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This looks very interesting! I don't recognize the map if it's from anything, though I'm assuming it is; the notation looks quite crisp.
Considering a Monk of the Sacred Mountain. Any particulars about non-human races in your world we should know about, GM?
Welcome Stratos!
The map was pirated. The world is entirely mine. I thought it was pretty.
All core races are fairly common so knock yourself out!
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While breaking fast at The Royal, Pollex's priemere tavern, an elf glides into the room followed closely by a hafling holding a shining silver trumpet. Two shrill blasts silence any chatter left in the bar. The elf wears velvet breeches over long red stockings. His snowy shirt is clean and pressed under his black tabard. From the middle of his chest, a vicious looking rampant dragon glares at The Royal's patrons. The elf smiles. His long-dark hair frames his bony face as he speaks.
"Those present to participate on the Trial of Crowns are hereby summoned to Gorum's Green for the sorting."
Two more sharp notes sound from the trumpet and the messengers are gone. The old timers and a few grizzled adventurers immediately rise and begin filing out of the hall. It seems the trial will begin soon.
When you arrive at what you think must be Gorum's Green, your senses peak. First, you are acosted by the smell of sweat and ale. The source is easily discovered upon surveying the gathered crowd: hundreds of women and men of every size and acountrement are queueing to enter a mighty pavillion set in front of a pair of massive iron gates. Beyond the gates can only be the trail arena. Secondly, what appears to be a boisterous crowd of mercenaries and warriors merely murmers quietly to itself. There are no roaring boasts or customary cat calling. There is only a respectful calm.
One by one the line files into the pavillion. The disconcerting thing is, no one is filing out.
When your turn comes, a dour dwarf in scale armor parts the flap of the tent and indicates that you should enter.
This room is ripe with incense. When your eyes finally adjust to the haze, you see two hooded figures. Both wear midnight blue cloaks over shining plate armor. One rests a 5 foot sword across his knees while the other leans on an ebony staff a small distance away.
For a long time neither speak. Finally the one with sword asks in a gruff voice:
"What seek you here?"
"What seek you here?"
A thin man dressed in a Nobel's outfit steps forward when approached. Laying on the ground at his feet, but perking his head up when Cecil moves is what appears to be a strange cross between a Rotweiler and a dragon, but with a very expressive face. The creature cocks his head slightly and sniffs the air as the man approaches. The creature begins to growl very low, but when Cecil holds an empty palm toward the creature it stops growling. The creature lays it's head back on it's forepaw(foreclaw?)'s but keeps a wary eye on the newcomer.
I am Cecil Von Spirito. He says's with the air of a man who is accustomed to being surrounded by servants.I seek to restore my personal Honor and return to my rightful place within the nobility of this great nation.
"What Seek you here?"
A tall, broad-shouldered Half-Elven male with strong, aquiline features steps forward. With a flourish, he bows, causing his bright green cloak to swirl magnificently, and revealing the well-crafted breastplate beneath, and the silvery sword at his hip.
"I am Harold Wainright, a loyal servant of the Crown. I seek that which I have always sought - to serve and protect the Crown, and the people of this great nation, until there is no breath left in this body."
"What Seek you here?"A tall, broad-shouldered Half-Elven male with strong, aquiline features steps forward. With a flourish, he bows, causing his bright green cloak to swirl magnificently, and revealing the well-crafted breastplate beneath, and the silvery sword at his hip.
"I am Harold Wainright, a loyal servant of the Crown. I seek that which I have always sought - to serve and protect the Crown, and the people of this great nation, until there is no breath left in this body."
Saying very quietly talking to the raven on his shoulder,
"I suppose I should have said something more selfless like that. Good of the crown, and what not. Though I said 'great nation' so I suppose that was in the right area of thought. hum."He pulls out a small 'treat' of some sort and gives it to the bird while he quietly talks. The bird grabs it and eats is voraciously.
Kayla waits patiently is line as the day goes by, glad for the occasional breeze that stirs her long copper colored hair. There is certainly a large turnout today, I don't think that I've ever seen such a large assortment of disparate people before. Though I wonder where everyone is going after the sorting, I have yet to see anyone leave though the lines are getting shorter?
When it is her turn in the tent, Kayla stand up straight and proud, her freshly polished breastplate gleaming with the symbol of her goddess upon it showing her allegiance to Sarenrae. "What do I seek?" What an odd question. "I seek to do more. When I came of age I devoted my life to Sarenrae and vowed to help and protect the people of my land in her name. I can not do that sequestered in her temples, thus I present myself here in the hopes that I may be chosen.
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"What seek you here?"
A thin man dressed in a Nobel's outfit steps forward when approached. Laying on the ground at his feet, but perking his head up when Cecil moves is what appears to be a strange cross between a Rotweiler and a dragon, but with a very expressive face. The creature cocks his head slightly and sniffs the air as the man approaches. The creature begins to growl very low, but when Cecil holds an empty palm toward the creature it stops growling. The creature lays it's head back on it's forepaw(foreclaw?)'s but keeps a wary eye on the newcomer.I am Cecil Von Spirito. He says's with the air of a man who is accustomed to being surrounded by servants.I seek to restore my personal Honor and return to my rightful place within the nobility of this great nation.
The hooded duo regard you carefully for a while. Finally the figure leaning on the staff addresses you.
"A nobleman may possess anything, but blessed is the man who robes himself in humility. We wish you luck Cecil Von Spirito."
The speaker raises his hand, indicating that you are to pass through a curtain to his right.
When you do, a mild blue light like the first clear spring day overtakes you and you find yourself in a small drawing room containing an armoire, a basin filled with rose water, and a fainting couch. A voice whispers in your head.
Relax, do not be anxious.
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"What Seek you here?"A tall, broad-shouldered Half-Elven male with strong, aquiline features steps forward. With a flourish, he bows, causing his bright green cloak to swirl magnificently, and revealing the well-crafted breastplate beneath, and the silvery sword at his hip.
"I am Harold Wainright, a loyal servant of the Crown. I seek that which I have always sought - to serve and protect the Crown, and the people of this great nation, until there is no breath left in this body."
Immediately the man holding the sword speaks.
"Death is a most skilled hunter and will likely find you sooner than you hope if you are chosen master Wainright. Do not be too keen to seek it out. Still, you are known to us and perhaps you do have the skills needed for such an undertaking."
He nods to a curtain hanging on the left hand side of the tent. when you open it, you are seized in a violent flash of emerald green. When you come to, a circular room lined floor to ceiling with books greets you. The titles include, but are not limited to: Primal Politica-A soldier's guide to politics, Deadly Denizens-What's eating you?, and In a Pile of Heather-finding comfort in the wilds.
In the center of the room is a small square table with a single three-legged stool and a candle.
It is permissable to lose oneself in books.
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Kayla waits patiently is line as the day goes by, glad for the occasional breeze that stirs her long copper colored hair. There is certainly a large turnout today, I don't think that I've ever seen such a large assortment of disparate people before. Though I wonder where everyone is going after the sorting, I have yet to see anyone leave though the lines are getting shorter?
When it is her turn in the tent, Kayla stand up straight and proud, her freshly polished breastplate gleaming with the symbol of her goddess upon it showing her allegiance to Sarenrae. "What do I seek?" What an odd question. "I seek to do more. When I came of age I devoted my life to Sarenrae and vowed to help and protect the people of my land in her name. I can not do that sequestered in her temples, thus I present myself here in the hopes that I may be chosen.
The swrod bearer barks out a throaty laugh and then the figure with the staff speaks.
"More than nothing is an easily attainable goal lady Adrianas. Perhaps you should seek to do enough? Remember ignorance cannot be healed by Sarenrae's light. Steel your mind and sharpen your sword. You will need both."
He gestures to the curtain on his left. Upon passing through the curtain, a warming white glow lifts you up and gently bears you away. Next moment, you are kneeling at Sarenrae's altar. Your scimtar rests across your lap and in hands are a strand of prayer beads and a whetstone.
Preparedness and faith in equal measure. This is the way wars are won.
The speaker raises his hand, indicating that you are to pass through a curtain to his right.
When you do, a mild blue light like the first clear spring day overtakes you and you find yourself in a small drawing room containing an armoire, a basin filled with rose water, and a fainting couch. A voice whispers in your head.
Relax, do not be anxious.
Cecil strides proudly toward the curtain and after a few steps he turns towards the creature and pats his leg to make a slight slapping sound. "Here boy"
With that the creature Perks its head up and ears that had been laying to it's side perk up toward the sky. (the ears look like doberman ears, but a little longer and with some visible scales around the edges and probably under the fur.)The creature jumps up and runs toward it's master Tongue wagging and whole body shaking with exuberance. It runs around him as he walks. The raven on Cecil's shoulder watches the creature. The raven's head spins 180' before reversing quickly to continue to watch the creature. (it's that real life weird bird neck thing. Nothing fantastical.)
On entering the room Cecil refreshes himself with the rose water and casts a few cantrips to make sure his appearance is clean and pressed before laying on the fainting couch. His arm drapes stretches off the side to absently scratch the ears of his pet, which has taken up residence by its master.
Kayla remains kneeling in front of the altar and begins to pray as she methodically sharpens her scimitar with the whetstone she has found in her hand. May the Goddess grant me the wisdom to know what to do and the strength to do it with.
Maedoc leans on his staff as he waits in the slowly moving line, scratching his hawk on the head occasionally. When his arm tires of carrying the hawk, he stretches it out for a moment. "Fly free for a bit, Garrick--I'm sure that you won't have another chance to do so shortly," he says in an odd language that sounds like a mixture of bird noises and elven. The hawk responds in kind ("You're the boss.") before stretching his wings and taking flight. As he leaves, Maedoc rubs his arm and looks forward, muttering at the time it's taking to enter the tent. "You'd think they could do this a bit more efficiently.
As his time draws near, Maedoc lets out a sharp whistle, calling Garrick back to him. With the bird perched securely on his leather-gloved left hand, he enters the pavilion, coughing slightly at the unexpected incense.
[b]What seek you here?
Maedoc frowns slightly as he considers this question, ignoring the sarcastic comments muttered to him by Garrick. He tugs on his beard and nervously look at the sword before answering, "I seek three things here, or at least three primary things. First, I want to receive the Crown's sanction to pursue my studies of the magical. I have been trained by a former agent of the crown (let me see... I have a letter to that effect somewhere), and have been careful not to violate standing policy in my studies. Second, I wish to have access to such magical archives as are available; it's rather difficult to learn such things on one's own, as I'm sure you know. Finally, and perhaps most importantly (at least to me), I need to show my old mentor what I have become."
With that, Maedoc shrugs and scratches Garrick on the head once more. "There may be secondary and tertiary reasons, but I doubt you want a complete accounting of such."
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The man with the sword leaps to his feet in a blink, sword at the ready.
"You dare presume our desires mage!?"
He takes a threatening step forward before the other figure stops him.
"Peace Phineas. Here is an intelligent and reserved wizard. He studies his magic within the confines of the law. As such, it falls to me to judge him."
The man draws up to his full height and moves across the room toward you. The staff he was leaning on still stands unmoving where he left it: suspended somehow.
"Hmm. We will see." He wears an expression that is at once a kind smile and a detestable sneer. He moves back to his staff and motions for you to pass through the curtain on his right.
Once through, A flame red light streaks out at you and you soon find yourself in a barren room: stark white excepting three objects resting on a table beside a white armchair.
These objects are: a puzzle box where the objective is to make all sides the same color, a book of riddles, and a pad of chart paper where only a few numbers have been filled in; the object seems to be to make each line equal the same sum.
Maedoc jerks back as the man with the sword moves toward him, and blinks nervously as the man with the staff intercedes on his behalf.
Once he is in the testing room (as he thinks of it), Maedoc looks around nervously, slowing his breathing to calm himself down. Frowning at the accoutrements, he takes a thick blanket from his pack and lays it over the top of the chair. "Easy there, Garrick, perch here--and try not to make a mess--best if we don't anger the testers." After ensuring that Garrick is comfortably perched there, he puts his equipment to the side and sits down, considering the puzzles before him. Frowning slightly, he takes the chart with numbers, takes his quill and ink from his pouch, and sets himself to solving it.
At the sound of the trumpet, Stonehart finished his tankard of ale quickly and started to move with the rest of the crowd. He couldn't see over the taller men, but he knew the way to Gorum's Green well.
It's been almost 30 years since I came here last time, Stonehart thought. They still need to add some decent statues.
Stonehart waited patiently in line, talking with some of the others. A few he recognized as customers of the dwarven smiths he works with. Their arms and armor were good - strong and sturdy and ready to be used. But they are nothing compared to Stonehart's traditional dwarven plate and ax, shined and polished to gleam in the sunlight.
Finally, it's the dwarf's turn to enter the tent and still no one has come out again. He looks around at the others around him and then turns to the dour dwarf.
"I hope it's bigger on the inside. I don't fancy being crowded."
Inside, the haze of incense is enough to make Stonehart's eye water as he looks around the spacious tent. He walks up to the two hooded men and speaks.
"Huh, it is bigger on the inside.
Finally the hooded one with a sword asks in a gruff voice:
"What seek you here?"
"More than 30 years ago, I joined a band of adventurers near Faellstaf. We fought off beasts from the woods and orcs and goblins from the hills. Over time, we helped a good many people, enough to be called here to this very square. They offered us rewards - we only had to name them. Some wanted lands, others treasure, status, power. I asked for one thing - magics to preserve the best of my craft. They kept their word. These were the finest things I could make and the agents of the Crown worked their magic well."
The dwarf gestures at his full-plate, shield and waraxe. All of them have ornate etchings of runes and sigils in a very traditional dwarven style. There are no scratches, no stains, no dents. The armor looks like it could have been finished yesterday.
Stonehart waits for the two men to say something, even though he doesn't expect them too. After a while, he speaks again.
"Can you see what's wrong with them? It's obvious. They've never been used!"
The last bit is almost shouted.
"We fought for years and then settled down, starting lives at home. I expected to have a wife and children now, someone to teach and pass this on to. But that didn't happen. Instead, I've worked for years in the safety of town walls while these instruments of war gather dust."
"You ask what I seek? A new life - one worth living. My stories are old and worn from being told on many long nights in the pub. I have no desire to spend decades more repeating the same stories of glory to ever younger generations. At least give me a new tale or two to pass the long winter nights."
Stratos here. Mechanics are completed for your review (in profile) with 2 exceptions... once I roll for hitpoints:
1. Is Monk's Robe a wondrous item I could have?
2. What sorts of traits would you like us to use, if any?
Will flesh-out the story and answer to the RP post above tonight.
As much as I would relish the chance to finally play a Master Summoner, I don't think I will have enough time in the next while to give this campaign the attention it deserves...
I wish you all a successful game!
It is permissable to lose oneself in books.
Is this the first test, or simply a waiting area?, Harold muses to himself.
Unsure of how to proceed, but perfectly willing to make the most of his situation, Harold spends some time gazing longingly at the many books adorning the shelves. Finally, he selects Primal Politica, carefully teases it from the confines of the bookshelf, and seats himself comfortably on the stool, where he begins to read...
DM, when you get a chance could you look over my gear and let me know if it's all kosher? I've got some wondrous items and what not that I'd like an official ok on. Basically Cecil is a high charisma arcane user who spends his "off camera" time smoozing with nobility and perfecting his art. Even without a magic mart he would have some knowledge about where to procure esoteric itmes, like magic.
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Stratos here. Mechanics are completed for your review (in profile) with 2 exceptions... once I roll for hitpoints:
5d8
1. Is Monk's Robe a wondrous item I could have?
2. What sorts of traits would you like us to use, if any?
Will flesh-out the story and answer to the RP post above tonight.
The monk's robe should be fine. And sorry to everyone. All characters are entitled to two traits.
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DM, when you get a chance could you look over my gear and let me know if it's all kosher? I've got some wondrous items and what not that I'd like an official ok on. Basically Cecil is a high charisma arcane user who spends his "off camera" time smoozing with nobility and perfecting his art. Even without a magic mart he would have some knowledge about where to procure esoteric itmes, like magic.
Gear looks good Cecil.
DM, when you get a chance could you look over my gear and let me know if it's all kosher? I've got some wondrous items and what not that I'd like an official ok on. Basically Cecil is a high charisma arcane user who spends his "off camera" time smoozing with nobility and perfecting his art. Even without a magic mart he would have some knowledge about where to procure esoteric itmes, like magic.Gear looks good Cecil.
Groovy
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At the sound of the trumpet, Stonehart finished his tankard of ale quickly and started to move with the rest of the crowd. He couldn't see over the taller men, but he knew the way to Gorum's Green well.
It's been almost 30 years since I came here last time, Stonehart thought. They still need to add some decent statues.
Stonehart waited patiently in line, talking with some of the others. A few he recognized as customers of the dwarven smiths he works with. Their arms and armor were good - strong and sturdy and ready to be used. But they are nothing compared to Stonehart's traditional dwarven plate and ax, shined and polished to gleam in the sunlight.
Finally, it's the dwarf's turn to enter the tent and still no one has come out again. He looks around at the others around him and then turns to the dour dwarf.
"I hope it's bigger on the inside. I don't fancy being crowded."
Inside, the haze of incense is enough to make Stonehart's eye water as he looks around the spacious tent. He walks up to the two hooded men and speaks.
"Huh, it is bigger on the inside.
Finally the hooded one with a sword asks in a gruff voice:
"What seek you here?"
"More than 30 years ago, I joined a band of adventurers near Faellstaf. We fought off beasts from the woods and orcs and goblins from the hills. Over time, we helped a good many people, enough to be called here to this very square. They offered us rewards - we only had to name them. Some wanted lands, others treasure, status, power. I asked for one thing - magics to preserve the best of my craft. They kept their word. These were the finest things I could...
The gruff voice chuckles and gestures to the left hand curtain.
A river of blue light carries you off to stand before a magnificent forge. At hand are an ample supply of mithril and adamantine along with every desirable tool for forge craft. Unfortunately, there is neither fire nor fuel for one. Indeed, the only operable thing present is perhaps a disheveled, wooden target dummy sitting forlorn in a far corner.
"What seek you here?"
A fairly short, broad man with a flat nose and short, dark hair cocks his head slightly at the question and pauses a few moments in thought before saying, "If I'm being honest, and I believe I should be, my answer is three-fold: One - to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Two - So that she might be proud of me. Three - Adventure...something I've long denied myself."
Upon the proclamation, he looks down and winks at the two war hounds at his feet, one large and brown with black patches and an very expressive face, the other smaller, black with brown patches and ears that stand up straight and curious.
A river of blue light carries you off to stand before a magnificent forge. At hand are an ample supply of mithril and adamantine along with every desirable tool for forge craft. Unfortunately, there is neither fire nor fuel for one. Indeed, the only operable thing present is perhaps a disheveled, wooden target dummy sitting forlorn in a far corner.
Stonehart methodically examines the room, making sure there's no hidden exit or other items he missed on his first glance. He lovingly studies the mithril and adamantine, both in quantities larger than he's every seen in his entire life. He also gives the old dummy a push to see if it still can turn.
Then the older dwarf just stares the empty forge. It seems lifeless there, without use or purpose.
"A lot like me now. Something to look at, but not something used to its full potential.
Stonehart strokes his long braided beard, fingers running over the little streaks of white and gold that are turning the once-bright red hair to a coppery brown.
"It can't be that simple, can it?" he says softly to himself.
The warrior draws his axe and strides over to the forge, turning up his head so whoever is watching can hear him clearly.
"Do you think I have no fire in me anymore? If I'm supposed to prove the old days still burn within me by beating up some training dummy, you can take me out of here right now. If you want to know how I swing an axe, ask your fathers. They'd know."
The dwarf stomps back to the wooden dummy and swings hard, chopping off part of the wood for kindling. He scoops it under his arm and turns back to throw it into the hearth of the forge. He stands beside it, looking ahead at the wood and not at the metal or the dummy.
"These things behind me are not what I want to leave behind. Working metal and fighting are a part of me - always have been, always will be. But I want to add something new. You can't make steel without adding something to it."
With that said, the dwarf brings his axe down hard on the hearth, causing sparks to fly over the kindling.
I would love to throw out a concept of a Barbarian...think Ghengis Khan.
I will roll for his stats here for you to review then I will flesh him out for you to review his gear before posting to your query.
After reading the other submissions there are already a few barbarian types. So I guess let me make my rolls then I will come up with a character concept.
Dice roll 1:
Dice roll 2:
I really like roll 2. Now for a concept. Think, think, think....
I am going to go with a gnome sorcerer draconic bloodline who worships Apsu. Quick question about the stats is that before our racial adjustments or after? Thanks!
This does sound like an interesting game and I always loved the mid level games, so here's my stats. :)
Edit: I think I'll be going with set 1. I've always wanted to try the Magus class, so I think this will be a good opportunity.
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Welcome GargoyleHero2 and Arknight! I'll keep an eye on your applications. Remember everyone, the recruitment closes in 35 hours. At that time I will only consider complete applications.
Those who are all set to be considered are:
Kayla Adrianas
Harold Wainright
Stonehart the Dwarf
Cecil Von Spirito
Restrop Stoneheart
Maedoc Celibrus
Seamus Fleetfoot
Osslend Abenier (Almost. Osslend, look at the other profiles listed here for additional info for yours.)
Anyone still interested in joining has 35 hours to put together a polished application.
Thank you to all of you who have applied. I actually like all these concepts for one reason or another. This will be a tough choice.
Stay tuned!
Having read the notices of The Trial, Restrop had been considering submitting himself for it. He stopped in to grab some sustainence at The Royal when the two very different-looking figures walked-in, announcing the location. Though not a fan of pomp and circumstance, the trumpet and tabard told the Dwarf this event could indeed be the trail he'd been looking for. After some meat, bread, and drink, he left for the green.
While no stranger to the smell of sweat or ale - his training and heritage made sure of that! - the red-bearded monk was surprised with the massive turnout. Was there some aspect of The Trial he didn't know about? Perhaps most people were just driven by opportunities like this ... as he didn't socialize much, Restrop was unsure. One thing was certain though: Getting a good look around at his height was not going to happen with the droves of people as thick as they were. Only when he approached the iron gates was he aware he was nearly at the "beginning" of The Trial ... whatever it might entail. Slightly comforted at seeing one of his own kind usher him in, the Dwarf entered the pavilion.
The incense immediately hit Restrop's nose, and he didn't much care for it. In contrast, the cloaks' soft color pulled his attention away from the haze and more to their owners' dress: well-crafted armor, complemented by both a sword and staff. What walks of life did these sentries possess, he wondered. Restrop bows curtly and waits to be addressed.
"What seek you here?"
A bit amiss as to the aim of the question, Restrop takes some time to respond. He glances at the figures while putting together his reply in Common, unsure of their desire in the question but certain of his purpose.
I, Restrop Stoneheart, seek to better my body and soul. To do this, I must seek greater challenges than I can give myself. In the service of the crown, my hope is I could perfect myself while aiding others in the land. He pauses before a moment before nodding, his mouth and head the only parts of his body to have moved since he entered, the rest of it perfectly still. For in pursuit of improving myself, I search for the boundaries of my diligence and valor. I believe this duty to the crown should test my limits of both. The room is silent for a moment. If not, this path of service does not fit me.
More or less squared away for Maedoc, just need to finish purchasing items and write up a Personality section (which I might just leave blank and RP out), and I should be set.
How would you feel about me purchasing a Ring of Feather Falling and a Lesser Metamagic Rod of some sort? It would be one of the 3000 GP rods, if any. Other than that, most of my gold will be going toward lots of fun Wands, scrolls, etc. Just let me know if there's a limit on what/how much I can pick up.
Also, thanks Kayla. Conan references are always entertaining. :)
Cheers!
Edit: Also, I have a list of spells purchased via scroll on the profile under "Equipment & Monies." Let me know if I should shrink this list any (especially as I might pick up some more low level spells for kicks.
Addendum: The OOC command is more limited than I first thought. Ah well.
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The two men speak in unison.
"Welcome Restop. You will be tested in due time."
Both indicate that you are to take the curtain to the left where a yellow light wraps you up.
As the world comes back into focus. You see a huge wall encloses you completely. On this wall are thousands of pictographs depicting the history of the dwarves.
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More or less squared away for Maedoc, just need to finish purchasing items and write up a Personality section (which I might just leave blank and RP out), and I should be set.
How would you feel about me purchasing a Ring of Feather Falling and a Lesser Metamagic Rod of some sort? It would be one of the 3000 GP rods, if any. Other than that, most of my gold will be going toward lots of fun Wands, scrolls, etc. Just let me know if there's a limit on what/how much I can pick up.
Also, thanks Kayla. Conan references are always entertaining. :)
Cheers!
Edit: Also, I have a list of spells purchased via scroll on the profile under "Equipment & Monies." Let me know if I should shrink this list any (especially as I might pick up some more low level spells for kicks.
Addendum: The OOC command is more limited than I first thought. Ah well.
The ring of feather falling is OK. Wands and scrolls are fine too. Remember that wands have 10 charges and are rechargeable as described above.
I'm OK with most rods, just let me know which ones in specific you're looking for.
Hi DSP. My ranger is nearly ready, just rolling HP here and will post from the character soon.