1st Edition AD&D Part II- My character, Relendor Silkenweb

Relendor and his familiar, the black cat, Soot

 

My Character

In the previous installment, I shared the origin of what I still call THE CAMPAIGN. That post covered the broad scope of the game—the 40,000-foot view, so to speak. Before I dive into the rest of the adventuring party, I want to focus on one of the only surviving artifacts from that era: my character sheet.

You’ll find a scan of it below. But before we get to that, a bit of context.

From what I can piece together, this isn’t the original sheet. The first page—the one with the main stats—was typed by Jeff, not me. The second page, which lists equipment and magic items, is definitely mine. I typed it up on my old Atari 800XL, typos and all. I recognize the format and the misspellings immediately.

The version I have is from later in the campaign. Some items had been gained, others lost. But it still brings back a flood of memories, and it’s the most tangible link I have to that incredible game.

 

First Glance at the Character Sheet

Looking at the first page of the character sheet, a few things jump out.

First—why does my character have such low Charisma? Trying to tell me something, Jeff? Ha!
More seriously, you’ll notice the Strength stat and a note about exceptional strength. That’s because I had a magical studded bracer of ogre power—functionally the same as gauntlets—but it only applied to the arm I was wearing it on. Why? Who knows. It never really caused problems in play, especially since my character fought with an unusual weapon for a dark elf: a spetum.

You’ll also see a note about ambidexterity, and under “Abilities,” the line: “You have all of the male drow abilities and penalties.” That said, I don’t recall ever fighting in the classic two-weapon drow style—not once. Why? Because I specialized in the spetum, and by the end of the campaign, I believe I was double-specialized.

Yeah, that was a house rule. But like I mentioned in Part I, we were walking our own path. I think I went through a number of magical spetums during the game, mostly because several of us were failing item saving throws at one point or another. Despite all that magic and specialization, I wasn’t the party’s top fighter—that title probably went to the half-ogre.

Fun aside: I’d just gotten a new set of smoke-colored translucent dice in the mail before we started this campaign. That d20 rolled 19s constantly. I must have used up all my luck in 1987, because now it barely rolls double digits.

The Equipment Sheet (and the Cat I didn't Ask for)

The equipment sheet was typed by me—misspellings, formatting quirks, and all. It is what it is.

Because Identify is so under-powered in 1st Edition—and due to the nature of Jeff’s campaign—we often had no idea what magic items actually did. We’d pick something up, mess around with it, and eventually figure it out... or not

Looking over the list now, it’s nothing earth-shattering. As I mentioned back in Part I, we’d just come off a short high-level campaign, so this time around we were intentionally going lower-powered. The magical bracer of ogre power was the first real item my character acquired. Oddly enough, it survived every item saving throw all the way to the end of the campaign.

One item I distinctly remember but didn’t list was the cloak of the bat. In hindsight, a cloak of the arachnid might’ve made more sense thematically, but the bat cloak served me well—until it was obliterated in a failed fireball saving throw. I still remember the collective sigh of relief from the rest of the party; apparently I’d been a little too enthusiastic about using it.

Then there’s the book of summoning “homucumuls.” Yes, I butchered the spelling. And no, I never actually used it. I think I kept it tucked away in my pouch of holding, waiting for the day my familiar bit the dust. Summoning a homunculus would’ve been cool, and it fit the tone of the character... it just never happened.

Broom? Book of Black Poetry? No idea on those...

The Familiar That Shouldn't Have Been

Here’s where things get weird. I’m not a cat person. I’ve always preferred dogs—still do. So imagine my frustration when I cast Find Familiar and, through random rolls, ended up with... a cat. Of course.

But then something unexpected happened.

Jeff’s family cat, Cogswell, started curling up on my lap every Saturday night during our sessions. He wasn’t a clingy cat otherwise, and I have no idea why he chose me—but there he was, week after week, purring away while I played. That was the only cat I ever genuinely liked.

Strangely, he never seemed interested in anyone else’s lap—or even in leaving mine. Every Saturday, it was like clockwork.

(Quick side note: despite not liking cats, I don’t like seeing them harmed either. My wife calls me “Diego the Animal Rescuer” because injured or stray animals just... find me. More than once we’ve had them show up at our house out of the blue.)

Anyway, somehow my familiar survived the entire campaign. Maybe it was dumb luck. Or maybe the real-life cat curled up on my lap had something to do with it. I’ll never know.

I also suspect Cogswell loved our gaming rituals. We’d usually chip in for pizza, and Mike (the older guy in our group) would drive out and get it. The empty pizza box often got left behind in the basement, and by the next Saturday, we’d find the cat munching on leftover crust—or whatever had hardened to the consistency of a brick.

Relendor Silkenweb, Miniatures and the Shield of Arion

One detail that still stands out from that campaign was Jeff’s use of his extensive Citadel Miniatures collection. He painted them himself—and did a great job by the standards of the time. Dave may have painted his too, though I wasn’t into miniature painting yet back then.

Looking back, the miniatures had a surprising influence on how we envisioned our characters. Mine was one of the 3rd Edition Foot Cavalry—a model named Toruviel Longstride. That mini, painted with dark blue skin and jet-black features to match the drow aesthetic, became the visual foundation for my character. Even the shield he carried would later factor into his personal goals and backstory.

And so there he was—one of my all-time favorite fighter/magic-users: Relendor Silkenweb.

A Name From the Vault

 I remember leafing through D3: Vault of the Drow in search of a name, and on page 14 I found “Captain Relonor.” Somehow that evolved into “Relendor,” and it stuck.

Relendor had one other distinction: he was the only PC in the campaign who never died. Every other party member was slain at least once, but somehow, he dodged that fate. I do recall one close call—he was dropped to -9 HP in a dungeon and stabilized immediately, purely by luck, thanks to a nearby party member. Probably because of Cogswell...

The Shield of Arion

Relendor’s full backstory is lost to time, but I remember the broad strokes. He had been sent by the Church of Arion (no Lolth in this setting) to recover the Shield of Arion, which had been stolen by a villain named Dragotha. Same name as the iconic undead dragon from D&D lore, but in this campaign, Dragotha was not a dracolich—just a powerful antagonist who ended up tying into all our characters’ backstories. He served as the thread that bound the party together.

I only ever read my own backstory, and sadly I no longer have it. Hopefully Jeff still has those character write-ups tucked away in his gaming archives somewhere.

That’s all for now. Next time, I’ll chronicle the rest of the adventuring party and the players behind them.

Previously, I said there were seven of us—but there may have been eight. I think Jim might have been playing with us at the time, and I seem to recall him running a dwarf fighter. I’ll have to see if I can jog the memory.

Until next time.