Wolfgang von Goethe's page

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Male Human Warlock 1
NE M Human
Init +0; Proficiency: +2 Perception +
-------------------------------=DEFENSE=-------------------------------
AC: 13 (+1 armor, +2 Dex),
HP: 10 {+d8,+2Con}/lvl

Charisma +5,{+2Base,+3Cha}
Will: +3,{+2Base,+1Wis}

-------------------------------=OFFENSE=-------------------------------
Speed: 30 ft.

Base Atk: +2
Melee:+1{+2Base,-1Str}
Ranged:+5{+2Base,+3Dex}

--Melee:+1

--Ranged:+5

-------------------------------=STATISTICS=-------------------------------
Str: 9, Dex: 15, Con: 14, Int: 13, Wis: 11, Cha: 16

-------------------------=Traits=----------------------
Background: Noble
History, Persuasion

Feature: Po s i t i o n of P r i v i l e g e

Thanks to your noble birth, people are inclined to think the best of you. You are welcome in high society, and people assume you have the right to be wherever you are. The com m on folk make every effort to accommodate you and avoid your displeasure, and other people of high birth treat you as a member of the same social sphere. You can secure an audience with a local noble if you need to.
.

Trait: I'm manic-depressive. If I think that I'll be critical in a situation, I'll fill the volume of the room, but at the first hint of uselessness, I'll deflate until invisible.

Ideal: Knowledge. The path to power and self-improvement
is through knowledge. (Neutral)

Bond: I have an ancient text that holds terrible secrets that
must not fall into the wrong hands. ('Cultes Des Ghoules')

Flaw: I overlook obvious solutions in favor of complicated
ones.

----------------=Drawbacks=-----------------
---
----------------=Race Traits=-------------------

Normal Speed

--------------=Feats=-----------------

---------------=Skills=- (0 points; 0 class, 0 INT)---------------

Saving Throws: Wisdom, Charisma
Skills: Intimidation, Deception,
Background skills: History, Persuasion

ACP

-=Non-Standard Skill Bonuses=-

-=Languages=- Common and Orc, Dwarf, Goblin.

Prof: Light armor, simple weapons

The Great Old One

--Awakened Mind: Telepathy 30'

[at 2nd level:]INVOCATIONS::

1)Agonizing Blast: Add +Cha to EB Damage

2) Fiendish Vigor
You can cast false life on yourself at will as a
1st-level spell, without expending a spell slot or
material components.
(d4+4)
-------------------------------=SPECIAL/CLASS ABILITIES=-------------------------------

-------------------------------=Spells=-------------------------------
Spell Slots: 1--1st

Spells:
0)[2]
-Eldrich Blast; 120 ft, 1 action, 1d10 Force +3
-True strike, 30 ft, Conc, 1 action, next turn at advantage

1st:
--Hex {Concentration:1 hour. Bonus Action} [+1d6 when I hit with attack. AND disadvantage on one chosen ability type.] (when target dies, may use bonus action on next round to continue on new target)
--Hellish Rebuke[Reaction: If damaged, target hit for 2d10;DX for half. +1d10 every lvl after 1st.] )

2nd())

3rd())

((wantL 0: blade ward. 1st: Tasha's hideous laughter --Hellish Rebuke[Reaction: If damaged, target hit for 2d10;DX for half. +1d10 every lvl after 1st.] --armor of Agathys (1hr. +5 hp; When hit, and I have these hp, creature takes 5 hp))

-----------------------------=0th (at will)=--------------------------------

------------------------------=1st (0/day)=------------------------------

-------------------------------=GEAR/POSSESSIONS=-------------------------- -----
Scholar's Outfit (0 lb.)
Leather Armor (10lbs) (11+Dx)
comp pouch (2lb)

club(2lb)
2 daggers(2lb)
Spear (d6, versatile)(3lb)

A set of fine clothes,
a signet ring,
a scroll of pedigree

[19lb]

Dungeoneer's pack:
backpack, (5lb)

1 lamp, (1lb)
3 flasks Oil, (3lb)
a tinderbox, (1lb)
10 days of rations, (20lb)
and a waterskin (5lb-full)

10 candles, 10 pieces chalk, signal whistle, 5 bars soap (0lb)

Talisman of Feather Fall

a heavy enough purse,
official identification papers,
and two rabbit feet (talismen of fether fall-probably)

[35lb]

[total=54 lbs]

-=Carrying Capacity=-
Light-5x str 0-55 lb. Medium-10xStr 36-110 lb. Heavy 111lb+ lb.
-=Current Load Carried=- 55 lb.

-=Money=- 0 PP 28 GP 5 SP 5 CP

Wolfgang raised his hand, and prepared to murder his son.

"I'm sorry, sir. This is how we found her."
Wolfgang looked down at the still corpse that had once been his youngest daughter. He -knew- she shouldn't have gotten involved with that boy, but he thought to let out the tether, see if she could realize the mistake on her own.

Apparently he was wrong.

He nodded his thanks at the constable and made his way to the Building of State. His position as Banister gave him access to the Restricted books. He knew that there his answers lay.

Wolfgang strode down the street, his quarry in his sights. The man he followed was heavily inebriated, Wolfgang had seen to that. He'd met the man at a wineshop he was known to favor. Feigning ignorance, and the friendship of a stranger, he'd bought the man wine, spirits, absinth, anything he wanted. After a long night and the lightening of a purse's coin, the man left and Wolfgang shook his hand, saying good night.

But the night would be far from good.

The man passed the alley, and Wolfgang bowled into him, pushed him into the gang of toughs he'd hired for brief work. The man's mouth was stuffed and his limbs trussed. He was carried stealthily to the cheap hotel, all the rooms rented but empty, again Wolfgang's work, the Innkeeper well-bribed to make the building scarce this night.

The man was shackled to a strong bed-post.

"And now, Mr. Schiller, we will discuss your relationship with my late daughter, and how it was you were last seen with her."

He bade the man's gag removed, and a scarred tough did so.

"'Twasn't me, your Grace! 'Twas Curwen! Joseph Curwen! He ordered me bring the girl to her! I swears it! I did'na mean 'er no harm! I--"

"Silence! You will tell me how to find this...Curwen."

"No! NO no NO! You don't, you don't know what he'll do to me! I can't--"

"Beseems your priorities bear some...re-analysis. -WE- are here. You should worry upper-most about US. Perhaps we need to apply greater persuasion?"

"No! Okay, I tells ya, I tells ya. He's in the Old Grist-mill. The one astride East River!"

Wolfgang stroked his chin. "Mmmm. Yes, I know it. Long has it been abandoned. Very good. You've done well. Kill him."

"No! No, wait, I...I know his secret! He don't know I knows it, but...but I heard him once say the source of his power was in this book. It's...it's restricted, but...but ya can get's to it, ya? He...he said it were the 'Cult De Gools' or somesuch."

He nodded. "Yes. I've not yet read it, for even the old librarian shudder when I glanced upon the back-spine. The proper name is 'Cultes Des Ghoules' and it lays with a thick coat of dust upon it. That would...that would make a kind of sense. Yes, I--"

Wolfgang's voice was cut off as Mr. Shiller started screaming with a voice unlike this world. "NO! NO! Joseph, I didn't, I swears I--," the room was filled with an unearthly baying of ephemeral wolves and lit with a horrible blue light. Shiller's voice was cut off as his body levitated a few inches above the bed he was chained, and his head, of its own volition, bent back upon his spine, and loud CRACK was heard. The man stopped his screaming and the body bounced down upon the bed and the room once again was quiet and still. Chiller's neck laying at an angle no living man could manage.

The young toughs climbed over themselves in a mad dash to leave the room. Their concerns were of the flesh, either stabbing it or pouring things into it, and this was beyond their liking.

Wolfgang would study this book, and find Mr. Curwen's weakness. The book was not large. In two weeks this would be done.

"Father, it's been a year. Time to come home now."

'Has it...has it been a year? I year I've been here? With only this one book? One book has captured my attention this long. Oh, but I've learned so MUCH! Secrets undreamed are now mine to command! The veil, this...this veil OF A veil that hath lain over mine eyes for...for ever. For so long, it has been lifted. Oh, if my son if you could but see the world as I do now! If you could but....

...but no. He would not. None that did not know my grief as deeply would bear even a single page. None but ME could glean even a hundredth-weight of what I now...no, I ..I need more time. Just a...just a little. A little more time.'

"Just a little more time, my son. Wiemar, go and tell your mother I just...I just need a little more time."

The young man nodded, and took his leave.

Where did it all go wrong?

This morning he left the library. At last secure that, though he did grasp the least bit of insight gleaned from the book, he at last knew enough to challenge Joseph Curwen. The man that...what? He did...something. Something important. He...took his daughter? No, that, that makes no sense. Someone...something. Stop. It was all...confusing. Must focus. Now is NOT the time to doubt.

He entered the old grist-mill. Joseph was there. In the large main room, bare of ornamentation, save for a desk and a chair, dwarfed in size by the main chamber of the mill naked of machinery. Curwen sat behind the desk, reading a book cased on the blackest of bindings.

"Good evening, Herr Wolfgang Von Goethe. You are...early."

"How did you..."

"I see you. I have watched you. For a thousand years I have watched you. A thousand others have watched you, and they are those that command me. You think yourself learned for piercing the first page of Cultes, but that is but a novice's guide. A child's plaything to True Power.

Would you like that? The power to understand. The power to kill. The power to...bring her back?"

"I already have the power to kill. Sturmgeweher!"

A translucent bolt of green energy loosed from his hands. Joseph caught it as though it were a baseball.

"Yes, the Eldrich Bolt," Curwen smiled, unharmed. Pleased. "It is the first of the Secrets. Not even worthy of an entry to a Circle. You have much to learn. And I have much to teach. Now. Shall we begin?"

"I...I...Y--"

"It's time to come home, Father."

Wolfgang spun to see his son enter the door of the mill. "You have been gone too long, Father. Come home with me."

"NO!" the primordial scream was ripped from his lips. So close! So close to...to...to his goal, of.... He couldn't remember. But it...it was important.

Curwen smiled. "An excellent first lesson. Kill the boy, and you will be ready."

Wolfgang raised his hand, and prepared to murder his son.

"I...I can not."

He lowered his hand. And left.

Joseph Curwen smiled.

Wolfgang walked the streets of the strange city. He didn't know what he was looking for.

But he would know when he found it.

The book rode easily by his side.