Paradigm Concepts

[Harliquinn]

I've evolved my Dark-kin Adventuring Archaeologist / Bard to look a bit more realistic. Figured I'd share the new look here.



John
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- Harliquinn, John Bellando
Ohio Harvester

Kelb'Bakari, Dark-kin Altherian Corsair, Gentleman Archaeologist
-"Judge a wine by its label and you will miss out on the best vintages."

[Harliquinn]

"Judge a wine by its label and you will miss out on the best vintages." – Kelb’Bakari, Dark-kin Corsair

Semar, Altheria - Foedus 14, 1044 IC

An dusty unopened bottle of Ansharan Rilberry Wine with lipstick on the neck…
…Growing up, I remember seeing this bottle of wine on the mantle above the freplace in my parent’s home in Semar. It was said that families kiss the bottle then drink the Ansharan Rilberry wine to ward off bad luck or to celebrate good fortune. My birth was just the last in a string of bad luck that had befallen the Masalio family, bad luck of a caliber that even a bottle of Rilberry would not suffice. In the past, the name Masalio signified what remained of grand accomplishments; today is merely signifies what remains of that once proud name.

My family has always had a prominent position within the Emerald Society with my uncle, Haki-amri having been on the expedition to recover the Revelations of Illiir. It was the last time a bottle of Rilberry was opened in our home. When my uncle returned, he was changed, as if something happened he couldn’t speak about. He withdrew from the family and his friends, reportedly keeping a journal. Two years after the expedition returned and the Mother Church had integrated the Revelations into the Canon, my uncle was found dead and his home ransacked as if by thieves. Nothing of value was stolen and an investigator my father hired revealed that the only thing missing was a journal, based on the evidence of ink, papers, and rubbings. No one in the family knew what was written there, but it has always fascinated me. The only other evidence was a small symbol to Cadic that had apparently been dropped by the murderer. When the Milandisian Orthodox Church formed, my family went with it, believing them were betrayed by the Coryani Church.

Misfortune plagued our family for many years, my older brother was killed in the Shining Patrol while fighting the Ss’ressen in the south, my father’s privileges within the Emerald Society were revoked without reason, and our family’s home was destroyed in a fire that affected several blocks in Semar. Deciding to start anew, my parents, Bakari-amri and Akila-khari, packed what they had and moved to New Althré. On Feodus 14, on a rainy night somewhere on the road to New Althré, the Masalio family was dealt the final misfortune…the birth of a dark-kin. My birth was difficult and at one point my heart stopped. I was named in the proper Altherian fashion and given the name for bravery, Kelbon-Bakari…

The pungent stench of Dead Fhokki Ale on a broken bottle…
…The stench of the ale mixed with the screams of the Coryani patrician dueled for the dominant sensation as the coverings fell from my face and body in the marketplace, causing the noblewoman to stagger into a mercenary who dropped his recently purchased bottle of ale. Luckily, my mother was able to use the distraction to get the two of us to safety, but it was clear that three years of hiding my heritage within the house was at an end.

Despite my father’s protests, my mother saw to it that I was trained and educated in the skills others Altherians were receiving. No public institution would take a “demon�, but it was arranged for me to have private lessons by those brave enough to provide them. The family name may not have had much standing, but my father’s ventures in shipping were still paying off with the ongoing war. My mother refused to hide me, coming to believe my birth was a test by Althares and that somehow I would restore the family name and to the Cauldron with those who thought otherwise. So it was for the next 10 years that I was raised in private as any Altherian might, educated in history, taught to use a flintlock, and instilled with a respect for Althares and the Milandisian Orthodoxy…

The heady oaken aroma of a glass of Cancerese Chandla Wine…
…That singular sensation is the most memorable from the day of my father’s funeral. It contrasted sharply with the fresh cut flowers, the stale air of the room, and the low din of whispered conversations. My mother was distraught with the news that my father had been killed near the Kraldjur River near Semar by a raiding party, as the reports went. The news had been delivered b y a long-time family friend, a Cancerese mushkenu scholar named Sirakh Pandjaren. He confided that my father was on business for the Emerald Society when they were ambushed; a leak in communications the likely cause, though official reports were bandits.

Life got more difficult for my mother as she was forced to sell off part of the business. It was a year before I was legally able to join the Shining Patrol, but I could not allow her to support me any longer. I forged the necessary papers, gathered up what belongings I could and took to the recruitment office, determined to make something of myself and restore my family’s pride and Hurrian protect any who stood in my way…

A stoppered flask of Valen Spiced Rum…
…That potent, warming drink got me through my first winter patrol on the border with the Sethrics. The first year was the worst, being too young, improperly equipped, and of course being a tainted infernal spawn. The Patrol sergeants reserved no love for dark-kin and while direct prejudice was not tolerated, they reserved the worst assignments for me and the few others in service. I was not the strongest, but I was determined and my natural agility and bestial appearance often gave me an edge in training. In fact one of the other recruits, Lukas Maesterson, had it in for me, until the day we were partnered in what was supposed to be a training run. He was tall and strong, but not very fast, so when the ss’ressen archer spotted him, it was only my quick reflexes and ability to knock him down at the knees that kept him alive. The broken wrist he suffered was nothing to being alive and after that day, he gave some grudging respect and we became friends, at least as much as we could be.

The next year was a blur, deployed across the borders of Altherian, fighting incursions from ss’ressen, pirates, and the occasional band from the League of Princes. My independent attitude, combined with an unfortunate moment that I found a commanding officer stealing from Patrol stores, got me an early discharge from the Shining Patrol. Within a month, I was made a surprise offer to join on with a ship that would be operating off the coast of Milandir and Coryani. No details were given and my only clue was that Sirakh had pulled some strings to get me assigned. Surprisingly some of my old Patrol mates were disappointed to see me leave; I suppose leaving friends behind instead of enemies is a worthy goal...

The faded label of a bottle of Threll and Kosch Brandy…
…The loud crash as pieces of a bottle of brandy was smashed against the stern of “Enlightenment,� a caravel commissioned in the Altherian Navy, but giving more towards speed and maneuverability rather than firepower. I wasn’t sure what I was getting into until I boarded and was greeted by Sirakh, with the simple words “Welcome to your new life.� Little did I know how true that statement was going to be, as three events greatly shaped my service and lead to my current position…

I served out my remaining years of service to Altheria aboard the ship and on shore. It turns out the ship was the cover for several members of the Emerald Society, devoted to the exploration of uncovered ruins and the preservation of knowledge. Here, my lack of strength would not be a hindrance but my sharp mind, keen insight, and natural dexterity would serve me well.

For two years, we explored the coastal borders of Altheria and the surrounding regions. Once we landed on the shores near Freeport to retrieve a stash of stolen runes, while the Society contingent explored a section of old Valossa to uncover some relics of the worship of the Unspeakable One. We picked up a Kio swordswoman while exploring remote ruins in Mhyrcia in the League of Princes. It turns out Laerisfalla is a member of the Emerald Society whose cover was compromised and the trip there to scout was a pretext to extract her. She took an immediate interest in me, which I found strange because most shy away or antagonize me. In a particularly bad storm aboard the ship, despite my training, I was almost washed over. Only the steel chains from Laerisfalla’s whip gripped tightly in her hand kept me from falling into the sea. I asked her to train me in the use of such a weapon, as I had not seen its equal.

A filthy shot glass filled with Pengik Gutripper…
…That gutripper was the last toast I made with Reginald, the Emerald Society’s quartermaster. It was all we had left after our expedition lost a pack mule and two saddle bags of supplies on the trek to the rumored location of the Hidden temple of the Star in the Hinterlands.

We’d been given directions by a contact out of Sulpecci. Should have known we couldn’t trust a Coryani. We didn’t and we paid for it. While in an underground cistern, investigating some pictographs, we discovered a trio of strangely wrapped corpses. Upon touching them, a great magical ward was released, killing Reginald, and releasing a dark presence into the room, which at one point traveled *through* me, leaving me weak and dizzy for some time. We were unable to harm it, but it eventually escaped, though Sirakh’s words of power seemed to strike it several times. We were quick to leave that place, fleeing attack from a tribe of Pengik, who had been told of our presence by the Coryani. Of the group of 12 that set out, only 6 of us made it back to the ship.

A half filled mug of honey mead…
…I raised a toast to the rest of the crew for their bravery as pats on the shoulders knocked me around on my hooves. Only two days ago the “Enlightenment� was attacked by a Ymandragore black ship, its oars manned by slaves. A freak storm came out of nowhere, and as the Ship’s Master was calling orders in the storm, a bolt of lightning struck from the clouds. As others stood motionless, caught off guard, I took it upon myself to rally the crew, starting a shanty that helped inspire the crew, giving them renewed vigor. We barely escaped, and many more died, but I was given a field promotion to Ship’s Master, which I kept until we set back for the Hinterlands, and I was sent by Sirakh to join the Crusade, under cover from the Emerald Society to investigate and keep my eyes open for the cause of the Infernals' new attacks.…
_________________
- Harliquinn, John Bellando
Ohio Harvester

Kelb'Bakari, Dark-kin Altherian Corsair, Gentleman Archaeologist
-"Judge a wine by its label and you will miss out on the best vintages."

[Harliquinn]

I've updated my character picture and avatar. Figured I'd let folks know what Kelb looks like currently.

John
_________________
- Harliquinn, John Bellando
Ohio Harvester

Kelb'Bakari, Dark-kin Altherian Corsair, Gentleman Archaeologist
-"Judge a wine by its label and you will miss out on the best vintages."

[Nierite]

Ooooo! Pretty. . . (in an artistic way )
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Cody Bergman

aka = Haakon Marcus val'Virdan, Priest of Nier (Divine 1.
aka = Dyabe val'Abebi, Templar of Althares (Divine 1.4)
aka = Jorma Ostoman, Battlemage of the Coryani Empire (Arcane 1.2)

[Harliquinn]

Thanks. Can't take credit for drawing any of it, but I can cobble together a Photoshop version from a lot of pictures
_________________
- Harliquinn, John Bellando
Ohio Harvester

Kelb'Bakari, Dark-kin Altherian Corsair, Gentleman Archaeologist
-"Judge a wine by its label and you will miss out on the best vintages."

[Harliquinn]

I've been working on a custom miniature for my character, Kelb. After modding like a madman this week from no less than 5 other miniatures, I finally got him assembled and 'green stuffed'. Just waiting overnight for the glue to dry and green stuff to set before priming him. My goal is to have it painted for Origins!



And the finished product. It won't win any painting awards, but I'm happy with it.



John
_________________
- Harliquinn, John Bellando
Ohio Harvester

Kelb'Bakari, Dark-kin Altherian Corsair, Gentleman Archaeologist
-"Judge a wine by its label and you will miss out on the best vintages."