Xael "Blackrobe" Xorlarrin, Male Drow Wizard 3
Miscellaneous:
Height: 5'2''
Weight: 99 lb
Hair: Long (longer than shoulder level), White and loose. A bit uncempt.
Eyes: Bright Red, especially bright when angry.
Age: 147
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Speed: 30 ft.
Spell Resistance: 14
Ac: 14 (10 base + 1 armor + 3 dexterity), flat-footed 11, touch 13.
Hp: 12 (3d4)
Abilities:
Strength: 10 (-)
Dexterity: 16 (+3)
Constitution: 10 (-)
Intelligence: 18 (+4)
Wisdom: 12 (+1)
Charisma: 12 (+1)
Skills: Total (rank + attribute + misc)
Concentration: 6 (6)
Spellcraft: 10 (6 + 4)
Knowledge, Arcana: 10 (6 + 4)
Intimidate: 4 (3 + 1)
Tumble: 6 (3 + 3)
Ride (Horse): 6 (3 + 3)
Feats:
Daylight Adaptation, Spellcasting Prodigy*, Scribe Scroll
Saves:
Fortitude: 1
Reflex: 4
Will: 4
Languages:
Elven
Undercommon
Drow Sign Language
Common
Draconic
Dwarven
Attacks:
+2 melee (Adamantine Quarterstaff)
+2 melee (Masterwork Dagger)
+1 melee (Unarmed)
Damage:
1d6+1 (Adamantine Quarterstaff)
1d4 (Masterwork Dagger)
1d3 (Subdual, Unarmed)
Gear:
Clothes (Black clothes + black robe + black cloack (with hood) + black boots + black belt) You got the idea.
Adamantine Quarterstaff (This needs some GM ruling I know. Please?)
Masterwork Dagger (Region bonus. Sheated at left side at belt)
Bracers of Armor +1 (Black, plain adamantine bracers)
Bag of Holding (Bag 1, small (little bigger than a normal fist) black bag. Tied to belt.
-Bedroll
-5 Candles
-Flask (with water)
-Ink vial
-Inkpen
-10 Paper sheets
-10 day's worth of trail rations
-2 day's worth of horse food
-5 Waterskins
-Flint & Steel
-Spellbook (black, plain)
-2 Cure Light Wounds Potions
-61 gold pieces
-3 silver pieces
-8 copper pieces
Spell component pouch (tied to belt)
Light warhorse (no name)
-Riding saddle
Spells prepared: 4/4/2 Save DC 15 + spell level
0 level; Detect Magic, Pedigistation, Read Magic, Mage Hand; 1st level; Magic missile *2,
Shield, Shocking Grasp; 2nd level: Invisibility, Aganazzar's Scorher
Spells known:
1st level; Shield, Mount, Unseen Servant, Identify, Magic Missile, Expeditious Retreat,
Jump, Shocking Grasp, Spider Climb; 2nd level; Invisibility, Aganazzar's Scorher, Mirror Image(bought)
History/Background:
Xael's story begins from the drow city Menzoberranzan(surprise..., but it's the only drow city I know something about). He never really heard from his mother, or much more about his father, who was too busy in "wizardly affairs" that he didn't have time for his son. He was raised by wizards of the spelltower Xorlarrin, basically being their errand-boy. After some years of "apprenticeship" as they called it, he was send to visit surface with a raiding party. Because of some rule that forbids wizards from going there unless under extreme circumstances, he was supposed to make notes about the surface and collect some samples for the wizards's research, because things like that couldn't be left to the hands of the normal foot soldiers and fighters. Like they'd know anything about them, probably they would just spoil all the samples.
Surrounded by warriors and group of mercenaries, he quickly became aware of the fact that they weren't doing just some kind of a funny holiday trip. He was given a dagger for his protection, but it proved to be quite useless in the following carnage. The whole raiding party was a setup laid by other house, and when they finally got to the surface, the drow mercenaries attacked their "buddies" and slaughtered them. Fortunately, the mercenary leader didn't like killing kids much, especially if he wasn't paid to do it, so he just knocked Xael unconscious.
Xael was found by an elven woman (insert name here, I suck at making up names) who took pity on him and carried him to the small village he lived in (about 20 people). After the serious first shock of being in totally unknown place, Xael quickly found out that he couldn't make it back to Menzo. The woman, having no own children or husband, adopted him, and even the other villages quickly got used to him. After some time of learning the common language and getting used to the surface life, Xael could actually make friends easily with his "witchcraft" skills (mainly faerie fire).
Years moving ahead, Xael never really leaving the village, his ne mother started to teach him about magic (she was a wizard). He wasn't really that interested about it yet though, he enjoyed running in the fields and sitting outside in top of a large rock watching a thunderstorm more than any pretty tricks. He was quite happy and though that he didn't need any magic, as he had fun with his friends.
His happiness was shattered when first one of them died of old age.
The burial happened to be a rainy and dark day. After the burial, Xael started to spend more time looking at the skies, from the top of his personal favourite rock. He had loved the weather, no matter if it had been a sunshine or it had rained. Now, he couldn't help but think that the weather was mocking him. The days were great and full of sunlight, which he was starting to get used to.
But always when it rained, he remembered the cold grave of his friend.
He became increasingly distant, and his younger friends decided to leave him alone, thinking it just as typical sorrow. Their opinions changed when he basically locked himself in his mother's home, cutting almost all contact to the "outside world". He started studying magic whole-time, only taking break when a trunderstorm or some other "vengeage of the gods" decided to show himself. Time passed, and he had already at least as good wizard as his mother, and couldn't really learn any more home. He started talking to people again, his old friends being again really old now.
He had trouble making friends again, except for one little girl, (insert the most beatiful name you can imagine here). She had heard about Xael from his grandparents, who had already passed away, and being "naive and trustful, but full of life" (as Xael though it) she became his friend. Xael, now over 140 years old and increasingly cynical, found joy remembering his childhood while telling stories he had read about to (girl's name). The girl enjoyed his company, even though other villages thought that Xael would be a "bad example". While Xael was still bitter and a bit cynical, he began to find something enjoyable in life again.
Not much later, four adventurers arrived to the town, one of them wounded. Others decided to leave the wounded swordsman on the village to rest and go continue their mission. Xael's mother, having sensed that his son couldn't learn anything by sitting there, pleaded the adventurers to take him with them. Only the wounded swordsman giving any resistance to the thought, the others agreed to take Xael with them as a "temporary replacement". Saying goodbye to his new friend, Xael took off.
The "party" now spent time killing some goblins and doing whatever adventurers now do. After some time they found a mysterious cave, which they decided to investigate. The cave hoarded a great amount of treasure, but (naturally) there also happened to be a great (and I mean big) Red Dragon occupying it. Xael's new friends were torn to shreds or burned alive in seconds, but he managed to survive miraculoysly because of the Drows's natural spell resistance*, when the dragon used one of his spells* to a bit too devastating effect to the cave. Xael managed to flee at the ensuing rumbling and confusion.
Xael wandered back towards the village, bothered by the lack of food or water, which he didn't really know how to hunt. His mind blurred in thoughts about dying friends and fire-breathing fiends, he finally arrived at the village late night. The now recovered swordman ran to question him about his friends. Xael managed to mutter "Dead" before falling on his face to the ground and passing out. His mother carried him to her house, leaving the stunned swordsman alone with the other villagers.
By the time Xael was recovering in the second floor of his mother's house, the swordsman had apparently snapped. He started to suspect the worst, and started to rally the villagers. He blamed Xael for their deaths, and made up lies to bolster his view to the villagers, who (this generation at least) had not really seen Xael that much and thought him as a weirdo (hangs out on thunderstorms and nights, magic thingy, drow) not to be trusted. And, taken the human nature's favor towards going with the majority and crowds, the swordsman needed only to get one or two villagers to his side to get them all. The following conflict was inevitable.
The villagers, now "absolutely sure" that Xael had backstabbed or left the swordsman's friends to death, now approached his mother's house with torches and pitchforks in hand, the swordsman leading them. The swordsman entered the house and demanded that Xael's mother would hand Xael over to them to "carry out the justice". Naturally Xael's mother declined the demand, and when the swordsman tried to get upstairs, she tried to stop him. Partly reflexes of a fighter, partly on an accident, Xael's mother got a sword in her guts. Xael had just awaked and was coming down the stairs to see what the ruckus was. He came down just in time to see his mother's body hit the floor and the swordsman standing stunned at middle of the room. Xael instinctively reached for a wand (fireball) that his mother had given for his as a gift for safety.
The swordsman was blown to pieces in a second.
The willagers, horrifiedly waiting outside the now half-destroyed house, had not seen what had happened inside. When Xael stepped out of the half-ruined building, eyes glowing with fiery red fire that looked for death and revenge and a wand in his hand, their reaction was as what could be expected. "Murderer!" Xael, now being half-mad with rage, was welcomed by a band of people who accused him of murder. He had lived longer than any of them, he had known their grandfathers and -mothers.
When they attacked, he raised the wand again.
The following carnage never seemed to burn on his memory, he only remembered shooting fireballs blindly around, killing villagers and destroying buildings. When the wand's charges were out, he screamed for help. His scream was ansvered by footsteps closing rapidly behind him. Spinning around in rage, preparing to retaliate to the attack, he swooped with his black Quarterstaff (a gift from his mother again). He tried to stop the swing when he noticed who was coming.
Too late.
If he had no clear memory of the other killings of the day, he remembered the last one as clearly as a day. He remembered the horror when his staff hit the head of the little girl he had once called friend, and the crack of her skull breaking. He remembered watching as her already dead body falling to the wet ground, and the silence that followed. After screaming again for a few times and recovering his senses, Xael decided that there was nothing he could do. He was a murderer, and he couldn't stay.
He hastily ran to a house that was built few hundred feet outside the willage. He had talked with the owner about buying one of his horses, but they hadn't agreed about the price. He didn't care about the price anymore. He broke into the stall and took the horse, for some reason leaving a bag containing the sum he had offered for the horse. The horse-owner rushed out to shout after him just when he took off, riding to the night He could hear the horse-owners scream when this turned around to face the village.
A week later, after a bounty had been placed on his head and people had given him a nickname "Blackrobe", he awoke from his leep, screaming. He had seen a nightmare. And he had never saw a dream before. And would not see.
Except for the nightmares to come...
Description:
Xael is a small figure, completely dressed in black. His long, white hair is a perfect contrast is compared to anything else in him. His eyes tend to glow unnaturally brightly*, being almost on fire when he is angry. He is a bit reluctant to speak about his past that he is trying (in futile) to forget. He tends to say what he thinks of things instead of taking the long route and trying not to hurt people's feelings. He considers himself to be in the limit between sane and insane, but decides not to care about it. He couldn't care less what people think of him, it's their problem. But if they're coming to make it his problem he usually taunts them, tries to intimidate them, or as a last resort, resorts to violence. He has also developed a strange phobia towards small kids, as they remind him of the girl he killed.
*In my "normal" version of his background, the Spellcasting Prodigy is replaced by Spellfire Wielder. He uses it accidently (he doesn't know he has it) to absorb the dragon's spell, and when "overloading" blasting the cave in an accident. His eye's glow because of the spellfire.
My longest post. Ever.
