Fingers drum over the obsidian table, the man sitting at the table was built solid, a paragon of the human form, but the silver streaks in his raven hair pay claim to his true age, though he was still many years beyond what he appeared to be.
He stared, dumbfounded at the black envelope that had just been slid under his door. Normally, this wouldn’t be much of a surprise; however, that door didn’t go anywhere. He had long since isolated himself from the material plane, making his home in a pocket dimension. That door didn’t go anywhere until he decided it went somewhere. And yet that letter had come out of nowhere, literally nowhere. In all his years, many strange things happened to him, but this was a new one.
He gets to his feet, cautiously approaching the parcel lying on the stone floor before the heavy metal door. He taps the lens that covered his right eye, changing his vision to look for any enchantments. Latent magic didn’t seem hostile in nature, only some dimensional magic, something that just it being where it was seemed evident.
He crouches over the letter, examining the blood red wax seal depicting a twisted claymore. He sighs, and begins guessing the sender and the intent. He sighs, coming to the obvious conclusion of the only creature powerful enough to pull off this sort of feat for such a minor reason, and had a particular interest in him. “Oh hells,” he growls. He picks up the note and, drawing the most mundane knife of the many on his belt, cuts through the seal, opening the black missive.
In a moment he looks down at the blank black paper, the wizen warrior looks up to new surroundings. Great tapestries of red and black hang from the high vaulted ceilings all the way to the polished stone floor like a silken forest. Sounds, malicious and carnal, whisper and echo around him. His sword is in his hand, a bastard sword, its blade a perfect mirror shine, serrated back and heavy belly toward the point. His fingers grip tight enough to hold, but light enough to let it the blade dance. “Hells!” he rasps.
“Sicarious Bastardson, ” The long forgotten family name is about as welcome in his ear as an Illithid’s tentacle, he went to great lengths to assure the name forgotten. “My favorite mortal…who I haven’t known intimately.” Sicarious turns to meet his host, lowering his blade. A tall ebony figure emerges from the silk. Standing a head and them some over him, skin like pitch, black hair falling around a crown of six horns. The demon give a toothy smile, “Though that list is probably shorter than the not.”
Grazzt, Demon Prince, had always shown a particular interest, and based on what he knew of Sicarious, had done so for quite some time. He hadn’t been addressed as Bastardson since he was a boy, and had made it a point to swiftly end it there by slaying every last person who knew the name. It was not as if he had the typical attributes Grazzt was interest in, neither in his shirt nor trousers.
An assassin by trade, looks were just another part of his deadly repertoire, and Sicarious could stare daggers just as well as he could throw them. He cuts to the chase, unwilling to play one of Grazzt’s games. “What do you want?”
Grazzt dramatically feigns shock, a ridiculous gesture from the towering demon, “Want? Can I just desire the company of one of my dearest friends? But true no, its not even that bring you here. NO!” he cries, “I brought you into my home that I may give to you the key to creating one of the greatest weapons a mortal can wield, even have a something to test it out on. You ask me what I want and all I want is to shower you with gifts and help you to your destiny!” He crossed his massive arms and pouts.
Sicarious raises an eyebrow, Grazzt was always playing an angle, even an angle of an angle. Destiny? Greatest Weapon? And something to test it on? These that danced too broadly in his statement, now he had to figure out what was a meant to draw him off and which would lead to Grazzt true intentions. “So you want me to make a this weapon for you?”
Grazzt rapidly shakes his head, “Oh no no no! I told you a gift, it’s for you!”
Sicarious ponders this response for a moment before going on, “And I suppose this test will be a sufficient on for a weapon of its magnitude, a test to prove the full extent of its power.”
Grazzt’s toothy grin widens, “Indeed” he purrs.
“A test to show what sets this weapon apart from all other weapons?”
“So in order to be an effective test it would only be possibly completed by a creation of this magnitude.”
“Yes,” Grazzt says flatly now, clearly annoyed by the repetition of the same question.
“So what sort of abomination do you need me to make a weapon expressly to kill it?” Sicarious grins, knowing he finally found truth.
Grazzt’s eyes narrow, smile gone, “My son.”
Sicarious withholds a laugh, knowing Grazzt well enough to know his progeny are scatted all over the multiverse, many often trying to usurp their father’s throne in the abyss, all of whom are swiftly cut down. Even if he was serious, most all of Sicarious’s armaments were capable of killing demons and demon spawn alike.
“This one is different, he’s uniting all of them against me.”
He was definitely hiding something, he knew Grazzt’s bastard were just as arrogant as their father, rarely could two maintain a partnership and have room enough for both egos but to have one unite them all under one banner…“Who is its mother.”
“Just some common succubus.” Sicarious stares at him silently.
“So what do I need this weapon for?”
“Oh, just to make your job a little easier…”
“Well, I’m always looking for a challenge.”
“When I say a little easier, I mean going from impossible to highly unlike.”
Sicarious stares wide eyes, repeating again flatly, “Who is its mother.”
“Have you heard of the Harlot’s Coin Heresy?”
Sicarious raises his voice, “Who is its Mother”
“Well there is some truth to it, the virtue part, though she didn’t sell it I can tell you that much.”
“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Sicarious rubs pinches his the base of his hawkish nose and rubs it in exasperation. “You want me to try to kill a GOD CHILD?!?”
“Half god child”
“It is possible.”
Sicarious sighs, taking a moment to recompose himself, stretch, cracking his joints, he prepares himself for what may be the pinnacle or the end of his career, he wasn’t getting any younger. “Alright,” “But I’ve got some demands. I will be paid handsomely for the crafting of the weapon and handsomely once more for fixing your late term abortion. I will also require a some assistance in the creation and destruction, who will likewise be paid, by you.”
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So yeah, been writing the history of a character and embellishing some of the story behind how he made one of his weapons, and thought hey, I could make a large scale quest from this. (like 3ish miniquests and a large end one)
So, Characters will be 3.5ish, ball park level 25-30, probably evil (better have a damn good reason otherwise), wont be rolling for anything, no hardcore stats, monstrous creatures allowed (within reason) but ECL should be reflected. Should be able to contribute something more than combat to the party that makes you an asset when working to create weapon. Arcane power, divine power, ancient lore, planar experience, a really big hammer? Whatever.
Name: Legit name "What your mama calls you"
Titles: At this level you're bound to have a few
Personality: Just an idea of who they are beyond alignment.
Class: No homebrew, open to any book source so long as you can show it.
Appearance: Good solid paragraph or a picture with some extra words.
Prime stats: list in order of priority your highest abilities (Strength, Dexterity, etc.)
Dump stats: these will dictate the value of your lowest scores and in contrast raise the value of your prime skills (i.e. the more dump stats you have the more your prime stats are worth)
Skills: As 3.5 though you can be more general, like 4.0
Amulets, bracers, belts, etc. Standarded slotting, some fudging allowed.
Just important stuff, early start, recent events, stuff that would they would be known for.