The surf crashed and broke upon the cliff, roaring like an angry god, but the lone figure perched atop could only hear the rain and wind from the autumn gale. The rain stung his face, and it was all he could do to keep his footing on his lofty perch, but the figure, as if cast in stone, peered into the darkness. The sea boiled and the heavens seemed at war with themselves, the air itself was filled with thermal eddies and air streams that looked like dancing swirls of light to the stranger’s elven eyes. The only other illumination came from the near constant discharges of lightning. During these flashes, the stranger, could barely discern a citadel in the distance along the shore, it jutted up from a peninsula like the tooth of a dragon, dark and coarse at base, rising up like an ivory spire towards its apex. It was there that the stranger had to venture, there his quest would be at an end. He smiled to himself grimly, and thought that the weather suited well his temperament this night, he did not even mind the cold.
He shook his head to break his reverie and stretched his leathery red wings about himself. He retrieved a small sealed case from his belt and opened it. Inside were several compartments, each one held a scroll. He removed one scroll and, taking care to reseal the case, reattached it to his belt. As he unfurled the scroll, he saw several arcane symbols, each one constantly transmogrifying itself into another symbol. With a furrowed brow, he willed the symbols into focus and recited the enchantment on the scroll. He hoped that gold he had spent on this powerful spell had been worth it. As he finished the recitation, the air around him grew still. Spreading his wings, he hurled himself into the tempest.
The spell did its work, guiding him through chaotic sky, bringing him ever nearer to the looming citadel. He had studied the citadel for weeks, bribing the guards to learn its layout and in the end deciding on this mode of assault. The priest of Talos that had sold him the scroll, had also informed him of the storm. He had been only too happy to help the stranger on his mission of vengeance. As he reached the citadel, the stranger lighted on a window ledge, one floor below his quarry’s chamber. He thrust his dagger between the panes, flipping open the latch. Without noise, he entered the citadel. He grinned as he did, the humans called him Silent Dragon, that name seemed so appropriate.
He was in a small store room, he let his eyes grow accustomed to the darkness before he examined it more closely. It was sparsely furnished, a few barrels, which his sense of smell told him contained fruit, and some sacks of potatoes piled in one corner. Dragon retrieved another scroll and, as he read the words, watched his shadow fade from sight. The wind from the open window was still gusting into room, he patiently gauged the cadence of the gusts and as they reached their apex he thrust open the door. He entered the hallway and looked about, as he had expected the sole occupant of this floor was his quarry’s manservant, an iron golem. Dragon cautiously eyed the cumbrous monstrosity, glistening from fresh coat of oil, as it clambered down the hallway with all the subtlety one would expect from a ton of walking metal. It passed right by Dragon, and entered the store room. As it turned, Dragon peered into the two crimson radiating orbs it had for eyes, and hoped his enchantment would hold up. It seemed to peer into his very soul, he almost pulled out his scroll of teleportation. Though he could not teleport into the citadel, he could teleport out. After a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, the golem’s gaze passed. Having satisfied itself that the room was empty, it walked over to the window to reseal it. Dragon seized this opportunity, he charged the Golem and rammed it with all the might his half dragon body could muster. He struck it right between its shoulders, with its knees braced against the window sill, the golem had no chance to avoid crashing through the window. Dragon watched it fall, even made of iron, the golem smashed to pieces on the rocks below.
Dragon halted to use another scroll of invisibility and then proceeded to the staircase that would bring him nearer to his quarry. As he neared the staircase, he heard a faint melody. As he drew closer, it grew stronger, he could make out exquisite trills that decorated a simple melancholy melody which begged silence and respect. What enthralled Dragon was the voice, a sweet haunting somewhat familiar voice.
Pangs of grief wracked his soul as he recognized the voice of his Beloved. He had always been an outcast among his people because of his draconic heritage, but his family was respected for the power they wielded. Still wherever he went, he heard the whispers, and people always gave him a wide berth. She did not care however, she loved his adventurous spirit and he loved her gentle soul. She completed him and gave him purpose. Before he had been content to be scout, but to be with her he studied art, music and magic. Still, his skills paled before hers, she was considered among the best songstresses of their city. Somehow their love bloomed, and in time they left their city to find acceptance. Traveling through human lands, they did as well for themselves as two troubadours could and they soon found themselves in Waterdeep. It was here they met the mage that would ruin their lives. He was tall and muscular with hair the colour of raven’s wings. Rich and powerful, he was the type of man who was used to getting his way. He was enraptured with Dragon’s love, and she spurned his advances. But alas, the advances of a mage are best dealt with tactfully for, enraged, he used his dark arts to steal her voice. Dragon did his best to console her, but the strain was too much for her to bear. In the end, wasted from grief, she took her own life. From that day, Dragon swore revenge, then he could do nothing but he would not be powerless for long. He learned the arts necessary to release the power of his blood, distorting his elven body into the monstrosity he now was, and he joined several thieves guilds learning how to slay spellcasters. As he thought of the suffering she endured, a palpable wave of rage passed through his body, leaving him cold with nothing but grim resolve.
He reached the top of the stairs, the beautiful music now twisted in his mind to a jeering taunt, and saw the final obstacle between him and his goal. At the end of the hallway, two humans stood guard. They were clad in shimmering full plate, with broad pot helms, each carried a longsword and shield. Part of Dragon just wanted to send a blast of fire down the hall and rush to meet the mage, but he knew that patience and planning was the key to killing a spellcaster. He crept closer to examine the guards more carefully. They wore fine armour, but he could still find breaches. The guard on the left was not wearing a mail coif under his plate, instead he wore leather that left his joints exposed. The guard on the right wore a coif but it fit poorly about his body. Dragon retreated into a corner of the hallway. The guards, enthralled by the song of his beloved, did not hear him cast his spell. They did however notice its effects, as the music halted. As they looked about Dragon drew his rapier and rushing in he drove the fine point of the five-foot blade under the pauldron of the guard on the left, piercing his lung and heart. The remaining guard shouted and beat his sword against his shield, but there was only silence.
Realizing his situation, the guard rushed Dragon. Dragon knew his blade would shatter if he tried to parry the heavy sword; instead he had to use the speed of his weapon. Dragon made several swift strikes; he had to score a hit before the guard recovered. The guard was skilled, however, and decided to use length of the rapier against Dragon. He rushed in, turning Dragon’s rapier with his shield, he then made a low sweep with his sword to cut out Dragon’s legs. Dragon jumped up and kicked off the guard’s shield using his wings to pull himself out of the range of the guard’s sword and keep his balance. As the guard recovered, Dragon willed his image to appear one foot to the right of him, a trick he had learned from an old rogue. As the guard struck the phantom image, Dragon’s rapier darted under the guard’s jupon scoring a sensitive hit. The guard dropped to one knee, as he did Dragon guided the point of his rapier in for the death blow.
Dragon steeled himself, the smell of blood was rising quickly in the hallway, and he knew it would alert the mage. He kicked open the door to mage's sanctum. Dragon had to admit him nemesis had good taste; the room was appointed with dark red silk tapestries and exotic white animal skins. Still the room did not look gaudy, it was barren except for a bed a pair of red leather bound chairs an armoire and dressing case, all of which had been carefully built out of the finest mahogany and Inlayed with ivory and gold. On the dressing case Dragon saw the source of his Beloved's voice a crystal orb perched atop a golden pedestal. Sitting on the bed was the source of Dragon's pain, The powerfully built mage's jet hair was now streaked with grey and he wore a fine brocade robe embroidered with arcane symbols. It had been 30 years since their last encounter, and, to Dragon, they had been painfully kind to his tormentor. With a look of surprise the mage leapt to his feet and with the merest of gestures he fired a bolt of energy towards Dragon. Dragon dropped into roll, ducking under the bolt, and as he rose he buried his blade in the mage's stomach. He withdrew it, watching the mage sink to the ground, from the slow bleeding wound. As the mage sunk, Dragon cast a spell of his own, once again filling the area with blissful silence. The mage crawled towards his staff, but Dragon struck his blade through the Mage's wrist transfixing him to ground. Leaving the mage, Dragon walked over to the dressing case and shattered the orb, freeing his Beloved’s voice. He noticed a tray with a fine decanter filled with elven brandy on the dressing case, he poured himself a glass and sat down to watch the mage die.
Here's a character that I typed about last night. He has some good abilities. Most Notably: -Devastating Critical with a potential 12-20 threat range -Evasion -Epic Dodge -Self Concealment V -43 UMD -13D6 Sneak Attack Now this combo looks decent, he even has okay saves (when you throw in the +8 from spellcraft). But he only has: -Only 260 Hitpoints -3 attacks per turn (4 with haste) -a very poor AB (35/30/25) -Low damage. He wont be able to fight enemies with immunity to critical hits, he'll have to rely on UMD. I think this is the best possible character that has devastating critical and self concealment V. But I also think that any character that goes for those feats, is too spread out to be viable. Well, you can let me know what you think?
Silent Dragon
Race: Elf
Alignment: TN
Base Attributes STR 15 DEX 20 CON 8 WIS 8 INT 10 CHA 10
Feats Level 24: Overwhelming Critical (Rapier), Defensive Roll Level 27: Great Dexterity II, Epic Dodge Level 30: Great Dexterity III, Self Concealment I
should be, Level 24: Great Dexterity II, Defensive Roll Level 27: Great Dexterity III, Epic Dodge Level 30: Overwhelming Critical (Rapier), Self Concealment I
I'd like to thanks Cinnabar Din, for catching this bug, and Xitooner for suggesting the fix. _________________ Two wrongs don't make a right but three lefts do.
No Problem......Edited
Quote: No Problem......Edited
Its so cool having a moderator that will do that. _________________ Normal kids play rock-paper-scissors. Shifter kids play IronGolem-RustMonster-MindFlayer. . .
Thank,s ..but no problem as long as its only small typo,s that is
Thanks. _________________ Two wrongs don't make a right but three lefts do.
No Prob... You,ve got a lot of build,s to update there.. Btw..I love your stories..keep themm coming.. even if no build included
Edited By griphook on 02/15/05 03:04
I gotta agree, I like reading Mith's stories myself _________________ If everyone is thinking alike, then someone is failing to think.
This is a bit of a daft question; but do I assume right that the str boosting is purely for Dev Crit? If so; since most worlds disable it, if you're playing on one of those worlds should it maybe be switched to Dex (and start with lower str [10], ending on 16 str and dex 42)? Might have the sums slightly wrong, but that's an extra +5 bab; and +5 ac too I think?
Quote: Posted 02/15/05 12:57:49 (GMT) -- Khandahr
This is a bit of a daft question; but do I assume right that the str boosting is purely for Dev Crit? If so; since most worlds disable it, if you're playing on one of those worlds should it maybe be switched to Dex (and start with lower str [10], ending on 16 str and dex 42)? Might have the sums slightly wrong, but that's an extra +5 bab; and +5 ac too I think?
Really, I wouldn't play this character on a world where Dev. Crit. is banned. I wouldn't play this character period. This build was created in response to challenge as to whether it was possible to create a build that had devastating critical, epic dodge and self concealment 5. It's doable, it just doesn't work very well. You would probably find my Ferromancer build or some of Syrath's builds better suited for a non devastating critical environment.
BTW, 8 of this builds STR enhancements come from the RDD bonuses. So you could only shift three attribute bonuses to dex. _________________ Two wrongs don't make a right but three lefts do.
Thanks.
