Well, I read over this thread, looked at all the great advice and went back and looked at creating a character from scratch and NOT as a class with stats but as a character with a background. And I found a winner!
When I got the Eberron book, my wife delved into it before I did. She told me about the Half-Elves and how they were in Sky Ships and other things about them. I said "That would make the perfect swashbuckler! Bard/Fighter all the way!"
But I didn't think I wanted to play one and went on to create other characters. Then, in the Complete Warrior, I saw they had a Swashbuckler character class. At the time, I thought nothing of it but I knew it interested me. So last night I sat down and tweaked my characters history. Elf... Lost as a baby in the Talenta Plains after his parents were killed in an ambush... Found by a Halfling Barbarian hunting for his family... Raised by Halflings and a proud brother of one of the other PCs (my wife's character). But then I tweaked it even more and found my creative juices flowing again!
I even wrote a story about him, which is something I normally do when a character really interests me. So, without further adieu, I present Cade Reyhan, Elven Swashbuckler.
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Cade Reyhan didn’t know what to do.
Not two minutes before he had been sitting at the fire, sharing an ale with his sister and their friends and regaling them with stories of the ruins he had visited that day, omitting, of course, the part about his sister making sure he didn’t get his head caved in by part of a loose ceiling.
But this was different. This was something he hadn’t expected to do. Something he had never had to do before. Now it was time to fight.
Another tribe of Halflings was passing through the area and the Reyhan’s chief had offered them food and shelter. The other chief took the offer and made a celebration of it.
In his own tribe, Cade had come to be trusted and loved; it just took 50 or so years for that to happen. But that did not mean he was trusted outside his tribe. In fact, he could feel the hot stares of the other tribe when they first arrived. But he, in his usual way, had managed to warm up to them, telling them stories of the surrounding lands and of his ability to get out of most scrapes. He also read to them from the books he had managed to trade for from passing merchants. He still loved the Khorvarian Jones stories. How DID he manage to outrun that boulder?!
But there was one Halfling who still didn’t like him; Valor. And now was the time he picked to show it. Valor had made a point of walking up to Cade while he, Cade, was telling his story. Cade, showing them exactly how big the spear had been that narrowly missed him, accidentally hit Valor. Of course, Valor had hoped for this and challenged Cade in front of everyone.
Cade, not wanting to back down, accepted, even though the thought of it scared the piss out of him.
He grabbed his Elven thinblade, the only memory he had of his parents and the “kind of weapon only a woman uses” as the other tribe said mockingly, and waited to die.
But something strange happened. Valor lunged and Cade dodged. Valor swiped with his axe but Cade ducked and rolled, not a bad feat for someone almost two feet taller than his opponent.
And that’s how it went. Cade would dodge blow after blow, too stunned in his own abilities to mount any type of offense. Eventually, though, he came to his senses. During one particularly vicious swipe, Cade jumped over Valor and cut for his opponents back. This drew blood and caused Cade to yell out “Yoo Hoo! Over here shorty!” which caused the rest of the Halflings to laugh out loud.
Of course, this made Valor even angrier. And you wouldn’t like it when a Halfling barbarian gets angry. Valor let out a yell that almost deafened Cade. He charged with all his might at Cade, leaping at the last second and planning to end Cade’s life then and there.
But Cade was smarter than that. He knew he couldn’t kill Valor; doing so would bring his family, and tribe, shame. Instead, he cartwheeled to his right, bringing his blade up and cutting the belt holding up Valor’s pants.
When Valor came to a skidding stop, he was dirty, bloody and pantsless. The crowd howled in laughter. Cade drank it in. He was the center of attention and loved every minute of it. Valor, of course, was not amused. He pulled up his pants and skulked into the darkness, plotting his revenge. Cade has not seen Valor since then and hopes to never see him again.
Cade went back to his friends when the crowd started to quiet down and get back to their meals. He looked at his sister, smiled and said, “Now, where was I?”
Today, over 50 years later, the tale has changed a bit. Valor is usually an orc… or two… or three. The crowd is usually a noble court who paid for his services. And his reward was, well, a rather exquisite beauty who had never known the touch of an elf.
Ah… The life of a swashbuckler.
