A new and strange power

Image by Reddit user KeroKerosene

[5 min read]

A narrative explanation for my character, Tomas of Tyr, to multi-class into Divine Soul Sorcerer. In the Moonsea Madness campaign, Tomas and the party are touched by Azuth and each granted a bespoke eldritch power. I decided to lean into that as a way to develop my character. For a more mechanical view of that transition, please see my exercise on multi-class planning here.

Tomas bursts into the safehouse through the secure door, his previously gleaming plate armour now covered in ash, body slumped over in exhaustion. He puts down his beloved warhammer, stands upright and catches his breath for a moment. Looking up at your party with hazel eyes flashing and cheeks flushed with excitement, Tomas seems strangely energised, as if some power is lending him strength as he draws you into his serious gaze.

‘Friends, I have been on quite the journey this past night, and I feel compelled to share the impact of the extraordinary events, that we might deepen our understanding and better serve our mutual cause.’ His powerful magnetism demands you and your companions also stand as you all listen intently to his story.

‘I could not sleep, disturbed as I was by the events at the manor and also the loss of the powerful staff of Kronos in service of liberating Delia. I felt compelled to return there, despite the risk, for such a powerful staff was surely a gift from Azuth to aid us in finishing our quest in old Solus. From Justicar’s saddle I approached the smouldering ruin, quiet and calm in the full moonlight having been deserted by the spoiled nobles and mercenary guards like rats fleeing a sinking ship. 

Dismounting and leaving my loyal steed to drink at the water upstream of the smoke, I drew my hammer and moved into the servant’s quarters where we had been only hours earlier. But even with the gift of vision in dim light from my cursed dwarven heritage, the search for the staff was in vain. Tired and disappointed, I sat down on a charred foundation of stone, the acrid smoke filling my nostrils with the smell of brimstone, and stinging my eyes until I closed them, just for a moment.

Readying to leave, I glanced through watering eyes at the once stately, but now demolished majordomo’s quarters. A small reflection off the now sinking moon caught my eye, from what looked to be a sapphire as big as my fist! Even an exiled dwarf could not resist a closer look, so I moved into the office and plucked it from the debris, whereupon closer inspection I noted it was only glass. Before disappointment could extinguish my curiosity, I looked deep within the blue stone and saw an absence of material, formed in the shape of an upright hand, index finger pointed at the dark sky. Even one as blind as Tyr could see this was a sign from Azuth! So I peered into the stone intently as the hand inside started to glow white and an image appeared in my mind’s eye.’

Tomas’ eyes become a deep dark blue, the interior doors all slam shut and his voice deepens as he relates what he saw.

‘Welcome to Asgard Magister’ booms a white-haired man with bloodied bandages over his eyes sitting on a large but unadorned stone throne. ‘Be seated’ he invites as he points to an adjacent long stone bench with the stump of his left arm, ‘I know that which you would discuss, and it is high time.’

An elderly man with a long white beard, hooded and robed in antique fashion, places a sapphire-topped staff lengthwise on the bench beside him as he sits, showing no sign of decrepitude. ‘Grimjaws’ he starts in a monotone voice, ‘something unexpected has happened to one of your chosen, something rare, not seen since the Time of Troubles’.

‘Tomas’ rage against corruption runs deeper than the trenches in the Trackless Sea’ the blind man responds, ‘the disgust at Gorm’s clergy in his early training has left him scarred and filled with vengeance. That believers of the god of vigilance and defense could allow their ranks to be corrupted by insidious deceivers is deeply ironic, in a dark sort of way’. Tyr sighs ruefully. 

Azuth responds flatly ‘I care not for the petty machinations of dwarven lords under their mountains, nor the misguided followers of Gorm. But the incident in the dungeon in Thar has shown one thing - Tomas is willing to embrace the power of the arcane at any length in order to wreak that vengeance in your name. He clearly possesses a sliver of the divine himself, which is why he seeks out those foul corruptions left in the realms. Do we indulge this and allow him to touch both the divine and the arcane? As much as I disdain the raw manifestation of the weave versus the noble pursuit of wizardry, I cannot deny this experiment intrigues me.’

Tyr leans back as if paused in thought, the moment enduring what seems an eternity to his lesser deific guest, who has no choice but to indulge the greater god of Justice. He then leans forward purposefully, ‘Tomas has been a faithful servant, and believes in the church and its tradition, even if his methods are sometimes… unconventional. T’was you who bestowed upon him that eldritch gift, maybe in a moment of foresight. I see no reason he should not wield whatever powers are available to him to write the wrongs the Time of Troubles have wrought on Toril’.

‘Then it is settled’ responds Azuth in a businesslike manner. ‘I shall grant this Tyr-Touched soul access to arcane power, crude that he is, and have it enhance the divine magic you bestow him through prayer. May this union bear fruit in the days to come. Mystra’s blessing to you.’ The robed wizard disappears, leaving The Maimed God sitting with a rare smile belying his satisfaction. ‘Tyr-Touched’ he chuckles, ‘why, it has a nice ring to it’.

Tomas’ voice returns to his normal tenor and his eyes fade back to hazel. You hear multiple creaking sounds as the doors swing back and forth again, hanging slightly ajar. The tall, clean-shaven dwarf who eschews the ways of his kind invites you and your captivated comrades to sit once more, and then slumps in the chair nearest the fire. The story has ended, told without a hint of embellishment or arrogance. ‘Friends’ Tomas finishes. ‘I am filled with a new and strange power, and... I like it’