Mercenary

> "*I'm not here to win. I'm here to make sure you die first...*"
> ― Aodh Blackheart
>
>

• An Akaian man kicks open the door to a lowlife establishment, sending the wood splintering across the tavern floor. Two thugs step from either side, but are easily dispatched. A single axe blow to the chest. A sword thrust to the heart. As their corpses fall to the ground, the taverns inhabitants begin to run, and are ignored by the bounty hunter; All but one. A greasy, cowardly man, a crime lord with many enemies. One too any. He stumbles over a table in an attempt to escape, only to shout in pain as a hook pierces his shoulder. The Akaian pulls on his end of the chain, yanking the crime lord to the ground. He pleads for his life, but is silenced nonetheless. The Akaian was not being paid for mercy.

• The retired hunter opens his door to see two unpleasant individuals, dressed in ragged cloth and brandishing weapons. Miscreants, sent by unhappy individuals with illegal business that the hunter had likely put a stop to. He sighs, deeply, attempting to send them off, but they leap towards him with reckless abandon. They swing, but are sloppy. Clumsy. Inexperienced. The hunter sidesteps, slamming the head of one into his porch railing, shattering the wood and the man's skull in the process. Before the other can contemplate his comrade's death, the hunter is upon him. They had been warned. And now they were dead..

• The elven fighter knelt, panting, out of breath, as the Naerian swordsman stood on guard, barely a sweat broken. He was more experienced, quicker, stronger. But the elf slowly rose to her feet, ignoring the pain of her wounds, ignoring her blurred vision. She was not here to win. She was here to kill the Naerian. And so she rushed towards him. Her vision cleared, her focus anew, she had one goal, one purpose. The Naerian deftly stepped backwards, thrusting into her heart with a well placed movement. A fatal blow. But the elf did not stop. She ran herself onto the blade, further, and in a moment of shock, the Naerian hesitated. And in that hesitation, she roared through the pain of the wound, swinging both her weapons at the man's head, decapitating him with the final ounces of strength left in her. His head rolled to the ground, his mouth still open in shock. And she fell to her knees, dropping her weapons as she stared at the sky. Her vision darkened as she smiled and took her last breath.

A Mercenary is a ruthless and cutthroat fighter, willing to do whatever is necessary to get the job done. They wield a frightening combination of weapon attacks, unarmed combat, and survival tools that make them a menacing foe for all to deal with. But perhaps what is most terrifying is their blatant disregard for death. Mercenaries fight recklessly, putting themselves in harms way in a continuous basis, but reap the benefits like none other can. They strike harder than they are hit, they live on the brink of death using their will alone to keep their attacks coming. And by the end of every battle, they will have insured every enemy in their path died before they did.

## Signature Abilities

If you're dual wielding, you can follow up and Bash your foe, dealing 6-11 (d6) Physical Damage and dazing your foe for 1 round.
Deals 200% damage against Snared targets.
 Sucker Punch
 Chain of Blows

## Lethality (Damage over Time, Aggro)

Cut your foes apart and make them fear you.

## Brutality (Direct Damage, Wounding)

Break apart your foe's guard and shatter bones.

## Close Combat (Utility, Combos)

Bang knuckles with your foes, overpowering them with brute force.

## Survival (Control, Debuff)

Tools, skills, and techniques which complement your aggression.