The Razor's Edge
An abrasive recluse and historian. The Large One.
Titus is a physically imposing Dragonborn, prone to wearing comfortable robes, an over-sized neck wrap and a scowl. Often seen poring over tomes larger than his head.
- Arcane Implement Mastery: Orb of Imposition
- Dragon Breath Key Ability: Dragon Breath Constitution
- Dragon Breath Damage Type: Dragon Breath Acid
- ABILITY SCORES Str 12, Con 14, Dex 13, Int 15, Wis 14, Cha 12.
- AC: 12 Fort: 12 Reflex: 12 Will: 14
- HP: 24 Surges: 8 Surge Value: 8
- TRAINED SKILLS Arcana +7, Nature +7, History +9, Insight +7
- UNTRAINED SKILLS Acrobatics +1, Bluff +1, Diplomacy +1, Dungeoneering +2, Endurance +2, Heal +2, Intimidate +3, Perception +2, Religion +2, Stealth +1, Streetwise +1, Thievery +1, Athletics +1
- Wizard: Ritual Caster
- Level 1: Enlarged Dragon Breath
- Wizard at-will 1: Ray of Frost
- Wizard at-will 1: Thunderwave
- Wizard encounter 1: Icy Terrain
- Wizard daily 1: Freezing Cloud
- Wizard daily 1 Spellbook: Sleep
- ITEMS Adventurer’s Kit, Dagger, Spellbook, Implement, Orb, Cloth Armor (Basic Clothing)
- RITUALS Tenser’s Floating Disk, Comprehend Language, Brew Potion
“Hello, my name is Titus Priscus. Yes, of the Priscus line of historians, thank you for asking. My ancestors going back to the first written word have been helping to preserve the history of our Dragonborn race, not that it will do much good. We’re a dwindling race, you see. I am part of the newest generation, one of eight in my nest, and I estimate approximately 500 that decade. Painfully less than when we were at our peak. But I digress.
“My parents? Of the highest caliber. My father is a historian as well and my mother was a seneschal at Castle Hagthar. They both did me the great favor of lending me their thirst for knowledge. Perhaps too much. There was a time much earlier in my youth when I was told of a great library located in the wizard Cypranius’s tower, on the outskirts of my birthplace, Castle Hagthar. Unfortunately, the hatch-mate (my sister Junia) that told me, forgetful as always, failed to inform me Cypranius was still alive. He caught me red-handed, as it were, lifting several hefty tomes and a fascinating orb from his collection. Thankfully, I was nimble enough to escape his magical assault un-singed. The information in the volumes I managed to snatch led me to my current disposition as the area’s only known de facto mage. History is still my first love, though I persue the craft with gusto.
“My glasses? You flit like a hummingbird, don’t you? Well, I happen to have rather unspectacular vision. Comes from reading mountains of books in my youth. And yes, hatchlings can bully with the best of them. It’s why I tend to keep to myself; I just can’t be bothered. It seems like these days, of the people that come to me with questions (whether it be of magical, historical, or other mundane origin), Darmuth is the only person whose company I genuinely enjoy. He visits me every once in a while to find out things like property boundaries to settle petty disputes between the human villagers nearby. They don’t appear to enjoy coming to me themselves. Strange.
“Oh, of course several of my hatch-mates visit as well. Junia attempts to remain in touch, though her political position as ambassador keeps her away for long periods of time. My brothers Brutus and Cato will stop by on rare occasion to do research on their next big “Get Rich Quick” outing and bring some wealth back to this family. Fat lot it’s done them.
“I believe we are finished here for now. It is getting late and I have other matters to attend to, such as learning how to set fire to things with my mind.”