Post by Dogrim Bloodaxe on Aug 8, 2012 16:25:18 GMT -8
Basic info
Name: Tristan Aleona
Age: 23
Race: Half-Elf
Height: 5’10"
Weight: 165 lbs
Personality: Tristan is usually even tempered, friendly and tends to make a lot of jokes.
Most of the time he gives off a carefree demeanor. However, he does have his moments when he is serious, in which case he can be one of the most cynical bastards around. When he is angry his demeanor turns cold, only ever raising his voice slightly. When he is very angry, his voice becomes more of a booming growl. This is a very rare occurrence but its rarity makes the anger seem even more dramatic. Those who know him know to shut up when this is happening.
Despite his carefree demeanor, he refuses to shy away from a challenge and as a youth found himself in many fights, most likely due to parts of his upbringing.
Tristan is very resourceful and a quick thinker, which is good because he does not have the largest of builds. Rather than use brute force, Tristan fights using clever ploys and tactics and well placed blows. He distrusts many people, but not openly. This is to his advantage in the sense that it allows him to think about how he would fight someone before he has to.
He loves setting up the field of battle in his favor and playing off of people’s weaknesses, but if necessary he can still put up a good fight without all the preparation... but who would want to do that willingly?
Physical description: Tristan straight brown hair that parts in the middle and the back and sides are kept short and neat for the most part. Most half elves hide their ears, but Tristan makes a point of showing off his elven ancestry. His eyes are golden-yellow, like those of a hawk. He wears a short, well trimmed beard along his jawline, keeping the chin hairs longer than the sides He tends to have a bit of 5’0clock shadow but never lets a moustache grow. (He finds that ladies love the fuzz, but not on their lips.) He keeps his goatee well groomed, and refuses to shave it off entirely. Again, this has to do with part of his upbringing.
He is 5’10”, and has the lean build of an elf. His facial features however are harsh like those of a human. He has a narrow nose, ruddy cheeks and unlike elves that like to keep their skin like alabaster, he normally has a bit of a rugged look. He also has a scar going across his nose that covers the distance between both ends of his eyes.
Back story: Tristan and his sister Isabelle were born to the elven ambassador Aelle Aleona and his human bride Rose whom he met while visiting the human city of Breymoore. After learning Rose was pregnant, the two decided to stop traveling, at least until the children were old enough for trekking. It had just so happened that they had been in the Dwarven City of Sturmhalla. The dwarves, whom Aelle had visited before, were more than happy to help their old friend and his bride. So it was that Tristan and his sister were born to a human commoner and elven noble, so that they may be raised amongst dwarves. As a child, Tristan learned all about crafting, smithing, and when his parents left him alone with his dwarven god-father Korgin, a little bit of drinking. His father taught him how to fence using a rapier, the dwarves taught him how to twist minerals and herbs to make explosive materials and how to properly care for weapons. Though is was tradition for an elven noble to receive what they considered a “proper” education, there was little time for it, and as a traveler, Aelle felt life would be the best teacher.
When he was 8, he was given his first dagger, fitted with a chain that strapped to his wrist and forged by non other than Korgin. These were the best years of young Tristan’s life. When he was 5 his younger sister Rose was born, and being the only two children around, grew to be as close as brother and sister could be. Unfortunately, duty called for Aelle and one day when Tristan was 12 the family had to leave.
As a parting gift the dwarves gave Aelle a sword crafted in the style of the elves but sturdy as any good dwarven weapon should be, and enchanted by one of the most potent runes of protection they had.
As the elf-human family left, the dwarves had no idea that would be the last time they would be seen as a family.
On the way to Aelle’s hometown they were attacked by bandits. Aelle fought ferociously to protect his family, and the sword did more than he could have hoped. But in the end, Aelle simply was not prepared enough to deal with the ambush. He died before slaying the last two bandits.
It was at this point that Tristan unexpectedly became the man of the family. With a quick prayer to Helsing, he threw one of his home made smoke bombs. His mother wasted no time in picking up Isabella and running, sure that Tristan was behind her.
But Tristan was in no mood for running. He felt Helsing’s call inside him. The call for victory, revenge, and nothing less. It didn’t take long for him to maneuver around behind the first attacker and slit his throat, but the second bandit was too experienced to let such a predictable maneuver work, and his foot found the young half-elf’s chest.
Tristan fell back, and landed right next to his father’s cold body.
As the bandit approached Tristan’s frantic hand grasped the hilt of his father’s sword and swung it. The attack was ill timed and the bandit laughed before thrusting his blade at the youth.
But the savage point never came. There was a clang and the blade bounced off of a crackling wall.
Tristan wasted no time thrusting his blade into the bandit’s chest. As he pulled it out, the bandit looked down shocked. Around the wound were little barbs of the crackling energy as the wall.
It was dark by the time Tristan found his mother and sister. The two were panicked and fussed over him. His mother scolded him never to do such a thing again. That it was foolish and he could have been killed.
“Yes mother”, was all he could say. He didn’t have the heart to say that he had killed the remaining bandits. To tell his mother that her little boy had taken his first lives.
The high elves would not take Rose in, but they offered to find fosters for Isabelle and Tristan. The children refused adamantly, and the family moved to the city of Durmstalt. It wasn’t much of a home. Crime was rampant, guards were corrupt, and many of the citizens frowned upon half-elves, but Rose had family here. Family that did not mind that she was estranged from her mother and father.
In time the city began to accept the children as their own. As a child Tristan found himself in many fights. And the first few he lost given his small stature. It didn’t take long for Tristan to learn how to use his brains against there brawn though. And soon he was unbeatable. Earning himself quite the reputation.
Isabelle never needed to try to earn her reputation. No one could ever say a bad thing about her. She was a healer, and a complete joy to be around. To the people who knew her, she was the paragon of innocence and beauty. Everyone loved her, except for Elron, the town guard.
The red haired, pock marked, racist guard was considered even by the most hardened thieves to be scum. Assault on women was rampant in the town, and it was no surprise that he was the one who was behind most of the cases.
One night,when Tristan was still coming home with more bruises than he had given, Elron drunkely stumbled in to their home and began demanding the ludest of acts from Rose. She refused and he struck her. She would not give in. So he turned his attention to Isabelle.
He took one step towards her and found Tristan’s dagger in his leg and his hateful glare leering at him.
Elron punched Tristan square in the jaw and knocked him back before drawing his sword and slicing him across the face.
Tristan however noticed that Elron had a very poor choice of foot placement.
With a shake of his wrist Tristan wrapped the chain of his blade around Elron’s foot and pulled hard, making the guard fall flat on his back.
Tristan seized the opportunity, jumping up and pressing his dagger to the guard’s throat.
His eyes burned as the blood dripped from his face.
“Never come back,” growled the boy.
Elron was allowed up and left, but that was not the last of him. From that day forward Tristan carried his dagger, and his father’s sword with him wherever he went.
Tristan found work as a courier in the town. At least that was his title. He would deliver messages and packages from time to time. But most of his work was for the thieves guild. Looting houses in the noble district (who, lets face it, deserved to be looted) and occasionally escorting people with valuable information. It paid well, and in exchange the thieves guild offered protection for Isabelle. A necessity after Rose passed away.
One day, years after the incident with Elron, Tristan came home to see Isabelle with a cool cloth to get face.
“What happened?” he asked.
She didn’t have to say anything.
He knew who was behind it.
Elron had made it a point to make the family’s life miserable after having been so thoroughly humiliated. He would ban people from trading with them, which would have worked had the thieves guild not stepped forward, admitting their soft spot for the boy who beat the guard.
By now, Tristan was done putting up with it. To attack passively was one thing, but to directly assault his sister. That was unforgivable.
He turned around to leave, and his sister stopped him.
“Where are you going?”
“To deal with this. Permanently.”
Isabelle wasn’t a fan of Tristan’s criminal career, but she knew its necessity. She knew she had no choice but to trust her older brother and over the years after many arguments there was only one request she ever made.
“Whatever you do,” she sniffed, “Don’t die.”
As Elron strutted the streets that night he felt the same way he always did. Untouchable.
He made to turn a corner but found himself blocked by a crackling wall of energy.
He made to turn the other way, but couldn’t.
Just as panic began to set it, smoke began to fill the area.
Coughing he stumbled around, running blindly wherever the walls would allow him.
When he finally came free of the smoke, he stumbled out into a dead end a block from where he had started.
He coughed and sputtered, trying to catch his breath. The smoke had made him dizzy, and his head was hurting.
“What’s wrong Elron?” came a voice, “Can’t handle smoke as well as you handle your drink?”
The guard’s blurred vision began to focus a little and he could make out the outline of the pointed eared figure.
“Dagger ear bastard,” the guard coughed.
“That’s not very nice, but then again, it beats being a fire-crotched, pock-faced invalid with a face even a mother would throw in a fire.... Not that she’d be one to talk. Guy as ugly as you? Your mother must have been hideous.”
“You,” he coughed, “you shut the hell up.”
“Why don’t you make me?”
“You’re asking for another scar,” said the guard.
“You’re asking for more rumors about how I kicked your ass.”
Elron drew his sword and attacked in utter rage, exactly as Tristan had hoped.
He dodged and parried, landing smaller cuts as he riposted.
After ten minutes of being cut and bled without landing any hits, Elron collapsed.
“I give up,” he said.
“So you’re ugly and a coward? No substance at all!”
“Just shut up and leave me alone,” said Elron.
“No can do.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Isabelle,” said Tristan, “I told you years ago to never come back. I suppose I should have said to leave us alone.”
“Fine, I will,just let me go,” said the guard.
“Too little, too late,” said Tristan.
He sword plunged in to the guard’s heart, stopping it forever.
Life was good for years after that, until one day, a wizard came to town...
Ability Scores
In a role playing environment, vagueness leads to God-Modding, and/or arguments. That’s why we have a simple trait system.
Of the choices in each row, you are allowed to divide scores up between the number in the column, but you must follow the standards for minimum point in each column ex:
(7 total, minimum 1) Strength, Speed, Accuracy.
Attack(7 minimum 1): Strength 1, Speed 3, Accuracy 3
Defense (5 minimum 1): Tough 2 or Quick 3
Toughness refers to how much of a beating your character can take. Quick refers to them being able to avoid strikes all together.
Defense (5 minimum 1): Physical 3 or magic.2
Thinking (7 minimum 1):
Book learning:1 Worldly: 3 (+1) Common Sense: 3
Weapons:
Mage scores refer to their proficiency within each art. Their effectiveness is linked to the attack section above.
Magic (mages only! 10 minimum 2): Healing: Attacking: Barriers:
Melee(10 minimum 2): Heavy 2 Light 5 Ranged 3
Tiered techniques/feats:
Your character will of course have special abilities of course, divided in to tiers.
Tier 1:
refers to passive abilities/racial traits. Each character may start with 2 passives in addition to passives given by racial bonus.
Racial bonuses:
Agility: (Satyr, Elf of any type/ human option): Basic agility, giving them access to simple acrobatic stunts and battle maneuverability.
Charismatic: (half elf/human option): your character is very easy to get along with an has a certain... allure about them.
Fast Hands: Tristan can pull his weapons out and use them almost simultaneously, and not just from his own pockets, if you know what I mean. (Hint: He’s a thief)
Situational Awareness: Between his father’s ambush, years of working as a thief and always needing to use more brain than brawn Tristan has developed a 6th sense for danger, allowing him to notice traps, ambush set ups and weaknesses in armor.
Tier 2:
Chain dagger: The chain is 6 feet long, and the dagger’s guard is shaped like a grappling hook so he can use it to catch on to things and hang out a bit.
Smoke bomb: Basic smoke bomb, covers up to 10 square feet with smoke, excessive inhalation can cause fatigue, dizziness and lots of coughing. (limit 5 before having to make more during rest time, last 2 minutes each)
throwing knives: Simple blades, easy to craft. Limit 5 per day. Can be picked up an reused.
hide armor: some extra protection so Tristan doesn’t get killed too quickly.
fire flask: Flask filled with a fiery explosion of chemicals (5 foot radius). Also, before the triggered makes for one hell of a drink that can knock even a dwarf on his arse. (Limit 3 per rest)
Tier 3:
Thorn(sword of protection):(unbreakable, obviously) Creates barriers that protect from spells and physical attacks of moderate strength (reasonable punch/magic missile/arrow. Basic attack will break it but there won’t be any momentum.), or leaves “thorns” (similar to barrier but more dense so they don’t just crumble, they must be removed) behind cuts. Anyone who is not Tristan that wields it will receive thorns to the hand. Very painful. (Limit 5 barriers per day. Barriers can be up to 6’ by 6’, anything more counts as multiple barrier. Barriers last for 5 minutes each or until broken) Barrier’s can also be used as stepping stones.
This sword was made by dwarves but crafted to be styled like an elvish rapier. The blade is 2.5 feet long, the bottom half is straight and juts out into a sharp curve before straightening again at at the tip. It is double edged and the blade itself is about 2.5 inches wide. There is an intricately designed silver handguard to protect Tristans hand, the grip is wrapped with some kind of green leather or hide and it has a pommel shaped like Helsing’s hammer.
Flicker: Tristan’s blade move really quickly dealing a series of 5 fast, accurate cuts with his dagger and sword (each) within 3 seconds. (limit 5 per rest, 5 minute cooldown)
Tier 4:
Vendetta: Tristan creates up to 5 barriers (only 2 at a time) These barriers are similar to the tier 3 barriers, however they can be used offensively. In this case the barriers are larger but have prism surface. When Tristan thrusts his sword through one barrier, it comes out of the prisms. (Portal style). This technique is especially effective when used as a trap and/or combined with flicker.
Name: Tristan Aleona
Age: 23
Race: Half-Elf
Height: 5’10"
Weight: 165 lbs
Personality: Tristan is usually even tempered, friendly and tends to make a lot of jokes.
Most of the time he gives off a carefree demeanor. However, he does have his moments when he is serious, in which case he can be one of the most cynical bastards around. When he is angry his demeanor turns cold, only ever raising his voice slightly. When he is very angry, his voice becomes more of a booming growl. This is a very rare occurrence but its rarity makes the anger seem even more dramatic. Those who know him know to shut up when this is happening.
Despite his carefree demeanor, he refuses to shy away from a challenge and as a youth found himself in many fights, most likely due to parts of his upbringing.
Tristan is very resourceful and a quick thinker, which is good because he does not have the largest of builds. Rather than use brute force, Tristan fights using clever ploys and tactics and well placed blows. He distrusts many people, but not openly. This is to his advantage in the sense that it allows him to think about how he would fight someone before he has to.
He loves setting up the field of battle in his favor and playing off of people’s weaknesses, but if necessary he can still put up a good fight without all the preparation... but who would want to do that willingly?
Physical description: Tristan straight brown hair that parts in the middle and the back and sides are kept short and neat for the most part. Most half elves hide their ears, but Tristan makes a point of showing off his elven ancestry. His eyes are golden-yellow, like those of a hawk. He wears a short, well trimmed beard along his jawline, keeping the chin hairs longer than the sides He tends to have a bit of 5’0clock shadow but never lets a moustache grow. (He finds that ladies love the fuzz, but not on their lips.) He keeps his goatee well groomed, and refuses to shave it off entirely. Again, this has to do with part of his upbringing.
He is 5’10”, and has the lean build of an elf. His facial features however are harsh like those of a human. He has a narrow nose, ruddy cheeks and unlike elves that like to keep their skin like alabaster, he normally has a bit of a rugged look. He also has a scar going across his nose that covers the distance between both ends of his eyes.
Back story: Tristan and his sister Isabelle were born to the elven ambassador Aelle Aleona and his human bride Rose whom he met while visiting the human city of Breymoore. After learning Rose was pregnant, the two decided to stop traveling, at least until the children were old enough for trekking. It had just so happened that they had been in the Dwarven City of Sturmhalla. The dwarves, whom Aelle had visited before, were more than happy to help their old friend and his bride. So it was that Tristan and his sister were born to a human commoner and elven noble, so that they may be raised amongst dwarves. As a child, Tristan learned all about crafting, smithing, and when his parents left him alone with his dwarven god-father Korgin, a little bit of drinking. His father taught him how to fence using a rapier, the dwarves taught him how to twist minerals and herbs to make explosive materials and how to properly care for weapons. Though is was tradition for an elven noble to receive what they considered a “proper” education, there was little time for it, and as a traveler, Aelle felt life would be the best teacher.
When he was 8, he was given his first dagger, fitted with a chain that strapped to his wrist and forged by non other than Korgin. These were the best years of young Tristan’s life. When he was 5 his younger sister Rose was born, and being the only two children around, grew to be as close as brother and sister could be. Unfortunately, duty called for Aelle and one day when Tristan was 12 the family had to leave.
As a parting gift the dwarves gave Aelle a sword crafted in the style of the elves but sturdy as any good dwarven weapon should be, and enchanted by one of the most potent runes of protection they had.
As the elf-human family left, the dwarves had no idea that would be the last time they would be seen as a family.
On the way to Aelle’s hometown they were attacked by bandits. Aelle fought ferociously to protect his family, and the sword did more than he could have hoped. But in the end, Aelle simply was not prepared enough to deal with the ambush. He died before slaying the last two bandits.
It was at this point that Tristan unexpectedly became the man of the family. With a quick prayer to Helsing, he threw one of his home made smoke bombs. His mother wasted no time in picking up Isabella and running, sure that Tristan was behind her.
But Tristan was in no mood for running. He felt Helsing’s call inside him. The call for victory, revenge, and nothing less. It didn’t take long for him to maneuver around behind the first attacker and slit his throat, but the second bandit was too experienced to let such a predictable maneuver work, and his foot found the young half-elf’s chest.
Tristan fell back, and landed right next to his father’s cold body.
As the bandit approached Tristan’s frantic hand grasped the hilt of his father’s sword and swung it. The attack was ill timed and the bandit laughed before thrusting his blade at the youth.
But the savage point never came. There was a clang and the blade bounced off of a crackling wall.
Tristan wasted no time thrusting his blade into the bandit’s chest. As he pulled it out, the bandit looked down shocked. Around the wound were little barbs of the crackling energy as the wall.
It was dark by the time Tristan found his mother and sister. The two were panicked and fussed over him. His mother scolded him never to do such a thing again. That it was foolish and he could have been killed.
“Yes mother”, was all he could say. He didn’t have the heart to say that he had killed the remaining bandits. To tell his mother that her little boy had taken his first lives.
The high elves would not take Rose in, but they offered to find fosters for Isabelle and Tristan. The children refused adamantly, and the family moved to the city of Durmstalt. It wasn’t much of a home. Crime was rampant, guards were corrupt, and many of the citizens frowned upon half-elves, but Rose had family here. Family that did not mind that she was estranged from her mother and father.
In time the city began to accept the children as their own. As a child Tristan found himself in many fights. And the first few he lost given his small stature. It didn’t take long for Tristan to learn how to use his brains against there brawn though. And soon he was unbeatable. Earning himself quite the reputation.
Isabelle never needed to try to earn her reputation. No one could ever say a bad thing about her. She was a healer, and a complete joy to be around. To the people who knew her, she was the paragon of innocence and beauty. Everyone loved her, except for Elron, the town guard.
The red haired, pock marked, racist guard was considered even by the most hardened thieves to be scum. Assault on women was rampant in the town, and it was no surprise that he was the one who was behind most of the cases.
One night,when Tristan was still coming home with more bruises than he had given, Elron drunkely stumbled in to their home and began demanding the ludest of acts from Rose. She refused and he struck her. She would not give in. So he turned his attention to Isabelle.
He took one step towards her and found Tristan’s dagger in his leg and his hateful glare leering at him.
Elron punched Tristan square in the jaw and knocked him back before drawing his sword and slicing him across the face.
Tristan however noticed that Elron had a very poor choice of foot placement.
With a shake of his wrist Tristan wrapped the chain of his blade around Elron’s foot and pulled hard, making the guard fall flat on his back.
Tristan seized the opportunity, jumping up and pressing his dagger to the guard’s throat.
His eyes burned as the blood dripped from his face.
“Never come back,” growled the boy.
Elron was allowed up and left, but that was not the last of him. From that day forward Tristan carried his dagger, and his father’s sword with him wherever he went.
Tristan found work as a courier in the town. At least that was his title. He would deliver messages and packages from time to time. But most of his work was for the thieves guild. Looting houses in the noble district (who, lets face it, deserved to be looted) and occasionally escorting people with valuable information. It paid well, and in exchange the thieves guild offered protection for Isabelle. A necessity after Rose passed away.
One day, years after the incident with Elron, Tristan came home to see Isabelle with a cool cloth to get face.
“What happened?” he asked.
She didn’t have to say anything.
He knew who was behind it.
Elron had made it a point to make the family’s life miserable after having been so thoroughly humiliated. He would ban people from trading with them, which would have worked had the thieves guild not stepped forward, admitting their soft spot for the boy who beat the guard.
By now, Tristan was done putting up with it. To attack passively was one thing, but to directly assault his sister. That was unforgivable.
He turned around to leave, and his sister stopped him.
“Where are you going?”
“To deal with this. Permanently.”
Isabelle wasn’t a fan of Tristan’s criminal career, but she knew its necessity. She knew she had no choice but to trust her older brother and over the years after many arguments there was only one request she ever made.
“Whatever you do,” she sniffed, “Don’t die.”
As Elron strutted the streets that night he felt the same way he always did. Untouchable.
He made to turn a corner but found himself blocked by a crackling wall of energy.
He made to turn the other way, but couldn’t.
Just as panic began to set it, smoke began to fill the area.
Coughing he stumbled around, running blindly wherever the walls would allow him.
When he finally came free of the smoke, he stumbled out into a dead end a block from where he had started.
He coughed and sputtered, trying to catch his breath. The smoke had made him dizzy, and his head was hurting.
“What’s wrong Elron?” came a voice, “Can’t handle smoke as well as you handle your drink?”
The guard’s blurred vision began to focus a little and he could make out the outline of the pointed eared figure.
“Dagger ear bastard,” the guard coughed.
“That’s not very nice, but then again, it beats being a fire-crotched, pock-faced invalid with a face even a mother would throw in a fire.... Not that she’d be one to talk. Guy as ugly as you? Your mother must have been hideous.”
“You,” he coughed, “you shut the hell up.”
“Why don’t you make me?”
“You’re asking for another scar,” said the guard.
“You’re asking for more rumors about how I kicked your ass.”
Elron drew his sword and attacked in utter rage, exactly as Tristan had hoped.
He dodged and parried, landing smaller cuts as he riposted.
After ten minutes of being cut and bled without landing any hits, Elron collapsed.
“I give up,” he said.
“So you’re ugly and a coward? No substance at all!”
“Just shut up and leave me alone,” said Elron.
“No can do.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Isabelle,” said Tristan, “I told you years ago to never come back. I suppose I should have said to leave us alone.”
“Fine, I will,just let me go,” said the guard.
“Too little, too late,” said Tristan.
He sword plunged in to the guard’s heart, stopping it forever.
Life was good for years after that, until one day, a wizard came to town...
Ability Scores
In a role playing environment, vagueness leads to God-Modding, and/or arguments. That’s why we have a simple trait system.
Of the choices in each row, you are allowed to divide scores up between the number in the column, but you must follow the standards for minimum point in each column ex:
(7 total, minimum 1) Strength, Speed, Accuracy.
Attack(7 minimum 1): Strength 1, Speed 3, Accuracy 3
Defense (5 minimum 1): Tough 2 or Quick 3
Toughness refers to how much of a beating your character can take. Quick refers to them being able to avoid strikes all together.
Defense (5 minimum 1): Physical 3 or magic.2
Thinking (7 minimum 1):
Book learning:1 Worldly: 3 (+1) Common Sense: 3
Weapons:
Mage scores refer to their proficiency within each art. Their effectiveness is linked to the attack section above.
Magic (mages only! 10 minimum 2): Healing: Attacking: Barriers:
Melee(10 minimum 2): Heavy 2 Light 5 Ranged 3
Tiered techniques/feats:
Your character will of course have special abilities of course, divided in to tiers.
Tier 1:
refers to passive abilities/racial traits. Each character may start with 2 passives in addition to passives given by racial bonus.
Racial bonuses:
Agility: (Satyr, Elf of any type/ human option): Basic agility, giving them access to simple acrobatic stunts and battle maneuverability.
Charismatic: (half elf/human option): your character is very easy to get along with an has a certain... allure about them.
Fast Hands: Tristan can pull his weapons out and use them almost simultaneously, and not just from his own pockets, if you know what I mean. (Hint: He’s a thief)
Situational Awareness: Between his father’s ambush, years of working as a thief and always needing to use more brain than brawn Tristan has developed a 6th sense for danger, allowing him to notice traps, ambush set ups and weaknesses in armor.
Tier 2:
Chain dagger: The chain is 6 feet long, and the dagger’s guard is shaped like a grappling hook so he can use it to catch on to things and hang out a bit.
Smoke bomb: Basic smoke bomb, covers up to 10 square feet with smoke, excessive inhalation can cause fatigue, dizziness and lots of coughing. (limit 5 before having to make more during rest time, last 2 minutes each)
throwing knives: Simple blades, easy to craft. Limit 5 per day. Can be picked up an reused.
hide armor: some extra protection so Tristan doesn’t get killed too quickly.
fire flask: Flask filled with a fiery explosion of chemicals (5 foot radius). Also, before the triggered makes for one hell of a drink that can knock even a dwarf on his arse. (Limit 3 per rest)
Tier 3:
Thorn(sword of protection):(unbreakable, obviously) Creates barriers that protect from spells and physical attacks of moderate strength (reasonable punch/magic missile/arrow. Basic attack will break it but there won’t be any momentum.), or leaves “thorns” (similar to barrier but more dense so they don’t just crumble, they must be removed) behind cuts. Anyone who is not Tristan that wields it will receive thorns to the hand. Very painful. (Limit 5 barriers per day. Barriers can be up to 6’ by 6’, anything more counts as multiple barrier. Barriers last for 5 minutes each or until broken) Barrier’s can also be used as stepping stones.
This sword was made by dwarves but crafted to be styled like an elvish rapier. The blade is 2.5 feet long, the bottom half is straight and juts out into a sharp curve before straightening again at at the tip. It is double edged and the blade itself is about 2.5 inches wide. There is an intricately designed silver handguard to protect Tristans hand, the grip is wrapped with some kind of green leather or hide and it has a pommel shaped like Helsing’s hammer.
Flicker: Tristan’s blade move really quickly dealing a series of 5 fast, accurate cuts with his dagger and sword (each) within 3 seconds. (limit 5 per rest, 5 minute cooldown)
Tier 4:
Vendetta: Tristan creates up to 5 barriers (only 2 at a time) These barriers are similar to the tier 3 barriers, however they can be used offensively. In this case the barriers are larger but have prism surface. When Tristan thrusts his sword through one barrier, it comes out of the prisms. (Portal style). This technique is especially effective when used as a trap and/or combined with flicker.