AUTHOR'S NOTES AND CREDITS: All priest spheres and granted powers are as per official entries in "From the Ashes," TSR's 2nd Edition revision of the World of Greyhawk. Likewise, major events noted in Dorian's personal history and magic item descriptions also spring from official sources in "The World of Greyhawk," "From the Ashes," and WGR4, "The Marklands," though many details and embellishments have been added which are consistent with the official chronicles. Literature has also been used as a source, a practice I highly recommend. Sasoon Siegfried's poem is adapted from a similar work by the real WW1 poet Siegfried Sasoon, and the "unnamed bard" referred to in the text is in fact Matthew Arnold, an Englishman who died in 1888. His poem is called "Dover Beach," though it is probably better known as the poem which Guy Montag reads to his wife's friends in Ray Bradbury's masterpiece "Fahrenheit 451." All other names, works, and entries are my own. While entries in this file are all derived from Greyhawk sources, adaptation of Dorian and his items should not be difficult for DMs who use other worlds. The adventure described at the end of Dorian's personal history reflects his role as a pre-generated character for an adventure that I'm working on called "Curythwyln's Citadel," but DMs are free to alter this, or any other portion, in order to suit their own campaign and staging needs. Enjoy, and please don't hesitate to write and tell me what you think (74247,3033). Viva Greyhawk Libre! --Thalion Envinyatar, Greyhawk Exchange Project Part 1 = Personal History Part 2 = Statistics and Magic ***********[ DORIAN BEAUCHAMP: PERSONAL HISTORY ]************* Nestled against the southern tip of the Gamboge Forest, the town of Arndulanth has traditionally been a thriving community, trading with the woodsmen of the forest and the demi-human mines in the nearby hills in an arrangement that brought prosperity to all. Your father was an officer in the Royal Army of Nyrond and a devout worshipper of Heironeous. You were his oldest son, and he strove mightily to ensure that you would follow in his faith and his footsteps. A diligent student, your natural talents served you well, and soon you had succeeded beyond even your father's ambitions. Accepted into the temple's special training programs in CY 569, you graduated in Fireseek (March) of 573 a Paladin of the Order of the Copper Axe. Unlike your father, however, you chose a life of active service through adventure, drawing companions to you and forming the Lightbrothers Adventuring Company. The early years were difficult, and several companions fell to the perils and hazards which accompany the adventuring life. Nevertheless, by CY 581 the group numbered fully 10 members, including a cadre of good friends with many years of service: Daumond the Invoker, a quiet man but dreadful in anger; his close friend Sasoon the Bard, always ready with tales of heroism and words to lift the spirit; and the brothers Max and Milon Maladar, devout priests of Heironeous and iron-fisted foes of evil. Well-known to the rulers of the Shield Lands for your dependability and daring, the Company found no shortage of patrons among the border lords. In Wealsun (June) of the year 582, however, the Lightbrothers terminated their activities in the Shield Lands and headed back east to Arndulanth. Sasoon's amazing network of bards, travelers, and informants had always been one of the Company's most valuable assets, and this time was no exception. The news was shocking: Tenh had fallen to the barbarian hordes from Stonefist! Opportunities for adventure now beckoned closer to home. As the company prepared to set out from Arndulanth in the Spring of CY 583, however, ominous news began to arrive from every quarter: to the west, the forces of Iuz had overrun The Horned Society and attacked the Shield Lands, and a general war was now in progress. At home, meanwhile, rumours were flying regarding a mobilization for the reconquest of Tenh. To the south, Lord Kevaunt of the Prelacy of Almor had begun military preparations of his own, fearing a wider eastern war once Nyrond was preoccupied. The Company took counsel, and reached the conclusion that the fears of Kevaunt were probably justified- a wider war was indeed in the offing. While Sasoon headed west to Niole Dra in order to confer with friends, the Company elected to remain in Arndulanth, using its wealth and reputation to rally friends and townsfolk for king and country. Hard-won treasures went to pay for training and equipment, and behind this well-drilled force would stand the formidable prowess of the Lightbrothers. By the time Lord General Basmajenn arrived in town with the Royal Army of Nyrond, therefore, all was in readiness. Surely you would march forth and strike a mighty blow for light ere all was done. Here, however, your foresight had failed. Though no stranger to battle, nothing could have prepared you for what lay ahead. Instead of a ride to victory and glory, the spring of CY 584 marked the beginning of a nightmare, as the great armies of Aerdy and Nyrond clashed in appalling scenes of carnage and destruction. Again and again, waves of fiend-driven Aerdy soldiers threw themselves against the Nyrondese, held back only by a thin wall of flesh and steel. The Lightbrothers and their Arndulanther brigade fought well and valiantly, but all too often you found yourselves ordered into foolish counter-attacks by Royal General Basmajenn and his staff, or forced to hold at all costs in poor locations. Tired and overstretched by such exertions, the now reduced "Lions of Light" Brigade nevertheless found itself ordered onward into the Nyrondese counter-offensive against the "lightly manned" Aerdy entrenchments at Flessern Fields. The engagement was a disaster. Out of an initial strength of 40,000, the Fifth Army suffered approximately 8,000 casualties in just two days; losses in your own brigade reached an appalling 50%. Beset by fiends and pinned down by hostile spell-casters, with several Lightbrothers already slain, all seemed lost. Only the Maladars' self-sacrificing heroism averted the brigade's complete destruction; for their bravery and a general's incompetence, Max and Milon were torn apart by fiends before your very eyes. Grieving, you shouted orders and somehow extracted your command. For his part in the debacle, General Basmajenn was summoned before King Archibold himself; as punishment, he was promoted to Field Marshal. For Sasoon the bard, his was the last straw. His paeans to heroism and glory were silenced, his merry quips ashes in his mouth. A well-worn scroll carried in a tube at your belt contains one of the bard's final compositions, written during the grueling retreat from the Flessern: "Good morning; good morning!" the General said When we met him last week on the way to the line. Now the soldiers he smiled at are most of 'em dead, And we're cursing his staff for incompetent swine. "He's a cheery old card," grunted Milon to Max As they slogged toward the river with weapons and pack. * * * But he did for them both with his plan of attack. - Sasoon Siegfried, CY 584 Battered and reeling, the Nyrondese Fifth Army withdrew toward Innspa, where Field General Younard had wisely prepared extensive trench defenses and magical traps. Within a week of your arrival, however, a second Aerdy army materialized from the Adri Forest and the city found itself besieged from two sides. With Basmajenn injured and the front crumbling, General Younard desperately shouldered aside the Royal Marshal's hand-picked subordinate and assumed overall command. His moves were decisive, and successful. In some of the bloodiest and most intense fighting of the war, two Aerdy armies were broken on the field of battle. The defense had held. In the wake of this triumph, however, disaster struck. Once the arrogant and inflexible Royal Marshal recovered from his wounds, he promptly made his own moves. Enraged by Younard's unauthorized actions (and perhaps by his comparative success as well), he promptly had the Field General arrested for insubordination. The case was quickly brought before King Archibold, where many spoke in Younard's defense, yourself prominent among them. Pressed to decide between the two men, the king opted instead for a "compromise": while he refused to punish the stalwart Younard, he would nonetheless stand behind his Royal Marshal. A commendation for the victory was awarded to Basmajenn, as was direct command of the entire Eastern Front. It was a terrible injustice, but Younard is an extremely lawful and obedient man. He accepted the decision, swallowed his pride, and publicly apologized to Basmajenn. Then he resigned himself to a trivial and subservient role for the remainder of the war. Morale dropped sharply after that, but Emperor Ivid's madness in the wake of the defeat at Innspa convulsed the Great Kingdom and soon brought the Nyrondese a welcome respite. Oblivious to the cynicism and distrust of his troops and sub-commanders, however, the Royal Marshal resolved to undertake a glorious offensive campaign against the armies of the Great Kingdom. Unwilling to wait for the disintegration of the Empire, Basmajenn laid his plans swiftly. In Wealsun (June) of 584, he began his "Almoran Liberation Campaign." Disorganized and unsettled by their kingdom's disintegration, the Aerdy initially fought poorly, offering little effective resistance. Then the Nyrondese ran into Animus-General Szeffrin. Backed by malign spell workers and powerful fiends, "The Steel Warlord" met the Nyrondese armies at a quiet place called Kandred's Meadows. Within 12 hours, the field had become a slaughterhouse. Dismissing those like yourself who counseled caution as "cowards and fools," Basmajenn ordered the Nyrondese into a frontal assault, with the Arndulanthers at the head of the wedge. Spells flew, and mighty beings clashed in the sky above; in some places, it seemed that Oerth itself screamed under the assault. As one hippogriff messenger-rider was later to report: "...there is only that sinister brown belt, a strip of murdered nature. It seems to belong to another, darker plane. Every sign of humanity has been swept away. The woods and roads have vanished like chalk wiped from a black slate; of the villages nearby, nothing remains but grey smears. During heavy engagements and attacks I have seen fire and acid falling like rain...." (adapted from a pilot's description of Verdun, 1916) And there it was that your glorious dreams came to an end. Underneath the withering fire of Aerdy crossbows and spells, "The Lions of Light," friends and comrades for whom you had spent so much blood and treasure, simply ceased to exist. Daumond was slain by a summoned fiend during a duel with three enemy spellcasters, though a grim-faced Sasoon destroyed two of them with his wand before falling next to his friend. An axe flashes, destroying fiends, cleaving men. Men falling all around you, their surcoats a rainbow of different colours. Blood on the armor, on your hands - so much blood! The world gone mad, spinning out of control. Spinning.... How youurvived, how you returned to safety are all unclear; indeed, your next clear memory is of waking up in a bed at a temple dedicated to the god Rao. Puzzled by the chill at the height of the summer, you summoned an acolyte - who amusedly informed you that such weather was normal for Fireseek (January). Of the intervening months between Wealsun (June) and Fireseek, you can remember nothing. From your attendants in the temple, however, you learned only that a grey-cowled man had brought you into the temple at Rel Mord, bound by magical chains and in the grip of a terrible madness. While the rest of Oerth ushered in the Year of Peace, the acolytes cared for you as best they could until the high priest himself could spare the time to attempt a cure. Thanking them profusely for their efforts, you offered to pay them anything they asked - only to find that payment had already been arranged on your behalf, and that you were now free to return home. And so you returned to Arndulanth - not to parade or a heroes welcome, but to quiet despair and painful memories. Of the 520 brave souls who had followed your banner and set out from the town in CY 583, only two others had returned. Though overjoyed to see you, it was then that your sister delivered the final blow: the Tenh campaign had gone poorly, and your father had been called back to active duty while you were away. He did not return. Believing you both lost, your mother was overborne by grief. She died two months later, during Ready'reat. The physic's verdict: a defect of the heart. All the fighting, the brave words, the sacrifice. All for naught. "The Paladin's Code will make you strong," the priests had said, "strong enough to withstand any adversity in the pursuit of justice and glory." But justice had proven to be a mirage, and glory a cruel joke that had cost you your truest friends. The Code had failed. It had failed you. It had failed your friends. And it had failed every one of those young boys who had marched off with you, never to return. Following it, you had failed, too. Thinking upon this, you are reminded of a scroll carried by your friend Sasoon during the last days of the war, and found again on your person by the acolytes of Rao. Written by some unknown bard, it reads: The Sea of Faith Was once, too, at the full, and 'round Oerth's shore Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd. But now I only hear Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear And naked shingles of the world. Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so helpful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And we are here on a darkling lain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant armies clash by night. Never again! you vowed. Never again would you lift up arms against another "for King and Country." Never again would you participate in the idiocy and useless sacrifice of war. Never again would you follow the path of Heironeous, The Valiant Warrior, whose credo had betrayed you all. The priests of Rao have their own sayings, however. One of them is "never say never." In late Readying (February) of 585, a visitor arrived at your door. He was a cleric of Rao, and his words of Peace and Mercy were a great comfort to you as you agonized over what to do with the remainder of your life. Slowly, persuasively, Father Jude told you of the world outside, and of the despair and chaos which wracked the kingdom. The grey-robed man who brought you to the temple was a member of an organization known as "The Sagacious Society," a shadowy group of scholars, mages, and adventurers dedicated to preserving Nyrond as a bastion of civilization, culture and learning. "Turn away from glory in battle," read the scroll brought by Father Jude, "for you know better than most the cruelty of this illusion. Where there is ignorance, come sow enlightenment. Where there is conflict, sow peace. Where there is weakness, offer the strength of thy arm - and of thy counsel. This was the credo of your friend Sasoon, and oft did he speak well of his friend and leader, Dorian Beauchamp. We invite you to find the strength within yourself to walk his path with us, and thereby to keep alive and honour his ideals and his memory." And so it was that you became a follower of Rao, and an agent of the Sagacious Society. Your shining Plate Mail and magical Axe were given away as gifts, to be used as the Society saw fit. In return, you were presented with magical chainmail to wear beneath your robes, and a magic staff "to lean on in your coming journeys." No longer would you serve as an agent of those who seek war for its own sake, or condone the appalling folly of killing "for king and country." Instead, you vowed to live by a better credo of peace and reason, which seeks the light of knowledge rather than glory and sees self- defense as the last option rather than the first. For the remainder of the winter you traveled about Nyrond with Father Jude, serving as his acolyte during his journeys throughout northern Nyrond and learning from him the arts of peace and conciliation. In Planting (April) of 585, however, you arrived at Hendrenn Halgood to find a summons waiting for you from Duke Arnon Obrend. It seems that some friends of his needed the services of a capable adventurer in order to help them retrieve certain valuable items of magic. These items would be extremely useful to the Society, and especially to the hard-pressed gnomes of the Flinty Hills. For them the war continues without respite, but success in your mission may yet bring them some peace. You are to journey west to Highfolk, where agents will make contact with you and escort you to the next stop on your journey. Upon the successful completion of your assigned tasks, you are to use your charisma and new-found skills in order to procure an item known as The Orb of Shadow for the Society as your reward. The Orb is to be brought back to Highfolk, where transport will be arranged. Many lives may depend upon your success. Good Luck.... ******************[ STATISTICS ANMAGIC ]********************** DORIAN BEAUCHAMP, (10th Paladin)// 4th Priest of Rao Str. 16 Int. 12 Wis. 17 Dex. 11 Con. 15 Cha. 18 HPS. 73 AC: 3 AL: Lawful Good SPELLS: 2x1st // 5x1st, 4x2nd. SPHERES: Astral, Charm, Divination, Guardian, Healing, Law, Thought, Numbers (min), Necromantic (min), Protection (min), Wards (min); [PAL: Divination, Healing, Protection] GRANTED POWERS: [1st] Friends spell, 1x/day. [4th] +2 on saves vs. illusions and mind-affecting spells. [7th] Emotion spell (Calm), 1x/day. [9th] True Seeing spell, 1x/day. TURN UNDEAD @ -4 levels (0 lvl, no ability yet) N.B. Dorian has forsaken his paladinhood, but still retains some vestiges of his former abilities: * His paladin spells are now granted by Rao, with the exception of the spheres of Combat and War, which he no longer receives. * Dorian's immunity to non-magical diseases has been left intact, and in extreme situations he may be able to successfully use his healing powers of Laying on Hands and Curing Disease. Nevertheless, the anguish which this causes him makes it truly a last-resort option, which he will avoid at almost all costs. (In game terms, I favour using DM judgment to determine success, in accordance with role-playing and its fit with the storyline; if you must use dice for this, however, the probability of success should not be less than 50%.) * Detect Evil no longer functions on command, but he still gets a tingling sensation at the base of his neck occasionally which warns him of potential trouble (DM's grant, use as plot device). * As turning undead would require calling on the power of Heironeous, it no longer functions at all, though he will gain the ability again soon as a priest of Rao if he persists in his chosen path. _MAGIC ITEMS_ +2 Chainmail "Cane of Malcath" (see below) Horn of Goodness Ring of Sustenance POTIONS: Healing, Elixir of Health, Philter of Persuasiveness. SCROLL [L9]: Find Traps, Dispel Magic, Thought Broadcast. * "Cane Of Malcath," +2 Quarterstaff. This weathered ashwood quarterstaff once belonged to Malcath, a High Priest of Rao who wandered Oerth in the fourth century CY. Patriarch Malcath was justly famed for his wise council and mediation skills, and it is said by some temple scholars that his quiet intervention was instrumental in ensuring the peaceful and gracious secession of the Urnst States from Nyrond at the end of the War Between Crowns in CY 356. That the economic strength of the Urnst states has become Nyrond's saving grace in these dark times is one of Istus' great ironies, and a shining example of Malcath's oft-repeated axiom that "in the end, no act of goodness is ever truly forgotten, or in vain." The staff is LG in alignment, and any evil being attempting to grasp or wield it immediately takes 3-12 points of damage and is afflicted with Confusion as per the priest spell, no save. At present, the staff has manifested certain powers, including the size alteration ability common to many magical quarterstaves (between 4' [cane] and 10', in this case) and the following spells, each cast once per day at the 12th level of ability. These powers are activated by mental command, with no initiative modifier: * 'song of peace' (music of the spheres) * suggestion * genius These are the only powers currently usable by Dorian. The staff's full history and powers are chronicled in the temple's Codices of Moruesh, however, and appropriate powers are said to reveal themselves slowly as the bearer grows in knowledge and wisdom (deeds and study, therefore, not just levels). The array of powers which it has manifested over the years has even led some to suggest that the staff may change its powers to fit the needs and history of its wielder rather than having a set array of functions, a contention that remains a topic of civilized debate among temple archivists to this day. ___________________________ (C)JOE KATZMAN, 1994; (Joe_Katzman@magic-bbs.corp.apple.com/ CompuServe 74247,3033) All rights reserved. Like the other postings from this exchange, this posting is: (1) sed on materials published by TSR; and (2) for personal use only. Distribution is fine, even encouraged, but only if the sources are attributed and as long as it is distributed solely as freeware. ___________________________ ODDS N' ENDS: * The name for Dorian's magic staff is derived from an acronym for the principal players at the Congress of Vienna, where the Great Powers of Europe agreed on conditions which maintained one of Europe's longest stretches of peace since Roman times: Prince von (M)etternich of Austria, Tsar (AL)exander I of Russia, Lord (CA)stlereagh of Great Britain, Foreign Minister (T)alleyrand of France, and Chancellor (H)ardenburg of Prussia. * As for the Codices of Moruesh, that name is derived from the great martial artist and sifu Morihei Ueshiba, founder of the non-violent martial art of Aikido ("the way of blending energy"). * Lastly, the nature of this character and implicit views expressed thereby should not be construed as an accurate reflection of the author's personal or political views. As author David Gerrold puts it his book, _A Rage for Revenge_: "It may; equally, it may NOT. I have deliberately written much...that I disagree with, if for no other reason than to confound critics and academics, but primarily because you cannot have an interesting argument unless both sides get a fair hearing. In either case, armchair analysts will be on much safer ground to assert that my characters have seized on the responsibility for speaking for themselves and their own concerns." I couldn't have said it better myself. -- Joe Katzman Toronto, Canada; 1994.