BAND OF IRONS
Kvothe, son of Arliden
A enigmatic young Halfling, lightly armored Rogue
Class: Rogue Level 1 Wizard Level 4
Race: Halfling Lightfoot
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Languages: Common, Halfling, Thieves cant
Height: 3’ 8"
Weight: 60 lbs
Masterwork Composite Short Bow,
Armor: Studded Leather under a Cloak of Elvenkind with hood
Equipment: Burglar’s Pack, Thieves’ Tools, Forgery Kit, Magnifying Glass, Sypglass, Spell Book, Small Pouch with assorted items, Bedroll, Lute
Ring Protection from Cold endure cold (endure elements cold only) + 1 cold based attack
Sympathy Lamp very tiny “toy” lantern glows red gives off small amount of light enough to dimly light a room or read a book by. Must set out and activate.
Peaceful Sleep-anyone will feel rested
+1 to HP recovery rolls
+1 to saves vs any nightime/asleep attack (nightmares)
WIS save (if DM allows) vs nightime sleep/attacks DC 10 + level of attacker .
Rivng of Darkvision (minor) 40’
Potion of Healing 2d4 +2
Traits: I move like the wind in the night. The shadows envy my powers to disappear. The water resents my every motion.
Ideals: I strive every day to live a life that would make my father proud.
Bonds: One day I will avenge my family and kill their murderers.
Flaws: I am quiet but arrogant
Skills: Sleight of Hand, Perception, Investigation, Acrobatics
Proficiencies: Stealth, Thieves’ Tools
1st Level: Expertise, Sneak Attack, Thieves’ Cant
Spells: Minor Illusion
Luck: When a roll of 1 on an attack roll, ability check, or saving throw, can reroll the die and must use the new roll.
Brave: Have advantage on saving throws against being frightened.
Nimble: Can move through the space of any creature that is of a larger size.
DEX: 18 (Mod+4)
CON: 14 (Mod+2)
INT: 18 (Mod+4)
WIS: 16 (Mod+3)
CHR: 13 (Mod+1)
Kvothe was born into a band of traveling performers. His loving parents taught their talented child to read and write, and how to act and perform.
When he was only 12 his entire troupe was brutally murdered by an unknown group of evil creatures, of which he got only a fleeting glimpse before they disappeared. Utterly alone in the world, he wandered in the woods for months before straying into the nearby city of Tarbean. Grief stricken and pennyless, he spends the next 4 years staying alive by becoming an expert thief. He uses most of the money to help other orphans and desolate children. His only treasured possession is an ancient book of magic that was a gift from a troop member.
An elderly wizard that saw great magical potential in Kvothe and took him under his wing and began his training. The same book he was trying to decipher in the woods the night his family was killed.
At age sixteen he keeps the promise he made to that long dead wizard and travels to a magical guild. He gains entrance based on his talents and the rare book he holds, which contained an inscription from his former teacher informing any reader of his exceptional skills. He spends his time studying and working hard for his new teachers, but underneath he is still the wild thief from the streets of Tarbean.
After countless nights searching the vast libraries he finds out that his family’s killers are called The Chandrian. He vows to revenge his family’s death no matter how long it takes. Soon after he hears cryptic rumors that the Chandrian’s telltale signs have been seen near Safeton.
So Kvothe leaves his training unfinshed and turns his feet towards Safeton…
Journal of Kvothe – Day 4 Part 1
I am sorry, but this is the first chance I have had in days to put ink to parchment.
The lead I received about Safeton was yet another dead end, so I boarded a caravan heading to Narwell. There was something I read at University about rumors of the Chandrian and the strange blue lights near there. It may end in yet another disappointment, but I made you a sacred promise and I will die before I break it.
But fate, it seems, has finally decided to visit me on this desolate road. After a number of peculiar encounters we stumbled upon a lighthouse that was emitting a blue light! Inside we discovered the sarcophagus of R-Luz, whose essence is trapped and spread across two dimensions. For the first time in years I finally have some glimmer of hope in finding the Chandrian. What is the relationship between R-Luz and the Chandrian? What is the significance of the blue light? I am hopeful that I may soon have the information I need to avenge my family.
Now we are searching for the means to permanently imprison and hopefully destroy him. Which brings me to my new travel companions. This is a disparate group I have been thrown into. More like a discarded pile of shattered glass, all broken and sharp, and just on the verge of fracturing. Yet somehow this seems to be the very thing that is binding us together. We are all damaged in one way or another. But it is hard to be in the company of others again. I have been on my own for so long, it is like waking from a distant but familiar dream – painful, but comforting.
Today we slipped into the underground hideout of a slave ring in Pelgaryn. We killed a dozen orcs, free the slaves and secured one of the two missing artifacts required to destroy Luz. Tomorrow we will continue the search for the last rune. How long I can stay with this band and who I can really trust is still unclear. I will continue to be the quiet little thief that keeps to the shadows until future events reveal themselves.
As I ready myself for sleep, the poem you wrote and were killed for haunts my thoughts…
Cyphus bears the blue flame
Stercus is in a thrall of iron
Ferule chill and dark of eye
Usnea lives in nothing but decay
Journal of Kvothe – Day 4 Part 2
I awoke in a cold sweat. The smell of rancid waste and the filth of the city strong in my nose. My body jerks in reflex, keeping me from sliding into the putrid waters of the sewer. I bolt upright, my daggers in each hand, ready for whatever dangers lie in wait.
But my body is not in the catacombs underneath Tarbean. Instead it is in a comfortable bed in Pelgaryn, at an Inn hundreds of leagues from that ancient city. But was I not just in the sewers?
I put down the daggers and sit on the edge of the bed, my head resting in my hands as the details of the day’s labors slowly wash over me. I realize that I have only been asleep a few hours.
I had the dream again. I am running. The clearing is aglow as blue light shears through the forest floor. I see you and Mother, I see the Chandrian standing over you, I see swords dripping red, I see the essence of evil. This time I will make it, this time I will save you. But just as I close on the clearing unseen hands hold me prisoner, forcing me to watch, helplessly. Then darkness.
I need a drink.
With my cloak drawn tight I slip out of the Inn and through the streets unseen.The air is cool and sweet compared to the orc filled sewers. Much was accomplished today, but there is something that haunts my thoughts, a face.
Within a few minutes I am staring at the door of the Thieves Guild. I slip in and move to the shadows. Even highly trained thieves have trouble detecting me in my cloak. After a quick look around I head to the bar and order a stout. As I drink I notice a face at a corner table that wasn’t there a minute ago. The face smiles and motions me over.
“I’ve been waiting half the night for you to return Kvothe,” he says as I sit across from… Who? I do not recognize him, but he is not completely unknown to me. I have seen him before. But where, at University? Somewhere. He sits back in his chair, a smug grin occupying his face.
“You deserve that after the day you’ve had. I’m sure you would have preferred been down there tomorrow when Markessa will be there. But then again I don’t think your little band is ready for her and Theg. You barely made it out today, and that was against a few dull-witted orcs.”
“How dare you!” I protested. But his grin only grows wider.
“Congratulations Kvothe, you’ve finally found the road you have so desperately sought. But take care, you are just at the beginning of your journey. Right now you’re not strong enough to even be an annoyance to the Chandarian let alone a threat. Work hard, stay focused, you’ll get there. And this will help.”
He slides some parchment across the table. My fingers tremble as I pick it up. Even in the low light I instantly see that it is a page torn from my book of magic. As I examine the page I barely hear him speak. “Remember, Stercus is in a thrall of iron.”
I slide my fingers across the strange lettering on the paper. Then I notice that there is hand writing on the page, it looks like a translation. And then a wave of excitement takes hold of me. “Where did you…” But he is gone. I quickly look around, but nothing, not even a trace.
I stand outside of the Thieves Guild, staring up at the moonlight. Too many questions. I look down at the parchment and speak the words in the first translation. At that moment my hand feels tingly as I see sparks flying from my fingertips.
Journal of Kvothe – Day 9
So much has happened in nine days.
For nine days I have been in the party of… of… what? I do not know what to call them. We have traveled and slept and fought together, looked out for one another, and kept each other alive. And today we worked together to vanquish… a wizard?… a demon? Something about this vile creature feels familiar.
I am restless, sleep does not find me, for the Chandarian still walk the earth. One may be imprisoned, but it is a fool’s dream to think that any prison could hold these demons for long. Evil cannot be contained, it must be dispatched.
Also the dwarf snores louder than a mountain troll with the Tarrasquen flu.
Then I hear someone call out to me. I look around, but there is no one else awake, just a mouse scurrying across the floor. I pull out some of my rations and give it a meal. You must always help the small things on this earth.
I stand up and stretch. My muscles are tight. As I move silently to the door I hear the voice again. But outside there is nothing but starlight. I look out across what is left of the town and see a figure disappear into a house. I do not recognize him. But yet I do.
Running to the door, I fling it open and see my strange benefactor from Tarbean. But how? He is sitting in the same smug position as in the bar, like no time had passed. He pushes a mug towards me and says “You look like you could use a drink. Stout, right?”
I stand there, my jaw hanging open.
“I tell you Kvothe, you do not disappoint, that is a fact. Your new friends are pretty impressive as well. I think that you just might make it through this thing alive." He kicks a chair towards me and says “Sit, this beer won’t drink itself.”
I ignore the chair and walk up to the table. “Who the hell are you?!” A slight smile escapes his face, but his eyes reveal nothing.
“Here’s something else you could use.” My eyes grow wide as he pulls out my book of magic from underneath the table. "I’ve added a few notes in here that I think you’ll like.”
“What? How?" This should be in my backpack! I snatch the book from his hands and open it to find more spells have been translated. As I am reading I hear him say “You’ve done more today than you even yet realize. Stay focused. We’ll meet again soon Kvothe, son of Arliden.” I look up, but I already know that he is gone. I take the book and begin to turn towards the door, pause, then grab the stout and down it in three gulps. I am not an idiot.
I close the door behind me. There, in the distance, is the spot where the wizard was destroyed. My skin turns cold as ice as I get closer. Staring down at the blackened earth I know that there is still so much to do. Someday, Father, that will be the Chandarian’s scorched mark on the earth.
I see Helm in the distance, and exchange nods with the cleric. I have no use for Gods. When have the Gods ever helped us, Father. The only God I believe in is Death, and today He was finally appeased. But still, there is something about this man that inspires confidence.
The elf walks up to him and places a sword at his feet. The same sword that has caused so much talk and debate. We know that things mean nothing, don’t we Father. When the people you love the most are taken from you, what is the worth of gems and coin. And steel is only as good as one who wields it.
The two move off in different directions. Relationships are complicated and exhausting. I have not spent this much time with anyone since you were taken from me. I still keep my opinions to myself… mostly. I don’t need these complications. Honestly Father, is ANYONE going to get my name right?
Yet I remain with them. I don’t really understand this invisible force that keeps me here. We are still like jagged pieces of broken glass, but now it feels like the pieces are starting to fit together. Like some strange puzzle, each piece needing the other to be complete.
I crawl back onto my bunk. The dwarf is gone, maybe now I will finally get some rest.