Numanair Campaign Setting
Lightfoot Halfling Bard, College of Lore, Level 10
- 91cm tall (3’0") and 16kg (35lbs).
- Short yet shaggy dark brown (now blonde) hair. Wide brown eyes, impressively large ears, tan skin. Average frame.
- Wears studded leather armour over a rag-like shirt. Baggy free-flowing pants, curl-tipped shoes.
- Wields a lute, a crossbow, several daggers, a scimitar, a wand, a bag of tricks…
20 years old, born on the 9th of Gozran, 1060
Strength: +0 (10)
Dexterity: +3 (16)
Constitution: +0 (10)
Intelligence: +0 (10)
Wisdom: +1 (12)
Charisma: +5 (20)
Sanity: +2 (15)
Armor Class: 15
Hit Dice: 10d8
Spell Save DC: 18
Spell Attack Bonus: +9
Dexterity: +7 >
Charisma: +9 >
Acrobatics: +7 >
Animal Handling: +3 ~
Arcana: +2 ~
Athletics: +2 ~
Deception: +13 >>
History: +2 ~
Insight: +9 >>
Intimidation: +7 ~
Investigation: +2 ~
Medicine: +3 ~
Nature: +2 ~
Perception: +9 >>
Performance: +13 >>
Persuasion: +9 >
Religion: +2 ~
Sleight of Hand: +7 >
Stealth: +7 >
Survival: +3 ~
>Proficiency >>Expertise ~Jack of All Trades
Other Proficiencies and Languages:
Simple weapons, hand crossbows, longswords, rapiers, shortswords
Lute, drum, panflute, disguise kit
Features and Traits:
Song of Rest
Jack of All Trades
Cantrips: Minor Illusion, Friends, Dancing Lights
First Level: Faerie Fire, Tasha’s Hideous Laughter, Thunderwave, Healing Word
Second Level: Shatter, Suggestion, Pyrotechnics, Augury (Ritual) %
Third Level: Dispel Magic, Clairvoyance, Slow %, Wall of Sand %, Revivify %
Fourth Level: Compulsion, Polymorph
Fifth Level: Synaptic Static
Approachable, kind, twitchy, anxious, jokester, secretive.
Survival first, everything else second.
My lute, the only instrument I’ve ever owned.
Cowardly, nervous, too trusting.
Born to a family of professional criminals, Elliot Fishbone was raised as an only child by his quiet, unassuming father, Roscoe, and his boisterous, cheery mother, Rose. During the early years of his life, they moved from town to town in a run-down, horse-pulled caravan, never really settling down. By day, the Fishbone family sold precious, expensive items, antiques, gems, and other exotic objects to whoever would buy them, and lived like wandering gypsies. But they lived a secret double life. Every so often, by night, Elliot’s parents would construct and perform complex heists. They tried to teach Elliot everything they knew, starting at the age of 7, but their teachings never really sunk in, and with Elliot’s air-headed, nervous and generally clumsy behaviour, Rose and Roscoe knew he could never be a true master thief.
On one particular heist, Elliot and his parents managed to steal an extremely powerful and desired magical object – that Elliot would later find out was a silver ring, with a deep, red ruby imbedded into its front. However, due to a mistake on Elliot’s behalf, he accidentally alerted the guards upon their escape. It turned out that the people they had been stealing from was a powerful organisation known as the Dread, and they had made it a mission of theirs to track Elliot, Rose and Roscoe down and take the ring back.
Throughout their travels as a family, Elliot encountered street musicians and performers from across the lands. He became enraptured by the sheer variety and volume of music there was out in the world – he had found something that he could be truly passionate about. On one particular morning, aged 16, he came across a travelling band, performing jovially in the town square, to the delight of several townsfolk. Desperate to learn of their musical ways, Elliot pleaded with the band’s human singer to teach him to become a musician, and with his parents’ blessing – as they knew he could never live their lifestyle – he left to travel the world with the band.
Over the next two years, Elliot quickly picked up the ways of the bard. But the leader of the band soon passed away from a sickness, to be replaced with a man who couldn’t hold a tune for the life of him. Over the course of the next few months, he watched as the man’s shady behaviour infected the rest of his bandmates. Their performances, which had once received rapturous applause, were now only met with angry booing and insults. Elliot began to dread performing, already anticipating rejection from the audience.
One day, after a painful performance in Waterdeep, Elliot was laying dejectedly in his cot, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. Wandering out of his room (at the cheapest inn they’d found), he heard the sound of ominous, deep chanting emanating from the room next door. Peeking inside, he was horrified to find the new troupe leader, and the rest of the band, performing some sort of cultist ritual, hands bloodied, eyes dark. A particular symbol imbedded itself in Elliot’s mind. For Elliot, this was the motivation he needed to get out while he still could. Grabbing his lute and the little equipment he had, he duck out of the inn and into the night, making his way toward Neverwinter, hoping to start a new life there, with no aspirations, no goals, and nobody to turn to.
He’d just made it to Leilon, a few weeks later, when he was suddenly kidnapped by a horde of goblins, and carried, semi-conscious, to their king…