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Old Nov 11th, 2008, 05:43 PM
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Makenshi Makenshi is offline
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Halva's Newest Lords And Ladies

This is where you post your characters, including their (secreted) Character Sheets and the information you applied with.

Questions regarding character creation (general or specific to the campaign) can be made in the OOC thread.

I will be asking you to keep the character sheets secret (as in not the other PCs) for the most part, though feel free to discuss amongst yourselves if you feel x knows enough about y to warrant access to their character sheet, and if not, you can always tell people the more 'common knowledge'.

The reason for this is to prevent unconscious metagaming, and I just think it's more realistic .

Anyway, here's the rules for character creation:

  • ECL: 14. Max LA of +4 (so no Half-Dragon Lakarns of Hate).
  • Experience: Everyone starts out with 96,000xp, you may use any extra xp to craft items/cast spells/etc.
  • Stats: 16, 16, 14, 14, 12 & 10, arrange as you wish and then add +1 to any stat of your choosing (in addition to any usual bonus' you get).
  • HP: Full at 1st, half at 2nd/every subsequent even level and half +1 at 3rd/every subsequent odd level.
  • Campaign Bonus Feat: All characters will be receiving a campign bonus feat at 1st level, though this will only be from the following list:
    • Force of Personality (CAd)
    • Insightful Reflexes (CAd)
    • Quick Draw
    • Dodge
    • Iron Will
    • Great Fortitude
    • Lightning Reflexes
    • Improved Unarmed Strike
  • Starting Gold: 162000gp. However, see the following stipulations:
    • No more than 70000 can be spent on any one Wondrous Item, ring, Wand, Rod or magical suit of armour.
    • No more than 80000 can be spent on any one magical weapon or Staff.
    • As with Feats, classess etc., you can select items from any of the books I have listed (see the 'House Rules' thread), however they are subject to my approval first still.
  • Classes: Any core subject to the additions/restrictions set out in The Classes and Prestige Classes of Aheka. Other classes (provided they do not go against any of the restrictions) are subject to my approval, however this is mainly to prevent abuse, so unless I feel you are attempting to powergame I'll most likely allow alternate classes provided they are in my book list or I can get a hold of them.
  • Bonus Skills: For RP purposes, everyone is given two bonus skills that are always assumed to be maximum rank. These two skills can be a Craft, Perform or Knowledge skill however, they are very specific, such as Knowledge (Deimos), Perform (flute) or Craft (flower necklace). Their inclusion is mostly for RP reasons (representing hobbies basically) and is meant to make you think more about your character and what they're like.


Also, I'm going to shamelessly steal/modify Chao's campaign's character sheets' system, as it makes it much easier to reference :


Feats & Special Abilities
When listing feats please make it clear which is which, I typically have the left collum as Feats and the right as Special Abilities (which includes racial and class features), though this is by no means the only way to do it.

For Feats, I will need you to write them out in the following way:
[If a Bonus Feat, what class/racial/source is it from] [Level Attained]. [Name of Feat] ([Source of Feat])
e.g. Campaign 1. Force of Personality (Complete Adventurer)
Human 1. Able Learner (Races of Destiny)

For Special Abilities, I will need you to write them out in the following way:
[Source of special ability]. [Name of special ability]: [Uses per day, DCs and other relevent information that changes depending on level, ability scores, etc.] ([Ex, Su or SP]) ([Source of the ability, including class variants and the like])
e.g. Rogue. Sneak Attack +4d6 (Ex) (PHb)
Monk. Stunning Fist: 9/day, DC 20 (Ex) (PHb)

To begin with, use the weight collum to keep a running total of the price, however note down the weight of the items as well, as I will be taking into account the weight of them.

Also, please remember to put your weapons, armour and/or shield (if you have them) in the items section as well .

In the Notes section, please set out where you get your skill points in the following way, repeating as neccessary for each level:
[Levels] ([Class+Int]) = [Class skill points per level+Int x [Levels, +3 if including 1st] = [Skill point total for thiose levels]
e.g. Rogue 1-9 (Int 18) = (8 + 4) x 12 = 144
Wizard 1-3 (Int 17) = (2 + 3) x 6 = 30
Wizard 4-9 (Int 18/19) = (2 + 4) x 6 = +36 = 66

Ability Scores
Also in the Notes section, please set out your 'original' Ability scores, before any sort of modifiers (including racial) in the following manner:
[Original Ability Score Name]: [Original Ability Score] ([Bonus' from level, race, items, class, etc., noted in a list])
e.g. Dex: 14 (+2 racial, +1 campaign bonus, +2 level bonus, +2 gloves of dexterity)
Con: 14 (+2 amulet of health)

DMing...: Trials of the Young King [3.5, Full] | Working on...: The Godling Sagas [PF, Gestalt, TotYK Sequel]

Last edited by Makenshi; Nov 25th, 2008 at 06:37 PM.
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Old Nov 25th, 2008, 05:45 PM
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Makenshi Makenshi is offline
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Name: Didina Reid
Race: Halvan Tiefling
Sex: Female
Age: 27
Class: Telepath (Psion)
Alignment: True Neutral
Deity: Inanna
Specialty: Psionics, telepathy and languages (she's fluent in 19 languages)
Traits & Flaws: Noncombatant flaw, polite trait and distinctive trait
Bonus Skills: Knowledge (Halvan Nobility and Inanna)

Description: Didina looks every bit the noble she strives to be, always appearing dressed in immaculate clothing, though not at the expense of comfort or mobility. She is highly distinctive due to the large horns atop her head which she refuses to hide or obscure and is often a point of contention or ridicule for her.

Personality: Didina is a very confident and unshy person. She rarely covers her head (and therefore her horns) and considers suggestions to do so insulting. She was taught to be proud of and take advantage of her abilities, not to scorn them and wallow in self-loathing, afterall, if she was given these natural abilities she may as well use them. She is also very savvy in handling people although her horns and obvious fiendish heritage often work against her at times.

Didina has long been used to the scorn and hatred of others, being a Tiefling, however she can always (and does) simply ignore such fools, considering them unworthy of her time if they can not get past her appearance and actually judge her on her own abilities and personality.

Background: Didina was originally born into a noble family, however the emergence of such a creature caused an uproar between the two families in question, with both sides insisting the newborn baby be at least given away and preferably 'done away with'. The baby Tiefling was fortunate that her mother refused to do either, resulting in social suicide and an exile from the priveledged classes. Her mother raised Didina as much as a noble as she could, teaching the attentive and unusually intelligent girl of intrigue and diplomacy so that she could survive and even thrive in the city.

Didina has since honed both her telepathic abilities (which are actually a secret few people know she possesses) and slowly increased her social status within Halva or, more specifically, Halvanna, by making an increasingly large network of friends and allies from the bottom up. It has gotten to the stage that some joke the Tiefling has developed a cult following, particularly by the younger nobles and other minor nobles in Halvanna.

Didina's most well known (and probably well-liked) friend is Misa Serokai, the blind daugther of the Arian ambassador and famous clothier amongst Halva's nobility in particular. She and Misa spend much of their time together and even accompany each other to the various events Halva's nobility hold in lieu of finding an 'escort' for the evening. Originally, this led some to be worried, however only a little under two years ago someone tried to mug the two when they were walking back to their homes at night. Unfortunately for the would-be mugger Misa, like all Serokai, has been trained almost sicne birth to fight with her hands and feet which, combined with her ability to sense the world around her, led to the mugger receiving a rather resounding defeat.

RP Sample: See Below (she and Misa received their invitations together).

Name: Misa Serokai
Race: Arian [Serokai]
Sex: Female
Age: 26
Class: Monk
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Deity: None
Specialty: Unarmed combat, precognition and clothing.
Traits & Flaws: Misa was born blind (flaw) and possesses the Quick trait.
Bonus Skills: Knowledge (Halvan Nobility) & Perform (piano)

Description: For the daughter of a well-known ambassador, not to mention a well known clothier, Misa's own appearance is surprisingly scruffy whenever she is not required to be dressed formally. Part of the reason for this stems from the fact that, having been born blind, the young Serokai places little important in appearance. That is not to say she is somehow unclean or unkept, just that she does not worry about how people see her.

Misa has the unsettling habit of not fully looking at people when talking them, usually just turning her head in their general direction but staring off into space, which is once again a result of her being born blind. She attempts to correct this whenever she can, however she often forgets that some are bothered by a lack of face-to-face contact. Similarly, her hair often hangs in front of her face, which anyone who relied on sight would find troublesome but Misa finds easier than constantly trying to tie it back.

Personality: Due to having been raised in Halvanna Misa is much more social, talkative and cosmopolitan than the typical Serokai, though she is very much dedicated to her people's traditions and beliefs, such as never using a weapon.

Misa often uses her blindness for humour, particular when people forget the fact she is blind (by asking her how they look for instance, to which she wryly replies "So good I can't take my eyes off of you."). She does this because she dislikes people treating her as fragile or otherwise walking on eggshells around her. By making fun of her own blindness she hopes others will take the hint that it does not bother her.

Background: Misa is the daughter of the Arian Ambassador to Halva and, as a result, has spent most of her life in Halva rather than her father and mother's native Aria. Without a doubt Misa's most defining historical 'event' is that she was born blind, something not as uncommon within the Serokai Kinship as it is in the general populace. In fact, Misa's parents declined various offers to attempt to heal her ailment in favour of having Misa master her inherent precognitive abilities to the extent where she can now not only pinpoint exacty where people are, but she can also tell their shape, size, build and various other little details almost instantaneusly.

In the last few years Misa has used her advanced precognitive abilities in a rather unusual way by making clothes for people. She is in fact very well known in Halva for how well her clothing fits people, as Misa can tell exactly what sort of size and dimensions someone is almost intuatively and make the clothing to that person's exact specifications. The only thing that has stopped her becoming more renown in the past is her obvious limitation when it comes to colour as, while she is considered an excellent fitter and dress-maker, her clothing tends to be of very reserved and basic colours because Misa's experience with colours simply comes through trial and error, having never even seen a colour before.

While Misa, through her parents, knows a great many of Halva's most influencial people and families, she spends much of her time and is most well known for her close friendship with Didina Reid, a Tiefling Telepath and minor noble with somewhat of a 'cult following' among younger nobles and other minor nobles. The two are good friends who often attend Halvan social events together to avoid unwanted attention (as far as Misa is concerned) or attention from unwanted people (as far as Didina is concerned).

RP Sample: "Honestly, I do not know how you can stand sewing, it looks so indeniably dull and boring." The playfully sarcastic tones of Didina Reid filtered throughout Misa's small shop as she was making the finishing touches on a client's shirt. "Not to mention it must calous your fingers by doing it so quickly." The well dressed Tiefling wrinkles her nose in distate at the idea of her hands being marred before caefully inspecting her own, perfectly manicured, hands.

Misa chuckles at her friend's antics, but just as she is about to reply both she and Didina (through her telepathic abilities) feel someone approach and the two turn towards the door just as it opens with the light tingling of the bell above the door chiming out. "Can I help you...?" The Monk asks, having paused mid-stitch. Were she not blind Misa may not have needed to ask that as standing in the doorway was an incredibly well-dressed man wearing the symbolof the Halvan royal family proudly on his chest.

"I am here to personally deliver an important message on behalf of His Royal Highness, King Vulcar II. You two are Misa Serokai and Didina Reid, correct?" They both nod, after which the man promptly hands them their letters. "You need not send a reply back. If you wish to accept His Majecty's invitation then you need only arrive at the appointed time." He gives an almost ridiculously low bow. "Have a pleasant day young misses." As the messenger leaves Misa does not need to see to know that Didina must be smirking or smiling, afterall, a personal invitation to meet the king is bound to increase her standing.

While Misa continues to work on her shirt, Didina quickly reads the letter and beams. "Oh, my no-good father is going to be red in the face when he hears about this." The Tiefling laughs a little harshly at this, although Misa knows it is probably deserved. "Are you not going to read yours Misa?" Almost as soon as Didina lets it slip she realises her mistake, but not quick enough to stop her friend from pouncing on it.

"Sure, just let me get my reading glasses." Both of the friends proceeded to laugh, though Misa knew that Didna's mind was already whirring on how exactly she could use this opportunity to her advantage. 'Same old Didina.'

DMing...: Trials of the Young King [3.5, Full] | Working on...: The Godling Sagas [PF, Gestalt, TotYK Sequel]

Last edited by Makenshi; Mar 10th, 2009 at 02:05 PM.
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Old Nov 25th, 2008, 09:45 PM
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Name: Nëvh Rudaa ╚╬╝
Race: Human: Rudaa
Sex: Female
Age: 36
Class: Druidic (Avenger + UA Druid variant), Human Paragon, Swordsage, Chameleon (Races of Destiny p.112)
Alignment: True Neutral, now leaning good.
Deities: Faithless. Venerates Fenrir, Jester, Fisali, L'arabiel.
Specialty: Versatility. Tracker. Front fighter.
Traits & Flaws: Meager Fortitude flaw and Slow trait.
Bonus Skills: Craft (Sculpting), Perform (Violin) & Knowledge (The Betrayer Wars)










Roleplaying Sample:


Last edited by Blue; Feb 4th, 2014 at 07:04 PM.
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Old Nov 26th, 2008, 01:39 AM
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Sedracus Sedracus is offline
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Name: Amandus
Class: Gate/Warlock/Eldritch Advent
Sex: Yes please, if you're female (He's a male)
Age: 42
Race: Atralumi
Slivers of Public Knowledge about Amandus:
Amandus, who grew up in the slums of Halvana, quickly worked his way up the pecking order with his charming manners and quick wit, and attaining a reputation for being willing to do all sorts of jobs as long as he was confident he would be able to do it. He has traveled the lands for a number of years, only few countries have been spared his womanizing ways for the time being, because he hasn't gotten around to them yet.
If you feel you'd know more about Amandus: PM me with a good reason, and I'll consider telling you more.

From the Staff Forum: "Added to my to do list: enshrine Sed's personal account details as 'Official Site Documents' " ~Birched

Last edited by Sedracus; Dec 1st, 2008 at 08:23 AM.
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Old Nov 26th, 2008, 10:32 AM
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LordSoul LordSoul is offline
Bad, bad boy
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Last Visit: Sep 10th, 2009
Posts: 154
Name: Argyl Rasuil, 'The Bronze Eyed Scholar'
Race: Aasimar
Sex: Male
Age: 43
Class: Cleric of Tiaan 10 (Cloistered Cleric variant, UA pg 50)/Apostle of Tiaan 4 (from Paragnostic Apostle, CoC pg 95)
Alignment: True Neutral
Deity: Tiaan
Specialty: Divine spellcaster, healer, advisor
Traits & Flaws: Distinctive (+1 Rep, -1 Disguise)
Bonus Skills: Craft (Calligraphy), Perform (Mandolin)





Last edited by Makenshi; Nov 26th, 2008 at 12:07 PM. Reason: Character Sheets are supposed to be secreted ;).
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Old Mar 17th, 2009, 10:25 PM
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LordJecks LordJecks is offline
A Mystery EvenTo The Gods
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Name: Sorrian "Harlequin" Nom
Race: Kigo
Sex: Male
Age: 23
Class: Scout/Assassin/Shadow Hand Assassin
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Deity: Ruaci
Specialty: Stealth, Infiltration, Speed, Scouting, Assassination, Information, Shadow Hand Network Connections, DPS
Traits & Flaws: Quick, Skinny & Shaky
Bonus Skills: Knowledge (Halvan Local), Knowledge (Shadow Hand)





Character Details
From the ashes of a crappy year I return stronger and slightly crazier than before!

Last edited by LordJecks; Mar 17th, 2009 at 10:57 PM.
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Old Jun 6th, 2009, 11:49 PM
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Watcher Watcher is offline
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Name: Syltar Dragonblaze
Race: Ruby-touched Halvan
Sex: Male
Age: 24
Class: Sorcerer 5/Dragonheart Shaper 10
Alignment: Neutral Good
Deity: Tiaan
Specialty: Spellcasting Powerhouse
Traits & Flaws: Frail - Syltar looks gaunt, pale and suffers from coughing fits from extended physical exertion.
Bonus Skills: Profession: Scribing, Knowledge: Politics




Sample Role-Play

Contrary to popular opinion, the plural of anecdote is not facts.

Last edited by Watcher; Jun 19th, 2012 at 12:22 AM.
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Old Jun 7th, 2009, 02:00 AM
SpatulaOdoom SpatulaOdoom is offline
Pretty cool Wyrm
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Morgan Wainraith

Name: Morgan Wainraith
Race: Plain human
Sex: Male
Age: 30
Class: Wizard11 Fatespinner4 (Complete Arcane page 37)
Alignment: Neutral Good
Deity: Airis.
Zodiac: The Arbiter
Specialty: Arcane magic: Generalist arcane, minor specialization in transmutation. planning and deduction. Clockwork devices.
Traits/Flaws: None
Bonus skills: Craft: Painting Landscapes Craft: Clockwork, Feat: Iron Will
Description: Noticeably tall Morgan has wide shoulders and large hands with a lean build. His wild hair and short beard form something of a mane of hair around his head. His skin is fair and his nose has been broken but well set sometime in the past. He rarely wears the robes allowed as his status as a recognized archmage, and prefers common trousers and a vest over light shirt. Despite this he is appealing in a scruffy but friendly manner.
A pipe made of dark wood and ebony is often dangling from his lips though it is most often unlit.
In contrast to this general appearance Morgans dark hazel eyes are piercing and focused. Once you notice his eyes it's difficult to take him for some sort of simpleton or gadabout.

Personality: Morgan is very easygoing, a very zen person. Despite all that has gone on in his life he "basically figures that people should just do what makes them happy". Of course what makes some people happy might make others unhappy, but then he supposes they should either do something about it or find another way to be happy with their life.
His unusual upbringing, uncertain social status, and strange powers and visions, have left him little connection to the high society folks and even less with "the common man". This leaves him feeling somewhat like an outsider, tolerated, even appreciated, but not part of the group. He is most comfortable interacting with others around a gambling table, across the study halls of academia, or in other situations where the interaction has some sort of focus.
He is empathetic (though not necessarily sympathetic) and tries to look at every situation from multiple angles, feeling it gives him a fuller view and better chance of making the correct choice.
Despite his apparent devil-may-care attitude some of the teachings of Airis have not faded entirely and he looks upon the downtrodden as in need of help. His charity usually consists of showing others how to help themselves with a small boost to get them started.
Morgan is adamant about letting others make their own decisions, and about letting those others suffer the consequences of their decisions. He believes that people learn more, gain a deeper understanding, by actually working out problems on their own than simply being told the solution to the problem.
He is very protective of those he considers family or close friends and can become irrationally angry and violent when they are threatened.

Thanks to all the great great GM's. Especially: Makenshi, Birched, Savoylen, Davion, and Homestarbaby.

Last edited by SpatulaOdoom; Jun 21st, 2013 at 05:46 PM.
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Old Mar 19th, 2010, 12:11 PM
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DoubleL1987 DoubleL1987 is offline
Always The Kawaii Addict
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Name: Morgan Crescent (Real last name: Redgrove)

Race: Human Lakarn of Lust

Sex: Male

Age: 24

Class: Bard 10 / Seeker of the Song 1 (Page 56: Complete Arcane)

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Deity: Laftiil – while not overtly religious, Morgan just can’t help but no admire a goddess who, on top of being beautiful, enjoys living a carefree and slightly controversial lifestyle, much like his own.

Specialty: Support/Social interactions

Traits & Flaws: Polite

Bonus Skills: Craft (Sketching), Knowledge (Useless Trivia)

Description: Standing at just a little over six-foot-two, the waif-like and lanky man is hard to miss in normal company, and that’s without noticing the fact that he has other reasons to stick in someone’s memory. His silver hair is long and straight, falling down to between his shoulderblades and tied into a simple ponytail with a pair of gold bands. The eyes that peek out from under the long fringe are a deep dark blue, though instead of a piercing, icy gaze it would give any other person, on Morgan they appear to be warm and comforting, assuring anyone looking into them that they are in good hands.

The eyes are set in a lightly-tanned, clean-shaven face with high, delicate cheekbones and a full mouth that is prone to fall into a lazy, rather flirtatious smiles when he’s not busy talking up a storm. His looks tend to be described as “Just beautiful…”, “Gah, stupid pretty-boy!” or “I’ll kill him, I swear I will!” depending on which women, man or furious father you ask.

Morgan prefers the finer things in life when it comes to his clothing, and is often found wearing various silk shirts, most often in bright blue or yellow (the more they make him stand out, the better) and fine black slacks accentuated with black boots polished to a mirror finish. He usually carries a battered but well-cared-for lute carried on his back.

Personality: Morgan tends to embody the image of the womanising bard who is light in coin and pays his way with a well-sung song and a few whispered affections. He cares very little for the outside world at large, living from moment to moment and enjoying it. Morgan enjoys laughing and telling stories, and is at his happiest when he’s at the centre of attention and entertaining others. He is incessantly weak when it comes to the fairer sex and will flirt with anything that would look good in a skirt – despite the fact that his Lakarn abilities would make this terribly easy, he prefers to rely on his natural charm and songs, relishing the challenge of the hunt more than the aftermath, though that is pleasurable too. Of course, there is a negative to this – Morgan is as likely to try to romance the devious countess attempting to poison the party as he is the innocent and wholesome schoolteacher.

Despite his easy-going nature, the Lakarn has a dark side to him. When someone manages to anger him, they will find out that the bard is as adept at causing damage as he is at weaving words and music notes together. He very rarely forgives, having learnt the hard way that there is little to be gained by letting an enemy live, and everything to lose.

While not caring too much for other people as long as they don’t interfere too much with his life, some small measure of the old holy knight remains in him. He doesn’t tolerate ill-treatment of women or children, and is a complete sucker for a girl in distress…Moreso than he usually is with girls.

Background: Some people have their entire lives planned out for them while still in the womb, a father idly rattling off his dreams for his future son or daughter while the mother only smiles in bemused fashion as she feels a new life growing inside her. Sometimes it turns out to just be idle chatter and other times it becomes reality. In the case of Morgan Redgrove, born 24 years ago to Arthur and Crystal Redgrove, it was the latter. His father had been the fifth generation of men in their family to serve with distinction in the Knights Of Shali - a group of holy warriors united under the banner of the kingdom and its deities, and there was no doubt in anyone's mind that the newborn would eventually follow in the same path. From an early age, where other children would play with toys or run around playing hide-and-seek, Morgan was taught the finer nuances of hand-to-hand combat, archery and swordplay. He was raised on the Paladin's code of honour and as such often invited eye-rolling from the other youths when he lectured them on playing in the mud, or trying to eat candy before dinner-time. Needless to say, he was a slightly isolated child.

At age 10 he was finally enrolled with the Knights as an apprentice, the training he had received as a child paying dividends immediately. He was soon drawing the attention of the chief Knight, Sir Brandon Hardhelm. The leader took interest in the young man and soon recruited him as his own personal squire. Morgan was more than happy to accept the position, knowing that he could learn much from the man who had been at the head of the organisation for the last thirty years and was known as the single-most skilled Paladin in the entire country. It was this stringent life of law and morality that hid the truth from himself about what he was, a Lakarn, a creature created out of the raw emotion of lust. While sometimes the urge and need to be free seemed large enough to make him break out of this pattern, the voice of quavering authority that had been with him since he was little, stating that it was good and right to this way, ultimately smothered it back down.

On one of his missions, he happened upon a young bard being attacked by several bandits and came to her aid. The young girl was immensely thankful, and pleaded with him to stay the night with her so she could make him a meal and perhaps compose him a song by way of thanks. Though hesitant, good decorum eventually mandated he stay behind. The young bard eventually played him a song on her lute, and something inside him seemed to come alive at that, something that had been bottled-up inside for far too long.

That was the first night he had consciously been aware of the pheromones he had always unknowingly kept in check for fear of disapproval from the elders in the order. He felt them wafting out towards the young woman, saw her pause and look up at him with her beautiful, playful smile as she put down the instrument and made her way over to him, lightly wrapping her arms around him and whispering her thanks for his saving her. In that moment, the true creature that had lurked inside the shell came out, and he embraced her before placing a deep kiss on her lips.

That was the first night of many they spent together…

Of course, life could never remain so idyllic. The ever-changing personality of the young Lakarn brought suspicions from the commanders in his unit, especially Hardhelm. Eventually, they placed the blame on Will, his bardic lover, for changing and “corrupting” the pure holy knight. It was discovered that she was actually of Sharak descent, the runaway child of one of the dukes. In the xenophobic city and considering the hostile relationship between the two countries, this would be bad enough, but her being the child of one of the more prominent members of the nobility led to her being dragged from Morgan’s house by members of his own order while he was placed under house arrest until after her execution.

The hours drifted past, Morgan locked in his room with three heavily-armed paladins standing guard outside. His eyes kept drifting around the room, picking up on small items that reminded him of Will, of the time they had spent together the last two years. Finally, his eyes fell on her lute, the instrument she had been teaching him the last few months. He had a natural aptitude, she had said – his fingers much more suited to playing an instrument than swinging a sword and ending someone’s life. He closed his eyes, his hands balling up into fists – the girl had shown him a side of him he had never known, had made him happier than any promotion or commendation from his superiors had ever done and now…Now he was just going to sit here and let her die?

In that moment, the final boundaries holding back his abilities gave way, and he confidently strode to the door, knocking on it and asking for a glass of water from one of the guards. When it opened, the two sitting at the table were instantly struck by a wave of Morgan's pheromones and instantly sported two identical friendly grins, waving politely at Morgan. The one with the glass of water, though, felt most of his free will slipping away as Morgan suggested he escort him to the prison where Will was being held. The paladin struggled mentally with the command, but eventually led him out to the prison. It took a few more enticements, and once he was forced to use his enslaved paladin to pummel another, more resistant one into unconsciousness, but eventually he reached and freed Will. By the time Hardhelm screamed in fury when he came to collect her for her execution, the pair was long gone.

Fleeing through the streets of the city and ducking and diving into various alleys, Morgan was eventually forced to stop as the fatigue and maltreatment of the last few days caught up with Will. Holding the panting, half-conscious girl against him, he leaned against the wall of an inn and whispered comforting words to her, even as his ears heard the rumbling footsteps of the guards coming closer. He was fully prepared to fight them despite the odds if it meant giving Will enough of a chance to get away when the inn's door opened and he found a young man giving the pair a searching look. At the same time, Morgan felt a small twinge of recognition - not of the man's face, no, that was unknown to him, but there was something about him that resonated with the Lakarn.

"Well, are you two going to just stand out there and wait for those pricks to come along and drag you both back to the gallows, or are you going to come inside?"

"I...How do I know I can trust you?"

"I could tell you a myriad of reasons, but do you really have the time to listen to all of them?"

Looking down the street to where the first plumed helmet just crested the rise, Morgan reasoned that if the man was going to betray them, it wasn't much better than staying out here - at the very least, it would buy them a few moments. He gently pulled Will inside just as the knights came running past, and followed the man up to his room. That was where he revealed himself as Kato Vice, a member of Shalian royal entourage, and when Morgan asked why he would help the two of them, Kato replied that it was always a pleasure to stick it to the more bigoted sections of the Shali society.

While Will recovered, the two men passed the time by talking about how the situation had come about, which is when Kato revealed that he too was a Lakarn. He offered to find the two of them quiet and discrete passage out of the country, and quickly overruled Morgan's objections that he was already risking enough for them.

"Look, Morgan - the way I see it, you two are worth the risk to help."

"You're a strange man, Kato...But I will only accept your help if you accept my debt to you. If you ever require the few meager skills I have command of, simply put out the word - I'll find out and come find you."

Kato agreed, and a few hours later, the two were smuggled out of the city in the back of a carriage reserved for the more noble of the city's citizens, knowing there was little chance of it being stopped to be searched, and being dropped off at a crossroads leading to various other cities and ports.

The two were now fugitives, and Morgan himself was branded a traitor. Both decided that, no matter how hard it was, they couldn’t be together again – the chances of them being caught if they were together was just too great. The two lovers shared a quiet and loving farewell, before Will departed to the West while Morgan headed East, but not before she gave him her lute and tearfully admonished him to keep practicing.

Since that day, Morgan has been wandering the continents and coming out of his shell and into an embodiment of his kind, avoiding his home kingdom despite having changed his name. He continues his dedication to music, the only physical reminder of the first girl he ever loved, and likely the last…
"How selfish soever man may be supposed, there are evidently some higher principles in his nature, which interests him in the fortune of others, and render their happiness necessary to him, though he derives nothing from it, except the pleasure of seeing it." - Adam Smith

Last edited by DoubleL1987; Jul 10th, 2010 at 07:26 PM.
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Old Jun 20th, 2013, 11:00 AM
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Battlechaser Battlechaser is offline
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Posts: 12,576
Name: Léon
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 25
Class: Psychic rogue 15
Alignment: Neutral good
Deity: Fenrir
Specialty reconnaisance, intelligence agent, problemsolver, search and retrieval expert
Traits and flaws: Skinny, suspicious, frail
Bonus skills: Knowledge (Thieves' guild), craft (woodcutting)

Ever alert, Léon's dark brown eyes vigilantly take in every detail of his surroundings. Walking with a grace reminiscent of a great feline predator, the spy keeps to the shadows as he neares the Citadel. His black clothing makes it easier to blend into the the darkness. The wary guards had no idea he was observing them, calculating their pace, waiting for the most opportune moment to...Now...Léon rushed to the wall and levitated over the crenallations and in to the courtyard. Swiftly and silently he made his way to the Commander's quarters. Dimming the creaking of the door Léon crept in and stood behind Marcell.

"You could enter through the gate, you know Léon?" the Prince smiled as he continued to take notes.

The ghost of a smile played over Léon's face "Where would be the fun in that?" Pouring water in a glass, he sipped and continued " They do need to change their rhythm. They're getting predictable."


Suspicious by nature - off course growing up in the Slums has intensified this trait - Léon will not quickly trust anybody else. But when you've earned it, the thief will storm the gates of Hell for you if necessary - although in Léon's case he would probably just sneak in, free you and steal anything that is not nailed down before the devils even notice they've had a visitor.

Léon tries to be prepared for anything, you never know when an opportunity presents itself. When on a mission the thief does not let himself be distracted and remains focused on the target. Inquisitive and loving a good challenge he is (street)wise enough not to storm in blindly: Léon takes his time observing his mark while subconciously carving beautiful figurines from pieces of wood he "found" somewhere, mentally writing down weaknesses, habits and whatever he can use.



Last edited by Battlechaser; Jun 20th, 2013 at 04:32 PM.
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Old Jun 20th, 2013, 07:00 PM
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DiabolicalGenius DiabolicalGenius is offline
Great Wyrm
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Last Visit: Jun 16th, 2023
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Posts: 5,582
Name: El'lina ~ Humility of the First-Born Tal'gos
Race: Noble Drow Child of the Dark (LA bought off)
Sex: Female
Age: 123
Class: Unarmed Swordsage 12 / Master of Nine 2
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Deity: The Sword in the Dark
Specialities: Not being seen or heard unless she wants to be, engaging in mortal combat, guerilla warfare & deflating egos.
Traits & Flaws: Murky-Eyed
Bonus Skills: Knowledge (Yeste the Chain-Breaker) & Knowledge (Invidia)
Picture: Can't find anything that I like and can't draw period.

Description: As she moved the dim light from the orb mounted to the wall nearby illuminated her form for a moment. She was very obviously drow, showing those features much more strongly than the drow-touched people were used to seeing. Her dress was typical of her people, mismatched and unconcerned with appearance, and chosen for the optimum level of mobility and freedom of movement. High boots made of tough leather, a leather skirt with several slits to separate it that hung loosely over bare thighs, her upper-arms and elbows bare but with leather gloves covering her arms up to the elbow with the fingers left bare, and a tunic cinched tight with a thick belt with pouches attacked. A cloak is also worn, but is currently swept back behind her shoulder with the hood lowered. All in a mixture of muted greys and browns, all jumbled and altered to fit as needed. On the other hand far more care has been give to the numerous weapons plainly visible. A pair of blades long enough to be short swords are sheathed at the back of her waist, the care and condition of the weapons plain just from looking at the hilts. The leather cord wrapped around the grips looks freshly tied and small crystal sphere gleams in each pommel. The blades are well sheathed and look slightly curved, tapering at the point. As well as those, there are a pair of daggers in sheaths sewn into each boot, which only show themselves to be forged from cold iron when drawn, and a second pair sheathed in a harness so that the pommels hand down on her back, these forged from silver. While the clothes barely seem worth noting, and he weapons get a hint of respect from a knowing eye, it's the woman herself who makes the greater impression.

A woman of about five-and-a-half feet in height, she is slender and long of limb and moves with a flowing grace like a big cat. All of her visible skin is smooth and unblemished, and black as obsidian. Not a dark skin tone, but black as Indian Ink and gleaming slightly in the light. And whilst it might be unblemished, this is misleading as she has had plenty of scars in her time, more than she can count. It is simply that the Children are very well prepared with their healing magic, and that for some reason Humility herself seemed to heal any small scars quickly, leaving little trace. Perhaps a boon from her father's blood, though if so she could happily do without it. Slender yet still in possession of womanly curves, emphasised by her graceful movements, it would easily be enough to quicken the pulse of the average man and captivate him if she only made half an effort to dress in a more appealing manner. Slender attractive hands are visible, though a close inspection will reveal closely trimmed nails and calluses on both fingers and palms from constantly wielding a sword. Her heart shaped face is crowned by a head of pure, snowy white hair that would surely be beautiful if it was grown long and combed, and not casually cut off at the nape and swept back by hand. Her features are slightly less sharp that the average Ahekan drow, and the pointed ears slightly longer, hinting at something else in her blood. But most of all it's the eyes that grab one's attention. Her big eyes are a vivid, emerald green in colour and almost seem to glow with an inner light, seeming to gleam out from within the darkness of her face. Her expression is calm, focused but with a hint of bitterness under the surface.

Personality: Included as a part of the background.



Roleplaying Sample:


"After the game, the king and the pawn go into the same box."
Italian proverb

Last edited by DiabolicalGenius; Jul 2nd, 2013 at 09:00 PM.
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Old Jun 28th, 2013, 08:52 AM
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Acathala Acathala is online now
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Posts: 21,697
Name Nallaul Rilyn'und

Race Common Drow

Sex Male

Age 180

Class Wizard/Arachnomancer

Alignment CN

Deity Lolth, but only because of no choice in the matter

Specialty Arcane wizard specialising in battlefield control, spider wildshaping and spiderlike abilities

Traits & Flaws Inattentive - whilst tremorsense compensates for this, the legacy of his illness as A baby affects his perception.

Bonus Skills Knowledge - Drow History. Perform - Drow Ballads.

Description Nallaul unsually for drow, keeps his white-blond hair short and tidy, which accentuates his panther-like visage. He is fond of finery and keeps to the latest fashions. The mage is fairly tall for a male. When he is thinking, he tends to stroke his hair. His red eyes seem to burn like hot coals when he's angry. In spider form he resembles a typical monstrous spider of it's size.

Personality Nallaul like many drow is a pragmatictist. His main goal is survival. Since he is continuing to be a surviving member of House Rilyn'und he has up to now been successful in that goal, and because he is a drow, he has had to do many things that went against his nature to survive, which has hardened his heart somewhat, and made him largely apathetic about drow society in general.
He did genuinely care for Xufaer, but he knew that relationship was doomed. Also like Xufaer, his first devotion is to magic. Which was probably the reason he was attracted to Xufaer in the first place. He is not willing, even if he attains the same level of power as Xufaer to challenge her for the Archmage of the City position. However if she is assassinated by somebody else, then Xufaer's successor is going to have a Nallaul shaped problem. Sometimes he hates Xufaer for the hold she has on his heart, but this never lasts long
Generally Nallaul is polite, even to the non-drow. You never know whom will be useful in the future. However he does have a habit of calling human servants/slaves Bob as he can't bothered remembering their names.
Surprisingly he does have a conscience, which makes him regret some of the things he's done, some of the people he's murdered. These are not views he ever expresses, because he doesn't wish to be dragged up to the sacrificial alter. He has rationized this guilt by thinking if he did not do these things then he would be killed. Nallaul is not someone whom is naturally evil, but he will do whatever it takes to ensure his own survival. Yet his killing of a child, has made him question himself again, whether the price of survival is worth paying anymore
Although he does play lip service to Lolth, he is not a true worshipper. Fisali's appearence in the underdark has perturbed him and he isn't too sure what it means. He had intended to ask Tel'shar about Fisali when the bard returned, since for obvious reasons he can't ask the clerics of Lolth. However, Tel'shar and him only had the briefest of reunions before the bard left. Although he is not aware of this yet, he is dissatisfied with his current life, and drow culture in general. A void in him which cannot be filled in the City of Spiders, a void that he has seen others fill with veneration for the Spider Queen. The last tenerous grasp he of faith he had in Lolth, snapped when her priestesses made him kill the baby.

Early Life
Nallaul was born to a Drow washerwoman who lived next to the brothel where Tel'shar would be born. He was a sickly baby and his mother considered leaving him outside to die. However she decided to keep him. It was fortunate for Nallaul that he recovered quickly as his mother may have reconsidered her position. It was fairly obvious from a young age Nallaul was a bright lad whom devoured every bit of knowledge that he could. His mother encouraged this, as she saw potential in selling him to a noble house, even procuring for him a couple of books full of lore for him.
It is uncertain when and how Nallaul and Tel'shar first met, as both have conflicting stories about how they first met. Nallaul claims Tel'shar tried to con him out of some sweets, Tel'shar claims the sweets originallly belonged to him. Whatever the truth they became good friends, getting in and out of scrapes that drow children are wont to. Nallaul saw his first naked female thanks to Tel'shar, and Tel'shar got a better education than he would have done, thanks to Nallaul being a brainbox. However nothing is constant in the underdark, and things would change when Nallaul came into his powers.
The young Nallaul first gained the ability to faerie fire objects. Naturally he experimented until he could cast dancing lights and darkness. He showed Tel'shar his new abilities. His friend was both envious and saddened he didn't share these abilities yet. Tel'shar also understood that because of those abilities, Nallaul would soon be leaving him. He was right. As soon as Nallaul's mother found out about Nallaul's powers, she managed to arrange a test from House Rilyn'und whom were on the look out for new talent. Of course he passed, and his mother was paid a pittance of a finder's fee which seemed a fortune to her. However to his shame when Nallaul was tested properly, he did not possess the full range of drow magical abilities, like the famed spell resistance. He was still retained by the house as it was agreed he showed promise.

Nallaul The Wizard
The Matron Mother decideed that Nallaul, given his arcane talents would be trained in magic and was assigned to a minor wizard called Sejun. Here Nallaul found his vocation in magic and despite his tutor trying to slow him down, Nallaul quickly progressed in spellcraft. The mage also developed his spell-like abilities in unusual ways, like combining Darkness and Faerie Fire to see the invisible. However he was to realise that he was swiftly approaching the level of his master, and his master was not pleased about this and was planning on killing him. So Nallaul decided to get his self-defense in first. He was to get his chance when House Rilyn'und led the assault against a House that had turned from Lolth. Once the battle had been won, Nallaul cast Bands of Steel upon Sejun. Once the wizard was trapped, Nallaul slit Sejun's throat. The Matron Mother, althouigh there was no witnesses, knew full well that Nallaul had been the one to kill Sejun. Not that she cared, Nallaul had gotten away with it and there was no need to punish him. Instead she assigned him as an apprentice to Xufaer.
Xufaer had just disposed of one apprentice and was unhappy to have been given another. How Nallaul managed to survive the first few days is nothing short of a miracle, but he managed to win over Xufaer with his devotion to magic that matched her own. Eventually the relationship became sexual, though to most people that fact was only a rumour. She declared him a wizard in his own right once he reached the 10th level and also privately ended their physical relationship. During his time with Xufaer, he hadn't been just been learning magic. He had been on patrols, and even been assigned to some of the specail tasks that House Rilyn'und demands of it's members, which can range from taking part in the full assault of a rival house, to the simply delivering a message.

Along Came Some Spiders
On one such patrol outside the city, Nallaul was betrayed. Some of the "patrollers" turned on the others, efficiently slaughtering them. The drow arcanist was taken alive, the dagger that struck him was smeared with potent spider venom, paralysing him. Thinking his life was over, the young mage expected a finishing blow which never came. Instead he was smuggled back into the city, and placed into a sarcophagus located in an abandoned mausoleum. Curiously the lid was placed in such a way to allow him air. That meant whomever paid for his abduction either wanted something from him, or wanted a personal revenge. Neither option filled him with joy. Xul'olin was quickly discounted. If she was going to murder him, it would probably be in a fit of rage. He hadn't, as far as he was aware, offended or crossed any major Family members. The only name that made sense to him was Vlonrath, Sejun's apprentice. It had been rumoured that those two had been closer than master/apprentice, and Nallaul had certainly noticed the way they had looked at each other. Mentally rebuking himself for relaxing his guard against Vlonrath, Nallaul realsed he had another problem when he heard the pitter-patter of tiny legs. Tiny spiders made theit way into the sarcophagus, through the gap left for air, swarming over his body.

Yet Nallaul wasn't afraid. He had expected to be, but wasn't. More than that, he felt connnected to the tiny arachnid creatures, knowing somehow they saw him as one of their owwn. The mage was unable to explain it. They should have killed him. They did not. In a strange sort of communion is how Nallaul spent the next couple of hours with the Arachnid Swarm.
Breeze suddenly entered the sarcophagus as the lid was opened more fully. A gloating Vlonrath leaned over Nallaul. Her expression soon changed to surprised horror when she saw his companions. One by one they leapt onto her. There was screaming, and although Nallaul couldn't see it, he knew she had tripped over backwards when she tried to escape. Soon afterwards the screaming abruptly stopped. Later, when the paralysis had finally worn off, he reported to Xufaer. When he had finished, the Archmage Xufaer reached up for a book and handed it to Nallaul. Emblazened on it was the title, Arachnomancy.

Out For A Drink
Once when Tel''shar was back in the city, he and Nallaul decided to go for a drink in the town, deciding to go back to the old naighbourhood. Tel'shar had heard of a new place which they went to. Whilst enjoying their drinks in a private booth, somehow the conversation entered dangerous territory. "You forget Nal, my old friend, I know you. Xufaer has you wrapped round her little finger. Don't try to deny it. But, you're not thinking about the future are you? I'm good with people, so I can tell. Even as a boy you had ambitions for wozardry. Here you are now, like me, a high ranking member of the first house and you've reached the limit of your positon. Unless you....ah....retire Xufaer or someone else does it. Here's the kicker. Even if Xufaer is out of the picture, you're not even garenteed to succeed her. Plenty of other arcanists ready to apply for the position. Our beloved Matron Mother may back you, but only if there's no female qualifiied. We both know how she feels about males. The women may give us some fancy baubles, but never real power." He looks Nallaul in the eyes. "I don't think you'll ever be happy with the status quo, but no doubt you'll find a way to live with it. You're a survivor"
Nallaul privately agreed with everything Tel'shar said but couldn't resist sniping back at him. "You can talk all you want, and perhaps I may agree with you. As you say the women have all the power and there is nothing we can to do to change that. At least you can leave the city on your own. I have to live here."
Tel'shar leaned back with an enigmatic and knowing smile on that face of his. The effect was slightly ruined by him letting out a big old yawn, which surprised both of them. "The trip back must have taken more out of me than I thought" Tel'shar said, his eyes growing heavy.
Suspicious and fearing the worst of Tel'shar's sudden sleepyness, Nallaul cast detect poison. Both their drinks had been spiked with something. Due to his Arachnomancer abilities ha had easily resisted the poisoning. Managing to keep Tel'shar awake by slapping him, the somnolent bard unable to stop yawning to cast, directed Nallaul to a pouch on his belt. There inside, was a potion, which was quickly forced down Tel'shar's throat. Whilst waiting for the potion to take effect, Nallaul realised he had been observed.,
Out in the main bar, the doors had bee barred, and all the patrons had disappeared, whilst the bar staff were making their way to the duo's booth. Cursing under his breath, Nallaul cast web in the main area. Those whom weren't entangled, would find their movement severely limited.
"Teleport?" Tel'shar asked. The next unpleasant surprise was that they could not. Nallaul shook his head, then went for his favoured tactic of using cloudkill on the drow in the wab.. Once the screaming stopped, he dispelled the web. Two survivors remained. One looked like a common criminal, but the other gave Nallaul pause. She wore the robes of a priestess and more than that, Nallaul recognised her. "You're Shriel Talneth, aren't you? I knew your brother Angauf."
"Talneth? The name is familiar, can't place it though." Tel'shar said.
"Oh that was the House that was destroyed because it tried to poison the city water, in some sort of attempt to take over. Some of the priestesses managed to survive by turning on the Matron Mother and handed her over to Myr'delith. That was a particularly grusome execution when Myr'delith got her hands on her. I presume Shriel was one of the betrayers."
"I did not betray Matron Tluidi, I am loyal to House Talneth!!" Snarled the priestess, who then snapped out a spell.
Caught by surprise, Nallaul was subjected to an assault on his mind. As an arachnomancer, his mental defenses were not quite the equal of a normal wizard, and the spelll threatened to devestate his mind, turning him into a gibbering idiot. Centering himself, he gathered his mental strength and forced the spell from his mind. Tel'shar went invisible and had engaged the no-name minion, and Shriel had begun spellcasting again. This time Nallaul was the quicker and completed his spell. Instantly Shriel became a shade of grey, as she failed to resist the Flesh to Stone spell, and became a statue. At the same time Tel'shar finished off his foe with a stab to the heart, and looked at the new statue. "Nal, my friend I think I might know a collector!"

Wasn't Worth It, Was It?
One time a group of drow whom had committed heresy against Lolth fled the city. The Spider Queen decreed their complete slaughter. In a rare show of all Houses working together, drow of mixed Houses were sent to hunt them down. Nallaul was part of the group that found the heretics. Like a man possessed, he dropped down webs, whose power had been hieghtened to that of that of a stronger spell. Of course he could traverse the webs as easily as walking the streetsm and using his tremorsense, located small groups entangled in the webs. No mercy was shown, as there were a number of spellcasters, whom if they got free, could cause heavy damage. The Arachnomancer used cloudkill mainly to eradicate these groups. To his surprise, he found himself facing a fellow Arachnomancer. His nameless rival, transformed into monstrous spider form, clearly challenging him.
Nallaul accepted, his handsome frame changing into that deadly arachnid predator. Concealed by the magical webs, the battle raged. The two spiders rushed each other, biting with deadly envenomed fangs. Finding himself the receiver of several brutal bites all over his body, Nallaul realised his enemy was better at melee than he was. So he changed the rules, combining all the spell like abilities of the drow to create a bright flash, blinding the foe. Unlike his fellow spider mage, Nallaul had learned how to cast in spider form, and he used Disintegrate. The ray struck true, and the Arachnomancer's form was cast to the wind as it turned to dust.
Victory for the Drow of Lolth was swift after that, even managing to capture some prisoners. The Clerics of Lolth decided that Nallaul was the winner of the day and was given one of the "Honours" of Lolth. The mage was pleased until he found out the honour was the slaying of a heretic's drow baby for the glory of Lolth. This was not something he could refuse, because if he did, his death would folllow the baby's. So under the watchful eyes of the Priesteses, he ended the baby's life. Of course he had killed before, you could not be a high ranking drow without having killed, but that was usually against other drow who had murdered people, or were planning to kill you. I'ts different when it's an innocent baby looking up at you. Whilst he had heard stories of child murder, Nallaul never expected to be asked to do it, or that he could do kill a baby. He didn't want to do it, but he did it. A voice in the crowd whispered to him. "Wasn't worth it, was it? I could have told you that." Nallaul doesn't know for sure, but he suspects the voice was Xu'dein's.
When he returned to the city this was one of the few times he questions his own life before deciding on survival again, However he has lied to himself, the murder he committed, affected him far more deeply than he'd care to admit. Not enough to make a stand about it, the arachnomancer is far too much of a survivor for that, but perhaps if there was opportunity to leave...

The Exchange
Once Nallaul had helped the Exchange complete one of it's missions. A task which actually turned out to be a lot less dangerous than the Exchange had thought it was going to be. The cache they had been send to retrieve turned out to be not to have been discovered after all. Nallaul had been involved because at the time, the Exchange Arcanists could not be spared. He and his contact Sarajahn had returned to the building RV point, the other party members having dispersed to other RV points. Hal'iara was waiting on them inside, this wasn't the Exchange's main base, but one of their safehouses. Once they arrived in the room Hal'iara was using as an office, the Exchange leader started to speak. She was interrupted by the sound of combat outside in the corridor. Suddenly two drow assassins burst in through the window. They seemed unaffected by the magical wards that were on the window. Sarajahn was the quickest to react, drawing his greatsword and beheading one intruder. The other assassin drew a dagger and said a short incantation. Hal'iara easily dodged the first attack, and was about to respond, when the assassin got a lucky blow on her head, knocking her out. By this point, Sarajahn stepped to protect his mistress, and cut the assassin down. Nallaul too was busy. He spotted more assassins about to enter the window, foiling this by casting stone shape to seal the impromtu entrance off. Once they had secured the room, they attended to Hal'iara and found a big problem. The wound wouldn't heal, even with magical means. They decided to see what happening outside the room. Outside the room they were on a landing to a double staircase, guarded by a few loyalists against Exchange rebels. It appeared to be some sort of coup. However the rebels must have revealed themselves accidently, and now there was a pitched battle. However the loyalists gained a significant advantage. The rebels started to die in droves. Until the rebel leader came in, a sneering priestess. "One of the Talneth family we took in. There's gratitude for you." Sarajahn said. Ubfortunately he was the first target of her wrath, being hit with the spell Wrack. It didn't kill him, but it took him out of the combat. Nallaul however, accessed his spider power to cast Giant Vermin. Two spiders grew into monstrous spiders, flanking the priestess. When she failed as a cleric of Lolth to use her innate power to take control of the spiders, she faced her fate stoicly, and did not scream as they ripped her to bits. With the death of their leader, the pragmatic drows fled, and Hal'iara owed Nallaul a big favour.

An Arachnomancer's Life In Che'eldelorbben
He has takes up with Felynffyn at this time, which isn't really an relationship, more really two consenting adults......consenting. Nallaul is enjoying the occaisonal liaison for now, which he fits where he can. He doubts it will last long, given his experience with his Xufaer, but will enjoy it while it lasts
Speaking of her, Xufaer keeps him fairly busy with duties, and in her absence Nallaul acts as the unofficial House Wizard, unless something is urgent or serious enough to warrent Xufaer's attention. Generally he makes regular reports to her. Occaisionnally she shunts an apprentice onto for him to train. Such as Guldrilesril.
At first Nallaul found him a less than satisfactory student. His unwillingness to talk much at first led Nallaul to assume he wasn't going to be a good student. However once he did get Guldrilesril talking, NAllaul found he had a wizard with some natural.ability. It also helped when Guldrilesril confessed to wanting to be trained by Nallaul rather than Xufaer, as he wanted to become an Arachnomancer Though pleased Nallaul cautioned him. "Though the abilities can be learned,you need that spark of an connection to spiders. They need to see you not as you are, but as one of them." Unlike with Nallaul, it was not an instant success for Guldrilesril, and he required many doses of spider antivenom. Finally though the day came. Nallaul left Guldrilesril in a spider pen, and almost instantly a huge monstrous spider rushed to his apprentice. It looked for a moment it ws going to bite Guldrilesril, but it stopped, dripping venom from it's fangs, before leaving Guldrilesril in peace.
Next for Guldrilesril it was the ability to change into spider form. Again Nallaul had mastered this easily, but for Guldrilesril ir was a more difficult journey. Hw would often get stuck between forms, and this would often result in mockery from other members of the house. Perhaps that is why the tacitum half-drow developed a cruel streak of his own, Thanks though to Nallaul's patient teaching, Guldrilesril was finally able to take his own spider shape. This was the point Nallaul decided Guldrilesril had enough power to stand on his two(eight in spider form) feet. The senior Arachnomancer declares a delighted Guldrilesril a wizard in his own right.
On his mind currently is Fisali's glance at him, Gods don't just glance on you for no reason. He knows deep down his life will change, but not how or why.

Pulling The Legs Off The Spider
One day Nallaul awoke to pain. Xul'olin was straddling him, a bloody dagger in hand. He could sense a another, larger presence nearby. Although he could not see whom it was, the arachnomancer knew given it's size it had to be Amal'agh. It was a small mercy the Draegloth didn't seem to be joining in. At least he was sane enough to fear his aunts' wrath."Spider that creeps, creeps about the house, spying and prying on me. It's rude to stare don't you know?" Xul'olin said, and then Nallaul knew there would be no talking with her and tried to get up. For his trouble she whacked him in the face with the pommel. He then fell back down onto his bed, and experienced pain as Xul'olin alternately bashed and slashed. Nallaul realised he was going to die.
Help came in the form of a distraction, a servant that brought him his breakfast was sufficient to distract Xul'olin enough to let Nallaul get out from under her. She probably thought he had no chance of escape as he headed for a blank wall. However the crafty mage had an escape route there in the form of a previously cast Phase Door, stepping through before Xul'olin realised what he was doing. Nallaul arrived in a section of his room that had been sealed off from his main room, so that he would have a nice little hidey-hole, and instantly collapsed from his injuries. Forcing himself to wild shape into a tiny monstrous spider, Nallaul was able to close some of his wounds. Using a tiny hole he had created as an escape route within a escape route, he climbed to the outside of the building, making for the family chapel, knowing there would be at least several clerics there. Every step there caused him severe pain, but he reached the chapel. Where upon he collapsed again, reverting back to drow form. He knew nothing until he woke in a room he recognised as being part of the Academy.
Looking around he saw Xufaer. She noticed him awake then said "Well Nal, we know what happened. Xu'olin has been punished. She is confined to her quarters until my sister says otherwise. I am aware you will......not consider that much of a punishment. This should soften the blow." The Archmage offered him a staff, doubtless magical. Too right he did not consider confinement much of a punishment. Had Xul'olin been male and not female, she would have been executed for what she tried to do to him. Bitterness rose in his mouth, and he remembered what Tel'shar had once said long ago about baubles. Still though he took the proffered staff. "Thank you Xufaer. It was kind of you to think of me."

A Tangled Web
During a brief quiet time for House Rilyn'und, Umrae'vyrae's eldest daughter, Belvra returned from the Academy having graduated. Nallaul passed her as she was laying down the law to what was now a former lover, called Dhaunint. "It is over Dhaunint. Leave the House or I will have the soldiers throw you out, you worthless pitiful male!" Privately Nallaul was surprised. He could not remember Belvra being so forceful before. However he had not really seen her in several years, as she had been studying to become a full priestess. Putting it down to her having hardened in the Academy, Nallaul initially thought nothing of it.
Belvra took after her mother and was a recluse. Then the second odd thing occurred. Min'phrin, Belvra's younger sister, met with an accident. It wasn't enough to kill her, but it was enough to confine her to her room for a while. Alamen mentions casually she thought she saw Belvra near Min'phrin when the accident happened. The mage gets the vague impression something is wrong, but not what was wrong. Certainly the sisters quarrel, all drow siblings do at some point, but this feels different. For now Nallaul keeps quiet. Feeling is not evidence.
Finally the third odd thing occurs. He receives what appears to be a love letter from Belvra, asking him to meet her alone at the Cavern of Daggers, so called because of the stalactites that hang there. It is considered the prettiest thing not drow made. He does not trust the letter, but he complies.
At the cavern, he spots a monstrous spider hanging from the celing, then he sees Belvra, but now he knows it is not Belvra, as he had cast true seeing. Who it is surprises him. It is Matron Mother Tluidi of the former House Talneth. She gave him a sneering smile and threw a large rock at him, as various drow warriors emerged from their hiding places. Nallaul tried to speak, then realised the rock must carry a silence spell. Instead he spoke with Drow Sign Language. "Matron Mother Tluidi Talneth. Alive I see, and not one of the undead. Since I am doomed, will you satisfy my curiosity?"
He hopes she's a gloater. She looks like one. The golden-eyed cleric tosses her long silver hair back and laughs. "Since you are about to die, why not? You have been troublesome, more than any male I have known. But I will tell you, so you can appreciate my brilliance!" Her slender fingers repled. "I escaped your House's wrath and punished a traitor at the same time. I knew Angauf had betrayed my plans, so I changed him to take my form permanently, ripped his tongue out, and broke his fingers. My daughters then took him to your Myr'delith, and claimed to have done the damage to prevent escape by spellcasting. Thanks to other safeguards she failed to detect that fool wasn't me. I shall have my revenge. Myr'delith will die and I will take her form!"
Nallaul cocked his head to the side, as if he didn't believe what he was hearing, or rather seeing. he deftly moved his fingers in reply. "Trying to poison the city water was a bad idea. Trying to take over the Exchange was a bad idea. This latest plan is the most bloody stupid idea you'll never get away with. You're a fool sweetheart, and if you want to why, look at the spider, bitch."
Eyes now full of murderous rage, Tluidi did remain calm and curious enough to look at the monstrous spider. It seemed to be moving it's front legs oddly.......No it was spellcastijng! It dispelled the silence, and now it was Nallaul's turn. Tluidi's men suddenly found their centre of gravity reversed, rammed up into the stalactites, those that were not impaled fatally would soon fall to their deaths. Tluidi tried to run, knowing she was not a match for two arachnomancers, but Nallaul stopped her flight via trapping her with the spell Bands of Steel. Guldrilesril climbed down and shed his arachnid form. " dead. Isn't she?"
"Sorry Guldrilesril. At least we can kill the bitch that did it together. I owed Angauf a debt I never repaid. This will have to do."
The younger arachnomancer nodded. "Spider form?"
In agreement they took the shape of the Sacred Arachnid. Tluidi, trapped and unable to escape, could only watch in terror as the spiders advanced on her,,,,

House Relationships
Matron Mother Myr'delith
- Nallaul, despite being a male, enjoys a somewhat stable working relationship with her. She values him for his spider abilities and on occaison, summons him to sing to her as she finds it soothing.

Archmage Xufaer - Once Nallaul was her apprentice, and the first one to survive the apprenticeship. However despite the break-up Nallaul is still the most favoured of her mages as she recognised her devotion to magic matches her own. Xufaer keeps a proud if somewhat wary eye on his progress. Xufaer is his main ally in the House, and so far this has protected him from Xul'olin and her son. However he understands this may count for naught if Xul'olin has one of her insane, murderous rages, given the fact he experienced one that nearly killed him.

Iymarra - Whilst Nallaul is worried that she might try to involve him in one of her schemes to oust her mother, the actual truth is she sees him as too closely aligned to Xufaer to be any use to her.

Umrae'vyrae - Of all the matron mother's daughters, Umrae'vyrae is the one Nallaul gets on best with. They converse mainly on magical matters, however Nallaul tends be cautious when discussing other topics. For her part she apprieciates that Nallaul will occaisonally bring her scrolls of spells that are unfamilar to her to study. There are times when he suspects she is unaware of the fact he trained her son.

T'rissafay - She wields a power that Nallaul does not understand or trust, so he is exceptionally cautious when dealing with her. Tel'shar once believed she had a crush on Nallaul and this was a source of much teasing of the Arachnomancer.

Xul'olin - She is one of the few people Nallaul is genuinely afraid of, as she nearly killed him, and he suspects she wants to finish him. He generally tries to avoid being alone with her and if that is impossible, tries to spend as little time as possible with her. The same goes for her son Amal'agh, though he is more confident with dealing with him, as the Draegloth is at least sane.

Faereidliir - Nallaul and Faereidliir have very little to do with each other, though occasionally they do go on patrol together. Privately Nallaul thinks that the right person is weapon master. Faereidliir is vain and arrogant enough to think that Nallaul will support any bid he makes to become weaponmaster, despite having no encouragement from Nallaul.

Weapon Master Alamen - Nallaul gets on fairly well with her. She is not a cleric whom can make demands on him, nor is she a true wizard whom could usurp his position. Nallaul is not a warrior so he cannot take Alamen's place either. Generally speeaking, if Alamen needs a favour, and it doesn't cost him too much, Nallaul will do it, and vice versa.

Felynda - Nallaul does feel pity for her being forced into being a cleric as they were friendly before, however this is not a thought he expresses, not even to her sister. Since Felynda's elevation to the clergy, they have seldom spoke as much as they once did. She is aware of his thing with her sister however. Nallaul is exceptionally cautious with her, given he knows how manipulative she is.

Felynffyn - Felynffyn is Nallaul's current lover. Nallual was drawn to her because they both liked singing, and because she was so passionate in everything. Neither regards the relationship as serious.

Tel'shar - Nallaul is the older brother Tel'shar never had. They both grew up in the same part of the city and looked out for each other, but Nallaul manifested his powers more quickly and in the presence of a Rilyn'und noble(who is now long dead). They did not meet again until Tel'shar and his daughters were taken into House Rilyn'und. They have been of mutual use to each other, Tel'shar occasionally providing information or an artifact from the suface, in exchange for payment or a magical service from him.

Guldrilesril - Once an apprentice shunted on to him by Xufaer. Nallaul has ended the apprenticeship, feeling Guldrilesril had learned enough to be considered a full wizard. They have parted on good terms, and indeed Guldilesril still sees him as a mentor.

Non house relationships
Sarajahn - This hexblade is Nallaul's contact to the Exchange. Nallaul likes his sense of humour, and enjoys meeting him.

Hal'iara Zilv'iira - The leader of the Exchange will occaisonally meet personally with Nallaul since as a high ranking member of the first House, he's an important contact. She current owes him a favour since Nallaul saved her from an assasination attempt.

RP Sample - Spider's Parlour
Tel'shar entered the mansion-like extradimensional dwelling that Nallaul practically called home. He knew that the mage had, at large expense, purchased a rod of extend, that allowed him to be able to live here for a few days per casting. It seemed since the incident with Xul'olin, Nallaul had ramped up his personal security. Not that Tel'shar blamed him. The bard had heard it had been a practicularly savage attack that had nearly killed the Arachnomancer. Looking around the opulent place, perhaps a little enviously, Tel'shar knew that Nallaul nust have detected him, and indeed Nallaul came down a stairwell.
The rumours that he needed a cane to walk were either untrue, or Nallaul had recovered enough not to need one. Dressed in the finest silks cut in the latest fashion of the day, the mage made an impressive figure. Nallaul was self-aware if the fact he was vain about his appearence, and was reasonably relaxed abour it, Those ruby red eyes of his locked on Trl'shar. "My old friend, this is a surprise. I thought you were you were going away back to the surface."
"Oh I was Nal, but I wanted to make sure you weren't going to do anything foolish." Tel'shar said, meeting Nallaul's gaze. "Like considering taking out a hit on Xul'olin and that abomination she calls a son."
Narrowing his gaze, the arachnomancer replied thusly "So what if I am?"
Tel'shar shakes his head. "Such a stupid move is unlike you Nal. Even in the best case scenario there will be a vendetta, that will target you and your allies. You will lose your protection from Xufaer and Myr'delith. As your ally, I'll admit a degree of self-interest of not being dragged to Lolth's altar. Take my advice. Wait. Xul'olin is insane, and she is bound to do something else that will force Myr'delith to act."
"Is she insane?" Nallaul remarked. "I sometimes think she pretends to be more crazy than she actually is. She certainly had presence of mind enough to break through various magical protections I cast." Somehow his tone become harsher when he speaks again. "It's all very well you telling me to wait, but Xul'olin might try again, and maybe she'll succede this time, Hell Amal'agh blames me for not dying and putting his nother in disgrace. Even if I kill her in self-defence, that's no surety against some sort of vendetta. We both know our lives are worth a lot less than a single female." He sits down. "I am finding it harder and harder to live like this. I wish this society would change, but it won't. I once considered leaving the city. I have picked up enough survival skills that I don't think food would be a problem, even consideing my magic. As for shelter." He waved his hand around thr mansion. "I could create this. The irony is I've made myself too useful. I'll never be alllowed to leave." Bitter laughter came from the Arachnomancer.
"Nallaul." Tel'shar said, rarely using Nallaul's full name. "I'm asking you to trust me. Wait a while longer. I have a plan."
Smiling rancorously Nallaul said. "What the hell? I'm screwed either way. Fine Tel'shar I'll wait my friend. I can't promise that Xul'olin will do the same."

Quia iocari libet mihi

Last edited by Acathala; Sep 4th, 2013 at 08:36 AM.
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Old Oct 29th, 2015, 01:10 AM
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Xian Xian is offline
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Name: Sei'Atum (Adam)
Race: Warforged
Sex: Male
Age: 75
Class: Erudite (4) / Warblade (1) / Jade Phoenix Mage (3) / Master Transmogrifist (8)
Alignment: Neutral Good
Deity: None
Specialty: Heavy Metal
Traits: Focused
Bonus Skills: Profession (Cooking), Knowledge (Warforged)

Description: Sei'Atum's body is forged from the finest mithral and lovingly crafted as much a work of art and love, befitting Aleni's first warforged. Still in spite of this, Adam's appearance was more construct than it was human, an attribute that Adam has always been acutely aware since his father created the True Forged. The fluidity and grace with which he moves belies his appearances and construct nature... a mercurial beauty of motion and art. Adam has bright expressive luminous eyes that are both intelligent, inquisitive, and alert at all times, but most importantly alive. His body is constantly shifting and incorporated within his form is the dragonshard core and the fluid metal weapon that was bestowed upon him by Sublime.

Personality: Adam has a devout belief in the freedom of the individual and self determination. Adam uses his skills and knowledge to help others regardless of the consequence. Adam acts as his conscience dictates without the constraints of the laws, traditions, and beliefs of others and does what he judges best at the moment without regards for the legal niceties. Adam knows that the gods exist and acknowledge their powers, but believes that person/individual makes their own destiny and so should not depend on or cede control of their destiny to the gods. Adam believes in Koleuth, but more as an ideal model to emulate and example of his shared ideals, martial prowess and the advancement of good through that prowess. In spite of the focused and serious demeanor Adam likes to portray, he has a sharp, albeit wry, sense of humor and is easy-going when among those he trusts and comfortable with. Adam loves challenges, especially in battle, and respects skilled opponents, to the point that he will refrain from killing a capable and honorable opponent in order to have worthy opposition to continue to sharpen his own skills against. Adam is innovative and canny opponent in battle and exploiting his martial and magical training to the fullest and always searching for novel applications for each of his disciplines, melding them together into fluid and deadly style along with his awakened psionic talent.

Adam believes in a moral universe and he believes that there exists a force for good, and that a person who gives their all to a good and worthy cause will find the universe on their side (or at least on their cause's side). But Adam's experiences, personal and through his adventures, clashes with this belief as he has experienced that reality is fundamentally unfair, such as the heartbreak of his father's abandonment after he and other warforged who went to fight for peace. Privately, Adam is angry and frustrated at his inability to reconcile his belief in a world in where heroism was possible with his experiences, which included the injustices visited by those whose causes he had fought for, the loss of dear friends while fighting in those conflicts, and his perceived rejection by his father of he and the other warforged when Aleni created the True Forged. Yet Adam continues to strive to be a hero believing that it is possible and, though seemingly impossible at times and ultimately unsatisfying. Adam wants to be a force for morality in an amoral universe. Adam has wanted to believe that heroism doesn't exist, that acting selflessly will have no meaningful consequence, and that he and the warforged should take care of themselves. However, Adam's belief in some good greater than himself and his character runs deep, and regardless of his anger and frustration.



Posting Status: On Hiatus... again. Gomen.
"The only way to do the impossible is to believe that they are possible."
I have taken the Oath of Sangus.

Last edited by Xian; Jun 1st, 2017 at 10:02 PM.
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Old Jan 17th, 2016, 04:23 AM
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Posts: 12,576
Name: Caspar Thelonious
Race: Atralumi, Selvas Kinship.
Sex: Male
Age: 67
Class: Cloistered cleric 5- runecaster 8 - divine oracle 3
Alignment: True neutral
Deity: Tiaan
Specialty: divine caster - blaster - backup healer
Traits and flaw: absent-minded, abrasive, Hallucinationsinattentive
Bonus skills: Knowledge (demongate wars), Knowledge (minerals, gems)

Wild peaks of grayish white hair rose up around two pointed ears. Multipele small gems weaved intricate flight-paths through this veritable mountainrange that was capped by two thick antilope-like horns. Two mismatched eyes- one the red of an old Burgundy wine, the other green as the grass on the other side of the hill- were surrounded by canyons of concentration-wraught wrinkles, that are interrupted by the white scar gouging his right eyebrow. Usually he walks around in a lab coat, splattered with stains in numerous colors, intermingled with scorch marks -the result of one too many bunnies that was blown into burning fragments. Household staff gave him the evil eye for weeks after that: cold meals, no cleaning of his room,... Not that Caspar noted. By the time he usually got around to eaten it was already cold, the sauces all gellified. And his room was only for sleeping one those rare nights Father Gustav scolded him to "Go to bed, you look like hell."

For his infrequent outside trips Caspar wore a custom-made black hooded mantle that hid the horns so he could go around without drawing too much attention - off course constantly mumbling to one's imaginary friend had the opposite effect. It also wrapped his lanky body in a comfortable warmth. If you go about before sunrise, temperatures tend to drop in mountainous areas.


Think of your most sharp-witted, charismatic teacher. You know the one with the witty remarks that could make his whole class laugh, yet could pull the ground from under the feet of the student who dared to ask stupid questions. The one whose lessons were so captivating even the Dean showed up regularly. The one that the female students dreamed about at night.

Now go to the other side of the spectrum and meet Caspar: intelligent, absentminded, clumsy, socialy inept and oblivious to his surroundings. Oh, he could get the job done - if it was interesting enough the Atralumi would focus his entire attention on it, forgetting the bare essentials like eating and sleeping until reminded. Take him out of his lab and he becomes nervous and self-conscious - his experience with other children taught him their cruelty and big crowds still give him pause. But his god has sent him out, so he had to obey. Besides think of the knowledge he could dig up in these books. "Right, Tulio?"

Growing pains"Freak!"



"No wonder your mother left you!"

Caspar clenched his hands against his ears, trying in vain to drown out the other children's chants. But the last remark elicited a sob of despair from the lanky boy. Hidden under a table in Father Gustav's workshop, he rocked slowly back and forth, his eyes staring blankly ahead. "Why are they so cruel, Tulio? I haven't done anything wrong. Nothing..." His whisper met a silent end as his friend did not reply - as usual. The bird just bobbed his head in a compassionate gesture. "Thank you, Tulio. What would I do without you?"

The young Atralumi sniffed hard, pulling a thread of snot back up his nose, while simultaneously wiping the tears from his eyes. All his efforts to make contact with the other children were for naught and Caspar was not sure if he could take more rejection. It did not help that his mind wandered off, distracted by hallucinations or random ideas popping up in his head. Nor that he had difficulty gauging the other children's intentions - Caspar was usually the last to realize they were mocking him- but he was learning. Slowly. But apparently not fast enough.

Dried blood had formed a meandering creek on his right cheek, the cut above his eye, where a stone had hit him, slowly crusting over. A sparkle of determination lit up his asymmetric eyes. "I'll make sure they can't hurt me no more." Caspar had read a book once -well usually several at a time- about an ancient form of magical defenses, imported by a now extinct species. It revolved about weaving spells into a single calligraphic sign, a rune if you will, and kept ready to be unleashed at any would be attackers. "I bet there are more books on the subject." And with a small spring in his step, the Atralumi set off to the monastery's library.

Eureka!"Caspar! What are you still doing here? The other children have gone to sleep." Father Gustav had sneaked up on the youngster. Well, not exactly sneaking, Caspar had been so focused on etching a rune on a crossbowbolt - the tip of his tongue protruding out of his left mouth corner- that he hadn't heard his mentor approach. Startled he looked up but he still managed to not ruin his work. A sigh of relief escaped his lips, before Caspar turned, beaming with a mixture of joy and pride. "I've done it, Father!" He had picked up the bolt and waved it at the priest. "I've finally managed to put a spell into the rune." Caspar loaded the handcrossbow that had been lying on the table. His erratic swinging with the loaded weapon caused Father Gustav to dive for cover and hit his head on the desk resulting in a huge bump and swimming vision. The Atralumi aimed at a pair of rabbits that was calmly eating a few leaves of lettuce in their cage and let fly. The bolt embedded itself into a beam just above the cage.

And Caspar was right: the rune worked. As soon as one of the rabbits moved, the spell was fired off and both rabbits were fast asleep. And so was Caspar. Tulio just stood there gawking at his imaginary friend. When he finally woke up, the boy's expression was a mixture of exultation and a bit of shame. "I just need to work on correctly gauging the distances."

InterludeYears passed. Caspar grew more focused on his work, only interrupting it for the bare necessities of eating, sleeping and natural secretory processes. And the dreaded fieldtrips to the merchants to get his equipment and raw materials. Days afore, Caspar would barely sleep, anxious as he was at confronting a crowd. But he had to do it or else his research would come to a grinding halt. Fortunately, his suppliers were used to stranger clients and put up with the ungodly early hours at which Caspar wanted to get his materials. After all, his money was as good as that of others, and since the Tian Library was funding there was plenty where that came from.

The only thing that really disturbed Caspar's routine was the passing of Father Gustav. His friend, his mentor, his...father. He wept bitter tears for days and stared blankely at the ceiling for nights. His walls were littered with small fiends battling knights in shining pink armor that were swept away by a torrent of tears until only a blank surface remained.

But - as with everything - time allowed that wound to scab over and Caspar was too busy to pulk at it. He had found a new interest. The fiends were back. Intrigued at their origin, Caspar momentarily put aside the gem he was working on and buried himself in the library between stacks of books and ancient scrolls about the atrocities and heroics of that era. Caspar had found his own version of 'Lord of the Rings'.

Mission ImpossibleWhispering dissonantly, yet completely in tune with his mental Soundtrack Orchestra, the old man sat bent over his work bench, softly scratching an intricate rune on one side of a small gem. He hoped it would work this time - the charred remnants of former failures lay scattered across his laboratory.

So engrossed was Caspar in his work, that he did not notice several people stepping into the room and studying him. When he finally finished, the priest exhaled a relieved "Aha!" before releasing the stone. On its own volition it rose and took his place between the others stones that orbited Caspar's wild grey locks. Some weaved intricate patterns around peaks of hair and the pair of horns protruding above his pointed ears.

"Ahum." Someone scratched his throat.

Caspar reached for another stone.

"Excuse me." A melodious voice rang out. It sounded like ambrosia yet it broked no disobedience. Absently, Caspar looked up and found his lab occupied by a pack of fierce-looking guardsmen, surrounding a lithe Elven-looking woman while a slim dark-haired man was browsing through Caspar's creations and notes. Mmm. Two shields, typical for a Bulwark. Veil across her eyes. "Huh. So now I'm imagining the Oracle is visiting me." Caspar said to Tulio, his lifelong friend and trustée. Nevermind that Tulio looked like an erect blue ostrich and never talked back. Nevermind that no one else had seen the damned bird. For Caspar he was real enough to act like a sounding board.

"It can't be her, you see." The priest stood up from his chair, accidentaly tipping over the cup of coffee, that had been slowly getting cold over the past hours. "She does not leave her Fortress. Her guards wouldn't like it one bit." Said guards glanced nervously at each other when the odd-looking hermit closed in on their ward and leaned forward. A subtle raised index finger made the Bulwarks stop in their tracks before they could charge in.. "Although I have to admit. She does look rather realistic." The lamplight reflected in a mismatched pair of eyes. One the red of an old Burgundy wine, the other green as the grass on the other side of the hill. "I wonder." Casper reached out and pinched the Oracle's left arm. "Now my hallucinations even illicit a tactile response. They.." His explanation was cut short as the new ioun stone flared up and the newest recruit to the guard - who tried to charge Caspar - was suddenly altered mid-charge in a white fluffy bunny.

"Oooh it worked." Caspar bent over to pick up the Leporidae and stroked his back. "Oh. Wait." Realisation hit like a sledgehammer. The priest looked at The Oracle, then at the bunny and back at the Oracle. "Bugger. I'm... I'm sorry, your Highness. I can turn him back... I think." He dropped the rabbit and walked to one of the precariously stacked clutter heaps that concealed one of the rooms' tables and started to rummage.

"Aha... No... This should... Eh no... Now.... Eureka." Delighted he held up a coin and picked it up. "Where's the Bunny?" What followed was a rather slapstickian chase that did little to improve the virtual order and cleanliness of Caspar's laboratory and caused the man in the back to roll his eyes exasparatedly at the Oracle. "Are you sure you want him?" Her answer was drowned out by an exulted "Gotcha!" followed by an angry "Get of my back!"

The wide-eyed guard who felt a sudden urge for carrots was helped to his feet by a fellow bodyguard, who had difficulty containing his snicker. The young soldiers' hope for a macho nickname like Scar or Croaker was smashed into smithereens as his company chose a more ... cute one.

The Oracle scraped her throat once again to get the priest's attention - a sly smile playing around her lips. "Focus, Caspar." Her companion told her what to expect, but still... "I have need of you." As an experienced speaker she paused for optimum effect. "You must travel to Pharé and"

"What? And leave? I can not abandon my... my..." Caspar was exasparated, not realizing he was interrupting someone who held the King's ear and if she wanted would be served the same King's testicles on a silver platter. Yet the veritable thought of leaving his lab, his home, the Library was beyond comprehension. It was difficult enough to wander around Calarin to get his laboratory supplies and brave the stares from - well everybody. So he kept those excursions limited to a bare minimum. But this was "Ridiculous." Even Tulio nodded his assent vigourously, ruffling his feathers in the proces. "I can't leave. My experiments..."

"Will have to wait, Caspar." Though soft-spoken the words resonated in the priests' soul with an intensity that left him trembling on his feet. He stared dumbfoundedly at the young man that had remained aloof until now. "Who are you? And how do you know my name?"

The young one stepped out of the shadow and regarded Caspar with surprising warmth in his voice. "I know all the names of my priests, not that I have many. I remember the day when Old Gustav found a horned baby on the doorstep of my Library." Sinking to his knees Caspar looked up at his god. "Tiaan?" He whispered. A nod was the only answer he got.

The Oracle studied the exchange between the god and his priest before continuing her explanation. "seek out Morgan Wainraith. His King needs your help. They're deeply involved in battling Zera and the Fiends. It is crucial you get there as soon as possible."


"No buts, you will have to do this." Tiaan nipped Caspar's protests in the butt. "You leave tomorrow. So start packing." And because orders work better combined with a carrot on a stick. "I have a few Tomes dating back to the Demongate Wars. They sport a few runes I need your help deciphering when you get back."

"Ooh. What do they look like? What paper has been used? What ink?"

"Go pack, Caspar." Tiaan sounded like a father urging his favorite son on.
I have taken the Oath of Sangus.
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Old Jun 1st, 2017, 07:18 PM
DeSpainJE's Avatar
DeSpainJE DeSpainJE is offline
Young Adult Dragon
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Last Visit: Jul 21st, 2018
RPXP: 250
DeSpainJE DeSpainJE DeSpainJE
Posts: 90
"Simply stated, it is sagacious to eschew obfuscation."


Watcher "Ashen Black" Irali Serokai AkA Badger Black
Race: Serokai(Nameless)
Sex: Female
Age: 45
Classes: Cleric(Cloistered)/Watcher of Fisali/Contemplative
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Deity: The Eighth
Specialties: Divine Casting | Domains: Betrayal, Fate, Time(WoF)
Campaign Feat : Improved Unarmed Strike
Bonus Skills: Craft(Origami); Knowledge(Fasali)

Appearance: Ashen is a tall woman with ravened black hair, bright green eyes, and dusky skin that was kissed by the desert sun. Though few have ever seen that in the last twenty some odd years. Ashen prefers wearing a robe or a cloak, that gives her a shifting appearance of size. It is dark red, almost as if crafted from dried blood, in some lights it appears dark enough to be considered black. Often the hood is raised hiding Ashen's face, through a clever trick of sheer fabric placed in the recess of the hood, the face is obscured from those attempting to look with in the hood. The veil is rigged to slide over the face if griped when the hood is tossed back to reveal the face. Often appearing to be unarmed save for a simple knife at her belt. At times when fully at rest, the cloak falls still enough that Ashen's build is revealed to be slender, almost feminine, leading to questions of whom actually lives under that hood. At all times Ashen is found with a long slender quarter staff made of resin impregnated bamboo that she uses as a guide stick. For all appearances whom ever is under the hood is blind, yet seems aware of what ever is going on around them.

Personality: Aloof but not unapproachable, willing to give advice, but never in absolutes always in options. Not exactly quiet, but generally only speaks when she feels there something that needs to be said, extra words might be undue influence, till there needs to be a little undue influence. Efficient, and typically on the lookout for ways to remove inefficiency may not always do so due to her mandate. Confident bordering on arrogance, trusting her own thoughts and abilities. Strong Willed, Charismatic, and inspiring when she choose to let people in on the secret. Ashen can seem stubborn, domineering, and intolerant once she has set her path. Often her neutral stance makes her appear emotionally vacant, cold, and ruthless, like the hand of fate she sometimes has to be. Her friends know her to be one to share deep passionate and meaningful conversations, friendships not built upon routines, but upon shared experiences.







Last edited by DeSpainJE; Jun 8th, 2017 at 09:40 PM.
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