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Thursday Scales of War 8-11 PM eastern (alternating with MadHermit)

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    #61
    Re: Thursday Scales of War 8-11 PM eastern (alternating with MadHermit)

    No one knew where exactly the boy came from, only that Dante had been dropped off at the orphanage by a wandering druid. The druid had been a man of few words, muttering only that the foundling seemed to have some affinity to fire and light before donating a thin purse of coins and leaving the boy behind.

    That seemed ominous enough to the orphanage staff, they certainly didn't need a pyromaniac living in their care, but their fears soon proved to be unfounded. Certainly, the child would stare into the fire with a seemingly unending fascination, but he had none of the fiery temperament they had expected from a child with such brilliant red hair. Instead, Dante was calm, patient, and quite introspective. He was somewhat distant from the other children, but still treated them kindly and with respect.

    The caretakers didn't suspect there was anything extraordinary about Dante until a particularly cold winter day half a year after the boy had been left in their care. There was a roaring fire in the hearth, and true to form Dante could be found not far away, staring into the flames. The other children were nearby as well, enjoying the warmth of the blaze and poking it with sticks while the old caretaker responsible for them for the hour snoozed in a creaky rocking chair. A couple more daring of the boys lay their sticks in the fire long enough to light the tips, then began a daring mock fencing match with their flaming brands, careful to make little noise to avoid waking the old sitter. It was all quite amusing until the burning tip of one of the sticks broke off and flew into a nearby window curtain.

    The watching children gave a shriek as the curtain caught flame, the fire spreading quickly up the thin cloth. The old caretaker woke with a start and took in the situation as quickly as his sleep-dulled wits would allow. He quickly began ushering the shrieking children out of the room that was now filling with smoke, shouting a warning to the other adults in the building. Dante sat quietly through it all, simply watching, and he was completely missed by the old man in his haste and was left alone in the room.

    Moments later, several panicked caretakers flooded into the room toting various containers filled with water in each hand, intent on slowing if not stopping the blaze. Much to their astonishment, the fire was already gone! The only evidence that there had been a situation at all were the char marks on the wall where the fire had begun to spread. Young Dante was there though, standing by the window and looking out, his flame colored hair shining in the rays of sunlight streaming in. "Fire is dangerous," he faithfully intoned, "It should not be played with."

    Puzzled as the adults were, they chocked up the situation to mere lucky happenstance. Perhaps the fire had simply consumed the curtains then died naturally. The wiser among them felt doubt though, there was just no way that the dry lumber of the orphanage wall wouldn't have gone up in flame while the curtains burned. Still, little harm had been done, and after thoroughly scolding the miscreants responsible for the upset, life simply went on.

    ................

    Later that spring several of the boys had escaped the orphanage, intent on dodging their chores for a day while they explored the nearby hills and forest. Although it was somewhat out of character for him, Dante allowed himself to be convinced to accompany the other children on this lark.

    The first hour went by splendidly. The boys capered about, exploring and exclaiming over each exciting discovery. There was a squirrels nest, high in a tree, silly young squirrels playing tag around it. A spring with fresh, clear water poured from the ground, the water bitterly cold, and they dared each other to see who could hold their feet in it the longest. One boy discovered a cave in the side of a hill, which none of them were quite brave enough to explore without a source of light; although their echoing voices beckoned them inside.

    Then came the first frightening discovery... A footprint. Quite large. Similar in shape to that of the old house cat kept by one of the orphanage caretakers, whom they quite enjoyed teasing. No, this print was ten, no, a hundred times larger! They wondered what kind of beast could possibly have made such a mark, and there were several theories. A wolf! A bear! A were-tiger! Several others who were equally far afield. Quiet Dante chimed in, "It looks like a mountain lion print. A big one. I've seen them before, when I traveled with the druid. Heard them too. They make this odd scream, it sounds like..." and he made a credible attempt at mimicking the cry of a mountain lion, though far too high pitch and breaking towards the end. Somewhere nearby, a far more convincing cry, deeper and more menacing, echoed through the forest.

    The boys all froze, their eyes going wide as saucers. "What do we do?" one hoarsely whispered "If it finds us, we'll never outrun it!" "Maybe we could hole up in that cave," suggested another, "Block the entrance with something until someone comes?" None had a better idea, and they were spurred into premature action when a low growl sounded somewhere in the opposite direction from the cave. Their hearts jumped into their throats, and their feet flew into motion quite by their own accord.

    The cry of the great cat followed them, then the sound of padded feet running on dry leaves, if any of the boys could hear over the sound of their own panicked breaths. They fairly flew into the thin cave opening, ignoring the darkness within and quite forgetting to look for some method of blocking it. They found each other in the dark and huddled as far into the cave as they dared, wide eyes staring at the bright light of the cave mouth. None dared to move about, scarcely they dared to breath.

    There was a snuffling sound somewhere outside the cave. It drew nearer, and a shadow started to form in the light at the cave mouth.

    Dante breathed in slowly, then let it out. In the dark, his hand traced motions he had seen the druid use when calling upon elemental spirits. He knew they would answer him. They had before, when he put out the fire at the orphanage. Fire had always been eager to serve him.

    A sudden blaze sprang forth a the cave mouth, filling it entirely. The cougar gave a startled cry and sprang back. The boys inside the cave cried out as well, startled by the sudden bonfire that had sprung into existence not fifteen feet away.

    Through teeth gritted in concentration, Dante spoke to assure them, "Don't worry, this is just a spell I learned from the druid, though he told me not to let anyone see that I could do it." He held his concentration while the boys drew away from him a little, whether in wonder or in horror, he didn't dare spare a glance to discover.

    After a few tense minutes, it became apparent that Dante's concentration wasn't going to waver, and the bonfire held in place. The boys could hear the pacing and frustrated yowls of the mountain lion outside, but it didn't dare approach the blaze. In the light of the bonfire, the boys found, to both their relief and chagrin, that the cave was quite shallow. There would be no escape through a convenient back cave. They were stuck, and simply had to pray that the red haired boy's magic would hold out long enough for help to come looking for them.

    Dante did hold out. He held and held and held, his focus drawn to a needle point, staring into the magical flames at the mouth of the cave. For hours he held his concentration unwavering, ignoring the discomforts of his body, the hunger gnawing at his gut, and the fatigue in his mind. The other boys complained about their own discomfort, but at least no one was cold, the bonfire saw to that.

    There was no way to know when the mountain lion left, no way to be sure that it wasn't just quietly waiting outside to leap once the fire died down. For six hours, Dante blocked the entrance to the cave. He was pale, sweat-soaked, and shaking when human voices outside finally convinced him that he could relax. It was dark out, and the search party had finally found the boys by the light of the fire that shown from the side of a hill.

    Strong arms carried Dante out, for he had lost consciousness shortly after the fired died down. The other boys, jittery but excited, told the tale as they were led back to the orphanage. The adults exchanged worried glances. Some proposed that perhaps he had genasi blood in his ancestry, or maybe that of a dragon. Others stated that the boy was plainly gods-touched. One thing was certain though, he couldn't stay. Such power would only cause problems.

    After much debate, caretakers finally determined that it would be best if Dante were passed to the priesthood of Pelor. Surely the lord of light and life, the sun god, could make use of a child so gifted (or cursed, as some may have whispered) with the element of fire.

    And so Dante was shipped off again, cloistered in a remote monastery of Pelor, where he learned the ways of the priests and found himself well suited for them. He studied arcane lore, holy scripture, history, and medicine. Best of all, staring into the flame was no longer questioned, but was widely met with approval as holy devotion, rather than unhealthy fascination.

    So begins the tale of Dante Flamehair, Cleric of Pelor.

    ---------------

    Wall of text crits you for 10d10 psychic damage!

    To explain what happened mechanically, Dante is a human with the Magic Initiate feat and the druid cantrips Control Flames and Create Bonfire.
    Last edited by Uglybugger; 05-03-2016, 10:36 AM.
    DDO Character (Ghallanda) - Heffe el Fossa

    Comment


      #62
      Re: Thursday Scales of War 8-11 PM eastern (alternating with MadHermit)

      OK so I bought a laptop while in Orlando... I had been considering replacing my iPad but didn't want to spend that much, so I grabbed a low end laptop that should be able to run Mumble, Fantasy Grounds and Hero Lab.

      I have Mumble up and running using my phone as a wireless hotspot and am about to download and install Fantasy Grounds :)

      If things go well I should be present for the finale Thursday!
      --Daemoro

      I was once told that if I continued along my current course that I would be ostracized. I replied "I don't know what that is, but it doesn't sound pleasant for me OR the ostrich."

      "I'm the funniest person I know."

      Comment


        #63
        Re: Thursday Scales of War 8-11 PM eastern (alternating with MadHermit)

        Originally posted by Daemoro View Post
        If things go well I should be present for the finale Thursday!
        Now that's dedication!
        -Mad

        The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure and the intelligent are full of doubt.
        ~Bertrand Russell

        Comment


          #64
          Re: Thursday Scales of War 8-11 PM eastern (alternating with MadHermit)

          I REALLY hate to miss games :)

          Anyone want to take bets on which is the harder sell:
          A) I sold my Warhammer 40k models and that amount covers the cost of a new laptop with about $25 left over.
          B) We are in Orlando in a nice resort and Thursday night is "game night" so I'm going to need you to be quiet.

          :eek:
          --Daemoro

          I was once told that if I continued along my current course that I would be ostracized. I replied "I don't know what that is, but it doesn't sound pleasant for me OR the ostrich."

          "I'm the funniest person I know."

          Comment


            #65
            Re: Thursday Scales of War 8-11 PM eastern (alternating with MadHermit)

            Originally posted by Daemoro View Post
            I REALLY hate to miss games :)

            Anyone want to take bets on which is the harder sell:
            A) I sold my Warhammer 40k models and that amount covers the cost of a new laptop with about $25 left over.
            B) We are in Orlando in a nice resort and Thursday night is "game night" so I'm going to need you to be quiet.

            :eek:

            B
            sigpic

            Comment


              #66
              Re: Thursday Scales of War 8-11 PM eastern (alternating with MadHermit)

              Well since A was handled last night with no argument just an "oh". I'm guessing B is going to be the tough one. We will see :)
              --Daemoro

              I was once told that if I continued along my current course that I would be ostracized. I replied "I don't know what that is, but it doesn't sound pleasant for me OR the ostrich."

              "I'm the funniest person I know."

              Comment


                #67
                Re: Thursday Scales of War 8-11 PM eastern (alternating with MadHermit)

                Master of married life aka Daemoro has successfully penciled in Thursday night. It's all about timing!
                --Daemoro

                I was once told that if I continued along my current course that I would be ostracized. I replied "I don't know what that is, but it doesn't sound pleasant for me OR the ostrich."

                "I'm the funniest person I know."

                Comment


                  #68
                  Re: Thursday Scales of War 8-11 PM eastern (alternating with MadHermit)

                  You have advantage on all married diplomacy rolls.

                  nice background ugly

                  Comment


                    #69
                    Re: Thursday Scales of War 8-11 PM eastern (alternating with MadHermit)

                    Any upcoming nights the server may be up so we can sneak in and build our dudes?
                    sigpic

                    Comment


                      #70
                      Re: Thursday Scales of War 8-11 PM eastern (alternating with MadHermit)

                      Here is my totally awesome and detailed background for my character.









                      a shadowy figure enters the room and says "I'm a rogue"

                      Comment


                        #71
                        Re: Thursday Scales of War 8-11 PM eastern (alternating with MadHermit)

                        Originally posted by EddytEagle View Post
                        a shadowy figure enters the room and says "I'm a rogue"
                        Don't forget, you have to be heroic too!

                        "I'm a heroic rogue."
                        DDO Character (Ghallanda) - Heffe el Fossa

                        Comment


                          #72
                          Re: Thursday Scales of War 8-11 PM eastern (alternating with MadHermit)

                          And they can't be shadowy or they'd be scared of themselves. So:

                          A figure enters the room and says, "I'm a heroic rogue."

                          P.S. You have the most holywood backstory so far... two rewrites.
                          -- Voice of Doom (tm) --

                          Comment


                            #73
                            Re: Thursday Scales of War 8-11 PM eastern (alternating with MadHermit)

                            It seems we have all the major bases covered so I'm going ahead and pulling the trigger. I know I said I would wait until everyone else had picked but it's close enough and if there is some overlap it won't hurt anything plus I don't have all the details solid on the build yet, still room for a lot of wiggling about with this backstory:

                            Detective Nick Grey walked down the shadowed side of the street in the near sunset gloom just a few blocks from his office. The chill that ran down his spine wasn’t due to the temperature. He noticed right away the absence of certain people. Most of the folks walking the street right now would be clueless that there were no beggars or whores anywhere to be seen. But Nick noticed. He always noticed things, that’s why he was good at his job. Well not just that, but that was one of the features that made him a good Detective. The Investigators Guild had trained him some to be sure, but he would never have gotten in without some natural talent… at least that’s what he told himself. How many times had he explained to someone that everyone thinks they are good at something, and sometimes they are right, but there’s always somebody better. He dropped the little wooden token shaped like an eye back into his pocket. He didn’t have anyone to slip it to. As a matter of habit he checked the dagger tucked under his coat on his hip. He was beginning to wish he had worn his rapier as well, but wishes were fishes and he didn't have any bait. So he straightened his hat and kept walking. Something was going on and he hadn’t been given a heads up… that didn’t necessarily mean that it had anything to do with him… but wishes were fishes. Two more blocks and he knew there was only one place to go for answers. He started jogging towards the “secret” headquarters to the thieves guild.

                            About three blocks from where he would turn off the street into the alleys he cringed when he heard a voice call from a deep set doorway of a shop, he chalked up the mistake to concentrating too much on how he would open the dialogue with Chester when he got there… “Hey Peeper! Where’s the fire?” said the voice. “In your eyes Lieutenant Bradshaw.” Nick replied slowing to a stop and facing the big man. He looked like a sack of suet stuffed into a city watch officer uniform, but the despite his size he was able to hide from Nick, which wasn’t easy for a small man. Bradshaw had grown up on these streets too, and was smart and ruthless enough not only to get a job with the city watch which was at the very least three hots and a cot but also to rise through the ranks to a low level officer’s position. Bradshaw stepped a bit closer to Nick and darted his eyes up and down the street. “I’ll ask you more plainly Detective. Where are you headed in such a hurry?” Nick gave a lopsided grin “Just getting some exercise Lieutenant.” injecting the same amount of derision into the title that Bradshaw had. “So it wouldn’t have anything to do with your employer being down at the magistrate’s office right now would it?” Nick tried not to freeze up at the simple question “He’s probably just swearing out a warrant on one of the cases I finished for him recently.” but Nick knew that wasn’t true. His last case had been big. Big enough that a local magistrate wouldn’t be involved. It was Noble maneuvering. There were a dozen reasons that Duke Pillows could be at a magistrate’s office… but Nick knew when he coupled that clue with the things he hadn’t seen since he left his office that it wasn’t true. Bradshaw barked a short laugh “You keep telling yourself that Grey. I think your number’s up and I’m going to be the one to cash in.” Nick held out his hands in mock surrender “So you hauling me in?” “Not just yet, not just yet.” “Well I’ll just finish my jog then.” Nick tipped his hat and started off down the street again.

                            After winding through a maze of alleys he finally came to a staircase leading down into what most people would think was nothing but the cellar of an abandoned shop that had been gutted by a fire. The place looked ready to collapse… not the place anyone in their right mind would willingly walk into the cellar of. A rag covered man huddled at the bottom of the stairs reached up as Nick approached and pulled open the door. The boards “sealing” the entryway shut swung away from the wall with the door silently. As Nick began to pitch the beggar one of his eye shaped chits the man held up his hand and shook his head. Another clue. A marker was way too big a tip for opening a door and refusing it meant it was worthless. So it was that bad. Nick signed his thanks to the man and received the appropriate polite return signal. Nobody inside met his eye, so he walked straight to the “Throne Room” as Nick always referred to it in his head. Chester was sitting in her seat behind her desk when he entered, writing something down. The scritch scritch of the pen on parchment the only sound in the room Nick could make out besides the beating of his own heart and his still somewhat labored breath, he hated running. While she wrote Nick took a moment to examine the contents of her desk. A couple of wooden lacquer boxes sized for documents and scrolls and a neat writing set dominated the space. One of the gold pen holders empty for obvious reasons. He was stalling and he knew it. The bowl at her right elbow was filled with his little wooden eye tokens. He mentally chided himself for not keeping better track of how many markers he had out. He had deluded himself into thinking that it was entirely possible for “shrinkage” to occur over the years. But the contents of the bowl had to contain every chit that Nick had ever replaced over his career.

                            When Chester blotted the ink dry and slid the parchment off to the side she looked up at Nick and gave a sad smile. “Guess I’m sucking hind tit here.” Nick said ruefully. Chester nodded “Yeah. Happens sometimes.” “Happens.” Nick replied in the common fatalistic view of those who grew up on the streets. “It always amazed me how someone like you who could have done about anything decided to pursue the career you did, the way you did. But you chose the streets and were accepted. You know enough about us to know how rare it is for someone on the outside to be accepted.” Nick sighed “Well I always tried to be fair to you and yours.” he said hopefully. “You have. That’s why you get the deal.” A young man walked into the room and dropped a heavy pack on the floor next to the door. Nick noticed his rapier on top. “That the deed to my place?” Nick asked gesturing at the parchment Chester had been writing on. She nodded and slid it across the desk to him. He glanced over it quickly and noticed that it was dated two years prior as collateral against gambling loans. Nick snorted “Gambling loans? Nobody who knows me will believe that…” and another small piece clicked into place “Thanks.” he finished simply as he signed and sealed the document, being sure to post date it to the appropriate time frame. Leaving like this his guild would know that he had been set up. They wouldn’t help find him and would likely hide him if needs be. Duke Pillows may find himself without any professional help in the future, and may even regret whatever scheme he had launched to try to eliminate Nick to keep him silent. Nick didn’t know which job he had done for the Duke was his undoing, but evidently it was something that made the Duke want Nick out of the picture. He remembered a reference to this type of behavior in a lesson a long time ago. It was really just a footnote since it didn’t happen that often, but guilds like to be thorough, and he had been warned. As he turned to pick up the pack Chester threw the bowl of tokens in the fire. Clean slate.
                            Last edited by Daemoro; 05-07-2016, 08:11 PM.
                            --Daemoro

                            I was once told that if I continued along my current course that I would be ostracized. I replied "I don't know what that is, but it doesn't sound pleasant for me OR the ostrich."

                            "I'm the funniest person I know."

                            Comment


                              #74
                              Re: Thursday Scales of War 8-11 PM eastern (alternating with MadHermit)

                              Originally posted by Makuzi View Post
                              Any upcoming nights the server may be up so we can sneak in and build our dudes?
                              I can have it up some time on the weekend or on Monday or Tuesday. When would work for you?
                              Because he's a very very very old man. And like all rotten bastards, when they get old, they become lonely. Not that that has any effect on their disposition. But they do learn the value of company.

                              Comment


                                #75
                                Re: Thursday Scales of War 8-11 PM eastern (alternating with MadHermit)

                                @Grapper: Since backgrounds are built to be somewhat malleable and there is an Investigator (variant of City Watch) in the Sword Coast book is it OK to use that background since it's already built? I could basically get the same thing from choosing criminal or guild crafter but I thought the actual Investigator from a book, even a forbidden one, might be better than making up an investigator background :)
                                --Daemoro

                                I was once told that if I continued along my current course that I would be ostracized. I replied "I don't know what that is, but it doesn't sound pleasant for me OR the ostrich."

                                "I'm the funniest person I know."

                                Comment

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