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Ari-Logan Askew

"Unless you want to be burned beyond recognition, leave me to my studies."

0 · 432 views · located in The Sword Coast

a character in “Seasons of the Lich”, as played by AlienKhan

Description

Ari-Logan Askew

Image


n a m e s a k e :
¬ Full |birth| Name: Ari-Logan Askew
¬ Spoken |used| Name: Askew
¬ Acquired |aliases| Names: No Agnomen yet

n u m e r i c a l :
¬ Appearing Age: 36
¬ Factual Age: 25

s o c i o l o g i c a l :
¬ Class: Sorcerer
¬ Profession: Student
¬ Alignment: Chaotic Evil
¬ Marital Status: Single

b i o l o g i c a l :
¬ Height: 5’9”
¬ Weight: 140lbs
¬ Hair: Obsidian
¬ Eye: Crimson
¬ Skin: Dry and Pale
¬ Body Art: Mana Channeling tattoos on the face that appear when magic is used
¬ Scar Tissue: Magical burns in various places, mostly on the arms and hands.

¬ Genetics: From Waterdeep, born and raised.
¬ Race: Human
¬ Attributes: Nothing Superhuman
¬ Immunity: Nothing Superhuman

m e n t a l l i t y:
¬ Demeanour: Very very studious; Lack of regard for others’ safety; A coward when bravery is not needed to further his own goals, brave elsewhere.
¬ Tendencies: Rather Introverted; Generally not charismatic, somewhat intimidating.

a r s e n a l:
¬ Offence: Staff of Magic Missile
-- type: Melee
-- paragon: Willow base, Silver handle and trim, with an Obsidian Stone on the top
-- enchantments: Continually casts Magic Missile
-- other: It was Ari’s first staff, he’s rather attached to it.

¬ Offence: Bow of True Shot
-- type: Ranged
-- paragon: Willow base, Silver handle and trim, much like his staff
-- enchantments: Though Ari is certainly not the most famed yeoman, this bow has a way of striking its mark, sometimes even against the will of Ari himself!
-- other: This bow was found in a tomb curiously sealed with magic which Ari was investigating. No bodies inside, nothing at all in there, really. Just that bow and three rings. For whatever reason, it seems to be cursed with a mind of its own and will sometimes fire an arrow away from where Ari intended. Also, it has a way of getting back to Ari, even when lost. He never figured out what the rings do, if they do anything at all. They have a certain magical aura about them, though.

¬ Defence: Robes of the Light
-- type: Robe
-- paragon: Cloth
-- enchantments: Glows dull blue to the person wearing it if undead are near. Also provides simple protection against negative energy

b a t t l e c l a d:
¬ Upper Body:
¬ Full Body: Robes of the Light
¬ Head: Crown of the Mage (Copper Circlet, with green stone, aids in concentration)
¬ Arms:
¬ Waist: Cloth Belt, with a bunch of pouches for herbs and potions
¬ Feet:

a t t i r e :
¬ Casual
¬ Feet: Cloth Shoes
¬ Legs: Cloth Leggings
¬ Hands: Cloth gloves, three rings whose function he has no idea.
¬ Upper Body: A short pack which slings down his side.

p r o f i c e n c y :

Longbow
Staff

a c c e s s o r i e s :

Crown of the Mage – Copper Circlet which aids in concentration
Three rings, whose function he has no idea

[/i]

s p e l l s:

Burning Hands
Shield
Explosive Pyre
Mirror Image
Invisibility

So begins...

Ari-Logan Askew's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: The Crowcatcher Character Portrait: Ari-Logan Askew
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Thwack! shot the longbow, the arrow whizzing through the air, and with a Thump!, it hit a tree.

“I swear I’ll…” Thwack! Thump! “….burn you if you get me lost again like this.”

The Sorcerer stood with his bow, another arrow pulled from his quiver and poised at the ready. The man wasn’t very tall; in fact, he was just about average height. His build was also average, though it was obvious that whatever did not make him skinny sure wasn’t muscle. Any other features that the man had were obscured by his long blue robes, which were trimmed by various interweaving designs. The robes seemed a little long for him, as its hem glided along the floor with each step. Strangely enough, it was not torn in any way, as one would expect something dangling so precariously on the floor. With that realization in mind, one would naturally look towards the rest of the robe for any sign of wear-and-tear, but alas! to no avail!

Thwack! Thump! Another shaft flew. By this time the Sorcerer had reached the first arrow he had let fly, which was stuck in a large ash tree. He pulled it out and stuck it back into his quiver. From the disarray of arrows in the surrounding woodland, one would assume that either this man was a terrible yeoman, not worthy of even holding the bow in his hand, or he simply did not aim.

“We’ve been here before, damn it! This tree is already marked by your kiss! I swear I’ll burn you….”

He sheathed the bow behind his back and went about collecting the loose arrows scattered about the forest. Reaching the last one, his gaze drifted upwards towards the smoke of a fire. “I’ll be damned…” He swore, sporting a mischievous grin which exemplified his large canines.


“You were right after a-” He said, in a grateful tone, which was cut off by a more angered one, “You bitch! Why’d I go in a circle then?”

As there was no one around to hear him, silence was his reply. He trudged along groggily, mumbling every so often. Behind him the sun was just rising, and he sighed loudly. What started as a short trip to satisfy certain bodily needs turned into a whole night of running about in confusion. Remarkably he had been going in circles the entire time, swearing loudly.

“I hate you…” he mumbled as he stepped within the borders of the camp.




The sight he saw there did him no good, either. He saw the black head of their conniving leader, and it made him shiver. That figure came from the shadowy reaches of Talos-knows-what, and was addressing the party, excluding our Sorcerer of course. He was saying something, though few words truly passed into the magician’s ear. The Crowcatcher, as the leader was known, was giving orders pertaining to some caravan, which was ambushed by bandits and needed unburdening of its children… or something. Our sorcerer also noted that the paladin, of all people, was to be their leader.

In a flash of smoke, as it was, Crow disappeared, and the sorcerer could be seen stumbling behind him.

“I missed the orders because of you,” he said aside. “I swear I’ll burn you, or my name isn’t Ari-Logan Askew!”

The setting changes from Faerun to The Sword Coast

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Uglúk the Ugly Character Portrait: Ari-Logan Askew Character Portrait: Balthazar Character Portrait: Araina Narthanellyn Character Portrait: Johnathan (Illumination)
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#, as written by Celedia
-=Araina=-

Events unfolded at the camp once more. Some of the recruits left, whether because the task itself proved insurmountable to them or their employer filled them with distaste was left unknown. Yet just as swiftly as people exited the camp, more people seemed to file into it. Perhaps this was all a part of the Crow’s game? Placing pieces of the puzzle together in separate ways until he created a picture that he wanted? With the last of the members entering the clearing, in a rather prominent way, the elven druidess averted her eyes and turned to enter the woods.

And so the merry band made their way through the forest in the general direction of the Coast Way. Apprehension flooded the druidess’ lithe body. Despite her off the cuff and almost condescendingly aloof remarks about heading to a human city, the elf was actually affected by the thought of leaving nature. She had spent her entire life without entering the man made stone and steel creations that humans prided them selves on but now her path led her directly through the very things she despised.

If she were a more sociable creature she might try to befriend one of her traveling companions and tell them her fears to ease her mind, yet her innate hostility towards all other races prevented that from happening. There were no friends of nature in this ragtag band with the exception of the Ranger who had fled into the woods on her steed as soon as the party started moving. Whether she had decided that she was unable to deal with their newfound allies or if she was simply taking another path through the woods, Araina couldn’t be sure.

As they moved, the druidess hung back to take up the rear. In part, because she wanted to stay in her haven until the very last possible second and also, so she could observe the newest members- the bard, the sorcerer, the assassin, and the barbarian. Intriguing men, all of them, in their different ways but she stayed observant until her keen sense of hearing picked up the sound of voices in the distance and at the same time, the foliage broke way to open plains and a winding dirt road.

Within sight yet quite a fair walking distance north, her eyes could pick out a caravan moving slowly onwards. Their smaller group could easily gain on the gypsies if they were to pick up their pace.