Warner Griffith

A red-robed philosopher of René Girard


Armour Class: 9
|Strength| Intelligence| Wisdom| Dexterity| Constitution| Charisma|
15| 16| 16 +2 | 17, +2Reac, -1AC | 11| 10|
Life Points: As all humans, I am not invulnerable.

Name: Warner Griffith
Class: Philosopher of René Girard
Next Level
Level: 2


  • Spear
  • Spellcraft
  • Healing
  • Herbalism
  • Direction Sense

Bag(*)| Large Belt Pouch(-)| Bone Scroll Case(^)
*Crossbow 1-4
*Coal x 8
*Meditation Book and supplies
^A Scroll.

Gold: 7
Electrum: 7
Silver: 19
Copper: 6

Age: Many years were sacrificed to my teaching.
Gender: M
Height: 79"
Weight: 204lbs
Alignment: I obey the tenets of my teachings with stringency.
Interests: I am interested in all the secrets of the world, the chronicling of my existence and The Masters of my Order.
Personality: I would describe myself as calculating, aware or intelligent and knowledge hungry.
Languages: Most.
Race: Human


I was continuing my studies in the small village in the desert of illusion when they appeared out of the very sky, a party of adventurers as from tales of old. As if this was not interesting enough for me to investigate, they flew in on a dragon! I am now a member of the handful who have seen a dragon in the flesh; they did say I required more knowledge of the world to advance in the school, the fools didn’t know how knowledgable I could become without their stifling overwatch. I approached the group as all but the most stalwart of the village cowered before the mighty dragon “The dragon has requested hearts from the villagers to elect a new soulbound companion.” The paladin (for that was all he could be, dressed in chainmail with a tabard of Pelor hanging loosely over) said with some hesitation, I could see a couple of the evidently more bloodthirsty newcomers discussing literally taking hearts, the fools. In the years I sacrificed to Girard’s teachings I accrued some understanding of the ways of the dragons, no intelligent dragon would transport so many to such a remote location simply to ask for hearts, maybe soar down and tear them from the unworthy’s chests but never simply ask if it was something so obvious. Being the only one among the non-natives of Khait who could fluently speak the cant of the desert people I translated this across to them, but rather than give a literal translation I used some ‘artistic license’ shall we say. Thus I translated
the dragon’s request to the gathering as “Give the mighty dragon your love or face his fearsome wrath!” Soon the nomads were practically burying the creature in gifts and dizzying it with the speed of their bowing. After some time the dragon summoned me forth; “Newcomer, what is your name?” I told it freely “Warner Griffith” “And what is it that you seek that steels your heart against the aspects of a dragon? As well as solving my riddle more quickly than these others?” Responding to questions such as this has become a forte of mine after so long among the desert folk. “I am a philosopher of René Girard, I seek knowledge in any way I can, oh mighty dragon.” After an exchange in which the creature regaled me with knowledge of the new people and his previous companion (A young warrior by the name of Valten, a simpleton by all accounts but with an extremely developed understanding of swine. No doubt from his own constant companion Ruby the Pig. I caught myself wondering if this Ruby could be the supposedly trapped omniscient being of legend but pushed this away quickly, I have no fact on the matter and no way of finding it.) I was told the dragon’s true name and given leave to call him to our aid in “a time of great need”, I was warned however that this power should not be used lightly – perhaps he did not understand with whom he was speaking, I would never sacrifice such power easily. Upon receiving this great knowledge I was bound to sacrifice something in return so I provided the dragon with some of my meager water supply to quench itself before journeying onward. Thanking me, he flew away at the fantastic speed only a truly powerful dragon could hope to match.

I returned to the newcomers and learned that I was correct in my deduction of the paladin’s profession, and introduced to the other members. I quickly assessed that more knowledge could be found with these people than another decade in tow of the nomadic tribe I had allied myself with, it was fortunately at this time that I was requested as a new addition because of my prowess in securing the dragon’s assitance in future and defusing the townsfolk’s impotent anger at the group bringing a dragon to bear upon them. I gathered what few belongings I still maintained and we adjourned to the chief’s tent to negotiate. “Why should I give you supplies? We have little enough as it is and you have nothing we need.” The chief was clearly still sore over the threat to his people, admirable but inconsequential, so I offered to secure rations and such for my new travelling companions for the high price of my milk producing goat which had been feeding me on my travels so far, almost greedily the chief accepted and we, the new party, were prepared for my quest for knowledge. Shortly along the route I chose, to take them back to the mountain shrine they described, we were attacked by a small pack of jackals, at this point I felt it prudent to judge the combat prowess of my new companions and thus using my experience in these matters barked out commands to form a ring and protect each flank before fading from sight to better observe. They performed adequately and chased off the offending animals, I can sleep safely knowing I am protected here.

We begin a new journey.

I will have to watch the magical woman, Anya, as she seems to be disarmingly catastrophic in heated situations. I note this after the events of last night in which she cast a powerful offensive spell at a passing group of camels before being roughly beaten to the ground by the alpha, the rest of the party acted too slowly for my liking and, wanting to instill a sense of trust to better aid my more secretive elements, I threw myself into the fray leaping and hollering to frighten the simple beast away. One of the fighters, bizarrely known as Squid Slayer, and I managed to create enough of a ruccus that the camel bolted, leaving Anya bloodied and humiliated but alive. The night was quiet after that.

This ramshackle crowd is not as secure I first perceived, tonight Anya was attacked. Not physically or even magically but by sabotage; Anya woke the camp in the dead of night as her tent pole supposedly ‘snapped’ and pierced her throat, rendering her unable to speak. Upon closer inspection I found that this was no magical mishap, the pole had been snapped by a strong force from above the fractured point. Being unable to further assist in this matter I lay down in my tent and prepared to sleep but it appeared that this Everius Vulpi suspected me of foul play and watched me until I feigned sleep well enough to lull him to sleep also. That night I crept unseen into his tent and waited, just watching, until eventually I found this so called ‘City Watch Guard’ would not soon become aware of my presence and left, but as a sign of my presence I left a song bird which I had nursed and studied during my travels. Hopefully he gets the message, one does not interfere with the school of Girard.

Evidently Everius understood my bird and has elected to keep it as a reminder. Let him, I have learned all I can from it, perhaps he could learn how to sing sweetly instead of coarsly barking at his companions.

After a few more uneventful days of travel we finally arrive at this hidden shrine of theirs, it is magnificent. Guarded by a mighty sphinx this place is not only a sacred temple to Ah’Nor but houses one of the most in depth libraries I have had the good fortune to encounter since leaving for my external studies. After the sphinx spent some time miraculously healing the greivous wounds of Anya in exchange for her patronage to Ah’Nor I spent the night conversing with the Sphinx, we discussed our respective philosophies as well as the history of not only the area but the interesting history of the shrine itself.
Already my inclusion in this adventuring party has proven prosperous beyond imagining. After learning a small portion of this shrine’s history from Faeron also, Vuranel and I discussed which door to take into the dangerous catacombs, soon we shall delve into the dark, soon we shall learn from the sacrifices of those who preceded us…

Warner Griffith

Dragolin Fables: Tales of the 4th age samngliv samngliv