| Mod | Save | ||
|---|---|---|---|
| STR | 26 | +8 | +28 |
| DEX | 28 | +9 | +25 |
| CON | 20 | +5 | +22 |
| Mod | Save | ||
|---|---|---|---|
| INT | 14 | +2 | +2 |
| WIS | 16 | +3 | +18 |
| CHA | 16 | +3 | +3 |
Gene-Enhanced Physiology.
The Space Marine automatically succeeds on death saving throws, can hold his breath for 1 hour, and is immune to disease.
Power Armor.
His armor provides environmental sealing, augmented strength, and auto-senses. He has advantage on Perception checks involving sight or hearing, cannot be surprised, and ignores the effects of extreme heat or cold.
Relentless.
At the start of his turn, if the Space Marine has fewer than half his hit points, he regains 20 hit points.
Weapon of the Angel.
The Space Marine is attuned to The Pale Sun, his antimatter railgun. He can use it as both a ranged and melee weapon.
Multiattack.
The Space Marine makes 2 melee attacks with The Pale Sun or fires it once.
The Pale Sun (Melee Weapon Attack).
+14 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target.
Hit: 36 (5d10 + 8) bludgeoning damage. On a critical hit, the target must succeed on a DC 18 Strength saving throw or be knocked prone.
The Pale Sun (Ranged Weapon Attack).
+12 to hit, range 1,000/3,000 ft., one target.
Hit: 6d12 force + 4d12 radiant damage. See full item rules (ammo limit, detonation on crit, structural killer, overload on nat 1).
Unyielding Faith.
When the Space Marine would be reduced to 0 hit points, he makes a DC 18 Constitution saving throw. On a success, he is reduced to 1 hit point instead.
(3/turn)
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Advance. The Space Marine moves up to half his speed without provoking opportunity attacks.
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Strike. The Space Marine makes one Pale Sun melee attack.
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Rail Shot (Costs 2 Actions). The Space Marine fires The Pale Sun, expending 1 antimatter slug.
Description
A towering figure encased in ceramite plate, the Space Marine is nearly nine feet of gene-forged muscle wrapped in machinery older than kingdoms. His every movement is deliberate, the weight of destiny in each step. The air hums with static as his railgun — The Pale Sun — crackles with restrained annihilation.
His helm’s visor glows with an amber light, scanning the battlefield with cold precision. To common folk he is no man but an armored angel, a living statue of war that has stepped from another world. When he speaks, his voice is a vox-distorted thunder, carrying judgment across the field.
He does not flinch, does not falter. He advances.
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