Bernat del Cavall

Bernat del Cavall
Characteristics: Int -1, Per 2, Com -1, Pre -2, Str 0, Dex 3, Sta 0, Qik 2
Confidence: 3(3)
Personality: Moral 2, Shy 1, Self-Confident 1
Age: 18 (born Spring 1216)
Virtues (7 points):
Premonitions (minor)
[tab][/tab]Roll Per + Premonitions vs variable ease to predict danger
Light Touch (minor)
[tab][/tab]+1 to rolls, -1 botch die to subtle manipulations
Ways of the Town (major)
[tab][/tab]+3 to all rolls, including combat, that directly involve that area and its inhabitants; -1 botch die than normal (down to 0). Town animals don't molest
Puissant Stealth (minor)
Privileged Upbringing (minor)
Peasant (free)

Flaws (7 points):
Enemies (the court of the Bishops of Urgell) (major)
Judged Unfairly (minor)
[tab][/tab]No-one can see past the fact Bernat is a spy; they assume he's untrustworthy, whereas actually he has a very strong moral code
Dutybound (minor)
[tab][/tab]Having grown up with a taste of privilege, before being squarely brought back down to near-poverty, then re-elevated to a comfortable position, Bernat feels it is his duty to champion the weak and downtrodden, even if inconvenient or if they are undeserving
Nocturnal (minor)
[tab][/tab] -1 to all rolls between dawn and midday
Social Handicap (minor)
[tab][/tab]Bernat has a stutter. -3 on appropriate rolls

[table][tr][td]Language (Occitan)[/td][td]5[/td]td[/td][/tr]
[tr][td]Area Lore (Pyrenees)[/td][td]2[/td]td[/td][/tr]
[tr][td]Artes Liberales[/td][td]1[/td]td[/td][/tr]
[tr][td]Single Weapon[/td][td]2[/td][td](short sword)[/td][td]4xp[/td][/tr]
[tr][td]Language (Latin)[/td][td]1[/td][td](Church documents)[/td][td]7xp[/td][/tr]
[tr][td]Civil & Canon Law[/td][td]1[/td]td[/td][/tr]
[tr][td]Animal Handling[/td][td]1[/td]td[/td][/tr]
[tr][td]Concentration[/td][td]2[/td][td](keeping watch)[/td][/tr]
[tr][td]Legerdemain[/td][td]2[/td][td](lock picking)[/td][/tr]
[tr][td]Folk Ken[/td][td]1[/td]td[/td][/tr]
[tr][td]Church Lore[/td][td]1[/td]td[/td][/tr]
[tr][td]Profession: Soldier[/td][td]1[/td]td[/td][td]3xp[/td][/tr][/table]

One short sword, Andorran issue
5 superior throwing knives
Reinforced Leather Armour

Encumbrance: 2 (Load 5 vs Str 0). Encumbrance 0 unarmoured without sword
Soak: 4/0
Sword: Init 1, Atk 9, Def 6, Dam 5
Knife (Melee): Init 0/2, Atk 5, Def 2, Dam 2
Knife (Thrown): Init 0/2, Atk 8, Def 5, Dam 2, Range 5

Bernat grew up in the town of Adrall, just 10 miles from the Andorran border. His father was groom to the Senor d'Adrall ("Lord Adrall"), who kept a fine stable of six horses. Senor d'Adrall also had a son, Ramon, who was 3 months Bernat's senior. The two boys were natural friends, and often got into mischief together. Occasionally, Bernat attended young Ramon's lessons, gaining a broad, but scattergun, education.

Sadly, when Bernat was 12, Senor d'Adrall lost a quantity of his fortune in a misguided trade venture; the stables were reduced, and Bernat's father was let go. Bernat had to bid farewell to his childhood friend, and set off to pursue a very different life. Eventually, at the age of 15, Bernat found employment with the court of the Bishop of Urgell. His speed and talent for going unseen had impressed the Bishop's spymaster, and Bernat was recruited as a field agent. In this capacity he excelled for 3 years until, returning from a mission one night and entering the bishop's stronghold by an unorthodox route, he overheard a conversation between the Bishop and... someone. Stopping to listen, Bernat realised that the Bishop was entering into a deal with some kind of supernatural being, promising it money from the collection plate in exchange for continued favour at court.

The deal may have been more involved still, but Bernat unluckily dislodged a loose chipping from the window ledge he was standing on, and the conversation stopped abruptly. As he fled the scene, Bernat heard voices behind and below him shouting for him to stop. Knowing that he would be identified, and fully aware of the fate of spies who know too much, Bernat ran for his life. As he headed into the surrounding mountains, wondering where he could seek refuge from beings not of this world, he remembered the tales of a group of magi living in Andorra. With the dual promise of another territory, and magical protection, Bernat turned his steps north, heading for the covenant at Arans.

Under cover of partial darkness, Bernat trekked cross-country through the night until, around dawn, he crossed the stream called El Runer, and knew he was in Andorra. This was small comfort, as Bishop Urgell's domain extended over the entire region, and Bernat knew he was being tracked - twice during the night the echoing mountains had brought him the rumour of men and dogs on his trail. Bernat broke off the main pass, and took shelter for the day in the surrounding woodland. He managed to sleep fitfully for a few hours. To his immense relief, no pursuers entered his wooded retreat; as the sun began to sink, he headed onwards towards Andorra la Vella, where he hoped his good fortune would hold.

However, as he approached the town Bernat spotted a guard of Urgell talking with the town's gatekeeper. In the gathering gloom, neither of them spotted Bernat, who quickly left the road. Skirting the town, Bernat was tempted to bypass it altogether, but hunger forced him to reconsider. Carefully scaling the walls in an out-of-the-way back-street, he flitted from shadow to shadow to the market-place. A baker was still closing up his stall, and Bernat quietly appropriated a small loaf, retiring to an alleyway to eat it.

By the time he had finished, night had fallen properly, and with it a chill rain. Thinking he could use the elements to aid his escape, Bernat broke from cover and headed for the north gate and wall. As he walked, a dog caught his scent and started barking furiously. Realising he was marked, Bernat turned and fled. A guardsman's crossbow bolt thudded into a building just behind him, and Bernat realised he would have to outwit and outrun them. Pulling himself up, Bernat sought to gain the rooftops, but a second bolt nicked his side, causing him to stumble. He managed to regain his balance, and fled across the roofs, cursing the pain. His unorthodox route allowed him to lose his pursuers and he escaped over the walls.

By now, Bernat was wet, bleeding and in pain. He knew his wound would make it easy for the dogs to track him. His only hope was that he had enough of a start, and that the rain would mask his scent. For three hours he stumbled northwards, until finally, at about 2 hours after midnight, he saw the massive castle of Arans before him. Nearly fainting with the effort, but knowing the pursuit could not be far behind, he hauled his exhausted frame up to the guardhouse and knocked as loudly as he could...

(At this point, I imagine Bernat should join a story thread)