Deathscry Bloodraven

Surprisingly well spoken barbarian with a constant grin on his face that alludes to hidden knowledge, or insanity.


Aasimar / Skald/ Hp 12/ BAB 0 / AC 19 / CMB 1 / CMD 14

Str 13, Dex 16, Con 17, Wis 16, Int 15, Cha 20

Fort 5, Ref 3, Will 5

Resistance: acid 5, cold 5, electrical 5

Skills: Perception 7, Perform Percussion 9, Perform Sing 9, Perform String 9, Spellcraft 6, Use Magic Device 9

Feats: Power Attack, Scribe Scroll

Spell like ability: Daylight once per day

Spells known: 0- Detect Magic, Message, Dancing Lights, Prestidigitation 1st- Comprehend languages, Moment of Greatness

Rage Power:

Equipment: Scale mail, Buckler, Ranseur, Shortspear, Shortbow, 60 Arrows, Club, Dagger, 50ft Silk Rope, Flint and Steel, 5 torches, 4 water skins, fur blanket, copper wire, bag of soot and salt, Masterwork Backpack, Small Harp, The Book

Community-Minded, Maestro of Society


Orphaned to the ruthless nomadic desert tribe known as the Bloodravens. Deathscry was raised to be a killer and Hunter of men. That is exactly what he would have become if chance and dumb luck had not intervened in the form of a shining glimpse of metal. Deathscry ran to the gleaming piece of scrap with hopes of a coin or even better a blade, but instead pulled forth a strange metal figurine. Looking at the strange metal thing in the shape of a man he was fascinated by the tiny joints and gears that held the thing together. Fearing his father would destroy his new treasure Deathscry decided to keep his first secret.

The figure became Deathscry’s obsession. Every chance he could get he would study and clean the tiny man. After months of this secret work Deathscry finally discovered a small hole in the tiny things back. When he jammed a small knife in it to try and clear out some sand something strange happened. The thing moved.

Seeing this Deathscry almost dropped the thing out of surprise, but curiosity won out over his fears. Giving the knife a few more turns, and the figure sprang to life. Deathscry was so fascinated by the flurry of new movement that he barely noticed the pain as the tiny creature produced all manner of tools from its body in an attempt to free itself from his grip. Still grinning Deathscry finally set the thing down with his now bloody hand. The thing just gazed up at him with it’s one eye as if it was studying him. After a long moment staring at Deathscry with his bloody hand and that stupid grin on his face the thing made a few tinking sounds and extended it’s tiny hand. Deathscry did not fully understand the gesture, but this only made his grin grow wider and a friendship was born.

Deathscry took to calling the thing Tink after the little noises it made and this seemed to please the strange metal man. With the awakening of Tink also came an awakening inside Deathscry. A new hunger was born in the boy not for food, wealth, or power, but for knowledge. Deathscry decided that he wanted to know all of the secrets the world had even if, like Tink, he didn’t understand them.

Tink remained Deathscry’s secret as he continued to grow and train as a warrior. But even as he trained his body he continued to train his mind. Tink helped him whenever it could and despite Tink’s inability to speak was helpful in Deathscry’s education.

This continued for many years as Deathscry grew from a boy into a man. Then one day it occurred to him that he had reached the limits of what he could learn with his murderous family. Not wanting to leave them without a word Deathscry decided to make his intentions known. This was not received well.

After weeks of beatings and forced fasting Deathscry still seemed determined to commit to his pursuit of knowledge. All the while wearing that same blood stained grin. His father finally dismissed his son as a madman and left him starving and broken for the desert to claim. “If we ever see you again we will kill you.” Were the last words his father spoke to him.

As Deathscry slipped in and out of consciousness the last image he remembered seeing was Tink walking away from him. When most would have let go of hope and given to dispare Deathscry lay grinning in the sand trying to push words past lips to dry and parched to form them. “Good bye my friend.”

The next images Deathscry can remember were strange and disjointed. The one thing he swears he saw was a little blue man riding a giant ant and a metal Dragon that for some reason made him think of Tink.

Deathscry awoke in a inn being tended to by a young maid. She said she had been paid well for the task but for the life of her she could not remember a single detail about who had paid her. Whoever they were they had left a small harp and book saying they were his. With them Deathscry took to the world to find its secrets.

Deathscry Bloodraven

Beyond Death: A Post-Echoes Campaign Lynx189