Peacock's page

Someone catching a glimpse of Peacock could be forgiven for thinking they've seen a human. A scrawny young lad of short stature, Adrian's figure is still that of a human, despite his transformation. That is, however, where the similarities end.

Peacock's skin is of a light blue tint, his skin traced with glittering markings. His hair, long and rather unkempt, is of a deep shade of Aqu. His irises are pale, icy, and strangely devoid of pupils. Completing the strange image, his ears are long and pointy, as those of many fey, and a true cloak of feathers extends off of his shoulders and down his back, bristling as a bird's wings as a shudder of nervousness rolls over the young lad.

Peacock's clothing could at first appear to be the remains of a young farmhand's clothing: Simple cotton trousers and an open leather vest, the undershirt having long been discarded. However, closer inspection reveals the clothing to have been modified rather than worn out. The undershirt discarded for more freedom, the trousers cut just below the knee for the same, the vest worn loosely over the shoulders with two wide slots cut open to allow wings some freedom. With the night's cold air no longer a problem to him as a fey, he has visibly opted for comfort and simplicity.

He carries very little in the way of possessions; a longbow slung over his shoulder, of amateur make, with the holy symbol of Erastil carved into its wood. A leather quiver on his back marked with the same, and a thick quilt blanket rolled up in a cotton sack. (The sack, upon close scrutiny, turns out to be an old undershirt.)

One boy, Adrien Fletcher, snoozed quietly, with not a concern in the world. In the safety of his home, he did not need to worry about the children at school shoving and pushing him for being the "weird runt". He did not need to worry about the strange empty blue eyes only he bore. He didn't need to worry about the concerns of his parents when the village folk looked at him as some alien being because of that distinctive sign.

In his sleep, he dreamt of songbirds.

He was on a forest trail, walking along a sparkling stream. The trees were lit as though it was day, and yet the sky showed nighttime and bright stars.

"I... I don't understand... What do you mean, when I find..."

He awoke with a start. All was dark around him. He reached for the oil lamp by his bed, but did not find it. His mattress was feeling rather hard, as well. He opened his eyes, sat up, and was met by a most confusing sight.

He wasn't at home. In fact, he wasn't at the village at all. He was at the edge of the woods, laying on the ground, in his everyday clothing and not his pajamas. Frightened and lost, he rushed home, only to trip almost immediately. As he rose and dusted himself up, he noticed blue feathers draped over his back. A cloak of them, in fact, each broad, long, and marked with a pattern of colors. The shock of the sight made them unfold into a pair of dazzling wings. Trying to make them flap as he may, however, Adrien found that he couldn't achieve any kind of flight with them.

"What happened to me?" he asked, walking back to the village. "Wasn't it a dream?"

Sneaking under the gate in his usual spot, Adrien began the walk home, smiling as he thought of the sweet aromas that would be wafting from the Baker's house as he would walk across; a simple pleasure that, for an instant, brought his mind back to reality.

That is, until that illusion, too, was shattered. As the scent of the day's bread reached him, Adrien's stomach lurched and he nearly fell to his knees. "... No. Not that too. Am I... Did I really become a fey?"

He caught sight of his reflection in a nearby puddle, to the light of the waxing moon. Though it was his face he saw, it was different. So very different. His skin had turned a dazzling shade of blue, and glittering markings extended over his cheek and his once chestnut brown hair had turned a deep shade of aqua. His ears were long and pointy, those of the creatures of the woods.

His hands trembled. His lip quived. Adrien began to cry. "No! No! It can't be true!"

Alerted by the noise, the villagers lit their porches, and before long, he was surrounded.

"You shouldn't be here, kind one."

"Why is this beautiful creature in our village? Has it come for our children?"

"Why are the woods gracing us with this one's presence now?"

Adrien knew such sayings. One should never speak of the fey in harsh terms, but their expressions told all. They hated him, they feared him.

"No! Please!" He pleaded, as the men brandished blades of cold iron. "It's me! Adrien! Don't you recognize me?"

And then, at once, he heard that voice. His father. "... No. Not him. Not my son. They took you away..."

"Father! No! It's me! Your son! Adrien! I swear!"

"Liar!" Adrian's father roared, raising his longsword in the air. "You are no son of mine!"

The villagers gaped in horror as the man threatened one of the fey.

"You're a monster! Return my son to me at once!"

"W-why won't you believe me? It's me! Father, please! I beg of you!" Adrien gazed in his father's eyes, and found nothing but hate and rage. He looked to the door of his home, and there stood his mother, crestfallen and horrified.

"It was the eyes, Fletcher! We warned you about the eyes! They'd marked him, and now they took him back and sent this one to taunt us!"

"That's enough of these blasted fey! I think it's about time we took the war to them!"

With a mob in pursuit, armed with torches and iron, Adrien had no choice but to flee into the woods.

They... they didn't believe me. I'm just a monster to them.

Tell me, my son. Has it ever been so different? Were you not "Adrien the Runt" or "The child with the strange eyes"?

Adrien disappeared into the woods, lost and unsure of where to go. The village had been his entire life. Now, where was he to go?

As he ventured into the dark boughs, however, he found that he felt no fear. As he walked, the birds awoke and sang their melodies for him. They sang for Peacock.

Adrien recalled the glowing mushrooms and the bright feathers of his mother. He recalled the other fey that looked upon him. He recalled the strange familliarity.

Perhaps... could it be that Peacock was who he was meant to be?

Without thinking, Peacock snapped his fingers and lights appeared around him, lighting the path before him.

He smiled as he saw what stood there. A patch of bright pink thistle.

Go forth and find yourself...

• Eschew Materials
  
• Improved Initiative (+4 init)
  
• Weapon Proficiency (Longbow)
  

• Reactionary (+2 init)
  
• Slippery (+1 to stealth, stealth is a class skill)

• Low-Light Vision
  
• +4 to saves vs. Mind Affecting
  
• Resist cold and electricity 10
  
• DR 5/Cold Iron
  
• Camouflage (Ex) : A fey creature can use Stealth to hide in any sort of natural terrain, even if the terrain does not grant cover or concealment. It gains a +4 racial bonus on Stealth checks. This bonus does not stack with any racial Stealth bonus possessed by the base creature.
  
• Spell-Like Abilities (1/day, CL 3rd unless otherwise stated) : Dancing Lights (3/day), Faerie Fire, Entangle, Faerie Fire

• Bloodline Arcana: Whenever you cast a spell of the compulsion subschool, increase the spell's DC by +2.
  
• Laughing Touch (Sp): At 1st level, you can cause a creature to burst out laughing for 1 round as a melee touch attack. A laughing creature can only take a move action but can defend itself normally. Once a creature has been affected by laughing touch, it is immune to its effects for 24 hours. You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Charisma modifier. This is a mind-affecting effect.
  
• Woodland Stride (Ex): At 3rd level, you can move through any sort of undergrowth (such as natural thorns, briars, overgrown areas, and similar terrain) at your normal speed and without taking damage or suffering any other impairment. Thorns, briars, and overgrown areas that have been magically manipulated to impede motion, however, still affect you.

• Bluff +10 (+14 to hide aggressive actions)
  
• Stealth +14, can hide in any natural terrain, even without cover/concealment
  
• Fly +13
  
• Spellcraft +7
  
• Craft (Bows) +7