About Trazzle, The Shatterproof WitTrazzle Glimmerfang : The Shatterproof Wit; The Prince of Shenanigans; The Broad-Sleeved Rascal Regular stats includes Eternal Potion Haste. Stats in parentheses represent the effect of Trazzle's favored mutagen enhancement: +6 dex, +4 con Male Goblin Witch/Alchemist (Trap Breaker) 17, Tier 3 Dual Path Archmage/Trickster
Statistics:
Str 8; Dex 26 (32); Con 14 (18); Int 34; Wis 20 (18); Cha 8 (6) Feats
Traits
Class Features Hexes:
Discoveries:
Mythic Power:
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Spells, extracts, consumables, and special abilities
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Skills:
Trained Skills: (4 + 9 int + 1 favored class = 14)
Skills from « Thinking Cap »
Concentration Checks: +31 Spoken Languages: Common, Goblin, Draconic, Gnoll, Orc, Gnome
------- Equipment ------- Equipment:
Clever Coat: Legendary Item (Body Slot)
Surge: d6, Str, Dex skill checks, Con checks. 2 per day. -------
History:
== The Rise of Trazzle Glimmerfang == From the day he was born, all knew that Trazzle Glimmerfang was gifted. He had the shiniest, sharpest fangs his tribe had ever seen. As it turns out, he was also pretty clever. He was a member of the Wyrmtaunter clan, known to be one of the more dangerous goblin tribes. Their claim to fame? They were nomads who went on deranged raids aiming to steal the hoards of dragons. Whether through subterfuge or suicidal assaults, the Wyrmtaunters' thirst for gold was unquenchable, and they would frequently raid the lairs of dragons. Though this attracted the fury of the great scaled ones, the Wyrmtaunters had two advantages. First, they were very, very prolific. Though many a warrior would perish during their raids, a ferocious new one would grow to take his place. Second, the individuals who survived raids became quite threatening foes in their own right. Thanks to their looted magical relics, strange magics, and grand hoards of explosives and other dangerous substances, their villages were safe from attacking dragons; though some had tried, they had found themselves faced with arrays of siege weapons and squads of shamans. The Wyrmtaunters were truly a force to be reckoned with. Trazzle was not the strongest of his peers, and he was not the sturdiest. What he was, however, was inventive. Amongst the smartest of his peers, some would train with the hex-throwers, who bonded with the magical world and laid waste to the enemies of the Wyrmtaunters with hexes and curses, while others favored the teachings of the blast-makers, who gathered strange plants and minerals, mixing components to fabricate explosives, tonics, and other strange concoctions. Seeing much value in both domains, and finding himself taking easily to both, Trazzle underwent both trainings. He would become the third member of the tribe to ever master both, his only precursors being the current chieftain, and the tribe's founding father, Daggle Wyrmtaunter. Trazzle's inventiveness and quick thinking quickly brought him to the chieftain's attention. He proved to be very resourceful during their raids, often pulling something unexpected to save the day, or at least a few more of their companions. He rose through the ranks, soon becoming one of the chieftain's most trusted generals. He would lead a squad all to his own, a sign of the leader's trust in his abilities. One fateful day, tragedy struck as the goblins snuck into a dragon broodmother's lair. The chieftain's primary advisor and strategist, sick and aging, but still combat-worthy, coughed at the wrong moment, alerting the attention of a wyrmling and getting his head chomped off for his troubles. The three squads involved soon began panicking, until Trazzle took command, guiding his two fellow squad leaders and the assembled masses through a tight passage the mother couldn't hope to catch them through. Though many perished, the losses were minimal compared to the eradication one could have expected. In recognition of this great accomplishment, the chieftain made Trazzle his new right-hand man, a job which he fulfilled quite well. As the years went by, Trazzle enjoyed glory only second to the chieftain's own. There were some times where he toyed with the idea of trying to claim the tribe for himself. The chieftain was a proud warrior and a great speaker, but in some way, not the brightest gem in the chest. In the end, however, Trazzle never truly considered usurping his leader. The chieftain was a proud goblin and treated his subordinates well. His influence had made Trazzle who he was today, and he owed the old gobbe at least that much. == The Frost Empress Sveradericka == Even the mightiest of warriors cannot hope to fight time itself. As Trazzle entered his prime years, the chief left his. It was not long before age sought to claim the chief, who chose to go out as his predecessors had: He would lead a final glorious raid, targeting the oldest dragon of the nation; the White Great Wyrm Dragoness known as Frost Empress Sveradericka. A week before they departed to confront Sveraderika in her frost-bound lair, the chieftain announced that he had chosen his successor. Trazzle, having been the chieftain's right-hand goblin for a half-dozen years, was a shoe-in for the role. As the raid began, he would lead the squads through the raid. Meanwhile, the former chieftain, shielded with the greatest wards the hex-throwers could muster, gorged on the blast-makers' elixirs, and armed with his long-treasured dragon-bane longsword Blazeheart, would engage Sveraderika in combat, distracting her from the invasion of her lair. The raid went every bit as well as they could have hoped for. To the surprise of all, the chieftain's final battle was not the glorious stand they would have expected, but a true clash of the dragon's frost and the chief's blazing defiance. Though the dragoness slew the chieftain, she only did so after he had struck her with a mortal blow of his own. As Trazzle and his followers braved the dangers of the icy lair and the dragoness's minions to claim her hoard, the dragoness lay, slowly dying. Or, at least, that was what he thought as the power of legend began flowing through him... A few weeks later, the night found the Wyrmtaunters having set up camp within a network of caves lurking beneath the northern forest. Still riding the success of the former chieftain's glorious funerary raid, they had claimed the hoards of several much lesser dragons in the last few days, and had now hidden to rest for a time. The warriors were content but tired, and well overdue for a few days of basking in their riches. Little did they know that a dangerous foe had been trailing them for a long time: The deity of evil dragons, some would say, had not taken well to one of her children being slain by such pathetic creatures as goblins. Sveraderika had been brought back to life, and tasked with setting things right: she was to find the Wyrmtaunters' current chieftain, and devour him. Thus was the quest her deity had given her, and it was one she was quite keen on accomplishing: Had she been revived without condition, she would have sought nothing but the same. The dragoness tracked the goblins through scent and scrying, and that day found her tearing their lair of fortune open as though the dirt and stone had been naught but a cheap straw roof. She furiously bellowed for Trazzle to reveal himself and engage her in combat. He knew that, unlike the old chief, he had no chance of opposing her directly. Not yet. He could easily guess that she would wipe the entire tribe after slaying him, just for the sake of revenge. There was only one solution. Trazzle emerged from the cave and taunted the dragoness, claiming that she stood no chance of catching him. When she lunged for him, he vanished. She was strong, and her broad wings could carry her for miles on end, true, but he was clever and resourceful. If she wanted to get him, she would have to look for him. By the time she next found trace of him, the Wyrmtaunters were far gone, and so was he. Only, not in the same direction. A whole tribe could not hope to elude a dragoness. One goblin could, and particularly so when the blood of mythic heroes graced him a second time. == The Fey Queen Bristleshine == Trazzle would soon find himself in great peril: Injured over the course of a perilous adventure, he had taken refuge in a forest, hoping to evade detection until he could tend to his wounds. However, fate would not be so kind. An icy wind awoke him in the dark of the night, and before he knew what was happening, a deafening roar shook the forest. He could only barely dive out of the way as a blast of frost froze his clearing under a layer of ice. Frostbitten and exhausted, he ran as quickly as he could, driven by adrenalin and the kind of fear he had not felt in a long time. By the time he was fully conscious of his location again, having collapsed in exhaustion, he found that he did not recognize the woods around him. "Welcome," a voice called out to him. When he arose and made inventory of his surroundings, he found the grassy clearing he had collapsed in gone, and in its place, a brilliant lake reflecting the full moon, extending every which way. By some strange magic, he was standing on the surface. By that same strange magic, it seemed the forest still stood in this bizarre place: they were solidly rooted in the water. "Beautiful, isn't it?" an elegant figure appeared by him. Trazzle was introduced to Queen Bristleshine of the Moonlake Court, one of Faraenyl's many royals. She and her subjects had taken much interest in his adventures and his multiple encounters with the Frost Empress. Their court and the Queen had much history in common: A past enmity only ended when the court fled their chosen land in the Material plane and returned to Faraenyl to flee the creeping cold that the Empress had brought with herself in conquest. To spite the empress, the Moonlake Court offered to harbor Trazzle, treat his wound, and teach him some tricks of their own, so that he may evade the Empress with greater ease. In exchange, he promised that he would defeat the dragoness when the time was right, and that, if it ever was in his power, he would restore their homeland. When Trazzle returned to the Material Plane, rested and ready to brave his next journey, he found that an unexpected guest had tagged along with him. The inquisitive young sprite known as Nocturne had taken great curiosity in him and his skills. She asked to join him in his journey, and he agreed to let her tag along. With her help, he pursued some study of the magic of the fey, adding it to his repertoire of hexes. == The Unicorn == Another night again found the goblin camping in thick woodlands bordering a small rural village. Having narrowly survived an encounter with a pack of dire wolved, he was exhausted and wounded. The passing days had been rough; Sveraderika was onto him, and he knew she watched the region like a hawk. He had exhausted his supplies and his magic. Truly, he had needed a miracle to get out of this one, and as luck would have it, a miracle he had gotten. Some time ago, Nocturne had set off to try and find some food for Trazzle and herself, knowing the goblin exhausted. Instead, she had returned with a friend. Curious, as the young unicorn stallion had introduced himself, was one of many fey inhabitants of these woods. A friend to the local fey, themselves allies of the Moonlake, Curious welcomed a fellow friend of the fey with open hooves, applying some of his natural magic to easing Trazzle’s wounds. Thankful for the unicorn’s help, and seeing that the stallion already bore a few jeweled amulets and other such curiosities woven into his mane, Trazzle offered him a jeweled brooch he had found in the haunted ruins of an abandoned fort. Delighted, Curious offered to take Trazzle across the wide forest, throwing Sveraderika off his track entirely.
== The Craftsman == As he wandered a crowded city one day, his pockets full of gold and his heart full of curiosity, the Broad-Sleeved Rascal came face to face with a bizarre amalgam of man and machine, proffering the values similarly unusual technologies to local merchants. Intrigued by those strange items, Trazzle approached the man, who introduced himself as Thirrian Veldon, an innovator and inventor. The two men found that they shared the passion of tinkering, though their mediums were quite different. Where Thirrian believed in the science of metal powered by steam and fire, Trazzle’s aptitudes were in the bizarre art of goblin hexing, and the incomprehensible reagents of alchemy.
For a long time, Trazzle had lamented his arts having little permanency. His hexes were great for combat, and his bombs were quite volatile, but other than potions, which were quickly drunk and forgotten, his was an ephemeral art. Learning of this, Thirrien explained that he had met quite a few enchanters in his time; spellcasters who infused their magic into items. One who bore such a item would be bestowed its powers. This greatly intrigued Trazzle, and together, the two men sought to crack this puzzle. For some weeks, they tinkered, Thirrian’s creative mind and Trazzle’s rapid leaps of logic working as one in brainstorms worthy of the greatest windcallers of the great druid collectives. After weeks, the puzzle was finally cracked, when Trazzle found his backpack much larger inside than out, against all logic. With the puzzle tracked and the threat of Trazzle’s great foe looming upon them, the two tinkerers eventually parted ways, each leaving with a gift : Trazzle had learned the art of enchanting objects with his bizarre hexes and charms; Thirrian, in returned, found himself gifted with a satchel rife with goblin-brewed potions of all kinds, and having learned quite a bit about the goblin’s strange hexes. As they parted ways, Thirrien called out to Trazzle one last time, promising to help Trazzle when the time would come for him to face his greatest foe. The Puzzle It was late fall, and Trazzle was seeking a national marvel: the Monument of Opus. According to the locals, it was a temple dedicated not to any deity, but to the passion for craftsmanship and art; a museum of museums. Fascinated by this idea, Trazzle sought the illustrious place, and eventually found it, thought it was in an odd state. The Monument of Opus, he learned from its expropriated artists, had been taken over by an evil spirit of tremendous power. The corrupted soul of a mad poet, infuriated that he had never achieved fame, had taken posession of the Monument itself, bringing the pieces within to life and lashing out at any visitors. Familliar with his reputation, the order of artisan monks which normally held the Monument implored the Shatterproof Wit to rid them of this evil spirit, that they may reclaim their temple and their lives at last. Eager to face a foe the likes of which he had never met, Trazzle agreed in no time, though not without securing the promise of a reward. His encounter with the specter was fierce and drawn out; the Monument itself opposed him, its corridors twisted into impossible arrangements by the bizarre forces at work, and its many statues and paintings coming to life to strike at him. Still, in the end, The Broad Sleeved Rascal bested his foe. Though neither a blade or a spell could have truly dealt with the phantom, wit had triumphed when Trazzle had brought to the spirit's attention that, to many, the incredible charms he had worked on the Monument and his magical creations would appear to be wonderful works of art, and that he could still be the artist he so aspired to be. His work done and his reward claimed, Trazzle bid farewell to the admiring artists, once more taking the road. For the third time in his life, the power of legend had risen within himself. The artists of the monument decided to honor the memory of his deed with a particular work of art. Remembering that he had expressed particular appreciation for the stained glass that decorated the Monument's front, they decided to build a sculpture from the same materials, dedicating the work to the monument's savior. They toiled relentlessly for three days to make the statue the best they could, a tall and dazzling figure of colorful glass. When they arose on the dawn of the fourth day, to admire their completed work, it had walked away, leaving a note of apology. "I hope you will not be offended that I wish to present your work to the world. I have been taught the value of my art, and I wish to express it. Better late than never, so they say." == The Rascal's Destiny == Through the trials and tribulations, a once humble goblin rose to be an exceptional hero. Little did the hero know, however, that his destiny was only beginning...
Appearance:
Trazzle is a young adult male goblin exuding smugness and confidence. The spark of awareness shines in his eyes, and his posture is straight and limber, visibly placing more weight on his toes than his heels. He seems very alert and attentive, despite what seems to be just a trace of intoxication. He possesses the earthy tan skin characteristic of his tribe, the Wyrmtaunters, as well as their wide, broad ears, comparable to those of mice and rats. (All the better to hear a dragon's wings from miles away, they boast.) He wears an old leather coat traveler's cloak, fitted to be fitting, if ample, to his size, with the stripped and cleaned skull of a tropical bird strung to its fastening strings. He is pridefully crowned with a makeshift cap of pale leather, which extends down to the top of his shoulders; his 'thinking hat', he calls it. A shabby backpack is slung over his shoulders, and a crude leather pouch is fastened to it. To the untrained eye, he wears the clothing of a wandering goblin of some importance, perhaps the second-in-command of a tribe. He bears some simple weaponry: A shiny dagger and a well-crafted light crossbow, most likely looted from a halfling sentry. A series of strange satchels hang from his belt; their contents are a mystery.
Domains: Knowledge, Liberation, Luck, Travel, Trickery, Portfolio: The legend of the Broad-Sleeved Rascal extends far and wide. Explorers, thieves, treasure hunters, wanderers and other rascals revere him as an example to follow, and numerous goblins see him as a symbol of how they can be more than mere tribal grunts and pillagers. He stands for freedom and exploration, seeking the unknown and relishing in new discoveries and adventures. He also stands for quick wit and ruse, for keeping your sleeves full of tricks. Just as you should seek the unknown, you should be prepared to face it and never be caught off-guard. Relic: The Clever Coat is Trazzle's long time travel companion, an old-looking faded leather coat. Fashioned for him by one of his tribe's artisans in preparation for the raid on the icy lair of the Frost Empress Sveraderika, this leather coat would spend many years draped over Trazzle's shoulders. Absorbing uncountable instances of residual magic and alchemical splatter, it is now animate with its master's wit. Realm:
Hidden deeply within Faraenyl lurks The Rascal's Marble, a realm of unexpectedly small size. Travelers to the realm would find themselves standing an orb of glass tinted with intricate patterns, approximately four hundred feet in diameter. In every direction away from the center, a deep night sky twinkling with stars. A hollow crystalline moon orbits the central orb, mirroring the Material Plane's own. A deep burgundy liquid sloshes within; perhaps ale, perhaps wine. As the summer hits its solstice in the Material Realm, the moon is at full capacity. Upon the equinox, it is dry and empty.
Fascinating landscapes are known to appear on the Marble's surface. Small thickets of glass-blown trees, their branches swarming with animate knicknacks in the image of birds and mammals. Crystalline caverns winding into the depths of the orb, oftentimes leading to depths which should, by all logic, have emerged on the opposed surface, but which do not. Streams of limpid water or, on occasion, fruity nectars. At least one traveler reports encountering a small lake filled with mead. A few have tried taking a pickaxe to its surface, hoping to claim a piece of its fabled crystal. None have succeeded, their finest tools crumpling and splintering against the surface; even adamantine merely bounces off without effect. Though it is never seen changing, the land appears to vary its sights on a whim of its own when unobserved. It is not hostile to travelers, though some have reported frustrations at small waterfalls suddenly drenching them from above, or long grasses, which had not been present moments before, rising to tickle their arms and necks. Favored Servitors: Some fey of Faraenyl revere the Shatterproof Wit, for his freegoing nature and his pursuit of freedom. His first bond to the fey world was with the Moonlake Court, and they, more than others, revere him as a friend and great ally, for his promise to rid them of their long-time foe. When Trazzle ascends, many more are likely to join in this reverence. Herald and Followers of Note:
Flitterwisp : The herald of the Shatterproof Wit, Flitterwisp appears in the form of a large shimmering hummingbird. The sight of its flowing colors is dazzling, and its wings thrum with invigorating echoes of unforgettable melodies. Queen Bristleshine : The queen of the Moonlake fey court is a friend of the Broad-Sleeved Rascal. They share a common enemy in the Frost Empress Sveraderika, and through that link, a fierce complicity has grown between the two kindred spirits. The Puzzle : This bizarre golem, made entirely of stained glass, was crafted as a project of curiosity by a group of artificers who traveled for a few days with the Shatterproof Wit. It wanders aimlessly across the roads of the world, exchanging curiosities, poems, and puzzles with like-minded travelers who enjoy matching wits. It often appears to those low on their luck and seeking a new path in life; its words are said to bring great inspiration. Curious : This Fey-Touched unicorn stallion, embodying Trazzle's belief in fortune and good luck, is known to sneak up on injured travelers and heal them in their sleep, stealing trinkets of little values from their belongings as a souvenir, and leaving a strand of its colorful mane in thanks. Rumors claim that necklaces strung from such gifts confer great luck to travelers. Those who cross his path during the day would recognize him to the distinctive jingling of the many curios woven into his bright mane.
Sefira: Chokhmah (Epiphany): Knowledge is good, but it cannot save your rear end alone. True power comes from cleverness and quick thought. |
