Strength 16
Dexterity 12
Constitution 14
Intelligence 10
Wisdom 14
Charisma 19

Race Human
Age 25
Height 6′1″ (185 cm)
Weight 176 lbs (80 kg)
Alignment Lawful Good
Worshiper of Erastil (Family, Farming, Hunting, Trade)
Class Paladin 1
Languages Common, Elven, Giant

Long sword
Large wooden shield
Chain mail
Backpack
Bedroll
Flint and steel
Hooded lantern
Rope (50 feet)
Waterskin

None.

Potions
None.

Platinum 0
Gold 0
Silver 0
Copper 0

“You call my dad a looney again, I’ll kill you.”

A restless half-elf with an unknown past, Marion Cain is a hardened and emotionally scarred vagabond who travels the wilderness of northern Avistan in search of a place he might finally call home.

Marion grew up as an orphan at the Turandarok Academy in Sandpoint, where he was raised and looked after by “Mad” Madison Cain, the school’s feeble-minded and deeply religious caretaker. Still mourning the loss of his own children, who had been taken by Chelaxian slavers many years before, the man would often drag the boy to the sermons of Father Tobyn at the town church. He even gave Marion his name, the same as his youngest lost son.

Despite his elven ancestry, Marion was an ugly and weird-looking child, with a swarthy, unhealthy complexion and predominant Kellid features. He was embarrassing to be around, and he always seemed much older than he actually was. Taller than most men, he looked giant-like and deformed, in particular when seen together beside his uncommonly short father.

By the age of seven, Marion’s homeliness was already legend. The good citizens of Sandpoint, baffled and disgusted, shunned or simply ignored him. His only friends were Jeb Hosk and Konrad Fell, two local boys who used to roam and hunt in the surrounding woods and mostly kept to themselves.

As the years went by, the scorn of others became a natural, but nonetheless painful part of Marion’s young life. The disturbing fact that “ol’ Maddy’s black devil” could see in the dark and, as the rumor went, detect even the faintest sound or whisper only added to their scorn and mockery.

He left Sandpoint at dawn on his fifteenth birthday. The old man was still asleep when Marion kissed him goodbye. For a brief moment, he tried hard to say something to the only person who had ever cared for him but instead, as Marion’s voice failed him for the last time, he decided right there and then what he wanted to be. He was not a man of words, people would never listen to him, and so he would lead by example. His childhood at the orphanage, the ramblings of his slow but devout father, and the harsh life on the road that would be his from now on would in time turn Marion into a champion of Desna, the Queen of the North Star and ancient goddess of freedom and luck.

Marion views opposing cruelty and oppression as a sacred duty. He fights it fiercely whenever he encounters a fanatical zealot, a greedy tyrant, or any small-town bully. A brooding dreamer at heart, his main purpose is to keep moving, experience new wonders, and spreading the will of his goddess as best as he can.

Marion mistrusts any Chelaxian that he meets, who most likely is a slaver or devil worshiper as far as he knows. Brought up to think like a true Desnan, he has a deeply rooted contempt for followers of Lamashtu, Rovagug, and Zon-Kuthon. He does not understand what is wrong with them, but they need to be set straight.

Solemn with a foreboding demeanor, Marion has the desperate look of a cornered animal that will fight to the bitter end. He growls when he speaks, using as few and simple words as possible. His left ear is slightly longer than his right one. It has an embarrassing tendency to twitch whenever he gets angry or nervous.

Marion walks with a slight stoop. Tall and lanky, he wears an elven curve blade strapped to his waist.