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[OOC - 4E DnD] Sorrow of the Heavens
Aegeri
Tiny wee bacteriumsPlateau of LengRegistered User regular
Tiny wee bacteriumsPlateau of LengRegistered User regular
This is the OOC and general thread for my campaign Sorrow of the Heavens. We'll begin with the player list, thanks for everyone who applied in the previous thread.
We will be playing on a Sunday from 9-1pm on a Sunday New Zealand time. In New York time this is 2 to 6pm on a Saturday afternoon. You need to inform me ahead of time if you can't make a session, because it's just being polite! We will be using ventrillo and maptools for this campaign.
TSI|Awesome - Human Sorcerer (Striker)
Terrendos - Human Cleric (Leader)
REG Rysk - Eladrin Wizard (Controller and pew pew pew machine)
illgottengains - Half-Orc Barbarian (Striker)
Goumindong - Dwarf Fighter (Defender)
Here is the In Character Thread.
Those who have fallen or been lost to the sands of time
Kilroy - Human Cleric (Leader) Killed by Amaranth.
Arasaki - Revenant Ranger (Striker) Struck down opposing the party as they fought an avatar of Orcus.
Prof Moriaty - Warforged Rogue (Striker) Met Mortis the Wrathful and discovered he was more than wrathful enough.
YesNoMu - Dragonborn Barbarian (Striker and kinda Defender) Living happily with family in Valkur's Roar
illgottengains - Halfling Cleric (Leader) Escaped Shadowfell, whereabouts currently unknown
Arasaki - Deva Avenger (Striker) Currently in the Catacombs of the Dead.
Arasaki - Githyanki Swordmage (Defender) Presumed missing on the Shadowfell
Terrendos - Half-Elf Warlock (Striker) Escaped Shadowfell, whereabouts currently unknown
Morninglord - Half-Elf Paladin (Defender) Escaped Shadowfell, whereabouts currently unknown
The Glorious Dead list. Characters whom, in any campaign I've run have been permanently killed in gameplay.
The game will begin later this month and this is the OOC thread, feel free to ask me questions and whatever else. Sort out your party as well and who wants to play what. As I said in the previous thread I wouldn't mind having a party with 2 defenders and 1 leader, or 2 leaders and a defender at about minimum. So long as you have that sort of "base", I don't mind what character classes you guys want to play. In the end, game balance is my job, so don't feel hamstrung. If you want to play something and you don't think it fits, do it anyway and we'll see how it goes. I don't want anyone feeling like they didn't get to play what they wanted!
We are currently using: Maptools beta 63.
Anyway, here is some story detail. It's spoilered so that if you don't feel your character would know this then you don't have to. It's lore about an ancient legend that might be relevant to the campaign. It could be utterly irrelevant. It might be entirely wrong in places, true in other places and sometimes tells a half-truth (or a half-lie). Either way, it should give you a general idea to theme of the campaign.
Mechanical stuff for the campaign.
Books allowed are (for PCs):
Players Hand Book
Forgotten Realms Players Guide
Adventurers Vault
Martial Power (Highly approve)
Dungeon/Dragon stuff (permission required):
Barbarian article
Warlock Article
Swordmage Article
Gladiator Articles (but ask me first)
Faerun Epic Destinies article (Elven High Mages ritual ability doesn't apply to item creation rituals, no matter how clever your hamster).
Adventurers of the Realms.
Not allowed stuff (definitely):
Warforged. I just dislike them in Forgotten Realms and I just can't see how they fit at all. This race is not permitted.
Ritualists Ring. Stacking with Elven High Mage gets rid of this.
Anything else I can think of eventually.
Starting gold is 100. You can buys anything you want. Once I'm done sorting out my stuff, you'll have the option of an "easy opening" or "in the deep end". The easy opening starts in a small town north of waterdeep and takes you from levels 1-2, designed to sort of being a way of easing into the game. The other just starts directly in in Waterdeep.
Also, tell me your general DnD experience and such (if you're new, played a lot of DnD and that sort of thing).
Here is a map of Faerun.
Important Edit:
Weapon Finesse counts as a feat bonus (as does implement expertise).
We will be playing on a Sunday from 9-1pm on a Sunday New Zealand time. In New York time this is 2 to 6pm on a Saturday afternoon. You need to inform me ahead of time if you can't make a session, because it's just being polite! We will be using ventrillo and maptools for this campaign.
TSI|Awesome - Human Sorcerer (Striker)
Terrendos - Human Cleric (Leader)
REG Rysk - Eladrin Wizard (Controller and pew pew pew machine)
illgottengains - Half-Orc Barbarian (Striker)
Goumindong - Dwarf Fighter (Defender)
Here is the In Character Thread.
Those who have fallen or been lost to the sands of time
Kilroy - Human Cleric (Leader) Killed by Amaranth.
Arasaki - Revenant Ranger (Striker) Struck down opposing the party as they fought an avatar of Orcus.
Prof Moriaty - Warforged Rogue (Striker) Met Mortis the Wrathful and discovered he was more than wrathful enough.
YesNoMu - Dragonborn Barbarian (Striker and kinda Defender) Living happily with family in Valkur's Roar
illgottengains - Halfling Cleric (Leader) Escaped Shadowfell, whereabouts currently unknown
Arasaki - Deva Avenger (Striker) Currently in the Catacombs of the Dead.
Arasaki - Githyanki Swordmage (Defender) Presumed missing on the Shadowfell
Terrendos - Half-Elf Warlock (Striker) Escaped Shadowfell, whereabouts currently unknown
Morninglord - Half-Elf Paladin (Defender) Escaped Shadowfell, whereabouts currently unknown
The Glorious Dead list. Characters whom, in any campaign I've run have been permanently killed in gameplay.
Abigail - Half-Elf Avenger (Striker) - Couldn't handle the ocher jellies jelly or the ongoing acid damage. Shipwrecked on the Dark Continent.
Calfrune - Razorclaw Shifter Druid (Controller) - Clubbed to death, literally. Shipwrecked on the Dark Continent.
Drexel - Half-Elf Paladin (Defender) - What happened in the forest stays in the forest. Dark Rain.
DVG - Changeling Bard (Leader) - Eaten alive by Black Dogs and something worse. Artist of Sharn.
Frost - Shifter Runepriest (Leader) - Garroted by a shadow and his soul consumed. May he rest in pieces. Marauders of the Astral Sea.
Fuzzbutt - Minotaur Barbarian (Striker) - Clawed down by a dretch and then ingloriously fried by lightning. Marauders of the Astral Sea.
Mongoose - Half-Orc Monk (Striker) - On the ground bleeding to death when the constructs sword finished the job by removing his head. Shipwrecked on the Dark Continent.
Woshor the Unknown - Genasi Swordmage (Defender) - Figured he could solo a solo, he couldn't and was stuffed into a trap to stop the gas. Tides of Dust.
Calfrune - Razorclaw Shifter Druid (Controller) - Clubbed to death, literally. Shipwrecked on the Dark Continent.
Drexel - Half-Elf Paladin (Defender) - What happened in the forest stays in the forest. Dark Rain.
DVG - Changeling Bard (Leader) - Eaten alive by Black Dogs and something worse. Artist of Sharn.
Frost - Shifter Runepriest (Leader) - Garroted by a shadow and his soul consumed. May he rest in pieces. Marauders of the Astral Sea.
Fuzzbutt - Minotaur Barbarian (Striker) - Clawed down by a dretch and then ingloriously fried by lightning. Marauders of the Astral Sea.
Mongoose - Half-Orc Monk (Striker) - On the ground bleeding to death when the constructs sword finished the job by removing his head. Shipwrecked on the Dark Continent.
Woshor the Unknown - Genasi Swordmage (Defender) - Figured he could solo a solo, he couldn't and was stuffed into a trap to stop the gas. Tides of Dust.
The game will begin later this month and this is the OOC thread, feel free to ask me questions and whatever else. Sort out your party as well and who wants to play what. As I said in the previous thread I wouldn't mind having a party with 2 defenders and 1 leader, or 2 leaders and a defender at about minimum. So long as you have that sort of "base", I don't mind what character classes you guys want to play. In the end, game balance is my job, so don't feel hamstrung. If you want to play something and you don't think it fits, do it anyway and we'll see how it goes. I don't want anyone feeling like they didn't get to play what they wanted!
We are currently using: Maptools beta 63.
Anyway, here is some story detail. It's spoilered so that if you don't feel your character would know this then you don't have to. It's lore about an ancient legend that might be relevant to the campaign. It could be utterly irrelevant. It might be entirely wrong in places, true in other places and sometimes tells a half-truth (or a half-lie). Either way, it should give you a general idea to theme of the campaign.
The bard, thoroughly drunk leaps upon the wooden table in the center of the bar and claps his hands together loudly, drawing the attention of the patrons of the Gilded Inn.
"Friends, friends we have had a good night and what is a night of celebration without a story?" the bard ducked back quickly to avoid a flagon of half filled ale hastily chucked in his direction by a drunken dwarf.
Unfazed, the bard continued into his tale...
"There is a legend, told to me by a strangely unworldly man that I met on my travels one day who claimed he had been told it from his father, that was told to him by his father and by his father, stretching back many generations of their family. He told me he had often wondered about many of the features that run through the bloodline of his family, the silver tint to their eyes and the alluring beauty of his features.
He asked me 'My good gentleman, do you believe that the Gods are there for you?' and of course, being the polite soul I am I answered in kind 'Why yes, Tymora has never seen me wrong and keeps a watchful eye over me and my lute. Why is it that you ask?'
With this, his eyes grew somewhat dark and it was as if a cold chill had descended upon me.
'Mortal, what you follow so blindly will only lead you to your destruction. They care not for you or anyone but themselves and their own power' he said without even diverting his gaze from me once, like cold iron it was to look at his eyes at this point.
Now, I'm no blasphemer and was taken aback by such a horrible thing to say! I naturally scolded him 'You must be brave or mad to say such things! The Gods have protected the faithful for years -' it was then that he cut me off and interjected 'Gods care little for their playthings, allow me to tell the story passed down through my family for generations..'
Miffed at his rude interruption, I allowed him to continue wondering what madness would make someone so openly admit to their defiance of the Gods and what he told me... well it's remarkable to say the least.
He told me that his ancestors were created to be servants, pure, unyielding and loyal above all. Servants of a greater god, they were its direct messengers, companions and tools of its divine will. There were rules to these creatures, they were never allowed to think or feel for themselves, they could not love, they could not choose for themselves. Should they develop signs of independence, they were to be destroyed and remade as if new so they could not be corrupted.
For centuries the god used his servants, which he identified as something like angels though the word he used I cannot remember, to keep watch over his followers and to serve him in peace. But this was not to last, for in the farthest reaches of the planes one such servant had been dispatched and had spent altogether too long with those he was meant to watch over. It's name, Mercuriel or "That of running silver" as the tribes who knew of the creature called it had developed feelings, thoughts perhaps of love or ideals for a mortal woman.
The strange mans bloodline began, he explained, when Mercuriel and this mortal woman coupled together and she was to conceive a son to him. Realising what he had done and that the god he served would not stand for this, for surely the god with his divine power it would be inevitable he would find out, Mercuriel made plans to betray and destroy his creator to protect his love: and his child.
And so Mercuriel gathered to him an army of like minded dissentors, daemons, beasts and mortals and assailed the gates of heaven itself....
to be defeated. Mercuriel was cast down at the feet of his former master and shackled. With this, his mortal love was brought forth and the god made Mercuriel but one last demand: admit that he had loved her and be destroyed, or stay silent and be imprisoned.
The god made the demand of Mercuriel but three times.
Each time, the angel remained silent.
And after the final time, Mercuriel was cast down into an infinite Abyss and left to rot for all eternity. With this, the brief but extremely bloody war in heaven had ended as quickly as it began. As to the mortal woman and her child, the man would only say that she was stripped of her soul for her part in the war and to take her due punishment -
- but that the child was to survive. He claimed the child was left to roam the planes and that his bloodline is the direct descendant of Mercuriel himself.
And with this, the man stood and he said one final thing before he just faded before my eyes, 'Even gods can face judgment for their crimes.'"
The bard stood upon the table proudly at his final revelation, only to have his moment disrupted by the flagon throwing dwarf from earlier "Eh, what's thiz bolloocks then? Is that hew it ends? C'mn, how des it end? It can't stop there!" the Dwarf bellowed. The bar rapidly turning back into a drunken shambles, the bard wisely ducked away before the first flagons could be thrown his way. He sighed to himself as he weaved his way to a quieter part of the establishment, if only he could remember the whole dream and not have to fill in all the gaps so much. He'd have such a better story....
"Friends, friends we have had a good night and what is a night of celebration without a story?" the bard ducked back quickly to avoid a flagon of half filled ale hastily chucked in his direction by a drunken dwarf.
Unfazed, the bard continued into his tale...
"There is a legend, told to me by a strangely unworldly man that I met on my travels one day who claimed he had been told it from his father, that was told to him by his father and by his father, stretching back many generations of their family. He told me he had often wondered about many of the features that run through the bloodline of his family, the silver tint to their eyes and the alluring beauty of his features.
He asked me 'My good gentleman, do you believe that the Gods are there for you?' and of course, being the polite soul I am I answered in kind 'Why yes, Tymora has never seen me wrong and keeps a watchful eye over me and my lute. Why is it that you ask?'
With this, his eyes grew somewhat dark and it was as if a cold chill had descended upon me.
'Mortal, what you follow so blindly will only lead you to your destruction. They care not for you or anyone but themselves and their own power' he said without even diverting his gaze from me once, like cold iron it was to look at his eyes at this point.
Now, I'm no blasphemer and was taken aback by such a horrible thing to say! I naturally scolded him 'You must be brave or mad to say such things! The Gods have protected the faithful for years -' it was then that he cut me off and interjected 'Gods care little for their playthings, allow me to tell the story passed down through my family for generations..'
Miffed at his rude interruption, I allowed him to continue wondering what madness would make someone so openly admit to their defiance of the Gods and what he told me... well it's remarkable to say the least.
He told me there was a War in Heaven.
He told me that his ancestors were created to be servants, pure, unyielding and loyal above all. Servants of a greater god, they were its direct messengers, companions and tools of its divine will. There were rules to these creatures, they were never allowed to think or feel for themselves, they could not love, they could not choose for themselves. Should they develop signs of independence, they were to be destroyed and remade as if new so they could not be corrupted.
For centuries the god used his servants, which he identified as something like angels though the word he used I cannot remember, to keep watch over his followers and to serve him in peace. But this was not to last, for in the farthest reaches of the planes one such servant had been dispatched and had spent altogether too long with those he was meant to watch over. It's name, Mercuriel or "That of running silver" as the tribes who knew of the creature called it had developed feelings, thoughts perhaps of love or ideals for a mortal woman.
The strange mans bloodline began, he explained, when Mercuriel and this mortal woman coupled together and she was to conceive a son to him. Realising what he had done and that the god he served would not stand for this, for surely the god with his divine power it would be inevitable he would find out, Mercuriel made plans to betray and destroy his creator to protect his love: and his child.
And so Mercuriel gathered to him an army of like minded dissentors, daemons, beasts and mortals and assailed the gates of heaven itself....
The god made the demand of Mercuriel but three times.
Each time, the angel remained silent.
And after the final time, Mercuriel was cast down into an infinite Abyss and left to rot for all eternity. With this, the brief but extremely bloody war in heaven had ended as quickly as it began. As to the mortal woman and her child, the man would only say that she was stripped of her soul for her part in the war and to take her due punishment -
- but that the child was to survive. He claimed the child was left to roam the planes and that his bloodline is the direct descendant of Mercuriel himself.
And with this, the man stood and he said one final thing before he just faded before my eyes, 'Even gods can face judgment for their crimes.'"
The bard stood upon the table proudly at his final revelation, only to have his moment disrupted by the flagon throwing dwarf from earlier "Eh, what's thiz bolloocks then? Is that hew it ends? C'mn, how des it end? It can't stop there!" the Dwarf bellowed. The bar rapidly turning back into a drunken shambles, the bard wisely ducked away before the first flagons could be thrown his way. He sighed to himself as he weaved his way to a quieter part of the establishment, if only he could remember the whole dream and not have to fill in all the gaps so much. He'd have such a better story....
Mechanical stuff for the campaign.
Books allowed are (for PCs):
Players Hand Book
Forgotten Realms Players Guide
Adventurers Vault
Martial Power (Highly approve)
Dungeon/Dragon stuff (permission required):
Barbarian article
Warlock Article
Swordmage Article
Gladiator Articles (but ask me first)
Faerun Epic Destinies article (Elven High Mages ritual ability doesn't apply to item creation rituals, no matter how clever your hamster).
Adventurers of the Realms.
Not allowed stuff (definitely):
Warforged. I just dislike them in Forgotten Realms and I just can't see how they fit at all. This race is not permitted.
Ritualists Ring. Stacking with Elven High Mage gets rid of this.
Anything else I can think of eventually.
Starting gold is 100. You can buys anything you want. Once I'm done sorting out my stuff, you'll have the option of an "easy opening" or "in the deep end". The easy opening starts in a small town north of waterdeep and takes you from levels 1-2, designed to sort of being a way of easing into the game. The other just starts directly in in Waterdeep.
Also, tell me your general DnD experience and such (if you're new, played a lot of DnD and that sort of thing).
Here is a map of Faerun.
Important Edit:
Weapon Finesse counts as a feat bonus (as does implement expertise).
Aegeri on
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I plan to play a Paladin in the service of Aumunator, at this point.
Reg you are free to be a Wizard.
Expect arrogant and irritating advice.
It grew on me until there no longer was a choice.
You wouldn't be too far wrong if you placed that picture into TFU and had some flailing stormtroopers in the background and the club was a lightsaber.
In fact you would be uncannily accurate.
I am planning to make my character have had some experience with wizards. Maybe a brother.
This way I can make IC know it all remarks. It'll be glorious.
"Was it really necessary to use fireball just then? My brother never used to..."
Steam | Twitter
Huh.
My brother used to involve me in area attacks.
Made me what I am.
I'm debating how I could pull off an annoying quirk like that charismatically. If I can't it'll have to stay an affectionate ooc rib...
...Nancy magic boy.
Oh, and my experience is from a while back, like 2nd Ed or maybe 3rd.
Also, how did you want to get our character data? The site that I got the maptool from has a 4e sheet, but it's lacking feats, powers, and items.
EDIT: I'm assuming the Point Buy system?
There's too many characters I want to make, darn it! This is just going to come down to me waiting until everyone else picks.
EDIT: D&D experience
- played a tiny bit of 3.0 (a single one-shot adventure)
- played some 3.5 with a Cleric, basically from level 1 to 5
- played a bunch of Neverwinter Nights 1 and 2
- DM'd a one shot in 4e (mostly to convince my friends how great it is,) played several encounters in another game before it fell apart
So yeah, I'm pretty much still a novice. Most of my experience is with Clerics and Warlocks, which are the main two classes I really like.
Here's the warforged article.
Out of curiosity, does the book mention lycanthropes at all? I thought I'd heard about them from reviews, and they'd make a pretty good reskinned minotaur (as well as shifter, but those don't have the stat increases!). They seem even more likely to draw attention than a minotaur, but you never know with these crazy fantasy worlds.
EDIT: Awesome, my surge is a third of my max HP. Nice.
Here's the site with the sheets if anybody else needs it, I've started filling mine out.
It was the "pagan" thing that got me fired from my last job on the docks, and made me come here. One of the guys saw the fetish I wear around my waist, and recognized it from those stupid "Threat of the Primal Spirits" sessions the Aumanator assholes are always holding. I explained real nicely that it was for protection against the spirits, not some kinda symbol of worship. Naturally, he wouldn't listen, so I tossed him into the water to help him cool down. I still don't really see the problem-- his arm will be like new in a few months.
Anyway, so now I'm unemployed, and none of the docks around here will hire me 'cause word of my temper spreads around. Not a problem, right? I can just go somewhere else. I hear they've got more work than they can handle out in Icewind Dale. Problem is, I'm not just supporting myself. My kid's real sick, and his mom spends all her time and money caring for him. And of course, while we can't afford a cleric to remove the disease, we can afford that expensive-ass medicine that keeps him from getting worse and eventually'll add up to be twice the cost. I try to get them a gold piece a day, which lets us save a bit for later.
I still blame those damn eyes of hers for everything. Those deep, sad blue eyes that make me want to hold her and tell her that nothing's ever going to hurt her. It's their fault that I was dishonored when they found me making out with the daughter of the chieftain. Their fault that I ran away with her to Waterdeep. Their fault that I had a kid, years and years before I ever thought I'd be ready. And their fault I'm a fucking adventurer now, killing kobolds and goblins and shit and taking their stuff. Instead of some kind of honest profession, I'm a quasi-racist mercenary assassin. Fan-fuckin'-tastic. And you know the worst part? I'd do it all again.
It's alright, I guess. I'm making a fairly steady income, and I definitely have a way to work out my aggression now. It's so easy: I just sorta let myself get mad, and all my problems seem to fade away. I come to surrounded by corpses, collect their stuff, and head home. I bring back some cash, and she doesn't even have to know I got fired from the docks. A few more weeks of this and I'll have enough cash to hire a cleric and tell the apothecary where he can stick his herbs. And then? And then I guess I can finally leave, go off somewhere far away from that girl and the hatchling who also looks at me with her eyes...
Yeah, I've got it bad. I know. Even now, when she's supposed to be no more than the mother of my kid, she could ask me to jump off a cliff and I wouldn't even have to think about it. I'm sleeping on their couch like we're some fucked-up human family, because I'm too devoted to leave, and too proud to go further. I'm still dragonborn, you know? I'll never be one of those soppy romantic losers, showing affection in public, carrying their kids and holding hands with their lovers. Never.
No matter how much I might want to.
We have been on the road for many months now, our funds begin to dry out, and my patience wears thin. No church has given me any information as to the whereabouts of the Simbul, or any way I may be able to glean some knowledge from the Gods.
Corellon save me, there is no grace or beauty in this world left. My crafts feel withered and slow, my sword rusted, and my wits dulled by the stench of all sort of foul creature infesting this city! Not creature to be literal, but figurative. Perhaps I am even going daft in his presence so long...
He prays daily, as a good holy man should. He is never late, and always determined. If only he determined the need for coin, food, and shelter. But, perhaps he even keeps my spirit afloat in the times of drowning sorrow...
I will find the Simbul of Agronland, but now may not be the time to look. We must find work of some sort, something to sharpen my wits and my blade with. Though we get off track, I will pray that Corellon shows me the light, and will someday lead me to the Spiral Tower, and give me the strength to wipe the wretched Thayans and their Red Wizards from the face of this miserable plane.
So Father Temulous told me I had to keep a diary. Said it would order my thoughts, help me to know myself so I could communicate better with the rest of the order. I don't think he likes that I don't know why I can do what I do.
But he told me it was important, that I couldn't rely on my instincts forever, even if they've been right so far.
Here goes I guess.
I wonder how you start a journal. I guess, I could describe who I am for starters?
My name is Benjamin. That's the one they gave me anyway. I don't know my real name, since I was apparently given into the temples care as a babe. Don't know my real mother or father.
I've been in the service of Aumunator all my life really. It was very stuffy when I was a child, so many rules! Rules about this, rules about that. I understand the reasons for rules and why they are good but, I didn't get why I had to memorise so many of them. I really wanted to go out into the sun and go down to the villages and meet people. I wasn't a very wise child, I guess, not as far as the Church of Aumunator is concerned.
I'm not a very wise adult, to tell the truth. I guess that's why I have to write this journal!
But I think, that I do understand what they are telling me. Rules are important. It's almost like I've been living my whole life by them, without really understanding why.
I've never been late to anything, even if I would get there at the last second. Never late, never early. Father Temulous still frowned at me, he valued "preparation, organisation, a clear mind!"
But I never leave things to the last minute, like he thinks. I get it all done immediately, then continue with other stuff in my life. He believes I do it at the last second, which is why I'm always in a rush. I don't think he expected me to pass the rituals as easily as I did. To be honest, I don't think he understands me at all.
But I can't blame him. I don't really understand myself. I don't really understand why it is important to know myself.
To me, the rules of life are not something you need to follow or you go astray. To me, they are...I don't know how to say it. They are....explanations of what I've already done.
I wake up as the ritual of the dawn starts. I go to sleep eight hours before. It just happens, I don't have to plan. It's the natural result of my full day.
They would explain the laws to me and I would question some of them. They called me rebellious, but some laws don't make sense. Some appear to be there to....remind people of what they are already doing.
It was only recently that I came to realise....not everybody thinks as I do. Some people need reminding.
Or is it that some people need to remind others?
I think sometimes both are true.
Nobody is in the temple right now. Father Temulous wouldn't tell me what they left for. Even though I am a Paladin of Aumunator now, people still don't understand me, or trust me. It's probably because I can't tell them how I know what I know or why I can make the best choices without justifying them? They debated my answer in the Ritual of Wisdom for hours before deciding I had come to the best choice for all involved.
I already knew that, but they wanted me to understand why.
If anything in my life could be considered a waste of time I believe. Yes. I believe that is one of them.
But then again, perhaps they are right. If I ever make the wrong choice, how will I know?
I think someone is at the gates, I can hear the doorknocker. I shall pause here for now.
*The journal ends here. Every other page is empty.*
Ack reg I didn't read yours first.
You'll have to have swung by my monastary and pick me up to make yours work.
It's why I left specific details ambiguous.
My schoolmates called me Demon, when the white fire lit my eyes and I tossed them aside like leaves in my fury. They were provoking me into a fight. They lived to regret it.
The priests called me novice, when I entered the temple. I began the trials to become a Cleric of Tempus, and the priests told me it would take years. Three months later, I was done. The priests called me prodigy when I left the temple.
The tribe of orcs called me foe, when they first tested the steel of my hammer against their weak flesh. Now they can call only to Kelemvor.
The swordmaster called me friend, when I healed his injuries. He taught me the ways of the blade as I traveled with him. When we were overwhelmed by shades in a distant land, he gave me his blade, and he called me legacy with his dying breath.
The town guard called me comrade as I stood with them. We fought a horde of undead and saved thousands of lives. The women called me handsome as I rode through town during the parade. The shield they gave me when I left that town I carry to this day.
The Goblins called me stupid when they ambushed me. They called me weak when they shattered my foot. They called me deathbringer as my vengeance consumed every last one of them.
The Dragonborn called me brother when I gave their leader counsel during their fight against one of their dragon foes. They did not understand my beliefs, but they knew my intentions and welcomed my advice.
I have been called many things. The time has come for me to be called hero. You? Well… you can call me Sal.
I see conflict!
I think something like that will work. Brings you into the family, but you didn't live with us.
I still think mine was a little ambiguous at least...I think I made it work, eh?
That works.
Whatever reasons brings us to the campaign starting point, whatever reason Aegeri gives us, you could have received the news first and decided you wanted the help of someone at the monastary, then convinced me to come when I answered the gate.
Since you are like, ten million times smarter than my character I think we can just say you convinced my young naive self eh.
Waddya think?