Alva Valewood

A sly and saucy young half-breed looking for a new begining.


Race: Elf/Satyr Female
Class: Level 10 Ranger
HP: 64

AC: 23
STR: 9 (0)
DEX: 18 (
INT: 12 (1)
WIS: 17 (
CHA: 14 (2)
CON: 12 (
Comliness: 16

Attacks: Base attack Bonus: 10/5
~Longbow: 1d8 + 1d6. 1d8x3 +1d6 on a critical. 1d8x3 + 2d6 sniping
~Dagger( +3 ): 1d4 damage, x2 on a critical

Fort: +7
Reflex +7
Will +3

Point Blank Shot
Precise Shot

Perception: 15
Survival: 15
Knowledge (Nature): 14
Handle Animal: 8
Hide: 10
Move Silently: 10
Perform (Wind Instrument): 1
Climb: 5
Favored Enemies
– Undead(4)
– Animals(
– Evil Outsiders (4)
Wild Empathy
Combat Expertise
– Many Shots
– Rapid Shot
– Swim (
– Fort (+2)
Woodland Stride
Swift Tracking

Spells per Day




Long Bow
-An expertly crafted, light yet powerful long-range weapon. The limbs of the bow are adorned with subtle Elven carvings, and strips of dyed green leather wrap around the grip. A few notches from military combat practice or a particularly rough hunt mar the otherwise sleek surface of the weapon.

-A large quiver containing a specialized assortment of arrows. While most are standard vendor-made, either bought or pulled out of a fallen foe, a small handful are personally fletched out of obsidian, bone, and other scavenged materials.

-A basic, easily concealable blade won off a patron in the local tavern. Always kept on her person, usually strapped to her leg or in her belt.

Chainmail 3
Gauntlet +1 (1
1 to AC)
Healing Belt +2 Competence bonus to Heal checks, 3 charges/day
Use: 1 charge: 2d8, 2 charges: 3d8, 3 charges: 4d8

Misc Kit
Knife (carving/skinning), wooden flute, herb pouch, basic armor repair/stitching kit, bedroll, waterskin (usually full of mead), compass.

Loot and Consumables
3 Alchemists fire potions
3 Cure moderate wounds potions
2 Cure light wounds scroll
1 Sanctuary potion
1 Barkskin potion
4 light ensorcelled crystals
1 Thornwood harp



“She was in the forest again. With that….goat-man. I don’t know what she could see in him. That foolish layabout is nothing but hindrance to her training. Pity the poor creature born of that mess!”

Alva never was one for pity.

Born of uncertain parents and left abandoned on a tavern doorstep, Alva has had to carve her own niche into elven society. Or rather, deftly hack her way out of it altogether. The kind old tavern keeper did her best to instill the strong values of any respectable elf into the wild haired, horned child. Alva was kept as busy as possible with the day to day tasks of tidying the rooms and serving customers, but any spare moment found her in the forests of Feladan, chasing after game one minute and lounging high in the boughs of the Great Trees the next.

When she came of age and was expected to begin her customary ten year enlistment into the Elven army, more and more of Alva’s time was dedicated to dodging her duties. Her superiors could never find her when it was time to polish the armor, scrub the blood off the sparring floor, or run through their drills, but when roll was barked out for combat training, Alva always managed to slide her way back through the trees, put on the familiar sideways grin of her’s the guards found so charming, and assure them she was most certainly there the whole time. Though she had little interest in the more mundane tasks of the training being forced upon her, Alva wouldn’t dare miss a moment spent with a quiver on her back and a bow in her hands. The twang of string and whistling of arrows were music to her ears, and a Satyr of any measure loves nothing more than a tune to dance to.

Her skill with a weapon was the one thing that kept her a part of the militaristic side of a complex Elven society. But Alva had always heard the whisper of nature much louder than the most boisterous commander’s call, and one warm evening marked the last time she would slip away from the life that was expected of her and begin her own path. And so she set out; down the tavern steps, through the city gates, and into the verdant forests of Feladan with a smirk on her face and a bow slung across her back.


Alva is female and of a somewhat lithe build. Her body closely resembles that of an Elf
(tall stature, pointed ears, and fair skin) but with a few notable features. Most apparent
of which being the set of antlers emerging just at the height of her forehead and
extending roughly 5 inches (13cm) above her head. Because of these rather obtrusive
antlers, Alva is unable to wear most standard helms outside of Satyr or Sslik make. Her
medium length, moss-green hair is prone to having various twigs and leaves entwined
in it. Beneath her eyes extending from the tear ducts, Alva has two dark lines that
travel along the bridge of her nose and end in a slight upturn. These markings seem to
provide a natural glare reduction when in bright sunlight. Her eyes themselves are a
dark golden hue. Alva does not possess the hooves or fur of a full-blooded Satyr, but
the soles of her feet are extraordinarily toughened and she has a few patches of
deer-like mottled markings, most notabley on her shoulders.

Alva Valewood

Blights edge Hjarta