The IR Aftermath Campaign Characters

[Festy_Dog]

A piece of the history of Alistair Delerone:

It was the second month of the Great War and Alistair was on the surface of the Crystal Mists defending it along side the armies of Silver Phase and Vaeregoth.

The armies were well dug in and occaisionally one would see a spelljammer or two flying above.

"Foul cowardly drow," he muttered to no-one in particular, "They should be up here defending their homes with the others."

He had developed a particular a dislike for drow from their treatment of him, and based his dislike on other elves for the same stereotypical reasons.

He sat in the trench and stretched. There had been no rain here so the trenches weren't muddy, which allowed him to sit on a nice rock with a bit of a view over the top should he move a couple of inches. A kobold jumped out of the trench and looked around.

"Hmm, doesn't seem ta be nuthin sneakin up on us," it barked to its superior officer," Wait a sec.................................. PALADINS!"

The little creature shrieked and turned around before taking an arrow through the back of the head and exploding with a cloud of putrid smoke. Some kobolds collapsed around him from the stench while heavy thudding indicated a charge by mounted paladins. He grimaced and covered his mouth as he fled to a less fragrant part of the trench. On his way he picked up a firearm and ammunition owned by one of the unconcious high-ranking kobolds and cocked the primitive firing function.

Alistair muttered darkly as he moved past heavy combat in the trench around him,"Damn Arcane Archers. Always carrying elven blood, I hate them, hate them. They're all the same, I swear, it doesn't matter to them if I have better goals in life than other dirty goblinoids. Hmmph, arrogant......................things. They'll learn not to consider all of us the same some day."

He raised the rifle to his shoulder and fired the thing directly into the face plate of an armoured paladin charging towards him. Alistair raised his eyebrows as the shot threw the knight off his steed. He then ducked back down into the trench and pondered for a moment at how to reload the thing, a split second later he gave up and thrust it into the arms of a dwarf whose weapon, a sizable club, lay in two pieces on the ground.

"You know how to use one of these things?" he hurriedly inquired.

"Of course," she replied, "I'm an engineer."

Alistair heartily slapped the dwarf on the back and a warm feeling came into him for the loyalty the troops here display. He was coming towards an area where the defensive line was in choas and enemy foot troops were leaking through into the trenches behind. He ducked as a whistling arrow thudded into a side of the trench his neck was close to. Nonetheless it exploded, throwing hard balls of snow everywhere. Alistair managed to evade the blast by diving behind a dead horse. He saw a dwarf gets its head knocked clean off by one of the snowballs, then took advantage of the moment by drawing his rapier and leaping into combat.

Blood sprayed up a wall as Alistair precisely struck the jugular vein of some unsuspecting human. Then he twisted and severed another's spine before redirecting an attack from a maul into the ground. The fighting going on around him was critical to whether they keep or lose the pass, the hole was widening and he knew he had to hold the trench until formian shock troops or spelljammers arrived. On the other end of the maul was an aggravated paladin in shining magical full plate.

The paladin swung again but this time the attack was too well placed and Alistair was launched against a wall. He was winded and couldn't move, the paladin stood over him and brought the maul back behind his head for a big swing.

"I smite thee evil goblin!" he yelled, but he never got the maul past his shoulders because there was another bang of a black powder weapon. Alistair was seeing red from the comment. The paladin was struck by the shot and knocked off balance but wasn't harmed because of his magic armour.

Regardless of his broken ribs Alistair was fuming from being called evil and within a split second the point of his rapier was under the front of the paladin's helmet and into his brain. The paladin wavered as blood flowed down his shining breastplate.

Alistair coughed and said, "Go to your god righteous paladin."

The paladin fell backwards flat onto his back. Alistair then looked up to see spelljammers coming to their aid. He sat back down again and leaned on his rapier as he watched the enemies' remaining troops scatter. He turned around to see the dwarven engineer grinning back at him.

"Did you like my shot?" she said.

"Lifesaver. Do you mind my suggesting that you call for a cleric?" Alistair replied.

"Not at all," she said while laughing.

 

[The Forsaken One]

As thunder roared through the cloud filled sky above, the forest shook beneath the power of the midsummer storm.

Through the forest rode a hooded figure on a horse defying the might of the storm. Spurring on his horse he made good time despite the horrible weather.

"Blast this weather. "It's good for the forest", they say, "the gods are pleased to grant us such furtile weather", damned tree hugging elves. If they are so pleased with this weater they should have gone out themselves."

The man reached a clearing and took out a note from under his cloack and reread his directions. These directions caused him to ride on for a few minutes and there he left the forest path and headed into the forest.

Driving his horse ever further into the forest the vegatations grew thicker and less light came through the branches of the trees.

"Hmmm I should have been there by now.. where did I go wrong.. hmmm..... damn this bloody weather."

As the man muttered to himself he sudenly halted his horse as it was standing on the edge of a cliff. Through the dense rain he had hardly noticed the cliffs edge.

"Few, almost kicked the buckett there. Good you are still keeping your eyes open and your wits about dear." As he rubbed his horse.

He looked into the valey and the cliff seemed to curve a bit and in that curve he saw a light burning about a mile in the direction he was looking in.

"Good, that should be the camp. Thank the gods I'm almost there, a warm drink and dry clothes are donna do me some good!"

The man drove his horse alongside the edges of the cliff and made his way to the camp. But when he reached it he found a fire alright. The whole camp had been set a fire and the remains were smoldering in the rain.

As he moved through the camp he saw it was littered with bodies, Elven bodies. Just elven bodies and no bodies of their attackers.

Searching for a clue he entered a half standing tent where 2 other bodies lay. He moved towards the bodies only to find a handfull of bolts sticking out of them. A hand full of black bolts, the strange smell and the black reflection of the blade suggested poison.

"Drow, it seemed I came to late to warn them about the new threat that our enemy had in store for us. They almost had us tricked the first time, but luckilly we saw it through in time that these were no ordinary drow.

"Yes, where these still evil drow came from noone can tell but they are here and they fooled many a camp it seems. I must move on and hope to reach the other camps in time, or the the forest border will be left unguarded."

He ran out of the tent and mounted his horse. Spurring it he gallopped away from the slaughter and made his way back into the forest.

After a few minutes he stumbled upon the forest road and he headed west. Driving like the wind he and his horse galloped through the forest to reach the other camps in time.

 

[The Forsaken One]

He gallopped for almost a hour before he reached the next camp, only to find it devastated as well. He looked around for a second and seeing fresh bodies and feeling warm ashes he loaded his crossbow and spurred his horse.

Minutes further he suddenly halted his horse. He saw it but he didn't believe and understand what he saw. It was mid summer and he was looking at ice. And not just a bit, parts of the forest and large parts of trees frozen here and there.

He clenched a firm graps around his crossbow and checked his bolt.

"Some powerfull magic is used here.... I must be alert. You never know what these drow have in store for us next, I must stay sharp!"

He entered the part of the forest which was altered and as he made his way up the road he reached a clearing where several drow bodies lay, some frozen as statues with strange expressions of fright and panic on their faces seemingly trying to escape from something. And then he noticed dozens of fighters at edge of the clearing, frozen in ice. Some trying to crawl away, others caught in a charge. Shattered limbs lay everywhere and the wind sounded eery and hollow as it blew its midsummer breez through the icy warriors.

He had found and caught up with his warband of drow that were terrorising the forest edge at last.

"What the #@!%@%..."

While looking at the ghostly display his horse started to sound nervous and he turned around and pulled his crossbow from his side into fireing position while he turned. Only to see a single person sitting on top of a rock staring at him from under his hooded cloack.

He lowered his crossbow and looked wonderingly at this person. He pulled his sword and approached the person carefully. When within 30 feet the person threw back his hood and flung back his cloack. beneath was a young elven male without any armor or weapons who looked at our adventurer with rain drops roling over his face with a certain... interest.

"Greetings young elf," the man said as he threw back his hood as well. The elf looked interested and the young human features revealed from beneath the hood, "what happened here?"

The elf stood up and had a long look at the humand before he cracked a smile.

"So they sent a human, expectable these days", the elf said, "go on your way, there are more out there then these, if you want to save your outposts you will have to hurry and be speedy like the wind blowing today through the forest."

The human looked surprised at how the elf knew what he was doing but before he could speak the young elf disappeared.

The human now wondering at this strange person sheathed his sword, mounted his horse and drew his crossbow once again. Now riding off into the sunset the rain started to stop and the sky seemed to clear.

 

[The Forsaken One]

Our fatigued adventurer made for the next camp with the last of his strength while the forest got covered under the warm blanket of a midsummers evening.

As he spurred his horse one last time he broke free from the trees and cleared the forests edge. He sped out onto the plains in front of him where only a few hundred yards still away from him there lay the last elven outpost imbedded into the cliff of a mountain side.

While he sped towards the gates they opened and he rode onto the centre square of the outpost only to be greeted by several elven bowmen and riflemen aiming their weapons at the traveler.

Our human threw back his hood and a voice came from one of the guard towers ringing the outpost wall.

"Lower your weapons! Muoyn! Always good to see you even in these perilous times! How are you and what news do you bring?"

The men lowered their weapons and as Muoyn demounted his horse the guard captain stepped through the ring of guards an greeted his friend.

They went to his quarters where he got some food and whine and some dry clother before telling his story and his message from Sanctus himself.

The guard captain looked worried and told him they were being harassed by drow for days now and that they were cut of by them from the outside world for several days now.
He also told him about the lights flashing n the forests at night. The screams and shrieks that pierced the silence and the darkness at night and that kept his guards awake and alert.

Strange things were going on out there in these woods these days. Several patrolls had reported about strange pieces of frozen forest and trees in the woods and about half a dozen drow they found maddened and clawing at their eyes or clasping their head just screaming about something that could be translated as reshaper in the common tongue of Oerth.

Both went wondering to their beds tired and their heads filled with questions with no appearant answer to them.

In the middle of the night the guards screamed and the horn sounded. Muoyn sprang from his bed, donned his armor and clasped his sword and crossbow and ran out onto the walls. What he see he did not like, he saw the darkness move and badly lit by the torches on the walls he could see the dozens of drow charging through the plain towards the outpost. They were many and as all drow they wield powerfull magic.

Muoyn aimed his crossbow and fired, reloaded and fired again, but his second arrow went straight into the sky as he took a hit in the shoulder of a bolt, he already felt his body turn weak in seconds.

"Poison.. no!" He cried while desperately trying to remove the bolt from his shoulder.

But as he clasped the bolt with both hands he felt his power drain away and his eyelids become heavy and the last thing he saw before falling into a deep sleep was the purple fire coming down on him from the skies and the bright light that filled the skies.

"The lights, so beautifu....."

Several drow had charged the gates and other had breached through the mountain walls into the inside perimitar of the outpost. Now facing to numerous opponents from all sides the guard captain ordered his men to form a defensive circle in the center of the compound and hold as they would make there final stand against these spiders kissers.

But as they formed they heard the drow scream and they looked up and from over the cliff appeared a purple light plummoting towards the valey floor where the battle was going on. The purple light turned ablaze and suddenly the sky turned light as if it were day as several projectiles from the purple object pierced the night darkness and only then could the elves see the drow crawling over the walls and coming through the battered gate in the dozens.

But the lights blinded them and they cried out in pain as they clasped their eyes and then the screams came. It started as a flizzling noise, a humming but the flares came down upon them and they screamed. The elves clasped their ears and they despaired. The purple light landed in the middle of the outpost and it was a person in a glowing purple armor radiating powerfull energies and clasping a shining magical bow.

His distorted and strange fading appeared made the elves look in awe as he sped towards the gates firing his bow at the now retreating drow why just kept screaming and crying about the remaker, the changer, the Warper.

The drow fled, running from the blinding light and the rupturing screams that tore your inner organs apart. They ran and as they ran the elves looked up only seeing the liquid avenger screaming a battle cry and running right through a wall after the escaping drow. Now the elven defenders grapsed their weapons and ran after him cutting down ten, twenty, thirty stunned and blinded drow in the process.

As they ran through the now cold frozen field cleavin' their way through wounded and stunned drow and shattering frozen dark elves everywhere they looked across the plaines, large parts illuminated brightly by these flares and the forest filled with strange lights and screams topped the forest and filled the forests edge. Screams of the flares, screams of the Warper, screams of its vitims.

The next morning the elves found themselves still looking in awe and amazement across the plains and what had taken place their last night.

A guard called from the western tower and they looked in that direction. The ground shook as hundreds of warhorses galloped across the plains longside the edge of the forest.

It was Sanctus Punitor himself and his detatchment of elven paladins and elite cavilary to come and save his defenses at the southern edge of the woods. As they rode through the with bodyparts littered fields they were amazed at what had happened here.

They reached the remains of the shattered outpost where they would hear a most unusual story. And from the edge of the woods a young elf watched, put up his hood and spit upon a drow body. As he walked away he pulled out a bowshaft from under his cloack and he smacked it against a frozen drow running away from the purple terror. As the drow siluete shattered he smiled a cruel smile full of hate and he walked away into the woods.

 

[Janos Audron]

Fire. Torture. Insanity. Pain. Endless suffering, without hope of freedom. The images were always the same. He saw himself, chained, humiliated, tortured by things far beneath him. Things he could have slain with ease when he still had the power. When he was still out there, free. Not only free from the chains, but also from the marks, the marks that bound him to the Devil.

The images came when he closed his eyes, whenever his consciousness passed away. "No rest for the wicked", never had he heard a more true saying. They started as flashes, as some quick glance into the future. But when the years passed, and he continued working for Him, the images grew more intense, became more frequent and only after a long time did he realise it was him who was the victem...

Life. He laughed at those who desperatly clang to it. At them unable to see that all life ended in death. Eventually. For him, death had been a release. The release from a weak body. The release from Time. A Passing to a more pure state. The next logical step for those who had the knowledge and the money.

But deep in his heart, or what was left of it, he had to admit that death did not only bring good things. With endless time, he grew bitter, cold, alone. It did not come suddenly. Else, he would have detected it, stopped it, cured it...whatever. But he didn't see it coming. It came gradually. Of course, now, looking back at it, he noticed the subtle signs that he missed when he was still young. When he drowned all his feelings in the hate in his soul. Every little grievance, insult, mistreatment and other crimes against him, he remembered. He spend his young days plotting against those who had wronged him. Their deaths were painful. Pleasing to watch. And yet, there always was this sense that something was missing. An emotion he never knew after he died...something small, fragile ... but untouchable. It seemed like it eluded him. And it was very skilled at that.

In time, when the sense grew that he was somehow incomplete, he turned to other ways to satisfy himself. Power, wealth, knowlege. Goals he also had in life. Then, they were unreachable, now they were so easy to get. And as his knowledge and power grew, so did his emptyness. And all it takes is one Devil to turn your own feelings against you...

Late on night, when he was delving into the secrets of protecting his wealth and his library using creatures that fully obey you, he found a piece in one of his tomes. It contained instruction for a ritual to gain insight in the construction of magical guardians.

Sometimes, he could even see the irony of the whole situation. Of course he had skimmed the tome when he bought it. And he specially prepared it to make it resistant to insects and water damage. Never had he noticed that piece of paper. He should have been suspicious, but back then, his lust for power was greater than his common sense. Even the sacrifice of elves and humans seemed perfectly logical ... at that time.

That same night, he performed the ritual. The thing that appeared was obviously not human. It radiated immense power. But it kept his end of the 'bargain'. It filled his mind with arcane secrets, so obscure, so evil that most mortal would have gone insane, or maybe died from shock. He knew the creation process for what was commonly known as a Helmed Horror.

He began the construction. It was a diffictuly task, mentally draining, and costing many GP. When he finally had it completely assembled, he searched his mind for the activation method. And what he found shocked even him ... well, a little.

He thralled a cleric and forced him to return his family. They weren't delighted to see him again. They had lived quite a nice live with their God. And now, to have that taken away and to face your killer, especially when he's family, wasn't exactely something that made them happy. But their power was no match for his skills. He enslaved them, tortured them. Made them suffer for weeks. And finally, he killed them again, only to capture their souls to activate his masterpiece: the Helmed Horror.

more to follow.

 

[Festy_Dog]

Interesting background stories so far!

Janos and the Warper certainly have interesting tales to tell. You guys have inspired me to add another post to about Alistair's adventures!

 

[Anabstercorian]

Zizzyzazu

Illithid Ftr12, Lawful Neutral

Str 14 (+2)
Dex 19 (+4)
Con 14 (+2)
Int 27 (+8)
Wis 25 (+7)
Cha 25 (+7)

Mind Blast (Sp): This attack is a cone 60 feet long. Anyone caught in this cone must succeed at a Will save (DC 27) or be stunned for 3d4 rounds. Mind flayers often hunt using this power and then drag off one or two of their stunned victims to feed upon.

Psionics (Sp): At will-astral projection, charm monster, detect thoughts, levitate, plane shift, and suggestion. These abilities are as the spells cast by an 8th-level sorcerer (save DC 23 + spell level)

Species Skills:
Bluff, Concentration, Hide, Intimidate, Knowledge (Any), Listen, Move Silently, Spot
Class Skills:

Species Skill Points: (HD+Intelligence) x 2 or 58
Fighter Skill Points: (2+Int mod) x Level or 12 x 7 or 84

8 ranks Bluff (+15)
15 ranks Climb (+17)
15 ranks Drive Two-Wheel Vehicle (Motorcycle) (+19)
12 ranks Hide (+16)
8 ranks Intimidate (+15)
15 ranks Jump (+17)
12 ranks Move Silently (+16)
9 ranks Listen (+16)
15 ranks Pilot Starcraft (+19)
9 ranks Knowledge (History of the Apotheosis War) (+16)
15 ranks Ride Horse (+19)
9 ranks Craft (Gunsmith) (+16)

Species Feats: Alertness, Combat Casting, Dodge, Improved Initiative, Weapon Finesse (tentacle)
Class Feats: Weapon Focus (Automatic Rifle), Lightning Reload, Mounted Archery, Rapid Shot, Shot on the Run, Vehicle Combat, Fast Reload, Weapon Specialization (Automatic Rifle), Trample, Point Blank Shot, Mobility, Far Shot

Feat Notes:
Vehicle Combat is exactly like Mounted Combat, except for vehicles instead of mounts. Same for all other feats from the Mounted Combat chain.
Fast Reload allows me to reload a Rifle as a MEV rather than a standard action.
Lightning Reload allows me to reload a Rifle as a Free Action rather than a MEV.

Gear: (760,000 GP worth)

Ectoplasmic Hovercycle (50,000 GP): Zizzyzazu carries a small stick on his person at all times. When this stick is broken in half, the two halves become the handlebars of an ectoplasmic hovercylce that immediately forms between them. This motorcycle weighs 250 lbs, but has a Fly speed of 150. It can carry up to 900 lbs, and has a maneuverability rating of Good. It has 90 hp, hardness of 10, and regenerates hitpoints at 5 per round.

"...Impossible to catch, moving like the wind, shattering enemy lines..."

(128,000 GP) Word of Ilsensine: +4 Lawful Automatic Rifle of Shade-Bane

"...Moving like a cat through enemy territory, capping shade wizards at two hundred yards midsprint, blowing them to the afterlife in a blaze of light and ordered wrath..."

(220,000 GP) Plasma Lance: +5 Ferroplasm Heavy Lance of Plasma (+5d6, divided between Sonic, fire, acid, cold, and lightning - Plasma will hurt damn near anything, and requires almost universal energy resistance to completely resist.)

"...Shrieking across the battlefield on a glowing hovercycle, impaling enemy warriors on a lance of raging fire and letting them be consumed by the rage of his mighty weapon, tearing great rents in the armor of enemy battleships..."

Bracer of Screaming Impact: This bracer provide an immense surge of force to the wielders weapon arm during a charge attack with a lance, increasing the mounted damage bonus from x2 to x5. This effect is accompanied by a thundering blast of sound (a Sonic Boom) that can deafen the target if they fail a fort save (DC 14.)

(36,000 GP) Inherent Power Boost Amulet +6

"...Blessed by Ilsensine himself, his powers far ahead of lesser Illithid..."

 

[Mr. Draco]

Nice char anab! This makes two gun-toting humanoids in the party

[edit]- one question though, your DC's are each about 10 above the listed MM ones. is that because of the advancement through class levels or something?

 

[Kalanyr]

Anab's mind blast DC:

10 (Base) + 4 (Mind Blast Mod vs Non-Psionic Buffer) + 6 (Power Boost Amulet) + 7 (Charisma)

Psionics

10 (Base) + 6 (power boost) + 7 (Charisma)


ower Boost Items like Ability Focuses should only apply to a single DC I believe) (Unless they changed this for some reason. and if so would someone mind telling me which book?)

 

[The Forsaken One]

The Book of Eldritch Might II

That I dlled yesterday =]

And it's in Demon Gods Fane as well (the Montes adventure which is VERY good)