The Lost Lands
Aldoron Lumiere (Deceased)
Str: 18/61 3hit
Dex: 16 Rex Adj+1 Missle +1hit DefAdj-2
Con: 13 Sys Shck 85% ResSur 90%
Int: 16 No. Lang 5, Spell lvl 8th, Lrn Spell 70% Spell/Level 11
Chr: 9 Max No. Hench 4
AC : 8
HP : 7/7
Weapons: Longsword 5dmg
C Longbow 2dmg(If masterwork bow)
Weapons Prof: Longsword *
Items: Hemp Rope, Chalk, 32 Iron Pitons, Small Metal Mirror, Small Hammer, Ring of Water Walking
Small Belt Pouch, Quiver (40), BackPack, Normal Rations 3 Weeks.
Money Personal: 3g 16sp 99cp
Spells: Armor, Chill touch, Color spray, Enlarge, Erase, Feather Fall, Identify, Charm Person, Spook, Prot. From Evil,Magic Missle, Shield.
Languages: Common, Orcish, Goblin, Kolbold, Fae, Elvish
Non Wep. Prof. : Swimming, Rope Use, Bowyer, Fire Building, Navigiation, Running, Set Snares.
The sound of roaring thunder filled my ears. I looked up at the sky as a huge red blue nimbus enveloped the dawn sky. Then there was a flash, and pain. Pain so unbearable that the images of entire cities flash burning, were embedded in my memory. Pain so torturous that I may never forget that fateless day. I had watched dazed as people, my people, ran screaming away for the horror that unfolded. Some, the weak and the elderly died soon after the impact, the life leeched straight from their bones. I watched as in the wake of the poison from The Impact, trees withered and died were they stood. Grass blackened and turned to ash. The very land itself was dieing. Birds dropped out of flight and I felt as each small animals life winked out one by one. People were running, some not fast enough. I was one of the so called ‘lucky’ ones. But to have your entire race slowly start dieng out, most in and instant, is not luck. It is a heartless act of Fate.
I close my eyes, and the nightmare fades. “Where am I?” I open my eyes at the sound of a dripping noise followed by a deep guttaral snort. I roll over and come face to face with our drooling halfing priest… “Oh, right.”
Current activity, working on Mastercraft Bow