DungeonKeeperUK
First Post
Well hope its not too early to post mine, but its done so I may as well get it up (so to speak) before I forget.....
Key Phrase:
"A taste of your own medicine"
Ingredients:
A cairn on top of a hill,
A foreign coin,
"Blood is thicker than water"
It was four days before the City Guard gathered the courage to wander into the sunken barrows nestled among the swamps to the south of Mors End.
Over the past four weeks some of the low paid peat gatherers working along the edges of the marsh had moved deeper in searching for richer peat for their sales, they had reported hearing low moans and soft crying drifting across the swamp. Officials passed it off as “The mistral winds coming in over the land” or the “Keleb Toads sending out their mating calls”. The workers knew better, they knew only too well what the winds and toads sounded like, and this was neither wind like nor toad like. It was only when the workers refused to continue with their work till it was looked into further that action was taken.
A small contingent to soldiers was administered out to the swamp to take a closer look. They eventually pin pointed where the sounds were coming from, a cairn on top of a hill, erosion had not yet taken its toll on this ancient grave. Cautiously the men approached only to find a small boy nestled into the entrance to the tomb. Emaciated and shaking with his exposure to the elements he was softly crying to himself, muttering, most of it incoherent “medicine, yes medicine, a taste of your own medicine, yes taste, taste…” was all they could really distinguish.
The boy was taken back to town and to the council offices to decide what was to be done. He was given a good feed, of which he ate little, cleaned up and fresh clothes given to him but not before he frantically whisked a foreign coin out of his tattered waistcoat. When said coin was described to the merchants close to the council none recognized its strange design, circular in shape with a square cut from its centre and patterns radiating around the square. The boy was allowed to keep this and placed in an orphanage till it could be decided what could be done.
The orphanage did not suit Aaron, as he had become known, efforts were made to learn his true name but not another word passed his lips from the day he was found. A foster family was found, though Aaron was a difficult child, not in a bad way just in that he did not speak nor mix with other children finding his company the best sort.
After three years with the Turner family Aaron turned what they figured to be about age 10, he seemed to have a thirst for knowledge far out weighing his peers, always choosing books on ancient history and geography, his parents pleased to satisfy his curiosity by supplying him with tome after tome.
It’s been 6 months now since Aaron disappeared.
He left his foster parent with a surprise, a note was left for them, the only example of writing they had ever seen from him…
“Parents, for that is how I see you now, you are my family, my flesh, my blood and offered me new life with your generosity. Fear not for me in my absence, believe me I can look after myself, I have the knowledge of the generations gone before me.
There are those that have treated myself and my ancestors unjustly, I must repay a debt long over due and prove that even through the passage of time blood is thicker than water … and twice as messy.
Know that you shall be safe, trust me in this, we shall meet again. My thanks Aaron”
Aaron, for not even he knows his real name, is starting to figure that he has traveled through the annals of time to wreak vengeance on the ancestors or indeed the forefathers of those that have done his family wrong. He knows not the full details, only family names and an ingrained desire to put things to right. His powers are still weak, but are growing steadily, he feels like an old soul in a young shell; those he seeks had better take care in the future.
This may not be the truth for Aaron is an enigma unto himself, this is what he believes and the only thing he knows now, the only thing he can act upon.
Plot Hooks
o Aaron has lost his coin… some kind soul has handed it into the authorities and through a spot check of lost and found items it has been found to radiate a strong transmutation magic. It is currently being held in the university undergoing studies. Aaron wants it back and by whatever means, maybe even duping unwary adventurers into getting it for him. The coin could indeed be a powerful portal across the planes of time, or just a lump of metal with a magic cast over it to make it look otherwise...
o Aaron made his first attempt at killing “one of the unjust”. He was spotted and identified by one of the officials who first brought him into the city; the city watch is now hunting him down. His foster family, the Turners, are desperate to get to him before the authorities do, will a band of brave adventurers help a needy family looking out for their son????
o Aaron is neither from the future nor the past; he is but a young boy with special powers in his innocent soul. An innocent soul that is being used by one of the many gangs in Mors End for their own devices. A tidy sum was paid for the “necessary treatment” to implant the memories in young Aarons head and turn him against specific noble families and trade leaders, treatment that is coming undone. Aaron is becoming aware not all is right in his head, more solid memories are filtering through, something is wrong, something must be done… He remembers faces and spells, potions and "medicines" they called them and a keep, an abandoned keep, in a shady grove, but all that is hazy, clouded by his enforced insanity.
Aaron : Male Human Sor 4; Lvl 4; CR 4; Medium-size Humanoid (human); HD 4d4; hp 12; Init +1; Spd 30 ft.; AC 13 (+2 ring of protection, +1 Dex); Melee Masterwork dagger +3 (1d4/critx2), dagger +2 (1d4/critx2); AL LN; SV Fort 1 Ref 2 Will 5; Str 11; Dex 12; Con 10; Int 17; Wis 13; Cha 17
Skills and Feats: Concentration +6, Knowledge Arcana +9, Knowledge Geography +9, Knowledge History +9, Knowledge Local +9, Knowledge Nobility and Royalty +7, Knowledge The Planes +5, Listen +3,Scry +9, Spot +3; Simple Weapon Proficiency, Silent Spell, Still Spell, Alertness
Spoken Languages: Common
Possessions: Peasant's outfit, Masterwork Dagger, Dagger, Belt pouch, Belt pouch, Ring of Protection +2, Bag of tricks (gray); Money: 14 gp
Spells:
Sor 0 (Sv DC 13) Detect Magic, Light, Mage Hand, Open/Close, Prestidigitation, Read Magic
Sor 1 (Sv DC 14) Enlarge, Mage Armor, Magic Missile
Sor 2 (Sv DC 15) Alter Self
Aaron is still but a boy, but hold sorcerous powers rarely seen in a lad of his age. He stands at about 5'3" tall and weighs in at just over 100lbs, his cheeks sunken and dark rings surround his eyes his sleep being disturbed by nightmares most nights. He feels compelled to do acts, acts of vengence that deep down he feels wrong yet must be accomplished a constant battle of morals seems to play out in Aarons mind.
Well there it is done and sent.... I await your decision judges (the checks in the post guys......)
::EDIT:: Left out spoken languages and added brief description summary...
Key Phrase:
"A taste of your own medicine"
Ingredients:
A cairn on top of a hill,
A foreign coin,
"Blood is thicker than water"
It was four days before the City Guard gathered the courage to wander into the sunken barrows nestled among the swamps to the south of Mors End.
Over the past four weeks some of the low paid peat gatherers working along the edges of the marsh had moved deeper in searching for richer peat for their sales, they had reported hearing low moans and soft crying drifting across the swamp. Officials passed it off as “The mistral winds coming in over the land” or the “Keleb Toads sending out their mating calls”. The workers knew better, they knew only too well what the winds and toads sounded like, and this was neither wind like nor toad like. It was only when the workers refused to continue with their work till it was looked into further that action was taken.
A small contingent to soldiers was administered out to the swamp to take a closer look. They eventually pin pointed where the sounds were coming from, a cairn on top of a hill, erosion had not yet taken its toll on this ancient grave. Cautiously the men approached only to find a small boy nestled into the entrance to the tomb. Emaciated and shaking with his exposure to the elements he was softly crying to himself, muttering, most of it incoherent “medicine, yes medicine, a taste of your own medicine, yes taste, taste…” was all they could really distinguish.
The boy was taken back to town and to the council offices to decide what was to be done. He was given a good feed, of which he ate little, cleaned up and fresh clothes given to him but not before he frantically whisked a foreign coin out of his tattered waistcoat. When said coin was described to the merchants close to the council none recognized its strange design, circular in shape with a square cut from its centre and patterns radiating around the square. The boy was allowed to keep this and placed in an orphanage till it could be decided what could be done.
The orphanage did not suit Aaron, as he had become known, efforts were made to learn his true name but not another word passed his lips from the day he was found. A foster family was found, though Aaron was a difficult child, not in a bad way just in that he did not speak nor mix with other children finding his company the best sort.
After three years with the Turner family Aaron turned what they figured to be about age 10, he seemed to have a thirst for knowledge far out weighing his peers, always choosing books on ancient history and geography, his parents pleased to satisfy his curiosity by supplying him with tome after tome.
It’s been 6 months now since Aaron disappeared.
He left his foster parent with a surprise, a note was left for them, the only example of writing they had ever seen from him…
“Parents, for that is how I see you now, you are my family, my flesh, my blood and offered me new life with your generosity. Fear not for me in my absence, believe me I can look after myself, I have the knowledge of the generations gone before me.
There are those that have treated myself and my ancestors unjustly, I must repay a debt long over due and prove that even through the passage of time blood is thicker than water … and twice as messy.
Know that you shall be safe, trust me in this, we shall meet again. My thanks Aaron”
Aaron, for not even he knows his real name, is starting to figure that he has traveled through the annals of time to wreak vengeance on the ancestors or indeed the forefathers of those that have done his family wrong. He knows not the full details, only family names and an ingrained desire to put things to right. His powers are still weak, but are growing steadily, he feels like an old soul in a young shell; those he seeks had better take care in the future.
This may not be the truth for Aaron is an enigma unto himself, this is what he believes and the only thing he knows now, the only thing he can act upon.
Plot Hooks
o Aaron has lost his coin… some kind soul has handed it into the authorities and through a spot check of lost and found items it has been found to radiate a strong transmutation magic. It is currently being held in the university undergoing studies. Aaron wants it back and by whatever means, maybe even duping unwary adventurers into getting it for him. The coin could indeed be a powerful portal across the planes of time, or just a lump of metal with a magic cast over it to make it look otherwise...
o Aaron made his first attempt at killing “one of the unjust”. He was spotted and identified by one of the officials who first brought him into the city; the city watch is now hunting him down. His foster family, the Turners, are desperate to get to him before the authorities do, will a band of brave adventurers help a needy family looking out for their son????
o Aaron is neither from the future nor the past; he is but a young boy with special powers in his innocent soul. An innocent soul that is being used by one of the many gangs in Mors End for their own devices. A tidy sum was paid for the “necessary treatment” to implant the memories in young Aarons head and turn him against specific noble families and trade leaders, treatment that is coming undone. Aaron is becoming aware not all is right in his head, more solid memories are filtering through, something is wrong, something must be done… He remembers faces and spells, potions and "medicines" they called them and a keep, an abandoned keep, in a shady grove, but all that is hazy, clouded by his enforced insanity.
Aaron : Male Human Sor 4; Lvl 4; CR 4; Medium-size Humanoid (human); HD 4d4; hp 12; Init +1; Spd 30 ft.; AC 13 (+2 ring of protection, +1 Dex); Melee Masterwork dagger +3 (1d4/critx2), dagger +2 (1d4/critx2); AL LN; SV Fort 1 Ref 2 Will 5; Str 11; Dex 12; Con 10; Int 17; Wis 13; Cha 17
Skills and Feats: Concentration +6, Knowledge Arcana +9, Knowledge Geography +9, Knowledge History +9, Knowledge Local +9, Knowledge Nobility and Royalty +7, Knowledge The Planes +5, Listen +3,Scry +9, Spot +3; Simple Weapon Proficiency, Silent Spell, Still Spell, Alertness
Spoken Languages: Common
Possessions: Peasant's outfit, Masterwork Dagger, Dagger, Belt pouch, Belt pouch, Ring of Protection +2, Bag of tricks (gray); Money: 14 gp
Spells:
Sor 0 (Sv DC 13) Detect Magic, Light, Mage Hand, Open/Close, Prestidigitation, Read Magic
Sor 1 (Sv DC 14) Enlarge, Mage Armor, Magic Missile
Sor 2 (Sv DC 15) Alter Self
Aaron is still but a boy, but hold sorcerous powers rarely seen in a lad of his age. He stands at about 5'3" tall and weighs in at just over 100lbs, his cheeks sunken and dark rings surround his eyes his sleep being disturbed by nightmares most nights. He feels compelled to do acts, acts of vengence that deep down he feels wrong yet must be accomplished a constant battle of morals seems to play out in Aarons mind.
Well there it is done and sent.... I await your decision judges (the checks in the post guys......)
::EDIT:: Left out spoken languages and added brief description summary...
Last edited:
so I'm fine with the extension.
