• Tempest, level 2
  • Halfling, Sorcerer
  • Spell Source: Storm Magic
  • Background: Arcane Agent (+2 to Stealth)
  • Str 9, Con 13, Dex 18, Int 10, Wis 10, Cha 18.
  • Str 9, Con 13, Dex 16, Int 10, Wis 10, Cha 16.
  • AC: 16 Fort: 13 Reflex: 16 Will: 18
  • HP: 30 Surges: 7 Surge Value: 7
  • Arcana +6, Diplomacy +10, Bluff +10, Intimidate +10
  • Acrobatics +7, Dungeoneering +1, Endurance +2, Heal +1, History +1, Insight +1, Nature +1, Perception +1, Religion +1, Stealth +7, Streetwise +5, Thievery +7, Athletics
  • Level 1: Tempest Magic
  • Level 2: Dual Implement Spellcaster
  • Sorcerer at-will 1: Lightning Strike
  • Sorcerer at-will 1: Acid Orb
  • Sorcerer encounter 1: Pinning Bolt
  • Sorcerer daily 1: Howling Tempest
  • Sorcerer utility 2: Sorcerous Sirocco
  • Goblin Totem Dagger +1, Stanching Cloth Armor (Basic Clothing) +1, Amulet of Protection +1, Magic Dagger +1

Well, I used to live in a forest. It was really nice, with lots of trees, and a toadstool garden. There was a village nearby, and they kept pestering me to move out. The village elder wanted to build something, I never found out what.

Not that long ago, really, a big half-orc showed up at my door, banging up a storm and yelling that I had been eating babies and killing anyone that came into the forest. Really. When I opened the door to set the record straight, she was less than willing to listen. But I do have a few tricks up my sleeve, so after giving her the run-around for a few minutes, she actually got the picture that I wasn’t the kind of halfling that had an appetite for baby-meat.

The next thing I knew, I was being dragged into the village and displayed by the scruff of my neck in front of the village council. The half-orc, one Justice Belle, was a cleric. She did not take kindly to being deceived. Not that she particularly cared that my home might possibly get flattened, the poor little toadstools crushed and all of my worldly possessions tossed out and strewn about like rubbish. No, she did not mind that so much. As an afterthought, she had them apologize. But their apology was worth less than nothing, because as soon as Justice Belle had taken me out of my little hut, a group of enormous men used sledgehammers and oxen to knock down my house.

While I was not quite angry enough to eat their children, nor was I exactly in a murderous attitude toward the half-orc, I demanded compensation. They gave me ten silver pieces for my house, nothing for my lovely garden. And Justice Belle did not apologize. Though, she did not complain when I decided to tag along with her. Not that I’ll ever let her forget the part she played in the demolition of my lovely house.


Seekers of Arkantaash antilogic1