Here is something I banged out to provide some depth as to what happened when Vassago trained  to level 2.

Game mechanics:   He gained his Font of Power. Gained the spellpower Magic Missile and gained 8 hitpoints

Interlude:-

Somewhere in the woods near the outpost...during first night watch.

Vassago gazed into the darkness beyond the glow of the campfire behind him.  The night as uneventful so far, and he amused himself watching the graceful stride of the Sylvan elf maid, Caelynn, moved almost inperceptably among the flickering shadows cast by the distant campfire.  He smiled, drawing on his pipe-weed, as he saw her make effort to conceal her movements, yet she stood out in base relief to his dark adapted eyes, their inky blackness drinking in any and all light from the surrounding gloom.  He mused that be she a rogue, he might have difficulty in seeing her stealthiness, but even then, her movements would betray her to a master of shadows like himself.

It had been a long and hard won ride to the outpost, especially when the hordes of the dead attacked the night before.  He had been injured, nearly killed, and his shadowy ties to the realm of death had failed to spare him their scourging.  Revived by this fair elf now striding through the shadowy wood, watching for foes, he at first perceived it was none other than the Queen herself come to protect him, but that glamour was replaced by the flaxen haired Druid's smiling face as his strength returned.  It made him thoughtful...and he had begun this night turning over thoughts of the true mystery that lay ahead, as well as the machinations of his Lady-faire, who was acting agent through the healing magics of nature that Caelynn had used.  Such pondering sought to maybe ferret out that this lithe elf before him might actually be the Raven Queen herself, in one of her many guises, but if so, why keep her presence a secret to him, one of her most trusted and loyal?  The question nagged at him for sometime before he chuckled to himself absently.  This was not the Queen, but a fellow adventurer, striving, like him to discover what had truly happened, and that he had let his imagination lead him astray.

Caelynn turned at the sound, and saw the dark shape leaning against a stump.  "What is so amusing, Vassago?"  her face drawn up in an inquisitive smirk.

"Nothing to matter your pretty head over, my lady." His voice carrying out from under the hood he wore.  "Just the absent musings of this addled fool."  His smile was visible below the shadow that covered his upper face.  "Just woolgathering with no apparent objective."  The glow from his pipe lit up his face as he drew in another breath.

The elf studied her friend for a moment. Then laughed as he pulled his hood off..and gathered up his mass of unruly hair and bound it in a train between his horns.  She paused for a moment.  Vassago was such an amicable person, one easily forgot he was a Tiefling.  She had heard stories of the Accursed race, but Vassago was unlike those stories as one could get.  Quick with a compliment, a joke, trick or pantomime, the rakish Sorceror was quite a showman, and she had come to think of his antics as amusing.  She also found that she had come to think of him as a friend, something she would have been surprised to say six moons previous.  No, Vassago was indeed not at all like those stories made Tieflings out to be.  "You need to trim that tangle, my friend," she smiled anew, " before that black mane of yours surpasses even your skilled attempts to tame it."  

Vassago sighed in exaggerated pantomime, drawing a giggle from the elf, "Such is my lot." he lamented half halfheartedly, "The power of the Shadows seems to have infused it even more than it has infused me."  He fussed with is hair more, "And lets not get started on these...protuberances..." gesturing to the small low-set horns running from his forehead over the top of his crown.  "Always in the way.  Providing Anchors with in which it can get into d in such a moriass that I have to resort to the knife."  He feigned exasperation.  "What ever did my ancestor do that warranted this?"

Caelynn chuckled again, then resumed her patrol.  The Zombie attack the previous night had taxed everyone to their limits and she was probably the only one who did not feel the fatigue the others felt, well except for that demented Drow.  She had yet to fully trust the dark one, but he had never given her any chance to further her distrust, and he did fight with them as a fellow.

Once again, alone with his thoughts, Vassago watched the interplay of light and shadow as his mind wandered.  His power over shadow had helped him blast down the shambling assailants last night, it was not enough, and he was defeated by the rotting ones.  His shortcomings  gnawed on him.  He was powerful. That he knew, yet he had limitations.  His skill with shadow was a waxing ideal, yet he felt at a loss as to where it would take him next.  He sat and toyed absently with the flame in his pipe.  He would have to unlock yet another mystery within him, yet he had no idea where to start.

"Why, at the beginning." a whispery seductive feminine voice filled his mind.  "Really, Vassago, you can be so dense sometimes."  The coy amusement in the voice assured him that the voice was just teasing him.

"So, you are there." he replied in his mind, "and here I thought you had forgotten me."

Laughter filled his mind, "Oh Vassago, I would never forget you." the chuckle in her voice evident, "Not you, my dear Shadow Given Form.  Not ever." the voice paused, "Besides, you are embarked on the task I set before you, so I am paying close attention to you, my sweet."

He looked upward and about into the darkness, but could not make out any form he could discern.  "Silly boy!" she chastised mockingly, "I am not there, nor anywhere close, as I do not need to be." she paused again, "The shadows stretch throughout the world itelf, and I can see and hear everything said or done in their presence."  The mirth slipped a little, "The Raven Queen is the Mistress of Shadows.  None can deny her."

"Forgive my insolence, my lady." Vassago quickly replied, "I just long for your beautiful face is all."  He smiled impishly.

More laughter, "Oh you charmer, you" the mirth and coyness returned, "I begin to wonder what I saw in you.  Was it true potential..or that your devilish charm had overwhelmed my common sense?"

"A little of both, perhaps," he replied, "I am quite the 'catch' you could say."

"Oh you!!" the voice mockingly chastised him before yet more laughter filled his mind, "My love, you do so enrapture me sometimes," she paused, "probably more than what is prudent, but still, I am the Raven Queen, and one such as I has lofty expectations..." the voice trailed off before the laughter resumed

Vassago shared in the laugh for a few moments.  When they had both caught their mental breath, the voice continued, "Now, back to why I am speaking with you in the first place. " she paused, then quickly continued, "Now, stop that!  This is important, you rake.  Behave and let me finish."

"If I must." Vassago intoned disappointment.

The voice giggled, "You are terrible!"

"Just how you like it" he replied.

"Stop it, you imp!" the voice continued,  "I mean it this time."

"Okay...okay" he relented, "You were saying.."

"Yes," the Queens voice continued, "I gave you the power over Shadows.  Your gift allows you to weave their substance into your powers. However, you are still not entirely skilled in their use." She paused, gathering her thoughts,  "What I need you to see is that the shadows are power themselves.  You need to see that you do not need to weave them, but use your mind to channel them into what form you desire.  Once you achieve that, your power will flow freely within you, allowing you to re-sculpt anything you desire without weaving."  She paused again, "That is what secret I am here to help you unlock."

Time seemed to fly by as images and words came at breakneck speed.  Vassago's understanding of how his power worked got rewritten upon his soul and he could see the true source of his power at last, a dark roiling well..that he could bend and twist to how ever he saw it.  In the end, the Raven Queen's final words to him filled him with new vigor. 

"Now, my dearest," she praised,  "you are one step closer to the power I wish you to have.  Your skill and power will now be only limited by your own experiences, and it will become as powerful as you are capable.  Few will be able to match you, but do not be reckless."  A tone of hurt entered into her voice, "I would hate to lose you, Vassago.  So please be careful."

"I will be, My Lady-faire," He replied, "but now, I know you are there should I need your assistance.  What more could one ask for?"

A note of caution entered into her voice, "Yes, I can hear you, but my omniscience is not all encompassing, and thus I may not see your query for several hours, or even days.  I will do my best, but you have to rely on your own ability and wits to get through most challenges."

He stood up and looked into the darkest part of the wood, there he could just make out two midnight blue-purple eyes staring back at him.  "I will, my lady." He said aloud, "Be well and care not.  I will be safe."

"You better..." the voice trailed off as the eyes faded.

Caelynn turned back after taking only 3 steps, "Did you say something Vassago?" she was surprised to see him on his feet so quickly.  

Vassago turned to the Druidess, realizing only moments had passed, while hours seemed to have.  "I said be careful and be safe." he replied. "I would not like to see my savior injure herself tripping over that root at your feet.

Caelynn looked down, seeing the root for the first time, and marveled at his perception in near darkness. "Thank you."  She replied.  "I guess I was a little preoccupied with my own woolgathering."

Vassago chuckled.  "Careful, it's contagious."

Honestly I don't have much to change. Get rid of the expended Ring of the Ram and store the Headband of Intellect +2. Actually store the Staff of Swarming Insects as well. I have no extra weapons, potions are always useful and the scrolls and wands are my only way to cast spells.

We beat the party items to death last week so I'm good there.

FROM MY CHARACTER SHEET

• Arrows, standard, 63
  Quiver, arrows standard, 20
  Shortbow +1 (composite, +1 Str)
  

• a nice box/chest for gifts -- make sure to include some nice silk and maybe a little pillow, for elegant presentation
  

• new clothes, shoes, silk headscarves, etc. (PHB lists "Noble's Outfit" as 75gp, let's go with that, or 100gp+ as I'm asking for a rush job, alterations, and/or unusual designs)
  

• almond oil or olive oil
  

• attar of roses
  

• maybe some unique local fruits or trinkets
  

Feel free to reply to this thread to let me know what options (spells, class features, etc.) you will take for 2nd level. Also, character hit points will be maximum for the level.

Ok everyone Symon has reached a level where he can create magical items and picked up the feat to craft wands. With that in mine, is there anything we are lacking? It's easier to create arcane wands but it's possible to do divine. I would suggest a wand of sleep for when Thorfinn fails his will save for getting out of a rage.

Taken from "Better Disease Implementation" D&D 3.5e variant rule, found at https://dnd-wiki.org/wiki/Better_Disease...iant_Rule). Thanks Aarnott!

Diseases now come in stages. When a character is hit by an attack that causes disease (or exposed to some disease-producing effect), they must make a Fortitude save or else immediately enter Stage 1 of the disease. Multiple failed saves against a disease-producing attack do not advance the character further in the disease progression (normally). Each disease has different effects described for each of its stages and the effects are cumulative between stages.

Diseases also have a cycle, which is how often the character must make a new Fortitude save to see if they improve or advance further with the disease. These Fortitude saves are taken at the initial disease saving throw DC. A success means the disease does not advance for that cycle. A success by 5 or more means that it improves by 1 Stage. A failure means that the disease advances 1 stage. Bed rest reduces the DC by 2 and a heal check can be substituted for the saving throw in the case of long-term care.

Like the original rules, diseases can be caused by Contact, Ingestion, Inhalation, or Injury. Any disease can be caused by injury if it is carried by a monster, but otherwise, the listed infection type is the only way the disease can spread.

Generally, the base save DC for a disease should be 7 + 1/2 the monster's CR + its Constitution modifier. If the creature does not have a Constitution score, use its Charisma modifier instead.

Addendum for the Erath Campaign:
The updated/new spells listed in the "Better Disease Implementation" D&D 3.5e variant rule do not apply to the Erath campaign; all remain as listed in the core rules.

Each disease may have its own special rules for starting stage, treatment, and conditions.

While disease damage is cumulatively applied for each stage as the infected worsens through a disease's stages, it is not reapplied as he/she improves; disease damage will applied again should the infected worsen to a previous stage after improving.

Aid Another can be used to assist the long-term care provided by a character, but is limited to the number of patients (maximum 6) the Heal check is made for.

Locale:
Settlement Name: Paendley, Barony of Dulrain, Kingdom of Errod.
Settlement Type: Agricultural Manor
Typography: Forested Lowland
Gross Acres: 2210 (Woods: 331, Crops: 906, Pasture: 973)
Cleared Acreage: 1879 (Tenant: 972, Demesne: 907)
Total population: 117 (44 households)

Persons of Note:
Bellan (Village Reeve, answers directly to the Baron of Dulrain)
Dassell (Yeoman, Light Bowman)
Erron (Laborer, visiting the "Hayl & Hearthy" Inn)
Gwenet (Hune's daughter)
Hayl (Innkeeper, proprietor of the "Hayl & Hearthy" Inn)
Hucan (Tinker, Lauley's father)
Lauley (Tinker, Hucan's son)
Hune "Ol' Sod" (Farmer, Gwenet's father)
Laun (Yeoman-Seargant, Light Footman)
Laurew "Lew" (Village Beadle, Bellan's second of authority)
Locke (Innkeeper's Apprentice)
Olotte (Hune's wife)
Trenn (Laborer, visiting the "Hayl & Hearthy" Inn)
Vira (Veterinarian/Midwife)

Background:
Paendley, originally called Paend's Lee, got its name from a leaning stone formation formerly existing just outside the settlement's edge. The town's founding father, a miserly man named Amon Paend, was known to frequent the stone formation at odd hours, and was rumored to have hidden a large portion of his wealth there. Try as anyone might, no one could determine whether the gossip was true or not.
The stone formation collapsed during a particularly heavy rain storm about 57 years ago, leaving signs that a large tunnel had existed beneath it. Since this event coincided with the disappearance of Amon Paend, it was assumed that the old miser met his doom in the collapse. Many attempts were made over the years to dig up Amon's body and treasure, but neither have been found to this day...

Scenario: Erosion from recent rain storms have revealed a small cave; the cave consists of a tunnel leading to two chambers. The larger chamber is at the end, and is rather unremarkable. Of interest, however, is the entrance to the smaller chamber which appears to have been dug out from the main tunnel.
The glint of coins shines faintly in the torchlight, spread throughout the muddy floor of the small chamber. A DC20 Spot (or DC10 Search) check reveals a skeletal hand protruding from what appears to be the rubble of a collapsed tunnel at the back of the small chamber. If the party has been told about  Amon Paend and the related rumors, they may correctly assume that they have found the ill-fated miser and his treasure. Additionally, a thin layer of dust-like spores can be seen coating the chamber with a DC12 Spot check, and a DC15 Spot check reveals the presence of the spores floating in the torch-lit air.
The spores are a dormant, yet virulent strain of Burning Slumber. Typically found only in warm climates, this strain went dormant as the region cooled and became more temperate. However, once carried (by contact) or inhaled, the warmth of the body brings the Burning Slumber out of dormancy; this is particularly true when the disease is brought out of the cold into heated dwellings, and becomes air-born. The danger related to this strain of Burning Slumber is further compounded by the pneumonia that develops at stage 2 of the disease. The stats for Burning Slumber are found below:

Burning Slumber
Infection: Contact, Inhaled (DC 18)
Incubation: 1d4 days, 6 hour cycle
Damage: 1d4 STR, 1d4 CON
Stage 1: The infected takes disease damage from a high fever; also becomes exhausted.
Stage 2: The infected takes disease damage, plus an additional 1d2 CON as pneumonia sets in; becomes unconscious.
Stages 3 & 4: The infected takes disease damage, plus an additional 1d2 CON from pneumonia; remains unconscious.
Stage 5: Death

This disease is extremely contagious and deadly, but is usually found in warmer climates. At the end of the incubation period, the character must succeed on a DC18 Fortitude save or begin to show symptoms of this disease. After the initial failure, the infected starts deteriorating through the stages with each 6-hour cycle until reaching the stage of illness determined by the save result: a save failed by less than 5 means the infected reaches Stage 1; if a save failed by 5 or more, the infected declines to Stage 2; and a save failed by 10 or more means the infected declines to stage three.

Example: Sickboy fails his Fortitude save by 10 after Burning Slumber's incubation period, meaning he'll deteriorate through three stages of sickness over the following 18 hours (a 6-hour cycle for each stage). During the first 6 hours, he suffers 1d4 STR, 1d4 CON damage, and becomes fatigued. After 12 hours, he suffers another 1d4 STR and 1d4 CON damage from the fever, another 1d2 CON damage from the developing pneumonia, and falls unconscious. After 18 hours, Sickboy suffers another 1d4 STR and 1d4 CON damage from the fever, plus another 1d2 CON damage from pneumonia. If Sickboy survives to this point, he get to make another Fortitude save for each 6-hour cycle to determine whether he improves a stage, remains in his current stage, or worsens a stage per the Disease Variant Rule. Poor Sickboy...

Once the infected recovers from Stage 1 of the disease, he/she will be fatigued and require 1d6 days of bed rest. Immunity to the Burning Slumber is gained once a person recovers from the disease.

For the Disease Variant Rule, see the post in the House Rules forum:
http://ravenblade.net/forum/showthread.p...232#pid232

Please put you lists for procurement (equipment, tasks, etc.) here.

Hey there, Guys and Gals!

As an experiment for extra credit, I would like everyone to post an answer and description to the following 3 questions:

1. What short term goal or desire does your character have?

2. What does your character feel the party should do next (in the way of adventure or current "game hooks")?

3. As a player, what type of scenarios would you like to see more of?

Remember, there are no right or wrong answers. Give it some thought and treat this as an open forum with suggestions and replies. Please make your posts more than single sentence answers, but less than a volume of War and Peace.

Award: 500xp for initial post.

Once upon a time, my father, an Elf who hailed (mainly, we think) from Shandeer, fell in love with my (mostly, we think) Human mother, who hailed from Mandagar. They had me. Shandeer is the loveliest place in Erath, but I never felt completely at home there. I missed Mandagar, but my ... heritage makes me not completely trusted there, either. Whispers of "djinn" and "pari" follow in my wake -- spirit creatures, respected and even revered -- but not necessarily loved or trusted among the people.

To my father's sorrow, I decided to leave our fair homeland and head north. I wanted to see the world, and I thought that I could learn new magics and new ways of fighting. With heavy heart, my father sent me to the care of Aramund Grindell, an old military friend in Sedaria. I was delighted by Sedaria and its cosmopolitan capital city, full of commerce, activity, and folk of all sorts. I began serious training with some colleagues of Aramund. I was delighted, too, to think I'd found love at last, in the arms of the dashing rogue Arcangelo. How could I resist? Unfortunately, Arcangelo had ... a different outlook on things. He's not the type to stick to anything for very long ... or anyone. Nor was he completely truthful in all he told me.


I was heartbroken. I tried to hide it from Aramund and the others, but my performance on the training ground suffered. Finally Aramund pulled me aside for a talk. I begged him not to speak of these matters to my father. Aramund waved that aside, saying the real issue was that I had true talent, and that it was a damn shame to let some fool of a rogue get in the way of perfecting it. "You could hone your skills to be sharper 'n' the king's sword, if you work at it. That idiot boy - he's not worthy of you. I can't abide useless people, and that's what he is. You're a descendant of Elgin VanDryeth, for the gods' sakes! Stop wasting your time. You're nobody's toy and nobody's fool. Get back to what you're best at, girl, and when roadblocks like him get in your way, you charge right over 'em."

I cried, but realized he was right. Even so, I found it hard to concentrate -- everything in the city reminded me of Arcangelo. At length, I decided to head to Freehold, thinking the new sights and -- they said -- freewheeling atmosphere might be just the thing to clear my head and give me a fresh start. Aramund sent me down with some elven guards he knew. I made it to Freehold ... eventually. But that is another story for another time, a story that is still being told.


These days, I try to keep my focus on my skills. When I'm using a blade, or channeling arcane forces, I feel truly alive. No worries about belonging, or acceptance -- just me and my skill, against the odds.