Post edited 10:56 pm – June 8, 2011 by Fozz

====== Created Using Wizards of the Coast D&D Character Builder ======
Tempest, level 2
Drow, Sorcerer
Build: Storm Sorcerer
Spell Source: Storm Magic
Darkfire: Darkfire Charisma
Background: Drow – Outcast (Perception class skill)

FINAL ABILITY SCORES
Str 10, Con 13, Dex 15, Int 10, Wis 8, Cha 20.

STARTING ABILITY SCORES
Str 10, Con 13, Dex 13, Int 10, Wis 8, Cha 18.

AC: 13 Fort: 12 Reflex: 13 Will: 18
HP: 30 Surges: 7 Surge Value: 7

TRAINED SKILLS
Arcana +6, Insight +5, Perception +5, Diplomacy +11

UNTRAINED SKILLS
Acrobatics +3, Bluff +6, Dungeoneering, Endurance +2, Heal, History +1, Intimidate +8, Nature, Religion +1, Stealth +5, Streetwise +6, Thievery +3, Athletics +1

FEATS
Level 1: Mark of Storm
Level 2: Tempest Magic

POWERS
Sorcerer at-will 1: Lightning Strike
Sorcerer at-will 1: Storm Walk
Sorcerer encounter 1: Thunder Slam
Sorcerer daily 1: Shocking Magnetism
Sorcerer utility 2: Spatial Trip

ITEMS
Cloth Armor (Basic Clothing), Adventurer's Kit, Staff Implement, Dagger, Magic Staff +1
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My story, like so many heroes before me, begins and ends in blood….

As
the High Priest prepared for our tribe’s yearly offering to Vulkoor, a
light rain began to fall, snuffing out a few of his black ritual candles
and smudging some scrolls. Muttering some curses, he looked up and
order me to fetch him some shelter to keep the rain off his work.  I had
just come of age and was to be initiated as a full member in the
Venomspike tribe, so I quickly hurried off to help. As I went to fetch
some poles and canopy for the tent, I couldn’t help to stop and admire
the scorpions to be used in the Scarring. The warriors had caught some
very impressively sized black and red scorpions about the size of Jin’da
Melons, but the one that really caught my eye was a huge white scorpion
about the size of a dog that thrashed and struck against its cage. It
had blue tipped claws that sparked and crackled with bright bolts of
energy and the warriors had jokingly named it “Stormclaw”. I had never
seen a scorpion such as this ever, let alone one used in the Scarring.
 As I looked into it’s cold black eyes I could feel it regarding me
almost as if it was judging me, and at that moment I knew it hated me.

At
sunset the ceremonies began despite the growing clouds that foretold of
a coming storm. There were twenty of us boys that were to be Scarred
that night and welcomed into the tribe. The Scarring was a blessing
bestowed upon us by Vulkoor and involved being stuck by a scorpion
usually on the back of the hand, resulting in a small circular scar that
stood out vividly white against our black skin. Each boy would be
matched to a scorpion by the throwing of bones and then spiritually
bonded through a ritual performed by the High Priest. Occasionally there
would be one who would be deemed unworthy by Vulkoor and would become
sick and die from the venom, but even with knowledge of the risk most
boys thought nothing of it since the mark distinguished them as a man
and full member of the tribe, thus beginning their training as a
warrior. Many of our warriors train with the very scorpions that Scarred
them and become hunting companions

The
chanting of the High Priest could hardly be heard over the crashing
thunder and pelting rain. You could feel the reverberations through the
old stone of the ruins we used as our home. The other boys had already
passed through their rites with little incident, although one boy had
fainted as the scorpion had stuck his hand and several others had called
out in agony.  They would be teased for weeks, but I didn’t care about
that as it was finally my turn. I walked slowly up to the alter and took
my place next to the High Priest, and turned to look as the warriors
brought out my chosen scorpion.  My heart turned to ice when I saw it
was Stormclaw. Why had this beast been chosen for me? Could I or, anyone
for that matter, withstand its venom? It took four warriors to grab it
and pull it from the cage. The High Priest began his chanting again to
bind our spirits together as they wrestled it over beside me. The rain
ran down my face and into my eyes blinding me momentarily, so I don’t
know exactly how it happened, but somehow Stormclaw broke free from the
warriors and had knocked three of them away down the steps of the alter.
The fourth stood there clutching the bloody stump of his arm where his
hand had once been. Before I could react, Stormclaw is in front of me
with his claws tightly around me. My arms are pinned to my sides and my
muscles involuntarily convulse with a sharp searing pain. With the
sudden clarity one gets before their own death, time slows down and I
see the razor sharp spike on the end of its tail rise straight into the
air, thick blue venom dripping off the tip. At that moment a bright line
of white fire lances from the sky and connects with the scorpion’s
stinger, sending sparks and fire hurling around us. Then slowly the the
scorpion’s tail springs forward and embeds itself in the flesh and bone
of my chest. For a split second I am one with the scorpion venom and
lightning and I am filled with a strange warmth that seems to grow and
grow until I can no longer contain it. Time returns to normal as the
scorpion’s body explodes, splattering me with chunks of ichor and I
slump to the ground. As I lay there, my vision fading rapidly, I stare
into the cold dead eyes of Stormclaw’s burnt husk and I know that he
hated me and I hate him, then everything goes black…

The
next few weeks are a blur for me as I was trapped within feverish
nightmares. Most of them depicting thousands and thousands of scorpions
crawling over me stinging me over and over, crawling into my nose and
mouth and stinging my tongue and throat only to rip their way out of my
stomach with impossibly sharp claws. Other figures approach me out of
the rain and mist, silhouetted by flashes of lightning, people and races
I have never seen before. Light skinned elves with demonic smirks upon
their faces, dirty humans wielding weapons of bright steel and wearing
armor covered in blood, and many more creatures distorted and twisted
all gather around me and just stare. All the while, storm clouds gather
and boil overhead creating wildly strange patterns, moving and reshaping
into creatures and faces. At one point the clouds seem to form the body
of a great dragon, its lips stretched wide and its tongue rolling out
of its mouth as it rumbles with deep thunderous laughter. Eventually a
figure approaches and holds out its hand, lifting me from the bed of
scorpions, through the storm ridden clouds and into the bright clear air
and sunshine. I try and try to see who my savior is, but the harder I
look, the darker the form becomes until I can no longer see anyone or
anything.

I
woke to find myself in my parents home lying in my bed. I look down at
my chest and see it is wrapped in layers of white linens and I feel a
flaring, burning sensation pulsing with my heartbeat. Carefully I peel
back the bandages to examine my wound where the scorpion struck me.
There in the center of my chest where a gaping hole should be, I see a
strange pattern of glowing lines spreading across my skin. They twist
and curl into the shape of a massive cloud with billowing rain falling
in silvery strands. A soft glow pulses with my heart and emanates from
the thin raised lines on my skin, but most of all it burned.

Weeks
passed as I continued my recovery. I was visited by what seemed like
every member of our village, each bearing gifts and lavishing generous
praise upon me.  I later found out that two of the warriors were grazed
by the scorpion’s barb and died instantly from the venom.  I was exalted
as the Chosen of Vulkoor for surviving the ordeal with Stormclaw, but
within I wanted nothing to do with Vulkoor or scorpions. My hatred
fuelled by the dreams left a bitter taste in my mouth regarding all
things scorpion and I no longer held the same beliefs as my people. I’ll
admit the reason may have been partly fear, but another part of me held
onto the figure from my dream and I thought there must be something
better out there.

It
was slow at first but I felt a change happening within me, not just a
belief change, but a real physical effect that seemed to be connect to
the mark upon my chest. One of the first changes that was immediately
noticeable was my temper was very quick to flare. Even the smallest
irritation brought me to the edge of a murderous wrath, it was all I
could do to hold back from striking out at the offending party. The next
change was happening around me during my anger bursts, I would notice
sharp claps of noise and bright flashes from the corner of my eyes.