AUTHOR'S NOTES AND CREDITS:
 
 All priest spheres and granted powers are as per official entries in "From the 
Ashes," TSR's 2nd Edition revision of the World of Greyhawk. Likewise, major 
events noted in Dorian's personal history and magic item descriptions also 
spring from official sources in "The World of Greyhawk," "From the Ashes," 
and WGR4, "The Marklands," though many details and embellishments have 
been added which are consistent with the official chronicles.

  Literature has also been used as a source, a practice I highly recommend. 
Sasoon Siegfried's poem is adapted from a similar work by the real WW1 poet 
Siegfried Sasoon, and the "unnamed bard" referred to in the text is in fact 
Matthew Arnold, an Englishman who died in 1888. His poem is called "Dover 
Beach," though it is probably better known as the poem which Guy Montag 
reads to his wife's friends in Ray Bradbury's masterpiece "Fahrenheit 451."

   All other names, works, and entries are my own. 

  While entries in this file are all derived from Greyhawk sources, adaptation 
of Dorian and his items should not be difficult for DMs who use other worlds. 
The adventure described at the end of Dorian's personal history reflects his 
role as a pre-generated character for an adventure that I'm working on called 
"Curythwyln's Citadel," but DMs are free to alter this, or any other portion, in 
order to suit their own campaign and staging needs. Enjoy, and please don't 
hesitate to write and tell me what you think (74247,3033).

Viva Greyhawk Libre!

--Thalion Envinyatar, 
   Greyhawk Exchange Project



Part 1 = Personal  History
Part 2 = Statistics and Magic
 
***********[  DORIAN BEAUCHAMP: PERSONAL HISTORY  ]*************

  Nestled against the southern tip of the Gamboge Forest, the town of 
Arndulanth has traditionally been a thriving community, trading with the 
woodsmen of the forest and the demi-human mines in the nearby hills in an 
arrangement that brought prosperity to all. Your father was an officer in the 
Royal Army of Nyrond and a devout worshipper of Heironeous. You were his 
oldest son, and he strove mightily to ensure that you would follow in his faith 
and his footsteps.

  A diligent student, your natural talents served you well, and soon you had 
succeeded beyond even your father's ambitions. Accepted into the temple's 
special training programs in CY 569, you graduated in Fireseek (March) of 
573 a Paladin of the Order of the Copper Axe. Unlike your father, however, 
you chose a life of active service through adventure, drawing companions to 
you and forming the Lightbrothers Adventuring Company. 

  The early years were difficult, and several companions fell to the perils and 
hazards which accompany the adventuring life. Nevertheless, by CY 581 the 
group numbered fully 10 members, including a cadre of good friends with 
many years of service: Daumond the Invoker, a quiet man but dreadful in 
anger; his close friend Sasoon the Bard, always ready with tales of heroism 
and words to lift the spirit; and the brothers Max and Milon Maladar, devout 
priests of Heironeous and iron-fisted foes of evil. Well-known to the rulers of 
the Shield Lands for your dependability and daring, the Company found no 
shortage of patrons among the border lords. 

  In Wealsun (June) of the year 582, however, the Lightbrothers terminated 
their activities in the Shield Lands and headed back east to Arndulanth. 
Sasoon's amazing network of bards, travelers, and informants had always been 
one of the Company's most valuable assets, and this time was no exception. 
The news was shocking: Tenh had fallen to the barbarian hordes from 
Stonefist! Opportunities for adventure now beckoned closer to home. As the 
company prepared to set out from Arndulanth in the Spring of CY 583, 
however, ominous news began to arrive from every quarter: to the west, the 
forces of Iuz had overrun The Horned Society and attacked the Shield Lands, 
and a general war was now in progress. At home, meanwhile, rumours were 
flying regarding a mobilization for the reconquest of Tenh. To the south, Lord 
Kevaunt of the Prelacy of Almor had begun military preparations of his own, 
fearing a wider eastern war once Nyrond was preoccupied.

  The Company took counsel, and reached the conclusion that the fears of 
Kevaunt were probably justified- a wider war was indeed in the offing. While 
Sasoon headed west to Niole Dra in order to confer with friends, the Company 
elected to remain in Arndulanth, using its wealth and reputation to rally 
friends and townsfolk for king and country. Hard-won treasures went to pay 
for training and equipment, and behind this well-drilled force would stand 
the formidable prowess of the Lightbrothers. By the time Lord General 
Basmajenn arrived in town with the Royal Army of Nyrond, therefore, all was 
in readiness. Surely you would march forth and strike a  mighty blow for light 
ere all was done.

  Here, however, your foresight had failed. Though no stranger to battle, 
nothing could have prepared you for what lay ahead. Instead of a ride to 
victory and glory, the spring of CY 584 marked the beginning of a nightmare, 
as the great armies of Aerdy and Nyrond clashed in appalling scenes of 
carnage and destruction. Again and again, waves of fiend-driven Aerdy 
soldiers threw themselves against the Nyrondese, held back only by a thin wall 
of flesh and steel. The Lightbrothers and their Arndulanther brigade fought 
well and valiantly, but all too often you found yourselves ordered into foolish 
counter-attacks by Royal General Basmajenn and his staff, or forced to hold at 
all costs in poor locations. 

  Tired and overstretched by such exertions, the now reduced "Lions of 
Light" Brigade nevertheless found itself ordered onward into the Nyrondese 
counter-offensive against the "lightly manned" Aerdy entrenchments at 
Flessern Fields. The engagement was a disaster. Out of an initial strength of 
40,000, the Fifth Army suffered approximately 8,000 casualties in just two 
days; losses in your own brigade reached an appalling 50%. Beset by fiends 
and pinned down by hostile spell-casters, with several Lightbrothers already 
slain, all seemed lost. Only the Maladars' self-sacrificing heroism averted the 
brigade's complete destruction; for their bravery and a general's 
incompetence, Max and Milon were torn apart by fiends before your very 
eyes. Grieving, you shouted orders and somehow extracted your command. 

  For his part in the debacle, General Basmajenn was summoned before King 
Archibold himself; as punishment, he was promoted to Field Marshal. For 
Sasoon the bard, his was the last straw. His paeans to heroism and glory were 
silenced, his merry quips ashes in his mouth. A well-worn scroll carried in a 
tube at your belt contains one of the bard's final compositions, written during 
the grueling retreat from the Flessern:


"Good morning; good morning!" the General said
When we met him last week on the way to the line.
Now the soldiers he smiled at are most of 'em dead,
And we're cursing his staff for incompetent swine.
"He's a cheery old card," grunted Milon to Max
As they slogged toward the river with weapons and pack.
				*						*						*
But he did for them both with his plan of attack.
												- Sasoon Siegfried, CY 584


  Battered and reeling, the Nyrondese Fifth Army withdrew toward Innspa, 
where Field General Younard had wisely prepared extensive trench defenses 
and magical traps. Within a week of your arrival, however, a second Aerdy 
army materialized from the Adri Forest and the city found itself besieged 
from two sides. With Basmajenn injured and the front crumbling, General 
Younard desperately shouldered aside the Royal Marshal's hand-picked 
subordinate and assumed overall command. His moves were decisive, and 
successful. In some of the bloodiest and most intense fighting of the war, two 
Aerdy armies were broken on the field of battle. The defense had held. 

  In the wake of this triumph, however, disaster struck. Once the arrogant 
and inflexible Royal Marshal recovered from his wounds, he promptly made 
his own moves. Enraged by Younard's unauthorized actions (and perhaps by 
his comparative success as well), he promptly had the Field General arrested 
for insubordination. The case was quickly brought before King Archibold, 
where many spoke in Younard's defense, yourself prominent among them. 
Pressed to decide between the two men, the king opted instead for a 
"compromise": while he refused to punish the stalwart Younard, he would 
nonetheless stand behind his Royal Marshal. A commendation for the victory 
was awarded to Basmajenn, as was direct command of the entire Eastern Front. 
It was a terrible injustice, but Younard is an extremely lawful and obedient 
man. He accepted the decision, swallowed his pride, and publicly apologized 
to Basmajenn. Then he resigned himself to a trivial and subservient role for 
the remainder of the war. 

  Morale dropped sharply after that, but Emperor Ivid's madness in the wake 
of the defeat at Innspa convulsed the Great Kingdom and soon brought the 
Nyrondese a welcome respite. Oblivious to the cynicism and distrust of his 
troops and sub-commanders, however, the Royal Marshal resolved to 
undertake a glorious offensive campaign against the armies of the Great 
Kingdom. Unwilling to wait for the disintegration of the Empire, Basmajenn 
laid his plans swiftly. In Wealsun (June) of 584, he began his "Almoran 
Liberation Campaign."

  Disorganized and unsettled by their kingdom's disintegration, the Aerdy 
initially fought poorly, offering little effective resistance. Then the Nyrondese 
ran into Animus-General Szeffrin. Backed by malign spell workers and 
powerful fiends, "The Steel Warlord" met the Nyrondese armies at a quiet 
place called Kandred's Meadows. 

  Within 12 hours, the field had become a slaughterhouse. Dismissing those 
like yourself who counseled caution as "cowards and fools," Basmajenn 
ordered the Nyrondese into a frontal assault, with the Arndulanthers at the 
head of the wedge. Spells flew, and mighty beings clashed in the sky above; in 
some places, it seemed that Oerth itself screamed under the assault. As one 
hippogriff messenger-rider was later to report:


"...there is only that sinister brown belt, a strip of murdered nature. It seems 
to belong to another, darker plane. Every sign of humanity has been swept 
away. The woods and roads have vanished like chalk wiped from a black slate; 
of the villages nearby, nothing remains but grey smears. During heavy 
engagements and attacks I have seen fire and acid falling like rain...."
									(adapted from a pilot's description of Verdun, 1916)


  And there it was that your glorious dreams came to an end. Underneath the 
withering fire of Aerdy crossbows and spells, "The Lions of Light," friends and 
comrades for whom you had spent so much blood and treasure, simply ceased 
to exist. Daumond was slain by a summoned fiend during a duel with three 
enemy spellcasters, though a grim-faced Sasoon destroyed two of them with 
his wand before falling next to his friend. An axe flashes, destroying fiends, 
cleaving men. Men falling all around you, their surcoats a rainbow of different 
colours. Blood on the armor, on your hands - so much blood! The world gone 
mad, spinning out of control. Spinning....

  How youurvived, how you returned to safety are all unclear; indeed, your 
next clear memory is of waking up in a bed at a temple dedicated to the god 
Rao. Puzzled by the chill at the height of the summer, you summoned an 
acolyte - who amusedly informed you that such weather was normal for 
Fireseek (January). Of the intervening months between Wealsun (June) and 
Fireseek, you can remember nothing. From your attendants in the temple, 
however, you learned only that a grey-cowled man had brought you into the 
temple at Rel Mord, bound by magical chains and in the grip of a terrible 
madness. While the rest of Oerth ushered in the Year of Peace, the acolytes 
cared for you as best they could until the high priest himself could spare the 
time to attempt a cure. 

  Thanking them profusely for their efforts, you offered to pay them anything 
they asked - only to find that payment had already been arranged on your 
behalf, and that you were now free to return home.

  And so you returned to Arndulanth - not to parade or a heroes welcome, 
but to quiet despair and painful memories. Of the 520 brave souls who had 
followed your banner and set out from the town in CY 583, only two others 
had returned. Though overjoyed to see you, it was then that your sister 
delivered the final blow: the Tenh campaign had gone poorly, and your father 
had been called back to active duty while you were away. He did not return. 
Believing you both lost, your mother was overborne by grief. She died two 
months later, during Ready'reat. The physic's verdict: a defect of the heart.

  All the fighting, the brave words, the sacrifice. All for naught. "The 
Paladin's Code will make you strong," the priests had said, "strong enough to 
withstand any adversity in the pursuit of justice and glory." But justice had 
proven to be a mirage, and glory a cruel joke that had cost you your truest 
friends. 

  The Code had failed. It had failed you. It had failed your friends. And it 
had failed every one of those young boys who had marched off with you, never 
to return. Following it, you had failed, too. Thinking upon this, you are 
reminded of a scroll carried by your friend Sasoon during the last days of the 
war, and found again on your person by the acolytes of Rao. Written by some 
unknown bard, it reads:


The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and 'round Oerth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so helpful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here on a darkling lain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.



  Never again! you vowed. Never again would you lift up arms against 
another "for King and Country." Never again would you participate in the 
idiocy and useless sacrifice of war. Never again would you follow the path of 
Heironeous, The Valiant Warrior, whose credo had betrayed you all.

  The priests of Rao have their own sayings, however. One of them is "never 
say never." In late Readying (February) of 585, a visitor arrived at your door. 
He was a cleric of Rao, and his words of Peace and Mercy were a great comfort 
to you as you agonized over what to do with the remainder of your life. Slowly, 
persuasively, Father Jude told you of the world outside, and of the despair 
and chaos which wracked the kingdom. The grey-robed man who brought you 
to the temple was a member of an organization known as "The Sagacious 
Society," a shadowy group of scholars, mages, and adventurers dedicated to 
preserving Nyrond as a bastion of civilization, culture and learning. "Turn 
away from glory in battle," read the scroll brought by Father Jude, "for you 
know better than most the cruelty of this illusion. Where there is ignorance, 
come sow enlightenment. Where there is conflict, sow peace. Where there is 
weakness, offer the strength of thy arm - and of thy counsel. This was the 
credo of your friend Sasoon, and oft did he speak well of his friend and leader, 
Dorian Beauchamp. We invite you to find the strength within yourself to walk 
his path with us, and thereby to keep alive and honour his ideals and his 
memory."

  And so it was that you became a follower of Rao, and an agent of the 
Sagacious Society. Your shining Plate Mail and magical Axe were given away 
as gifts, to be used as the Society saw fit. In return, you were presented with 
magical chainmail to wear beneath your robes, and a magic staff "to lean on in 
your coming journeys." No longer would you serve as an agent of those who 
seek war for its own sake, or condone the appalling folly of killing "for king 
and country." Instead, you vowed to live by a better credo of peace and 
reason, which seeks the light of knowledge rather than glory and sees self-
defense as the last option rather than the first.

  For the remainder of the winter you traveled about Nyrond with Father 
Jude, serving as his acolyte during his journeys throughout northern Nyrond 
and learning from him the arts of peace and conciliation. In Planting (April) 
of 585, however, you arrived at Hendrenn Halgood to find a summons waiting 
for you from Duke Arnon Obrend. It seems that some friends of his needed 
the services of a capable adventurer in order to help them retrieve certain 
valuable items of magic. These items would be extremely useful to the Society, 
and especially to the hard-pressed gnomes of the Flinty Hills. For them the war 
continues without respite, but success in your mission may yet bring them 
some peace. You are to journey west to Highfolk, where agents will make 
contact with you and escort you to the next stop on your journey. Upon the 
successful completion of your assigned tasks, you are to use your charisma 
and new-found skills in order to procure an item known as The Orb of Shadow 
for the Society as your reward. The Orb is to be brought back to Highfolk, 
where transport will be arranged. Many lives may depend upon your success. 
Good Luck....   
 

******************[ STATISTICS ANMAGIC ]**********************

DORIAN BEAUCHAMP, (10th Paladin)// 4th Priest of Rao
Str. 16   Int. 12   Wis. 17   Dex. 11   Con. 15   Cha. 18
HPS. 73
AC:  3
AL: Lawful Good

SPELLS:  2x1st // 5x1st, 4x2nd.

SPHERES: Astral, Charm, Divination, Guardian, Healing, Law, Thought, 
               Numbers (min), Necromantic (min), Protection (min), Wards (min); 
               [PAL: Divination, Healing, Protection]  

GRANTED POWERS: [1st]  Friends spell, 1x/day.
                                  [4th] +2 on saves vs. illusions and mind-affecting spells.
                                  [7th]  Emotion spell (Calm), 1x/day.
                                  [9th]  True Seeing spell,	1x/day.
                                  TURN UNDEAD @ -4 levels (0 lvl, no ability yet)


N.B.  Dorian has forsaken his paladinhood, but still retains some vestiges of 
his former abilities:

*  His paladin spells are now granted by Rao, with the exception of the spheres 
of  Combat and War, which he no longer receives. 

*  Dorian's immunity to non-magical diseases has been left intact, and in 
extreme situations he may be able to successfully use his healing powers of 
Laying on Hands and Curing Disease. Nevertheless, the anguish which this 
causes him makes it truly a last-resort option, which he will avoid at almost all 
costs. 
(In game terms, I favour using DM judgment to determine success, in 
accordance with role-playing and its fit with the storyline; if you must use dice 
for this, however, the probability of success should not be less than 50%.)

*  Detect Evil no longer functions on command, but he still gets a tingling 
sensation at the base of his neck occasionally which warns him of potential 
trouble (DM's grant, use as plot device). 

*  As turning undead would require calling on the power of Heironeous, it no 
longer functions at all, though he will gain the ability again soon as a priest of 
Rao if he persists in his chosen path.


_MAGIC ITEMS_

+2 Chainmail
"Cane of Malcath" (see below)
Horn of Goodness
Ring of Sustenance

POTIONS: Healing, Elixir of Health, Philter of Persuasiveness. 
SCROLL [L9]: Find Traps, Dispel Magic, Thought Broadcast. 


* "Cane Of Malcath," +2 Quarterstaff.

  This weathered ashwood quarterstaff once belonged to Malcath, a High Priest 
of Rao who wandered Oerth in the fourth century CY. Patriarch Malcath was 
justly famed for his wise council and mediation skills, and it is said by some 
temple scholars that his quiet intervention was instrumental in ensuring the 
peaceful and gracious secession of the Urnst States from Nyrond at the end of 
the War Between Crowns in CY 356. That the economic strength of the Urnst 
states has become Nyrond's saving grace in these dark times is one of Istus' 
great ironies, and a shining example of Malcath's oft-repeated axiom that "in 
the end, no act of goodness is ever truly forgotten, or in vain." 

  The staff is LG in alignment, and any evil being attempting to grasp or wield 
it immediately takes 3-12 points of damage and is afflicted with Confusion as 
per the priest spell, no save. 

  At present, the staff has manifested certain powers, including the size 
alteration ability common to many magical quarterstaves (between 4' [cane] 
and 10', in this case) and the following spells, each cast once per day at the 
12th level of ability. These powers are activated by mental command, with no 
initiative modifier: 
 
* 'song of peace' (music of the spheres)
* suggestion
* genius

  These are the only powers currently usable by Dorian. The staff's full history 
and powers are chronicled in the temple's Codices of Moruesh, however, and 
appropriate powers are said to reveal themselves slowly as the bearer grows in 
knowledge and wisdom (deeds and study, therefore, not just levels). The array 
of powers which it has manifested over the years has even led some to suggest 
that the staff may change its powers to fit the needs and history of its wielder 
rather than having a set array of functions, a contention that remains a topic 
of civilized debate among temple archivists to this day. 

___________________________
(C)JOE KATZMAN, 1994; 
(Joe_Katzman@magic-bbs.corp.apple.com/ CompuServe 74247,3033)
  
All rights reserved. Like the other postings from this exchange, this posting 
is: (1) sed on materials published by TSR; and (2) for personal use only. 
Distribution is fine, even encouraged, but only if the sources are attributed 
and as long as it is distributed solely as freeware.
___________________________

ODDS N' ENDS: 

*  The name for Dorian's magic staff is derived from an acronym for the 
principal players at the Congress of Vienna, where the Great Powers of Europe 
agreed on conditions which maintained one of Europe's longest stretches of 
peace since Roman times: Prince von (M)etternich of Austria, Tsar 
(AL)exander I of Russia, Lord (CA)stlereagh of Great Britain, Foreign Minister 
(T)alleyrand of France, and Chancellor (H)ardenburg of Prussia. 

*   As for the Codices of Moruesh, that name is derived from the great martial 
artist and sifu Morihei Ueshiba, founder of the non-violent martial art of 
Aikido ("the way of blending energy").

*  Lastly, the nature of this character and implicit views expressed thereby 
should not be construed as an accurate reflection of the author's personal or 
political views. As author David Gerrold puts it his book, _A Rage for 
Revenge_: 

  "It may; equally, it may NOT. I have deliberately written much...that I 
disagree with, if for no other reason than to confound critics and academics, 
but primarily because you cannot have an interesting argument unless both 
sides get a fair hearing. In either case, armchair analysts will be on much 
safer ground to assert that my characters have seized on the responsibility for 
speaking for themselves and their own concerns."

  I couldn't have said it better myself.

-- Joe Katzman
    Toronto, Canada; 1994.
