Post by macandrews on May 25, 2011 21:38:49 GMT -5
ok, it's definatly past time I put him up, so here he is 
Malachi Quinn
Age 60, Height 6'6", Weight 270, Grey hair, Rust-colored skin
Stats go as follows:
Str 16, Dex 15, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 16, Cha 8
HP 26, AC 15, Saves are 3/5/6 after mods, Speed is 30/50
Initiative +2, BAB +3, Melee BAB 6, Ranged BAB 5
Claws +6, 1d8+3 Full attack 2 claws
Skills in total are:
Climb 10, Intimidate 5, Jump 9, Listen 5, Spot 7, Treat Injury 7
Feats are:
Defensive Martial Arts, Combat Throw
Allegiances are Clan first and foremost, Everything else is a distant second
Special:
Rage, Stone Sleep, Claws of Stone, Extraordinary Leap, Environmental Tolerances
Profile/Backstory:
Quinn comes from an Irish clan that had remained hidden for centuries, and he was one of the last set of eggs which had undergone a long flight after their original home had become no longer safe for them. He quickly matured, thanks to the strict training he was given, into a strong protector of the clan and took to his duties more seriously then some of the veterens and elders of the clan.
After the destruction of their home, the whole clan had moved into a rather vast cavern, with multiple tunnels that were sealed if they couldn't be used or thought to pose a threat, which came when a war broke out between the native Irish and another group from near by Islands. The cave was found eventually, and after several attempts to just reason with the invaders, which in Quinn's mind came from all sides not of the clan, became a hot spot for attacks from the humans, all unsuccessful due to dedicated gargoyles like Quinn, repelling each threat with little harm to the humans.
After several years, the humans managed to find out the weakness of the gargoyles, and that was very soon used to destroy almost the entire clan, if not for some good luck of Quinn and a few others. During the daytime, the humans had came back and destroyed the gargoyles while they slept, being little more than statues at that time. just as they were getting to Quinn's stone form, the sun was fianlly tucking down below the horizon, a silent signal to awaken the soon-to-be beast. The sight of his whole life, save but a few others and a handful of eggs, turned to rubble sent Quinn into a rampage he had never even thought possible of him. Minutes later, the humans all lay dead, and Quinn's hands soaked in blood. Quinn was shocked by his anger, and immediatly made a vow, of the honor of his dead clan members, that he would never take another humans life, no matter the cost, and the from there, he drew the remainder of the clan to him, and began to wonder how long they could survive before a larger more armed group arrived.
No group ever arrived, as tales of monsters in the caves frightened away locals, and made the British invaders uncertain and cautious, even during the height of the wars that constantly broke out. Then one night, in roughly mid 1970's, Quinn awoke to find a person standing rather calmly in the cave, in a area that left them no escape, should any of the gargoyles choose to attack. The man gave no name, but spoke, in passable Gaelic, easily and calmly to the clan of a group that was trying to save and protect the gargoyle race in these dark times. after several hours of debating and conversing, the clan agreed to be moved across the sea..to a place called Montreal...
Standing 6'6" and being well built for his matured age, Quinn is an aged gargoyle, but still has many years left in him yet, and maintains a rather imposing figure and demeanor. the years behind him have left him cold and blunt to everyone, and speaks only when really needed. he's dressed only in the loin cloth that most elder gargs wear to keep themselves covered properly. he has absolutly no use for weapons of any kind, and abhors the use of them even more so. he spends most of his nights teaching the younger ones about how important the clan should be to all of them, though he sometimes gets carried away and has to be reminded by the new elders of the clan how hard Father Micheal works to keep them all safe.
Malachi Quinn
Age 60, Height 6'6", Weight 270, Grey hair, Rust-colored skin
Stats go as follows:
Str 16, Dex 15, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 16, Cha 8
HP 26, AC 15, Saves are 3/5/6 after mods, Speed is 30/50
Initiative +2, BAB +3, Melee BAB 6, Ranged BAB 5
Claws +6, 1d8+3 Full attack 2 claws
Skills in total are:
Climb 10, Intimidate 5, Jump 9, Listen 5, Spot 7, Treat Injury 7
Feats are:
Defensive Martial Arts, Combat Throw
Allegiances are Clan first and foremost, Everything else is a distant second
Special:
Rage, Stone Sleep, Claws of Stone, Extraordinary Leap, Environmental Tolerances
Profile/Backstory:
Quinn comes from an Irish clan that had remained hidden for centuries, and he was one of the last set of eggs which had undergone a long flight after their original home had become no longer safe for them. He quickly matured, thanks to the strict training he was given, into a strong protector of the clan and took to his duties more seriously then some of the veterens and elders of the clan.
After the destruction of their home, the whole clan had moved into a rather vast cavern, with multiple tunnels that were sealed if they couldn't be used or thought to pose a threat, which came when a war broke out between the native Irish and another group from near by Islands. The cave was found eventually, and after several attempts to just reason with the invaders, which in Quinn's mind came from all sides not of the clan, became a hot spot for attacks from the humans, all unsuccessful due to dedicated gargoyles like Quinn, repelling each threat with little harm to the humans.
After several years, the humans managed to find out the weakness of the gargoyles, and that was very soon used to destroy almost the entire clan, if not for some good luck of Quinn and a few others. During the daytime, the humans had came back and destroyed the gargoyles while they slept, being little more than statues at that time. just as they were getting to Quinn's stone form, the sun was fianlly tucking down below the horizon, a silent signal to awaken the soon-to-be beast. The sight of his whole life, save but a few others and a handful of eggs, turned to rubble sent Quinn into a rampage he had never even thought possible of him. Minutes later, the humans all lay dead, and Quinn's hands soaked in blood. Quinn was shocked by his anger, and immediatly made a vow, of the honor of his dead clan members, that he would never take another humans life, no matter the cost, and the from there, he drew the remainder of the clan to him, and began to wonder how long they could survive before a larger more armed group arrived.
No group ever arrived, as tales of monsters in the caves frightened away locals, and made the British invaders uncertain and cautious, even during the height of the wars that constantly broke out. Then one night, in roughly mid 1970's, Quinn awoke to find a person standing rather calmly in the cave, in a area that left them no escape, should any of the gargoyles choose to attack. The man gave no name, but spoke, in passable Gaelic, easily and calmly to the clan of a group that was trying to save and protect the gargoyle race in these dark times. after several hours of debating and conversing, the clan agreed to be moved across the sea..to a place called Montreal...
Standing 6'6" and being well built for his matured age, Quinn is an aged gargoyle, but still has many years left in him yet, and maintains a rather imposing figure and demeanor. the years behind him have left him cold and blunt to everyone, and speaks only when really needed. he's dressed only in the loin cloth that most elder gargs wear to keep themselves covered properly. he has absolutly no use for weapons of any kind, and abhors the use of them even more so. he spends most of his nights teaching the younger ones about how important the clan should be to all of them, though he sometimes gets carried away and has to be reminded by the new elders of the clan how hard Father Micheal works to keep them all safe.
