{{tag> fighter drow player greyhawk C10 }} ====== Arno Kell ====== ===== Arno ===== {{ character:media:arno_icon.png?220 |}} \\ \\ ^Name| Arno Kell | ^Race| Drow | ^Gender| Male | ^Nationality| {{:faction:flag-greyhawk.png?35 }}[[faction:greyhawk|Greyhawk]] | === Character Information === ^ Class | Fighter (Echo), Sorcerer (Shadow) | ^ Born | - | ^ Alignment | Good | ^ Languages | Common, Elvish | ^ Family | (Father)\\ (Mother)\\ | ^ Affiliations | [[c10:start| Whispers of the Wilds]] \\ [[faction:drannor|The Drannor Migration]] | ^ Faith | [[religion:Tyr]] | ^ Profession | Adventurer (ongoing)\\ | === Physical Description === ^ Height | 182cm | ^ Weight | 84kgs | ^ Skin | Dark Grey | ^ Eyes | Red | ^ Hair | White (Shoulder Length) | === Stats === ^ Level | 14 || ^ Init ^ Speed ^ Prof ^ | +5 | 30ft | +5 | ^ HP ^ AC ^ TempHP ^ | 112 | 20(00) | 00 | ^ Ability Scores ||| ^ STR ^ DEX ^ CON ^ ^ 18(+4) | 10(+0) ^ 14(+2) ^ ^ INT ^ WIS ^ CHA ^ | 8(-1) | 12(+1) | 18(+4) | ^ Saving Throws ||| ^ STR ^ DEX ^ CON ^ | +9 | +0 | +7 | ^ INT ^ WIS ^ CHA ^ | -1 | +1 | +9 | | Acrobatics (Dex) | +0 | Medicine (Wis) | +1 | | Animal Handling (Wis) | +1 | Nature (Int) | -1 | | Arcana (Int) | -1 ^ Perception (Wis) | +6 | ^ Athletics (Str) | +9 | Performance (Cha) | +4 | | Deception (Cha) | +4 ^ Persuasion (Cha) | +9 | | History (Int) | -1 ^ Religion (Int) | +4 | | Insight (Wis) | +6 | Sleight of Hand (Dex) | +0 | ^ Intimidation (Cha) | +9 | Stealth (Dex) | +0 | | Investigation (Int) | -1 | Survival (Wis) | +1 | === Spells === ^ Ability | Charisma | ^ Save DC ^ Modifier ^ | 17 | +9 | ^ Cantrips | Dancing Lights (Drow Innate)\\ Mage Hand, Message, Minor Illusion, Prestidigitation\\ | ^ 1st lvl Spells | Faerie Fire (Drow Innate)\\ Salted Earth [Earth Tremor], Feather Fall, The Blackest Night [Shield]\\ | ^ 2nd lvl Spells | Darkness (Drow Innate)\\ Spell 2\\ | ^ 3rd lvl Spells | Spell 1\\ Spell 2\\ | ^ 4th lvl Spells | Spell 1\\ Spell 2\\ | ^ 5th lvl Spells | Spell 1\\ Spell 2\\ | ^ 6th lvl Spells | Spell 1\\ Spell 2\\ | ^ 7th lvl Spells | Spell 1\\ Spell 2\\ | ^ 8th lvl Spells | Spell 1\\ Spell 2\\ | ^ 9th lvl Spells | Spell 1\\ Spell 2\\ | === Spell Slots === ^ 1st lvl ^ 2nd lvl ^ 3rd lvl ^ | 3 | 0 | 0 | ^ 4th lvl ^ 5th lvl ^ 6th lvl ^ | 0 | 0 | 0 | ^ 7th lvl ^ 8th lvl ^ 9th lvl ^ | 0 | 0 | 0 | =====History===== **Traits** \\ *Sociable, *Eager, *Methodical. **Ideals** *Knowledge of the greater powers in this world or the next, *Yearn for answers of his mother's disappearance, *Adventure and glory. ====Pre-Campaign==== My name is Arno Kell. I hail from the region of [[faction:uthasil|Uthasil]] to the far west, where I followed [[faction:drannor|The Drannor Migration]] with my mentor as they journeyed to different locations every few years. A terrible event occurred where the original city of Drannor was completely obliterated through some magical catastrophe. Survivors were limited all except those outside the walls. They were the ones ready to rebuild, ready to bring back the values of the once thriving city. We relish the comradery and community we fostered, it was something I was sorely lacking. Growing up I knew nothing of my father. My mother on the other hand is what kept me going. While we worked a farm in our small village, we were ostracized at all opportunities due to our background. ‘Drow were never meant to be above ground’ and the stories of how ‘they’ll steal your children and slit your throat at night’ never deterred mother, she would always consol me and remind me how great I am for being alive. For being me. I dreamt of being a warrior, a born fighter. Someone who strode head on into battle to fight against evil. Being the valiant defender for the people even if no one liked me. It got me the moniker ‘Broom Boy’ for practicing with a broom handle against a scarecrow when I was young. A small religious group set up shop near our village. They spoke of how ‘mighty powers await your servitude’, looking for people who were interested in their teachings. It was something I had heard of briefly through village mumblings but was curious about these “higher powers”. Setting out for a brief stint of teachings, my mother gave me a lock of her hair and two blue beads strung together in a necklace as means to remember her by. She said it would be a way for her to protect me when she’s not around. This moment would be the last I see her. After setting off, this is where things started to crumble down. [[faction:watching_eyes|The Watching Eyes]] awaited me, and was a few winks from an eternal slumber upon their sacrificial alter. They had intoxicated me and primed to dissect my eyes for this ‘O so powerful being when out of nowhere a piercing warm light shone through the room. A rescue. This half-orc in shinning armour had come to cull this place of the cult, and thankfully save someone in the process. [[character:sir_viktor|Sir Viktor]] was his name, he’s the person who would teach me about this world. After getting myself to safety, Viktor took me back to where the house my mother lived in was. Only to find she had disappeared, completely gone without a trace. And for the house we once lived to be in disrepair and decay. The one person I had in this world, gone. It was in that moment of seeing a boy in anguish, Viktor decided to take me to a safer place and in the process test my mettle after seeing what the Cult of Eyes was capable of doing. Skipping a decade later, I had proven myself worthy of being in the company of Viktor and his travelling order - the Drannor Migration. I was trained with a strict regimen and experienced the same culling that Viktor set out upon with another Cult of the Eyes making themselves know, it was there I happened upon a weapon I still use in spite of the enemy connotations. A trophy used to smite down foes with the same blasphemy they brought upon our world. This was where things changed. The necklace my mother gave me started to hum a soft blue. Whispers not too dissimilar to my mother telling me to “Find the portal. Find the fey wearing this necklace. Find me.” There was no way to respond back and yet I felt the calling all to clearly. It was here I had my goal in mind. To find this portal and whatever fey creature had the same necklace on them. Finally a chance to see her again. [[religion:Lolth]] ====Campaign==== **Moments of respite** Departed into the Fey Wilds has been an experience. A place of wonder, mystery, intrigue and major danger. The companions I’ve made along the way will stay with me forever as well as the enemies I’ve encountered. Such treacherous lands that are untamed and ripe for exploration all brought to a knee under the rule of three hags. Their coven dominates the landmass without question and are a threat to all not just in Fey Wilds. This is a major reason why they need to taken down. Ever since entering here though, I’ve been feeling strange. There’s been this voice slowing echoing within myself, whispering naught but deep-seated feelings and emotions that I try to keep bottled up. It sounds not unlike my own and yet it sounds real. Like it //is// me speaking. That I //do// think these things. Yet I struggle to know my own thoughts at times. It is starting to get to a point where they become more audible in the physical world as oppose to my own mind. Especially when I feel incapable of protecting people anyone, it yearns for myself to know ‘true power’ and become ‘one with yourself’. At first this was something I shook off but now it’s been feeling all the more tempting. I am unsure if this is fey trickery or something deep within calling to me - whatever it is, I’m not afraid of what’s to come. **My Shadow and I** That Xelor held his promise alright, he fit me with a new shadow. Albeit, I could have been warned about the torturous pain the process would be. It wasn't his gaping, abyssal maw that set me spiralling into despair - but it was what I felt after the shadow was infused into myself. These... emotions. These feelings. Things I never knew I felt had suddenly arisen from inside - almost wishing to burst at the seams of my very being. This malice, this anger, sadness and even compassion still flood my senses as if I had taken a concoction most deadly. And it is suffocating. I yearn to know what //thing// was put inside me cause I know this is not normal for me to feel these things. A sense of action I have yet to experience bar the time I was set upon at the Cult of Eyes with Viktor. I know not whether I should revel in this but I do know I need to find out //what// they do for me. The presence of that shadow feels ever-present and intimate with my feelings - like it's feeding off it and absorbing the adrenaline I feel for itself. I said I wouldn't back down to whatever came my way, but I don't believe there's a choice in the matter. Without a shadow, I'll be an easy target for the Fey and their invasive trickery. And in the material plane, I'll be torched without a shadow to ground myself. __Esteem__. That's what he wants to be called. ====Post-Campaign==== Text