Ranged Bard


== Created Using Wizards of the Coast D&D Character Builder ==
Nissa, level 10
Gnome, Bard
Build: Cunning Bard
Bardic Virtue Option: Virtue of Cunning
Versatile Expertise Option: Versatile Expertise (Instrument)
Auspicious Birth (Auspicious Birth Benefit)
Theme: Noble Adept

STR 10, CON 14, DEX 10, INT 18, WIS 8, CHA 21

STR 10, CON 14, DEX 10, INT 14, WIS 8, CHA 17

AC: 25 Fort: 20 Ref: 24 Will: 24
HP: 78 Surges: 9 Surge Value: 19

Arcana +16, Bluff +15, Diplomacy +15, Religion +14, Streetwise +15

Acrobatics +5, Athletics +5, Dungeoneering +5, Endurance +7, Heal +5, History +10, Insight +5, Intimidate +14, Nature +5, Perception +5, Stealth +7, Thievery +5

Basic Attack: Melee Basic Attack
Basic Attack: Ranged Basic Attack
Noble Adept Feature: Adept’s Insight
Gnome Racial Power: Fade Away
Wizard Utility: Ghost Sound
Bard Feature: Majestic Word
Bard Feature: Words of Friendship
Bard Attack 1: Staggering Note
Bard Attack 1: Vicious Mockery
Bard Attack 1: Blunder
Bard Attack 1: Stirring Shout
Bard Utility 2: Moment of Escape
Bard Attack 3: Impelling Force
Bard Attack 5: Song of Discord
Bard Utility 6: Revitalizing Incantation
Bard Attack 7: Prescient Warning
Bard Attack 9: Wail of Anguish
Bluff Utility10: Stall Tactics

Level 1: Ritual Caster
Level 1: Improved Majestic Word
Level 2: Beguiling Enchantment
Level 4: Advantage of Cunning
Level 5: Improved Defenses
Level 5: Versatile Expertise
Level 5: Implement Focus (Instrument)
Level 6: Distant Advantage
Level 8: Mark of Healing
Level 10: Battle Song Expertise

Ritual Book
Glib Limerick
Traveler’s Camouflage
Travel Papers
Adventurer’s Kit
Trail Rations
Fey-Blessed Circlet x1
Nibenay’s Cruel Reminder (heroic tier)
Mesmerizing Harp x1
Screaming Hide Armor +3 x1
Resplendent Cloak +2 x1
Boots of Quickness (heroic tier) x1
Song of Sustenance
Floating Lantern
== End ==


My father, Pock, was an adventurer in the Feywild when he met my mother, Zanna. She was very beautiful and considered the “catch” of the gnome village she inhabited. Pock was immediately taken with her, and my mother liked to listen to his stories. Soon they were married. My father adventured a while longer, and my mother had me. When I was no more than a few days old, my mother was in her garden (get it? garden gnome…) which bordered a small wood, when she saw a beautiful lady covered in flower garlands looking out from the trees. The lady was The Summer Queen. My mother stood in shock as the lady looked upon me sleeping and smiled. “This child’s song will make you weep with joy and sorrow. She will grace the world with her music, and come to me, when she is ready.”

Zanna told Pock when he next returned, and they were joyful at their good fortune, and my blessed future. Until the dreams started. I remember the first one. I was still a child of no more than 4 or 5, and as I slept, I remember the eyes. They were round, and large and malicious. Only the eyes. Surrounding them was only blackness, and I could only see the whites, never changing. “Take me to her. Take me to The Queen,” they said. I woke up screaming. My parents, still awake near the fire, came, and as I told them what I saw, they shrugged it off, unconcerned, and got me back to sleep. Only the dream continued often after that. Sometimes daily, sometimes weekly, I never knew when it would come, or for how long. Then one day, I must have been about 10, my father came home in a panic, he and my mother packed up our things, and we left the Feywild for Hillwatch, where my father took over the inn. He told all when they asked that he decided to retire and help out other adventurers as he was helped as well.

Eothel frequented the inn a lot, and he became good friends with my parents. He went this way with his caravans to trade with the dwarves in the Brown Hills. He would bring back Dwarven ale for my father. Good thing, too, because it was one of the only things that kept people coming to the inn. Gnomes weren’t very popular in Hillwatch. But, whenever the farmers feared for their animals, or needed the drinking water cleaned (again!), they always seemed to come a-calling to my mom. Mind you, everyone loved my mom. She was so pretty, or at least, she was until you looked into her eyes. For some reason, they always looked wary and even frightened after we moved to Hillwatch.

One day, Eothel was carried into the inn. His caravan had been ambushed and he was badly hurt. Mom and dad insisted that he stay with them while he recovered, and he was with us for several weeks. I must have been 12 or 13 at the time. Mom and I liked listening to him tell his stories of his crazy dad’s adventures. I used to giggle at his lisp, and Eothel would lean over and tousle my hair. I remember he and my dad talking seriously some times too. I walked in on them once by accident. “Are you sure it was him?” my dad was asking. “Absolutely,” Eothel said. But then they saw me and changed the subject. A few days later, I was watching dad play cards at the inn from up on the mezzanine. I should have been sleeping, but I liked sneaking over to see what went on after I went to bed. He was playing with a scary looking man I had only seen once or twice before. I couldn’t hear what dad said to him, but at one point, he looked up sharply, intently looking at my dad as if trying to figure something out. He quickly finished the hand, muttered something, and left. Dad played a few more hands with the others, and then started to clean up and close for the night. Just before he locked up, the man came back. I wanted to scream, but I was too stunned to react to what I was seeing. I don’t even remember what happened really. Only that the next thing I remember, it was the next morning and my father was dead.

My mother was inconsolable, almost catatonic. Only Eothel could seem to get through, and I would awaken late at night to them talking. When I asked what was going on, my mother said only “I am trying to figure out how to protect us, child. Don’t worry, go back to sleep.” I wasn’t sure then what we needed protecting from. But shortly after my father’s burial, Eothel took us home with him, married my mother, and adopted me. He was always very loving with me and her, and I believe that in time, my mother loved him. I have 2 sisters to show for it.

There weren’t too many gnomes in Brindol, and although I did have friends, I was never really included. So, to get noticed, I started acting and dressing a little outlandish. I figured, at some point, I could work it into my act. The day I left to start my bardic training was the day my mother first warned me to beware of the “man with the unblinking eyes.” It was at that moment, recalling my nightmares, that I realized what she was protecting me from.

Now I’m at the end of my training. “The Act” is no longer only important for itself alone. I want to use my powers for something more important. I remember all those stories Eothel used to tell me about Pradir and his Order of the Phoenix. I too want to head up such a group, and do something with my life. But, more importantly, I want to find the necromancer, if he lives. He has a debt to pay.


Scales of War tasha0