Topic awaiting preservation: D&D story (Page 1 of 1)

Just feel the need because . . . just because.

Many moons ago, we played in Undermountain. After some months, we decided to start a new champaign on the surface.

The place that we were starting out at was on the brink of war. So, one guy rolled up a priest that worshipped the God of War. To compliment him, I rolled up a guy that worshipped the God of the Hunt. Malici the Angry Half-Elf was born.

Malici was an only child born to a human mother in a human community. Her husband had been killed during an orc raid and she got pregnant by an elven warrior that was part of a troupe going after the orcs. Malici was a half-elf with no father in a human community.

He hated humans because of the ridicule he had been subjected to. He hated elven males because they raped human women. Most importantly, he hated his own mother.

He had spent most of his childhood in the woods just wandering around looking for who-knows-what. For the most part, he just liked being alone in the woods. He eventually met a priest of Malar. This priest taught Malici how to track and hunt. Malici decided to become a part of the Malar priesthood.

During his initiation, Malici went home, killed his mother most brutally, and buried her under the floorboards. She was his first victim using claws of Malar, weapon of choice for his faith.

Now a part of the coven, he was ready to begin a new life as an adventurer. He hooked up with another priest (of war), a few others, and they left town.

As a party, we had wandered around with no real long-term goal. We picked up a few odd jobs and just wandered around. We became rather proficient at acquisition and assassinations. Guarding caravans was for wimps - we were professional mercs.

(This style of champaign and characters was a welcome change from playing stereo-typical goody-two-shoes.)

Malici eventually became party leader. Led the party with strength and intimidation.

Mostly strength and intimidation as this eventually exposed Malici's weakness. His weakness being a buried streak of niceness. If you crossed him and/or the party, he would give the options to straighten up, leave the party, or die. Normally such a party leader would kill such insurgents, but he gave options to live.

Eventually, his weakness was seriously exposed by a tribe of primitives. The party came across a tribe of primitives that were being hunted down by several factions. Malici declared them his people and he led them to their own promised land, an island where they could hunt fauna in peace and in accordance with Malar's will.

At that time, Malici's life was going very well. He had his own tribe of people. He was the leader of a damn fine group of mercs. He was respected by some, feared by most. What more could and angry little half-elf ask for?

The chieftain was a good man and a shaman had been appointed to minster the tribe in my absence. When it was finally time to leave the island, the fit hit the shan.

Three party members got stupid and had to die. While leaving on a raft, my bud got eaten by sharks and I got eaten by barracuda. It was a helluva fight.

Malici's soul went to the Fuge, the waiting room for the dead.

Time for a new party.

This time around I was playing a triple-classed elven male named Al. One of the other guys was playing a male elven fighter named Zsordrin Black. We were good little elves that kicked some ass.

Al's character was centered around the idea of wind. In and out like the wind. Zsordrin was a typical fighter with "I'll cut you from crotch to crown!" for a battle cry. We had some pretty epic battles and made some very powerful enemies along the way.

In one adventure, we broke a Tablet of Fate in desperation and got turned into females. He got turned back, but I decided to stay female.

Al found out about a dead god named Shaundical, whose ethos was also centered around wind. Al ressurected the religion and Shaundical in the process.

Somehow we ended up in Ravenloft. Al just happened to be pregnant at the time by a handsome elven warrior. Like an idiot, Al casted Haste and gave birth on the spot. A beautiful daughter named Corey. The suck part is that Corey was kidnapped by the lord of the land and we had to leave her behind. Damn, that sucked.

After Ravenloft, while doing some plane-hopping, Al, Zsordrin, and a few others visited the Fuge. Malici's soul was pulled from the Fuge and he was ressurected as a shadow.

Shortly after that and an epic battle against the hordes, Shaundical appeared, married Al, and made her his avatar. Al had become one powerful bitch . . . with a past coming back to haunt her.

Corey had grown up in Ravenloft and was raised by an evil lord. Corey became an evil druid and was eventually cursed to rule her own land. One of her powers was to posses my body across space and time. As it turns out, we both had a share in the cursed land. Her hatred for me had cursed her, and me leaving her there had cursed me. We both had an equal share in the curse and the land. She was doomed to trying to get revenge, I was doomed to seeking reconcilation, and we were both doomed to never meet in the same land. "And the twain shall never meet."

Now that's a dysfunctional family.
(Not to mention Al and Zsordrin's son, Mordrid Black. Heh.)

So, Malici was ressurected as a shadow. He was now more evil than ever with the powers of a shadow.

He went back to the island and found out that the shaman had led the tribe astray. Oh, something needed to be done about that.

Malici formed an alliance with a pixie and a nymph. The three of them did a full-frontal assault (literally: nymph) on the tribe. The shaman died bloody and ugly.

With the tribe back to where it was supposed to be (spiritually), it was time for Malici to leave the island. But, in his newly-found evilness, not before he killed the pixie and tricked the nymph into committing suicide.

Definitely more evil than ever.

Malici went back to wandering the lands and even took some time to visit some old friends.

Somehow, he had ended up in Al and Corey's cursed land. This is the intense session where everything had changed. Not only did Malici give up his evil ways, but he is the one that lifted the curse. An angry little half-elf, mad at the world and evil to the core, lifted a curse and brought a mother and daughter back together. It was beautiful.

When the gods saw this, Malici was rewarded with his mortal body. Again, it was beautiful.

At long last, Malici knew what he wanted. He had caught of glimpse of it when he led the tribe to safety. After Al and Corey, he finally knew with certainty that all he wanted was peace of mind and to be free from hatred and lies. That first morning back in the prime material, Malici watched the sunrise for the first time.

He went home and dug up his mother's remains. He had a priest do Speak with Dead and he begged her for forgiveness, which she gladly gave with tears in her eyes. He had also found out a few things about his elven father.

He hopes to someday meet his elven father, but he's content right now with hunting down followers of Malar and other evil basterds.

We never really did care for the 'good triumphs over evil' type stories, but this just happened that way through pure role-playing.

:whew:

This was created from a log dump from NWN - our current campaign "A Dark and Hungry God arises", documenting the rise of Bane in the Forgotten Realms after his death.

Be warned, it is quite long.

Beginnings and Endings

The sight of the city walls was a joy to Dor, as he and Megan broke from the forest edge and made for the city gates in a trot. Something had picked up their trail in the forest, and though Dor had his suspicions as to what it was, they had not waited around for it to find them, but had pressed on, Megan having spied a little-used path that had lead in the direction of the city.

They soon reached the gates, and Megan threw a concerned look at Dor, and exclaimed "Finally, this looks like a half-civilised settlement! How's your arm doing?"

Dor clenched his jaws tightly against the pain coming from his shoulder, and mumbled "Me arm, 'tis na so good, Megan"

They both hailed the Gate guard, who eyed the two bedraggled figures suspiciously, and seemed hesitant to open the gate. After first explaining their situation, did the guard reluctantly open the gate and let them in.

The sounds and smells of the city of Fenar'Fai hit Dor's senses hard, and that combined with the pain of his shoulder and the exertion of the past days, caused Dor's head to spin. He noticed a woman inside of the gate. He carreened towards her, and put on his best behavior.

"Hail, an' be praised ta yer", he said "Ah be lookin' fer someone ta heal me arm, would yer be aknownin' someone ta likes o such?"

The woman smiled, answering "Welcome to Fenar'Fai. I believe I know of one, yes."

The relief on Dor's face was apparent.

The woman continued "I am Riannon, a priestess of the Moonmaiden. I can help you".

Dor gulped. "Tha, tha Moonmaiden, yer be sayin'?" He worriedly shot a glance at Megan, but she seemed undistrubed by this.

Rhiannon asked "What has happened?" with a touch of concern in her voice.

After a short explaination of the last couple of days, and introductions, Rhiannon replied "You are blessed to be alive." She continued in a stern voice "The lizards attack this village from time to time, as well."

Dor had the feeling that she genuinely meant this and was concerned about it, and felt a bit confused and out of place. He glanced again at Megan, but she also seemed to be accepting of this Lady in the service of the Moon.

Dor swallowed uncomfortably, and said something to cover it.

"Aye, 'tis Megan ta thank, me be thinkin', he replied, slowly rubbing his jaw and glancing at Megan half-respectifully.

It was true, without her help and resourcefulness, he would have been more worse for the wear, if not dead, Dor realized.

Rhiannon replied "I hope they are not preparing for another attack."

At this time, they were interrupted by the appearance of another.

"Ah, so. More Vagabonds. I don't know what twist of Tymora's knickers brought us all to wash up in this spot. I'm Ignacio."

Dor took an instant dislike to the stranger, but was distracted by Rhiannon.

"Is your arm badly wounded?", she said to Dor.

Dor turned to Rhiannon, and said "Tis a bit o a bump anna shoulder, an' so, I do be thinkin', it be outa place an' such"

Rhiannon reached out her hands, and placed them on Dor's shoulder. A rush of icy energy shot through Dor's body, causing him to gasp out, his eyes widening.

"Is that better?" asked Rhiannon.

Dor was almost panicky.

"Tha do be spellcastin' an' such, wot?", he gasped, his eyes widening.

Rhiannon replied "In a way, but my power is from the divine. The goddess Selune."

The corner of Dor's eyes caught Megan drawing her blade, and he turned his attention quickly in her direction. He noticed that Megan and the stranger seemed to be in a heated discussion of some sort, and moved in Megan's direction, catching a bit of Ignacio's words.

"But if you don't ship that pigsticker, I might have to take it away from you."

Megan did so, but kept her eyes on Ignacio.

"That's better", he replied.

A short exchange of insults passed between Dor and Ignacio, and the air was tense.

Then Rhiannon spoke up, as if nothing had happened.

"Perhaps some rest at the Inn here, and a drink or two?", she let fall, questioningly.

The two stared at each other, then Dor turned to Rhiannon, and Ignacio announced

"I will join you at the Inn shortly, Rhiannon", and turned and strode off.

Dor shot Megan a dark, questioning glance, but she seemed to be in good spirits with the mention of the Inn, so he dropped it.

They all proceeded to the Inn. Dor rubbed his shoulder cautiously, but the pain was gone. He rolled the shoulder, testing for tenderness, but there was none. He glanced at Rhiannon uncomfortably.

"Me thanks an' such, Lady...me arm, it do be better an' all" he blurted out, his face reddening.

She just smiled, and held the door to the Inn open.

"After the two of you", she said, with a smile.

Dor wasn't sure how to react to this show of humanity, of kindness, of goodness. He decided that he would humor her further.

"An' tha first drink, it do be on me. Shall we?" he gestured.

Rhiannon eyed the two briefly, said something under her breath, and went inside.

Megan eyed Dor, and said, "I need a drink" and proceeded into the Inn, Dor following after her.

Inside the Inn, there were a few patrons, and the air reeked of old ale, and smoke from the open fireplace. There were more guests in a nearby corner, who waved at the newcomers and greeted them all, waving for them to have a seat.

Dor raised his voice,"Yer be talkin' ta us, or so? Well, hail an' all that lot ta yer", he answered suspiciously.

Rhiannon seemd to know them, however, and beamed a smile at the strangers.

They all proceeded to the table, and took seats. Ignacio entered the Inn, and joined them at the table. The hired help came by, and took orders of ale and hot pies. The woman at the table introduced herself.

"I am Isabeau, pleased to meet you", she said, politely. Dor gazed at her a bit uneasily, his experienced eye taking in the calused hand, and the worn pommel of her sword. A warrior, he calculated silently.

A bit of small talk and introductions followed, that was shortly broken up by the arrival of food and drink. All reached for hot pie and ale on the table. Another stranger joined them, standing up from a stool in the corner and approaching their table. He spoke in some sing-song language with Ignacio. Dor caught a few words, but soon gave up and turned his attention back to the conversation between Rhiannon and Isabeau. Something about hiring...money.

Ignacio asked "Lizards? What lizards? There are lizards attacking?" apparently in reaction to what Rhiannon and Isabeau had spoken about.

Dor asked "Wait, yer be ahiring, an' such, Lady?" of Rhiannon, but before she could answer, Megan gave a start and drew her blade.

Dor jumped up in alarm "Wot issit, girl!", he stated in a concerned tone, his hands going for his twinswords.

She shook her head and mumbled "Sorry, I must have napped" in an abashed voice as the others stared at her, in surprise, and slowly started to re-sheathed her blade.

Rhiannon admonished lightly "No weapons, please".

Dor flushed in anger "Blood an' ashes, lassie! Yer canna be jus' ahoppin' an' such inna tavern wit tha blade drawn!", withdrawing his hands from his own blades.

Ignacio watched, and changed the subject lightly,

"Well then, let's get out of this codswallop of a village before they get any closer", he suggested.

Rhiannon, Dor, and Ignacio broke out into a heated conversation over the lizardmen. A man approached the table, introducing himself as Hyden, and frowned at the mention of lizardmen.

"What this o' lizards?", he asked in a gruff voice. He goes on, growing more and more morose with the information about the lizardmen, the wreck of the ship, and what seems to be a lighthouse of some sort.

"'Tis not right that no ships come. Somit has gone wrong. Could you all go and check on the lighthouse?", he asked, fraught with fear.

All seemed ready to go, but Dor wasn't about to go without a bit of coin for his troubles.

"Mebbie we could be alookin' inna lighthause an' such
fer ya...fer o bit o gold...", he said, rubbing his jaw slowly.

Hyden dashed his hopes, saying "I can offer ye little coin sir...there's no trade from
the sea..and there's precious little coin here..though you could seek out
the mayor"

Rhiannon smoothly spoke up "Will I need to pay for your .... company?"

Dor looked abashed, let out a long breath "Na, Lady, Ah reckon not."

The others stood up from the table, and all began to make their way to the door.

Outside, they made their way to the gaet, Ignacio pausing to aske the guardsman about the direction to the Mire, where the lighthouse was located. He glanced over at Rhiannon.

"Rhiannon, are you commanding this rag-tag lot?" he asked, studying her closely.

She answered smoothly "If need be...for now, let us see what is at the lighthouse", calmly but firmly accepting the role of leader.

"Looks like the "Mire" is this way. Though how they can tell the difference between the "Mire" and the village is beyond me", replied Ignacio, apparently accepting Rhiannon's leadership.

The rest seemed to, as well, including Dor, and they all moved through the city gates, in the direction of the swamp. After about an hour's walk, they came to the Mire, Dor noticed the fetid smell in the air, and thick flies buzzed in the air.

Dor spoke up "Any acha be havin' experince wit a mire?" he asked questioningly.

"Ifn not, tha do be alistenin', see" he continued, unfazed by Ignacio's apparent ignoring of him.

"Tha be sinkholes an' wot, sure ta suck yer unda. An' tha be leeches so long like yer arm an' such" he stated, looking at each in the party.

Maggie swatted at a mosquito.

"An lots o tha greens be a ichin' an' a poison an' such, aye, ah do be atellin' yers", said Dor, with a serious tone.

The party moved off into the fetid waters of the swamp, the croaking of frogs, the buzzing of flies filling the air. Bird calls rang out, and the plopping of things into water could be heard. It was a hot day, and the humidity was almost unbearable. Sweat started to run down Dor's back as he moved through the water with a smooth, slow pace, his experienced eyes picking out dangerous spots.

A viper struck out from under a plant, and was quickly struck down by Ignacio, who had taken the lead. His elven eyes were very sharp, spotting a number of dangers, and some ruins in the distance. Dor acknowledged Ignacio grudgingly.

Suddenly, Ignacio disappeared behind a fallen tree, signalling danger. Dor notched an arrow, his eyes searching the undergrowth.

The rest of the party tensed, and looked in all directions, as Ignacio signalled that something was to the left, as with a roar, a huge Owlbear broke from cover and charged the party, it's huge beak clacking open and shut!

"By tha gods! It do be an Owlbear!", shouted Dor, loosening an arrow.

The next few seconds was a confusing whirl of combat, as Ignacious engaged the beast, his thin blade flickering here and there, the elf dancing fluidly just out of the reach of the Owlbear. Isabeau drew her sword, and rushed the Owlbear, her blade held high. The bat familiar of Selvynn flew straight into the face of the Owlbear, and it roared in rage, swiping at the bat. A huge claw ripped the bat into shreds, and Selvynn cried out, grief-stricken,

"NO!!! THALA!!!!"

As Megan loosed an arrow at the back of the raging beast, striking it under the left shoulderblade. The Owlbear made a strange sound, and coughed blood through its beak. Ignacio saw his chance, and took it, his slim blade sliding into the chest of the Owlbear easily, as he fluidly slipped between the massive arms of the Owlbear. Isabeau thrust her sword deeply into the underbelly of the beast. The Owlbear convulsed, and Dor unleashed another arrow, it thudding into the mass of the thing.

A last shudder, and the Owlbear went down.

"A whatbear?", questioned Ignacio, wiping off his blade.

Rhiannon examined the beast up close "The beak...", shuddering.

A short argument ensued between Dor and Selvynn, Dor admonishing the man about taking such an animal into a dangerous environment like a swamp.

Suddenly Rhiannon shouted.

"OH!"
"There is someone ahead on the ground", Isabeau pointed out.

"Poor devil", added Ignacio.

The figure on the path ahead was not dead, however, and Rhiannon beant down, administering to her. She pushed a potion to the female's lips, and poured the contents into her mouth.

Ignacio kept slipping into and out of the shadows, moving about. Dor glared at him, irritatingly. Tha fool is likes ta git ourselves killed, Dor muttered under his breath.

The female sat up, drawing Dor's attention. She was scantily dressed, and Dor felt his ears burning, and looked away.

The female spoke,

"I...I will go with you."

After a short but useless attempt to get her to wear clothes, Dor gave up, trying not to glance in her direction. Rhiannon gathered the party together, and got them all moving again. Ignacio took the lead, his sharp elven eyes and senses coming in handy, pointing out vipers on the side of the trail many times. Megan shot one that got too close, pinning the head to a tree-trunk.

Suddenly Dor stopped, realizing what the new female was. He had heard of such creatures around the campfire, but had not thought that such tales were true - a Nymph!

He gaped at Threnody.

"Tha...tha no be possible...Ah do be meanin' ah no be thinkin' ah be aseein' such...me fatter do be asyin'..", he stuttered, then stole his gaze away from her.

"Tha do be awitchin' an' so", he said warningly.

Rhiannon waved them onwards, and Ignacio scouted the path northwards. A Jaguar shot out from the underbrush, and ambushed the elf. Ignacio barely managed to twist aside, avoiding the main assualt, but a raking of the claws did rend his side. Isabeau rushed the cat with drawn blade, delivering blow after blow. The Jaguar retreated from her advance, and Dor unleashed a hail of arrows, followed by Megan. Rhiannon rushed the Jaguar, and was caught with a clawed paw. Isabeau slipped her blade between the Jaguar's breast, piercing its heart. A growl, and it slumped to the ground.

"Good shot!", praised Ignacio.

Dor eyed the Jaguar sadly, and gave a quick passing ritual.

"We do be ahonoring yer goin'", he said, kneeling by the great cat's head.

After seeing to Rhiannon's injuries, the party proceeded on. Ignacio was his usual self, darting about here and there, slipping in and out of the shadows, scouting ahead. Finally, the party reached a drier and less humid part of the swamp, and the rain stopped. They were near the edge of the swamp, apparently.

Suddenly, a Lizardman appeared as if out of nowhere, taking the party by surprise.

"Blood an' ashes!", exclaimed Dor.
All had drawn weapons, and had surrounded the Lizardman. But after the initial shock, the Lizardman belayed their concerns, and it turned out that it wasn't dangerous. In fact, it was quite friendly, and was interested in finding allies in helping kill some other lizardmen. After a short conversation, the party agreed to seek these evil lizardmen out and kill them. The lizardman scout To'rkak led the party to a small encampment of lizardmen, who were dispatched in a surprise attack swiftly by the party.

After a short pause, the party continued on to the lighthouse.

Dor found that his admiration for Megan's skills growing, and he became a bit uneasy about the bound between them. He didn't like feeling bound to something, let alone another person.

He turned his thoughts to the party, unwilling to think about the consequences of pursuing his thoughts on Megan further. Rhiannon lead with a natural talent, much like his father had, he realized. His irritation with the elf, Ignacio was dimming, the elf had Tymora's eye, there was no denying that! The speller Selvynn was annoying, and Dor thought that he wouldn't stand much of a chance of surviving if separated from the group. Isabeau had proven to be a good warrior, and Dor eyed her approvingly. Steadfast and strong, she would not run from a standup fight. The Nymph still caused a shudder to run down his spine, but Rhiannon seemed to think she was ok, and who was Dor to tell her different?

The party followed To'rkak, and Dor could not help but wonder, where the lizardman was leading them. He glanced over at Megan, and suddenly realized that whatever happened, she would watch his back, and he hers. It was a confusing feeling, familiar and strange, all at once.

Dor shook his head, and concentrated on the surroundings. They weren't out of the swamp yet, and danger lurked all around.

Na time ta be a woolhead, Dor, he said to himself. He checked his gear one last time, and continued after the others.

NOTE - The words of the other characters here were taken from the log of the actual adventure.

WebShaman | Asylum D & D | D & D Min Page

(Edited by WebShaman on 05-11-2005 22:07)

heh...haven't thought about D&D or paper RPGs in a long, long time.
In one of the various crews I played with over the years, two guys created twin half-ogres. There names were Dorrin and Thrud half-oge (If you recognize the name Thrud, you've been playing RPGs for a very long time) Dorrin and Thrud we orpahans found by halflings, and were raised by halflings, thus they thought they were halflings. That alone created many interesting times. Thrud also believed that his God spoke to him, and begged him to become protector of all chickens. So this huge half-orge would wander all over with a chicken on a leash.
I also remember we made up some special tables based on Critical Fumbles, (ie. roll really bad with your die = bad thing happen). It was always a bad thing when Dorrin or Thrud made a Critical Fumble. Just imagine what an insanely huge battle-axe, magical to the point of being nuclear might do when "you miss, and the axe slips from your grasp towards the heart of your party". Big owies.

WOW!

Thrud the Barbarian!! With his pin-head!

There was even a miniature made of him.

Hehe...we used to have a half-ogre in the party - best darned door-opener you ever seen!

Yeah I remember that miniature, I had always wanted one of those. I also wanted to get the graphic novel, wasn't there two of them?

One of my friends knows of Thrud. Slightly before my time, though.

Just got back from another session. Only a few hours, but it thoroughly rocked.

Four of us in Undermountain. A long north/south hallway. To the north is an undead, evil paladin looking to get the dwarf in the party (revenge). To the south are four doors, two on the east and two on the west.

Door #1 turns out to be a booby-trap. Open the door and wind blows you in. If you manage to shut the door, a clock starts to count down from 60 seconds. There is a button next to the clock that resets it back to 60 seconds. Seem innoculous enough, but the murder holes in the walls were pretty suspect. We spent a good chunk of time resetting the clock and getting blown into the far wall and taking damage. We did finally manage to get all of us out, but the wind seriously kicked our asses.

Door #2 goes into a giant underground garden. With the party in such a sad state, avoiding the garden right now is a good thing.

Door #3 also leads into the garden, but I previously Wizard Locked it to keep some evil little pixies away from us.

Door #4 is an unknown.

Doors 3 & 4 are at the south end, which is a dead end. We were hoping to use D4 as an escape from the undead paladin. Unfortunately, a Mirror of Opposition was right there. As soon as we got close enough, our opposites jumped out and attacked.

Now, I'm a wimpy little mage/thief with wimply little hit points. At the time it was even worse because I was only at 4hp - and I was currently one of the healthier of the party.

I tell them to run north to the garden door while I hold off the opposites. They run like mad hoping to get to the door before the paladin can close the distance. By pure dice rolling miracle, I managed to hold off the opposites for 1 round without taking damage, and the party managed to get through the door before the paladin whips 'em.

Next round, I win initiative and drop a nuke (fireball) right at my feet. Since the opposites had our hp, they don't survive. The paladin also get totally blown away.

I had sacrificed myself and saved the rest of the party. Time to mourn my character and roll up another one. :sigh:

When the smoke finally cleared, not only am I still standing, but totally healed back to full health. WTF? In a state of shock and still smoking, I fetch the party and we go back to our safe haven.

The DM told us out-of-character what happened. Turns out that one of my magic items is divine (Dumathoin) and not reproducable by a Mirror of Opposition (DM's discretion). When I hit 0hp due to the nuke, the divine magic kicked in and healed my wimpy ass.

It was a blast. Sure we got our asses kicked, lost some potions and a magical trident, but we were laughing the whole time. In a few years, we'll be looking back and laughing all over again.

One of the cool things is that the DM's daughter is coming around. Her life is pretty rough in some spots and it was good seeing her laughing and participating.

Me while dwarf's body was about to crush me against a wall: "Famous last words . . ."
DM's Daughter right on cue: "Ahhhhh!"

With that scream, she had us laughing once again dispite the beating we were taking.

Babbling about something makes me feel better. Dealing with another shit storm, so here I am looking for a few minutes of escape.

Character Creation

I'm a role-player kind of player. I just plain adore creating characters. My general flow of starting broad and getting narrower. Here comes Alexis D. Drommond.

We were starting a new champaign and everone was present for character generation. The DM laid down two rules: human only and no magic users (priest or wizard). This is because we were starting off in a little pocket dimension ruled hard by a nasty coven. Our first adventure was to escape.

I always start of extremely general. My first thought was that I wanted to play a psychopath. I had played a psycho before and it was a blast, but this time I wanted a psycho of a different colour.

Checking with the other members, I decided on fighter. Limited choice, but the number of thieves were piling up. Okay, a psychopathic fighter.

I rolled for attributes and rolled *extremely* well. Oh, this was going to be good.

Having my sense of humour, I put the two highest into Int and Char.

Okay, a highly intelligent fighter, but intelligent in what manner? Being a fighter, I decided on smithy ways. He could make armour, weapons, and anything else made out of metal. Even threw in some carpentry and masonry skills for good measure. This is the kind of guy that could design an entire town and build it himself from scratch straight from the mountain.

Okay, a psychopath with high charisma. Being lowly in station (a mere smithy from a poor family), one of his favorite hobbies is to infiltrate high society parties and have some harmless fun. Once in, he'll sweet talk some ladies, then eventually go streaking. Or maybe strip down to a loincloth and pretend to be a statue. For some reason, he thnks that being naked, or mostly naked, at a high society party is damn funny. Besides, the chics really dig his physique.

One of the more interesting choices for Alexis was his weapon of choice: trident. That thing came in handy so many times in non-combat situations. And being a smithy genius, he modified his boots with spring-loaded spikes so he could anchor himself while reeling somebody in.

That's most of him, but let's add a few more psychopathic touches.

He's afraid of heights. Anything more than 15 feet and he freaks. He'll crawl across bridges and will not climb up/down cliffs. He'll climb up a building to get to a party, but not a cliff.

Because of his high charisma, he's got a very handsome smile. But sometimes his grin gets a little too big. This means that he's got an urge and is about to let loose. Like right before he goes streaking. Or maybe he's going to throw someone into a well.

Not really the kind of psycho that gets angry. His charisma helps others around him stay 'on his side' and not push him too hard when things get weird. If he does cross the line, it's anything goes.

One last touch.

His name is Alexis D. Drommond and that's how he introduces himself with a smile. If asked what the 'D' stands for, he gets very irrate. His face will get red, he'll tense up, and say through clenched teeth, "My father never told me."

That's Alexis D. Drommond and he's ready to go. Might sound more neurotic than psychotic, but the difference will show during gaming.

Yes, ready to go, but I decided on future goals. What was he hoping to accomplish down the road on a personal level? Since he's pretty much mastered all forms of smithy, he will eventually turn his attention to anatomy. As he learns more about anatomy, he'll try to merge anatomy with smithy. Start by chopping up the dead and studying bones. Then start fashioning bones out of metal. Then try to replace bones with his fabricated metal bones . . . eventually try this in vivo. Of course won't work, but won't stop him from trying. Maybe even someday he'll turn to necromancy to reach this goal.

When Alexis had reached 5th level, that's when I/he started studying bones. So, a slow process and plenty of time.

You know, if Alexis had reached a higher level and had turned Necro, he would have made a fine villian. Imagine a low-level party fighting some of Alexis's skeletons with some metal bones and going WTF? Or maybe fighting zombies with weapons for forearms. Or maybe stumbling across one of his old, abandoned workshops with some scattered notes.

That's my flow for characters. Idea first, then class, then attributes, then the little things. Not always in that much detail, though.

(Edited by warjournal on 05-24-2005 20:10)

Rikki the Rat Boy

For reason I had the urge to play a filthy little street kid. An orphaned kid that survived in the sewers and back-alleys. Basic idea.

Party in need of a priest, so decided on a Rat Shaman.

This time, before attributes, some back-story. Rikki was orphaned for some reason. Maybe his parents died or they just left him. He was too young to remember what happened, like around 5 or something ridiculous. He survived by digging around in garbage and hiding. Yeah, a very rat-like existance.

He was found out by a dwarf that happened to be a member of the Sewer Cleaning Guild. He kind of adopted Rikki. Rikki was very independant, but the dwarf befriended him and made sure that Rikki has some hot food and some fresh blankets.

Rikki, with a dwarven foster father figure, started to think about things more 'human'. As Rikki turned his thoughts inward, he became a Rat Shaman (in addition to his thieving skills).

How old is Rikki? No one knows for sure. However old he is, he's awlfully small for his age. He's frail, but vicious when cornered. I decided that he would be about the age of starting puberty.

Attributes

Rolled as crappy as crappy can be. Which was fine because Rikki wasn't supposed to be super anything. Highest score Wis = 14. And Chr was the lowest at 6 or something.

What does it mean? He has shown higher than average wisdom because he was able to survive on his own at such a young age (Wis > Priest). Like survival intuition or something. He is able to assess a dangerous situation rather quickly and know how best to insure his survival.

Low charisma because of his filthy ways and lack of 'human' social skills.

Because of high wis and low chr, I had decided on another personal dynamic. Sounded hard to play, so I had to come up with a plan. Even though he can understand broader situations, he has a hard time conveying his thoughts. To get his point across, he would tell a story, often with animorphism. This worked out very well. When he got to talking, people wouldn't understand what he was saying and tell him to shut up. This was even better because he was 'just a filthy little kid'.

Personal Goals

Have a mother figure in his life. He just wanted someone to hold him and take care of him in a way that only a mother could. This was complicated by the on-set of puberty.

Find Shamans like himself and put a name to his diety. He had the power, but he didn't fully understand where it came from. He knew that there must be other out there like him.

How did Rikki do once he was a part of the party?
Maybe I'll tell you later.