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The after-action report from last night's 4E game
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<blockquote data-quote="mtheurer" data-source="post: 4333498" data-attributes="member: 57398"><p><strong>Kincaid - 1/2Elf Warlock</strong></p><p></p><p>As with most Half-Elves, Kincaid was the spawn of a union between a Human and an Elf. In this case the father was the human. And as too often happens this marriage was not highly looked upon by either racial community. So, Kincaid was left to his own devices. He studied some of the lore of his mother's people. This knowledge, gleaned from a collection of books belonging to mother and father, entertained him during his early and formative years. Kincaid proved to have at least a modicum of talent in the mystic arts. Alas, all moderately good things must come to an end. In this instance it was in his fifteenth year.</p><p>Kincaid awoke to see his home in flames and his father's brother, Damon, kneeling next to him. His uncle had arrived at the house to find it almost fully engulfed in flames. Kinciad was in the front room, unconscious. Damon took him from the house, but could not find his brother or sister-in-law amidst the flame and smoke.</p><p>After a time of grieving and a funeral ceremony Kincaid left his world behind and went to live with Damon. Damon was a very wealthy man and a skilled practitioner of the arcane. He took it upon himself to teach his nephew the ways of the Warlock. Kincaid learned of The Pact and the power that would be his when this rite was completed. His uncle was a hard taskmaster. Damon did not accept failure or mistakes well. Corrections were made with a leather riding crop. Under this severe tutelage Kincaid learned to endure pain and to insulate himself from emotion. At this time in his life the constant companions were loneliness and sadness. Alas, all bad things must come to an end...fortunately.</p><p>On the morning of this eighteenth birthday Kincaid was awakened by intense pain. Damon's magic held him immobile with dark band of power. These coils were as cold as the darkness between the stars. "Your parents were unwilling to give you to me, so I was forced to use other means to obtain your blood at the right time, " Damon said to him. It was then that Kincaid realized that the worst tragedy of his existence had been perpetrated by the man before him. He screamed through his tears, "My blood? Why do you need it so badly that you would kill your own brother, my father?" Damon proceeded to go into great detail about the ritual he was to perform that night. The main ingredient being the arcane-sensitive blood of an Elven/Human hybrid. The rite was so old that the reasoning behind the need for a half-breed had been lost in time.</p><p>Kincaid soon found himself suspended by magic, head down, above a diagram that had been drawn with molten silver. Damon began to recite in an unknown tongue passage from a tome that appeared to be bound in a material that seemed to ooze blackness. Looking too long at the symbols on the floor made Kincaid's mind want to shut down because of their alieness. Signs such as these were not meant for this world. Time passed. Damon's droning went on and on. Light from the windows began to fade. Candles that had gone unnoticed at the edge of the diagram ignited to throw obscene shadows across the insane sigils. Kincaid realized that the ritual was soon to reach its climax. Anger turned to rage at the thought that he was to become a sacrificial lamb so that his uncle, the betrayer, could gain power. Damon had taken his parents from him, the only people that had ever showed a modicum of affection towards him. The hatred he felt towards his</p><p>uncle gave Kincaid a clarity of thought. Damon's teachings had impressed upon his erstwhile student the need for precision when dealing with rituals of great power. Kincaid had an idea. It's simplicity seemed almost ludicrous. </p><p>Time was growing short for the young Half-Elf. At the center of the diagram Darkness began to form among the shadows cast by the candles. This Darkness was even more painful to perceive than the symbols etched in the floor. There was a writhing presence that was in and at the same time was Darkness. If not now, then never. Kincaid had to act if he was to save his own life and avenge the deaths of his parents. Fueled by grief, terror and hatred, Kincaid willed a sliver of power through the mystic bonds that restrained him. A candle toppled over and was extinguished. </p><p>Surprise and fear shown in Damon's eyes. "What have you done?" he screamed. A howl of hunger tore through Kincaid's mind. To preserve his sanity his brain turned itself off. Kincaid's last sight as he fell to the floor was of the Darkness pulling his uncle into the roiling madness that belonged in some place far beyond the stars.</p><p>When Kincaid awoke, the sun was shining, the birds were singing and there was no sign of the thing that should not be, his uncle, or of the noxious tome. He set about gathering his few belongings and set off to seek his destiny in the world beyond the walls of his uncle's estate. If one power hungry man could summon horror then so could others. Kincaid would do his best to keep this from happening ever again. He knew firsthand what kind of crawling chaos howled at the edges of our reality, wanting to get in and devour the light.</p><p>For three years Kincaid traveled where his feet and meager earnings could take him. That is how he ended up here in Fallcrest with a group of people that he did not know, in the employ of a dwarf that he did not know to retrieve the skin of a dragon. Somewhere a god is laughing at the joke being played out on the life of a lonely Warlock.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="mtheurer, post: 4333498, member: 57398"] [B]Kincaid - 1/2Elf Warlock[/B] As with most Half-Elves, Kincaid was the spawn of a union between a Human and an Elf. In this case the father was the human. And as too often happens this marriage was not highly looked upon by either racial community. So, Kincaid was left to his own devices. He studied some of the lore of his mother's people. This knowledge, gleaned from a collection of books belonging to mother and father, entertained him during his early and formative years. Kincaid proved to have at least a modicum of talent in the mystic arts. Alas, all moderately good things must come to an end. In this instance it was in his fifteenth year. Kincaid awoke to see his home in flames and his father's brother, Damon, kneeling next to him. His uncle had arrived at the house to find it almost fully engulfed in flames. Kinciad was in the front room, unconscious. Damon took him from the house, but could not find his brother or sister-in-law amidst the flame and smoke. After a time of grieving and a funeral ceremony Kincaid left his world behind and went to live with Damon. Damon was a very wealthy man and a skilled practitioner of the arcane. He took it upon himself to teach his nephew the ways of the Warlock. Kincaid learned of The Pact and the power that would be his when this rite was completed. His uncle was a hard taskmaster. Damon did not accept failure or mistakes well. Corrections were made with a leather riding crop. Under this severe tutelage Kincaid learned to endure pain and to insulate himself from emotion. At this time in his life the constant companions were loneliness and sadness. Alas, all bad things must come to an end...fortunately. On the morning of this eighteenth birthday Kincaid was awakened by intense pain. Damon's magic held him immobile with dark band of power. These coils were as cold as the darkness between the stars. "Your parents were unwilling to give you to me, so I was forced to use other means to obtain your blood at the right time, " Damon said to him. It was then that Kincaid realized that the worst tragedy of his existence had been perpetrated by the man before him. He screamed through his tears, "My blood? Why do you need it so badly that you would kill your own brother, my father?" Damon proceeded to go into great detail about the ritual he was to perform that night. The main ingredient being the arcane-sensitive blood of an Elven/Human hybrid. The rite was so old that the reasoning behind the need for a half-breed had been lost in time. Kincaid soon found himself suspended by magic, head down, above a diagram that had been drawn with molten silver. Damon began to recite in an unknown tongue passage from a tome that appeared to be bound in a material that seemed to ooze blackness. Looking too long at the symbols on the floor made Kincaid's mind want to shut down because of their alieness. Signs such as these were not meant for this world. Time passed. Damon's droning went on and on. Light from the windows began to fade. Candles that had gone unnoticed at the edge of the diagram ignited to throw obscene shadows across the insane sigils. Kincaid realized that the ritual was soon to reach its climax. Anger turned to rage at the thought that he was to become a sacrificial lamb so that his uncle, the betrayer, could gain power. Damon had taken his parents from him, the only people that had ever showed a modicum of affection towards him. The hatred he felt towards his uncle gave Kincaid a clarity of thought. Damon's teachings had impressed upon his erstwhile student the need for precision when dealing with rituals of great power. Kincaid had an idea. It's simplicity seemed almost ludicrous. Time was growing short for the young Half-Elf. At the center of the diagram Darkness began to form among the shadows cast by the candles. This Darkness was even more painful to perceive than the symbols etched in the floor. There was a writhing presence that was in and at the same time was Darkness. If not now, then never. Kincaid had to act if he was to save his own life and avenge the deaths of his parents. Fueled by grief, terror and hatred, Kincaid willed a sliver of power through the mystic bonds that restrained him. A candle toppled over and was extinguished. Surprise and fear shown in Damon's eyes. "What have you done?" he screamed. A howl of hunger tore through Kincaid's mind. To preserve his sanity his brain turned itself off. Kincaid's last sight as he fell to the floor was of the Darkness pulling his uncle into the roiling madness that belonged in some place far beyond the stars. When Kincaid awoke, the sun was shining, the birds were singing and there was no sign of the thing that should not be, his uncle, or of the noxious tome. He set about gathering his few belongings and set off to seek his destiny in the world beyond the walls of his uncle's estate. If one power hungry man could summon horror then so could others. Kincaid would do his best to keep this from happening ever again. He knew firsthand what kind of crawling chaos howled at the edges of our reality, wanting to get in and devour the light. For three years Kincaid traveled where his feet and meager earnings could take him. That is how he ended up here in Fallcrest with a group of people that he did not know, in the employ of a dwarf that he did not know to retrieve the skin of a dragon. Somewhere a god is laughing at the joke being played out on the life of a lonely Warlock. [/QUOTE]
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