Traveler's Rest

Thomkin wandered out of the kitchen of the Traveler's Rest, where he'd been working on some special 4-alarm stew, using something called a habenero that Erica, that perpetually annoying witch, had brought him. Actually the witch had been annoying him quite a bit as of late. Every time she’d seen him in the last month, she’d kept blathering on about it being time for his "conversion to 3.5." "Again with the editions," he muttered. "I'm not a freakin' book, I tell ya." Just then, he noticed Wilomina sitting at a table, minus her own pesky companion.

He continued his wander right over to her table and asked, "So where's Melvin? I don't think I've seen you without him on your pretty little tail for a month."

Wilomina, who'd been sitting there with her eyes closed, one foot up on the adjacent chair, peeked one eye at Thom. "Oh, it's wonderful. He's found a new friend, some bard fellow. The two of them have been inseparable for three days now. I've just been enjoying the quiet."

She was just about to order an ale, when suddenly Melvin burst in excitedly with a short guy in baggy clothes close behind. "Miss Wilomina! Miss Wilomina!" he called out, fairly bursting. Wilomina slowly closed the one open eye, and then squished both of them shut, as if praying for divine intervention. Peeking again, she realized this wasn't working. With a sigh, she answered, "Yes, Melvin."

"Buster and I have an idea to raise money for the temple. Wanna see?"

"Actually, Melvin, I was just..."

It was too late. Buster, the bard, and Melvin were already getting into position. "We're gonna do an act together, see," said Melvin as he tucked his robe into his belt, samaui-style. "Buster's teaching me somersaults and stuff. Later, when I learn them, I can use levitation and fly spells to really make the act spectacular. Let's show her, Buster." Buster, a solemn little fellow, just nodded his compliance and put his hands out for Melvin's foot. He then threw Melvin into the air where, to his credit, Melvin did indeed do a nice back flip. However, his landing, sadly, left a bit to be desired. He came crashing down on Wilomina's table, which collapsed, narrowly missing Wilomina.

From somewhere near the ground could be heard a feeble, "Ta da."

This was followed by clapping, coming from Buster. "I'm teaching him slapstick, actually," said Buster, eyebrows raised in an innocent expression. "He'd doing quite well, don't you think?"

"Out."

"What's that, Mister Ballyforth?"

"Out!"

"But don't you want to hire us?"

"OUT!!!!"

Melvin Ostrander (3.5 compatible)
Neutral Good, 1st Level Wizard
Human Male, 18 years old
Light Brown hair, Blue eyes
5' 8", 140 lbs.

Hp: 4
AC: 12
Initiative modifier: 2
Base Attack: 0

Weapons: Quarterstaff, Light Cross Bow
Armor: None

Feats: (B) Summon Familiar, (B) Scribe Scroll, Combat Casting, Endurance

Languages: Common, Elven, Draconic, Sylvan

Equipment: backpack, robe, belt, hard boots, glasses, components pouch, 2 small and 2 large pouches, lantern, lantern oil, rations, silk rope, flint and steel, Quarterstaff, Light Crossbow and bolts, cat rations (in preparation for familiar he wants to summon), 10 parchments with ink and pen, flask with dwarven ale, scroll case, spellbook.

Background:
Melvin is a bit odd for a wizard. He's stronger than one would expect him to be, and thinks too much like a fighter. Considering he grew up in a family of fighters, this was probably to be expected. The family consisted of his dad, three brothers and him for most of his childhood. When Melvin was a young boy, he was taught by his mother to read and respect knowledge in all forms. He'd been a bit bookish in those early days, something his father never could understand. It galled him that one of his sons was a weakling, and intermittently he would try to toughen the boy up, with limited success while the boy's mother was around. That changed one day when this mother decided to leave one day, having gotten sick of the father's violent ways, and lack of culture. Additionally, Melvin's father was a bit of a nomad by nature, and most endeavors he attempted that didn't have to do with fighting had failed. The family moved constantly, and there was never enough money. Melvin's mother had tried to take Melvin with her, but his father had objected, violently. From that time on, Melvin tried to honor his mother's memory by continuing his studies, while doing the physical training that would please his father. He has been able to combine the two disciplines to some extent by learning mostly combat-oriented spells.
Eventually, Melvin was kicked out of the house by his father with the instructions, "Go make a man out of yourself." He's tried to do that, though adventuring mostly. And he also tries to please whoever he is adventuring with, as he had tried to please his mother and father. He has none of his father's temper and is a sweet boy really, if a bit too eager and decidedly too hyper.

Buster the Bard (3.5 compatible)
Neutral Good, 2nd Level Bard
Human Male, 22 years old
Dark Brown hair, Brown Eyes
5' 8", 140 lbs.

Hp: 18
AC: 17

Initiative modifier: 7
Base Attack: 1

Weapons: Rapier, Long Bow, Whip

Armor: Chain Shirt (for those off-duty hours when not clowning)

Feats: Improved Initiative, Dodge

Special Abilities: Bardic Music, Bardic Knowledge, Counter Song, Fascinate.

Languages: Common, Elven, Sylvan

Equipment: tunic, breeches, soft boots, bedroll, backpack, silk rope, rations, 2 small sacks, bag o' caltrops, Chain Shirt, Long Bow and Quiver of arrows, Whip, Rapier, mace (picked up somewhere).

Background:
Buster was born into a family of performers who toured the country side, to varying success. He crawled onto the stage when he was two, and has rarely left it. He toured with his family, with whom he’d developed a buffoon act, until his father’s drinking brought that to an end. Left with little or no money (Buster was never very good with the stuff), he managed to get a job as an apprentice to a comedian from the same guild as his parents, a rotund comedian and adventurer nicknamed Fats. Buster was content to play second fiddle to Fats, and learn all he could from him about both comedy and adventuring, never aspiring to more until sadly, as rotund folks will sometimes do, Fats just sort of keeled over one day, mid-adventure. Buster, somewhat reluctantly, went out on his own. He supplements his performing income by going out on the occasional adventure.

A gentle and generous soul, Buster only really aspires to making people laugh and feel better. The fact that he can get money for such endeavors never ceases to be a source of amazement to him. Nevertheless, he has little savvy for money and never seems to have much in his pocket, which isn’t usually a problem since most people feel a need to mother the little fellow and take care of him anyway.

(c) 2003 by Erica Woollums