D&D nerd stuff....
Heh. When thewolfhound asked me what I wanted to play in his Forgotten Realms D&D campaign, I was unsure. I knew I wanted to play a spell caster but not sure what to actually make.
So, I created a monster. I asked thewolfhound to twink me out.
The end goal will be a Mystic Theurge out of the DMG. However, where the twinkiness comes in to play are the classes she has before she gets Mystic Theurge at level 12.
She started out with three levels of Paladin, and one level of Favored Soul (we started at 4th level). At level 8, she has Paladin 3, Favored Soul 3, and Sorcerer 2. Favored Soul is found in the Complete Divine, and it is the divine caster's equivalent to the Sorcerer. As an ex-Paladin who maintains her vows, she gets her Charisma modifier to her saves. As both a Sorcerer and Favored Soul, she gets her Charisma modifier to her spell DCs, as well as her spells per day. Heh. I only have to raise my Charisma, which is 22 at level 8.
Anyway, she will never have the versitility of a true cleric or wizard. Her spell list will always be limited, as she has to permanently chose her spells. However, she will never have to actually prepare them and will be able to cast them all on the fly.
Oh, and to make role-play interesting, she's an ex-Paladin and currently Favored Soul of Sune, the goddess of Love, Beauty and Passion. So if the char hist is kind of .... fluffy, that's why. ^_~ Mwahahahahah!
~~~<~@ ~~~<~@ ~~~<~@ ~~~<~@
The courtyard garden was lush and beautiful, an explosion of floral reds and golds. Alazia studied the elegantly crimson iris casually. She could hear the low murmur of her parents' voices on the other side of the elaborately carved teakwood door that led into the chapel attached to the manor. She paused for a moment listening to her parents' prayers, a contented smile passing across her face as she listened briefly to their words of love and devotion.
She walked away from the door with the easy, fluid steps of an athlete, her sheer scarlet gown framing her lean, muscular legs and floating gently behind her. She stopped at a stark white bench, beautiful in its classic simplicity, shaded by the fragrantly blossoming tree above it. She sat down with a satisfied sigh, then leaned to lie on her stomach across the bench, a relaxed arm draping down to touch the soft grass.
A slight frown wrinkled her forehead as she studied her arm, distracted from the beauty of the warm, golden afternoon by the faint scar that ran from her elbow up her bicep. The orc that had wounded her three weeks ago died shortly after, and she expected the scar to completely fade away. If it wasn't gone in the next week, however, she fully intended on speaking with her father about it. Jagged scars marred the aesthetic beauty of a well-muscled arm, and just wouldn't do.
She wondered briefly how to break the news to her parents that she was taking a slight sidestep away from the martial ways of the paladin.
Her nose wrinkled with distaste as she remembered her black hair plastered to her forehead with sweat, the heavy armor ruining her favorite crimson silk padded tunic, her beautiful gray dapple charger sticky with blood and dust. She had no intention of breaking her vows; after all, seeking true love and beauty was part of her soul.
The life of a paladin was simply too messy.
She knew the Lady Firehair understood, however, because when Alazia had poured her heart out about her discomfort and discontent in her morning devotions, the silken warmth that had flowed into her had been answer enough. The cool morning breeze had whispered softly and the Lady blessed her as Favored. So now, her armor sat polished and beautiful on its stand in her chambers, a shining work of art in its own right. Her charger lazed in the summer pasture, glossy and silver in the warm sunlight.
She was distracted from her musings by the sound of the chapel door opening. Her parents emerged, hand in hand, gazing into each others' eyes and talking softly. Her father was dressed in a deep red robe of richly embroidered silk, muscular chest open to the waist. His arms were bare as well, except for the golden armbands and bracers. His red-gold hair was long and curly, flowing down his back past his shoulder blades. He was looking at his wife, a woman of statuesque beauty, his equal in height. The alabaster whiteness of her skin was a stark contrast to her raven-black and silky straight hair, which fell well past her waist. Her face was angular in its beauty, like that of a marble statue, full lips and wide eyes as blue as the summer sky.
Alazia sighed again in contentment. She would tell them at dinner.
~~~<~@ ~~~<~@ ~~~<~@ ~~~<~@
So, I created a monster. I asked thewolfhound to twink me out.
The end goal will be a Mystic Theurge out of the DMG. However, where the twinkiness comes in to play are the classes she has before she gets Mystic Theurge at level 12.
She started out with three levels of Paladin, and one level of Favored Soul (we started at 4th level). At level 8, she has Paladin 3, Favored Soul 3, and Sorcerer 2. Favored Soul is found in the Complete Divine, and it is the divine caster's equivalent to the Sorcerer. As an ex-Paladin who maintains her vows, she gets her Charisma modifier to her saves. As both a Sorcerer and Favored Soul, she gets her Charisma modifier to her spell DCs, as well as her spells per day. Heh. I only have to raise my Charisma, which is 22 at level 8.
Anyway, she will never have the versitility of a true cleric or wizard. Her spell list will always be limited, as she has to permanently chose her spells. However, she will never have to actually prepare them and will be able to cast them all on the fly.
Oh, and to make role-play interesting, she's an ex-Paladin and currently Favored Soul of Sune, the goddess of Love, Beauty and Passion. So if the char hist is kind of .... fluffy, that's why. ^_~ Mwahahahahah!
~~~<~@ ~~~<~@ ~~~<~@ ~~~<~@
The courtyard garden was lush and beautiful, an explosion of floral reds and golds. Alazia studied the elegantly crimson iris casually. She could hear the low murmur of her parents' voices on the other side of the elaborately carved teakwood door that led into the chapel attached to the manor. She paused for a moment listening to her parents' prayers, a contented smile passing across her face as she listened briefly to their words of love and devotion.
She walked away from the door with the easy, fluid steps of an athlete, her sheer scarlet gown framing her lean, muscular legs and floating gently behind her. She stopped at a stark white bench, beautiful in its classic simplicity, shaded by the fragrantly blossoming tree above it. She sat down with a satisfied sigh, then leaned to lie on her stomach across the bench, a relaxed arm draping down to touch the soft grass.
A slight frown wrinkled her forehead as she studied her arm, distracted from the beauty of the warm, golden afternoon by the faint scar that ran from her elbow up her bicep. The orc that had wounded her three weeks ago died shortly after, and she expected the scar to completely fade away. If it wasn't gone in the next week, however, she fully intended on speaking with her father about it. Jagged scars marred the aesthetic beauty of a well-muscled arm, and just wouldn't do.
She wondered briefly how to break the news to her parents that she was taking a slight sidestep away from the martial ways of the paladin.
Her nose wrinkled with distaste as she remembered her black hair plastered to her forehead with sweat, the heavy armor ruining her favorite crimson silk padded tunic, her beautiful gray dapple charger sticky with blood and dust. She had no intention of breaking her vows; after all, seeking true love and beauty was part of her soul.
The life of a paladin was simply too messy.
She knew the Lady Firehair understood, however, because when Alazia had poured her heart out about her discomfort and discontent in her morning devotions, the silken warmth that had flowed into her had been answer enough. The cool morning breeze had whispered softly and the Lady blessed her as Favored. So now, her armor sat polished and beautiful on its stand in her chambers, a shining work of art in its own right. Her charger lazed in the summer pasture, glossy and silver in the warm sunlight.
She was distracted from her musings by the sound of the chapel door opening. Her parents emerged, hand in hand, gazing into each others' eyes and talking softly. Her father was dressed in a deep red robe of richly embroidered silk, muscular chest open to the waist. His arms were bare as well, except for the golden armbands and bracers. His red-gold hair was long and curly, flowing down his back past his shoulder blades. He was looking at his wife, a woman of statuesque beauty, his equal in height. The alabaster whiteness of her skin was a stark contrast to her raven-black and silky straight hair, which fell well past her waist. Her face was angular in its beauty, like that of a marble statue, full lips and wide eyes as blue as the summer sky.
Alazia sighed again in contentment. She would tell them at dinner.
~~~<~@ ~~~<~@ ~~~<~@ ~~~<~@