Player's Handbook 3 Excerpts: Ardent
In today's Player's Handbook 3
preview, we turn to the ardents, of whom it's said: "The fate of the world rests on the fire of your passions." We also show off one of the ardents' new paragon paths: the stygian adept.
Those who let their base emotions rule them invite madness and destruction. Prolonged feelings of fear, greed, lust, or hatred can weaken the mind’s defenses against manipulation. Wielding psionic power, you excite such emotions in your enemies, creating gaps in their defenses and frustrating their attacks, all while filling your allies with encouraging thoughts and guarding them against despair and other negative emotions.
Ardents rarely learn their art through formal training. In many ways, they are incidental leaders, having stumbled onto psionic power at some point earlier in their lives. How you discovered your psionic talent can shape how you wield this power now. You might have awakened to your talent in the heat of battle, experiencing a mental breakthrough that allowed you to augment your attacks by rending your enemies’ minds. Or your friends might reflect your power when your mood bleeds into theirs, altering their emotional states to match your own. Regardless of the revelation, you learned to harness this power to support your fighting prowess and to guide your allies to victory.
"There are no fears but those of your own making."
There are shadows in the mind. Unnerving memories, old fears, and crushing disappointments all lie ready to be exploited and manipulated. Those who know these fears can turn them into weapons, amplified until they unravel the consciousness. You are familiar with these fears, and you wield them like razors.
As a stygian adept, you sense the fear and terror in your enemies, harnessing these emotions and using them to attack your foes’ minds. With your powers you can create phantom terrors that only your opponent can perceive, distracting the enemy from your allies as they move into position. A foe firmly in your grasp finds itself lost in a maze of half-realized imaginings, each more terrible than the last.