As a young child, Benjaar always found himself towering over his peers. Dragonborn are known for their rapidity of growth but Benjaar was an exception. By 7 he was nearing the size of a young adult. By age 13 he was fully grown. Living in the outskirts of Sprohm, he was attracted to the city by rumors of magic and technology. As he approached the capital city of Midara, he was dazzled by the sights he saw. Giant floating strongholds and beautiful airships soared through the air above him. At last he found a place to make his mark and achieve what no other Dragonborn had before him. He wanted to be recognized as the best weapons maker in all of Sprohm! Unfortunately, he didn’t have any gold to start a business and he didn’t have the right connections to obtain a loan.
Frustrated and broke, Benjaar took a job in one of Midara’s numerous ore mines. The mine was dangerous and the work tested his abundant strength, but he was resolved to earn enough money to open his own shop. He slaved away long hours each day using what little free time he had left to forge his first weapon, a giant two-handed Greataxe. He befriended the dwarves and humans that worked by his side in the deepest recesses of the mine. On his breaks, he mystified his co-workers with amazing feats of strength and athleticism, even taking part in the occasional boxing match that his co-workers loved. As he grew in strength from the vigorous mine work, he also grew into a great boxer. Before he knew it, his reputation had grown so large that the fiercest, strongest males from the mines of Midara challenged him on a weekly basis.
After each victorious fight he took notice of the massive amounts of money that changed hands. Why was he not earning any money for his prowess? Why was he still living in squalor when he could fight his way to his dream? The only thing that held him back was his honor. Was it dishonest to earn money by brutally demolishing his opponents? No! It was not dishonorable to be a superior fighter, challenging any and all fighters who thought they could best him. It was that mentality that spurred him to enter the pits of Midara where he quickly became the premier pit-fighter of the city. He ventured across Sprohm, taking on any challenger that entered the pit opposite him. As his prestige as a fighter grew, so to did his cockiness. He became arrogant and lazy, but still defeated his foes. Then one day a Goliath stepped into the pit and Benjaar experienced the humiliation of defeat. Broken and battered, he limped back to Midara.
Upon arriving back in Midara he was shunned by his friends and no promoter would allow him into their pit. His arrogance had burned so many bridges that even the mine foreman would not give him back his old job. He had blown all of his winnings on ale and loose women leaving only the miserable shack he called home before his fighting days as his only possession. He slowly entered his hovel and slumped into his chair. He had spent his last gold coin on a barrel of cheap ale and decided he would sit there and drink himself further into depression. As he was getting ready to crack open his barrel, he glanced up at the wall behind the pad he called a bed. Sitting in the exact spot he left it was his giant two-handed Greataxe, the fading light coming in through the door glimmering off its razor sharp edges. He quickly jumped to his feat and hoisted the axe, swinging it in controlled arcs to test its handling. He remembered the hours he spent crafting this fine weapon and knew its craftsmanship was second to none. He lifted it above his head and brought it down upon his ale barrel, smashing it into a thousand pieces. Making up his mind at that exact instant, he strode out of his shack and said his goodbye’s to Midara.
As he stepped into the wilds of Sprohm he vowed never again to dishonor himself like he did in the pits. He would spend his days adventuring, seeking honor and respect instead of glory and fortune. He would fight to help those that couldn’t fight for themselves. A smile spread across his leathery face as he hefted his axe up onto his shoulder and took off into the wilds of Sprohm. No longer contained by borders he would venture throughout the world picking fights with those who sought to harm others. Of course he would have to stop for ale every once in awhile and maybe the company of a nice lady but he would never again pummel a person just to prove he could.
Level 1 Dragonborn Fighter
Initiative: +2
Senses: Perception +1
HP 30; Bloodied 15
AC 17; Fortitude 17; Reflex 12; Will 13
Healing Surges: 11 per day, recovers 7hp
Speed 5
Abilities: STR 20(+5); DEX 14(+2); CON 15(+2); INT 12(+1); WIS 12(+1); CHA 16(+3)
Basic Attacks: melee +5, ranged +2
Attacks: Greataxe +8 melee (1d12+5)
At-Will Powers: Reaping Strike, Cleave
Encounter Powers: Passing Attack, Dragon Breath [racial]
Daily Powers: Brute Strike
Alignment: Unaligned
Languages: Common, Draconic
Skills: Acrobatics+2, Arcana+1, Athletics*+10, Bluff+3, Diplomacy+3, Dungeoneering+1, Endurance*+10, Heal+1, History+3, Insight+1, Intimidate*+10, Nature+1, Perception+1, Religion+1, Stealth+2, Streetwise+2, Thievery+2
* indicates trained skills
Feats: Dragonborn Frenzy
Racial Abilities: Dragonborn Fury, Draconic Heritage, Dragon Breath [lightning, STR]
Class Abilities: Combat Challenge, Combat Superiority, Fighter Weapon Talent [Two-handed Weapons]
Regional Benefit: Endurance as a bonus trained skill with a +3 bonus to any Endurance checks Benjaar makes.
Benjaar's Gear
Illustration by William O'Connor from 4E PHB
