Danelion Erion
From Rathe
Danelion Erion was a grey elf necromancer (wizard) played by User:ErjadTheCowSlayer, in the Rathe party,"The Conscripts". Danelion died 12/9/06. (out of game date)
His journal can be found here: Danelion's Journal
Contents |
Short Intro
Danelion Erion was a grey elf, and proud of it! He was a wizard, a necromancer, specifically, but resented the social stigma of it. He had an astronomical intellect, and he would let people know it. He wasn’t keen to combat, being weak (even in grey elf standards), and believed that magic can triumph over any obstacle. Danelion came off as vindictive, paranoid, and depressed at certain times in his life. He also tended to be honest, arrogant, and judgemental. Danelion felt that his "noble" elvish upbringing made him fortunate, and felt that humanity (minus elves, of course) as a civilization, is declining. He also liked his cat, Taemurion, way, WAY too much. He mainly worships Wilven and Anaxera, and honestly believed that his time was coming. Unforunately for him, he was right.
Character Block
Name:
Danelion Erion
Size and Type:
Medium Grey Elf Wizard (necromancer)
Hit Dice:
5HD ( hp 21 )
- 1st roll: 4
- 2nd roll: 2
- 3rd roll: 2
- 4th roll: 4
- 5th roll: 4
- CON bonus HP: 5
Initiative:
+1
Speed:
30ft./x4
Armor Class:
AC 12 (+1 Dex, +1 Deflect), Touch 12, Flat-Footed 11
Base Attack/Grapple:
+2/+0
Attack:
Light Crossbow-- To hit: +3 – Dmg: 1d8 – Crit: 19/20x2
Full Attack:
Yeah right...
Space/Reach:
5ft./5ft.
Special Attacks and Special Qualities:
Summon Familiar (Cat)
"Shanty Sense" (may attempt a DC 0 Gather Infomation check to find the nearest shanty in Kest.)
Cosmic re-rolls: 1
Saves:
Fort: 2
Rex: 2
Will: 4 (+2 vs. enchantment)
Abilities:
- STR: 6
- DEX: 12
- CON: 12
- INT: 21
- WIS: 10
- CHA: 10
Skills:(ranks in it)
- Concentration: 9 (8)
- Decipher Script: 9 (4)
- Knowledge-Arcana: 12 (7)
- Knowledge-Arch&Eng: 6 (1)
- Knowledge-Dungeoneering: 7 (2)
- Knowledge-Geography: 8 (3)
- Knowledge-History: 12 (7)
- Knowledge-Local: 10 (5)
- Knowledge-Nature: 6 (1)
- Knowledge-Nobility/Royalty: 6 (1)
- Knowledge-Religion: 13 (8)
- Knowledge-Planes: 6 (1)
- Spellcraft: 15 (8)
Feats:
- Scribe Scroll [B]
- Alertness [B]
- Spell Focus: Necromancy
- Greater Spell Focus: Necromancy
- Empower Spell [B]
Environment:
Semi-mountainous village
Organization:
Adventuring Party
Challenge Rating:
5
Treasure:
About 4700 gp worth of coin and goods, minus his spellbook
Alignment:
Do not post on this (because I might be diabolically evil?)
Advancement:
Not anymore...
Level Adjustment:
+0 LA (5 ECL)
His Story
Danelion in the village
Danelion came from a southern mountain village called Sertijar, with lies on a semi-important trade route. He is the last child of the Erion family, a proud, honor bound, “rich” family. His dad, Riceak, being a skilled archer, tried to push it onto his kids. But, Danelion never got the hang of it, struggling to pull the bowstring back, always having mishaps with it, and would rather just read books. Unfaltering, his dad pushed harder, while Danelion drifted farther away. He met an elven mage known only by “Ijixiari”, who taught Danelion the basics of arcana, mainly to get back at his dad.
Danelion felt that he had to keep has arcane studies a secret from his dad. He grew absent-minded, daydreaming about powerful magic while his dad persisted in his “art of war” teaching. One day, his secret was uncovered, when his dad got suspicious, searched his room privately, and found Danelion’s spellbook of cantrips. He put it back, only to shadow Danelion the next day. His father was led to Ijixiari, and heated argument raged between the two.
Danelion in the “Grand Caravan”
During the argument, Danelion snuck off, went through town, only to see a huge caravan. Filled with curiosity, wanderlust, and general wanting to get away from his dad, he tried to get onto the caravan, and with a lot of pleading, became an accountant, minor diviner, and errand runner for the caravan. He remained on that caravan for two years, and eventually learned the names of everyone, some higher divination off those more magically experienced, and several languages through persistence and curiosity.
However, the novelty wore off. The days were the same, and life for him grew boring. He wanted to go back home. And so he asked, “When will we get back to Sertijar?” He was disappointed to find the answer was, “seven years”. Danelion had a different plan. He begged the major diviner of the caravan to “scry” on his city, and so they went to a small room with a huge mirror. With the incantations, and the gestures, a picture revealed itself in the mirror. It indeed was his hometown!
It was his hometown, but it wasn’t anything like when he left it. He saw ruins of houses he once knew; he saw elves, horribly impaled and slashed on crude weaponry, rotting on the village roads; he saw his childhood, gone! “No! This can’t be! Something must be wrong with the spell!”
This denial continued, and then he wept bitterly. He thought about the people that had been in his life, Ijixiari, his mother, Thermuryn, his father Riceak, his siblings, the childhood friends… Danelion then looked at his ring, bearing the seal of the house of Erion. He was the last! The scryer tried to console him, but couldn’t find the right words, and Danelion stormed to his bed, and cried himself to sleep.
During that winter, his attitude changed. He gradually lost his natural happiness, his spontaneity, and most of his enthusiasm. The beautiful winter landscape couldn’t cure his desolation. He still intended to leave the caravan, however, by that time, they where nowhere near civilization. And so, he continued his duties with a sigh, until one day he saw a bustling city by the sea.
Danelion in the big city
Having no further need of his services, and having asked to leave, he was dismissed. Having no foundation, he was quickly overwhelmed by the city of Ebheim. He found himself alone, insecure, and afraid. The caravan master had recommended he see a magical school in the city. And so, without direction, he tried to find it, asking around, but found little success, until another elf told him.
And so he joined, with amazing success. He primarily learned the powers of unlife, finding his morbid attitude as a “catalyst” and a reason for necromancy. However, magic academies do not put food on the table, so he sought out a job, and was lured into an organization known as “The Conscripts”. He lured by promises of seeing the world, gratuitous wages, etc. He found himself as an errand runner, again. But at least he had room and board, and a semblance of income.
Nothing eventful took place during that spring. He soon found a library, joined it, and studied what they had, particularly religion and history. He also had gathered up what money he had, and got a familiar. When the magical beast came into existence through the ritual, he found that the cat had the same eyes as his mother! The two have been inseparable ever since, and it seems that Danelion is only truly happy when playing with his cat, Taemurion.
It took months before they realized Danelion’s potential. Soon, he was actually sent on minor missions. And then he was set up on an “important” mission, which pleased him. He took the mission to heart, met the team, went on the boat, and said goodbye to the city. (He takes a liking to the half-elf wizard, Deronath Liadon.)
His Death
Short version:
Danelion Erion died in a tower full of aberrations, when a gibbering mouther engulfed him and drained all the blood from his body.
Long version:
I somehow knew that my life was going to end, soon. I didn't expect it to be that soon. You should ask what an elf's definition of soon is. You'll be surprised.
All I remember is that we were gloriously defeating aberrant creature in a tower. I was using my arcana genius (as always) to defeat the foul beings.
Nevyn got engulfed by a cloaker. He was wrapped head to toe in it. He tried desperately to get out of its grasp, but couldn’t. I was scared. A ray of hope shone through we he had finally slipped out of it, and soon afterward we dispatched the thing. I thought that would be the only time death would come to visit.
Ah, Nevyn, I wish I had half your luck…
I all came so suddenly. I guess I should have put more stock into the wisdom of Wilven and Anaxera, but it’s too late now.
The thing in the basement was the one that did me in. It was horrible! It was a fleshy, oozy… thing… that was covered in eyes and mouths!
I did what I usually did, got in the back, and launched devastating spells at it. The foul thing resisted my magic! Maybe if I had put more effort into the spell…
But alas, the world is not a huge game of maybe and should have…
I’m digressing. I didn’t expect it to lurch so suddenly at me. I didn’t except it to launch so many mouths at me!
It was tragic, so very, very tragic…
It caught me off guard, spiting acid into my eyes! I reeled back, unable to see, my eyes burning in pain, the spittle clinging to them. The world became dark. Very dark. I felt the other mouths clank off my armor, but some got through…
It was tragic, so painfully tragic…
One of them latched onto my lower leg, sinking its sharp teeth into me, holding on like an infernal vice. The pain was insurmountable! The pain shot through me like ten thousand needles!
As soon as this pain shot through my body, three other mouths latched onto me, and embedded themselves into my flesh. I screamed. I struggled, I wanted to live!
But it was not so. The darkness claims all…
One of them fell out, but three remained, clamped onto me for what seemed eternity in unbearable agony!
I though I knew what unbearable agony felt like… I was wrong. Dead wrong.
The horror came when I felt it oozing onto me. I squirmed, hoping to escape its clutches. I didn’t. The thing came upon me, and wrapped itself around me! I felt its oozy flesh go around me, constricting me, binding to me! I felt it wrap around my ankles, gluing me to the floor!
That would be my tomb… My inescapable tomb of putrid flesh and teeth…
I continued to panic and struggle to free myself, but the mouths held fast as they sunk deeper into my flesh. I tried, but my feet were unable to lift the flesh bound to them! And then, suddenly, more teeth sank into me! One went and clamped itself firmly around my ankle, piercing through my boot! Another one sunk into my exposed neck, and held on firmly! More went into my arms, hands, body, there were innumerable needles deeply piercing my flesh!
And then I knew what unbearable agony felt like…
I then remember becoming weak and dizzy, still trying to escape, I remember losing more energy every moment, as the infernal thing held onto me even harder…
And now I’m here…
I’m here, without body, without arcana. I’m here standing at the threshold between life and death.
What fate lies with me on the other side of the gate?
At least my cat has survived, and has another master that can speak to it and give it love. Love and catnip…
At least I didn’t have to buy my love from my cat… I miss her so very much…
((The necromancer has died. It tastes like irony…))
Trivia
- Danelion's familiar, Taemurion, is now Niro's pet cat.
- There are rumors of his brother joining the party in the future.
- Danelion's name is very similar (only one letter off) to the word dandelion, a weed. The similarity is pure coincidence.
