The Lord of Blades
Game Masters
Ero Sennin
Please allow me to introduce myself: I'm a man of wealth and taste
Posts: 1,314
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Post by The Lord of Blades on Jun 3, 2007 21:57:57 GMT -5
Player Name: James Character Name: Livio Fayt Aliases: The Double Fang Race: Human Classes: Rogue 8 / Duelist 3 Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Occupation: Former Blade of Mask HP: 75/75 AC: 22 BAB: +9/+4 Initiative: +10 Speed: 40 ft. Appearance: A 6'1" blonde man with a lean muscular build and short cut hair that seems perpetually ruffled, wearing very fine leather gloves and a matching pair of boots. A long gray trenchcoat closed tightly around his form reveals he wears no armor but his clothing, his own skin, and his wits. On the back of the trenchcoat (which is long enough in length to hover just above his ankles) is the less-than-well-known religious symbol of the Blades of Mask. With a sardonic grin that is more jesting than malicious, he regards the people around him. Always carrying himself in a manner that shows he's ready for everything and anything with a light step to his feet. A double sword is strapped across his back, the blades appearing as though a black-clouded metal with a black obsidian grip. The weapon seems almost insubstantial and the wire holding it in place so thin as to be invisible. A silver ring rests on his right hand with a matching jet ring on his other hand bearing the same symbol as his cloak he is never seen without the black ring. His blue eyes take in the surroundings constantly, as though always on the lookout for something in particular and his voice, while gruff and imposing, is of a friendly and well-meant tone. He carries himself apart from most, as though he has suffered or been marked by something greater than most, and always moves as though filled with a greater purpose. While in town he also wears a wide brim hat that keeps the sun out of his face, although he seems to wear it more to hide his face, tilting his head to a downwards angle to avoid notice or recognition. In the field he packs the hat away, stating that while it doesn't impede him, it'd be a terrible waste if it were damaged. History: In second post, far too long to clutter this one with. Other Notes: The symbol I'm using for the Blades of Mask. Known Languages: Common, Dwarven, Elven, Undercommon, Draconic STR: 14 DEX: 26 CON: 13 INT: 18 WIS: 10 CHA: 15 Fort: +4 Reflex: +18 Will: +3 Feats: Two Weapon Fighting, Exotic Weapon Proficiency (Double Sword), Luck of Heroes (regional), Dodge, Mobility, Weapon Finesse, Least Legacy (Double Fang). Skills: HereAbilities: Sneak Attack +4d6, Trapfinding, Trap Sense +2, Evasion, Uncanny Dodge, Improved Uncanny Dodge, Canny Defense, Improved Reaction +2, Enhanced Mobility. Spells: N/A EquipmentBody: Gray 'Blades of Mask' Trenchcoat Head: Wide-brim black hat (only in town). Face: none Neck: none Arms: none Hands: Gloves of Dexterity +6 Feet: Boots of Striding & Springing Back: none Torso: none Waist: none Rings: Ring of Sustenance Inventory: Bell x1, Chain 30 ft., Crowbar x1, Small Steel Mirror x1, Oil flask x2, Paper (sheet) x10, Belt Pouch x3, Trail Rations (2 weeks), Silk Rope 100 ft., Scroll Case x1, Sealing Wax x3, Blades of Mask Signet Ring x1, Soap 1 lb., ink vial x5, ink pen x1, Chalk (piece) x3, Everburning Torch x1, Sunrod x3, Masterwork Thieves' Tools, Grappling Hook x1, Piton x2, Alchemists Fire x2 Money: 13,000 GP
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The Lord of Blades
Game Masters
Ero Sennin
Please allow me to introduce myself: I'm a man of wealth and taste
Posts: 1,314
|
Post by The Lord of Blades on Jun 4, 2007 11:09:16 GMT -5
Livio “The Double Fang” Fayt was born an orphan, abandoned as an infant and left to die by parents who had never wanted him. Taken into a small orphanage that did its best to support an abundance of abandoned children, Livio quickly became aware that this was not the life he wanted to live. Despite the orphanage’s shelter and provisions, Livio craved more. He began to steal as soon as he was old enough to know how to and what to steal. He exercised often, knowing it was no good stealing if people could catch you. In a few years he’d gotten quite good at his new trade (after a few scuffles that the orphanage had to apologize repeatedly for). Livio didn’t care though, why should he? He had no obligations towards an orphanage that’s only purpose had been to inflict him with a meaningless life of poverty and poor living as opposed to sparing him of it by letting him perish as an unaware infant.
In his early adolescence a group of robed individuals came to the orphanage and without a word fired a dart into Livio’s young body. Livio collapsed and was taken away; no one in the orphanage stood up for the troublemaker and simply prayed that they not be taken as well. Fortunately, the group of shady figures simply took Livio and left. Leaving the orphanage to wonder what would ever become of their wayward child.
When he awoke he found himself tied and bound to a chair, barely able to move in a room with no light. Livio, panic-stricken, called out for help. Without hearing any replies he knew he had to escape by any means possible. Quickly loosing and slipping his bonds, Livio felt around in the dark seeking a means of exit. In the dark he heard a voice chuckle and another dart found its way into his body. Awaking a second time in lit room with ten lockers, he heard a gruff voice call out: “Find an antidote or the poison we injected into you will kill you… painfully.” Livio started, looking for the source of the voice but found none. Deciding not to call the man’s bluff, Livio quickly tried the handles on each locker and found each one locked. Starting to notice a trend, Livio quickly picked lock after lock, opening each locker and finding them empty again and again. Livio searched each locker thoroughly after finding that all ten were completely empty of a supposed antidote. In the last one he searched he found a hidden compartment and a bottle inside it. He sniffed at it tentatively and then cast it aside. He felt like he knew whoever was tormenting him wouldn’t make it so easy. Looking around the room again he began to search the floor, the walls, and finally climbed atop the lockers difficultly. Once on top of one, he felt the ceiling and found a loose stone. He carefully and gently lowered it, finding a bottle perched precariously atop it such that if the stone fell freely, the bottle would fall with it and smash to pieces on the floor. After removing the bottle, he firmly secured the stone back into the ceiling. With another sniff he decided this had to be the antidote, that and he could feel himself weakening. If he didn’t acquire the antidote soon Livio knew he’d be dead. Without hesitating he drank the entire contents of the potion and felt a surge of relief wash over him. He knew he’d live to see another day… provided he survived this one.
A slow clap was heard and a short man stepped out of the shadows of the flickering torchlight: “Bravo Livio, bravo.” He took a step forward; Livio bravely stood his ground and resolved to fight for his life, knowing there was nowhere to run. The man placed one hand on Livio’s shoulder and made a grin that was all too evil yet still knowing. “I had this trial as well; glad to see you survived and the vision that old cleric had is not false. Welcome, Livio Fayt, to the temple of Mask.”
Confused, relieved, and altogether disoriented, Livio had no choice but to accept his new home for better or for worse. He was quickly put through a rigorous ordeal of training, educating, and religious indoctrinating. At the young age of twelve and now living in a place much more comfortable than the orphanage, Livio quickly embraced this new life. Becoming a devout follower of Mask, a patron deity whose beliefs were similar to his own, Livio was grateful of being spared the gutter life. With his newfound faith as a pillar of internal strength, Livio met each challenge and rigorous trial the faithful of Mask put before him.
After several years of ordeals, Livio was informed that it had all simply been ‘Practice’. Worried at the implications of that ominous title for what he’d thought had been a great challenge already, he was placed before the high priests. They blessed him and consecrated him as the newest and youngest “Blade of Mask”. Livio had studied the teachings of his lord and God Mask and was still unsure of what this new title meant. However, shortly after this ceremony (which he noticed had been conducted in utmost secrecy), Livio was taken away and into a much deeper and more hidden part of the temple. Thoughts raced through his head, no one else in the temple knew this place existed, he was just learning of it now. He was shown to new quarters where a man sat waiting.
“So you’re Livio eh? I’m Dawlyof. You’ll call me ‘Master’, ‘Sir’, or ‘Mentor’ or you will not speak to me, understood?” Livio nodded as Dawlyof continued to speak and explain that the followers of Mask had created an elite organization of thieves, the Blades of Mask. Each Blade was trained rigorously beyond the norms of a common thief and subjected to all manner of experimentation, indoctrination, and mental hardening. “The desired result is that the potential Blade is ‘sharpened’ well beyond the ken of the everyday person.” Livio was beginning to understand the true purpose of the daily hardships he’d faced at the behest of Mask’s temple. He had been getting prepared for an even greater purpose, the mere thought of which further bolstered Livio’s faith in Mask.
A decade passed with Livio carrying out varied missions, assignments, and jobs for his Mentor, learning everything he could in the process. During this time Livio grew agile, strong, cunning, and was regarded by his peers among the Blades as quite a prodigy having been an orphan upon arrival. Dawlyof was quick to prevent any of it from bolstering the boy’s ego, stating: “Those with no home, with nothing to lose, and with no previous learning are the perfect candidates. By the Nine Hells we don’t even care if you get caught, not like anyone is going to come seeking vengeance for their beloved missing orphan. It is with the knowledge that you have only yourself and need only yourself, that homeless, parentless, and willful children become excellent servants of our God Mask.” Livio kept all of the cynical mans teachings with him, determined not to disappoint his mentor and benefactor who had given him a greater purpose.
The time came after Livio had grown into an accomplished thief and skilled fighter. He was to undergo the master initiation trial of the Blades of Mask. If he succeeded he’d be on the same level as his mentor Dawlyof and no longer required to do anything except what was asked of him by the high clergy and Mask himself. His goal was simple; acquire a shard of the divine sword, Godsbane. Livio recalled Dawlyof’s advice and researched heavily into the lore surrounding the shards and the sword itself. He had been taught that the more he knew the more prepared he’d be for any situation. He learned of the nature of the Shard Weapons, the way the order held onto several in their deepest vaults, and how very few remained easily obtainable in the world.
Livio devised a plan that was risky, daring, and most likely forbidden. However, when he read into the subject and asked subtle questions of the clergy, the answer remained the same. The Blades of Mask had overlooked the possibility of someone acquiring a Shard Weapon from within and using it to qualify! Livio spent a day preparing, gathering tools, his courage, and praying to Mask (praising that Mask had created an organization that emulated him to such a degree that their own plots and plans were so confusing they caught themselves in them).
When night fell on their organization, many of their number went out to pursue agendas of their own (many initiates departing at night to try and avoid being tracked, Livio was not the only one seeking a Shard Weapon or attempting to perform a task to earn one). Livio crept through the hallways, deeper and deeper into the very heart of the temples and vaults. He felt incredibly foolish for even daring such an audacious theft, but knew he could not turn back now. Upon arriving at the most secure treasure vault of the Blades of Mask, he slipped into the door (deftly unlocking it) and saw a neatly organized room of various assorted treasures. Livio crept into the room and pocketed several objects of wealth (unbeknownst to him he had taken a bag of holding that contained nearly 5,000 GP a bit more than what he’d spent on this venture’s preparations) as he made his way towards the back, his eyes drawn by a double sword that glittered darkly… even in the complete blackness of the room.
As he reached out to touch the weapon he suddenly saw several perfect replicas of Mask all tilting their heads, looking at him from odd angles, chattering amongst them and then all nodding in unison. As one they faced him and bowed, quickly vanishing into the ever-present shadowy gloom. Confused but undaunted, Livio took up the double sword and tested it in his hands, the weapon was masterfully crafted, and it seemed to ooze magical power from both blades. Livio cursed silently that he was unaware of how to draw out such power from the weapon. He heard the vault door close behind him, spinning rapidly he saw a man standing in it, both hands folded behind his back as a rapier floated in front of him. “Livio… you arrogant, insolent, wretched whelp. Thought you’d be clever eh? Steal a Shard Weapon from us to save yourself time? It’s clever, I’ll give you that. So clever that Mask himself would be proud of you, but that doesn’t change the fact that you have disrespected our beloved organization. I’m afraid I will just have to go and recruit a new orphan to fill your gap. Goodbye Livio.” With that the man began a slow and steady advance and Livio recognized Dawlyof as the man who’d discovered him.
“You taught me well Dawlyof (purposely addressing him as an equal), and the goal of this trial is to return the Shard Weapon I find to you is it not? Very well, I return it to you as required of me, a shame I wasted so much money on supplies… only to have to throw it all away here!!!” Livio swung the sword above his head, attempting to hurl it as if it were a javelin at his mentor knowing that the elder man was fully intent on slaughtering Livio and leaving his body down here to (hopefully) become some sort of vengeful undead to haunt the area and prevent lesser thieves from entering. As Livio swung the sword upwards behind him he felt an incredible surge of power flood from the weapon as the rear blade on the double sword vanished into the shadows. Livio stared shocked at it, confused as to how losing a blade could make the weapon more powerful…
…Then he heard a sharp intake of breath and turned to face Dawlyof again. The main coughed up a mouthful of blood and staggered forward to his knees. Livio then saw the other blade… it had gone through the shadows and stabbed the older man in the back. Dawlyof growled heavily and Livio knew that he would not be felled so easily. Hefting the sword with the intent to use it normally as opposed to callously attempting to throw it, he sauntered over to the face-down figure of his former mentor.
“Damn you whelp! Damn you and your stolen hunk of metal! I… I can’t move my legs…” Dawlyof spat bitterly. Most people would be terrified or disturbed by accidentally paralyzing a man they had once called mentor… not a Blade of Mask though, they were hardened to this sort of thing. “Listen to me Dawlyof the Dancing Blade; I am your equal now. You will address me as Livio and this…?” Livio hefted and balanced the sword and felt a memory stir about a nameless thief… “…This is my Double Fang.” With those words Livio stepped over the man and left, Dawlyof was not the kind of man to accept help even if it meant his death, nor did Livio wish to wait around for some magical healing to allow Dawlyof to stand.
After reaching the main audience hall of the temple, Livio went to his knees and held aloft the blade, praying his gratitude to Mask. He heard a man call out: “Livio… Livio has the Double Fang? Indeed… he’s even unleashed it partially. Dawlyof must’ve failed to prevent it…” Livio turned and saw several high priests emerge from the shadows (as it was their domain utterly through divine magic). “Well done Livio, however that weapon is not for you, we will reward you with a different Shard Weapon for your ingenuity and determination.” Livio’s face contorted into one of fury and confusion. The priest continued: “Don’t think of defying us, that weapon is dangerous, if your faith in Mask wavers, you will be imprisoned. However, we have come to the decision that from this day forth you are a full master within the Blades of Mask!” The priest extended his hands to bless Livio… and to take the Double Fang. Livio sneered and made as if to drop the sword into the waiting hands of the priest but caught it with his other hand and rested it on his shoulder. “No,” Livio calmly stated, “the way I see it… this is mine. Ownership is nine tenths of what is right… and ownership is defined as possession.” Livio grinned, feeling inside that Mask was on his side.
“How dare you!?” The priest exclaimed and pointed a finger at Livio, following his accusation with intoning powerful divine words. Livio felt the air beginning to ripple with the power of the spell but suddenly Dawlyof blinked in next to Livio grabbed him and blinked away. Livio heard an explosive crack of energy from far away, knowing the spell had barely missed him. When the teleport had finished, Livio stood next to Dawlyof in his private quarters. “Here. Take these.” Dawlyof handed Livio a gray trench coat and a signet ring, both bearing the mark of the Blades of Mask. “You’re a member no longer, yet always will you bear the title and rankings of a master. You bested me and that’s not something just anyone can do, moreover, I agree with you about the sword. Clearly that weapon has marked you as its wielder. Now go, Livio the Double Fang, go and make your mark on the world. Mask bless your passage to be invisible and your deeds always in the shadows.” With that Dawlyof pointed a wand at Livio and teleported him to some distant unknown land before Livio could even ask why or thank him.
Livio the Double Fang, Ex-Master of the Blades of Mask, squared his shoulders looked up at the night sky, donned his new trench coat, slipped the signet ring on his finger, and walked off to do as he decided was best. For Mask and for himself.
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Post by Yamazaki on Jun 4, 2007 16:09:13 GMT -5
Character approved.
You've already used the extra gold awarded, so we don't need to worry 'bout that, I assume.
-Max, GM
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