Vaylen - The Precipice of War

Game Master Kibeth

• We will also be using the Elements of Magic magic system; you may still use traditional if you prefer or do not have access to EoM. If you want to play a warlock, let me know. As a point of information, I have a homebrew spellthief magus archetype that I will allow as well. If you want to use EoM, let me know; there are a few changes I am making to that ruleset simply to have it be coherent with pathfinder. EoM versions of certain classes will still retain their pathfinder class features. If you haven't heard of EoM, check it out when you can. - Elements of Magic
  
• Bonus RP Feat (you must present a good reason for this feat within your background)
  
• I do not believe in feat taxes. To that end, if you have a dex of at least 16 and it is 4 greater than your strength, you gain Agile Maneuvers and Weapon Finesse for free. If you have a strength of at least 16 and it is 4 greater than your dexterity, you gain Power Attack for free. All classes with greater than half base attack bonus gain combat reflexes for free as well. If you have greater than half bab and you cast spells as part of your class, you may gain a feat called Spell Combat Training which grants +2 to concentration checks made when casting spells. Dervish Dance applies to all one handed weapons, not just the scimitar. Extra traits and the leadership feats are banned, but you may take the same trait twice, if you so desire.
  
• Item creation feats are banned; let the NPCs handle the crafting. Based on the quality and content of your background, I will grant 1 related item bonus item related to your backstory that does not exceed 10,000 gold or a second RP feat.
  
• For any of you brave souls who want to sword and board specialize, the Madu and Buckler are the same item in this world.
  
• Those with ranks in knowledge skills will be receiving additional information from be based on those ranks.
  
• (HP is max at every Level) * 1.5
  
• Armor as DR and Called Shots variants, The CD DC is the threatening attack roll + (total attack bonus + Attack bonuses to confirm)/2 + 1 for each critical feat + 1 for each size category larger. CD bonus is unchanged. You gain a bonus to saves against called shots equal to 1/2 DR.
  
• Slashing weapons of equivalent hardness to the armor they are striking bypass 10% of DR. Piercing weapons that meet the same requirement bypass 20% of DR. Keen weapons add 5% to this. All weapons bypass an amount of DR equivalent to the amount by which they exceed an objects hardness. For example, my +1 Adamantine mace has a hardness of 22. When I hit the mundane Adamantine Full plate with a base DR 9 and hardness of 20, and deal 12 damage, 5 of it will get through.
  
• Firearms are early in most of Aeonar, in some places they are advanced. Everywhere else, you'd be hard pressed to find any; they're pretty rare. I only mention this for anyone wanting to be a gunslinger. I don't care where you are, but your backstory should include something involving Aeonar or a gift from a friend/family/bandit from Aeonar. Firearms bypass 25% of DR.
  
• - Every character with greater than 1/2 bab can parry. To do so, a character may hold any number of available attacks when taking a standard action or full round action involving attacks. At some point prior to the character's next turn, he may deflect a number of melee attacks directed at him equal to the number of attacks held by making an attack roll opposing that of the attacker. This attack roll is made with full bab at a -4 penalty when using a light weapon, finesse weapon, or one handed weapon with the dervish dance feat, a -6 with a one handed weapon, and a -8 for two handed weapons. If the attack roll equals or exceeds that of the attacker, the attack is deflected. These penalties are reduced to 0, -2 and -4, respectively, for a character fighting defensively. A mithril weapon lessens the penalty to parry by 2 as well, but does not confer any bonuses to parry. Thus, a character fighting defensively with a light weapon still takes 0 penalty to parry attacks. Each successive parry attempt made prior to the defender's next turn incurs a cumulative -5 penalty (like iteratives.)
  
• Homebrew Feat: Improved Parry (Prereq: Int 13, Combat Expertise) --> +2 bonus to attack rolls made when parrying. You may now parry melee attacks directed at other targets within your reach at an additional -4 penalty.
  
• Homebrew Feat: Greater Parry (Prereq: Improved Parry, BAB +6) --> +2 bonus to attack rolls made when parrying. This stacks with Improved Parry. You may now attempt to parry ranged attacks directed at you at an additional -4 penalty.
  
• Homebrew Feat: Riposte (Prereq: Improved Parry, BAB +6) --> Whenever you successfully parry an attack, the you may take an attack of opportunity against the attacker.
  
• Homebrew Feat: Ricochet Riposte (Prereq: Greater Parry) --> Whenever you successfully parry a ranged attack, you may choose a new target, including the attacker, for the attack using your attack roll.
  
• Those playing the magus class may take a bonus feat with their magus arcana if they desire. Barbarians may take a bonus feat with their rage power. You still have to meet the prereqs.
  
• Passive checks: "For Sense Motive and Perception checks, unless you state you wish to make such a check, I will take a 10 and add your check to it. That means that any time you walk into a room, your Passive Perception check will be made. Now, if you want to roll a check to see what remains unseen, you can make it yourself. I also do Passive checks for Knowledge as well. As long as you have the Knowledge check appropriate for a situation, I'll give you the nitty-gritty. If you want to make the check yourself, the same applies as above."
  
• "The following Knowledge checks can be used Untrained: Geography, History, Local, Noble, Nature, and Religion. These can be justified in that everyone knows a little about each topic, but that doesn't mean they're particularly proficient at it. Other Knowledge checks may not be made Untrained."
  

Step 1: Write 5 background and concept elements that you feel are important to your image of the character. These can be a concept overview, a list of important life events, a physical description, a personality profile...whatever you need to get an image in your mind. 5 is just a minimum...more elements are encouraged!

Designed as a construct, the mad wizard Maerdith was researching an “ultimate” weapon for the Whispering Queen.

Constructs were the first thing Maerdith turned to, they were easy to control and easy to enchant, the power though was an issue. How to get something controllable and that could use magic, undead was of course the next option, and that failed things were too easily manipulated and wrecked by others magic. Also their desires and drives were just lacking. Having in the process learned of liches, their immortality seemed key to their progress and seeking of power. An idea was struck.

Perhaps some mad forcing of souls to bind in a Golemn as a phylactery would work, or something of that sort. No one was sure beyond these scribblings, because all that was left of Maerdith after his experiments was a part mithral part wyrwood golemn. It spoke in the same irritable voice of Maerdith the mad. It knew all he did, but as the weeks wore on, whatever of Maerdith that had been there, was gone. The magical Imprint that was a bright glow upon the creatures skin was faint now.

Regardless of how it happened, Maerdith was gone and a new entity was behind those glowing eyes. A creature with a hunger for power, a will to live, and no clear direction. It had no sense of right or wrong, only of what was needed to achieve it’s goals. It fed on the wizards notes, both figuratively and literally. It soon mastered magic, and literally ate the magic in the room, some adapted process of dispelling that fed and strengthened it’s fading imprints, it’s spark of life...

Step 2: List at least two goals for the character. At least one of these goals should be one that the character has, while another should be one that you, as a player, want to see developed over the course of the game.

Obtain Penultimate power. Become the weapon it was designed to be.

Serve the Whispering Queen

Garner respect or fear for the power obtained, Maerdith was a wonderfully smart wizard who was underappreciated and writhed internally about this, the golemn will not make the same mistake.

Step 3: List at least two secrets about your character. One is a secret the character knows, one is a secret that involves him but that he is not actually aware of yet. This will help me in creating plots that center around your character. I will also be creating a third secret which you as a player will not be aware of, so expect some surprises!

-Maerdith is partially alive and regenerating, unfortunately the memories that let him cast magic are fragmented and trapped within the golem. He desperately wants these fragments back, his magic manifests in unpredictable bursts, the power of his magic seems to have diminished, but it seems to grow as the golem does.

-The Whispering Queen personally approved and funded this project and to this day keeps tabs on him, and gives him orders. As of yet though she has let the golem run free while only giving “whispering words” of encouragement and hints.

Step 4: Describe at least three people that are tied to the character. Two of them are friendly to the character, one is hostile. If you like, you can include an enemy of yours here as well, so I have an instant NPC nemesis to throw at you.

-Maerdith is obviously hostile and an enemy as he regenerates/grows/etc (flexible concept)
-Thieves guild makes frequent use of him, and the golem makes frequent use of their information. The cut throat operative, Talon, was one of the first people the golem met. After Maerdith stopped making appearances he came to spy and collect rumors for pay from the Queen and perhaps make off with some wealth. He came while Maerdith was still “attached” to the golem and left satisfied in how things were, but as he would check in he was the first to notice Maerdith was increasingly discordant and not there. Eventually he became friends and taught the golem how ruthless efficiency was the real power and ability to get things done. He was formative, and they formed a bond (as much of a bond two psychopaths ever have!) of mutual belief in each others ultimate usefulness.

-He is very attached to the idea of Maerdiths brilliance and is the closest to anyone that he cares and adores beyond the thieves guild operative, Talon.

Step 5: Describe three memories, mannerisms, or quirks that your character has. They don't have to be elaborate, but they should provide some context and flavor.

-Personality Manifests as classic Psychopathic behavior. Cunning and self serving towards his goals. Others simply do not matter beyond the ability to achieve the goal it has in mind. This doesn’t manifest as unnecessary cruelty or an avoidance of kindness, but as a deliberate method of doing exactly what’s best regardless of what it is.

-Sometimes is haunted by fragments of Maerdiths personality, a clever and impotent wizard. loved by women and distracted by women constantly, the only thing that would and did override his lust was his lust of power and respect. His projects were the means to it, and this creation was his ultimate pride, sure to garner him respect and prestige... if only he had lived and not been partially tied into the golem himself!

-He carries standard construct traits, while detached from emotions, the lustful desires have stayed, an imprinted motivator left by Maerdith that is the only thing he hates about his maker, specially since he made no ability act on those desires!

NOTE: Locations, organizations, and events specific to this world are left undefined so that they can be implanted later, and because this character is also part of my own homebrew world. Final details can be posted in the Alias if/when accepted, but are not included here in the first draft.

NAME: Dracona
Race: human (Half-dragon)
Class: Barbarian
Alignment: Neutral. She enjoys too many things, some gratifying and some altruistic, to truly fall to one extreme or another. Also with her aging falling outside most humanoid cycles, she doesn't always see things in the typical perspective of human morals.
Appearance: Dracona is tall and massive, cutting an imposing figure head and shoulders above common folk; the natural might of her ancestors is unmistakable. Her scales are a deep crimson, though her general skin tone is a smoky gray. She prefers fitted clothing that prevents anyone from forgetting just how much muscle mass she carries, and that does not interfere with her tail and wings. Despite this, her face is not only human, but quite striking, perhaps made even more so by her powerful presence and her piercing gaze, focused through eyes like smooth rubies. Wide, frilled ears, a head of crested horns, and an untamed mane of blood red hair complete her memorable visage.
Personality: Honest, yet ambitious; empathetic, yet frank and earnest. Detached from society emotionally, yet intellectually drawn to it, Dracona is a creature torn by opposing urges, constantly trying to reconcile her dual natures.

CONCEPT ELEMENTS

1. born from an experiment between dragons, Dracona carries a mix of bloodlines from red and black dragons. She is humanoid, but figure is augmented with much of the tools and features of her ancestry. Her red blood provides her dominant features, but her black heritage shows through alongside it, especially in her skin.

2. Dracona has long been a survivor and a runaway, after escaping her tyrannous creators in her youth. She has learned to hunt, to fight, and to address her draconic instincts in the wilds, and only recently has learned to deal with humans. Like all dragons, she still carries strong instincts of hunting, hoarding, combat and lairing; these urges are at times in conflict with her surprisingly humane nature and her desire to be accepted by others. Though she is quick to retaliate against any danger or challenge, she is quite empathetic to the human condition, and does not relish the deaths of bystanders.

3. In conversation, Dracona is brutally blunt, and somewhat disdainful of petty matters, especially those that lack integrity or real value. Though she knows that humanoid civilization is mercurial compared the long lives of dragons, she cares little for decisions that make no real, meaningful gains for one's community or one's self. She is also older than most humans, bearing the logevity of her Draconic heritage, and she sometimes dismisses the value of temporal things when they do not interest her directly.

4. Dracona's physical behaviors are as much dragon as human; when she speaks, it is because words are needed. If a growl, a roar, or a display of might will do, she saves her speech. When she fights, she tries to remain disciplined, but when pressed, will sometimes act like a dragon: she may run on all fours, flaring her wings and baring her fangs to terrify her enemies when her rage overtakes her.

5. Dracona would be very much an imperious red dragon-child, were it not for her encounter with a peasant family in her youth. She was scavenging for food when she was caught by a farmer in his food silo. Rather than chase her away with a pitchfork, as had happened to her many times, he grew curious about the strange child, and in the end, he and his wife learned to accept her and began to raise her as their own. Their empathy and tolerance seeded a soft spot in her otherwise survival-hardened young heart. They met their end when her dragon parent tracked her to the farm, decades ago.

GOALS

1. Acquire treasure, build a hoard, find a place of leadership and power for herself, and find greatness through a combination of her might, wealth, and integrity, likely by founding her own city or even country.

2. Seek powerful opponents to challenge her strength, allow her to grow, and satisfy her simmering urge for battle.

3. In the far future, find a worthy mate, likely half-dragon himself, and sire her own brood. (Not counting on it.)

4. Meeting her draconic parent would be an interesting opportunity to either get on his good side, get some answers to his motives, or put him down once and for all (maybe even all three in some order.)

SECRETS

1. Unknown to Dracona, due to an astronomical unlikelihood caused by the nature of her creation, she is actually genetically incompatible with virtually all specimens, draconic, humanoid, or otherwise. Siring a child will be nearly impossible for her without exactly the right mate.

2. Dracona knows the burial site of the only potential mate she considered worthy and that might have been capable of giving her offspring. It is located in a snow-capped, cloud-swathed mountain, and camoflagued by mundane and magical means. She checks it regularly to ensure it is not disturbed.

PERSONAL TIES

1. Maiev, an ancient wizard of unusual origin, seems to be a cross of elven and naga blood, and while she and Dracona were at odds over the aforementioned mate for many years, his death has left a void they eventually filled. While they still couldn't be considered close, since their reconciliation, they are much more comfortable around each other in recent years.

2. Kakita Koji, a wanderer of foreign lands and culture, is one of Dracona's foremost teachers in hand-to-hand combat. He was the first person to endure the full fury of her rage in battle with calm and focus, and she was intrigued by his skills. In the intervening years, she trained under him in an effort to learn precision, control, and technique. While she remains draconic in her habits and style, she has developed much restraint under his tutelage and he remains optimistic in her progress.

3. Alkaine is another half-dragon creation of Dracona's parents. Though he shares much of her draconic gifts, he has little of her humanity and compassion. He fully embraces his draconic instincts and brings his cunning to bear against everyone around him in his quest for power, often trying to influence Dracona herself with diplomacy, riches, and clever plays at her goals and desires. His physical might rivals hers, but he has never quite bested her in a fair fight.

4. Miria Dremen is a young mercenary, and a descendant of one of Dracona's old friends named Telcia. the story goes that Telcia was once hired to assassinate Dracona by some upstart noble in retaliation for her thwarting his schemes, but she failed, and by some twist of fate, eventually came to befriend the dragonchild. Rumors abound that Dracona herself murdered the assassin-turned-companion, though this is far from reality. Sadly, the truth of Telcia's death has not reached Miria's ears, and the naive young warrior misguidedly plots against Dracona to this day. Dracona has made no move to attack her in return, since she made a promise to Telcia to protect her descendants.

MEMORIES, MANNERISMS, OR QUIRKS

1. Dracona vividly remembers the death of her mate; she could feel the life ebb from his blood-soaked body as he passed. She tends to stay away from mated couples, and takes pains to avoid scenes of romantic loss; the images only open old wounds.

2. despite having hardened claws from her ancestry, Dracona shies away from using them in combat, preferring closed fists and grappling to the bloody swipes of her claws.

3. While around people, or when indoors, Dracona folds her wings about her like a cloak to keep from banging into things or blocking eyesight.

"HALT!"

The shout from the human male was unmistakably that of a soldier. Since her arrival, people had been whispering where they thought she couldn't hear, but her frilled ears missed very little. Now, it seemed, they had called their guards in a panic. Spears encircled her in the open street, but her wings remained folded. Picking out the leader of their number, her purposeful, measured voice sighed, and rumbled in query. "Is there a problem, guardsman?"

"We've had reports of some kind of...demon strolling through town, in broad daylight. Your kind aren't usually so brash, fiend. What do you want?"

Snarling at the description, Dracona's response was more a growl than a reply. Fiend?? Your tongue outpaces your mind, human. I am a Dragon, and I am here to trade with your merchants, not break your soldiers."

The captain's surprise was evident, but he kept his composure. "I'm not taking chances with the safety of my town. You'll either withdraw at once or be bound for inquisition." The captain waved behind him, and a woman in grey robes stepped forward and began to weave signs in the air with a low chant. Dracona folded her arms with a smirk. As the caster finished her spell, a glowing rune appeared beneath Dracona's feet. Breathing a sigh of relief, the soldiers lowered their spears.

"Amusing, how some people simply do not listen." Dracona dropped her arms and strode forward, stopping just outside the circle. The shock on the woman's face was quite plain, and the captain began to sweat. "Dragon. Not devil. Pay attention." Holding up the pouch tied at her belt, she addressed the unit as a whole. "I'm going to your market to shop, and then I will leave. Keep your weapons at your sides, and that's all I will do." She shot a threatening glare at the woman as well. "And keep your spells to yourself."

As she moved to leave, the group of spearmen parted, save for one. Though he trembled, he kept his spear aimed high, at her throat. His eyes burned with anger more than fear, and his teeth were gritted to the breaking point. "You monsters took generations of my family from me. I won't let you do it again."

Dracona raised an eyebrow at the young man, barely in his second decade of life. Slowly, she lifted a hand to the spearhead, closed her fingers around it, and squeezed. The splinters flew in every direction, and the steel point clattered to the ground. "Boy. Do not put me with the scum that tried to poison this world. I kill when I hunger and when I am wronged. I do not know your scent, and have taken nothing from you but this spear. Point your rage at the right monster, or your life, and your death will have no meaning."

Pushing him aside, Dracona continued her stride, searching for merchants with interesting wares. The entire unit wiped sweat from the brows as they exchanged nervous glances. The young cleric turned to her captain. "Do we...pursue? Or..."

"N-no," He stammered. "Just...make sure someone is watching her every move. I will alert the council and keep vigil. Issue orders: no member of the guard is to approach or engage her unless she attacks someone first. I only hope her intentions are benign; we may lack the means to stop her, regardless of her aims..."

Kly’s story begins with a druid and an alchemist. Persecuted by Erasmus for refusing to go along with the totalitarian nature of their nation, they were forced to flee or be slain. Neither worshipped a god, and while they held no enmity towards those who did, they did not like being forced into stultified silence. The druid, Verana, procured many of the necessary components for the alchemist, Lillian, in her work. The ladies escaped harassment for a time as their elixirs were so potent, the city in which they lived would be hard-pressed to replicate them. Owning their own shop, they made their own way against the grain in the city. A change in leaders saw a more hard-line stance come, however, and witch hunts began. High on the list, they were made to answer for their “crimes “ of godless sorcery in a “fair” trial – which was anything but. Fleeing the nation, they ended up in Drakomaar.

Its natural beauty a paradise, Verana’s thirst for experimentation only grew; stories held magic was in the very waters of the land, and so they set up camp next to a lake. A small island in its center held a small grove of pines. Theorizing the trees might be somehow different than others due to their magical nutrients, Verana pleaded with Lillian to have her grant sentience to one of the conifers. The druid had worked such feats before, but once or twice back in Erasmus when the need was dire. She did not like granting life, did not feel it was her place. Lillian was persuaded by Verana though, the merchant’s silver tongue winning over yet another person. So it was Kly came to be, spawning in the middle of the grove. Unlike its family around it, it was humanoid in shape, though with many plant characteristics. A timeless memory of the area stood in its head and somehow a working knowledge of his “mothers’” languages as well, but Kly was otherwise a novice in essentially every area. Even though it remembered having some connection with the trees around it, it could no longer communicate with them, and it felt out-of-place. Over the years, its guardian couple remedied that somewhat, teaching it the ways of the world. Stories of cities fascinated Kly, but since it had never been, they were whimsical fairy tales to it.

As the years wore on, Verana grew disinterested with Kly, having gathered all the data she needed from her experiment. Though Lillian cared for it as her child, Verana responded with annoyance when Kly “bothered” her with questions. In secret, she was afraid of the creature: she’d found the lake contained a high concentration of dragonsblood, and the percentage was even higher in their creation’s sap. Verana knew the horrors the keepers of magic had wrought on the world, and she didn’t wish to see that come to fruition again. Unable to bring herself to admit awakening the tree was a mistake, she shunned it. Lillian became angry with Verana, chastising her for her treatment of Kly, and the two grew apart.

While the ladies bickered, Kly felt the situation was its fault. At first, much of what was internalized was sadness, guilt for the conflict. This depression turned to anger though, Kly being upset at its guardians. Why didn’t they care about it? It had nobody else to turn to and lashed out against Verana and Lillian. Though Lillian regarded the upset for the frustration it was, Verana thought it was the creature’s draconic taint manifesting itself in a vile fashion. She decided then the creature had to be put down. That night, she created an alchemical bomb and snuck up on it from behind; though Kly did not sleep, he often gazed out across the lake at night, daydreaming in a sense. Lillian happened to see her, and the druid intercepted the alchemist, Verana’s intent clear. The two struggled, and the bomb errantly detonated – on them. Kly heard the explosion and rushed to the site, but it was too late; giblets of meat from their torsos and armors littered the grove. Kly was unaware the two meant to harm it, but the shards of glass told it the explosion was likely due to fault with an experiment. Weeping over its dead guardians, it gathered their bodies and took them to the lake – a burial of sorts they had told it stories about, something at least Lillian said she wanted when she passed. As their blood darkened the water, Kly pushed what remained of the bodies deeper into the water.

The women had told it stories about a place called Eralan, one of those seemingly mythical cities (to Kly) where people could live how they wanted. Kly knew the general direction of the settlement, but not the distance. It decided to go there anyway, the island of its awakening filled with sorrow now. It took Kly some time, but it stumbled onto the nation, a relative utopia. Buildings – something Kly hadn’t seen before its journey – filled the landscape, a plethora of people walking the streets. The wonders of the advanced world abounded, and it fell in love with them.

Not so long after its awakening though, Kly still had no purpose in life. However, after entering Elanar, it felt a duty to spread message of civilization, for Kly believed itself surely forsaken to nothingness without it. Therefore, it joined the church of Abadar, pledging itself to learn the ways of furthering the progress of the thinking races ? which it associated itself with, subconsciously. Over time, it began to dislike those feeling differently about what it saw as the inevitable direction of humanoids - bettering themselves through innovation and ingenuity. Bondage to antiquated ways stirred ire in it, and those refusing to accept such advancements were rejected by it as simpletons. Though it did not understand the foundations of alchemy or engineering with any degree of excellence, Kly was superb at communicating their boons to the church's congregation and others. Part of what made Kly able to strike a chord in large portions of the populous with such success is it did not care so much about the secular or religious divide in its nation. Though a member of the faithful itself, it lauded the scientific advancements of the secular community. Initially distrustful of their alien convert, the upper clergy decided to make use of Kly as they could; sponsoring it for political office, they successfully overrode many of the conservative dissenters' opinions (which held Kly's viewpoints on technology were heretical) and had it appointed to a secular position. Even as one so different, Kly was able to have a hearty amount of public support, and the polarization between the factions decreased with its presence.

Over time, its rhetoric became more extreme with regards to the “progress of civilization”; Kly insisted it was not good enough to promote such industry among themselves, but they also had an obligation to do so in places where it wouldn't happen without their help - notably his “birth”place of Drakomaar. Ironically, the people who'd brought it to life in the wilds to escape the trappings of their community had created a zealot bent on bringing “the freedoms of society” to the Wildwood. Putting its martial and magical training in the church to use, it led a few sorties into the lands as part of what is known as “Civilization's Crusade.” Conquered populations are forced to become literate in a year's time, adopt a form of government similar to that of Eledar, open schools and orphanages run by the state, and construct both a functioning temple to Abadar and school for the arcane arts. The parties must also pay Eledar a so-called “liberty tax” for the cost of their “freedom”.

With a fondness for meat, Kly has great respect for artists of the kitchen, and gluttony is perhaps the deadliest of the sins for it after wrath; its patience is quite short, and its deep, stentorian voice can rumble with little provocation.

Cleanliness, neatness, and punctuality are high on Kly's expectations of others and itself. It has a great respect for those able to master their fields of study - magic, alchemy, smithing, etc., and shows deference to experts accordingly.

Step 1: Write 5 background and concept elements that you feel are important to your image of the character. These can be a concept overview, a list of important life events, a physical description, a personality profile...whatever you need to get an image in your mind.

1) The only one of its kind (to its knowledge), Kly’s original status as a plant manifests itself obviously across its body – green in shade, an almost rubbery texture, vine tendrils instead of fingers – but does not detract from its quite human-like curiosity and appreciation of modern conveniences.

2) A leader in its church and the community, Kly is a testament to the possibility of reconciling the religious and secular factions of Eralan; though a person of faith itself, it holds no grudges against those seeking to discover the mysteries of the arcane – and, in fact, encourages them. This has earned it the scorn of some more conservative members in Abadar’s clergy though, holding peoples’ progress should follow the god’s divine authority to provide direction instead.

3) A proponent of “Civilization’s Crusade”, Kly has recently been involved in creating vassals of Drakomaar’s outlying regions to force “progress” upon them, earning it accolades as a brave leader and stalwart fighter. This is ironic in a sense as the land Kly conquers is that of its awakening.

4) It has no true friends (though many acquaintances) as many find it too strange to consider a companion, and though it desires no mate (it is asexual), the need for social connection is strong. Kly can be given to dally for conversation and pleasantries perhaps longer than it should if it feels it can make a positive connection with the people involved.

5) Kly is envious of those with minds acute enough to master topics such as magic and architecture. Though it deeply respects them, it resents its lack of talent in these areas – perhaps due to its biology or perhaps due to its lack of formal education in the wilds of its youth.

Step 2: List at least two goals for the character. At least one of these goals should be one that the character has, while another should be one that you, as a player, want to see developed over the course of the game.

1) One of Kly’s goals is to bring a victorious end to Civilization’s Crusade, leaving Drakomaar an organized, educated, and fully-utilized nation, contrary much to what it is now.

2) Kly also would like to make a group of people whom it could call friends, but it has failed to do so thus far. Its very public life means this is a goal not many would expect, but the plant creature is actually rather lonely at the end of the day. Many shallow connections do not a friendship make, and Kly is not skilled in that regard.

Step 3: List at least two secrets about your character. One is a secret the character knows, one is a secret that involves him but that he is not actually aware of yet. This will help me in creating plots that center around your character. I will also be creating a third secret which you as a player will not be aware of, so expect some surprises!

1) Kly is aware of – but does not tell anyone – about how it was brought into the world. While it reveals the general area of its upbringing, it keeps completely silent regarding Verana and Lillian, preserving their memory from erosion by others. It also does not disclose the location his birth-grove. It is concerned it would be even more unacceptable as a personal friend if people knew of that queer creation.

2) Unaware of Verana’s findings, Kly is unaware of the copious proportion of dragon’s blood in its xylem. While its biology is yet plant-dominated, scrying, alchemical trials, and other litmus tests can discern it as dragonkin. The only physical manifestation of this composition at present is the scale-like patterns on its surface, but perhaps it is not truly the power of prayer wholly responsible for its greatness…

3) Also secret to Kly is deep knowledge of the lake surrounding its birth island. The enchanted waters have no creatures living in them yet are equally averse to things dying or dead in them. One of the reasons the dragonsblood is potent inside Kly is because of the preserving nature of the lake. Immersing the dead then in such a body of water before they go cold could provide interesting results, though this was an experiment Verana never tried. Ironically, she and Lillian became the subjects in the lake. As such, their final fate is unknown.

Step 4: Describe at least three people that are tied to the character. Two of them are friendly to the character, one is hostile. If you like, you can include an enemy of yours here as well, so I have an instant NPC nemesis to throw at you.

1) Bishop Callon is the chief detractor from Kly in Abadar’s church. The bishop’s belief is major societal decisions should have divine guidance; to do so without is akin to heresy. While he is not quite so extreme as to wish to outlaw such practices (a la Erasmus), he believes they should be kept out of the spotlight, an emphasis placed on “traditional” values of their religion to the tacit exclusion of the secular types in power. Kly’s stance is too progressive for him, and they frequently spar over it – verbally, that is.

2) The other major people in Kly’s life were Verana and Lillian, but their history is a bit more complicated than a bullet can justify, so do read the background (in the race section) to get a fuller idea. In short, they brought Kly into the world, but their opinions on it remaining diverged after discovering more of its nature. They lie dead of their own doing at Kly’s awakening grounds. Kly feels nostalgia for them, misses them, though this wasn’t always the case.

Step 5: Describe three memories, mannerisms, or quirks that your character has. They don't have to be elaborate, but they should provide some context and flavor.

1) Kly remembers the first wedding it witnessed in the Elanar; it was the first time it felt truly alone among people. Though the newlyweds had but coppers to their name, the sense they had something it never would gnawed at it.

2) Kly has a somewhat disturbing way of acquainting itself with new people. A usual handshake with it is a tactile trek, its vine-like “fingers” feeling the person at hand. Similarly, judging quality of fabric or fruit involves much touching, and many vendors turn their noses up at it.

3) Memories of his birth-grove and the lake around it visit Kly frequently, particularly the burial it performed. It subconsciously has an urge to revisit the site, but the goal-oriented part of it clashes with this desire, yet it persistently remains.

Name - Norgana
Race - Peri-Blooded Aasimar (Emberkin)
Class - Magus/Witch
Alignment - Chaotic Good - Well... Norgana has developed her own sense of right and wrong and she sticks to it because it hasn't failed her yet - since she is a raging girl (and also see background below), she gets drawn a lot into aggressiveness, taking upon herself to punish those she feels deserve it. She means well, but her ideals are still slightly askew.
Appearance - Norgana carries herself confidently wherever she is. She has a lithe image but solidly built, and moves in an unmistakingly predatory manner. Her most noticeable features are her unbeliavably pale blue eyes and her white hair that reacts to her mood. She wears a deep red silk vestment consisting of several layers of cloth and an outer layer of silk intricately woven with gold brocade designs and covered with metal studs.
From a small leather bag always carried at her side, it is sometimes possible to spot the pincers from her familiar companion - a King Crab by the name of Jaws.
Personality - Norgana is very quick to anger, and almost always reacts violently to those she believes are taking advantage of, or preying upon the weak. she is capable of small talk and deception, but she usually avoids so, as it bothers her to no end.

The Ten-Minute Background

Concept elements

- “Her HAIR!! I tell you it has a life of its own!!”
- Norgana travels bearing a weight on her shoulders – they had stoned and staked her, paying dearly for it with their own lives. Neighbors, former friends, acquaintances… All left behind in a smoking pile of ashes, amidst torn bodies and screams. No one would ever corner her again… EVER!
- Her potential has come to be through the guidance of Tamisan, the head of the covenant.
- Dissention and jealousy drove her out alongside many promises of pain and eternal damnation. She chose not to react this time, the memories of her burning hometown still carved in her head;
- Moving from one place to another, more damned than blessed, never truly finding a place to call home, or where to settle but… Does she really want it?
- Arrogant, cold and furious – take hold of your destiny if you can – if you cannot, step aside for those who can. No one ever gives anything to the weak. Grow strong and TAKE it.

Goals

- Personal growth is what Norgana is all about. She has been through a lot of bad experiences in life, and they have turned her into a cold blooded creature, living on her principles alone.
- The biggest irony about her is the fact that she disdains those that outcast her, all the while not noticing that she has turned into one of them – arrogant, intolerant and not a complete ignorant simply because she is a smart girl.
- She does not know it, but is looking for a place in the world, recognition and perhaps even validation for what she is, whatever that may be.
- She harbors deep resentment against the elements of her coven that drove her out when she was starting to feel at home, most of all against Tamisan for having deceived her, pretending to guide her when the plan was to use her. She intends to return with a vengeance… In time…

Secrets

- Word of her atrocities when she left her hometown are not unknown in the region, but years have passed and she has changed dramatically, much different from the whimpering young girl that cried while her hair gained a life of its own and threw his abusing neighbor into the fires of his home. However, SHE knows that she is the responsible for the Ravuinen massacre – no matter how she covers it with hate and rage, beneath it there is guilt.
- The massacre was not all Norgana doing – even though she has celestial heritage from the side of her father, he has long since fallen from grace totally in the opposite way – she hasn’t seen him since she was 5, and unbeknownst to her, he was the voice whispering in her ear while she destroyed the town, his were the dark whispers that awoke her powers, at the same time that they crept insidiously on the edges of her consciousness – he has plans for her.

People

- Her father – name unknown
- Tamisan
- Her mother – Fran – she was left behind, staring at Norgana with tears in her eyes for the destruction she wrought in Ravuinen – they haven’t spoken or seen each other since. Norgana does not know if she is still alive and she does not care, blaming her hard for not having protected her.

Mannerisms

- Norgana’s hair seems to move regardless of her will – this comes across as slight details like soft movement when there is no wind, looking sometimes longer and sometimes shorter, things that someone would notice if they were really paying attention;
- At the same time, that same hair shows an unmistakable will that accompanies her emotions, coiling around her protectively when she feels sad or somehow shaken, flowing wildly, grabbing and smashing objects when she is angered, or simply unfolding its length when she is relaxed
- Her eyes contrast with her otherwise stern appearance – huge soft deep blue orbs that contrast with her hard face and almost permanent scowl;

RP Sample:

From across the tavern, the two half drunken town guards were clearly whispering about her – she could feel their leering from all the way across the crowded tavern – actually she could even hear them, as her hair started discreetly twitching.
- “There is something evil about that bit@& I tells ya!”
- “Wouldn’t mind a go at her though!” – the other one responded as he rose his mug in a toast that brought a cheer from the remaining three, followed by huge roaring laughter
Dropping a coin at the table, she stood calmly and headed for the door without a word. Just before leaving, a wink and a mischievous smile to the biggest man at the table were enough. Her mind did not actually register any of this – she was sitting idly back at the deep end of her own consciousness while the primal took over.
Soon enough she could their footsteps behind her – three of the pathetic men had decided to follow her – she led them through the well-known streets to solitary area where she knew they would draw courage to approach – predictably they did.
- “Evening Ma’am… Not a good place for a beautiful young lady to be walking alone at night, is it now…?” – she could sense the smile in his tone as she turned around, alluring and smirking, facing the three of them;
- “Much better than that crowded inn back there is it not?” – Her voice dropped icy venom already, she knew she couldn’t keep up this façade much longer – “More privacy so that you boys can take advantage of someone frail like me right..?”
Her words noticeably took them slightly aback, and they stammered:
- “Well, huh… Advantage? What do you mean? We are simply…”
- “Simply what..? Simply trying to have a nice pre supper meal before you return there to drink yourselves into a stupor?”
- “Now wait a moment…” – one of them took a step forward
Her hand reached casually for the pin that held her hair tied back, letting it unfold, impossibly long.
- “I am waiting. You were saying..?”
Turning to one of the others nervously he pressed on:
- “I told you! That hair ain’t natural! Look here lady, best you run along your merry way while we…”
The thought never left his mouth as a strand of icy cold hair wrapped around his neck, causing his belabored breath to come out in wisps of hot air, as if the temperature had suddenly and steeply dropped.
- “While you what DOGS!? While you lay dead in the alley?!” – by now her presence was overwhelming, the flowing hair extending from her head, probing and poking the others, while her very voice shook them where they stood with words they could not fathom
- “Or while you prey on those you perceive weaker?! Maybe just different?! Would that be enough?!”
- “Wait! We…”
- “Silence!! I don’t want to hear anymore! You die here and NOW!”
From a distance, a shadowy figure witnessed the entire scene with a smile on its lips. He witnessed as the men begged for life on their knees, the frail, beautiful woman now alike a monstrosity towering over them. She laughed with glee, while she tortured them with pain, and an uncannily strong grip from her preternatural hair – they screamed, cried, and then it was over.
It stopped as abruptly as it had started – the woman left the alley and behind her were left the whimpering fools – not dead, but broken – she would be in their nightmares for a long time – “Aaaah Norgana, you are not there yet, but how proud you make me…”

He is a man that tries to prepare for everything. Every item on his person has a secondary and tertiary use. He hates being caught unawares or getting things wrong. He goes out of his way to understand those around him either to pinpoint weaknesses for future reference or to file away possible allies or contacts when the hard-times come.

He is an ex-soldier. He has seen combat in all forms; sieges, trench warfare, singles tournaments. He may not talk about his past and may even actively try to forget about it, the way he carries himself betrays it.

He has few friends when it comes to his mercenary work. The business has a way of killing off the weak or unprepared so he has seen many come and go. It is why he chooses the less passionate path, why he refuses personal connections and focuses solely on the mission at hand. He is pragmatic to a fault.

The reason for his current profession is a secret he guards closely. He rarely buys new equipment, sending most of his coin away to what many believe to be a personal accounts manager. That is not the whole truth, but it is enough that people stop asking him prying questions.

He is religious, believing heavily in whatever setting deity personifies redemption. His is a path that often leads him down dark roads and back-alleys, but he would like to think at the end of the journey there will be peace awaiting him. If there was any other way available to him, he would take it. But there is not.

Goals-
Stranger would love nothing more than to be able to retire. He is old and he is weary. He takes job after job, hoping that it will be the last. But it never is. If the score for whatever work was big enough, he would finally be able to hang up his blade for good.

Barring that, one of the best things that could happen to Stranger is that he forms lasting bonds with his companions. It would be hard going, as the man is a brick wall when it comes to personality / history. But if it did, it would give him something else to fight for.

And if none of the above occur, a heroic death would give him the redemption he craves. Saving the world, or dying so that the people he cares about (or not, depending on the situation) can live. Standard martyrdom scenario, wiping away the slate in a deluge of his own blood.

Secrets-
Stranger’s true name is William MacKay, and he was a soldier and he did some terrible things. After those times were over, he thought nothing of doing terrible things. He became a sellsword to support his family, a wife and a child who receive coin from him every week along with a touching letter. He keeps the wedding band on a chain around his neck so he does not forget them.

Stranger has also gone out of his way to make sure nobody knows who he is underneath the mask. But if people want to find you badly enough, they will. So perhaps his family has been kidnapped or otherwise dealt with in order to slake some fire of revenge.

Characters Tied to Mine -
Vangard Broadcloak - Stranger’s old commanding officer back in his army boy days. They maintain a rapport to this day through letters and clandestine meetings in taverns best left unnamed. They have great respect for one another, despite being on different sides of the fence. Vangard working for a principality either as the leader of a local militia band and Stranger working for the highest bidder.

Estavia Callenbridge - A mistake he made a long time ago. He allowed himself to get close to a fellow mercenary, a woman, and she wound up bridging the gap that he had purposely left unfilled. They talk from time to time and have occasionally worked together despite Stranger’s best judgement. (Romantic / Infedelity best left forgotten.)

Nemia MacKay - His wife. A priestess who convinced him that redemption was within his grasp. Mother of his daughter and the single greatest thing Stranger has ever accomplished. She is the light in the darkness, the end of the trail where the wood opens into a fertile glade. She is his everything and he would be lost without her and his child.

Character Quirks / Mannerisms-
Stranger insists on keeping equipment until it has become too warped and broken to use. He hates spending coin that could otherwise be used to keep his family comfortable. This has marked him as a cheapskate with several outfits, especially when his hiring price is so steep.

He has a fear of being paralyzed. He is getting old and his body is the only thing he has left that can keep money flowing in. If he loses it, he would be nothing and his family would have nothing. It is one of the only things that can make his hackles rise.

He prays for the dead after a battle, placing their swords in their hands if there is time. If not, he mumbles quiet words behind his battle mask and moves on.

The dawn broke red over the mountains and spilled crimson into the valley below. On the edge of the city of Almas and beyond the grey stone walls of the city proper, a woman had begun the long walk home. This was a journey she made gladly. Her pace was slow but purposeful, her stride gimped partly by a leg wound that had not knit correctly. She wore the simple robes of a priestess and held in her hand a knotted walking stick that had been blanched at the top with iron the color of her greying temples. Her hair was short, lips thin and creased along the edges where her scowl had found permanency. Her eyes however, were bright and green and full of life. They took in the trees stooping over the dirt path she trod and made note of the foot-prints on the soil beneath her booted heel, foot-prints that she had made nearly every day for the past twenty-three years. This was no religious pilgrimage, there was no day to be won. She sought no glory save for what little could be achieved by the fireside when the sun had finally set and the stars had come out.

The home that she turned in to was not a mansion by any means. It was simple and functional, with enough rooms to house a wife and her husband and even a child if the Goddess provided. And provided she had, for the second the priestess leaned her staff against the post that held up the doorframe, a small girl flew like an arrow straight into her arms.

“Mommy!” The child squealed, her embrace as tight as a vice. “I thought you were never coming back!”

“You’re an hour late,” came a voice from the living room. It was deep and somber, but had an edge that had not softened over the years. “I was beginning to think some other family had stolen you away.”

She rounded the corner, daughter still clinging to her. The priestess’ face once dour and lined, became smooth and bright. It lit up in a grin that lifted all the burden from her person and left her fresh and new. Her husband, goddess bless him, was home. A single tear dewed her cheek and for once in a very long while, the three of them joined as a family while the quiet of the morning gave way to afternoon.

Name: Death Bredon (Rhymes with "wreath," not with "breath.") He also has six other names that he doesn't use.

Race: Gnome (male)
Class: Bard (writer)

Alignment: CG -- fundamentally a good person, but chafes under the social restrictions expected of him by his family, class, and the Valan/Acadamy society. Does a very good job of _acting_ Lawful Good, however, as that's only "good manners."

Appearance: Dresses in a tasteful combination of fashionable and functional, the equivalent in this world of a Brooks Brothers suit with a classic Burberry trench coat, for an effect that is aristocratic without being attention-getting. Like many gnomes, he is a little more flamboyant in the matter of headgear, and will often wear an oversized, wide-brimmed cavalry-style hat with an oversized roc plume (the effect looks as much like a feather wearing a gnome accessory as the other way around). He often affects a walking stick (usually with some sort of masterwork tool concealed in it) and a monocle (which he uses as a discreet magnifying glass). Carries a well-polished snuff box (which he uses as a Sense Motive tool -- it's an old gambler's trick he picked up from one of his disreputable contacts).

He has very pale, almost white, hair and piercing green eyes. Most of the time he acts like a stereotypical vapid aristocrat, making uncontroversial small talk and listening with little reaction to almost anything people will say. He's much smarter than he lets on and it's very easy to underestimate him.

I'm not at all an artist so no picture, I'm afraid.

Personality: Extremely polite, almost stereotypically so; very careful and guarded in his speech but still friendly and accessible. Very intelligent and well-educated but takes pains to hide it except among friends; when he lets his guard down, he's got a very quick sense of humor and an appropriate (if irreverent) quotation for every situation.

He is a relative rarity, a bard who concentrates on the written word instead of stage performance; he has published a number of genre novels. This is considered to be relatively scandalous (scrivening is not an appropriate hobby for an aristocrat) by his family, as is his interest in 'adventuring.' He is very friendly (if reserved) and not at all prejudiced by class; his willingness when not 'on parade' to sit and have a quiet beer with a drayman or blacksmith also bothers his family and professional acquaintances. One of their fears -- and a well-justified fear it is -- is that he will someday bring home a thoroughly unsuitable woman (a grocer's daughter or something) with the intention of marrying her. He often longs to be free of the social restrictions placed upon him, but at the sometime would like to be able to settle down to an academic position in Academy City (which of course is likely to be even more socially restrictive; our wishes aren't always sensible. Or as he would put it, "all utopias are designed by those who aren't there").

When not indulging his hobbies -- which also include more normal pursuits like music, art, and wine -- he is often called upon as an unofficial diplomat for the Valan government and/or the Academy, and although Death would like to admit it, he is an accomplished spy, being able to travel almost anywhere and talk to people about many subjects, carry messages, or arrange meetings between people who would not ordinarily have a chance to be in each other's company.

TMB:
Step 1: 1) He is an aristocratic gnome of good family (the younger brother of a high Valan noble with extensive holdings). He's also very wealthy in his own right.
2) He is very intelligent and perceptive, but keeps it under wraps because "it's not done"; much of what he wants to do he feels he can't because it wouldn't be good manners.
3) In private he's more open and unguarded; his personal hobbies include un-aristocratic pursuits such as writing potboilers, adventuring, wandering in the wild, and so forth.
4) He often acts as an unofficial diplomat and problem-smoother-over, using his social standing and personality in conjunction with his lack of official standing to facilitate or observe events without drawing attention.
5) He is extremely well-educated and interested in the arcane arts, but his interests and personality are much more bardic than traditionally "magician"; he finds arcane research deeply interesting but much of the tradition-bound atmosphere of Academy City to be stultifying. He is both pulled by and repelled by the idea of settling down full-time as a researcher or administrator in one of the colleges.
6) He has an informal habit of "investigating" strange happenings, and an extensive network of contacts of people -- not "his type of people at all," but he rather likes that -- whom he's met during these adventures.
7) Among these contacts is a young lady (gnome) whom he likes and respects very much, but he knows that his family would never approve of such a match. Which he doesn't care about this very much, he doesn't want to subject her to the ridicule if he tried to bring her into the family circle -- and she has so far been resistant to his (polite, restrained) overtures to her, although they are friends. (Basically, she'll join him for a drink or a concert from time to time, but has issues of her own she's sorting out, and is not looking for romantic involvement.)
Step 2: 1) He would like to find a way to reconcile his own desire for freedom with a position working on magical studies in the Academy.
2) He would like to persuade the young lady described above to marry him and to persuade his family not only to accept, but to welcome her.
I think both of these goals would be cool not only in and out of character; I think heroic adventure is likely to be a good path to both of those goals.
Step 3: 1) Basically, almost all of his public life is a secret:
* He is a lot more intelligent and perceptive than he lets on
* Many of his hobbies are the sort of thing he has to pretend not to be interested in
* He can't really be open about his interest in his would-be girlfriend
2) Similarly, as a diplomat, he knows a lot of stuff he can't talk about; even if it isn't some sort of military secret, it's often stuff that would be embarrassing and put someone important into a bad light.
3) He doesn't know that much of the facilitation that he does is not on behalf of the Valan government or the Academy, but on behalf of various criminal interests using them as a front; the meeting he arranged between an Aeonar arms merchant and a Valan ship captain may be about smuggling or gun-running instead of arming the navy.
Step 4:
1) Deborah (more names available when I need to come up with them): a very pretty and practical but thoroughly middle-class female gnome whom Death met and rescued on one of his adventures. Death is very quietly and surreptitiously smitten by her.
2) Chrystopeter, Earl of Divis: Death's elder brother, head of the Divis family and the associated trading cartel. A typical aristocratic country squire, much less intelligent than his brother.
3) Elena, Countess of Divis : Death's sister-in-law, a total snob who insists that Death is a traitor to his class and family. Although she'd probably not kill him outright, she'd not be above trying to sabotage some of the things he does, and would be easy for a more malicious villain to manipulate.
4) Magister Artibus, Master Illusionist: a high-ranking academic who considers Death something of a prize student, but is disappointed by his failure to knuckle down and do something "proper" with his talents (i.e. his adventuring instead of studying and working for the Academy in a more traditional capacity.) Again, not actively hostile but certainly someone who could be used to manipulate Death.
Step 5:
1) One of Bredon's most important memories is meeting Deborah in the lair of a lycanthropic ogre, then spending a week with her locked in a deserted barn, in case she showed signs of infection. He tried hard to treat her as a valued guest instead of a potentially psychotic mass murdering prisoner.
2) Another important memory is his first experience casting spells (Dancing Lights) in his first year at the Academy.
3) His first adventure is also important. While staying with a friend of the family over a vacation from school, a group of dopplegangers robbed a local marketplace. Bredon was "volunteered" into a posse to help track them down. During the hunt, he and a small unit of local rangers were separated and ambushed; Bredon and one other person were captured, but managed to escape using a combination of his magic and the ranger's woodcraft (and thus learned the location of the doppleganger hideout). Although the adventure was "successful," the loss of the rest of his unit hit him hard (especially when he met some of the families of the dead men), and he found the relative nonchalance of the aristocratic families of the region to be callous and heartless.

RP Sample:
-- "… but I keep coming back to the apple. I ask myself, would Lady Carlotta have dropped an apple after only one bite? And I answer, _NEIN_, she would not. Therefore, it was dropped by someone else, someone who wanted her to hang for the --- hmm, am I giving too much away in this chapter? Steady on, let's slow down and see how much to leave for the next --- damn it!

The knock on the door repeated itself. In response to the expletive, a pretty young maid announced a visitor.

-- Lord Bredon, my boy, how are you?
-- Ah, your grace, how wonderful to see you! Sherry? And how may I be of service to the Lucky God?
-- No, thank you -- all right, just a glass, then. Officially, I am here to offer the services of the Lucky God to you. Tonight is the first night of the Maibock festival, and we would be honored to have such a noted guest as yourself.
-- I accept, with pleasure. And unofficially? No, that chair's uncomfortably small for you. Try the armchair by the fire.
-- Unofficially,… well, I hardly know where to begin.
-- May I suggest that you "begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop."? As the King said to the rabbit….
-- Unofficially, we have been approached with an interesting offer. A gentleman of mysteriously vague name and antecedent has offered to sell us the Poignard of Cayden Cailean.
-- Isn't that one of the major relics you keep in the altar? Seen it myself. Why not sell you your own right hand?
-- Well, here's the difficult bit. A little over a century ago, there was a break-in at the church, and some of the altar furnishings were stolen. Naturally, the High Priest at the time didn't wish to make it known, and so
-- … the one I've seen every time I've attended services is a clever forgery.
-- Quite clever, and, I'm told, absolutely undetectable. But, naturally, we would like to recover the original if it could be done. But there's
-- … a bigger problem, which is how anyone would know of the theft in the first place. You may have already made a mistake by not sending the salesman packing. "Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?"
-- Have we? I feared as much.

The prelate stared for a few seconds into his drink.

Lord Bredon repeated himself.
-- So, how can I be of service to the Lucky God?
-- Well, your lordship is well known in social circles, and will not attract attention at the Feast.
-- So is Sir Reginald, Captain of the Archers.
-- Yes, but I,… that is to say, we,… we would like you to speak with this man. This dwarf, I should say. If he's just a common, vulgar reseller of stolen goods---
-- A fence?
-- My lord, I know not what thieves call other thieves. _If_, I say, he is just a common criminal, we will of course pay, and pay quietly. If there is a subtext, we wish to know it. We wish you to find it.

Two hours later, Lord Bredon stood at his mirror, talking over his shoulder with his valet.
-- … and I think I will want the Aeonarian stick with the concealed pistol. No reason to cause a fuss, but the criminal mind is unpredictable. I will also need the locket with the concealed Everburning Torch.
The valet nodded.
-- Very good, my lord. And the monocle as usual? And, forgive me, your cravat is too symmetrical. It makes you look too carefully dressed.
-- Is that better?
-- Perfect, my lord. That is to say, slightly askew.
-- Very well. If I'm not back by sunrise, inform the authorities. And feel free to go through my rooms for loose change.

[Design notes: Death is based pretty heavily on a classic hero of detection fiction, Lord Peter Wimsey, by Dorothy L. Sayers. He's an adventurer instead of a straight-up detective, and he's more heavily tied into the Academy than his inspiration -- and of course, Lord Peter wasn't a gnome.

I've tried to tie him pretty heavily into a conservative social environment typical of a lot of post-war aristocracies (and the British aristocracy "between the wars" in particular); depending upon what happens on the brink of the next war, a lot of traditions are going to change and the people currently comfortable with the way things are will probably dislike the new order that comes from it. There's two ways of dealing with this: one is to take an active part in shaping the new order, and the other is to hide and pretend it won't happen. Death prefers the first choice, his family and much of his social circle, the second. ]

It wasn't just that she didn't know what had happened to her, though thankfully she knew well enough who she was. It was that she didn't know her _current_ circumstances. Was she in danger? _Where_ was she? Shivering in her wet clothes (not the clothes of a peasant or a noble, but then what?), she padded on bare feet down the thoroughfare she had awakened on.

She had an answer to her most pressing concerns soon enough. People were beginning to fill the streets, and a kind soul answered her question with no more than a raised eyebrow at her appearance: she was in Aeonar, the mightiest of city-states. Not knowing what to do or where to go, she followed her growling belly to the market, hoping to steal a quick meal of something, anything.

Before long, priests robed in white and gold appeared, looking at everyone carefully. Raine felt the faint flutter of some memory, something unpleasant, but it didn't occur to her that they might be looking for her - until they spotted her. They shouted and ran towards her, and she did what came naturally - she ran. Still, she was barefoot and had no knowledge of the city, and it didn't take them long to capture her.

She was taken to their temple, told nothing of why they were after her or what they wanted; they didn't speak to her at all, instead speaking as though she couldn't understand them. Left tied in a cell, she only managed to gather that she had escaped their god's judgement, whatever that meant.

More lithe than they had expected, she slipped her bonds in the night and laid her guard out cold with the chamberpot. She crept through the temple, looking for a way out but only seeming to get deeper and deeper into the massive structure. Hiding in a sumptuous room from approaching voices, she overheard the head priest murmur something about "all the escaped penitents." Waiting until he had retired, she took the beautiful rifle that hung above and behind his desk, grabbed a handful of documents from his desk and his boots, and ran.

Somehow she knew she would never be safe in Aeonar. She fled to Valan in her stolen boots, offering to guard a stagecoach to get there. It was in Valan that she first met the resistance army, and the man who would become her lover. She met him on her third day in the city, while looking for a place to stay. He saw her draw away from the guards/priests on the street, and approached her with an offer of employment. He was a small-time crook, as it turned out, and a small fish in the resistance against the god-mages who ruled everywhere. Intrigued by their creed, Raine sought to join them rather than becoming a small-time crook herself. Much more reliable than he was, she rose to a position of trust within a few years, serving under a captain who gained her full trust. They ran guerilla missions to undermine the mage-kings/the priests who serve them.

She was never able to decipher the code of the documents she had stolen, but her lover always tried to help her with finding more. However, he ran afoul of the organized criminal world, and was caught for a crime that he insisted he had been framed for - but which Raine knew he had actually done. Speaking to her through the bars of his prison, he told her he wouldn't last long after crossing the syndicate. Contacting the crime boss, she tried to buy his freedom, but the boss, while courteous and genteel, was ruthless. He would forget about her lover's indiscretions - if she would help out the crime lord from time to time.

Having ensured her lover's continued life, if not his freedom, Raine is finding it difficult to serve two masters - while at the same time searching for the truth about who she is. Memories still haunt her, frustratingly out of reach, hinting at dangers and secrets.

PM to follow with the lowdown.

The dive was the sort of place you could (and should) keep a weapon on you, and she obviously knew it. There was a shortsword on her hip, and her rifle stood leaned against the bar, close at hand. Her companions were no exceptions; all of them were armed, some of them to the teeth. Whatever she and her friends had gathered to talk about, they didn't welcome intruders. They didn't try to get rid of them, exactly... they just leaned back, smiled pleasantly, and shot the breeze with inanities until whatever stranger had settled with them felt themselves unwelcome, and left. Then the group would lean over their table again, murmuring quietly once more. It wasn't that they gave anyone the cold shoulder; they just waited for the awkward silences to drive people off.

If anyone had informed this watcher that he was looking at an important branch of the Resistance Army, the watcher probably wouldn't believe it. They couldn't possibly dare meet in the open like this. And weren't they all crystal-chewing thugs anyway? Certainly not like these clean-shaven, polite and down-to-earth folks.

The wars were terrible and while th drow were "defeated" the elven empires had been broken apart and destroyed many of the bloodlines that governed them annilated. As punishment the Elven gods cursed the Drow to never again be able to wield divine magic and without their power the drow were hunted down by the elves. However ten thousand drow unknown to the elves had escaped into the "shade" a darker version of the prime, a place of woe, misery and pain.

The drow learned to adapt to the plane and discovered that just as the "shade" was a reflection of the prime so was their an equivelant of divine magic in it. Where as divine magic is driven by hope and faith, the "shade's" version of divine magic called by the drow "Nayshoon" (The reflection of that which is) is fueled by hatred and fear. So the drow took "Nayshoon" as their surrogate for divine magic and in just a few thousand years the "shade" has had become their dominion. The Drow now turn their festering hate and fury towards the Prime, for they wish to reclaim the power that is their birthright and will wage a war to achieve it...

While the plan by the Drow Emperor is to launch an assualt upon the prime in several centuries, ambitious souls from across the "shade" prepare themselves to visit the Prime and pave the way for conquest and achieve great power for themselves in the process. Nihilius, a minor "cleric" among the Drow has decided to go to the Prime itself and seize artifacts of the ancient Drow empire. With them he intends to boost his prestige in drow society, if he recovers a major artifact it might be enough to boost him to the heights of the Nobility...or even the Emperor's throne itself. His hatred and rage burn in his heart and Nihilius is ready to achieve the Drow birthright...