Angus, level 1 Dwarf, Invoker Divine Covenant: Covenant of Preservation

FINAL ABILITY SCORES Str 10, Con 16, Dex 11, Int 15, Wis 18, Cha 8.

Starting Ability Scores Str 10, Con 14, Dex 11, Int 15, Wis 16, Cha 8.

AC: 16 Fort: 14 Reflex: 13 Will: 15 HP: 26 Surges: 9 Surge Value: 6

TRAINED SKILLS Religion, Endurance, Arcana, Insight.

FEATS 1: Ritual Caster 1: Staff Fighting

POWERS 1, At-Will: Grasping Shards 1, At-Will: Sun Strike 1, Encounter: Blades of Astral Fire 1, Daily: Binding Invocation of Chains

ITEMS Adventurer’s Kit, Hide Armor, Warhammer, Arcane Implement, Staff

RITUALS Fastidiousness, Hand of Fate


Transitional Period Angus was staring blearily into the forge as the morning bells rung. The warhammer’s plate had been in the fire for the last hour. The last three such plates had been ruined by various mistakes. Not adding the right amount of flour, or by not polishing the granite appropriately before forging. However, from the looks of this one, it would be a prime loaf of battle bread. As soon as the little halfling timepiece chimed, Angus donned his asbestos gloves and removed the hammer. After morning prayers, Angus presented the drwarven bread hammer to the priests for it’s blessing. Once the warhammer was blessed, Angus would be allowed to accompany the caravan to market. It took both the caravan and Angus most of the day to realize neither one made it to the same market.

Sigil and Dreams Angus woke in a cold sweat from the nightmare. This time, it was his caravan that wound up in Sigil, with him stuck on the Prime. On his way from The Terrible Pun inn to the Great Foundry, Angus reflected on the day he joined up with the Godsmen. It was just after figuring out that the caravan was nowhere to be found, and indeed, this market was not the human’s market. Angus heard the factotum’s voice above the crowd, telling all and sundry that if they would just apply themselves, they could improve their lot in life, both this one and the next. This resonated so strongly with the teachings of Moradain at the temple bakery, that Angus joined up right then and there.

An Anti-peak out on the town After a long day at the foundry, Angus typically went to Flavored Ethanol, a pub in the lower ward, run by a rogue modron. He was looking forward to an evening consisting of a nice drink, Lilliam, a tiefling and a new round of Machina, a card game (one with ever expanding types of cards). However, this evening, before Angus could make it to the pub, he was accosted by a drunken band of elves. They were demanding that he pay retribution for some imagined offense, and each one was armed to the teeth.

The Dark Minor: Can’t stand the taste of Dwarven Ale Major: His clan is being hunted down and killed on the Prime Material.


Planescape: The Peace of Bones nucleiclight