Post/Author/DateTime	Post
Garidas 08-24-06, 03:41 PM	Hello, it seems as the thread (last thread) as vanished. I decided to make new one, please put your character here. Here you can put your character up so people can see it and DMs can use them. Rules: 1. Make readable statics, if not sure, look at Elminster, Drizzt or others in FRCS. 2. Have a backstory 3. Tell the characters look. (Nice to tell about clothing too) 4.Keep on track, no bullsh** here thank you. Start posting, I will soon post mine. -Garidas
Bladesong 08-25-06, 11:18 PM	What happened to all the replies? Anyway, here's the updated stat blocks. I took some liberties with the kitsune but it should hold up. Sarion Evrilow; Elf Mnk8/Rgr5/Sor1: CR 14; ECL 14; Size M; HD 13d8+26 + 1d4+2; hp 97; Init +5; Spd 50 ft (base 30 ft); AC 18, touch 18, FF 13; BAB +11/+6/+1; Grapple +17; Atk: +14/+9/+4 melee (2d6 + 2/crit 19-20, Unarmed), +12/+7/+2 melee (2d6 + 2/crit 19-20, Unarmed Flurry), +13/+8/+3 melee (1d8 + 2/crit 19-20, Longsword); SQ Low-light Vision, +2 to saves vs enchantment, immune to sleep effects; AL LG; SV Fort +12, Ref +15, Will +11; Str 14, Dex 21, Con 15, Int 16, Wis 14, Cha 15. Height 5 ft. 5 in. Languages spoken: Common and Elven Skills and Feats: Balance +18, Climb +12, Concentration +7, Diplomacy +9, Escape Artist +10, Hide +15, Jump +14, Listen +11, Move Silently +15, Ride +10, Search +10, Spot +7, Swim +10, Tumble +21, Perform (Dance) +7, Perform (Sing) +7; Ascetic Hunter, Armor Proficiency (Light), Combat Reflexes, Deflect Arrows, Dodge, Endurance, Improved Critical, Improved Grapple, Improved Unarmed Strike, Martial Weapon Proficiency, Mobility, Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Track, Weapon Finesse, Weapon Focus. Special Abilities: Animal Companion, Combat Style, Evasion, Familiar, Fast Movement, Favored Enemy, Flurry of Blows, Ki Strike, Low-light Vision, Monk AC Bonus, Purity of Body, Slow Fall, Still Mind, Unarmed Strike, Wholeness of Body, Wild Empathy. Sor Spells Known (5/4): 0--Acid splash, Daze, Ray of frost, Read magic, Resistance 1--Burning hands, Color spray, Magic missile, Obscuring mist. Possessions: Masterwork elven longsword (memento from father), House Evrilow insignia necklace (gives luck), ragged cloak of raggedness (especially ragged). Kojoro; Female kitsune animal companion Drd4/Rgr1: CR 5; ECL 5; Size S; HD 5d8+10; hp 34; Init +1; Spd 40 ft; AC 17, touch 16, FF 14; BAB +4; Grapple +1; Atk: +6 melee (1d8 + 1, Bite); SA Spell-like abilities; SQ Shapeshift, spirit qualities, low-light vision, scent; AL NG; SV Fort +10, Ref +8, Will +5; Str 12, Dex 17, Con 15, Int 12, Wis 13, Cha 12. Languages spoken: Chikushudo, Common, Elven Skills and Feats: Bluff +5*, Concentration +10, Disguise +4, Handle Animal +5, Heal +9, Hide +8*, Intuit Direction +3, Survival +8, Knowledge (Nature) +9, Knowledge (Other) +3, Listen +8, Move Silently +8*, Search +2, Spellcraft +8, Spot +5, Swim +5, Wilderness Lore +5*; Alertness, Armor Proficiency (Light), Armor Proficiency (Medium), Dodge, Martial Weapon Proficiency, Mobility, Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Track. *Kitsune have a +4 racial bonus to Hide and Move Silently, Bluff, and Wilderness Lore checks. These bonuses increase by an additional +2 in a forest setting. Special Abilities: Animal Companion, Bonus Languages, Favored Enemy, Low-light Vision, Nature Sense, Resist Nature's Lure, Scent, Spontaneous Casting, Trackless Step, Wild Empathy, Wild Empathy, Woodland Stride. Drd Spells Known (5/4/2): 0--Cure minor wounds, Detect magic, Detect poison, Light, Read magic, 1--Calm animals, Charm animal, Cure light wounds, 2--Barkskin, Cat's grace. Racial Spells Known: 0--Dancing lights, Entangle, Ghost sound, Pass without trace, Silent image, Speak with animals. Racial Spells Prepared: 0--Dancing lights, Entangle, Ghost sound, Pass without trace, Silent image, Speak with animals. Background: In the Year of the Curse, 882 DR, the once mighty elven realm of Eaerlann found itself besieged. At the height of the turmoil, the warrior Elavel Evrilow, scion of the Evrilow house, as his wife fled in cowardice. As such, his moonblade, the symbol of his family’s pride, found him unworthy and went dormant. Shamed, Elavel hid the weapon and journeyed further and further east, seeking to put distance between him and his shame. A century of wandering led him to the far lands of Kara-Tur. It was not until the Year of the Trumpet, 1301 DR, that Elavel was finally able to conceive a son, though his beloved wife would die in childbirth. Elavel educated the young Sarion in the truest values of the elven race, putting emphasis on courage and duty, things which Elavel had failed in doing. He enlightened the young elf of his unfortunate history and the loss of the Evrilows’ finest heirloom. Though he educated him in the use of many martial tools, Sarion became enamored with the thought of returning to Faerun and reclaiming all that had been theirs and so vowed never to a weapon in combat until the moonblade was restored to him. It was so that Sarion took the path of the martial artist. Elavel Evrilow died in shame, though filled with hope that his son would restore what he had brought low. Sarion journeyed the East, learning from others and through his own experiences, always vying for more strength and skill. It was during these sojourns that Sarion discovered that he too had the spark of the arcane. Yet through all his acquired skills, he remembered the core of his training and developed skills that would complement his martial abilities. Now, Sarion travels west to the lands of his ancestors, ready to make his own destiny. Description: Sarion stands only about five inches above five feet, as most elves go. His hair is emerald green, a prevalent trait of the Evrilow bloodline, which he wears in a ponytail that ends between his shoulder blades. His kind though mischievous blue eyes belie a powerful cunning, a staunch sense of duty, and a menagerie of inner strengths. In returning to Faerun, Sarion has scrounged up any article of western garb he could find and so has uniquely bewildering attire. Personality: He is often pleasant to talk to, witty and knowledgeable, and at times giving into bouts of humorous eccentricity. However, Sarion has sworn to reclaim his family’s moonblade and this duty is his priority. He becomes bitter when speaking of his family, though not his intention. He tries his best to avoid this and is wary of his need to keep his emotions in order.
Gallameed 08-26-06, 02:10 PM	What happened to all the replies? Anyway, here's the updated stat blocks. I took some liberties with the kitsune but it should hold up. Sarion Evrilow; Elf Mnk8/Rgr5/Sor1: CR 14; ECL 14; Size M; HD 13d8+26 + 1d4+2; hp 97; Init +5; Spd 50 ft (base 30 ft); AC 18, touch 18, FF 13; BAB +11/+6/+1; Grapple +17; Atk: +14/+9/+4 melee (2d6 + 2/crit 19-20, Unarmed), +12/+7/+2 melee (2d6 + 2/crit 19-20, Unarmed Flurry), +13/+8/+3 melee (1d8 + 2/crit 19-20, Longsword); SQ Low-light Vision, +2 to saves vs enchantment, immune to sleep effects; AL LG; SV Fort +12, Ref +15, Will +11; Str 14, Dex 21, Con 15, Int 16, Wis 14, Cha 15. Height 5 ft. 5 in. Languages spoken: Common and Elven Skills and Feats: Balance +18, Climb +12, Concentration +7, Diplomacy +9, Escape Artist +10, Hide +15, Jump +14, Listen +11, Move Silently +15, Ride +10, Search +10, Spot +7, Swim +10, Tumble +21, Perform (Dance) +7, Perform (Sing) +7; Ascetic Hunter, Armor Proficiency (Light), Combat Reflexes, Deflect Arrows, Dodge, Endurance, Improved Critical, Improved Grapple, Improved Unarmed Strike, Martial Weapon Proficiency, Mobility, Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Track, Weapon Finesse, Weapon Focus. Special Abilities: Animal Companion, Combat Style, Evasion, Familiar, Fast Movement, Favored Enemy, Flurry of Blows, Ki Strike, Low-light Vision, Monk AC Bonus, Purity of Body, Slow Fall, Still Mind, Unarmed Strike, Wholeness of Body, Wild Empathy. Sor Spells Known (5/4): 0--Acid splash, Daze, Ray of frost, Read magic, Resistance 1--Burning hands, Color spray, Magic missile, Obscuring mist. Possessions: Masterwork elven longsword (memento from father), House Evrilow insignia necklace (gives luck), ragged cloak of raggedness (especially ragged). Kojoro; Female kitsune animal companion Drd4/Rgr1: CR 5; ECL 5; Size S; HD 5d8+10; hp 34; Init +1; Spd 40 ft; AC 17, touch 16, FF 14; BAB +4; Grapple +1; Atk: +6 melee (1d8 + 1, Bite); SA Spell-like abilities; SQ Shapeshift, spirit qualities, low-light vision, scent; AL NG; SV Fort +10, Ref +8, Will +5; Str 12, Dex 17, Con 15, Int 12, Wis 13, Cha 12. Languages spoken: Chikushudo, Common, Elven Skills and Feats: Bluff +5*, Concentration +10, Disguise +4, Handle Animal +5, Heal +9, Hide +8*, Intuit Direction +3, Survival +8, Knowledge (Nature) +9, Knowledge (Other) +3, Listen +8, Move Silently +8*, Search +2, Spellcraft +8, Spot +5, Swim +5, Wilderness Lore +5*; Alertness, Armor Proficiency (Light), Armor Proficiency (Medium), Dodge, Martial Weapon Proficiency, Mobility, Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Track. *Kitsune have a +4 racial bonus to Hide and Move Silently, Bluff, and Wilderness Lore checks. These bonuses increase by an additional +2 in a forest setting. Special Abilities: Animal Companion, Bonus Languages, Favored Enemy, Low-light Vision, Nature Sense, Resist Nature's Lure, Scent, Spontaneous Casting, Trackless Step, Wild Empathy, Wild Empathy, Woodland Stride. Drd Spells Known (5/4/2): 0--Cure minor wounds, Detect magic, Detect poison, Light, Read magic, 1--Calm animals, Charm animal, Cure light wounds, 2--Barkskin, Cat's grace. Racial Spells Known: 0--Dancing lights, Entangle, Ghost sound, Pass without trace, Silent image, Speak with animals. Racial Spells Prepared: 0--Dancing lights, Entangle, Ghost sound, Pass without trace, Silent image, Speak with animals. Background: In the Year of the Curse, 882 DR, the once mighty elven realm of Eaerlann found itself besieged. At the height of the turmoil, the warrior Elavel Evrilow, scion of the Evrilow house, as his wife fled in cowardice. As such, his moonblade, the symbol of his family’s pride, found him unworthy and went dormant. Shamed, Elavel hid the weapon and journeyed further and further east, seeking to put distance between him and his shame. A century of wandering led him to the far lands of Kara-Tur. It was not until the Year of the Trumpet, 1301 DR, that Elavel was finally able to conceive a son, though his beloved wife would die in childbirth. Elavel educated the young Sarion in the truest values of the elven race, putting emphasis on courage and duty, things which Elavel had failed in doing. He enlightened the young elf of his unfortunate history and the loss of the Evrilows’ finest heirloom. Though he educated him in the use of many martial tools, Sarion became enamored with the thought of returning to Faerun and reclaiming all that had been theirs and so vowed never to a weapon in combat until the moonblade was restored to him. It was so that Sarion took the path of the martial artist. Elavel Evrilow died in shame, though filled with hope that his son would restore what he had brought low. Sarion journeyed the East, learning from others and through his own experiences, always vying for more strength and skill. It was during these sojourns that Sarion discovered that he too had the spark of the arcane. Yet through all his acquired skills, he remembered the core of his training and developed skills that would complement his martial abilities. Now, Sarion travels west to the lands of his ancestors, ready to make his own destiny. Description: Sarion stands only about five inches above five feet, as most elves go. His hair is emerald green, a prevalent trait of the Evrilow bloodline, which he wears in a ponytail that ends between his shoulder blades. His kind though mischievous blue eyes belie a powerful cunning, a staunch sense of duty, and a menagerie of inner strengths. In returning to Faerun, Sarion has scrounged up any article of western garb he could find and so has uniquely bewildering attire. Personality: He is often pleasant to talk to, witty and knowledgeable, and at times giving into bouts of humorous eccentricity. However, Sarion has sworn to reclaim his family’s moonblade and this duty is his priority. He becomes bitter when speaking of his family, though not his intention. He tries his best to avoid this and is wary of his need to keep his emotions in order. Great stuff! *puts DM hat on* I think you should dive into your background more, names, places, faces, laces (?) I like it when a background is written as if its the character telling you the reader his/her life story so far and their hopes dreams for the future. A confessional if you will. :) Good one.
Bladesong 08-26-06, 03:24 PM	Thanks. I'm still developing his story. What do wish to know more about? When you say 'confessional', are you refering to something like those brooding Drizzt essays?
Gallameed 08-27-06, 03:30 AM	Thanks. I'm still developing his story. What do wish to know more about? When you say 'confessional', are you refering to something like those brooding Drizzt essays? You write stuff down and muse on paper/keyboard while in your spanking new characters head; find a voice for Sarion Evrilow, what makes him worry, laugh, angry and the little things (like what his favorite colour is) that give the big things about him more meaning. What expression does his face normally have, any quotes you could place at the bottom/top of your character sheet that would ''turn the key in your ignition'' once you sit down at the table to play him. :) I find stuff like this helps both players and DM's. All depends on the type of group you have and the way they roleplay though at the end of the day. ;) Good luck.
Garidas 08-27-06, 11:59 AM	Great work, more people gonna show me/us? -Garidas P.S. my character is gonna be in work for some time.
Bladesong 08-28-06, 04:14 AM	You write stuff down and muse on paper/keyboard while in your spanking new characters head; find a voice for Sarion Evrilow, what makes him worry, laugh, angry and the little things (like what his favorite colour is) that give the big things about him more meaning. What expression does his face normally have, any quotes you could place at the bottom/top of your character sheet that would ''turn the key in your ignition'' once you sit down at the table to play him. :) I find stuff like this helps both players and DM's. All depends on the type of group you have and the way they roleplay though at the end of the day. ;) Good luck. Seems like a fair bit of work :P . I'll tell you what. When WotC hires me to write novels for them in a couple of years, my main character will be this guy. :D
Gallameed 08-28-06, 06:57 AM	Seems like a fair bit of work :P . I'll tell you what. When WotC hires me to write novels for them in a couple of years, my main character will be this guy. :D OOooh, mention me in the acknowledgements! ;)
Bladesong 08-28-06, 02:18 PM	Sure, no problem.
Zeorth 08-28-06, 04:15 PM	Is it possible to somehow find the replies from the other post? Also - great work in the character Bladesong!
WhrenKehrsyn 08-29-06, 12:26 AM	Whren Kehrsyn Rogue/Barbarian (Only 1 level of barbarian for the rage.) They said it was raining the day I was born, but no one knows for sure. To whom, or even where I was born is anyone’s guess. All that is known is that it was raining on the surface world the day I appeared at the temple. But even that much is debatable, for the temple is located underneath the city of Waterdeep, in the dark under city of Skullport. An ally of the temple arrived from Waterdeep and found me, swaddled in the drapings of a newborn, tucked warmly in a tiny basket on the temple stairs. His cloak was soaked through as was his hair, and so it is assumed it was raining on the day of my birth. As awkward as it may seem to someone not entirely familiar with the church of Eilistraee, I fit in quite well. The church was composed nearly entirely, though not completely, by drow elves. These drow had come to the surface, and some were born into the church in more recent years, to escape the horrors of their people. Their goals in the long term were to reintegrate their brethren into the surface world, ideally all such drow would change their evil ways and embrace all that is good. It was an admirable, though somewhat lofty, goal. The drow were not alone in this however, a number of surface elves, and a surprising large one at that, belonged to the church and strove for the same ends. Though I am no drow, given my heritage, I am not so dissimilar to them, and perhaps that is why I found myself to fit so easily with them. I have few physical traits to mark me as one descended from some demon or devil, my eyes are colored like dark blood and I have yet to see their match on any other person. However in temperament my heritage can be seen plainly. In young childhood and even to this day I was and am prone to violent outbursts. It was of great concern to the church these sudden and often violent turns I took, after which I had no recollection of events. I have been able to temper this to some degree but it is still of concern to me. So I grew in the care of the church. I was treated well and as one of the drows own. I was taught to sing, to dance, to fight. My strength, it turned out was in my ability to talk to others, to makes friends easily, to know what others most wanted to hear, and to say it. It is somewhat disconcerting to realize, in looking back, how much pleasure I took in misleading others. Not surprisingly I also developed an ability to pass unnoticed wherever I wished and to enter any place I wanted. Though I learned to bypass most locks, and later traps, easily enough, it is curious to note that I never actually took anything that did not belong to me. Maybe the church had instilled some degree of morality in me, but nevertheless the single act of going where I should not was thrilling. But for all that my true passions lay in language and in music. Though the church was in Skullport, underground, there was a portal to the surface. It came to a beautiful glade where the priestesses performed our holidays. I spend a good deal of time there, praying, singing, and dancing in that beautiful place. While the tenants of the church called for doing such things under the moon, I often did it anytime I was able, day or night, and though it is hard to say, more often than not I did it more for the love of doing so than for the sake of my god. Also, on occasion the surface elves of the church would take me up to the surface, to Waterdeep proper and sometimes beyond, for short times. The first time I saw the sea was something I will never forget. We had left Waterdeep and traveled to the coast just south of the city. It was very small in my vision when we stopped. For what we had come out I do not remember, and to be honest I cant say for certain I ever knew or even cared. I went to the shoreline, the roar of the sea filling my ears, and for as far as I could see stretched the endless blue. It was almost a mirror for the bright blue sky, which was also a wonder to me for I did not see it all that often, just slightly darker. I wandered down and waded into the water and sat, almost to my neck, in the water. I felt the shallow waves rush forward into me, and I swayed with the music of the sea. As I got older I would go to that spot more often, and eventually I was even allowed to go alone. I must have been only twelve years or thereabouts when I found a man on the beach. It was cold out, the winter had been a hard one and was only partly past. I was wandering along the coast singing as was my custom when I saw off ahead of me the remains of a boat. It was a long craft and thin. I was not familiar with the style of craft, but of course my knowledge of such things was quite limited. As I approached I heard a muffled moan. I froze, for I did not know what to do. In all honesty I was spooked and I thought I should run away. But I could not run, to help others when I could had been ingrained into me too well. I stood for sometime fending off my fear before I moved closer. I saw a man laying amidst the ruins of the vessel. He was obviously very hurt. As I approached him he looked up at me and I froze. When I saw the pleading and sadness in his eyes my fear dissolved and I dashed forward and began moving what pieces I could off of his body. His soft voice stopped me and he said he needed to tell his story before the end. I would hear nothing of him dying, but he insisted so I stopped and listened. His story was a strange one. He was descended of a people from the northern Moonshae Isles, tired of the constant struggle between their people and the Ffolk of the southern portion of the Isles, his ancestors had set sail looking for a new land to make their home. They had sailed for a long time and were resigned to a death at sea when they finally made landfall on a wonderful new land. They had made a new home for themselves in the form of a small settlement. There they prospered for several generations. But recently a string of droughtful summers and hard winters had devastated them and he, his family, and a small number of others had set sail for their old homeland. The new world had finally defeated them. The passage had been too hard and only he remained. His story complete, he fell into unconsciousness and I knew his end was close. I could not move some of the heavier pieces of debris, and even if I could have I could not carry him all the way to the temple, so I ran there. Bursting into the temple screaming out for help, I got some of the priestesses to go back with me. When we returned there was no breath left in the man. I had seen death and violence before, Skullport is rife with both, but always it was some stranger, some nameless person. Never had I seen death in a manner so real. The priestesses set about tending to the body and preparing for the death rites, but all I could do was stand and gaze at the remains of his craft. I glanced at a small round log that lay just out of the waters reach, and as I stared at it I felt something strange. I began to realized that the man did not die here on this shore, he died in that boat, out at the sea I loved so much, when it took the people he loved from him. My face felt the cold of winter as tears rolled down my face and left quickly freezing wet streaks, as I thought of all the people in my life. What they meant to me, how I would hurt if they were taken from me. And I remembered all the good things also, all the smiles and laughs. As the priestesses called me to leave I went forward and collected up the log. It was thicker than a stick, but rather thin for a log. It was a dark coloring. such a dark brown that in poorer lighting I may have mistook it for black. It had the smell of freshly cut wood, though it could not have been. From then on whenever I heard the song of the sea I would think of the log, and before long I had begun to carve it into a flute, as that was my favorite instrument. Once completed I found that the instrument would play only minor notes, but it made such hauntingly beautiful sounds that I was able to build a small reputation as a musician and I was often hired to play at the parties of Waterdeeps elite. As I got older, because of my gift for speechcraft and because I could more easily go places drow were not welcome, I began to receive requests, as it were, to perform duties for the church, usually in the form of meeting church friends. I was a face for the church on the surface. So it came to pass that I was called forward to join a quest. My church had been aligned with an organization called the Harpers for some time and now an event of some import had occurred and the Harpers wanted aid from their allies. It seemed an artifact of great power had long ago been broken into many parts which had then been entrusted to an equal number of people for safe keeping. Contact with some of the keepers had been lost and this was of great concern. The artifact had been created by the Ilythiiri, ancient ancestors of the drow, and their demon allies, and so the Harpers believed information regarding it could be found at my temple. There was limited information regarding the artifact and the temple felt it necessary to send a representative with the Harper group to discover why communications with some keepers had been lost, recover the pieces if they had been lost, and if necessary ensure the safety of the remaining artifacts and their keepers. The mission would require a good deal of surface travel and so a drow church member was out of the question. My interest in language and the resulting ability to speak numerous languages, coupled with my abilities in speechcraft and other skills made me an ideal candidate. It would be my first foray into the larger world and while I greeted that with a great deal of enthusiasm it was daunting, and even frightening. My companions in the quest were a varied lot, and while I questioned their competence initially I would grow to respect them a great deal and even come to regard them as close as family. The first among them and seemingly the leader was a sun elf wizard called Tralin. I had some limited experience with sun elves in Waterdeep and my feelings for them were that they were a rude and arrogant lot. Tralin changed my opinion, he seemed strange for his kind. Unlike any other elf I had met he seemed to regret his parentage. While he knew and obviously admired his heritage he seemed much more interested in humans. Human culture is what he loved. It was humorous at times to see a sun elf laughing with humans, drinking with them, playing with their children and singing their songs with them in a drunken stupor. He carried a friendly and carefree air, which coupled easily with his elven beauty. He stood tall and his golden skin and hair gave him the look of a golden statue of some ancient proud hero, which all made him easy to follow. Eshrin L'Vat was the last son of a merchant house based out of the Dalelands. His family had, in one horrible and sad night, been all but wiped out by the Zhents. Or so he said. He had been sent on one of the families merchant ships to Sembia for some negotiation or another and so had survived the event. He had returned home to discover his dead relations, but could not find them all and so he believed perhaps a few lived yet. In any case he could not rebuild what had been destroyed, at least not there with the murderers on the look out for him. So he had wandered the Realms looking for any sign that any of his family lived, in particular his sister whom he was very close to. Eshrin was quite the fighter, utilizing the longblade and his natural agility. In appearance he hardly stood out from other humans, his skin was lightly tanned and his hair was black. He had some stubble on his face and though I was him shave on our journeys it seemed that stubble was permanent. He had a sad demeanor, there was always a profound hurt in his eyes and when he turned his gaze to me I always felt as though I should be more grateful for what I had than I was. He was a kind man despite his hurt. We were his family, all of us, though he was closest to Tralin, and I’ve yet to see a man fight more ferociously than Eshrin when any of us were in danger. He bled for us and we all knew he would die for us, his life for ours, and he would do it without a seconds thought. At first I was nervous and even a bit frightened of Nolan Tor. Who would not be scared of a cleric of the god of death? Nolan had reached his middle years and his soft brown hair had become peppered, more gray than brown now, but the brown made a valiant show of itself anyway. He was a quiet man and he kept to himself. Its hard to say there is any kinder person in all of Faerun though. It was a very long time before I learned much about the man. He had watched his parents die, murdered by bandits on the road, when he was a small child. He said a man came to comfort him as he lay wounded on the road and the man told him of the necessity of death, but death in its proper time. He believed it was the god of death and he had committed himself to it, even insisting we bury the bodies of any enemies we fought and killed. At times in the evenings, I often saw him sit and massage the leg that had been injured so many long years before and sometimes he cried. I wondered if he was truly massaging a hurt in his leg, or the one in his heart. The young woman Maeve Brightspire was aptly named. As the only other woman of our group I got along with her best of all. She was a lively woman and always wore a smile on her beautiful face. She was a follower of Liira, the Joybringer, and she certainly brought joy to us all. Not a one of us could keep a frown when she wanted us to smile. She was a fair and pretty woman with beautiful brown hair that flowed like the waves on the sea. Her eyes laughed. There was nothing she loved more than to sing and dance and her music often inspired us to great deeds in our travels. So it came as no surprise when we discovered her to be an aasimar, descended of celestials. It was both a sad and frightening day when I left. I woke early and set about preparing myself for my journey. I had little to take, the leathers I had had my weapons training in, my blades, I had both a longsword and a dagger. I had never been terribly good with the sword but I was quite proficient with a small blade like the dagger, of course my flute, and a few supplies. As I packed, Jesimae, my combat teacher, came to see me. She was quite a beautiful woman, with a slender but very pretty face, all framed by soft white hair. I blush a bit to admit that I had always found myself somewhat attracted to her, though I never told her, it seemed inappropriate, her being my teacher, and us both being women. She chuckled when she saw my sword and I flushed somewhat. She took up the sword and whirled it through some patterns and said, "You’ve never been much of a swordswoman." I smiled and agreed. She put the blade down then glanced at the dagger in its sheath on my hip, "That one will keep you alive longer I think." I nodded. She stared at me a moment then took her own dagger and its sheath from her belt and passed it to me. "A trade, your sword for my dagger? I know the sword, you know the dagger." I accepted and placed the weapon on my belt opposite of my own dagger. Then she reached into a pouch on her belt and brought out a small ring. The thin band was silver and in it sat a dark blue gem, it was clear but of a terribly dark navy blue. "It will help you, when you must fight." I nodded and took it. She smiled, but it was a sad smile, and turned to leave. Tears in my eyes, I dashed to her and hugged her. I knew it may be the last I ever saw of these people, my family. By midday I had said all my tearful good-byes and met my traveling companions. We made our way up from Skullport into Waterdeep, took lunch at a tavern near the gate and left the city. It was the early spring and the winter snows were just beginning to melt. The roads were all slush and mud, but the air was crisp and, though a bit cool, pleasant. My sadness at leaving the temple began to fade as I basked in the cool air and I felt an excitement that grew with each step. I was going to see the world. Everything I had read in the temple library I would now get to see with my own eyes. I would hear the languages spoken, I would see the places, and taste the foods. It would be amazing, how many got the chance to travel the world? Our first stop would be in Shadowdale where we would learn more about where we were going and who we would be going to see. I had been taught to fight. Jesimae had spent long hours with me, but the reality of combat was more terrifying than I had imagined. Just over a day out of Waterdeep we were taken by bandits. We were traveling along the road, I was singing along with Maeve. I really only knew church songs but Maeve had taught me the words to a rather bawdy song about a maiden and her rather questionable maidenhood. The men laughed as we sang and we were caught wholly unprepared. Our singing was interrupted by a painful yelp from Eshrin who went hurling off of his horse. The rest of us pulled to a stop and saw Eshrin rolling in the mud with an arrow jutting from his right shoulder. Then a man stepped onto the road and demanded we give up our belongings. Tralin began to talk to the man while Nolan dismounted to tend to Eshrin. I was concerned for Eshrin and not paying much attention to the conversation, Maeve was and she yelled out to be careful as Tralin rolled off his horse. I quickly dismounted and just in time as a hail of arrows glided into our group. The aim was bad, or maybe it was just that we were all moving and dismounting, but not an arrow of the volley hit a mark. Nolan stood, drew a heavy mace that dangled at his belt and moved towards the man in the road, "Death will come in its time, but this is not it. Stand down or I will be forced to act to defend these lives." The man just laughed. I drew my daggers and looked around, there was at least three other men in the brush off to the side, they had bows. Eshrin was on his feet, sword in hand then. He saw the men in the brush too because he charged straight at them. He swung wildly and missed his mark but the three men scattered and dropped their bows in favor of close combat weapons. I heard Tralin chanting and Maeve begin singing a song about the valor of heroes. Two of the three men were circling around Eshrin while one slunk towards Tralin and Maeve. The man in the road squared off with Nolan. I decided Tralin and Maeve could handle one man and Eshrin was in most need of help. So I maneuvered around them to come up from behind. They swung at Eshrin, one going low and the other high. He gave ground weaving his sword in a defensive pattern. Coming up behind one I carefully aimed my attack and struck. I felt the blade slide into the mans body. It was a disconcerting feeling but a strangely appealing one. I was only vaguely aware of his scream, the sensation of his warm blood pouring over my hand had drawn me away from the world. The smell of it gave me shivers and all I could think of was the smell. My vision faded out. I came to drenched in blood. All the attacking men were dead and my companions were all staring at me wide eyed. I did not know why but looking down I saw what was left of the man I had stabbed, it was very little and a very large portion of it was on me. My companions had been told about my heritage, and my tendency for such outbursts by the temple, they come on in times of heightened emotion, but all the talk of it seemingly was not enough to prepare them.
Garidas 08-29-06, 03:32 AM	Nice to see more from you guys. -Garidas
Xysma 08-29-06, 10:21 AM	Gors Ack-Stormaire, Male Half-Orc Rgr2/Ftr4: CR 6; AL CG; Medium Humanoid (Orc); HD 2d8+4d10+12; hp 55 (Disabled -2/Dying -15/Injury 15); Init +3; Spd 20; AC 21 (FF 18, Touch 14); Atk +12/+7 base melee, +9/+4 base ranged; Grapple +12; +14/+9 Melee (+1 Greatsword 2d6+12/crit 19-20/x2); +10/+5 Ranged (Longbow, composite ( +6 Str Bonus), Masterwork 1d8+6/crit 20/x3); +13/+8 Melee (Greatclub, Masterwork 1d10+9/crit 20/x2); +13/+8 Melee (Silver, Alchemical Dagger, Masterwork 1d4+5/crit 19-20/x2) SQ: Darkvision (Ex): 60 ft. Ranger Features: Favored Enemies (1), Wild Empathy (2+Cha.Mod), Track, Ranger Combat Style, Favored Enemy: Undead (+2), Archery, Rapid Shot; Fighter Features: Bonus Feat (3), Proficiency: Tower Shield; Racial Features: Orc Blood Saves: Fort +10, Ref +8, Will +4 Abilities: STR 22, DEX 16, CON 15, INT 14, WIS 14, CHA 8 Skills: Balance +0, Climb +8, Escape Artist +0, Handle Animal +4, Heal +4, Hide +0, Jump +2, Knowledge (Dungeoneering) +7, Knowledge (Geography) +7, Knowledge (Nature) +9, Listen +8, Move Silently +0, Ride +5, Spot +7, Survival +7, Swim +2, Tumble +5. Feats: Armor Proficiency: heavy, Cleave, Weapon Specialization: Greatsword, Track, Necropotent: Greatsword, Rapid Shot, Weapon Focus: Greatsword, Armor Proficiency: medium, Tower Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Power Attack, Shield Proficiency, Great Cleave, Armor Proficiency: light. Weapons: +1 Greatsword; Arrows (50); Axe, ice; Greatclub, Masterwork; Holy water (flask) x4; Longbow, composite ( +6 Str Bonus), Masterwork; Silver, Alchemical Dagger, Masterwork. Armor: +2 Breastplate. (Spell Failure 25%). Goods: Backpack; Bandoleer; Bedroll; Blanket, winter; Coin: cp (8); Coin: gp (703); Coin: sp (9); Ghostoil (2); Grappling hook; Holy symbol, silver; Potion Belt; Quicksilver (2); Red Helmthorn Berry (4); Rope, silk (50 ft.); Traveler`s outfit; Whetstone. Magic: Potion of Cure Light Wounds (1) x6; Ring of Protection +1; Potion of Restoration, Lesser (3); Vest of Resistance +1. The Tale of Gors Ack-Stormaire of Lathander 1374 Year of Lightning Storms Decades ago in the Bloodstone Land of Vaasa, on the shores of the Lake of Tears, Zhengyi the Witch King used his demonic allies to raise a fell fortress known as Castle Perilous in a single night. With the aid of his demons, he assembled hosts of dire wolves, giants, goblins, orcs, and undead to conquer Damara. In The Year of the Serpent (1359 DR) Gareth Dragonsbane, Paladin of Ilmater, led a band of adventurers against the Witch King. Dragonsbane and company defeated Zhengyi, ending the twelve year war between Damara and Vaasa. Among the many beasts and fell creatures that served in the armies of the Witch-King was the Blood Elk orc tribe from southern Vaasa. The Blood Elk tribe answered the Witch-King’s call in The Year of the Crown (1351 DR), sending a war-party of twelve warriors to fight the humans of Damara. This was the first war-party excursion for Makh, the youngest orc in the band of marauders. Although Makh was large, even by orc standards, and a gifted hunter and fighter, the isolation of the Blood Elk tribe made conflicts with humans rare, and virtually nonexistent in the fifteen years of Makh’s life. Young Makh had long felt that he was somehow different than the orcs in his tribe, and these differences would soon become quite evident to the young orc. During their first tenday of travel, the Blood Elk war-party came across a small human caravan. The older orcs, having had no outlet for their natural savagery for many years, became overtaken with blood frenzy and charged the tough, but out-numbered humans. Although human arrows took down several of the orcs, most of the party caught up to the humans as they retreated behind the circle of wagons they had formed. As Makh watched in horror, his companions brutalized and raped a young woman who had failed to retreat behind their defenses, as well as her would-be rescuer. Disgusted and infuriated by this sight, Makh sprang into action to defend the humans. The orcs, thinking their ally was simply coming to take his share, were caught completely unaware. Makh had killed four of the orcs before they figured out what was going on, a young human woman also realized their unexpected ally had turned the tide of battle to the humans’ favor, and led a charge over the barricade to help the orc who was now becoming quickly overpowered in spite of his impressive strength and prowess. Makh, along with his new human allies, defeated the remaining orcs. The young woman who had led the charge was a ranger in service of Mielikki, who had picked up a few orcish words over the years. She introduced herself as Garsha, and tried vainly to express her thanks in orc, a language with no words to express gratitude. Makh, not fully understanding this strange and beautiful creature before him, understood enough to realize that she and her allies meant him no harm. Makh stayed with the humans as they finished their journey to the small human settlement that Garsha called home. This was also the settlement of the young woman who had been raped by the orcs, but thanks to Makh, she still had her life. Once the tale of his bravery had circulated among the settlement, Makh was welcomed into the community. He came to be known as Vriunt Stormaire, which roughly translates from Damaran into the common tongue as “A friend and fighter.” Garsha began teaching Makh common, and in time the two became lovers and were married by the village priest. On the sixth day of Tarsakh in the Year of the Dragon (1352 DR), the couple gave birth to a son. They named the child Gors Ack-Stormaire, which translates to, “Large son of the fighter.” Young Gors grew up in a loving family, which is rare among half-orcs because of their usually violent heritage. From a young age, Garsha taught Gors the ways of the wilderness and the teachings of Mielikki. Like all good younglings in the Bloodstone Lands, Gors grew up hearing tales of King Dragonsbane and dreamed of the day he could fight alongside his hero. Vriunt became close friends with the family of the woman he had saved and showed a keen interest in their faith in the Morninglord. Vriunt was moved by the tenets of rebirth taught in the dogma of Lathander, believing himself reborn on the day he chose the path of good over the savagery of his former kin. Everything Vriunt learned of Lathander he would share with Garsha and Gors. While Garsha remained true to her faith in Mielikki, she supported her husband’s belief in Lathander, encouraging Gors to decide for himself what path in life he would choose. Vriunt’s faith in Lathander grew and under the tutelage of the village priest he learned the secrets of divine magic and received the blessing of Lathander, becoming a priest himself. Gors’ path would take a major change when Garsha and Vriunt moved their family to Palischuk in The Year of the Turrett (1360 DR), one year after the fall of the Witch-King, in order to spread the faith of the Morninglord to the half-orcs of the fledgling city. Once in ruins, the city was rebuilt by half-orcs who had befriended the human and dwarven settlements nearby. Palischuk lies east of the ruins of Castle Perilous, where the local rangers and fighters patrol the area surrounding the castle, always on guard for signs of trouble from the haunted and mysterious castle. Gors continued his training as a ranger, and helped his father run the small church of Lathander. By his fifteenth summer, Gors had become an accomplished ranger and fighter, leading many of the patrols that guarded the borders of the city. With his father’s church established and the city reaching levels of prosperity undreamed of, Gors became restless and decided to leave his home and travel to Damara to pledge his service to King Dragonsbane. After saying goodbye to his loving parents; Gors left his home in Palischuk and began the trek to Damara. Upon reaching Damara, Gors traveled to Heliogabalus, the capital of Damara, and was impressed with the Paladins of Ilmater in service of King Dragonsbane. Having grown up among rangers and half-orcs in the wilds of Vaasa, Gors quickly became self-conscious of his rugged appearance. The impressionable young half-orc began to mimic the appearance of the human paladins, cutting is hair in the fashion popular among the paladins and wearing clothes more acceptable in the metropolis. Gors was accepted into the militia of Heliogabalus and began training with the fighters and paladins stationed there. Upon reaching his eighteenth birthday in The Year of the Tankard (1370 DR), Gors’ physical attributes had become impressive by any standard, and he was well respected among his brothers-in-arms. In spite of his success, Gors still felt somewhat out of place as one of the few warriors not part of the Ilmatari faith. Gors looked forward to the visits from his fellow Lathanderites, who often escorted merchant caravans to Heliogabalus. On one such visit, Gors decided to seek permission from his superiors to leave Damara and travel to the Western Heartlands with a cleric of Lathander who ensured Gors that he could find a place for him among the church of Lathander. Although Gors had long since determined that the life of a paladin was not the path Lathander had chosen for him, he found acceptance among the church of Lathander and built close friendships with his adventuring companions. Gors’ strength and experience fighting against undead made him a powerful force for good among the Lathanderites. The church recognized Gors value, and as a show of gratitude for his faithful service, on his twentieth birthday in The Year of Wild Magic (1372 DR), Gors was presented with a magical greatsword which he named “Lightbringer.” In the two years that followed, Gors trained diligently with his new weapon, honing his fighting skills to near perfection, particularly focused on battling undead. In The Year of Lightning Storms (1374 DR), Gors and his companions were sent on a mission for the church that would change their lives forever.
Xysma 08-29-06, 10:38 AM	Carrow "Crow" Brayth, Male FR-Region: Chessenta Human Rog10/Ftr6/DrdPrt1: CR 17; AL N; Medium Humanoid; HD 10d6+6d10+1d8+34; hp 151 (Disabled -2/Dying -14/Injury 14); Init +6; Spd 40; AC 33 (FF 33, Touch 24); Atk +20/+15/+10 base melee, +20/+15/+10 base ranged; Grapple +20; +22/+17/+12 Melee (+3 Adamantine Cutlass 1d6+11+2d6/crit 17-20/x2) and +20/+15 Melee (+2 Hook 1d6+5+1d6/crit 19-20/x3); +22/+17/+12 Ranged (+2 Dagger 1d4+8+1d6/crit 19-20/x2); Rogue Features: Sneak Attack +7d6, Trapfinding, Evasion, Trap Sense +3, Uncanny Dodge, Improved Uncanny Dodge, Special Abilities (1), Improved Evasion; Fighter Features: Bonus Feat (4), Proficiency: Tower Shield; Dread Pirate Features: Feat, Seamanship (Ex), Skill: Profession (Sailor) +1, Saves: Fort +15, Ref +22, Will +15 Abilities: STR 22, DEX 22, CON 14, INT 20, WIS 16, CHA 13 Skills: Appraise +13, Balance +15, Bluff +10, Climb +16, Decipher Script +10, Diplomacy +10, Disable Device +22, Escape Artist +16, Intimidate +20, Jump +27, Knowledge (Local - Calimshan) +6, Knowledge (Local - Chessenta) +10, Listen +20, Move Silently +11.5, Open Lock +16, Profession (Sailor) +12, Search +21, Sense Motive +15, Sleight of Hand +16, Spot +20, Swim +20, Tumble +25, Use Rope +10. Feats: Armor Proficiency: heavy, Weapon Specialization: Cutlass, Water Heritage, Weapon Focus: Cutlass, Armor Proficiency: medium, Improved Two-Weapon Fighting, Tower Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Quick Draw, Shield Proficiency, Improved Critical: Cutlass, Iron Will, Weapon Finesse, Two-Weapon Fighting, Two-Weapon Fighting, Armor Proficiency: light, Fearless, Improved Toughness. Weapons: +1 Ballista, Heavy: Flaming; +2 Dagger: Frost, Distance, Returning; +2 Hook: Flaming Burst, Keen; +3 Adamantine Cutlass: Corrosive, Flaming; Ballista, Heavy x3; Javelin of Lightning x6. Armor: +5 Mithral Chain shirt: Axeblock. (Spell Failure 10%). Goods: Armor Plating: Adamantine (per Section); Armor Plating: Wood (per Section) (3); Bandoleer; Coin: gp (627); Coin: pp (30); Emerald (2) (2,000 gp); Fishhook; Fishing net, 25 sq. ft.; Flint and steel; Grappling hook; Longship; Masterwork Controls (Huge Vehicle); Potion Belt, Masterwork; Ramming Prow/Plate (Huge); Rope, silk (50 ft.); Rotating Platform; Thieves` tools, Masterwork (2); White pearl (100 gp). Magic: Bag of Holding, type II; Bag of Tricks, Rust; Belt of Giant Strength +6; Boots of Striding and Springing; Bracers of Dexterity; Potion of Cure Serious Wounds (5) x10; Dust of Dryness; Earring of Natural Armor +4; Everfull Mug; Potion of Gaseous Form (6) x2; Glove of Storing; Hand of Glory; Hat of Disguise; Heward`s Handy Haversack x2; Potion of Invisibility (4) x2; Mutineer`s Eye, Greater; Potion of Neutralize Poison (8) x2; Ring of Nine Lives; Portable Bridge; Ring of Protection +4; Quiver of Ehlonna; Potion of Remove Blindness/Deafness (5) x3; Potion of Remove Curse (8) x2; Potion of Remove Disease (8) x2; Potion of Restoration, Lesser (3) x3; Potion of Salve of Minor Spell Resistance; Troll Gut Rope; Vest of Resistance +5. Carrow “Crow” Brayth Carrow Brayth was born in Cimbar in 1350 DR to Rand and Danys Brayth. Rand Brayth was a working-class merchant who struggled to make a living for his family. An ill-fated “partnership” with Blain Tenfold left Rand with nothing. Shortly after losing his business, Rand learned that Danys was pregnant with their second child. Faced with another mouth to feed, in 1354 Rand took work as a dockhand to make ends meet. After the birth of his daughter Scylla, Rand became increasingly despondent over his situation. Miserable with his life, and obsessed with the betrayal that led him to poverty, Rand turned to drink, eventually leaving his family in 1361 to work on a merchant ship sailing from Cimbar to Selgaunt. A year after he set sail, Danys had heard nothing from Rand, believing him dead, told her two children the terrible news. Carrow was heartbroken, but more importantly, he was determined not to work himself to death as his father had. With his father gone, twelve-year-old Carrow was left to care for his mother and his young sister. Carrow took to the streets, surviving on his wits rather than the backbreaking labor that had destroyed his father. Carrow found that he was a decent thief, picking pockets and running scams on travelers. By the time he was fourteen, Carrow managed to provide a comfortable living for his mother and sister. Carrow was taken in by an upstart thieves’ guild in Cimbar known as the Dock Street Rats. It was during his time with the Rats that Carrow learned to fight. He had taken to carrying his father’s old dagger, and he became pretty handy with it. His best friend in the guild was an older boy named Ioz. This friendship would have a lasting effect on Carrow since it was Ioz that began calling him “Crow” and the name stuck. Soon he was known throughout the docks simply as “Crow.” Ioz also taught Crow how to open locks, as well as find traps and disable them. Crow never took to second story work; the idea of stealing from someone’s home just didn’t sit right with him. However, he had no problems stealing from the wealthy merchant warehouses and ships docked in harbor, and was able to buy his mother and sister a nice house in the better part of Cimbar, away from the docks. The sixteen year-old Crow thought he had found his life’s calling until the day he stole from the wrong ship. While working the docks, Crow slipped into a merchant ship and lifted several hundred gold pieces from the cargo hold. The “merchant ship” turned out to be the Umberlee’s Fate, captained by the infamous pirate Flint Ganzalee. Crow was caught on his way off the ship and faced certain death at the hands of the pirates. It was at this point that Crow learned of his father’s true fate. The “merchant ship” that his father had sailed with was in fact the Umberlee’s Fate and his father was alive and well, working as one of the mates aboard the Fate. Rand bargained with Flint for his son’s life, and Flint agreed that Crow could work off his debt by sailing with the crew of the Fate. After making arrangements with one of the dock workers to deliver a message to his mother, Crow set sail the following day to begin his life as a pirate. The skills that Crow had learned on the streets of Cimbar served him well, and soon he was well respected among the crew, although the anger he felt toward his father for abandoning his family kept father and son apart. Crow honed his fighting during the many ship-to-ship battles that are part of a pirate’s life. Crow became deadly with his cutlass, and learned to be as good a sailor as he was a fighter. Once he had repaid his debt to Captain Flint, Crow was free to go, but he stayed on as part of the crew of the Fate. His newfound freedom allowed him to take shore leave whenever the Fate was in dock, and he relished his hard won freedom. Each time the Fate docked in Cimbar, Crow would visit his mother and give her a portion of his share of whatever the crew had stolen during its voyage. Crow never told her of his father’s true fate, preferring to let her believe that he had died trying to provide for her and his children. During a shore leave while stationed in Luthcheq, Crow saw two thugs shadowing a fancy-looking halfling. With no real reason for doing so, Crow called out to the halfling that he was being followed. The two thugs panicked and ran toward the halfling, but were quickly rendered unconscious by rocks hurled with deadly precision by the halfling. The halfling looted the unconscious men, and then introduced himself to Crow. He introduced himself as Baron Phlensos Ursuma, of Ursuman Amusement Emporium in the Adder Swamp. In recognition of his well-timed warning, Phlensos invited Crow to his fiefdom for food, drink, and room and board. Though just a small area of less than two square miles in the Adder Swamp, and situated between the constantly warring factions of wererats and werecrocodiles, the Ursuman Amusement Emporium is a thriving community. Phlensos is a bard of renown, and bards from all around Chessenta come to the Emporium to study and trade information. Phlensos has even enlisted a werecrocodile named Grevas as the Captain of the Ursuman Guard. Ursuma at once fascinated Crow; so many halflings hard at work and play was something Crow had never seen before. The Emporium itself is a halfling sized stone keep, but there are human sized dwellings scattered throughout Ursuma for visiting “large-folk” and for Grevas. Crow spent much of his time with Grevas upon his arrival to Ursuma, but that changed when he became enamored with a female halfling. Zania Brightflower, a female halfling bard, had developed quite a crush on Crow, and the two became inseparable. She taught him to juggle and stand on his head so he could remain in compliance with the few rules of the Emporium. He trained with the halflings in whistling, knife throwing, distance spitting, wrestling, foot races, and log rolling. While some of these seem to be quaint halfling pastimes, all of them are actually barely hidden drills in home defense. Knife throwing and wrestling are obviously applicable, although disguised by the presence of ale. Other defense mechanisms are more devious. First, the Ursumans have developed a set of whistling codes that can alert anyone nearby of danger. Simple messages ("fire" or "wererats," for instance) can be relayed across the entire barony literally in seconds. Next, most Ursumans carry small vials of hot pepper powder somewhere in their belongings. The powdered pepper is painfully hot in a person's mouth, but outright caustic when it gets in someone's eyes. Finally, the swampland of Ursuma is littered with logs that the halflings have dragged in place. When wererats or unruly werecrocodiles decide to attack the barony, the Ursumans lure them onto these slippery logs and begin rolling. Anyone caught on a log with an Ursuman halfling must succeed at an opposed Balance check or fall prone into the swamp muck. Zania taught Crow to make Ursuman Pepper Powder, and showed him the proper way to spit it at foes. Crow and Zania were married four months after he arrived in Ursuman, and they spent the remaining two months of his leave in matrimonial bliss. When the time came for Crow to head back out to sea, Zania offered to go and stay with Crow’s sister and mother in Cimbar, but Crow refused, not wanting her to leave her people and her life behind. Crow told her that this was his home now, and that he would return as quickly as possible. In Flamerule 1369, the Fate was attacked by a rival band of pirates led by Thanos Blackiron, and barely managed to escape intact. Many crewmen were killed, including Crow’s father. It was during this battle that Crow lost his left hand and eye, but gained his magical cutlass “Azerlan.” As fate would have it, Crow ended up in melee combat with a large half-orc wielding a softly glowing cutlass. Crow managed to dodge the first attack, but stumbled against the ship’s railing. Crow watched in amazement as the cutlass cut completely through his wrist and the railing, sending his hand into the murky depths. Crow then narrowly avoided a blow aimed for his neck, and the half-orc’s cutlass claimed Crow’s eye rather than his life. Thinking Crow had been defeated, the half-orc turned to face a new enemy, but this was his last mistake. Crow took this opportunity to shove his cutlass through the half-orc’s back, piercing his lung. Crow then picked up the magical cutlass and decapitated the half-orc before collapsing on the deck next to his foe. By the time the Fate limped into dock, there was nothing the clerics could do to restore his hand or his eye, so Crow sought out a wizard who was capable of creating grafts. Crow learned of a man named Kylan Dunstar, a wizard who had sailed with pirate ships throughout his career, but had recently retired. Kylan had become an expert in creating magical grafts, to replace missing limbs and other body parts lost at sea. The wizard replaced Crow’s hand with an enchanted hook laced with alchemical silver. Crow’s eye was replaced with a magical graft known as the Mutineer’s Eye. The smooth black glass eye would not restore Crow’s vision, but it would make him a more formidable opponent in battle, by helping him more easily find his enemies’ weak spots. Back in decent health and good spirits, Crow returned home to the Adder Swamp and his lovely wife. Zania was at first troubled by Crow’s appearance and worried about his health, but upon hearing his tale, she was just happy to have him back home alive. During his recovery, Crow visited Phlensos to see if he could learn anything about the script he had found engraved on his newly acquired cutlass. Phlensos was able to determine that “Azerlan” was the word engraved on the blade of the cutlass, and Amman Loshka, a visiting bard-priest of Deneir, provided Crow with the translation. Amman surmised that this was in fact the name of the weapon itself. The first element of the name, “Acer” was an old Chessentan word meaning “sharp” that had fallen out of use in the early to mid 1200s. The second element of the name came from another old Chessentan word, “lamna” which could be loosely translated as “edge.” Based on these findings, the cutlass named “Azerlan” or “Sharp Edge” was assumed to be around 150 years old and of Chessentan origin. Phlonsos then examined it for any magical properties. Phlonsos confirmed that the cutlass was magically enhanced, but that its most important feature was the material from which it was made. He informed Crow that the cutlass had been forged from adamantine which, he explained, is the hardest metal known to man. This explained the heaviness of the blade, and the ease with which it sliced through Crow’s wrist and the ship’s railing. Crow continued to sail with Captain Flint for the next several years, fighting and pillaging ships across the Sea of Fallen Stars and making a name for himself as a pirate to be feared. While docked in the Pirate Isles, assassins killed Captain Flint and most of his crew in their sleep. The next day, Thanos Blackiron, the bastard responsible for the attack in the Pirate Isles, as well as the attack that claimed Crow’s father, commandeered the Fate. Crow snuck out of the pirate isles as a stowaway on the Cyric’s Truth, and managed to make his way back to Cimbar before going home to Ursuma. Since his return to Ursuma, Crow has been laying low, waiting to take his revenge on Thanos Blackiron. Crow is usually found in Ursuma with Zania, but he does still travel to Cimbar regularly to visit his mother and sister, his old friend Ioz, and the few remaining survivors from the Umberlee’s Fate. Crow still takes care of his mother and sister, although his sister, now 19 years old, seems to be following in her brother’s footsteps, using her beauty and charm to become a quite successful thief. Although the Dock Street Rats have disbanded, Ioz is still working in Cimbar and has looked after Scylla over the years, and the two have recently started working together. Of course, it doesn’t hurt Scylla’s reputation that her brother is the infamous pirate Crow, a fact that Scylla often uses to her advantage. Crow has been sailing with The *****’s Heart, a man-of-war captained by Marrek Highcastle of Tempus. The *****’s Heart is a privateer sanctioned by some of the wealthiest merchants of Cimbar. This arrangement provides the crew of The *****’s Heart with a safe haven in Cimbar, at the cost of five shares. Crow has also been hiring himself out as a mercenary, working with many adventurers that frequent the Emporium. Crow has been enjoying this type of work since the rewards are usually greater than a simple share of booty, and he is normally not gone for months at a time, which is common for sailors. Zania prefers the adventuring life for Crow over the pirate’s life, but she knows she will never take the pirate completely out of Crow, nor would she wish to. Zania understands what a fickle ***** Umberlee is, and she knows it’s only a matter of time before the sea will claim all who sail her. For this reason, she encourages Crow to take on adventures that don’t involve piracy. Crow however, dreams of the day he will captain his own ship and seek his vengeance against Blackiron. Characters Baron Phlensos Ursuma (CN male halfling Brd14) Grevas (NE male werecrocodile Rgr6) Zania Brightflower (CG female halfling Brd4/Rog2) Ioz (CN male human Rog10) Scylla Brayth (CN female Rog3) Thanos Blackiron (CE male human Rogue 4/ Fighter 3/ Dishonor. Dread Pirate 5) Merrick Highcastle (CG male human Rogue 3/ Fighter 4/ Honor. Dread Pirate 6) Amman Loshka (CG male human Bard 4/ Cleric of Deneir 4) Kylan Dunstar (NG male human Expert3/ Wizard 8) Feat: Graft Flesh (Dragon318) Skills: Heal 10 ranks. Bear in mind that Crow's history only covers his adventures up until around 7th level and he's now at 17th. He has since gotten his own ship and crew, and travelled to Calimshan where he ran afoul of an assassin's guild, then uncovered a Sharran cult and retrieved an evil relic. He and his companions then travelled to Sigil to deliver the artifact to an Illumian cabal for safeguarding, but circumstances forced Crow to flee Sigil in a hurry so he got teleported to the Moonsea region and made his way back to Calimport.
Garidas 08-29-06, 10:43 AM	Great, two characters, that is how I like it... shouts* "Next, I will like to see more." -Garidas
Bladesong 08-29-06, 05:59 PM	That's a lot of reading. Unfortunately, mine isn't as developed seeing as he's a new character.
Xysma 08-30-06, 10:58 AM	That's a lot of reading. Unfortunately, mine isn't as developed seeing as he's a new character. Actually, these are the character histories that I developed before I ever played these characters. I'm playing Gors for the first time tonight!
Bladesong 08-31-06, 03:14 PM	I see. So what you're subtly intoning to me is that I should have spent more time developing my character history, eh? Them's fighting words where I come from, boyo.
Xysma 08-31-06, 03:18 PM	I see. So what you're subtly intoning to me is that I should have spent more time developing my character history, eh? Them's fighting words where I come from, boyo. Not really, I often play a character for at least one gaming session before I start working on his history. In these two instances, I did not do that. I honestly don't know if I prefer one way over the other, they both have their advantages.
Bladesong 08-31-06, 03:41 PM	Hehe I see. Well, this thread seems a little barren of what it wants to achieve, so maybe I'll post an updated bio if I ever find the time.
MerrikCale 09-01-06, 01:26 PM	I usually develope the history at least in part prior to playing them.