Favored Soul: an Introduction

This campaign has been…interesting…from the very beginning. Well, from the middle, really, I wasn’t there for the beginning…

My first mistake was joining the campaign halfway in. it couldn’t be helped. I had to be in a different state for two years because I had this crazy idea that I needed a graduate degree (well, I do get an extra point on the geek test for a particularly geeky career, so I guess those six years of school were worth it :D). so I finally graduate, pack all my stuff, and move. And, almost immediately upon arriving, I am presented with……

A shrubbery! And after I have brought them the shrubbery, I must chop down the greatest tree in the forest with…..

A herring!--wait, wait, wrong scenario.

So I get to town, and I am presented with a blank character sheet. I am told that the group needs a healer, which I graciously agree to provide. I mean, I can trip over thin air and slice off my thumb just by looking at a dull knife. The ability to heal myself can only be a good thing. Then he tells me I’m supposed to heal the whole group. What?!? I have like three spells. That’s barely going to cover falling out of bed, poking myself in the eye with my toothbrush, and slicing my knee open with a razor. An hour after waking up, I’m out of spells.

Somehow, I am convinced that this is a good idea. So we make this healer. A favored soul. I am told that favored souls are to clerics what sorcerers are to wizards. As in, we don’t have to prepare our spells every day, but we only have five to choose from, can only cast four per day, and use them all up in the first three rounds of a fight, after which we sit down twiddling our thumbs and heckling the other players.

Since I’m joining this campaign right smack dab in the middle, it is necessary to come up with a “back story.” Also known as “the biggest lie you can come up with.” We decide that I am an elf who, for some inexplicable reason which we never bother to explain, or even figure out for ourselves, is being called to worship a human god. This makes no sense. Everybody knows that elves all think that humans are a bunch of icky, nasty, immature, violent, short-lived bastards who run about poking each other with sharpened metal sticks. And I’m being called to worship the omnipotent being who encourages it? It really doesn’t make much sense. It does, however, lend credibility to my presence in a human town. It was either that, or appearing from thin air just behind the tank yelling “boo!”.

So, inexplicable presence explained, I find myself in this human town awaiting my introduction to an elite party of adventurers. One of whom is a giant were-snake. Who I am expected to heal.

Sorry, dude. Used my last spell healing a nasty hangnail.