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Thread: The Game of Kings - Characters
Sunday, 2nd July, 2006, 07:41 AM #1
Novice (Lvl 1)
The Game of Kings - Characters
This page is for reference for players and DMs of The Game of Kings. Since we plan to use this page as our guide when adjucating combat and other mechanics, we'd like all discussion to go in the OOC thread.
Once we've proofread your sheet in that thread, post it here. If it needs modification, don't repost a new version of it; just edit your old one. This will make it easier for us to find statistics and background information on our PCs.
Sunday, 2nd July, 2006, 10:16 AM #2
Acolyte (Lvl 2)
Name: Carver "Banderelli"
Class: Artificer 4
Hit Dice: 4d6+12, 33 HP
Speed: 20 ft
Armor Class: 20 (10 +8 armor +2 shield), Flatfooted: 20, Touch: 10
Base Attack Bonus: +3
Attacks: Morningstar (+6, 1d8+2, 20x2), or Dagger(10')(+6(4), 1d4+2, 19-20x2), or Light Crossbow (80')(+4,1d8,19-20x2)
Full Attack: Morningstar (+6, 1d8+2, 20x2), or Dagger(10')(+6(4), 1d4+2, 19-20x2), or Light Crossbow (80')(+4,1d8,19-20x2)
Special Qualities: Craft Pool: 6 XP, Warforged Traits, Damage Reduction 2/Adamantine, Artisan Bonus, Disable Trap, Item Creation, Artifacer Knowledge (5+3=8), Infuse Self, Tools of War
Special Attacks: None
Saves: Fort +3, Ref +2, Will +5
Abilities: Strength 14, Dexterity 10, Constitution 16, Intelligence 18, Wisdom 10, Charisma 12
Skills: Craft: Weaponsmith +13, Craft: Armorsmith +13, Craft: Boyer +13, Knowledge: Arcana +9, Use Magic Device +11(13), Spellcraft +12(14), Search +7, Disable Device +7, Craft: Woodworking +9
Feats: Adamantine Body, Scribe Scroll, Brew Potion, Extrordinary Artison, Craft Wonderous Item, Legendary Artisan
Action Points: 7
Languages: Common, Gnome
Alignment: Neutral Good
Eyes: Green (Usually)
Infusion Slots: 1st: 5, 2nd: 4
Adamantine Morningstar, Crafted (752 GP, 6 lb)
Dagger, MW Crafted (75 GP 5 SP, 1 lb)
Heavy Mithril Shield, Crafted (255 GP, 7.5 lb)
Light Crossbow, MW Crafted (83GP 7 SP 5 GP, 4 lb)
50 Bolts (1GP 2 SP 5 CP, 5 lb)
50 Bolts, Adamantine (751.25 GP, 5 lb)
Magical Interface Gloves (+3 UMD) (338 GP, 4th/14XP) (Component:Gloves)
Mental Upgrade Component (+2 Int) (1500 GP,4th/60XP) (Component:Headgear)
Cloak of resistance +1 (375 GP, 1 lb, 3rd/40XP)
Backpack (2 GP, 2 lb)
-Warforged Repair Kit (50 GP, 1 lb)
-Masterwork Artisan's Tools (55 GP, 5 lb)
--Cure Light (2) (50 GP, 2nd/4XP)
--Enlarge (25 GP, 2nd/2XP)
--Cure Moderate Wounds (2) (226 GP, 2nd/24XP)
--Repair Light Damage (2) (25 GP, 1st/1XP)
--Scroll of Spider Climb (57 GP, 1st/6 XP)
-Continual Flame Lamp (47 GP, 1 lb, 3rd/5XP)
Money: 70pp 31gp 2sp 5cp
Carver may look like an average Warforged, but there always seems to be something different about him. He doesn’t carry himself as most Warforged do, but more like a curious child. Carver is small for a Warforged and doesn’t cast a very imposing figure despite his adamantium body. He wears a finely made cloak, and most of his gear has a fine quality to it.
Carver is quite friendly, and generaly very trusting. He tends to bond with people who help him to answer questions as well as guide him. He is utterly curious, and at times seems more inocent than most young children, as well as completely clueless about many humanoid customs and interactions.
Carver was never really sure how he got to Port Verge. Bimbleburg Banderelli told Carver that he’d washed up on the shore, but Carver’s first memory was waking up in Bim’s (That what Carver preferred to call him) workshop. Bim tried to ask him questions while he examined Carver, but Carver didn’t know anything before waking up. Once Bim was sure there was no damage to Carver, he told Carver to stay in the workshop while he went to talk to someone. Carver stayed behind, and eventually picked up a small knife and a few blocks of wood and started carving. Bim had returned to find several small wooden blocks carved in various geometric shapes. Bim said “You’re a Carver all right; I think that’s a good name for you for now.” Carver never did get another name.
Bim was a local gnome artificer. He had worked for the nation of Cyre for a time, and had retired here in Port Verge well before the war had ended. Bim was familiar with Warforged, but found it strange that Carver seemed like a blank slate. Bim decided to try to “raise” him almost like a son. He opened the world to Carver, and showed him endless possibilities that he could do with his life, but Carver enjoyed crafting. He took amazingly well to weapons, armor, and alchemy, and would often carve figurines when he had idle time.
Bim told carver about the Warforged, the Last War, and how many were trained to be soldiers. Carver didn’t quite understand, having never seen another one like him, and the concept that he had been created and not born seemed strange. Carver began to study Bim’s notes on the Warforged, and began to look into the creation of magical objects and items with a renewed passion. Seeking to understand himself, he looked inside to find out what made him Carver. Bim trained Carver as an artificer, and as Bim became ill, Carver continued to work and help support Bim. Bim continued to teach Carver all he could beyond being an artificer as well. “You’ve been given a gift that perhaps no other Warforged has Carver,” Bim told him, “You’ve been allowed to be raised instead of trained. Make the most of it son.”
Carver was taken aback by being called son, but he had come to think of Bim as what he learned most of the godforged races (as Bim had described them to Carver) called a father. He felt honored to have this relationship with the gnome. Unfortunately, several days later, Bim died of his illness, or perhaps old age. Carver was not one to understand these things. However, he did find paperwork in Bim’s stuff showing that he had had a friend create a document stating that Carver had sailed to the port to work with him, and another document that stated the shop was Carvers if Bim fell ill. Bim had truly thought of Carver as a son.
Carver spent some time morning Bim’s death. He threw himself into his work, and kept himself busy. Carver never understood the exact operation of a business, so while he continued to craft items for customers, he never seemed to be making much. Carver didn’t care, as long as he was able to maintain the shop. However, this life alone became tedious for Carver, so he eventually sold the shop and went out to explore the world, in hopes of “Making the most of it” for his father.
In his travels, Carver has taken the Banderelli last name, much to the confusion of most people. Banderelli is a common gnome name.
Last edited by Bront; Thursday, 6th July, 2006 at 02:48 PM.
Monday, 3rd July, 2006, 08:12 PM #3
Enchanter (Lvl 12)
- Join Date
- Sep 2005
- Starkville, MS
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ø Block stonegod
Vhir, Kobold Manipulator
Class: Warlock 4
Hit Dice: 4d6+4, 21/22 HP
Speed: 30 ft
Armor Class: 21 (10 +5 armor +3 dex +1 natural +1 size +1 deflection), 15 touch, 18 flat-footed
Base Attack Bonus: +3
Attacks: Ranged Touch +7, mwk club -1 (1d4-3)
Full Attack: Ranged Touch +7, mwk club -1 (1d4-3)
Special Qualities: DR 1/byeshk*, darkvision 60 ft., deceive item, detect magic at will, flaw (noncombantant), kobold traits
Special Attacks: eldritch blast 2d6
Saves: Fort +2, Ref +4, Will +8
Abilities: Strength 4, Dexterity 16, Constitution 12, Intelligence 14, Wisdom 10, Charisma 18
Skills: Bluff +17, Concentration +7, Diplomacy +12 (+13 in glammerweave), Intimidate +19 (+15 vs. Medium size), Hide +7, Knowledge (arcana) +3, Knowledge (the planes) +3, Search +4, Spellcraft +3 (+5 for scrolls), Sense Motive +6, Use Magic Device +10
Feats: Ability Focus (voice of madness) [Flaw bonus], Force of Personality [1st], Sudden Still [3rd]
Action Points: 7
Languages: Draconic, Common, Undercommon
Alignment: Neutral Evil (Eberron-style)
Deity: None (respects the Progenitor Dragons)
Height: 2 ft.
Weight: 35 lbs
Lesser Invocations Known: beguiling influence, summon swarm, voice of madness* (DC 18, 3 rounds)
* Vhir currently uses the Khyber-tained warlock modifications from Dragon 332; it changes the DR from cold iron to byeshk and introduces the voice of maddness invocation. Voice of madness replicates lesser confusion, but with a duration of 1 round + 1 round/2 levels.
mwk darkwood club/walking-stick w/ small Eberron-shard (300 gp, 0.75 lbs)
+1 mithral shirt (2250 gp, 6 lbs)
ring of protection +1 (2000 gp)
shaders (1 sp)
4 potions of cure light wounds (200 gp)
2 oils of shillelagh (100 gp)
identification papers (portrait, 25 gp)
glammerweave courtier's outfit (135 gp)
belt pouch (1 gp, 0.126 lbs)
traveler's outfit (1.25 lbs)
letter of credit for 364 gp
Copy of several Korrenberg Chronicles and Sharn Inquisitives
25 gp (0.5 lbs)
9.4 lbs, light load (9.75 lbs medium, 19.5 lbs heavy, 30 lbs max)
Showing My Work
Yes. I know what you expect. Should I sssslur my essess for you? No. Not I. I am not some tribal newcomer filled with naivety, forced to lisp and whine at your feet. My kind are the blood of the Dragon's, and I have been touched by two of them. Can you say as much?
My barbaric kin and their "ancient" ways are a trap, a trap of complacency. Not even the irvhir truly seek to free themselves, to truly seek what they want. I have seen the marks of the Dragon's in the earth, and I have walked the slave markets of Darguun. The towers of Sharn are well known to me, and the madness in the depths of Khyber whisper around me. If you have business for me, let us begin. Otherwise, my time will not be wasted.
Vhir was always an odd one in his kobold tribe. For one thing, there was the coloring---a dusky, midnight blue the color of Khyber. Secondly, there was always an odd smell around him. To kobolds, the smell of home was that of comfort, of tribe, of stability. But Vhir smelled... wrong. It was not quite the stench of the irvhir, the hated kobold-kin that claimed descent from the Dragon Below, but an aroma that was... unsettling. It was this scent that earned him the name Vhir---he smelled like "One Below".
The blood seers were unquiet around Vhir, but, since he was so obviously marked by The One Between, the seers had little choice but to raise them as one of their own. But it was poor going---though Vhir's mind was sharp, he could not master the sorcerous ways of his kin. Occasionally, however, strange things would happen---rocks would shatter, smaller kobolds would occasionally go mad, that sort of thing---when Vhir was around. Over time, the blood seers became convinced that Vhir was not touched by The One Between, but The One Below---Khyber.
Thus, Vhir found himself exiled, left abandoned in the mountains of Zilargo. Unluckily for him, these were the Seawell mountains---and he chose the Darguun side to descend. Needless to say, when the bugbear slavers tried to take him, it was not pleasant. He managed to slay two of them with his gifts of Khyber, but there were too many. He became a slave.
A year passed. Vhir was passed from master to master. Transitions happened so often since odd things kept occurring when Vhir was around---madness, swarms of bugs, that sort of thing. None could point at the kobold directly, but they knew he was responsible somehow. Others tried to kill him several times, but, by this time, Vhir had learned to ingratiate himself, and always had someone bigger and meaner looking out for him. Eventually, when his last master died---it was never quite discovered how---Vhir was "free." As free as a frail looking kobold could be in a nation of strength and barbarism.
Vhir had learned much in his time. He learned the power of the cold voice, the intimidating look, how the refined seem to draw power. He learned how to make people do things, and how to find out what he needed to know. He learned the lessons of power, and strength, and the weakening tribalism that gripped his clan. Most of all, he learned enough to know that Darguun was not the place to be. From traveling merchants, he knew about a place he could get lost, and never worry about such brutality again. Sharn. And thus, he hid himself in the first transport to the City of Towers. There, he could find misfits like himself and patrons who could benefit from his... abilities.
Appearance and Personality
The kobold known as Vhir has a reputation of being a competent negotiator. He has a civilized voice with an odd timbre that makes people uneasy and willing to help him all at once; the rumors of madness and other oddities that follow him also lend his presence some weight. His impeccable manners and well dressed appearance (nice clothes, fine Eberron-shard tipped darkwood walking stick) distinguish him from others of his kind. Shady, and some not-so shady characters, seek Vhir out when they need deals brokered in a discrete manner. Sometimes Vhir sent to bring a message; sometimes he sent is to scare. Vhir does not care about the details. As he learned in Darguun, the only thing that matters is comfort and survival.
Vhir works remarkably well with others. He is a fine judge of talent, an ability that he developed when playing the strong against each other in Darguun. He appreciates the skills that others bring. However, he doesn't care for any who hold him to kobold stereotypes or try to weaken his position, comfort, or freedom.
Vhir is very short for kobold, barely standing 2 feet tall. His skin, which his fine glammerweave clothes accent, is a dusky purple; his eyes glow a deep red when his shaders are not worn. He speaks with a deep voice for a kobold, in a very refined and assured manner. His actions and motions are very measured.
Vhir prefers others fight for him, as he knows his physical frailities would fail in him in melee. If confronted by one bully alone, he will drive them mad with his voice of madness; if confronted by several, he tries to flee or talk them out of it (via a quick Intimidate or Diplomacy check as appropriate).
When fighting with a group, Vhir stays way to the back. He prefers to drive the strong or spellcasters insane with his voice, or, if the enemy is in a bunch, summons a swarm to harry them. Eldritch blasts are used as appropriate.
Summonable Creature Statistics
Last edited by stonegod; Friday, 15th September, 2006 at 01:31 PM.
Tuesday, 4th July, 2006, 06:26 AM #4
Acolyte (Lvl 2)
Name: Morika Kevsecks
Class: Druid 4 (shifter druid substitution level 1)
Hit Dice: 4d8+8, 34 HP
Speed: 30 ft
Armor Class: 17 (10 +2 armor +2 Dex +3 shield)
Base Attack Bonus: +3
Attacks: Shortspear +7 (1d6+3/x2, 20ft range, P)
Sickle +7 (1d6+2/x2, S)
Club (as shillelagh) +7 (2d6+3/x2, B)
Club +6 (1d6/x2, B)
Gore charge +9 (2d6+5/x2, B)
Full Attack: Gore charge +9 (2d6+5/x2, B) or
Shortspear +7 (1d6+4/x2, P)
Special Qualities: Shifting (+2 to Str, horns, lasts 7 rounds normally), low-light vision, +2 racial bonus on Balance, Climb, and Jump checks, Shaky flaw (-2 penalty on all ranged attack rolls), beast spirit (ability bonus, Alertness, extended shifting, feral empathy, will of the spirit), nature sense, wild empathy +8, woodland stride, trackless step, resist nature’s lure.
Special Attacks: Gorebrute charge (2d6+5), can knock people prone
Saves: Fort +6, Ref +3, Will +6
Abilities: Strength 16, Dexterity 14, Constitution 15, Intelligence 11, Wisdom 15, Charisma 6
Skills: Balance +4, Climb +5, Concentration (2) +4, Handle Animal (5) +7, Jump +5, Knowledge (nature) (5) +9, Listen (4) +9, Ride +4, Sense Motive +3, Speak Language (Sylvan) (2cc), Spot (4) +9, Survival (5) +9 (+11 in aboveground natural environments), Swim (1) +3. While wild instincts is prepared, Spot and Listen are both +11.
Feats: Gorebrute Elite, Shifter Instincts, Shifter Ferocity
Action Points: 7
Languages: Common, Druidic, Sylvan
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Deity: Greensinger Druidic traditions
Height: 4' 11"
Weight: 115 lbs
Spells Memorized/Spell Slots 5/4/3:
0th – cure minor wounds x3, detect magic, detect poison
1st – cure light wounds x2, magic fang, shifter prowess (RoE)
2nd – barkskin, bull’s strength, wild instincts (RoE)
Masterwork leather armor – 160gp
+1 heavy darkwood shield – 1,257gp
Masterwork silver sickle – 326gp
Masterwork darkwood shortspear – 331gp
Heward’s Handy Haversack – 2,000gp
Boots of Comfort – 1,000gp (continuous endure elements while worn)
Bedroll – 1sp
Hammock – 5gp (A&E)
Flint and Steel – 1gp
Fishhook – 1sp
Money belt – 4gp (A&E)
Silk rope 50’ – 10gp
Climber’s kit – 80gp
Waterskin – 1gp
10 days’ worth of trail rations – 5gp
Explorer’s outfit – 10gp
Dagger – 2gp
Holly and mistletoe
20gp, 20sp, and 10cp are in her money belt
185gp and 7sp are in her haversack
I am not a kind person. More than most of my people, I am feral, dangerous, rude, and eager to spill blood. Yet I am not an evil person. The blood that I spill is that of the cruel and decadent, those that I am rude to deserve it, and the danger I represent is not to those on the side of good. My animal ferocity is brought against those who defile the world, not those who revere it.
This does not make me good in the eyes of many, yet I speak only the bluntest of truths in this matter. The beast spirit within my breast has no need for false words and sweet lies. I am a fighter of the wood, a seeker of truth, and a destroyer of darkness. Because I do not wear shining armor, I am discounted as a barbarian. Because I make no speeches to rouse the hearts of the weak and helpless, I am seen as cruel and rude. Because I gore my enemies to death with my own horns, I am feared. Because I demand gold for my strength, they whisper curses behind my back. Yet the danger passes after I have, and things are better when I leave.
My name is Morika. I am a gorebrute shifter, a druid whose animal spirit lies within rather than without, a hunter of evil and a speaker of uncomfortable truths. I will answer your call Elinvath Sargessean, for you seek those who act without though, who commits completely to a course of another's choosing. I am such a woman.
Morika was born at the border of the Eldeen Reaches, Breland, and what would become Droaam, and became thrown into the war at a young age. Her strength, even when young, was prodigious, and her senses were keen. Her shifting manifested early, in her growing the horns of the great mountain rams of the Byeshk Mountains. She was an only child in a small extended family of shifters, the Kevsecks, all of who fought fiercely to protect their tiny corner of the world from the armies of Breland and the monsters of Droaam.
The humans that lived near them welcomed her family's strength, but not them. Healing and other aid was given fearfully and reluctantly, and despite the fact that the villages needed the protection of her clan, they considered them little more than half-tamed beasts. Despite their reluctant care, they did have a deeply-buried kernel of pride, which is what kept the Kevsecks at their deadly work. Two uncles and five cousins died under the swords of ogres or the arrows of human archers, and Morika, too young to avenge them, had to find a new way to channel the anger of their senseless deaths.
It was her mother who led her deep into the unspoiled wilds to attempt to bring her child's anger and pain under control. Shifters often had uncontrollable tempers and bouts of violence that brought them such trouble, yet made them such powerful protectors. "It is called 'The Beast Within,' the blood of our lycanthrope ancestors that bound the spirit of the animals within us. In you it burns so brightly, my daughter. If you learn to bond and merge with your beast spirit, you can channel your anger, your pain, and be stronger than anyone could imagine."
Morika spent the last five years of the Last War at a curious peace with herself. She was still given to violence and rage, but now she raged with reason, with purpose. The establishment of the Treaty of Thronehold forced her to find a new reason. The simplest was to wander, something she had been wanting to do for many years. Freed from the responsibility of protecting the villages from marauding armies, she struck out across the Eldeen Reaches and beyond. Gold bought her strength, rage, and purpose now, her protection against the evils of bandits and monsters. Going as the wind took her, Morika has been searching for a new purpose with each new place and contract.
While Morika's mother, S'veka, followed no formal druidic tradition, Morika has found a niche in one of the lesser-known sects, the Greensingers. During the lulls in the Last War, Morika made friends with an oread named Stonefell in the Byshek mountains. Her own nature of the stubborn goat fitted with Stonefell's, and Morika began to learn more about the wider nature of fey from her. Though not a scholar, Morika made an effort to learn Stonefell's native language of Sylvan, so she could converse with other fey.
She fell naturally into the Greensinger sect when they found the angry young shifter talking earnestly with dryads and sprites in their territory. Most people have been very surprised when they learn what path Morika follows. She has the voice of a crow, the face of an irritable goat, and the rhythm of a rock, which puts her in the extreme minority with the beautiful and talented elves, half-elves, and humans that comprise most of the sect. Instead of representing the endless revel of nature, as most of them do, she represents its fury. She has been known to take up quests of vengence on behalf of fey otherwise bound to once area of the land.
Despite this, she has an almost childlike awe of natural beauty, and her rudeness disappears entirely from her when she is in the deep woods or conversing with friendly fey.
Morika is a small woman, heavily muscled, with a heavy forehead that gives her face a brutish cast. Her eyes are dark gray, and her long dark brown hair is worn in a multitude of braids. Tattoos cross her neck and back, as well as down her arms and legs in intricate, stylizes shapes of animals. Her expression is often dour, and when she smiles, her teeth are very sharp. She wears worn leather armor and sturdy clothing, and keeps a sickle at her belt and a shield on her arm. Her other weapons and various sundries are kept in her well-made backpack, so it seems she is traveling exceptionally light.
One thing people may notice about her is that she either keeps her hands in constant motion or locked on the hilt of a weapon or the strap of her shield. Would they see them still, they would notice that they shake, subtly but constantly. Morika doesn't exactly know when it started, but it's been going on as long as she can remember. Perhaps it's because of the death of her kin, or the nightmares she still has about what the monsters of Droaam did to them. Or perhaps it's just because she has too much anger within her to hold herself in stillness.
Tuesday, 4th July, 2006, 11:03 PM #5
Lama (Lvl 13)
- Join Date
- Aug 2005
- Hampton, VA
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ø Block Deuce Traveler
Name: Doral Kinsman
Class: Beguiler 4
Hit Dice: 1d6x4, 20 HP
Speed: 30 ft
Armor Class: 17 (10 +4 armor +3 dex)
Base Attack Bonus: +2
Attacks: Masterwork Silver Dagger +3 (1d4, 19-20 x2);
Thrown Dagger +5 (1d4, 19-20 x2, Range Increment 10)
Full Attack: Masterwork Silver Dagger +3 (1d4, 19-20 x2)
Special Qualities: Half-Elf Traits
Special Attacks: None
Saves: Fort +1, Ref +4, Will +3
Abilities: Strength 10, Dexterity 16, Constitution 10, Intelligence 18 (was 17), Wisdom 8, Charisma 14
Skills: Tumble +10 (7 points), Disable Device +11, +13 w/masterwork tools (7 points), Hide +10 (7 points),
Listen +4 (4 points), Move Silently +10 (7 points), Open Locks +10, +12 w/masterwork tools (7 points),
Search +14 (+7 points), Bluff +9 (7 points), Use Magic Device +6 (4 points), Concentration +2 (2 points),
Sleight of Hand +6 (3 points), Disguise +5, +7 w/kit (3 points), Spellcraft +9 (5 points), Spot +1 (0 points),
Diplomacy +4 (0 points), Gather Information +7 (1 point)
Feats: Improved Initiative, Investigator
Action Points: 7
Languages: Common, Goblin, Elf, Dwarf
Height: 5' 8"
Weight: 165 lbs
- Level 0: Dancing Lights, Daze, Detect Magic, Ghost Sound, Message, Open/Close, Read Magic
- Level 1: Charm Person, Color Spray, Comprehend Languages, Detect Secret Doors, Disguise Self,
Expeditious Retreat, Hypnotism, Mage Armor, Obscuring Mist, Rouse, Silent Image, Sleep, Undetectable
- Level 2: Blinding Color Surge, Blur, Daze Monster, Detect Thoughts, Fog Clouds, Glitterdust,
Hypnotic Pattern, Invisibility, Knock, Mirror Image, Misdirection, See Invisibility, Silence,
Spider Climb, Stay the Hand, Touch of Idiocy, Vertigo, Whelming Burst, Minor Image (advanced learning)
Spells Memorized/Spell Slots: 6/6/3
Current Spells: 6/5/3
Mithril Shirt (1,100gp)
Masterwork Silver Dagger (322gp)
3x Daggers (for throwing) (2gp each)
Wand of Magic Missile (1st w/48 charges) (750gp)
3x Potions of Cure Light Wounds (50gp each)
Potion of Jump (50gp)
Potion of Pass Without a Trace (50gp)
Potion of Sanctuary (50gp)
Hand of the Mage (900gp)
Quaal's Feather Token, bird (300gp)
Masterwork Thieves Tools (100gp)
Grappling Hook (1gp)
Small Steel Mirror (10gp)
Silk Rope (50 ft) (10gp)
4x Trail Rations (5sp each)
Tanglefoot Bag (50gp)
Traveler's Outfit (1gp)
Potion of Levitate (300gp)
Potion of Spider Climb (300gp)
Disguise Kit (10 uses) (50gp)
Doral has dark brown hair and dull gray eyes with a boyish, charming face. He is 5 feet, 5 inches tall and thin, but does not stand out in a crowd, despite his pleasing looks. In fact, he lacks distinguishing facial features and his fay-like face is hard to remember when people describe him. Doral is an extremely good listener, and people genuinely seem to enjoy telling the half-elf about their problems, though he rarely offers advice or opinion. He is quick with a joke, glows with an appreciation of life, and is always ready to offer an ear to the agitated.
Currently he is wearing simple, dark red clothes. The outfit is colorful enough to help blend into the normal crowd, yet dark enough to hide with. If he is recognized when he doesn't want to be, he will attempt to lose the old outfit, and purchase a new one with a new color, but similar in dark tone.
Of course, being a listener was part of Doral's job: a spy for Aundair. Doral was an up and coming member of the Royal Eyes, and helped infiltrate the organizations of many of Aundair's potential enemies. He was working a deep cover operation with several other Royal Eyes at Tanar Rath in Karrnath when his identity was blown. Doral Kinsman was severely injured in his escape, but he ended up being the only member of the Royal Eye team to return. Despite his prior service, jealous members of the organization suggested that Doral may have been the source of the intelligence leak. Although a trial acquitted him of guilt, his reputation was tarnished and he resigned from the Royal Eyes.
Now he wishes to conduct his own investigation into the intelligence leak on his own, but first there is the problem of revenue. Ever since he returned to Aundair Doral was removed from the government payroll. Low on the funds he knows he will need to work the case on his own, he now seeks to raise money as a freelancer. Always the realist, Doral accepts that he will have to create a new life for himself before he can pursue revenge.
The Long Story
"Move fast, Doral," Sylla whispered to me as she squeezed my hand. She threw one last wink my way, then went into the hallway to join Zax.
I watched her go out the door, enjoying the swaying of her hips. Sylla, like myself and Zax, was a member of the Royal Eyes, the greatest espionage organization in the Five Nations. Her specialities lied in seduction and potions, as the sleeping body of Captain Manash attested.
The Royal Eyes had sent us to intercept messages coming from the Karrnath court to the captain of Tanar Rath. The three of us had taken jobs as servants at the garrison. Zax worked as a smith, I as a cook for the keep, and Sylla as a maid. Zax and I were the first to find signs of a troop build-up in the area, as extra food and materials were ordered for the garrison. I became friends with many of the soldiers, playing the occasional dice with them and making conversation with those that would come to the kitchen. Zax was busier creating weapons to be used by the undead and the living soldiers of Karrnath, although this was a clear indication that the forces of the garrison were about to be increased. Coded messages from the Royal Eyes began to stress the importance of discovering what was going on.
It was Sylla who was the most successful. After a few 'accidental' encounters in the hallway with Captain Manash, she succeeded in earning a visit to his room and seducing him. After a few days he confided to her that he received daily messages from the court, trying to impress her with boasts of his own importance. Sylla was unable to open his locked drawer in order to read the notes, which was more of my specialty. It was this that led us to a daring plan. Sylla drank and ate with Captain Manash every night before other activities. He tended to drink heavily, and supposedly had a low stanima, causing him to sleep deeply. Sylla would send a servant down with an order of food for the pair each night, giving me an excuse to enter their room. As this pattern became familiar, we decided to strike after Sylla sent a magical message to our contact in the Royal Eyes.
Sylla added a potion to Captain Manash's drink one night, causing him to doze. Soon after she sent a servant boy she found in the hallway to fetch me with an order for dinner and to give Zax a copper coin she owed him. On this signal, I came up with my tray of food, Zax accompanying me. Sylla and Zax were to talk outside Captain Manash's door while I was to unlock the drawer with the notes, read them, and copy down any vital pieces of information.
I put the tray down, and took out some of my 'special' tools. As I worked, I unsuccessfully tried to remove thoughts of Sylla and concentrate on the task at hand. I only found a simple poison needle trap, which was a good sign. Disabling it, I continued working as my thoughts drifted.
Why have I been having stronger fits of jealousy? She was a pretty woman, but there were more beautiful ladies in the world. Yet something about the way she touched my shoulder when she needed to talk... the way she smiled at me as if everything I said was important... the way she stood close... "Concentrate, fool," I told myself as I thought about the way she smelled. I could feel the latch give way.
As I opened the chest I could hear an argument begin outside the door as Zax and Sylla told someone that Captain Manash was sleeping and needed his rest. I suppose the answer didn't satisfy whoever they were talking to, as I heard the sounds of scuffling outside. I scrambled to reset the trap and to hide my tools, but the door was kicked in by a large man in black armor just as I picked my tray back up. He was followed by a smaller man with a nasal voice that I recognized as Manash's orderly.
"The other spy," the orderly yelled, pointing at me.
My blood ran cold as I could see several soldiers standing with weapons outside. Zax lay on the floor unmoving in a pool of blood. Sylla had her hands held and was flanked by soldiers on each side. Thinking quickly, I cast a charm on the orderly and said, "Spy, sir? Please, I'm not sure what these two did, but I just came up to deliver the lord's food." Escape now, get Sylla and Zax (if still alive) out later.
Confusion appeared on the orderly's face. "I'm sorry Doral, but someone has recently informed me of the most vicious rumors about you." The man in black armor gave the orderly a frown of surprise.
"Who said these things about me, sir," I asked indignantly. Was my cover blown?
The black armored man was smarter than I gave him credit. "Enough," he bellowed, interrupting the conversation. He moved forward and gripped me by the collar, tossing me out of the room, where I skidded across the floor and slid against the hallway wall. He was a strong one. Through my ringing head I could hear the orderly try to stop him, telling him I may be innocent.
My head cleared as the man came at me again, sword drawn. I tumbled out of the way, pulling a knife and slicing the arm of a soldier holding Sylla. He grunted in pain, but did not release his grip on her. I couldn't get her out. Nor could I allow her to be captured. I was sure Zax was dead, so he could not tell any secrets. I still might be able to escape. There was only one thing left to do, I realized, as I held a tighter grip on the knife.
Sylla must have realized what was on my mind. "No," she begged sadly, looking into my eyes. If she had stood bravely, I could have finished her rather than allowed her to be put to the question. But as I looked into those pleading eyes, my resolve broke. All this in the space of the six longest seconds of my life.
I cast one more spell, making myself disappear to the group of enclosing soldiers. Even Sylla gasped in surprise and began to look around wildly. I always kept my magical abilities secret, even to friends.
Next, I did the only thing I could. I ran.
After I returned to Aundair, I knew my career was over. Not only had the mission failed, but I had allowed an agent to be captured. The information about a troop build-up could not be confirmed, and an attack never materialized anyway, causing others to question my skills. Supposedly, Karrnath was also using the incident to privately blackmail small concessions from the Aundair court. Perhaps Sylla talked after all. As I sat, waiting for my trial to condemn or exhonerate me, I used the time I have to gather my thoughts and have come to this realization: we were betrayed.
It's only a feeling, but I can't figure out how we were captured so easily and during the act. I could make the accusation and ask for an investigation, but who would I trust? Perhaps it would be better to walk away if I'm not hung. To disappear for awhile in a different land, like a man broken and wandering. Let them forget me while I gather my own resources. Then I can return when they have grown lazy and content, unsuspecting of the man bearing down on them.
Last edited by Deuce Traveler; Monday, 16th April, 2007 at 11:32 PM. Reason: Edited Current Spell Slots
Wednesday, 5th July, 2006, 12:23 AM #6
Acolyte (Lvl 2)
Name: Partash (aka Parlinor Tashlov)
Class: Archivist 4
Hit Dice: 4d6+4, 22 HP
Speed: 30 ft
Armor Class: 16 (10 +5 armor, +1 Dex)
Base Attack Bonus: +2
Attacks: +1 heavy mace +4 (1d8+2, x2) or masterwork light crossbow +4 (1d8)
Full Attack: +1 heavy mace +4 (1d8+2, x2) or masterwork light crossbow +4 (1d8)
Special Qualities: Kalashtar traits, lore mastery (Knowledge (the planes)), naturally psionic, psi-like ability (mind-link 1/day), still mind
Special Attacks: Dark knowledge 4/day
Saves: Fort +6, Ref +3, Will +5 (+7 against enchantment spells and effects)
Abilities: Strength 12, Dexterity 12, Constitution 13, Intelligence 19, Wisdom 10, Charisma 10
Skills: Concentration +8 (7), Knowledge (arcana) +11 (7), Knowledge (dungeoneering) +11 (7), Knowledge (history) +11 (7), Knowledge (nature) +11 (7), Knowledge (religion) +11 (7), Knowledge (the planes) +13 (7), Spellcraft +13 (7)
Feats: Archivist of Nature* (can use dark knowledge against fey and giants), Draconic Archivist* (can use dark knowledge against constructs and dragons), Scribe Scroll (bonus feat)
*Feats from Heroes of Horror
Action Points: 7
Languages: Common, Draconic, Quor, Riedran
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Deity: The Path of Light (il-Yannah)
Height: 6' 1"
Weight: 156 lbs
Spells Prepared (Save DC 14 + spell level):
0––cure minor wounds, detect magic, light, read magic
1st––bless, comprehend languages, cure light wounds, protection from evil, shield of faith
2nd––align weapon, cure moderate wounds, curse of ill fortune (Will DC 16 negates), resist energy
0––create water, cure minor wounds, detect magic, detect poison, guidance, inflict minor wounds, light, mending, purify food and drink, read magic, resistance, virtue
1st––bless, comprehend languages, cure light wounds, detect evil, divine favor, doom, protection from evil, remove fear, shield of faith
2nd––align weapon, cure moderate wounds, curse of ill fortune, resist energy
+1 heavy mace (2312 gp)
Masterwork light crossbow (335 gp)
20 bolts (2 gp)
+1 chain shirt (1250 gp)
Vest of resistance +1 (1000 gp)
Silver holy symbol of the Path of Light (25 gp)
Silver holy symbol of the Sovereign Host (25 gp)
Everburning torch (110 gp)
2 scrolls of cure moderate wounds (150 gp each)
Traveler’s outfit (1 gp)
Backpack (2 gp)
Wednesday, 5th July, 2006, 06:15 AM #7
Novice (Lvl 1)
History: Dragen Kessler was raised in a destitute village whose borders rose above the chilly, high banked shores of the Mror River in Karrnath. The village was never particularly pleasant or fruitful, but it was home. The tiny inn and mud-walled hovels stood in stark contrast with the image of many foreigners of the might of Karrnath, but it was simply too far away from any place of any real importance to warrant much more. Even so, during the Last War the village suffered greatly as regular visits from the Royal Swords swallowed up whole generations of young people in the village for service in the army. Many never returned, and some that returned were simply broken inside by the horrors they had seen.
Still, Dragen was taken by in by it all. The blood-red wolf of Karnnath's banner stirred something deep and visceral within the young boy and he would often dream of following the best and finest of Karrnath off to battle. Despite the warnings of his parents, Dragen could not be diverted and once he was old enough, he fled in the night with nothing much more than a dream and his own naivete. Without so much as a whispered goodbye to his mother, Dragen set out upon his "grand adventure."
Military life wasn't exactly as Dragen expected, however. While Dragen could salute and march with the best of them, it was plain to see by the time he reached the middle of his training that he would never be a proper soldier. He was too wild, too independent, and damningly - too insubordinate. Despite his obvious talents, Dragen was sent to fill posts in a seemingly endless string of reserve posts while less talented warriors went onward to find their glories.
As the war moved along, Dragen became more and more disillusioned with his former patriotism. Eventually, denied one last ditch effort at gaining a commission from his seniority, Dragen slipped away in the night - turning his back upon his country as they had done on him. Long nights were spent huddled in the cold, looking over his shoulder, but finally it occured to Dragen that his ultimate indignity as a Karnnathian soldier was that no one even noticed he was gone.
The times were tumultuous and it was no wonder that no one came looking for Dragen, but still he was alternately horrified and depressed about the situation. He begged for food in the larger cities, made some simple coin bouncing tables at out of the way inns and taverns, and filled the role of guard with sullen resignation all across Khorvaire.
Years passed, and he finally found himself mixed up in the company of rough and tumble mercenaries doing the jobs for the Five Nations that were either too delicate or too dirty for regular soldiers to perform. Though his fellows were cutthroats, thieves, and murderers Dragen fond with them a solidarity and consistence of purpose. Even though they were often sent to perform missions with horrific losses, there was a sort of honor to be found and glory in the simple obedience to orders.
Then a nighttime raid changed Dragen's life.
It was supposed to be a casual raid of the sort that the mercenaries had performed many times before. It wasn't.
When the magnitude of what they had just done sank in, Dragen was beside himself with grief. The mercenaries fled, scattered across the countryside, hounded by the enraged enemy. Eventually Dragen slipped back into Karrnath, and started looking over his shoulder in earnest.
That was four years ago, and Dragen hasn't truly stopped running. As he made his way across rural Karnnath he ventured toward the village where he grew up, only to find an empty shell of his home town. Empty house after empty house, with no sign of survivors, stood against the northern skyline with an eerily quiet smoking testament to Dragen's childhood. Picked over by scavengers, in the clutter of his parent's home he was able to find the locket of his father that his mother wore at all times. That and the bright red tattoo of the Wolf of Karnnath on his chest are Dragen's past, the only reminders besides the nagging fear of reprisals for that horrific night that clutter his life.
In the Lhazaar Provinces, Dragen has found a place suitable for his temperament - where few people ask questions about things that don't concern them. Peace isn't something people expect among the pirates, and it's rare that peace is what Dragen is tasked to give them. He often finds his nights eased by the blissful numbness of strong drink, loose women, and sometimes worse, darker things. He's not quite sure if he's finally got it made, or if his luck has finally ran out. Still, he seeks his shining moment.
Appearance: Dragen would likely be unremarkable to almost anyone except for his quick, but haunted eyes. His dark hair is dusted with premature gray flecks like his grizzled-looking five o'clock shadow, and he's definitely lost hair and often shows off a slight sunburn at the nearly naked top of his head. His craggy features smile more than not, in the wry twist of his lips that follows his gallows humor. His clothing is mostly unwashed linens with many mends and stains, and across his chest is an enormous tattoo of a red wolf.
Still, his worn leather armor is of obviously fine Darguunish manufacture, and the oiled recurve of his intricately carved longbow is illustrated with death masks and baboons showing it's Aerenal origins plainly. Dragen might not seem to care about his personal appearance all the time, but he plainly takes great effort to keep his equipment in the best of shape.
Personality: Dragen is a broken man already resigned to his fate, trying to cling to the ideals that once offered him some sort of solace while hiding from the demons of his past. He's often sullen and sarcastic, or defeatist, and yet he has a strange tenacity for life. His manner is sometimes very obviously military and upright, but then something always seems to happen and Dragen slips back into the slump that he's made of his life. This may be the end of the line for Dragen, and he's intimate with the notion of his own imminent death and it shows in his face. The notion brings a certain sort of dark joy to his wounded soul, and Dragen enjoys the panic and discomfort his nihilism sometimes provokes in his foes and companions.
Name: Dragen Kessler
Class: Fighter 4
Hit Dice: 4d10+8, 41 HP
Speed: 30 ft
Armor Class: 16, Flatfooted 12, Touch 14 (10 +2 armor +4 dex)
Base Attack Bonus: +4
Attacks: +6 1d6+1 Masterwork Rapier; +11 1d8+4 +1 Composite Darkwood Longbow ( +1 Str Bonus, using Masterwork Arrows); +8 1d6+1 Javelin
Special Qualities: Human Traits
Saves: Fort +6, Ref +5, Will +1
Abilities: Strength 12, Dexterity 18, Constitution 14, Intelligence 14, Wisdom 10, Charisma 10
Skills: Climb +2 (1 ranks), Handle Animal +1 (1 ranks), Heal +1 (1 ranks), Intimidate +4 (4 ranks), Jump +2 (1 ranks), Knowledge (History) +3 (1 ranks), Knowledge (Nobility and Royalty) +3 (1 ranks), Ride +7 (3 ranks), Search +4 (2 ranks), Sleight of Hand +5 (1 ranks), Spot +2 (2 ranks), Survival +2 (2 ranks), Swim +2 (1 ranks), Tumble +5 (1 ranks), Use Rope +5 (1 ranks)
Feats: Armor Proficiency (heavy), Armor Proficiency (light), Armor Proficiency (medium), Point Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Rapid Shot, Sharp-Shooting, Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Tower Shield Proficiency, Weapon Focus (Longbow), Weapon Specialization (Longbow)
Action Points: 7
Languages: Common, Dwarven, Aquan
Alignment: Neutral Good
Deity: Dragen has a tendency to mumble to candles and his locket occasionally, but otherwise he's not particularly religious. Sometimes he prays before battles, but with prayers that would get him drawn and quartered in Thrane for heresy, or simply excluded from honest, polite company.
Weight: 145 lbs
27 gp 13 sp 60 cpTotal weight: 36.2 lbs Light load
+1 Composite Darkwood Longbow ( +1 Str Bonus) (2,530 gp)
Arrows (60), Masterwork (420 gp)
Javelins (18) (18 gp)
Masterwork Rapier (320 gp)
Masterwork Leather (160 gp).
Backpack (2 gp)
Bedroll (1 sp)
Flint and steel (1 gp)
Signet ring (5 gp)
Signal whistle (8 sp)
Pouch, belt (1 gp)
Waterskin (full) (1 gp)
Fishhook (2) (2 sp)
Traveler`s outfit (free)
Everburning Torch (110 gp)
Tindertwig (2) (2 gp)
Quiver of Ehlonna (1,800 gp)
Thursday, 6th July, 2006, 04:10 AM #8
Novice (Lvl 1)
Languages: Common, Celestial, Draconic, Elven
Alignment: Lawful Good
Deity: Silver Flame
Height: 5' 7"
Weight: 130 lbs
Time to go.
The young woman steps up to the small stair that leads into the cabin of the lightning rail. It was a step she had taken many times before, but this time the journey was different. This time the trip would not end in Sigilstar or even Aruldusk, but would continue far from her homeland, deep into the Lhazaar Principalities to the city of Tantamar, bound for Port Verge. It will be the farthest I’ve been from home, she mused as she entered the well-appointed cabin.
Anyone who looked at her eyes could see she was nervous if they could peer beneath the hood she wore. The traveler’s cloak and gleaming symbol of the Silver Flame she wore about her neck, the only item visible aside from the thick woolen mantle, made it clear that she was seeking privacy, and the reserved and restrained people of Thrane were happy to respect her wishes. She carried a birdcage, carefully covered with silk to shut out the world, from which emitted soft clacking noises then and again. Hushing the inhabitant gently, she sat down in the thick cushions, her head low.
What am I doing? She clenched her jaw. For Hariel.
Background: Glasia Domarus was the eldest daughter of Bishop Domarus, a popular priest of the Silver Flame with a reputation for administration and faith that was sure to earn him an honored position in the Council. Under constant scrutiny, she grew up even more religious than the average Thrane, the tenants of the faith forever etched into her mind. She studied at the finest schools Flamekeep had to offer. Success at courses in Theology and History came naturally to the bright youth, but what truly got her mind and heart racing was Wizardry. A visiting professor from Sigilstar instilled a love of the art of wizardry and an open mind in her being, and she took to the study of spellcraft with a passion. She served her father willingly once her studies were complete, helping him with practical and mystical knowledge as he slowly built up the support he would need for the transition to Cardinal. The future seemed bright and the road ahead as clear as day.
Until the morning of Sul, the third week of Dravago, one month ago. Glasia’s beloved younger sister, Hariel, awoke in a fever. She spoke in a strange language unlike anything Glasia had ever heard. Even her magic could not decipher its meaning. Her father’s young assistant, a crooked man named Suthat who was rumored to be watching over her father for the council, recognized it instantly. Demon, he called her. Unclean, he said. Tainted, he hissed. Calling on a exorcist to clean her of the possession proved unsuccessful. Her father, fearing the stain on his reputation, ordered her locked away in a small monastery leagues from the city, where sisters of the Church kept her locked under constant guard, refusing all visitation.
Certain that Suthat and some high-ranking member of the Council was behind the events, carefully constructed to test her father’s dedication to the reputation of the Cardinals, Glasia began to seek out her own cure. Her father was furious, disowning her and refusing to speak with his eldest again. After weeks of searching, exhausting all the favors she had accumulated over the years, Glasia found one man who could return her sister to normality. Decanar Versius is an unconventional man with unconventional desires. He demanded a magical tome in return for his services, unique and unseen except in the most complete collection in Flamekeep, known as Flavin’s Compendium. The owner has placed an enormous price on the book of over 50,000 gold, a sum more than ten times what Glasia could possibly earn in years of work as a simple scribe or translator. Even serving as a pet wizard to a rich employer wouldn’t raise the funds.
Glasia doesn’t know how the enigmatic Elinvath Sargessean became aware of her name or her desire for gold, but she sees the trip to Lhazaar as the only way to save her sister from a fate worse than death. Desperate for both the gold and a feeling of accomplishing something to help her dear Hariel, she leaves the comfort of her bright apartment in Flamekeep and joins five other heroes from all around Khorvaire with only one thing in common; a letter.
Personality: Glasia is young and new to the world outside Thrane. She can seem confused and bewildered by the behavior of those around her at times, but she learns quickly. She is unfailingly polite and reserved, soft-spoken and dedicated. Her faith is still strong despite the way the Church and her father have let her down, and she tries her best to live by the tenants of the Silver Flame even though she left direct service as a cleric years ago. She knows in her heart that one day she will have to choose between doing what the Church sees as proper and what she needs to do to save her sister. The decision won’t be hard to make; Hariel comes first.
Name: Glasia Domarus
Class: Wizard 4
Hit Dice: 4d4, 13 HP
Action Points: 10
Armor Class: 10
Base Attack Bonus: +2
Attacks: Dagger +2 (1d4-1, 19-20 x2, 10 range)
Full Attack: Dagger +2 (1d4-1, 19-20 x2, 10 range)
Special Qualities: Human Traits
Special Attacks: None
Saves: Fort +1, Ref +1, Will +6
Abilities: Strength 10, Dexterity 11, Constitution 10, Intelligence 18, Wisdom 14, Charisma 14
Skills: 49 skill points (28+7+7+7)
Concentration +7 (7 ranks)
Decipher Script +11 (7 ranks, +4 Int)
Knowledge (Arcana) +11 (7 ranks, +4 Int)
Knowledge (Geography) +11 (7 ranks, +4 Int)
Knowledge (History) +11 (7 ranks, +4 Int)
Knowledge (Religion) +11 (7 ranks, +4 Int)
Spellcraft +13 (7 ranks, +4 Int, +2 from Arcana)
Spot +2 (+2 Wis, +2 Awareness within arm’s reach of familiar, additional +3 in sunlight)
Feats and Class Abilities: Heroic Surge (starting feat,spend 2 AP to gain an extra Move or Standard action), Heroic Spirit (human bonus feat, +3 AP/Lvl), Scribe Scroll (Wizard bonus feat), Spell Penetration (3rd level feat, +2 bonus on caster level checks (1d20 + caster level) made to overcome a creature’s spell resistance)
Wizard Spells Known:
Resistance: Subject gains +1 on saving throws.
Acid Splash: Orb deals 1d3 acid damage.
Detect Poison: Detects poison in one creature or small object.
Detect Magic: Detects spells and magic items within 60 ft.
Read Magic: Read scrolls and spellbooks.
Daze: Humanoid creature of 4 HD or less loses next action.
Dancing Lights: Creates torches or other lights.
Flare: Dazzles one creature (-1 on attack rolls).
Light: Object shines like a torch.
Ray of Frost: Ray deals 1d3 cold damage.
Ghost Sound: Figment sounds.
Disrupt Undead: Deals 1d6 damage to one undead.
Touch of Fatigue: Touch attack fatigues target.
Mage Hand: 5-pound telekinesis.
Mending: Makes minor repairs on an object.
Message: Whispered conversation at distance.
Open/Close: Opens or closes small or light things.
Arcane Mark: Inscribes a personal rune (visible or invisible).
Prestidigitation: Performs minor tricks.
Shield: Invisible disc gives +4 to AC, blocks magic missiles.
Mage Armor: Gives subject +4 armor bonus.
Obscuring Mist: Fog surrounds you.
Comprehend Languages: You understand all spoken and written languages.
Identify M: Determines properties of magic item.
Sleep: Puts 4 HD of creatures into magical slumber.
Feather Fall: Objects or creatures fall slowly.
Orb of Fire, Lesser: Ranged touch attack deals 1d8 points of fire damage, additional 1d8 per 2 levels above 1st (purchased for 150gp)
Protection from Arrows: Subject immune to most ranged attacks.
Resist Energy: Ignores first 10 (or more) points of damage/attack from specified energy type.
Knock: Opens locked or magically sealed door.
Invisibility: Subject is invisible for 1 min./level or until it attacks.
Scorching Ray: Ranged touch attack deals 4d6 fire damage, +1 ray/four levels (purchased for 300gp)
Shatter: Sonic vibration damages objects or crystalline creatures. (purchased for 300gp)
Mirror Image: Creates decoy duplicates of you (1d4 +1 per three levels, max 8) (purchased for 300gp)
Continual Flame: Makes a permanent, heatless torch. (purchased for 300gp)
Spell Slots: Wizard 4 0 level, 4 1st level, 3 2nd level
Spells Memorized (x means cast): Detect Magic, Read Magic, Mage Hand, Prestidigitation X, Shield, Mage Armor, Obscuring Mist, Sleep, Shatter, Invisibility X, Scorching Ray
Inventory: 694 gp, 9 sp, 4cp
Goggles of Minute Seeing (+5 bonus to Search checks to find secret doors, traps, and similar concealed objects, 1250gp)
Silvered Dagger (22gp)
Clothing (fine wizard’s robe inscribed with the symbol of the Silver Flame x 2, 40gp)
Candle x 5 (5cp)
Scroll case x 10 (10gp)
Flint and steel (1gp)
Vial of ink (8gp)
Paper x 20 (8gp)
Belt w/ 5 pouches (5gp)
Sunrod x 5 (10gp)
Potion of Cure Light Wounds x 5 (250gp)
Alarm x 5 (125gp)
Detect Secret Doors x 5 (125gp)
Expeditious Retreat x 5 (125gp)
Mount x 5 (125gp)
Floating Disc x 5 (125gp)
Arcane Lock x 1 (175gp)
Locate Object x 1 (150gp)
Silence x 1 (200gp)
See Invisibility x 1 (150gp)
Spider Climb x 1 (150gp)
Whispering Wind x 1 (150gp)
Size/Type: Tiny Animal
Hit Dice: 4 (6 hp)
Speed: 10 ft. (2 squares), fly 60 ft. (average)
Armor Class: 19 (+2 size, +3 Dex, +4 natural), touch 17, flat-footed 16
Base Attack/Grapple: +2/-8
Attack: Talons +7 melee (1d4-2)
Full Attack: Talons +7 melee (1d4-2)
Space/Reach: 2½ ft./0 ft.
Special Attacks: —
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, Alertness (given to master when within arm’s reach), improved evasion, share spells, empathic link, deliver touch spells
Saves: Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +6
Abilities: Str 6, Dex 17, Con 10, Int 7, Wis 14, Cha 6
Skills: Listen +4, Spot +16
Feats: Alertness, Weapon Finesse, Master gains +3 to Spot checks in bright sun
Last edited by Bobitron; Friday, 15th September, 2006 at 02:15 PM.
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