The Fist of Sehanine (respin)

The moon's knight of vengeance.


== Created Using Wizards of the Coast D&D Character Builder ==
Fist Knight, level 10
Human, Fighter (Knight)
Knight Option: Shield Finesse
Knight Weapon Specialization Option: Staggering Hammer
Human Power Selection Option: Heroic Effort
Auspicious Birth (Auspicious Birth Benefit)
Theme: Primordial Adept

STR 22, CON 10, DEX 13, INT 8, WIS 10, CHA 15

STR 18, CON 10, DEX 13, INT 8, WIS 10, CHA 13

AC: 27 Fort: 26 Ref: 21 Will: 21
HP: 85 Surges: 9 Surge Value: 22

Athletics +14, Endurance +8, Heal +10, Intimidate +12, Religion +9

Acrobatics +4, Arcana +4, Bluff +7, Diplomacy +7, Dungeoneering +5, History +4, Insight +5, Nature +5, Perception +5, Stealth +4, Streetwise +7, Thievery +4

Basic Attack: Melee Basic Attack
Basic Attack: Ranged Basic Attack
Primordial Adept Attack: Solkara’s Wave
Human Racial Power: Heroic Effort
Fighter Attack: Battle Guardian
Multiple Class Utility: Defender Aura
Fighter Utility: Poised Assault
Fighter Utility: Defend the Line
Multiple Class Attack: Power Strike
Fighter Utility: Measured Cut
Monk Feature: Stone Fist Flurry of Blows
Primordial Adept Utility 2: Solkara’s Grasp
Heal Utility 2: Iron Resurgence
Fighter Attack 7: Come and Get It
Fighter Utility 8: Shield Block
Fighter Utility 10: Fighter’s Grit

Shield Finesse
Level 1: Vicious Advantage
Level 1: Monastic Disciple
Level 2: World Serpent’s Grasp
Level 4: Mark of Storm
Level 6: Martial Cross-Training
Level 8: Superior Will
Level 9: Flail Expertise
Level 9: Improved Defenses
Level 9: Weapon Focus (Flail)
Level 10: Directed Bull Rush

Parry Gauntlets x1
Belt of Vigor (heroic tier) x1
Eberron Shard of Lightning (heroic tier)
Rushing Cleats x1
Badge of the Berserker +2 x1
Jousting Shield Heavy Shield (heroic tier) x1
Supporting Layered Plate Armor +2 x1
Forked Lightning Ki Focus +2 x1
Avandra’s Boon of Escape (level 3)
Battle Standard of the Hungry Blade
Sandstorm Alhulak +2 x1
Horned Helm (heroic tier) x1
== End ==


One frozen and windswept winter’s night, a small cart trundled over the dirt road into the small town of Marthton. The cloud of dust from its passing rose high into the clear sky, swept by the winds across the face of the full moon. It rattled to a stop at the small temple of Sehanine. The attendants of the chapel were soon awoken by cries without, and a weak but fervent pounding at the doors. They opened the doors to discover a pregnant woman, ravaged by fever. She had driven the cart alone through the wilderness for what must have been days, judging from the state of the cart and horse.

They brought her in to the chapel and laid her down under the skylight windows in the ceiling. I was delivered then on the stone altar, in the beams of the full moon, under the statue of Sehanine.

They showed me to my mother, who said only one word, “Camille,” before she died. She never held me. Fatherless, I was named Camille Saint-Saëns, after the saint on whose day I was born.

The attendants had learned from my mother nothing of her identity or of the family of which I came, except that I was a child of love. From my mother’s bearing, they believed her to be possibly a noble of some kind, cast out by the shame of my conception. All I have of hers is a tattered square of velvet cloth from the dress she wore, and one half of a puzzle ring that may hold the key to my patronage.

I was placed in an orphanage, where I was raised without kindness or love. We were beaten, humiliated, underfed, abused, and worked as slaves for the masters. We were rented out to labor in fields, tanneries, smithies, whoever would pay the masters for our services. If we did not perform, our punishments only increased. We learned to keep our heads down, shake off the beatings, and do what we needed to do. It toughened me, and taught me perseverance and endurance.
One night, at the age of 13, I had a dream. A woman came to me, dressed in black velvet with the palest, loveliest face I had ever seen. She was so bright and beautiful I could hardly look at her, but she tenderly touched my cheek and told me not to fear. She told me she loved me. She showed me a vision of a place in the trees on the other side of the town, and told me to meet her there, quickly. She faded away. I believed then that it was my mother.

When I awoke, with the moonlight streaming through the tiny windows in the dormitory where we slept, I felt an overwhelming compulsion to go to the place I had been shown. They locked the orphanage overnight to keep us in, but I knew a secret way to sneak through to the street. I used it, and crossed the town to the small glade. There, I lay against a tree and stared at the full moon, thinking of the lady from my dream. I dreamed that she would come and take me away to live with her.

Eventually I noticed that the small wisps of smoke that passed across the face of the moon had become dark clouds of thick ash. I became aware of distant cries, and a soft red light radiating from the other side of town. I returned to the orphanage to find it a raging inferno, the townspeople attempting to stop the spread of the flames. I was the only survivor of all the children. The masters had not even attempted to rescue the others once their own skins were safe. When they saw that I had survived, they decried me to the other townspeople as an arsonist. I was stoned and driven from the town. In the light of the moon, I walked to Dennovar to begin a new life.

I resolved never to work again at the kind of menial tasks that had been forced upon me for so long. At first, I starved. Then, I learned to steal what I could. I discovered that I could act, and make others believe what I wanted them to. Not being nimble-fingered myself, I joined up with a group of young thieves. I would distract shopkeepers while my colleagues stole what we needed, then we would share the proceeds.

Eventually I assumed a new identity as the dashing highwayman Sannois. I and my small band of raiders haunted the roads in the Elsir Vale. We struck at night, attacking trade caravans, traveling nobles, anyone that could give us a profit. I learned to intimidate. I became a well-known figure to the underworld, and to the noble young ladies whose gems, jewelry and hearts I stole.

Until, one night 13 years after I left the orphanage, we made a routine attack on a pair of carriages. Word had spread of a rich haul to be had; we were cocky and looking forward to the loot and revelry ahead. We stopped the carriages. I approached the lead carriage as the mist, silvered by the moonlight, spun gently around my horse’s hocks. I drew my rapier and used the point to open the curtains. But instead of a swooning young lady, I saw within the carriage the bearded face of a town guardsman. A split-second later, the guard’s crossbow bolt slammed into my shoulder and knocked me from my horse.

Battle broke out in earnest, but did not last long. My group was no match for a trained fighting force in a planned ambush, and they were quickly subdued. I ran, and was pursued. Finally, pierced by over a dozen bolts and arrows, I fell from a rocky point into a small lake. I sank, and was left for dead.

I remember hitting bottom, and everything went black. After a timeless time, the lady from my dream came to me again. She told me that the time had come to arise, and to place my feet upon the path set out for me by destiny. She told me again that she loved me. She told me that if I prove my worth I will be given a great quest in her honor. And if I complete my quest, we can be together. She kissed me, and I felt a warmth of pure love spread through me that I had never felt before.

She began to recede away from me, and her pale face swam in my vision until it resolved itself into the face of the full moon, seen from beneath the waves. I knew then the true identity of the maiden: not my mother, but the goddess of the moon herself. I swam toward the moon, and broke through the surface of the lake a new man. On the shore, I pulled the arrows from my own flesh, and howled with the distant wolves.

From that day, I have worked in her service to prove my worth. I have traveled far and wide to the temples of Sehanine, redistributing the wealth that I had gained over my criminal days. The temple in Brindol is my last stop; I have now completed my first task, and am looking for the next path to follow.

I have no mother and no father. My heart prizes and covets above all the true love and honest affection that I have never known. I sacrifice my own strength for the bond of love, honor and duty that exists between traveling companions. I free those oppressed by tyranny to follow their own paths. In battle, I am as radiant and implacable as my goddess.

Thrice have I been born in the rays of the full moon.

I am the Fist of Sehanine.

The Fist of Sehanine (respin)

Scales of War sbbor