The wind gusted through the wooded vale raising a rustle of leaves. A figure clothed in wolf hides broke from behind a bush, taking the rustle of leaves as his cue to dash forward towards a group of boulders. He kept his head low and slumped forward almost running on all fours, staying under the contour of the earth as he concealed himself among the boulders. As the wind subsided, he could hear voices in the distance. Faint, but they were drawing closer. As they passed through the vale they would pass beneath the boulders and then he would strike. As another gust of wind swept through the vale, he brushed aside the loose leaves and peat and lay back against the hard clay ground, planting his feet against the boulder. As the rustle passed, he could hear the voices again, they were indeed closer. They were chattering excitedly, discussing the success they had had in the day’s hunt.
He waited silently, head back staring at the sunbeams as they filtered through the emerald canopy as the voices panned in from the left below him. Just before the voices were beneath him, the figure extricated a battleaxe from his belt gripping it with both hands. As the figures passed beneath him, he struck the ground with his axe, burying keenly honed blade into the ground on his right side like a hooks. The thump as the axe sunk into the clay soil echoed through the vale, raising a flight of birds and causing the group to below to stop. The figure inhaled slowly and silently, waiting until his own muscles relaxed, then he pushed against the boulder with his massive sinewy legs.
The rock canted slightly at first, then, as its base began to slide, it started roll. As it tumbled forward, the base on which had stood began to give way dislodging the surrounding rocks. As the rocks and debris surged down the hillside, dislodging saplings and earth, it grew into a wave of moving earth, devouring all in its path. Over the roar of the landslide, the figure could scarcely hear the shrieks of the hunting party as they sought cover. With a fluid wave like motion the figure kicked up and landed on his feet. Hunching down to retrieve his axe, he charged down the hill.
The landslide had cleared a path down the hillside which widened as it neared the base of the vale. Rocks and debris were scattered about the base the vale, the path that once passed through it now had vanished beneath a newly deposited mound of earth. A few members of the hunting party had managed to get out of the path of the devastation but most had been caught by the full force of the earth. Some had been killed instantly by the force of the impact, their bodies rent, flesh and blood strewn amongst the rubble. Others had survived in various conditions, one warrior screamed from behind his shield blood spurting from the stump where his arm had been sheared off by a passing rock. As the wolf clad warrior reached the base of the vale he silenced the screams with an axe blow to the head. Other hunters, who had feared better, were trying to free themselves from the debris. The remaining hunters, who had escaped unscathed, were freeing an older man. His plate armour once finely wrought had been dented and sundered by the pounding rocks. Blood trickled from the corner his mouth staining his white beard and weathered skin. He wheezed heavily, gasping as some of his men lifted his crumpled form from the rubble and placed him on their shields. The others, guarded their lord, forming a wall of spears between their liege and the hide clad warrior.
He did not attack them, instead dispatching the wounded hunters who were still struggling to get free. He pulled his axe from the back of the last of the wounded hunters, a pale red mixture of blood and spinal fluid splashing over his hand. Shaking the blood off his hand, he roared his face a mask of gore and rage. “I slaughter your men like pigs, and you do nothing to aid them! Has the honour of the Ice Bear clan fallen so low, that you only care for this pale murderous dog.” His husky voice echoed through the vale, mocking the men from all directions. One of the hunters turned from his liege, unlike the others who wore leather armour, he was clad in chain mail and drew a long sword from the sheath at his hip. He wore his long hair in braids a simple golden band holding it in place. “How dare you, who are drenched in blood, call my father a murderer! He is the great chief of our clan!” He bellowed, his voice almost a match for the axe wielding warrior. “He became chief by murdering my father! I am Rogan, son of Ulric, chief of the Ice Bear clan. Tonight he shall be avenged and my exile will end!” With that Rogan roared, it was a primal scream of rage fomented over years of hardship. The vale shook with the power of his voice and the warrior seemed to grow in size. As he charged forward brandishing his axe, the other hunters dropped their spears and ran into the woods, leaving Rogan alone with the prince.
Rogan did not care that the others had fled, all that mattered was the prince and the chieftain. As he closed with his opponent, he brought his axe down in a mighty over head chop. The prince raised his sword to block the axe and had to leap back as Rogan brought his knee up sharply to strike his opponents groin. As the prince struggled to gain his balance, Rogan pressed the attack. His axe batted aside the prince’s sword, opening his defence. Before the prince could recover, Rogan rushed in, smashing his forehead down against the bridge of the prince’s nose. He pulled back laughing, as the blood gushed from the prince’s face, “Had enough boy!” He mocked.
The prince thrust his blade at Rogan, but the warrior twisted deftly out of the blade’s path, pinning the prince’s arm between his free arm and his chest. With a mighty swing, Rogan brought his axe down on the prince’s elbow. Rogan could not help but wince at the sickening crunch as the axe amputated the limb. As the prince reeled from the wound, Rogan buried his fist in the man’s abdomen. The prince folded around the warrior’s fist as he sank to his knees. Grabbing a handful of the prince’s hair, Rogan brought his axe down on the warrior’s neck.
Rogan held high his bloody prize, a bellow of victory issuing from his mouth. He strode over to the dying chieftain and held his son’s head before his eyes. As tears welled in his aged eyes, Rogan pressed his heel into the throat of his father’s assassin. He felt a visceral satisfaction as the aged limbs thrashed against his leg then slow and finally stop. With a deft twist of his ankle he snapped the bones in the corpse’s neck, his father was avenged. Rogan wiped the blood from his axe with the chieftain’s hair, then set out to track down the chief’s men who had fled into the woods.
Okay, this is a combo that doesn't exist in the guild. The reason being the alignment shifts, the build itself is very playable if you can manage the 12 alignment shifts on the law-chaos axis (it sounds worse than it is as you only require 1 or 2 points either way). That said, you have a lot of hit points, 11 points of DR, a good AB, fair AC, nasty critical hits and terrifying rage. It isn't particularly uber, but it is kind of fun to play. This build should do well in mid magic settings where there is no devastating critical.
Advantages
-Terrifying Rage/Greater Rage. He only has a 42 DC, and it doesn't last long (1D3) rounds for the Terrifying effect, 9 rounds for the rage bonus. It can be a good bonus and the fear effect can be used as cover to throw up a taunt. -51 Taunt. He is pretty much assured of getting the +6 bonus against most enemies. -Good HP with 11 points of DR. 618 HP, 738 while raging. He can take a pounding, and with a fair AC he should last a while in melee. -Okay AB. He has a 43 AB, which should do the job against most opponents when coupled with taunt. -17-20 threat range with an x4 weapon. He does inflict some rather nice critical hits.
Disadvantages
-Low Damage. He only has a 22 base strength and he doesn't have weapon specialization or any spells that will help with that. -Mediocre Saves. If he can get some save boosting equipment he can do okay, and with a 28 reflex save vs. spells he'll get some use out of evasion. -12 alignment shifts.
Focused Rage
Race Human
Alignment NG, CG, TN or CN
Base Attributes STR 16 DEX 14 CON 15 INT 14 WIS 8 CHA 8
Attribute Bonuses Levels 4, 8, 12, 16, 20 and 24 increase Consitution Levels 28, 32, 36 and 40 increase Strength
Final Level Distribution Barbarian 15 Monk 6 Weapon Master 19
AC 23 (no buffs, no equipment) 27 (no buffs, chain shirt) 30 (no buffs, chain shirt, tower shield) 53 (+4 to Dexterity, +5 chain shirt, +5 ring of protection, +5 amulet of natural armor, +5 boots of the sun soul, haste) 61 (As above with +5 tower shield)
Final Saves (Vs. Spells) Fortitude 28 (32) Reflex 24 (28) Will 18 (22)
Looks pretty good, except for saves, which are always too low. The story was enjoyable enough, though the descriptive language in the first two paragraphs was a bit overdone. _________________ CATS!