Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction purely created for non-profit entertainment purposes. I do not claim to own Zero no Tsukaima, its characters, its world, or its official storyline; nor do I claim to own Dungeons & Dragons, its characters, or its world. The only things I own are the Noble Chapter and the OCs and the organizations that I have made and presented. Please support the official releases, because they're awesome.
Chapter One: I am…
"We are Sturdy like our walls,
We will never fall.
We are Blades that meet our foes,
We will fell them all.
We stand firm, for we are Steel.
Our wills will never bend.
We are Strong, for we are Masons.
We are Noble until the end!"
-A House Mason war chant for their Noble Blade Knights.
A triumphant cry echoed through the glade as the body of the dragon fell to the ground. We had just successfully baited and ambushed the red dragon that had claimed a newly established section of highway as part of its territory. However, this victory was not without cost. Five of our fifteen men fell to the beast's flames and fangs while three more are severely wounded. Our healers scramble to and fro, reforming the flesh of the wounded and gathering the bodies of the dead.
I brush off the errant embers that found their way onto the blue robes of my Noble mage-plate armor, the steel made translucent as a side-effect of a magical enchantment. The Nobles who fell by fire were the ones that believed that staying far away from the dragon was safe and the ones who were unfortunate enough to be caught in the way. I am singed in some places and sore all over; I've had numerous close calls throughout the entire battle. Had I been a foot taller… I quickly shake my head free of such thoughts as I struggle to remove my halberd from its thick, scaly neck.
"Oi, Little Mountain!" called the cheerful but exhausted voice of Tyavel. Ah Tyavel, what an absolute pain in the ass he is. He is a Noble from the elven order of Duskblades—a fellow Spellblade of our chapter, who artfully mixes magic prowess with martial might. However, he is still an elf, so he's naturally aloof, arrogant, and completely irresponsible. Although that may be the dwarf in me talking, it doesn't change the fact that it's completely true. "Caught in a pinch?"
"Is that not a bit obvious?" I spit, punctuating each word with another grunt of effort. 'Oh, wonderful,' I inwardly groan, 'all the good men who burned today, and this buffoon comes out unscathed.'
The elf rounds the fallen dragon while waving his ever-present wand, cleaning the filth from his robed armor and grooming his slightly over pampered brown hair. "I was talking about you, not your axe," He laughs, much to my chagrin. "Well, I guess that's what happens when you try to wield a weapon with a head that's bigger than yours!" I halt my efforts, lift my visor, and glare up at him as I wait for him to finish chortling at his own joke.
A couple of moments later, he regains his composure. Now only letting out an occasional chuckle, he replaces his open-faced helmet and checks himself in his mirror, apparently liking what he sees. I clear my throat to bring attention to my situation that's apparently not worth his attention. "A bit of assistance, please?"
"Ah, I was wondering when you were going to ask," the fop draws his longsword and uses it to pry open the wound, allowing me to recover my weapon.
Giving him a grunt one part appreciation and two parts annoyance, I briskly moved away in order to retrieve my preferred arms, my dwarven axe and my Noble steel shield, that had been forcibly removed from my person in the heat of battle.
I set myself down on a small boulder and prepare one of my own cantrips to clean off my equipment when my familiar, a cat-sized dragon, jumped onto my lap with what appeared to be some sort of glimmering blue gem. "I've located the dragon's lair, brother. Its hoard is massive!" her small, scratchy voice rings in my mind.
My expression brightens as I feel her excitement wash over me. "Well done, Werabela!" I praised as I massaged the scales under her jaw affectionately. Over time, I learned that the trick to keeping a psuedodragon familiar is to treat it like a cat—they both behave in very similar fashions I've noticed (pompous attitude, likes attention, has no qualms about breaking your pottery, etc.), you just need to get used to your cat having telepathy. "I think that you've just earned us the right to indulge in some luxury once we return to our clan hold," I winked conspiratorially.
Werabela rasps out a content purr at my ministrations. "Oh yes…" she mentally sighed, "Oh I hope you use those special bath salts. The ones that feels really good on my spines." Ohoho~ look at her trying to milk me for all that I can give. Isn't that absolutely adorable?
"Yes, I'll make sure to buy some when we ride back. In fact…," I lean in to whisper, as though I were sharing some dark secret, "I may just even throw in one of those wing massages you love so much." I practically had to strangle myself to contain my laughter as she starts chirping with desire.
"Whoa, that's kind of creepy." Ah, there it goes. Werabela hisses at Tyavel's typically poor interruption. Her glare never leaves him as she scales the braids of my beard, eventually reaching her destination and draping herself over my shoulders. "What? It truly is. You pamper her like a young wife!"
"Sans romance, isn't that essentially what a familiar contract is?" His only response was a raised eyebrow and a curious frown. With a sigh, I decide that it's not currently worth trying to describe something as complex as a binding ritual to him. Time to try that diplomatic technique I've been practicing: subtle subject changes. "Oh by the way, Werabela here has located the dragon's hoard. Shall we go claim its contents in the name of the Good King?" I speak as smoothly and nonchalantly as I perfectly execute my conversational evasion.
"That does sound like a good idea. I'll go spread the word!" As Tyavel jogs off, he calls over his shoulder, "And don't think you've dodged that subject; I'll be asking later!" As promised, he then spreads the word (said word being "Hoard!") while gesticulating energetically, the others quickly sharing his sentiment.
"…I wasn't that obvious, was I?"
"No, of course not!" Ah, Werabela, your compassion is truly a balm to my- "I hold no doubts that that performance would have worked on the wisest of commoners."
…It was a good effort, 'Bela.
"Oh well, nothing to do about it now," I sigh. Finally deciding to complete my spell, I inspect my equipment for any damages. Pleased with their condition, I rise off the rock as the others decided who would go to the lair and who would watch over the wounded.
I am selected to go (not only for my strong back, but my familiar is the one who knows the way), our battlemage for nasty surprises, a scout to hedge out nasty surprises, and a healer. Just in case.
Wait, what's this? Some seemingly rare time away from my fellow Spellblade? As my familiar guides the scout, I find myself wondering if a skipping dwarf is a strange sight. I eventually decide to dismiss such thoughts in favor for a happy walk of peace and elf-less quiet.
'This is it,' the girl thought as she arose from the bed. 'This is the day I prove myself as a true noble.'
She dresses herself (albeit a bit slowly) as she mentally prepares herself for the day's coming events or, more accurately, coming event.
Running a comb through her wavy pink hair, she thinks back to the past week leading up to this day. A week filled with taunts, jeers, explosions, and mind crippling failure; It was practically the same as every week until today. The only difference is that today will either make last week a benchmark noting her complete turnaround, the day where she learns her true elemental affinity and builds upon it; or it marks it as the last week as a noble-.
"No!" she slams down her comb onto her vanity and leaps onto her feet, glaring at her reflection all the while. "This is the day that I summon a familiar—there is no alternative! Today I prove myself as a noble. I will not fail!" After taking several deep, calming breaths, she takes up her cloak and boldly steps into the hall.
I cannot fail.
I am a noble.
We have arrived at mouth of the cave that is the dragon's hoard. The journey didn't take long, only about a thirty minute walk. On our way, we passed a steadily increasing amount of debris. Wagons, carts, embellished chariots, even a boat or two (I've decided not to question their existence). With all of the wreckage, we've concluded that this dragon had collected quite a bit of material.
Thus brings us to our current situation: standing before the mouth of the cave, wondering what could be inside.
"So..." starts our forward scout, a half-elf (the poor boy), "...any guesses to how big the hoard is?"
"Looking at the dragon's size and features," responds our middle-aged human mage, "I'd say that it had just entered adulthood. That leaves anything from fifty to sixty years of gathering," he finishes with a gleam in his eye.
"Aye. That could mean quite a bit of coinage in there," our healer, a dwarf from the desert chimes in, idly thumbing the pommel of her morningstar. "Just think of all the steel this could churn out!"
"Aye, that does sound like quite a bit of gold, but that is not what we're here for now," I cut in. "Right now our duty is to make sure that this cavern is clear of threats. After that," I grin, "we can spread the wealth."
"Well what in the nine hells are we waiting for then? I'll go check for traps!" he shouts as he strikes a sunrod and tosses it in, quickly chasing after it. Ah, so full of youth that boy. I hope that enthusiasm doesn't get him killed.
"There's a lot of his mother in that boy," muses the wizard.
"You know him?"
"Yes. For thirteen years now, actually. Being half elf he took a bit to mature, but like his mother he's still a child at heart, even after reaching adulthood. Adventurous, too," he chuckles with a nostalgic smile. "Even now I remember all the trouble he would get into. Chiefly the time where he slipped a drop of sovereign glue onto the professor's wig—I was the professor's attendant at the time—and the only store in the city that had universal solvent was closed because its owner and only worker had traveled to Goralston on business!
"In the end, the professor had to contact a councilman in order to authorize hiring a locksmith to open the shops door. The moment the solvent was applied, Shorald had jumped into the doorway and admitted to his crime with a smile," the man laughs as he recalls the event, "The enraged sputtering that came out of his mouth had the locksmith worried that he was suddenly possessed! As punishment, the boy would have to clean up the classroom after school until the end of his term."
"All things considered," I chime in, "That isn't all that bad."
"That particular class was alchemy. Shortly after that event, the classroom suffered from a strange accident involving a frightened goat and ten tanglefoot bags," he states with a smirk. "A little known fact involving that particular professor was that he quite the prankster in his youth, resulting in some creative incidents that all happened conveniently at the end of the day. Shorald never approached an alchemy workshop for years afterwards."
"You two must be quite close," our healer notes, a cleric of Heironeous judging by her necklace.
His face loses some of its cheer. "That we are," he affirms solemnly. "The passing of his mother—Corellon bless her—was what made us realize our Nobility. We were recruited shortly after." Ah, so that's it. When a death is associated with an 'Awakening' as they now call it, it rarely means a peaceful passing. With this in mind, I opt to rest this subject.
"I am Blade Knight Norment the Mithral of House Mason. Spellblade." I remove my sword arm's gauntlet and raise my hand in greeting.
Following protocol, he balances his staff and removes his right glove. "I am Mage Knight Colbert the Blaze of House Thorold. Battle mage, fire specialization," he declares as he reaches down and firmly shakes my hand. "Well met, fellow Noble."
"Well met, indeed." Our greeting is interrupted by the returning boy. He gives a wave to confirm its safety. "It appears as though it is time to move."
"Then let us move."
And so we entered the dragon's lair.
'A salamander?! She summoned salamander as her familiar?!'
Today was not a good day for Louise. Her confidence was strong at the beginning of the day. She boldly marched through the halls everywhere she went. In the morning, even though she felt nauseous with anxiety, she forced down a hearty breakfast. She bravely strutted into the courtyard and observed silently as she watched the other students summoned their familiars—not at all because she was nervous, of course. She was simply gauging her competition. However, as she watched some students summon grand and sometimes magical creatures as their life companions, she became afflicted with a slight case of anxiety.
Thus brings her to her current situation: hiding behind a large-bodied student, in hopes to delay possible humiliation.
"Not quite," the endlessly irritating voice of Kirche calls out, "Miss Vallière hasn't gone yet." She punctuates her statement with a smirk directed over her should directly at Louise's hiding place.
'That damned big breasted… What am I doing?' She steps out from behind her human shield. 'Why am I hiding? I'm no babbling babe incapable of caring for herself. No, I am Louise!' She strides past Kirche giving her a passing glare, the returns her gaze forward.
'I am Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière! I will show no fear! I will prove to everyone here that I am no Zero and I will bring honor to my family name!' Taking a deep breath, Louise steadies herself and mentally prepares her spell.
'I can do this. I will succeed. I am not a failure.
'I am a Vallière. I am a noble.'
"This is rather straightforward, don't you think?" observes the healer.
"Yes, I do," I agree, "quite literally, in fact."
The dragon's lair was a tunnel seemingly carved straight out from the side of a mountain, interrupted occasionally by rocky outcroppings or the occasional stalagmite. We've been walking for five minutes already with still no sign of any form of offshoot, bend nor end. It is simply a huge straight line of a tunnel. Undeterred from the lack of decorum, we march on in solemn silence.
"You know, I've never known which ones were stalagmites and stalactites."
Wait, what?
Seemingly reading my thoughts, she continues, "You know the bits of rock hanging from the ceiling and sticking up from the ground? I was told a long time ago which ones were which and a few times after that, but it never really stuck," the girl continues. One couldn't tell from her barely visible face, but from her voice I realize she is actually quite young. She directs her gaze towards the ceiling and after a moment, points at a particularly large stalactite. "Stalagmite?" she asks.
"Stalactite," corrects Colbert.
"Ah, see? I was never good at things like that," she nods. "I've never really been one for the learning of things like that."
"Makes me wonder how you endured the education system," I joke, knowing she'd take it in stride, friendly as she seems.
"Nah," she laughs, "I couldn't do it. Too many books that I couldn't read and all that. I mean, sure I knew the meaning of some words, but big words and sentences are a completely different language to me and the teachers didn't have the patience to read to me. I wound up skipping all of that and joining a clergy," she finishes with a smile.
Well... huh.
"Well it's good to see your continued success, in spite of your shortcomings," starts Colbert with a shaky smile, "but aren't you worried that your illiteracy makes you seem a bit... er..."
"...Simple?" I offer with much trepidation. I'm not really trying to insult her intelligence. Well, actually I am, come to think of it, but I'm not trying to do so maliciously, anyway. Luckily, my fears are unfounded as she giggles and snorts at our discomfort.
"Wow, I've never seen two grown men look so awkward before!" she laughs, "No, I'm not worried about it. I know it will happen anyway, but I'm not worried. So long as I perform my duty as a Noble, then there's nothing to worry about!" Truly, this girl has an indomitable spirit. She must have endured much on her quests as a Noble with her shortcomings. I deem this an appropriate time for introductions, so I halt my advance and do so, as does Colbert. She slings her steel shield onto her back as she makes her introduction.
"I am Shield Knight Thani, no title or family name. It's a pleasure!" She amiably smiles as she removes her shield arm's gauntlet and presents it to us. As protocol, I take hers in my sword hand and bow until her knuckles gently press against my visor. Colbert has to take a knee to do the same, much to her apparent amusement.
"Just ahead is the hoarding chamber," announces Shorald from ahead of us. "If everyone is done curtseying to each other, I wanna check out the shiny stuff!" He declares as he runs into the chamber waving about his sunrod in excitement.
Shaking my head, we enter the opening.
Our eyes are instantly assailed with splendor.
The young girl stands the center of the field, devoting all of her focus to her arduous task. However, that did not stop the taunts of her classmates from reaching her ears.
"What's she thinking even attempting a spell such as this?"
"We should back up guys. The Zero's trying to summon something."
"Ten écu says her familiar explodes!"
'Stop it.'
"Hah! Ten says that her familiar is an explosion!"
'Shut up!'
"Oh please! Thirty écu says that she can't even summon-"
'No!' She interrupts the taunts with a flick of a wrist and the raise of a wand as she begins her chant. A declaration to the world, the universe, and to the very Founder she worships that she will not be denied.
"My noble servant that exists somewhere in this vast universe...!"
We stand before a veritable mountain of sweet, glorious, shiny things.
Coins, gems, works of art, arms and armors that are no doubt magical, solid gold bars; this hoard is truly the mother-load.
"Well..." mutters an awestruck Colbert, "...This dragon certainly appears to have been quite... active."
"That he was, good Sir," I nod dumbly. "That he was."
"I think one could buy a small fortress with all of the things here..." whispers Thani.
"I told you its hoard was massive," sulks Werabela. "Did you not believe me?"
"Oh no, I believed you." I stroke my familiars head. "I just didn't realize how big 'massive' was."
Shorald looks between us and the treasure. "You wanna...?"
The next instant has us sorting out the treasure. I assign Colbert to detection duty in order to hedge out magic items and potential curses, while Thani and I work on the heavy lifting to separate this hoard into categories: Magical, art, money, and equipment. Although we stop occasionally for minor debates (usually Thani insisting that a particular armament was a work of art and thus belonged in the art pile) we are making decent time. There are many gems that we could not immediately identify, but that can be taken care of when everyone is here to haul everything back to the Capital.
Or at least that was the plan, until something started happening.
"My noble servant that exists somewhere in this vast universe...!"
Upon hearing this strange statement I drop the chest that I was hauling to the art section and bring my axe and shield to bear. A tense moment passes as nothing happens. What I found strange about it wasn't that it was in a strange language,.
No, what was strange was that I somehow understood it.
"Brother, what's wrong?" I detect a strong feeling of worry and unease from Werabela.
"Did anyone else hear that?" I inquire softly.
"...My divine, beautiful, wise, and powerful servant, heed my call!"
"I certainly heard something that time," Colbert readies his staff and steadily moves closer to us, "but what was it?"
"What did it sound like?" asks Thani nervously.
"It sounded kind of like a girl," notes Shorald while absently drawing his shortbow taut, "but what was she saying?"
"You mean you can't understand her?" Why was I the only one who could understand this voice? Was it meant for my ears only? Is this a trap set by some beast? Perhaps a trick by some demon?!
"I wish for you, from the bottom of my heart, to answer my guidance and appear!"
And then there, right in front of me, a man-sized pentagram inlaid into a disc of arcane runes sharply came into existence.
"Look out!" I cry as I jump away from the anomaly that was suddenly there.
At my warning others hop away with shouts of alarm and Shorald reflexively looses an arrow, lit aflame by the magic of his bow, directly into it. I was going to scold him for provoking a... whatever this thing is, when it simply ate his arrow whole.
"What's going on?" asks my fearful familiar.
"What is that thing?" I inquire to our dedicated practitioner of the arcane, only to find him staring in wide-eyed wonder.
"Amazing...!" he whispers, as though anything louder could shatter its existence. "If my eyes and mind are to be trusted..." he then approached the disk, much to our protest, and began examining it—its runes, its shape, its form, none was safe from his inquisitive gaze."I believe," he returns as giddy as a farm girl on parade day, "that this is a modified form of a Gate spell!"
Of course, a Gate! What was I thinking?
…
"What the hell is a 'Gate'?" I decide to ask the unspoken question.
"A Gate," undeterred by my annoyance, "is a very ancient and very powerful spell. It is recorded in various texts to have the power of interdimensional travel! With this spell, the world, the planes—the entire cosmos could be traversed in but a moment! Only the strongest of mages can even cast this spell. Its presence here means that either one of us secretly wields godlike power or...," suddenly, he loses his cheer and his mouth goes dry as he slowly turns to face it. "One of us is being summoned by said very powerful mage..." We all stare at the Gate with varying expressions of trepidation (though mine is hidden behind my visor). It is then that I remember what the voice had said.
"A servant," I state much to the surprise of the others. "It was looking for a servant."
"Brother?" Werabela mentally calls from her place on my shoulder. I look at her and she meets my gaze with wide, fearful eyes.
I pick up a coin—a platinum piece minted at the Capital I note—and flick it into the Gate where it is swallowed whole, the ringing of the coin abruptly silenced as it passes through.
"...We should leave," I announce. Everyone silently agrees.
As we make our exit however, an unseen force wraps itself around my body jerking me back towards it. "Sir Norment!" Colbert is the first to realize my situation.
Reacting quickly to this turn of events, Shorald takes initiative by grabbing a nearby chain we were using to drag some loot and wraps it around my midsection. After securing it with a piton that he deftly drew from my climbing kit, he tossed the slack to Thani.
"Quickly!" he cried, "Take up the chain and set yourself!" He pulls on the nearest section of chain to no effect.
With a frantic wave of his staff and a shout, Colbert casts a Greater Dispel at the Gate. Sadly, it has no effect. "Its caster is too powerful! I cannot void it on my own!"
Thani takes up the chain and pulls with all of her might, to no avail. "That Gate is too strong!" Looking around for anything that can help, she lays eyes on a moderately thick stalagmite that's well within reach of the chain. "I'm going to anchor this end onto that stalactite!" She announces as she carries her end of the chain over to the stalagmite.
At this very moment, I didn't have the heart or the concentration to correct her.
I could tell by the invisible force pulling me that I would not be escaping today.
I'll be damned, however, if I do not try.
Securing my axe onto its place on my hip, I use my free hand to reach into my spell pouch. I cannot use an 'Enlarge' spell; that that would either burst the chain or shock my allies keeping me in place. If I use Flight, then I would lose traction with the ground. No, first I will bolster myself so I can hold my ground, then I will do what I was trained to do: attack and hope for the best.
Drawing some bull hairs from the pouch, I chant necessary arcane words ingrained into my very soul and channel magical energies through my every muscle and bone. As the bull hairs are consumed by arcane energies, I can feel my physical might rise significantly as I take hold of the chain.
Shorald and Thani continue to tug on the chains, but realize with despair that they are losing ground. Colbert tries to conjure a wall of stone behind my slowly sliding form, but the moment I make contact with it, it disintegrates. Undeterred, he continues all forms of spells to try and disrupt the Gate's attempt to kidnap me.
At this rate, I'm only about thirty seconds from getting whisked away to gods-knows-where.
"Werabela," I grind out as I turn towards the portal, "run."
"What?!"
"I told you to run away!"
"No! I'm not going to leave you!"
As I get within fifteen feet of the portal, I grab my familiar and throw her in the opposite direction. Turning back towards the portal, I unleash the angriest gout of flame I've ever had the honor of launching directly into it—sadly, still to no effect. Through the blaze, I can hear the panicked cries of my fellow Nobles.
"Sir Norment, I cannot stop the Gate!"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Mason! I can't hold on much longer..."
"Come on, big guy, don't give up now!"
"Brother, please don't make me leave you!"
"SHUT UP!" I shout over the din of chaos, my authority silencing all of their voices at once. "This isn't some kind of low grade, nine-copper romance novel," I can feel my familiar's panic crashing against me in waves. "You are going to report this, you are going to get help, and you will bring me back."
"But what will you do, Sir Norment?"
"I am going to go have words with my so-called 'summoner'." I growl as I drop my visor over my face and draw my axe. Unleashing a battle cry, I strike out the piton keeping the chain in place.
I am immediately flung across the cosmos, roaring all the while.
Words will be had, indeed.
The three stands there dumbly as the Gate disappears, the chain falling limp to the ground. Almost immediately, Werabela screeches desperately while flapping about the cavern in a frantic manner.
"Why did this happen?" whimpered Thani on the brink of tears. "We all only just met him and now he's gone? That isn't fair."
"Yeah, this is pretty messed up," chimed in Shorald. "I didn't really know him, but I feel for him, you know?"
"Indeed, I know," Colbert solemnly nods, using his staff as a support. "I had only just met him, but I could tell he was a good man. And his poor familiar..."
That was as far as he got before said familiar practically crashed onto the head of his staff. "Why are you talking about him as if he's dead?!" she screeches into his mind, sending him reeling. "Why are we all just standing here like this is a funeral?! We need to go find help so we can save my brother!"
Shocked out of his confusion, Colbert regains his focus. "Yes, of course you are right, lady familiar. Come, everyone," he rallies everyone's attention, "we must go get help so that we may save our fellow Noble! He is depending on us to find him a way home, so we must do so quickly lest something terrible happen!"
"Here, here!" Thani cries, "For our new friend!"
And with that, they run back to the dragon's corpse.
"...My divine, beautiful, wise, and powerful servant, heed my call!" she continues, raising her wand and waving it, gracefully weaving the magic to form her spell. "I wish for you, from the bottom of my heart, to answer my guidance and appear!"
'This looks quite promising,' thinks Professor Jean Colbert while observing from the sidelines (at a safe distance, of course). 'Such conviction and confidence! I'm positive that she will-'
His train of thought was painfully interrupted by a blinding flash, a deafening bang, and an all obscuring cloud of smoke threatening to clog his lungs. Coughing violently, he waves his staff in front of him in a futile attempt to clear the air. He can already hear the jeers of the students as-
Thunk!
His thoughts start running at a mile a minute. That sound. He knew that sound. That was the sound of an arrow striking wood. It felt like it came from his staff. Upon inspection, he indeed found a smoldering arrow lodged in the head of his staff. With a quick Detect Magic spell, he found the residue of an enchantment that he was quite familiar with: Flames. He returns the staff to the position it was held at when the arrow struck and, to his surprise, he finds that its angle suggests that it would have struck his head had the staff not been in the way. 'Could it be an assassin? Have I been discovered?!' Using its trajectory to judge the point of origin, he finds that it was launched directly from the center of-
'Wait,' he pauses, seeing a glow from the center of the dust cloud. 'That is-!'
"Ms. Vallière, stay behind me!" Professor Colbert jumps in front of a disoriented Louise as a gout of flame bursts forth from the same point as where the arrow originated from. Without need of a chant, the Professor summons a wall of flame before him, successfully cancelling out the angry red flames threatening to incinerate a student under his vigilant watch.
Identifying the casting of battle magic, Tabitha summons a gale of wind to blow away the smoke so that she may expose any potential threats.
And exposed it was, for the clearing of the smoke revealed an ornately dressed axe wielding midget with the grandest, deep brown beard they have ever seen flowing from under his close helmet, braided, and tucked into to his waistbelt.
At first glance, he appears to be dressed in high grade, royal blue robes with dark purple detail, but it is quickly noted that from his neck to his boots, he's armored in interlocking plates of some kind of metallic but translucent material. On his left arm he hefts a large steel shield and in his right hand he wields an axe with a large, heavy head. On his back is a large pack complete with rope, a torch, a tent and a clay jug—an adventurer perhaps?—and secured right next to it is a loaded crossbow and a halberd.
In short, this dwarf of a man is most likely quite dangerous.
"RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"
And he's charging straight for Colbert.
"By naming a particular being or kind of being as you cast the spell, you cause the gate to open in the immediate vicinity of the desired creature and pull the subject through, willing or unwilling." – An excerpt from Gate's spell description.
Character Name: Norment Mason
Race: Dwarf
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Class and Level: Fighter 2/ Sorcerer 4/ Spellsword 5
Remaining Hit Points/Max Hit Points: 33/70 (1d10 +4d4+5d8+43)
Base Attack Bonus/Grapple: +9/+11
Saves: Fort +11, Ref +3, Will +7
Abilities: Str 14, Dex 12, Con 16, Int 12, Wis 10, Cha 14
Feats: Improved Familiar, Power Attack, Cleave, Combat Familiar, Blind Fight, Extend Spell, Empower Spell.
This character uses a 28 point buy system.
Books used for this story: Player's Handbook, Player's Handbook II, Dungeon Master's Guide, Unearthed Arcana (traits and environmental racial variants), Complete Warrior.
Author's Notes:
Greetings, and welcome to I am Noble, my very first fanfiction! As of recently, I've had a bit of an obsession with Zero no Tsukaima. Since I'm already obsessed with Dungeons and Dragons, my thoughts on both subjects had tendency to mix. The end result of my idle daydreaming is this story! Now then, allow me to note certain things that you may need to know:
The D&D edition I play and use in this story is 3.5e. It was the first edition that I was introduced to and it is one that I'm comfortable with. I've tried Pathfinder before and found it wasn't my cup of tea*. Normally I use quite a few supplemental books, variants, and house rules, but for the sake of simplicity, I'm restricting most of the story to the books mentioned on Norment's spoiler-free statblock.
The campaign setting is a custom collaboration of me and a friend of mine. He created the original world and over a span of a few millennia (in game, of course), I built on it. He plans to give me full rights to do stuff to the world, but I don't plan on claiming that this world is my creation alone; only the original characters and the organizations seen here are mine alone. Thus explains why this paragraph exists in the first place.
I may or may not alter parts of the actual story or the plot for the sake of this story or for entertainment. You have been warned.
While I will try to update frequently, I may not actually succeed. Please send me angry messages if I take too long.
All that being said, thank you for reading! If I've done something to please or offend, please let me know via review and also point out any mistakes I made. Until next time!
*: We never talk about 4e. That is a very dark place.