Secrets of the Mist Stalker
Lady Kira Araatis
Minor noble lady with a taste for adventure.
== Created Using Wizards of the Coast D&D Character Builder ==
Kira Araatis, level 3
Build: Resourceful Warlord
Warlord: Battlefront Leader
Commanding Presence: Bravura Presence
Human Power Selection: Bonus At-Will Power
FINAL ABILITY SCORES
Str 18, Con 10, Dex 10, Int 16, Wis 8, Cha 11.
STARTING ABILITY SCORES
Str 18, Con 10, Dex 10, Int 14, Wis 8, Cha 11.
AC: 17 Fort: 17 Reflex: 15 Will: 13
HP: 32 Surges: 7 Surge Value: 8
History +9, Endurance +5, Intimidate +6, Diplomacy +6, Athletics +9
Acrobatics, Arcana +4, Bluff +1, Dungeoneering, Heal, Insight, Nature, Perception, Religion +4, Stealth, Streetwise +1, Thievery
Human: Improved Initiative
Level 1: Human Perseverance
Level 2: Stubborn Survivor
Bonus At-Will Power: Commander’s Strike
Warlord at-will 1: Viper’s Strike
Warlord at-will 1: Opening Shove
Warlord encounter 1: Shielded Assault
Warlord daily 1: Relentless Wounding
Warlord utility 2: Hasty Alert
Warlord encounter 3: Inspiring War Cry
Adventurer’s Kit, Travel Papers, Identification Papers with Portrait, Arrows (30), Halberd of Great Opportunity +1, Rebounding Longbow +1, Hide Armor
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Found in the wreckage of a torched village after a border skirmish, Kiera was adopted by a solider of Cyre, a minor lord who earned a knighthood for his actions in that very battle. Due to the injuries he sustained, however, he was transferred to a training position. As a result, Kiera was raised as far from actual war as possible, but constantly surrounded by the trappings and reports of the battles. Almost as soon as she was old enough to hold a beaker, she showed an unquenchable interest in alchemy. As a result of this interest, and her father’s position, she received personal training as an artificer from some of the best teachers in Cyre from a very young age.
As soon as she came of age, Kiera put her talents to use delivering important messages to battlefield units. She had just delivered a message to a unit deep in Thrane territory, and was returning to Kalzart with the reply when the Mourning struck. The shock of the refugees’ tales, coupled with the sight of the Mourning itself has left her shaken to this day. If not for the unlikely friends she made in the aftermath, especially Durmin and Three, she may not have lasted this long.
Weeks After the Mourning
The soft breeze carried a hint of moisture. With out opening my eyes I feel the darkness pressing against my face. I could stay in the cramped refugee tent in the comforting escapism of my bedroll, but I know there is no use trying to sleep anymore. Getting up, dressing silently, moving through the camp in the pre-dawn hours, I wish I could say the coming day still holds the promise of the new, but that’s all gone. Its quiet and the smell of cold ashes is just one more layer of despair clinging to all of us who fled Cyre. The pre-dawn glow is revealing the bleak landscape. I walk a bit from the camp finding a crooked, stunted pine tree, to small for anyone to bother with for firewood. I sit looking east, not for the sun, but trying to convince myself I can see the border. I know its too far, but I’ll look anyway. Its been weeks, and there haven’t been any other refugees since those first frantic hours. They’re calling it The Mourning, I come out here every morning to sit and watch morning over The Mourning. I can’t even enjoy the gallows humor of that small act. My friends, my father, they were all deep in Cyre, days from the border. I can’t see how they got out, but until I am proved otherwise I have to believe they did. I can’t say hope, there is far to little of that left. As soon as I can leave the camp I’ve decided to cross the border, I have to find them.