“Look, I know that Mask is the Master of all Thieves. But I ain’t a thief! There are occasions when something belongs to someone that shouldn’t have it. I only help liberate these goods from awful folk. Luckily, most rich folk are awful. And yes, I know that Leira is the Guardian of Liars. You ask a lot of questions for someone who’s paying ‘special rate’ for a lock removal.” -"Twokey" Trindle
Artificiers' Lore: I gain twice my proficiency bonus on history checks when technology or gadgets are involved.
Darkvision: Out to a distance of 60', I can see through nonmagical darkness. Sadly, this vision is monochromatic.
Gnomish Cunning: Due to my superior gnomish wits, I gain advantage on Int, Wis, and Cha saves against magic.
Tinker: I can, with 10gp worth of parts, create small gadgets and tools. These tools must be maintained daily, or they will cease to work.
Cunning Action: As a bonus action on my turn, I can take an Aim, Dash, Disengage, or Hide action.
Expertise: I have honed my skills in Insight, Investigation, and Perception, as well as with my thieves' tools, and gain twice the usual proficiency bonus when using them.
Sneak Attack: Once per turn, if I have advantage against an enemy, or if they're busy fighting someone else, I can add 1d6 damage to my attack against them.
Spellcasting: So, apparently once I hit 3rd level, I learned some basic magic! There's a lot of rules, apparently, but I'm kinda a wizard. Also, just to make things weird, I also decided that tinkering could get even better. So now I'm also an artificer.
Magical Tinkering: I can make a couple more neat toys, and imbue them with magic. It's a fun combo with my old hobbies.
My mom thinks I'm a snappy dresser.
Artisan of the Guild of Locksmiths & Finesmiths
Lucky: Three times per long rest, I can spend a luck point to roll with advantage or make an attack against me have disadvantage.
Spell Sniper: When I make a ranged spell attack, the range is doubled. Additionally, my ranged spell attacks ignore 1/2 & 3/4 Cover. I also learned Fire Bolt.
Once, I caught a pigeon.
Spell DC: 13 Spells Known: 7 | Spell Slots: 1st: 4 2nd: 2
- Fire Bolt: Blue flame gathers around my forearm and leaps from my hand.
- Mage Hand: A spectral blue hand appears that can turn invisible, and can perform most light actions up to 30 feet away.
- Mending: Flourishing my tools, a blue glow radiates from a damaged item as I tease the broken fibres of the weave back together.
- Message: I can whisper a message into people's heads, up to 120 feet away. I have to see them if I don't know them.
- Prestidigitation: Oh man, I can make all SORTS of cool things happen.
- Sword Burst: Raising my hand up, my fingertips turn into magical blades. As I plunge my hand into the ground, those blades leap out of the ground all around me.
- Cure Wounds: My fingertips split apart and become small pincers, holding the wounded area together and mending the flesh.
- Find Familiar: This is how I can call Poe to come hang out, or help him change shape.
- Grease: A small shimmering blue ball gathers in the palm of my hand, which I can throw to cover an area in magical grease.
- Silent Image: While holding my hand in front of me, it projects an image of my choosing.
- Sleep: Tendrils of grey fog erupt from my fingers into the eyes of the affected targets, casting them into a deep sleep.
- Shatter: A ball of pulsating air gathers around my arm, then leaps away, blasting an area with sonic energy.
- Suggestion: I wave my faintly glowing hand and speak to my target, implanting a course of action for them to perform.
- Coins: 40 cp • 25 sp • 0 ep • 37 gp • 17 pp • Other coins: x
- Gems: Opal (100gp)
- Cloak of Elvenkind
- Cylandor's Misty Step
- Gloves of Swimming and Climbing
- Stone of Good Luck: While this polished agate is on my person, I gain a +1 to ability checks and saving throws.
- I have a weird, multicolored glass cube that turns a container of water into a bubblebath. Doesn't change the temperature, though.
- UNATTUNED Artificer's Loupe: Once per short or long rest, I can use my loupe to gain advantage on an arcana or history check, or cast detect magic or identify.
- Prima - Riding Pony: Picked her up at the pony ranch in Triboar.
- Patience - Mule: She's a good girl, been through a lot.
- Poe - Fae Familiar: Currently a Magpie/Racoon Gryphon.
- In Hand: Screwdriver
- Worn: Dark brown & black Studded Leather Armor covered in tools, Timedial Bracer (Tinker's gadget, magic focus), Longbow +1
- Belt: Dagger, Tinker's Tools, Quiver
- Bag of Holding: 50' Silk Rope, Thieves' Tools, Locksmiths' Tools, Burglars' Pack, Guild Letters, Extra Parts for Gadgets (3), Travelers' Clothes
- Saddlebag: Hand Crossbow, Quiver with 20 bolts, Short Sword, 100' Silk Rope, Fine Clothes, Bedroll, Rations
- 50PP at Temple Bank
- Modest: (1 gp/day).
Faction & Organization Lore
The following are locations and people you know are associated with the Darburl, and to whom you can go should you be in the area. Other areas may have Darburl representatives, but they are not currently known to you. (Mothers & Fathers are leaders in the organization; Aunts & Uncles are lieutenants, each usually with a specialty of some kind.)
- The Delimbiyr Vale: Daggerford: Mother Arcric, the halfling barkeep at Tyrmora's Cup.
- Nightstone: Uncle Dunlis Arcri, stablemaster at the inn in Nightstone.
- The Dessarin Valley: Westbridge: Father Thentilyr, a half-orc who runs a local slaughterhouse
- Triboar: Aunt Klethja Thentilyr, a gnome farmer at the Goldshine Farm, who specializes in recruitment.
- Yartar: Uncle Discretion Thentilyr, a tiefling fence and smuggler, who operates a message and package courier service
- The Sword Mountains: Leilon: Mother Thentilyr, a dwarf woman who runs an eatery
- Waterdeep: Aunt Alindue Thentilyr, a festhall opera singer who specializes in contacts
- The Silver Marches & Delzoun:' Everlund: Mother Dlarhund, a genderfluid half-elf innkeep
- Sundabar: Uncle Kentar Dlarhund, a dwarven washerman
- Neverwinter Wood: Helm's Hold: Father Dlarhund, a rotund human fighter who teaches combat skills
- The Frozenfar: Mirabar: Father Arcri, a young human finesmith
I grew up in a pretty normal family, really. Mom's an alchemist, and Dad does glassblowing, so I knew from a young age about the grey areas that surround legit business. When I got my letters and tools from the Larks & Fancies, I started getting a reputation as having a fine hand, so some fancier folks started asking for Trindle locks. I obliged, the money was good, but I can tell you that I was floored by the places these folks live in. Like, you think you know what fancy is by the outside, but the INSIDES. It's obscene, is what it is.
One day, I watched a customer turn away every request for charity while eating a lunch that could have stocked a soup kitchen. Made him a damn fine lock, and made note of his lightweight window latches. Told someone who told someone, and I made sure I was having a pleasant meal in my favorite tavern that night. The Thieves' Guild asked me to join, then, and I saw the merit in their arguments.
So, I do my job. And if some skinflint fatcat is getting so much gold that he's attracting ravens? Well, I know someone who can let the ravens walk right in.
The money's great, and I like the challenge.
Oh, and I sold the prick new latches, three days later.
Introduction to the Weave
So, my friends and I were out in the Dessarin Valley, trying to help stem the damage from a buncha giant attacks. Don't ask. Anyway, while we were checking in on the dryad grove in the Blackwoods, I was utterly enchanted with the beauty. Of the woods. Okay, and maybe the Dryad. ANYWAY, apparently the woods felt the same way, and that night while I was sleeping, I was overwhelmed by visions of the grove.
I woke up covered in sweat, gasping for air, and the world looked different. Everything was, I don't know how to explain it, but shimmering? My pack was wavering like a mirage on a midsummer day, and then I realized that it was also moving. I didn't feel any fear by then, but I still don't know why. The flap on my bag fell open, and a large blue weasel crawled out. It sniffed around the floor for a moment, looked up and locked eyes with me. I sat up slowly in the giant bed, and it padded slowly across the floor toward me. We never broke eye contact.
When it reached the bed, I put my arm down. It sniffed around my clockwork bracer, then stared back up at me. I felt a nagging question at the back of my consciousness, like I'd forgotten to do something yesterday but couldn't even remember what it was. I tried to remember what I had never forgotten, and felt the weasel enter my mind. "My name is Poe. And you will need my help." And then, I swear to the gods, my friggin clockwork hand started GLOWING.
My life is weird, man.
The Artificer's Birth
Well, that was a hell of a day. An absolute bevy of evil little mind-fuckers to wade through, and it looked pretty sketchy for a hot fucking minute. Poe got hit, thank goodness for semi-corporeal temporary forms, huh? But once the last brainsucker dropped, we found a broken altar that allowed Ahkeron to take control of the place, and long story short, we’d officially got a base.
After everything wrapped up, we found that we could see out of the mists surrounding the tower just fine, and Oboth had guards up around the marker stone we used to get in here. Well. None of us were up for another fight right then, so we had time to check the new digs out a bit before we went back to town. That was fine by me, I’ve gotten really used to having Poe around, so I needed to get him a new body. Plus, that workshop made my fingers itch.
I went down through the greenhouse, my nostrils filling with the smell of warm earth and plants. Making a note to set my hammock up in there, I went down the next flight of stairs into the workshop, where I set down my stuff and took a few deep breaths. As my fingers brushed over the unfamiliar tools, I organized my thoughts to touch the weave and bring Poe back to visit our plane once again.
As I sat, my mechanical hand rattled against the stone floor, gears turning as the finger-pads found purchase. I shifted into a comfortable position, took another deep breath, and mentally reached in, and then OUT, pulling some power from the fabric of reality to call forth my friend. As I raised my hands, gathering the glistening threads to shape my spell, my left hand suddenly spasmed, and then burst into blue flame.
As the shock wore off, but before panic could set in, Poe’s presence came into my mind again. I know, it’s apparently got a revolving door.
“Good evening, Ludvig. Many thanks for allowing me to continue on your journey. Oh, and we need to talk again.”
“Uhh, heya Poe, any idea what’s up with the hand?”
“Well, that’s part of what we need to talk about. You see, you’re doing well, but it looks like you and your friends could use a little more help.”
The flame leapt away and coalesced into a small, sinewy gryphon with black and white plumage and a ring tail. Though the flame was gone, the familiar blue glow continued to radiate from my hand.
“That’s some nice plumage, Poe. And I’d agree, that last fight was a little closer than any of us liked. Now, what kind of “help” are we talking about, and what’s in it for you?”
- Felgolos: Friend, juvenile bronze dragon
Oh, Fel? He's a great guy. Unlucky as anything, though. Met him in the Blacklake district of Neverwinter when I was visiting family as a teenager. Apparently he was trying to impress a young stablemaid by doing a circus trick, and he sneezed while breathing fire. Unfortunately he's a dragon, and his lightning breath brought down a support beam. Caused three entire lumber teams to stampede, all told. The guard were on him, he ran into me looking for a safe space. I know what it's like to need a place to hide, we've been buddies ever since.
Then there was the time he was trying to bust up a Zhent smuggling ring. He'd followed them into Daggerford, found their warehouse front, and even figured out where their hidden vault was. I was in town doing some work for the Duke's son, and we were going to go steal some proof and get them shut down. But then he decided to go in by himself, and got there maybe ten minutes after they'd moved the product. While he was "looking for clues", a stray cat knocked over a box, locking him in the damn thing. When I didn't see him around the whole next day, I went looking. Got to the warehouse and heard him calling for help. Took two damn hours to shift that bastard of a lock, no lie.
I swear, the guy can't win for losing. I feel luckier just in comparison.
- Fayette Trindle: Mother
Mom's pretty great, all told. She also loves to cook, more's the pity. She's a master alchemist, but not a great chef. Her food tends to be a little off-taste, or just the wrong color and texture. You wouldn't think that's so bad, but have you ever tried to eat a chicken leg that's the color and texture of a fig? But if you need any, shall we say, interesting substances? She's a good place to start.
- Torrum Trindle: Father
Dad's a sweetheart, especially where mom's concerned. They've been together over a century, and I'm pretty sure he hasn't had a sense of smell for almost the whole time. If you need a glass flask, phial, or some labware, he's a genius. And he can make 'em with an inner cavity that'll be invisible if you've got an opaque carrier liquid. Handy as anything if you'd like to sell someone a shot of Dreamdraught that looks like a bottle of stout.
- Derwen Lentash: Mentor, Master Finesmith, High Elf
Derwin is a real inspiration. I've watched them make a silver filigree that looked like shining lace, and moved like silk. I have no idea why they took me under their wing, but I'm grateful. They've taught me that it takes real understanding to make something elegant. You can't just make the metal do what you want, you've got to know how it's going to act, and plan accordingly. I hope that one day I'll make a piece they're really proud of.