*ahem* Welcome to Hero Craftsmen #19, where you make a character and get it voted on according to all its facets by our judges, to see who can make the best character!
This time our chosen theme is Hunters and Gatherers, in honor of those who facilitate the Thanksgiving feasts this time of year. Your goal for this Hero Craftsman contest is to make a character suitable for use as a hunter or gatherer. While somebody who hunts game is certainly valid, feel free to stretch your imagination to meet the goal. A cleric of Pelor determined to end the undead scourge could easily fit the bill of a hunter. Similarly, the diviner intent on finding ancient lore no matter the location is quite suitable as a gatherer.
The required level for this competition is 12th level, with 88,000gp to spend on magic items and equipment, though no more than 29,333gp can be spent on any one item.
The following section contains the specific rules of the competition, as well as the standards for how the characters will be scored, and general tips to consider when creating a submission.
The Rules
Contest Rules
The following are rules for the Hero Craftsmen competition, and are subject to change at any time between competition periods.
Do note that the Code of Conduct is in effect for all aspects of this contest, and those who break it will be disqualified, and their post will be reported.
Character Creation Parameters
Effective Character Level (ECL): 12th
Ability Score Generation: 28 pt. buy (DMG p.169)
Character Wealth: 88,000gp
Max. Value of any single item: 29,333gp
1) All entries must be submitted with a complete stat block of any format or length, (so long as the stat block is complete, including content like equipment, skills, special abilities etc.) accompanied by a character background also of any format or length.
2) All entries must be submitted by the date and time given by the Coordinating Judge; any entries submitted late will not be judged but they are still allowed to be commented on by other users/judges, and may provide a valuable resource to other players out there. The time given for any competition is likely to be within 2-3 weeks; the exact times and dates will be stated by the Coordinating Judge during the contest's start.
3) After submitting an entry, a 30-minute grace period is allowed to edit your work, in the case of mechanical or formatting errors, typos, and the like. Editing your work after 30 minutes is considered breaking the rules. Hence, we urge you to revise your entry thoroughly prior to submitting it, to save hassle. Making use of the preview button in the post window will help you catch most errors before posting.
4) One Entry Per Contestant, and that creator must be the submitter (meaning that all work has to be original, and not stolen from someone else.) Also, do not post an entry if you do not want it to be officially judged.
5) At the start of each competition, the coordinating judge will state a single theme around which to base your entry. There are no restrictions based on the character theme itself; it is merely a suggested guideline, but following it in a creative and interesting way will give merit to your entry.
6) There are other restrictions, however. Material in the three core books is allowed. Any material found in the following books is also permitted: Expanded Psionics Handbook, Complete Adventurer, Complete Arcane, Complete Divine, Complete Warrior, Complete Mage, Complete Scoundrel, Complete Champion, Complete Psionic, Player's Handbook II, Tome of Battle, Tome of Magic, Races of Destiny, Races of Stone, Races of the Wild, Races of the Dragon, Dragon Magic, Magic Item Compendium and Spell Compendium. The use of Psionics, Item Creation rules, Epic Characters, and anything else in the Official SRD is permitted. No other rules sources -- including any variant Unearthed Arcana rules available on non-official SRD sites -- are permitted for use in this round of the contest.
7) Additionally, the character must be created with the wealth parameters discussed above, with average hit points per hit die (eg-2.5hp for d4, 3.5hp for d6, 4.5hp for d8, 5.5hp for d10, 6.5hp for d12; Max hit points at 1st level), using the 28 point-buy system, as discussed in the DMG pg169.
For those who do not have access to the DMG, the following sample arrays of scores have been set up for your convenience:
18, 14, 12, 10, 8, 8
15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10
8) One special rule regarding Crafting: When crafting a magic item from your character, you may pay the 50% gp cost and ignore the XP cost. However, your character must still meet all prerequisites in spells, minimum level requirements, etc., or account for the cost of hiring a spell caster to cast the spells for you.
9) Judges reserve the right to disqualify entries that do not follow the above rules, as they see fit.
The following are rules for the Hero Craftsmen competition, and are subject to change at any time between competition periods.
Do note that the Code of Conduct is in effect for all aspects of this contest, and those who break it will be disqualified, and their post will be reported.
Character Creation Parameters
Effective Character Level (ECL): 12th
Ability Score Generation: 28 pt. buy (DMG p.169)
Character Wealth: 88,000gp
Max. Value of any single item: 29,333gp
1) All entries must be submitted with a complete stat block of any format or length, (so long as the stat block is complete, including content like equipment, skills, special abilities etc.) accompanied by a character background also of any format or length.
2) All entries must be submitted by the date and time given by the Coordinating Judge; any entries submitted late will not be judged but they are still allowed to be commented on by other users/judges, and may provide a valuable resource to other players out there. The time given for any competition is likely to be within 2-3 weeks; the exact times and dates will be stated by the Coordinating Judge during the contest's start.
3) After submitting an entry, a 30-minute grace period is allowed to edit your work, in the case of mechanical or formatting errors, typos, and the like. Editing your work after 30 minutes is considered breaking the rules. Hence, we urge you to revise your entry thoroughly prior to submitting it, to save hassle. Making use of the preview button in the post window will help you catch most errors before posting.
4) One Entry Per Contestant, and that creator must be the submitter (meaning that all work has to be original, and not stolen from someone else.) Also, do not post an entry if you do not want it to be officially judged.
5) At the start of each competition, the coordinating judge will state a single theme around which to base your entry. There are no restrictions based on the character theme itself; it is merely a suggested guideline, but following it in a creative and interesting way will give merit to your entry.
6) There are other restrictions, however. Material in the three core books is allowed. Any material found in the following books is also permitted: Expanded Psionics Handbook, Complete Adventurer, Complete Arcane, Complete Divine, Complete Warrior, Complete Mage, Complete Scoundrel, Complete Champion, Complete Psionic, Player's Handbook II, Tome of Battle, Tome of Magic, Races of Destiny, Races of Stone, Races of the Wild, Races of the Dragon, Dragon Magic, Magic Item Compendium and Spell Compendium. The use of Psionics, Item Creation rules, Epic Characters, and anything else in the Official SRD is permitted. No other rules sources -- including any variant Unearthed Arcana rules available on non-official SRD sites -- are permitted for use in this round of the contest.
7) Additionally, the character must be created with the wealth parameters discussed above, with average hit points per hit die (eg-2.5hp for d4, 3.5hp for d6, 4.5hp for d8, 5.5hp for d10, 6.5hp for d12; Max hit points at 1st level), using the 28 point-buy system, as discussed in the DMG pg169.
For those who do not have access to the DMG, the following sample arrays of scores have been set up for your convenience:
18, 14, 12, 10, 8, 8
15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10
8) One special rule regarding Crafting: When crafting a magic item from your character, you may pay the 50% gp cost and ignore the XP cost. However, your character must still meet all prerequisites in spells, minimum level requirements, etc., or account for the cost of hiring a spell caster to cast the spells for you.
9) Judges reserve the right to disqualify entries that do not follow the above rules, as they see fit.
- Lilly, by Black Kitten
- Rodney Westbrook, the Master Chef, by JasonOrlandoHawk (Disqualified for late edit)
- Pandoramus Whimwelk, by SaintKeeleon
- Ladurie Ayers, by Mercurius
- Kalitale Firebringer Aotearoa, Warlord of the Flame, by Kit the Odd
- Ivan Johanis of Feathertree, by guamae
- Jack Couran, by boj0 (disqualified for late entry)
Based on The Rules, is it safe to say we're limiting entries to 3.5? Can 4E concepts be entered?
A. Yes, Hero Craftsman will be staying 3.5. Look for a new contest, named Hero Artisan, to start soon. It will have the same structure as Hero Craftsman but use the 4e rule set.Character Creation Parameters
Effective Character Level (ECL): 12th
Ability Score Generation: 28 pt. buy (DMG p.169)
7) Additionally, the character must be created with the wealth parameters discussed above, with average hit points per hit die (eg-2.5hp for d4, 3.5hp for d6, 4.5hp for d8, 5.5hp for d10, 6.5hp for d12; Max hit points at 1st level), using the 36 point-buy system, as discussed in the DMG pg169.
Wait, is it 28, or 36 point-buy system? I ask because mechanics-wise, this means the difference between certain classes/feats/abilities a crafts(wo)men might want to take.
A. Sorry, that's a copy/paste error from the April contest when we built munchkin characters. This contest uses 28 points for character creation. The initial post has been corrected.
Oh wait, another Hero Craftsman is up! Time to rifle through my books for ideas...
A 4e version of the contest (named Hero Artisan) should be starting up soon.
Tome of Magic?! Wow... Shame that the idea that immediately forms in my head doesn't go anywhere near those subsystems, because I've had some desire to play with the rules in there a bit more for a while now...
I've entered two of these here contests, and both times the idea that immediately formed in my head got kicked out for a later (and, as it turned out, better) idea. :shrug:
Character Creation Parameters
Effective Character Level (ECL): 12th
Ability Score Generation: 28 pt. buy (DMG p.169)
7) Additionally, the character must be created with the wealth parameters discussed above, with average hit points per hit die (eg-2.5hp for d4, 3.5hp for d6, 4.5hp for d8, 5.5hp for d10, 6.5hp for d12; Max hit points at 1st level), using the 36 point-buy system, as discussed in the DMG pg169.
Wait, is it 28, or 36 point-buy system? I ask because mechanics-wise, this means the difference between certain classes/feats/abilities a crafts(wo)men might want to take.
But only Zherog can confirm or deny this. :wise nod:
28 PB has been standard for these contests. I believe the reference to 36-PB is a copy/paste artifact from It's The End Of The World As We Know It, the ECL 20 Apocalypse one.
But only Zherog can confirm or deny this. :wise nod:
Talisman is correct. I'll go fix it now.
I'm definitely interested in seeing what characters come from this contest. I think the theme is pretty wide open, we've allowed a lot of source material, and 12th level allows for some more interesting builds. I think those three elements could lead to some very fun characters.
FAQ has been updated with the questions we've had so far.
I'm definitely interested in seeing what characters come from this contest. I think the theme is pretty wide open, we've allowed a lot of source material, and 12th level allows for some more interesting builds. I think those three elements could lead to some very fun characters.
I'm working on it. I'm also determined not to be the first again this time and rush my entry in (this time I don't need to catch a plane :P). 1.5 pages of background thusfar
Sounds like I'd better start stockpiling printer paper for those backgrounds.
I could put it in size 4 for you?
Normal size will be fine.
If it's too small to read, I think that would affect clarity scores... ;)
Only if you can get into negatives for it :P
Correcting entry for PG13 rating :D :embarrass
Sounds like I'd better start stockpiling printer paper for those backgrounds.
Probably a good idea. I intend to enter.
(Though in my defense, I have not always been the longest entry in every competition. Mercurius has beaten me a couple of times. ;) )
A. The picture complies with forum rules
and
B. You don't expect to get extra marks for it.
We've had pictures for many entries in the past.
1) I see my final score
2) I receive comments from judges
3) Even if I score in the top three, I do not actually "place," such that another contestant actually receives the medal?
But that's just me.
If one is using an affiliation that expects members to tithe a percentage of their adventuring gold as way of dues, how would we account for that in our entry? Since large portions of our gold may have been accumulated at various points, I'm not sure how to calculate that out.
Specifically, I'm looking at the Paragnostic Assembly from Complete Champion, pg. 72.
As someone who has used Affiliation rules in the past, here's my comments (though I recommend you let an official judge actually reply).
When I used Affiliation in the past, I didn't use the "Multiple Use" criteria b/c those were "story" elements, and in a competition like this, your story can include literally anything you want along those lines. I only used the "One Time" criteria. (Note, the "length of membership" would probably be in the same boat here...)
I did some quick calculations, and as far as I can tell, if you stick to "One Time" criteria, you won't be any higher than Rank 3. According to the notes, you should donate 5% of your income through Rank 3, so if you use the 5% mark (and the 10gp/level requirement), you should be more than covered in that regard.
As for the "20% of treasure" on quests for the organization, I'd say that if you don't get a bonus to affiliation score for "Length of Membership," then you probably don't have to assume that any of your Wealth came from "organization quests."
That would be my call, but again, I recommend that you wait for judge verification.
Also -- remember that entries are due by the end of the day next Monday, December 1st! Get 'em in!
EDIT: Aww nuts, no archivist available. Oh well, I'll have to make do.
Background I
Hear me! Hear me! A tale! A magnificent tale! Hear me! Let me speak!
I thank you for your silence, so I can tell all the tale of Lily as all should hear it. The tale of the Queen of Hearts. How a simple farmer girl has become the hope of the hopeless, love of the loveless and lust to the heartless. Tarry not with your drinks or porridge, but join me here, and now. For the night is long, and so is my tale.
As any good story, Lily’s begins at her birth. Born to a simple man and woman, she was expected to be of simple beauty, simple intellect for a simple life. She was the last of many, as her mother birthed 5 boys and 2 girls before her. Protected by the strong hands and arms of her family, Lily grew slowly from a babe into a girl. Her mother told her about her white-golden hair, her green eyes and her pale skin and how it showed a divine connection. Her skin was so pale, yet the sun could not darken it and no flame burned it. Lily enjoyed walking the edges of the river. She would splash the water until she was soaked. Sometimes she would catch frogs with her bare hands and kiss them to see if a prince would show. There was no prince for her then.
From her youth, she blossomed into a beautiful young woman. She took pride as her chest and hips swelled in womanhood. With her maturity came an outworldish grace, not unlike that of the elves. Her pale skin gained a dark goldish hue and her hair slowly started to reflect light like a rainbow. But most of all, people knew her eyes, her kind green eyes. Many felt she could pierce the soul of any man, woman or child and know them better than any other. Some feared her and it was in those years that she was courted by a young man of good station. He was kind to her, asked no favour she would not give and promised to be true to her until his dying day. His name was Marthon, son of Count Valor. Lily gave him all she had: her love, her heart, her body. They lay with each other in shame, but no bastard came from their coupling and they felt safe. Lily’s heart bled as she saw him tie the knot with a more profitable partner.
Ashamed, she begged her family forgiveness. They shunned her and drove her away into the world. For long she wandered, ragged and underfed. She sold her body for breadcrumbs. But somewhere deep inside her, she never lost her spirit. Like this she was found one day, as a skinny woman of pleasure by Gem Silvertongue. He paid her fees, but did not bed her. Rather, he told her stories, because he wanted to tell them. He gave her his secrets to keep safe for him, money to live and songs to sing. And so she sang, her clear voice ringing through dark alleys. I am sure that she could have made a lot of coin in noble houses, should she have chosen so, but she did not. With Silvertongue she went and sang for the poor. She flooded him with love, but it was not enough. She could not warm a lover’s bed without the desire to warm the next. Her love was always true, never fading. She loved Gem more than any woman could, yet she still found the heart for other lovers and partners. As a fluid silver thread of hope, she sewed lives together. She brought back couples that broke, and calmed quarrelling neighbours. It were good years.
She had not yet turned 25 when it happened. Her heart was not shielded to survive what came. Gem was killed at the hands of vile goblins, and Lily picked up her staff in vengeance. Together with three companions (including Sagon and Ira), she travelled to the source of all this evil and slew the goblin horde. Her lust for vengeance went with the last blow of her staff. Sick of the blood they had shed, she cried and dismissed her companions. She wept for two solid days, and then found her companions had not abandoned her, but held vigil over her. As her last tear dried, Sir Sagon Bright lifted her in his arms and carried her off to safety. Cradled in his arms, he heard him pray for the love of Sune to fill her again. She heard Ira speak arcane words to converse with her in a language she had never heard, but understood like her mother tongue.
That night, she slept alone in a bed. The coldness of her grief overshadowed only by the loss of him she had loved most of all. She woke in the middle of the night to see a lush woman in her tent. Not a word passed between the two of them, nor has Lily ever truly expressed what had occurred. She emerged to the morning with a new zeal, shamelessly naked in front of her companions. Her body had been marked by the soft forms of red hairs imbedded in her skin, marking her as Lady Firehair’s own. It caused much consternation with her companions, but they kissed her mouth and pledged them to her cause, for she had found it her will to spread love, justice and hope as agents of faith without the boundaries of rules. They vowed to set no limits to their love or their heart’s desires.
For ten years they travelled the lands of Faerun, riding over fields, traversing mountains and braving the seas. They gave hope to beggars, love to young maidens and justice to those who deserved it. They made love their life and poured fully their heart to their task. They ventured into dungeons to put to sleep the tormented dead. In the forests they bargained peace between forest dwellers and humans alike. As such, people recognised their importance in their lives and tried to bestow on them heavy titles of nobility, ownership and duty. They never excepted any such gestures, as any title would bound them to rules they did not want.
The last year, they arrived in the frozen north, taking residence in Neverwinter. At 35, she has not progressed beyond her years of beauty. Her form had matured, like a good wine in a good cellar would. The songs she sings are still sung with the art of a master. Nothing remains of the scared, skinny girl that once had to sell herself. Her empty womb is something she has come to accept, though she still burns fiery with the desire to have her own child. True to her life, she does not allow regret rule it.
What is the happy end to this story, you ask? I cannot explain. Only when you feel her skin, hear her heart and smell her air that you will understand what is truly happy about this. It would shame men nor women to sleep with her and feel the utter and complete safety she emits. The truly good thing about this story is, that she made Faerun a better place in her own simple way.
Hear me still! Let me continue, since her story is not complete without His story. It will need to be told apart and I will name Him for I do not fear death. His name was Jason Miller, a simple man from a simple town. He expected a simple life with simple pleasure to enjoy for him in his own simple way. Jason was content with his life, perhaps even happy. Until one day he saw from afar the Lady Anda of Gador. Oh, how his heart heart longed to see into her beautiful eyes. He dreamt of her flesh, her smell and her touch. He was torn for many years with his desire for her burning inside him.
He would have killed himself for her, until he met Lily and her group. He spoke to them and exclaimed from afar: “Oh fair Queen of Hearts, hear my plea! I search a love that cannot be and I feel beyond hope! Help me! Oh, please!”
Lily could not let such a plea be unanswered. She heeded his call and heard his story. She knew how he burned and she longed to help his simple ways improve. In a way, I think, she saw it as a challenge to make a Lady of such a station regard such a man with kindness and love. It would be especially hard as she never, ever forces a mind and soul. Still she spoke on his behalf with the Lady, found the common grounds where the spark might fly from and sang the songs that stirred the heart. Yet it was in vain, the Lady ignored the simple Miller for he did not make her long for him.
Her failure hurt Lily, but she respected the Lady’s wishes to remain without a lover. She spoke to Jason at length to help him to let go and love again. He would not listen and became angry. He felt betrayed by her failure more than any would expect and turned Lily away from his house. Instead of settling back down into a normal life, Jason Miller burned his mill, killed his apprentices and left the town he had lived in all his life. Few know for sure how he travelled, but he travelled far and wide, until he joined the Church of Velsharoon in the frozen North. His burning love had turned to a burning hatred of all that lived and loved. He believed that until he had his love, no-one had a right to love. He regarded his love for Lady Anda as the only and true love in the world. For 5 years he studied the books and gained immeasurably power.
As the necromancer Pardoe he returned home as the sheep were lambing. He scorched the earth under his feet and sowed destruction in his old hometown. He sought to kill all that once mocked him. His power grew as he slew those who would bring him down. Then he captured Lady Anda and locked her in her castle. To her, he proclaimed his love and begged her to feel it too. The Lady’s heart froze at his angry words and she refused him even as the children of her brother were brought in and killed before her eyes. Unimaginable pains she suffered as he worked her soul, but all he tried merely diminished her. Not a tiny spark of love could burn in her heart for him. He raised vast armies of undead to show her his power, he courted her with flowers from the extreme ends of Faerun and the jewels of dragons. Yet no love came in return.
It at that time that Lily and her band returned to the small town to seek out what had happened to the villagers. They found it infested with undead, rotting in the core and controlled by a madman. They faced off the hordes and entered Pardoe’s castle. It was in the moment they brought him down that he slew Lady Anda, proclaiming: “None shall know love, for I cannot have hers!”.
This story affected Lily deeply, for she pitied Pardoe more than she despised him. She felt his fate was partly her failure. Despite this difficult defeat, Lily was strengthened by her companions and carried on with her life. Determined to put behind her what she had experienced. Yet she had not considered the depth and evil that had possessed Pardoe. Scarcely had they buried his remains, or he rose from the grave. In his death, Velsharoon had recognised Pardoe as a champion and granted him lichdom. He fled from civilised lands to the frozen lands of Vaasa. There he broods on his revenge, considers how he can banish from this world all love that had burned him so badly.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Duke Sarango Yarnallis
When Sarango was born, his name was already etched in his pillow with the purest of gold. His mother still panted from the labour when his first title came to his name, and had not yet risen from her bed when the first men at arms pledged their life and loyalty to him. No famine, no danger would lie in his future, for he was the promise of a family long declined. Born to the Duke and duchess of Yarnallis, he grew up in a sheltered environment. He grew up to learn the intrigues of the court, and the ways of the knight. Never did he grow bored, never had he to be without companions or servants.
He came to the court at a young age. In his life there, he would not even consider the Princes his peers. Sarango was above law and order, above royalty and everyone knew it. Despite the vigil of the King, men that clashed with Sarango disappeared, were they royalty, nobility or peasants. Few spoke against his word and the Princes vied for his attention. Yet for Sarango, this was not enough. This was but a façade for what he really wanted. For years he plotted against his sovereign, building a station of power unlike anyone had ever seen.
But his dreams did not come to pass. In the midst of all intrigue, there was one man that stood against his ambitions. This young man risked his life to stand against Sarango’s manipulation. This man was Sagon Bright, a knight of the lower nobility. Sarango considered him below his attention, but this mistake paid him dearly. Sagon had read Sarango’s intentions true and uncovered the plot. Sarango was shamed and driven from the court. For many years, Sarango sold his sword all around Fearun and became a swordsman of skill. One time he found his old enemy and captures Sir Bright from the clutches of his lovers. They faced him off and rescued Sagon from Sarango. Despite his evil, Lily tried to reason with him as they brought him to prison. Sarango felt humiliated at being berated by a simple peasant girl, for being pitied rather than feared. He spent many nights in prison praying for deliverance of his punishment. It was there that he learned of the god Bane and his knowledge that those who had the power, should simply grab it. He pledged himself to Bane’s service and broke out from prison.
A wanted criminal, he fled to the city of Waterdeep where he build a new life as one of Bane’s secret agents. From behind the scenes he works to bring to power those who would favour the dark god. Yet still today, he has a burning desire to kill Sagon and Lily for the role they played in his downfall.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Lotte Harsong:
Most people find it hard to judge the true age of a satyr. Lotte Harsong is young, even by satyr standards. She was born in the forest of Cormanthyr and grew up amongst the boisterous satyr youths as a silent, seemingly unhappy child. The hedonistic life she was taught appealed little to her. She loved to sing, but found the satyr songs not to her liking. The lust so much called for by her peers was unknown to her. Rather, she mused about beauty and love, friendship and the feeling of friends. Nearing adulthood, she reached far from her home and listened to the elves sing. The beautiful voices and wild dances made her uneasy, yet also joyful.
Following her heart, she ventured further and entered the lands where humans live. She found humans to be barbaric, savage people with no feeling for subtlety or art. Her heart sank how she travelled far, but found nothing to her liking. In those days, many people observed a shy, sad satyr on the roads. Some feared her, but as much as they feared her, she feared them.
It was one full moon when fate intervened. Resting in a small forest near the town of Umar. The howling of wolves had long since stopped scaring her, but that night the howls got a terrifying new meaning for her. She had been found by a pack of werewolves and ran for her life. For hours she ran, the terrible beasts on her heels. Exhausted she surrendered herself and sat her back against a tree. The beasts approached with dripping jaws and Lotte prayed that she could hear the beauty of the elven songs again. Then a song reached her ears she had not heard before. It called for all who heard it to have the courage to stand and fight. A moment later, a huge, luminescent bear smashed into the front ranks of the lycanthropes while a bright light lit the night sky. She had been saved by Lily, Sagon and Ira from certain death. The song of her rescue is one she still holds dear today and in Lily Lotte found a mentor and an icon of song.
I thank you for your silence, so I can tell all the tale of Lily as all should hear it. The tale of the Queen of Hearts. How a simple farmer girl has become the hope of the hopeless, love of the loveless and lust to the heartless. Tarry not with your drinks or porridge, but join me here, and now. For the night is long, and so is my tale.
As any good story, Lily’s begins at her birth. Born to a simple man and woman, she was expected to be of simple beauty, simple intellect for a simple life. She was the last of many, as her mother birthed 5 boys and 2 girls before her. Protected by the strong hands and arms of her family, Lily grew slowly from a babe into a girl. Her mother told her about her white-golden hair, her green eyes and her pale skin and how it showed a divine connection. Her skin was so pale, yet the sun could not darken it and no flame burned it. Lily enjoyed walking the edges of the river. She would splash the water until she was soaked. Sometimes she would catch frogs with her bare hands and kiss them to see if a prince would show. There was no prince for her then.
From her youth, she blossomed into a beautiful young woman. She took pride as her chest and hips swelled in womanhood. With her maturity came an outworldish grace, not unlike that of the elves. Her pale skin gained a dark goldish hue and her hair slowly started to reflect light like a rainbow. But most of all, people knew her eyes, her kind green eyes. Many felt she could pierce the soul of any man, woman or child and know them better than any other. Some feared her and it was in those years that she was courted by a young man of good station. He was kind to her, asked no favour she would not give and promised to be true to her until his dying day. His name was Marthon, son of Count Valor. Lily gave him all she had: her love, her heart, her body. They lay with each other in shame, but no bastard came from their coupling and they felt safe. Lily’s heart bled as she saw him tie the knot with a more profitable partner.
Ashamed, she begged her family forgiveness. They shunned her and drove her away into the world. For long she wandered, ragged and underfed. She sold her body for breadcrumbs. But somewhere deep inside her, she never lost her spirit. Like this she was found one day, as a skinny woman of pleasure by Gem Silvertongue. He paid her fees, but did not bed her. Rather, he told her stories, because he wanted to tell them. He gave her his secrets to keep safe for him, money to live and songs to sing. And so she sang, her clear voice ringing through dark alleys. I am sure that she could have made a lot of coin in noble houses, should she have chosen so, but she did not. With Silvertongue she went and sang for the poor. She flooded him with love, but it was not enough. She could not warm a lover’s bed without the desire to warm the next. Her love was always true, never fading. She loved Gem more than any woman could, yet she still found the heart for other lovers and partners. As a fluid silver thread of hope, she sewed lives together. She brought back couples that broke, and calmed quarrelling neighbours. It were good years.
She had not yet turned 25 when it happened. Her heart was not shielded to survive what came. Gem was killed at the hands of vile goblins, and Lily picked up her staff in vengeance. Together with three companions (including Sagon and Ira), she travelled to the source of all this evil and slew the goblin horde. Her lust for vengeance went with the last blow of her staff. Sick of the blood they had shed, she cried and dismissed her companions. She wept for two solid days, and then found her companions had not abandoned her, but held vigil over her. As her last tear dried, Sir Sagon Bright lifted her in his arms and carried her off to safety. Cradled in his arms, he heard him pray for the love of Sune to fill her again. She heard Ira speak arcane words to converse with her in a language she had never heard, but understood like her mother tongue.
That night, she slept alone in a bed. The coldness of her grief overshadowed only by the loss of him she had loved most of all. She woke in the middle of the night to see a lush woman in her tent. Not a word passed between the two of them, nor has Lily ever truly expressed what had occurred. She emerged to the morning with a new zeal, shamelessly naked in front of her companions. Her body had been marked by the soft forms of red hairs imbedded in her skin, marking her as Lady Firehair’s own. It caused much consternation with her companions, but they kissed her mouth and pledged them to her cause, for she had found it her will to spread love, justice and hope as agents of faith without the boundaries of rules. They vowed to set no limits to their love or their heart’s desires.
For ten years they travelled the lands of Faerun, riding over fields, traversing mountains and braving the seas. They gave hope to beggars, love to young maidens and justice to those who deserved it. They made love their life and poured fully their heart to their task. They ventured into dungeons to put to sleep the tormented dead. In the forests they bargained peace between forest dwellers and humans alike. As such, people recognised their importance in their lives and tried to bestow on them heavy titles of nobility, ownership and duty. They never excepted any such gestures, as any title would bound them to rules they did not want.
The last year, they arrived in the frozen north, taking residence in Neverwinter. At 35, she has not progressed beyond her years of beauty. Her form had matured, like a good wine in a good cellar would. The songs she sings are still sung with the art of a master. Nothing remains of the scared, skinny girl that once had to sell herself. Her empty womb is something she has come to accept, though she still burns fiery with the desire to have her own child. True to her life, she does not allow regret rule it.
What is the happy end to this story, you ask? I cannot explain. Only when you feel her skin, hear her heart and smell her air that you will understand what is truly happy about this. It would shame men nor women to sleep with her and feel the utter and complete safety she emits. The truly good thing about this story is, that she made Faerun a better place in her own simple way.
Hear me still! Let me continue, since her story is not complete without His story. It will need to be told apart and I will name Him for I do not fear death. His name was Jason Miller, a simple man from a simple town. He expected a simple life with simple pleasure to enjoy for him in his own simple way. Jason was content with his life, perhaps even happy. Until one day he saw from afar the Lady Anda of Gador. Oh, how his heart heart longed to see into her beautiful eyes. He dreamt of her flesh, her smell and her touch. He was torn for many years with his desire for her burning inside him.
He would have killed himself for her, until he met Lily and her group. He spoke to them and exclaimed from afar: “Oh fair Queen of Hearts, hear my plea! I search a love that cannot be and I feel beyond hope! Help me! Oh, please!”
Lily could not let such a plea be unanswered. She heeded his call and heard his story. She knew how he burned and she longed to help his simple ways improve. In a way, I think, she saw it as a challenge to make a Lady of such a station regard such a man with kindness and love. It would be especially hard as she never, ever forces a mind and soul. Still she spoke on his behalf with the Lady, found the common grounds where the spark might fly from and sang the songs that stirred the heart. Yet it was in vain, the Lady ignored the simple Miller for he did not make her long for him.
Her failure hurt Lily, but she respected the Lady’s wishes to remain without a lover. She spoke to Jason at length to help him to let go and love again. He would not listen and became angry. He felt betrayed by her failure more than any would expect and turned Lily away from his house. Instead of settling back down into a normal life, Jason Miller burned his mill, killed his apprentices and left the town he had lived in all his life. Few know for sure how he travelled, but he travelled far and wide, until he joined the Church of Velsharoon in the frozen North. His burning love had turned to a burning hatred of all that lived and loved. He believed that until he had his love, no-one had a right to love. He regarded his love for Lady Anda as the only and true love in the world. For 5 years he studied the books and gained immeasurably power.
As the necromancer Pardoe he returned home as the sheep were lambing. He scorched the earth under his feet and sowed destruction in his old hometown. He sought to kill all that once mocked him. His power grew as he slew those who would bring him down. Then he captured Lady Anda and locked her in her castle. To her, he proclaimed his love and begged her to feel it too. The Lady’s heart froze at his angry words and she refused him even as the children of her brother were brought in and killed before her eyes. Unimaginable pains she suffered as he worked her soul, but all he tried merely diminished her. Not a tiny spark of love could burn in her heart for him. He raised vast armies of undead to show her his power, he courted her with flowers from the extreme ends of Faerun and the jewels of dragons. Yet no love came in return.
It at that time that Lily and her band returned to the small town to seek out what had happened to the villagers. They found it infested with undead, rotting in the core and controlled by a madman. They faced off the hordes and entered Pardoe’s castle. It was in the moment they brought him down that he slew Lady Anda, proclaiming: “None shall know love, for I cannot have hers!”.
This story affected Lily deeply, for she pitied Pardoe more than she despised him. She felt his fate was partly her failure. Despite this difficult defeat, Lily was strengthened by her companions and carried on with her life. Determined to put behind her what she had experienced. Yet she had not considered the depth and evil that had possessed Pardoe. Scarcely had they buried his remains, or he rose from the grave. In his death, Velsharoon had recognised Pardoe as a champion and granted him lichdom. He fled from civilised lands to the frozen lands of Vaasa. There he broods on his revenge, considers how he can banish from this world all love that had burned him so badly.
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Duke Sarango Yarnallis
When Sarango was born, his name was already etched in his pillow with the purest of gold. His mother still panted from the labour when his first title came to his name, and had not yet risen from her bed when the first men at arms pledged their life and loyalty to him. No famine, no danger would lie in his future, for he was the promise of a family long declined. Born to the Duke and duchess of Yarnallis, he grew up in a sheltered environment. He grew up to learn the intrigues of the court, and the ways of the knight. Never did he grow bored, never had he to be without companions or servants.
He came to the court at a young age. In his life there, he would not even consider the Princes his peers. Sarango was above law and order, above royalty and everyone knew it. Despite the vigil of the King, men that clashed with Sarango disappeared, were they royalty, nobility or peasants. Few spoke against his word and the Princes vied for his attention. Yet for Sarango, this was not enough. This was but a façade for what he really wanted. For years he plotted against his sovereign, building a station of power unlike anyone had ever seen.
But his dreams did not come to pass. In the midst of all intrigue, there was one man that stood against his ambitions. This young man risked his life to stand against Sarango’s manipulation. This man was Sagon Bright, a knight of the lower nobility. Sarango considered him below his attention, but this mistake paid him dearly. Sagon had read Sarango’s intentions true and uncovered the plot. Sarango was shamed and driven from the court. For many years, Sarango sold his sword all around Fearun and became a swordsman of skill. One time he found his old enemy and captures Sir Bright from the clutches of his lovers. They faced him off and rescued Sagon from Sarango. Despite his evil, Lily tried to reason with him as they brought him to prison. Sarango felt humiliated at being berated by a simple peasant girl, for being pitied rather than feared. He spent many nights in prison praying for deliverance of his punishment. It was there that he learned of the god Bane and his knowledge that those who had the power, should simply grab it. He pledged himself to Bane’s service and broke out from prison.
A wanted criminal, he fled to the city of Waterdeep where he build a new life as one of Bane’s secret agents. From behind the scenes he works to bring to power those who would favour the dark god. Yet still today, he has a burning desire to kill Sagon and Lily for the role they played in his downfall.
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Lotte Harsong:
Most people find it hard to judge the true age of a satyr. Lotte Harsong is young, even by satyr standards. She was born in the forest of Cormanthyr and grew up amongst the boisterous satyr youths as a silent, seemingly unhappy child. The hedonistic life she was taught appealed little to her. She loved to sing, but found the satyr songs not to her liking. The lust so much called for by her peers was unknown to her. Rather, she mused about beauty and love, friendship and the feeling of friends. Nearing adulthood, she reached far from her home and listened to the elves sing. The beautiful voices and wild dances made her uneasy, yet also joyful.
Following her heart, she ventured further and entered the lands where humans live. She found humans to be barbaric, savage people with no feeling for subtlety or art. Her heart sank how she travelled far, but found nothing to her liking. In those days, many people observed a shy, sad satyr on the roads. Some feared her, but as much as they feared her, she feared them.
It was one full moon when fate intervened. Resting in a small forest near the town of Umar. The howling of wolves had long since stopped scaring her, but that night the howls got a terrifying new meaning for her. She had been found by a pack of werewolves and ran for her life. For hours she ran, the terrible beasts on her heels. Exhausted she surrendered herself and sat her back against a tree. The beasts approached with dripping jaws and Lotte prayed that she could hear the beauty of the elven songs again. Then a song reached her ears she had not heard before. It called for all who heard it to have the courage to stand and fight. A moment later, a huge, luminescent bear smashed into the front ranks of the lycanthropes while a bright light lit the night sky. She had been saved by Lily, Sagon and Ira from certain death. The song of her rescue is one she still holds dear today and in Lily Lotte found a mentor and an icon of song.
And i have 4 full days to come up with/write a background!
Polishing off my old 3.5 books took some doing. After the last several months DMing 4e it looks so weird to make a character with these rules.
"56 HP at 12 lvl? Really??"
"Oh yeah, i need to spend all my item money on Stat boosts ..."
"Don't forget to itemize AC score ..."
And I also almost forgot to add leadership ... but at least now i got the gritty part done
Rodney Westbrook, The Master Chef
Rodney Westbrook, The Master Chef
Male Half-Elf Ranger 5/Scout¹ 4/Rauthar² 3
Medium Humanoid (Elf), Age: 52, 5’8”, 166lbs, Green Eyes, Auburn Hair
Neutral Good, Deity: Ehlonna
Show
¹: CAdv 10-13
²: RoW 122-123
²: RoW 122-123
...jennibert, eat your heart out!
EDIT:
[Mock Horror]
Oh no! I completely forgot about the editing time limit on my entry. Why? Why did I have to go change three words in my entry? WHY?!?!?!?!
I can only hope, at this rate, that the judges, in their infinite mercy and wisdom, will at least deem my entry worthy of scoring and comment, even if I must accept the cruel, cruel fact that I am no longer in the running for a medal.
Please, judges! I implore you to score and comment upon my entry! I realize that I no longer deserve a medal, but will you perform this one act of mercy? Please! Please!
[/Mock Horror]
Just so everyone is clear:
No Editing After 30 Minutes (NEA30M for short)
Whoot! I spotted a Hero Craftsman before it had already closed!
Yay!
Polishing off my old 3.5 books took some doing. After the last several months DMing 4e it looks so weird to make a character with these rules.
You'll be happy to know that the first installment of Hero Artisan - the 4e version - has seated a judging panel and is currently in the brainstorming phase. It should start, hopefully, within the week! Hope to see you there, too!
And all I can say to that is...
...jennibert, eat your heart out!
No kidding - that's a long entry...
Oh no! I completely forgot about the editing time limit on my entry. Why? Why did I have to go change three words in my entry? WHY?!?!?!?!
Why do I have sneaking suspicion your late edit was done on purpose?
Anyway, the master list has been updated!
Yes, yes... they'll believe that one...
Pandoramus Whimwelk
Gatherer
A small figure stumbles across your line of vision, muttering something about the threads of fate, all the while digging in his sleeves. He manages, somehow, to avoid running into anything on his way out of view.
His shoddy, plain colored robes are in complete disarray, his sash nearly untied, his spell book hanging from it by nothing more than its ribbon bookmark. He is wearing a pair of sturdy boots that he clomps around in like a child in its father's shoes. What really draws attention, though, is his steel cap. It's the only part of him that's even remotely taken care of. It's been shined so that it's almost a mirror, and there's a small bent wire sticking up from it like the frazzled antennae of a beetle that's had a close brush with a shoe. Just before he passes out of sight, he stops, cocks his head, adjusts his twisted “antenna” and listens. He stands for a full thirty seconds before he resumes his haphazard wanderings.
Backstory
Childhood
Pandoramus had an easy childhood as the son of a famous sculptor and an equally famous vintner. He grew up as the youngest of three children, having both an older sister and brother. He was always assumed to be a normal child, if full of more whimsy than most elven children. His parents encouraged his imagination by giving him writing lessons and plenty of room to create stories. Having an author for a son was fine by them, and Pandoramus obliged by writing stories of fairy kingdoms and strange but wonderful monsters. When asked about his inspiration, he would always insist he was only writing what he saw. Deciding that it was a phase and nothing more, his parents gave him encouragement and all the tools he needed to create his in depth dramas concerning the wars and politics of the fey.
They only began to suspect something was wrong when Pandoramus began writing to the exclusion of all other activities. When asked about his newfound obsession, he replied that he was writing to keep the otherworld in. His parents decided that it was probably time for him to find another hobby, but the resistance they got was almost frightening, and they realized the awful truth. Their youngest child had developed a touch of madness.
They hid his books and pens and made him study something different. They hired a retired adventurer to teach him the ways of the wizard. To their immense relief, he took to wizardry with what his tutor, Rand Radiw, referred to as “frightening speed.” Pan studied and practiced with the same intensity with which he had written, but it never took over his life the way the writing had.
The end of the tutoring came when Rand found out that Pandoramus had been tearing pages from his spellbook to write his stories. Rand wouldn't have cared if he hadn't read a part of the story. The wizard Rand Radiw resigned his post as tutor the same day and suffered from nightmares and bouts of self induced insomnia until he died.
Pandoramus's glimpses into the otherworld begin to come with higher frequency. What he sees he no longer reveals through writing, because shortly before he leaves his home for the wide world he has a dream. In it, it is explained to Pandoramus that simple writing is not enough to stop the otherworld invasion, it reveals what it is he does need to do however.
He asks his parents for some money to begin his own adventure, and they supply him with a brand new spell component pouch. His mother gives him carefully sewn wizard's robes with pockets everywhere, and his father gives him the crossbow that he adventured with when he was younger. His brother gives him a quarterstaff, banded in brass, and his sister gifts him with twenty-five gold to spend how he sees fit. It comes with the admonition not to forget to spend some on food.
Happy and ready to go, the first place Pandoramus stops is the smithy. He carefully browses for nearly an hour before he makes his choice. A shiny steel cap. No, he doesn't want the chain shirt that goes with it, he just wants the cap. After a half an hour of intense negotiation, the exasperated shopkeeper finally sells the simple steel cap for fifteen gold. To the shopkeeper's surprise, the first thing Pandoramus does is pull one of the wires out of the band. He winds it around until it's sticking straight up off of the helmet. He tilts his head this way and that, smiles in satisfaction and goes on his way.
The Eye, The Tail and Thorivald
Pandoramus began to fall further and further into the pool of madness. He had every confidence in his helmet to keep the otherworld king from hearing his thoughts, while his small wire receptor made it possible for him to hear the King's plans along with other Astral detritus.
While he was raiding a goblin war camp with a group of adventurers, he was granted the most important vision of his life. He sighted portions of the king of the otherworld, a large green eye with two catlike pupils and a hairless, ratlike tail that would rival the size of the biggest frost worms, that split into three tails toward the end. It was commanding unseen minions to gather the Threads of Fate so that they could re-twine them and rain destruction on yet another world.
The King told his minions where the first Thread could be found and...
Pandoramus awoke to the faces of his worried companions and told them that it was time for him to go. He knew that it was going to be a tough road to travel alone, but he also knew that he alone was immune to the King's gaze, and so he set out.
He camped in a newly emptied cave, and attempted the ritual that Rand had shown him for summoning a familiar. He was blessed with a toad he called Thorivald. Being none too careful, Pandoramus clipped a few wires from the neck of his own helmet and fashioned a shield that he strapped to Thorivald's back, making the toad undetectable also.
Thus armed, he set out to find the first Thread of Fate.
Threads of Fate
Pandoramus located the first Thread of Fate easily. He battled his first minion of the King, a twisted version of the goblins he'd been fighting with the adventurers, and won an easy victory, using magic from various hiding spots. The first Thread of Fate he found was indeed a thread, soaked in magic and stained with blood. He tied it carefully to the inside of his helmet so it would be out of the King's sight.
He kept tuning in to the King's directives and battling minions to win Threads of Fate. The minions represented more common beasts and monstrous races, anything from goblins to griffons, though they all had green glowing eyes and naked tails, no matter the beings they more or less mirrored.
On his travels, he came across a spell that allowed him to store his Threads of Fate in a chest that he could then store on a whole other plane. He spent a lot of money having a set of those chests created, but the artist that made them took one look into Pandoramus's eyes and asked no questions.
So far he's gathered six Threads and dispatched six Otherworld denizens.
Bloody Surcoat Thread- For this he took care of a goblin that was just a little off the normal scale. It had dark brown and black hair and it's eyes were green and it had a long, naked, rat-like tail. It gave no more fight than a single goblin however.
Glass Bulb- Pandoramus can see his distorted reflection in this and it gives him a smile inside. He remembers well the Manticore he killed for the glass bulb. It was already in possession of the bulb when Pandoramus finally reached it. Fortunately, the Manticore's pride proved to be more vast than it's intelligence by far and Pandoramus won the day.
The Manticore too had been changed some, it's dark hair reflected little light, and it's tail was the same naked rat's tail of it's goblin predecessor.
Cracked Ceramic Bell-The King thought he got smart by sending plants to foil the undetectable presence. Pandoramus found the bell to be guarded by three Assassin Vines. They grew strange flowers that looked like eyes and their tendrils looked oddly segmented. When Pandoramus put the heat on however, they wilted like the others.
Broken Clay Tablet with Indecipherable Writing- Guarded by a cunning pair of Griffons, Pandoramus nearly lost an eye and now bears a thin scar down the right side of his head that he has a tendency to finger when he is planning his battle tactics.
The Griffons, like the other monsters, were dark in color with long, naked tails and glowing green eyes.
Iridescent Glass Bottle- This was guarded by a Wyvern of more cunning than most. Pandoramus was confronted by the Wyvern not long after fighting the goblins in the hills, so the battle took a little longer than he would have liked. Once he finally got the Wyvern dead, he had to go searching for the glass bottle, because the Wyvern couldn't locate it either. The Wyvern's had the same modifications as the other monsters, with the exception of it's tail, it was ratty and hairless, but it still ended in the barbs of it's normal brethren.
Unidentified Rib Bone-A brave Androsphinx guarded the rib bone, and it fought to the death. It seemed to have none of the legendary good nature told of by adventurers and authors far and wide. It's coat was dark and it's luminous green eyes seemed so large as to hide the rest of it's face. It fought an intelligent and difficult battle, but in the end, it too succumbed to the tactics and magical might of Pandoramus Whimwelk.
The monsters he faces are rewritten from the Threads of conquered worlds. The only mechanical change made is to their alignment, they all assume the Lawful Evil alignment of the King that remade them.
He keeps all the Threads in a chest on the Ethereal Plane. (It's done with the spell: Leomund's Secure Chest)
Now
Pandoramus is now in search of a small globe whose small glittering flakes are supposed to fall in a particular pattern that will reveal the path to yet another Thread. He is unaware of how many Threads there are, but he will journey as long as there are Threads to be found.
He has few clues about the location of the globe, and the King, suspecting now that he can be heard beyond his walls when he speaks, has been rather silent on the subject. The last minion he sent, his own Androsphinx, was summarily dispatched by the growing power and slippery cunning of the mad magician.
Pandoramus always has Arcane Eye activated, and usually a Greater Dispel set to fire as well. He is a nervous person that whispers constantly about dire prophecies and glorious battles with unheard-of monsters. He never stays long in one place. He's happy to make friends if those friends are willing to put up with his “delusions,” and if they don't mind his tendency to disappear in the night and never be heard from again.
When the King is quiet, Pan spends the free time researching spells and selling potions. He rarely uses the potions himself though. He will make a couple of Bear's Endurance and Fox's Cunning potions for himself when he prepares to confront one of the King's minions.
If he has the time and the need of money, he will travel with adventuring groups under the stipulation that he is able to go when he is called.
Tactics
Pandoramus has developed a roguish set of tactics to keep himself alive in battle when he's alone. He usually uses Invisibility and hides. He fires spells or his crossbow from hiding so that even when his close proximity can be determined, he usually has a chance to recast his spell and move on.
When he fights the King's minions, he uses the same tactics, but he uses Greater Invisibility and keeps moving and attacking from different hiding spots. So far these simple tactics have kept him alive.
How It All Happened
The forests that the Whimwelks called their home was a place where the veil between the Terran and the fey worlds was all but rubbed away, and the things that Pandoramus heard and wrote about were things that were actually happening in the Faerie Kingdoms. He heard the battle between the King of the Otherworld and the Faeries of the Falghwyn Kingdoms without really being able to see it happen. He heard the entire battle of the Faeries to keep their realms free, and he heard what happened when they lost. He also heard the King declare that he knew of the location of one of the Threads of Fate for one of the adjoining worlds and named it's location as a place that Pandoramus was familiar with.
It's the highly detailed descriptions of the battles and the monsters that wage it that gave Rand Radiw nightmares for the rest of his days.
Allies and Enemies
Pandoramus is a known figure in the forest and its surrounding area as a prime diviner and a willing hand if someone has need of a wizard. His rates are cheap which usually makes up for his flakiness and the fact that if he gets a vision of any sort, he's likely to leave, no matter where he is or what he's doing at present.
He has an adventuring group that he sometimes goes along with, if he's in the area, but he's doesn't have any friends that he'd do anything for. He's reserved and has the idea that if he makes friends that will give the King's minions something to use against him.
He's managed to make a few enemies though that are less ethereal and can see him in spite of his helmet.
Crocius of Rakwil Hills
Half-Orc Fighter Level 9
Use Basic NPC stats from DMG
Crocius is a half orc that was once part of the royal military. He took his knowledge of tactics and raised an army of goblins and hobgoblins that he tried to use to capture the small human settlement at the foot of the hills. Pandoramus singlehandedly stopped his advancing army on his way to the top of the Rakwil-Morg Mountains in search of the Iridescent Glass Bottle, one of the Threads of Fate.
Had Crocius' army not attacked the single wayfarer, he would have left them to their own devices, but a small crew of goblins decided to have some sport. He was more than a match for their low level tactics however, and they didn't have the equipment to withstand his magic attacks.
Crocius himself ran away, and Pandoramus was happy to let him go, along with any others that decided to flee. Crocius has decided to exact his revenge on Pandoramus, but he's having two problems, one: he is no match for Pan's magic and two: he can't find the wizard. The guy came back down the mountain, a few days later, muttering to someone that wasn't there and vanished from the face of the earth.
Rok Radiw
Human Rogue Level 13
Use Basic NPC stats from DMG
Rok is convinced that Pandoramus had something to do with the death of his twin brother and intends to bring Pandoramus down. However, he can't track him through regular means and divinations are either foiled altogether or led astray by magic.
Arladia Shilwaneth
Elven Sorceress Level 10
Use Basic Stats from DMG
Arladia and Pandoramus were betrothed from birth, and Pandoramus had every intention of honoring the pact, but he ended up having to slip away to rescue the clay tablet from the clutches of the King's favorite pets, a pair of Griffons.
Arladia was neither amused or placated by his strange stories and now intends to sabotage his foolish junk gathering expeditions. The only trouble is, she can't seem to figure out what it is that makes him wander. He let her try his helmet on once, but all it did for her was stink.
She's not necessarily his enemy, but she is taking steps to get him to stop.
Pandoramus had an easy childhood as the son of a famous sculptor and an equally famous vintner. He grew up as the youngest of three children, having both an older sister and brother. He was always assumed to be a normal child, if full of more whimsy than most elven children. His parents encouraged his imagination by giving him writing lessons and plenty of room to create stories. Having an author for a son was fine by them, and Pandoramus obliged by writing stories of fairy kingdoms and strange but wonderful monsters. When asked about his inspiration, he would always insist he was only writing what he saw. Deciding that it was a phase and nothing more, his parents gave him encouragement and all the tools he needed to create his in depth dramas concerning the wars and politics of the fey.
They only began to suspect something was wrong when Pandoramus began writing to the exclusion of all other activities. When asked about his newfound obsession, he replied that he was writing to keep the otherworld in. His parents decided that it was probably time for him to find another hobby, but the resistance they got was almost frightening, and they realized the awful truth. Their youngest child had developed a touch of madness.
They hid his books and pens and made him study something different. They hired a retired adventurer to teach him the ways of the wizard. To their immense relief, he took to wizardry with what his tutor, Rand Radiw, referred to as “frightening speed.” Pan studied and practiced with the same intensity with which he had written, but it never took over his life the way the writing had.
The end of the tutoring came when Rand found out that Pandoramus had been tearing pages from his spellbook to write his stories. Rand wouldn't have cared if he hadn't read a part of the story. The wizard Rand Radiw resigned his post as tutor the same day and suffered from nightmares and bouts of self induced insomnia until he died.
Pandoramus's glimpses into the otherworld begin to come with higher frequency. What he sees he no longer reveals through writing, because shortly before he leaves his home for the wide world he has a dream. In it, it is explained to Pandoramus that simple writing is not enough to stop the otherworld invasion, it reveals what it is he does need to do however.
He asks his parents for some money to begin his own adventure, and they supply him with a brand new spell component pouch. His mother gives him carefully sewn wizard's robes with pockets everywhere, and his father gives him the crossbow that he adventured with when he was younger. His brother gives him a quarterstaff, banded in brass, and his sister gifts him with twenty-five gold to spend how he sees fit. It comes with the admonition not to forget to spend some on food.
Happy and ready to go, the first place Pandoramus stops is the smithy. He carefully browses for nearly an hour before he makes his choice. A shiny steel cap. No, he doesn't want the chain shirt that goes with it, he just wants the cap. After a half an hour of intense negotiation, the exasperated shopkeeper finally sells the simple steel cap for fifteen gold. To the shopkeeper's surprise, the first thing Pandoramus does is pull one of the wires out of the band. He winds it around until it's sticking straight up off of the helmet. He tilts his head this way and that, smiles in satisfaction and goes on his way.
The Eye, The Tail and Thorivald
Pandoramus began to fall further and further into the pool of madness. He had every confidence in his helmet to keep the otherworld king from hearing his thoughts, while his small wire receptor made it possible for him to hear the King's plans along with other Astral detritus.
While he was raiding a goblin war camp with a group of adventurers, he was granted the most important vision of his life. He sighted portions of the king of the otherworld, a large green eye with two catlike pupils and a hairless, ratlike tail that would rival the size of the biggest frost worms, that split into three tails toward the end. It was commanding unseen minions to gather the Threads of Fate so that they could re-twine them and rain destruction on yet another world.
The King told his minions where the first Thread could be found and...
Pandoramus awoke to the faces of his worried companions and told them that it was time for him to go. He knew that it was going to be a tough road to travel alone, but he also knew that he alone was immune to the King's gaze, and so he set out.
He camped in a newly emptied cave, and attempted the ritual that Rand had shown him for summoning a familiar. He was blessed with a toad he called Thorivald. Being none too careful, Pandoramus clipped a few wires from the neck of his own helmet and fashioned a shield that he strapped to Thorivald's back, making the toad undetectable also.
Thus armed, he set out to find the first Thread of Fate.
Threads of Fate
Pandoramus located the first Thread of Fate easily. He battled his first minion of the King, a twisted version of the goblins he'd been fighting with the adventurers, and won an easy victory, using magic from various hiding spots. The first Thread of Fate he found was indeed a thread, soaked in magic and stained with blood. He tied it carefully to the inside of his helmet so it would be out of the King's sight.
He kept tuning in to the King's directives and battling minions to win Threads of Fate. The minions represented more common beasts and monstrous races, anything from goblins to griffons, though they all had green glowing eyes and naked tails, no matter the beings they more or less mirrored.
On his travels, he came across a spell that allowed him to store his Threads of Fate in a chest that he could then store on a whole other plane. He spent a lot of money having a set of those chests created, but the artist that made them took one look into Pandoramus's eyes and asked no questions.
So far he's gathered six Threads and dispatched six Otherworld denizens.
Bloody Surcoat Thread- For this he took care of a goblin that was just a little off the normal scale. It had dark brown and black hair and it's eyes were green and it had a long, naked, rat-like tail. It gave no more fight than a single goblin however.
Glass Bulb- Pandoramus can see his distorted reflection in this and it gives him a smile inside. He remembers well the Manticore he killed for the glass bulb. It was already in possession of the bulb when Pandoramus finally reached it. Fortunately, the Manticore's pride proved to be more vast than it's intelligence by far and Pandoramus won the day.
The Manticore too had been changed some, it's dark hair reflected little light, and it's tail was the same naked rat's tail of it's goblin predecessor.
Cracked Ceramic Bell-The King thought he got smart by sending plants to foil the undetectable presence. Pandoramus found the bell to be guarded by three Assassin Vines. They grew strange flowers that looked like eyes and their tendrils looked oddly segmented. When Pandoramus put the heat on however, they wilted like the others.
Broken Clay Tablet with Indecipherable Writing- Guarded by a cunning pair of Griffons, Pandoramus nearly lost an eye and now bears a thin scar down the right side of his head that he has a tendency to finger when he is planning his battle tactics.
The Griffons, like the other monsters, were dark in color with long, naked tails and glowing green eyes.
Iridescent Glass Bottle- This was guarded by a Wyvern of more cunning than most. Pandoramus was confronted by the Wyvern not long after fighting the goblins in the hills, so the battle took a little longer than he would have liked. Once he finally got the Wyvern dead, he had to go searching for the glass bottle, because the Wyvern couldn't locate it either. The Wyvern's had the same modifications as the other monsters, with the exception of it's tail, it was ratty and hairless, but it still ended in the barbs of it's normal brethren.
Unidentified Rib Bone-A brave Androsphinx guarded the rib bone, and it fought to the death. It seemed to have none of the legendary good nature told of by adventurers and authors far and wide. It's coat was dark and it's luminous green eyes seemed so large as to hide the rest of it's face. It fought an intelligent and difficult battle, but in the end, it too succumbed to the tactics and magical might of Pandoramus Whimwelk.
The monsters he faces are rewritten from the Threads of conquered worlds. The only mechanical change made is to their alignment, they all assume the Lawful Evil alignment of the King that remade them.
He keeps all the Threads in a chest on the Ethereal Plane. (It's done with the spell: Leomund's Secure Chest)
Now
Pandoramus is now in search of a small globe whose small glittering flakes are supposed to fall in a particular pattern that will reveal the path to yet another Thread. He is unaware of how many Threads there are, but he will journey as long as there are Threads to be found.
He has few clues about the location of the globe, and the King, suspecting now that he can be heard beyond his walls when he speaks, has been rather silent on the subject. The last minion he sent, his own Androsphinx, was summarily dispatched by the growing power and slippery cunning of the mad magician.
Pandoramus always has Arcane Eye activated, and usually a Greater Dispel set to fire as well. He is a nervous person that whispers constantly about dire prophecies and glorious battles with unheard-of monsters. He never stays long in one place. He's happy to make friends if those friends are willing to put up with his “delusions,” and if they don't mind his tendency to disappear in the night and never be heard from again.
When the King is quiet, Pan spends the free time researching spells and selling potions. He rarely uses the potions himself though. He will make a couple of Bear's Endurance and Fox's Cunning potions for himself when he prepares to confront one of the King's minions.
If he has the time and the need of money, he will travel with adventuring groups under the stipulation that he is able to go when he is called.
Tactics
Pandoramus has developed a roguish set of tactics to keep himself alive in battle when he's alone. He usually uses Invisibility and hides. He fires spells or his crossbow from hiding so that even when his close proximity can be determined, he usually has a chance to recast his spell and move on.
When he fights the King's minions, he uses the same tactics, but he uses Greater Invisibility and keeps moving and attacking from different hiding spots. So far these simple tactics have kept him alive.
How It All Happened
The forests that the Whimwelks called their home was a place where the veil between the Terran and the fey worlds was all but rubbed away, and the things that Pandoramus heard and wrote about were things that were actually happening in the Faerie Kingdoms. He heard the battle between the King of the Otherworld and the Faeries of the Falghwyn Kingdoms without really being able to see it happen. He heard the entire battle of the Faeries to keep their realms free, and he heard what happened when they lost. He also heard the King declare that he knew of the location of one of the Threads of Fate for one of the adjoining worlds and named it's location as a place that Pandoramus was familiar with.
It's the highly detailed descriptions of the battles and the monsters that wage it that gave Rand Radiw nightmares for the rest of his days.
Allies and Enemies
Pandoramus is a known figure in the forest and its surrounding area as a prime diviner and a willing hand if someone has need of a wizard. His rates are cheap which usually makes up for his flakiness and the fact that if he gets a vision of any sort, he's likely to leave, no matter where he is or what he's doing at present.
He has an adventuring group that he sometimes goes along with, if he's in the area, but he's doesn't have any friends that he'd do anything for. He's reserved and has the idea that if he makes friends that will give the King's minions something to use against him.
He's managed to make a few enemies though that are less ethereal and can see him in spite of his helmet.
Crocius of Rakwil Hills
Half-Orc Fighter Level 9
Use Basic NPC stats from DMG
Crocius is a half orc that was once part of the royal military. He took his knowledge of tactics and raised an army of goblins and hobgoblins that he tried to use to capture the small human settlement at the foot of the hills. Pandoramus singlehandedly stopped his advancing army on his way to the top of the Rakwil-Morg Mountains in search of the Iridescent Glass Bottle, one of the Threads of Fate.
Had Crocius' army not attacked the single wayfarer, he would have left them to their own devices, but a small crew of goblins decided to have some sport. He was more than a match for their low level tactics however, and they didn't have the equipment to withstand his magic attacks.
Crocius himself ran away, and Pandoramus was happy to let him go, along with any others that decided to flee. Crocius has decided to exact his revenge on Pandoramus, but he's having two problems, one: he is no match for Pan's magic and two: he can't find the wizard. The guy came back down the mountain, a few days later, muttering to someone that wasn't there and vanished from the face of the earth.
Rok Radiw
Human Rogue Level 13
Use Basic NPC stats from DMG
Rok is convinced that Pandoramus had something to do with the death of his twin brother and intends to bring Pandoramus down. However, he can't track him through regular means and divinations are either foiled altogether or led astray by magic.
Arladia Shilwaneth
Elven Sorceress Level 10
Use Basic Stats from DMG
Arladia and Pandoramus were betrothed from birth, and Pandoramus had every intention of honoring the pact, but he ended up having to slip away to rescue the clay tablet from the clutches of the King's favorite pets, a pair of Griffons.
Arladia was neither amused or placated by his strange stories and now intends to sabotage his foolish junk gathering expeditions. The only trouble is, she can't seem to figure out what it is that makes him wander. He let her try his helmet on once, but all it did for her was stink.
She's not necessarily his enemy, but she is taking steps to get him to stop.
However, since I somehow missed seeing the contest was up until 3 days ago I'm doing pretty well.
My entry's almost done. Gotta fill out tactics and check formatting. Should be up sometime this afternoon, as I have to go in to work on my day off for a bit...
Ladurie Ayers
Fluff
”Oh, my, but that is a bold formula,” the young woman said to no one in particular, as she perused the thick and ancient tome before her, faintly lit in the darkness by the motes of light hovering about her. “But, of course, you fail to account for Thorzak’s Theorem, which would prevent such a spell from functioning without a particularly intricate focus. But, then, I suppose that’s why your laboratory burned down, dear Bensegis...”
A noise from the room below her might have been completely ignored had it not been this particular evening, and especially this time. At this time of night, a disturbance of her alarm could only mean that the assassins had finally been dispatched. She looked down, through the transparent floor, her eyes glowing faintly blue as she peered into the magical spectrum and made out their invisible forms. Three assassins, their knives curved and marked with a sapphire jewel in each pommel, were creeping through her boudoir window towards “her” sleeping form. She maneuvered herself into a decent position from which to launch her counter attack, but she would still await the first step of the trap before she moved.
It did not take long. Moments after entering, each assassin positioned themselves beside her bait, swinging their blades in deliberate arcs into the prone figure in the bed. At once, the illusion dissipated, a magical backlash striking the first to deliver his deadly stab, drawing blood. Immediately, the assassins knew that they had fallen into a trap, but it was too late. Ladurie first poked her head through the hidden gateway to her rope trick pocket dimension and uttered the arcane syllables that would summon an ally and end a threat in one fell swoop. The unfortunate assassin whose blade had struck first gargled in pain and collapsed to the ground, as the water in his body was wrenched into the air and coalesced into a water elemental. Finding themselves now facing two opponents, they began to move towards the window.
Of course, by this point, the window was in a different location, disguised by a potent illusion. The first assassin made to leap through the open portal and crashed into a solid wall. The second stopped short, focused on his intended target, and cast a spell. She recognized it, knew that it meant to tear her very heart from her chest (which simply would not do), and nonchalantly focused her eyes on his as it failed utterly. The water elemental bore down upon him and struck at his flank. “I have a request, then,” she began, in quiet tones, as the elemental enveloped the attacker. “I should like to know who ordered this attack. Tell me which Grand Chaplain commanded three inept assassins to strike out against the greatest mind in all Agris, and I shall let you leave.”
The water elemental continued to hold to its quarry, his head barely outside its viscous body. “You think you’re so smart, traitor? None of us will tell you!”
“Oh, you need not answer,” she began as she motioned to the elemental to drown its grappled assailant and she looked towards the other. The third assassin pulled himself up beside the illusory window. Shifting subtly, his appearance transformed into that of a doppleganger. “I already know. You see, I am smarter than you...”
Born Ladurie Pwyrade, Ladurie was the second child to Chaplain Major Clion Pwyrade and his wife, Asaide. Her parents had high expectations for her and her brother, Rhoncian, expecting both to continue the family tradition of devotion and servitude to the church of Alran-Kor, the ruling church of Kerubina. It was, of course, a grave disappointment to both parents when Ladurie showed not only a severe lack of physical ability, but also no desire to devote herself to their god as Rhoncian had chosen to do. She was keenly intelligent, to be sure, but faithless, detached, and introverted. For a priest of a battle god, she simply would not do.
Her parents instead chose to devote whatever love and care they might have had to Rhoncian, who showed a great deal of promise. They arranged for him to have full access to skilled weapon masters, ecclesiastical scholars, and even frequent access to other chaplains’ instruction. Ladurie, meanwhile, lingered overlong in libraries, voraciously reading. Her mother, an able hand at politics, reasoned that perhaps Ladurie could be of some use to the family as a political marriage. True, she lacked a great deal of social grace, but she was not poor on the eyes, and she may very well be a good match for some low ranking priest or merchant. Therefore, Asaide arranged some tutoring for her daughter, though she avoided any particularly expensive teachers. Ladurie surpassed her tutors within months, reading books she found in their libraries that may have been untouched since they had been acquired. She even began to teach herself the craft most interesting to her, magic.
Having little desire to follow in the ways of the priest or oneiromancer, Ladurie took great relish in learning about all things arcane. By twelve, she had already mastered a handful of cantrips, finding great delight in illusions in particular. Of course, while mages were looked upon as useful by the Kerubinan government, they were not held in terribly high regard. Arcanists were convenient for dealing with the Maverians to the south, and occasionally for the hordes of orcs that would rampage against the Pike Wall to the north, but they were seldom trusted to government work, let alone positions of high esteem. No, Asaide and Clion reasoned, a political marriage was perhaps the best plan for Ladurie, though they were far more focused on Rhoncian’s imminent enrollment into that most prestigious of military academies, the Brande.
After Rhoncian entered the Brande, Clion was called for a tour of service at the Pike Wall, and Asaide was left alone with Ladurie. She busied herself with potential matches for her daughter, while Ladurie merely sequestered herself in libraries throughout Tollone. During one outing for potential suitors, a carriage accident crushed Asaide, killing her instantly. Not long thereafter, Clion died in an attack upon the Pike Wall, leaving Ladurie and Rhoncian orphans.
Rhoncian, already progressing well through his Chaplain training at the Brande, was well secured, but Ladurie simply had what was left of her family’s estate, and the care of the government from Clion’s years of service. Fortunately, her parents had failed to remove existing arrangements for their children to gain admittance to the Brande in the case of their deaths, something both had meant to do for Ladurie, but never gotten around to. However, Ladurie, at the age of 15, was still far too young to be admitted, and so would have become ward of the state until her brother graduated.
Ladurie simply would not stand for such a fate. Using her keen intellect, she gained a great deal of buried information on a young aristocrat by the name of Mestoned Ayers, and blackmailed him into adopting her. Shortly thereafter, they managed to arrange for Ladurie to take the entrance exams for the Brande, and she gained admission, the youngest entrant ever, at the age of 16, under the name Ladurie Ayers, just as Rhoncian graduated.
Ladurie excelled rapidly, finally provided with proper schooling. She still tutored herself late into the nights, but also ate up the instruction of her professors. She was assigned to a unit under the watchful eye of Garains Molfolens, providing advice and arcane support to the unit’s Korite priest-in-training, Kaiden Ettalodes. Ladurie played along with Kaiden’s role as leader, though she was much more of a strategist than he, and she eventually managed to insinuate herself as his primary advisor. She performed admirably in training exercises, and gained the attention of all her professors. She graduated with highest honors, suitably recognized for her brilliance.
The following year, she accompanied the small detachment from Kerubina into Maverol to lend assistance in dealing with Fenren Olgot, the halfling death knight who had begun to amass an army in the south. Many volunteered from the simple desire to battle the oppressor, but Ladurie came for one reason – knowledge. She had long studied the nation, but had never seen it, nor its war wizards, in action. She dearly wished to learn as much as she could about the kingdom of wizards, where even mediocre mages were celebrated more than she had ever been. And then she met him.
Edgar Cole, the archmage and head of Maverol’s Arcane Order, hero of the Erabaresi Conflict, and Viergan native. He was a potent spellcaster, with years of magical experience and knowledge of techniques and secrets long lost to the magical practitioners of Agris. Ladurie hated him. He was a rival, a foreigner with magical powers beyond her own, but was, quite simply, less than she was. She was already the brightest and most developed wizard of her age, brimming with power, and here was a man of celestial descent, who had received accolades for simply having traveled widely and studied deeply. Certainly, Ladurie knew, she could best him in magical might with only some more resources, more time to study. Why, with backing of a proper government that admired and praised arcanists, she could very well reach his level in a mere handful of years. It frustrated her to no end, having to follow orders of dim war priests when she was so much more brilliant.
After Fenren was ousted from Maverol, Ladurie returned to Kerubina. She despised Maverol’s mediocre wizards and the praise their government heaped upon them as much as her own countries disinterest in those of truly great arcane power. She maneuvered herself within the government, gaining a position of advisor within two years, and overseeing some small department herself not long thereafter. She read voraciously, applied her magic judiciously, and excelled rapidly. She plumbed the depths of any secret she could, discovering the true history of notable families such as the Moonshadows, the Ettalodes, and even one Iscent Fastles. She hoarded knowledge like a dragon hoards gold, cultivating favors and a network of information, plotting an ascendency that she knew would be impossible.
Finally, she was approached by a man long presumed dead, though she had been aware of his current activities for several months. Eliot Pentant, the deceiver who had so thoroughly corrupted students at the Brande while she had studied there, who had accidentally brought about the awakening of the Thousand Tears Bible which almost destroyed Bladegash, came to her with a plan. To say that Eliot intrigued her is to do it injustice. In all her years, here was the only person in the Brande she had not known the truth about. He had concealed his background and his ties to the church of the corrupter god so thoroughly that even she had never suspected. Just thinking about how many more secrets he might have made her practically salivate.
He presented her with flattery, as she had expected. But more-so, he presented her with the opportunity to be acknowledged for the power she possessed, as well as the opportunity to finally do what so many in Kerubina wished but would never accomplish – to bring low Maverol, and to show Edgar Cole for the second-rate wizard he truly was. Ladurie accepted his offer to help engineer a secession – with her knowledge and position in the government, they could help foment rebellion and create a new country, broken away from Kerubina, where she would hold a high office, be given time to plumb the depths of the ancient ruins throughout the landscape, and amass knowledge and power beyond all measure. Naturally she accepted. After all, she knew exactly what Eliot is, and certainly would not be swayed to his will. She is much smarter than he.
For over three years, she amassed additional information, found potential supporters, and cultivated feelings of discontent in the populous as best she could via her position in the government. The main brunt of the work was done by Eliot himself, as well as Lieutenant Chaplain Baerius Hewain, who has acted as the figure head of the movement. Finally, just over a year ago, the secession happened. Ladurie became an advisor to Dominia’s new governmental order, and was painted as a sign of its goal of supporting the people above the church of Alran-Kor. She lent her special skills as a caster to several battles with soldiers from Kerubina, as well as occasional incursions from bandits or dragons from Canin along the western border.
She helped provide information on all the delegates sent by Kerubina for peace talks and negotiations, and helped conceal Eliot’s presence from them. Her obvious ties to the secession have made her few friends in Kerubina, and she has been targeted for at least two assassination attempts. Nevertheless, she is now using her newfound freedom and power to explore any ateliers or other ruins discovered in Dominia’s territory, hoping to glean additional arcane secrets with which to use in accomplishing her next goal – the defeat of Edgar Cole.
Adventures
Everything that Ladurie does, she does to amass more knowledge and skill in the arcane arts. In so doing, she garners accolades and demonstrates her superiority. In many ways, praise for her skill is a vice of hers, though she would not deign to admit it. So long as an action promises opportunities for learning or experience, she will be interested. At the moment, she is interested in amassing a more intimate knowledge of the ancient ruins and secrets in the fledgling nation in which she lives, so as to be the first to discover some long-forgotten shred of power. In addition, she is researching the possibility of using energy from the Plane of Shadow to mimic Enchantment and Necromancy spells, as it does for Evocation and Conjuration effects.
Character
If knowledge is power, then Ladurie Ayers is perhaps the most powerful individual in all of A’Thea. She lives for knowledge – a single piece of information, no matter how trivial, is like finest wine to a connessoir. Ladurie has an almost reverential devotion to books, lineages, and secrets. She makes it a point to learn everything she can about everyone she meets. She is somewhat off-putting – she is calculated, calm, quiet, and aloof, far more at home surrounded by books than people. Still, she is driven to amass more knowledge and to demonstrate her superiority in all her endeavors.
At 25 years old, Ladurie’s skin is a rich, persian brown, her hair jet black. Her piercing eyes are a dark amber, and she wears immaculately crafted half-moon spectacles. Her hair is kept short and low-maintenance, and she uses her hat of disguise to maintain different clothing styles to mask her magical robes. She always has a book at her side, if not open in front of her, and she speaks with a measured and quiet voice.
Allies and Enemies
Eliot Pentant: With allies like Eliot, who needs enemies? Eliot Pentant serves Baumol, god of corruption, as a loyal holy warrior, whispering sweet promises in the ears of everyone he meets and encouraging them towards wicked ends. He is a manipulator par excellence, and successfully laid the seeds of dozens of conversions in his time at the Brande. Much of that work was undone when he was slain during the Thousand Tears Bible incident and his true nature revealed, but his resurrection has allowed him to move about relatively unfettered and has not slowed him in the least. Ladurie knows precisely what he is, and does not trust his honeyed words to be true. She frequently monitors him via [i]scrying[i] or enduring scrutiny to better anticipate when he may decide he no longer has a use for her.
Lieutenant Chaplain Baerius Hewain: Hewain was once a power-hungry chaplain of Alran-Kor, and had worked long and hard to gain status within the church and government of Kerubina. However, despite his good manner with the common man, he was frustrated by his inability to continue to rise within the ranks of the church. Eliot brought him in after Ladurie identified him as the most likely candidate to serve as figurehead, and Baerius was swayed to the founding of Dominia. Now, he presents himself as a devotee of Alran-Kor more concerned with the betterment of the people than with his church’s aggrandizement, something that endears him to the populous of Dominia. In truth, he no longer draws power from the Battle Brand and instead serves Baumol.
Edgar Cole: An aasimar wizard, Edgar is the head of Maverol’s Arcane Order, perhaps the most powerful organization in the country. He is also the only living archmage in all of Agris, and was one of those closest to Cecil Aonir during the Erabaresi Conflict. He is a hero to many, and aspiring wizards the world over wish to follow in his footsteps. He is judicious and quiet, but devoted to his people and the furthering of arcane knowledge. He concerns himself most commonly with the day to day maintenance of the Arcane Order, and spends little time adventuring anymore.
Chaplain Rhoncian Pwyrade: Ladurie’s brother had almost no communication with her during her time at the Brande, and she never saw him after her graduation. Though he bore her no particular ill-will, the nature of their parents’ attention to the two caused a great wedge between them that lead to a general estrangement. Rhoncian is a career chaplain, leading troops in battle wherever he is needed, but he does contemplate, from time to time, exactly what became of his reclusive sister.
Sophia Wilfreda: Ladurie had the “honor” of meeting the traveling diplomat when Sophia volunteered to assist in the envoy sent from Kerubina to avert secession. For her part, Ladurie sees Sophia as a naive fool who can barely comprehend the world, much less the magic she purportedly possesses. All that means, however, is that Ladurie views Sophia as another rival whom she must demonstrate her superiority before.
Setting Information
Name drops ahoy! Well, Ladurie exists in my homebrew (A’Thea), in case you were wondering. Kerubina is the northernmost country on the continent of Agris, which is a theocracy devoted to Alran-Kor, the LN god of honorable combat. They are frequently beset by invasions of orcs from the islands to the north, and have built the Pike Wall along their northern shore as the first line of defense. To the south lies the country of Maverol, a magocracy that devotes itself primarily to the god of magic and knowledge, Esye-Rha. Maverol has much more fertile and plentiful farmland than Kerubina, but Kerubina’s superior military is needed to deal with the invasions from the north, so they have never been able to take the land they need (and, they claim, rightfully should have) from Maverol. Kerubina houses the greatest military academy in all Agris, known as the Brande, located in Bladegash. Students typically enter no earlier than their 18th year, and the average graduate is 3rd level (Ladurie graduated at 5th level, due to her rigorous studies). The Brande has been the locus for two outbreaks of the ancient artifact known as the Thousand Tears Bible, a malicious force of chaos and transmutation that almost destroyed the city only a few years ago. It was subdued by Misery Mulligan and several of her classmates, during which time Eliot Pentant was killed, though his body was stolen away by fellow followers of Baumol. Oh, and A’Thea is a traditionally low-leveled world – there are higher level individuals around, but most top out at about 16th level and have become quite famous (there are a few who have hit level 20 or above, but they are immortals and have had centuries to do so). A’Thea suffered a major cataclysm almost two thousand years ago, and the once great Utopia that spread across the world was lost, its secrets buried within ateliers and ruins that dot the landscape and are still discovered today. Ladurie just loves to be the one discovering those.
”Oh, my, but that is a bold formula,” the young woman said to no one in particular, as she perused the thick and ancient tome before her, faintly lit in the darkness by the motes of light hovering about her. “But, of course, you fail to account for Thorzak’s Theorem, which would prevent such a spell from functioning without a particularly intricate focus. But, then, I suppose that’s why your laboratory burned down, dear Bensegis...”
A noise from the room below her might have been completely ignored had it not been this particular evening, and especially this time. At this time of night, a disturbance of her alarm could only mean that the assassins had finally been dispatched. She looked down, through the transparent floor, her eyes glowing faintly blue as she peered into the magical spectrum and made out their invisible forms. Three assassins, their knives curved and marked with a sapphire jewel in each pommel, were creeping through her boudoir window towards “her” sleeping form. She maneuvered herself into a decent position from which to launch her counter attack, but she would still await the first step of the trap before she moved.
It did not take long. Moments after entering, each assassin positioned themselves beside her bait, swinging their blades in deliberate arcs into the prone figure in the bed. At once, the illusion dissipated, a magical backlash striking the first to deliver his deadly stab, drawing blood. Immediately, the assassins knew that they had fallen into a trap, but it was too late. Ladurie first poked her head through the hidden gateway to her rope trick pocket dimension and uttered the arcane syllables that would summon an ally and end a threat in one fell swoop. The unfortunate assassin whose blade had struck first gargled in pain and collapsed to the ground, as the water in his body was wrenched into the air and coalesced into a water elemental. Finding themselves now facing two opponents, they began to move towards the window.
Of course, by this point, the window was in a different location, disguised by a potent illusion. The first assassin made to leap through the open portal and crashed into a solid wall. The second stopped short, focused on his intended target, and cast a spell. She recognized it, knew that it meant to tear her very heart from her chest (which simply would not do), and nonchalantly focused her eyes on his as it failed utterly. The water elemental bore down upon him and struck at his flank. “I have a request, then,” she began, in quiet tones, as the elemental enveloped the attacker. “I should like to know who ordered this attack. Tell me which Grand Chaplain commanded three inept assassins to strike out against the greatest mind in all Agris, and I shall let you leave.”
The water elemental continued to hold to its quarry, his head barely outside its viscous body. “You think you’re so smart, traitor? None of us will tell you!”
“Oh, you need not answer,” she began as she motioned to the elemental to drown its grappled assailant and she looked towards the other. The third assassin pulled himself up beside the illusory window. Shifting subtly, his appearance transformed into that of a doppleganger. “I already know. You see, I am smarter than you...”
Born Ladurie Pwyrade, Ladurie was the second child to Chaplain Major Clion Pwyrade and his wife, Asaide. Her parents had high expectations for her and her brother, Rhoncian, expecting both to continue the family tradition of devotion and servitude to the church of Alran-Kor, the ruling church of Kerubina. It was, of course, a grave disappointment to both parents when Ladurie showed not only a severe lack of physical ability, but also no desire to devote herself to their god as Rhoncian had chosen to do. She was keenly intelligent, to be sure, but faithless, detached, and introverted. For a priest of a battle god, she simply would not do.
Her parents instead chose to devote whatever love and care they might have had to Rhoncian, who showed a great deal of promise. They arranged for him to have full access to skilled weapon masters, ecclesiastical scholars, and even frequent access to other chaplains’ instruction. Ladurie, meanwhile, lingered overlong in libraries, voraciously reading. Her mother, an able hand at politics, reasoned that perhaps Ladurie could be of some use to the family as a political marriage. True, she lacked a great deal of social grace, but she was not poor on the eyes, and she may very well be a good match for some low ranking priest or merchant. Therefore, Asaide arranged some tutoring for her daughter, though she avoided any particularly expensive teachers. Ladurie surpassed her tutors within months, reading books she found in their libraries that may have been untouched since they had been acquired. She even began to teach herself the craft most interesting to her, magic.
Having little desire to follow in the ways of the priest or oneiromancer, Ladurie took great relish in learning about all things arcane. By twelve, she had already mastered a handful of cantrips, finding great delight in illusions in particular. Of course, while mages were looked upon as useful by the Kerubinan government, they were not held in terribly high regard. Arcanists were convenient for dealing with the Maverians to the south, and occasionally for the hordes of orcs that would rampage against the Pike Wall to the north, but they were seldom trusted to government work, let alone positions of high esteem. No, Asaide and Clion reasoned, a political marriage was perhaps the best plan for Ladurie, though they were far more focused on Rhoncian’s imminent enrollment into that most prestigious of military academies, the Brande.
After Rhoncian entered the Brande, Clion was called for a tour of service at the Pike Wall, and Asaide was left alone with Ladurie. She busied herself with potential matches for her daughter, while Ladurie merely sequestered herself in libraries throughout Tollone. During one outing for potential suitors, a carriage accident crushed Asaide, killing her instantly. Not long thereafter, Clion died in an attack upon the Pike Wall, leaving Ladurie and Rhoncian orphans.
Rhoncian, already progressing well through his Chaplain training at the Brande, was well secured, but Ladurie simply had what was left of her family’s estate, and the care of the government from Clion’s years of service. Fortunately, her parents had failed to remove existing arrangements for their children to gain admittance to the Brande in the case of their deaths, something both had meant to do for Ladurie, but never gotten around to. However, Ladurie, at the age of 15, was still far too young to be admitted, and so would have become ward of the state until her brother graduated.
Ladurie simply would not stand for such a fate. Using her keen intellect, she gained a great deal of buried information on a young aristocrat by the name of Mestoned Ayers, and blackmailed him into adopting her. Shortly thereafter, they managed to arrange for Ladurie to take the entrance exams for the Brande, and she gained admission, the youngest entrant ever, at the age of 16, under the name Ladurie Ayers, just as Rhoncian graduated.
Ladurie excelled rapidly, finally provided with proper schooling. She still tutored herself late into the nights, but also ate up the instruction of her professors. She was assigned to a unit under the watchful eye of Garains Molfolens, providing advice and arcane support to the unit’s Korite priest-in-training, Kaiden Ettalodes. Ladurie played along with Kaiden’s role as leader, though she was much more of a strategist than he, and she eventually managed to insinuate herself as his primary advisor. She performed admirably in training exercises, and gained the attention of all her professors. She graduated with highest honors, suitably recognized for her brilliance.
The following year, she accompanied the small detachment from Kerubina into Maverol to lend assistance in dealing with Fenren Olgot, the halfling death knight who had begun to amass an army in the south. Many volunteered from the simple desire to battle the oppressor, but Ladurie came for one reason – knowledge. She had long studied the nation, but had never seen it, nor its war wizards, in action. She dearly wished to learn as much as she could about the kingdom of wizards, where even mediocre mages were celebrated more than she had ever been. And then she met him.
Edgar Cole, the archmage and head of Maverol’s Arcane Order, hero of the Erabaresi Conflict, and Viergan native. He was a potent spellcaster, with years of magical experience and knowledge of techniques and secrets long lost to the magical practitioners of Agris. Ladurie hated him. He was a rival, a foreigner with magical powers beyond her own, but was, quite simply, less than she was. She was already the brightest and most developed wizard of her age, brimming with power, and here was a man of celestial descent, who had received accolades for simply having traveled widely and studied deeply. Certainly, Ladurie knew, she could best him in magical might with only some more resources, more time to study. Why, with backing of a proper government that admired and praised arcanists, she could very well reach his level in a mere handful of years. It frustrated her to no end, having to follow orders of dim war priests when she was so much more brilliant.
After Fenren was ousted from Maverol, Ladurie returned to Kerubina. She despised Maverol’s mediocre wizards and the praise their government heaped upon them as much as her own countries disinterest in those of truly great arcane power. She maneuvered herself within the government, gaining a position of advisor within two years, and overseeing some small department herself not long thereafter. She read voraciously, applied her magic judiciously, and excelled rapidly. She plumbed the depths of any secret she could, discovering the true history of notable families such as the Moonshadows, the Ettalodes, and even one Iscent Fastles. She hoarded knowledge like a dragon hoards gold, cultivating favors and a network of information, plotting an ascendency that she knew would be impossible.
Finally, she was approached by a man long presumed dead, though she had been aware of his current activities for several months. Eliot Pentant, the deceiver who had so thoroughly corrupted students at the Brande while she had studied there, who had accidentally brought about the awakening of the Thousand Tears Bible which almost destroyed Bladegash, came to her with a plan. To say that Eliot intrigued her is to do it injustice. In all her years, here was the only person in the Brande she had not known the truth about. He had concealed his background and his ties to the church of the corrupter god so thoroughly that even she had never suspected. Just thinking about how many more secrets he might have made her practically salivate.
He presented her with flattery, as she had expected. But more-so, he presented her with the opportunity to be acknowledged for the power she possessed, as well as the opportunity to finally do what so many in Kerubina wished but would never accomplish – to bring low Maverol, and to show Edgar Cole for the second-rate wizard he truly was. Ladurie accepted his offer to help engineer a secession – with her knowledge and position in the government, they could help foment rebellion and create a new country, broken away from Kerubina, where she would hold a high office, be given time to plumb the depths of the ancient ruins throughout the landscape, and amass knowledge and power beyond all measure. Naturally she accepted. After all, she knew exactly what Eliot is, and certainly would not be swayed to his will. She is much smarter than he.
For over three years, she amassed additional information, found potential supporters, and cultivated feelings of discontent in the populous as best she could via her position in the government. The main brunt of the work was done by Eliot himself, as well as Lieutenant Chaplain Baerius Hewain, who has acted as the figure head of the movement. Finally, just over a year ago, the secession happened. Ladurie became an advisor to Dominia’s new governmental order, and was painted as a sign of its goal of supporting the people above the church of Alran-Kor. She lent her special skills as a caster to several battles with soldiers from Kerubina, as well as occasional incursions from bandits or dragons from Canin along the western border.
She helped provide information on all the delegates sent by Kerubina for peace talks and negotiations, and helped conceal Eliot’s presence from them. Her obvious ties to the secession have made her few friends in Kerubina, and she has been targeted for at least two assassination attempts. Nevertheless, she is now using her newfound freedom and power to explore any ateliers or other ruins discovered in Dominia’s territory, hoping to glean additional arcane secrets with which to use in accomplishing her next goal – the defeat of Edgar Cole.
Adventures
Everything that Ladurie does, she does to amass more knowledge and skill in the arcane arts. In so doing, she garners accolades and demonstrates her superiority. In many ways, praise for her skill is a vice of hers, though she would not deign to admit it. So long as an action promises opportunities for learning or experience, she will be interested. At the moment, she is interested in amassing a more intimate knowledge of the ancient ruins and secrets in the fledgling nation in which she lives, so as to be the first to discover some long-forgotten shred of power. In addition, she is researching the possibility of using energy from the Plane of Shadow to mimic Enchantment and Necromancy spells, as it does for Evocation and Conjuration effects.
Character
If knowledge is power, then Ladurie Ayers is perhaps the most powerful individual in all of A’Thea. She lives for knowledge – a single piece of information, no matter how trivial, is like finest wine to a connessoir. Ladurie has an almost reverential devotion to books, lineages, and secrets. She makes it a point to learn everything she can about everyone she meets. She is somewhat off-putting – she is calculated, calm, quiet, and aloof, far more at home surrounded by books than people. Still, she is driven to amass more knowledge and to demonstrate her superiority in all her endeavors.
At 25 years old, Ladurie’s skin is a rich, persian brown, her hair jet black. Her piercing eyes are a dark amber, and she wears immaculately crafted half-moon spectacles. Her hair is kept short and low-maintenance, and she uses her hat of disguise to maintain different clothing styles to mask her magical robes. She always has a book at her side, if not open in front of her, and she speaks with a measured and quiet voice.
Allies and Enemies
Eliot Pentant: With allies like Eliot, who needs enemies? Eliot Pentant serves Baumol, god of corruption, as a loyal holy warrior, whispering sweet promises in the ears of everyone he meets and encouraging them towards wicked ends. He is a manipulator par excellence, and successfully laid the seeds of dozens of conversions in his time at the Brande. Much of that work was undone when he was slain during the Thousand Tears Bible incident and his true nature revealed, but his resurrection has allowed him to move about relatively unfettered and has not slowed him in the least. Ladurie knows precisely what he is, and does not trust his honeyed words to be true. She frequently monitors him via [i]scrying[i] or enduring scrutiny to better anticipate when he may decide he no longer has a use for her.
Lieutenant Chaplain Baerius Hewain: Hewain was once a power-hungry chaplain of Alran-Kor, and had worked long and hard to gain status within the church and government of Kerubina. However, despite his good manner with the common man, he was frustrated by his inability to continue to rise within the ranks of the church. Eliot brought him in after Ladurie identified him as the most likely candidate to serve as figurehead, and Baerius was swayed to the founding of Dominia. Now, he presents himself as a devotee of Alran-Kor more concerned with the betterment of the people than with his church’s aggrandizement, something that endears him to the populous of Dominia. In truth, he no longer draws power from the Battle Brand and instead serves Baumol.
Edgar Cole: An aasimar wizard, Edgar is the head of Maverol’s Arcane Order, perhaps the most powerful organization in the country. He is also the only living archmage in all of Agris, and was one of those closest to Cecil Aonir during the Erabaresi Conflict. He is a hero to many, and aspiring wizards the world over wish to follow in his footsteps. He is judicious and quiet, but devoted to his people and the furthering of arcane knowledge. He concerns himself most commonly with the day to day maintenance of the Arcane Order, and spends little time adventuring anymore.
Chaplain Rhoncian Pwyrade: Ladurie’s brother had almost no communication with her during her time at the Brande, and she never saw him after her graduation. Though he bore her no particular ill-will, the nature of their parents’ attention to the two caused a great wedge between them that lead to a general estrangement. Rhoncian is a career chaplain, leading troops in battle wherever he is needed, but he does contemplate, from time to time, exactly what became of his reclusive sister.
Sophia Wilfreda: Ladurie had the “honor” of meeting the traveling diplomat when Sophia volunteered to assist in the envoy sent from Kerubina to avert secession. For her part, Ladurie sees Sophia as a naive fool who can barely comprehend the world, much less the magic she purportedly possesses. All that means, however, is that Ladurie views Sophia as another rival whom she must demonstrate her superiority before.
Setting Information
Name drops ahoy! Well, Ladurie exists in my homebrew (A’Thea), in case you were wondering. Kerubina is the northernmost country on the continent of Agris, which is a theocracy devoted to Alran-Kor, the LN god of honorable combat. They are frequently beset by invasions of orcs from the islands to the north, and have built the Pike Wall along their northern shore as the first line of defense. To the south lies the country of Maverol, a magocracy that devotes itself primarily to the god of magic and knowledge, Esye-Rha. Maverol has much more fertile and plentiful farmland than Kerubina, but Kerubina’s superior military is needed to deal with the invasions from the north, so they have never been able to take the land they need (and, they claim, rightfully should have) from Maverol. Kerubina houses the greatest military academy in all Agris, known as the Brande, located in Bladegash. Students typically enter no earlier than their 18th year, and the average graduate is 3rd level (Ladurie graduated at 5th level, due to her rigorous studies). The Brande has been the locus for two outbreaks of the ancient artifact known as the Thousand Tears Bible, a malicious force of chaos and transmutation that almost destroyed the city only a few years ago. It was subdued by Misery Mulligan and several of her classmates, during which time Eliot Pentant was killed, though his body was stolen away by fellow followers of Baumol. Oh, and A’Thea is a traditionally low-leveled world – there are higher level individuals around, but most top out at about 16th level and have become quite famous (there are a few who have hit level 20 or above, but they are immortals and have had centuries to do so). A’Thea suffered a major cataclysm almost two thousand years ago, and the once great Utopia that spread across the world was lost, its secrets buried within ateliers and ruins that dot the landscape and are still discovered today. Ladurie just loves to be the one discovering those.
Background
Long ago, so long that history has become legend, the gold dragon Archyopterix made his lair high in the Stonewall Mountains. He adopted a local tribe of goliaths, and eventually spent much of his time among them in their own form. His line was mingled with theirs and even today a child will occasionally be born with some indication of the ancient draconic bloodline. These descendants are honored by the tribe, and great things are expected of them. Known as the Ancient Flame by the goliaths, Archyopterix still watched over them, although much more remotely than earlier. Until 3 years ago – when the Ancient Flame disappeared, and the goliaths were taken prisoner by an unknown power. The only member of the tribe not taken was a young dawncaller named Kalitale Firebringer Aotearoa, who was away trading with the nearby dwarves at the time.
Kalitale earned his common name “Firebringer” early in life when he learned to use his inspirational abilities to add fire to his people’s weapons. It is supposed that this ability is another aspect of his draconic heritage. Training as a dawncaller for the tribe he learned both the bardic aspects of the role as lore keeper and the martial skills of the role as protector. His abilities and talents led him to the battle field early to assist the tribe during an invasion of goblinoids. Though young, he acquitted himself well and earned much praise for his ability to assist his allies as well as for his own strong arm. The long association with the dragon had helped the tribe develop more organized fighting skills and training most other goliath tribes.
Because of his valorous actions in this fight he was honored by being presented to the Ancient Flame. His distant progenitor praised him and presented him with a gift. He was given a sword, but the rough and unfinished look made Firebringer concerned at first. However, as his grasped the sword he it seemed heavier than expected and then seemed to grow to fill his size and strength. At his jump of surprise, the Ancient Flame gave a kindly laugh, “Yes, I think this sword will suit you well. Its name is Unfettered and I give you a charge to learn about your sword. You will find much to inspire, and empower, you in your duties. Gather the good people around you and help them to win their desires. That is the role of a leader.”
For some time Firebringer’s life was relatively happy and content. He continued to learn and grow. During this time he was able to learn something about his sword – that it was an ancient weapon forged by a dwarf and a goliath held captive by giants, and that by recreating that feat he might unlock some power within the sword. During a visit to the nearby dwarf city, Firebringer used one of the forges there to fashion a large, heavy mace. Working without rest or food he finished the task and named the mace “Devotion”. After this he found that Unfettered did indeed hold some latent magic, and also allowed him to use some of his martial abilities more. However, he also found that in empowering Unfettered that he lost some small power. This feat endeared him to the dwarves and led to more visits for Firebringer during the trading missions. His circle of friends continued to grow.
Unfettered did indeed serve him well in the occasional fight against the goblinoids as well as the trolls, ettins, and other creatures of the mountains. Firebringer and his tribe even dealt with a young adult white dragon that attempted to move into the area. By that time Firebringer had recovered two of the pieces of a group of items known as the Raiment of the Four. Tied to the elements, the ability the two items gave combined to resist cold was of great help during the attack on the white dragon. So was his ability to infuse the attacks of his allies with fire. It was at this time that some of the tribe began to call him the Warlord of the Flame. His efforts and abilities, as well as his friendliness, gained him and the tribe many friends and allies. He sometimes wondered why the Ancient Flame came to their aid so little, but as they were able to deal with the problems without his aid he was content.
It was shortly after that battle that the Ancient Flame disappeared. Attempts to contact him in the normal ways were fruitless and his audience chamber stayed empty. The tribe did what they could to find him, but to no avail. Assuming that he was off on his own business they didn’t worry about him. After all, what could harm so old and powerful a dragon. Firebringer assumes that they now know – as six months later the entire tribe disappeared while he was away trading with the dwarves.
The entire mountain range was soon over run by a veritable army of giants, yetis, and other creatures. The many bands of invaders were poorly organized, but all answered to a being the called “the Dark Lord”. Firebringer returned to the dwarven city just in time to help fight off an attack of giants. His pleas for help in driving out the invaders fell on mostly deaf ears – the dwarves had their own problems. He was able to convince a few to help his cause however, including a cleric of Moradin named Garath Stonebeard. Thinking that the Ancient Flame was the best chance for retaking the land Firebringer and Garath set off to find out where the gold dragon had gone.
Along the way the two companions sought new allies for the fight to retake the mountains. They made friends with the gnomes, with other dwarves and goliaths, even with some of the less civilized denizens of the mountains, such as the feral garguns. Many of these groups pledged their help when the time came to fight the Dark Lord. Firebringer’s past exploits gave him a reputation within the mountains that made it easier to find good and stout-hearted people. His hunt to find his people and the Ancient Flame made little progress, but his efforts to gather a coalition to fight made great advances. Many people he talked to became so devoted that they left their own cities and tribes and devoted themselves to Firebringer and his mission. These followers grow constantly, and provide the beginnings of a cadre for the eventual Army of the Flame.
In his search Firebringer eventually found the Ancient Flame’s treasure chamber. It had already been found by a group of giants. While Firebringer and his companions brought most of the giants down together, a trap left Firebringer facing the last stone giant alone. He was able to defeat the giant. As the foe fell, an apparition of the Ancient Flame appeared and spoke to Firebringer. It said that the Ancient Flame had found out decades ago about a terrible foe that was coming – and that if his own power was lost from the mountains that the foe could not be defeated. Knowing that even he was vulnerable he found a way to send some of his power and even soul into others. The apparition told Firebringer that this was why his interaction among the mountains has slowed, because he was sending more of his power into others. Eventually, he divided himself so far that all that was left was those he empowered and a few spiritual remnants such as this. He declared Firebringer to be one of his Flames and told him that he would continue to grow in power, that just as dragons combined magical and physical might so would Firebringer. The last two messages were that his people were safe, but that only the defeat of the Dark Lord could release them, and a reiteration of an earlier command, “Gather the good people around you and help them to win. That is the role of my warlord.”
Since then Firebringer has doubled his efforts to bring the good people of the mountain together against the Dark Lord. He also seeks for other Flames – those empowered by the soul of the Ancient Flame. His diplomatic actions, and his military ones, are growing the coalition all the time.
Long ago, so long that history has become legend, the gold dragon Archyopterix made his lair high in the Stonewall Mountains. He adopted a local tribe of goliaths, and eventually spent much of his time among them in their own form. His line was mingled with theirs and even today a child will occasionally be born with some indication of the ancient draconic bloodline. These descendants are honored by the tribe, and great things are expected of them. Known as the Ancient Flame by the goliaths, Archyopterix still watched over them, although much more remotely than earlier. Until 3 years ago – when the Ancient Flame disappeared, and the goliaths were taken prisoner by an unknown power. The only member of the tribe not taken was a young dawncaller named Kalitale Firebringer Aotearoa, who was away trading with the nearby dwarves at the time.
Kalitale earned his common name “Firebringer” early in life when he learned to use his inspirational abilities to add fire to his people’s weapons. It is supposed that this ability is another aspect of his draconic heritage. Training as a dawncaller for the tribe he learned both the bardic aspects of the role as lore keeper and the martial skills of the role as protector. His abilities and talents led him to the battle field early to assist the tribe during an invasion of goblinoids. Though young, he acquitted himself well and earned much praise for his ability to assist his allies as well as for his own strong arm. The long association with the dragon had helped the tribe develop more organized fighting skills and training most other goliath tribes.
Because of his valorous actions in this fight he was honored by being presented to the Ancient Flame. His distant progenitor praised him and presented him with a gift. He was given a sword, but the rough and unfinished look made Firebringer concerned at first. However, as his grasped the sword he it seemed heavier than expected and then seemed to grow to fill his size and strength. At his jump of surprise, the Ancient Flame gave a kindly laugh, “Yes, I think this sword will suit you well. Its name is Unfettered and I give you a charge to learn about your sword. You will find much to inspire, and empower, you in your duties. Gather the good people around you and help them to win their desires. That is the role of a leader.”
For some time Firebringer’s life was relatively happy and content. He continued to learn and grow. During this time he was able to learn something about his sword – that it was an ancient weapon forged by a dwarf and a goliath held captive by giants, and that by recreating that feat he might unlock some power within the sword. During a visit to the nearby dwarf city, Firebringer used one of the forges there to fashion a large, heavy mace. Working without rest or food he finished the task and named the mace “Devotion”. After this he found that Unfettered did indeed hold some latent magic, and also allowed him to use some of his martial abilities more. However, he also found that in empowering Unfettered that he lost some small power. This feat endeared him to the dwarves and led to more visits for Firebringer during the trading missions. His circle of friends continued to grow.
Unfettered did indeed serve him well in the occasional fight against the goblinoids as well as the trolls, ettins, and other creatures of the mountains. Firebringer and his tribe even dealt with a young adult white dragon that attempted to move into the area. By that time Firebringer had recovered two of the pieces of a group of items known as the Raiment of the Four. Tied to the elements, the ability the two items gave combined to resist cold was of great help during the attack on the white dragon. So was his ability to infuse the attacks of his allies with fire. It was at this time that some of the tribe began to call him the Warlord of the Flame. His efforts and abilities, as well as his friendliness, gained him and the tribe many friends and allies. He sometimes wondered why the Ancient Flame came to their aid so little, but as they were able to deal with the problems without his aid he was content.
It was shortly after that battle that the Ancient Flame disappeared. Attempts to contact him in the normal ways were fruitless and his audience chamber stayed empty. The tribe did what they could to find him, but to no avail. Assuming that he was off on his own business they didn’t worry about him. After all, what could harm so old and powerful a dragon. Firebringer assumes that they now know – as six months later the entire tribe disappeared while he was away trading with the dwarves.
The entire mountain range was soon over run by a veritable army of giants, yetis, and other creatures. The many bands of invaders were poorly organized, but all answered to a being the called “the Dark Lord”. Firebringer returned to the dwarven city just in time to help fight off an attack of giants. His pleas for help in driving out the invaders fell on mostly deaf ears – the dwarves had their own problems. He was able to convince a few to help his cause however, including a cleric of Moradin named Garath Stonebeard. Thinking that the Ancient Flame was the best chance for retaking the land Firebringer and Garath set off to find out where the gold dragon had gone.
Along the way the two companions sought new allies for the fight to retake the mountains. They made friends with the gnomes, with other dwarves and goliaths, even with some of the less civilized denizens of the mountains, such as the feral garguns. Many of these groups pledged their help when the time came to fight the Dark Lord. Firebringer’s past exploits gave him a reputation within the mountains that made it easier to find good and stout-hearted people. His hunt to find his people and the Ancient Flame made little progress, but his efforts to gather a coalition to fight made great advances. Many people he talked to became so devoted that they left their own cities and tribes and devoted themselves to Firebringer and his mission. These followers grow constantly, and provide the beginnings of a cadre for the eventual Army of the Flame.
In his search Firebringer eventually found the Ancient Flame’s treasure chamber. It had already been found by a group of giants. While Firebringer and his companions brought most of the giants down together, a trap left Firebringer facing the last stone giant alone. He was able to defeat the giant. As the foe fell, an apparition of the Ancient Flame appeared and spoke to Firebringer. It said that the Ancient Flame had found out decades ago about a terrible foe that was coming – and that if his own power was lost from the mountains that the foe could not be defeated. Knowing that even he was vulnerable he found a way to send some of his power and even soul into others. The apparition told Firebringer that this was why his interaction among the mountains has slowed, because he was sending more of his power into others. Eventually, he divided himself so far that all that was left was those he empowered and a few spiritual remnants such as this. He declared Firebringer to be one of his Flames and told him that he would continue to grow in power, that just as dragons combined magical and physical might so would Firebringer. The last two messages were that his people were safe, but that only the defeat of the Dark Lord could release them, and a reiteration of an earlier command, “Gather the good people around you and help them to win. That is the role of my warlord.”
Since then Firebringer has doubled his efforts to bring the good people of the mountain together against the Dark Lord. He also seeks for other Flames – those empowered by the soul of the Ancient Flame. His diplomatic actions, and his military ones, are growing the coalition all the time.
Description
Tall, with mottled grey skin and lithoderms. Golden eyes, and many of his lithoderms have a metallic sheen. Strong even for a goliath, he is also very charismatic and friendly. His loud, authoritative voice can cut through even the din of battle to encourage and inspire.
Tall, with mottled grey skin and lithoderms. Golden eyes, and many of his lithoderms have a metallic sheen. Strong even for a goliath, he is also very charismatic and friendly. His loud, authoritative voice can cut through even the din of battle to encourage and inspire.
haha!:D
Heh, goblins. Tall Round wanted to wade through the room, clearing a path with his axe and giving his plate a work-out with their morningstars and javelins. Honestly, it’d probably be easier he thinks as he launches himself through the air catching the next brace.
But this is more fun.
And it’s quieter. Even though we haven’t seen sky in 3 days, we don’t know how much farther it is until we reach the Hydra of Aldrich Keep. If the story holds, the Hydra’s prime possession, the jewel he holds above all others is only a piece of Quartz. A large piece to be sure, but if you didn’t know what lies hidden within, not worth more than 130 gold. 150 if you’re lucky. But stored within the many facets of this gem are the lives of all the greatest heroes this Hydra has slain, and before that the Red Dragon Rethail, and before that the Shadow Prince Nirain.
How many lives? How many stories? From Heroes to Peasants of the Shadow Empire, their entire lives are recorded in the smokey quartz. All you need is the right vibration and a glimmer of light on the facet of the crystal to let it out.
So many lives … so many stories … held in perfect clarity…
Jones shimmies down the wooden support next to the wall and drops the last 10 feet silently to the ground sidling up behind the door guard and sliding his blade around the front of the guard’s neck, the soft gurgle of blood is all but drowned out by the raucous sounds of feasting echoing throughout the hall.
He wipes the blood from his blade on goblin’s ragged armor and looks down at the blank and empty eyes staring forever more at the darkened ceiling. His hand wanders again to the small journal he carries in his belt under the armor, his mind tracing the leather binding and the countless stories and lives held within on it’s pages. Kneeling down he looks into the face of the goblin, wondering at the scars that spatter his face. What stories he has seen? What fates brought him to be standing at this door this night? He slowly presses goblin’s eyes closed and then rises and slides silently from the room.
Don’t worry, your friends will join you soon.
I’ll need Tall Round further into the dungeon, so once I make sure of what lies in the room ahead I’ll go back for him and help cut his way through the party. It’ll be past dinner then, and most of the goblins will be asleep, but even so, the dwarf would never be able to sneak through the room.
History
Ivan Johanis of Feathertree, later to be known as Jones, grew up in the small Halfling village of Feathertree, so named for the great white-wood tree that grew in the center of the town. Though the tree has been bare of leaves for more decades than anyone can remember, it still produces a thick sweet sap that can attract birds year round, often times in such quantities that the branches appear lush and thick with the foliage of the living birds feasting on the deep amber sap.
Ever since he was a Quarterling, Ivan liked nothing more than to run and explore wherever he could. While this may not be a rarity among the Halfling people, when the young Johanis would get to the top of the highest tree, or to the back of the deepest cave and would finally get that bit of crystal, or that speckled egg he worked so hard for, he’d loose interest in it. Sometimes discarding it at the mouth of the cave on his way home, or giving it away to the first person he saw who might like it.
You see, it was the thrill of the Hunt, the tests of speed and skill that were required to obtain the bit of treasure that drove him, and not the material gain.
Of course you can’t live a life pushing yourself to your physical limits and not expect things to go wrong every once in a while. Ivan fell from a tall tree he was climbing and broke his leg upon landing. For the following few months he was in the tender care of his grandmother, the village’s local healer and wise woman. Auntie Marie, as she was known to the children, would always be telling stories. All the young Halflings would commonly spend Sunday evenings camped out under a shade-fly, or in the town hall when the weather was bad, listening to the fantastic stories that Auntie Marie would tell. Ivan, being her own grandchild, had heard more than most, but when he was hobbled with a broken leg and could not go on his regular adventures, he had Auntie’s attention and stories every day.
The Sunday stories were always high adventure and fantasy, the tales of great heroes exploring new worlds either deep below the ground or sometimes up in the clouds; but these were often far more sedate stories. Tales of the lives of average Halflings, living day to day with the trials and tribulations that normal people are forced to deal with. Auntie Marie painted them with such vivid detail that Ivan felt he had lived the stories himself, sometimes understanding people he had known his entire life, but never in that way.
After his leg healed, he resumed his explorations and the Hunt for Adventure and Treasure … but he also listened more, to the lives and everyday adventures of normal people. Gathering their stories and lives together.
When he came of age and it became time for Ivan to leave the shelter of Feathertree, he would carry his old journal with him wherever he could. Though he was known to everyone as a daring Treasure Hunter, in it for the challenge and not the reward, his prize possession, more than the gold and jewels he brought out of dungeons deep and caverns old, more than the fine suit of Mithral Chain that protected him from spears and arrow shafts, more so than his twined Shortswords that helped him ply his blood trade, was the old leather journal that he kept tucked inside his belt, unwilling to trust it even to his Bag of Holding.
For within those faded pages and the cracked leather binding, he gathered the stories and lives of everyone he met, every strand of fate he touched in his adventures. This was his greatest treasure. This would be what he would bring back to Auntie Marie, far away in Feathertree.
These stories, some his own fantastic adventures, some the daily plights of the city folk he met across the land, would be his legacy.
Tall Round:
Lvl 10 Dwarven Cohort, Fighter.
Mechanics
Ivan Johanis of Feathertree
Neutral Good Halfling Rogue
Languages: Common, Halfling, Dwarven, Goblin
. . . . . . . Base . .Item. .Modifier
Strength: . . . 8 . . +4 . . 1
Dexterity: . . .22 . .+4 . . 8 (17 base, +2 Racial, +3 Level)
Constituion: . 12 . . . . . . 1
Inteligence: . 14 . . . . . . 2
Wisdom: . . . .12 . . . . . . 1
Charisma: . . .12 . . +2 . . 2
HP: 56.5
Speed: 30 (20+10[item])
Initive: 8
AC: 10 +6(dex) +4(Mithral ChainShirt) +3 (Armor Enhancement) +2(Nat Armor) +2 (Deflection) +1 (size) = 28
Single Attack: 8 (dex) + 2 (enhancement) +1 (size) + 9 (level) +1 (Weapon Focus) = 21
Full Attack: 19, 19, 14, 14 (Two Weapon Fighting, Improved Two Weapon Fighting)
Fortitude: 6
Reflex: 17
Will: 6
Class Abilities:
Evasion
+4 Vs Traps
Improved Uncanny Dodge
6d6 Backstab Bonus
Improved Evasion
Feats:
Weapon Finesse
Two Weapon Fighting
Leadership
Weapon Focus: Shortsword
Improved Two Weapon Fighting
Skills:
Climb: 5 +1 +2 (racial)
Disable Device: 15 +2
Gather Information: 10 +2
Hide: 13 +8 +4(size)
Jump: 5 +1 +5(item) +2(synergy) +2(racial)
Listen: 15 +1 +2(racial)
Move Silently: 15 +8 +2(racial)
Open Lock: 15 +2
Search: 15 +2
Sense Motive: 5 +1
Spot: 15 +1
Tumble: 15 +8 +2(synergy)
Use Magic Device: 7 +2
Items:
+3 Mithral Chainmail: 10250
+2 ShortSword: 8310
+2 ShortSword: 8310
Amulet of Natural Armor, +2: 8000
Ring of Protection, +2: 8000
Belt of Giant Strength, +4: 16,000
Gloves of Dexterity, +4: 16,000
Cloak of Charisma, +2: 4,000
Boots of Striding and Springing: 5,500
Bag of Holding, type 1: 2,500
Wand of Cure Light Wounds: 750
Miscellaneous Adventuring gear: ~30
. . Backpack, Lantern, Rope, Grappling Hook, Bedroll, Food, Tent, Shovel
Mementos of adventure and stories: 350
. . Amethyst from a dead farmer's heirloom, Gold Chain from the neck of a War Chief in the Black Forest
Suffice it to say, he's a foot taller than a Halfling and likes his good food and drink ;)
I will say this: Mercurius... you may have just invented my new favorite Spellbook info layout.
Since I'm disqualified, I may try and offer up some commentary on the entries while the judges are working.
I will say this: Mercurius... you may have just invented my new favorite Spellbook info layout.
Really? That's good to hear... I look at it and just think it's awfully annoying to sort through.
Well, this is one competition where everyone has a longer entry than me! :D I have a half-done entry, but I didn't get the background finished. Oh well. I'm highly amused by Mercurius's entry, especially since it mentioned a previous entry of mine, and brought up my favorite villain EVER.
Fluff:
Show
Jack Couran has led a life that most others would not think leads to one of any great renown or adventure, but then Jack never cared much about what others think. When Jack was a small boy, he grew up in the shadier alleys of the port town of Ruon, surrounded by deciet and corruption he only had two options growing up; adapt, or die. His mother, Molly Couran, was one of the many ladies of the night polluting the streets of the city, and his father could have been any one of the many sailors and toughs that roamed the streets at least 20 years ago, raised communally by bouncers and madams, Jack never developed a proper sense of family and love, and thus was a loner for most of his life. Growing up, he learned to avoid the eyes (and drunken backhands) of patrons, and found that he could help himself to some extra pocket change in the discarded jackets of the many piggish visitors of the brothels, while they were engaged in their "activities".
After getting into his late teens, Jack became a bouncer at the Pearl Alley, the brothel where he had spent most of his growing years; it was at this point of his life when Jack began to develop his silver tongue. While most thugs and bouncers would just muscle obnoxious fools back into the street, Jack found that a few well-placed words and venomous intimidations were just as effective as a rapier to the gut (although he never hesitates to stick some poor bastard who touches any of his girls the wrong way).
Around the time he turned 19, Jack started expanding his horizons, learning to deal with various information dealers and guilds in Ruon, and eventually he found himself in the service of Joseph Pardell, the premier information broker in the city. After a year of doing odd jobs for the most well connected man in town, Jack got a little too big for his britches and started doing security work without any guild or mob backing, thus angering local tycoon and rumored war-mongerer, Samuel Donnovan, father of the Donnovan family and possibly the richest (counting illicit funds) man in the city. After beating down two of Donnovan's men in a back alley scuffle over "proper ettiquite towards a lady", Jack found that the only way to avert Samuel's wrath was to practically turn his life over to him and start working for him, spending the last bit of money he had, he bought as much dirt on Donnovan as he could from his former employer, Pardell, hoping to work the situation to his liking as much as possible. Pardell was too well aware that he couldn't object to Dononovan taking his best worker, and decided to do what he always did: watch from the sidelines. and make the most of the outcome.
After being molded into his new "family", Jack Couran was being shipped off all over the place running odd (and mostly mundane) jobs for his new boss, but the biggest surprise came when he was asked to go deep into Elven woods to help some hired militia "secure" a spot of land. Afte almost dying fighting off a few waves of monsters and Elven scouts, Jack demanded to know why a chunk of tree stumps was worth so many lives. After being "disciplined" for his questioning of orders, Jack beat it out of another one the boss's go-to guys; he found out that the land was to be cleared for a safehouse for pirates and smuggled goods. Enraged that he was being tossed out in the dark and almost left to die, Jack decided that his life would his once again; in the deep night Jack snuck aboard the Moonslipper, Donnovan's largest merchant ship. All his years avoiding doing seedy work came together for Jack that night, the docks held no hurdle for him, he hopped aboard the ship, slew most of the men on board and stole as much as he could carry off the boat.
Now with both the Donnovan family and the hoodwinked pirates after his life, Jack left the only town he ever knew with a Halfling caravan headed north, carrying only burning memories and a sack of pirate treaure, he knows he will be back, for the pirates, for the thugs and drunks that broke his fragile childhood, and most of all Sam Donnovan, the man who almost tricked him out of his own life.
Jack stands about 5'11" and wieghs around 160 lbs., he has a lean, muscular build and skin tanned from living by the sea. He has green eyes and wavvy, dirty blonde hair. He has two tattoos; one of a Jack of Spades on his right shoulder, and the word "Rebel" in Orcish across his stomach. He has a silver tongue and isn't afraid to use his charm and wit to get himself in and out of trouble, he has a problem forming meaning relationships, but respects the working girls for the hell they live daily. His humor is immature and crude, but he can handle talking with the grown-ups if the need arises. In combat, Jack focuses on living more than anything and prefers to infuriate and mock opponents during fights, although anytime he can avoid fighting, he will choose the less bloody path.
Jack Couran has led a life that most others would not think leads to one of any great renown or adventure, but then Jack never cared much about what others think. When Jack was a small boy, he grew up in the shadier alleys of the port town of Ruon, surrounded by deciet and corruption he only had two options growing up; adapt, or die. His mother, Molly Couran, was one of the many ladies of the night polluting the streets of the city, and his father could have been any one of the many sailors and toughs that roamed the streets at least 20 years ago, raised communally by bouncers and madams, Jack never developed a proper sense of family and love, and thus was a loner for most of his life. Growing up, he learned to avoid the eyes (and drunken backhands) of patrons, and found that he could help himself to some extra pocket change in the discarded jackets of the many piggish visitors of the brothels, while they were engaged in their "activities".
After getting into his late teens, Jack became a bouncer at the Pearl Alley, the brothel where he had spent most of his growing years; it was at this point of his life when Jack began to develop his silver tongue. While most thugs and bouncers would just muscle obnoxious fools back into the street, Jack found that a few well-placed words and venomous intimidations were just as effective as a rapier to the gut (although he never hesitates to stick some poor bastard who touches any of his girls the wrong way).
Around the time he turned 19, Jack started expanding his horizons, learning to deal with various information dealers and guilds in Ruon, and eventually he found himself in the service of Joseph Pardell, the premier information broker in the city. After a year of doing odd jobs for the most well connected man in town, Jack got a little too big for his britches and started doing security work without any guild or mob backing, thus angering local tycoon and rumored war-mongerer, Samuel Donnovan, father of the Donnovan family and possibly the richest (counting illicit funds) man in the city. After beating down two of Donnovan's men in a back alley scuffle over "proper ettiquite towards a lady", Jack found that the only way to avert Samuel's wrath was to practically turn his life over to him and start working for him, spending the last bit of money he had, he bought as much dirt on Donnovan as he could from his former employer, Pardell, hoping to work the situation to his liking as much as possible. Pardell was too well aware that he couldn't object to Dononovan taking his best worker, and decided to do what he always did: watch from the sidelines. and make the most of the outcome.
After being molded into his new "family", Jack Couran was being shipped off all over the place running odd (and mostly mundane) jobs for his new boss, but the biggest surprise came when he was asked to go deep into Elven woods to help some hired militia "secure" a spot of land. Afte almost dying fighting off a few waves of monsters and Elven scouts, Jack demanded to know why a chunk of tree stumps was worth so many lives. After being "disciplined" for his questioning of orders, Jack beat it out of another one the boss's go-to guys; he found out that the land was to be cleared for a safehouse for pirates and smuggled goods. Enraged that he was being tossed out in the dark and almost left to die, Jack decided that his life would his once again; in the deep night Jack snuck aboard the Moonslipper, Donnovan's largest merchant ship. All his years avoiding doing seedy work came together for Jack that night, the docks held no hurdle for him, he hopped aboard the ship, slew most of the men on board and stole as much as he could carry off the boat.
Now with both the Donnovan family and the hoodwinked pirates after his life, Jack left the only town he ever knew with a Halfling caravan headed north, carrying only burning memories and a sack of pirate treaure, he knows he will be back, for the pirates, for the thugs and drunks that broke his fragile childhood, and most of all Sam Donnovan, the man who almost tricked him out of his own life.
Jack stands about 5'11" and wieghs around 160 lbs., he has a lean, muscular build and skin tanned from living by the sea. He has green eyes and wavvy, dirty blonde hair. He has two tattoos; one of a Jack of Spades on his right shoulder, and the word "Rebel" in Orcish across his stomach. He has a silver tongue and isn't afraid to use his charm and wit to get himself in and out of trouble, he has a problem forming meaning relationships, but respects the working girls for the hell they live daily. His humor is immature and crude, but he can handle talking with the grown-ups if the need arises. In combat, Jack focuses on living more than anything and prefers to infuriate and mock opponents during fights, although anytime he can avoid fighting, he will choose the less bloody path.
EDIT: Oh well, I missed the deadline by an hour, but I still had fun, I'll try to be more poiniant for Hero Artisan
Technically 7:03 hours, because it's based on GMT. But i'm not in charge here ...
Technically 7:03 hours, because it's based on GMT. But i'm not in charge here ...
lol i forgot the difference because mine says GMT-6 so it was only an hour here in 'Sota, but regardless it was a late entry so it's all good
Oh, but I would like my entry to just be judged, commented on, and scored, but effectively not a runner for a trophy. I'd like to know how well I did, but I've got enough medals, if you know what I mean.
Gotta admit, the turnout on this one was not spectacular, which makes me rather sad. I'd love for this contest to continue on indefinitely, but it makes me wonder.
I'm also curious. Did the holiday coupled with only two weeks (we usually give a bit more than two) affect entries? Did the theme suck? Is the contest losing steam? I'd like to hear some thoughts on why there's so few entries. It gives us a good topic to discuss while the judges do they're thing.
I apologize for not officially calling time last night. The list is updated; good luck to all the contestants!
I'm also curious. Did the holiday coupled with only two weeks (we usually give a bit more than two) affect entries? Did the theme suck? Is the contest losing steam? I'd like to hear some thoughts on why there's so few entries. It gives us a good topic to discuss while the judges do they're thing.
In the Netherlands its Sinterklaas time. Which means everyone's busy!
Other than that, I do think the concept for the competition might be a bit narrow, especially if you want to avoid the standard things.
The theme was potentially interesting, but I think there were perhaps only a few avenues available beyond just building a wilderness character. It may not have been broad enough, or perhaps the people who are most used to thinking outside the concept box have already won a lot of competitions.
Finally, I wouldn't be surprised if there isn't just a dearth of 3.5 entrants anymore. That darn 4.0 has stolen a lot of wind from the sails of the gaming community, though I'd like to believe that such a contest can still continue on for a good long time. I think there were just a lot of factors that fell into place for this one that hurt its popularity.
I suspect that part of it was the timing - I had a chance to work on it over Thanksgiving, but a lot of people probably were tied up with family matters during the holiday that took them away from their chances to work on their entries.
The theme was potentially interesting, but I think there were perhaps only a few avenues available beyond just building a wilderness character. It may not have been broad enough, or perhaps the people who are most used to thinking outside the concept box have already won a lot of competitions.
Finally, I wouldn't be surprised if there isn't just a dearth of 3.5 entrants anymore. That darn 4.0 has stolen a lot of wind from the sails of the gaming community, though I'd like to believe that such a contest can still continue on for a good long time. I think there were just a lot of factors that fell into place for this one that hurt its popularity.
I think 4th edition is still a bit new for that. I've been playing it regularly for nearly half a year, and I still wouldn't swear to know its rules well. 3.5 is still a lot simpler to me, and has a lot more material.
I think 4th edition is still a bit new for that. I've been playing it regularly for nearly half a year, and I still wouldn't swear to know its rules well. 3.5 is still a lot simpler to me, and has a lot more material.
As the DM for our 4e game, i learned the rules pretty quick and pretty well (though when someone gets "Dazed," i still have to hit the book and see what that means). One of the problems is that the players who don't care as much about knowing the knitty gritty of how everything works (or who are just more busy) often times have trouble understanding what all their powers do (also, it's a lot to copy down onto character sheets). I've taken to making copies out from the book for all the player's abilities so that they don't have to sit there with the PHB open on their lap the entire session :P
Back on-topic, i think the 2-week window with half of that being a "holiday" (at least for us college kids [or those who have college kids (or younger) ] ) Didn't help the turnout. I can't really say for the topic, the only other competitions i've even heard about were to Behold the Power of Cheese, and the Action Hero. With 4e causing distraction (and the threads being shunted into a sub-section of the forums) maybe leaving extra-extra spotting time would be good.
I apologize for not officially calling time last night.
It's all right, I misread the time part so I hold no grudges
I'm also curious. Did the holiday coupled with only two weeks (we usually give a bit more than two) affect entries? Did the theme suck? Is the contest losing steam? I'd like to hear some thoughts on why there's so few entries. It gives us a good topic to discuss while the judges do they're thing.
Holidays+finals made it a bit difficult to give this top priority, and the theme made it hard to not get into some sort of cliched hunter concept; it was still fun though!
), and I guess I never considered that that wasn't true for others.I also haven't posted a link in the Previous Editions section in a while. I'll need to remember that for HC20.
)The holiday didn't help me, but didn't really hurt me either. I think the holidays are going to be like that, EVERYBODY expects people to have mroe free time so everybody plans things to take up that extra time. Even those that get extra time may be somewhere that they can't use it on the contest. The theme didn't really grab me - at least not the way of the others have, but so much of that is personal preference. I almost think it was too broad - almost every adventurer is "hunting" for something.
I think the long wait between #18 ending and this one may have contributed also. One reason I didn't see the new contest for over a week was because I'd gotten out of the habit of checking up every few days. I think the bad luck fairy that hit the judging for #18 hung around for this one too. But I think it will pick back up, there are too many people that like 3.5 and these contests are just too much fun.
I really did enjoy this one though, the vast number of allowed sources let me finally build up the Dragonfire Inspiration melee bard I've wanted to for quite a while. Actually I finally got to put a whole bunch of concepts together I've had floating around in my head - goliaths, bards, Bo9S, dragonfire inspiration, gathering an army. I just wish I had had more time for the background. I really could have gone off on this one.
Personally, I liked the theme this time around. I doubt it kept people from entering. Overall, I'd say it was an "average" concept. My favorite concept has probably been Heroes of Horror-esque characters or "It's the End of the World as We Know It." My least favorite (by far) was the forced multi-classing competition (way back in the day, when I was a relatively new judge).
This one was middle ground for me, and I doubt that the theme really killed a lot of interest.
As for 4e and the future of the HC competitions... it seems like fewer people are on the boards, or at least, on these sections of the boards. I don't know if it's 4e, the economy, or if I'm just visiting at off hours, but there is definitely less traffic.
Personally, I am almost certain never to play in a 4e campaign. There was a rather "ugly" scenario that took place at the local gaming store a while back, and... well, that store has closed, and the gaming community basically shattered in my area. My regulars still game, but since we all come with a massive 3.5e collection...
As such, I can't really gauge how popular 4e has proven in my area. (My usual guage, the book shelves at Books-a-million, are not very helpful... nothing is selling well.) So, I don't know if that's a cause for participation decline or not.
Interesting. I'll keep this in mind for future contests. I saw the holiday weekend as a massive amount of free time (I spent most of it playing WoW
It might be true, especially with the new expansion. It's not true for me (anymore), nor did I have any holidays. Part of getting your entry in is keeping it slow, but start early with a concept.
I had my entry mostly typed when the scat hit the fan, but I had my sister type the rest of my stat block and spell book.
I liked the idea of the hunter or gatherer, it's something that I wouldn't have thought of myself, but I ended up with an altogether usable character concept.
I'm guessing it was the timing that kept people away more than anything.
However, it did let me put togther a character I'd love to play some day, so I can't really complain.
Just figured I'd ask, since the thread's been dormant for a while.
I have scores from one judge already. Another has indicated he hopes to be done within a week. The third judge is a potential catastrophe, since I haven't heard from him yet. ;)
I wasn't going to ask, since with Sinterklaas just over, I doubt anyone had any time on their hands, but rather spend it making poems, playing zwarte Piet or Sinterklaas himself.
After the last competition, I will hold no catastrophe in a judge's life as infeasible. That was beyond insane. To the judges, take you time. Have a merry Christmas. May the holiday season act as a powerful "Remove Curse" effect, granting you immunity to the wave of terror that hit Z & I. The scores will arrive when they arrive.
May the holiday season act as a powerful "Remove Curse" effect, granting you immunity to the wave of terror that hit Z & I. The scores will arrive when they arrive.
Don't forget our third judge, Endarrion, who had to bow out very early on in the judging process due to real-life concerns.
And I'm not in a hurry, really. I was mostly asking to bump the thread without posting only a "
" smiley.*
As for this contest, I know have scores from two judges. Yay! Hopefully, they get to post some comments soon. Also hopefully, I'll have scores from the third judge soon.
Wow. We could actually end up getting HC20 started up before the end of the year!
Don't Look, Judges, until you're done scoring
I feel sorry for them for my entry. It was a bear to deal with on the back end, and I know the character and built it. I imagine I'm going to get reamed for clarity.
And because I forgot to list Ladurie's Lore ability, which would have a bonus of +14, incidentally...
And because I forgot to list Ladurie's Lore ability, which would have a bonus of +14, incidentally...
After the last competition, I will hold no catastrophe in a judge's life as infeasible. That was beyond insane. To the judges, take you time. Have a merry Christmas. May the holiday season act as a powerful "Remove Curse" effect, granting you immunity to the wave of terror that hit Z & I. The scores will arrive when they arrive.
I must admit that there was one thing that crossed my mind that might have influenced the string of disasters: Location. Europe has had a very calm autumn, which would nullify quite a few of the disasters that occured with the judges in the US. Therefore I'd like to suggest that all judges move to the Netherlands, to avoid further disaster. Indeed, it would give you a proper december feast as well (Sinterklaas).
...if I'm going to live somewhere solely based on the quality and amount of food I have access too, then Grandma's house is right here in Kentucky. Not to belittle your feasts, but seriously, it is grandma's house.
And actually, while Kentucky is usually home to some abnormal weather changes (I've seen Storm to Sunshine in 3 1/2 minutes before), the disaster that spawned the last string of disasters actually started in the gulf coast.
And the fact that it would give you an instant gaming group is just a nice side effect, eh? ;)
Oh, gaming groups isn't the problem. I'm quite in the centre of a 20-30 group of potential players all living within 10 miles of me.
Lily
Black Kitten - Lily
Thematic Creativity: Hunting love, an interesting concept.
Background Content: Your character has a goal, a past, companions, and enemies, which is good. How did she meet Sagon and Ira though?
Rules Use: You seem to be missing the feat for your 9th HD. You forgot the Aasimar's racial bonuses to Spot and Listen. Nitpick: Your Charisma modifier for level 1 seems wrong.
Clarity: I love the clarity of the format; next time I participate I might steal it.
Total: Overall, a good entry.
Thematic Creativity: Hunting love, an interesting concept.
Background Content: Your character has a goal, a past, companions, and enemies, which is good. How did she meet Sagon and Ira though?
Rules Use: You seem to be missing the feat for your 9th HD. You forgot the Aasimar's racial bonuses to Spot and Listen. Nitpick: Your Charisma modifier for level 1 seems wrong.
Clarity: I love the clarity of the format; next time I participate I might steal it.
Total: Overall, a good entry.
LilyBlack Kitten - Lily
Thematic Creativity: Hunting love, an interesting concept.
Background Content: Your character has a goal, a past, companions, and enemies, which is good. How did she meet Sagon and Ira though?
Rules Use: You seem to be missing the feat for your 9th HD. You forgot the Aasimar's racial bonuses to Spot and Listen. Nitpick: Your Charisma modifier for level 1 seems wrong.
Clarity: I love the clarity of the format; next time I participate I might steal it.
Total: Overall, a good entry.
Haruspex
Whoops! Ehehehe, he is a Divinator (big surprise, right?) and he dropped Enchantments. I'd say I can't believe I forgot, but that's just not true. Unfortunately, it's all too believable of me.
I thought I had the skills covered smartly by just tacking on an extra skill after level eight. I'm not entirely sure why I shorted him a skill. Perhaps after the scores come up, I'll add another Knowledge of some sort.
Thank you kindly for your comments, especially since that isn't really your thing. They are much appreciated.
I thought I had the skills covered smartly by just tacking on an extra skill after level eight. I'm not entirely sure why I shorted him a skill. Perhaps after the scores come up, I'll add another Knowledge of some sort.
Thank you kindly for your comments, especially since that isn't really your thing. They are much appreciated.
"Alarmingly detailed." I like that.
Just how Ladurie should be.EDIT:
[Mock Horror]
Oh no! I completely forgot about the editing time limit on my entry. Why? Why did I have to go change three words in my entry? WHY?!?!?!?!
I can only hope, at this rate, that the judges, in their infinite mercy and wisdom, will at least deem my entry worthy of scoring and comment, even if I must accept the cruel, cruel fact that I am no longer in the running for a medal.
Please, judges! I implore you to score and comment upon my entry! I realize that I no longer deserve a medal, but will you perform this one act of mercy? Please! Please!
[/Mock Horror]
In as close to a serious tone as I can ever possibly take, I DQ'd myself on purpose, largely b/c I've already scored enough victories in these contests (and since I have my custom title as a result), leaving me w/ no glory to gain as a contestant.
However, I do enjoy creating characters and stories, and I would really, really appreciate it if, as per my highlighted requests above, if I could receive a score and commentary on my entry, even though I do not qualify for a medal.
Although I suspect I know what some of my feedback will be since my entry was built w/ one purpose in mind: create an entry longer than whatever jennibert submits.
Since she didn't enter, I do not know I met my goal or not...
In as close to a serious tone as I can ever possibly take, I DQ'd myself on purpose, largely b/c I've already scored enough victories in these contests (and since I have my custom title as a result), leaving me w/ no glory to gain as a contestant.
However, I do enjoy creating characters and stories, and I would really, really appreciate it if, as per my highlighted requests above, if I could receive a score and commentary on my entry, even though I do not qualify for a medal.
Although I suspect I know what some of my feedback will be since my entry was built w/ one purpose in mind: create an entry longer than whatever jennibert submits.
Since she didn't enter, I do not know I met my goal or not...
I didn't actually disqualify my entry, but I did ask that I not be awarded a medal, even if I placed. I've got plenty of golds to my name, but I do want to know where I stand in comparison, because I'm a competitive sort of guy and I like to know how I did. So I wanted scores, and even if I scored best, I didn't actually want to deprive someone else of the gold they would have gotten without my involvement.
oh, and...
Since I won't get to challenge jennibert on length, I can still see how I fair against you. (Ever since you displaced me as highest-scoring contestant ever...)
May the best man win.
(And since I may not have been scored, it seems UPS failed to deliver the bribes... again. This could get interesting.)
4 deadlines within 2 days was not the best of ideas, I think...
Oh, and Heros... which Hero Craftsman contest are you advertising?
*Looks innocent*
This one? I think my brain is still working...
Judges reserve the right to disqualify entries ... as they see fit.
I am invoking my uber-powers of coordinator (and my skill at artfully misquoting myself) to officially disqualify Mercurius, because he's a big meanie head for winning so often! Ha! Take that!
And with that bit of business out of the way, let's move on to the scores for HC19!
Coming in third place and winning a BRONZE medal, with a final average score of 26.00:
Bronze Medal Winner
Kalitale Firebringer Aotearoa, Warlord of the Flame, by Kit the Odd
Kalitale Firebringer Aotearoa, Warlord of the Flame, by Kit the Odd
silver...Grats to all the theme and whole competition winners!
As someone who helped get this whole thing started all the way back with the first competition, that makes me very proud.
Way to go all who tackled the so-called "uninspiring theme" and the Thanksgiving/Sinterklaas holiday to create some mold breaking characters. I thought the lot of us did pretty well.
Finally!Thanks again for all the judges' time and effort. Glad to see that the problems plaguing last time haven't seemed to carry over completely.
First, my standard rant.
I don't have complicated rubrics or systems like some folks [eyes Jason] to determine how I scored you. Here are my critera:
Thematic Creativity: Looking for interesting and unusual characters here. Unusual class/race combos, nonstereotypical archetypes, and other oddness got higher points, assuming it made logical sense for the character (I'm not trying to encourage weirdness for weirdness's sake). Also, classics done well (as opposed to stereotypes regurgitated) impress me.
This includes stuff surrounding your character.
Background: A background that made sense, obviously. I wanted one that told me something about your character, and that felt right for a PC of your race/class/level. Extra points for having your PC interact with the world (allies, enemies, contacts, organizations, whatever).
Mechanics/Rules Use: I primarily looked for errors here. I'd rather see a weak build that works than a strong build that's riddled with bad math.
Clarity: How easy was it to read your entry? Use of bolding = good; wall-o-text = bad. Was the entry arranged coherently? Or was the stat block mixed with the stat breakdown? Anything I had to reverse-engineer got negative points.
And now, the comments! Comments aren't as detailed as they might have been...bleah.
Lily, Queen of Hearts
Thematic Creativity: I like the "hunter of love"...it makes me think of anime for some reason. Very unusual and creative.
Background: Excellent background. I like the various allies and enemies, and the detailed histories.
Extra kudos for use of "mature themes" in an intelligent fashion.
Rules Use #1: Reflex save is wrong. You included a +2 Dex modifier, but Lily's Dex is 12. Should be +8.
#2: You get one free set of clothing, meaning you should have an extra 10 gp pocket change for one of the explorer's outfits.
#3: You appear to have shorted yourself a feat. An 11th-level character has 4 feats (at levels 1, 3, 6 and 9), but Lily has only 3.
Clarity #1: Minor misspellings and grammatical errors.
Background: Excellent background. I like the various allies and enemies, and the detailed histories.
Extra kudos for use of "mature themes" in an intelligent fashion.
Rules Use #1: Reflex save is wrong. You included a +2 Dex modifier, but Lily's Dex is 12. Should be +8.
#2: You get one free set of clothing, meaning you should have an extra 10 gp pocket change for one of the explorer's outfits.
#3: You appear to have shorted yourself a feat. An 11th-level character has 4 feats (at levels 1, 3, 6 and 9), but Lily has only 3.
Clarity #1: Minor misspellings and grammatical errors.
Anyways, I'll admit, I knew from the moment I started typing that there would be WAY, WAY, WAY TOO MUCH stuff in my entry. That was partially deliberate.
Then again, I must say, it was hilarious to try and mix "The First Thanksgiving," with "Halo 2."
Still, the next time I enter, I will try to be more serious. Oh, and I need a reminder about that cursed 30 minute editing rule...
Hey! What's wrong with needless complicated rubrics and scoring guides as a function of determining character scores? ;)
Nothing, my good sir.
All right, I admit it: I scored entries by rolling 1d10 for each category. :P
Then again, I must say, it was hilarious to try and mix "The First Thanksgiving," with "Halo 2."
It did make me want to run a "New World" campaign, featuriing wood elves as Native Americans and hobgoblins as Mayans and Aztecs.
Maybe the Inuit and Tlingit could be halflings...that seems appropriate for some odd reason.
I was reading the first post, and kicking around ideas, which I was discussing with my roommate. I had just come up with the idea of rewriting the Thanksgiving Story to fit a D&D universe. (At this point, my roommate is turning on the Xbox...)
Me: "You know, I think I'll play a Master Chef."
(Halo Logo appears)
My Roommate: "DO IT!!!"
Ladurie AyersThematic Creativity: Nice...a seeker after knowledge. Also a bit of a Machivellian manipulator. I am curious as to why you made Ladurie an illusionist...while it didn't conflict with any of her background, I didn't see any specific reasons for it either.
Background: Very thorough and interesting, with lots of past events to draw from.
Ladurie doesn't seem to be the type to play well with others, except in the case of either political machinations or exploriong the ateliers that dot the countryside...both perfectly valid adventure seeds, but still somewhat limited.
Rules Use: Umm...I briefly thought you had made a mistake. That should count against you somehow...:P
Clarity: Minor misspellings (one, actually).
SaintKeelon, the request for your custom title has been received, but it might take a little while to get it done due to a combination of the weather out in Seattle and the holidays. If it's not done shortly after New Years, I'll follow up to see what the status is.
Jack Couran
Thematic Creativity: In truth, I don't think the "hunter" or "gatherer" theme is particularly strong here...Jack appears to be hunting Samuel Donnovan at the end of his story, but this theme was not developed on as much as I would have liked.
Background: I like Jack's background - it gave a good sense of where he came from, why he is the way he is, and who he associates with. Various NPCs = good, and a nemesis is excellent. My only real objection here is that Jack didn't feel terribly distinctive...a solid, believeable character, but he didn't strike me as being all that original.
Rules Use #1: The stat block says that Jack "can subtract up to 6 from attack to gain +6 AC [Combat Expertise]." This is incorrect; Combat Expertise has a maximum AC bonus/attack penalty of +/-5.
#2: Jack's melee attack is listed as +16/+9; this should be +16/+11.
#3: The damage for Jack's thrown dagger does not include his +2 Strength bonus.
#4: Jack does not qualify for the Combat Expertise feat due to his Intelligence of 10 (he needs a 13).
#5: Jack speaks Orcish, but he has a 10 Int (no bonus languages) and doesn't appear to have spent any skill points on Speak Language.
Clarity #1: Miscellaneous spelling/grammer.
#2: I see you used the "new" stat block...I'm not a fan of it personally, but I didn't count anything off for it, and you did present the information clearly.
Background: I like Jack's background - it gave a good sense of where he came from, why he is the way he is, and who he associates with. Various NPCs = good, and a nemesis is excellent. My only real objection here is that Jack didn't feel terribly distinctive...a solid, believeable character, but he didn't strike me as being all that original.
Rules Use #1: The stat block says that Jack "can subtract up to 6 from attack to gain +6 AC [Combat Expertise]." This is incorrect; Combat Expertise has a maximum AC bonus/attack penalty of +/-5.
#2: Jack's melee attack is listed as +16/+9; this should be +16/+11.
#3: The damage for Jack's thrown dagger does not include his +2 Strength bonus.
#4: Jack does not qualify for the Combat Expertise feat due to his Intelligence of 10 (he needs a 13).
#5: Jack speaks Orcish, but he has a 10 Int (no bonus languages) and doesn't appear to have spent any skill points on Speak Language.
Clarity #1: Miscellaneous spelling/grammer.
#2: I see you used the "new" stat block...I'm not a fan of it personally, but I didn't count anything off for it, and you did present the information clearly.
I don’t think we had any poor entries here, all of the Heroes were well done. And if you should feel hurt by any criticism, look at my comments on my own entry – all comments are intended to be constructive and helpful. As always YMMV, IMHO, etc.
Lily, by Black Kitten
I’ve got to admit that Lily really didn’t “grab” me, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t a fine character. One thing I really did like about your entry is that she is part of a group. We often want the characters entered in these contests to “play well with others” because we are creating a single character, not a full party. Yet in a game we expect a party of characters often with an extensive background together. It is nice to see that here. Especially since this party would probably work well with others as a whole and not just as individuals.
You seem to be missing a 9th level feat. And 1300gp is quite a bit to leave unspent. You could easily get a wand of cure light wounds, a couple of scrolls, or other consumables.
I’ve got to admit that Lily really didn’t “grab” me, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t a fine character. One thing I really did like about your entry is that she is part of a group. We often want the characters entered in these contests to “play well with others” because we are creating a single character, not a full party. Yet in a game we expect a party of characters often with an extensive background together. It is nice to see that here. Especially since this party would probably work well with others as a whole and not just as individuals.
You seem to be missing a 9th level feat. And 1300gp is quite a bit to leave unspent. You could easily get a wand of cure light wounds, a couple of scrolls, or other consumables.
Lily, by Black Kitten
I’ve got to admit that Lily really didn’t “grab” me, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t a fine character. One thing I really did like about your entry is that she is part of a group. We often want the characters entered in these contests to “play well with others” because we are creating a single character, not a full party. Yet in a game we expect a party of characters often with an extensive background together. It is nice to see that here. Especially since this party would probably work well with others as a whole and not just as individuals.
You seem to be missing a 9th level feat. And 1300gp is quite a bit to leave unspent. You could easily get a wand of cure light wounds, a couple of scrolls, or other consumables.
this will help for the next competitionI will admit that this entry was an experiment in ripping off WAY TOO MANY sources, but I had an insane amount of fun creating it anyways.
Well, as to my choice of BBQ sauces... I was sticking to the style most commonly used in my area of the world. Moonlight BBQ is actually the name of my home city's most famous restaurant (several years ago, President Clinton actually stopped in for some Lunch). I can understand your preference, but I am inclined to ask... is there really such a thing as "bad" BBQ sauce?
I will admit that this entry was an experiment in ripping off WAY TOO MANY sources, but I had an insane amount of fun creating it anyways.
Hmm, I suppose if I thought long enough I might be able to think of a BBQ sauce that I would classify as "bad". But then, I probably be more likely to classify it as "some crap somebody tried to CLAIM was BBQ sauce".
As for the multiple source thing...yeah, I really ought to make note of the sources I've used for some of my entries. I don't think I've ever used for than 4 in any given entry - but I'd have to check to make sure. :D And that doesn't even count things like variation of family names for naming purposes. (All 4 of my kids' names have been used at one point or another.)