Rags to Ithilmar. The Quest of an Asur Commoner.
- Thread starter Mayto
- Start date
- Mature Fantasy
Sir_Travelsalot
Never wakes up tired.
- Location
- At Home
[X] Plan: Winning Friends and Taking Hearts (Literally)
[X] Plan Not an Edgy Elf, Promise
[X] Plan Not an Edgy Elf, Promise
The Drug use one is the 'relatively normal and casual vice' by elf standards. Few story beats, but less chance it could ever go bad.
My thoughts exactly, yeah. And the potential for things to go bad, or having to work through and solve/confront your issues is part of what makes a story interesting - informing character dynamics and presenting a problem that questers have to solve, rather than just something that can be (mostly) ignored.
Essentially, there's more fun to be had in Blood or Lust from a player perspective, at least in my view.
- Location
- United States
[X] Plan Not an Edgy Elf, Promise
- Location
- ireland
[X] Plan: Winning Friends and Taking Hearts (Literally)
- Location
- PA
Hrrrm...
Okay so. Maybe it's early in the quest to do omakes and desire them to be canon, but I'm looking at the characters of the Highest Archer and Winning Friends and Taking Hearts...And I'm kind of thinking to myself:
Why not both?
Cue the Omake to show what I'm thinking of, in terms of character dynamic:
You frown, and look down at your pipe. On the one hand, you're burning through it too fast, and you can already tell your mind is having to march through misty bogs and foggy swamps as is. Yes, your hand is shaking, but you can tell that's just from your nerves, but then again, she always was the better fighter, and you're pretty sure it's that time of month when she-
The door opens, and there she is. Your sister, the one you're here to talk to, and the reason you're so nervous.
"Dear sister, could we talk?" You say, internally frowning at how your words are slurring a little. Definitely burning through the pipe too fast.
She smiles and says "Of course!", and walks over to the seat opposite you. She sounds happier then normal, but is she having a good day, or is she-
"I suppose this battle was coming for awhile now, but how long have you been preparing for this?"
She sees right through you, like you're as transparent as the smoke wafting about you.
"S-since Tiranoc. I didn't think too much of it then, but you keep going on these trips..."
"Trips that are completely necessary, mind you! Did not venerable Searwing himself thank me for disposing of that rabble approaching his lair?"
"He did, but Sister-"
"I could just as easily say something about your habits, but I don't. I understand, I might be easily called the braver of us two, but that doesn't mean you don't have your talents, even if you require the cover of smoke to advance despite your unsteady morale."
"Listen to you! You've not been the SAME since then! You always pepper your speech with talk of wars and battle, like you never left those plains! I know how much I smoke. I know how much I should. I'm working on it! But you...Last time you didn't even clean that bloody mace of yours. Literally bloody from who knows what dripping on our carpet! You know better then to leave a weapon uncleaned for so long!"
"Dripping...? Oh! That was actually Druchii blood that time. They might have been thinking they could get themselves a five-fingered discount but they didn't bargain for the battle they recieved for it. But I must ask, is there anything else?"
"Anything else? You don't smile like you used to, you don't laugh as loudly, not unless you're thinking of sometime you killed something, or are fresh off a battle! I worry for you. There's only so long before your luck runs out, like-"
"Amennathar wasn't your fault, sister. You couldn't have stopped that Bestigor charge all by your lonesome, now could you?"
She leans forward, and places a hand on your knee, and just that contact, is enough to still the tremors echoing through your form. You sigh, feeling yourself deflate, the embers in your pipe burn out. But are gratified to see the concern in her eyes, and the care of her touch.
"I've already made arrangements, but perhaps...Perhaps you are right, and I have had too much of Khaine's attention as of late. Perhaps we could forge something together, like when Father was teaching us instead?"
It's...Maybe not what you would have hoped for, but it'll have to do. You smile, and nod.
Okay so. Maybe it's early in the quest to do omakes and desire them to be canon, but I'm looking at the characters of the Highest Archer and Winning Friends and Taking Hearts...And I'm kind of thinking to myself:
Why not both?
Cue the Omake to show what I'm thinking of, in terms of character dynamic:
You frown, and look down at your pipe. On the one hand, you're burning through it too fast, and you can already tell your mind is having to march through misty bogs and foggy swamps as is. Yes, your hand is shaking, but you can tell that's just from your nerves, but then again, she always was the better fighter, and you're pretty sure it's that time of month when she-
The door opens, and there she is. Your sister, the one you're here to talk to, and the reason you're so nervous.
"Dear sister, could we talk?" You say, internally frowning at how your words are slurring a little. Definitely burning through the pipe too fast.
She smiles and says "Of course!", and walks over to the seat opposite you. She sounds happier then normal, but is she having a good day, or is she-
"I suppose this battle was coming for awhile now, but how long have you been preparing for this?"
She sees right through you, like you're as transparent as the smoke wafting about you.
"S-since Tiranoc. I didn't think too much of it then, but you keep going on these trips..."
"Trips that are completely necessary, mind you! Did not venerable Searwing himself thank me for disposing of that rabble approaching his lair?"
"He did, but Sister-"
"I could just as easily say something about your habits, but I don't. I understand, I might be easily called the braver of us two, but that doesn't mean you don't have your talents, even if you require the cover of smoke to advance despite your unsteady morale."
"Listen to you! You've not been the SAME since then! You always pepper your speech with talk of wars and battle, like you never left those plains! I know how much I smoke. I know how much I should. I'm working on it! But you...Last time you didn't even clean that bloody mace of yours. Literally bloody from who knows what dripping on our carpet! You know better then to leave a weapon uncleaned for so long!"
"Dripping...? Oh! That was actually Druchii blood that time. They might have been thinking they could get themselves a five-fingered discount but they didn't bargain for the battle they recieved for it. But I must ask, is there anything else?"
"Anything else? You don't smile like you used to, you don't laugh as loudly, not unless you're thinking of sometime you killed something, or are fresh off a battle! I worry for you. There's only so long before your luck runs out, like-"
"Amennathar wasn't your fault, sister. You couldn't have stopped that Bestigor charge all by your lonesome, now could you?"
She leans forward, and places a hand on your knee, and just that contact, is enough to still the tremors echoing through your form. You sigh, feeling yourself deflate, the embers in your pipe burn out. But are gratified to see the concern in her eyes, and the care of her touch.
"I've already made arrangements, but perhaps...Perhaps you are right, and I have had too much of Khaine's attention as of late. Perhaps we could forge something together, like when Father was teaching us instead?"
It's...Maybe not what you would have hoped for, but it'll have to do. You smile, and nod.
- Location
- California
[X] Plan: Winning Friends and Taking Hearts (Literally)
Theunderbolt
"Prepare for trouble..."
- Location
- USoA
[X] Plan: Winning Friends and Taking Hearts (Literally)
[X] Plan Not an Edgy Elf, Promise
[X] Plan Not an Edgy Elf, Promise
Vote closed
- Location
- Netherlands
Its back to Luthien. haha.
- Location
- PA
Fitting for a victory by Khaine, one might say.
jwolfe_beta
Semi Genre-Savvy Overlord
- Location
- Canada
Well hopefully we'll be able to keep this vice under control enough that we won't need to constantly leave Ulthuan find enough humans/dwarfs/orcs/goblins/elves/dark elves etc to kill.
That and Vaul's worshipers (you know, the other smiths) won't get too peeved at us for more or less exalting Khaine (the guy who blinded and enslaved Vaul).
That and Vaul's worshipers (you know, the other smiths) won't get too peeved at us for more or less exalting Khaine (the guy who blinded and enslaved Vaul).
RandomTechPriest
He Who Steals Toasters
You don't have to like Khaine to like to beat the shit out of the odd beastman or few hundred.
jwolfe_beta
Semi Genre-Savvy Overlord
- Location
- Canada
This isn't 'beating the shit out of' anything. The character has a constant urge to murder things, preferably sapient things.
Character Creation Complete.
- Location
- Netherlands
-[X] In the fields of Tiranoc, you first quenched your bloodlust: You were part of a company of archers that patrolled for Druchii slave raids. You rained arrows down upon your foes from afar, racking up a mighty tally.
-[X] To deal with the first Norscan raids of Cothique and Yvresse: You were one of the first Asur to fight against the first great Norscan raids upon the northern shore of Ulthuan. Fighting barbarous raiders that sought to despoil your ancestral homeland.
-[X] Fought to defend the Tower of the Sun: The beastmen of Ind have the heads of tigers, lions, and other exotic beasts of the far east. And many humans of the Land of a Thousand Gods are foolish enough to worship these beasts and leave them be. So when the tower was attacked, you helped slay the Beastmen and drive them away.
-[X] The Phoenix Gate: A cursed fortress, known for being the one destroyed and rebuilt the most often. Few of the people of Caledor voluntarily headed here. But you were willing to do so. This act earned you a reputation of being heroic and perhaps slightly foolhardy.
-[X] The hide of a Lustrian beast: On an expedition to Lustria, you gave the finishing blow to a Horned-One, a breed of Cold One that is considered legendary even by the sages of Ulthuan. The beast shrugged off every arrow fired at it until you put one through its eye.
-[X] To deal with the first Norscan raids of Cothique and Yvresse: You were one of the first Asur to fight against the first great Norscan raids upon the northern shore of Ulthuan. Fighting barbarous raiders that sought to despoil your ancestral homeland.
-[X] Fought to defend the Tower of the Sun: The beastmen of Ind have the heads of tigers, lions, and other exotic beasts of the far east. And many humans of the Land of a Thousand Gods are foolish enough to worship these beasts and leave them be. So when the tower was attacked, you helped slay the Beastmen and drive them away.
-[X] The Phoenix Gate: A cursed fortress, known for being the one destroyed and rebuilt the most often. Few of the people of Caledor voluntarily headed here. But you were willing to do so. This act earned you a reputation of being heroic and perhaps slightly foolhardy.
-[X] The hide of a Lustrian beast: On an expedition to Lustria, you gave the finishing blow to a Horned-One, a breed of Cold One that is considered legendary even by the sages of Ulthuan. The beast shrugged off every arrow fired at it until you put one through its eye.
You stand on the prow of the Eagleship as it approaches the dock of Lothern. The salty sea wind blows through your long black hair as you take off your silvered helmet and clip it to your belt. It has been too long since I was home. You think with a smile.
The Glittering Tower that covers the approach to the Straits of Lothern shines in the dawn twilight, a thousand magical lanterns illuminating the path for Asur sailors. Positioned a mile away from the Straits of Lothern and covering the entirety of the rocky island on which it was built, this tower guards the entrance through the Straits against anything short multiple of the dreaded Black Arks of Naggaroth.
As the ship flows across the water with the ease of a dancer crossing a marble floor, you see that the city is bigger than you remembered. Across the straits, on the eastern banks of the Straits, Lothern has grown in the fifty years she had been absent. When you first visited fifty years ago to take a boat to the Gate, it was still confined to the eastern side of the Straight of Lothern. The walls are bigger than you remember, and they are now layered, each section of walls taller than the last and enclosing an increasingly bustling urban area. Palaces and grand estates rise through Lothern, lit by sorcerous lights.
You can see ships carrying cargoes of spice and exotic drugs from across the trade empire of the Asur making their way through the Emerald Gate, and then the Saphire Gate at the end of the Straights, heading towards the Sea of Dreams to deliver their goods to the cities of Ellyrian, Saphery, and the Court of the Everqueen in Avelorn. You smile as the waves break against the side of the ship. The great lagoon between the straights and the Emerald and Saphire Gates is bustling with activity. The skeleton of a new great harbour and dockyard is being constructed around the lagoon, with space enough for what looks like every trading ship that the Asur had left? A small island in the middle of the Straits of Lothern is a bustle of activity as boats bring marble quarried from the Annuli Mountains to a great plinth upon which two half-built armoured feet are placed.
The great walls that overlook the straits already have a line of sculptures carved into them, each the size of a lesser prince's Palace. These are the Phoenix Kings, each chiselled out of walls built so thick that even with the statues carved from the wall, they'd be wider than any city wall in the world. Work has already begun on Bel-Hathor's statue.
The builders of Lothern were ambitious, that was for sure. Many of the guards at the Phoenix Gate had spoken eagerly about how Lothern would be the greatest city in the world. Instead of the place where the Phoenix King held court. That it would replace Yvresse and Saphery.
When they finished expanding across the straights and expanded the harbour. It would only take a few hundred years to complete the work.
The spearmen aboard the Eagle Ship have packed the few possessions they'd taken with them on their campaign and packed them all away into leather bags that now sat at their feet. Trophies from across the world, proudly taken by even prouder warriors. You prod the bag at your feet with a foot, making sure it is still there. It will be a long ride from Eataine through the countryside of Caledor to the Prince's Palace.
Thoughts flash through your mind as the ship approaches the dock. First, the nobles and highborn of the crew will be heading to banquets and feasts to celebrate their expedition. Then, to return to the dangerous political games of Ulthuan. Let them. You could care less. You'll get off the ship along with the other soldiers and head home immediately.
Will father finally try to betroth me to a husband? I'm a hundred and fifty. Surely, if he was going to arrange something, he would have done so already. So will it be another farmer's son? Some rich merchant who will pay and take care of me? I wouldn't mind that. So long that it isn't someone who puts me to the side and runs off with a mistress.
How is the Prince doing? Your family's wealth is based upon your service to Prince Eltenar's Household. Without him, the Palace will go empty, and the staff shall need to find new homes to work for. The Prince could easily live for another thousand years. But he is a Dragon Prince. And one day, he'll probably end up on the end of a sharp spear. And while your father would find a new Prince to offer services to, you doubt that would be a life you'd choose.
I should become a travelling smith. I'll take a cart, a horse, and I'll travel Ulthuan forging weapons and armour for whoever needs them. At least until I've earned enough to pay for my own workshop. Maybe I could even learn The Art? I could create some amazing weapons if I could bind enchantments into them. Perhaps there's an older mage who would do so in exchange for a small payment and my services as a smith?
Thoughts and ideas intertwine, combine, merge, and then split, forming myriad differing trains of thought and contemplation. Your mind wanders afar on its own as you quietly depart the ship and begin to make your way to Caledor on foot. There's much to think about now that you're finally home.
---
The Anvil of Vaul rumbles in the distance. The great volcano sends out another plume of lava, pumice and noxious fumes even as they are channelled safely out to sea by ancient spells. The remnants of the eruption will be sifted through the moment that the fire has died down, and Priests of Vault will have another supply of gemstones and the additives needed to properly forge their priceless ingots of Ithilmar. You smile as you remember working those same fields, digging up gems and chunks of steel. You grab your bicep, feeling the strongly defined musculature of your arm. You're proud of your raw strength.
Across the valley are farmhouses of fine stone blocks, where the farmers tend to the fertile soil in the few places where that is possible. Great fields of fruit and cereal grains stretch as far as the eye can see. The smell tingles your nose and makes you hunger for the taste of a fluffy bread cake.
There are vast fields surrounded by white fences that pen healthy-looking fat cows, each with the magical brand of one of the prosperous local Princes. Further ahead, a family of five elves, a couple and three sons, who are working the fields with great scythes, even as a young woman in the garb of an apprentice mage casts magic on a pile of cut wheat, causing it to thresh itself and collect the seeds.
Fields of glass glint in the sun as enchanted greenhouses grow fruit that would otherwise not survive within Ulthuan. This part of Caledor is prosperous, if not as rich as the parts where the commoners put their labours towards artisanry. But as you traverse the countryside, you notice fewer and fewer truly prosperous fields around you.
You're stopped by the sight of a farmer herding a flock of swans across a paved road. It's a familiar face. Farmer Beldanar. A familiar face around the Palace of the Prince, you remember his routine visits whenever he needed to drop off a tribute of hides or meat as payment for hunting on the Prince's land. An old yeoman farmer who still took his swans to market.
"How long has it been, Lúthien? Have you held the line?" The farmer asks, stopping and muttering a cantrip that makes his swans step aside and form an orderly row on the side of the road. "I can't believe you're already returning with a spear on your back. Seems like it was just yesterday that you left."
"Hail, Beldanar," You say with a smile. "I held the line on three continents. How has my father been in my absence?"
"I haven't seen him for a while. Been busy with my own affairs. But I heard they had to sell the chandelier to replace a lost shoulder pad on his armour."
You bite your lip in annoyance. "The glass chandelier? But it was such a beautiful thing. I will miss it greatly if it is gone."
"Afraid so. But many young hands are leaving for Lothern, leaving fewer to tend the fields. Which means less tax for the Prince. I'm driving my swans to Lothern for the market. The Sea Guard always pays well for swan feathers." He mutters another word of power, and the swans continue on their path. "You should visit next week or so. I'd love to talk about where you've been."
You look at the swans. They are each big and plump, and their feathers look like they'd be excellent for fletching. "Sounds like we are in accord then. I shall visit you soon."
---
After three days of wandering, sleeping in the barns of local farmers in exchange for some chores in the morning, you finally reach the entrance to your Prince Eltenar's Palace.
It looks more abandoned than you remember it to be.
Most of the fields around the Palace lay barren and are overgrown. Half the farmhouses you know should be inhabited are dark, with no light shining out. Several greenhouses have had their enchanted gemstones, and you can no longer sense the tendrils of magic. They have been reduced to empty glass buildings. You frown at the sight. The Prince really is selling his inheritance to keep his house fed.
The estate wall, a line of low stone blocks that had once held great shrubs cut to resemble a string of elven spearmen, is still an overgrown green wall with rotten and ill-tended patches. The stones are covered with roots, and moss fills all the delicate engravings. There are no guards at the gate. "I have returned." You yell out, looking between the bars of the gate.
You can see the east and west wings of the Palace are closed and devoid of light, and they look like they desperately needed some maintenance done. Only the facade and the original estate that the Palace had expanded out of still looked well-maintained. Had the Prince abandoned half the building then? It made sense to consolidate all the remaining people. But it was still disappointing.
Sighing. You put down your backpack and took out the hammer. "I apologize, gate. But I need to enter and will not wait." You pull up your right sleeve and raise your hammer. "I can repair you afterwar-"
"A moment. A moment!" A familiar voice calls out. You refrain from shattering the lock.
An elf dressed in white is racing her way towards you. It's Kerana, the handmaiden of Elliama Saphiresea, Prince Eltenar's wife. A kind young elf from a poorer family of farmers. You used to play together and play 'find the human'. "A moment, please." she reaches for a key ring and begins to unlock the Gate.
"Where is everyone?" You ask. "I've only been gone for fifty years." You put the hammer on your belt this time.
Then the realization hits you like a Minotaur's club. Kerana is dressed in all white. The colour of mourning and death. The handmaiden looks downcast. "The Prince fell in battle. Slain by the Druchii in Tiranoc. He was brought back just yesterday."
"Isha, preserve him." You put a hand on your chest in a silent salute. "How fares my father?"
"He is fine. If heartbroken. We all are. Much of the Household died with the Prince, as did my betrothed, Eldamar" Kerana sounds like she has shed all her tears already. "Your parents are in the central hall, paying their respects to the body."
There are no guards left to stand on attention at the front doors of the estate. You walk up the portico and into the great hall. The room is dark, with the only light coming through dirty, stained glass windows. Windows that you know Eldamar had talked about cleaning when he had the chance. The Prince's body is lying in state on a great marble slab, chest covered with concealing white cloth. Around fifty elves are left within the Household, none of them warriors. These are the kitchen staff, chamberlains, attendants, and the labourers who try and fail to maintain the Palace.
Your parents look up from the body of the Prince, and their eyes go wide upon seeing you. Your mother yells, "My morning star!" and rushes towards you, embracing you warmly. Your father tries to look stoic, but you can see his facade breaking. No words are exchanged, but he nods approvingly.
The rest of the Household gather around you, shaking your hands, hugging and kissing to show their gladness at you returning safely. You are reminded that this is what you fought for, all those decades on the front. But you can't help but look at the Prince's body and wonder what will happen next.
---
"What will happen now, father?" You ask. Sitting down upon your old bed in your family's room, feeling its familiar creak beneath you, this large room is where you grew up, where your parents lived. Which centuries ago held fifty people. Most of the room is filled with carpets and other excessively big pieces of furniture to make it feel less empty. "Without the prince, I mean."
Your father sighs loudly, "We'll look for another Prince that needs more household staff, and we'll indenture ourselves to him. But not you." He says more sternly than you are used to. "You won't swear yourself to any noble. You hear me?"
"Father?"
"I'm old, Morningstar." He says, voice heavy with world-weariness. "And I am tired. But you've got a life ahead of you. You're worth more than just spending your life working for a Dragon Prince that did not earn your ancestor's loyalty but just out of a need to earn your daily bread. You deserve more." His worn calloused hands surround your own as he grips them. "Your mother and I have been saving up enough to buy you a smithy in Lothern. It should help you get settled. I tried to find a husband for you, but I realized I should let you find the right person."
Your head swirls with thoughts. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. You were supposed to return home and become the second of Eltenar's attendant smiths. You never considered having to leave and make a life for yourself. You get up and look out through the window, looking at the fallow fields in the distance and the empty fields around you. But Morai-Heg is a cruel goddess, and few get what they truly wish.
"Father. There is no dishonour in being the attendant of a Dragon Prince. I would happily join you in-"
"Are you listening to me? I do not want you to be just another attendant. You have more potential than that. You easily match me in skill. I don't want you to be just another smith. I know our family has been serving the Dragon Princes since Caledor the Dragontamer. But you should set out on your own, find your own path in the world."
There is a long silence, and then you nod. "I'll do it. I will make you proud."
---
After all the rituals and ceremonies to properly leave the service of Prince Eltenar and a week of saying goodbye to the Household and the locals that you have known most of your life, you finally depart to seek your fortune.
The white wood of the old wagon is stained and cracked in many places. But it is still tough and reliable. With your father's anvil, tools, and a small portable forge loaded in the back, you have everything that you'll need to make a life for yourself. And so begins your new life as an itinerant Caledorian Smith with a hundred and fourteen Gold Dragons in your pocket. Although you doubt much will be left after buying a building to turn into your forge.
You think back to the friends you made when serving at the Phoenix Gate. When you start your business in Lothern, you'll need somewhere to start. So many of your fellow soldiers had been from Lothern, and they all spoke happily of their homeland. They were eager to tell you stories of where they had come from, the people they had met, and what would be waiting upon them for their return.
Many of these Asur were the children of very influential individuals, and they all liked your work. So it might be time to show up and make do on those offers.
Which friend did you make? (Choose 1)
[]Gelberal, the noble son: The son of a noble of Eataine. Gelberal had been made a Spearman by his father to teach him the hard life of being a soldier. Gelberal once asked you to visit him someday, and it might be time to do so. His family has fallen on hard times, but still has many strong and influential allies.
Providing his family with the fanciest equipment possible, might be a good idea to get your name out there. Although you'd be scraping by to pay amenities and your rent.
Pros:
-Access to a higher class of patrons that will be very demanding
Cons:
-A wage of roughly forty Gold Dragons each year. Half the normal wage for a smith.
[]Elthiol, the son of the Guard Captain: Lothern has a standing army in the form of the Lothern Sea Guard. The only true standing army of Ulthuan, and perhaps the finest in the world. Before the city of Lothern was founded, the Sea Guard maintained the Glittering Tower and served as the defenders of the Straits of Lothern. But these days, they are also the city guard of Lothern.
You met a spearman named Elthiol, who said his father was Captain of Lothern's City Watch. He could help you get your first reliable business by joining the ranks of the smiths that work to ensure that the Sea Guard defending the city are supplied with good weapons and armour.
Pros:
-A wage of eighty Gold Dragons each year. The standard wage of an elven smith.
Cons:
-This work is not prestigious
[]Alliana, the merchant's daughter: Many elves now travel from Lothern out into the wider world to make their fortunes and bring back wealth to the homeland. You met the daughter of one of these families and made good friends with her, even letting her braid your hair once. More might have developed were it not for you both being too awkward to start something.
One of these families is the Rubyfist Family. A noble family heavily invested in the trade of the titular gemstone, which has effectively monopolized Ulthuan's supply of the gem through a private army of mercenaries that 'encourage' humans to only sell to elves associated with them. They are also rumoured to have conducted assassinations or provoked duels to the death with potential political rivals.
Pros:
-A wage of a hundred and sixty Gold Dragons.
Cons:
-You are making weapons for what is effectively a crime syndicate.
---
Character Creation Complete
Luthien the Morningstar. Caledorian Smith.
You are an atypical example of an elf. Tall and broad, with a well-defined body although somewhat plain face by elven standards. Your long black hair is usually put into a long ponytail or tucked away while you work. A lifetime of working the furnace and anvil have hardened you into an exceptional example of elvenkind. You have strongly defined musculature, usually hidden beneath thick blacksmith's apparel or white robes of war. And you have learned to wield your blacksmith's hammer in defence of yourself and your property.
Diplomacy - 10 + 5 = 15
You have the tricky tongue of an elf. But you could do with training yourself a bit further.
(used for negotiating and interacting)
Martial - 8
You have been taught to obey and listen but not to lead. As a result, you would be woeful commanding men into combat.
(Used for leading men. Be they soldiers or bodyguards.)
Stewardship - 10
You know how to organize your tools and work within a tight budget properly.
(used for managing possessions and making money)
Learning - 15 + 5 = 20
Although The Art is unfamiliar to you, you learned to weave more subtle magic during your apprenticeship. Through this most unpretentious of magics, you learned to forge your crafts.
(used for crafting and for Learning.)
Intrigue - 10
You have an elf's inherent speed and ability to move quietly. But you've not been trained in it.
(Used for sneaking around and for cheating or swindling customers.)
Combat Prowess - 15
Elven arms accustomed to hammering steel for weeks at a time can be easily put to work crushing skulls with a sufficiently heavy weapon.
(Used in combat or for feats of strength)
Traits:
Smith of Caledor: Caledorian smithing is closer to magic than merely forging. Every blow you strike upon the anvil is interwoven with the subtlest of magic, and the metal is fundamentally altered to produce the finest results possible.
You are an accomplished Caledorian smith. Your works may not be considered magical by an Elven mage, but no normal human smith can forge steel as sharp as yours or mail that's as light.
The Second Sight: You have trained the natural elven sense of perceiving and feeling the winds of magic.
You can sense and perceive ambient magic.
Respectable and humble: You know how to appease your elders and the nobles of Ulthuan and earned a reputation as an obedient and very valuable servant.
+5 to Diplomacy
Well read: You know The Campaigns of Caledor Dragonslayer from back to front and recited from memory. You have a deep appreciation for literature and knowledge
+5 Learning
Working nature's bounty: Your mother taught you how to be a master at working leather, fur, and bone. You can scrimshaw, inlay horn and ivory, and decorate a collar with fur. You could even make a stylish but toughened suit of leather armour.
Will start with a broad mastery of working with bone, leather, fur, and the rest of nature's bounty.
This increases military demand for your work.
Friend of the merchant sons: Your fellow Archers were often the sons of lesser nobility or freemen from Eataine, with connections to merchant houses. These appreciated your crafts, and send examples back home. When your military service is done, they will be happy to buy your wares.
Elven archer training: All High Elven commoners learn to become proficient at the bow and arrow and can wield a sword in self-defence. You can shoot a bird out of flight and duel any man to a standstill with a blade.
Killer of fallen men: Those who willingly serve Chaos must be destroyed for the good of the world.
+10 to combat rolls against the human followers of Chaos.
Slayer of beastmen: The Firstborn of Chaos should have been smothered at birth. You have grown skilled at fighting these beasts.
+10 to combat rolls against beastmen and mutants.
All elves are prone to developing an obsession. This becomes a personality trait that heavily affects them and subtly influences their actions. However, these are -not- automatic paths to permanent corruption. All elves have some kind of obsession.
Failure to satisfy an obsession gives you a -3 to all stat until it is satisfied. Vices:
Vice: Blood for the Bloody Handed God: When the Druchii broke through the spearmen and came close to you, you loosed an arrow at close range and put it into his throat. The spray of blood was... beautiful. Khaela Mensha Khaine's influence is felt upon your soul.
Requirement: You have an urge to kill -something- at least once a month. Preferably someone intelligent.
Equipment:
Old Blacksmith's Aprons.
Enchanted smithing hammer.
Inventory:
A hundred and fourteen Gold Dragons
An undamaged Horned-One hide and horn
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Character Creation Complete. Say Hello to Luthien the smith.
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- Location
- Cardassia Prime
How is this a con?