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Just a quick 1hr doodle of my new D&D 4e halfling bard.
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Cedrik Banterlark – Halfling Entertainer & Negotiator
Born 364 AS, Cedrick was the son of Drobby and Gertrude Banterlark.
Drob, in his youth, was quite the adventurer/cartographer. Having lost his right hand during his adventures he returned to settle down in his hometown of Applegrove, a mid-Eastern halfling village seated neatly between the Althorian twin mountain peaks. He married a lovely entertainer at the Grape Barrel tavern. Gertrude was a singer and shrillplayer, and it was through her melodies that she attracted the attentions of Drobby. As countless generations before her, Gertrude had been passed along her family heirloom: The Banterlark Shrill - A finely crafted and equally mysterious longflute.
It’s original owner had been long forgotten by the family, but it’s songs were loveingly passed down through generations of Banterlarks. Many of the songs utilizing words and phrases alien, but melodic and powerful none the less. Every so often, when the shrill was passed down to the next generation, the player could awaken the melodies; some more than others. Family tradition demanded that the melodies be played beyond Halfling land. It would be selfish to hoard such a beautiful sound. Cedrik was one such player.
Now 23, the Halfling had learned what little he could about the shrill through family lore, memorized every song, as well as producing a few of his own, though what little he came to understand of the shrill never seemed to be enough. For everything his mother taught him about music, his father taught him about negotiations. Elvish was a required language in his education, and Drobby was quite clear in his emphasis on the importance of good communication skills, constantly professing that there wasn’t a situation in the world that couldn’t be settled with words. However, where words fail; steel succeeds - or so Mr. Fetterberry said.
Mr. Fetterberry was a travelling companion of Cedrik’s father back in his adventuring days. His stories and his father’s stories’ always seemed to vary a little, particularly when it came to the “scary” parts. Drobby would fluff things up a bit, avoiding the limb hacking and flesh charring bits, unlike Mr. Fetterberry, who had no reservations about telling the whole bloody story. Naturally, Cedrik liked to hear Mr. Fetterberry’s version more than his father’s.
Mr. Fetterberry was Cedrik’s martial trainer, much to Drob’s distain. Drob would often argue that Cedrik could easily get by in the real world with his shrill and etiquette, being quite aware of the power that Cedrik had learned to wield with both. All the same, Mr. Fetterberry would end such conversations with a terrible and fantastic tale of the end of Cedrick, and all because he couldn’t wield a sword, to which Drob often left the discussion in a huff.
The day of Cedrik’s departure was met with tears and pride. Gertrude knew she had no right to keep her son from following age-old tradition.: Tradition that Drobby was very keen on respecting, and knowing that Cedrik was now well prepared for. Being a Halfling village, most everone knew Cedrik was setting out and were present to see him off; as was custom. Saying goodbye took Cedrik the better part of the day. It was well into midday when Cedrick finally found himself at the end of Mainpath looking out over a very big world, and an arduous trek down the steep mountain path to the nearest bit of civilization, where he might truly begin the search for the source of his abilities. Where they came from. Who made them, and why they had been passed to him.
And perhaps, have a bit of an adventure of his own along the way.
- - -
Cedrik Banterlark – Halfling Entertainer & Negotiator
Born 364 AS, Cedrick was the son of Drobby and Gertrude Banterlark.
Drob, in his youth, was quite the adventurer/cartographer. Having lost his right hand during his adventures he returned to settle down in his hometown of Applegrove, a mid-Eastern halfling village seated neatly between the Althorian twin mountain peaks. He married a lovely entertainer at the Grape Barrel tavern. Gertrude was a singer and shrillplayer, and it was through her melodies that she attracted the attentions of Drobby. As countless generations before her, Gertrude had been passed along her family heirloom: The Banterlark Shrill - A finely crafted and equally mysterious longflute.
It’s original owner had been long forgotten by the family, but it’s songs were loveingly passed down through generations of Banterlarks. Many of the songs utilizing words and phrases alien, but melodic and powerful none the less. Every so often, when the shrill was passed down to the next generation, the player could awaken the melodies; some more than others. Family tradition demanded that the melodies be played beyond Halfling land. It would be selfish to hoard such a beautiful sound. Cedrik was one such player.
Now 23, the Halfling had learned what little he could about the shrill through family lore, memorized every song, as well as producing a few of his own, though what little he came to understand of the shrill never seemed to be enough. For everything his mother taught him about music, his father taught him about negotiations. Elvish was a required language in his education, and Drobby was quite clear in his emphasis on the importance of good communication skills, constantly professing that there wasn’t a situation in the world that couldn’t be settled with words. However, where words fail; steel succeeds - or so Mr. Fetterberry said.
Mr. Fetterberry was a travelling companion of Cedrik’s father back in his adventuring days. His stories and his father’s stories’ always seemed to vary a little, particularly when it came to the “scary” parts. Drobby would fluff things up a bit, avoiding the limb hacking and flesh charring bits, unlike Mr. Fetterberry, who had no reservations about telling the whole bloody story. Naturally, Cedrik liked to hear Mr. Fetterberry’s version more than his father’s.
Mr. Fetterberry was Cedrik’s martial trainer, much to Drob’s distain. Drob would often argue that Cedrik could easily get by in the real world with his shrill and etiquette, being quite aware of the power that Cedrik had learned to wield with both. All the same, Mr. Fetterberry would end such conversations with a terrible and fantastic tale of the end of Cedrick, and all because he couldn’t wield a sword, to which Drob often left the discussion in a huff.
The day of Cedrik’s departure was met with tears and pride. Gertrude knew she had no right to keep her son from following age-old tradition.: Tradition that Drobby was very keen on respecting, and knowing that Cedrik was now well prepared for. Being a Halfling village, most everone knew Cedrik was setting out and were present to see him off; as was custom. Saying goodbye took Cedrik the better part of the day. It was well into midday when Cedrick finally found himself at the end of Mainpath looking out over a very big world, and an arduous trek down the steep mountain path to the nearest bit of civilization, where he might truly begin the search for the source of his abilities. Where they came from. Who made them, and why they had been passed to him.
And perhaps, have a bit of an adventure of his own along the way.
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 612 x 792px
File Size 137.8 kB
No doubt eh? I told the DM I wanted to be a bard thinking "Alright! Now I can sit back and be the comic relief and a non-combatant." Silly me, 4e's gone and made my character a "leader" class. Being the GM most of the time, when I do play a character, I like to be a back row character.
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