Characters

Ira Klxzpn - a male gnome

As a youth, growing up in the city of Slgrthzk, your father, Defelice Klxzpn wasn't around often. He was a great illusionist and he spent a good deal of time on the road, adventuring with his band. Your uncle, Garret Klxzpn was also a member of the band; he was a warrior.

Your father always used to come home after being gone for weeks or even months at a time, with great tales of adventures they had taken. One of the most memorable of your father's adventuring tales was a story of a journey that your father's group had taken into the Valley of the Mad. Apparently, a raiding band had been looting the ruins of the ancient city of Vell. These bandits had apparently made quite a killing and were now hiding out in the Valley. A group of elves, disturbed that their ancient homeland was being plundered, had heard of the reputation of your father's group and hired them to try to recover the looted items.

So, the band traveled into the Valley of Mad. Your father's descriptions of the Valley gave you chills. It was a vast inhospitable wasteland with omnipresent gusts of howling wind. The horrible noises of those winds could drive men insane if they remained in the Valley for long. Foul beasts stalked the nights, scrounging for any kind of food in the deserted emptiness. The winds blew the salty cracked soil onto the men's faces and mouths, and the lack of drinkable water brought dehydration to the unprepared. Bones could be found practically everywhere, partially buried in the parched earth, crunching and snapping beneath the feet of the men as they walked.

After 3 grueling days traveling through the wasteland, your father's group finally found the bandit's encampment. The group silently approached the encampment, then executed their plan. Your father cast an illusion of several desert beasts that they had encountered in their travels. These cat-like monsters had tentacles and sharp claws and teeth. The bandits fell for the ploy and rushed to fend off the fake creatures. As the bandits were distracted, your uncle and a couple other warriors in the group silently moved into the camp, taking the bandits from behind and completely by surprise. After that, the battle was pretty easy; your father's group managed to dispatch the bandits with minimal injuries.

Searching the camp revealed many of the lost treasures the elves claimed to have lost. Also recovered were a few of the bandits' personal belongings. These items would be split among your father's group. One of the most intriguing items recovered from the bandit's personal possessions was a small weapon, a blowgun. Your father inspected the item and found it to be exquisitely crafted, probably magical. Further examination revealed that the blowgun had a name engraved in it, "Beltrim". This was an item that was used by a group of elves, including Beltrim, to slay an evil wizard. This was probably an enchanted item of great power. Luckily, one of the members of your father's group, a young warrior by the name of Brosius Trwlllger was proficient with the blowgun. The group decided to give the weapon to Brosius. Brosius practiced a few times with the blowgun, and discovered that it was, indeed very accurate. Additionally, darts could be fired out of the gun at twice the rate of a normal blowgun. Your father found it curious that the bandits didn't use the weapon in the battle against the group.

All in all, the adventure up until this point had been very successful, however the fortunes of the group were about to change. The men were just finishing packing up all the looted items, when Brosius, who was on guard at the time, announced that he had detected some motion in the distance. Indeed, two huge figures were rapidly approaching. There was no time for the group to do anything except ready weapons and spells in preparation for the ensuing danger.

As the figures neared the encampment, your father recognized the huge beings as frost giants. Your father knew that this battle was going to be trouble.

One of the giants charged into the camp, wildly swinging a huge sword. The other giant stopped to pick up a huge boulder. As he flung the boulder in the group's general direction he angrily bellowed, "You stole our stuff! You're dead!"

The elves had somehow neglected to mention that these bandits had stole the items from FROST GIANTS. Your father had always said that you couldn't trust an elf. Well it was too late now. The group had to fight and hope for the best.

Your father had used his best spells against the bandits, about the best he could do was to cast Mirror Image on himself and step into the fray with his staff. At least the giant would have more targets to worry about. Your uncle fought brilliantly, damaging the first giant twice early in the battle. The other giant continued to heave boulders into the melee. Brosius, however, had managed to nail the boulder-thrower several times with darts from the blowgun. He had even managed to hit once directly into each eye. The now blinded giant's boulder throws were completely errant, and he didn't manage to cause any damage to the group. He even managed somehow to bean the other giant, a devastating blow to the head. Perhaps the group would make it out of this battle after all.

But then things took a turn for the worse. The first giant wound up and aimed a crushing blow towards your father. Had the blow landed, your father said, it would have killed him. But your uncle stepped in front of the blow, taking its full force. He was seriously wounded.

A couple of warriors from the group had rushed to attack the blinded giant as well and had managed to severely wound him. With his dying breath, this giant hurled his last boulder, a huge stone, almost the size of a small house. Miraculously, his aim was true. The boulder headed directly for Brosius. He desperately tried to dive out of the way, but it was not to be. He was crushed; his body and the blowgun forever lost, buried beneath the huge boulder in the sands of the Valley.

Your father pulled your uncle out of battle and tended to his wounds. Fortunately, the boulder hit and the damage your uncle had caused to the first giant were about all he could absorb. The three remaining warriors in the group managed to slay the giant, without sustaining any further serious injuries.

The trip back through the Valley of the Mad was too much for your uncle. The wounds he had sustained in battle were too grievous to allow him to survive the treacherous return trip. He was buried there in the Valley of the Mad, a makeshift marker for his tombstone. Your father and the remaining three members of the band limped home, barely surviving the trip themselves.

The group had made quite a bit of money on this journey. Your mother, being the worrier that she was, tried to convince your father to retire from adventuring, but he would have none of it. He always said, "We just have to be more careful about who we accept missions from. No more elven missions for sure!"

You missed your uncle tremendously. The only thing you had to remember him by was his prized sword, which your father brought home from the Valley of the Mad. Uncle Garret called the sword "Bltz Thnr", which in gnomish meant "blade of fury". Your father had a glass case made for the sword, which he proudly displayed in the house. You often spent hours staring at the sword through the glass, remembering your uncle.

Before his death, he used to always come to your house and the two of you would play fight. He used to let you use one of his swords and the two of you would practice sword fighting. A couple of times, he had even let you wield Bltz Thnr. It was so big and powerful, yet it glided through the air as if you were slicing butter. He taught you more than a few good moves with the sword. You had always dreamed of becoming a great warrior like your uncle Garret.

Your father however, had other ideas for your future. He wanted you to follow in his footsteps and become an illusionist. He had taught you a few simple spells, and you were surprisingly good at it. All the details, however, bored you silly. You moved your pinkie here, your thumb there, then muttered some mumbo jumbo. You longed for the exhilaration of hand to hand combat.

Your father saw your eagerness for battle, but he was not to be deterred. He had secured a place for you in East Lansing I & M (Illusion and Mechanics). This was quite a feat considering that there was a war going on between the Gnomish Kingdoms and the Kingdom of East Lansing. However, the school was quite exclusive and your father, who leveraged his reputation as a skilled illusionist, had managed to convince the school of your potential.

When your father told you of your entrance into the school, you were at a loss. "Father, you know I've always wanted to be a warrior."

"I know son," he replied. "But look, you remember, how big and strong your Uncle Garret was? You just don't have the size or stamina to be a great warrior. Even as big as Garret was, look what happened to him. A warrior is in constant danger. As a spellcaster, you can use your wits against your opponent and not always try to out-muscle him."

He paused for a second and looked at you straight in the eyes, "You're a smart kid, Ira, this is a great opportunity. I know that it seems boring to you now, but just give it a shot. Finish up the schooling and then, if you don't like it, do whatever you want. If you want to go to warrior school, I'll help you all I can. Can you promise to just finish up the schooling first, please?"

You thought about it momentarily. You supposed you owed the school a chance and you really didn't want to disappoint your father. Well, he promised that if you finished the school and still didn't want to be an illusionist, then you could become a warrior. You didn't have much to lose you guessed. "All right, I'll do it," you promised. You then thought further, "Wait. Can I take uncle's sword with me?" You couldn't imagine not being able to look at the sword all the time you were away at school.

"Of course," your father replied. "I know how much it means to you."

So, you packed your things and headed to East Lansing. Life in East Lansing during the war wasn't exactly hospitable. You couldn't walk down the street without being called "big nose" or "super schnoz"; "green banana" was another crowd pleaser. Once someone even threw some vegetables at you. This really made you angry, but there wasn't anything you could do about it now. What you really would have LIKED to do is return home and join the army. Then you would have been able to kick some of these pencil pushing, flat nosed jerks right in their big fat behinds.

After two years in East Lansing, you found that every day you longed more and more to join the gnomish army. But, the East Lansing army was closing in on Slgrthzk and you were afraid that the gnomes would negotiate a treaty before too long. You read the papers daily and it appeared that the two sides were getting closer to an agreement than ever before. You hoped that the gnomes could hold on until you completed your studies.

You had done fairly well in the basic illusion classes you had taken so far. However, your studies had done little to affect your opinion of spell casting. In fact, you think that somehow you had begun to find the art of illusion even more boring than before. But you remembered the promise to your father and pressed on. At least in the coming term you had a class that sounded interesting. "Illusion 304, Use of Illusion in Combat." If this class didn't increase your interest, nothing would.

At first, the class seemed as if it had a great deal of potential. Some of the spells were very powerful and could be used to invoke images of huge fearsome beasts, which could be employed in combat to pummel your opponents into submission. There was also some mention of various other techniques in which these spells could be utilized, falling boulders, illusionary grease slicks and the like, but these all seemed kind of wimpy to you.

The midterm examination for Illusion 304 was rapidly approaching. You had taken a liking to the class and were determined to do well.

On the day of the examination, you reported to class. The instructor, Vosberg Guthrie, took the class into the gymnasium. "I have created a simulated battlefield. These two fine young men," he pointed to a couple of guys on horses and dressed in armor, "will be our foes. The object of this exercise is to delay the approach of the warriors, until your reinforcements can arrive."

You were selected to go first. Adrenaline was flowing through the pit of your stomach. You were finally experiencing the thrill of battle, even if it was only simulated. You imagined the most hideous beast your father had ever described to you, a fire breathing dragon.

You executed the spell perfectly, all of the gestures and phrases were correct. You had nailed it. The dragon appeared, practically filling the entire gym. It even scared you a little, and you knew it was fake. You imagined it swooping down onto its prey, breathing fire. As you pictured the events, the illusionary dragon responded, dive bombing the warriors.

But somehow, the spell did not have the desired effect. The actors seemed to be completely unaffected, simply riding their horses right through the flaming breath of your dragon. From across the gym, you heard your professor yelling; your concentration was broken, the dragon disappeared in a wisp of smoke.

"Mr. Klxzpn, you have never actually SEEN a dragon, have you?" demanded your instructor.

"Well, no," you admitted. "How'd you know?"

"Anyone familiar with dragons knows that fire breathers are RED, not green. Another thing that tipped me off was that dragons typically do NOT have 5 eyes," he replied.

You thought that the extra eyes were a nice touch.

"That was a nice try, but the bigger and scarier you try to make an illusion, the less realistic they will appear," Mr. Guthrie went on. "Also, it is usually better to cast an illusion of something you have actually seen before. It tends to help realism. Another tip, subtlety is paramount."

Subtlety sucks, you thought to yourself. You made up your mind right then and there that this illusion thing definitely wasn't going to work out. You would finish your studies, as you had promised, but after that, you were joining the army.

"OK, who's next?" asked the professor.

The next student was Philo Beddo. He placed an illusion of a pit trap with spikes at the feet of the oncoming warriors. This ploy, of course, worked. The fake warriors bought the trap completely, falling off their horses, grasping at imagined injuries.

"Very nice," said Guthrie. "The twig snapping effect, gave the trap a great deal of realism, making it seem as if the warriors had not noticed the branches covering the trap. They were completely fooled. Excellent."

Philo replied, "Well, I jutht tried to remember what you thaid. About thutlety. That really theemth to work great."

What a butt kisser - an elf, of course. You watched the rest of the class. Fake ropes tripping the horses, a mudslide, a pool of grease. Ho hum. These suckers bought them all. You'd think they would have caught on by now. You couldn't imagine that any of these stupid tricks would work in the real world, in a real battle.

You bore down, determined to get this wretched schooling over with. You had a few electives to fill, and since there weren't any warrior classes available, you decided to take a couple of Invention classes. You signed up for "Mechanical Tinkering 101". You were actually somewhat interested in this subject. It didn't carry the excitement of battle, but at least when you were done inventing a device, you actually had something to show for it. It didn't just disappear in a wisp of smoke. You continued to fill up your electives with invention classes.

In your junior year, you took "Invention 405: Weaponry and Armor". This was definitely the best class yet. You were beginning to mount up on the Invention credits. You decided to earn a minor in Invention. At least you would get something useful out of this education.

You were about halfway through Invention 405 when the idea hit you. It was your dream to be a great warrior. But you didn't have the strength or size, so your father said. What if you could invent something. Something that could make you bigger, tougher and stronger.

You went to work on your idea, spending all your spare time in your dorm room putting together your invention. You lived on only the bare minimum, eating meager meals only once a day, putting all your spare time, energy and money into your new device. You had flushed out the design. The invention would consist of a heavy-duty outer shell made of a flexible, lightweight metal called Cranthium. This metal was kind of expensive, but you needed if for maximum maneuverability. Your uncle always said that he would never wear plate mail, because the stuff was so heavy, you were like a sitting duck.

You invented a special hinge for the joints in the suit, which would actually enhance thrusting and slashing movements with a spring mechanism. The helmet contained a special lens that would allow the wearer to focus in on target areas, thus allowing better accuracy. Then, the final touch. You took Bltz Thnr out of the glass case and built it into the right side of the suit. A simple button push would cause the sword to eject out of the suit and into combat position.

Unfortunately, just as you were completing the suit and graduation time was nearing, the war ended. The Great Hunt, a contest held by the Kingdom of East Lansing, was conducted every seven years. This was the seventh year, and the contest was won by a merchant named Pharandondalae. He made peace with the Gnomish Kingdoms. You were afraid that your hopes of joining the army were dashed.

You found a good warrior school in East Lansing that would accept you and train you. A lot of schools had a problem with you wearing the suit; they refused to accept you. Proper warriors didn't need gadgets in battle, they said. But Warrior Tech eagerly accepted you into the school. Now you just had to hope that your father would make good on his promise to help you. You simply didn't have the funds at this time to pay your tuition.

You returned home to plead your case with your father. "Father, I've finished schooling as promised. I'm afraid I'm not cut out to be an illusionist. I have been accepted to Warrior Tech in East Lansing. I need your help to pay the tuition."

Your father nodded solemnly. "I will do as I promised, son. But what about your size? Have you considered that son? How will you excel as a warrior being so small?"

"I have solved that problem, father," you said as you began unpacking the suit. You outfitted yourself as your father watched. You then demonstrated how your suit provided optimal protection, while still maintaining maneuverability. You showed him how the suit helped to enhance your strength and fighting ability.

He seemed very impressed. "Well, you certainly have thought this out, son. You have recognized your weakness and have corrected it. You may enter the school with my full support and blessings."

You returned to East Lansing happier than you had ever been in your life. You would finally get to become a warrior. You wished your uncle were still alive so he could share in this moment.

Your time at Warrior Tech passed quickly. The suit allowed you to advance through the most difficult classes in half the time it took the other students. A few of the instructors took a liking to you and invited you to join their adventuring group. Finally a chance for some live action.

You had been on a few missions with this group. It was rather small time stuff. A few parties of orcs or goblins were bothering some local village here or there. But on each mission you and the suit both performed brilliantly. You made some adjustments and now had the suit perfectly tuned.

Then came your chance for some real action. One of the professors had an in with the city guard. It seems that the notorious criminal, Jimmy the Hand had escaped from prison. He was suspected to be hiding out in a run down shack in the flats of East Lansing. The guard was looking for some help to move in and recapture the thief. 'The Hand' was a slippery one; they wanted to make sure he didn't escape again. You agreed to join the group.

A party of about 8 warriors joined the next day to move in on 'The Hand'. You approached his suspected hideout. One of the men was assigned to move in and get a close up view of the shack and its reinforcements. He slipped off silently towards the run down building.

He reported back a few minutes later. "He's down there all right. There are four men on lookout, and about six more in the shack. They've got arrow slits in there, so they can sit and pick us off one at a time, and there's not a lot we can do about it."

The guards then began to debate the best way to proceed. About every possible tactic was suggested. One idea was to wait until nightfall and then sneak in, another wanted to bring in some spell casters and blast them. Someone even suggested setting fire to the place. Finally you could tolerate the debate no longer. "Look, just back me up OK," you said, then started running towards the shack.

The group of warriors followed you cautiously, when they got into arrow range, they took cover and readied their bows, waiting for the barrage of fire. As you approached one of the guard's sharp shooters took out the thieves' nearest lookout man. This allowed you to work up a full head of steam. The bandits opened fire upon you. Most of the arrows bounced harmlessly off the solid metal of the suit, although a few managed to find a seam. But you pressed forward. Nearing the house, you leapt wildly. You were now a live wrecking ball, taking out the door and even a portion of the fragile wall of the old shack. You engaged your uncle's sword and began attacking the thieves. In the commotion, only a few of the thieves had managed to hold their positions at the arrow slits. This allowed the rest of the group to move in without being assaulted by arrow fire. After that, the thieves were dispatched easily and 'The Hand' was returned to prison.

Soon, you graduated with honors from Warrior Tech. The adventures with your professors were dwindling. Now that it was summer, they all took their families on vacation or something. You guessed you'd stay in East Lansing for a while until you figured out what you were going to do. Maybe you'd try to start an adventuring party of your own. You drew up an ad for the East Lansing Gazette.

You didn't get a lot of responses right away. A few guys showed up, but they were either wimpy spell casters or elves. Or both. You were starting to get bored. You began patrolling the streets late at night, hoping for some action. Most of the time, nothing happened. You did once stop a kid from pick pocketing some old lady, but that really didn't do a lot to quench your thirst for battle.

There was one time, however, that you did find some action on the streets. You caught two pretty tough looking guys clubbing a helpless gnome lady over the head. Then, they tried to drag her into a cart of some kind. You rushed in to save her. You engaged the sword and flailed at one of the tough guys. They were pretty quick however, and ran off before you could do any damage, leaving the cart behind. You started to pursue them, but the suit didn't allow you to sustain any long runs. Besides, the health of this poor gnomish lady was much more important at this point.

As you went to pick up the unconscious women, you noticed that there were two others gnomes in the cart. Apparently the men you had just run into were behind some of the gnome nappings that you had read about in the paper. Gnomes were disappearing all over the city, and no one seemed to have any explanation.

You placed the lady into the cart and rushed to the nearest healer. Fortunately, all three would be OK, but no one could remember anything about the kidnappers. You didn't get a very good look yourself.

The next day, you entered the local tavern, Doc's Place, for lunch, as you did occasionally. You were enjoying your meal, when a couple of city guardsmen approached you.

"Excuse me sir, are you Ira Klxzpn, who rescued a few gnomes last night from a botched kidnapping attempt?" one of the guards asked.

"Yes, I am," you replied, now puzzled. "Is there some kind of problem here?"

"Well, you've been found in violation of statute 19-5.3, crime fighting without a license," the guard replied. "I'm afraid we'll have to take you to jail."

"What!?" you demanded, bewildered. "You're taking me to JAIL for saving some peoples' lives? What kind of crazy-ass place is this?"

So, you were thrown into jail. You were sentenced to a year. You were allowed to send a message home to your father. After about a week in jail, you had a visitor.

"Hello, I'm Suresh Krthbn a reporter for the Slgrthzk Sentinel. Your father told me your story and I've come to help," he said.

"How the heck are you going to help me? I need a lawyer, not a reporter," you replied indignantly.

"Oh, let me assure you, we'll have you out of jail in no time. Trust me," the reporter smiled. "First you have to tell me all the details about the kidnapping and the rescue."

You told him everything that happened. It was two days later when Suresh returned. "Take a look at this," he said, handing you a copy of that day's Sentinel.

You read the front-page headline, "Gnomish Hero Jailed". Skimming the article, you saw that it told the story of how you had chased off the kidnappers and saved the lives of the three gnomes. "So, what? You've got your story. How does that get me outta here?" you asked.

"Didn't I tell you to trust me? You'll be out of here in a couple of days. You have my word," the reporter replied.

A couple of days later you had another visitor. The man, a gnome, came marching directly towards your cell, several guards following him. "I have a decree here," he said holding up a piece of paper, "from your Grand Pooh-bah, ordering the release of Mr. Klxzpn. He will be forwarded to my custody immediately."

This statement sparked the guards into immediate action. One of the guards checked the authenticity of the document. Apparently, he was satisfied that it was genuine. He barked orders to some of the other guards. "OK, you heard the man, let him go."

The man introduced himself as Sline Esponydus, an emissary of the Gnomish Prince, Isa Skbar. "His Highness has read your story and has arranged for your release."

I'll be damned, you thought. That reporter was right.

Esponydus continued, "He is quite intrigued with your exploits and wishes to meet you personally. He has a rather interesting proposition for you. Transportation to Slgrthzk awaits, if you wish to go."

How could you refuse? The emissary told you where and when to meet the chariot bound for Slgrthzk. You would have an audience with the prince the next day.

You went home and packed and rushed off to catch your chariot. Upon arriving in Slgrthzk, a couple of men escorted you to a nearby inn where you spent the evening. The next day, the same men returned and escorted you to the palace.

You were instructed to wait in a certain room for your meeting with the prince. He did not keep you waiting for long.

"Mr. Klxzpn," the prince addressed you. "I have heard of your heroic acts in the city of East Lansing. Your recent rescue of the three gnomes and your role in the capture of Jimmy the Hand is quite impressive. I have also had several glowing recommendations of your skills as a warrior from the instructors at Warrior Tech."

"Let me tell you why I brought you here. I have decided that the situation with the missing gnomes has gotten way out of hand," he said. "The government of East Lansing has been most uncooperative in our attempts to resolve this situation. I intend to form a party, which I will enter into the Great Hunt of East Lansing. Our success in this hunt will allow us a foothold into their government from which we can force rapid action to stop the kidnapping of our people, and bring those responsible to justice. I would like to offer you a position on the team. Can I count on your help?"

This was a dream come true for you. The chance to prove your skills as a warrior in the greatest contest ever known. You anxiously agreed. You were instructed to report back in one month for additional instructions and to meet the rest of your team members.