Charles Beastslayer

Human, Soldier, Fighter
Chaotic Neutral

Strength: 16 [+3]
Dexterity: 14 [+2]
Constitution: 16 [+3]
Intelligence: 12 [+1]
Wisdom: 11 [+0]
Charisma: 14 [+2]


HP: 68 [+D10+Con per level]
Experience: [Level 7]
Saving Throws: Strength, Constitution.
AC: 17 (19 with Shield)


  • Human Traits:
    • 30ft Move. Medium size.
  • Military Rank: [Background Feature]
    • You have military rank. Soldiers loyal to your former organisation still recognise your authority.

Proficiencies: [+3]
Weapon: Simple Weapons, Martial Weapons.
Armour: All Armour, Shields.
Tools: Dice Set, Vehicles (Land), Cartography Tools.
Languages: Riekspeil, Bretonnian.
Skills: Animal Handling, Athletics, Intimidation, Survival.

Feats and Abilities:

  • Fighting Style:
    • Duelling: +2 Damage while wielding one weapon.
  • Second Wind:
    • As a Bonus Action heal wounds equal to D10+Fighter level.
  • Action Surge:
    • Take one additional Action.
    • Resets on Short rest.
  • Battlemaster: [5 Dice: D8: DC 14]
    • Riposte: After enemy misses attack use Reaction and Dice to attack, adding Dice to damage if you hit.
    • Precision Attack: Before or after attack roll. Add Dice to hit.
    • Parry: Reaction. Take Dex and Dice off damage of a single attack.
  • Extra Attack:
    • May attack twice as a single Action.


  • Sword
    • D8; Slash; Versatile [D10]
  • Shield
    • +2 AC
  • Half Plate
    • 15+Dex [Max 2], Disadvantage on Stealth
  • Pistol
    • D10; Piercing; Reload
  • Warhorse
    • 60ft; 11 AC; 19 HP
    • +4 2D6+4 on attack; Trample DC 15 or prone)
  • Two Handaxes
    • D6; Slashing; Thrown
  • Backpack
    • Bedroll, Messkit, Tinderbox, 10x Torches, 10x Rations, Waterskin, 50ft Rope
  • Insignia of Rank
  • Beastman Talisman
  • Bone Dice
  • Traveller’s Clothes

Charles was the third son of a minor Bretonnian noble in a castle that borders the Empire. Due to the peaceful nature of the region the sons of the area were sent to the north to serve under different liege lords as knights of the realm. When his time came Charles was sent away to serve through this initiative under Lord Pelifous of Pelifous castle. His training suffered a setback however when The Lord of the house discovered him in carnal relations with his youngest daughter, Lilliana. Flogged and imprisoned for days Charles eventually managed to escape, stealing back his armour and weapons and making his way to his father. When he found his childhood home closed to him for fear of political ramifications he crossed the border into the dark forests of the Empire, hoping to regain his honour or at least enough gold to once again be considered a noble.

He took the name Charles le Aubé, or "Charles the Blade", and fell in with a group of adventurers in the forests of the Empire. The group formed to halt the beastmen attack on the town of Stromdorf, and Charles befriended a local thief by the name of Eduard. The group earned coin and eventually friendships formed. Charles earned the nickname "beastslayer" for his skill with the blade, but despite their success the group did not remain whole for long. The dwarf Kilfuk abandoned the group, and Charles was forced to kill Eduard with his own hands after the thief was turned into an undead. The final member of the group, an agent named Alois, continued to work with Charles for a while before the pair had a falling out over pay.

"Ten percent Alois? Ten goddamn percent?"
Charles swayed a little as he stalked towards the finely dressed man sitting alone at a table. Alois stopped counting coins and looked up at his drunken ally.
"It is a normal matter Charles, please do calm down. I get an extra ten percent as a finders fee for organising our little outings. Normal Guild rates."
But the armoured man loomed over Alois still.
"I don't much care for thieves Alois" he spits, one hand planted firmly on the table and the other reaching behind his back.
For his part the Agent seemed all smiles, simply a friend trying to calm another down. But beneath the table he drew his knife. He knew the Bretonnian was a faster draw, but prayed to Sigmar the wine had slowed him down. Starting to stand Alois began to draw his dagger.
"Now listen here Charles-"

Alone once again and pursued by the authorities Charles made his way to Tabalheim where he joined the illustrious Riekland Rangers, a group of mostly criminals who hunted beastmen in the forests of the Empire. He hoped to find redemption for the past through this holy work, a chance to prove himself worthy of the knighthood bestowed upon him in a far away land. But he found no such thing in the forests of the Empire. The work was hard but Charles was glad to be earning regular coin, a necessity as his dependence on wine grew. Joining as a recruit he quickly rose to the rank of sergeant, often promoted simply by being one of the few survivors. He hunted beastmen through the forests, cementing his title of Beastslayer when he killed a Gor in single combat with nothing but his shield. For five years Charles fought in the forests of the Empire before a beastman's axe took his leg, but his injuries went far beyond those of the weapons of his enemies.

Charles walked past the dying man, stopping only long enough to check on the man. Barbed arrow to the throat, not worth the time. Continuing on he rejoined his men, now back in formation after the beastman attack. Ranks of spears pointed outwards, forming boxes around the scant few handgunners and crossbows Charles had left. The beasts were not clever but they knew the forest and could ambush better than any other force in this world. Half his men lay dead or dying, and the beasts that had retreated into the forest.
From behind him a stuttering voice rang out: "Could we not retreat to the village sir…there are warm beds there and the walls will keep us safe".
Charles turned to the man, observing the pimpled face and plump appearance of a farrier or stable boy. A conscript then. He drew his sword as he turned back to the forest.
"We are here to kill beastmen. Unless you know of any monsters in the village I suggest our duty could be better carried out here."
Fear shone in the eyes of the men as they watched their commander gesture to the forest around them as he spoke. Only a few hardened veterans nodded at his words, but all stayed silent.
"Now if you are done dreaming of the soft bosom of a tavern wench, the squad will advance".

Leg lost to a beastman's axe Charles retired for a time to the city of Nuln, working as a drill instructor for militia formed by the Countess. Over time he reunited with men from the Rangers, veterans of countless battles looking for a place to fight once again. With the little money he had left he formed the Steel Legion, a mercenary group of trusted comrades who would work for the highest bidder and accept any job. The Legion soon gained a reputation for being merciless and methodical, Charles' drinking moderated by the expectations and duties of command. The Legion grew from a handful of men to a proper mercenary company, sponsored by the Countess of Nuln and paid top price to do the jobs other men were unable to. Now over one hundred men the Legion was rewarded for their loyalty to the Countess with a pair of prized short muzzled cannons, brass beasts forged in the colleges of Nuln. Named Lilliana and Bertha the two cannons were put to good use against the enemies of the Empire or whomever else Charles was hired to kill.

"Please my good man, these are refugees and faithful men and women. They only want to pass through to find safety."
The man prostrated himself before the armoured figures, his white robe dirty and his ceremonial warhammer worn from use. A mile back down the bridge a mass of huddled figures waited on the muddy road shore.
"I'm sorry Preacher but my orders are clear. You'll pay the Countesses' toll or you will pay mine."
The man who spoke wore the same steel and midnight black as the rest of his men, but his age and the deference of his men gave away his seniority. His wooden leg made a thud as he began to walk back towards the waiting line of troops.
"I implore you. We are all sheltered within Sigmar's hand. I beseech you to let us pass".
The figure turned and Charles removed his helmet as he addressed the priest.
"Disperse or you will be dispersed".
Growing angry the priest rose and spoke loudly.
"We will not! We are the faithful of Sigmar and none will bar our passage".
The wind blew down the Reik as the armoured men waited with baited breath for the order they knew would come. They knew their commander well.
"So be it. The battery will fire."
On the hill above the twin brass cannons of the Steel Legion took sight at the huddled figures and fired…

When the civil war broke out the Steel Legion were hired by the Countess of Nuln once again, this time to help cement her right to the throne of the Empire. Skilled in sword and handgun both the Legion made a formidable fighting force, their cannons reaping a bloody toll on enemy knights and formations. They fought the Ulrican Knights of Boris Todbringer and the Zealots of Karl Franz with equal vigour, aiding the armies of Nuln in pushing back the forces of the rival Emperors. Aware of their skill at holding ground against all odds the Countess gave the Steel Legion one final job. The tower of Moors End stood at the edge of the realm of Bretonnia, midway between Altdorf and Nuln. Poised between the forces of Karl Franz and the knights of Bretonnia the tower seemed near impossible to hold, but for the right price the Steel Legion agreed. They fought off attacks from Franz and beastmen both, the creatures riled up as the End of Times approached. No new orders came from Nuln, even as the forces of Archeon pillaged Kislev and made their way through the Empire. No new orders came, and the Steel Legion held their post.

The rain was heavy outside, and the corporals were drenched as they stood before their commander. Charles ushered them in, a cup of fine Bretonnian wine in his hand and a pair of dice in the other.
"You've decided then?"
"Yes Sir. We intend to join the Imperial forces and march north. Will you not join us? The men will be overjoyed to have the Beastslayer at their back."
Charles seems to consider the offer before pulling down the neck of his coat and showing a thick red scar.
"Do you know where I got this scar Corporal? No? Neither do I. I have fought and bled for so long, and do you know what I have realised? All war is the same. You win or lose but as long as you survive you have cheated the gods. This end of days is a war like any other. I have taken the Countesses' coin to guard this forsaken shitheap and I will do so until my sword arm fails or I am paid to do something else."
The men silently filed out, and the sound of horses being harnessed and wagons loaded fills the courtyard around the tower of Moors End. Charles sits alone, sipping his wine and watching his men leave to fight for their cause.

With less than twenty men left and no horses Charles waits in the tower between the realms of Bretonnia and the Empire. Waiting for death to come. Waiting for the world to end.

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