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[Son_of_Thunder]

I present to you....

Around 6th level an unmemorable character of mine took a dirt nap. I decided to roll up my first non-human paladin.

Talanthas Blackoak was a male Silvanesti Elven Paladin of Paladine (I know, rolls off the tongue doesn't it...shya!). Talanthas wasn't born in the right social class in Silvanesti Society. My rat bastard Dm caused Talanthas much grief over my role-playing experience with that. But Paladine had chosen him and taught Talanthas that all good peoples needed protecting, not just elves.

Talanthas was 5'4", light brown hair and green eyes. He had the fine bone structure of the elves but with sun browned skin instead of the usual pale. He had a well defined muscular frame and wore elven chain mail. Despite the rules from 1e Unearthed Arcana I ran him as using a longbow. Elf, longbow, seems good. I also used a two-handed sword as a melee weapon.

My most memorable moment with Talanthas was in the adventure from Mists of Krynn that involved reclaming the Silvanesti homeland. There was one encounter fighting the souls of Silvanesti who had been corrupted and having another group of Silvanesti adventurers interfere. There was some tense role-playing between the leader of the other party, a highly snobbish Silvanesti Ranger and myself. Things were smoothed out but the DM had a female Silvanesti Wizard of the White Robes take a liking to my character, which cheesed off the snobbish Ranger even more, as she was betrothed to him or something.

He ended up challenging me to a dual after the current pleasantries were solved but he took a dirt nap while still in Silvanesti, sacrificed himself really, noble of him.

Son of Thunder

 

[jerichothebard]

Calai RedLeaf

Calai RedLeaf (Caliban) is the last son of a doppelganger family, orphaned when his parents were killed in a fire... that was unintentionally set by him. Nearly killed in the blaze, he was saved when his father - already ablaze himself - threw him from a window to the ground below. Nearly dead from the burns and fall, he was saved and adopted by the clan of flame mages called to extinguish the blaze. They realized he had set the blaze, not with a dropped candle, as all thought, but with the power of his mind. In him, they recognized the potential for power... and for destruction.

Caliban grew up knowing nothing of his origin or race, believing himself to be an elf, as that was the last identity his family had assumed. The terrible events of his youth created a mental wall, which prevented him from accessing his telepathic and morphic powers. He also developed an obsession with fire, and an intense dislike of water.

Rejected by the other elven children for his ugliness and lack of family, Caliban has always felt himself an outsider. A few years after leaving the Flamecraft Academy, drunk on cheap moonshine, he commisioned a tattoo that would mark him on the outside as he felt on the inside. A dragon, talons digging into the flesh of his back, perched on his lower ribs, spreads its wings across his shoulders, as its serpentine neck coils around his to his face, where the head of the dragon shares an eye with its bearer. Interestingly, the tattoo artist he paid to do the work was inept at best, but the tattoo is beautiful - a subconscious product of his latent doppelganger powers.

Typically, he wears no shirt, black leggings with many pockets, a belt with spell component pouches, and in cold weather, a robe the colors of flame. He has no hair, and his eyes are coal black, with the light of flame reflected in them, even when it isn't apparent from where. He is somewhat more muscular than typical of an elven mage, and his pale skin is often somewhat stained with soot. He smells of smoke, and when sitting near a campfire, the smoke is usually drawn in his direction.

He carries the WyrmStave, a staff carved of a single piece of bloodwood, in the shape of a dragon, mouth open, with continual flame jetting from the mouth. He carries as well a Silver Sphere of dimension door, a baseball-sized orb that transports its thrower to the point of its landing (not terribly powerful, but really useful).

In addition to his skill with flames, he is also a master woodcarver and crafter of magic items. The staff is his work, and has the ability to cast most of the usual flame-based spells.

Caliban is well on his way to completing the Elemental Savant prestige class, emphasis fire.


Notable Exploits:
Caliban has recently been an (unwilling) visitor to the City of Pirate's Haven. Used by several bands of pirates, and reachable only by the use of magical astrolabes, this city is located on an island in a bubble in the Elemental Plane of Water.

The city proper is the subject of an epic-level Sanctuary-type spell, which prevents both physical and magical violence to all within the walls. Any who attempt to perform violence within the boundries of the spell are immediately paralyzed. (The city guards carry rings that bypass the spell, and rods of doing lots of subdual damage)

Caliban has begun to worry the guards quite a bit, as being in a city surrounded on all sides by water is beginning to get the best of him. His temprement, never more than dour, has begun to turn downright nasty. In several recent altercations, he has just about gotten a fireball spell through to completion. In fact, the flaming bead has been fully formed at least once between his hands, and required a mage to dispell it before he could be revived.


Caliban has one rank of Swim, courtesy of an elder water elemental and a well-meaning but not-yet-forgiven companion.


Caliban recently discovered his true race, as he was slain by a high-level chain lightning, reverted to his natural state, and was resurrected as such. The resulting emotional turmoil has broken the mental wall, and he is learning of his true heritage and the associated powers. In the midst of an identity crisis, he turned to the elementals who have long been his solace. Unable to understand his upset, they unintentionally offered great wisdom: as beings of essence, they never saw him as an elf, or as a man, or a doppelganger - they saw him as the distillation of his power and person, and this hasn't changed.


He is now debating about which path to follow: the path of the flame mage, leading to elemental perfection, or the path of his ancestors, leading to great psionic power. He still prefers his elven form, and is uncomfortable assuming other roles - particularly female.


Thanks!

jtb

 

[A'koss]

Grenloke

WAR is my current favorite D&D artist - I must get in on this. My first two are going to be the same characters I submitted during the last contest but I will be posting a third from a more recent campaign later on. So without futher ado...

Grenloke

"Trust me. I'm probably the nicest wraith-like, undead entity composed entirely of ash you're ever going to meet."
- Grenloke, while being rousted by some visiting paladins new to Greyhawk City...

N(G) formerly human Fighter/Rogue/etc..
Age: apparant 39, actual 116 (52 of which spent dwelling in a limbo-like state on the Plane of Ash)
Height: originally 5' 11", now 6'-ish.
Weight: originally 189 lbs, now... pretty light.

Description: If you didn't know him, you'd probably be reaching for your holy symbol right about now... Most of the time, Grenloke likes to appear as human as possible - a ~6' well-toned man wearing dark, grey-blue breeches, soft boots with norse-like wrappings, an almost midnight blue shirt with simple gold embroidery and a pair of ornate blue and gold metallic bracers that cover most of his forearms that taper to a spike-like protrusion past the elbow. However the snazzy attire does little to disguise the fact that Grenloke is comprised entirely of a slightly warm-grey colored ash. He is able to alter his color slightly to give himself more "definition" as he calls it, making his "hair" and his "eyes" darker and other features (like his teeth) lighter. His surface features seem smooth, but they are constantly swirling with numerous eddies playing along it's surface. There seems to be a constant low-to-the-ground cloud of ash that follows wherever he goes which makes dusting around the office a real pain. Grenloke's shoulder-length hair just seems to stream away from his head ending in whispy trials as he moves. He does nothing to disguise his nature, relying on his reputation and disarming charm to get him through "the little foibles of life". Barring that, he's still one of the foremost fighters of his age though he always aims to disarm and disable unless the attacker is clearly evil.

Weapons: His little "accident" on the Plane of Ash destroyed most of the items he owned at the time, but one item did survive... albeit somewhat altered. He normally carries it around as a simple ashen staff with a lot of surface irregularities which reveal a dim green misty glow. In battle, he can alter it's shape into any weapon desired, though he creates an ornate, oversized glaive-like weapon. It has the power to cleave through dimensional barriers creating temporary portals with virtually pinpoint accuracy in regards to the destination.

Brief History: Grenloke is currently the proprietor of a transplanar travel service called... well, he never really gave it a name so people just ended up calling it Grenloke's Transplanar Travel Service. He and eclectic planar staff offer Safe(ish) Planar tours, Accurate Planar Portals, Search & Rescue services (pricey), Planar Travel Advice and Workshops, and so on. His office has a number of stable portals leading to places like Sigil, the Astral, the Plane of Fire and a deceptively random (and possibly intelligent) one which is locked and barred. The latter being the portal that dumped him into a divinely powered, magically abberrant region of the Plane of Ash for over 50 years and the cause of his uncurable "condition".

Though while on the surface, Grenloke treats his undeadish state as source of endless party tricks, deep down he is very concerned. There was an incident several years ago, while on a rescue mission to save a band of adventurers trapped in the Grey Waste, which ended with a pitched battle against a pack of arcanaloths. It was a desperate fight which ended when Grenloke instictively lunged at the Aracanaloth' leader after being disarmed by a powerful spell. Instinctively, he used a power he never consciously knew he possessed - Life Draining. It was like suddenly being alive again... even more than being alive, it was like being a god. However, seeing the horror on the dessicated arcanaloth's face and the unbridled joy of the experience... he knew there were no heroes that day, only monsters.

To this day Grenloke is haunted by the fear of losing control and becoming a horror worthy of the Abyss... and it is a fear he feels will one day be inevitable. However, he has taken steps to assure that if he turns, that he will be dealt with. He has secretly paid a huge sum to powerful assassin's society called The Garrote to put him down should he turn to evil and is unable to do so himself. Only one memeber in his employ is aware of the deal and Grenloke has given her detailed information on himself, how he thinks, and tactical advice to give to the Garrote should the time come.

The moment: I'd love to see Grenloke during one of his planar tours gone wrong rescuing a bunch a frightened sages from a Blood War horde. A "flowing" Grenloke tearing through a group of powerful demons with his glaive and long ash-taloned hand all the while waves of ash dancing about the landscape would be very cool. Maybe one of his associates would be giving one of the overly inquisical sages a comical boot through the portal back home.



Cheers!

A'koss.

 

[Son_of_Thunder]

Easy access

Go Away Shoo Get Away From My Chickens by hiryuu

Ignacio Vite by ltclnlbrain

Lendri Brighthoopak by Salad Shooter

Talinthas Shadeslayn by talinthas

Klattu M. by demiurge1138

Futhark & Malgrym Dwarven twins by Krieg

Aeric Bannier Paladin of Haelyn and Lord Protector of Roesone by Aeric

Nom-Kal-Tash (Kalashtar Psion[shaper] 5) by lior_shapira

Perry and Mipin Halfling Twins by Tetujin

Kristobar Chelton (Forgotten Realms) Cleric 5/Paladin 3 of Torm by reveal

Antaros Dlardrageth a.k.a. Antar Nimesin (Forgotten Realms) by KaeYoss

Lamothius Silvanesti elven Wizard by Son_of_Thunder

Tyvek Ascalhorn Rider of Khur by Son_of_Thunder

Zy'Quorlan and Kelowan Irda by Son_of_Thunder

Sir Val of Delphis by Mokona

Talanthas Blackoak Silvanesti Elven Paladin by Son_of_Thunder

Calai RedLeaf by jerichothebard

Grenloke by A'koss

Verions of the Ancient by KaeYoss

Uhger (Arthur Teilmon) by spigadang

Tasc A lean, hairless, yellow-skinned, cannibalistic elven merc... who sings? by am181d

Althaine Catthier by Dacileva

Lyzelle of Joramy by Eric Anondson

Charlton Vader'ixmusala by Zebster

Jadrek Falco by Arc

Kerad Dyilf by DarkSoldier

Jack Skellington by demiurge1138

Bruno by Tetujin

Miriella Nightbreeze Half-Elven Cleric of Paladine by Aeric

AYDIA RIEVER FEMALE ELVEN WIZARD by Aeric

Lyrael, half-elf bladesinger by Zappo

Laurel Sylvan Oakenblade by carpedavid's fiancee

Mejin A'koss by A'koss

Arel of Nareldyr by A'koss

Kosh by Ghostwind

Laroo Manisaun by Mighty Halfling

Pulchra by Chrysalis

Berandor Marikulis, Dragonslayer Paladin by Berandor

Leif Vignirsson by LeifVignirsson

Talun Swiftbrook by Son of Thunder

Tynian Lorcan by Son of Thunder

Signoré Derril Maddon by Felix

Parys Dayl by Parys Dayl

Milo Yurinov (AKA "Healinov" AKA "Dimitrious Healinov") by Estlor

Moonhawk by Dragonhelm

Krellick Chergoba by Rawwedge

Hazmi, the Mighty, a.k.a. Hazmi, the Dragon by Menexenus

Taurian the Black (The Black Bull) by ivocaliban

Quickleaf by Quickleaf

Jaran Enverness by Eosin the Red

TOMI SUZUME, HENGEYOKAI (SPARROW) ROGUE/NINJA SPY by Ogre Mage

Farzin Ad-ar'Sham Abu.....or, just Ar'Salan by Ar'Salan

Cyriss - of the Fated by Oryan77

Stormrunner by Stormrunner

Efrim MacGregor by Krail Stromquism

Gertie by Micah

Cash by valeren

Wikanby by Whizbang Dustyboots

Raloc by Raloc

Ta'Vanka by MrFilthyIke

Ve'sadriphe Mahkeyl by MrFilthyIke

 

[A'koss]

Would someone be so kind as to point me to the thread of the last contest?

Thanks!

 

[Kae'Yoss]

And another one from me:

Verions of the Ancient. (FR again)

Again, first the rules-stuff. Elan Kineticist (Psion) 13, Al N, Str 8, Dex 10, Con 14, Int 21, Wis 13, Cha 12 (without items). Major items: Headband of Intellect +6, Sage Psicrystal. 5 Knowledge Skills with +21 or more.

Although Verions appears as a human in his twenties, he's neither as human or as young as he seems: About 5000 years ago (shortly before the rise of Netheril), a group of Oghma-Worshipping arcanists, priests and psionicists created a cabel whose task it was to preserve - and collect - knowledge, and experiences. They intended to stay around for a long time, but weren't keen on turning themselves into undead, as most undead became quite mad over the time, which would defeat their purpose. Instead, they found, deep within the astral plane, instructions on a ritual that would strip the humanity from the target creature and turn it into a being of psionic power - the race known as elan. This race could use psionic energy to heal, protect and sustain itself, and their body would not age at all. To prevent the insanity brought by centuries of experience and knowledge, the ritual that turns someone into an Elan would strip the recipient of most of his knowledge - only a select choice of memories and abilites would remain with the character, the rest would be transferred to a device called the Nexus of Knowledge, which would serve as the cabal's library. This ritual could be repeated as often as one wishes, transferring the excess knowledge every time and giving the target a fresh start.

One of the cabal was verions, back then a loremaster of Oghma. over the centuries and millenia he walked many an adventurer's path - wizard, sorcerer, warmage, psion of just about every discipline, wilder, even soul knive, as well as some weirder careers. Every time he thougt he reached the zenith of his power, transcending the normal boundries of power, he'd return to the Nexus to surrender his experiences and memories and start another career.

His current incarnation is that of a kineticist and knower of things. He appears as a human in his twenties, of moderate height and wight, with brown eyes, black hair and white skin. He wears robes that seem to have gone out of fashion aeons ago (which indeed they have). Besides psicraft, he is very learned in all things arcane, religious, psionic, and concerning the planes and history. Besides priding himself to know the answer to most questions about his chosen topics, he uses his knowledge to discern the strengths and weaknesses of his enemies and plan his strategy accordingly. He doesn't engage an enemy without a proper strategy, but he's quite capable or forming such a strategy within moments.
Besides verious mind-over-energy powers which are the bread and butter of a kineticist, he knows several powers to protect and heal himself, to tear down the supernatural defenses of his enemies, or to reduce his enemy to dust. He can also use his psionics to understand every language known and see things as they really are, he can use his mind to move matter in a rather abrupt fashion, and he can take control of not only the mind of the enemy, but even of his very body. His most powerful psionic trick is a brief glimpse into the future, which can be the difference between life and death - and has been in more than one occasion.
He can manifest his psionic powers in rapic succession, even two at once, and has no problem concentrating even in the thick of battle.

Verions doesn't care much about good and evil, or law and chaos, if you want, his sole concern is the preservation of knowledge (though he won't stand idle while innocents come to harm and he could prevent that). While more conventional heroes make enemies of those who enslave and slaugter people, Verions concerns himself with those who would destroy knowledge or keep the public in the dark. His most recent enemies were the Nilshai, a weird alien race of sorcerers who sought to eradicate the star elven race in their home plain of Sildeyuir - obliterating the mithral elves knowledge without hope of retrieval.

In one spectacular duel he managed to take out several nilshai as he stripped one of his confidence (and ability to cast spells) while at the same time reducing another to a mere trace of fine dust, then he mentally dominated of the most powerful of the remainding ones, turning it against its peers, and finally he took over a powerful undead giant bodyguard - gaining manual control of its limbs rather than mind, fatally surprising its master who thought undead were beyond a psions power.

 

[spigadang]

Uhger (Arthur Teilmon) from Kuntos (a home grown world)
Age 30 Alignment CG
Race Half Ogier Class barbarian 9 Fighter 4 Rouge 3
7 feet 2 inches Key skills ranks Painting 21 sculpting 23
355 lbs

Arthur was a by-product of a very horrible time in His mama’s life. She was a younger Human mage, Shari, who was sent to be apart of a diplomatic mission to the elven kingdom. There she fell in love with a younger elf artisan named, Ellestran. Who was from a minor house. So she looked forward to going to the elven kingdom very much. But one day while traveling Her caravan was attacked by a tribe of ogier. The female were taken and the males were killed. When the diplomats did not show up the elf got worried and sent out a group of rangers. They tracked down and killed most of the Ogiers but a few got away. When they arrived, Shari was very much change as a person. She was once a fun loving beauty, now she was very quiet and to her self. No one knew why until 4 months later. There she started to show the signs of being with a child. She had to tell Ellestran that the Ogiers d her. He looked into her eyes and told her “ I still love you and will love our child.” The made her the happiest woman alive. They lived in the elven village for a few years but saw that it was hard on all 3 of them. It was hard on Shari to live among the elf that were all grace and beauty but they looked at her as it was something she did. For Ellestran it was hard for soon the people he lived among for hundreds of years were now colder and distant. For Arthur it was hard for he was always the blunt of all the jokes and pranks. So they moved out just outside of the village. There he learned to love nature and most importantly art. Soon he forgot all the tricks and mean things the young elves did to him. He was a happy child pure and good. All that changed when he was in his late teens. Why Arthur was out with his mother and the man he called father, they were on a boat just enjoying time with each other. A terrible storm came and destroyed the small boat. Arthur woke up on the beach in his mother’s arms. She had tried to protect him from the storm. His father was a few feet from him. They were both . He knew not where to go. He took them home and took some marble to sculpt in to an angel to watch over them when he buried them. He left home and traveled for a few years.

On this trip is where he learned his new name. Uhger. For where ever he went the town people who scream and yell, OGIER!!!!! Arthur was not too bright and he believed them to call him Uhger. So wherever he went he was shunned and chased out. A lot of time he was luck to have his life with him. He longed to return to the time where he was with his mama and father. Where he was loved. (This part might be hard to believe but it was how he was in the place to join the PCs.) He was traveling he found an old portal to the seven hells. While admiring the art on the portal he unknowing activated it. He was now a scared little boy with out his mama in hell. For a week (prime time) he was in hell. Until the greatest gift came to him, they were a group of good adventurers. They were Darv, the mage, Listra, his wife and cleric, Aeole, a mage % C Galbrial, a psionisist, Malkir an, elf archer, Falhtu, a centaur fighter, and the woman who would become the love of his life, Abigail, the Paladin of Hepitoc (the LG god of this world like Torm but is also the god of the sun). They saw that he was a good kind soul and he went with them. Unknown to him, they were going to take the ability to teleport from s. He was out leveled but he was a very important piece to the mission. When the party got to the lair of the with the talisman that was needed to be taken away, the party was ambushed. Every one was fighting s and Uhger saw Abby go after this one and as she reached for the talisman she was killed. This truly sadden him, so he went after the and took the talisman from the . As Uhger tossed the talisman to Malkir, he went from 63 hp to –42 and died in hell. The party then left and took the ability to teleport from the s. As their reward, they were given a wish and they wished for Abby and the ogier back to life. From then on He had a group of friends but to him it was a family.

He soon became the local artist for the church of Hepitoc . He followed him blindly. For two reasons, one Hepitoc was the one who brought him back to life and second he is the god of Abby. He helped go the art for many of the churches in the area. He always had time though to do art for Abby and to go on adventures with his family. Soon he feel in to a recurring role. Whenever Abby was attack he would take all the AOO against himself, just to save her. Even though she is about 4 levels higher then himself. He even died 3 other times because of this habit. Soon He grew tried of adventuring for to him ,even though he is a great fighter with many magic weapons and goodies, so he left to the main contant and started to spread the word of Hepitoc and the other gods of his new home. He did this all for one reason and I will let you guess….. yes that is right all for Abby. He started to think in his older age if his mama and father believed in the elf gods and Abby believed in Hepitoc, when he truly died he would only be with one of them not both. ( they live on different planes) This truly made Uhger sad. Even though he knew Abby would and could never love a ugly artist like himself, he wanted to be there with her in heaven. So he left with out telling many where he went. He only told Listra ,the Cleric of Vahalla ( the of art and beauty) and maybe the only one of his family who understood Uhger and his love for Abby and art. So he sold almost all of his equipment and took the 45,000 gold and sent 6 years in a forriegn land building a church to Hepitoc and Vahalla. ( I picture it much like Michelangelo and his Sistine Chapel). He did this all so he could be with Abby in the afterlife, knowing he many never see mama again. But he received word that Abby is now stuck in the seven hells ( yes, my DM likes the hells and traveling the planes). So he came back to save her one last time. He sold his ring of spell turning for gold to get things that will be needed, and for one thing for Abby. They traveled back to hell and there she was a perversion of her true self. She was now evil but even though this was true Uhger never gave up. The party proceeded to break the enchantment on her and took her back home. After a few days of rest Uhger knew it was time to go back to his chapel so he asked Abby to come with him for a little while. And as he has done many times before he told her how he felt but this time he told her he knew how she felt and knew she could not love him. He told her that is why he loved her some much and so loudly . He loved enough for the both of them . He told her where he was and why he left. He gave her the gift he got from selling his ring of spell turning. It was a Claddagh ring made of platinum and with gold outline of the heart and a red ruby heart in the center. He told her he will forever be waiting for her in the new chapel he made. And then he left. Knowing she would never come. Knowing he would be alone. But that is the lot in life for Uhger. Loving when there is no chance for being loved in return. But he would not have it any other way.

Arthur never saw himself as a hero from the stories his mama told him but he did see his friends like this. He is a Very tall man with very ogier like features in his face.Yet sometimes he looks very childlike. He has long black hair with green eyes. But you can look in to his eyes and see he never would commit an evil act. He has two small tusks coming out from the bottom jaw. He is very muscular and scared from the many battles he has been in. Most of his scars on his hands and he always seems to have some paint left over on his hands that he never get completely off. When in battle he has a suit of +3 full plate (given to him by Hepitoc) that he makes sure is clean and shinny, he fights with a very large scimitar of speed he got from fighting Miska. He also as a part of the Rod of seven parts has the Wind dukes chariot that can take people to other planes. Other then that he has sold everything to ether save Abby or to fund his chapel. He is world renown for his painting and sculptures that people say if no one is looking come to life. ( this is very untrue, for Uhger has watched them for many days before just to see)

I hope you all enjoyed the story of Arthur (Ugher) and by they way none of his friends know his real name.

 

[am181d]

A lean, hairless, yellow-skinned, cannibalistic elven merc... who sings?

(Apologies for link. The, um, song took up a lot of space.)

Tasc is a lean, hairless, yellow-skinned elf, with blood red cat's eyes and a snarl full of razor sharp teeth. Tasc bares a red slash tattoo over his left eye and a jagged hook piercing each earlobe. He walks with a crouch--coiled--always ready to strike.

Tasc wears a ratty brown coat over a sparkling mithril shirt. His belt is thick leather, loaded with compartments, both visible and concealed. He wears a pair of bulky, blood-stained spiked gauntlets.

His boots are enchanted to augment Tasc's natural speed and agility, but more importantly, they allow him to walk along walls and on ceilings, where he often hangs in wait for his enemies.

Tasc only carries one weapon, a double-bladed sword that contains the aspects of two legendary, anarchic weapons of antiquity, "Hellscorcher" and "Deathchill." Hellscorcher burns with a dark fire. Deathchill eminates a spectral cold. The hilt between them is wrapped in black leather and follows a subtle s-curve.

***
Tasc's earliest memories are of murder and destruction. Nomadic Giant marauders tore through his town of birth, Aerallia-in-the-Shadow-of-Sardith, and razed it to the ground. His parents, his family, his past, were all burnt to ash and scattered to the winds.

Tasc, the only survivor of the carnage, was taken as a slave by the Giants. For decades, they raised him as an animal and fed him the flesh of their enemies.

When the Giants' clan was finally defeated by a cavalry of Men at the Battle of Erden Og, none of the soldiers knew what to do with their feral elf child, so they brought him to the caretakers of the nearby Witchwood Asylum.

The Mad Doctors of Witchwood had no interest in curing Tasc. To them, he was nothing more than an oddity to be studied. Between tortures, they encouraged his wild impulses, letting him free to hunt, kill, and devour the other inmates.

Eventually, Tasc turned against his captors, killing and eating half the staff before he was finally locked back into his cell. The Doctors decided that Tasc had become too dangerous, so they sold him to the Slavers of Astia.

In Astia, Tasc was branded with the mark of the Fighter-Slave and forced to fight in the gladiator games. He fought viciously, but lost frequently. The Slavers kept Tasc alive, because the crowd enjoyed watching him fight. And Tasc enjoyed fighting.

Tasc survived long enough to find a patron, a soldier named Caleb, who bought Tasc out of slavery and taught him how to speak and to act among humans. Caleb trained Tasc to be his bodyguard, and the two became close.

One night, Caleb finally admitted to Tasc why he took such an interest in him: He was the commanding officer at Erden Og. He was responsible for sending Tasc to the asylum and then to slavery. Tasc smiled and nodded at the news and said "past is past" and when Caleb went to sleep that night, Tasc crept into his room, killed him, and ate him.

From that day on, Tasc was his own man. He traveled to Venture, the so-called "City of Heroes." He sought jobs as a mercenary and worked hard to control his bestial impulses. Eventually, he was recruited by a renowned party of adventurers, who had just lost their swordsman.

As Tasc's reputation grew, he found himself embraced by the Elves, who were still fighting a bloody territorial war against the Giants. The Humans had just signed a treaty with the Giants, and the Elves were cut off and vulnerable. In his time away from the party, Tasc became a freedom fighter (some would say "terrorist") against Giant oppression. As he was slowly becoming a figurehead for the Elves, he was also learning more and more of the world's true history, and his disdain for the Humans and their god, Mithras the Forger, grew.

All this led up to what I'd have to say is my proudest gaming moment: On the night of Mid-Winter's Eve, a holy day for the worshippers of Mithras, Tasc explains his hatred for the Humans' god to a barroom full of drunken Elf freedom fighters... in song!

I HATE MITHRAS, by Tasc

For years and years we've all been stranded,
On this worthless humans' planet!
And as we die and suffer greatly,
I've been forced to question late-ly...

Who turned to us when they were slaves,
But now tells us we should behave?
When Giants came and took our land,
Who took their side and lent a hand?
Who cares about who's right or wrong,
If you're not singing their For-ger's song?

Well, I HATE Mithras!

Who can I blame for this life I live?
Who can I hate in this time to give?
Not the men that I called brother!
Not the women I've called lovers!
Just the God to whom they pray,
And their accursed HOLY day!

I. HATE. MITH-RAS!

They gather in Mid-Winter for their holy festival,
And thank the Forger for the freedom for which we're responsible!
While homeless Elven children shiver, displaced by their de-cree,
And Giant warlords toast to their un-deserv-ed victory,
Unwrap your presents, drink, be merry, but NEVER pretend,
Their Mithras is God of ANY-thing but hypocrites and Men!

AND I HATE MITHRAS!

Familes gather to eat pheasant.
Giggling tots unwrap their presents.
Don't feel merry? Just be pleasant!
Save. Me. From. These. Human. PEASANTS!

I HATE MITHRAS!

Let's go for a sleigh ride,
Then warm by the fireside.
Let's take a break.
Let's eat a cake.
Let's decorate.
Let's celebrate.
Let's dance. Let's sing. Let's GIVE!

A cold winter's night is all this is.

I. HATE. MITHRAS!

(And, might I add, humbug.)

(Don't worry folks, this was during a holiday themed episode in our last campaign, so YES, later on, Tasc learned the true meaning of Mithras.)

 

[Dacileva]

Althaine Catthier

Character: Althaine Catthier, male human (Palanthas) Rogue (Dragonlance)

Concept: Acrobatic sneak-attack rogue, operates through deception and misapprehension. Flamboyant to the extreme, and fights with twin short swords.

Backstory: While it is clear that Althaine's childhood on the streets of Palanthas was complex and eventful, he refuses to speak of any part of his life prior to age 12. As far as anyone can tell, a twelve-year-old Althaine met Midnight, an elegant harpist with a traveling minstrel group. Falling almost immediately into deep adoration of the exotic beauty, Althaine snuck into the encampment of the minstrels and stowed away in Midnight's carriage. After being angry at this kid trying to take advantage of her, Midnight realized his potential. One of the secrets of the group was that they often had pickpockets do small acrobatic stunts to please the crowd between songs, while steadily pilfering a coin or two from many different customers. She asked one of the group's pickpockets train Althaine as a juggler and pickpocket.

Several years later, the fifteen year old Althaine found himself at loose ends after attempting to seduce the minstrel group leader's newest young wife. He was a bit disappointed that the town of Solace offered so little for a flamboyant juggler/acrobat to do for work. He discovered that a few other people in similar situations had ended up there, and was considering making an alliance with one of them when the War of the Lance erupted. (( Yes, we were playing the main "Saga" adventures, but with our characters replacing the Companions of the Lance; the DM wanted to see if we'd be able to win the War, and how we'd do it. ))

Description: The first word about Althaine is "flamboyant". The clothes on this man make gypsies cringe slightly, but he manages to make all of it look cool. Well, mostly. He keeps on buying large floppy hats to complete his ensemble, but they almost always get lost when he starts his acrobatic-style fighting. He wears a pair of short swords on his hips, and chooses to remain unarmored (until he discovers elven or mithril chain). He has short black hair, and eyes of a deep brown that looks very close to black. His clothing tends to be in dark scarlets and bright golds. Eschewing projectile weapons, he prefers to enter ranged combat by throwing daggers, harkening to his days as a juggler with the minstrels.

Killer Moment: (( For reference, this was under mostly 2nd Edition rules. )) The party had found their way to Xak Tsaroth. In the buried City, they got into their most spectacular fight up to that point, where they fought eight baaz draconians and four kapak draconians. The party's ranged combatants, a wizard and an archer-style fighter, spread quickly to either side of the enemy, while the party's primary melee fighters, a cleric and a minotaur Knight, charged straight into the fray. Althaine hung back for a moment to assess the situation and choose an optimum point to fight from.

The party and the draconians clashed, and quickly the minotaur's sword became embedded in his first foe, a baaz draconian slain instantly with the fight's first strike. As the minotaur attempted to yank his weapon out of the statute-corpse, Althaine saw his moment to shine. He dashed forward, ran up the now-sloped back of the minotaur, and leapt off the minotaur's head. A quick flip in mid-air landed him, weapons out, in the midst of the baaz group. All seven baaz were stunned at the sudden appearance of this small, garishly-dressed human, so Althaine immediately took advantage of the opening and struck, a golden and scarlet whirlwind in the midst of the enemies, unexpectedly striking vitals and then spinning away before the return strikes could finish him.

 

[AdmundfortGeographer]

Well, It can't hurt to try submitting something

I've always wanted to see a drawing that came moderately close to this character of mine. I'll give a pretty full listing of stats for an idea of the character concept.

Lyzelle of Joramy, Human (Flan/Suel), Neutral
Holy warrior of Joramy (The Shrew), goddess of fire, volcanoes, wrath, anger, quarrels.
Barbarian 1/Cleric 4
Str 14, Dex 14, Con 13, Int 8, Wis 14, Cha 15
Special Abilities: Rage 1/day, Channel negative energy
Domains: Destruction (Smite 1/day), Fire (Turn water/Rebuke fire)
Feats Combat Reflexes, Power Attack, Divine Might
Possessions of import" Masterwork glaive, mighty (+1 Str) elven composite longbow, chain shirt. Her glaive has volcano-like glyphs carved into the wooden shaft.
Physical Appearance: Tall and rail thin, (5'11" and 120 lbs), ice blue eyes, flame red hair (appropriately, that extends to the small of her back. She wears a headband with a volcano prominently displayed in the center of her forehead.
Skill of note: Only one. Seriously. She has maxed her Intimidate.

Lyzelle is a striking person at first glance, the casual observer will notice a latent anger waiting to be unleashed by the slightest cause. She is prone to quickly take offense at the weakest reasons, but quickly makes nice when the arguer proves his worth by words. When she's not looking for arguments, she's often provoking arguments between bystandards. Taverns usually don't allow her in a second time.

Lyzelle's driving cause is to purify White Plume Mountain as the largest shrine to Joramy in the Flanaess. She hasn't made up her mind on the best course yet, as the mountain is in land claimed by the demigod Iuz. But for now she is offering her services to the Shield Lands' War of Reclaimation. As devout Heironeous worshippers, the Shield Lands would not take a kind view towards a presence of a temple to a god like Joramy in their nation so Lyzelle is leaving her options open...

Lyzelle doesn't often diplomatically talk her way through an imminent fight. If talk preceeds things, she will attempt to frighten. No, in fact it rarely works that way, but she keeps it up, after all it is the dogma of Joramy, and as a holy warrior of the goddess of wrath, anger, and quarrels, she thinks it is expected of her.

Power-up routine: Lyzelle has numerous options to power her up. She is regularly the brute force for adventure bands she finds herself in, and often punches above her level.

• Casts bull's strength if time allows.
• Rage.
• As a free action, uses a turning attempt to fuel Divine Might, (Cha bonus (+2) to damage for 1 round).
• Puts 4 points into a Power Attack with her glaive to gain a +8 to damage.
• Use her 1/day Smite (+4 to attack/+4 to damage) if needed.

Memorable moment: Lyzelle was among a mixed band on an adventure, Lyzelle knew she was not nearly as well-traveled as her compatriots this adventure. Regardless, Lyzelle knew she's be on the front line taking the smacks. While traveling along a road in dangerous territory Lyzelle's band found themselves facing a large warband of orcs, ogres, and Iuz priests chasing after an escapee. Lyzelle's band placed themselves between the warband and the escapee.

Well, sort of, the party's thief hid himself in the woods to save his life. At least the mage in her party came out to keep the Iuzian priest busy.

For the first time in Lyzelle's adventuring career, she found herself in a party with two reach weapon warriors. The other, Colin of Longspear, who fought with a glaive to mazimum efficiency. Colin's many more years of veteren experience proved valuable in giving Lyzelle the confidence to stand their ground against the vastly superior numbers.

The warband charged at Lyzelle and Colin. Lyzelle fully invoked the holy fury of Lyzelle. Colin knocked down foes and punished them with the guisarme, while Lyzelle skewered hers. In an instant, 6 orcs were slain in the charge before even getting next to the pair and 4 more died with Lyzelle's and Colin's counter attack. In the next rush the last two orcs died in a rush, and then the ogres came, three dying before coming close to the pair. Lyzelle and Colin advanced upon the ogres, Lyzelle unleashed her smite upon an ogre and with one strike laid low a raging ogre, and Colin knocked three ogres off their feet. 6 seconds later the last 3 ogres were dispatched with as they attempted to regain their feet. Bodies laid all around them in a pile of carnage an archmage would be proud of.

The Iuzian priest had stood off at a range, watching the decimation of his troops, throwing spells back and forth with the party's wizard. Colin and Lyzelle raced after the Iuzian who then tried to flee for his life. Lyzelle's rage wound down in her chase after the priest, but she gained upon him swiftly. The party wizard had hit the priest with a few good spells already, as Lyzelle with exhausted limbs, and no available turning attempts left to spontaneously inflict wounds with, then raced upon the fleeing priest and toasted the priest with her favorite spell, Joramy's hand, which wizards wrongly call "burning hands".


Regards,
Eric Anondson