Your favourite PC

[STARP_JVP]

Best PC you've ever played.

For me, choice of three:

• Raven, aka Raven the Bold (but only used by him). Raven was an Errol Flynn-like swashbuckler with more than a keen eye for the ladies - he used both eyes. He was never serious, always happy-go-lucky and always flashy - even when he didn't need to be. He had to make an entrance, even going so far as to break a very expensive chandelier trying to swing on it. He also wrote an opera, solely for the purpose of bedding the beautiful soprano. She turned out to be a dragon; that is another story.
• Anya Romani. Only played her for a few months in a short-lived campaign but I really liked her. Anya was a Sorcerer with anger-management issues. She once set someone on fire for hitting on her. She also was way smarter than the rest of her party, and she knew it, taking every opportunity to 'remind' them of the dumb-ness of her plans. She also hated other spellcasters. She was a self-loathing bitch, which is why she was so much fun to play.
• Wilbert T. Slybones. On second thoughts, Wil Slybones is my favourite, though the other two come close. Wil Slybones was a halfling bard, who on his first in-game Perform check rolled a 1, thus setting the scene for months of jokes about his playing ability. Greedy, selfish, arrogant, egotistical, foppish, dandy, foolish, curious, quite possibly insane, Slybones swept through the campaign like a typhoon, leaving destruction in his wake. Let me put it this way - his favourite expression was "Don't worry - I know what I'm doing." He was so much fun. I'm waiting to resume playing him following a hiatus brought about by a tiff with another PC - when he returns he is going to have 'found religion'. Should be a wheeze.

 

[Snapdragyn]

Since you started with 3, I'll continue the trend:

3) T'lar, my bard. Actually, he only has one level of the 'bard' class, but his spirit is definitely that of a bard & he certainly identifies himself as such. He has one of my favorite character introduction write-ups:

T’lar was born in rural Thorp – the real one, not one of those little imitations. Like most of the people in the area, his parents were simple farmers. Simple cabbage, simple lettuce, simple potatoes – none of that fancy ‘romaine’ or ‘endives’ or other big-city stuff like that, no sirree. Aware at an early age that the fates had played a cruel joke by placing someone of his obvious charm, grace, & wit in such a setting, T’lar vowed to leave at the first opportunity. This desire was somewhat tempered by the love of his family, however, for it was a loving clan even if T’lar was convinced that they all dressed like potatoes – & we won’t even get into the haircuts. *shudder*

His family went about their simple lives while T’lar struggled against his wanderlust to try & make his parents happy… or at least not quite too frustrated with him. The mismatch worked both ways, you see, for his family could never quite understand what led him to shirk his duties on the farm in order to make the odd coin cleaning stables at the local inn. Was the horse different there? Little did they realize that the work at the inn was merely an excuse to interact with passing travelers. In this manner, T’lar was able to learn a bit of swordplay from the pages of passing knights, as well as a bit of other ‘play’. *cough*

In the summer of his 17th year, T’lar’s parents proved true to form by succumbing to a simple disease. Never mind that the rare Sepia Fever was all the rage that year, no, they had to go & die to something positively mundane while the cleric who served the region was far away. T’lar’s brother took over the farm, & T’lar vowed to work harder & be more responsible in order to help; this dedication lasted a solid six weeks before a passing merchant with tales of the big city of Prompeldia once again ignited his lifelong desire to escape the backwater in favor of the obviously superior frontwater. Not wishing to argue about it (he & his brother had never gotten on too well, especially after that comment about his brother’s taste in shoes), T’lar packed a few simple things (with promises that soon he’d be packing fancy things) & left in the night.

By the time he reached Prompeldia, T’lar’s supplies were mostly gone. On the advice of a guard at the gate, he made his way to an office of the Watch to apply for work, but as fate would have it the office had closed for the evening. Fate had its reasons, though, for it had finally decided to start making up for that little ‘oops, wrong birthplace’ mishap. That very night T’lar found his way into a profession much more suited to him than sweating in dusty leather at a gate all day – sweating in well-oiled leather in a bed all night.

Yes, T’lar became a hustler. The money was decent, the work certainly enjoyable, & other than the occasional trip to the cleric it was pretty good. Despite the occasional scrap faced by any young man living day-to-day in a big city, T’lar might very well have been willing to follow this new path on into his old age (23 seemed perfect for retirement); but after a few months, fate, apparently still feeling a bit guilty, intervened again – T’lar fell in love.

His name was Kovell, & he was the most beautiful man T’lar had ever seen outside of a mirror. T’lar first spotted him performing at an inn, & when Kovell approached him after his performance T’lar thought it was simply going to be a more pleasurable night of work than most. Kovell wasn’t interesting in hiring him, though; instead, Kovell merely talked to him for a couple of hours, & then went up to his room. Alone. Without inviting T’lar. This rather surprised T’lar, in much the way that the sudden appearance of a dancing troop of red dragons clad entirely in gold lamme during the middle of the midsummer crop blessing rituals might ‘rather surprise’ the simple priest of his hometown of Thorp, where neither dancing troops nor red dragons had ever been seen in living memory & gold lamme was considered a mere fairytale creation.

Anyway…

The next night found T’lar back again at the same inn, listening to Kovell’s performance & chatting with him afterwards. This became a pattern for T’lar, which cut into his business somewhat. After a week or so, Kovell suggested that they meet for brunch, a divine creation of one of the gods of Interesting Places to which T’lar had quickly taken. With his evenings once more free for work, T’lar would spend his days with Kovell discussing the state of the world over croissants with marmalade, or pan de chocolate, or a nice fruit salad with spiced honey yoghurt to the side. While the bustle of the city passed by on the street outside the café, Kovell told T’lar many tales of adventure & taught him the basics of music (for which T’lar seemed to have some small bit of talent).

Listening to Kovell’s stories, T’lar decided that his life deserved more adventure than could be found in even the richest noble’s pleasureroom, & he vowed that he would become a bard. He even had the perfect inspiration for his first great tragic composure, for as time passed it became clear that Kovell viewed T’lar as a beloved friend, & not as a beloved. The day came when he had taught T’lar all that he could of barding, & since it had become his custom to travel to a new city every few months, he made his departure with the advice that if T’lar truly wished to become a bard, he should seek out a group of companions with whom to adventure.

That very night, T’lar found himself at a familiar inn, drinking away his hearthache and chatting with a rather hodgepodge group when the proprietor approached them with an offer….

2) Galorin, my barbarian/fighter. Galorin is the archetypal 'dumb brute' barbarian, but he knows it. He struggles to hide his 'uncivilized' ways & fit in, pretending to read (though he can't; illiteracy trait so the fighter levels didn't remove it) & trying to speak Draconic like the smart ones in the group (we usually do this by having a player who speaks another language say something in that; I then repeat it as best I can & whatever mangled results come out are what the character said ). Not being so bright, he can be woefully oblivious to differences in the culture, though (like when he sunbathes nude on the deck of a ship, or that little misunderstanding with the Cormyrian guard about accepting monetary gifts for a night of 'entertainment').

He also takes things rather literally, as a party member found out last night. A bit of a tussle broke out between our cleric & a new group member, & someone said to pull them apart & throw them down a dark well we'd just found to cool off in the water below. Galorin grabbed one of them, got him over to the shaft, then failed the check to toss him in. The dwarf's player roleplayed the check as 'hah, I grab onto you' rather than saying he'd dug in his heels at the edge as I expected, so... Galorin just stepped forward into the well with dwarf clinging uselessly to him.

Hey, he'd been told to throw him in.

1) Dranik. Ah, Dranik. *sigh*

Dranik was my assassin (well, rogue/fighter/assassin). He wasn't evil (DM allowed N for the PrC), & in fact he was fighting for a good cause -- protecting humanity from 'the monsters' of the world. However, Dranik was a zealot, & as such was perfectly willing to accept the loss of a few innocents for the 'greater good' of his mission. Laws were to be obeyed only to avoid the inconvenience of having to break out of jail (assuming the guards got him that far); his personal mission was more important than any other goal or belief could ever be.

Dranik was a rather troubled soul, however, because the secretive organization which had raised him & instilled him with this fanatacism had also led him to believe that he was sired by 'something' not human. His mother had been insane since (& supposedly because of) his birth, but in one seemingly sane moment years before had told him that in fact his father was not a demon. Strangely enough, the organization moved her to a new facility 'for her own protection' immediately after she told him this, & assured him that she must have been saying what she wanted to believe in her delusional state.

So... sole reason for existance is to destroy the monsters, the possibility exists that he might be one (& I had plans to give him a level of warlock to further screw with his head on that note), & the people who raised him just might not be so great as they seemed. Dark, dark, at times teetering on the edge... that was Dranik.

He was fun to play. He'd almost decided to kill another party member who appeared to be under the control of an evil weapon (I was restraining my roleplay in the interests of game fun there & hoping he could just get rid of the weapon if it came to it). At one point, we ran into a naga in the Temple of All Consumption; while everyone else is chatting away getting information from it, Dranik studies it for three rounds... Death Attack! It failed, he almost died, the party (characters) wasn't pleased, but IT WAS A MONSTER!

It all ended in a TPC (capture) with a half-fiendish aboleth. Sad thing is, he (& the rest of the party) is still alive, but now a mind-controlled NPC. I'm hoping that when our new party reaches that point they succeed in freeing the old guys & then maybe I can convince the DM to let me play him again.

 

[Tolen Mar]

Ah, ye olde favorite PC's thread. Let's see what I can dig up.

1. Corben Wayne. The most munchkin RIFTS character I ever made. I had the first two sourcebooks, and the DM of the time decided I could therefore build a robot PC if I so wanted. I did, so I'd be as different as possible from the rest of the group. Corben was an Archie 3 experiment. Completely human in intellect, advanced bionics to look as human as possible, sent out into the world to see how well he fit in with humanity at large.

In short, he didnt.

He loved to fight. This guy was the one who would attack the guy the PC were talking to just because he wouldnt sit there and wait for the discussion to end. The thing is, he was good at it. Better than all the others in fact. He carried a pair of combat shotguns, one in each hand, stocks and barrels cut down. His forearms carried a pair of vibro-blades. His favorite attack was to use the jump jets in his shoes to loft up over his target, and death from above with the shotguns before landing on his target (needless to say as a combat capable bot, he wasnt the lightest thing to drop in).

Ah me...what you can't do in an environment of unrestrained munchkinism.

2. Sir Eglemore. No doubt I've mentioned him before here on the boards. What surprises me is how no one ever catches the source of the name.* If they do, they'll see right away why he is what he is. Sir Eglemore is an ex-dragonslayer. I dont mean he retired, I mean he died fighting a dragon. Said dragon then animated his corpse to serve as a guardian of the hoard. He still was the same, except undead, but bound by the magic of the place and could never leave. A hundred years later, he meets this group of adventurers looking for the dragons lair. At first he does his guard bit, but then slowly comes to realize that the magic holding him in place was gone. Turns out the dragon had been killed some time ago. So he enjoys his newfound freedom, and joins the would be lair robbers.

He was fun to play because after a hundred years of undead guardianship, there wasnt much left but his bones and suit of armor. He would go everywhere in full plate, and refuse to open his visor, even when in polite company. We had fun with it. At one point we were fighting on the castle wall, and he got pushed off. So he shattered into pieces at the bottom until he could 'pull himself together' again. He also had no trouble playing dead on the battlefield (and did, once).

3. Toog of the Shieldbreaker Clan, Follower of Sune Firehair. I was playing a gnome thief in a forgotten realms game my friend was running, a real cowardly type with zero combat skills. He didnt last long, got killed by some undead in a pit. While I was trying to decide what to roll up as a replacement, my DM came to me and offered me this idea. He handed me a novel to read (I forget the name of it), and asked me if I'd want to play a character based on the one in the novel. I started reading, liked what I saw, though I was unsure if I would be able to pull it off for long. Anyway Toog was born, naked and unarmed. He was trapped in a tower and freed by the rest of the PC's. He then proceeded to find a sword (a Claymore), a bit of cloth for his nether regions, and acted as party tank, thug, and firghtening force.

What was Toog you ask? Simple. He was an Ogre fighter, with the barbarian kit. Big, ugly and slow. The claymore he found was the only weapon of a size he could wield (and he later smashed it to pieces on a stone golem). What made him more than just an ogre was when he found out from the cleric about the goddess of love and beauty, Sune Firehair, he decided to dedicate his life to her. He felt that if he performed anough good deeds in her name, she would one day reward him with a handsome face (He had no illusions as to how ugly he was).

Imagine about five years later, when I saw the trailers for Shrek. I nearly bought a shrek doll to use as Toog. Then it got even more fun when Shrek 2 came out and he became handsome!

When 3E came out, I restatted him as a barbarian, enjoying the new rage abilities. And when the Epic Level Handbook came out, I advanced him to a level somewhere near 40 (I cant remember exactly right now). I made him a pit fighter, gave him a green dire tiger mount, and now he owns his own fighting arena. I gave him a lance (sized appropriately), but never got a chance to use it.

About Sune...well, lets say he's grown used to his appearance and no longer cares if she notices or not.

* Go on guess!

 

[Rabelais]

Rabelais was the first character I ever played, way back when during the 1st Reagan Administration. I've played a variation on the theme about 12 times in that period. It does get better with age...

Rabelais (Viscomte Kraelian d’Brise-Crete)

Rabelais is the nom de guerre of the Viscomte Kraelian d’Brise-Crete. His father the Comte d’Brise-Crete is a nobleman in the service of King Azoun IV in Cormyr. Rabelais is travelling as a Gentleman Adventurer along the Sea of Fallen Stars. Kraelian had been groomed to become a lieutenant in His Majesty’s Army after a short period abroad, but he has resigned that commission and has decided that his fate lies upon the road. As Viscomte, Kraelian has a large income from which to draw, but because of a rift between himself and his father he refuses to do so.

Rabelais has been classically educated in the elven fashion in philosophy, literature and the fine arts. Rabelais has also been trained in the fields of arms and magic. He is known at court for his wit and panache. His first play earned him some notoriety for its scandalous subject; a comedy set in His Majesty’s court that bordered upon bawdery. The play was well received by critics, but banned by the authorities. Kraelian’s father was furious, but decided not to publicly disown his son because of the pleadings of his mother.

Kraelian decided that it would be a good idea for him to embark upon his career as an adventurer sooner rather than later. Kraelian took the gross earnings from his work (rather than the net, as you, and his creditors will have undoubtedly noted) and purchased everything he needed to pursue his fortune abroad. As the saying goes “All roads lead to Waterdeep”. Rabelais calls upon his training in petty magic and as an accomplished musician to make himself useful on all sorts of occasions.

Kraelian’s marriage to the daughter of his father’s acquaintance was arranged many years ago, when both he and his intended were both infants. He has never met her, but has seen her. She was pointed out to him at a ball they both attended several years ago. He fell in love with her instantly, and imagines her to be a paragon of elven beauty. He believes that she is beautiful both in feature and sprit. Someday he hopes to return to Cormyr and take her for his bride, but he realizes that things will have to “cool off” a bit longer before he can make that dream come true.



2. Pritty Oliv

Pritty Oliv is my semi-retired Half-Orc warrior with a distinctive Orcish accent. She started off as an EQ Troll Warrior, but got ported over when I needed a 3.5 fighter

Elow der ebreebuddy! Dis heerz yer owld frend Pritty Oliv!

Itz bean uhwil sints Pritty Olivz hadda chans tu chat wid yew awl. Just bekuz Pritty Olivz retird downt meen dat She aint bean bizee. Az yew no bean uh Gurl Owrk iz uh ful tim jawb. Win yer nin fet tawl n wey lik uh hunnerd pownz yer bizee just makin shur dat yew downt brak stuf.

Pritty Oliv likz tu wak up erlee tu see de sun shinin in de sky. Den Pritty Oliv likz tu hav uh big brekfust. Dey say dat brekfust iz de mowst impotent meel uv de day n boy iz dey rit. Akshulee awl uv de meelz iz impotent. Ennyway itz impotent tu hav uh balantst meel in de mornun so Pritty Oliv alwaz ets standin awn wun fut just in kas. Frootz n nutz n joos n meet. Datz de sekrit tu uh lawng lif. Et gud n eksursiz.

Oh ya! Pritty Oliv bean wurkin owt. Sints I aint swingun uh sord at Pritty Olivz enuhmeez no mor Pritty Oliv wuz startin tu git luntchladee armz. Pritty Oliv runz fur uh kupul milz den liftz roks n udder hevee stuf. Awl yew men folk shud no dat Pritty Olivz stil gawt hur gurlee kurvs tho. tee hee

Aftur uh gud luntch Pritty Oliv likz tu tak uh nap. Pritty Olivz afturnun seestuh laztz fur un howr ur so. Aftur dat Pritty Oliv ritz Powutree. Itz impotent tu develup yer mentul fakulteez lik yew wud yer bodee. Yew shud awl membur dat.

Pritty Oliv likz tu go tu de park tu. At furst pepul wud git skard win dey saw uh Owrk in de park, kuz pepul iz skard uv Owrkz. Aftur uh wile win de pepul relizd dat Pritty Oliv wurnt no thret den dey wuz hapee, kuz deyrz nufin wurs den havin uh bad owrk in de park. Ennywaz de childrun lik it win Pritty Oliv komz tu de park kuz den dey no dat ifn uh kokutris ur uh buhowldur wuz tu sho up den Pritty Oliv wud be der tu pertekt um... Ennyway I push de kiddyz awn de swing n pla hopskotch n stuf. Peepul say "Oh gudee Heer komz Pritty Oliv" Dat makz Pritty Oliv hapee.

Pritty Oliv likz tu hav uh big supur. Pritty Oliv likz frawgz... Deyz gud frid n boyuld n bakt n potched n kuvurd n swamp joos... Frawgz iz gud ennyway yew kuk em. Pritty Olivz gawt uh gud lif gowin fur hersef witch iz nis.

Sew ifn yew wuz wunnerin "I wunner wut Pritty Olivz up tew rit uhbowt now" yew kan stawp wunnerin kuz now yew no.


3. Cale Yarrowburrow- Halfling Monk with a mohawk and a VERY short attention span. nuff said.

 

[Luthien Greyspear]

* Go on guess!

Sir Eglemore was the dead knight rotting between Draco's bicuspids in the movie Dragonheart. Sir Bowen pulled him loose during their humorous 'Mexican standoff'.

As to my favorite characters (continuing the theme of three):

1) Crudch the Ogre -- This was my theme for quite a while whenever I wanted to just play a fun character. I 'ported this guy into every system I could manage -- several AD&D games (half-ogre fighter), Shadowrun (troll gang member), Elfquest (troll), and finally...Paranoia. It was in this last campaign that he really shined. You see, Crudch was dumb. REALLY dumb. His intelligence in most games I played him was a 4 (except Shadowrun, where it was a 1). He was also strong and insanely loyal to anyone who was nice to him. Well, in Paranoia, the first entity to ever be nice to him was the Computer, who thanked him for registering his mutation so loyally and honestly. (His mutation? He had two. The first (registered) was that he was 9 1/2 feet tall, of a slightly olive-drab complexion, and could act as a forklift if necessary. The second was Machine Empathy, which Crudch legitimately couldn't register because he was SO stupid he didn't realize he had it.) We started that campaign as typical Red Troubleshooters, and I managed to get Crudch all the way up to Blue before he lost his first clone. That's right, BLUE. We lost dozens of team leaders, of course, but not Crudch. He was too big to really hurt without the attacker dying in the blast radius, and he was able to intimidate almost anybody. He had a backpack full of bricks that he would carry around (about 40 of them), and whenever anyone needed to be interrogated, he would just hold a brick in front of them and crush it to powder. Man, he was a blast to play.

2) Spider -- Dubbed by my entire gaming group as the most dangerous Shadowrun character they had ever seen. He was a former Aztechnology Phys-Ad company man that had gotten captured by Ares Macrotech and subjected to intense, military-grade wetware and bioware implantation. Needless to say, having your Essence (and therefore, your Magical ability) dropped to nearly zero overnight (not really, but it seemed that way to the character, as they kept him in a drug-induced coma the entire time) drove him right around the bend. His backstory had him literally killing the entire medical team and escaping into the Underground in Seattle. (What can I say? I had just finished the Weapon X series in Marvel Comics Presents...) He was loony as a jaybird, and as dangerous as a Banshee Hovertank. He once became convinced that he would be reincarnated as a squirrel, after the shaman in the party tried (and failed) to talk to him about the consequences of his actions. So, in his spare time, he prowled the parks of Seattle, KILLING ALL THE SQUIRRELS. Why? Well, if he was gonna come back as a squirrel, he sure wouldn't want it to be in Seattle. There's too many maniacs with guns running around killing squirrels...

The best session I ever had with him was when we were on the run from a ninja who had targeted us as his next hit. We were on a train, and we discovered the ninja and his cronies were in the luxury car planning to take us out before we reached Chicago. So, we attached ourselves to the undercarriage of the train, crawled (upside-down) all the way to the far end of his car, and then came up behind his cronies. After taking out the heavy gunner on the roof, my character got shot 7 or 8 times by this guy with a Narcoject rifle; basically, enough tranquilizer to drop a rhino (or two). After I staged the last dart down to no effect (again), the DM demanded to know how the hell I was still standing. I just looked at him and said, "I got a Beta-grade Blood Filter 10. Ain't nothing getting through that." Spider was my power-gaming peak.

3) Luthien Greyspear -- Ah, my longest lived character. He was the character I played in the best campaign I've ever played in. He started out as a semi-suicidal, self-loathing runaway slave, who had murdered for his freedom, only to find his home had been destroyed by the father he never knew, who turned out to be one of the most evil necromancers anywhere. Luthien became a necromancer himself, vowing to fight his father with his own tools, and to kill all necromancers everywhere. Including, eventually, himself. He was a loyal worshipper of Arawn, the judge of the dead, and felt that his very existence was anathema to his faith. It took a lot of coaxing on the part of the party (specifically, the priestess of Arawn), but Luthien grew into a very stable person. He got married, had children, and saved the world once or twice. He's the only character I've ever been able to properly retire, and the character I'm most proud to have played.

 

[(Psi)SeveredHead]

Linnorm Roszenko, a D20 Modern martial artist who reached 6th-level.

He was a school student who got sucked up into a big conspiracy theory, which started when three players tried to kill him for two very separate reasons! He started off panicky but ended up turning into a kick butt character who wouldn't hesitate to take on two yakuza gansters armed with spears ... with only his fists, knees and feet.

 

[Tolen Mar]

Sir Eglemore was the dead knight rotting between Draco's bicuspids in the movie Dragonheart. Sir Bowen pulled him loose during their humorous 'Mexican standoff'.

You sir are the first one to know that.

Glad to know Im not the only one who watched that movie enough to remember that part.

 

[Silmarillius]

Hmm...a tough time deciding which of my two favorite characters is my best. But I guess I have to go with my longest played, Nift Phaeldar.

Copyright Garett Oliver 2005

A gnomish bard raised by “Opal Phaeldar,” Nift has lived in Selby-by-the-water (town in my DM's home brewed campaign) most of his life. Being a runaway orphan, Opal took Nift under his wing, teaching him the ways of the bard, thus making him his heir. Nift is well mannered, and many the towns enjoy his music and comfort, though some distrust him and find him to be suspicious. He wears a cavalier hat with a white feather, musketeer boots, and a red leather shirt with leather lacing, brass studding, slashed with red satin. He has leather gloves and wears a red satin cape. He is 55 years old, is 3’4, 40 pounds, and has fair white hair, dark blue eyes and dark tan skin.

Nift 1st Level Bard: Gnome Brd 1; CR 1; Small humanoid; HD 1d6 +2; hp 8; Init +3; Spd 20 ft; AC 16, touch 13, flat-footed 13; Base Atk 0; Grp -5; Atk 0 melee, +4 ranged (+4 Light Crossbow), (1D6+3/19-20x2), +0melee/+4 ranged (+0/+4Dagger) (1d3/19/20 x3,) SV Fort +2, Ref +5, Will 3, Str 9, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 12, Cha 18. Skills and Feats: Balance +7, Bluff +8, , Diplomacy +8, Disguise +4, Gather Information +8, Hide +9, Knowledge (Baradic) +4, Knowledge (History) +7, Knowledge (Local) +7, Listen +7, Perform (String Instrument) +8, Read: Common, Feats: Dodge.

History:

55 years ago, a baby gnome by the name of Nift Diamondstar was born in the home of Luvi and Hildebrant Diamondstar. Luvi and Hildebrant loved their son with all their heart, and enjoyed every moment raising and teaching their son. For Nift’s father were Sorcerer’s. Though usually Gnome’s if pursuing the path of the arcane user would likely choose the way of the illusionist, Hildebrant found himself to be different from others, having unusually powerful powers. He pursued this path, getting himself into many untidily situations, but coming out of them miraculously. By the time he was in his 70’s, he met a wonderful and enchanting gnome named Luvi Silverstone the 3rd. When he first laid eyes on her, his heart raced, and her eyes fluttered, they were in loved. They soon were married and gave birth to their son.

This all happened around 4 years before Nift was born, and before that, Hildebrant met a brilliant and talented wizard named Amorath, known to many people as “Amorath the Arcane.” Him and Hildebrant grew to become friends, and enjoyed the company of both Hildebrant Diamondstar and his girlfriend Luvi Silverstone. Hildebrant and Amorath also became partners in many of his magic endeavors, most night’s Hildebrant would come home to his Luvi and son Nift, and suddenly snapping at them for his food not being on the table on time, and too exhausted to spend even a moment with them, and his wife Luvi began to worry. She was a shy and frail gnome, and failed to see why his husband spent more time with his friend Amorath then he did with his own family, but it did put food on the table.

As the years went on, Nift grew up splendidly, learning to read stories that his father gave him about brave knights and kingdoms far away. One place that intrigued him was a place known as Tal Slathan. He asked his father what this place was. His father then began to tell his son old stories of the place. (“Tal Slathan is covered in forested hills and swampland. Dwarves long ago settled there, and many of the precious gemstones that were not mined were still remain. Many went Tal Slathan, and founded the village of Oakhill, overlooked by Caer Pavallan. They traded foodstuffs to the dwarves of Marrowgate, in exchange for precious stones and silver. Their relationship was strong, and Oakhill grew prosperous. Then, one night in the dark of the moon, orcs from the Grey Hills sailed across Lake Elidyr in many skin boats. They raided Oakhill and besieged Caer Pavallan under the banner of the Blood-Drenched Fist. Though messengers flew across the lake to bring respite from the siege, aid came too late to save the castle. The orcish shaman, Grodd du Grumdash, summoned a great infernal shade that swept through the castle, unmanning those who guarded its walls. So Caer Pavallan fell, and those who would have come to Oakhill’s aid were captured and enslaved, or else driven from the shore. It was in this time that the dwarves of Marrowgate vanished, though whether they were slain, or fled, or sealed themselves within their delving no man knows. What is known is that, through haplessly captured slave labor, the orcs sought to mine the riches of Tal Slathan for themselves. Yet, while they long endured, they were in the end brought to ruin by the Shadow of Grodd du Grumdash, which had lain dormant for many long years while the orcs mined and prospered. Now, Oakhill lies in ruins, and Caer Pavallan stands over it like both a shadow, and a beacon for the lost riches of Marrowgate.) (1) I ventured to Tal Slathan with a former adventuring party of mine, but I was the only one who’d made it back, I was young and foolish.” “What happened to your party,” the young gnome Nift said. “I’d rather not say young Nift, for it is a story to horrid to tell, perhaps another time.”

Over eight years had passed since Nift was born, and Hildebrant and Amorath were growing close to achieving what they had worked towards for so many years. But, something so horrible had occurred. Some say Amorath went mad, but Hildebrant knew better. Tremors in the city had started forming, and the tower of Amorath the Arcane had collapsed. Hildebrant was at home for the day. He remembered before leaving that Amorath had told him he made a breakthrough, and appeared to have not slept for days. Hildebrant told him he should take some time off from our project or that if his wits aren’t about him something may go wrong. “You are surprisingly a wiser man than I, but I can’t stop now not when I’m this close,” Amorath replied. “This is as much my project as it is yours, and I’m warning you that if we go through with this too soon, the effects could be catastrophic,” said Hildebrant. “This……this is my life’s work, I’ve worked towards goal far longer than you Hildebrant Diamondstar, and it shall not be taken away from me!” said Amorath. “Amorath, you have gone mad, and I fear for my wife and child that I may be losing myself as we’ll, spending to much time with this endeavor….you want the glory all to yourself, you have it, but I shall not have anything more to do with this madness,” said Hildebrant Diamondstar, and with that, he left the tower.

The very next day, more than half the town was destroyed, and the towns’ people were quick to blame the magic users Amorath the Arcane, and Hildebrant Diamond star. Knowing this, Hildebrant pleaded with his wife that they must leave; his wife replied “Dear husband, I love you, and will go where we can be safe, but I can’t bear to have our son be the victim of your ways, and be taken from the town he loves so dear!” “You are right Luvi….Young Nift, your mother and I have to go away for a long while, we don’t know if we can ever return for you, but we want you to stay here at the orphanage,” said Nift’s father. “But father, can’t I come too?” replied Nift. “No son, I will not have you be the burden of my mistakes….” With that, they dropped Nift off at the orphanage, and Luvi and Hildebrant headed towards the west…

Whether they felt the choice Luvi and Hildebrant made for their son Nift, he always remained in their hearts. As for Nift, a slow rage had been building inside him for a number of years, he missed his home and family, and was teased by many the other children for his size. Nift left the orphanage, as he felt that by now he could make it on his own. He soon found himself in a bad crowd, gambling, stealing. Until one day he got into a fight with a young Half-Orc over some gold that Nift was lucky to have come across. Suddenly, a well dressed man came to the aid of Nift, and surprisingly, was able to send the Half-Orc on his way. “They way these children are able to walk the streets unmonitored, OH…no offense little one,” replied the man. “That was…..hey I’m pretty big for a Gnome, so I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me alone,” the homeless Nift replied. “Yes I could see you were handling that young half-orc pretty well, my name is Opal Phaeldar.” “Ummm…names Nift Diam……..no, just Nift, I gave that name up a long time ago.” Nift replied. “Well look, my place isn’t far from here, what do you say to a clean bath and a good meal,” replied Opal. “Well it’s better than this back alley, sounds good”

And so after that one night, Opal and Nift became the best of friends, and Nift had found a new father, not one who would abandon you to a hell whole, not one who spent all his time working and never enough time with his family. Opal, for years, taught Nift in the ways of the bard, usually none as successful as Opal, for he was a well respected musician with an uncanny wit and a clean cut beard. Nift idolized him, and adopted his old last name just as his parents did, for his mentor’s. From that day, he would be known as Nift Phaeldar.

1. A Guide to Character Creation in the Lakeland’s Campaign Setting by Daniel J. Bishop

Nift was over 15 now and still living with his mentor Opal Phaeldar. Nift had adopted this new name and abandoned his old one because of his childhood trauma. Though Opal had been flattered, he was curious as to why Nift had not kept both names, for as he knew a Gnome to have many names is far too common. But Nift usually kept to himself by those sorts of things.

Opal was a popular social figure in Selby by the Water, and often afflicted himself to many social gatherings. He earned this popularity by becoming a well known musician for a number of years and had managed to interest Nift in taking up the guitar. “Bards are too uncommon in this world lad, but their music is most sought after,” said Opal. “I had spent the better part of my adventuring career as a Bard. Ah, my poetics and musical lyrics would inspire greatness in all of my allies, motivating them to do better in combat, why I could remember a time back when I was you age that……well…you’ll have your own adventures someday….your first music lesson begins tomorrow,” and with that Nift went to sleep.



The way I tried to play this character was a swashbuckly type diplomat, who always has a flair for the dramatic. But he got killed by a Humaniod Bear one of my fellow players was playing...say hello to Nift 2! Just kidding...

 

[sniffles]

My favorite PC in D&D has to be one of my current characters, Telemnar Rohendil, my elf fighter/tempest in the campaign in my story hour. I'm hoping I'll get to play him right up to 20th level, or at least close. I'm planning to take him all the way through the tempest levels and then go into Champion of Corellon Larethian. I can't wait to have him do two-weapon spring attacks while wearing heavy armor!

Makes me sound like a munchkin. Actually I really enjoy playing a fighter. It's a challenge. He comes from Evereska (the Forgotten Realms equivalent of Lothlorien) so he's a bit naive about the wider world. He's open-minded and inquisitive, tolerant, even-tempered, deeply religious, and his great goal in life is to find his wife, who's been missing for about 6 months now in game time.

And I love it when my fellow players call him the Mixmaster.

My other most favorite character wasn't in a d20 game. I had a superhero in Champions that I just loved to play. Her name was Xcel. She was a brick of sorts, incredibly strong and tough, but also fast and agile (she excelled at almost everything). She also had enhanced senses, so she could hear a pin drop a mile away and see in near total darkness, in addition to being able to run 120 mph, leap onto a 5-story building, and throw a tanker truck.

I miss her. She was a blast to play. Sadly the GM decided that supers wasn't really his genre and the campaign died.