[Characters] The Host

[mad_gondsman]

DM Post your completed character sheets and other pertinent information in this thread. If you include the 5-digit number at the end of the url of your character sheet between NSHEET tags, it will look like this when typed and like this when submitted:   This enables me to access your sheets without opening a dozen windows!

[Arucard]

Name: Melanchton Race: Human Alignment: Lawful Neutral Class: Cloistered Cleric Region of Origin: Thrane Character Sheet:   Background:   Zealously devoted to the pursuit of knowledge and with a keen mind for research, Melanchton was expected to excel within the priesthood of the Silver Flame. He had considered becoming a theologian or even exorcist during his first days as an acolyte, but found he lacked the necessary bias to excel in either field. His thirst for knowledge was the result of something that proved to be an impediment in his chosen organization - an open mind and an inherent mistrust of his own knowledge and judgment. Being more interested in the "whys" of the faith than the "whats," the young man's studies and questions eventually brought him into conflict with some of the church's positions when the answers he received were less than satisfactory. Being young and idealistic, he was certain the Cardinals must have the answers, or they wouldn't be doing as they were... he concluded they must not be understanding his questions, and so he insisted on asking them again, and in more persistent and difficult to answer ways. While Melanchton trusted the Cardinals, he did not trust their word alone - he required evidence and reason for their assertions. He was rather surprised when he was dismissed from the Church. In response, the priest undertook a soul-searching journey. The questions that drove his arguments with the Cardinal now drove his research: which viewpoint was inherently better than another? Why was it "right" for the church to slay its enemies, but "wrong" for a citizen to do the same? What was the standard for morality itself? Several years within the walls of various monasteries and libraries has not brought him any closer to an answer. Lacking the conviction of other clerics in the justness of his "cause," Melanchton has no cause to speak of save for the accumulation of knowledge and the search for truth - which, in his mind, can only be found through an unbiased consideration of the evidence. In the meantime, Melanchton focuses his efforts on mending the wounds and aiding the efforts of those who, he assumes, have a deeper knowledge of the workings of their faith and the justice of their fight. Ironically, Melanchton's knowledge and expertise is rarely matched by those who he travels with, but the humble priest is rarely cognizant of this fact; at the least, he seems unphased by it if he is. Because of his inability to take a principled stand for what men call "good" or "evil", Melanchton is extremely reluctant to wield a weapon or even divine magic with lethal force unless it is truly a last resort. Possessed of a very logical mindset, Melanchton is quick to discern contradictions and inconsistencies in various dogmas and theories; this is part of why he has yet to find a faith that melds with him, and precisely why he is no longer a priest of the Flame. In his mind, the priest believes that he knows nothing compared to the vastness of knowledge to be acquired, and - perhaps naively - that others will have good answers for what appear to his mind as logical fallacies. More often than not, however, his simple and plain approach wounds the pride of others who are not so dedicated to learning as he himself is. Most recently, his pursuit of knowledge has brought him to the best library his limited means and reputation will allow - Morgrave University.

[GrimDarkOtter]

[LupusRegalis]

 

Name: Dagular za'Khael
Race: Hobgoblin male
Alignment: Neutral
Class: Barbarian (Armored Hulk)

 

 

Character App Appearance: Dagular is a tall for his race, standing only half a foot or so below the average Human. He's also thickly muscled and with his reddish-brown pelt, appears almost as broad as a Dwarf. His yellow-eyed predator's gaze and bestial-seeming features no doubt rudely dismiss any similarity to anything other than the Goblinoid he is. Even so, it's obvious he grooms himself regularly and his bearing is that of a person used to being watched. Well-maintained armor of steel-scale is layered between thick clothing of Dhakaani design. Over his shoulder a simple longsword is bound, with a rectangular wooden shield slung around it. The shields facing is blank, proclaiming him a mercenary with no patron. Hanging from his belt is a full-faced helmet and visor, slung by its strap from a wicked looking dagger. Gripped firmly and resting on his shoulder is a cut down crows-bill hammer that he uses with feral proficiency. Background: Deep in the Seawall Mountains, hidden from the rest of Khorvaire and ignored by the Lhesh Haruuc, the Dhakaani leaders war on each other. Each seeks to gain dominance enough to swear all the remaining Dhakaani tribes under their banner. They smell a change in the world, for the first time in Millennia the Goblin races have gained recognition. Darguun stands strong and proud among the child-nations of Galifar. And they want it for themselves, to bring forth the Dhakaani Empire that was, and spread their control across the face of Khorvaire once more. For the time being it is an internal matter, but it won't be long until one leader gains supremacy. And on that day, the Dhakaani clans will look outwards to Darguun. And after that, to the rest of Khorvaire and the splintered nations upon it. Dagular, as a scion of his family and clan, knows more about those struggles than any other being outside the Seawall mountains. It is in fact the very reason why he has left, not only his ancestral home, but Darguun itself. His kin played for power, attempting to amass enough clout to make their tribe a contender and bid for control of the Dhakaani. They failed, and instead were forced to submit themselves to their enemies, with the elders and mature heirs executed in cold practicality. Except for Dagular, whose escape left a trail of rival warriors lying in his wake. Knowing that he'd be hunted, and without the resources to fight back, Dagular walked away from his heritage. He swept into Darguun proper like an icy-cold wind straight out of the mountains and to the Gathering Stone and House Deneith. There Dagular signed his name and entered service as a Deneith Mercenary, for a time. Long enough to avoid being followed, maybe long enough to earn enough to come back, and try again.

[asura8]

 

Name: Aiden ir'Reinard

Race: Human - Aundarian

Class: Magus

Alignment:Lawful Good

Background: At twenty four years of age, Aiden ir'Reinard was a man who was entirely raised in his formative years within the chaos of the Last War. As a member of a minor noble family within Fairhaven, his family had a certain reputation within the Arcane Knights. Throughout the years, the ir'Reinard family was known for producing exceptional members of the order and, while a recent lull had occurred in Aiden's own father, it only heightened the expectations that were lumped upon his the eldest son of the family, from both internal and external sources. When it came time for the young man to train to become one of the Arcane Knights, he did so gladly; he had heard of the horrors that the Karrni had committed upon Cyre and was a firm believer that Thaliost needed to be reclaimed from Thrane.

The young man was able to become skilled in both martial and magical ability in order to become one of the Arcane Knights, spending countless hours upon spellbooks and within the practice yards. When the time came for him to serve on the battlefield, he did so gladly, fighting in the north against the Karrni and their undead soldiers. The fierce young man kept a certain idealistic flare to him throughout this time; he often gave rations to civilians, both enemy and friendly, and sought to spare an opponent whenever possible. In many ways, it was his own idealism that lead to his downfall amongst the Knights.

As the Last War continued towards the Day of Mourning, Aiden found himself in a struggle with Karrni spellcasters and their undead minions. Many of his fellow men were cut down in the fight and his group seemed almost completely scattered. A powerful spell directed towards the remaining combatants, from his own nation of Aundair, plunged the remaining men and women, friend and foe alike, into forgotten caverns in the countryside. It was at this time he met an elven woman he would become smitten by; their mutual cooperation would lead to their survival from what should have been a deadly situation and they bonded under the circumstances of the moment.

Once able to leave the caverns, the struggle of the Last War, combined with realizing that his enemy was not merely murderous, terrible necromancers served to disillusion Aiden. Not wanting to continue the countless violence that had become his life, he convinced the elven woman to desert with him, fleeing from the battlefield and his obligations in search of a new life. It is years later he finds himself in Sharn, seeking work among mercenaries, long having deserted from his homeland.

Description: Aiden ir'Reinard is typically found wearing clothes that are very Aundarian in fashion. Bright colors and cared for silks rest underneath his typical cloak and armor. His blade often rests in a scabbard that shows the same sort of care at his side. His body is toned from martial training as much as his mind has been sharpened by the teachings of the arcane; he does not show outward muscularity as much as a certain swiftness of form. His brown hair is kept short, with some bangs left to flow messily over blue eyes that have a certain idealistic light still to them, even after the horrors of war. He stands a couple of inches under six feet in height; on the upper end of average for his people.

[Krystianna]

(Still finalizing, sorry for the delay!)

 

Name: Aisula Elensar
Race: Elf - Karrn
Alignment: True Neutral
Class: Wizard

 

Background: Hailing from rekkenmark, Aisula is a studious, contemplative and somewhat cold individual. Though her ancestral roots can be traced back to aerenal, she identifies as a citizen of karrnath and as a karrn, she has a key interest in necromancy. The arcane arts fascinated aisula from a very young age and, fortunately for her, her parents were fairly skilled artisans and made enough money to fund a basic study into the arcane arts. After receiving her first book on prestidigitation, it was difficult to get her nose out of the books and as the years went by, her parents became more and more worried that she might not ever have a life outside of her studies. Though they were persistent in trying to get her outside and enjoy the community, the furthest they ever got was her allowing an interest and unofficial membership in the blood of vol, aisula having been heavily enticed by their focus on self-improvement with an eye towards divinity. Unfortunately, this only focused her attention more on studying the arcane arts in the hopes of achieving immortality and she ended up mostly eschewing all forms of social contact for the next few years.

In a last ditch attempt, her father found her an elven boy her age named oh’rendal who was very nice by all accounts and from a noble family. Her father essentially forced the two of them to date and oh’rendal was smitten by her dedication to her arts and by her rather fair features. He thought her cold, stand-offish nature was a simple front to a sensitive, warm caring heart underneath and he tried fervently to melt her cold exterior to get at the tender, loving person he knew was in there. Had oh’rendal been less persistent with his advances, he might have had a chance, but aisula was young, cold and extremely spiteful of any distractions from her work and never returned his affections and grew to be very frustrated by his attitude. Even more unfortunately for her, during their many discussions, her parents eventually took the phrase ‘i see nothing particularly unsuitable about him.’ to mean ‘i want to marry him.’ and oh'rendal officially became her fiancee. It was almost fortunate there was a war going on.

Unfortunately for aisula, being an ascetic recluse does not get you out of compulsory military service. Although she did try to avoid her service, her family and fiancee (who was also being pressed into service at the time) all pressed upon her the importance of community and how important the war was to the survival of karrnath as a whole. While not dedicated deeply, she knew this was something she could not avoid. The karnnathi military is always pleased to have spell casters in the ranks, especially one that can control her own undead fighter, and she was sent into several battles with aundarian forces.

Though she had a strong and tenacious commander in battle, her co hadn't banked on running into one of the knights arcane during a particularly pitched battle. Though she hadn't been particularly keen on learning the military lingo, she knew full well what happens when you're on the front lines and the officer calls for a "strategic retreat". Knowing they'd be protecting the rest of the troop and that they'd in all likelihood die anyway, her squad fought viciously, so viciously in fact there was a moment where they thought they might actually turn the battle around and push the aundarians back. Unfortunately, that's when a powerful spell came from the aundarian side and all but wiped them, and several aundarians off the map.

She awoke an hour later to find herself at the bottom of a forgotten cavern, the spell having breached the ceiling with its sheer destructive power. Covered up to the neck in a pile of loose debris with the bodies of her squad and audarians alike strewn everywhere, aisula knew she was lucky to be alive and she slowly crawled out of the rubble, covered head to toe in cuts and bruises. That was when she found the man from the knights arcane himself, still alive with a large boulder pinning his leg to the dirt... She pointed a finger at his head and prepared a ray of frost. Though he demanded she finish him off, aisula had one of very few emotional outbursts she will ever have. Realizing she was about to be the type of person that killed in cold blood, her spell fizzled and she quickly found herself heaving with what little strength she had on the boulder, rolling it just far enough to free the man.

With no "get out of a hole" spell in her spellbook, the two of them had to struggle mightily to leave the cavern, especially with the man having his leg twisted painfully and using aisula as a crutch. Having been sacrificed by her commander and not particularly wanting to go back to her home and marry oh’rendal on the off-chance he's alive, she hastily agreed with the aundarian to desert the army and the two ended up traveling together in the years after, with aisula trying to scrape what few magic books you can buy cheaply to continue her studies.

[thewattinator]

Name: Kevan d'Jorasco

Race: Halfling

Alignment: Between Neutral Good and Chaotic Good

Class: Fighter (Roughrider Variant)

 

Appearance: 3 feet exactly, Kevan is sinewy and well tanned. His short, spiky hair is dyed a deep red, which stands in contrast to the blue tattoo on his neck. He has brown eyes and a narrow, tapered jaw, with no sign of stubble or facial hair. His left ear has a small gold hoop piercing on its side, and he wears the signet ring of House Jorasco on his right hand at all times.

Personality: Kevan used to be extremely confident and passionate. He used to believe that he could face any problem in his home on the Talenta plains. As he grew older though, his faith in his power--and his frustration with Holy Uldra--took their tolls. Now, he is moody and cynical; his only true friends are his twin sister Sallah and his clawfoot Breeze. His self-imposed exile weighs heavily on his mind, and he is currently wandering Khorvaire, looking to understand his place in the world. He rarely does anything without something agreed upon beforehand, however, should a wrong immediately present itself, he attempts to deal with it.

Background: Originally born in Karranath to a prominent house Jorasco member Harken d’Jorasco, Kevan was brought to the Talenta Plains along with his twin sister Sallah when he was very young. Harken had been assigned to work in the plains, working in Gatherhold; their mother had died giving birth to them. Sallah and Kevan doted upon one another, often they were all they had as many of the tribesmen were suspicious of any Jorasco children, just like they were suspicious of their parents. Still, Gatherhold was a great place to grow up. Kevan learned to ride dinosaurs and fight with the other children—and unlike the barbarians, Kevan got to travel the world whenever his father had to go to Vedykar. Just as the barbarians of the plans eschewed heavy armor, so did Kevan, but unlike the barbarians he did not possess the inner rage, and so was forced to perfect his technique to match the others. Sallah meanwhile worked directly for the House, learning the skills she would need to rise up in the ranks—because Sallah had manifested a Siberys mark, and Harken had taken her under his wing. Both Sallah and Kevan received private lessons from Harken’s friend in the local chapter of the Sovereign Host as grooming for command. Kevan took to Olladra, partly because of her happy-go-lucky outlook and partly because she was the least favored of Mariela, their teacher. Neither Sallah or Kevan liked her much; for one thing, she had no sense of humor, and for another, she had no emotions or warmth—calling her frosty would be putting it mildly.

After Cyre was obliterated by an arcane cataclysm, House Jorasco mobilized a great many clerics and healers to tend to the refugees and survivors. Gatherhold was flooded with refugees, and Kevan, Sallah and Harken found themselves working around the clock to tend to them all. During this time, Harken contracted an arcane malady that no one in Gatherhold could cure, and so he returned to Vedykar to seek intensive care from the House itself. What Kevan and Sallah didn’t realize was just how much political protection their father had provided—and how much the local head of the house disliked them. He assigned the twins to join one of the smaller tribes as part of a program to “improve relations” with the tribes—a tribe with a weak lath and one that was ripe for raiding. Sure enough, the tribe fell victim to the tribe of Holy Uldra, which captured or killed everyone in the tribe. Sallah was spared because of her dragonmark; Kevan received a tanget through the chest, but his sister kept him alive, threatening to commit suicide if they let him die. As much as she hated House Jorasco, Holy Uldra understood the benefit of having a trained healer under her control—especially one with a Siberys mark. They were kept as prisoners, forced to tend to the wounded, which they did. During their travels, they hatched an escape plan, looking to win Uldra’s trust to loosen their bonds before breaking free. Kevan won a measure of acceptance among Uldra’s warriors, and joined in their raids, fighting other tribes, Valenar elves, and whoever else he was ordered to fight. Unfortunately, one of these raids hit a convoy that happened to be full of House Jorasco members, and they recognized Kevan. Seeing him as a traitor to the House, they began the process of excoriation for him and his sister, long presumed to be dead.

Kevan and Sallah did manage to escape, but on their return to Gatherhold, they found the doors of the Jorasco offices closed to them. The staff there spoke to them only long enough to explain their situation then denied them asylum. Fearing the wrath of Holy Uldra, they fled the Plains on the back of Kevan’s clawfoot Breeze, riding straight to Vedykar and their father. Harken was on his last legs; they had long enough with him to find out that he had blocked final entry of excoriation with the last of his political capital, and time to say goodbye, before he succumbed.

Sallah returned to work in the House, but all her father’s contacts had died or wanted nothing to do with her, and so she was forced to start at the bottom of the House hierarchy. Kevan, sick of politics and House Jorasco, set off out into the world with his dinosaur and his sharrash. Occasionally, he wrote small pieces which he sent to various newspapers; the money he got for those, combined with the food and shelter he could earn at House Jorasco setups was enough to live off of. He has been wandering ever since, and though he won’t admit it, he needs something, anything, to help him find his way out of the woods.