Damon Bayard (retired PC)


Damon Bayard
Human, Rogue level 8
Rogue Tactics: Brutal Scoundrel
Rogue: Rogue Weapon Talent
Background: Thousand Yard Stare, Mournland (Cyre), Enlisted Soldier (+2 to Perception)

Str 16, Con 10, Dex 22, Int 8, Wis 10, Cha 11.

Str 14, Con 10, Dex 18, Int 8, Wis 10, Cha 11.

AC: 24 Fort: 19 Reflex: 25 Will: 16
HP: 69 Surges: 6 Surge Value: 17

Bluff +9, Stealth +15, Thievery +15, Perception +11, Streetwise +9, Athletics +12, Acrobatics +15

Arcana +3, Diplomacy +4, Endurance +4, Heal +4, History +3, Intimidate +4, Nature +4, Religion +3, Dungeoneering +4, Insight +4

Human: Backstabber
Level 1: Weapon Focus (Light Blade)
Level 2: Melee Training
Level 4: Two-Weapon Fighting
Level 6: Slaying Action
Level 8: Nimble Blade

Human racial: Heroic Effort
Rogue at-will 1: Deft Strike
Rogue at-will 1: Piercing Strike
Rogue encounter 1: Dazing Strike
Rogue daily 1: Blinding Barrage
Rogue utility 2: Tumble (retrained to Sneak in the Attack at Level 6)
Rogue encounter 3: Low Slash
Rogue daily 5: Bloodbath
Rogue utility 6: Ignoble Escape
Rogue encounter 7: Circling Strike

Leather Armor, Frost Dagger +1, Siberys Shard of Merciless Cold (heroic tier), Triflik’s Blade, Adventurer’s Kit

640 gp

Jarvic’s Fierce Strike (Iron Armbands of Power property)
Jarvic’s Tenacious Grit (Flowform Armor power)

Jarvic’s Defensive Step (Boots of the Fencing Master property and power)
Jarvic’s Dagger Defense (Rhythm Blade property)
Resurgent Memories (Power Jewel power)


Rhythm Blade Dagger
Boots of the Fencing Master (7)
*Gloves of Ice (11)
*Steadfast Amulet (8)
Casque of Tactics (14)
*Diamond Cincture (10)
Power Jewel (5)
*Dice of Auspicious Fortune (11)
Backlash Tattoo (9)
Stone of Earth (12)
Ruby Scabbard (5)- Can be upgraded to Sapphire (15) and Diamond (25)
Any of these can be Grandmaster Training (or whatever) that Damon would pursue.


“I’ll be home soon…”

Damon Bayard’s story is the story of many boys growing up in the slums of Metrol. Poor… uncaring parents… raised to take first and ask later. The details are irrelevant and underwhelming. Suffice it to say, he learned to fight and he learned to steal.

But sometime in his sixteenth year, he found a way out. A low-life recruiter for the Cyran army, who found he got better results grabbing street urchins out of Metrol, got his hands on Damon and ‘offered’ him a position in the illustrious Fifth Rank. And so the lad ended up on the border of Darguun, fighting treacherous goblins as well as Brelish filth. He spent most of 983 up to his neck in blood, corpses, and fear. The only thing on his mind was to somehow survive, learning every trick he could to get through another day of the Last War.

Sometime in the spring of 984, a commander in his rank took notice of the young soldier. Damon had a certain skill set for reconnaissance, and he had already shown his quality to his unit. The commander— Jarvic ir’Mather— had Damon transferred to his crack unit of tactical specialists for training and eventual deployment. Damon learned firsthand under the nobleman himself how to fight and move with lethal finesse. The older man became a father to the young Damon, and he took quickly to his lessons and to his new life in a unit that had respect and comaraderie. And as he was deployed, he showed his merit, becoming a weapon in the hands of his commander and his nation that he was coming to love.

The next 7 years were the best of Damon Bayard’s life. His skills and heroics on the battlefield earned him respect and rewards within the Cyran military. He rose in rank, and eventually became an officer and leader of his particular unit. His men trusted him, and together they became known as the Cold Blade— always cool under pressure, and always lethal. Jarvic, his ever-present commander, gifted Damon with an enchanted dagger fixed with a dragonshard, as reward for his exemplary leadership and skills. The blade was a symbol of all that he had accomplished since being plucked from the streets of Metrol years before.

But the greatest thing that Damon treasured was the life that blossomed beyond the battlefields of the Five Nations. His reputation and connections had earned him respect back on the home front. While on extended leave in the city of Making, a beautiful young lady working the bar in a tavern frequented by officers caught his eye. And he caught hers. After a few self-deprecating lines, Damon won a dinner date with the young woman, whose name was Adri. A whirlwind romance ensued which lasted the rigors of military life, and in 986 the two were married. A year later, Damon and Adri had their first and only child— a little girl named Ellie.

It is difficult to chronicle the happiness and satisfaction which Damon felt. He had made something out of his life which few of his background could ever have dreamed of. He had a career, a fine reputation, and most of all love. He had a life, and he treasured every moment he had with Adri and little Ellie. They were everything to him. A reason to live.

But the War was going badly for Cyre. It was now late 992, and an extended campaign against the combined forces of Breland, Darguun, Valenar, and Thrane was quickly wearing the Cyran army down. Many believed that Cyre couldn’t sustain the defense, and that the War was quickly coming to an end against Cyre. Damon knew the odds, but he steadfastly refused to believe that his nation would fall. The Cold Blade was put into action more and more, and Damon felt the pain of his time on the field tearing him from his family. The next year was a mad blur of mission after mission, and constant promises to Adri and Ellie: “I’ll be home soon.” His beloved wife gave him a silver locket in the shape of a compass— “So you’ll always find your way home,” she told him. Inside it, Damon put a small tuft of Ellie’s hair.

In the beginning of Olarune, 994, the Cold Blade was sent on a mission deep into Valenar to find and assassinate a Valaes Tairn warlord who had been repeatedly routing Cyran regiments with his cavalry. The mission seemed a suicide, as no one went behind Valenar lines and survived. But Jarvic believed in his seasoned officer, and Damon believed in his men. They slowly and quietly made their way through the Valenar countryside to find the roving warlord. They were on the trail and their mission was close to being accomplished.

Then on Olarune 20 the world as Damon knew it came to an end.

Cyre was removed from the map by the Mourning, and everything the man cherished was lost in the dead gray mist. Word got to Damon three days after it happened, and he and his men immediately headed for home. Horrified by the huge bank of mist at the border, they plunged into it and quickly found that home as they knew it no longer existed. The horrors that Damon saw in what is now called the Mournland are beyond description. He and his men made it halfway to Making, fighting for their lives, and fleeing for their sanity, before they had to turn back. Damon found that the closer he got to his home, the more twisted and horrific the land became. Some corpses wouldn’t decompose. Others wouldn’t die. Powerful energies took on a hungry life of their own, seeking to devour whatever they came across. And the land was broken. Nothing could have survived whatever it was that caused this devastation. Not Adri… And not Ellie…

For days as he wandered into and then back out of the Mournland, Damon wept. Even when there was no longer enough moisture in his body, he still wept dry tears. All but two of his men were dead. The nation he loved and fought to protect was dead. His wife and child were dead. And inside, Damon was dead as well. He had lost everything precious to him, and after weeks spent witnessing the devastation, he was close to losing his sanity. But he would not give up his hope that somehow Adri and Ellie were alive.

It was this senseless hope that led him to join the Thousand Yard Stare. For almost a year, he would try to go into the Mournland on his own— cheating death each time. And in between he would find himself in some bar in Karrnath or Thrane, drinking his pain away. A Medani recruiter was in Karrlakton, and Damon joined the guild patrolling the Mournland. It gave him a reason to keep crossing the Dead Gray Mist, and a fool’s chance of survival. The guild was decent to him, and he made some acquaintances who shared his loss. The Thousand Yard Stare was full of desperate soldiers and sell-swords who had nothing better to do than return to the devastation over and over. If anything, it gave them a reason to keep their fighting skills fresh and earn a decent wage.

It was at this time that Damon started using dreamlily. The Vassals in the Host temples told him that his wife and daughter were in Dolurrh. But Damon saw them from time to time in his dreamlily induced stupors. All he had to do was drink a dose, and he could watch Ellie dance in the sunshine or spend one more night with Adri. But too often, the dreams were marred by nightmares. One moment Ellie was handing him a flower, and the next some horrible visage from the Mournland was invading his dream. It was beginning to drive him mad.

But whether his dreams were paradise with his family, or nightmares from his reality, he always woke with the same words on his lips: “I’ll be home soon…” With every day that he patrolled the Mournland, his wild hope faded into resignation. His family was dead. Every day, then, was a step closer to reunion. Whether that meant Dolurrh, or in the Flame as the Flamers preached, or maybe his drug-induced dreams would become reality— regardless, his only hope of seeing his family again was his own death. The sooner the better.

Three years of service in the Thousand Yard Stare passed, and Damon was openly considering abandoning his agreement. He had seen enough, and the Mournland was now nothing more than a reminder of loss. A number of times he went to his commander to request to be released. The answer was always no, but the Medani heir who led his patrol realized that this constant foraying into Cyre was going to drive Damon mad. So he spoke with some house contacts about other possibilities for the man’s skills.

In early 998 Y.K., Damon was approached by none other than Taldor d’Medani while resting between rides at Arythawn Keep. The leader of the Basilisk’s Gaze offered him a job: to track down a wanted War criminal by the name of Danilo Sofka. Sofka was a commander in the Karrnathi army before the Emerald Claw purge, and a zealous member of the disgraced organization. There are three accounts of him ordering his troops to slaughter Karrnathi villages in order to use the corpses as undead troops, and so he is wanted for these crimes against humanity. The only word of his whereabouts was rumor that he had fled to the Lhazaar Principalities. Damon agreed to take the job on one condition: that he could bring along some of his companions from the Thousand Yard Stare. Taldor agreed, and it was not long before the group of companions headed east.

After a month of traveling and tracking down leads, the group sniffed out Sofka’s trail. Some two months ago, fearing capture, the war criminal decided to flee to Sarlona. They learned that he had boarded a privateer ship bound for the port town of Ardhmen in the faraway continent. They would have to pick up the trail from there…

Physical Description

Age: 32
Height: 5’ 10"
Weight: 180 lbs

Long years of military service have made Damon comfortable in combat gear. While traveling, he always wears his worn leather armor, still sporting a faded Cyran insignia. His dark cloak is tattered on the edges, and his boots boast a layer of mud at almost all times. His second-most cherished possession always hangs from his belt: his dagger from Jarvic ir’Mather. His most treasured item hangs from his neck at all times: his locket from his wife, still holding his daughter’s hair.

Damon always keeps his hair trimmed short, and he shaves whenever possible. A smile is rare on his face, and usually it is a calculated smile. A genuine expression of happiness only comes in private moments when he is high on dreamlily.

Damon Bayard (retired PC)

Shadows in Syrkarn imperialjunkie