City of Splendors & Horrors
Knowledge by any means necessary
Khef Ka-mai, level 2
Divine Covenant: Covenant of Preservation
Background: Cormyr (Wheloon), Theologist (Cormyr (Wheloon) Benefit)
FINAL ABILITY SCORES
Str 10, Con 16, Dex 13, Int 20, Wis 19, Cha 12.
STARTING ABILITY SCORES
Str 10, Con 16, Dex 13, Int 18, Wis 17, Cha 12.
AC: 17 Fort: 15 Reflex: 17 Will: 16
HP: 30 Surges: 9 Surge Value: 7
Religion +11, Endurance +9, Thievery +9, History +11
Acrobatics +4, Arcana +6, Bluff +2, Diplomacy +2, Dungeoneering +5, Heal +5, Insight +5, Intimidate +2, Nature +5, Perception +5, Stealth +2, Streetwise +2, Athletics +3
Invoker: Ritual Caster
Level 1: Dakshai’s Body-Mind Union
Level 2: Insightful Preservation
Invoker at-will 1: Sun Strike
Invoker at-will 1: Grasping Shards
Invoker encounter 1: Angelic Harrier
Invoker daily 1: Brilliant Beacon
Invoker utility 2: Shroud of Warning
Ritual Book, Adventurer’s Kit, Enduring Spirit Vestments Cloth Armor (Basic Clothing) +1
Hand of Fate, Create Campsite, Amanuensis
[From the unfinished autobiography/journal of Khef Ka-Mai]Shackles. Slavery. Hatred. This is what I have been born into. Day after day, year after year, I felt an itch in the back of my mind. Somehow IT was in there. Somehow IT held me back. Yet, as IT aged, I became smarter. I became stronger. And IT’s prescence in my mind weakened until one day I realized the itch had been quenched. Something must of helped do this, as it fed, it became more and more like its prey, and less and less like IT’s ‘self’. So there I stood, unsure what to do next, with an abundace of knowledge now at my fingertips. Suddendly, time became a friend, not foe. I used it to my advantage, copying word upon word, sentence upon sentence, anything I could get my hands on that helped me understand my place. Over time I began to realize that there was more to this life, and I did not have to be bonded.
Then one day, thru my studies, I learned that there were other worlds than these. Other “whens”, other “wheres”. I became obsessed. I became enthralled. Could this be my escape? Could this lead to my freedom? I had to know. Day after day I peered into IT’s “eyes”, as deep into as I could. I found out there were times when I could simply “shade” my mind, and keep IT out. So I did. And I planned. It became increasingly clumsy, increasingly… careless. I learned about IT, IT’s powers of the mind, IT’s powers to travel to these other “wheres” and “whens”. I also knew that there used to be scores of these smooth skinned slimy creatures, yet this one stuck to the darkness, alone, no support from others. In fact, I’m not quite sure I’ve ever seen another. Suddenly a truth dawned upon me, what we had done in my adolescence, is shift thru these wheres and whens. In fact, there were days when I would wake up, and be somewhere else completely. The climate would change, the light, the feel. This is when we would “travel”. So now, I just had to bide my time, wait for the moment that was adventageous for me, and spring my escape.
I began to realize that I could not join others like me. I could not make IT shift to where I pleased. So I settled for the next best thing. I found a where and when that was densely populated. There was diversity here. There was an abundance of knowledge. This is where I wanted to forge my path. I wanted to build a life of my own in this place. So I waited. I bided my time, and then it happened. IT lured a poor soul into our dark cavernous “home” in the swamp under the guise of “trade”, but I knew what was about to happen. It was going to feed. I took my usual course of action, and slowly seperated myself from them. Allowed it time to gorge, then fall into its post-meal “trance”, I hastily chose my weapon. A long, slender piece of wood, with a sharpened end that happened naturally as it snapped off its former host. As IT layed in the darkness, slightly shuddering in bliss from what had just transpired, I began to shade my mind as I got closer. Closer… Closer still… I could tell that IT was unaware of my prescence. So much time elapsed from being together, IT could care less where and what I was doing, IT thought I was so supremely caught in ITs allure that IT wouldnt worry about me. But today my master, you should have thought differently. When I was as close as I could bare, as close as I felt I could be without alerting it to my prescence, I pounced. I couldn’t help myself, it was bloodlust, but I let out a bellowing cry as I sprang on top of it. Turning this long piece of wood to the sharpened end whilst I was in the air, I embedded it thru IT’s quad appendages, up thru its “mouth” and right into where I believed it’s “center” to be. With my heel on it’s chest, it quivered. It thrust it’s arms out at me in desperate pleas for life, but it was too late. My work was done. It went limp. I felt the “itch” fully leave my mind, and at the time I knew I was free. I withdrew the makeshift staff from its face. The sharpened end had dulled a little bit from where it made contact with the ground behind the creature, and it’s slime and insides stained the tip. Hastily, in almost a nervous fever, I grabbed what supplies I could from around me, and ran out of the cave.
With the swamp lands to my back, and the mountains in the rear, I made my way to the road, towards the sea. I kept to the road. To my left I could see horned mountains in the mist. As those passed, there was a faint outline of a vast metropolis. That is where I headed. Finally I made my way to the edge of this city, that I have now come to know as Suzail, the capital of Cormyr. I saw much variety of being here, much law, and much waste. Taking on the traits of my master, I became a recluse. I snuck around the dark alleyways of Suzail with only one thought in mind. Knowledge would be my saviour. Knowledge would be the key to my true freedom. So I made my way to the only place that made any sense to me, the royal library. For months I was able to reside in the deep recesses of the aisles, reading, learning, copying knowledge like a glutton. There was a vast expanse of books for my mind to keep occupied upon, and my former life slowly faded away, much like my younger years. After quite some time I had created my own novels. Bits and pieces of books, scrolls, and tablets that I deemed important. But in my haze and obsession, I had not realized, I became too comfortable. I found an empty shelve far in the back of the library, large enough for someone my size to create a dwelling, and so I did. So there I was by candlelight, reading, writing, copying to my hearts content. The only break to my habits was when I needed to eat, then I would retreat to the alleyways to pick thru the refuse of a bustling capital city, eating what was not spoiled, and sharing the left overs with a small cat that I had befriended. Occasionally it would follow me back to my dwelling in the library, and it was the only friend I’ve ever known. Over time in my comfort, I thought the routine the libraries handlers kept would never change, never falter. I had sucessfully eluded them until now, why did I have any reason to believe it would not continue? I was wrong. I was discovered.
One day in my slumber, I awoke to a large commotion. Chainmail clinked against the metal of armor, and voices that were muffled slowly began to take shape. There were seeking me, calling for the “miscreant stowaway in the library”. I did my best to ellude them, but in my comfort, I became careless. Stacked books, tablets and scrolls imprisoned me in my dwelling, and that was where I was discovered. I should have gotten used to the feeling of imprisonment, because that was what was to become of the next chapter in my life. Even in a city such as Suzail, a capital city, I was not given a trial. My captors became the judge, jury, and executioner. They stated that feeding nearly spoiled garbage to a cat was harmful to it, which broke one of their laws, and that I was stealing information from the city and its library, some of which could be sensitive. Some of which could be considered secrets. Regardless, I was shackled once again (something I vowed to never let happen again), put into the back of a caged wagon, and sent to prison. Sent to Wheloon.
I was unceremoniously dropped off into a city of vagabonds, castaways, insane, thugs, and Sharran cultists. As horrible and unkempt as this city may be, I was born into slavery. IT kept me, and I witnessed it do horrible things. The only relic I had left with me from those times was the wood I had “relieved” my former master with, which never left my side. Although Wheloon was capable of testing my endurance, overall I was able to keep to myself, like I have most of my existence, and survive. I was able to find one advantage to residing in Wheloon, the food was better. Having lived off half-spoiled leftovers in Suzail, I was able to procure semi-fresh perishable goods, something I have not been accustomed to. As I bided my time in this place, I once again learned that my hunger for knowledge would keep me alive. I strolled the city, it’s walls, it’s outskirts. I went to the back recesses of my mind to try and remember all that I had learned about Cormyr, and anything about Wheloon. That’s when it hit me. Wheloon was not ALWAYS a prison city. It was once, a normal city of Cormyr, only to be turned into a prison after what was called the “spellplague”. After remembering this fact, I had a more keen eye on the city, and in some of it’s ruins, I was able to see evidence of its past civilization. Using this new found epiphany, I looked for weak points. I looked for providence. Soon, I would find it. In the Northern section of Wheloon I had found the remnants of a quarry, and in said quarry there were mine-like shafts. Upon entering, I found that areas were rich in slate. It was a brilliant bright green color, and, using my minds eye, I remembered that some of the ruins of homes that prisoners lurked in, had roofs of the same bright green slate, tho it had much more patina. Finding my way thru this maze of tunnels, I found that it exited into a ruin of “The Lost Keep”. Here is where I had to keep my wits about me. I recalled that the few Sharran Cultists I had relations with told me some more extreme believers reside here. Finding only traces of these people, I was able to make quietly make my way thru this area, and out to the border of the Vast Swamp. (Note to self: these ruins and areas of the Vast Swamp are very peculiar. I had the same feeling of “thin” here as I did when I would awake in different “wheres” and “whens”. May be worth investigating some day.) Staying just off of the main road, I made my way to the outskirts of Daerlun, to a small port, where I became a stowaway on a small ship. Whispers that I could barely make out from people on board say we are headed to Waterdeep. What new avenues will my life take from there?