d20 Bastion Press Friends & Familiars.pdf

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HOOKS Abernath still fights the good fight. Though his undead form prevents him from rejoining society, he cares deeply for his people, and does all he can to protect them. PCs can encounter Abernath in one of many ways, here are a few examples: ♦ As agents of the King, the PCs are asked to investigate the now deserted Necromancers keep. They find Abernath inside, trying to recover the bodies of his fallen comrades. ♦ The PCs uncover several of the Necromancer’s minions searching for the missing Abernath. They foil the minion’s plans and gain a valuable ally. ♦ The PCs are rescued by a mysterious undead warrior as they are nearly overwhelmed by a horde of flesh-eating zombies.

HOOKS Abernath still fights the good fight. Though his undead form prevents him from rejoining society, he cares deeply for his people, and does all he can to protect them. PCs can encounter Abernath in one of many ways, here are a few examples: ♦ As agents of the King, the PCs are asked to investigate the now deserted Necromancers keep. They find Abernath inside, trying to recover the bodies of his fallen comrades. ♦ The PCs uncover several of the Necromancer’s minions searching for the missing Abernath. They foil the minion’s plans and gain a valuable ally. ♦ The PCs are rescued by a mysterious undead warrior as they are nearly overwhelmed by a horde of flesh-eating zombies.

Abernath led his Dawnsmen deep into the Necromancer’s lair, and he grew more wary with every step. His team was performing their duties admirably, even superbly, he couldn’t have been more pleased with them, but he couldn’t shake a feeling that things were too easy. When they finally engaged the Necromancer’s troops, his grew more suspicious. He noticed flaws in their tactics and he felt like the Dawnsmen were being lured inside, toward danger. He warned the team of his suspicions, but pressed onward, intent upon reaching their objective. Despite Abernath’s suspicions, the Necromancer used his minions to lure the Dawnsmen into a trap. He prepared his throne room with deadly spells and traps, held back the most powerful of his minions, and waited for them to arrive. The Dawnsmen’s final battle was not short lived. Abernath’s warning prepared them for the throne room trap, and they fought valiantly while he recovered the holy relic. But the Necromancer pressed pre ssed the attack, and the strongest of his minions started to break through the Dawnsmen’s defenses. Several members of the team perished as they retreated back to the keep’s exterior. And Abernath was forced to send his most talented wizard on ahead with the relic. Reluctantly the wizard teleported away, completing the Dawnsmen’s mission. Abernath and his team fought their way out of the keep, and onto the battlements. Escape was near at hand, they could taste freedom, and then it slipped away. away. The Necromancer had been holding back. He tested their strengths, trying to discover which of them was the most capable warrior. He scryed the entire battle from his secure laboratory, and made his choice after seeing Abenath’s efficient leadership and superior tactics. He confronted them directly, and unleashed an arsenal of destructive magic upon them. Abernath watched his team fall around him, and finally, he was the last of the Dawnsmen. The Necromancer captured Abernath, and used him for a necromantic experiment, corrupting his body with the dark arts. But Abernath resisted, and clung to his free will. He survived , and when the opportunity presented itself he escaped the keep and fled.

A BERNATH BERNATH Class/Level: Ranger 8 Sex/Race:  Male Human (Undead) Height/Weight: 5’6", 175lbs. Challenge Rating:  12 Hit Points: 8d10+24 (74 hit points) Initiative: +7 (+3 Dex, +4 Improved Initiative) Speed:  30 ft. Armor Class: 24 (+8 Scale & Plate Armor, +3 Dex, +3 Natural) Attack: Spear +11/+6, Short sword +9/+4 Damage: Spear 1d8+2, Short sword 1d6+2 Special Attacks: Energy Drain, Favored Enemies (Undead +2, Aberrations +1) Special Qualities:  Undead, DR 15/+1, Regeneration (3hp/ hour), Cold and Fire Immunity, Turning Immunity, SR 15, Ambidexterity, Two-weapon fighting, Track Alignment: Chaotic Good Saves: Fort +9, Ref +5, Will +3 Abilities: Str 15, Dex 17, Con 14, Int 13, Wis 11, Cha 16 Skills: Animal Empathy +8, Concentration +9, Handle Animal +6, Heal +5, Hide +8, Intuit Direction +5, Jump +8, Knowledge (Nature) +6, Listen +6, Move Silently +7, Ride +6, Search +7, Spot +6, Swim +5, Wilderness Lore +4 Feats: Cleave, Improved Initiative, Great Cleave, Power Attack.

BACKGROUND Abernath died ten years ago, during the a great war. He was a loyal soldier of the Morning Lord, a gallant gallant paladin knight who commanded the armies of a northern king, and a member of an elite scouting detail, called the Dawnsmen. The Dawnsmen were on a reconnaissance mission, spying on a Necromancer Lord’s keep. Abernath was in command of the unit, he was a veteran with nearly a decade of adventuring experience before joining the Morning Lord’s army. The mission mission was complex; complex; his team team was was expected expected to penetrate the Necromancer’s keep, bypass his defenses, and retrieve a holy relic stolen by the Necromancer’s loyalists. It took nearly three hours for the Dawnsmen to scale the rocks and climb over the outer wall of the keep. They slipped passed the Necromancer’s undead sentries and demonic servants, using stealth, spells, and potent magic items to great effect. Little did they know, despite their efforts, the Necromancer had detected their approach, and allowed them to penetrate his defenses. He was interested in capturing the elite group, so impressed was he with their skills.

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HOOKS Coglinus is loyal to his master but retains independent thought. PCs can encounter him in one of many ways, here are a few examples: The PCs are lost at sea and are rescued by the Captain Whestra and the Enigma. ♦ The PCs discover the wreck of the Enigma just off the coast of an uncharted isle. Coglinus is ♦ the lone survivor. The PCs discover the fabled Lost City and rescue Captain Whestr a and his crew with Coglinus. ♦

Whestra put his new creation to the test. He used its Legend Lore ability to research the talisman, and after only 10 days, Coglinus had analyzed the legends and determined a likely location. He instructed the automaton to Control Weather and the Enigma deftly avoided danger as it navigated a perilous coastline. Its ability to Animate Rope proved useful on deck, and its ability to Call Lightning warded off pirates intent on making use of stormy weather to catch Enigma’s   crew off guard. Whestra beamed with pride at creating so useful a tool. The Enigma and her crew successfully recovered the talisman and returned it to the Hag. News of their success raced across the sea lanes, and soon they were among the most desired adventures on the seas. Captain Whestra seemed invincible, as the riches poured in with each new discovery, and he was unprepared when betrayal reared its head. Whestra never noticed the way his first mate eyed Coglinus. Never knew how the man hated being in the great captain’s shadow. One night, while the Enigma was in port, the first mate and a handful of cronies stole Coglinus and fled into the city. They believed that the automaton was their key to success. The thieves stole a small ship, and set out to sea in search of the Lost City-a legendary place believed to be on a tiny island, far into uncharted waters. They forced Coglinus to use his abilities to aid them, threatening to destroy the creature after it initially refused to help. The automaton followed their instructions to the letter, offering no interpretations of the Legend Lore, and doing nothing of its own volition. The crew fumbled with their orders, and began to understand the folly of their ways as they started into the unknown. They made critical errors, and ended up lost at sea. The men were contemplating mutiny when the Enigma caught them, and they put up little resistance when Whestra came along side and boarded their ship. The former first mate and his cronies were forced to walk the plank, and their ship was hauled back to charted waters. Coglinus was reunited with his master, and together they deciphered the meaning in the Lost City legends. After returning the stolen ship, the Enigma set out for parts unknown, taking up the quest to find the Lost City. Nobody knows if they found it or if they were lost at sea. They have not been seen or heard of since.

 COGLINUS Small Clockwork Automaton Hit Dice: 12d10 (62 hit points) Initiative: +0 Speed:  30 ft. AC: 25 (+1 Size, +12 Natural, +2 Reinforced Armor) Attacks: Slam +5 melee Damage:  Slam 1d8+5 Face/Reach: 5 ft. by 5 ft./ 5 ft. Special Qualities:  Suresight, Low-light Vision, Speech, Skill Competence (Scry +10) Saves: Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +3 Abilities: Str 14, Dex 11, Con —, Int 18, Wis 10, Cha 6 Skills: Knowledge (arcana) +12, Knowledge (Legends) +12, Listen +14, Scry +24, Spellcraft +14, Spot +14 Feats: Alertness, Fine Manipulation, Reinforced Armor, Skill Focus (Scry) Challenge Rating:  8 Alignment: Lawful Neutral Spells (as 12th level wizard): (at will)  Animate Rope,  Arcane Eye, Detect Magic, Detect Secret Doors, Light, Locate Object, Read Magic, Scrying, Tongues ; (1/day)  Analyze Dweomer, Call Lightning, Create Water ; (1/ week) Control Weather, Legend Lore, True Seeing, Greater  Scrying

BACKGROUND Coglinus was born in a workshop, amidst cogs, wheels, beakers, books, and other wizardly accoutrements. Its maker-a wizardly scholar and explorer-designed this highly versatile magical tool as a companion for his dangerous expeditions into the unknown. Whestra, as his master was called, loved the sea, and he captained his own ship, a beautiful galleon called Enigma. He paid his crew handsomely and earned their loyalty with his shrewd seafaring. Whestra designed Coglinus to help navigate-both at sea and during expeditions. He sailed to the Isle of Dread and bartered with Sorcha the Sea Hag for an entire Sirian Stonea seeing stone with all the properties of a crystal ball-and two shards of a second. He agreed to accept a  geas to sail to the First Coast, and recover a talisman that had been lost to the Hags for generations. On a long journey Whestra carefully constructed Coglinus, its armor shell housed the Sirian Stone. The stone would not only function as the construct’s mind, but also its power source. Whestra inscribed runes of power in strategically placed locations, and imbued the creature with magic. His spells awakened the Sirian Stone, and bestowed a rudimentary consciousness upon the creature.

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HOOKS Dusk is a vicious creature, and would be a suitable companion for evil PCs and NPCs alike. Licinivus uses the creature as an enforcer, so it will be easy to introduce the beast to your players. Here are a few examples: ♦ The PCs are investigating an old town graveyard when they stumble across Dusk on an errand for Licinivus. ♦ The PCs double-cross a local merchant. He hires Licinivus to collect the money owed to him by the PCs, and brings Dusk along as muscle. ♦ The PCs are hired to infiltrate Licinivus’s stronghold. Dusk is patrolling the compound, and discovers them.

DUSK Medium-Size Outsider (Evil) Hit Dice: 6d8+18 (42 hp) Initiative: +5 (+1 Dex, +4 Improved Initiative) Speed:  50 ft. AC: 14 (+1 Dex, +3 natural) Attacks: Bite +7 melee Damage:  Bite 1d6+4 Face/Reach: 5 ft. by 5 ft./5 ft. Special Attacks: Bay, Trip Special Qualities:  Shadow Blend, Scent Saves: Fort +7, Ref +5, Will +5 Abilities: Str 17, Dex 13, Con 17, Int 6, Wis 12, Cha 13 Skills: Listen +8, Spot +8, Wilderness Lore +7 Feats: Dodge, Improved Initiative Challenge Rating:  5 Possessions: Blackshield (see below) Alignment: Neutral Evil

BACKGROUND The creature known as Dusk is a shadow mastiff of unusual intelligence, perhaps even an alpha male of its kind on the demi-plane of shadow. His existence on the prime material plane is due to the machinations of his master, the shadowmage Licinivus. Early in Licinivus’ career, the shadow-mage entered into a pact with an entity from the demi-plane of shadow that was eager to exert influence on this plane. The nameless entity gave Licinivus inspiration in dreams that would come in the predawn twilight. Using the otherworldly instructions, the industrious shadow-mage constructed an item of startling and insidious power: Twilight Illuminus, an ornately designed lantern that contained a permanent gate to the demi-plane of shadow. One of the powers of this magical lantern was that it could summon a shadow mastiff once a day, but only in the short time between day and night. The first few times Licinivus called upon Twilight Illuminus, the mastiffs that were summoned lacked the cunning the shadow-mage desired in his servants. One evening, however, Dusk answered the call. Licinivus saw in this creature the wits and subtlety he desired in a companion. Alas, the time he spent with Dusk was brief, but the shadowmage once again called upon his benefactor from the realm of gloom. In an altered familiar-summoning ritual using the Twilight Illuminus, Licinivus gated in Dusk and bound him body and soul. What is unknown to Licinivus is that the same entity who inspired the Twilight Illuminus sent Dusk to the unwitting shadow-mage. His purpose is as yet undetermined, but at this point Licinivus cares not. He has become the

most powerful mage in the northern provinces and is reveling in his stature. Dusk has a history as complex and enigmatic as any human’s. His rise to prominence within shadow mastiff society is largely unknown. He is considered a cunning and ferocious adversary. His intelligence is far beyond most of his kin, provoking the speculation that he is the chosen of some more powerful shadow entity. Even those of more brute physicality have fallen before the commanding presence of Dusk. Dusk stands an impressive five feet tall at the shoulders and is a staggering ten feet long from nose to tail. His features are similar to those of most shadow mastiffs but differ in the face. His enormous eyes burn with an almost human intensity and his face is extremely expressive. Even without speech, Dusk can communicate with perceptive individuals with great accuracy. With the magical bond that he and Licinivus share, the two beings work in complete harmony. In spite of Dusk’s impressive array of abilities, the creature had always suffered from the debilitating weakness of his shadow kin: his inability to function effectively under direct or intense light. His master, always looking to maximize Dusk’s efficiency, constructed a collar from the hide of an exceptionally large darkmantle and set it with an enchanted black diamond. This collar, dubbed Blackshield,  can negate any light-based spell or effect in Dusk’s immediate area, giving the shadow mastiff an advantage in even the most unfavorable conditions. Dusk revels in his role of enforcer and confidant of Licinivus. He is as calculating and possibly crueler than his master. In fact, many times even Licinivus has been frightened of the massive beast. When Dusk is given a target by his master, his supremely malicious nature is magnified. If given time, Dusk will torment his victim for days and weeks on end. This cat and mouse game goes on until Dusk finally grows tired of the torment or the victim ends its own existence to be done with the agonizing ordeal. When in an unknown situation Dusk analyzes the circumstances using his formidable stealth abilities, formulates a plan, then strikes. If no advantage is to be gained, he will retreat to a better vantage point and reevaluate the scene. Dusk has only one weakness: his perfectionism. This bothers Licinivus, who sometimes just wants the task to be done. This has put the pair at odds more than a few times.

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HOOKS Eriv does spend time with any one adventuring party for very long. His grating personality makes it difficult for most people to get too close to the young warrior, and he doesn’t do much to change this fact. Here are a few ways to introduce him to PCs: ♦ Eriv is sleeping in the stables of the inn the PCs are visiting. He saves their horses when the stables mysteriously catch fire in the middle of the night. ♦ Eriv spends some time drinking and gambling with the PCs during a springtime festival. He offers them his services, as he’s currently between jobs. ♦ Eriv takes a job as a guard in the same caravan the PCs are traveling with. When they set off to investigate raiders that have been harrying the caravan, he offers to go with them.

Fiercely devoted to his mother but yearning for adventure, Eriv found himself torn between protecting her and living his dreams. A young man’s dreams often win out over his duty. Eriv didn’t need to make that choice, for it was made for him one afternoon following the fall harvest festival. A traveling minstrel group came to town to perform and earn a bit of coin to feed themselves. In this group, a fiddler worked the townspeople with his jaunty songs, stirring many to dance in the streets. Quite the ruckus it created at some points, diverting attention from one of the minstrels. The juggler, so handy with his nimble fingers and quick movements, had slipped away from the group to rob the empty households of gold. As fate would have it, Eriv’s mother had not left home to watch the festivities and was caught unawares by the thief. Eriv will never tell exactly what befell his beloved mother, but it is thought that some dastardly fate awaited her at the hands of the intruder and his memories are much too painful to speak of. Suffice it to say, after the minstrels faded away into the wilderness, Eriv discovered his mother’s broken body. Grief tinged with madness ripped through Eriv, who had at this point grown into a strapping broad-shouldered young man. Taking up his sword, he swore vengeance upon all who would harm the innocent, especially women. With fellow townsmen, Eriv led the pursuit upon the minstrels. A day later, the group was happened upon in a clearing. The juggler was pulled from the group as Eriv drove his sword home, piercing the man’s heart. From that day forward, he never returned to his village. Blood upon his hands and a mission in his heart, Eriv became a protector of the innocent. Occasionally he would allow himself to be hired out as a bodyguard, but for the most part he traveled the land joining random parties for companionship. Legend has it that many times certain party members would find the need to leave this existence unexpectedly if their unwholesome deeds upon the innocent came to light or were foolishly bragged about. Eriv tends to be a quiet man unless he is plied with ale. His loosened tongue will spin stories of his adventures and travels. There are times when the drink will slip him into a deep depression and he will speak of nothing but the death of his mother and his vengeance. Many a party members avoid giving Eriv ale lest they be subjected to his ranting and crying about his past. Without the alcohol, Eriv is a stolid and reliable fighter within any party.

ERIV Class/Level: Fighter 4 Sex/Race:  Male Human Height/Weight: 5’9", 165lbs. Challenge Rating:  4 Hit Points: 4d10+8 (29 hit points) Initiative: +7 (+2 Dex, +4 Improved Initiative) Speed:  30 ft. Armor Class: 17 (+5 Chainmail, +2 Dex) Attack: Longsword +4 Damage: Longsword 1d8+3 Alignment: Chaotic Good Saves: Fort +5, Ref +3, Will +1 Abilities: Str 15, Dex 15, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 10, Cha 14 Skills: Climb +5, Jump +5, Profession (Fisherman) +4, Spot +3, Swim +5 Feats: Blind Fight, Combat Reflexes, Endurance, Improved Initiative, Power Attack, Quick Draw

BACKGROUND Eriv came from a little-known town on the shores of a fishing area. He was a bastard by birth yet not belittled for his lineage, for many a young lass was gotten with child by passing adventurers in his village. His mother raised Eriv lovingly, as he puts it, but i t is suspected many in the town helped rear him. Expected to become a fisherman, Eriv was apprenticed to the local boaters to learn the trade, but Eriv had other dreams. He dreamed of becoming an adventurer like his mysterious father, fighting for good and saving the young ladies of the land, and filling his pouches with gold. When not catching fish and repairing nets, young Eriv would practice with his tiny sword and assortment of throwing knives, honing his skills. More than a few trees by his mother’s house bore the brunt of his practice he would at times boast about. Occasionally, a random party of souls looking for a quest of some sort would stumble upon his humble village for a rest. Eriv always seemed to be able to persuade the strongest warrior of the group to teach him to fight. His mother would pale at the bruises and cuts Eriv presented to her each night with a proud grin upon his winsome face. Every now and then, a generous warrior would gift the boy with a larger sword with which to practice. His skill, of course, increased over the years, and soon it was obvious that Eriv would never be content to be a mere village fisherman. His eyes shone brightly with repeated tales brought to him by travelers of fighting fiends and foes in dungeons and castles. His mother would worry herself to tears some nights thinking of her only child off fighting the monsters of legend.

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HOOKS Fionadell is as curious and headstrong as she is beautiful. She gratefully attaches herself to any party that interests her. She’s on a quest for power, and will do what she must to fi nd it. Here are a few ways to incorporate Fionadell into the PCs storyline: ♦ Fionadell spies the PCs as they pass along the edge of her father’s kingdom. She quietly follows them until they make camp for the night, and then introduces herself. ♦ Fionadell runs afoul an evil sorcerer who captures her to experiment on. Luckily, the sorcerer runs is discovered by the PCs, who free the captured pixie. ♦ The PCs encounter Fionadell fighting with a goblin war band and come to her aid.

FIONADELL Class/Level: Adept 6 Sex/Race:  Female Pixie (Small Fey) Height/Weight: 2’8" / 25lbs. Challenge Rating:  8 Hit Points: 1d6+6d6 (31 hp) Initiative: +4 (Dex) Speed:  20 ft., fly 60 ft. (good) Armor Class: 16 (+1 Size, +4 Dex, +1 Natural) Attack: Dagger +5 Melee; or Composite Shortbow +6 Ranged Damage: Dagger 1d4-2; or Composite Shortbow 1d6 Special Attacks: Spell-like Abilities, Special Arrows Special Qualities:  SR 16, Natural Invisibility Alignment: Neutral Good Saves: Fort +1, Ref +7, Will +8 Abilities: Str 7, Dex 18, Con 11, Int 16, Wis 15, Cha 16 Skills: Alchemy +12, Bluff +7, Concentration +10, Craft (brewer) +10, Knowledge (arcane) +10, Knowledge (nature) +10, Listen +7, Perform (dance, melody, pipes) +7, Sense Motive +6, Scry +10, Spellcraft +10, Spot +8 Feats: Brew Potion, Craft Wondrous Item, Dodge, Point Blank Shot, Rapid Shot, Skill Focus (Alchemy), Scribe Scroll, Weapon Finesse (dagger), Weapon Focus (shortbow) Spells:   (0) detect poison, detect magic, read magic ; (1st) obscuring mist, change self ; (2nd) misdirection

BACKGROUND Fionadell is from the Great Forest. Idyllic and serene, the forest protected and housed the fey, and most notably, the royal family of their kind. Fionadell was fortunate enough to be born into the royal family and lived a sheltered existence as the pampered princess of the fey King. Life was perfect for the fairy folk, who frolicked undisturbed in the wild woods and streams Possessed of a restless and inquiring spirit, Fionadell did not usually hide from the few strangers who dared to venture into her father’s domain. Several times, the king’s guards reported that she had been witnessed alighting on the shoulders of a wayward traveler. She would be seen whispering in their ears before flitting away into the leaves above. The king normally lightly scolded his daughter on the dangers of speaking with strangers and urged her to be more careful. Fionadell disobeyed him, and as chance would have it, one night an old wizard moved into a clearing along the shore of the Lake of Songs, resolved to live out his days in quiet and solitude after years of adventure. The Lake of Songs provided him the peace and quiet he needed to relax

and meditate. Fionadell watched him for a week as he puttered around his makeshift camp. He had the smell of death about him, and the fairy princess realized he had come here to die in peace. This man would have much to teach her before he left this world, she thought, as she watched him one morning mix a potion that left the area smelling like sulfur. He had several books and scrolls with him that he would page through on occasion as the potables were combined. She wondered what mysteries those pages must contain, as she sat concealed within the leaves of a nearby bush. During the second week, Fionadell began whispering into the old man’s ear as he slept, leaving him with the urge to speak of his talents. Over the weeks, Fionadell began to pick up on the ways and purposes of magic from the dying wizard. Greedily, the princess drank in all the information she could before her source was but decaying flesh and bones upon the leaf-strewn forest floor. She dreamed of being able to cast spells and brew poisons with just a few words and pinches of ingredients. As the weeks passed, it was obvious that the days of the old wizard were coming to a close. His waking hours became shorter and the nightmares of his adventures became more vivid and longer. Fionadell would sit by him during the dreams and take in all the muttered information she could before it was too late. Her own mind traveled in directions beyond the forest to see what amazing sights this dying man had seen and done. The nightmares ended one night as the muttering slowed and slurred, the man dying in his sleep before her. As his breath stilled upon his cooling lips, Fionadell lightly poked him with a twig. There was no more movement. The lesson was over. His patience at an end, the king had his beloved child dragged back to his side by his guards. Too long had he allowed her to play with the stranger at the lake. She was to stop this foolishness immediately and act more like the royal daughter he had raised her to be. But the power and opportunity the old man’s stories had stirred in her mind spurred her to action. She told her father that she was going away for a time. She needed to see what was beyond the woods. His rage taking hold, he banished her from the forest until she grew up and could accept her royal duties.

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HOOKS Ever on the search for his youngest brother, he hopes that traveling with different groups will give him the chance to find news of his location. His wayfarer attitude should make it easy to fit Harenhorn into your campaign. Here are a couple of examples: ♦ Harenhorn and his party arrive at the same inn the PCs are visiting. All of them are badly wounded, except Harenhorn. He asks the PCs for their aid in recovering two adventurers who had been captured by bandits. ♦ The PCs are short handed for a dungeon delving mission, they meet Harenhorn through a mutual acquaintance and hire him on.

HARENHORN Class/Level: Aristocrat 3 / Fighter 3 Sex/Race:  Male Human Height/Weight: 6’2", 195lbs. Challenge Rating:  5 Hit Points: 3d8+6+3d10+6 (22 hit points) Initiative: +4 (+4 Dex) Speed:  30 ft. Armor Class: 21 (+5 Chainmail, +2 Shield, +4 Dex) Attack: Bastard sword +7 Damage: Bastard sword 1d10+3 Alignment: Chaotic Good Saves: Fort +8, Ref +4, Will +6 Abilities: Str 15, Dex 18, Con 14, Int 17, Wis 10, Cha 15 Skills: Climb +6, Diplomacy +9, Gather Information +8, Handle Animal +7, Jump +8, Listen +9, Ride +8, Sense Motive +8, Spot +8, Swim +8, Wilderness Lore +8 Feats: Exotic Weapon Proficiency (Bastard Sword), Great Fortitude, Iron Will, Weapon Focus (Bastard Sword)

BACKGROUND Harenhorn is a young man living the life of a traveling adventurer. At least that is what he prefers to tell those who ask about him. On the surface, life couldn’t be better for this attractive swordsman with glinting green eyes and an easy smile. Harenhorn was born Prince Celon, third son of the King in a far off land. Life within the royal family was idyllic for decades and peace reigned over the countryside. The widowed king was generous with his family and his subjects. Prince Celon grew up learning the sword, intending to become a knight to fight in tourneys. As the third-born, he accepted that the throne was probably not in his future. On the eve of the Spring Garland Tourney held in honor of the king’s name day, hundreds of hopeful knights and their retinues feasted in the great hall with the royal family. As if the hand of death had reached up and snatched the dream away, Prince Celon watched as his beloved father and liege tumbled from his seat to the floor in the grip of a heart attack. The very next day, his eldest brother Lomar ascended to the throne and was crowned king. The dream was over and so began the horror, as Celon watched his siblings begin to die in their sleep of unknown causes. It was as if the family had had a curse laid upon them. His youngest brother, Jerene, was kidnapped from his bed and hadn’t been heard from since. King Lomar, always the strongest of the children, used his new power to rule over the family with an iron grip. Whispered rumors among the servants spoke of a poison the young king had obtained from traveling wizards that he was using to kill off his siblings.

He feared losing the power he had easily obtained that fateful day on the eve of the tourney. Prince Celon fled in the night with help from the head of the castle guard. With the little coin he was able to escape with, Celon traveled south with a group of performers and bards. Stories along the road spoke of armed men looking for an escaped prisoner from the castle. Having a hard time blending in with the talented ensemble, Celon left them in the middle of the night and found his way to a traveler’s inn. From that night on, realizing that he could no longer be known as one of the royal family, he began to call himself Harenhorn, a simple swordsman looking for work. Harenhorn is looking for word of his brother, who was spirited away from the castle by the servants. This is his main priority and driving goal. He is always on the lookout for news and rumors of a little boy with a birthmark on the right side of his neck. This birthmark is a telltale sign of his royal lineage. Harenhorn takes great pains to conceal the mark on his own neck with the use of scarves or cloaks. He has had scares in the past when groups he has traveled with have discovered his ancestry. Some less savory types have tried to capture and ransom him back to the kingdom, but with luck on his side, Harenhorn has been able to escape before being handed back to his eldest brother. No matter how hard he tries, Harenhorn is not a man of the common folk. He has a difficult time blending in with the lower classes and will use words with a more refined ring to them. This has proved to be his undoing on more than one occasion. Harenhorn tries to limit his speech to others and simply flash his winning smile to convey his feelings these days. He is very careful about his movements across the land and will go to great lengths to hide his whereabouts. He is looking for a band of adventurers to travel with and will offer his sword to aid their cause. He will not kill innocents or steal from the poor. Harenhorn will live up to his noble heritage while consistently burying deep his history.

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HOOKS Infernus is evil, powerful, and vicious, but he is a servant at heart. Should anything happen to his master, the nightmare will seek out a new one. Here are a few ways the PCs may encounter him: ♦ Infernus attacks a village while the PCs are visiting. He has a score to settle with the local magistrate, and is razing farms and vill ages across the countryside. ♦ The PCs might face Lord Urroth in open battle as emissaries of the King on a diplomatic mission. ♦ The PCs encounter Infernus as the nightmare flees a battle with the Morning Lord. Lord Urroth has fallen, and Infernus tries to escape.

INFERNUS Large Outsider (Evil) Hit Dice: 6d8+18 (45 hp) Initiative: +6 (+2 Dex, +4 Improved Initiative) Speed:  40 ft., fly 90 ft. (good) AC: 24 (-1 size, +2 Dex, +13_natural) Attacks: 2 hooves +9 melee, bite +4 melee Damage:  Hoof 1d8+4 and 1d4 fire, bite 1d8+2 Face/Reach: 5 ft. by 10 ft./5 ft. Special Attacks: Flaming hooves, smoke Special Qualities:  Astral projection, etherealness Saves: Fort +8, Ref +7, Will_+6 Abilities: Str 18, Dex 15, Con 16, Int 13, Wis 13, Cha 12 Skills: Intuit Direction +10, Listen +12, Move Silently +11, Search +10, Sense Motive +10, Spot +12 Feats: Alertness, Improved Initiative Challenge Rating:  5 Alignment: Neutral Evil

BACKGROUND The conflagration bursting upward over the hillocks sheltering the fields of wheat and corn stalks signaled the end of the tiny village of Grens Keep. Snorts of rage and thundering hooves heralded the death riding down upon the farmers. Called Infernus by the few who have survived its destruction, it has been said to be moving to the east and nearing the coast. Those pitiful few beings who claim to have seen the black steed with flaming mane destroy all in its path have been slowly going mad with the nightmares constantly plaguing every fitful sleep. Infernus was first seen as the death-breathing horse carrying the infamous swordsman Lord Urroth of the Blackguard. During his bloody campaigns, Lord Urroth could be found leading the charge to cut down the armies that had been massing against him. Fiery trails followed his steed as they swooped down over the heads of the soldiers. Infernus, with his massive head rearing back, shot bursts of flames across the front of the li ne, barely sparing a glance as the shields and leather armor burned away. Screams of the dead, dying, and fear-struck filled the air as the army was decimated beneath the might of the Blackguard. As the battle progressed, with victory close at hand Infernus vaguely perceived a sudden lurch in the saddle as they completed another swoop over the rapidly falling enemy. The reins fell loose about his thick muscular neck as Lord Urroth slumped sideways and slid off the saddle. Infernus shifted around and watched as his master fell the twenty feet to the ground, landing with a sickening thud. Gracefully the horse glided down to stand next to the heavily armored soldier who had for the last two years been

his master. Several arrows protruding from the chinks in his heavy scaled armor and blood pouring out of the ragged wound in his thigh, Lord Urroth moaned heavily. Infernus dipped his head lower and sniffed at the body, his nose almost nudging the soldier. With an abrupt movement, he reared up with a terrifying scream and came down upon his former master, a flaming hoof crushing the helmeted skull like a fragile egg. Wheeling about, Infernus returned to the remains of the battle, cutting a swath of destruction across the rapidly depleted army. As the Blackguard finished off the remaining enemy and looted the dead, a handful of hopeful yet foolhardy men attempted to rein in the Nightmare. Grabbing the reins would quickly be followed by combustion as a flame-filled snort would reduce most to charred ruins. Infernus left the victory field and took off into the sky, flames trailing his hooves. He was able to pry off the bridle and reins and subsequently burn off the saddle. Finally free of man’s confinements, he took to the wilderness, destroying entire forests and their denizens. If the forests’ inhabitants attempted escape from the flames licking at their backs, they were quickly attacked by the gigantic pitch-black horse with the fiery mane and tail that stood on the path before them. The Nightmare has come upon several villages during his trek east. Word of the approaching flaming death would occasionally forewarn the inhabitants, and many of the women and children gained valuable escape time while the men rallied a defense. Small groups of refugees were found every now and then telling stories of the flying horse that snorted fire and had blazing red eyes. More often than not, the town they had escaped from was destroyed along with the majority of the men folk. The trek east to the shores of the sea has been long and arduous, and even though Infernus seemed indestructible, he has suffered some injuries. Once or twice a lucky yet doomed villager has been able to hit the horse with a sword or arrow. While not life-threatening, the wounds have proven a slight hindrance, and have slowed down his attacks upon townships but not on unwary travelers along the roadways. Any who chance upon this being would be well advised to keep their distance and try to remain hidden. Infernus’ rage knows no bounds, and small groups of travelers are easy targets of his ire.

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HOOKS Necruss is an evil, conniving, morally bankrupt creature; he’s always hatching some evil notion. It should be very easy to incorporate him-and through him, his demonic masters-into your campaign. Here are a few ideas: ♦ Necruss is sent to spy on the PCs. They’re working for a local temple, and Kolegstra’th intends to interfere. ♦ Kolegstra’th orders Necruss to steal a magic item from one of the PCs. He sneaks into their rooms, one by one, as he searches for it. ♦ Necruss is secretly behind the rise of a beggar-cult in the PCs city. The imp is persuading a mad wizard to lead the cultists against the local temples.

NECRUSS Tiny Outsider (Evil, Lawful) Hit Dice: 3d8 (13 hp) Initiative: +6 (+2 Dex, +4 Improved Initiative) Speed:  20 ft., fly 50 ft. (perfect) AC: 18 (+2 Size, +3 Dex, +3_Natural) Attacks: Sting +8 melee Damage:  Sting 1d4 and Poison Face/Reach: 2 ½ ft. by 2 ½ ft./ 0 ft. Special Attacks:  Spell-like Abilities, Poison, Share Spells, Empathic Link Special Qualities:  Damage Reduction 5/Silver, SR 5, Poison Immunity, Fire Resistance 20, See in Darkness, Polymorph, Regeneration 2 Saves: Fort +3, Ref +6, Will+4 Abilities: Str 10, Dex 17, Con 10, Int 10, Wis 12, Cha 10 Skills: Hide +15, Listen +5, Move Silently +5, Search +5, Spell Craft +5, Spot +5 Feats: Dodge, Weapon Finesse (Sting) Challenge Rating:  4 Alignment: Lawful Evil

BACKGROUND The imp known as Necruss is highly cunning and devious but lacks a strong will. If confronted directly he will usually acquiesce and then bide his time until he finds a way to retaliate without fear of reprisal. Realizing he is not much of a facilitator, Necruss would be content to find a master who will allow him to express his disturbing impulses. The imp has a strong predilection for torture, not just as a way to get information, but mostly for deriving pleasure. Oddly, he himself has a low threshold for pain. He has spent most of his free time on the prime material plane kidnapping small folk (preferably young elves) and performing vile acts on them. Several constabularies and churches that are aware of these heinous crimes want him captured. To be in his presence is to feel uncomfortable, he’s got an aura of corruption around him, and does little to hide his hate or contempt for other living beings. He is not a fool to be taken lightly. Many have made the mistake of underestimating Necruss, and he always makes them pay. Usually in some conniving, or hateful way. He enjoys suffering, and his methods are rarely direct. He wants to enjoy himself, so he takes his time and savors his petty macinations. Necruss has always been a pitiful little imp. His existence in the Abyss began as a messenger to a minor demon lord. After a few centuries of meaningless (and painful) servitude, Necruss began to think his life was doomed to mediocrity and boredom. Until the call came-a young grey

elven prodigy from the royal house of Silvermane, who had been studying the summoning arts stumbled across the name Necruss in a minor demonology text. Unknown to her tutors, Maeg (short for Maegaliaserilis) decided to dabble in some extracurricular projects, and she summoned Necruss from the Abyss to serve as her familiar. At first Necruss rejoiced in his newfound good fortune. It soon became clear to him that Maeg was not going to be an easy mark for his infernal charms. Beside the fact she was an elf and naturally resistant to such magic, she also was exceptionally intelligent and willful. Within a few weeks, the discouraged imp resigned himself to a different kind of servitude. The most galling aspect of this elf was that she actually wanted to do Good. But Maeg had a major personality flaw: she was supremely confident in her ability to deal with infernal creatures. She felt that with her knowledge of demonology she could bind and dominate any infernal creature with enough preparation. She was tragically mistaken, as were so many would-be demonologists before her. Necruss’ new master began what she thought was a minor informational exchange with a lesser demon named Blekon. She (mistakenly) felt she had duped this unwitting fool of a creature to reveal infernal secrets to further her development as a demonologist. However, it was she who was being played. Blekon had another name, Kolegstra’th. Kolegstra’th was a tanari of great power, a balor. He began to communicate with Necruss, and the hopeful little imp, tempted by promises of influence and greater freedom, initiated the demon lord’s dire plan to roam the prime material plane unfettered. Necruss knew that if pushed, Maeg would attempt to summon Blekon into this plane. As her power and confidence grew, the scheming imp cunningly convinced his mortal master to bind the demon Blekon to her service. On that fateful night, Maeg prepared her summoning pentacle flawlessly, for a minor demon. When Kolegstra’th brutally ripped past her defenses, she knew she gazed upon her doom. Necruss cackled gleefully as the demon lord stripped the young elf of any vestiges of her mortal and moral shell. Kolegstra’th transformed Maeg into a succubus bound to him body and soul. As for Necruss, the demon lord was true to his word. The imp was given his freedom from servitude (at least for the time being). At present Necruss cavorts on the prime material plane, sowing mischief and ill will.

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HOOKS Riak’khon, the Great White Hunter, Totem-god of Goblins, wanders far and wide, searching for his lost master, and learning all he can. Here are a few ways to include him in your game: ♦ Riak’khon encounters the PCs deep in the ruins of the Lost City, as he searches for his master. He confronts them, hoping he might be able to make them help him discover his master’s whereabouts. ♦ The PCs encounter Riak’khon crossing the Great Savannah. He’s crossing the great grasslands, searching for his worshippers. ♦ Riak’khon tracks the PCs through an ancient ruin, and aids them when they’re attacked by a Manticore. He wants their help finding his master, and hopes to enlist their aid after saving their lives.

R IAK’KHON Large Magical Beast Hit Dice: 10d8+30 (77 hit points) Initiative: +7 (+3 Dex, +4 Improved Initiative) Speed:  50 ft. AC: 17 (-1 size, +3 Dex, +3 Natural) Attacks: 2 Claws +12 melee, Bite +7 melee Damage:  Claws 1d8+6, Bite 2d6+3 Face/Reach: 5 ft. by 10 ft./5 ft. Special Qualities:  Pounce, Improved Grab, Rake 1d8+3, Share Spells, Empathic Link, Scent, SR 10 Saves: Fort +8, Ref +7, Will +3 Abilities: Str 23, Dex 17, Con 17 Int 13, Wis 14, Cha 4 Skills: Balance +10, Hide +10, Listen +10, Move Silently +10, Spot +10 (or master’s skills) Feats: Improved Initiative Challenge Rating:  8 Alignment: Neutral Evil

BACKGROUND Riak’kohn was born a freak. His coat-stark white and coldmade him a pariah; the pride exiled him after a single season. Among the Tiger Clans, albinos are harbingers of a hungry season. Life in the Great Savannah is hard. And it was ten-times as hard for a clan less tiger. Riak’kohn was forced to fightdaily-just to survive. He was hunted by savage Orc tribes, harried by great eagles, and hounded by howling jackals. After a half dozen seasons, he was a savage predator-harder, stronger, and larger than any of his kind. When he defeated the Old Krenshar, he assumed the beast’s place as the totem-god of a Goblin tribe. The Goblins worshiped Riak’khon as the Great White Hunter and paid him tribute-with antelope, zebra, and other herd animals. In return, he protected their borders; he prowled the night like a vengeful spirit and killed anything that threatened his worshippers. They had a symbiotic relationship, and the lowly Gobin tribe gained prominence in the area because of the strength of their totem and the willingness he had to destroy their enemies. When a renegade Orc tribe finally attacked the Goblins in force, Riak’khon was sorely tested for the first time. Even with his loyal worshippers fighting fanatically by his side, the white tiger was mortally wounded before the last of the Orcs was defeated. As his people labored to destroy the few remaining Orc warriors, Riak’khon’s chief worshipper desperately tried to save his master. Miraculously, the Goblin shaman-a wizened, crooked creature with innate magic abilities-was able to save his master with a hearty sacrifice of the three strongest surviv-

ing Goblins. He bound their spirits to the tiger’s, using their soulstuff as fuel for potent healing magic. After a night of chanting ritual and spell casting, Riak’khon was saved. The healing changed him. He was stronger, faster, and more aware than he had even been in the past. The goblin souls bolstered his spirit; they awakened in him an intelligence far-greater than his primitive kin could ever imagined. This consciousness awoke a desire within him and with it, a thirst for knowledge, and driving need to better himself. He was more than a tiger. He was something else, something new and greater. Riak’khon contemplated leaving the tribe for a time, to seek out someone to teach him. But he was torn. He remained loyal to his worshippers, he knew how much they needed his strength and protection. But the decision was taken from him, when the great white tiger was caught in the grip of a wizard’s summoning spell. Loremaster Inelex was deep in the ruin of the Lost City when the white tiger answered his magical summons. Surrounded by a gang of Lamia, he deftly cast the summoning spell, seeking aid in combating the foul creatures, and Fate, it seems, was with him. Riak’khon destroyed the Lamia; he tore them apart with tooth and claw, his savage ferocity a thing of grim beauty. When the fight was finished, the great beast turned to confront the wizard who called him. He didn’t understand the strange compulsion that bound him to the man, or the means he had used to draw him away from his worshipers, but the beast’s eyes gleamed with intelligence nonetheless, and the wizard recognized it with intent fascination. He cast a tongues  spell, and the two spoke at great length, until finally, the wizard agreed to take Riak’khon as his Familiar, he bent the aspects of the spell with other, more potent magic, and bound the tiger to him on the spot. He recognized the creatures potential, and was sure he’d benefit from such a potent companion and ally. They became a formidable team. The Loremaster’s powerful spells were coupled with the white tiger’s savagery. They explored lost tombs, ancient dungeons, ruined cities, and the like with equal fervor, both thirsting for knowledge and power-until a freak accident sent them both plummeting through the planes, severing their bond. Now the two are separated, neither knows the others whereabouts, or even if they are alive.

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HOOKS Shae likes to join parties that have paladins or persons who are obviously on the side of good. But she helps any who need her strength and protection, she unfailingly serves those in need. Good PCs may find themselves graced by her healing touch, while evil PCs will feel the strength of her good right arm. Here are a few ways to include her in your game: ♦ Shae is called on to heal one of the PCs during a city riot. She offers to accompany them, and continue aiding the weak and wounded. ♦ Shae is assigned to the PCs as a guide through the city by temple officials. She’s a close-mouthed guide, but knowledgeable; she’ll get the PCs where they need to be. ♦ Shae offers to help the PCs investigate the murder of a local church official. She won’t take no for an answer.

SHAE Class/Level: Cleric 2 Sex/Race:  Female Human Height/Weight: 5’2", 105lbs. Challenge Rating:  2 Hit Points: 2d8 (12 hit points) Initiative: +0 Speed:  30 ft. Armor Class: 15 (+5 Chainmail) Attack: Cudgel +1 melee Damage: Cudgel 1d8 Alignment: Chaotic Good Saves: Fort +3, Ref +0, Will +4 Abilities: Str 10, Dex 10, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 13, Cha 14 Skills: Concentration +4, Diplomacy +3, Heal +8, Knowledge (religion) +4 Feats: Combat Casting, Skill Focus (Heal) Spells: (0) detect magic, guidance, light, resistance; (1st) bless, endure elements, magic weapon, sanctuary

BACKGROUND Shae was born to a poor family in the western plains during the Plague of Black Harvests. The land was still and dead for months on end as the plague ran its course through the many townships in its path. Dozens of farms and animals perished under its terrible swath of death. Few children were born during this period, and nerve-wracked citizens whispered of some vengeful god having his touch upon their humble land. The time of plagues passed and the harvest returned to the farmers. Shae was the last child born to her parents and as such was cherished. She lived a typical life in the farming village of Norvol. Her older siblings went on to work on the farm and apprentice with various tradesmen in town. Her father made arrangements for the young teen to marry a local farmer on the outskirts of the village. As was traditional, young Shae went willingly into the marriage and life was peaceful for her the first two years with her new husband. Things changed when she gave birth to their first child, a girl. Her husband wanted a boy to help work on the farm. The infant died mysteriously during the night. For many weeks grief held grip over the homestead until Shae became pregnant again. Her husband rejoiced that he would finally get his heir. Months later, her second girl child died suddenly during the night. The sadness was not so apparent on her husband’s face this time, and suspicion reeled in the young wife’s mind. A year later and another daughter was born and survived for yet a few weeks before the seemingly cursed household saw another small grave dug near the

garden. Neighbors whispered about the deaths and the young mother who seemed to withdraw more into herself with each passing year and each passing child. Then one evening when the husband returned from the fields, the home was empty. Shae disappeared during the day and was not seen in the village again. Time passed and questions concerning her leaving finally dwindled, and the man remarried. Shae had escaped to the town of Cinderalt and sought refuge in the local temple. Here she began to receive training as a cleric. The clerics took in the frightened young woman after hearing her story of the deaths of her children. They prayed for her to find the strength to avenge her losses. With the priests, Shae learned to temper her anger and fear and then channel it into power. The once vivacious woman became quieter and more sedate as prayers and training wove their way into her life. Buried at the bottom of her soul dwelled the subtle twinges for revenge upon the one who had hurt her and her children. Shae left the temple after several years of study and devotion. Her focus on her past was obvious as she traveled silently back to her old life. She found sadly that the tiny graves near the old garden had been increased by two. The little mounds of earth were a sad legacy to the past and a glaring crime of the present. She faded into the hills and searched for her prey. He would be working the fields this time of day and should be alone. She confronted her husband, and used her newfound power to dispatch him when the he admitted the horrible truth and turned on her. Shae felt the weight lift from her heart as his soul left his body. Making a sign over his body she gave thanks to her god for his strength. She disappeared into the hills after her vengeance was sated and let her feet carry her to parts unknown. She had no path to follow or goal to reach. Shae has never spoken to others of her past. All who meet her find a soft-spoken woman with a shadowed gaze watching passively. She will aid other travelers on the road in exchange for protection and food.

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HOOKS Stone/Nebbish has since served masters of all types: mages, priests, warriors, bards, and rogues, but all of them female. It seems he is always looking for the companionship that a caring woman brings him that will continue to fill the emotional void in his heart. Here are a few ways he might meet the party: ♦ Stone takes a fancy to one of the female PCs and offers to serve her for nothing more than her company. A difficult offer to refuse from so powerful a creature. ♦ Stone meets the party on the ethereal plane, and helps them escape an ethereal filcher. He offers to escort them safely to the prime material plane. ♦ Stone notices the PCs are in trouble while perching on a nearby rooftop. He comes to their aid, swooping out of the sky like a guardian angel.

S TONE Large Construct Hit Dice: 21d10(105 hp) Initiative: +1 (+1 Dex) Speed:  20 ft (cant run), fly 25 ft (average) AC: 28 (-1 size, +1 Dex, +18 natural) Attacks: 2 claws +25 melee, Bite +23 melee, gore +23 melee Damage:  Claw 2d10+9, Bite 1d8+9, gore 1d8+9 Face/Reach: 5 ft. by 5 ft./10 ft. Special Attacks: Slow Special Qualities: Construct, Magic Immunity, Damage Reduction 30/+2, Freeze Saves: Fort +4, Ref +5, Will +8 Abilities: Str 29, Dex 13, Con —, Int 20, Wis 18, Cha 11 Skills: Alchemy +14, Appraise +15, Bluff +12, Concentration +16, Craft (Bookbinding) +15, Diplomacy +10, Forgery +10, Gather Info +6, Knowledge (Arcana) +28, Knowledge (Planes) +20, Listen +8, Move Silently +13, Scry +28, Search +14, Sense Motive +15, Speak Language (Abyssal, Common, Draconic, Dwarven, Elven, Giant, Infernal, Orc), Spellcraft +28, Spot +11. Feats: Multiattack Challenge Rating:  14 Alignment: Neutral Good

BACKGROUND The construct known as Stone is far more than it appears. It looks remarkably like a gargoyle, winged and stony. What lies beneath the coarse rock, however, is most astonishing. Stone’s story begins 850 years ago in the mind of an accomplished mage named Nebbish the Shrewd. Nebbish had seen well over a hundred winters and was alive only in part due to many magical elixirs that pushed back the inexorable effects of time on his wizened and fragile mortal shell. In spite of all this, his mind remained sharp and hungry for knowledge. Nebbish knew it was only inevitable that his battle with death had to end with him on the losing end. It was while studying a tome on lichdom that he stumbled upon an answer. A phylactery could hold his life essence after his body perished. The only problem was that he did not desire to become something of monumental evil as an undead lich. Pure chance helped steer him in an entirely new direction. During an ethereal jaunt, looking for unexplored caverns in a local mountain range, Nebbish stumbled across his solution: a perfect gem surrounded by some of the toughest stone known to sages, granite. It became clear to

the mage that this is how he would cheat death. He would transfer his life essence into a stone golem. His health failing, Nebbish went to work quickly on his future body. The eerie-looking gargoyles that perched upon the walls of a local cathedral he had lived near when he was a child had always fascinated him. They had not only a sort of silent grace but also a formidable presence. All Nebbish’s training as a wizard came into play as he extracted the large hunk of rock from the side of the mountain. He then performed all the necessary rituals for the creation of a golem with a slight modification, the insertion of his consciousness into the construct. The ritual was successful. Nebbish was now a stone golem with the additional power to fly. The feelings that went through him could only be described as euphoric, not to be trapped in a frail mortal form anymore, his limbs surging with vigor. For many years Stone/Nebbish was happy in his new form, traveling to strange and distant lands, learning of new wonders. But certain things began to bother him. He could no longer practice magic and its intricacies with his huge and bulky hands. He also realized there were few human settlements that would tolerate his appearance. Lastly and worst of all, he had no human sensations, at least not normal human sensations. He could see and hear, but he could not feel the sensation of touch, and it nearly drove him mad. Stone became melancholy for a time, until he met Lady Amara. Amara was a minor noble from the southern kingdoms who went against all conventions to become a priestess of an ascetic goddess. Stone had fallen into the habit of masquerading as a gargoyle on various buildings to watch and covet the simple lives of people as they went about their daily routines. It was at Amara’s temple where Stone fell in love. He watched her from afar, looking after her concerns, secretly keeping her safe. It took more than a year to approach her, but he finally mustered the courage to meet Amara. At first the priestess was taken aback and nearly shunned Stone completely, but she eventually began to appreciate the shining soul beneath the stony exterior. Stone was truly alive again. He found that as her companion he could fulfill himself in a new way. He served her faithfully until the day she passed away of old age. Now he moves from master to master, always serving the side of good.

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HOOKS Syrna seeks power, and will do anything to get it. She’ll use the PCs if she can, and even join them if she must. Here are a few easy ways to include her in your game: ♦ Players are sought out by an NPC mage to retrieve an arcane tome from an abandoned library on the edge of the wastes. The party travels unknowingly into the lair of Syrna who is looking to start her own undead army. ♦ A PC necromancer is looking for a unique creature to become his or her familiar. Either she hears about Syrna from a traveling bard or discovers her story in the frenetic writings of a mad necromancer named Sahar Mahaadi. He or she decides to track down and bind Syrna to her will. ♦ Communication from a small village on the outskirts of the kingdom is lost. This village just happens to be the birthplace of one of the PC’s in the party and is where most of his family lives. The party must go investigate and Syrna is waiting for them.

S YRNA  Small Animal (Undead) Hit Dice: 4d12 (26 hp) Initiative: +3 (Dex) Speed:  20 ft., swim 20 ft. AC: 17 (+1 size, +3 Dex, +3 Natural) Attacks: Bite +4 melee Damage:  Bite 1d4-2 and Poison Face/Reach: 5 ft. by 5 ft. (coiled)/5 ft. Special Attacks: Petrification Gaze, Poison: Fortitude save (DC 11); initial and secondary damage 1d6 temporary Constitution. Special Qualities:  Undead, +2 Turn Resistance, Damage Reduction 10/Silver, Cold and Electricity resistance 10, Scent, Petrification Immunity Saves: Fort +4, Ref +7, Will +4 Abilities: Str 6, Dex 17, Con 11, Int 2, Wis 13, Cha 9 Skills: Balance +11, Climb +12, Hide +15, Listen +9, Spot +9 Feats: Alertness, Dodge, Weapon Finesse (bite) Challenge Rating: 5

BACKGROUND The viper known as Syrna has an origin similar to most wizards’ familiars. Her life truly began with a ceremonial summoning from a mage by the name of Eloc’narr. It was during that one balmy summer evening that her consciousness awoke to a purpose. At the moment of her summoning Syrna began to desire power. As she gained awareness and newfound abilities as a familiar, Syrna was driven to become more than she was before. Syrna’s master was a gifted mage, forever poring through ancient texts and arcane manuscripts. This frustrated the awakened serpent, for she yearned to be independent and pursue a life unbound by the ritual that had linked her to this wizard. This desire created a terrible conflict within Syrna, as her soul was coupled to this man’s. She knew if anything untold happened to Eloc’narr, her life would likely end. She was not ungrateful to him for unlocking her consciousness and did not pursue the calling in her heart for freedom. She preformed her duties to the best of her abilities, and was a dutiful companion to the wizened wizard. Many years passed, and Eloc’narr had established a manse and library on the eastern edge of a prosperous kingdom, confident in his reputation as a gifted spellcaster to defend him against unwanted harassments. At least in one case, this display of wealth and independence was taken as a challenge. Eloc’narr was encroaching on another

spellcaster’s domain, though he was unaware of it, and would remain so until it was too late. A necromancer by the name of Sahar Mahaadi heard of Eloc’narr’s manse (and the man’s growing mystical abilities) and decided that the wizard was a threat that needed addressing. Sahar was trying to establish himself as the preeminent spellcaster in the region, and Eloc’narr was becoming a thorn in his side. He was friendly with Sahar’s rivals, and the Necromancer didn’t need any more ememies. The Necromancer used stealthy magics and sly agents to analyze Eloc’narr’s defenses. He gathered information about the wizard, and planned an offensive strike that would get rid of this new rival with none the wiser. In the middle of winter, Sahar made his way to Eloc’narr’s stronghold with a small but potent contingent of undead soldiers of his own manufacture. In his hubris, Eloc’narr had become lax in the upkeep of his magical defenses, and he was unprepared for the brutal efficiency of Sahar’s undead minions. They decimated Eloc’narr’s meager contingent of guardians in a single night and caught the wizard himself unaware in his sleeping chambers. They destroyed the mage with the same swift, brutal efficiency they used against his guardians. Eloc’narr never had a chance. He died without ever knowing why he’s been attacked, or who was responsible for it. In one last act of defiance, Syrna attacked the necromancer, but Sahar was immune to the snake’s poison. Sahar murdered her master and left her to his minions. In her near decade of awareness, Syrna had nurtured an all-consuming desire to become an independent entity. This craving rooted her spirit to this plane as an unfulfilled soul wanting expression. The necromancer, having certain sensitivity to these things, contacted Syrna’s spirit. Impressed by the intensity of the snake’s will, he decided to create a new form of undead by bringing Syrna’s soul back to her now skeletal body. The resultant undead being that arose from Sahar’s foul experiments was an amalgamation of all Syrna had been and many new undead abilities and she revels in this, exploring the limits of her newfound freedom and abilities as often as she can. Syrna now wanders the wastes with her own agenda and the power to carry out her desires. It seems the necromancer released her from his subjugation out of respect for her wishes to be free, but now another dark need drives her.

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HOOKS Terean is young, brash, and excited, but he has the talent to prosper as an adventurer if he can settle down and get some experience under his belt. He’s an able companion, and willingly works for older, wiser parties when he can. Here are a few ways for him to meet the party: ♦ The PCs are looking for a wizard to help them decipher a rune-covered map. They hire Terean as a translator and guide. ♦ Terean hires the PCs to escort him from Old Town to the Hall of Magic. He crossed a local lord who wants his blood. ♦ The PCs are hired to stop a local pirate from capturing a ship containing medical supplies. They hire Terean to aid magically support to their arsenal.

 TEREAN Class/Level: Wizard 3 Sex/Race:  Male Human Height/Weight: 5’10", 175lbs. Challenge Rating:  3 Hit Points: 3d4+6 (14 hit points) Initiative: +2 (+2 Dex) Speed:  30 ft. Armor Class: 12 ( +2 Dex) Attack: Dagger +1 Damage: Dagger 1d4 Alignment: Chaotic Good Saves: Fort +1, Ref +2, Will +3 Abilities: Str 11, Dex 13, Con 10, Int 15, Wis 11, Cha 16 Skills: Concentration +7, Diplomacy +5, Heal +3, Knowledge (Necromancy) +9, Spellcraft +9 Feats: Dodge, Improved Initiative, Maximize Spell Spells: (0) Flare (x2), Detect Magic, Read Magic; (1st)  Magic  Missile, Burni ng Hands; (2nd) Web

BACKGROUND The youngster known as Terean grew up within a family of merchants. Silk and fine fabrics were the family’s primary trade, earning them great renown across the lands for the quality of their wares. It was expected that the children of the family would join the business in some way as they grew to the age of responsibility. Alas, the gods had other plans for young Terean. Upon reaching his sixth year, odd things began happening to the boy. Visions and apparitions would appear to only his sight at the oddest times. Frightened by the visions, young Terean feared he was going as mad as Crazy Lill who lived at the end of the road. As he grew older, he began to realize that the visions were not harmful but would at times give warning of dangerous events. Terean, compelled by his secret, sought out the town’s mystic for answers. A long afternoon of relating what he had seen over the years persuaded the old man to pronounce that the boy was gifted with innate abilities in the arcane arts. Stunned, young Terean digested this new revelation that would inevitably change his life i n more ways than he had ever thought imaginable. Gone was the goal of becoming a silk tradesman like his father before him. He imagined a world of adventure like his cousin Berh, who was off traveling in some wild land where women wore gold and castles beckoned to be pillaged for riches, or so his older brother boasted. The old town mystic directed the boy to the to seek a teacher who could train him in the arts. Terean met with

Silent Gert, a master illusionist from the Hall of Magic. Silent Gert was not mute, but spoke rarely enough to earn her nickname. Content she was to spin and create her magic without words to disturb her concentration. Recognizing the talent the boy radiated as he entered the magical building, Gert immediately made the decision to take him on as an apprentice. It took all he had in persuasion to convince his family that the life of a tradesman was not in his future. At first they recoiled at the idea of their youngest child not following in their footsteps, but gradually they accepted the path he was destined to walk. So began young Terean’s apprenticeship, he astounded even the most stoic wizards with his dedicated desire to master the mystic arts. Years passed, and his abilities surpassed most others of his age. In his twentieth year, Terean, now a young man and having amassed skills most in the hall were envious of, was sent leagues away to another hall. Many days’ travel away in the Valley of Whispers, the town of Mor-at hosted the Hall of Magic. Terean studied at that hall for five years, learning how to focus his arts and mold from nothing a tangible object. He impressed his teachers with a quick wit and a hearty desire to learn. Shortly after his twenty-fifth birthday, Terean visited his childhood home for a yearly gathering. His adventuring older cousin Berh was also on hand for the celebration and reunions. With his cousin came tales of travels far and wide involving rescuing fair maidens and slaying mighty beasts. It was as if he were a boy of six yet again as he listened with apt attention to the stories woven by his exciting cousin; the adventures called to him. Noticing the glint in Terean’s eyes, Berh naturally over inflated his stories, enticing the young man to consider a new life. Over many mugs of ale, the two men spoke of traveling together and the adventures to be had. At the end of the weeklong family celebration, Terean was soundly convinced that the li fe of adventure was for him, and after making numerous promises to his teachers to return in a few years to continue his training, Terean went off with his cousin to seek fortune and adventure. Now he can be found traveling with mercenaries, adventurers, minstrels, and the like, seeking fame and fortune and chasing tales of treasure and excitement.

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HOOKS Whisperwing is unusually intelligent for his kind, perhaps due to the lingering effects of his bond with  Jarsters. He is clever, and capable of following detailed plans to their fruition, and would serve very well as a spellcaster’s familiar. Here are a few examples: ♦ A PC wizard or sorcerer seeking a familiar in the vicinity of the Great Forest is blessed, when Whisperwing answers the summons. ♦ The PCs encounter Whisperwing while defending a grove of Trents from a marauding Orc tribe. ♦ Whisperwing swoops and dives around the PCs, herding them toward an injured unicorn with hopes they can aid the magnificent creature.

WHISPERWING Small Magical Beast Hit Dice: 1d8 (1/2 master’s hp) Initiative: +7 (+3 Dex, +4 Improved Initiative) Speed:  10 ft., fly 40 ft. (average) AC: 17 (+1 size, +3 Dex, +3 Natural) Attacks: 2 Claws +5 melee Damage:  Claws 1d4-2 Face/Reach: 2 ½ ft. by 2 ½ ft./ 0 ft. Special Qualities:  Low-light Vision, grant +2 Move Silently, grant Alertness, I mproved Evasion, Share Spells, Empathic Link Saves: Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +4 Abilities: Str 6, Dex 17, Con 10 Int 6, Wis 14, Cha 4 Skills: Listen +14, Move Silently +20, Spot +6 (+8 on Spot checks in dusk and darkness) (or master’s skills) Feats: Alertness, Improved Initiative, Weapon Finesse (Claws) Challenge Rating:  3 Alignment: Neutral Good

BACKGROUND “Whisperwing, here!” was a familiar call to those who knew the druid Jarsters, as he would hold out his leather-wrapped forearm and the owl would land upon it. Serenely looking about his surroundings and lightly bobbing his head at his master, Whisperwing was the animal companion of the wise druid known for his adventuring skills. Jarsters traveled far and wide with groups that had a yearning for riches and glory, with his faithful owl along for the ride. Whisperwing traveled with Jarsters for three years, assisting him with scouting and protection. The two worked so amiably together that is was rare to see them apart. They seemed to have the same thought patterns and intuitions.  Jarsters was seen many a time seemingly whispering into the ear of his companion, its head bobbing as if understanding completely. For all his eccentricities, Jarsters was a wise druid, perfectly in tune with nature and its denizens of the wild. Whisperwing was faithful and true in his companionship to the old man in their many travels. Other animal companions came and went, but Whisperwing was a permanent fixture in the man’s life, proving his loyalty and value time and again. Occasionally parties traveling with the pair would keep tally and place bets to see how many times the owl would forewarn them of impending danger. Jarsters would smile and bob his head slightly at the owl’s work for the group. A year ago, Whisperwing accompanied his master and a party of adventurers along a series of paths that would

ultimately lead them to an old run-down keep. Whisperwing was sent ahead to scout the area for possible dangers. Flying high above the trees surrounding the crumbling brick and plaster walls that somehow still supported half a roof, the owl searched for any kind of movement. Aside from the occasional rat or squirrel, the area seemed deserted. A foul odor did seep upward from a large dark crack in the barely visible floorboard. Arriving back to  Jarsters, the owl landed silently but for a flap of wing in the wind. The old druid smiled and nodded to the bird as it let out a squawk. There was something evil living in the keep, possibly protecting the ancient tomes of power rumored to have been buried there. The party decided that this was a perfect opportunity to prove their worth to the neighboring duke who had sent them on this quest: retrieve the tomes and collect the bounty. The thrill of battle coursing through their veins, Whisperwing watched dispassionately as the troupe ventured down into the darkness. He sat upon the crumbling wall and waited for the return of his master. The sounds of the group’s screams and the clash of metal reverberated upward through the crack in the floorboards. A drider was sweeping through the party, destroying and feasting upon all who fell at his feet. Whisperwing waited patiently for  Jarsters to emerge from the pit. A week later, the owl flapped away into the wilderness, its servitude to Jarsters abruptly concluded. Like many animal companions, Whisperwing is unfailingly loyal provided his master does not give him reason to distrust. Whisperwing is able to see extremely well in darkness and is excellent for reconnaissance. His last master was able to speak to and understand the animal, which frequently would amuse other party members. Many jokes would be made of Jarsters’ affinity for the mannerisms of the owl. Whisperwing has been living in the Great Forest since the departure of his old master. He will come willingly to a new summoner if called. He will join any type of master who summons him as long as he is not abused or forced to act against his nature. He is well suited for traveling groups that need a scout who can remain silent and swift and en joys the company of humans as well as elves and other woodland folk. Whisperwing tends to remain close to the Great Forest, though he’s free to travel where he will. Something about the place is comforting to the beautiful bird, and he feels a kinship with the mighty place, emotions perhaps, left from his bond with Jarsters.

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HOOKS Wildwind is the protector of Red Bane Ridge, but he will serve a master if there is need. Wildwind is a noble, heroic creature, and would make a find mount for a paladin, cleric, or ranger. Here are a few ways to incorporate him into your game: ♦ The PCs help Wildwind defend the village against a hostile Fire Giant come down from the mountains. ♦ The PCs recruit Wildwind to help them find a particular peak on the Red Bane Ridge. With his ability to fly, the could search in places they otherwise could not reach. ♦ Wildwind enlists the PCs aid as he searches the countryside, looking for a pair of lost children. The kids have been missing from the village for two days, they were captures by centaurs crossing the valley.

WILDWIND Large Magical Beast Hit Dice: 4d10+12 (34 hp) Initiative: +2 (Dex) Speed:  60 ft., fly 120 ft. (average) AC: 14 (-1 size, +2 Dex, +3 natural) Attacks: 2 hooves +7 melee, bite +2 melee Damage:  Hoof 1d6+4, bite 1d3+2 Face/Reach: 5 ft. by 10 ft./5 ft. Special Qualities:  Scent, Spell-like abilities Saves: Fort +7, Ref +6, Will +4 Abilities: Str 18, Dex 15, Con 16, Int 10, Wis 13, Cha 13 Skills: Listen +12, Sense Motive +7, Spot +12, Wilderness Lore +3 Feats: Iron Will Challenge Rating:  3 Treasure:  None Alignment: Chaotic good

BACKGROUND Stories of a winged horse began filtering down from the mountain villages in late winter during the month of Pines. The elders of the valley whispered tales of the white-winged horse that would glide down from the heavens. Children vainly watched the skies searching for the wild animal of legend said to have visited their village in the days of yore. Arriving never when expected, Wildwind, head of the Pegasi herd living in the Red Bane Ridge, would portend good luck to the children born that year, at least according to the town mystics. Wildwind is twenty years old and sired ten foals with his mate, Surefoot. But the coughing sickness took Surefoot suddenly, leaving Wildwind to lead the herd alone. Normally even-tempered, the death spun Wildwind into a deep depression as the grieving process took over. While he neglected his leadership of the herd, younger, more brazen Pegasi pushed Wildwind out. It was then that he took to exploring the land around the Red Bane Ridge. The Red Bane Ridge covers many leagues and several villages dot the landscape in the valleys. Rumors about the herd were told in various villages over the years, and tales from travelers spoke of the great winged horses that had been seen flying over faraway lands. Wildwind’s first verified appearance was in the spring during the month of Petals. A trio of young girls gathering flowers for the family household watched spellbound as the winged horse landed gracefully a few feet from a stream. Seeming to ignore the stares of the children, Wildwind drank from the stream, allowing the icy waters to quench his thirst. Ears perked and watching them from the corner of his eye, the former

herd leader allowed his young audience to watch him. He had been aware for some time that the local two-legged inhabitants appeared to react with either great joy or spellbinding fear at his so-called appearances. This was the first time he had been on the ground and so near to the strangers, however. Prior sightings were from the air and were compounded by varying degrees of incredulousness or disbelief. The children were awestruck, with their eyes wide and tiny mouths working into large grins. The oldest of the three gathered up her courage and stepped closer to Wildwind, holding out her handful of flowers. Folding his wings in close to his body, the great beast turned and looked down upon the child who walked toward him, albeit timidly. Her two companions stood back and watched as the large head of the proud animal tilted down and gently nuzzled her hand before taking the flowers. Chewing the tasty flowers, Wildwind watched the girls as they giggled, and all three now thrust more handfuls of flowers up at him. Shaking his long white mane, he pawed the earth and took the additional snacks. So began the visits of Wildwind, at fi rst to the children of the village and finally to others. He never allowed a bridle to be placed upon his head but occasionally would permit a rider. The villagers never knew where he came from but always welcomed his semi frequent visits. For his part, Wildwind began to think of the villagers as his second family. There came a time when it was not unusual to spy the handsome animal standing on a ridge overlooking the village, eyes and ears alert for any danger. Several occasions found Wildwind alerting the two-legged beasts of an approaching danger. The villagers called him Protector, while the children secretly named him Flower-Eater. Many a traveler remarked on the appearance of the great winged animal that stood so alertly upon the rocky peaks. Some wayward moneymakers would whisper about the riches to be gained at harnessing and taming such a beast. The villagers vehemently dissuaded these ideas, sometimes to the point of forcing the troublemakers from the town. Once a year, Wildwind returns to his ancestral home high up in the rocky peaks above the valley of the twolegs. He visits the place where his mate died. Spending a week in mourning, he will not eat and only his now-grown children can elicit any response from him. He returns to the village ridges appearing gaunt and wearied, and the townspeople worry about his health. But the weeks pass and his attention once again turns to the surrounding countryside, as he looks for any sign of danger.

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