Summary: This was the handout given to the player of Haft, one of four new players. It goes into detail on Agraspace, aswell as being the starting point for my "campaign logic" of sorcerors being from magically created life.

Agraspace. So named, according to the humans, elves, halflings, gnomes, dracon, giff, goblinoids, and every other race in the phlogiston because of its large, agricultural based economy, the name is actually wrong. Originally, when the dwarves of the clans discovered the large crystals, called Gortha, that they could use to fly their stone fortresses into space, the name was Aggrispace - because the dwarves found every new race they met to be more aggravating than the last.

The humans, well, they were ok. They were a bit too tall, causing the dwarves to crane their necks, and to many of them were just plain fools. The halflings, well, they wouldn't know an honest days work if it fell on them, but at least they grew damn fine tobacco. The gnomes, well, they were an insult to dwarven engineering, and deserved to be thrown onto a moon with the goblins to blow each other up. The dracons, giff, xichil (damn bugs) and others were all annoying, in fact - but none as much as the elves.

On the logging moon on Aradea they came, in their stupid bird-like "shrikeships", with their mottos of "don't hurt the trees", and "all life deserves to live". What a bunch of pansy hypocrites! Their ships were made of wood, and they built encampments out of logs they stole from the dwarven logging colonies. "Oh", they said, "It's ok for us, WE'RE in touch with NATURE. She WANTS us to use her, we KNOW what she wants us to use, and don't use the rest".

What a load of ogreshit.

Now the actual Imperial Elven Navy, so called for it's pansy uniforms no doubt, didn't "condone" these elven colonists and their ways. They were still tree huggers', no doubt, but at least they'd shut up and respect a dwarf's rights on his own damn moon! These other one's though, the Haenschpallese, or "hippies" as the dwarves called them, had the audacity to begin a full blown war with the lumberjacks! Flying on their stupid butterfly wings (which were all pinks and purples and such rubbish) they strafed the dwarven outposts, using fireballs to destroy them no less! Bloody idiots! "We'll save nature, by blowing it to friggin baator!"

One particular dwarf fought back with a vengeance. Half his face destroyed from a well-placed fireball, young Haft used nets, ropes, and a few of the outposts's ballistae to down the stupid flying faeries, quickly planting a good solid axe-blow to their stomach, legs, or arms (no use killing them straight off, might as well let em suffer). With a temper greater than any of the other dwarves in the entire kingdom, he hacked and slashed his way through the blasted pointy eared mages, who were only using scrolls given them by someone else to throw the fireballs anyway! Bad enough they were all high and mighty, they didn't even have the brains to fully use the magic themselves!

After the hippie colony lay decimated, the pansy's women and children fleeing on the few of those stupid bird ships that escaped, Haft was pronounced hero of the Aradea Felling, and granted diplomat status within the kingdom and it's allies, for his trouble. After spending a short time aiding the halflings of Graedor quell their own ogre problems, Haft returned to his kingdom (with a few crates of some nice Graedorian tabbac), only to find yet again the stupid hippies had come back, this time daring to attack the main dwarven world of Gortharin. With a fleet of stupidly bright painted butterfly ships, either stolen from (or possibly given to by) the IEN, they managed to down two huge dwarven citadels, the Dugmaren, the first citadel to fly into space some 200 years ago with a Gortha crystal, and no less than the Berronar, the flagship of the dwarven kingdom, named after the religious icon Berronar Truesilver, mother of the dwarves herself!!

War raged back and forth across the spheres for several years. The IEN stayed out of it as best it could, due to it's need for the grains and metals the dwarves sold them, but eventually, due to pressure from its "groundling" allies, was forced to side with the damn hippies. Luckily, the IEN had not quite counted on the dwarves citadels heavy armaments, or strength, nor the invention of the Velocity Cannons, a feat of dwarven engineering mixed with a lil human magic (both undesireable but necessary). These cannons were able to shoot small, magically explosive ceramic disks at ships, fired by Velocitators, members of a guild consisting mainly of dwarves (and a few lucky humans) with incredible aim and engineering skill.

The weapons, powered by the mana crystals the wizards of most spheres were purchasing at high cost in incredible amounts to power their own magic, drove the IEN back, forcing it to sign a neutrality treaty with the dwarves - the first time the power had been forced to do so since the beholder wars. Within half a year of the hippies loosing their main reinforcements, not to mention any tactical skill whatsoever, they were defeated, and flew once more to the remote corners of space, this time fleeing into the phlogiston.

The treaty with the IEN has stood sturdy as a dwarven colosseum for 25 years, almost 30 years having passed since the first hippie war. The dwarven kingdom's riches have grown immensely, due to the mana crystals being mined and sold constantly, the alliance/federation with the Graedorian halflings, the sale of the metals and raw ores, both common and rare, throughout the spheres, and the energy rich vegetables and fruits grown within the sphere, mainly sold to giff mercenary forces, considering they eat solely veggies.

Now, however, a threat has appeared. The IEN has been increasing patrols in the sphere, which is within the bounds of the neutrality treaty, but seems a bit pushy to the dwarves. There is speak of war in nearby spheres, a resurgance of something that was finished, supposedly, over a thousand years ago. Of course, it was the damn elves who fought it, so no wonder it's now come back to bite them in their skinny little asses. Goblinoids, the talk says, ogres, kobolds, hob and non hob goblins, bugbears (so called because they always bug dwarves until they get slaughtered), and some strange new strain of orc. Likely it's just orcs with a slightly bigger pair of tusks, or perhaps a slightly different shade of green fur. More likely they'll still bleed red when they die, though.

Or at least, that's what Haft thought, when he volunteered to go the bony faced wanker's "armada", and hear their stupid "war reports" and "proof of threat to aggrispace".

Travelling to the nearby sphere of spiralspace, on one of those ridiculously flimsy butterfly P.O.S.'s the elve's call man-o-war's (you'd at least think they'd call em elf-o-war's but noooo), Haft enjoyed his first travel through the phlogiston - for the first five minutes. After he had lighted his pipe and nearly blown his lips off (not to mention cracking a good solid pipe), the only stupid elf on the ship speaking common forgetting to mention the flow's explosive nature, Haft found the flow was slightly… wobbly. The elves, and the few humans he had talked to back on Gortharin, said all spatial sailing was as smooth as a gnomes bald head, so obviously their equilibrium's were not as "equal" as a dwarves, as Haft could feel nearly every tiny swell within the flow. "What a great skill" the idiot elf said, "You could pilot in the flow by feel" he said, "I wish I had a gift like that", he said. Well, he didn't say much after Haft lost his (crappily elven meatless) lunch over him.

So volunteering was mistake #1.

Eventually, however, after what seemed like an eternity, the ship made it to spiralspace, and to the base within - the gigantic poofy elven armada known as the Crown of Corellon. Fair enough - the citadel's upon it, and the basic engineering precepts were nicely thought out, at least with a little patience compared to the humans and certainly compared to the gnomes, but what a frikking monstrosity with those stupid wings and sails and whatnot! Why can't the stupid elves just use Gortha crystals like the dwarves, instead of these ridiculous "living" ships, which would likely catch on fire with the smallest barrel of smoke powder (another dwarven export), let alone protect those inside from attack, and then have SOLID ships!

Well, admittedly, the dwarves didn't sell them any when they asked, setting the price so high it was not economically viable, but they expected the IEN to haggle, and certainly to have something more useful than poofy jewellery and clothing for trade! Their fault, not the dwarves, straight up! In any case, Haft thought he coulda likely spent a week aboard the armada, and should the ridiculously long legged, armed, torso'ed, and everything else'd (well not everything) elves have allowed him, at least bolster and armour plate the base somewhat, to prove how much the elve's WOULD need the dwarves if there really WAS a war with the orcs (orcs for fucks sake!).

NOT doing this, when he arrived, was mistake #2.

Only a week after arriving, Haft ended sitting in a metal barred cage, on the other side of the armada's gravity plane, in the hold deck (bad enough they look like shit, the damn ships had gravity the other way around halfway through, more lunch lost!). Most of the elves, however, were not so lucky, torn to shreds by the deep red, black, and green furred orcs, who stormed the base. Coming in ships made of metal (the dwarves thought stone was good enough, but these idiots calling themselves scro had to try and outdo them), shaped like mantis', with more ships made of wood and shells and the gods knows what else, the scro force decimated the base's defenses, barely being touched by their pansy's weapons.

After slaughtering 90% of the base's crew (keeping only them women for "entertainment" - not that those skinny bitches could be any fun), and locking Haft in this holding cell, they ended up drinking, singing, and most shockingly of all, practicing for more combat! The drinking and singing Haft could put up with was enough, but the orcs of his homeworld (driven long into the bowels of the planet by the dwarves) never had any organization, let alone military authority and respect rivalling the giff (although it still wasn't anywhere near as good as dwarven).

A few scro talked to him, mainly the commander of the group, known as Allmighty Leader Dushgoi. He listened to a few tales of killing pansy elven mages, and seemed quite amused, until, just to rile up the bastard, who would only feed Haft the stupid elven foods and wouldn't let him smoke, Haft mentioned enjoying slaughtering orcs at a young age on the homeworld of Gortharin. Quickly backhanding the dwarf, with a great strength in him, the leader suddenly lost all interest in Haft, except for attempting to pump him for information. From the sounds of it, he had quickly picked up on the dwarves passion for mining and stone and metalwork, and figured that Gortharin would be rich in resources. Unfortunately, he was right, and had Haft thought for a second the bastard was that cluey, he would never have been raving on with the scro about the elve's inadequacies.

That was mistake #3.

Now, Haft is facing possible starvation (stupid elven foods), or execution (stupid scro not appreciating being called a big, fat, dumbass, hairy backed, snout nosed orc), unless some sort of rescue arrives. His axe, and his gear, are only 50 feet across the hold, knowing even though his back is to them and he is unable to see them from being chained to the cage, but hearing the scro throw his nice heavy axe there on his capture. Obviously, if the elves don't want to suffer the wrath of the dwarves, they HAVE to rescue him, he's a diplomat after all, and once they do, he's gunna find the most heavily armed ship they have and try to get back home. Even if he hasta carve his way through a hundred of these scro (which is preferable to not having to) to get there, he must warn his king of the impending scro "interest" in the dwarven mines, and, as horrible as it may sound, suggest the king agree to this farce of an alliance with the elves.

They may be poncy, skinny, good-for-nothing tree-huggers, but no one's women deserves the atrocities visited upon them by the scro time and time again, Haft forced to listen to it night after night trying to fall asleep. Worse, with the fighting efficiency of the scro, and the possible numbers and strength of tactics shown on the elve's war-maps, the dwarves may, at some stage, for a minor battle here and there, just to prevent a great loss on their own behalf, need a few elven ships (just the ships, not the elves, in fact, it'd be better if it was just the ships), to throw the enemy off guard. Yes. Off guard. The dwarves won't NEED them, just, yeah, it'd be handy.

Or is that mistake #4?.

Haft is probably about 120 something years old, if you don't mind, and has spent time "educating" elven hippy mages (more than anything else), slaying orcs on "party raids" into Gortharin's depths, and aided in "bringing down" a few idiotic, purple and blue skinned ogres with a few halflings. Obviously, he is now captured by the scro, in dire need of rescue, thus :-

Once rescued, so as to at least not be stuck with two or tree score singing bloody elves, Haft would be able to use his diplomatic status amongst the IEN to demand passage upon the PC's ship, with the intention of getting home to warn his kingdom. The IEN, of course, will readily agree to this, as most of their ships are dedicated to objectives, and they definitely want (and need) the Aggrispace fleet(s) on their side.

During Haft's time with the Allmighty Leader Dushgoi, he also learned that the scro will soon be attacking the rock of bral, some human asteroid port that does a multi-spheric orbit (currently about to leave krynnspace, relatively close by). For plot reasons I would like Haft NOT to tell the IEN this, but instead to tell the PC's after the small IEN fleet leaves them, just in casual conversation. This is because Haft will assume it is not an important port (not having heard of it), or that it is anywhere closeby (in other words, it is, but Haft doesn't know this, and is more concerned with his own homeworld).

In this I hope to achieve a small "discussion" between the entire party and Haft, wherein he "happens to mention" the impending attack upon "this bral rock", and then causing a small (likely) argument on where the ship should head - aggrispace or the rock of bral. My preference, I will not let known, and nor will I let you know if there are consequences based upon the decision. Just remember one thing though - play in character well, and remember everyone else will.

Stat's wise I'm starting you at level 5, and I would prefer you to be a sundered dwarf, as they get a bonus to strength, and are DAMN hardy. The actual name won't be sundered, however, it will be Lumber, whereas the dwarves on the Gortharin homeworld are known as Gortha dwarves (stats as Mountain Dwarves), the one's running the many mines in the system are known as Ore dwarves (Deep Dwarves), and those taking care of the agriculatural side of things are called the Farm dwarves (Hill Dwarves minus infravision, but with +1 to wisdom). There are also gully dwarves (known as Barnacle Dwarves) within the sphere, mainly on Gortharin itself, and the outlying mining colonies (they make good, cheap labour). There are rumours of Depth Dwarves (duergar) on Gortharin, and there is talk of, in a few outlying mining facilities, Asteroid Dwarves, who are evil, and, somehow, practice magic, like the humans.

I'll start you with split or platemail +1 (your choice which, based on personal preference), and on the base xp for lv 5 warrior. I have read the wizard slayer in BG2, and the idea sounds fine, but we'll do things slightly different. Instead of only 1% magic res per level, I'll give you 2, and I'll also give you the following proficiencies. Note that in truth, the hippies were not wizards, but sorcerors (slightly different casting system, but still throw fireballs).

A character with this proficiency can, naturally, detect the prescence of a sorceror. This power is checked by the DM, in secret, anytime a sorceror comes within 50 feet of the character (unless said sorceror has the ability to conceal his ability) - thus it is suggested that DM's keep a record of the character's ability check.

The check rolled does not actually determine success or failure, but rather the time taken to pinpoint the sorceror. The table below the base time, dependant upon detectors level, that it takes for the character to detect the general prescence of a sorceror. The second table shows the time required to poinpoint the sorceror (or sorcerors, plural) location(s). Only one check is required, regardless of the number of sorcerors close-by.

As can be seen, the higher the level, and the better the check, the quicker one is likely to detect sorcerous ability.

A campaign with this proficiency causes sorcerors to leave an aura behind where he has been, alerting other sorcerors (upon a successful check), and wizards/priests with appropriate spells (to be listed at a later time) to the length of time since the casting, the spell(s) cast, and the ability to recognise the person who cast them (sorcerors receive a piece of information for every 3 levels they possess, per check, while wizards and priests with this ability require a check for each piece of information). It also allows them to track a sorceror's course, but it does fade with time. Trails of spells last for 1 week per spell level + character level, while trails of the actual sorceror himself last for 1 week per character level - both last so long, and are based thus due to the more powerful energies in use etc.

Some instances, such as high-powered spell combats, the passage of many sorcerors of great power, or of a single sorceror of immense power, leave an almost permanent trail - an eerie, creepy feeling to non-sorcerors entering the area, and an almost complete record of the actions taken/spells cast or sorceror(s) passing the area.

Failure on this proficiency's check means the character cannot gleem any information from the trail/energies, but a failure on a tracking check still gives the rough direction, but no specifics over 500 feet (ie, on a pass, the character can find exactly which way a sorceror has gone, but on a failure, he must roughly follow the path, and determine where it turns from the sudden loss of the energies).

Note you can use this proficiency regardless of not being a sorceror, just on basic principal J. You see sorcerous trails naturally, as do some other Lumber dwarves (possibly related to their innate ability to pick rotting wood, they can pick magic elves). You see them as faint lines on the ground or in the air, and this was how you trapped so many of the hippies. I'm sorry if this changes how you were thinking of stuff, but the sorceror is basically a mage, with less known spells, no spellbook, but able to cast more spells a day.

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