|T O P I C R E V I E W
|Copper Elven Vampire
||Posted - 07 May 2018 : 03:23:08
I would like to thank Tom Costa and Erik Scott de Bie, for creating the Trickster-Touched template for Erevan Ilesere. I have revised and modified it to be more up to balance with other lower CR templates in the Realms in my eyes, as this is clearly a Chosen of Erevan template by nature. I don't think I made it too powerful at all, and probably somewhere between the power-level of a Shadow-Walker, and much less than a Shade. I hope you all enjoy my revision and all and any feedback is welcomed if not looked for.
1-2 Detect Law, Detect Magic 3/day, Dex +4, Int +4, Cha +4, A +4 racial bonus on Fortitude saving throws against poison, +4 racial bonus on Willpower saving throws against Enchantments and Illusions.
3-4 Protection from Law, Change Self 3/day.
5-6 Trickster Knowledge, Trickster Feats, Dex +2, Int +2.
7-8 Dimension Door 2/day.
9-10 Blur, Mirror Image 3/day.
11-12 Plane Shift 1/day.
13-14 Displacement 3/day.
15-16 Dimension Door, Greater Blink 3/day.
17-18 Cloak of chaos 2/day.
19+ Maddening Whispers 1/day.
CREATING A TRICKSTER-TOUCHED CREATURE
“Trickster-touched” is an acquired template that can be added to any nonlawful, corporeal, living creature (referred to hereafter as the base creature).
Challenge Rating: Same as the base creature +2.
Level Adjustment: Same as the base creature +2.
Alignment: Trickster touched creatures are unpredictable and unconcerned with social conventions. The base creature’s alignment changes to chaotic, if it is not already.
Resist: Trickster-touched creatures are undaunted by poison or poison traps. The base creature gains a +4 racial bonus on Fortitude saving throws against poison.
Spell-like Abilities: Trickster-touched creatures can often sense the presence of too much order and structure, as well as magical auras. The base creature gains the ability to detect law or detect magic as the spells cast by a cleric of her character level in any combination a total of 3/day as well as Protection from Law, Change self, Dimension door, Blur, Mirror image, Displacement, Cloak of chaos and Plane shift as described above.
Abilities: Trickster-touched creatures are nimble, clever, and amiable. Increase from the base creature as follows: Dex +4, Int +4, Cha +4. If the base creature has 5 or more HD or levels or upon gaining 5 HD or levels, the base creature gains additional increases as follows: Dex +2, Int +2.
Special Qualities: Trickster Knowledge; Trickster-touched creatures seem unable to keep their noses out of trouble, and thus collect stray bits of lore from wherever their adventures take them on topics as varied as local personalities, the history and powers of artifacts, and the traits of monstrous races just as a bard can with bardic knowledge. This ability functions like the bardic knowledge class feature, except that the bonus for the check equals the Trickster-touched creature’s racial bonus + her Int modifier. Trickster-touched creatures have a base +1 racial bonus to their check, which increases by +1 for every 5 HD or class levels of the base creatures. This ability stacks with a bard’s bardic knowledge and similar abilities such as a Harper agent’s Harper knowledge or a loremaster’s lore class features.
Feats: Trickster-touched creatures seem to have an endless supply of tricks up their sleeves. If the base creature has 5 or more HD or levels or upon gaining 5 HD or levels, the base creature gains Cool Head CS, Freerunner CS, Sure Hand CS, or Sweet Talker CS as a bonus feat, regardless of whether or not the base creature meets the prerequisites for the feat. The base creature must still meet the prerequisites for its chosen bonus skill tricks.
Possessions: Trickster-touched creatures seem to come into treasure and wealth easily. The base creature adds +50% to the standard applicable treasure and/or NPC gear value of a creature of their HD and/or level. Player character’s beginning with this template gain this bonus to their character wealth at character creation, but do not gain future increases to their character wealth.
TRICKSTER-TOUCHED CREATURE LORE
Characters with ranks in Knowledge (religion) can learn more about Trickster-touched creatures. When a character makes a successful skill check, the following lore is revealed, including the information from lower DCs.
The base creature and its characteristics must be identified using the appropriate skill according to the base creature’s type.
15 This is a Trickster-touched creature, sprung of Erevan Ilesere, the elf god of mischief, change, and rogues. Erevan blesses his chosen with a kiss, which often takes the form of a tattoo of some kind on the body.
15 + CR Trickster-touched creatures can be of almost any kind, and they have greatly increased Dexterity, Intelligence, and Charisma. These creatures of chaos are adept at skill tricks.
20 + CR Trickster-touched creatures can sense the presence of law and order, as well as magic. They are highly resistant to poison.
25 + CR Trickster-touched creatures have a knack for getting their hands on treasure.
Trickster-touched creatures are nomads and adventurers. Although they often form temporary alliances and friendships, they are most often found alone, with rare exception.
Curudin Ahmaquissar: The Mischiefmaker of Luruar. CR 27. Rogue 5/ Cleric 5/ Mischiefmaker 10/ Shadowtrick Priest 5. Curudin was Trickster-Touched at birth and is usually found in Everlund when he is not adventuring, drinking and merrymaking at one of the three taverns that he owns, which are all fronts for his exclusively elven thieves guild known as "The Rogues of the Laughing Twilight." He has a snarky and jaded disposition, but is a champion of the elven people to a fault, as long as it serves his ends and goals. He thinks of himself first, his friends second, and the elven people third. Curudin is famous or infamous for his flighty pranks against authority, be they good or evil in heart. He is either loved or cursed by all those who meet him, and he and his guild are well known for stealing from the rich and powerful and giving back half of said riches to the common poor folk across the Silver Marches. With a cool, calculating mind and a wry outlook on life, Curudin manages his guild with efficiency and diplomacy. His thieves guild consists of specialists such as Assassins, Bards, Pick-Pockets, Swashbucklers, Mage-Killers, Shadow-Walkers, High structure acrobats, Shadow Mages, Temple Raiders, Bladesingers, Spellblades, Monks, Combat Tricksters, druids, Mountebanks, Shadow Lords, Arcane Archers and a plethora of other professions. His guild consists of 50 members currently in 1484 DR. All his guild members either worship or follow the dogma of the elven god Erevan Ilesere, and is actually a requirement to join the guild. Curudin is a true Charlatan, trickster and master of mischief, as well as a prized spy for Queen Amlaruil of Evermeet, of which he broke into her palace and stole a minor necklace at the age of 15 just to have an audience with her. Because of this, he was "exiled" from Evermeet forever and asked to be the ears and eyes of the Queen in Faerun, in which he plays his part as he sees fit. His first love is adventuring and the mischief, trickery and chaos he can cause along the way. Some friends and enemies who have known him would say that he bleeds chaos from his skin in writhing, multi-colored ribbons, and wears it like a cloak.
Most Trickster-touched are humanoid creatures. The majority are elves, mostly moon, wood, and half-elves of various ancestries, but any and all subraces are possible, even drow—the Fey Jester relates to all of his kin, and is known for shifting his face and coloration to match any of them. Erevan has been known occasionally to favor aasimar and celadrin (see Dragon Magazine #350 [December 2006]), and a very few gnomes and halflings (though they are drawn to his fellow mischiefmakers Garl Glittergold and Brandobaris or Tymora, respectively) carry his mark. Trickster-touched humans have never been documented to exist—perhaps pure human blood cannot carry his brand of trickery. Non-humanoids have been known to bear Erevan’s mark, especially intelligent, witty creatures like certain dragons (particularly copper, crystal, faerie, mercury, pseudo-, and song dragons), fey of almost all sorts, and outsiders (particularly coures and other eladrin), though some magical beasts (particularly cooshee and tressym) and even raccoons (who are awakened in conjunction with the gift) have been blessed by the Trickster.
Environment: A Trickster-touched creature can be found in any climate and any terrain, though they are most commonly found in urban centers among others with whom they socialize, trifle, and sometimes victimize with a prank, theft, or worse.
Typical Physical Characteristics: A Trickster-touched creature is more lithe and beautiful than ordinary creatures of its kind. Erevan’s kiss almost always leaves a permanent magic tattoo (often but not always in the shape of his sigil) that may glow, tingle, or react in some way when touched or when the creatures uses its template-granted powers and abilities. (This mark has no game mechanics associated with it). Some Trickster-touched also manifest their “blessing” through other means, like a particular mannerism or laugh).
Alignment: Trickster-touched creatures are unpredictable in the extreme, and while prone to small kindnesses and rarely cruel, are far from paragons of virtue. Most Trickster-touched creatures are chaotic neutral, but some stay true to their good or even their evil roots, using their talents to further the cause of good in the Realms or indulging in spiteful and wicked pranks and deception.
Erevan’s favor is as rare and unpredictable as he is, and not many of his “blessed” exist. Many communities, however, can tell a story of a special and particularly irascible child who caused quite a bit of chaos in youth—and in age, as well. In some of these cases, they have the Fey Jester to thank—or curse.
Trickster-touched creatures are noticeably different from others of their age. As children, they are smarter and faster, outwitting even the biggest bullies with a speed of thought that can only be (and is) a divine gift. They are also very, very glib, and rarely is a young trickster caught in a lie, even by the cleverest and canniest of adults. The Trickster-touched are prone to wanderlust and generally grow bored at how easily they dominate the world around them; therefore, they often leave home to travel far and wide, trying out their tricks and pranks on a diverse world. They tend to be loners, either by nature or by choice; misfortune and danger have a habit of following them and catching those others who get too close, all too often with disastrous consequences.
How the Fey Jester chooses creatures to bless as Trickster-touched is not known with any certainty—appropriate, for a being whose existence is defined by trickery. The Trickster-touched may carry a bit of divine blood in their veins, being the legacy of past dalliances, or they could be favored servants of former lovers, or their selection as Trickster-touched may have been entirely random and without (apparent) purpose. All that is known for certain about the Trickster-touched is that, once Erevan blesses them, their lives are never the same.
Some sages and learned scholars have theorized that Erevan creates these creatures in much the same way gods like Mystra and Bane create Chosen, but this seems to be patently inaccurate. The Trickster-touched do not carry any of Erevan’s personal divine power, and he seems to take only a passing interest in them—usually just the one moment in which he confers his mixed “blessing.” If indeed Erevan Ilesere has one or more Chosen, he has yet to reveal them.
Trickster-touched creatures have a knack for getting their hands on . . . stuff. Sometimes this is due to sticky fingers and, other times, their subtle manipulations of others to their best business advantage. Whatever the reason, Trickster-touched have +50 percent more treasure than standard for the creature’s Challenge Rating and/or level. This treasure can take almost any form, from valuable personal equipment and magic items to rich pieces of art and jewelry to valuable property and holdings.
TRICKSTER-TOUCHED CREATURES WITH CLASS LEVELS
The Trickster-touched’s skills and natural inclinations make them natural rogues, swashbucklers, bards, and scoundrels of every sort. They generally don’t view theft as wrongdoing—if one is clever enough to obtain something others think one shouldn’t, then one is entitled to keep it. They are drawn to luck featsCS and skill tricksCS and many take up the fortune’s friendCS or uncanny tricksterCS prestige classes. Some become capable wizards and sorcerers, and are drawn to prestige classes like the arcane trickster, magical tricksterCS and fatespinnerCAr. Some Trickster-touched pursue religious careers, and most are drawn (unsurprisingly) to Erevan Ilesere or other gods of chance and trickery. Martial-oriented classes tend to bore the Trickster-touched, who often see them as too serious to be pursued seriously, though they find comfort in the battle tricksterCS prestige class. Due to their chaotic nature, the Trickster-touched never pursue the path of the paladin or monk—any lawful vocation grates on their very being.
Level Adjustment: +2.
TRICKSTER-TOUCHED CREATURES IN FAERÛN
The Trickster-touched rarely captain industry or exercise political power—most are far too whimsical and prone to wanderlust to build the necessary capital. Thus, they are drawn to a life of random but thrilling danger and excitement, both for entertainment and for their own sanity: they often become adventurers.
The Trickster-touched often find themselves at odds with the lawful organizations of the world. Like their Seldarine patron, they are fickle and easily chafe under the weight of tradition and authority. Almost all Trickster-touched creatures encountered will be on the run from one bad situation or another, whether legal or romantic. The Trickster-touched are inherent loners—some are fine with this, while some become rather morose. Invariably, they fail at most attempts to start a family or even settle into a routine with friends or loved ones. Even if their tricks and pranks do not get them chased out of town, the call of the open road is one few of those who share the kiss of Erevan Ilesere can resist. Trickster-touched rarely get along together initially—they share too much, and each sees the loneliness in the other—but those who can avoid driving the other away with pranks and the constant game of one-upmanship often become fast and constant friends.
Outside these basic principles, the vocations and lifestyles of the Trickster-touched vary like the whims of their divine “patron.” At least one blubbery old merchant in Sembia—one Halifar the Haggler, a half-moon elf—uses his silver tongue and the smooth manner of speaking granted him by Erevan for his own benefit, and has amassed a not inconsiderable fortune in coin, gems, and land. At least one pirate lord in the Sea of Fallen Stars—the wood elf Felissan, who may be male or female (the stories are unclear on this point, and Felissan seems to dress radically differently for every raid)—is known to be Trickster-touched, bearing Erevan’s symbol across the whole of his (or her) back. (In truth, Felissan may or may not be a copper or song dragon—tales disagree on this point as well.) The affable and dexterous rake Mellart, a half-drow who haunts taverns up and down the Sword Coast, is said to laugh precisely like the Fey Jester. Even if one has never (knowingly) met Erevan, those with elf blood know the sound from dreams—it is for this reason Mellart always tells jests and never listens. Rashkatar Moridian, a sun elf warlock who serves Beshaba faithfully, is also Trickster-touched—the irises of his eyes are shaped like stars.
The Mischiefmaker (specialty cleric of Erevan Ilesere)
The Mischiefmaker represents all that is chaotic and free. They bring change and excitement where ever they go be it for good or ill. They live on the edge in a constant state of self-reinvention. They thrive to puncture the self-righteousness, sanctimony, and pretension that pervades orderly society with mischievous pranks that both amuse and enlighten. They enjoy causing trouble for its own sake and have the ability to take care of themselves should a prank prove to be deadly or go awry. Most Mischiefmakers are Moon or Copper elves, but even Gold, Wild and Star elves take this class when the call of Erevan sings strongly in their hearts. Most Mischiefmakers are famous or infamous Rogue/Clerics in the favor of Erevan Ilesere and serve as his mortal right-hand. They are deadly-romantic in their charm and subtlety of skill. Brave and yet flighty. They are champions of trickery and modest in ability. To underestimate a Mischiefmaker is to court the surety of becoming the victim to an amusing, well thought, elaborate hoax that could end up costing you and being at your cost.
Hit Die: d8.
Requirements: To qualify to become a Mischiefmaker, a character must fulfill all the following criteria.
Race: Character must be a Elf or Half Elf.
Skills: Knowledge (religion) 6 ranks, Disguise 5 ranks, Disable device 6 ranks, Bluff 6 ranks, Hide 6 ranks, Move silently 6 ranks, sleight of hand 5 ranks, Concentration 2 ranks, Spellcraft 1 rank, Escape Artist 2 ranks.
Feats: Any Metamagic feat, Sacred Outlaw.
Spellcasting: Ability to cast 3'rd level Divine spells. Must have either the chaos, trickery or luck domain.
Special: +2d6 Sneak attack ability. Must have Erevan Ilesere as a Patron Deity.
Class Skills: Balance, Bluff, Climb, Concentration, Craft, Diplomacy, Disguise, Disable Device, Escape artist, Heal, Hide, Intuit direction, Jump, Knowledge (religion), Listen, Move silently, Open lock, Sleight of hand, Profession, Search, Spellcraft, Spot, Tumble, Use magic device, Use rope, Wilderness lore.
Skill points at each level- 6 + Int mod.
Class Features: Weapon & Armor Proficiency: Mischiefmaker's are proficient with all simple weapons, plus the hand crossbow, rapier, sap, shortbow, and short sword. MM's are proficient with light armor, but not with shields.
Spells per day: A Mischiefmaker's training focuses on divine magic. Thus, when a character gains a new level of MM, she gains new spells per day as if she also gained a level in whatever spellcasting class she belonged to before she added the prestige class. She does not however gain any other benefit a character of that class would have gained.
Divine Scoundrel: At 1'st level the MM gains the ability to add her Mischiefmaker class levels to stack with her Sacred Outlaw feat. For example, a 5'th level cleric/ 3'rd level rogue/ 3'rd level Mischiefmaker Turns undead as a 11'th level cleric, and deals +6d6 points of damage on a successful sneak attack.
Granted Domain: At 1'st level, the MM gains access to one domain chosen from among those her deity offers, and with it the granted power of that domain. Mischiefmakers who were once clerics essentially gain a third domain this way and can prepare their domain spells at each level from the new domain’s list if they wish.
Mock Law: At 2'nd level, the MM gains a +4 divine bonus on saving throws against any spell with the law descriptor, as well as all compulsion spells and the spell-like or supernatural abilities of outsiders. In addition the MM also gains a +2 divine bonus to the DC of all spells he casts with the chaos, Luck and trickery Domains.
Shadow Trick: Beginning at 3'rd level, once a day you can call forth the power of shadow, enveloping yourself in a clinging, concealing shroud of darkness. While this spell-like ability is in effect, you gain a number of benefits. The shadows wrapping your form grant you a +4 competence bonus on Escape Artist, Hide, and Move Silently checks. Your shadowy form also provides you with concealment. While your Shadow Trick is active, attacks against the Mischiefmaker have a miss chance equal to 15% + 5% per class level to a maximum of 65% at 10th level. This shadowy concealment is not negated by a see invisibility spell, but a true seeing spell counteracts the effect. Standing within the radius of a daylight spell or in bright natural sunlight temporarily suppresses the concealment effect. In addition, if you have 5 ranks in Escape Artist, you can attempt to slip through a solid object or barrier up to 5 feet thick with a DC 20 Escape Artist check, though doing this ends the spell as soon as the attempt is completed (regardless of success). If you have 10 ranks in Escape Artist, you can attempt to pass through an object or barrier up to 10 feet thick. If you have 15 ranks in Escape Artist, you can attempt to pass through a barrier composed of magical force (or similar magical obstacles). This ability lasts 1 minute/ level of MM class, and requires 1 standard action to use.
Side Slip: At 4'th level, you become supernaturally elusive. Five times per day as an immediate action, you can transfer yourself from your current space to another up to 40 feet away. This ability otherwise works like the dimension door spell, except that you cannot transport other creatures with you.
Mask of Mischief: At 5'th level the Mischiefmaker is able to create a shimmering, midnight blue mask to form around her face as a free action. It does not impede your vision, cannot be physically removed, completely hides your features, and continuously grants Undetectable Alignment as the spell, as well as gaining a +5 competence bonus on saves against mind-affecting spells and abilities. In addition, the Mischiefmaker may cast Hideous Laughter and Irresistible Dance while wearing the Mask of Mischief one time a day each.
Surprise Spells: At 6'th level, a Mischiefmaker can add his sneak attack damage to any spell that deals damage, as long as the targets are flat-footed. This additional damage only applies to spells that deal hit point damage. The additional damage is of the same type as the spell. If the spell allows a saving throw to negate or halve the damage, it also negates or halves the sneak attack damage. The additional damage is only applied once per spell.
Metamagic Trick: At 7'th level, you understand how to apply the principle of tricks to your spellcasting. Once per day you can apply the effect of any one metamagic feat you know to a spell as you cast it without altering the spell’s effective level. The spell slot adjustment of the metamagic feat can’t exceed four.
Invisible Thief: Beginning at 8'th level, the MM can become invisible, as if under the effects of greater invisibility, as a free action. She can remain invisible for a number of rounds per day equal to her MM level. Her caster level for this effect is equal to her full character caster level. These rounds need not be consecutive.
Tricky Magic : At 9'th level once per day, the Mischiefmaker can add her Charisma Modifier as a luck bonus on the save DC of all spells you cast until the start of your next turn. In addition, any spell she casts from the Trickery, Chaos or Luck domain are maximized, as if they were under the effect of the Maximize Spell feat.
Scoundrel's Shadow: At 10'th level, the MM has mastered the art of Trickery and Divine spells. The MM can become incorporeal once per day. A MM can remain incorporeal for a number of rounds equal to 5 + her Wis Mod. As an incorporeal creature, the MM can be harmed only by other incorporeal creatures, +1 or better magic weapons, and spells, spell-like abilities, and supernatural abilities. She is immune to all nonmagical attack forms. Even when hit by spells or magic weapons, the MM has a 50% chance to ignore any damage from a corporeal source (except for force effects, such as magic missile, or attacks made with ghost touch weapons). An incorporeal MM has no natural armor but has a deflection bonus equal to her Charisma modifier. An incorporeal MM can pass through solid objects at will, but not force effects. Her attack passes through (ignores) natural armor, armor, and shields, although deflection bonuses and force effects (such as mage armor) work normally against it. An incorporeal MM moves silently and cannot be heard with Listen checks if she doesn't wish to be. While incorporeal, the MM has no Strength score, so her Dexterity modifier applies to both her melee and her ranged attacks.
(All spell-like abilities are cast at total character caster level)
The Mischiefmaker TABLE 1:1
Level Attack Fort Ref Will Special Spellcasting
1st 0 0 2 2 Divine Scoundrel, Granted Domain +1 level of existing divine spellcasting class
2nd 1 0 3 3 Mock Law +1 level of existing divine spellcasting class
3rd 2 1 3 3 Shadow Trick +1 level of existing divine spellcasting class
4th 3 1 4 4 Side Slip +1 level of existing divine spellcasting class
5th 3 1 4 4 Mask of Mischief +1 level of existing divine spellcasting class
6th 4 2 5 5 Surprise Spells +1 level of existing divine spellcasting class
7th 5 2 5 5 Metamagic Trick +1 level of existing divine spellcasting class
8th 6 2 6 6 Inadvisable Thief +1 level of existing divine spellcasting class
9th 6 3 6 6 Tricky Magic +1 level of existing divine spellcasting class
10th 7 3 7 7 Scoundrels Shadow +1 level of existing divine spellcasting class
History: The early Adventures and Misadventures of Curudin Ahmaquissar.
Evermeet, 1274 DR
The alluring female moon elf looked down at her newborn child. The two midwives exchanged concerned glances at one another as she unwrapped her child with a quick gasp. For a short second or two she could of sworn the bright blue eyes of her beautiful elven son were swirling and dancing with tiny asymmetrical star-bursts, but once she blinked her own eyes they were gone. She gave a soft laugh and looked at the midwives, who stood silent wearing worried expressions of joy on their tired faces. It was a long and complicated birth for Evelyndis Ahmaquissar.
She had thought that her troublesome labor and difficult childbirth had somehow caused her vision and senses to play tricks on her when she looked her son in the eyes, but as she continued to unwrap her child she noticed two unmistakable tattoos on either side of her sons chest. Two asymmetrical star-bursts were tattooed on his skin and glowed a faint multi-colored hue in a chaotic, ever changing pattern. She gasped aloud this time and whispered a prayer to her deity that what she was seeing now was not just a trick of the mind or the result of an extended, painful birthing. As she held her son up before her fully naked, she giggled and began to chant a simple spell. After a few moments she cradled her child again and smiled with mischief on her lips. "my precious little Mischiefmaker, you have your fathers eyes."
Evermeet, 1294 DR
In the aftermath of her spell, Queen Amlaruil looked down at the six elven youths sprawled on the floor before her. As they lay immobilized on the steps below the ancient dais located within the Royal Garden her powerful gaze fell on the one elf that now stood up tall and without fear, unlike his companions which her simple spell had captured.
“He is very young and these six elves have seen no more than 20 winters,” she thought as she looked upon the standing elf.
He confronted her gaze smiling and stood in such a comfortable manner that Amlaruil instantly questioned her decision to summon her late husband’s Moonblade, as it flashed into existence in her hand.
The moon elf felt a palpable wave of fear and adoration wash over him, but he knew that the feeling was not because of the King Sword. As Amlaruil approached him, her power and aura caused an unbearable, all-engulfing sensation of sheer ancient power that his relaxed and confident mien collapsed into turmoil. He felt an odd sensation of terrible fear coupled with unbridled love as Amlaruil came close enough to touch him with the Moonblade. Mustering all of his willpower the moon elf shook off the effects of the Queen’s innate, ancient power. Raising an index finger the young elf half-bowed and said lightly, "I am Curudin Ahmaquissar of House Ahmaquissar of Evermeet, formerly of Keltormiir and allied by blood. I present myself to you as a rogue-in-training, thief extraordinaire and follower of Erevan Ilesere."
The Queen cast a swift, powerful spell around them both with a deft motion of her wrist. "So thief," the Queen said, "have you come to steal my husbands Moonblade?"
When an instant response was not forthcoming, the look on Amlaruil’s angelic face turned to a mixture of surprise, confusion and realization, all within the blink of an eye. She raised her hand to her brow and with a swift movement reached out to touch Curudin and then fixed him with her unnerving, ancient gaze.
As Queen Amlaruil looked upon him, Curudin Ahmaquissar experienced power he had never experienced before. The Queen looked into his deep, blue eyes flecked with forest green and seemed to drink in his very soul. While taller in stature than an average elf child, he was seemingly unaffected by her powerful aura; an aura which had compelled lords, kings and generals alike to bow before her in an instant. Amlaruil looked deeper into the soul of this dauntless elf child and found nothing but laughter and trickery and his wry smile deepened, the more she pressed her spell. The Moonblade of Zaor remained quiescent in her grasp and as her spell delved deeper, she understood that this Curudin Ahmaquissar allowed her to spell-probe him without resistance or complaint.
Her puzzlement showing, Amlaruil repeated her question. "Did you come for my husband’s Moonblade?”
The response was as swift as it was unexpected. "No my lady ... my Queen. I have actually come for you."
With a mere thought, Queen Amlaruil cast a Time Stop Spell and raised her eyebrow in anticipation. The world seemed to stop all around her, but she moved with the grace and speed of a demi-god. Curudin appeared transfixed in time before her, but with clever eyes, followed her every movement. For a moment or two, the Queen was aware of this and was taken aback. For the next 4 rounds, Amlaruil cast several augury spells asking the Selderine for advice and wisdom. Not a single deity seemed to answer her multiple prayers. However, right as the Time Stop Spell was about to end, she received an unexpected response to her augury. It was but a faint laugh at first. Subtle, unthreatening, yet commanding. Before the spell ended, the Queen, who both wise and old enough, knew she had heard that enchanting revelry in her youth. It was the laughter of Ereven Ilesere and she now understood that Curudin of House Ahmaquissar was Trickster Touched.
Faerun, In the Ruins beneath Elvenport, 1374 DR.
Curudin stepped aside with preternatural grace and agility beyond that of an elf his age. The clawed hand of the Glabrezu smashed into the solid wall which was just above Curudin’s head. As he rolled off to his right, he came up to his feet with a sword in either hand. Quickly mouthing the words to a powerful spell in his mind, he stabbed the Giant beast in the ribs with his Shortsword, as he skewered the massive chest of the Hulking terror with his powerful Longsword. Both left hand and right hand working in unison to destroy the Horror in front of him and his companions. The Glabrezu, a four-armed demon with pinchers that crush stone and magic that destroys the soul and spirit of all mortals, lashed out one final time at the Divine thief. With sheer laughter in his voice, Curudin Ahmaquissar released his powerful spell of Banishment as his blades tore into either side of the demon. With infernal curses and promise of torment, the Glabrezu was sent back to the Abyss for a century.
Terrindill Shaelarrah winked at Curudin for his stunning win against the Glabrezu and then went back to work on the magical trap before him. If not for the demon’s defeat, they would all be dead. Terrindill, a Gold Elf of superb skill and innate gifts in the art of Shadows, smiled yet again when the other three companions came along after true battle it seemed. They were all battered and beaten as Terrindill clicked his last lock-Pick on the Magick door and it popped open with a silent swish. With grins and laughs, the ‘Rogues of The Laughing Twilight’ left the extradimensional space to touch foot back in Faerun once again. Night was fast upon them in Elvenport when they heard movement up ahead, soon followed by screams of terror and the otherworldly roars of some abyssal beast.
Curudin signaled his five companions in thieves cant and told them to approach the clearing in silence. As they all came closer to the forest glade, the sounds of battle broke out with fair voices shouting and bestial snarls and roars filling the night air.
Curudin and his companions took a moment to cast a few spells on themselves and prepare for whatever battle lies ahead. After a few short moments they heard a piercing screech that reverberated throughout the entire ruins of Elvenport. Curudin and his elven rogues had heard that screech many times in the past few days exploring the long abandoned elven city, so they ran as fast and silent as hunting cats through the ancient woods. As they approached the clearing Curudin cast a spell on himself to increase his strength and another to increase his already inherent preternatural speed and agility, and a third spell to ward off evil in a large radius centered on himself. Several feet to his right he heard the soft chanting of Nym Nightsong, a Star elf Shadow Mage of considerable power that has been a member of Curudin's Thieves guild, known as The Rogues of Laughing Twilight for two decades now, and a trusted lieutenant and friend. As Nym was casting his Shadow Shield on himself, Curudin looked to his left to see Laeirlefain Starleaf, a Copper elf Swashbuckler of great renown in The Silver Marches, and another lieutenant of his guild, preparing himself with several magic items. Up ahead and to either side of the clearing, out of his sight, Curudin could imagine his other three companions flanking the small forest glen that the battle was taking place in. Far ahead stalked Pheyloo Audark, a Copper elf assassin that carries enough magical daggers to take down a Storm Giant. Right behind him to either side are the Wild elf siblings Saffrathila and Sathalindle Selorn, whom are both Rogue-Rangers of impeccable talent and skill. Saffrathila, the sister, being a Justice of Weald and Woe is a spell archer, and her twin brother Sathalindle is a Dervish without equal. With a count of ten to let his companions get into flanking position, Curudin sprang into the clearing alone and was sickened by the terrible sight before him.
Nine elves lay dead around the clearing. One elf was on his knees surrounded by three Fey'ri and two towering Vrocks to either side. "Never shall you retrieve the Shattering Swords of Coronal Ynloeth." the dying elf said with defiance. The Fey'ri leader stabbed the elf patrol commander through his neck with ease, as the magical blade drank his blood and life force. Before another move was made Curudin lashed out with a powerful divine spell that created a large multi-colored hammer, which flashed and flew across the forest glen smashing the Fey'ri leader to the ground with an audible crack before it instantly flew towards the Vrock demon to it's right, and smashed the beast in it's horrid beak, sending it spinning and staggering. The Fey'ri sorcerer to the leaders right, turned around and started casting a spell, only to end in a gurgling spurt of flowing blood as Terrindill Shaelarra Shadow Pounced from the darkness of the forest right behind the spell-caster and skewered the demonic elf with his fine, magical elven thin blade, right through his neck. Curudin couldn't help but laugh out loud at the sight, as Terrindill Shaelarra; a Gold elf Shadowdancer, tipped his sword towards Curudin and chuckled at his brilliant handiwork. Terrindill then told his Shadow Companion, whom he named Vrax to attack the Vrock that Curudin's Chaos Hammer just smashed in the face and sent staggering.
The third and last Fey'ri drew it's twin blades and rushed at Curudin who stood alone in the clearing seeming comfortable and unconcerned about the two giant Vrocks before him. Before the demonic elf even went five steps towards Curudin, he was stopped dead in his tracks by a rapid flurry of magical daggers that seemed to come out of the black darkness of the woods itself. The Fey'ri turned around just in time to see the Assassin Pheyloo walk into the glade and toss one last dagger into its heart with a simple flick of his wrist that astounded the demon-elf before he died and fell face first into the soft pine needles of the forest floor.
At this moment, six spell-laced arrows shot out from high in the surrounding tree line and slammed into the Vrock closest to the edge of the forest. Each arrow carrying a different potent spell meant to hamper, cripple and kill its opponent. As the second Vrock recovered from Curudin's Chaos Hammer, it was met by a Wild elf who burst out from the shadows of the woods and threw himself at the large demon with abandon. Twin swords spinning and lashing and cutting deep into it's flesh before the beast even knew it was assaulted in melee combat. Just at that moment a powerful black lightning bolt ripped the night air and tore into the demon from behind and lifted it up into the trees with a deafening crack. By the time it landed it was charred and smoking as Curudin sped towards the monster and stabbed it through its skull with his powerful longsword. He chuckled as the beast lay dead. The second Vrock was enmeshed with a plethora of killing arrows as Laeirlefain quick stepped beside the Vrock and plunged both his rapiers into the demons face as it shrieked out a terrible scream that blasted all six rogues off their feet and shook the trees all around the glade. Curudin quickly composed himself and shook off the effects of the Vrocks death screech, while his companions took a bit longer to get to their feet. With a wry smile and a lasting grin he saluted his friends and cast a spell of Augury. After several minutes of casting the spell he came to and spoke quietly to his companions. "I see now that our next misadventure involves obtaining the Shattering Swords of Coronal Ynloeth from the depths of Hellgate Keep", he said with an impish smirk on his handsome face.
*Faerun, Deep in the Caverns of Taerymdoom. 1375 DR.
Curudin knelt before the pile of bones before him, convinced that this is the remains of the famed elven adventurer Taerym. His six companions spread out among the large cavern they now stood in, flanking all positions and keeping watch. He was further convinced of his realization by the love letter he found in a hidden pocket of the magic cloak laying under the remains of this well known elf. A love letter addressing him personally. Beside the love letter was a Wand made of Shadowtop bark and carved by skilled and ancient hands. Yes, this was certainly Taerym, the fabled elf adventurer of whom these caverns are named.
Curudin studied the wand for many moments, using all of his gained lore of ancient artifacts before his eyes lit up and flickered with inner light as he understood finally what this wand was, and how the trigger word was so subtly crafted onto the side of this curious item. He smiled and tucked the wand into the side of his belt as he stood up. Curudin then produced a medium sized flask from his pouch of holding and began a chant to Erevan Ilesere as he doused the remains and equipment of Taerym with Feywine to consecrate the bones of the legendary hero. AS Curudin held up the enchanted flask before himself, it refilled, and he poured it on the remains once more with a final blessing of his elven god. Finally, when it was empty again, he held it up to his face as it magically filled itself, and drained the entire flask in one fell swig as he looked upon the fallen legend with mischief in his eyes.
Once the enchanted flask refilled with the potent Feywine, he called over his six friends. The lieutenants of his strictly elven rogues guild, known as 'The Rogues of The Laughing Twilight'. When his companions gathered around him, he looked to his left and offered his flask of Feywine to them all.
First to drink was Pheyloo Audark, a Copper elf Rogue/Assassin/Whisperknife who drank the entire flask in one gulp while praying to Erevan Ilerese to reveal the names of the Durugar and Illithids who enslaved him and murdered his family. Once the flask magically refilled, he passed it on to his left.
Second to drink was Laeirlefain Starleaf, a Copper elf Rogue/Swashbuckler/Shadowblade who chugged the flask in two swift pulls, while giving a prayer to Erevan for a mighty duel once they return to Silverymoon or Everlund.
Third to drink the Feywine was Saffrathindle Selorn, a female Wild elf Rogue/Ranger/Justice of Weald and Woe, that sipped several times until the flask was empty again, and prayed to Erevan for more divine spells to eliminate her enemies. Once the enchanted flask filled itself she passed it on to her left, where stood her one and only true love.
Fourth to drink the magical Feywine was Nym Nightsong, a Star elf Rogue/Wizard/Shadow Adept who prayed to Erevan that he may find an ancient spell-tome to study and use in his further adventures with his current friends and lover.
Fifth to drink was Terrindill Shaelarrah, a Sun elf Rogue/Shadowdancer/Shadowlord who prayed to Erevan for a more challenging trap to disable and bypass during this current adventure. He didn't think he was asking for much.
The sixth and last to drink from the sacred flask was Sathalindle Selorn, brother to Saffrathindle, a Wild elf Rogue/Ranger/Dervish who drained the contents in three great gulps and prayed to Erevan for a Cooshie companion since his Weasel companion died during combat against Countess Sarya of the Fey'ri over a year ago in the ruins of Hellgate Keep. As he passed the refilling flask over to Curudin, he vowed to repay the witch with the keen edges of his twin longswords.
As the enchanted flask was passed back to Curudin, he took a final swig of the Feywine and put it back into his pouch of holding at the back of his belt and said a final prayer to Erevan for the fallen elf adventurer Taerym, of whom these caverns were named.
It was at this very moment that a plethora of unearthly screams resounded from the tunnels to their right. An enemy approached indeed. The quick minded companions darted out towards the cavern walls on either side to ambush and flank the approaching danger. Pheyloo cast an invisibility spell on himself and flanked towards the right, while Nym began to cast a killing spell as he slowly walked towards the left of the chamber they stood in. Terrindill blended in with the shadows of the lightless cave and called upon his Shadow companion Vrax to aid him if needed. Saffrathindle called a spell to her lips as she pulled her mighty bow from her shoulder and followed the direction of Pheyloo as he turned invisible. Her brother Sathalindle had no such compulsions as he drew his twin longswords and rushed straight towards the tunnel the otherworldly screams came from and wore a sardonic grin on his beautiful brown face while throwing a wink at his deadly sister.
Laeirlefain stood ten paces in front of Curudin with both of his elven thin blades drawn and ready to kill. Each blade a powerful Rapier unto itself, but then he enacted a single ancient elven, innate word of mystery and his twin thin blades erupted into pulsing shadows. He turned his head back to Curudin who stood at ease and relaxed, and cast a knowing sly smirk to his long time friend before he jutted forward with trails of shadow following his blades. Curudin just stood there and quietly laughed at all his companions for their efficiency and skill at ambush and direct combat.
Followed by their horrific screams, a pack of 20 Vargouilles burst into the dark cavern. Disfigured human heads, with mouths full of long fangs and wriggling tentacles and long bat wings on either side of their heads, these monsters were from the lower planes, summoned by a greater enemy to devour and destroy any invader to the cavern complex.
Saffrathindle stood her ground 20 paces to the right of Curudin and let loose a full attack of spell-arrows at the front of the approaching creatures, unleashing a plethora of hindering and immobilizing spell effects that had the monsters behind crashing and diverting to fly freely around the enabled Vargouilles in the way.
Nym Nightsong unleashed a powerful stroke of pitch black chain lightning at that same moment, instantly dropping five of the creatures dead behind Saffrathindle's spell-arrows. Sathalindle met the first three Vargouilles head on with twin blades spinning and whirling and cutting and stabbing. His onslaught of melee mastery was too much for the monsters and they all three fell dead at his feet.
Not to be undone, Terrindill shadow-stepped beside four of the abominations and skewered two of them with his fine elven thin blade and light blade, while his shadow companion Vrax began to drain the lifeforce of the remaining two with claws and teeth. It truly still amazed Terrindill that Vrax looked exactly like him, but made purely of shadows. He laughed aloud and rejoiced in the irony as Vrax sprouted identical swords from his shadowy hands to continue killing the two Vargouilles he was battling. Terrindill riposted, feigned and delivered a double thrust that slayed both monsters he faced. Vrax was simply draining their life force with every shadowy hit of his shadowy blades.
Laeirlefain stood his ground also, with twin blades at his ready, enmeshed in thick, powerful, innate shadow. Three of the monsters flew at him with jaws agape, and he ducked, spun and somersaulted in one swift maneuver while slashing and stabbing his twin Rapiers and calling out to his innate shadow abilities to deliver death blows to the three Vargouilles his two blades connected with. As Laeirlefain lightly touched back down onto the cavern floor, he was greeted by the severed remains of the foul abominations falling about him.
The last five Vargouilles sped towards Curudin and he put his hands on the hilts of his twin swords, but never even had the chance to draw the blades, as all five fell dead ten feet in front of him pierced by daggers he knew so well. Casually walking towards him was Pheyloo, who breaking his invisibility spell with the attack asked a simple question... "Do we slay rodents of the lower planes all night, or do we get something out of this at all?" Curudin just laughed!!
Two days later the rogues came upon a underground castle. A temple perhaps. No guards, no security, no visible wards that a spell could discern. Built by hands, and no magic, It was a fortress glowing green with power. Curudin could feel the warmth sucked from his very breath. AS the companions took a moment to decide what the next plan would be, the massive gate to the fortress lowered and smashed into the cavern floor with a resounding clang.
Slowly and confidently walked two powerfully evil individuals from the depths of the fortress. The sheer power and presence of these two had all seven rogues rocking back on their heels. Curudin himself had never felt such unholy power before, not even from Bateezu or Tann'ari, devils or demons. Curudin gave a sharp whistle and his lieutenants acted accordingly, preparing themselves with spells and scrolls and innate powers. Curudin himself did no such thing.
Curudin Ahmaquissar, the Moon elf, Trickster-Touched Cleric/Rogue/Mischiefmaker of Erevan Ilesere would have no such preparations. He looked to his twin blades. His longsword was a Holy symbol unto itself, regardless of whatever trinket his deity demanded he steal for a symbol of divine spells. It was a Holy Longsword called "Hidden Smile", with its sister Shortsword called "Little Sneak". He looked back up into the gaze of the two powerful creatures before him. He yelled back immediately for his friends to not look upon them and to avert their gaze.
Before Curudin stood a Vampire Lord and a Werewolf Lord!
Out flashed Curudin's twin blades, and he immediately began to channel Erevan's divine energy to destroy this powerful undead lord, and his Lordly Werewolf companion. The Trickster-Touched Moon elf exploded in rapid movement, casting two spells simultaneously, while attacking the Werewolf Lord in melee combat. The first spell was one to protect him from evil in a large radius around him, and the second spell was to increase his size and strength. Laeirlefain and Sathalindle rushed forward ten feet, only to be smitten back by a sheer force of evil power. Saffrathindle fired off five spell-arrows meant to kill and they all fell short of their mark, disrupted by some powerful shield spell. She knew then that the Vampire Lord was a wizard, and the Werewolf Lord was likely a great warrior. She feared that Curudin was going to die quickly in this battle. All the companions looked on with such dread and dismay as they all ran forward to flank the two Lords before them.
The Werewolf Lord, a large bestial terror of immense horror and power, swung his greatsword with preternatural speed as Curudin ducked and then dived over the blade with a grace and agility that gave the Werewolf Lord pause. "You will never defeat me, the great lord Nixelshevin Blackmaw." The lycanthrope said with conviction. Curudin decided to maneuver the werewolf lord to his left to avoid the Vampire lord whom was casting a spell aimed solely at him. He met the Werewolf's greatsword with both his Longsword and Shortsword and aimed the block downward as to lessen the blow which meant to cleave him in half. Curudin was positive that Lord Nixelshevin wanted to eat his still beating heart. At the same time that Curudin was having these thoughts fighting the Werewolf Lord, a familiar spell washed over him. A powerful spell cast by the Vampire Lord to hold him fast and debilitate his every attribute. He actually let the spell take effect as he looked past the Vampire lord to see his Lieutenants screaming in helpless rage, unable to get past the powerful spell of evil the Undead Lord cast on the area around the battle. Curudin was helpless it seemed. To all appearances he was unable to break the bonds of the spell the Undead lord had cast upon him, while the Werewolf lord walked up to him in bestial manner, slathering and drooling over a slow kill.
"I am lord Harrowmont Velshadoom. Meet your grisly death wretched elf." spoke the Vampire Lord in a hissing voice. "May Lord Nixelshevin Blackmaw feast on your remains!!" He raised his hand back to cast a killing touch spell, and Curudin spoke a single elven word of power! Still clutching his Holy Longsword of Erevan Ilesere, Curudin simply spoke the word "DIE", and it was a greater destroying spell, full of channeled divine might and coupled with a compulsion effect. Curudin laughed aloud when the Vampire Lord, Harrowmont Velshadoom burst into a plethora of spraying blood and Ichor and bones.
Once seemingly released from the debilitating spell of the powerful Vampire lord, curudin quickly snatched the wand from his belt that he had acquired from the bones of the dead adventurer, Taerym and pointed it at the large fell beast and spoke its trigger word. The hulking terror before him paused his advance and began to twitch and contort, but the powerful beast shrugged off the effects of the wand and lunged at the Mischiefmaker, aiming to sever his head. With the circle of unholy blight dismissed with the Vampire Lords death, the six other companions ran to the pile of blasted gore that was the slain unholy Lord and began to cut off it's head from its destroyed body and burn the remains before it could regenerate back to life. Thirty feet away the melee fight continued between the Werewolf Lord and the Mischiefmaker, with Curudin displaying a flourish of cuts and stabs and ripostes that kept the massive lycanthrope at bay. With sheer brute strength the Werewolf Lord managed to wound Curudin several times on his arms and torso, but the speed and agility of the Trickster-Touched moon elf was far too great for the beast to land a killing blow against him.
Pheyloo, Sathalindle and Saffrathilia broke away from their other three companions who continued to finalize the destruction of Lord Harrowmont, and rushed to help their leader who was engaged in melee combat with the large terrifying lycanthrope. Saffrathilia fired off three arrows at the monstrous werewolf that found their mark in its back, but if the arrows had any effect at all, it didn't show. Pheyloo began throwing dagger after dagger, including several enchanted daggers and knives at Lord Blackmaw, but again, if they had any effect the beast just shrugged them off. Sathalindle raced forward to join the melee, but Curudin shouted to them all to stand back.
"You will die at my feet elf, and I will suck the marrow from your bones.", snarled Lord Nixelshevin Blackmaw as he disengaged his glowing greatsword long enough to swing it down by his feet, behind his back and up over his head with a blow that was meant to cut the moon elf in half down the middle. Curudin dived to his left and rolled ten feet away, coming up to his feet and turning around with his Holy sword raised high into the air as he called forth a spell that brought a column of divine fire down upon the lupine terror. The werewolf lord howled in agonizing pain as the power of the spell burned its fur and melted its skin in places to slide off his bones and fall to the floor.
When the spell was over, Lord Blackmaw stood there with smoldering fur and melted flesh, with a look of pure hate on his horrible canine face. Falling into a berserkers rage, the werewolf lord threw his mighty greatsword at the moon elf and pounced, screaming "I shall rend the flash from your body and feast on your heart." Curudin's companions watched in dismay as the fell beast flew towards the Mischiefmaker with dagger-long claws extended and canine jaws wide open for an overwhelming, bestial attack that would surely overpower and kill their long time friend. Curudin Ahmahquissar sheathed both his weapons lightning fast and just stood there relaxed and confident. All six of his lieutenants cried out helplessly as the large monster was almost upon him.
At the very last second, the Trickster-Touched Mischiefmaker just simply disappeared right before Lord Blackmaws eyes as he enacted his divine ability to Side-Slip. Within the span of a single heartbeat, he reappeared behind the monstrous creature and performed a sneak attack with his short sword "Little Sneak", that critically wounded the lycanthrope, and severed its spine in half.
Lord Nixelshevin Blackmaw collapsed to the cavern floor with a thud and lay there very still. As Curudin stared down at the disabled beast, he could see the look of pure, fell rage in its evil, orange, bloodshot eyes. The moon elf pulled out that curious wand again that he found on the remains of the elf Adventurer Taerym, and with a knowing wry smile he spoke its trigger word as a ray of white energy erupted from its tip and hit the monster in its massive chest. Blackmaw's hybrid body began to contort and snap and pop audibly as the convulsions twisted his limp form. Within moments the enormous werewolf lord was replaced by a tiny orange frog as the wand of Polymorph enacted its spell.
As the Mischiefmakers companions walked up beside him, he tucked the wand back into his belt and could not suppress a heartfelt chuckle as he said "May you continue to burn in the fiery pits of Gehenna, Lord Frog!!." He then stomped the werewolf lord-turned frog with the heel of his leather boot.
Faerun, In the Dwarven ruins of Ascore, 1376 DR.
The Night Hag cackled with delight as her Ghast and Ghoul minions swarmed the six elven rogues, and her Death Knight servant kept their tall elf leader busy in combat. She began to ready a spell of decay when three magic daggers suddenly sprouted from her chest, disrupting her spell and staggering her back a few feet. The Night Hag known as Zarlemina screamed out a curse at the handsome copper elf who stood before her, thirty paces away, smirking despite the forty ghouls and ghasts surrounding him and his companions. He suddenly ducked down to the ground as four black shafted, spell-enchanted arrows flew over his head to slam into Zarlemina in her shoulders and abdomen. Another furious curse came off the Night Hags lips, but this time bringing a baleful spell of withering that washed out from her in a cone, spreading 50 feet from her emaciated form, to encompass the handsome copper elf assassin who drew three more daggers in each of his hands, and past him to Saffrathindle, the wild elf ranger who peppered her with spell-arrows. Pheyloo shrugged off the withering spell as he began to throw his six daggers at the hag, but the female wild elf was not so fortunate as the terrible spell took hold of her and she clawed her own body as she dropped to the ground moaning in pain.
Sathalindle Selorn, the wild elf brother of Saffrathindle, could not hear his sisters screams and moans as he was engrossed in the combat dance of the Dervish, lopping off arms, heads and legs of the undead surrounding him and his fellow companions. To the right of Sathalindle stood the copper elf Laeirlefain Starleaf, who had a completely different fighting style, more piercing and slashing and precise strikes than the whirlwind of attacks that was the Dervish wild elf. Laeirlefain worked his twin elven thin blades with such skill that the undead coming at him couldn't even begin to claw or bite or overwhelm him. To the left of Sathalindle stood Terrindill Shaelarrah, a Sun elf Shadowdancer who was more talented at disarming and bypassing magical traps and wards than fighting hoards of undead with his rapier and elven light blade. All the same, Terrindill held his own against the ghouls and ghasts in melee combat with the help of his Shadow Companion and his innate abilities to warp and control the shadows around him.
Behind his three friends, Nym Nightsong had been silently casting a powerful shadow-spell. The Star elf shadow mage finished his incantations with a flourish and laughed aloud as a pitch black fireball erupted from his left hand to drive into the chest of the nearest ghast and exploded the creature into a thousand pieces as it arced into a chain of dark destruction that felled no less than thirty ghouls and ghasts as it made its way around the hungry packs of undead, burning and melting flesh and bone, and slaying all in it's path. Before the spell even ended, Nym began casting another deadly evocation. Behind him, Saffrathilla continued to writhe in agony as the Night Hags withering spell wracked her body. Before he could react, he saw Pheyloo casting a quick spell of invisibility and abruptly disappear. Knowing his Assassin friend was keeping the hag busy, Nym continued to focus on his spell and the undead monsters pressing in on them all from three sides. Sathalindle, Laeirlefain and Terrindill were fighting furiously to keep the creatures from getting past them and joining the Night Hag and tearing Saffrathindle apart as she lay there helpless in the clutches of the evil spell.
Curudin Ahmaquissar ducked under the broad sword of the Death Knight as the undead warrior slashed at his neck and came forward with a shield bash only to notice the tall moon elf rolling past him while chanting something he couldn't understand. As Curudin's roll came to a stop and he pivoted on his right heel and turned around to face the knight, he held aloft his Holy long sword of Erevan Ilesere and channeled the divine might of his trickster god and smote the death knight in its face with a multi-colored beam of power. The ancient death knight known as Sir Krestov stood there transfixed, with arms open wide, dropping his archaic weapons and bellowing a loud, low moan that sounded like relief as he disintegrated into a pile of ash and armor. The Mischiefmaker immediately turned his attention to his companions and a sour frown crossed over his handsome elven face.
Curudin seen Saffrathindle laying on the ground writhing in the hag's spell, being drained of her life-force, and came to the conclusion that he had two choices. He could dispel the withering curse and ignore this creature from the lower Planes, or kill the hag outright and hopefully end the affliction. Before the Mischiefmaker could decide his course of action, he noticed the assassin Pheyloo Audark appear behind the Night Hag with his two enchanted daggers buried hilt deep in either side of her neck. Her eyes bulged out in disbelief and she opened her fanged mouth to spit out a curse of death around her, but Pheyloo retracted one of his knives to slit her throat from ear to ear while whispering something grim that only she could hear.
Nym Nightsong finished his spell and called forth a dark Ice Storm of devastating destruction that froze entire packs of ghouls and ghasts where they stood, knowing that when the spell ended the undead would be slain by the sheer power of the cold damage he inflicted on them. Nym then drew out his twin short swords and rushed to join his friends who were engaged in melee with the remaining undead, and used every skill and trick he knew as a rogue to backstab and cripple their foes. He was smiling the entire time.
The Trickster-Touched moon elf rushed to Saffrathindle and laid hands on her, placing a hand on her head and on her chest while asking Erevan Ilesere to give him the divine power to remove the curse placed on her by the Night Hag. She lay still for a few moments before she opened her eyes and reached up to kiss the Mischiefmaker on his lips in casual thanks. Her brother Sathalindle and her lover Pheyloo Audark helped her up to her feet as she drank a healing potion for good measure. The companions were discussing their next move when suddenly a cold voice spoke from behind Curudin. "Impressive work Mischiefmaker. Very impressive indeed". All seven companions turned about to see a tall Shadovar wizard, surrounded by ten shadovar warriors. The individual was seemingly important due to his clothing and the green staff held in his hand, that glowed a faint purple hue as he finished his sentence. "I am Lord Darenfell Perithintine of Shade Enclave, Arcane adviser to Prince Yder, Arcane devotee to Lady Shar and emissary of the Netherese." Curudin walked straight up to Lord Darenfell and pushed him back hard with one hand while silently calling a powerful divine spell to his mind. "So, Lord Shade, I assume you watched our plight and did nothing to help us? Or else you and your fellows were so enamored of our prowess that you were entranced with inactivity." said the Mischiefmaker with dripping sarcasm in his tone. The Shade lord stood there measuring the Trickster-Touched moon elf for a few moments before he bowed before Curudin in an archaic sweep of his staff and replied, "Not many adventurers can defeat a Night Hag and a Death Knight servant, let alone a hoard of undead at the same time. I merely waited for the outcome before I revealed our presents." Curudin walked up even closer to lord Darenfell and almost touched noses before he stood his ground and looked into the shadovars eyes.
"Choose your words wisely and speak quickly before I lose my flighty humor on your facade." Curudin calmly placed his hands over the hilts of his twin swords as he finished his statement. The Netherese lord smiled and bowed again, coming back up with a grand smile on his swarthy face. "Prince Lamorak would like his tel'kiira back, in no uncertain terms." The unbridled laughter that came from Curudin Ahmaquissar at that moment was like the angry chimes of a thousand drunk pixies. "Prince Lamorak would like back his elven wrought tel'kiira, crafted in the ancient city of Sharlarion, that Vazzelshevril Ahmaquissar himself made before the Crown Wars?" said Curudin as he shoved lord Darenfell back with an open palm to his stout chest. The shadovar lord rocked back on his heels with the sheer strength of that simple push. "Your precious prince took the Selu'Kiira Rilan'Vae from the ruins of Hellgate Keep and has no claim on the gem. It is a sacre
|5 L A T E S T R E P L I E S (Newest First)
|Copper Elven Vampire
||Posted - 10 Jul 2018 : 14:52:28
Does anyone think my revision of this template is accurate with a CR+2?
The Shadow-Walker template is a +1 CR and the Shade template from races of Faerun is a +4 CR. I'm just trying to balance this. Thank you.
|Copper Elven Vampire
||Posted - 16 Jun 2018 : 12:50:22
I think it's looking pretty good and pretty balanced so far. Still working on it. Critique welcome.
|Copper Elven Vampire
||Posted - 07 May 2018 : 08:58:47
"We could all end up dead or worse you know." said Nym Nightsong.
"We could have a riot of a good time as well." said Pheyloo Audark.
Terrindill and Laeirlefain said nothing, but both nodded and smiled.
"Let us play then. Take out the Shadovar Lord and the Demonfey Prince, and I'll focus on the Lich Queen and her pet ghosts." said Curudin Ahmaquissar with such frivolous excitement in his strong voice.
"Here, Laeirlefain, take the Lich's book with you as she will think I still have her tome. I want the four of you to shadow-walk back to Everlund if things go bad for us in this next battle. There may be Fey'ri or Shadovar waiting outside or in the surrounding area. Make sure the book makes it back to our compound and I will meet you all there if we get separated."
All of them were invisible as they silently stalked back towards the chamber of the Lich Queen. AS they approached the archway leading into the massive chamber, they were awe stricken with the sheer amount of arcane power that engulfed the room. It was a three way mage duel, with Lord Dravick Aiudoothan, Prince Yarivh Dlardrageth and the Lich Queen doing spell-battle against one another. To the onlookers, it didn't seem as if any of the three powerful mages were winning against the other.
"Now!!" whispered the Mischiefmaker. On that que the five companions pounced. The three shadow-walkers pulled the shadows about them and disappeared, only to reappear on their marks. Pheyloo landed on the back of the Shade Lord and rapidly stabbed the shadovar in his neck several times with his enchanted knives as the netherese arcanist fell to the floor spouting blood and disappeared into the shadows and was gone.
Terrindill appeared behind the lich queen and drove his enchanted elven thin blade through her back, skewering her black heart in a critical sneak attack, while thrusting his light blade into her left jaw bone, as he was suddenly tossed back in a smoking heap of pain to land hard on the floor. He immediately rose to his feet, seeing an aura of pulsating grey flames surrounding the undead horror, and with his leather armour still trailing smoke he realized the lich had powerful contingencies about her. He smiled to himself and looked around the chamber to see what other diversions he may cause to distract and confuse their enemies.
Laeirlefain shadow-stepped right in front on the demonfey prince and with lightning speed slashed his powerful elven thin blade across the fey'ri's neck, causing the sorcerer/ warrior to grab its throat and gurgle a few small sounds while it's eyes opened wide in astonishment. The copper elf's sister thin blade tore into the prince's chest just missing the heart and released a blast of frost that almost ripped open the prince's left rib cage. Laeirlefain shook his head and smirked a derogatory grin as he disappeared in a cloud of shadow.
Prince Yarivh Dlardrageth weakly reached up to the pendant at his neck and teleported back to his unholy safehouse where he slowly healed and mended his wounds, planning a thousand years of torture on 'The Rogues of the Laughing Twilight.'
Now that Yarivh Dlardrageth and Lord Dravick Aiudoothan were both dispatched from the fight, Curudin and Nym entered the chamber to face the lich queen and her two remaining ghosts. Surrounded on five sides, the female lich focused only on the Mischiefmaker, who had stolen her ancient book of spells and knowledge.
"You do not have to be destroyed. You do not need to seek another vessel once you return to your phylactery." said Curudin with sincere overtones in his voice. "If you let me leave with the book, I shall return it in three cycles of the moon henceforth and let you be." The ghosts surrounding her suddenly dissipated into mist and she threw back her crowned skull and pointed at Terrindill.
"The tome for that ones soul."
"Come wench, see if you can take it." said Terrindill with a harsh conviction to his tone.
"You all die here tonight unless you surrender to me the brash elf that damaged my precious heart."
"come take me wench." replied Terrindill as he commanded the shadows around him to gather and dance and swirl with anger. He then silently summoned his shadow companion to come forth and position himself behind the undead abomination.
"There shall be none of that lady Saharel." spoke Curudin. I do not wish to harm you or your netherese book of power. AS I said, I shall return it in three moon cycles, never to bother you again."
"Fools!!!!" The lich queen, Lady Saharel of Spellgard tower, of ancient netheril was not one to give up her secrets to thieving elves. "Fools!!, you shall all suffer death this evening."
With those words she rose both arms and cackled out a single spell that unleashed a meteor swarm of fire upon the companions. A conflagration of flames erupted throughout the chamber filling the vision of all with blindness. Pheyloo and Laeirlefain both shadow stepped into the tower room beyond the chamber archway, and Terrindill also shadow jumped into that room behind his friends as the flames tore apart the chamber of Lady Saharel. When the spell ended and the flames dissipated, the lich noticed the tall moon elf and smaller star elf surrounded in a sphere of anti-magic. Lady Saharel, the lich queen, noticed the other three elves beyond the archway, and with a mere thought waved her hand and a prismatic wall suddenly blocked the chamber from the adjacent tower room they stood in.
At that moment Nym Nightsong released his anti-magic spell and dived for a corner with a killing spell on his lips, as the Trickster-Touched moon elf dived to the opposite side of the chamber, hoping to flank the undead horror. With hatred in her burning green eyes, Lady Saharel pointed a finger at Nym and he suddenly vanished from the room in a flash of purple light. Curudin seeing this from the corner of his eye was not pleased at all.
"Enough!!!" shouted Curudin as he drew out his Holy Longsword and sister Shortsword. "I will hand over the tome if you tell me where you just sent my companion."
"Your lavender tinged friend is enjoying a night in Avernus!" laughed the lich queen.
Seeing the prismatic wall blocking the entrance to the chamber and his friends, Curudin attacked the lich with uncanny quickness and agility, but every strike or slash he delivered was met with empty air as the lich queen simply vanished and reappeared across the room. Curudin sheathed his weapons and began to cast a spell of his own as the lich spoke a powerful word and cackled in enjoyment. Curudin was suddenly encased in a box-like prison that immediately began to shrink and crush around him.
Curudin Ahmaquissar knew the spell very well and tried to suppress a chuckle as the crushing prison closed in around him. It was a powerful spell indeed, a spell that many others would surely die from. Curudin wanted the lich queen to think just that same realization. He feigned terror and begged Lady Saharel to come closer as to reveal the words to open his bag of holding before her spell squashed him to a pile of gore and bones.
"You can have your book and all the contents of my bag" cried the Mischiefmaker.
"I'll pick the book from your bones dear priest." yelled the lich queen in a unearthly joyous croak, as the crushing prison became smaller and smaller, pressing in on Curudin.
"I cannot see through this prismatic wall." said Pheyloo in a annoyed tone.
"Shadovar are appearing from the shadows down the hall, we must flee or fight." whispered Terrindill.
"You heard what Curudin said. We must get the Lich's book safely back to Everlund at all costs." said Laeirlefain to his two companions.
"But what about Nym and Curudin? We can't just leave them in there with the lich queen." said Terrindill.
"Yes we can and so we shall." replied Pheyloo.
"Nym is as powerful a Shadow-Mage as any we've all dealt with in our years of adventuring. Perhaps even more powerful than most shadovar arcanists we've fought. Trust in him my friends." Laeirlefain sternly spoke.
"But we can't just leave Curudin to face the lich." yelled Terrindill.
"Yes we can and yes we will." spoke Pheyloo again.
"Curudin is Trickster-Touched and a powerful Chosen of our god. Have faith in one or the other my friend. Either way we must leave now or fight a battle with the netherese that we may not win." Laeirlefain said reassuringly.
The three companions nodded and Shadow-Walked back to their compound in Everlund with the ancient netherese tome in their possession.
The Trickster-Touched moon elf enacted his Shadow-Trick ability, and he was suddenly encompassed in a thick haze of impenetrable shadow for a few seconds, before he laughed out aloud and bypassed the powerful magical prison, only to side-slip behind the lich queen as he thrust his holy longsword through her skull while calling out a powerful spell of disruption that blasted and shattered her head into a thousand shards of dust. His holy short sword simultaneously pierced her dark lungs as he spoke a second powerful spell of disruption and her torso erupted in a shattered spray of bones and ash.
The Lich Queen's soul ran a tempest around the chamber wailing and shrieking in hate until it finally disappeared down an adjacent hallway that led to her personal chambers. Curudin thought of following the lich's spirit to her personal quarters to destroy her Phylactery once and for all, but then remembered his promise to return the book to her. He then heard voices and footsteps approaching from the main corridor and quickly produced a ring from his pouch and placed it on his finger. With one quick glance at where Nym had vanished, he turned the ring on his finger and spoke the command word, teleporting him directly to his private chambers back at the guild complex in Everlund. He had to gather his guild members and search for Nym somewhere in Avernus, and he had to do so quickly!
In the fiery Pitts of Avernus, The Nine Hells. 1476 DR
Nym suddenly found himself thrown to the ground with a resounding popping ringing in his ears. He looked up to see a desolate, crimson landscape of charred rocks and scorched, petrified trees that were gnarled and twisted unlike anything he had ever seen in Faerun. Looking to the horizon he noticed gigantic fireballs slowly streaming across the sky in every direction. He knew exactly where he was. Avernus, the first Hell of nine. He did extensive research of the lower planes in his youth before he was exiled from Sildëyuiri for discovering, by complete mishap and mistake, the Shadow-Weave. He gazed off in all four directions before he seen what he knew to be a landmark of this particular plane. Two enormous iron towers reaching for the limitless sky above. The residence of the Dukes of Hell. At that very moment he heard movement to his left and turned around just in time to see a Malebranche lunging at him with a huge greatsword in both hands. The large beast was at least seven feet tall and full of rippling muscles and large outward pointing horns. It's skin was ash black, and it's fangs were exposed in a feral snarl as the three inch claws on it's hands curled about the pommel of the flaming greatsword it held. Nym Nightsong understood he had no time to cast a spell, so he dived towards the Baatezu while pulling out his twin enchanted short swords, and as he rolled between it's legs, he slashed the creatures ankles with enough momentum to almost sever its bones. The Malebranche fell to its face with its greatsword buried beneath it. Nym ended his slashing roll before the move was fully complete and sprung back and around towards the devil with both his short swords aimed for its skull and spine, one sword severing the spine at the back of the neck, and the other severing the spinal cord just above its hip bones. As the devil thrashed and cursed the star elf, Nym finished the brute by skewering its brains with his short sword of frost and releasing a powerful burst of ice that split its head in five pieces.
Nym looked around wild eyed with adrenaline pumping through his blood, trying to calm himself and collect his thoughts. It was then that he seen the Pit Fiend appear out of thin air only thirty feet away from him. One hand raised with a fiery whip in hand, and another hand brandishing a large bastard sword rippling with lightning. Nym sheathed his twin short swords and began casting a powerful spell. He reached into a pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out several threads of shadow silk and tossed them high into the air and spoke a single word. Instantly the spell took effect, creating a miasma of entangling swampy bog beneath the hulking horror, keeping it mired in place, while a cloud of black shadows formed above the Pit Fiends head. The beast roared and struggled but couldn't free itself. At that moment, a plethora of pitch-black mithril javelins rained down on the major devil with the fury and force of Storm Giants. All within seconds the Pit Fiend was stuck in a shadowy pool that it could not free itself from, as it was skewered from head to toe by a raging storm of shadow javelins, each one ten feet tall and coated with dripping acid. The last bolt entered the devils skull from behind and protruded from its open fanged mouth to bury itself in the charred soil before Nym's feet.
Nym Nightsong heard more cries on the blistering wind, and looked past the hulking Pit Fiend to see a hoard of devils running at full speed towards him. With one last look at the dead Pit Fiend before him, he began to cast another powerful spell and was relieved to see the rip in the fabric of reality as the gate to Faerun appeared before him. He smelt the fresh air of the High Forest and heard the laughter of Wood elves as he stepped foot into the rift. In the blink of an eye his Plane Shift spell whisked him back to the woods outside of the city of Everlund. He took a fleeting moment to thank Erevan Ilesere for being his deity of choice and calling, and then he pulled out a large flask of Skullport Sherry and drank the entire contents in one long gulp.
|Copper Elven Vampire
||Posted - 07 May 2018 : 08:56:31
When his three friends awoke, Curudin stood above them smiling and looking at them intently. As they stood up from the forest floor he noticed that their skin looked as if it was bleeding shadows, wrapping about their frames and dissipating in the soft breeze. Otherwise they looked as normal as they had always been. As they shook off the grogginess of the ritual and collected themselves proper, Curudin noticed that the shadows bleeding off of them were subtle and hardly noticeable. "Terrindill my friend, please get angry for me if you will." "Why in the nine hells should I be angry after such a remarkable moment?" "I implore you please. Find something that infuriates you and let the anger show." It took Terrindill but a short moment to find his anger and he closed his eyes and focused on it. Within a few heartbeats, Curudin noticed the shadows around Terrindill grow darker and and more collective. "Laeirlefain... How about you? Can you get angry for me, or sad perhaps?" The copper elf thought back to when his wife died beside him in a battle 20 years past against a plethora of Devils in the ruins of Myth Drannor. Curudin noticed the shadows begin to bleed off his skin slowly and in shimmering pulses. "Pheyloo, if I were to put a contract out for Lord Bevlihn Stormcrow of Shade Enclave, would you accept?" He immediately noticed the excited swirl of shadows bleeding off the assassin's skin and came to the realization that the degree of shadows whisping off his three friends depended on the level of emotion they currently felt. Their shadows were emotionally connected to their spirits, their feelings, and in the end, their control. "I would ask of all three of you to now suppress all your emotions and will away the shadow by sheer effort." The three friends looked at one another and without more than a simple thought the shadows surrounding them melted away to nothingness. "excellent, excellent indeed." said Curudin. "Now stand back and apart from one another and will your shadows to fully encompass you to its full measure." The three friends then separated and stood apart from each other and did as asked. The shadows seemed to dance and swirl and ignite as if it were living fire on each of them. The shadows roiling and churning to each elf's desire. "Splendid, simply splendid my friends." laughed Curudin. "Let us all come forth once again and be merry. Let us dance and celebrate this magnificent night." "Whispertongue, would you fancy us with a proper song of celebration?" asked the Mischiefmaker. The Mysterious elven bard nodded and began to strum his lyre and sing a song of power, of a time before the Crown Wars. The Fey minstrels joined in and soon it was a complete debauchery of excess.
"Are you guys alright?" asked Curudin later that night in private. "It was like the stars themselves darkened and pounced on me." said Laeirlefain. "For me it was as if a black hole suddenly appeared and swallowed me whole with a soft embrace." replied Pheyloo. "I fell upwards into shadow and was then slammed back into my body with the keen understanding of my new abilities." spoke Terrindill.
"I am very proud and envious of you all, my dear friends. Erevan Ilesere himself has spoken to all three of you in some way, as you all well know. We have known this was coming for a few decades now and it shall not get any easier as time passes." said Curudin as he handed over his enchanted flask to his friends to imbibe. "let us get back to our wenching and drinking and dancing before the sun rises in a few hours."
"Yes indeed. I'd like to test the bounds of my new abilities while drinking that dwarven gutbuster brew." laughed Terrindill.
"Not me my friend, I'd rather the soft burn of a Pixie Pint while discovering my newfound shadow powers." laughed Laeirlefain.
"You're all such drama-fey." said Pheyloo. "I'll just continue to enjoy the feywine thank you, and I'll figure out my shadow abilities as they come to me."
The Trickster-Touched moon elf burst out in sheer laughter and wrapped his three friends in a warm embrace and then suddenly disappeared before them, only to reappear back on the oak throne the Dryads created in the forefront of the forest glade with the bonfire centered before him.
An hour before dawn, as the nightingales went to nest, Whispertongue was awoken by a vision of himself creating a ballad of House Ahmaquissar and singing the lengthily ballad before the Princes of Shade Enclave. The vision ended with a blur of shadow and fire, shadow and storms, shadow and frost, shadow and stars! He packed up silently and walked out of the Gambol whistling the beginnings to a new ballad. One full of Mischief and trickery and coy elven deities. "To Evereska first, and then to Shade Enclave." Whispertongue thought to himself. The powerful star elf bard could hardly contain a grin, let alone a full blown smile as he silently walked south into the heart of the High Forest.
Curudin Ahmaquissar watched Whispertongue depart the Gambol glade humming a tune. As he stood there silently in the midst of an invisibility spell, watching the elven bard deep in thought, he wondered what called the star elf to depart the Gambol before dawn. "Where ever that one goes, he leaves behind a story worth hearing, and a surmountable plethora of mischief." Curudin whispered to himself under his breath.
Faerun, in the tower of Spellgard. 1476 DR.
"Beware the Litch!" yelled Pheyloo Audark as he tossed four daggers at the Fey'ri swordswoman who stood before him. all four daggers planted into the warriors face as she fell down dead. "To your right" yelled Laeirlafain at Curudin who dipped below the cunning blow of an axe aimed at his heaid from a Netherese fighter. The Mischiefmaker came up short of the swing with preternatural grace and skewered the Shade through his heart with his short sword and moved on towards the book they all seemed to want. The Lich cackled with glee as four ghosts came to its call and did battle with his friends and the Fey'ri, and the Shadovar, who all seemed to want the ancient book. Curudin asked himself several times, what are the odds of Fey'ri and Shadovar wanting this book and being here all at the same time? The Lich screeched out a ancient spell of death and all within 30 feet of the undead creature died on the spot, except for the Trickster-Touched moon elf who ran full speed at the walking nightmare to steal the ancient tome. The lich locked gazes with Curudin and raised up a hand, blasting the Mischiefmaker with a cone of force that sent the moon elf flying across the room to crash into the far wall. The other members of The Rogues of the Laughing Twilight were hard pressed on either side of the chamber fighting Fey'ri warriors and sorcerers, as well as Shadovar fighter/ magic-users.
Laeirlefain Starleaf, the copper elf rogue/ swashbuckler/ shadowblade stood alone after dispatching several Fey'ri warriors, and taunted the remaining demon-elves to come closer if they dared. At that very moment a hulking four armed fey'ri appeared out of thin air ten feet beside the copper elf, swinging his four bastard swords towards vital spots on Laeirlefain, who dropped to the ground and rolled into the fey'ri's legs to trip him up and get the beast off balance with all four swords barely missing the rogue swashbuckler. Laeirlefain then sprung up with both his elven thinblades spinning and stabbing and slicing and cutting in a frenzy of blade work that had the fey'ri swordmaster hard pressed to counter and working his bastard swords defensively. The copper elf Shadowblade then called to his innate ability to draw shadows from his thin blades and further confuse the hulking monster with trails of shadow following behind every swing and thrust of his blades. Laeirlefain scored hit after hit on the fey'ri, who roared in frustration. Finally deciding to end the fight, the copper elf swashbuckler cast Shadow-Spray on the monsters face and caused a multitude of ribbonlike shadows to instantaneously explode outward from its face, draining its strength and dazing it enough to stab the beast through its heart with his right sword, and open its neck from ear to ear with his left sword. When the Shadow-spray ended the fey'ri swordmaster fell dead at his feet and he kicked the large brute for good measure. Laeirlefain then looked about him to find all his friends engaged in similar combat.
Across the hall stood Terrindill Shaelarra, the sun elf rogue/ Shadowdancer/ shadowlord, who just finished felling three warrior-wizards of Shade Enclave. He looked across the chamber and seen Curudin get blasted against a wall by the lich's spell and also watched Laeirlefain kill a huge fey'ri swordsman with cunning and skill. His eyes fell on the female lich in the center of the chamber guarding the ancient book that all three factions were vying to have. The lich cast spell after spell, killing Demonfey and Shadovar alike. All who approached her seemed to die. Terrindill smiled and shadow jumped behind her, immediately pouncing at her back with both his enchanted elven thin blade and his elven light blade. As both his weapons pierced her emaciated flesh, he was thrown back by a powerful contingency spell that stunned him and dropped him to the floor 20 feet away from the horrible lich wracked with crippling pain. As the spells effect ended he slowly stood up only to see a shadovar warrior charging him with sword and shield only five feet away.
Pheyloo Audark, the copper elf rogue/ assassin/ Master Thrower dueled the Shadovar captain in melee combat and rolled behind a sword thrust meant to kill him and came up, rolling back towards the netherese with both knives jutting under the captain's jaw, skewering him from his throat to the back of his skull. Pheyloo held that death in his hands for a few moments before he let go with a kick of his enchanted boot and a disgusted snicker. Out of the corner of his eye he seen three more shadovar bearing down on him from the nearby shadows. Pheyloo squatted down low to the floor and pivoted on his right heel as he spun around towards the approaching shadovar warriors while reaching to both his sides and following the movement with the momentum of his spin and came around facing the netherese and snapping both hands forward, crossing in an X and letting fly six enchanted knives. All three shadovar dropped dead with two knives each embedded in their eyes. Pheyloo quickly stood up and found his next mark. He quietly cast a greater invisibility spell on himself and burst into a full run towards the ancient tome they came here to steal, and the powerful female lich that guarded it.
Nym Nightsong, the star elf rogue/ wizard/ shadow adept filled the chamber with killing magic darts that rained on all his enemies within a 40 foot cylinder. Thousands of black darts struck and exploded on impact, leaving a burning black hole of shadow that continued to deal acid damage upon his foes. Any Fey'ri or Shadovar within the cylinder of his spell fell dead with the might of his arcane shadow art. The star elf shadow-mage watched Curudin slam into the far wall with the lich's cone of force and immediately began to cast another powerful shadow spell aimed at the horrid undead sorceress. After he finished his quick incantation, he pointed his finger at the lich and five dark bolts shot from his hand and unerringly sped towards the undead monster to strike her in the chest and explode in a shower of darkness, turning two of her desiccated ribs into dust and spinning her around to the side. The female lich screeched in frustration and swung back toward the shadow-mage leveling both her arms at him as two blue-white polar rays shot at him. One ray struck his shadow shield spell which absorbed the deadly evocation, and he uncannily dodged the second polar ray by diving and rolling forward and to his side, as he came back up to his feet with frost and ice clinging to his black leather armour. The star elf shadow-mage began casting another spell at the undead horror when he felt a strong hand grab his left shoulder from behind, and before he could turn to see, he was blasted by a jolt of lightning that sent him flying across the floor towards the wrathful lich queen. As Nym got up to his knees he looked behind him to see the Shade Lord Dravick Aiudoothan dismiss his spectral hand spell and begin chanting a wicked spell of necromancy. With a lich queen before him and a Shade Lord behind him, Nym grinned a sardonic smile and drew out his twin short swords. "Let's get to know one another, shall we?" he said to both of his opponents.
Curudin rose quickly from the corner of the floor and wall that he was smashed against and cast a Blade Barrier spell on himself and began a full sprint at the ancient tome they came to steal. When the lich queen noticed him she waved her hand his way and a prismatic wave rolled towards him, but before the spell came within 20 feet of him he Side-Slipped next to the horrid undead and deftly grabbed the archaic book from its elaborate gold stand and rolled past the monster, chopping her bones and remaining flesh with his blade barrier spell. The Mischiefmaker took no time to enjoy his handiwork and continued to speed towards the exit archway.
"Stop!!!" said Lord Dravick Aiudoothan. And to Curudin's surprise the spell almost compelled him to do so. The Shadovar lord was powerful indeed.
"Sleep" yelled Yarivh Dlardrageth, and Lord Dravick stumbled and swayed under those powerful commands. The Fey'ri Prince immediately cast a powerful twin-lightning bolt at Lord Dravick and blasted the shade lord across the chamber to writhe in contorted suffering.
Prince Yarivh Dlardrageth was the youngest son of Princess Sarya Dlrardrageth, who survived the elven crusades in Myth Drannor and came back to ancient Siluvenade to claim his place among the Silver Marches.
He ignored the wounded, yet healing shade lord, and focused his attention on the tall moon elf who was limping down the corridor that lead to the gates of Spellgard.
Curudin Ahmaquissar did his best to feign his injury and lead the most powerful enemies towards him down the corridor leading towards the gates of Spellgard. There he hoped to ambush both the Fey'ri Prince and the Shadovar Lord with his guild members and companions. Quite unexpected, Prince Yarivh and Lord Dravick stayed to do spell-battle with one another, as the Mischiefmaker cast a message spell to his companions letting them know what to do next, as he continued to feign-crawl out of sight.
Laeirlefain, Pheyloo, Terrindill and Nym all broke free of their particular combats and shadow-stepped to the gates of Spellgard and gathered at the ambush point near the inside doors of the haunted tower. The three Shadow-walkers invoked their natural ability to call the darkness about them and transported themselves, as Nym cast a shadow spell to do the same. Nym Nightsong, the star elf Shadow-Mage was the only companion besides Curudin that wasn't a shadow-walker. So he cast his shadow spell of silence and another that would enhance all their physical prowess in the coming battle, as well as a waiting spell, based on contingency of teleportation, that would counterspell any attempt to keep them there, which would also leave the enemy caster stunned and vulnerable. Nym finished with a new shadow shield about himself and drew out his twin short swords, cast a invisibility spell on himself and moved beside the gates leaving the tower.
Nym Nightsong couldn't help but smile. As long as Curudin survived and set the trap, it would be a double win for the Rogues of the Laughing Twilight.
As the Demonfey prince and the Shade Lord had a impromptu mage-duel, the Lich queen and her four summoned ghosts battled the remaining shadovar and fey'ri sorcerers and warriors trying to follow Curudin and the ancient book he had stolen.
As Curudin reached the inside gates of Spellgard he looked to each of his friends and tucked the ancient arcane tome into his bag of holding and asked, "What would the Trickster himself say if we didn't have some fun?"
"We could all end up dead or worse you know." said Nym Nightsong.
"We could have a riot of a good time as well." said Pheyloo Audark.
Terrindill and Laeirlefain said nothing, but both nodded and smiled.
"Let us play then. Take out the Shadovar Lord and the Demonfey Prince, and I'll focus on the Lich Queen and her pet ghosts." said Curudin Ahmaquissar with such frivolous excitement in his strong voice.
All of them were invisible as they silently stalked back towards the chamber of the Lich Queen. AS they approached the archway leading into the massive chamber, they were awe stricken with the sheer amount of arcane power that engulfed the room. It was a three way mage duel, with Lord Dravick Aiudoothan, Prince Yarivh Dlardrageth and the Lich Queen doing spell-battle against one another. To the onlookers, it didn't seem as if any of the three powerful mages were winning against the other.
"Now!!" whispered the Mischiefmaker. On that que the five companions pounced. The three shadow-walkers pulled the shadows about them and disappeared, only to reappear on their marks. Pheyloo landed on the back of the Shade Lord and rapidly stabbed the shadovar in his neck several time
|Copper Elven Vampire
||Posted - 07 May 2018 : 08:44:49
Lord Darenfell visually brimmed with seething rage at those words. The shadovar warriors surrounding him fell into a attack formation guided by their captain and awaited their commands. "I suppose you don't have the tel'kiira on your belongings at this moment you wretched elf, do you?"
"The Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae has a name." said Curudin with a wide, grim smirk on his lips. "Can you speak it's name lord Shade?" "It's the Shadow Gem of Sharlarion, is it not?" said the netherese lord. "Yes... and so much more. Please tell prince Lamorak yourself that I stole the gem from him as fairly as he found it himself in the ruins of Hellgate Keep." "It does not belong to him whatsoever!" said Curudin as he poked his finger into the chest of the powerful Shade lord. " You tell him this yourself and feel the shame of defeat as you and your warriors walk away with nothing but my gratitude in not slaying you all right now, right here." The Trickster-Touched moon elf looked at lord Darenfell keenly and spat in his face with a smirk on his elven lips. "You're a mere messenger, so take a message to your vile, weak Prince of Shar and tell him that I will bring down all of Shade Enclave before I give up The Shadow Gem."
Lord Darenfell Perithintine had enough of this verbal abuse and raised his green staff to cast a killing spell upon Curudin. But before the Shade lord could utter a word, Curudin reacted with lightning speed and drew a knife from his belt to find a home in the chin of the the Netherese shade. With preternatural quickness the moon elf opened the shadovar's neck from ear to ear with a spinning slash of his powerful longsword. At the same moment, Terrindill Shaelarra shadow-stepped behind the netherese warrior captain and skewered his skull with a single quick stab of his fine, enchanted elven thin blade. "Take this message back to your beloved Prince Lamorak... Next time I choose to enter Shade Enclave, it won't be to steal back an ancient elven artifact, but to steal the very life force from his soul." The Mischiefmaker looked directly into the eyes of the warrior to the dead wizards right, and compelled him to carry on the message with a mere glance. All of Shade Enclave will soon hear of this failure. Curudin Ahmaquissar could only smile at the possibilities it would bring.
Faerun, In Turlang's Woods; The northern High Forest. 1376 DR
Curudin Ahmaquissar, The Trickster-Touched Mischiefmaker of Erevan Ilesere sat in the oak throne created for him by the four dryads who protected this particular glade of the High Forest. It was The Midnight Gambol! The tall, handsome moon elf was pleased by the outcome of tonight's celebrations. As the ranking High Cleric of Erevan Ilesere in the Silver Marches, he was expected to host the Midnight Gambol once a month at a different location. This particular Midnight Gambol was something special indeed. Creatures and humanoids of all races and kinds gathered about. From the many races of the Fey, to elves and dwarves and a human or two. Animals both magical and mundane, monsters benign and feral. All were welcomed at Curudin's Midnight Gambol! Treants, dryads, quicklings, blink dogs, cooshies, fairy fiddlers, grigs, swanmays, Werebeasts, elves, dwarves, halflings, gnomes, humans and any other willing or fortunate being who happens to stumble upon the festivities.
Tonight was a special night. Terrindill Shaelarra, the sun elf Rogue/ Shadowdancer, Laeirlefain Starleaf, the copper elf rogue/ swashbuckler/ shadowblade and Pheyloo Audark, the copper elf rogue/ assassin were going through the ritual of the Shadow Walker. This ritual was imparted to Curudin by the Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae, as well as several other schools of shadow first discovered by the elves of ancient Sharlarion. It was Vazzelshevrill Ahmaquissar himself that created the Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae by the behest of Erevan Ilesere. The High Lore Gem contained the original lost arts of shadow, that has since been written down and shared among the other races as they are known today.
The five schools of shadow that the Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae teaches and imparts are as follows; The art of the Shadowblade. The art of the Shadowdancer. The art of the Shadow-Mage. The art of the Shadow Lord. The art of the Shadow-Walker. The art of the Shade. Any Cleric of Erevan Ilesere can obtain this information freely upon placing the Gem upon their brow. Many races have copied these skills and abilities and have watered down the true art form of the individual talents, but only the Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae imparts the powerful, ancient knowledge of shadow and trickery that Erevan Ilesere himself shared with Vazzelshevrill Ahmaquissar during the height of elven wisdom in the city of Sharlarion. The High Art of the Shadow Gem has been written down in books and passed down to other races to be utilized in lesser forms as we see today in the Shadowdancer prestige class , or the Shade template, but those are mere copies and a much lesser form of the true Art contained in The Shadow Gem of Sharlarion.
Curudin called for silence during the Gambol as he instructed the Sun elf to call forth his shadow companion and shadow dance together for the fey crowd as he began the rite of Shadow-Walking. The glade grew darker than night and the natural shadows surrounding the bonfire erupted into pitch black as Terrindill summoned his shadow companion to join in the ceremony. They began to dance to the sullen sounds of the faerie Fiddlers and the cacophony of the present fey beings that chose to stay invisible. The Mischiefmaker could only smile as Laeirlefain and Pheyloo joined the dance. Pheyloo cast an assassins spell to enmesh his body with shadow from head to toe, making him almost indistinguishable from Terrindill's shadow companion, as Laeirlefain called upon his innate ability of Shadow and Stealth and pulled shadows from his Unseen Weapons and willed them to cover his entire form as he continued to dance and leap and masterfully spin his blades that seemed to trail deep shadows as they cut the empty air. Curudin recited the words imparted to him by the gained knowledge of the Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae.
Pheyloo Audark, the Copper elf assassin, suddenly began to toss multiple knives and daggers at Terrindill and Laeirlefain and himself while they danced with his shadow companion. A steady stream of blades came at them all as they whirred and ducked, reached and bent for every last blade thrown at them or tossed back into the air by foot or hand in their trance. As they caught them one by one, they would send them back up into the air to be caught again as they fell towards them and thrown at their feet in a circle that resembled an asymmetric star. The shadows surrounding them and the shadow companion grew darker and more thick as they leaped and fell, and jumped and quickly turned about again to grab two long knives each from the ground and cut open his forearms and let his blood spill onto the forest floor. The surrounding shadows eagerly sped towards the open wounds and infused their elven spirits with shadow-stuff to the point of breaking. Curudin continued chanting and weaving his arms and swaying his body as the ritual engrossed him and brought him closer to the apex of the melding of shadow and spirit. He smiled and laughed and screamed in joy as his three friends neared the end of their dance, and his voice boomed and resounded with power as he spoke the last words to the ancient elven ritual. The entire glade was cast into a impenetrable darkness that lasted a few heartbeats and left a deafening silence in its wake.
Terrindill, Pheyloo and Laeirlefain heard the fading sounds of the Griggs, chirping their legs in harmony with the drums of the Redcaps and the melodies of the faerie fiddlers and the voices of the pixie warriors and the strum of the lyre being played by the elven bard known as "Whispertongue", that always attended Curudin's Midnight Gambols, as they drifted off into oblivion. The last thing they remembered was the laughing... the melodic laughing of a strange, powerful voice. "You are welcome. You are blessed. You are shadows in the darkness!" A voice they had never heard before, but also seemed to be very, very familiar. Then sweet silence as they fell into darkness.