A beguiling young warlock enchanted by freedom and disillusioned by betrayal
STR 8 -1
DEX 16 +3
CON 12 +1
INT 18 +4
WIS 8 -1
CHA 20 +5
HP 47 Speed 30ft/x4 DR 2/Cold Iron AC 23 = 4 armor + 4 sheild + 3 DEX + 1 nat + 1 defl Touch 14 Flatfooted 20 INITIATIVE +3 FORT +5 Reflex +7 Will +8
extra +5 to one save from Dark One’s Own Luck
Base Attack: +6/+1
Action points: 12
No weapons :)
Eldritch Blast +9 4d6 or 6d6 with Hellfire
Eldritch Glaive +9/+4 4d6 or 6d6 with Hellfire
Mortalbane 5/day Maximize 3/day Admixture 3/day
Dark One’s Own Luck
The Dead Walk
Curse of Despair
Daeva “Thorn” Feytouched Warlock Male Chaotic Neutral Black hair, Green eyes, 6’1” 160lbs.
Undecided Diety (is currently researching Lord Ithmoor’s Diephagy)
Remembering nothing before his days at the Academy, Daeva happly devoured as much knowledge as he could about what lay beyond the material plane. Forsaking his given name for the name “Thorn” he became popular in the arcane branch of the academy by careful manipulation… just for fun. He didn’t care to consort much with those outside of the arcane wing. Only Irthir, a dragonborn teifling duskblade, earned his complete trust due to their shared feindish heritage, unique abilities, and similiar outlook on the world. Life was good for the self-styled Thorn, until tragedy struck.
The night the academy was betrayed, there was chaos. Only a few quick-thinking students made it out, with help from the sagely weapons-professor Grok. Although the company of students had to leave Grok to his fate, the sacrifice stuck with Thorn. He had never spent much time in Grok’s training classes, but Thorn admired Grok’s ability to overcome others prejudices.
During the student’s escape, it was revealed by an Earth Weird that one of the academy survivors was chosen to complete a sacred task… this intrigued Thorn. He looked over the other survivors: Irthir, his one true friend, Felis, a catfolk rogue who’s willingness to fight and capacity for humor had grown on him, Goram, a goliath monk who’s strange ways and “exalted” veiws made little sense, Glyph, a human paladin who seemed like something more (if only Thorn had had time to grab his manual of the planes!), and Corellon, another human paladin who was only loosely tied by his code…
“Yeah, these chumps? I’m the chosen one”
Then the group was given a choice of boons: a weapon or knowledge. Silently, he watched his new companions clutch at new magic arms and armors, except for the monk, who selfless thought of the health of a halfling child they had rescued. Thorn had sacrificed to save that child… well, he’d sacrificed a scroll and a celestial monkey anyway.
When the being turned her stony attention to the young warlock, his thoughts rested on the prophecy and the possibility of death. “How will I die?”
“Concerned you are with mortal thread, listen well to what is said. One that you have called your friend, will be the bringer of your end.”
He couldn’t help but look at Irthir, and his heart grew cold.