The Shackled City
Disciplined Half-Orc Monk who Turns Vice into Victory
Elias Hoog: male half-orc Monk 8/Drunken Master 1; HD 9d8; hp 58; Init +4; Spd 50’; AC 21 (+4 Dex, +1 Wis, +2 armor, +2 natural, +1 deflection, +1 Monk), touch 17, flat-footed 17; BAB/Grap: +6/+17; Attack +13/+8 melee (1d10+7, unarmed strike) OR +13/+8 (1d10+1d4+7, improvised weapon); SA
Flurry of blows, ki strike (magic), unarmed strike; SQ Darkvision 60’, drink like a demon (5 rounds), evasion, fast movement (+20’), purity of body, slow fall (40’), still mind, wholeness of body (14 hp/day); AL LN; Saves: Fort +10, Ref +12, Will +7 (+9 vs. Enchantment); Str 24, Dex 18, Con 11, Int 9, Wis 12, Cha 9; Language: Common.
Skills: Balance +10, Jump +23, Move Silently +9, Spot +4, Tumble +21
Feats: Deflect Arrows, Dodge, Great Fortitude, Improved Disarm, Improved Grapple, Mobility, Spring Attack
Gear: Gloves of Dexterity +2, bracers of armor +2, amulet of natural armor +2, ring of protection +1, belt of giant’s strength +4, ring of tumbling +3, ale & whiskey.
Deposited on the doorstep of a monastery by parties unknown, the monks assumed that he was the child of an orcish mother from one of the local tribes. Raised to overcome his rage and focus on inner peace, Elias learned self-control from his wise masters. With his superior strength and agility, Elias excelled in all of his physical excersizes. His mind was also sharp, though not as brilliant as others at the monastery. Finally, having only recently left the grounds of his home, Elias has little to no skill when it comes to dealing with others.
With all of that under consideration, it’s no surprise that he would fall in with what his old masters would consider the “wrong crowd” all too soon – within weeks of entering the city of Cauldron, a pair of men approached him and offered to buy him a drink. Appreciating the kindness and recognizing the plain dress typically worn by monks (though of a different order he did not recognize), he accepted their offer. They were nice enough, and he was already missing the contemplative conversations he used to have with the other monks back home.
As one drink turned into ten, he learned about the life of a Drunken Master – and about himself. For two decades he had been taught how to control himself without influence; Elias found that as he drank more, a fog decended upon him. He felt his orcish blood flowing stronger, and his inner rage building. He knew that it would not be long before he lost all control and reverted to an aggression he had not displayed in years.
That was when the other monks began his trial. As the sun rose the next morning, Elias realized – through the haze a pounding headache, backache, armache, legache, and general bodyache – that he had kept himself in check. With the help of the two Drunken Masters that had found him (and fought him), he had been able to keep himself under control, even in the worst situations. Throughout the night, he had taken his inner turmoil and converted it into a controlled outpouring of energy. He had found a well-spring of inner strength in a place where he had not expected – at the bottom of the bottle.