Level 6... 3rd level in Archivist. Level 2 spells, and Create Wondrous Item. Hee hee hee.
For my spells, I picked Divine Insight (for massive skill check bonuses, which might make my Dark Knowledge feature actually worth using, holy crap), and Cure Moderate Wounds (so I can get some decent healing done, and pick a wider variety of 1st level spells).
And as soon as I get a day of free time, I can scribe my scroll of Cat's Grace into my prayer book, and then I only need 2,000 gp to make myself some Gloves of Dexterity. After that, I will be taking requests for magic item creation, probably at 3/4 market price. (cheaper than any vendor would give you, but I still make a profit)
As the rest of the group hurriedly stuffs the contents of the armory into their packs, Veshnoal sits down and quickly writes in his journal...
*there is a sketch of a dwarf-size piece of armor. It gleams in the faint light, and is obviously very strong, very valuable, and very very heavy*
We began our raid on the thieves' hideout today, after following a trail of knives on the ground. It's an interesting system... but a little too obvious. I'd have used a different system to mark the trail... but that's all immaterial.
We snuck into the lair through a trapdoor. There was a room almost immediately inside; one of the men within heard me sneaking about, and came to investigate. My friends hid around the corner, while I used the shadow arts to turn myself invisible. As soon as he came within reach, I struck him down (Adler helped), and he died with only a barely audible gasp. It was an efficient kill. Perhaps not perfect, but I thought it was well done, and I take some pride in it.
His friends came to look for him before we could hide the body, though, and so we had a fight on our hands. One of the bandits had mind-powers similar to some of my friends... he made himself bigger than a horse at will, and I think he was resistant to their powers. Still, we brought him down. Adler hatched a plan during the fight to choke him to death with rope, but the large brute simply tore it. Such a waste. At least we have lots more.
After a bit more poking around, we found two rogues sparring in the barracks; we ambushed them as they left the room, killing one and charming the other into thinking he was our friend. The blacksmith heard us from within his forge (apparently these thieves keep their smithy immediately next to their barracks... it makes sense to keep the warriors in contact with the one who makes and repairs their equipment, I suppose, but isn't the heat uncomfortable?), and joined the fight. He was a fierce warrior. Between the rogues (who were able to anticipate my strikes better than most, and avoid my arterial strikes) and the blacksmith, we are a little worse for wear. I'm sporting a bruise on my left shoulder, actually. It shouldn't slow me down, but it does hurt.
What worries me most, though, is that the blacksmith knew of the Sublime Way. I didn't recognize his individual maneuvers, but he clearly knew of the Diamond Mind and Iron Heart. Where did he learn of it? A blacksmith wouldn't have enough free time to teach himself the Sublime Way through independent research, and he couldn't have possibly learned it at Oathtower without me knowing... so, who taught him? Did his master not see the life path he was walking? How could a practitioner of the Sublime Way end up as a bandit? I should look for a temple where they teach the Sublime Way when we reach the town of Empire, because if someone is teaching these arts (not to mention the psionic arts) to bandits, either for larceny or out of negligence, they need to be stopped. I can probably secure Lord Urist's, and by extension the rest of my group's, support in this. Making these advanced combat techniques unavailable to our enemies will make our lives much easier in the future. But that's just an argument to give to others to secure their help... the real reason is because it's the right thing to do. Will the others go along with it even if I don't tell them it's for the benefit of the mission? I don't know.
I had an epiphany during the fight. I cast a spell of gradual healing on Lance... and I thought, where is this power coming from? The clerics say their gods grant it to them, and yet they can write it on paper, give it to a blasphemer, and let him use it. There are also clerics who swear to no god, and claim their magic comes from their devotion to an ideal, and yet despite their differing ideals, they can all use similar magic. Druids, similarly, claim their power comes from nature... and yet, it functions just as well within the confines of any city. And then there is me; I do not request magic from a diety, or conjure it forth from my devotion to an ideal, and I do not worship nature nor observe the druidic restriction against wearing metal, but I can still use the same arts. I think that my "divine" magic comes from within me. And with this realization, my power has grown. I take another look at the scroll I purchased from a druid, and it seems to make more sense when I think about it that way. I'll need to take another crack at transcribing it into my prayerbook (which may need a new name soon) later.
In the shorter term, however, we are not done in the thieves' hideout yet; we are currently in the armoury, which contains among all of the workaday gear, a suit of adamantine dwarven platemail of some odd construction (I drew a sketch above, but I don't think I did it justice). I've heard that Dwarves are particularly suited to moving around in armor, but this particular piece looks monstrously heavy. I don't think I could even lift it, let alone wear it! Even if it were in my size and shape, which it clearly is not.
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Topic: D&D 3.5: Alternative Energy: Dead but Dreaming (Read 41620 times)