Plumes and Parchments
6'2", 180 lbs., 17 yrs., shoulder length golden hair, cobalt blue eyes
Arkadio Durothil, level 1
Build: Cunning Bard
Bardic Virtue: Virtue of Cunning
FINAL ABILITY SCORES
Str 10, Con 14, Dex 12, Int 15, Wis 10, Cha 17.
STARTING ABILITY SCORES
Str 10, Con 14, Dex 10, Int 13, Wis 10, Cha 17.
AC: 17 Fort: 12 Reflex: 13 Will: 15
HP: 26 Surges: 9 Surge Value: 6
Thievery +6, Arcana +9, Streetwise +8, Insight +5, Bluff +8, Perception +5
Acrobatics +2, Diplomacy +4, Dungeoneering +1, Endurance +3, Heal +1, History +5, Intimidate +4, Nature +1, Religion +3, Stealth +2, Athletics +1
Bard: Ritual Caster
Level 1: Linguist
Bard at-will 1: Misdirected Mark
Bard at-will 1: Vicious Mockery
Bard encounter 1: Thunder's Calling
Bard daily 1: Echoing Roar
Ritual Book, Longsword, Adventurer's Kit, Lyre, Thunder Wand +1, Eladrin Chainmail +1
Comprehend Language, Glib Limerick
House Durothil is the oldest noble sun elf house on Faerûn. If the House were the tallest tree in Evermeet, Arkadio would be the smallest sappling under its shadow. Indeed, he is a direct descendant of Prince Durothil – he is the youngest grandson of Selsharra Durothil, matron of the clan, and comes from a long line of statesmen, archmages, and warriors. No wonder he decided to throw it all away and run. Well, not all of it. Gold makes for a wonderful travel companion for a dilettante, after all.
Though still in his youth by elven standards, Arkadio had already spent years traveling across the realms, even dabbling in the courts of the Feywild. His naturally good looks and the Durothil name opened many doors. Unfortunately, the name always came before him. Arkadio had drunken enough elven wine to become well aware of the painful truth that all the elven courts and women and songs were the same, more or less.
He spent a significant amount of time following the Golden Way, the trade route in far eastern Kara-Tur, where few had ever seen an elf, let alone heard of his illustrious clan. He had even managed to become tavern fluent in the oriental Shou tongue, before his coinpurse began to hang lightly. On his return west, crossing the Hordelands, he encountered the utterly enthralling Cheren of Khaghun, princess of a dead clan. The encounter changed the course of his otherwise wandering life. Using every wit, wile, and gold coin in his purse, he rescued her from certain doom and ensured her safe passage back to his school in the distant west, Waterdeep Planarversity. She seemed enthralled with the idea.
If only he had actually attended the Planarversity… A few of his sisters had attended the school, an uncle at the Feywild Planarversity… he could make it happen… The road was far, and time and fortune were his dear, dear friends. In his travels, he discovered he had a knack for languages, people, and song. Attending a college to do more of the same, but on a far grander scale? It didn't sound overly painful.
The Durothil name—and its deep contributions to the school – opened the door for both him and Princess Cheren. Of course he made no mention of a beautiful and tragic human princess to his family. That would only complicate things. Dread anything besmirch the Durothil name, no no… The matron seemed relieved that he finally decided to make something of himself. Arkadio, on the other hand… Waterdeep wine is such swill, after all.