News:

SMF - Just Installed!

Main Menu

Recent posts

#1
Lantan. / Re: Depths of Deception.
Last post by Phineas - Today at 12:02 AM
<<responding to Sergeant Ironclamp>>

"I agree, Sergeant, he will definitely NOT want to be disturbed and NO, I will not make you regret it. I want to know why those things are here, too. Damn, that is infuriating and frustrating."

Looking around at everything   ...  "Well, let's get cleaned up and have something to eat and drink, it's almost dinner time."
#2
Nimbral. / Re: The Siren's Call.
Last post by LorenniaNailo - Yesterday at 08:25 PM
Having started nice and early, I manage to get back to the sandbar at low tide this time, and it seems I was largely correct - there's a few gaps to jump across, but otherwise the sandbar extends all the way across the channel.  The footing is a bit more treacherous this time, as the rocks in the middle are slick, but I easily manage.  I even manage to get to the other side before the sun rises, and am treated to a brilliant sunrise visible all the way down the channel.

The mist quickly starts to dissipate once the sun is up, and the cool southwestern breeze over the salt marsh is just what I need to make the miles fall behind.  It's probably five hours before I stop for lunch and a quick nap, the warm sun making me a bit sleepy.

I am woken up by something indefinable, maybe a scent on the wind.  Unfortunately, I picked a bad place (and time) to sleep, as there is nothing around to make much noise - as I found out to be staring at twenty - twenty! - human teens and young adults, all dressed as though they were pretending to be bandits.  I said, far more calmly than I felt, "Tell you what.  You leave, and I'll go back to sleep and pretend this never happened."

Then the inevitable counter-offer.  "Give us your gold, and maybe we'll think about letting you live."

I laughed and flapped my nearly-empty coin pouch at them.  "You hear a lot of jingling in there, kid?"  I only have a couple of coins, so I hear one muted clink.  "You're wasting your time.  Go bother somebody else."

It was abundantly clear that, whatever life lessons this kid had learned, they most definitely did not include how to back down.  "Give us everything you got, and maybe we'll think about letting you live."

As I roll smoothly to my feet, the kid's flinch indicates he wasn't aware just how bad an idea this was.  "I gave you two chances to leave, now I'll give you your third - and last - chance."  I raise my voice to ensure everyone can hear me (although unfortunately that causes my voice to crack, ruining much of the intimidation I was going for).  "Anyone stupid enough to attack me, dies.  Everyone else gets to keep breathing."  Inside, I'm not nearly as calm - twenty-to-one odds are so bad that I'm pretty much doomed and it's only a question of how many I can take down with me.  The leader and his three nearest henchmen draw blackjacks - great, they want a prisoner now - and rush to the attack faster than I was expecting.  One of them even manages to crack me on the head as I try to dodge the other three, and I see stars for a moment.  Taking a quick step around one of the others, I drive an elbow into his back, feeling the crack of a broken vertebra as he goes down like a sack of lead weights.  Three at a time are much easier to dodge, and I drive one kid's nose so far up into his face that he just drops lifeless to the sand.  Two of these inexperienced kids against a hardened champion gladiator is no contest, and soon all four of them are dead or dying.  That's when the screams begin.

"Timmy, nooo!"

"Murderer!"

"That was my brother!"

Sonova crap.

Six of them draw blades and rush in from all directions, swinging wildly.  Their blades are sharp, if not swung with expertise or power, and I get my clothes cut up pretty badly with how hard it is to completely dodge their inexpert attacks.  It's not easy, and I have to devote my entire concentration to fending off their attacks while methodically driving each one out of the fight, but eventually, after a minute and a half of hard fighting, I stand alone among the huddled corpses.  Breathing hard and clutching a deep gash across my chest, I snarl, "Are we done here?"

In answer, yet another kid hefts a crossbow, screaming incoherently.  Kicking up a knife from the corpse in front of me, I grab it out of midair and hurl it right between the kid's eyes.

The kid's shot goes wide, and I hear a faint "oof" from behind me.  The boy behind me has the crossbow bolt sticking right out of his chest and is fading fast.  I'd like to say I make a reasoned decision here, but I don't - I step over, catch him, pull out the bolt, and use my only healing spell to save the stupid kid's life instead of sealing up my own cuts.  I look at the next closest kid - a terrified girl who can barely keep the sword in her hands, let alone pointed towards me.  "I had better not regret this," I growl.  "One more of you tries to attack me and all of you will die.  I'm done playing around."  Almost immediately I hear a tussle behind me as two kids tackle a third.  Standing up slowly so as not to startle anyone into doing something (even more) stupid, I give these thoroughly cowed kids their marching orders.  "Stay within twenty yards of this tree," I point to the closest little scrub tree, "until it's shadow touches him."  I point to the kid whose life I just saved; it should be three or four hours until then.  "Anyone leaves that twenty-yard circle, they die.  Anyone that gets away before the shadow touches him, I will track you down and kill - not just you, but anyone who gives you shelter too.  And if I ever find any of you attacking travellers again, I'll string you up by your entrails and let the crows feast on them while you're still alive."

********************************************

I honestly didn't expect to walk out of there, but somehow that's exactly what I do, the deep cut on my chest still bleeding into my shredded tunic.  About a quarter mile later, I stop at an old trailside chapel to bandage myself up and thank the gods for my undershirt, which is all that keeps me decent now that the tunic is largely scraps.

<Would you really have killed them all?>  Anne apparently decides now is a good time to show up.

I answer without hesitation.  "Yes."

<Why?>

"Because that's the only way they'll learn."

<How are they supposed to learn if they're dead?>

I open my mouth for a quick retort, then realize it's not helpful.  Turning away from her (not that it makes a difference), I struggle to figure out why.  After a minute in silence, I finally mutter, "I saw what their friendships were doing to them.  I had to make them see that they stood to lose even more if they kept it up."

<That explains the threat, but not the follow-through.>

"Ugh.  Just leave me alone."  Fortunately she does, as I clearly do not want to talk about it.  Then my ears perk up.  "Wait."  There's a slight, but noticeable, echo in here - at odds with what would be expected for such a small chapel.  I start looking around more closely, starting with the stairs down into this place - but there doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary on the stairs, or anything big outside that would reflect the sounds back in.  Coming back down the stairs, I look around the nave of the chapel, with the strong feeling that I'm missing something obvious.  I inspect all eight shrines, the altar, even fire a tipless arrow at the ceiling to check that it's real (it is).  I give up and go back outside, only to think better of it and come back down the stairs - "Wait," I say aloud, my words still echoing strangely, "Where does the rain go?"  I can see the gutters in the floor, letting water flow into them and towards the back of the shrine.  I follow one as it bends around the altar and -

And meets the other one on the far side.  "What?" I ask into the silence.  There's nowhere for the water to go; this place would flood in any serious storm, but these are dry.  After a moment, I pour some water from my waterskin into the gutter to see where it goes.  It flows down the gutter a short way and disappears..."No," I tell myself, not realizing I'm speaking aloud, "It didn't disappear, it flowed through the wall!"  I put my hand on the "wall" and it goes right through; the entire wall behind the altar doesn't even exist.  I poke my head through and see another staircase down further into the earth, with the (now damp) gutter flowing on the left side.  Down the stairs I go, now curious about what else might be down here.

That the gutter sends its runoff into a well is almost disappointingly mundane, but the rest of the room at the bottom of the stairs makes up for it.  Stunning frescoes of dragons, griffons, pegasi, even a nymph standing in a waterfall, all shimmer in the continual flames keeping this place lit.  The frescoes are beautiful enough to keep my attention such that I don't even notice the human sitting unmoving on the floor until he speaks.

"The gutter - such a common object, and only the child and the endlessly curious ask where it leads."  I nearly jump out of my skin.  He continues serenely.  "It is unfortunate how many children lose their sense of wonder when they grow up, but it is beautiful to see someone who has been through so much yet still keeps that sense near to their heart."

"Um.  Thank you?"  I'm at a bit of a loss; I think I should be wary of this man, but that's hard to do when he hasn't moved so much as a hair.

"Hah!  Quick on your feet, too.  Leira must have loved you."

"I doubt it.  I'm not much into lies, or illusions."

"Faugh!  After all this time, no one else has seen the truth?  Oghma has been spreading lies about my Lady for so long that even her own priests can't see her truth.  That is why they named me the Heretic, the Etaoin Shrdlu."

"The what now?"

He laughs.  "A jest, from another world, yet oddly fitting.  But enough about me; you have noticed that something is wrong on this island."

It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway.  "I wouldn't say wrong - it's lovely here - but something doesn't add up.  I can't put my finger on it though."

"I imagine not - though you were born here, you have been gone so long that you are as much an outsider here as anyone.  As much as I."

"Wait, how did you-" I was overruled as he continued.

"Nothing about this place 'adds up', as you so eloquently put it."  He throws out an arm, the first movement he has made.  "Do the Knights ride griffons or pegasi?  Do the people continue to honor Leira by telling minor lies all the time, or did they destroy her temples after her death?  Why do the Nimbral Lords stay in the fortress of their exiled captors?  So little is known of this island, but even the known facts contradict each other or make little sense.  But of course, that is to be expected for Leira's favorite place in Faerûn, as she does not make sense to an outsider either!"  He chuckles.  "Would you like to hear a truth?"

"What do you mean a truth?"

"My, Leira really would have liked you," he laughs.  "You picked up on that right away.  Yes, Oghma would have you believe that there is but one truth.  Objectivist garbage!" he spits.  "If a tree fell in the forest, and nothing was around to hear it, did it make a sound?  The Oghmanyte would tell you yes, of course it did.  Ask him how he knows, and he will tell you that all other trees have made sounds when they fell.  But trees fall in the forest all the time, and this isn't the only tree that was never heard.  Perhaps some, very rare, trees make no sound when they fall, or grow on the ground such that they look like they fell.  How would you know?  And if I told you that, somewhere out there beyond Faerûn, there was a forest where these trees were common, and it was the exceptions that made a sound as they crashed to earth?"  I just stare at him, as his preaching is getting increasingly more weird and detached from reality.  "Oghma denies this, but it has already happened once, in Katashaka."  I twitch as the same name comes up from two days ago.  "Ah, you recognize the name?  Perhaps he hasn't been completely successful then.  Swans."

I'm definitely starting to lose the conversation here.  "Swans?  What-"

"Yes!"  He excitedly interrupts me.  "Swans.  All swans are white, are they not?  Well, except those on the heraldry of a few families scattered across the Realms.  Except, no, they are not.  Centuries ago now, there was an expedition to the lands of Katashaka - and do you know what they found?"  I just stare at him, not really comprehending anymore.  "Black swans."

I give up, and demand, "What does any of this have to do with illusions?"

He cackles.  "It doesn't, and that is the point!  Leira is not, and never has been, a goddess of lies and illusions - that is merely Oghma's interpretation of her portfolio.  Rather, Leira was Oghma's opposite in a completely different fashion - she taught that there is more than one truth.  That her priests must be honest about their truths, which from Oghma's perspective means they lie.  They 'impersonate others' and 'infiltrate places' to experience new perspectives, new truths.  To slice the Whole Sort of General Mish-Mash in a new way."

"Wha- ... wait- ... you- ... but-" I sputter, having completely lost him now.

He continues, ignoring me.  "Oghma's attempts at objectivity allow his priests to distance themselves from the world, categorizing it.  But Leira allowed for subtle access to the roiling chaos of reality, real reality, where everything is subjective and malleable.  And this is what made her an inspiration to artists everywhere.  The End of Creation is no curse, it's a prediction - a prediction of what happens when Oghma's brand of knowledge is allowed to swallow everything else.  On that day, there will be no inspiration, no creativity, because it will all have already been done, you see?"

I do not, and just gape at him in confused silence.

"Unfortunately, Leira's death was prophesied centuries ago, by myself."  He sighs.  "If gods are a disguise, if gods are an illusion, then perhaps Leira was the only beacon of truth in our entire pantheon of lies.  But if gods are real and true and all-knowing, then Leira cannot be a god and must be dead.  But that doesn't mean her efforts must go to waste."  He looks me straight in the eye.  "There is another 'illusion' prophesied centuries ago, that of the Higher Self, one who wants only to become what one is.  The self-created, autonomous, authentic self."  He points right at my heart.  "In your case, one who remembers that her worst days are always going to be behind her, who remembers them but does not let them rule her.  If you wish to become your Higher Self, you never have to worship Leira at all - just find your calling in life and dedicate every fiber of your being to it."

It takes my brain a long time to rappel down into the earth to pick up my jaw again, and in the meantime he simply gets up and walks out of the temple altogether, long before I can marshal my thoughts enough to reply at all.  Eventually, a few minutes after he leaves, I shake my head.  "What in the Hells was that?" I ask myself - but of course there is no answer.

********************************************

I can't help but think about what the crazy man - he said his name was Etaoin Shrdlu, I remind myself - said as I return to Suthhaven.  Most of it was ranting gibberish - or at least seemed to be - but the part at the end at least seemed relevant and important.  A calling is exactly what I've been missing, but I don't even know where to begin looking for one.

Eventually, shortly after it gets dark, I reach the base of Suthhaven.  Having already traveled forty miles, I have no intention of climbing back up to the Maiden's Leap tonight, and instead find a much less reputable inn down at sea level.  The chair I used to "lock" the door came in quite handy as several drunks tried to enter my room overnight, presumably because I had the closest room to the stairs.  Fortunately, none of them made it inside so I didn't have to add to my body count for the day.
#3
Lantan. / Re: Depths of Deception.
Last post by Coyotemoon - Yesterday at 12:39 PM
I would like to go back to looting the bodies.
#4
Calimshan. / Re: Beyond the Horizon.
Last post by Complex_Assault - Yesterday at 10:37 AM
Ghar will stay at a common inn room.
#5
Calimshan. / Re: Beyond the Horizon.
Last post by GameMaster - Yesterday at 05:51 AM
Do you plan to get a room for the night, or brave the city streets?
#6
Lantan. / Re: Depths of Deception.
Last post by GameMaster - Yesterday at 05:45 AM
Etali
The creature was under water and at the very edge of the range of your blast, so you can't see if it hit anything.


Corporal Gearspark
Looking obviously at a loss and completely out of her element, the young Gearspark looks to Ironclamp.  "Sir, protocol suggests..."

Sergeant Ironclamp
"Agreed, Corporal."  He held up his hand to keep Phineas from protesting.  "Go at once to report this directly to Captain Gearlock.  None other, do you understand?  Tell only him, we don't want politics entering into this if it is a threat against Lantan herself.  Do you understand?"

He watched her leave, and then turned back to the group.  "She is going to report it anyway, and Captain Gearlock is right now in bed with the Lady Boltstitch, who a few days ago you would have known as Miss Chainflow... As you can imagine, the Good Captain won't want anyone intruding on his private time with his master's own wife!"

He chuckles without mirth.  "It will buy us some time, perhaps until after next meal, at least..." he looks hard at Phineas, "Don't make me regret it.  Why in the Rusted Hellscape are these things on my island!?"

In response to Etali's question, Ironclamp nods as Phineas explains.
"Sahaugin," he repeats.  "Underwater humanoids.  Evil and viscious, one and all.  Seen them on ships, killing and partaking in debauchery, but never on land itself!"


In response to Kragar's comment, Ironclamp looks at him at first in disgust, and then with deep belly laugh.  "Well, seafood is seafood, I suppose... Though you wouldn't catch me eating the smelly things!"



*"Rusted Hellscape" in fact refers to a layer of The Abyss, which Lantanese despise both for its chaotic nature and the fact that everything there rusts.  Whether it is real or imaginary, the term has found its way into the Lower Common language of Lantan as a very strong curse!
#7
Featherdale. / Re: Shadows Over Blackfeather:...
Last post by GameMaster - Yesterday at 05:15 AM
In the midst of the tense atmosphere, Thur'Ryl's declaration cut through the murmurs like a sharp blade. The villagers turned their eyes to him, seeing not just the forge-hardened craftsman they knew, but a warrior ignited by a quest for justice and a thirst for adventure.

Before the echoes of Thur'Ryl's bold words had faded, a sly, confident voice emerged from an unexpected corner of the square. All eyes shifted to the stockades where a young figure sat, the mischievous glint in their eyes belying their current predicament. This was Lyra, known throughout Blackfeather Bridge as a skilled rogue with a penchant for finding trouble as easily as she found hidden treasures or unlocked the most stubborn locks.

Despite her questionable reputation, Lyra's skills were undeniable. Agile, cunning, and with a knack for moving unseen, she was a thorn in the side of those who crossed her yet a potential asset in times of need.

Old Tom, recognizing the potential in every pair of willing hands, especially those as adept as Lyra's, stepped forward once more. "I know what you're thinking," he addressed the villagers, his gaze resting momentarily on Lyra before sweeping across the crowd. "Lyra here has caused her fair share of mischief, no doubt. But she's one of us, a child of Blackfeather Bridge, and she's got skills we need. Skills honed not in the light of day but in the shadows where goblins lurk."

He walked closer to the stockades, his voice firm yet imbued with a persuasive warmth. "This is a chance for redemption, a chance for Lyra to use her unique talents for the good of us all. We're not just fighting goblins; we're outsmarting them, rescuing a creature of pure magic. And for that, we need every ally, every skill, every advantage we can muster. Let's give her the opportunity to fight for her home, to prove that the skills she's used to defy us can also be used to protect us."

The villagers exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of skepticism and contemplation. The situation was dire, and Old Tom's words resonated with a hard truth: in the face of darkness, every light, no matter how small or flickering, was vital.

As the villagers murmured among themselves, weighing Old Tom's proposition and Kyra's plea, Mayor Eldwin, a wise and measured leader respected by the community, stepped forward. His presence commanded a calm silence, and all eyes turned to him, awaiting his judgment.

"Good people of Blackfeather Bridge," Mayor Eldwin began, his voice carrying a reassuring steadiness, "we find ourselves at a crossroads, not just of paths but of principles. Kyra, though her past may be checkered with mischief and misdeeds, is still one of our own. Who among us hasn't yearned for a chance at redemption? For an opportunity to right the wrongs of our past?"

He turned to look at Kyra, his gaze not condemning but understanding. "Kyra has skills that are indispensable to this mission. Skills that, until now, we've seen only as a nuisance. But in these trying times, they could be our greatest asset. Her knowledge of stealth, her agility, and her sharp mind can make the difference between success and failure."

Eldwin's gaze swept back to the gathered villagers. "Let us not be blinded by past grievances but look to the future and the greater good. In allowing Kyra to join this mission, we're not just giving her a chance at redemption; we're strengthening our chances of bringing our beloved unicorn home."

He paused, allowing his words to resonate with the villagers. "I say we unlock those stockades and allow Kyra to stand with Thur'Ryl and any others brave enough to embark on this quest. Together, they represent the best of us—courage, skill, and the capacity for change."

The villagers, influenced by Mayor Eldwin's words, began to nod in agreement, their initial reservations giving way to a sense of unity and purpose. The mayor motioned to the guard, who approached the stockades with keys in hand.

As the lock clicked open and Kyra stepped out, a sense of renewed hope filled the air. Not just for the mission ahead, but for the village itself, demonstrating a belief in second chances and the collective strength of its people.

"Thank you," Kyra said, her voice tinged with a rare sincerity, as she glanced at the mayor, then at the villagers, and finally at Thur'Ryl. "I won't let you down."

With that, the assembly dispersed, not as a crowd of worried individuals, but as a community united in a common cause, each person playing a part in the unfolding story of courage, redemption, and the fight against encroaching darkness.

Old Tom nodded at Kyra's declaration, his gaze shifting to Thur'Ryl, who stood with a resolute posture, his own readiness evident. The old ranger then addressed both of them, ensuring their collective preparedness.

"Thur'Ryl, Kyra," Tom began, his voice steady, "Our journey is fraught with peril, and haste is essential. But haste without preparation can lead to downfall. Do you need to gather anything, or are you prepared to embark on this quest?"

"Nope," Kyra said, looking back nervously.  "Ready to go immediately.  Like, right now, actually..."
#8
Featherdale. / Re: Shadows Over Blackfeather:...
Last post by SirWheelzALot - Mar 25, 2024, 05:50 PM
Thur'Ryl steps forward and speaks. "If ye be leadn' the way, me mace be more than willin' to be polished by goblin blood. When we leavin?."
Thur'Ryl Umz'Min couldn't help but get a little excited. The thought of smashing a goblin's skull after what had happened to his adopted father, Meric. An adventure, a beginning, a chance. May many goblins lay dead, on the road to the rescue of a beautiful unicorn.
#9
Lantan. / Re: Depths of Deception.
Last post by Kragar - Mar 24, 2024, 10:46 AM
Seeing no immediate danger, I sheathe my sword.  "Sahaugin.  They also like to attack ships.  They don't taste good, unless cooked and seasoned, properly."
#10
Character Creation. / Willow
Last post by Phineas - Mar 24, 2024, 01:29 AM
Willow                          Warlock                                 Half-Elf

ST     : 12 : +1               Level         : 10                       Sex      :      F      Age     : 32
DX    : 18 : +4               Defense     : 20                      Ht        :    68"     Wt      : 135#
CN    : 16 : +3              Hit Points   : 72                      Hair     : Black/Silver
IN     : 18 : +4              Alignment  : NN                     Eyes    : Prismatic
WS   : 18 : +4               Deity         : Prometheus        Skin    : Tan
CH    : 18 : +4              Speed        : 30                       Tattoo : Tears, Chains       

Defense    :      20    = 10+4[dx]+2[ar]+4[ma]            Initiative    : +8    = 4[dx]+4[ii]

Base Attack        : +7/+2                                            Saves
Attack (melee)        : +8    = 7[base]+1[st]                Fortitude    : +6    = 3[base]+3[cn]
Attack (missile)       : +11    = 7[base]+4[dx]             Reflex        : +11    = 7[base]+4[dx]
Grapple check        : +8    = 7[base]+1[st]                 Will        : +11    = 7[base]+4[ws]

Talents
Eldritch Blast (D4/Lvl)                 Eschew Materials        Summon Outsider            Damage Reduction (DR : 15)
Awakened Mind (TP/30')            Entropic Ward            Thought Shield                 Energy Resist (ER : 15)
Low Light Vision

Feats : 8
Exotic Wpn Proficiency                 Still Spell                       Silent Spell            Two Wpn Fight
Improved Unarmed Strike            Improved Initiative       Quicken Spell         Innate Spell : Fire Bolt       

Patron        : Great Old One : the Chained One : Tharizdun/Prometheus

School        : Universal                DC : 10 + Cha Mod + Spell Lvl           

Weapon        Damage      Critical    Range      Bonus        Special   
Chain Whip        D8             20          -               +2             =
Sickle                 D4          19-20        -               +2             = (2)
Lt Crossbow       D8            20          80             +2              =
Bolts                                                                                     = (silvered)

Armor        Type      Defense      Penalty      Speed    Max Dex    Special   
Leather        Lt            +2                 -               -              -           #


Skills (4 + Int Mod)        Skill Points : 104               
Skill Name          Key Ability          Skill Modifier          Ability Modifier          Ranks              Misc. Modifier
Athlete                 ST                         6    =                          +1                         +5
Bluff                     CH                        6    =                          +4                         +2
Concentration      CN                       7    =                           +3                        +4                 
Craft : Ltrwrk         IN                        8    =                          +4                         +4
Decipher Script     IN                        8    =                          +4                         +4
Diplomacy            CH                       8    =                          +4                         +4   
Handle  Animal    CH                       8    =                          +4                          +4   
Intimidate            CH                       6    =                          +4                          +2                   
Know : Arc            IN                     17    =                           +4                         +13       
            : Dun         IN                       8    =                          +4                          +4
            : Eng         IN                        8    =                          +4                          +4           
            : Geo         IN                       8    =                          +4                           +4       
            : History    IN                       8    =                          +4                           +4
            : Law         IN                       8    =                           +4                          +4
            : Local       IN                       8    =                           +4                          +4
            : Nature    IN                       8    =                           +4                          +4
            : Noble     IN                       8    =                           +4                          +4
            : Planes     IN                     10    =                           +4                          +6
            : Rel          IN                       8    =                           +4                          +4
            : Tactics    IN                       8    =                            +4                          +4
Linguistics            IN                       8    =                           +4                          +4
Perception            WS                   17    =                           +4                          +13
Profession            WS                      5    =                          +4                          +1       
Ride                      DX                      8    =                          +4                          +4
Sense Motive       WS                      8    =                          +4                          +4
Spellcraft              IN                     10    =                          +4                          +6
Stealth                  DX                    10    =                          +4                          +6
Survival                WS                    10    =                          +4                          +6

Languages :   8   : Common Elven, Gnome, Dwarven, Draconian, Primordial

Experience    : 50000

Spell Bonus    : 2-1L,2-2L, 1-3L, 1-4L
Spells        : *-0L, 5-1L, 4-2L, 3-3L, 3-4L, 2-5L

Expanded Spells
Level        Spells
    1        dissonant whispers, Tasha's hideous laughter
    2        detect thoughts, phantasmal force
    3        clairvoyance, sending
    4        dominate beast, Evard's black tentacles
    5        dominate person, telekinesis

Equipment
Backpack            : 1         
Bedroll                    : 1         Belt pouch      : L/1, S/5   Whetstone       : 1
Rope (silk)           : 50'         Grappling hook : 1         Climbing hammer    : 1
Piton spikes            : 10         Waterskin      : 1         Rations, trail       : 1 wk
Flint/steel            : 1         Torches              : 5         Oil                  : 5 vials
Journal(3 x 5)            : 1         Writing tools      : 1 set
Fishing Hooks    : 10         Fishing Line      : 50'
Military Saddle   : 1         Saddle Bags     : 1         Tarp (10'x10')   : 1         

Familiar : Spirit Cat : Ghost
ST : 10/+0, DX : 18/+4, CN : 10/+0, IN : 10/+0, WS : 12/+1, CH : 10/+0;    
HD : 10                                        HP : 36
Attack       : +11 (2 claw, 1 bite)      Damage : D2 (claw), D3 (bite)
Defense            : 21 = 10 +4[dx]+5[na]+2[sz]
Speed      : 30
Saving Throws   : Fort : +3, Ref : +11, Will : +8
Initiative           : +4
Skills      : Acrobat(+12), Athlete(+8), Perception(+5), Stealth(+14)
Feats      : Alertness, Improved Evasion, Wpn Finesse (claw)
Special      : Energy Resist (ER : 10), Damage Reduce (DR : 5), Spell Resist (SR : 15), Darkvision, Smite (1/D, +10 pts), Empathic Link,
                          Speak w/Master, Deliver touch spells, Etherealness
Color      : Silver

Mount : Light Warhorse : Buttercup
ST : 16/+3, DX : 16/+3, CN : 16/+3, IN : 10/+0, WS : 12/+1, CH : 10/+0;
HD : 3D8 +9                        HP : 30
Attack       : +7 (2 hoof, 1 bite)      Damage : D4+3 (hoof), D3+1 (bite)
Defense            : 16 = 10+3[dx]+4[na]-1[sz]
Speed      : 60
Saving Throws   : Fort : +6, Ref : +4, Will : +2
Initiative           : +3
Skills      : Perception (+5)
Feats      : Endurance, Run
Special      : Lowlight Vision, Scent
Color      : Golden Yellow


          Willow is the only name that she goes by, no one but her family (which is virtually non-existent) and her Patron knows her real name. She grew up in a small mountainous village mostly inhabited by humans and a few wood elves. Her father was elven and her mother was human, the relationship was frowned upon by both families; as the humans and the elves were fairly segregated. As she was growing up, Willow endured a cacophony of verbal and physical abuse from various sources, mostly the children of both races but the occasional adult would join in verbally (or rarely stopped the children from beating on her). Her parents did their best to mitigate the problem but were mostly unsuccessful, except for patching up her injuries and keeping her home as much as possible. At age 5, her father built their family a house on the edge of town where they could live with minimal contact with the residents.  At age 12, Willow ran away; she had a small pack with food, clothing and a blanket. She had no idea where she wanted to go but she knew that she could not endure any more abuse. She made her way up into an obscure moutain pass that led to a series of caves, it was there that she met Riktalf, a rock gnome warlock. He became her mentor and taught her the way of magic, giving her an introduction to the upper realms. After eight years, she completed her studies with Riktalf and as a departing gift, he gave her two things; a map of the caves, tunnels and caverns and a piece of chain that he said was from the original chain that held her Patron. She decided to return home but when  she returned to her father's house, she found that her mother had died and her father moved back to the elven side of town, their house was trashed. She went into town, found the old blacksmith and had him make her an unusual weapon from the piece of metal chain that she had. While in town, she encountered one of her old tormentors in the general store, as she was shopping for supplies. The boy, now a young man, did not recognize her, she had changed quite a bit but she knew him. Her ears and hair was hidden by a scarf, a strand  of silver hair came out the right side, she had a series of visible tattoos, a pair of tear streaks under her eyes and a diamond- shaped chain on her forehead. The young man began to flirt with her but she rebuffed him quietly and a plan formulated in her mind.  Using one of her newly found abilities granted to her, she put a thought in his head to find her sometime that night at the inn/tavern. At the inn, she flirted back to him and set a charm on him (which he didn't resist). He followed her out to the nearby woods and she tied him to a tree and lashed him to death. Her new weapon was a chain whip and he was the first one she used it on. The young man did not survive the encounter, she left a very potent message pinned to him stating that revenge never forgets and rarely forgives; signed with her old name. She, then totally vanished from the area, never to return; leaving them to wonder about her possible retribution.
          Willow, using her maps, found a place to call her own. It was close enough to a town that was predominantly dwarven, where she could do some trading for basic supplies and news of the outside world. She has since, wandered the world collecting various (generally obscure) arcane texts, books, maps, etc and returning them to her mountain cave/stronghold/keep.
          Willows has extreme distrust of humans and elves, due to her childhood trauma. She reacts favorably to gnomes and kobolds (one of the close communities to her and Riktalf was a clan of kobolds), she's fairly friendly with dwarves and tolerates all other races.