The Newer Lands
The Worst Shaman in the World
Imre, level 23
Wilden, Druid (Sentinel), Steadfast Sentinel, Mythic Spirit
Season: Druid of Spring
Druid Wilderness Knacks Option: Herb Lore (Druid)
Druid Wilderness Knacks Option: Beast Empathy (Druid)
Foretold Destiny Option: Foretold Destiny Wisdom
Hardy Form Option: Hardy Form Reflex
Aspect of the Cultivator Option: Aspect of the Ancients
Geography – Forest (+2 to Nature)
FINAL ABILITY SCORES
STR 20, CON 22, DEX 20, INT 20, WIS 28, CHA 20
STARTING ABILITY SCORES
STR 18, CON 15, DEX 17, INT 18, WIS 18, CHA 18
AC: 38 Fort: 37 Ref: 35 Will: 37
HP: 144 Surges: 13 Surge Value: 36
Endurance +22, Insight +25, Nature +34, Perception +25
Acrobatics +16, Arcana +18, Athletics +16, Bluff +16, Diplomacy +16, Dungeoneering +22, Heal +22, History +20, Intimidate +16, Religion +20, Stealth +18, Streetwise +16, Thievery +16
Basic Attack: Melee Basic Attack
Basic Attack: Ranged Basic Attack
Wilden Racial Power: Voyage of the Ancients
Wilden Racial Power: Wrath of the Destroyer
Wilden Racial Power: Pursuit of the Hunter
Druid Attack: Combined Attack
Cleric Utility: Healing Word
Druid Utility: Restore Life
Druid Utility: Dire Wolf Knockdown
Shaman Feature: Call Spirit Companion
Shaman Feature: World Speaker’s Command
Shaman Feature: Speak with Spirits
Shaman Feature: Healing Spirit
Feat Utility: Balm of the Cultivator
Druid Attack 1: Dynamic Assault
Druid Utility 2: Bear’s Strength
Multiple Class Utility 6: Leaf Wall
Druid Attack 9: Sudden Overgrowth
Druid Utility 10: Clear the Chaff
Steadfast Sentinel Utility 12: Bounty of Spring
Druid Attack 15: Briar Thicket
Druid Utility 16: Dryad’s Trees
Steadfast Sentinel Utility 16: A Thousand Faces
Druid Attack 19: Diligent Reaping
Steadfast Sentinel Attack 20: Verdant Harmony
Druid Utility 22: Touch of Renewal
Level 1: Spirit Talker
Level 2: Mending Spirit
Level 4: Improved Aspect of Nature
Level 6: Rejuvenating Spirit
Level 8: Skill Focus (Nature)
Level 10: Battlewise
Level 11: Improved Defenses
Level 12: Ancient Lore of the Dawn War
Level 14: Armor Specialization (Hide)
Level 16: Disciple of Vengeance
Level 18: Aspect of the Cultivator
Level 20: Unfailing Courage
Level 21: Weapon Focus (Heavy Blade)
Level 21: Weapon Expertise (Heavy Blade)
Level 21: Long Step
Level 22: Superior Initiative
Vicious Scimitar +5 x1
Periapt of Cascading Health +4 x1
Planestrider Boots x1
Summoned Mekillot Hide Armor +5 x1
Bracers of Escape (paragon tier) x1
Cord of Divine Favor x1
Philosopher’s Crown (paragon tier) x1
Gloves of the Healer (epic tier) x1
Sigil of Companionship (paragon tier)
Imre was once a promising young scion of the tribes.
All those hours roasting in sweat-lodges pursuing visions. All those
miles walked along deer trails, searching for the rare True Muscaria.
All those sacred chants chanted to the ancestors, those hide drums
beaten to mark the changing tides of dawn, those granite
boundary-markers polished to mirror-smoothness and inscribed with the
Wolf’s False Name to lure him from the flocks.
All that, thrown away in a moment of weakness.
Did he not spend three days baked in clay? He did, and from the
broken sherds he cast the fortune of his mother’s sister’s daughter,
every word of which came true.
Did he not climb the furthest elm and wrestle with the Hornet King? He
did, and fought him to the third fall.
Did his spirit form never emerge from the bottom of the two-sided
river? It did, and he answered every question of Grandmother Jay.
Has any of that mattered since the night he sacrificed a horse and
danced the dance of Late Winter Rains in the week before the rye was
to be sown? No.
Did any of the hard-won secrets, the cicatrices he cut in his astral body,
the true names which once burned in his ears and caught in his
throat, did any of those help him, guide him, in that split-second
when he had the neck of the Swan in his hands and thought ‘this could
be mine’ before coming to his senses and releasing the sprit back to
its home in wind and water and the boundary between? Not a bit.
The rains came, and they never left. The hillsides have slid away,
the ponds and lakes have grown to swallow the villages. There is no
solid ground, all is mud. No plant will grow in that dark place, and
animals fear to enter it.
The tribe, of course, had to move, but there was no-place to move to.
All the land was claimed by other tribes or other men or other races.
Some had kin in those other tribes and went there, but most ended up
in squalid ghettoes.
Imre never admitted what happened, and his people never blamed him,
but he knows they know. He could not bear the guilt of being around
them, and left to walk the adventurer’s path. Some so-called lucky
breaks involving a merchant and plausible alibis brought him enough
wealth to purchase marginal land in the Border Baronies
and what was left of his nation who were willing to travel one
final time lives there now. He still sends them money, and he also
sends it to those who decided not to leave the city.
The worst part is the spirits still talk to him. Auntie Cardinal
wakes him every dawn, Little Brother Frog says ‘good night’ every
evening. They come when he calls.
He even sees the Swan some nights.