Exclusive Contest! Todd Lockwood draws your character! [NO MORE ENTRIES!]

[Shadowdancer]

Thanks, Kai Lord, for doing this.

Here is my character, humbly submitted for consideration:

Arianna Flamelocks
Class: Bard
Gender and race: Female Half-Elf
Height and weight: 5'9", 135 lbs.
Eyes and hair: Green, red
Age: 38

Arianna Flamelocks is an entertainer of growing repute. She is outgoing, flirtatious, and very seductive. She is sensual, and a bit of a hedonist, with "a guy in every village." At times she can be very bawdy; at others, very serious.

She travels from place to place in search of her father, whom she has never met. He is an elven bard named Mateous Ravensclaw. He met Arianna’s mother several decades ago while performing in a far-off town. After a brief dalliance, Mateous left and never returned. Arianna’s mother used to tell her daughter stories about Mateous, his deft lute playing, and his wonderful singing voice when she was growing up. Arianna aspired to become a bard, just like her father. When her mother died from influenza six years ago, Arianna decided to set out to find her father, making a living as a bard along the way. In addition to singing, acting, and playing instruments, Arianna is a gifted dancer, juggler, acrobat, and knife–thrower.

Here is a description of Arianna from a story I wrote:

The Stone Pony was crowded for a midweek night, thought Arianna Flamelocks as she stepped upon the small wooden stage in one corner of the smoky, dimly–lit tavern. Most of the customers — stevedores and teamsters, by the look of them — were crowded around the bar, but many of the tables were occupied as well. A raucous cacophony of boisterous voices assaulted Arianna’s ears while a malodorous mixture of burning codfish oil, spilled ale, sweat, and urine assailed her nostrils. “How am I ever to compete with all this noise?” she thought. “Or keep my supper down — what is that accursed smell? It’s enough to ruin a maggot’s appetite.”

As she seated herself upon a tall wooden stool, Arianna surveyed the crowd before her. Gustin Longpike, the tavern’s massive owner, was busy behind the oaken plank bar. Arianna knew that Gertrude, Gustin’s plump wife, was in the kitchen sweating over a cauldron of stew and baking trencher loaves in the brick oven. The couple’s two daughters, Mae and Ginny, were threading their way through the unwashed masses, bustling from table to bar and kitchen, and back again, dodging the groping hands of drunken dockworkers. Hardly anyone in the place noticed the young bard on the stage preparing to perform. There was one man — an attractive elf with long black hair and violet eyes sitting by himself at a small table along one wall — who made eye contact when she looked his way, but his gaze quickly returned to the tavern door as he sipped from a pewter mug.

“He’s a handsome one,” Arianna thought, a wry smile dancing across her lips, a smile reflected by her twinkling emerald eyes. “How’d he ever wander into this jakes pit? Not that I’d mind. I would be very happy waking up tomorrow morning to see that face in bed beside me. He seems to be waiting for someone. I hope it’s not his sweetheart. Of course, no respectable man would bring his beloved to a place like this. But then, since he is in this place, who’s to say he’s respectable?”

Possessing long, muscular legs and a lithe, dancer’s body, Arianna usually attracted her share of men’s attention. Her red hair was cut short, spikey on top. Tonight her green eyes and milky skin were set off by her all–black outfit: a strapless leather bustier, tight–fitting leggings, and soft leather boots cut to come just above the knee. Hanging from each slightly–pointed ear — an inheritance from her elven sire — was a silver chain ending in a small emerald. Dangling from the thin, black leather choker around her neck was a teardrop–cut emerald. Fingerless black silk opera gloves stretched the length of her arms. While her swordbelt and rapier hung in a kitchen alcove along with her hooded cloak, a dagger with a hilt of malachite scales was tucked away in the top of her right boot, in case the audience got too rowdy.

Arianna pulled her masterwork lute, an instrument she had lovingly crafted with her own hands, into her lap and began to tune it, her long, dexterous fingers caressing the catgut strings, ivory frets, and smooth mahogany pegs. After she finished, she ran her right hand through her hair and considered her opening number. Then another smile crept across her face as she decided how she would catch the crowd’s attention. She started to pluck and strum the lute’s strings. Four glowing spheres of light swept out through the tavern, barely missing the heads of several patrons. After reaching the back of the room, the spheres reversed course and arced back to the stage, drawing the attention of almost everyone in the room to Arianna. She began to sing in a strong, confident contralto that pierced the tavern’s quickly diminishing din.

“I’m a traveling troubadour,
Selling my songs from door to door,
As I journey down the long, dusty roads.

“I sing in the bars,
And sleep beneath the stars,
And please the ostlers when their wives are asleep.”

This last line drew a menagerie of catcalls and wolf whistles from the crowd. Arianna just smiled wickedly, gave them a wink and continued with the song.

“In exchange for food,
I give them my youth,
And a song to remember me by.

“I’ll sing you a song of other times and places,
And sights you may never see.
I’ll sing you a song of other times and places,
And things you may never,
That you may never hear of again.

“For the food I can’t pay,
And I really can’t stay
Because your wife will be waking up soon.

“But before I go,
I really must show
How much I appreciate your kindness.

“So I’ll make love to you,
And when we’re through,
You can lay back and I’ll sing you a song.

“I’ll sing you a song of other times and places,
And sights you may never see.
I’ll sing you a song of other times and places,
And things you may never,
That you may never hear of again.”

Arianna began the instrumental bridge, deftly plucking the lute’s strings with the fingers of her right hand as those on the left slid up and down the neck of the instrument. She chanced a quick look at the audience; everyone seemed to be watching her intently, many nodding along to the melody. Pleased, she resumed singing.

“But before I can go,
I really must show
How much I appreciate all you’ve done.

“And for the food I will pay
If you’ll only come lay,
If you’ll come lay down with me.

“And I’ll make love to you,
And when we’re through
I’ll sing you a traveling song.

“I’ll sing you a song of other times and places,
And sights you may never see.
I’ll sing you a song of other times and places,
And things you may never,
That you may never hear of again.”

As Arianna strummed the song’s last chords, the taproom erupted in applause and cheering. She smiled again and acknowledged the crowd with a small nod of her head. As the sound began to diminish, a booming voice came from behind the bar.

“Arianna, after my Gertie goes to bed I need to talk to you about settling your tab,” Gustin said. The people standing nearest to him began to laugh.

Arianna waited for the laughter to subside, then cocked her head to one side, smiled, and said, “Don’t worry, Gustin, we’ll settle up proper later tonight. I’m dying to know why they call you Longpike.”

The crowd exploded in hoots and hollers again as Gustin’s face turned bright red. Arianna gave the crowd another dazzling smile, winked again, then started to finger the opening chords of the haunting “Circle of Stones.”

 

[A'koss]

Oh, I gotta get in on this...

Mejin A'koss

CN(G) Rogue of indeterminate level.
Age - apparant 45, actual 83
Height: 5' 11"
Weight: 170 lbs.

Description: Mejin is of Baklunish descent possessing their trademark golden skin, a perpetually stubbly 3 day old beard, blue-grey eyes and long, wavy, blue-black hair with increasing amounts of grey as the years go by... It is braided in a few areas and loosely tied in the back. As a celebrity in Greyhawk he is always attired the latest fashions mixing Baklunish elements along with current Greyhawk styles. Currently he favors his long, midnight blue coat with silver embroidery and sleeves that end at the elbow, a casual white shirt, dark, green-grey breeches and near-black boots with an inordinate amount of silver buckles to match his belt. Mejin carries with him two beautifully pattern-welded adamantine/black mithril shortswords which emit a deep violet mist-like radiance.

Mejin's most distinguishing trait however is the incredibly stylized plate armor that he wears on his left arm. It appears to be made of black iron with burnished, silver edges and ending in a talon-like guantlet. Mejin will happily tell you the tale of how he simply woke up one morning and it was there, on his arm, and curiously unremovable. Of course if you want more detail, he'll recommend you go and buy his 3 volume biography, available at all fine bookstores.

Mejin's career as the quintessential adventurer has spanned almost five decades. Bumbling from one adventure to the next, a member of no fewer than 17 different adventuring bands, his life would seem by many to be guided by the insane hand of Zagyg himself... This amuses the demigod greatly as it happens to be true.

However, that is not his only patron from on high... The strange relationship shared by the Demon Queen Lolth and Mejin A'koss can only be described as... well, it's best not to even try. The story goes something like this... many years ago Mejin was a member a skilled adventuring company called Silver... Something-or-anothers. Anyway, repelling a seemingly simple giant raid led to the band to uncover nefarious plots that involved the mysterious drow and their Spider Queen. The band was very successful following the trail deep into UnderOerth... right up until the Vault of the Drow. In a pitched battle with powerful clerics in Lolth's Temple, Mejin found himself the only survivor (again). With the drow city now on high alert, Mejin weighed his options... Yes, killing Lolth seemed the best idea.

"Word to the wise...", Mejin would say. "Even if you think you can get away with it, don't try and backstab a goddess. Really, just don't." It seems that Mejin tumbled onto the idea of leaping down from a balcony high in the grand temple, blades in hand, onto the oblivious back of Lolth's spider form. After bouncing off her impregnable carapace he found himself flat on his a.. butt staring face to face with an, albeit puzzled, Demon Queen of Spiders.

"You must be the stupidest mortal in existence."

"Well... it was either this or life as perveyor of women's shoes. I think we can both agree I made the right decision."

"..."

"Would it help any if I said I really, really hurt my bottom?"

Apparently, Lolth has a sense of humor after all. Not much more is known of what transpired between the two but several weeks later Mejin was seen riding into Greyhawk City... on the back a giant spider he named "Ick".


'nuff said.


A'koss.

 

[theyak]

Ok, this is an awesome competition, so here's a character that I'd love to be drawn.

Lord Ardel Varn, Paladin of Bahamut
Stats: Human/Silver Half-Dragon Male, Lawful Good 1 Sorcerer /9 Paladin/13 Dragon Disciple

Description: About 7'5" tall with long silver hair and glowing white eyes, and silver scaled draconic wings. Wielding an intellilligent Adamantine Mercurial Greatsword named Demonella (a long story, but in a nutshell the sword was possessed by a succubus and then atoned from it's evil ways). Currently wearing a Mithril Breastplate with a holy symbol on the front of it and wielding no other weapons. Currently has 2 Ioun Stones floating around his head (Deep Purple & Lime Green) I've always imagined the character to have a somewhat elven appearance with longish ears and an angular bone structure in the face. Also wears a Red Cloak with the symbols of Cormyr on the back in Gold.

Personality: Ardel is a force of personality in combat (sort of like william wallace in braveheart) and can turn a battle on it's head through sheer courage. Often flies into battle without worry of injury and would sacrifice his life for his companions' safety.

Background: Born and raised in a tavern resting halfway up the peaks of Cormyr, Ardel's magical talent became obvious at a young age. Sent to the War Wizards Academy, Ardel's abilities were soon shown to be lacking in power as he could not master the scholarly ways of magic. Despondent at his failure and ashamed at his perceived failure to his family, Ardel returned to the mountains of cormyr and lived in his father's tavern for the next few years. Whilst shopping wood in a nearby copse of trees, he cam across a blood trail and followed it. The trail led to the cavern of an ancient silver dragon. Whilst lacking in book smarts, Ardel was no coward so he entered the dragon's lair and curious, woke the Dragon. The dragon was angered at first but soon realized the courage the youth had shown and the two soon became friends, and they have been ever since. After years of this friendship the dragon grew weak and as his parting gift to his 'friend' he gave him a tome of lore. From this Ardel learned the ways of the Dragons and soon came to worship Bahamut. A change also started to occur to Ardel, his form was becoming more draconic over time. During an extremely harsh winter Ardel's father succumbed to pnuemonia and died, leaving Ardel to run the tavern. Travelling into the town's nearby, Ardel soon befriended some of the locals and selling the tavern, agreed to travel the lands with them. since then his powers have grown, and his draconic appearance has continued to come to the fore. In his time travelling Ardel has seen many places and fought many evils, including run-ins with the Red Wizards and the Cult of the Dragon (now a sworn enemy). Never has he shirked from danger and has sworn to defeat all enemies of Bahamut, and all that his patron stands for.

Here's an image that was recently drawn by Kip the Bold in this thread:
link

 

[muhcashin]

Tommy Oakenfire

Tommy Oakenfire male aasimar bard6

Nelia Oakenfire was archmage of no reknown. She was virtually unknown considering her power. She worked hard to keep a low profile, rarely casting any spells outside her tower in the High Forest. How did she become so powerful? Usually, most wizards earn their power and fortune while adventuring. However, Nelia never joined an adventuring party. Actually, she never joined a Faerûnian party, but was part of one for many years.

Nelia is a planewalker, and as such, she travels on different worlds seeking adventure. She spends most of her time in the Outer planes. Only when she's tired, does Nelia return to her tower.

Surprise, Nelia is not my character. I will not a play an archmage unfortunately. My character is Nelia's son, an aasimar by the name of Tommy Oakenfire. During her travels, Nelia fell in love with a celestial being, with whom she had a child. Tommy was however born on Faerûn, her mother deeming the Planes a tad bit dangerous for an infant. Nelia decided to stay on Toril most of the time, traveling back to see her lover when Martha Eavenham agreed to babysit for her. Martha was Nelia's childhood friend. Unlike Nelia, Martha chose a regular lifestyle and ran an orphanage in Silverymoon, where she took care of many half-orcish infants. Products of brutal rapes by the orcish hordes of the north.

One time, when Tommy was about a three months old, Nelia left on an adventure. She never came back. Martha stayed at the tower for several weeks and eventually returned to Silverymoon thinking that the worst had befallen her best friend. She took it upon herself to raise the aasimar babe. Martha never told him about his mother, fearing that he might one day follow in her dangerous footsteps.

Tommy Oakenfire grew to become of bard studying at the finest school of bardcraft of Faerûn, Foclucan. He fought in a few orc invasions and earned quite a reputation in the city known as the Gem of the North.

A little less than a year ago, Martha was murdered in her sleep. No one knew why anyone would kill someone like her. Tommy as he searched through is adoptive mother's things found a map to Nelia's tower. He and a bad of friends set out to find that tower only to be welcomed by the most vicious traps imaginable. For some odd reason, Tommy managed to avoid all the traps, whereas his friends were all slain. The Silvaeren bard reached his mother's library where he found literally hundreds of books on planar travel and magic. Tommy was spellbound by the notion of a multiverse, and suddenly his obssessive interest in planetravel was sparked to life. He gathered a book called "Portal's to a Another World" and a few magical gadgets he found appealing, before returning to Silverymoon. He spent a month nosing through all the tomes found in the city's library. He realised that planewalking was not very well documented, and set out to find a way to open a portal to another world.

He travels have brought him to Voonlar, where he searches for the trio known as Poison Memories. He wants the advice of the famed dwarven archwizard Thorik Ironhelm.

That's Tommy Oakenfire's background. Now onto his appearance. Being an aasimar, many of his features belong to celestials. His long shoulder length hair is of a golden silver and his eyes glow with an intense light. Other than that, Tommy is of human stature. He always has a smile on his face, even during the grimest of times. He wears very simple clothes, a wool shirt, green breetches and burgandy leather vest. Strapped to his shoulder is a mandolin, and sheathed at his side is a magical scimitar he took from his mother's tower. (I haven't really decided what its magical properties are). A unicorn head shaped token dangles from his neck. It is a Ardath ward token of Silverymoon he received for his services against three orc invasions.

Tommy's honesty and loyalty knows no bounds. He geniunely believes that all beings, even fiends, can become good, and usually strives to make people live better lives.

To satisfy his obsession with plane travel, Tommy often summon a creature via Summon Monster spell and talks to them with a Tongues spell. He has learned to speak Ignan, Celestial, Infernal and Auran.

 

[Lalato]

Okib Nirod

Wow... what a great idea...

Okib Nirod
Class and Alignment: Path Guardian (Paladin) 3, CG
Gender and race: Male Half-Orc
Height and weight: 6'2", 210#
Eyes, hair and skin: Black, Red, Gray
Age: 17

Okib is a Paladin of Deneb, The Laughing Wanderer... the goddess of travel and mischief. Paladins of Deneb are known as Path Guardians for they are protectors of all good people that travel the lonely road. Path Guardians have slightly different abilities than normal Paladins. They have an increase of +10 to movement and they gain the ability to cast spells in light armor without suffering any penalties. Okib uses a quarterstaff, a rapier, and a composite longbow.

History: (sorry if this is long)
Okib Nirod was born to an enslaved human woman who died soon after giving birth to him. Being the son of a slave... Okib, himself, became a slave to his master Argush Nirod. Okib took after his mother's striking features despite his Orcish heritage.

His master, Argush, was a devout follower of the god of pain. Argush worshipped his god with a ferocity that made many of the orcs around him nervous. Okib was often able to defuse his master, but not always. He still has scars across his back from the master's whip.

Despite the whip, Okib led a fairly uneventful life until his master bought another human slavewoman. Argush tortured this woman day and night... deriving much pleasure from it. Okib, still a boy, couldn't bare to watch the cruelty that he knew must have befallen his mother at the hands of Argush.

After one particularly violent night, Okib sneaked into the "torture" room to find the woman, Karlis, barely alive. Okib resolved to do something. He knew Argush was drunk with both pleasure and wine and would be in a deep sleep for hours... So Okib set about to cutting the woman from her restraints. It took all his 11 year old bodies strength to carry Karlis out of the house.

He was approached by guardsmen a couple of times on his walk... he would immediately look down to hide his handsome face and explain, "My master has asked me to take this trash to the northern dump. He doesn't want it rotting in his house." To which most would snicker and let him pass.

Once outside the city walls, Okib took a moment to check if Karlis was still breathing. She was, but barely. He walked for two days without sleeping, dragging Karlis along despite the fatigue. Okib gave her anything edible that he scrounged, which wasn't much. Finally, he collapsed at a little roadside shrine to a goddess of which he had never heard.

He dreamt that night of happiness and laughter. In his dream he and Karlis were seated at a table with another woman. The woman had an infectious laugh that made him laugh. The laughing woman's form was everchanging. Sometimes she was fat, sometimes thin, sometimes old, sometimes young. Karlis sat beside him laughing hysterically at the changing woman.

When he awoke his stomach felt full, and Karlis felt good enough that he no longer had to carry her. Karlis thanked the goddess Deneb for her kindness... and they were off.

Karlis informed Okib, that the laughing woman was the goddess Deneb, and she had saw fit to help them in their sleep. Okib thought it strange that a goddess would actually do something nice for him. He had never heard of such a thing in Sossal... and this affected him deeply.

After two weeks of travel... avoiding orcs along the way, they finally made it to a small human village. A local took them in for a few days. Karlis was from Onoroth, and she longed to go back home, but Okib wasn't sure that his destiny lay with Karlis. He wanted to know more about Deneb. He knew his life and Deneb would somehow intertwine.

Okib agreed to travel with Karlis to Onoroth, but only because he wanted to visit the temple of Deneb there. One of the villagers had told Okib that the main temple of Deneb was far to the north, west of Minoth.

Once in Onoroth... Okib marveled at the city's temples. He had never seen such beauty. Okib stayed with Karlis and her family for a few days, but despite Karlis wishes that he stay with her, Okib went to the small temple of Deneb to seek his destiny. There the acolytes of Deneb instructed him that a Path Guardian was leaving for the main temple in a fortnight. In those two weeks before his journey, Okib learned a lot about Deneb. The more he learned the more he knew his destiny was set.

The way was long and hard, but the journey with the Path Guardian, Fae Leus, was always a joy. It took them nearly a year to travel the distance, mostly because Fae Leus was prone to taking detours... always exploring roads she had never traveled. Though, Okib was very anxious about it at first... he eventually warmed to life on the road with Fae. She was always helping travelers along the way. There were a few times, however, Okib thought they were never going to to see the temple of Deneb.

At the temple, the acolytes were very intrigued by Okib's tale of the dream at the roadside shrine. Okib was given a choice at the temple... Acolyte or Path Guardian. He asked how often acolytes traveled the open road vs. Path Guardians. Path Guardians, of course, won hands down. Okib has been a devoted follower of Deneb ever since.

Okib gained most of his experience as a Path Guardian helping refugees from Minoth, where minions of the Blood Lord Shah have taken control, make their way south and west to other cities. The Blood Lord Shah would not be feasting on these poor travelers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If you want to see this character's stats and equipment... here is a link to the character sheet...

http://3ep.rpgprofiler.net/3ep/public.php?c=OkibNirod

--sam

 

[Robbert Raets]

Well, you've got my attention. I'll post Kapitein Lucas Nieuwenhuyzen later this week. I can only reveal at this time that it involves a bad-mouthed ship and a Monkey Familiar.

 

[catdragon]

Taer

Taer is a young human exploring the world of Greyhawk and enjoying the wonders he finds whereever he goes. Currently his sister Angelora has talked him in to helping the dwavers of the Duchy of Ulek against the humanoids of the Pomarj.

Taer is shaved bald. He takes the time and care to make sure his head is clean of all hair each day as part of his mediatations. His eyes are a crystal blue and he has a prominent aquiline nose. A smile is the usual expression on his face. However, in battle, Taer becomes deadly serious. he knows that each battle may be his last, or worse, one of his friends' last, and he is determined to do anything and everything to keep his comrades from harm.

His skin is a dark tan, colored that way partly by his racial heritage but also by the amount of time Taer spends outside doing physical activity. He usually dresses in light colored (usually pinks and whites) robes. Clenched around his waist is a dark red belt, a symbol of his mastery in the martial arts taught by the monks of the Crane. One of Taer's arm is tattooed with a flying crane, its head towards his fist. His other arm has a tattoo of a snake coiled around it, its head on the back of Taer’s hand. When adventuring, or in a place where he doesn't want to stand out, Taer wears a white tunic, open in the front and tucked into a wide leather belt. Calf-high leather boots with a turned over cuff complete his outfit.

Bobby Nichols
=============================================
I don't make jokes. I just watch the government and report
the facts.
Will Rogers, Saturday Review, Aug. 25, 1962
==============================================

 

[Piratecat]

Kai Lord, this is a wonderful thing.

I'm going to make this thread sticky for this week, to give people time to see it; then I'll unstick it, and trust that people's entries keep it buoyed. In the mean time, I'm giving you an honorary Community Supporter account as a way of saying "thanks" for giving back to the community. Let me know what you'd like for a custom title!

 

[Magic Rub]

Gratis
Archmage - Male Sun Elf
Alignment: Neutral Evil

Physical appearance;
Gratis is a handsome elf, stern & intelligent looking. Piercing golden eyes & long blond hair, creatively interlaced with intricate braids, give Gratis what some have called in the past "the look of a noble". His otherwise handsome visage is presently marred by but one flaw (however Gratis considers it very striking). A twisted & barbed silver head band of intellect which seems to grow forth from his temples. This specially constructed ominous piece of jewellery has been magically grafted to Gratis's skull, a sinister artificial birthmark & crown the same.
He sports 3 visible magical tattoo's, beautiful calligraphic works he has created & enchants daily. The first 2 are nearly identical in appearance, (outwardly visible only on his forearms due to dress) and each run from the tips of his middle finger, up the length of his arm, ending at the shoulders. The third begins just above his navel & runs up his torso until it reaches his neck at which point it splits in two, circling like a necklace in the front, then arcing up on the side(s) of his neck to finish behind each of his ears.
The archmage is generally seen as a loner, often ditching the members of his party when in more public settings. However Gratis is almost never alone. His faithful Imp familiar Heccubus is always sitting (normally invisible) on his shoulder. Those who know & have met Heccubus fear him. Not due to Imp's powerful master, but because of the small black devil's own formidable talents. This twisted winged taste of hellfire is fiercely protective of Gratis & Gratis alone, turning on any and all who attempt to do His master harm.
Gratis's tends to dress for function & utility, rarely for aesthetics. Spell component bandoleers, high black suede boots, trousers (no pockets), white tunics (generally with the sleeves rolled up), dual black gloves of storing, & a cloak of the arachnid comprise his typical dress. Cleanliness is paramount, and some rightfully say obsessive, for Gratis. Everyday without fail he spends 1 hour in the morning & before bedtime magically cleaning himself, & his familiar. Then mending even the smallest of imperfections from his garments. Gratis consumes only magically created food & drink (which was a HUGE pain when he was a low level character).

Persona/character traits/history:
A Paranoid schizophrenic, obsessive compulsive, megalomaniac, bigot, with aspirations of world domination (the forgotten realms). Spending most of his hours advancing his arcane might through study & obsessive practicing, testing, & experimenting, has made him anything but sociable. He is blunt & to the point, not prescribing to the normal verbal social niceties of "normal" people. Telling you what he wants directly, & rarely smiling. He loathes the touch of other beings, with the sole exception of Heccubuss, & is a self professed 137 year old virgin.
Gratis is a confident elf with a high, & in fact overdeveloped self esteem, "Elminster is an Idiot", but is in constant fear for his life, convinced that it will end before his will is made reality. Gratis spends countless hours not only devising his plans for world domination, but his plans for self-protection in every respect of the word.
He loathes(!!!!) all Sorcerers & Psionics, as they are nothing more then lazy, doing little to gain a power which he constantly toils to increase & maintain. This hatred is equally strong for "half breed" races, such as Half-orcs, & Half-elves. Gratis has an on going smear campaign/propaganda war to spread his "justified" views across the realms, in a hopes that one day all peoples may see 'the/his' truth about the noted infidels & ingrates.
Despite his darkness & hatred Gratis is hard to anger/enrage, & most often holds a level head under pressure.


_______________________


Here's my submission. This is a great idea for a contest, I love Lockwood's art. I know my character's not very politically/morally correct, but he has been very interesting to play, & very hard at times. Making choices that, even though it's just 'imaginary, I personally feel guilty for (strange I know).
O.K. enough of my rambling. Good luck to everyone, the prise is very cool.

 

[Clain MacFaileas]

Xagunder MacFaileas, Esq.

A tall man in his early sixties, Xagunder has used his necromantic powers to keep himself fit for adventuring (and ruggedly handsome, if he does say so himself). Cocky and sure of himself, his overlarge mustaches are his pride and joy (and the fact that he shaves his head so no one can tell he's beginning to bald makes them that much more prominent).

A self made noble, Xagunder is always clad in the latest fashion, save for one. He is never seen, whether at the richest princess' birthday party or in the dankest of dragons' dungeons without his kilt. Wool, and of the purple, green, and black tartan of his clan, Xagunder's kilt makes him stand out wherever he travels.

Beyond his expensive clothes, Xagunder packs light for adventuring. On his forearms he wears a pair of magical bracers (which provide him with a fear aura as well as protection from level draining undead). Numerous knives filled with lawful magics adorn his person, and he always carries his "walking stick" (an iron rod of artifact power with three flanges at its top).

Necromancer, fop, adventurer, curmudgeon, and man-about-town, Xagunder is the very image of civility with the civilized and the very wrath of arcane magic with those who would try to bring society down.