Post by Brother Dun on Jul 25, 2013 0:10:36 GMT -6
Character Name: Banaschar
Alias: Ban the Drunk
Race: Human
Age: 37
Sex: Male
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 168
Build: Average
Complexion: Light
Hair Color: Brown
Hair Style: Slightly Shaggy, Unkempt
ECL: 5
Experience: 15000/23000
Classes: Favored Soul
Class Archetypes: List any class archetypes taken here.
Faith: Olladra
Alignment: Neutral Good
Initiative: 1d20+7
Perception: 1d20+5
Sense Motives: 1d20+10
Languages: Common, Dwarven, Elven, Halfling, Undercommon
HP: 33/33
AC: 17 [10 + 3 + 3 + Natural Armor Bonus + Shield Bonus + 1]
Touch: 14 [10 + 3 + 1]
Flat Footed: 13 [10 + 3 + Natural Armor Bonus + Shield Bonus + Other Modifiers]
Special Modifiers: List circumstantial modifiers below.
Fortitude: 5 [4 + 1 + Other Modifiers]
Reflex: 7 [4 + 3 + Other Modifiers]
Will: 6 [4 + 2 + Other Modifiers]
Special Modifiers: List circumstantial modifiers below.
Damage Reduction: List your character's damage reduction here.
Spell Resistance: List your character's spell modifier here.
Immunities:
Vulnerabilities:
Base Attack Bonus [BAB]: +3
Combat Maneuver Bonus: 3 [3 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Combat Maneuver Defense: 16 [10 + 3 + 0 + 3 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Movement: 20 [30 - 10 Medium Armor + Other Modifiers]
Movement Modifiers: List circumstantial movement modifiers here.
Normal Attack - Sickle
Standard Attack: 1d20+3 [3 + 0]
Full Round Attack: 1d20+3 [3 + 0]
Damage: 1d6+0 [0]
Range: Melee
Critical: x2
Special Modifiers: n/a
Normal Attack - Custom Light Crossbow
Standard Attack: 1d20+6 [3 + 3]
Full Round Attack: 1d20+6 [3 + 3]
Damage: 1d8 [+0]
Range: 80 ft.
Critical: 19-20/x2
Special Modifiers: Non-Lethal Damage, Blunt Bolts x50
Strength [Str]: 10 [+0]
Dexterity [Dex]: 16 [+3]
Constitution [Con]: 12 [+1]
Intelligence [Int]: 15 [+2]
Wisdom [Wis]: 15 [+2]
Charisma [Cha]: 18 [+4]
Subtype:
Size: Medium
Speed: 30 ft
Vision: Normal
Immunities: None
Resistances: None
Stat Benefits: Human characters gain a +2 racial bonus to one ability score of their choice at creation to represent their varied nature. (Charisma)
Skill Benefits: Humans gain an additional skill rank at first level and one additional rank whenever they gain a level.
Other Benefits: +1 HP on Level Up
Weapon Proficiency: Simple
Armor Proficiency: Light and Medium
Shield Proficiency: All (Except Tower Shields)
Class Features:
A favored soul is also proficient with their deity’s favored weapon. Armor of any kind and shields do not interfere with the favored soul’s spellcasting.
Calling: Call to Alleviate
Healing Lore: At 1st level, the favored soul adds cure light wounds and stabilize to their list of spells known. As the favored soul gains access to new spells known, they gain every spell with cure in its name as a bonus spell at that level.
Selfless Healer: At 3rd level, whenever a favored soul casts a spell with a range of touch, the spell heals for 50% more if the favored soul is healing a creature other than themselves. This benefit is lost if the spell’s range increases beyond touch for any reason, such as the Extend Spell metamagic feat.
Fast Learner: When you gain a level in a favored class, you gain both +1 hit point and +1 skill rank instead of choosing either one or the other benefit or you can choose an alternate class reward.
Combat Casting: You get a +4 bonus on concentration checks made to cast a spell or use a spell-like ability when casting on the defensive or while grappled.
Dodge: You gain a +1 dodge bonus to your AC. A condition that makes you lose your Dex bonus to AC also makes you lose the benefits of this feat.
Improved Initiative: You get a +4 bonus on initiative checks.
Acrobatics: 3 [ +0 + 3 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Appraise: 2 [ +0 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Bluff: 4 [ +0 + 4 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Climb: 0 [ +0 + 0 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Craft (Bows): 6 [ +1 + 2 + 3 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Diplomacy: 12 [ +5 + 4 + 3 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Disable Device: 2 [ +0 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Disguise: 4 [ 0 + 4 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Escape Artist: 3 [ +0 + 3 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Fly: 3 [ +0 + 3 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Handle Animal: 4 [ +0 + 4 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Heal: 10 [ +5 + 2 + 3 + Armor Check Penalty + Other Modifiers]
Intimidate: 4 [ +0 + 4 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Arcana): 10 [ +5 + 2 + 3 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Dungeoneering): 2 [ +0 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Engineering): 2 [ +0 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Geography): 2 [ +0 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (History): 3 [ +1 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Local): 3 [+1 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Nature): 2 [ +0+ 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Nobility): 1 [ +1 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Planes): 2 [ +0+ 2 + 0 +2 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Religion): 3 [ +1 + 2 + 0 + Armor Check Penalty + Other Modifiers]
Linguistics: 2 [ +0 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Perception: 5 [ +3 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Perform: 4 [ +0 + 4 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Profession (Bowyer): 6 [ +1 + 2 + 3 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Ride: 3 [ +0 + 3 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Sense Motive: 10 [ +5 + 2 + 3 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Sleight of Hand: 4 [ +1 + 3 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Spellcraft: 10 [ +5 + 2 + 3 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Stealth: 3 [ +0 + 3 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Survival: 2 [ +0 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Swim: 0 [ +0 + 0 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Use Magic Device: 4 [ +0 + 4 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Current Load: 58.5 lbs
Light Load: 0-33 lbs.
Medium Load: 34-66 lbs.
Heavy Load: 67-100 lbs.
Lift Capacity: 100 lbs.
Encumbered Lift: 200 lbs.
Drag Capacity: 500 lbs.
Platinum Pieces: --
Gold Pieces: 137
Silver Pieces: 7
Bronze Pieces: 9
Sickle - 1d6 damage, 2 lbs.
Custom Light Crossbow - 1d8 damage, 4 lbs.
- Blunt Crossbow Bolts x50 - 5 lbs
Armored Kilt - +1 AC/+6 Max Dex/10 lbs
Leather Armor - +2 AC/+6 Max Dex/15 lbs
Other Items: Bedroll, Blanket, Soap, Compass, Candle Lamp, Candle x5, Trail Rations x5, Blue Book, Journal, Inkpen, Ink, Vial, Backpack, Waterproof Bag, Jug, Flask, Hooded Cloak, Potion of Cure Light Wounds x2, Potion of Mage Armor x2
Spell-Save DC: 14+Spell Level [10 + Spell Level + 4]
Spells per Day:
0: Unlimited!
1: 6
2: 4
3: -
4: -
5: -
6: -
7: -
8: -
9: -
Known Spells:
0: Create Water, Detect Magic, Enhanced Diplomacy, Light, Read Magic, Stabilize
1: Bless, Cure Light Wounds, Doom, Enhance Water, Remove Sickness, Shield of Faith
2: Aid, Bull's Strength, Cure Moderate Wounds, Lesser Restoration
3:
4:
5:
6:
7:
8:
9:
Alias: Ban the Drunk
Race: Human
Age: 37
Sex: Male
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 168
Build: Average
Complexion: Light
Hair Color: Brown
Hair Style: Slightly Shaggy, Unkempt
Class Information:
ECL: 5
Experience: 15000/23000
Classes: Favored Soul
Class Archetypes: List any class archetypes taken here.
Faith: Olladra
Alignment: Neutral Good
Defensive Scores and Skills:
Initiative: 1d20+7
Perception: 1d20+5
Sense Motives: 1d20+10
Languages: Common, Dwarven, Elven, Halfling, Undercommon
HP: 33/33
AC: 17 [10 + 3 + 3 + Natural Armor Bonus + Shield Bonus + 1]
Touch: 14 [10 + 3 + 1]
Flat Footed: 13 [10 + 3 + Natural Armor Bonus + Shield Bonus + Other Modifiers]
Special Modifiers: List circumstantial modifiers below.
Fortitude: 5 [4 + 1 + Other Modifiers]
Reflex: 7 [4 + 3 + Other Modifiers]
Will: 6 [4 + 2 + Other Modifiers]
Special Modifiers: List circumstantial modifiers below.
Damage Reduction: List your character's damage reduction here.
Spell Resistance: List your character's spell modifier here.
Immunities:
Vulnerabilities:
Combat Statistics:
Base Attack Bonus [BAB]: +3
Combat Maneuver Bonus: 3 [3 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Combat Maneuver Defense: 16 [10 + 3 + 0 + 3 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Movement: 20 [30 - 10 Medium Armor + Other Modifiers]
Movement Modifiers: List circumstantial movement modifiers here.
Normal Attack - Sickle
Standard Attack: 1d20+3 [3 + 0]
Full Round Attack: 1d20+3 [3 + 0]
Damage: 1d6+0 [0]
Range: Melee
Critical: x2
Special Modifiers: n/a
Normal Attack - Custom Light Crossbow
Standard Attack: 1d20+6 [3 + 3]
Full Round Attack: 1d20+6 [3 + 3]
Damage: 1d8 [+0]
Range: 80 ft.
Critical: 19-20/x2
Special Modifiers: Non-Lethal Damage, Blunt Bolts x50
Ability Scores:
Strength [Str]: 10 [+0]
Dexterity [Dex]: 16 [+3]
Constitution [Con]: 12 [+1]
Intelligence [Int]: 15 [+2]
Wisdom [Wis]: 15 [+2]
Charisma [Cha]: 18 [+4]
Racial Qualities:
Subtype:
Size: Medium
Speed: 30 ft
Vision: Normal
Immunities: None
Resistances: None
Stat Benefits: Human characters gain a +2 racial bonus to one ability score of their choice at creation to represent their varied nature. (Charisma)
Skill Benefits: Humans gain an additional skill rank at first level and one additional rank whenever they gain a level.
Other Benefits: +1 HP on Level Up
Class Qualities:
Weapon Proficiency: Simple
Armor Proficiency: Light and Medium
Shield Proficiency: All (Except Tower Shields)
Class Features:
A favored soul is also proficient with their deity’s favored weapon. Armor of any kind and shields do not interfere with the favored soul’s spellcasting.
Calling: Call to Alleviate
Healing Lore: At 1st level, the favored soul adds cure light wounds and stabilize to their list of spells known. As the favored soul gains access to new spells known, they gain every spell with cure in its name as a bonus spell at that level.
Selfless Healer: At 3rd level, whenever a favored soul casts a spell with a range of touch, the spell heals for 50% more if the favored soul is healing a creature other than themselves. This benefit is lost if the spell’s range increases beyond touch for any reason, such as the Extend Spell metamagic feat.
Feats:
Fast Learner: When you gain a level in a favored class, you gain both +1 hit point and +1 skill rank instead of choosing either one or the other benefit or you can choose an alternate class reward.
Combat Casting: You get a +4 bonus on concentration checks made to cast a spell or use a spell-like ability when casting on the defensive or while grappled.
Dodge: You gain a +1 dodge bonus to your AC. A condition that makes you lose your Dex bonus to AC also makes you lose the benefits of this feat.
Improved Initiative: You get a +4 bonus on initiative checks.
Skills:
Acrobatics: 3 [ +0 + 3 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Appraise: 2 [ +0 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Bluff: 4 [ +0 + 4 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Climb: 0 [ +0 + 0 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Craft (Bows): 6 [ +1 + 2 + 3 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Diplomacy: 12 [ +5 + 4 + 3 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Disable Device: 2 [ +0 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Disguise: 4 [ 0 + 4 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Escape Artist: 3 [ +0 + 3 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Fly: 3 [ +0 + 3 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Handle Animal: 4 [ +0 + 4 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Heal: 10 [ +5 + 2 + 3 + Armor Check Penalty + Other Modifiers]
Intimidate: 4 [ +0 + 4 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Arcana): 10 [ +5 + 2 + 3 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Dungeoneering): 2 [ +0 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Engineering): 2 [ +0 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Geography): 2 [ +0 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (History): 3 [ +1 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Local): 3 [+1 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Nature): 2 [ +0+ 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Nobility): 1 [ +1 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Planes): 2 [ +0+ 2 + 0 +2 + Other Modifiers]
Knowledge (Religion): 3 [ +1 + 2 + 0 + Armor Check Penalty + Other Modifiers]
Linguistics: 2 [ +0 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Perception: 5 [ +3 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Perform: 4 [ +0 + 4 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Profession (Bowyer): 6 [ +1 + 2 + 3 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Ride: 3 [ +0 + 3 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Sense Motive: 10 [ +5 + 2 + 3 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Sleight of Hand: 4 [ +1 + 3 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Spellcraft: 10 [ +5 + 2 + 3 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Stealth: 3 [ +0 + 3 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Survival: 2 [ +0 + 2 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Swim: 0 [ +0 + 0 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Use Magic Device: 4 [ +0 + 4 + 0 + 0 + Other Modifiers]
Carrying Capacity and Movement Modifiers:
Current Load: 58.5 lbs
Light Load: 0-33 lbs.
Medium Load: 34-66 lbs.
Heavy Load: 67-100 lbs.
Lift Capacity: 100 lbs.
Encumbered Lift: 200 lbs.
Drag Capacity: 500 lbs.
Inventory:
Platinum Pieces: --
Gold Pieces: 137
Silver Pieces: 7
Bronze Pieces: 9
Sickle - 1d6 damage, 2 lbs.
Custom Light Crossbow - 1d8 damage, 4 lbs.
- Blunt Crossbow Bolts x50 - 5 lbs
Armored Kilt - +1 AC/+6 Max Dex/10 lbs
Leather Armor - +2 AC/+6 Max Dex/15 lbs
Other Items: Bedroll, Blanket, Soap, Compass, Candle Lamp, Candle x5, Trail Rations x5, Blue Book, Journal, Inkpen, Ink, Vial, Backpack, Waterproof Bag, Jug, Flask, Hooded Cloak, Potion of Cure Light Wounds x2, Potion of Mage Armor x2
Spell Casting [Remove for Non-Spellcasters:]
Spell-Save DC: 14+Spell Level [10 + Spell Level + 4]
Spells per Day:
0: Unlimited!
1: 6
2: 4
3: -
4: -
5: -
6: -
7: -
8: -
9: -
Known Spells:
0: Create Water, Detect Magic, Enhanced Diplomacy, Light, Read Magic, Stabilize
1: Bless, Cure Light Wounds, Doom, Enhance Water, Remove Sickness, Shield of Faith
2: Aid, Bull's Strength, Cure Moderate Wounds, Lesser Restoration
3:
4:
5:
6:
7:
8:
9:
Biography
The Journal of Banaschar
The Purpose
Not that anyone reading this will actually care, but I've decided, in my own drunken stupor, to begin putting down the trials of my life. Perhaps it is simple folly, this need to record that which I see in my own tortured existence, or perhaps it is that so called 'Goddess' enforcing some modicum of her will upon me. Whatever it is, I cannot actually say, but I must admit it feels right. After all, if I'm going to go through my life as a witness, what good is it to leave behind no trace of all things I've borne witness to? I suppose then, I shall do away with this simple prose, and start from the beginning of this wretched existence I call my life.
The Purpose
Not that anyone reading this will actually care, but I've decided, in my own drunken stupor, to begin putting down the trials of my life. Perhaps it is simple folly, this need to record that which I see in my own tortured existence, or perhaps it is that so called 'Goddess' enforcing some modicum of her will upon me. Whatever it is, I cannot actually say, but I must admit it feels right. After all, if I'm going to go through my life as a witness, what good is it to leave behind no trace of all things I've borne witness to? I suppose then, I shall do away with this simple prose, and start from the beginning of this wretched existence I call my life.
The Bargain, 13th of Aryth, 960 YK
Let us start before the beginning of my life, perhaps a simple anecdote to explain the current lot I find myself holding. My father and mother were simple merchants, bowyers by trade. While the work that my father created was sturdy and well crafted, his business was never overly prosperous. They didn't struggle to get by, but they also were unhappy with their relatively modest lot in life. After all, anyone that lived within the Middle City always aspired to move up into the Upper City, and those within the Upper City are envious of those living in the Skyway, and those poor souls within the Lower City are always looking for any way out and up. Indeed, it seems to be that only those within the Skyway are ever truly content with their lives, or at least in regards to where they live. However, their lives is not what I am concerned with. My mother and father, peddling their wares in the lower city, aspired for greater success. The type of booming success that would lead them to a higher strata, to become one of those rare, fortunate souls that all within the lower levels aspire to become. However, where most fall flat, my parents had what they considered a wondrous idea, one that would become a great stroke of fortune for them! My mother, as this month of Passage would have it, was with child! And so my dear, loving parents, conspired together, to offer their hence unborn child to the Goddess of the Earth, the Goddess of Fortune, Olladra. Such an offering seemed too good for Olladra to pass up, and she accepted. And so, even before I was born, my fate was sealed. A bargain was struck for my soul, with my parents and that most fickle of Gods and Goddesses. Ware unto those who would follow the example of my parents, for Olladra is the Goddess of Fortune, but also the Goddess of Misfortune, two-sides of the same coin. One my parents ignored.
Let us start before the beginning of my life, perhaps a simple anecdote to explain the current lot I find myself holding. My father and mother were simple merchants, bowyers by trade. While the work that my father created was sturdy and well crafted, his business was never overly prosperous. They didn't struggle to get by, but they also were unhappy with their relatively modest lot in life. After all, anyone that lived within the Middle City always aspired to move up into the Upper City, and those within the Upper City are envious of those living in the Skyway, and those poor souls within the Lower City are always looking for any way out and up. Indeed, it seems to be that only those within the Skyway are ever truly content with their lives, or at least in regards to where they live. However, their lives is not what I am concerned with. My mother and father, peddling their wares in the lower city, aspired for greater success. The type of booming success that would lead them to a higher strata, to become one of those rare, fortunate souls that all within the lower levels aspire to become. However, where most fall flat, my parents had what they considered a wondrous idea, one that would become a great stroke of fortune for them! My mother, as this month of Passage would have it, was with child! And so my dear, loving parents, conspired together, to offer their hence unborn child to the Goddess of the Earth, the Goddess of Fortune, Olladra. Such an offering seemed too good for Olladra to pass up, and she accepted. And so, even before I was born, my fate was sealed. A bargain was struck for my soul, with my parents and that most fickle of Gods and Goddesses. Ware unto those who would follow the example of my parents, for Olladra is the Goddess of Fortune, but also the Goddess of Misfortune, two-sides of the same coin. One my parents ignored.
The Babe, 13th of Eyre, 960 YK
Upon this auspicious day, the 13th of Eyre, the month of Making, I was thrust forth into this world. Pulled from my mother's womb, a naked babe, screaming and crying, torn from the only reality my young mind had ever known. What my father and mother asked, in bargaining my soul, they received. Unprecedented wealth and success soon followed, after that fateful deal was struck. So much success, luck would have it, that forced mother and father to work non-stop, even as her belly grew with each passing day. Indeed, some would say it was her working that caused it, the complications she suffered. The fear of the wetnurse that the babe would be lost, well before birth. Of course, when one sells your unborn child to a Goddess, you do not reneg on that deal. The baby had to be born, lest my parents face the wrath of Olladra. So a risky attempt was made to bring forth my birth. It succeeded, obviously, in beginning the life of Olladra's pawn, her toy... And of showing why one must carefully consider all avenues when dealing with the Gods. Olladra claimed my mother on that day, her tired and worn body unable to deal with the stress of the forced birthing. Fortune and Misfortune, Olladra, you fickle bitch. Father would blame his child, of course, for the loss of beloved wife. Nevermind the fact that it was he, who first thought of the bargain, he who convinced mother to do it, and he who rushed her into said forced birthing, for fear of his own soul. His bitterness must be directed somewhere, and obviously he could not direct it at himself or the Goddess whose patronage he sought. No, the child would do. The child would do just fine.
Upon this auspicious day, the 13th of Eyre, the month of Making, I was thrust forth into this world. Pulled from my mother's womb, a naked babe, screaming and crying, torn from the only reality my young mind had ever known. What my father and mother asked, in bargaining my soul, they received. Unprecedented wealth and success soon followed, after that fateful deal was struck. So much success, luck would have it, that forced mother and father to work non-stop, even as her belly grew with each passing day. Indeed, some would say it was her working that caused it, the complications she suffered. The fear of the wetnurse that the babe would be lost, well before birth. Of course, when one sells your unborn child to a Goddess, you do not reneg on that deal. The baby had to be born, lest my parents face the wrath of Olladra. So a risky attempt was made to bring forth my birth. It succeeded, obviously, in beginning the life of Olladra's pawn, her toy... And of showing why one must carefully consider all avenues when dealing with the Gods. Olladra claimed my mother on that day, her tired and worn body unable to deal with the stress of the forced birthing. Fortune and Misfortune, Olladra, you fickle bitch. Father would blame his child, of course, for the loss of beloved wife. Nevermind the fact that it was he, who first thought of the bargain, he who convinced mother to do it, and he who rushed her into said forced birthing, for fear of his own soul. His bitterness must be directed somewhere, and obviously he could not direct it at himself or the Goddess whose patronage he sought. No, the child would do. The child would do just fine.
The Father, 961YK-973YK
I suppose I could give a more precise accounting of my upbriging, but in truth... There is nothing truly momentous enough to warrant special mention. So allow me, then, to simply summarize. I was the sole child of a successful merchantman father, who utterly despised me. He knew what I was, the tool of a God, the cause of his lonliness, the thing that created the void where his heart used to be. I would argue that he was his own villain, but in his eyes, it was all my fault. Regardless, it doesn't truly matter. There would be no warm and loving home, no night time stories being told by my father to his son, as I sat upon his lap before a fire crackling in the fireplace. All I ever received was his silent emnity, worked as soon as my fingers were coordinated enough to string a bow, to work in his ever growing and successful bowyer business. At night, when I was too tired to continue working, often times I would find myself victim of my father's drunken rage. The bottle seemed to bring his only respite from the sorrow he felt. Of course, the bottle simply replaced his sorrow with rage, and I would find that he would take his frustrations and anger out upon that symbol of Olladra, his own child, with fists, with bow, with leather strappings, anything that was handy. It was not a good homelife. Finally, as I grew older, my father grew tired of delivering his beatings, that by this point occurred nightly, and attempted to send me off to the Order. After all, my presence in his life brought unprecedented success! Indeed, my talents had also begun to manifest themselves, I was perfectly able to remove all sign of the harm he inflicted upon me every night, after he had spent what energy and rage he had gathered up from his time with the bottle. He also knew of my origin, and told the Order. They happily took me in, and even paid my father for his troubles... Not that the old bastard needed the coin. He took it anyways and bid me farewell with one final thrashing. I was happy to leave him, but none too thrilled to join the Order. After all, what had that bitch Olladra ever done for me?
I suppose I could give a more precise accounting of my upbriging, but in truth... There is nothing truly momentous enough to warrant special mention. So allow me, then, to simply summarize. I was the sole child of a successful merchantman father, who utterly despised me. He knew what I was, the tool of a God, the cause of his lonliness, the thing that created the void where his heart used to be. I would argue that he was his own villain, but in his eyes, it was all my fault. Regardless, it doesn't truly matter. There would be no warm and loving home, no night time stories being told by my father to his son, as I sat upon his lap before a fire crackling in the fireplace. All I ever received was his silent emnity, worked as soon as my fingers were coordinated enough to string a bow, to work in his ever growing and successful bowyer business. At night, when I was too tired to continue working, often times I would find myself victim of my father's drunken rage. The bottle seemed to bring his only respite from the sorrow he felt. Of course, the bottle simply replaced his sorrow with rage, and I would find that he would take his frustrations and anger out upon that symbol of Olladra, his own child, with fists, with bow, with leather strappings, anything that was handy. It was not a good homelife. Finally, as I grew older, my father grew tired of delivering his beatings, that by this point occurred nightly, and attempted to send me off to the Order. After all, my presence in his life brought unprecedented success! Indeed, my talents had also begun to manifest themselves, I was perfectly able to remove all sign of the harm he inflicted upon me every night, after he had spent what energy and rage he had gathered up from his time with the bottle. He also knew of my origin, and told the Order. They happily took me in, and even paid my father for his troubles... Not that the old bastard needed the coin. He took it anyways and bid me farewell with one final thrashing. I was happy to leave him, but none too thrilled to join the Order. After all, what had that bitch Olladra ever done for me?
The Order, 974YK-989YK
To say I detested my time in the Order would be an understatement. They glorified their patron, the great and magnanimous Olladra. Lady of Harvest and Fortune, the Lady of all that was good, and brought happiness and life. The lady to which all other Gods and Goddesses paled in comparison to. I hated it there. I knew the true face of Olladra, and no matter the proselytizing they tried, the could not sway me from my truth. It was there that I learned of my true nature, of what my parents had done. They put this before me as proof of how great Olladra was, that I was her chosen son. That I would become something far greater than any who had come before. A soul touched and chosen directly by Olladra! Soon, whether it be through her choosing, or perhaps something they did to me while I was there, I began to feel Olladra more directly. Or perhaps it was simply that I was, by this point, becoming a man, and Olladra decided it was time to play with her new toy. I cannot say exactly which it is, but it is certainly something I will make her answer for once that bitch claims my soul, and brings it to her side. Once I was old enough, I immediately left the Order, although I would say they did not express as much dismay as I had expected. Perhaps my attitude and resentment towards them and the Goddes to which I was naught but a tool had finally broken down their walls of self-delusion. Or perhaps, they simply didn't like me, like most every other person in my life. Either way, I was glad to go, and they didn't much try to stop me.
To say I detested my time in the Order would be an understatement. They glorified their patron, the great and magnanimous Olladra. Lady of Harvest and Fortune, the Lady of all that was good, and brought happiness and life. The lady to which all other Gods and Goddesses paled in comparison to. I hated it there. I knew the true face of Olladra, and no matter the proselytizing they tried, the could not sway me from my truth. It was there that I learned of my true nature, of what my parents had done. They put this before me as proof of how great Olladra was, that I was her chosen son. That I would become something far greater than any who had come before. A soul touched and chosen directly by Olladra! Soon, whether it be through her choosing, or perhaps something they did to me while I was there, I began to feel Olladra more directly. Or perhaps it was simply that I was, by this point, becoming a man, and Olladra decided it was time to play with her new toy. I cannot say exactly which it is, but it is certainly something I will make her answer for once that bitch claims my soul, and brings it to her side. Once I was old enough, I immediately left the Order, although I would say they did not express as much dismay as I had expected. Perhaps my attitude and resentment towards them and the Goddes to which I was naught but a tool had finally broken down their walls of self-delusion. Or perhaps, they simply didn't like me, like most every other person in my life. Either way, I was glad to go, and they didn't much try to stop me.
The Reckoning, 22nd of Zarantyr, 989 YK
Upon my exit from the Order, I returned to my home, determined to confront my father. It is then that I found he was finally successful. He finally managed the dream. He moved up to the Upper City. And so, I trudged to the Upper City, to find and confront the bastard. Once there, I found I would soon have to wait. The bitch Olladra beat me to the punch. Fortune and Misfortune, Olladra you cunning whore. As soon as he moved into his new shop in the Upper City, a mere week had passed, a crossbeam collapsed within the workshop and crushed my father's head. As it were, the City itself had claimed ownership of his estate, at least until an heir came forth to claim it. The Order had dug its claws into me for far too long, it would seem, and after I moved to claim my inheritence, I was left with a fraction of my father's wealth. Fees, taxes, interest, all the wonderful aspects of bureaucracy all took their 'fair' share. Indeed, even the Order managed to wrangle some away, as his patron religion, they deserved a cut. They further collected more, to cover my tuition, room and board. However, even the small amount that I was left with, I had in my possession, more wealth than most would ever hope to attain. At first there were those that wondered if I would continue in my father's business, as I was certainly as skilled as he... But I had no interest in such a thing. I also hated my life, my father, the Order that educated me, and I especially hated the Goddess that claimed me. So I disappeared, taking that wealth and what I could carry with me upon my back.
Upon my exit from the Order, I returned to my home, determined to confront my father. It is then that I found he was finally successful. He finally managed the dream. He moved up to the Upper City. And so, I trudged to the Upper City, to find and confront the bastard. Once there, I found I would soon have to wait. The bitch Olladra beat me to the punch. Fortune and Misfortune, Olladra you cunning whore. As soon as he moved into his new shop in the Upper City, a mere week had passed, a crossbeam collapsed within the workshop and crushed my father's head. As it were, the City itself had claimed ownership of his estate, at least until an heir came forth to claim it. The Order had dug its claws into me for far too long, it would seem, and after I moved to claim my inheritence, I was left with a fraction of my father's wealth. Fees, taxes, interest, all the wonderful aspects of bureaucracy all took their 'fair' share. Indeed, even the Order managed to wrangle some away, as his patron religion, they deserved a cut. They further collected more, to cover my tuition, room and board. However, even the small amount that I was left with, I had in my possession, more wealth than most would ever hope to attain. At first there were those that wondered if I would continue in my father's business, as I was certainly as skilled as he... But I had no interest in such a thing. I also hated my life, my father, the Order that educated me, and I especially hated the Goddess that claimed me. So I disappeared, taking that wealth and what I could carry with me upon my back.
The Vagabond, 989YK-993YK
It is surprisingly easy to disappear once one finds their way down to the Lower City. After all, the problems of the wealthy do not extend to the destitute poor of the lowest level of Sharn. Indeed, those entitled, pompous asses noses wrinkle up at the thought of the Lower City's existence. It was quite easy to leave my old life behind once I made it down there. At first I simply laid low, spending catiously from my own store of wealth. Ensuring that wealth was kept secret as well, for in the Lower City, even the kindly innkeeper struggles and is not above sifting through the belongings of his tenants. One cannot fault him, though, for he likely would starve and die, and be unable to get by if he did not manage to gain the occasional boost from ill-gotten gains. And should he perish, then the tenants would lose the roof over their head, as the thugs and debtors would move in to claim the property. Kicking out its tenants, or raising rents to exorbitant rates, that the normal tenant of the Lower City could never hope to afford, so they would put themselves in debt to these legalized brigands. It is truly a dire situation down below, life hangs by a thread. Of course, the wealthy of the higher strata have no idea of this poor existence down here. It is better for them that way, gods forbid they need to worry about the lives of those beneath them, both figuratively and literally. Sharn truly was a wonderful place for that style of thinking. Those that were figuratively beneath you were also literally beneath you. A powerful and wealthy man with a massive ego would do well to live in Sharn, it is the perfect place for him. I quickly found that the gold pieces I carried upon my being drew too much attention, so I traded a few away, at poor exchange rates, to the few honest coin exchanges I could find. They had to make a buck too, after all, and took up unskilled work here and there to suppliment what income I could find. I managed to hide successfully for quite some time...
It is surprisingly easy to disappear once one finds their way down to the Lower City. After all, the problems of the wealthy do not extend to the destitute poor of the lowest level of Sharn. Indeed, those entitled, pompous asses noses wrinkle up at the thought of the Lower City's existence. It was quite easy to leave my old life behind once I made it down there. At first I simply laid low, spending catiously from my own store of wealth. Ensuring that wealth was kept secret as well, for in the Lower City, even the kindly innkeeper struggles and is not above sifting through the belongings of his tenants. One cannot fault him, though, for he likely would starve and die, and be unable to get by if he did not manage to gain the occasional boost from ill-gotten gains. And should he perish, then the tenants would lose the roof over their head, as the thugs and debtors would move in to claim the property. Kicking out its tenants, or raising rents to exorbitant rates, that the normal tenant of the Lower City could never hope to afford, so they would put themselves in debt to these legalized brigands. It is truly a dire situation down below, life hangs by a thread. Of course, the wealthy of the higher strata have no idea of this poor existence down here. It is better for them that way, gods forbid they need to worry about the lives of those beneath them, both figuratively and literally. Sharn truly was a wonderful place for that style of thinking. Those that were figuratively beneath you were also literally beneath you. A powerful and wealthy man with a massive ego would do well to live in Sharn, it is the perfect place for him. I quickly found that the gold pieces I carried upon my being drew too much attention, so I traded a few away, at poor exchange rates, to the few honest coin exchanges I could find. They had to make a buck too, after all, and took up unskilled work here and there to suppliment what income I could find. I managed to hide successfully for quite some time...
The Bitch, 994YK-996YK
Ah, alas, all good things must come to an end. That bitch of a Goddess simply could not leave well enough alone. After all, did she not make a bargain with my mother and father? She was to gain a tool, and they were to gain wealth. She had delivered, my father died a very, very wealthy man. Now it was time for her to collect that tool, and use it as she saw fit. While you can hide, successfully, from the higher levels of Sharn within the Lower City, you simply cannot hide from a Goddess. Olladra, that Goddess of Fortune and Misfortune, was more than able to find me. At first, her attempted imposition of her will was mild. I found myself doing a few things without real thought or reason. Taking on a job at a merchantman's shop. Using my skills as a bowyer to enrich his business. I was truly a godsend to the man, pulling him from the dregs of near-starvation, to some modicum of success. After all, an effective bow is a necessity for those scrounging whatever they could to eat and live. Rat stew was quite popular. Unfortunately, the merchantman did not know how to cope with his success, nor did he have a son to beat upon like my father. He took to gambling, where his fortune took a turn for the worst. He was found a few weeks later, his throat cut from ear to ear, and his shop trashed, for all of his coin had been lost. I found the shrine he had built to Olladra, and the few scraps of paper in which he had prayed for fortune, each older than the last. In fact, they stopped coming as begging for fortune, and became thanks given for fortune roughly around the time I arrived in his employ. And quickly switched to begging for more, when he debts spiraled out of control. Fortune and Misfortune, Olladra you bitch. I realized then, that I had been used. I also found I was not alone, as some of the lower levels of brigands had decided to see what they could scroune within the shop. I was soon beaten savagely by them, upon discovering their activities. Unfortunately, they were too cowardly to end my life. I would have welcomed it. So, I patched up my wounds, just as I did when a child, and decided I would make sure Olladra would never use me again. I found the bottle, the same mistress of my father, and oh did she have a seductive kiss...
Ah, alas, all good things must come to an end. That bitch of a Goddess simply could not leave well enough alone. After all, did she not make a bargain with my mother and father? She was to gain a tool, and they were to gain wealth. She had delivered, my father died a very, very wealthy man. Now it was time for her to collect that tool, and use it as she saw fit. While you can hide, successfully, from the higher levels of Sharn within the Lower City, you simply cannot hide from a Goddess. Olladra, that Goddess of Fortune and Misfortune, was more than able to find me. At first, her attempted imposition of her will was mild. I found myself doing a few things without real thought or reason. Taking on a job at a merchantman's shop. Using my skills as a bowyer to enrich his business. I was truly a godsend to the man, pulling him from the dregs of near-starvation, to some modicum of success. After all, an effective bow is a necessity for those scrounging whatever they could to eat and live. Rat stew was quite popular. Unfortunately, the merchantman did not know how to cope with his success, nor did he have a son to beat upon like my father. He took to gambling, where his fortune took a turn for the worst. He was found a few weeks later, his throat cut from ear to ear, and his shop trashed, for all of his coin had been lost. I found the shrine he had built to Olladra, and the few scraps of paper in which he had prayed for fortune, each older than the last. In fact, they stopped coming as begging for fortune, and became thanks given for fortune roughly around the time I arrived in his employ. And quickly switched to begging for more, when he debts spiraled out of control. Fortune and Misfortune, Olladra you bitch. I realized then, that I had been used. I also found I was not alone, as some of the lower levels of brigands had decided to see what they could scroune within the shop. I was soon beaten savagely by them, upon discovering their activities. Unfortunately, they were too cowardly to end my life. I would have welcomed it. So, I patched up my wounds, just as I did when a child, and decided I would make sure Olladra would never use me again. I found the bottle, the same mistress of my father, and oh did she have a seductive kiss...
The Bottle, Sypheros 996-Olarune 998YK
Drinking helps. Drinking helps a lot. Olladra flailed at my mind, at my soul, in impotent rage. When the vessel of your will is too piss drunk to even lift its head from the table, all of the control in the world that you exert upon it does no good. Not even a Goddess can force a mortal body to move, when it physically cannot. In those few moments of sobriety that I maintained, I was paralyzed by the after effects of the alcohol consumed. That pain, hangovers I believe they were called, dwarfed even the influence of the Goddess Olladra. And so, I found a happy cycle for myself. That bitch could not exert her will upon me, and I found that I thoroughly enjoyed drinking. As well, I managed to be well enough off to quite literally have enough money to drink myself to death over a thousand times over. The issue then became though, maintaining my anonymity. When drunk, one tends to boast, and show off. I soon began to express some of the gifts that Olladra had given me. Provoking a large thug to beat me, only for me to heal myself and bounce right back up, asking for more. Conjuring water, turning it to alcohol far smoother than could be purchased in all of Sharn, and sharing with any near me when I burned through the coins I had on my person. Indeed, I found that I was exposing myself, figuratively and on one particularly drunken night, quite literally. Olladra, found her grip upon her favored tool slick and unsure. I enjoyed this time thoroughly. Alcohol soon became my new love, my own Goddess, one whose power over my soul was far greater than Olladra could ever hope to have.
Drinking helps. Drinking helps a lot. Olladra flailed at my mind, at my soul, in impotent rage. When the vessel of your will is too piss drunk to even lift its head from the table, all of the control in the world that you exert upon it does no good. Not even a Goddess can force a mortal body to move, when it physically cannot. In those few moments of sobriety that I maintained, I was paralyzed by the after effects of the alcohol consumed. That pain, hangovers I believe they were called, dwarfed even the influence of the Goddess Olladra. And so, I found a happy cycle for myself. That bitch could not exert her will upon me, and I found that I thoroughly enjoyed drinking. As well, I managed to be well enough off to quite literally have enough money to drink myself to death over a thousand times over. The issue then became though, maintaining my anonymity. When drunk, one tends to boast, and show off. I soon began to express some of the gifts that Olladra had given me. Provoking a large thug to beat me, only for me to heal myself and bounce right back up, asking for more. Conjuring water, turning it to alcohol far smoother than could be purchased in all of Sharn, and sharing with any near me when I burned through the coins I had on my person. Indeed, I found that I was exposing myself, figuratively and on one particularly drunken night, quite literally. Olladra, found her grip upon her favored tool slick and unsure. I enjoyed this time thoroughly. Alcohol soon became my new love, my own Goddess, one whose power over my soul was far greater than Olladra could ever hope to have.
The Witness, Vult 998YK
These last few months in the Lower City have been particularly brutal. Trade has dried up as the City of Sharn, the shit ever rolling down hill, decided that the poor should bear the brunt of the costs racked up by the wealthy and powerful. People have begun to starve and die, literally, in the streets. Even in my drunken stupors, I have found pity for these poor, unfortunate souls. Fortune and Misfortune, Olladra, you sinister bitch, has certainly found root in the Lower City. Misfortune unleashed, upon those that I would hide myself within. Olladra, is this your plan? To reclaim your tool by killing all that he would mask himself with? I shall bear witness then, Olladra, to your tyranny. I will make note so that all know of your treacherous deeds. You proclaim goodness, counting yourself upon the pantheon of good... And yet, you punish these poor souls of the Lower City of Sharn. Spreading pestilence upon their crops, sending trade from their hands, forcing them to wither and die, just like the food that would sustain them. You belong among the Six, you fickle bitch. I will now bear witness, to your fickle nature, to all that you have wrought. I am no hero, I am no villain. I am a witness, and you, Olladra, will learn to fear that. Even through my drunken haze, my thoughts are ever so clear, on what I must do. I feel you, Olladra, impotently wailing upon this shield I have built within my mind. I smile at the misfortune you now find yourself a victim of. It is bittersweet, Olladra, that you would taste your own power... I will see that you choke upon it.
These last few months in the Lower City have been particularly brutal. Trade has dried up as the City of Sharn, the shit ever rolling down hill, decided that the poor should bear the brunt of the costs racked up by the wealthy and powerful. People have begun to starve and die, literally, in the streets. Even in my drunken stupors, I have found pity for these poor, unfortunate souls. Fortune and Misfortune, Olladra, you sinister bitch, has certainly found root in the Lower City. Misfortune unleashed, upon those that I would hide myself within. Olladra, is this your plan? To reclaim your tool by killing all that he would mask himself with? I shall bear witness then, Olladra, to your tyranny. I will make note so that all know of your treacherous deeds. You proclaim goodness, counting yourself upon the pantheon of good... And yet, you punish these poor souls of the Lower City of Sharn. Spreading pestilence upon their crops, sending trade from their hands, forcing them to wither and die, just like the food that would sustain them. You belong among the Six, you fickle bitch. I will now bear witness, to your fickle nature, to all that you have wrought. I am no hero, I am no villain. I am a witness, and you, Olladra, will learn to fear that. Even through my drunken haze, my thoughts are ever so clear, on what I must do. I feel you, Olladra, impotently wailing upon this shield I have built within my mind. I smile at the misfortune you now find yourself a victim of. It is bittersweet, Olladra, that you would taste your own power... I will see that you choke upon it.