Description: Size [Medium] 4’10”, Movement 25’, Ducateon (dwarf), male, age: 25, right handed, #200, reddish-gray hair, brown-grey eyes
Background: Outkast (Ducateon Diplomat caste)
– Personality Trait: I feel more comfortable by myself than around other people.
– Ideal: I must earn glory in battle for myself and my clan in order to regain my honor.
– Bond: I will bring terrible wrath down on the evil-doers who killed my brethren.
> Intolerance: Burning hatred for the Orrish (goblin, ork, off-spawn) that will not allow him to deal with any of their kind – or mask his disdain and hatred for them. Sanity DC 15 check or attack on sight.
– Flaw: I remember every insult received and nurse a silent grudge against anyone who ever wronged me.
Alignment/Code/Mannerisms: Lawful Neutral
Hit Points:  +2 = 12
Strength: 18 (+4)
Intelligence: 9 (-1)
Wisdom: 12 (+1)
Dexterity: 13 (+1)
Constitution: 15 (+2)
Charisma: 9 (-1)
Proficiency[+2 Bonus to proficient capabilities] Ability: Strength, Constitution
Armor: All + Shields | Weapons: Simple Weapons, Martial Weapons
Skills: Survival (Wisdom), Athletics (Strength),
Languages: Dumastorian (literate), Gladnorian (literate; poor), Mercate (human trade-tongue; not literate), Orrish (not literate)
Lore: Beers (Mead, Grog, Ale) +4
Feature: NONE – Past is lost in drink, violence and shame.
Weakness to Beer: Prefers fermented drinks (beer mostly) over all others and makes any resistance to drunkenness checks with a -4 penalty and Disadvantage on beer/mead/grog/ale specifically.
> He scourges himself for 1 HP damage at night when he falls prey to this liability.
Bad Drunk: If he fails on a resistance check for drunkenness, he first gets sarcastic, insulting and finally plain ugly, mad-dog mean. Right before he would get to a point of fighting, he simply passes out into a state of unconsciousness that has disadvantage on all checks to wake up and lasts for 8 hours.
Fighting Style: Defense; +1 AC bonus
Armor: Ducateon Maille – AC: 15 [resilience 2] + Dexterity  = Armor Class 16
Weapons: Maat Ducat (Ax) – D8/4; Versatile (D10 2 handed) + Thrown 20′ w/2 hands [1 resilience] Torc: Wears torc of caste upside down on chain, and inside out.
Gaardu was considered ‘lazy’ and ‘unproductive’ by his own people. To his family (part of the Diplomat Caste), he was weak – he enjoyed the drink too much and spoke like a human, and was not cultured like one of The Folk should be. Aggressive and more prone towards a warrior caste, he was the shame of his family and clan. He was given a job away from the Holt, where he could have little impact on the young ones and not embarrass himself too much. He was to guard an Outholt of the new scout position in the T’Yendi hills of eastern Dunstrand. He got drunk on watch and stumbled and rolled into a ravine. Unprecedented in its timing, it left the main entrance to the outholt unguarded at night, a day before they were to install all the trap defenses. While unguarded, several Orrish raiders slipped in and murdered his peers and some of the diplomats. When he woke, it was to the sounds of his own people searching for him. They believed him to have been taken captive, and killed. He slunk off in the next night in utter shame, and knew he could never return to the ways of his people. He wanted several time to kill himself, but could not. He sold his blade as a mercenary and traveled up the Beyne River to Lake Caolite, drinking every silver he made and never keeping a contract long. He finally arrived in Salt Marsh, and discovered a shrine to the fallen death god Djerduth… he gave all of his possessions in the hopes he would be killed. The ‘priest’ took him in and managed to get the full drunken story from him, and offered him a path to penance. To serve the order of Necromancers as a living sacrament to death. Each day, he would be broken, flayed, burned, and healed just a little as a research subject until he could find penance in taking an evil life for each ‘good’ life he let slip through his charge. He learned the cleansing of the scourge and to keep the horrible demon of drink at bay through it.
Despite his self loathing, he has kept his ax and armor. He wears his caste torc upside down under his armor. Normally not prone to speech among others, he is not like others of his kind. He is not humble and reserved and says something when he has something to say. He still holds his racial bias and considers mankind’s cities junkyards.