Strength 20
Dexterity 15
Constitution 13
Intelligence 10
Wisdom 12
Charisma 7

Race Half-elf
Age 25
Height 6′5″ (196 cm)
Weight 176 lbs (80 kg)
Alignment Chaotic Good (acts as his conscience directs him)
Worshiper of Desna (dreams, luck, stars, travelers)
Class Fighter 1
Languages Common, Elven

Elven curve blade
Knife
Studded leather
Backpack
Bedroll
Flint and steel
Grappling hook
Hooded lantern
Rope (50 feet)
Waterskin

None.

Potions
None.

Platinum 0
Gold 7
Silver 0
Copper 0

None.

Power attack*
Improved initiative

Ancestral arms
Marion is proficient with the elven curve blade.

Elven immunities
Marion is immune to magic sleep effects and has a +2 racial saving throw bonus against enchantment spells and effects.

Keen senses
Marion has a +2 racial bonus on Perception checks.

Low-light vision
Marion can see twice as far as humans in conditions of dim light.

Multitalented
Marion’s two favored classes are fighter and ranger. He gains +1 hit point or +1 skill point whenever he takes a level in either one of those classes.

Reactionary
Marion was bullied often as a child, but never quite developed an offensive response. Instead, he became adept at anticipating sudden attacks and reacting to danger quickly. He has a +2 trait bonus on Initiative checks.

Reckless
Marion has a tendency for rash behavior, often disregarding his own safety as he moves across the battlefield. He has a +1 bonus on Acrobatics checks, and Acrobatics is always a class skill for him.

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

A restless half-elf with an unknown past, Marion Cain is a scarred and battle-hardened vagabond who travels the wilderness of Varisia 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 Bubba, 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 old man would often bring 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 awkward to be around, and he always seemed to be much older than he actually was. By the age of seven, his 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.

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 ultimately 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 an 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 lean, he wears an elven curve blade strapped to his waist.