healing surge value 17 +1 (18)
surges per day 11
race : dragon breath, +1 healing surge value, +1 to attacks while bloodied
Feats : Student of battle (warlord multiclass) , Toughness, Novice power swap.
Gear: Lightning longsword+2, Dwarven Armor +2, Dwarven greaves, Bloodcloak +1, mundane javelins.
Powers: Dragon breath, Divine Challenge, Channel divinity(Divine mettle), Holy Smite, Valiant Smite, Lay on hands(twice a day) , Inspiring words, Piercing smite, Paladin’s Judgement, Endure pain, Staggering Smite,
hallowed circle, wrath of the gods, Lion’s roar.
Draeyth’s father Verkesh was a great warrior and devout follower of Bahamut. His mother Saylkra was a cleric of Bahamut. His uncle Mordesh was a very successful mercenary, as well as a paladin of Kord, though few outside the family knew it.
Though all three of them told Draeyth stories of their adventures, the stoic heroism of his parents and Bahamut’s other followers seemed dull next to the wild adventures of his uncle and he spent as much time as his father would allow in Mordesh’s company.
Listening to his stories and learning to fight.
Verkesh frequently tried to convince his brother to forsake Kord for Bahamut. These ‘discussions’ often escalated to violence. After a particularly brutal confrontation, Verkesh forbade Draeyth from further association with Mordesh.
Draeyth obeyed this command, grudgingly, for almost two weeks. The increased effort by his parents to groom him into a paladin of Bahamut began to chafe. The combat training his father provided in place of Mordesh was instructional, but not nearly as fun. There was no joking, little praise and much criticism. Worse there were no stories of adventure while they caught their breath between bouts of sparring.Worse by far were the hours he was now required to spend in the temple to Bahamut. Sermon after droning sermon wore away at his limited patience. He began sneaking off to see his uncle who never tried to preach the virtues of Kord, he simply lived them.
When Prince Scott’s fleet began to gather, Draeyth’s Parents decided to stay in Halandras. There had been whispers of a dark cult in a nearby region and they felt compelled to root it out and destroy it.
Draeyth was told to continue his combat training with Lorkshy a grizzled dwarf weapon master, and attend four sermons a week at the temple. The dust of his parent’s departure had not yet faded when he was rushing to the ship his uncle was soon to depart on.
“Can I come with you?” Draeyth asked hopefully.
Mordesh smiled and eyed the empty ramp, clear of any obstacle, “Can you?”
On the last day of the drought, Draeyth heard something he had never heard before. Mordesh was praying. “Enough. Kord, I do not fear death, but this weak rasping death is beneath me. Let me die as I’ve lived.”
Within minutes the sky was darkening and thunder roared across the water. Lightning clawed its way towards the ships like giant talons, pulling the mass of roiling clouds behind them.
Mordesh smiled, “Much better… As for the boy-” Thunder drowned out Mordesh’s words and soon all was chaos.
When Draeyth awoke on the beach, his uncle’s sword, shield, and empty armor was scattered around him.