A young, short Gnome Illusionist with great hair.


== Created Using Wizards of the Coast D&D Character Builder ==
Stumbleduck, level 7
Gnome, Wizard (Arcanist)
Build: Illusionist Wizard
Arcane Implement Mastery Option: Orb of Deception
Theme: Wizard’s Apprentice

STR 10, CON 12, DEX 10, INT 20, WIS 8, CHA 18

STR 10, CON 11, DEX 10, INT 17, WIS 8, CHA 16

AC: 19 Fort: 15 Ref: 19 Will: 20
HP: 46 Surges: 7 Surge Value: 11

Arcana +15, Diplomacy +12, History +13, Insight +7

Acrobatics +3, Athletics +3, Bluff +9, Dungeoneering +2, Endurance +4, Heal +2, Intimidate +7, Nature +2, Perception +4, Religion +8, Stealth +5, Streetwise +7, Thievery +3

Basic Attack: Melee Basic Attack
Basic Attack: Ranged Basic Attack
Wizard’s Apprentice Attack: Color Orb
Gnome Racial Power: Fade Away
Wizard Utility: Ghost Sound
Orb of Deception Power: Orb of Deception
Wizard Utility: Light
Wizard Utility: Mage Hand
Wizard Utility: Prestidigitation
Feat Utility: Spellseer Familiar
Wizard Attack 1: Horrid Whispers
Wizard Attack 1: Phantom Bolt
Wizard Attack 1: Nightmare Eruption
Wizard Attack 1: Grasping Shadows
Wizard Attack 1: Phantom Chasm
Wizard Utility 2: Familiar Harrier
Wizard’s Apprentice Utility 2: Disappear
Wizard Attack 3: Maze of Mirrors
Wizard Attack 5: Visions of Avarice
Wizard Attack 5: Phantasmal Assailant
Wizard Utility 6: Emerald Eye
Wizard Attack 7: Phantom Foes

Level 1: Ritual Caster
Level 1: Arcane Familiar
Level 2: Gnome Phantasmist
Level 4: Superior Implement Training (Crystal orb)
Level 6: Spellseer Familiar

Dagger x2
Alchemical Reagents (Arcana)
Make Whole
Tenser’s Floating Disk
Cloak of Resistance +1 x1
Potion of Healing (heroic tier)
Restful Bedroll (heroic tier)
Stoneskin Cloth Armor (Basic Clothing) +1 x1
Resplendent Boots (heroic tier) x1
Resplendent Circlet (heroic tier) x1
Familiar Mount
Hallucinatory Item
Crystal orb of Mental Dominion +2 x1
== End ==


The youngest of fifteen children, Ellyjobel Caramip “Stumbleduck” Gladdenstone never quite fit in. Quite short, even for a gnome, she was picked on for being the runt of the litter. This was perfectly natural and normal in a gnomish family; she took from it the lesson that you should never take yourself too seriously, and never give others the power to hurt you with the cruel things they say. Despite her upbringing, she always felt out of place. There was never enough room, even for someone as tiny as she, and no one would ever take her seriously.

Her pride and joy has always been her hair. Gnomish hair tends to grow slowly, frequently in patches and somewhat coarse. Her hair, so pale as to almost be white, but with red highlights that only appear in certain light, it falls from her scalp to her heels as straight as a dropped stone. Over the years, from other women, from books, and from experimenting herself, she has learned hundreds of tricky ways to braid it. Her typical method for adventuring is to gather the wealth of her hair into a top-knot; this huge ponytail is held in place by coils of tiny braids coming from her temples and behind her ears. The central portion of her hair is braided into dozens of little braids which fall down to shoulder height, then back up to the topknot. The remaining length is simply allowed to fall underneath this all, and reaches to between her shoulder-blades (she usually tucks it inside her coat). For formal occasions she tends to go much fancier, and in a pinch she just ties it up a few times at the nape of her neck and hides it in her coat.

Her hometown is the Gnome Village of Turtledeep. A mile underground, a giant cavern exists, inexpicably in the exact shape of a turtle three miles long, tilted slightly forward so the head is a bit lower than the tail. (One prevalent theory is that a wizard needed an enormous statue of a turtle, and so summoned this chunk of rock out of the earth itself). At the young (for a gnome) age of 20, she ran away to a relatively nearby petty human kingdom, where she apprenticed herself to the court mage and learned the art of Illusion. She spent thirty years with him, learning mostly small things. How to create grand spectral spectacles for feast-days, minor cosmetics to beautify the queen and hide the princess’s snaggle-tooth. And for decades, she was content. She learned to dance at the grand balls, and within seven years, people stopped commenting on the only non-human at the events, and instead spoke of her grace and energy. She had the queen’s favor, as she was a vain liege and treasured the flawless skin that was only hers through illusion. And, of course, there was Glitterstitch.

Being so tiny, yet possessing adult freedom and intellect, there were always plenty of closed-off back rooms of the castle for her to explore alone. Usually full of nothing more interesting than the population of her imagination, one day she came to a room at the base of a light-well just as the sun reached the proper height to fill it with glory. Her arcane senses tingled the moment she stepped inside, so she was not especially surprised when motes of colored light arose from cobwebs and dustbunnies to play in the sun’s brilliance. She stepped to the middle of the room, laughing, dancing and twirling, and the light flew to play with this new friend. She can’t remember how long she cavorted with the sparks, but all too soon the sun fled its narrow window and the room was just another room. However, the motes of light came to settle gently against Stumbleduck’s fingertips. After a moment, they coalesced in front of her and crystallized into two orbs. The body of a large dragonfly grew in a gentle wave of magic backwards from the eyes, and Stumbleduck met Glitterstitch for the first time. Since then, he’s been her familiar and the two have been inseperable. When he rests, he takes the form of the motes of light, solidified into tiny crystal shards, scattered within her hair.

She still remembers the day she first met Kismet. His mother came to the castle that night, destitute and despondent, and was taken in by the librarian. As a wizard, she was among the shelves often, and in those first years would occasionally float glowing shapes above his crib to keep him amused and quiet while she studied some arcane lore. As he grew older, she found him an adorably precocious child, an insufferably contrary teen, and finally a boon companion as he gained his majority. He aided her research, and she was the first to mention that with a touch of arcane instruction, his natural musical talents could turn into the true powers of a Bard. He sang for her, and taught her how she could combine her magical abilities with the movements of her favorite dances to aid his rituals. He wove for her stories of grand, glorious battles and wondrous adventures, and she bolstered his tales with the illustrative illusions. For three decades, she’d been content at this castle, but he awoke in her that first itch which drove her from the safety of home to the great unknown, and when he was banished from the castle, it wasn’t even a decision. She had to follow her best friend. Her mentor was very sad to see her go, but gave her the vest she’d always loved. It reached past her knees and required a belt to stay on, but it had dozens of pockets and most importantly, she could smell his pipe-smoke in it. And so, she left, companion at her side, eyes forward to behold the future (and so no one would see the tears).


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