Great post KS
Thanks, Holyman, I appreciate it.
Airwalkrr:
1. I rolled for Kit's starting
gold: 30 gp.
Dagger and scabbard 2gp
High hard boots 2gp
Belt 3 sp
2 robes 12sp
tinder box 1 gp
bullseye lantern 12 gp
10’ pole 3 cp
backpack 1 gp
large belt pouch 1 gp
iron rations 1 week 5 gp
5 flasks of oil.
4sp 7cp
2.
Spellbook. Are you using the starting spellbook from the DMG? That means no UA spells to start, but that's ok. If so, I've rolled
here:
spellbook: Read Magic, Sleep, Feather Fall, Detect Magic
(feather fall a choice for defensive spell)
3.
Backstory. "Kit, Growing up"
Back in the day, Kit was a tough and hardy lad, who excelled his agemates in the village of Cobton in almost every way. His parents were proud, and Kit’s exceptional range of talents led his mother to hope, not entirely secretly, that he could grow to become a paladin someday. And so it might have been: in the village schoolhouse, Kit learned to read and write; he was always the best at sports, and while he would win most churchyard knife fights, he knew enough not to fight when the grownups were looking. Sure, Kit was intense, but that could be forgiven, perhaps. He had even caught the eye of Sir Reginald’s daughter, and told himself that someday, when he was worthy, he would ask for her hand, even though that would mean his mother’s hopes of him being a paladin could not come true.
Then he got sick. His body wasted to barely half its mass, his hair fell out, black fluid poured from his eyes instead of tears. It hurt to chew, and he could not move. After five years of this, even his mother wished he could die. Kit, thanksfully, was unaware of most of it, and doesn’t remember the screams that would keep half of Cobton awake. Sir Reginald’s daughter married (a noble from another village, much older than her, but richer than Kit), and Kit pretended he had been unaware of that too. But it was another three years befoe the black oil stopped pouring from his eyes, leaving them inky pools that would never appear human again. By this time, his family had abandoned him, of course, his illness much more than they could treat. And he might still be there today, if he had not been found by Master Kord, a wizard who also had inkdeep eyes, who read a spell that eased Kit’s pain, and took Kit away to train as an apprentice.
In Kord’s tower, he recovered, and was taught that his illness was one of the ways that magic asserts itself. It’s not a noble calling, or a particularly high one, but it was his gift, Master Kord told him. And that might be: Kit proved an apt pupil, and has now learned the basics. Now in his thirties, having lost nearly a decade to the illness, Kit has much of his strength back. His bones remain brittle, though, and his body hair never did regrow, but he did get his mass back, and he sees the possibilities in front of him. He has taken his leave of Kord. Life is full of risks, and Kit has taken some already. What’s a few more?
