Fighter: Weapon Master
Name = Allys Sylvara
Align = NG
Class = Fighter: Weapon Master (Long Sword)
Race = Human
Phys = Fem, M, 5’7", 22yo, 130lbs, blond/blue
Level = 5
HP = 41
AC = 18 (Touch = 13)
Initiative = +3
Base attack = 5
STR = 17 (3)
DEX = 16 (3)
CON = 12 (1)
INT = 12 (1)
WIS = 10 (0)
CHA = 12 (1)
Armor and Saves
Fort = 8
Reflex = 4
Will = 1
CMB = 8
CMD = 20
- Climb = 6
- Craft = 5
- Disable Device = 5
- Handle Animal = 5
- Intimidate = 5
- Knowledge Dungeoneering = 5
- Knowledge Engineering = 5
- Profession = 4
- Ride = 7
- Survival = 6
- Swim = 5
Weapon = Long Sword (Cursed)
Attack Bonus = 10)
Critical = 19-20
Damage = 1D8+9 (+4)
NOTE!!! Weapon is cursed and cannot be dropped or removed by any means
Level One = Weapon Focus (Long Sword), Dodge, Mobility
Level Two = Toughness, Bravery +1
Level Three = Weapon Training
Level Four = Weapon Specialization
Level Five= Power Attack, Reliable Strike
Experience = 18525pts
Preface: The Cave and the Curse
“Bastian?” The voice echoed through the cave. “BASTIAN! Where are you?”
“Down here, Allys! Come and get me” the laughing voice echoed up through the cavernous opening, eerily trailing off at the end.
The young blond haired girl wavered at the cave opening torn between obeying her brother’s calls and disobeying her parents’ warnings. Hadn’t they just this week gotten after Bastian for playing in the caves? Didn’t he realize the dangers? they had asked. Her long golden hair glinted as the setting sun lit her up from behind like a flickering torch as night came swiftly to claim it’s place in the sky.
“Bastian?” the name echoed and dissolved into the darkness with no reply but the final contorted notes of his familiar laugh and the reverberating “ians” from her cry bouncing themselves into nothingness.
She hesitated only a moment longer. The lack of an answer was answer enough and she plunged headlong into the darkness. At first, her descent was gradual and punctuated by only a few cries now and again of the name, repeated over and over like tugs on an invisible life line. But with no response to her continued cries, Allys’ descent became more steep and rapid.
After what felt like an eternity, there came a small cry in the darkness: “… Allys”
The voice was taught, like a string, and a far cry from the rollicking laughter and lightness from before. Despite the distance she had come, the call still sounded impossibly far away and deep below.
“Bastian! Bastian, where are you?!”
“No, Allys …”
“Bastian, I hear you, I’m—”
The surprising swiftness with which she fell knocked the air from her breast far before she hit the earth below.
She stumbled to standing in the dim light filtering in from some distant air shaft above. This was not a natural tunnel. Gone was the irregular footing and damp wet clay. Here the air was drier and musty. Everything smelled of dust and small motes of ashen debris circled around her as she stepped.
“Bastian?” she whispered into the darkness.
“Allys” came the instant response from a dark patch to her right. “Allys, I’m so sorry. I just slipped. I didn’t mean to. Please don’t tell.”
“Where are you, come over here near the light.”
“I can’t. My foot hurts. I think it’s broken. Please come get me.”
Torn between anger, frustration, and relief, she felt her way through the darkness toward the direction of his voice.
“I’m coming, you big cry baby. Hold your horses.”
“You’re not going to tell Mom, are you?” he whined from a short distance ahead.
“Oh, you bet I’m telling them. That might distract mom from her current obsession with my ‘languishing’ improvement with the violin for a week”
“Oh come on! She’ll kill me if you tell! Please—-”
“Shhhhh!” she commanded. Something had shuffled in the darkness. “Bastian, don’t move.”
“What?” he started to stand, but collapsed. “Stop it, sis, this isn’t funny. You’re scaring…” he stopped short. Another indistinct sound of movement had startled him from his speech. Both siblings strained their senses in the dark, reaching out invisible eyes and ears in the darkness searching for the source of the noise.
Allys moved quickly now to her younger brother’s side. They both stood panting far too loudly in the darkness, clear sounds of life in this here-to-supposed empty underground chamber.
Allys thought back frantically to her decent. There was no returning that way unless she spontaneously sprouted wings.
“Bastian, how did you get down here?” she whispered.
“I tripped and fell. The cave grew narrow and there was a root and my foot got stuck and it twisted and I sort of slipped.”
“Would we be able to climb back up that way?”
“I think so, but—”
The shuffling had gained a new sound like wooden boards slowly tapping together.
“Which way, Bastian?”
He pointed and they rose as one, with his hand around her shoulders for support. The sounds of their shuffling muffled all other noise quietly reverberating off the walls in the ghostly pallor of the waning light.
Then it was there again, and right before them. The noise was close and the creaking and scratching had gained a menacing swiftness to their racing hearts and imaginations.
“Bas, stay here. Don’t move or make a sound. I’m coming right back for you. I just want to make sure the way is clear, they I’m going to cary you out and take you home.” he was reluctant to let go “I won’t even tell Mom, OK?”
Even in the darkness and despite his fear, she could tell he was smiling. She let go and moved ahead slowly in the darkness, using her hands as an extension of her eyes.
Everyone told her that her hands were perfect. “The perfect violin hands. They’re so quick and deft and pliant. You will become a great player if you practice” Now, those hands were lifelines in the darkness. She touched cold smooth stone to her right and felt the clear lip of carved marble. Her hand scooted further forward and traced the feeling of a weathered symbol and inscription. What was it? A cross? A sun? She couldn’t be sure. She nearly gasped aloud as her hand caught an opening. It was a tomb… and it was open. She involuntarily leapt backwards and nearly fell. Something touched her in the darkness.
The scratching and rasping was on top of her now and she let out a scream. Another cry rocketed through the tomb.
“Allys! There’s something here! I can’t move!”
Ripping away from the claws, Allys scrambled forward, running toward her brother, thinking only of escape, but as she neared him, she saw more shapes outlined in the dim light, slowly coming toward them.
“Bastian, look around. Do you see anything near you? A weapon?” Her brother was currently beginning his warrior’s apprenticeship. Though she believed him ill-suited to the profession due in no small part to his clear cowardice and pacifistic stance, she was none-the-less grateful now for any training he had received if it would only help them now.
“I see something, but I can’t reach it. Hurry, Allys! Grab it and hand it to me”
She sprinted now in earnest and saw his outstretched hand through the shaft of light. There was an angel statue, some sort of guardian grave marker, and in in his grasp was a sword. It was impossible to tell whether it would work at all or how long it had been down here, but it was clearly real and not stone, due to the layers of rust detritus layering the object. But beggars are choosers only at their own mortal peril in situations of true need, so she grabbed for the hilt. The stone hands felt almost life-like in their resistance to her pull. The sword would not budge and she pulled frantically at the hilt.
“Please. Help me!” She grunted and the sword popped loose from the stone as a ghostly wail seemed to spill forth from the mouth of the statue, felt more than heard.
The force was magnetic. It was gravity. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. The sword had fastened itself to her. She couldn’t explain it.
“Hurry, Allys! Hand me the sword.” She ran to her brother, the sword not so much clasped in her palm as glued there. She reached his side as the shapes drew closer. He stood up, wincing in pain.
“Hand me the sword”
“I … can’t”
“Allys, hand me the sword, we don’t have time for this”
“I CAN’T! It’s stuck. I don’t know what to do. I can’t—” but the skeletal figures were upon them now.
“Hit them, Allys!”
“I can’t, please I…”
“Hand me the sword or hit them”
“I don’t know—” but the hands were reaching for them.
The weapon sliced heavily through the air, knocking aside the spectral hands. The force nearly knocked Allys to the ground as the heavy tip rebounded off the catacomb floor. Allys shook with the effort of swinging the blade, but could barely lift the sword for the second swing. The tip clanged heavily off the ground and sent shockwaves up her arms and she cried out in pain.
Escape. They had to escape. But the sword was so heavy and she couldn’t put it down. What was happening?
Bastian was standing now mumbling something she couldn’t hear. What could she do? They seemed like they were everywhere. Bas was hurt and she… she was nothing. She was just a girl who played the violin. She was just a girl. She was just…
“…please, help us. Someone! Shelyn, Abadar help me!…” He was praying, but there was no answer. The skeletons continued to move toward them, groping with hands outstretched.
Bastian’s mumbling had gotten louder and turned to shouting: “Pharasma, please. Torag…”
He was screaming something at the skeletons and they had stopped.
She looked down at the sword frozen in her grasp, for just a moment, she thought she saw a glint of light. A glow beneath the rust. The sword felt lighter in her grasp. Was it adrinalin? She stepped forward and lifted the sword out with two hands.
As he dipped, she spun in place, eyes closed, inelegantly, nearly falling, but swinging fully in circle, arms and sword outstretched.
The next thing she knew, Bastian had her hand and they were sprinting away. The skeletons were laying, fallen in the beam of light. But even as they ran, the shuffling returned. They were standing and still coming.
“Don’t look back, Allys, run!”
And they did.
Chapter One: Doctor’s Call
“Are you sure this professor can help us?”