Plots & PlacesPost your PCs and NPCs for others to reference and enjoy. This is also an alternate location for long-term campaign and plot development. These can be system neutral or relate to any game or system.
- Nebten -
Donner, Sealord of Bahari - CG human male Cleric 5 // Stormlord 1
Spot +3, Listen +3
Initiative +2
AC 20, ff 18, t 12
Hit Points: 44
- Queenie -
Esmeralda Calandra - NG human female Witch 6
Spot +1, Listen +1
Initiative +6
AC 15, ff 13, t 15
Hit Points: 25
- Fenris -
Kyranvik Vondestrok - ( ) human male Psychic Warrior 6
Spot +2, Listen +2
Initiative +0
__________________ -Rhun
"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge - myth is more potent than history - dreams are more powerful than facts - hope always triumphs over experience - laughter is the cure for grief - love is stronger than death." -Robert Fulghum
Last edited by Rhun; 30th August 2009 at 12:22 AM..
D - Drelkat
S - Sarryx
A - Ares
R - Ryan
k' - Kay'el
d - Donner
E - Esmeralda
K - Kyranvik
__________________ -Rhun
"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge - myth is more potent than history - dreams are more powerful than facts - hope always triumphs over experience - laughter is the cure for grief - love is stronger than death." -Robert Fulghum
"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge - myth is more potent than history - dreams are more powerful than facts - hope always triumphs over experience - laughter is the cure for grief - love is stronger than death." -Robert Fulghum
"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge - myth is more potent than history - dreams are more powerful than facts - hope always triumphs over experience - laughter is the cure for grief - love is stronger than death." -Robert Fulghum
Last edited by Rhun; 18th August 2009 at 06:40 PM..
The Right Honorable, The Baron of Troilus, Rance Taggert: A haughty, prideful man, Rance Taggert is the Baron of Troilus, a small Barony in easternmost Coris, on the border of the Eastern Reaches. While the man himself was decidely unlikeable, he did pay quite well to have your company deal with a party of Carthi raiders that had been harassing his farmers and ranchers.
Ismark (the Lesser): Son of the burgomaster of the Township of Barovia, Ismark is a lean, athletic man in his mid twenties. While he has handsome features, he has grown old before his time. Though fairly young, Ismark looks to be near forty. Still, he has bright green eyes, and a mop of dark hair covers his head.
Ireena Kolyana The daughter of Kolyan Indirovich and brother to Ismark, Ireena is a beautiful, svelte woman in her early twenties. Her raven black hair frames a pale, alabaster face. She possesses a delicate, exquisite beauty, and an air of subtle elegance.
Credit
Credit to khimaereus at DeviantArt
__________________ -Rhun
"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge - myth is more potent than history - dreams are more powerful than facts - hope always triumphs over experience - laughter is the cure for grief - love is stronger than death." -Robert Fulghum
Last edited by Rhun; 7th October 2009 at 08:37 PM..
"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge - myth is more potent than history - dreams are more powerful than facts - hope always triumphs over experience - laughter is the cure for grief - love is stronger than death." -Robert Fulghum
Delkat KraylinClass: Cleric
Race: Human
Size: M
Gender: Male
Alignment: NG
Deity: Aditi (Domains: Healing, Sun)
Str: 12 +1 (4p.) Level: 6 XP:
Dex: 10 -- (2p.) BAB: +4 HP: 50 (6d8+12)
Con: 14 +2 (6p.) Grapple: +5 Craft Points: n/a
Int: 10 -- (2p.) Speed: 20' Stat Increases: +1 CHA
Wis: 18 +4 (10p.) Init: +0 Spell Save:Cha: 16 +3 (08p.) ACP: -6 Spell Fail: Base Armor Shld Dex Size Nat Misc TotalArmor: 10 +9 +3 +0 +0 +0 +0 22
Touch: 10 Flatfooted: 22
Spell Res: None
Dmg Red: None
Total Base Mod MiscFort: +7 +5 +2 +0
Ref: +2 +2 +0 +0
Will: +9 +5 +4 +0
Notes:Weapon Attack Damage Critical Range
MW Morningstar +6 1d8+1 20/x2 ------
MW Scimitar +6 1d6+1 18-20/x2 ------
Dagger +5/+4 1d4(+1) 19-20/x2 10 ft
Notes:Languages: Common
Abilities: Turn Undead (10x/day -- Turn Check (at +1 level from Ephod): 1d20+5, Turn Damage: 1.5*(2d6+9), Divine Spells, Spontaneous Cure Spells, Domain Powers & Spells
Feats:
1st - Extra Turning
1st - (bonus) Empowered Turning
3rd - Spurn Death's Touch
6th - Sacred VitalitySpells prepared (Save DC 13 + spell level):
Domains: Healing, Sun
Domain Powers: Healing: cast healing spells at +1 caster level. Sun: Once per day,
you can perform a greater turning against undead
in place of a regular turning. The greater turning is like a normal turning
except that the undead creatures that would be turned are destroyed instead.
Spells Prepared: (DC=14+spell level)
0th - (5) Light, Detect Magic, Resistance, Read Magic, Guidance
1st - (4+1) Divine Favor, Bless, Shield of Faith, Nimbus of Light, Endure Elements(D)
2nd - (4+1) Deific Vengeance, Consecrate, Spiritual Weapon, Bull's Strength, Heat Metal (D)
3rd - (3+1) Lesser Visage of the Deity, Magic Circle vs Evil, Dispel Magic, Searing Light (D)
Skill Points: 27 Max Ranks: 9/4.5
Skills Total Ranks Mod Misc
Concentration 11 9 +2 --
Know (Religion) 9 9 -- --
Know (Planes) 2 2 -- --
Heal 13 7 +4 +2
Notes:Equipment: Cost Weight
MW Morningstar 308gp 6lb
MW Scimitar 315gp 4lb
+1 Full Plate 2650gp 50lb
+1 Heavy Steel Shield 1170gp 15lb
Dagger 2gp 1lb
Periapt of Wisdom +2 4000gp --lb
Ephod of Authority 800gp 2lb
Eternal Wand of Magic Weapon
820gp --lb
Handy Haversack 2000gp 5lb
All items below are in Haversack:
Silver Holy Symbol 25gp 1lb
Bedroll 5sp 5lb
Winter Blanket 5sp 3lb
Sunrod x3 6gp 3lb
Smokestick x2 40gp 1lb
Holy Water x2 50gp 2lb
Healer's Kit 50gp 1lb
Waterskin 1gp 4lb
Trail Rations x6 35sp 7lb
50' Silk Rope 10gp 5lb
Grappling Hook 1gp 4lb
Scrolls (in Haversack)
Sanctuary 25gp --lb
Remove Fear 25gp --lb
Entropic Shield 25gp --lb
Obscuring Mist 25gp --lb
Comprehend Languages 25gp --lb
Silence x2 150gp --lb
Shield Other 150gp --lb
Status 150gp --lb
Total Weight:83 lb Money: 22 gp 5sp
Lgt Med Hvy Lift PushMax Weight: 43 86 130 260 650
Age: 22
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 175 lbs
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Brown
Skin: Tan
Appearance: Studious looking. Close cropped hair. Delkat's eyes flicker with insight and knowledge. Normally choosing to dress in something sensible and appropriate to the situation -- never flashy. He has a birthmark in the shape of the sun on his chest.
Personality: Dry, direct, logical -- always looking for the reason behind things, the cause and/or effect. Humor has been determined to be superfluous.
Background: Delkat is one of the most promising young clergy in the Aditi fold. His zeal in delving into the secrets of the undead have no equal, and his passion for ridding them of their ungodly presence upon this plane unstoppable.
All he knows of his past is a birthmark of the sun on his chest. He was left outside a small temple to Aditi when he was just weeks old. The temple raised him and cared for him. As he grew older, he was sent to train at the monastery, with others who wanted to serve the sun goddess.
He quickly separated himself from his fellow students with his aptitudes and abilities, as if the birthmark was some sort of marker placed by the goddess in the womb.
As he become a full clergyman, he spent many months sequestered in the main library of Aditi, studying all sorts of religious tracts and tomes, but found himself drawn to those which studied the undead. From there, he studied his enemy, their strengths and weaknesses, and helped the militant arm of the church track down and destroy pockets of undeath throughout the land.
He has become quite versed in the destruction of undeath -- and also become a powerful conduit for the power of the sun goddess.
"Suffer no undeath" -- a personal mantra that those close to Delkat hear with a high frequency.
Aditi has graced Delkat with the ability to undo the most feared attacks of the living dead, and also granted him the ability to endure these said attacks upon himself.
Though the church provides Delkat with a purpose and a support network, his thoughts these days travel to his beginnings -- where did he come from? Why did his parents abandon him?
A sage at the monastery recently sent him a scrap of parchment that had a mention of a sun-shaped birthmark -- most of it had been blurred out by the ages and weather, but one word was still legible at the end -- Barovia.
Realizing that clues to his genealogy might be in this far off land, Delkat has taken leave from his duties at the church to investigate.
Name: Sarryx
Class: Dragonfire Adept 6 Starting Level: 6
Race: Human
Region of Origin: Empire of Uldarr
Size: Medium
Gender: Male
Alignment: LG
Deity: Bahamut
Str: 09 -1 (01p.) Level: 6 XP:
Dex: 14 +2 (06p.) BAB: +3 HP: 69 [14+(5*6)+(5*5)]
Con: 20 +5 (13p.) Grapple: +2
Int: 14 +2 (06p.) Speed: 30' Stat Increases: 4th - CON
Wis: 10 +0 (02p.) Init: +2 Spell Save: +1
Cha: 12 +1 (04p.) ACP: -0 Spell Fail: 25%
Base Armor Shld Dex Size Nat Misc TotalArmor: 10 +5 +3 +2 +0 +2 +0 22
Touch: 12 Flatfooted: 20
Spell Res: None
Dmg Red: 2/magic
Total Base Mod MiscFort: +11 +5 +5 +1 [cloak]
Ref: +5 +2 +2 +1 [cloak]
Will: +8 +5 +0 +2 [Iron Will] +1 [cloak]
Notes:Weapon Attack Damage Critical Range
Breath Weapon* n/a 4d6** n/a 15 cone or 30 line
*Note: Breath Weapon can be either Fire or Frost, or a slow-effect, Save DC is 20 for 1/2 damage
** See Dragon Spirit Cincture
Notes:
Blindsense 30'
Languages: Common, Draconic, Celestial
Abilities:
New class per Dragon Magic supplement.
Level 1: Breath weapon 1d6; dragontouched; can learn least invocations; knows 1 invocation
Level 2: Choose a new breath effect; Scales +2; knows 1 invocation
Level 3: Breath weapon 2d6; knows 2 invocations
Level 4: Dragonkin (+4 on diplomacy checks with dragons and their kin; resist dragon-fear as a dragon); knows 2 invocations
Level 5: Breath weapon 3d6; Choose a new breath effect; knows 2 invocations
Level 6: Damage reduction 2/magic; can learn lesser invocations; knows 3 invocations
Feats:
Bonus - Class - Dragontouched [+1 on Listen/Search/Spot, +1 HP, +1 to saves vs paralyze/poison]
Human 1 - Entangling Exhalation [RoDr p101] [Breath weapons
1st - Ability Focus: Breath Weapon [MM. p303]
3rd - Iron Will
6th - Extra Invocation [Complete Arcane]
Invocations Known (Save DC 11): Least - Endure Exposure (1), Magical Insight (3rd), Draconic Knowledge (6th - Feat) ; Lesser - Voidsense (6th)
Skill Points: 54 Max Ranks: 9/5
Skills Total Ranks Mod Misc
Bluff +7 6 1
Diplomacy +7 6 1
Intimidate +7 6 1
Know (Arcana) +15 7 2 +6 Draconic Knowledge
Know (Arch.) +9 1 2 +6 Draconic Knowledge
Know (Dungeon) +13 5 2 +6 Draconic Knowledge
Know (Geo.) +9 1 2 +6 Draconic Knowledge
Know (History) +13 5 2 +6 Draconic Knowledge
Know (Planes) +13 5 2 +6 Draconic Knowledge
Listen +6 5 0 +1 Dragontouched
Move Silently +2 0 2
Search +1 0 1 +1 Dragontouched
Spellcraft +11 1 2 +2 Know{arcana} +6 Draconic Knowledge
Spot +6 5 0 +1 Dragontouched
UMD +10 9 1
Notes:Equipment: Cost Weight
Amulet of Health (+2) 4,000sp 1 lbs
Dragon Spirit Cincture (MIC 95) 2,000sp -
+1 Mithril Chain Shirt 2,100sp 12.5lbs
+1 Darkwood Heavy Shield 1,367sp 5 lbs
Cloak of Resistance (+1) 1,000sp 1 lb
Ring of Sustenance 2,500sp -
Total Weight:19.5lb Money: 33 sp
Lgt Med Hvy Lift PushMax Weight: 30 60 90 180 450
Appearance/Personality
Appearance/Personality:
Sarryx is attractive, but has an intensity to him that puts people off. To him, his new human life is a time limit. A sixty-five year clock that is ticking down to the end of his existence. This puhes him forward and makes him absolutely loathe anything that wastes his time. He is not reckless or foolhardy, being all too aware of his mortality, but he prefers to press onward and achieve something (anything) rather than rest or enjoy leisure time.
Sarryx has silver hair and fair skin that has tanned lightly over the course of the past few years. Early experiments have given him a covering of silver scales around his most vulnerable body parts - his throat, spine, arms and legs. He has a fondness for the smell and texture of burned cloth, and wears clothes with singed edges, favoring golds, reds and oranges.
Sarryx is still a dragon at heart, though his patience and elitism have been tempered with mortality. He loves coin and food, but disdains those things he views as the trappings of humanity - alcohol makes him feel stupid, physical affection only reminds him of what he has become. He is driven, and when it serves him, he can be charming, intimidating or even feral. Like many dragons, he is vulnerable to flattery and praise.
Background
Background: He was born to a clutch of nine eggs, and from the moment he came into the world, he was steeped in violence. He and his elder brother found an unspoken truce and killed their yet unhatched siblings. It was only after they had eaten their kin and rested that they fought. His brother's talons ripped into his limbs and tail, and his teeth tore at his brother's snout. The scars that were set beneath their still-soft scales would give him a flare of uneven scales at his shoulders and tail, his brother a perpetual sneer.
They fought several times over the ensuing months, as dragons are wont to do. When they were old enough to fly, they cast one final glare at one another and set off to find their own territory. Sarryx made his home in the ruins of an old temple. He gradually grew, progressing from a diet of rodents and birds to deer and the occasional goblin. His life was, as far as such things go for a dragon, fairly calm. His world was mostly contained to memories of his birthplace and the territory surrounding his ruins.
His first view of the larger world was when a band of strangers entered his home. Unsure of what to expect, he watched as they uncovered a trapdoor leading to a catacomb beneath his home. He followed them from a good distance as they made their way through the underground. He watched as they emerged both exhausted and enriched with found treasures.
He attacked then, scaring off the larger group and dragging the last down, the young elf maiden's flesh a hearty meal, his valuables an addition to Sarryx's meager hoard.
Sarryx barely gave a second thought to the incident, other than moving his lair to a room in the catacombs. Unbeknownst to him, the death of the young woman had earned his an enemy. It was two years later when a man arrived at his home, bedecked in silver armor, a holy symbol depicting a sword with a lightning bolt for a blade marked on his shield. He carried no weapon - only a mirror - and the still immature dragon sought to take advantage of the fact. He charged the warrior as he raised the mirror, and everything went red with pain.
He awoke confused and weak, almost unable to move. Simply moving his limbs against the ground caused a flare of pain and a welling of blood. He opened his eyes to see a silver dragon standing over him, almost too large for his ruins. It held talons above his throat - now scaleless, soft and vulnerable. Then it withdrew, an act of mercy, pity or contempt, and flew away.
It would be days before Sarryx made sense of what happened. Delirious, raving aloud and faint with hunger, he stumbled into a small town near his lair. While he lay on a bed of straw, being tended to by the pathetic kobolds, he overheard the kobold's speaking of the paladin who had left to avenge his sister's death. They spoke of rumors that he had managed to get ahold of an artifact - one that let a person exchange their base form with that of another.
He had used the damned mirror to exchange his draconic nature with his humanity, although Sarryx found he wasn’t angered by that fact, in fact he found peace within himself and even begrudgingly accepted the kobolds aid.
Sarryx was eventually clothed and left to wander off on his own. The following months were a nightmare to the man as he made sense of his new body and its limitations.
He found work as a librarian and scholar, as it seemed his mind remained keen enough. He gathered knowledge and slowly began to try and rebuild what he had. During his investigations, Sarryx uncovered details about the mirror that was used against him and realized that it also was able to change ones outlook on life. His experiments ranged from dabbling in the mundane to the most obscure forms of knowledge he could uncover. He tried fire breathing with the use of alcohol and a torch, but found it limited. Psionics frustrated him to no end, and he left his investigations of incarnum within days. An expedition alongside a group of guild members uncovered an ancient temple of dragon worshipers where engravings detailed the practices of draconic priests. It was there he regained his firebreath.
ENTANGLING EXHALATION
ENTANGLING EXHALATION [BREATH]
You can use your breath weapon to create an entangling
mesh of energy.
Prerequisites: Dragonblood subtype, breath weapon.
Benefi t: When you use your breath weapon, you can
choose to enmesh all creatures in its area instead of producing
its normal effect. Your breath weapon deals only
half its normal damage; however, any creature that takes
damage from your breath weapon becomes entangled and
takes an extra 1d6 points of damage, of the same energy
type as normally dealt by your breath weapon, each round
at the start of your turn. This effect lasts for 1d4 rounds.
If your breath weapon doesn’t deal energy damage,
creatures damaged by the initial breath are still entangled
but don’t take additional damage on later rounds.
Invocation Details
Endure Exposure - Endure Elements with a touch, duration 24 hours, also immune to your breath effects (so I don't hurt my allies) Magical Insight - Use Detect Magic at will, can use Identify with no components required, ends effect, 24 hour duration (unless used to identify) Draconic Knowledge - +6 knowledge & Spellcraft checks, can use knowledge checks untrained; 24 hour duration Voidsense - Gain Blindsense 30', 24 hour duration
[sblock=Item Bios] Armour & Shield
Last edited by renau1g; 11th May 2009 at 09:20 PM..
* = check penalty for wearing armor
Know Planes >=5 ranks gives +2 on survival checks on other planes.
prepared spells
Zero-level Evoker spells: 5 (4+1 evo) per day
Detect magic, Detect poison, Touch of Fatigue, flare, disrupt undead.
First-level Evoker spells: 5 (3+1 evo +1) per day Mage armor, Mage armor, Ray of Enfeeblement, Magic missile, Color spray.
Second-level Evoker spells: 5 (2+1+1 evo +1 extra slot) per day
Invisibility, Levitate, Levitate, fire burst, Lesser orb of acid (Enlarged)
Third-level Evoker spells: 3 (1+1 evo +1) per day
Scorching ray (Enlarged), Fireball, Fireball
SpellBook
0 level spells – all except resistance and daze.
1 level spells – Burning hands, Mage armor, Magic missile, Color spray, Ray of Enfeeblement, Expeditious retreat, Floating disk, Lesser orb of acid (CA), Lesser orb of electricity (CA).
2 level spells – Scorching ray, fire burst (CA), Invisibility, Levitate.
3 level spells – Fireball, Daylight.
Ares's Equipment
Light load: 26 lb. or less
Medium load: 27-53 lb.
Heavy load: 54-80 lb.
Lift over head: 80 lb.
Lift off ground: 160 lb.
Push or drag: 400 lb.
4 daggers - inside haversack
1 silver dagger, masterwork
Spellbook x1 (parchment with thin wood cover) – inside haversack
Outfit
Spell component pouch
Gloves of Dex. +2
Rod of lesser extend (extend spell 3/day) - 2/3
Ring of Sustenance (sleep 2 hours per day)
Handy Haversack
Hand of the mage (Mage hand at will)
Small box with ink and inkpen - inside haversack
Waterskin – inside haversack
Grinded bone in a small vial - inside haversack
Wealth: 224 coins
Total weight: 16 lb
Race and class traits
Tiefling:
• +2 dexterity, +2 intelligence, -2 charisma (already included)
• +2 on listen and spot checks (already included)
• Darkness 1 per day (1/1)
• Darkvision (see 60 feet in pitch-dark)
• Cold, fire, & electricity resistance 5
• "Native outsider."
• Level adjustment +1
Wizard (Evoker):
• Familiar / Alertness, etc.
• Bonus Feats (already included)
• High intelligence gains bonus spells daily
• Specialist gets 1 extra evocation spell/level/day
Background + Appearance
Size: Medium
Height: 1.70m
Weight: 65 kg
Skin: Silver
Eyes: Black
Hair: Red, beardless
Ares's mother was a witch that made a pact with Fraz-Urb'luu, the demon prince of Deception and he made her impregnate using one of his servants.
10 years she kept the pact in secret until the town's folk found it out. For that, she was placed on the stake and was burned alive. Ares fled to the forest and became a wild mage. He gathered power of evocation during the years and finally unleashed his destructive power upon the villagers with revenge. Knowing that the master of the land is the one who commanded the witch hunt, it is time to revenge the master.
__________________
Spoiler:
Zirat Igruf, Gladiator (Rhun's ToEE): OOC ; IC ; RG
Ryan is 25 years old, 6' tall, blonde, and muscular though not particularly handsome of face.
He knew he could go into wizardry, but he also had the altheticism that would allow him to become a fine warrior. His teachers saw this as well, and allowed him to train in a way that combined both pursuits. Despite his deadly training, he prefers to use force only when necessary.
He served as a member of the City Watch of Dzoria for a while. While a poor street officer, he was quite useful as backup, and was brought along whenever the other watchmen expected to run into a problem they couldn't handle. Eventually he gave in to his wanderlust and sought other adventures.
He later spent some time living in the Kingdom of Korador among the dwarves there, and eventually developed the ability to give himself darkvision so as to better fit in among them. It was in the Felldark Hills there that he fought some evil spirits (shadows), and with the help of the dwarves he obtained an armor crystal to help ward off the spirits' attacks.
People who don't know him may be surprised to see the deadly fighter play a tune on his mandolin. He believes that music is a necessary complement to his more martial activities, since it has the power to bring people together, helping to heal rifts that might otherwise erupt into violence.
stats
score/pts, bonus; 32 pts
str (18 w/goop + level-up) 15/8, +4
dex 16/10, +3
con 12/4, +1
int 14/6, +2
wis 10/2, +0
cha 10/2, +0
hp 8+5d8+6 = 44
BAB +6, grapple +10, saves Fort +7, Reflex +6, Will +8; move 20'
AC 21 (+6 armor, +1 deflection, +3 dex, +1 dodge), touch 15, ff 17; eff 20 vs. incorporeal touch
Feats: dodge, power attack, combat casting[b], weapon focus (greatsword), iron will
att greatsword (2 hands) +12/+7 melee (2d6+7, crit 19/x2)
with shocking grasp (w/ att as std action): +5d6 electric
with true strike + full power attack: +26/+1 melee (2d6+19, crit 19/x2)
w/TS + PA + fighting defensively (+2 to AC): +22/-3 melee (2d6+19, crit 19/x2)
Spells Per Day (DC 12 + spell level)
0th 6, 1st 7, 2nd 3
Spells known: 2 0th, 5 1st, 2 2nd
0: disrupt undead (1d6 vs undead, 40' ray), touch of fatigue (-2 str & dex, 1 rnd/lev, Fort neg)
1: chill touch (1 rnd/lev, 1d6 cold + 1 str (Fort neg str); or undead flee 1d4+1/lev rounds (Will neg)), Kelgore's fire bolt (5d6, 160', Reflex half, 1d6 ignores SR), shocking grasp (5d6 touch, +3 att vs metal), resist energy (10 min/lev, specified energy, resist 10), true strike
2: darkvision (60', 6 hr), swift invisibility (swift action, 1 round or until attack)
Arcane Attunement: Able to cast the following as Spell-like Abilities: Dancing Lights, Detect Magic, Flare, Ghost Sound, & Read Magic. Castable 5/day total. Does not count against the normal spell per day.
Armored Mage (medium armor & shield): ignore ASF%
Arcane Channeling (standard attack): As a Standard Attack, a Duskblade may cast a ‘touch attack’ spell and deliver the spell through a melee weapon attack. This action does not provoke an Attack of Opportunity. The spell’s casting time must be no more than 1 Standard Action.
Quick Cast, 1/day: The Duskblade may reduce the cast time of 1 spell per day to 1 Swift Action. The spell must have a casting time of 1 Standard Action.
Spell Power +2: If a Duskblade has injured an opponent in melee the current battle, he/she receives a +2 bonus on checks to overcome the Spell Resistance of that creature for the duration of the encounter.
Equipment:
+1 Koradian breastplate armor (+6 armor bonus, max dex 3, move 20', acp -5) 1700 sp
ring of protection +1, 2k
armor crystal of screening, lesser (incorporeal touch attacks are at -5), MIC, 1k
boots of landing (take 2 less d6 of falling damage and land on feet), MIC, 0.5k
vest of resistance +1, 1k
Equipment: 13,000
+1(Both ends) Darkwood Quarterstaff (4,640)
Gloves of Dexterity+2 (4,000)
+1 Koradian Mithril Shirt(2,700)
Boots of Landing (500): Take 2d6 less falling damage and land on feet.
Name: Donner
Class: Cleric 5/Stormlord 1
Race: Human
Size: Medium
Gender: Male
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Deity: Bahari
Str: 16 +3 Level: 5/1 XP: 15,000
Dex: 15 +2 BAB: +3 HP: 44 (6d8+6)
Con: 12 +1 Grapple: +6 Dmg Red: Eletricity 5
Int: 12 +1 Speed: 20' Spell Res:Wis: 16 +3 Init: +2 Spell Save: +3
Cha: 10 +0 ACP: -3
Base Armor Shld Dex Size Nat Misc TotalArmor: 10 +7 +1 +2 +0 +0 +0 20Touch: 12 Flatfooted: 18
Base Mod Misc TotalFort: 6 +1 +3 +10
Ref: 1 +2 +1 +4
Will: 6 +3 +1 +10
Weapon Attack Damage Critical
+1 Longspear +7 1d8+5 20x3
+1 Javelin (thrown) +6 1d6+4 20x2
Languages: Common, Auran, Aquan
Abilities:
Proficient in all armor, and all shields(except tower shields)
• Proficient with all simple weapons.
• Restricted Spells: cannot cast Lawful or Evil spells.
• Turn Undead(Su): Can turn undead 3 times per day. A turning check
is made on 1d20+2; turning damage is equal to 2d6+5 on a successful check.
• Domains:
¤ Water: You can: turn or destroy fire creatures; rebuke, command,
or bolster water creatures 3 times per day as a Supernatural Ability.
¤ Weather: Your vision is unobstructed by nonmagical weather
conditions. Add Survival to your list of cleric class skills. You
gain a +2 bonus on all weather related Survival checks.
• Enhanced Javelins: Any javelin thrown by you counts as a +1 magic weapon.
• Electricity Resistance(Ex): You gain Electricity Resistance 5.
Feats:
• Endurance (PH 93) : +4 bonus on checks or saves to resist nonlethal
damage.
• Great Fortitude (PH 94) : +2 bonus on Fortitude saves.
• Weapon Focus (PH 102) (Longspear) : +1 bonus on attack rolls with
selected weapon.
• Improved Buckler Defense (CW 100) : Apply buckler's shield bonus
to AC while using off-hand weapon.
Skill Points: 36
Skills Ranks Mod Misc Total
Appraise +1 +1
Balance +2 -3 -1
Bluff 0 0
Climb +3 -3 0
Concentration 9 +1 +10
Diplomacy 0
Disguise 0
Escape Artist +2 -3 -1
Forgery +1 +1
Gather Information 0
Heal 2 +3 +5
Hide +2 -3 -1
Intimidate 2 +3 +5
Jump +3 -9 -6
Knowledge (Arcana) 2 +1 +3
Knowledge (Religion) 9 +1 +10
Listen +3 +3
Move Silently +2 -3 -1
Ride +2 +2
Search +1 +1
Sense Motive +3 +3
Speak Language 1
Spot +3 +3
Survival 8 +3 +11
Swim 1 +3 -6 -2
Use Rope +2 +2
Equipment: Weight
Quiver of Ehlonna 2 lb
- 10 Javelins
Waterskin 4 lb
Handy Haversack 5 lb
-Cleric Vestments
-Cold Weather outfit
-Blanket, winter
-Everburning torch
-Wooden Holy Symbol
Travler's outfit wearing
Wooden Holy Symbol *
Wand of CLW (50 charges) *
Longspear +1 9 lb
+2 Breastplate 30 lb
Msw Buckler 5 lb
Gauntlets of Ogre Power 2 lb
Cloak of Resistance +1 1 lb
Total Weight:58lb Money: 0gp 0sp 5cp
Lgt Med Hvy Lift PushMax Weight: 76 153 230 460 1150
Age: 26
Height: 5'2"
Weight: 130lb
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Skunk
Skin: Weathered
Apperance:
5'2, 135 lb human who has seen better days. He has bland brown eyes but skunk colored hair, mostly black with a white streak down the middle. Donner is quite dishoveled and always a bit tipsy. His skin is tough and leathery, but has no scars. Donner knows his place in the world and with his god, but he may not know where he is currently. He wears dulled breast plate that appears to have algae growing off of it, yet it doesn't not dent or mark when struck. On his forearm is a buckler with the trident symbol of Bahari. He arms himself with a longspear, a quiever full of javelins and the trident pendent of the Wavelord.
Background OOC
Wolfgang* Donner’s early life is typical of most of his adventure kin. His father died while serving his nation in the most resent war. His mother became so depressed from the heart break that she killed herself one night during a drunken stupor. But these are not the events that changed Donner life, for he could not control how wars are fought or the emotions of a loved one. It was that one night the scarred him so . . .
A young Donner peeked through the boards of the closet door as thunder shakes the world. His sister, Bri, dashes to hold the door shut, but the monsters kick it open into her face. She falls, crying. The dark figures move through the room, the storm masking their footfalls. They spread about, but touch nothing. Donner held his breath, but the figures do not open the closet door.
The night is blocked out as a massive figure stands in the doorway, a figure of blackness and shadows. It ducks through the doorway as it enters and stands over Bri. Donner’s nails dig a bloody gouge into his thigh as he makes promises to himself, “You will not scream, you will not scream.” Lightening flashes, bathing the room in bright light, and then Donner sees its face. It has the face of a tiger, and its eyes are looking right into his.
Donner still awakes in the middle of the night, beaded with sweat from the emotional event. It is because of these dreams and the loss of his family, Donner has taken up his mother’s depression and inability to work in society. He became a broke and bitter man. He would drown his sorrows in drink and whores nightly. After one such rebellious night, Donner woke up finding himself atop a cliff as a lightning storm erupted overhead. Donner had a headache so painful that he though the waves of thunder themselves pounded through his brain. Not able to tolerate the pain, he let loose a feral yell and ran for the cliff’s edge. Just as he was about to jump, a bolt of lightning came down from the heavens and struck Donner in the head. He fell unconscious only inches from the death below. When Donner awoke it was in small a stone room with an altar and a basin of salt water for offerings. A mosaic of the symbol of Bahari, a trident over a cresting wave, is set into the back wall. A grizzled old man with wiry muscles greeted him at the foot of his bed while preparing a salve. The priest takes a long look at Donner with his good piercing green eye, while the other is covered with a patch that is embroidered with the seal of Bahari. “It appears the Wave Lord has other plans for you, but he has a funny way of showing it. But besides a skull-ache, Bahari has left his mark upon you. It is a blessing.” The old priest, Drichten, points to a near by for Donner to see a bright white streak of hair cut across his black mane like a thunderbolt piercing darkened clouds. Drichten took Donner as an apprentice until it was mutually agreed that there was nothing else he could be taught and that he needed to travel out on his own. He has been apart of many wolf-packs of adventurers over the years without much direction except for sustaining life and getting his fill of ale. In the back of his mind, there is one destiny he secretly wishes to fulfill but is afraid to do so. He hopes one day he can track down that tiger-faced demon and look into its eyes to discover while it hunted his family that night so long ago.
*He only goes by the name of Donner. Only his family knew of his name as Wolfgang. Donner doesn’t talk about his dreams or his past at all (something may slip during a drunken fit), but it is obvious that something does haunt him while he sleeps.
Class Abilities and level:
Dabble: Prophecy, White Magic
Vulnerability: Cold Iron
Trackless step
Bewitch (1/day)
Gentle Touch (Heal 12 HP per day as Lay on Hands)
Dabble Info:
White Magic: White Magic is the magic of light and life, goodness and beauty, and is dabbled in exclusively by Good witches. Power: Gentle Touch: The witch can heal 2 hit points per level per day; otherwise as a paladin’s Lay on Hands ability. Spells: 0 disrupt undead, 1 bless, 2 calm emotions, 3 daylight, 4 primal lightning [d294], 5 dispel evil, 6 heal, 7 sunbeam, 8 crown of glory [BoXD], 9 prismatic sphere.
Prophecy: Some witches uncover their third eye, gaining insight into truth and possibility. Only Nonchaotic witches dabble in Prophecy. Power: The witch can take the Fortunetelling feat for free or select two of the following as class skills: Decipher Script, Listen, Sense Motive, or Spot. Spells: 0 guidance, 1 true strike, 2 detect thoughts, 3 clairvoyance/clairaudience, 4 divination, 5 true seeing, 6 mass owl’s wisdom, 7 vision, 8 moment of prescience, 9 foresight.
[Background] [Witch]
Due to some form of magical heritage, you can dabble in an additional arcane Art.
Prerequisites: Witch level 1, Dabble class feature, Familiar class feature.
Benefit: You may Dabble in an additional Art that your alignment allows. You gain the granted power and add the listed spells as bonus Spells Known.
Special: You may only take this feat as a 1st-level witch. Taking this feat replaces your ability to call a Familiar. You may only dabble in a maximum number of Arts equal to your Charisma modifier –1.
FORTUNETELLING
Spoiler:
[General]
Whether by second sight, omen interpretation, tarot, or some other means, you can predict the future.
Prerequisites: Wisdom 13, Ability to cast arcane spells.
Benefits: Once per day, you can effect an augury, as the spell cast by a cleric of your caster level. This spell-like ability takes 1 full minute.
CHARMED ARCHERY
Spoiler:
[Fighter] [General]
You magically influence your missile’s path.
Prerequisites: Charisma 13, Ability to cast 1st-level arcane spells, BAB +1.
Benefit: You may use your Charisma modifier instead or your Dexterity modifier on all ranged attack rolls. Using Charmed Archery is a supernatural ability.
BROOMSTICK
Spoiler:
[Item Creation]
You can enchant a normal broom to fly.
Prerequisites: Witch level 5.
Benefit: Once per day, your touch imbues a nonmagical broomstick with the power of flight. The broom functions as a broom of flying for 24 hours, obeying only your commands. Using this feat is a spell-like ability that incurs none of the costs normally associated with Item Creation. Enchanting a specific brooms costs 100xp, but subsequent enchantments on the same broom incur no additional cost.
This broom is able to fly through the air as if affected by an overland flight spell (average maneuverability) for up to 9 hours per day (split up as its owner desires). The broom can carry 200 pounds and fly at a speed of 40 feet, or up to 400 pounds at a speed at 30 feet. In addition, the broom can travel alone to any destination named by the owner as long as she has a good idea of the location and layout of that destination. It comes to its owner from as far away as 300 yards when she speaks the command word. The broom of flying has a speed of 40 feet when it has no rider.
Esmerelda was born to the coven which her sister and mother were born, her grandmother and her grandmother’s mother before her. In fact, there was no record of there ever being any other history for her family but belonging to one of the oldest covens in the land.
She was raised by the women of the coven, never knowing who her father was. Not many men lived with the coven; warlocks were more known for wandering and uninterested in the bonds of family or settling down. This was not uncommon and she never really considered or worried over who her father was. There was a reason for things being this way and she wouldn’t question it.
She had a happy childhood, along with her sister, learning the ways of the world and how to be harmonious in it. Nature and neutrality was taught early though it was obvious that Esme leaned more towards seeing the good in things than being neutral. She was a quick learner and took easily to the potion making her sisters were famous for. Usually a witch could make a living off selling her potions if she wanted to so it was an excellent skill to have. She was also very proficient at healing and her spells seemed to tend towards healing and helping, not hurting (though her mother insisted not everyone in the world was good and that her girls should always be prepared so she taught them the way of the bow). She also received the gift of the third eye, visions of the past and things to come. They came through reading of cards or dreams or sometimes she just had an eerie feeling about someone or events. It was said that their powers came from unions between humans and fey in the past and her particular magics seemed to be evidence of this.
When they were younger, Esme and her sister Estella were cornered by local boys in the nearby village. The boys were teasing but one of them had taken his father’s dagger and pricked Esme with it, unaware that it was made of cold iron. Esme immediately fell to the ground in a cold sweat, violently trembling as her eyes rolled back in her head. Her sister ran to fetch her mother as she lie there alone, dying. Pasts and futures ran through her mind, a jumble of information and ideas as her life drained away from that one tiny prick of a piece of metal. So it was that her vulnerability, something all witches possess, was revealed. It took all the powers of her coven to revive her and it took months before she fully recovered. Having been so young to go through such an ordeal it left her scarred for life; some of her strength had permanently left her.
It was said you could not fully know your powers until you knew yourself and the girl knew she needed to help others to find herself. She had grown into a stunning, charming young maiden and it was time to leave the coven. So Esme had left the comfort of her home and family to experience the world. She found a small cottage that she purchased from an old woman, staying to help that woman pass into the next world before taking it as her own. There she tended to the people in the woods and any who needed her help. She sold potions and told fortunes to the rich so she could freely help the poor.
The mayor of the nearby town had been corrupt for some time. He devised a scheme in which he blamed Esme for the town’s troubles. He sent a bounty hunter, who the mayor had lied to about her, out after her. He kicked down her door and insisted she turn herself in. They fought and she enspelled him and sent him away. He quickly returned where more battle ensued.
Then he said his name, Kyranvik Vondestrok. She had done a reading for herself just the past week, one which had confused her like no other reading ever had. But his name revealed all, this warrior before her was fated to be tied to her own destiny as told by the cards. She went with him willingly where he led her to town, to the greedy, corrupt mayor and to what seemed like her doom as he enthusiastically sentenced her to burn at the stake. It was hard for her to stay confident in her reading as the smoke burned her eyes and filled her lungs and her head became light. It was as if a dream when Ky stepped through the fire to save her.
The next weeks seemed to fly by. He stayed with her to make up for his accidental wrongdoing and Esme was shocked at the comfort between them, as if they always were meant to be part of each other’s life. More than once she imagined The Lover card that had come up in her reading as she watched him work, wondering if this man would ever fill that role. But since she was biased in knowing this, she would not push fate; she would have to let it come to her.
She foresaw his decision to move on and planned for it, calling her sister to take over her cottage and her duties. When it was time she insisted she would join him and he put up no argument at all. Just six short weeks have passed since their destined meeting.
Description:
At first glance, Esme appears to be a charming young maiden, though her demeanor is one of someone seemingly much older. She stands tall and proud, with all the curves a woman should have. Her long raven black hair curls down her back and often seems as if it is blowing around her face on a breeze even if there is none to be felt. Every movement is graceful, sometimes seeming otherworldly even. The first feature many are attracted to is her striking blue eyes, not just for their color but for the deep knowingness contained within. Her full lips frequently speak shocking truths known only in the deepest reaches of a person’s heart or pasts that should be kept hidden and many hope for or fear futures predicted. For those she protects, she has an easy way of making people trust her and putting them at ease – they see her as a friend, kindly and caring. She is fiercely loyal to those she cares about and has no qualms doing what is necessary to make sure they are taken care of. She is also quite feisty and has a bite that someone crossing her perceived boundaries will soon regret.
Class Abilities and level:
PsyWar Powers
Feats:
Aggressive Combat Instinct*, Defensive Combat Instinct*, Psionic Body, Psionic Talent, Improved Psionic Talent, Bodily Reservoir, Psionic Weapon, Metapsychic Weapon
Skills:
Autohypnosis: +13 total (+9 ranks, +2 ability modifier+ 2 synergy).
Climb: +6 total (+2 ranks, +4 ability modifier)
Concentration: +11 total (+9 ranks, +2 ability modifier).
Jump: +6 total ( +2 ranks, +4 ability modifier)
Listen +2 total (+0 ranks, +2 ability modifier).
Ride +4 total (+3 ranks, + 1 ability modifier).
Spot: +2 total (+0 ranks, + 2 ability modifier).
Swim: +6 total (+2 ranks, +4 ability modifier).
Possessions: Koradian Full Plate +2 (6,150 sp), Greatsword +1 (2,350 sp), Cloak of Resistance +1 (1,000 sp), Ring of Protection +1 (2,000 sp), MW Comp Long Bow (+4 Str) (800 sp), MW Heavy Flail, Dagger x2, . Backpack, Quiver w/20 arrows, water skin, explorer's outift x2, 50 ft. rope, 6 pints of oil, flint and steel, lantern, 10 sunrods. Emerald worth 100 sp. Opal worth 75 sp. Amythest worth 50 sp. Garnet worth 40 sp.
71 sp
*When Psionically Focused
† When Full Attacking
‡ When Expending Psionic Focus
Appearance
Appearance: Kyranvik is a large, muscular man. His brown hair is cut short above a weathered face. Kyranvik is introspective, and stoic. He can appear cold for this reason. But those who know him well, know that he is merely observing the world around him.
Background
Background: Kyranvik was born in the far eastern province of Kafirika. The son of a well to do merchant in the city of Linak, Kyrnavik was born into a comfortable life. He was educated though he did not enjoy learning from books. He would rather run and wrestle with the other boys. Kyranvik also showed little interest in his father’s business or business in general. He was a large boy and quite active so, on his fifteenth birthday he headed down with other boys of his age to try out for the city guard. He was seen to have a physical gift and was soon training with weapons with other young men who wished to join the guard. After a year of training the recruits were nearly ready to start their stints as guards. Then one day they lined all the boys up in the training field. A wizened old man came into view, followed by a large man in plate armor. The man in the armor had a martial bearing that even the city guards did not have. He addressed the boys. “This is The Archmaster Ygg. He will inspect you to determine if any of you have the gift of Dalhkan” Kyranvik had heard of Dahlkan, it was a supposedly ancient art of using your mind to do things, fight better, know things. But it was a whispered legacy of an ancient warrior. No one he knew had ever had the gift of Dahlkan. Yet here was this old man, walking down the line, staring at each boy. He pulled a few out of line, but not many. When Ygg got to him, Kyranvik felt like he was staring through him, around him. But as he did so, Kyranik felt a stirring in his mind, an awakening, things seemed possible and for a brief moment he saw a powerful glowing aura around the old man. Archmaster Ygg smiled then and pulled him out of line. Kyranvik was taken with the other boys out to a castle far in the woods. There he continued his training in weapons, but the real training was on Dalhkan. Through the training there Kyranvik learned to use his mind to affect the world around him. He was trained to be part of an elite fighting force that served the king, as they had for centuries. He became an efficient fighter using the powers of Dahlkan to aid his fighting.
Kyranvik became a very apt pupil and excelled in his training. He was destined to be a great member of the Royal Servants of Dalhkan. But, something else had awoken inside Kryanvik as well, a desire to see the world. So after a few years of serving the king, he asked to resign his post. Kyranvik spent the next few years wandering around. He had a strong sense of justice and often made some money by acting as a bounty hunter, bringing criminals in for trial. Thus he came one day to a village named Rustgurt. There the mayor found him in a tavern, and noticing the plate armor took him for a fighting man. He approached Kyranvik telling him about an evil witch who lived out in the forest. This witch was plaguing the village. The mayor explained that she was causing milk to turn sour, her evil birds were stealing money from the town and she had even stolen a child to raise in her evil ways. Horrified, Kyranvik set out to find this witch and bring her to justice.
So Kyranvik followed the path to find the witch the whole village was afraid of. He soon found her small cottage in a small clearing deep in the woods. He called upon his own powers of Dahlkan to fortify himself as he strode up to the door and banged on it with the hilt of his sword. A startled cry met his ears and the door opened. Kyranvik was taken aback. For before him was no wizened crone, but a stunningly beautiful woman. Kyranvik shook himself telling himself it was some fell spell that rendered her so young in order to trick him. “Are you Esmerelda the witch who has been inflicting your evil spells upon the good village of Rustgurt?” he demanded at last. Esmerelda cocked her hips as she stared at this man. “Oh and who told you that hmmm sword boy? The mayor I suppose?” she answered. Kyranvik was ready for a denial, or pleading, but not this. More clever trickery from this foul woman. “Surrender witch! And be brought to justice!” he cried. Whereupon Esmerelda slammed the door in his face.
This was tantamount to a challenge and a she had not answered the charges. Kyranvik kicked open the door. “Witch, I demand your surrender!” he shouted. “Why of course” she replied with a sweet smile as she reached out to take his hand. Suddenly Kyranvik felt the anger leave him. He looked about the little cottage and decided she wasn’t a witch and he apologized. He made his way back to the village in high spirits. He found the mayor and told him the woman was no threat to the village as she was not a witch. The mayor started shouting at Kyranvik “You fool, she has bewitched you! Brought you under her foul spells.” Kyranvik was ashamed and outraged. He stalked off to the woods determined to bring the witch back with him.
He approached the cottage and broke the door down without warning this time. But the wtich was not inside. Searching for her he emerged to find her in the woods as she betwitched the plants around him to snare him, holding him down. “Ha, so you dared come back? And why do you seek me armored man?” Kyranvik struggled against the vines holding him in place. He summoned the power of Dhalkan as he focused him mind as his body grew in size and he tore through the restraining vines.
Esmerelda conjured up a spell as storm clouds swirled overhead. She called down a bolt of lightning that struck Kyranvik square in the chest. He grimaced in pain but continued to tear through vines to get to her. “You picked the wrong woman to harass today sword boy”
Kyranvik tore through the last vines as he charged towards her. “My name is Kyranvik Vondestrok and I have not traveled from Kafirika to fall to the witchcraft of you” he cried out as he swung his sword at her. Esmerlda nimbly dodged the blow and called down another bolt of lightning to strike Kyranvik, hitting him in the leg. The warrior was looking bad. Suddenly she stood stock still for a moment, a wave a realization coming over her. As Kyranvik mustered himself to attack again she dropped her hands, the cloud over head dissipated in a gust of wind and she said quietly “Then I surrender to you Kyranvik Vondestrok of eastern Kafirika.”
Kyranvik stood puzzled at this sudden change expecting some form of trickery. But Esmerleda offered no tricks, nor resistance as he tied her hands and lead her back to the village.
The previous week, Esmerelda had been doing a tarot reading for herself. The cards came up High Priestess, The Sun, The Star, The Knight of Swords, Judgement, The Lovers. This was a very confusing reading for Esmerelda. And she left it on the table for two days. But from the position she knew the High Priestess was herself. The Knight of Swords represented violence ahead. The Sun meant the east. She was not sure what the star represented. Judgement was obvious, since she put up with that fool of a mayor and his supposed judgements against her. The Lovers was interesting. Never had that card come up for her personally before. And that made her curious. So when the man with the sword showed up, in the back of her mind she thought of the tarot reading and supposed this was the Knight of Swords. But she was a little more focused on getting rid of him. Once he left, she went back to that reading, looking at it once more. The Star and the Lovers. What did that mean if he was the Knight of Swords? She wondered to herself. She heard him approaching the second time and snuck around the cottage to gain the advantage on him. But once he said his name, a thunderclap went off onside her head. He was from the east, The Sun card. His name, the ending of –vik meant star. HE was the star from the east, the Knight of Swords. He had come to bring her to Judgement. But did that mean the Lovers card meant him as well? These thoughts went through her mind in a heartbeat. Her fortune had again come true, though it had taken her a while to understand it. But once she did, she surrendered. You could tempt Fate, but you could not hide from it.
On the long walk back though she did try to talk to him find out why he had come. When she found out the mayor had ordered this, she tried to explain the mayor was corrupt, stealing from his own people, using her as a scapegoat. That he was an evil man and she tried to help the poor people who lived in the woods, farmers, woodcutter and hunters. She offered no resistance to being led, just talking to this man. Trying to tell him the truth that it was not she who was lying to him. Kyranvik made no attempt to silence the witch but neither was he swayed by her words.
Kyranvik presented the downcast Esmerelda to the gleeful mayor who declared that there would be a trial at once and if she was found guilt she would be burned at the stake. Kyranvik collected his reward and moved on. For some reason he was bothered by Esmerelda’s surrender. It was so sudden and she was certainly giving him all he could take. And her words about the mayor bothered him as well. He was thinking on these things as he walked out of town. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going when he came across a familiar clearing with a cottage. He was at the witch’s cottage. There he saw an old woman sitting on the bench next to the door. He approached her. “Are you waiting for the woman who lives here?” he asked. “Yes. My granddaughter is sick and Esmerelda always makes the best potions to cure what ever ails us. She cured my son when he had the pox fever five winters ago as well.” The old lady sighed “I don’t know what we forest folk would do without her”
Now Kyranvik was really confused and sat down beside the old woman. “So tell me what else this woman who lives here does?” he asked. The old woman smiled. “Well she helps us find roots and berries to eat when times are lean. Like when that crooked mayor raises his taxes every so often. And you know what we get for those taxes? Nothing, but he seems to always have some new coach or horse. But Esmerelda is always here to help us. And she never asks for anything in return. I brought her a chicken as payment, but I will have to make her take it” the old woman added with a smile and a wink.
Kyranvik placed his head in his hands. He had been duped by the mayor. And that beautiful woman was to be burned at the stake. What made matter worse was that it seemed she really helped people. Kyranvik was still confused as to why she surrendered, if he was innocent he would fight back. But if she fought back he would have thought her guilty. Still he knew what had to be done. “Esmerelda is not here right now Grandmother, but look for her tomorrow.” He said reassuringly. Kyranvik then got up and headed back into town. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he knew what had to be done.
Kyranvik got back into town just in time to see the “trial” let out, with an obvious guilty verdict. The pyre was already built in the town square, the stake at the middle. The mayor was leading Esmerelda out in chains, a giant smile on his face. Kyranvik had an idea, these were superstitious people in this village, and not too bright if they believed the mayor. Maybe he could capitalize on that.
Kyranvik hid behind a building as the execution began. The mayor made some long speech about how now the evil would be lifted from their village and prosperity would return. Kyranvik rolled his eyes. He waited though until the fire had started. Then using Dahlkan he made himself large again, the size of an orge as he strode out into the crowd in his full plate, his sword out. The crowd gasped and parted for him as he walked up to the burning pyre. He walked straight into the fire as the crowd screamed. It wasn’t as bad as it looked, the outside was burning, but the interior was just starting to smoulder. Kyranvik focused his mind and ignored the pain. He cut the bindings on Esmerelda and picked her up in his arms. He stood there in the pyre, a giant, the fire burning all around him seemingly unhurt. He addressed the villagers in a loud voice. “I have come to right the wrongs of the village. This woman is innocent of the charges the mayor has brought against her. He is deceiving you. He is stealing from you and he blames this poor woman for your troubles, when in truth all the troubles of this village arise from him.” The villagers were in shock. Here before them seemed some all powerful being who was 10 feet tall and was impervious to fire. His words carried the weight of supernatural authority to these people. Kyranvik seemed to touch on some unspoken discontent and suspicions as the crowd began to murmur and the noise grew louder as the crowd grew restless. Esmerelda grabbed onto Kyranvik’s neck tightly, burying her face in his shoulder. The smoke and the heat were terrible and she had no idea how this man could stand there in the fire and not be bothered by it. She was glad he had come, she was begining to doubt her trust in the tarot, but obviously, her prophecy was correct. As the crowd surged towards the mayor who tried in vain to clam them down, Kyranvik stepped out of the fire and strode back into the forest. Once safely in the forest Esmerelda brought her head up and breathed fresh clean air but kept her arms around his neck. “Not bad sword boy.” She said. Kyranvik grinned. “It’s what I do.” He replied. Looking down she saw that his boots were still smoking and his leg greaves were dark with smoke. “How did you do that anyway? And why did you come back? You didn’t seem to believe me before”. Kyranvik thought for a moment. “Well, I had a talk with one of your patients in the forest who helped convince me that your were not the person I had been told you were. Though, I still can’t figure out why you surrendered to me.” Esmerelda smiled to herself and laid her head on his shoulder.
Kyranvik stayed with Esmerelda for several weeks after that. She was still sick from the smoke and needed help. And she refused to rest as a steady stream of those who depended on her came by to ask for potions and healing, but also to check on her after they heard what had happened. Kyranvik chopped wood and carried things for people and helped out as he could. The village had lynched the mayor and tossed him onto the pyre of his own making, and so some village people were now coming into the forest as well. Kyranvik after a while told Esmerelda he was moving on, that she was healed up and he had atoned for his mistake. Esmerelda smiled at him “I know Ky, that is why I am coming with you”. Kyranvik was taken aback “What? But what about all these people here who need you?” he asked. “Oh I know and that is why my sister is coming to take my place here and look after these people. Our fate lies together Ky, I know this.” She said with a mysterious smile and a firm set to her face.
Kyranivk had learned in the past few weeks to not argue with Esmerelda when she had that look and especially not to argue about tarot or fate. He had seen her do her tarot cards with chilling accuracy over the past few weeks. But then again, Esmerelda was a stunningly beautiful woman and he had grown quite fond of her the last few weeks and the company, especially of a beautiful woman, would be welcome.
Linear Mode
And yet another word from our sponsors
