[D&D-5e] Icewind Dale

[Seravok]

Click Me
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Music)

D&D 5e, Regions within Icewind Dale

Winter, Survival, Hack & Slash, Sandbox adventure in the far North region of Fearun of the Forgotten Realms. Icewind Dale is an epic adventure North of the Spine of the World and East of the Sea of Moving Ice. This game is completely inspired by the original PC game from its USA: June 29, 2000official release, except played with D&D 5e instead of its AD&D 2eearlier predecessor, and Play by PostPbP right here on RPGX.

The environments are harsh, cold, and unforgiving. The monsters will be challenging, and the dungeons will have Hint: there should be a Rogue in the party. many traps with a few puzzles to solve along the way. Expect the game to be serious in tone mixed with lighthearted humor, with heavy combat oriented dungeon crawls and Role Playing opportunities along the way.

From the harsh and frozen region north of the Spine of the World, an ancient evil has begun to stir. A small group of adventurers wandered north to solve this mystery behind the evil that haunts Icewind Dale. They will face dangerous environments, evil monsters, and frostbite in their quest to expel the threat that corrupts the land. The adventurers start their epic quest inside the "Winter’s Cradle Tavern" that is located inside a small fishing village called Easthaven. As one of the "Ten Towns" of Icewind Dale, Easthaven sits on the shores of Lac Dinneshere, North of Kuldahar. Many recent rumors have drawn your attention to Easthaven, such as strange unpredictable weather patterns during this time of year, and Orc tribes becoming active when they're typically dormant and docile in such conditions. Sightings of Frost Giants have been spotted closer to the “Ten Towns” with unusual behavior, as though they’re working together for unknown reasons. Even the Spirits of the dead have been stirred in their tombs from their eternal slumber, and haunt the Vale with whispers and howls. Now, the call of the North awaits for heroes to bring hope and solve the mystery behind the evil that haunts the icy pass ahead.

I've been part of the RPGX community for just under a year now, so I'm still considered "new" in terms of the standard longevity to these forums. I've been running another Campaign that I DM for about 8 months now, and have exceptional players to post with. Only one PC had to drop out from real life circumstances, and then replaced by a player from the pool of applicants of the original advertising. The previous player admitted it was hard to leave, because she loved the campaign, her character, and the group involved. Since then, the new player has expressed gratitude and appreciation in joining, and admits it being one of their favorite Campaigns in PbP to date. So even if you don't make the original cut, and you've put in a solid application, there's still a chance you could join this campaign anyway. I'm from the UTC -07:00 HoursMountain Time Zone (Canada), which may help you understand some references like my "afternoon", "morning", or "evening" if I mention them in the OOC threads. I would like players to post at least 2 to 4 times per week to help run this campaign smoothly and "in terms of PbP speedquickly", primarily on weekdays, and 1 or none is fairslower post rates on the including holidaysweekends to be specific. This means you could expect the same post rate from the DM as well. I'd like to think I'm pretty lenient on what I allow players to do and play. The goal really is for everyone to have fun, have an emotional connection to the story and their characters, be the hero, and to try new things. However, I will be strict on posting formats, and want players to invest some time to follow a template that makes for a clean game with easy to track components as we play. It makes my job much easier and keeps the threads clean and tidy. I'm big on using from both the players and the DM alikevisuals in posts, and when it comes to combat I'll be using a combination of campaign cartography and maps and images taken from the original game for clear understanding of what's happening on the battlefield and in your environment. I like to add theme music to the game from time to time, and hope it adds to the experience and feel for the players as well.

I will be accepting six 12 players from those who have Before the deadline and completed applications onlysuccessfully applied. Applications close December 6th, 2017. There has been enough interest that I’ll be running at least 2 groups of 5 to 6 players per group. Applications are officially closed, successful applications will be announced shortly. Allowed Materials: All official D&D 5e related books. If it's sold here, I'll allow it. Unearthed Arcana Series (please double check with me first, just in case) Restrictions: No 3rd party/Homebrew please. No character sheets are required, please, not until you’ve been accepted, thank you. Characters will be starting at Level 1, using 16, 16, 14, 13, 10, 8'Non'-Standard Array for this campaign. Please include the following in your application: Required Info Portrait 125x193 (Image Example) <Name Here> Name: Race: Class: Alignment: Physical Description: Background: Personality Trait: Ideal: Bond: Flaw: Quirks: A Secret:   About Secrets To write a secret to the DM, please follow this guide for Specifically, if you'd prefer other applicants that are Moderators not knowing your character secrets.confidentiality reasons: [SPOILERBUTTON][Secret=Seravok]<Secret to DM here>[/Secret][/SPOILERBUTTON] Have you heard of Icewind Dale before?: Have you ever played Icewind Dale the CPU game?: Background Narrative: This is where your character will stick in my mind. Provide a brief history, or an encounter, or experience of your choice, for your character concept and make it come to life in a few paragraphs. You may get a special advantage if it's very good and your character helps fill in Leader Healer Thief Caster Tank Utility/Support composition gaps to the potential roster For a potentially “successful” campaign Note: still challenging anyway! *. If you have any questions, feel free to post them in this thread. Click the "very good" link to see how I score applications. Please don’t roll any dice in this thread, it will not be tolerated.

Player Character Name Race Class Application Status Review Provided Accepted Swagbag "Nicky" Human NatureCleric Nov. 23rd✔ ✔   AwkwardPaladin Gwyndolin Thorn Human Fighter Nov. 23rd✔ ✔   Dargos Ayla Human Conclave Hunter (UA Revised)Ranger Nov. 21st✔ ✔ ✔ aRePiiGee Dovar Ironbeard Dwarf Barbarian Nov. 21st✔ ✔   creed Amhrán Geimhridh Withdrawn ✘   Tyeal Lore Militan Tiefling +Paladin/+SorcererWarlock Nov. 22nd✔ ✔ Honorable mentiono TNK Ormund Blackash Human TempestCleric Nov. 28th✔ ✔ Honorable mentiono Pendragon Bjarke Mueller Human Soul Knife (UA)Mystic Incomplete ✘   mrtowne Posted interest WIP WIP Incomplete ✘   Jeffkevlar Rokeo Half-Orc Order of Long Death (SCAG)Monk Nov. 22nd✔ ✔ Honorable mentiono Landsknecht Grimfara Human Rogue Nov. 23rd✔ ✔ Honorable mentiono Onlie2005 ”Maria” Human EvokerWizard Nov. 22nd✔ ✔   Quarterpound Eckhart Knowlan Withdrawn ✘   SadPanda284 Andrean Nalidar UA reference providedChangeling Stone (UA)Sorcerer Nov. 23rd✔ ✔ Honorable mentiono Arthilian01 Balgus Brasshammer Withdrawn ✔   Matt Greyshadow Half-Elf Ranger Nov. 22nd✔ ✔   Bhelogan Carric Liadon High Elf Mastermind (Xanathar's)Rogue Nov. 22nd✔ ✔ ✔ Chaos Havik Nicodemus Loordes Human NecromancerWizard Nov. 28th✔ ✔   Kaneda Shepard Ayuruk Futan Warforged Paladin Nov. 25th✔ ✔   LeoByron Raven Knight Withdrawn ✘   Dooliwong Sabrina Watson Aasimar Phoenix OriginSorcerer Nov. 30th✔ ✔ ✔ MaximumUnicorn "Gala" Drow Paladin Nov. 29th✔ ✔ ✔ nanovich Faeona Dawnstar Half-Elf College of Swords (Xanathar's)Bard Dec. 3rd✔ ✔ ✔ Fake Roosevelt Tarak Stormbreaker Goliath Zealot Path (Xanathar’s)Barbarian Nov. 25th✔ ✔ ✔ jbear "Ciri" Half-Elf Hexblade (Xanathar's)Warlock Nov. 24th✔ ✔ ✔ MundayKnight Posted Interest WIP WIP Incomplete ✘   Whiskeyjack Mikael Moonsbite Human Druid Nov. 26th✔ ✔ ✔ Avner Gulgrim Battlehammer ShieldDwarf Forge Domain (Xanathar's)Cleric Nov. 26th✔ ✔ ✔ Shinzo Barog Ironskin Goliath Eldritch Knight (PHB)Fighter Nov. 26th✔ ✔ ✔ Jasvinder Taura Oringa ForestGnome College of ValorBard Nov. 27th✔ ✔ Honorable mentiono RadarD RuDar DaVren Human Beast Conclave (UA: Revised)Ranger Nov. 27th✔ ✔ Honorable mentiono tomplum "Bear" Human Fighter Nov. 30th✔ ✔ ✔ Arthilian01 Yeveera Kol Half-Orc Barbarian Dec. 5th✔ ✔ ✔

[Swagbag]

Required Info - Name: Nykki Mattisdotter (Nicky) - Race: Human - Class: Nature Cleric - Alignment: NG - Physical Description: Nykki is a real mountain girl. Covered in hides and leathers of the animals she tracked and killed herself, she takes pride in her self sufficiency. She's healthy, fit and shorter than most. She has green eyes and red hair that she keeps in a single braid. Her gaze is piercing, and her demeanour usually serious until she cracks her smile. When she smiles her serious nature melts away and she can reveal a fun loving carefree young woman. - Background: Outlander - Personality Trait: I place no stock in wealthy or well-mannered folk. Money and manners won’t save you from a hungry owlbear. - Ideal: Life is like the seasons, in constant change, and we must change with it. - Bond: I will bring terrible wrath down on the evildoers who destroyed my homestead. - Flaw: While I can be fierce like a mountain lion, there are times I can be lazy like a bear in hibernation. Moonshine and good country music sooth my soul. - Quirks: Nykki, being raised by a rough mountain man, has adopted a rough type of humor and a hard style of drinking and joking around. It's something the druid circle she studied under frowned upon but despite their best efforts they were unable to fully set her straight. - A Secret: Nostalgia: - Have you heard of Icewind Dale before?: Yes, from the computer game. - Have you ever played Icewind Dale the CPU game?: A friend had it, so I've seen it played off and on but no idea how it goes. A life worth living: - Background Narrative: There was a small village up North, on the outskirts of the Icewind Dale. It was more of a collections of farmsteads really. A few families lived there, carving out their existence in the unforgiving landscape. They made their living hunting and fishing mostly, dependant of the small frozen lake they lived around. People there would travel to Icewind Dale to trade their pelts for salt and their fish for vegetables. There and back, even though it wasn't that far away, the trip could be hazardous and was not to be taken lightly. Still, they did it every year. Sent a few people from each farmstead on their way with the trade goods and waited for them to come back. It was a risk they had to take, because their survival depended on it. Only a handful of times did the group not come back, and every time that happened the people had one of the toughest winters they could handle. They were hardened people and they knew the risks.. That was the way of the North. There was a village, because that village doesn't exist anymore. The news came too late for neighbours to send aid. By the time it was discovered, there was nothing left of the farmsteads. They had been burnt to the ground, whatever there was worth stealing was gone and more than a few bodies were hidden under the snow. Even the hounds had a hard time finding them since they had been frozen solid and buried under a thick layer of pristine snow. Eventually they found most bodies, and concluded that whoever hit this village had taken most able bodied person with them. The dead were the too old, and the too young. The modus operandi smelled of a roving war-band, hit and run tactics.. taking hostages for their nefarious plots or as slaves to sell. Humans most likely, but it could be anybody really. They looked for clues, and followed up on hunches, but eventually they laid it to rest. It was recorded for the tragedy it was and served a grim reminder for everyone who heard the tale. This was the way of the North. As for the group of people that up and disappeared, their real fates were gruesome and sadly, very long lived. No need to go into more detail there, lest you enjoy horrid nightmares. The whole ordeal was a testament to the hard life, the dangers and the evil that only the North can conjure up. There was one good thing that came from it, depending on your point of view. Nykki was a young girl the day her life took a turn. Barely six or seven winters old. Nykki had been picking winter-berries, and had wandered a bit too far away. She met a mountain-man, a respected hunter and trapper who was on his way to the same village she was from. He was travelling from farmstead to farmstead, trading his wares. It was him that noticed there was something wrong. And it was him that shielded her from witnessing it all. It was him that took her far away from it all, and it was him that when he found out what happened decided to take care of the girl. At first, Nykki wasn't a huge fan of the man that kidnapped her and took her from her family, only to live in a cabin far up on the mountain. 'It took more patience than there was snow in the North to raise her' was something Björn would say often, talking about their early years. Nykki was unruly and defiant. Still, Björn never shied away from the responsibility and stuck to his guns. Eventually they bonded, and even later they were inseparable. Not a bad feat for a bear of a man, fifty years old, who had been living his whole adult life by himself. Björn was so set in his ways that his stubbornness was legendary all over the mountain range. They complemented each other. Björn was strong, stubborn and set in his ways. Nykki was lithe, agile and fast, could adapt to any situation quickly and could think on her feet. When she was about ten, Björn told her what had happened to her family. Nykki had accepted her fate, and learned to move on. She didn't reflect often what happened but the occasional nightmare made sure she'd never forget. Björn told her he suspected Malarites had been behind the killings that fateful day. Followers of the cruel god of the hunt. Nykki was more interested than he had expected, and if he'd known just how far Nykki would take his hunch he probably would never have shared his musings with her. She grilled him about everything he knew about Malar, and when he swore he had no more new information on the subject she would hound him for more anyway. Eventually Björn couldn't take it anymore and dragged Nykki, who was now twelve years old, halfway through the North. For nearly a year they travelled but eventually they came to the glacier of the winter druids. It was a coven of female druids. They worshipped the Aurora Borealis, an aspect of the nature god Sylvanus. Björn left Nykki in their care for five years. It was an emotional goodbye, but beautiful and necessary. Björn was used to making the right choice, even if it hurt. Nykki grew up more than a bit that day. Five years and a bit later, Nykki went to find Björn in his cabin and was shocked by what she found. Björn, who was now almost seventy years old had been finally hit by old age, and the North was not kind on the old and slow. It seemed that the prospect of meeting Nykki one more time was what had Björn hanging on as long as he did. Nykki took care of the old mountain-man, and stood by his side in his final hours. He died in his sleep, with a grin on his rough and fully bearded face. Nykki packed her bag, and left that morning. She's a hunter and trapper now, like Björn was, but she's also a daughter of Sylvanus. Dedicated to hunting followers of Malar wherever she catches a scent of them. But to be honest, she's starting to doubt the stories. The coven and Björn had tales of Malarites, gruesome and wild, but she has yet to see a sign of them for real. In stead, in daily life, she has stepped in Björn's sizeable shoes. She travels from farmstead to farmstead to spread the news of the North, to sell her hides and fish, and to check in on the people, lending a hand where necessary. Nykki discovered that the lonely lifestyle of Björn that she thought he lived, maybe wasn't all that lonely after all. It was nice to be welcomed into the homes of hardworking people, share stories and food, and then move on. It was an important role to fill up here in the North. It keeps her going, and it keeps her feeling like she matters. The people, who respected Björn, accept Nykki in this role, and seem happy to see her when she’s in their neck of the woods. Soundtrack: Howl; BRMC

[AwkwardPaladin]

Gwyndolin Thorn
Human (Illuskan) Fighter, Lawful Neutral

Physical Description: A tall, muscular woman with flowing blond hair, bronze skin, and grey-green eyes. Half-concealed behind the bangs of her hair is an unsightly brand, given to her as a child in a Luskan prison, to mark that she is the offspring of convicted criminals, born in the prison itself.

Background: Soldier

Personality Trait: Gwendolyn’s indomitable will, sometimes crossing over into obstinance, means she will never, ever back down. She will hold the line until death.

Ideal: Responsibility. She is duty-bound to obey lawful authority.

Bond: Lucas Stormm, her old commanding officer in the Waterdeep militia. Only his intervention kept Gwyndolyn from facing the death penalty when she was convicted, and receiving exile as a punishment instead. She considers this a debt she must repay.

Flaw: Gwyndolyn is law-abiding to a fault, and has difficulty going against the established authorities even when they are clearly in the wrong.

Quirks: Cannot sit still, becomes bored with “contemplation,” and drums her fingers impatiently when she’s ready to cease talking and start acting. Gets irritated with anyone who tries to shorten her name into something diminutive or affectionate, such as “Gwyn.”



Background Narrative:

The folk of the city of Waterdeep like to think themselves beyond petty prejudices such as judging a person based on their origin. Gwyndolin Thorn knows this to be a lie.

Born in Luskan, in the deepest depths of the city’s prison to a mother serving a life sentence for her crimes in the employ of the local assassins’ guild, Gwyndolin fled the inevitable life of crime that would have been her lot, and made her way to Waterdeep in hope of a brighter future. She joined the militia and worked her way up the ranks, proving her capabilities quickly. Yet her past always marked her, not just psychologically but physically: a brand upon her forehead, received in her Luskan prison home when she was only a child, pronounces her a child of criminals and an outcast from civilized humanity.

Gwyndolin’s rapid rise in the militia and the attention paid to her by superiors made her an enemy: Karthon Vallis, a nobleman and militia officer who resented serving alongside “Luskan scum.” No sooner had Gwyndolin been promoted to officer’s rank herself, than she was framed for treason, accused of involvement in a plot to overthrow the city’s leaders, and exiled from Waterdeep. Vallis was instrumental in this turn of affairs, providing false testimony in court and convincing that Gwyndolin’s unfavorable heritage presupposed her to criminal activities.

Drifting into mercenary work, but unable to find any reputable jobs because of her criminal record, Gwendolyn drifted gradually toward the Frozen North in search of adventure, or at least occupation.

Have you heard of Icewind Dale before?: Yes

Have you ever played Icewind Dale the CPU game?: A bit. I've played as far as the start of Chapter Four, but I really don't remember much past Chapter Two.

[Dargos]

Application Name: Ayla of the Great Tribe of the Elk Race: Human (Maybe variant, not sure yet) Class: Revised Ranger (UA Link) (going Hunter's Conclave at 3rd) Alignment: Chaotic Good Physical Description: Ayla is a tall barbarian woman with long brown hair and blue eyes. She dresses in simple brown rugged studded leather armor clearly of Same tribe as Wulfgar from the Drizzt novelsReghedmen barbarian style. Over her armor Ayla wears a thick hooded fur lined cloak designed to keep out the cold. Across her back is a quiver of arrows and a long bow also with raven’s feathers on the ends. At her side is a pair of short swords and a dagger. Background: Uthgardt Tribe Member (SCAG) *Modified to replace the Feature with Reghedmen Heritage vs Uthgardt. Personality Trait: 1) I place no stock in wealthy or well-mannered folk. Money and manners won’t save you from a hungry polar bear. 2) I am rude to people who I feel are weaker than me. We live in a harsh world and there is no room for those who can not take care of themselves. Ideal: The natural world is more important than all the constructs of civilization. Bond: My family, clan, or tribe is the most important thing in my life, even when they are far from me. Flaw: I am slow to trust members of other races, tribes, and societies. Quirks: WIP A Secret: Have you heard of Icewind Dale before?: Of course! Who hasn't? I read all the original novels so I am familiar with the area. I have also read some of the old 1e, 2e sets like the Savage Frontier, The North and others from TSR. Have you ever played Icewind Dale the CPU game?: I played through Baulder's Gate twice but I only played Icewind Dale a little bit when it first came out in 2000. I have no recognition of the game or it's plot-line. Background Narrative:   Winter was over, Ayla was traveling westward on horseback from her tribes winter home scouting the area seeing what has changed since the snow melted. Her travels have taken her a ten day away and she was getting ready to begin the circle back. There have been reports from the other tribes that the Orcs from the Spine of the World have decided to venture forth again and begin raiding. Part of her job was to see if that was true and locate some signs of those foul creatures. Cresting a hill she comes upon a river swollen with water from the melted ice. Attempting to cross this river was a man. But not like any man from her tribe. This one appeared to be a weak southerner, probably lost on the tundra. He was dressed in simple grey robe. A quick glace from Ayla and all she could see was a dagger around his rather plump waist and a long staff strapped to his pony. He was trying to lead the pony across the river with no luck; the beast was not having any of it and was refusing to enter the water. Looking at the river Ayla could see why. The water was just too high and there stood a good chance that the pony and man would get swept away. He needed to move farther downstream to where it was shallower. As she was observing this man took notice of her sitting upon her horse about 50 meters away. He stopped fighting with the pony and just stopped and stared at her for a few moments before waving in a rather innocent way. Ayla was not sure what to make of it. She slowly made her way to the shore of the river where this strange man was. As she got closer he began to speak to her in the common tongue. “Well met, I am Alasar. As you can see I am trying to get across this river and get to the village of Bryn Shander. It seems Pedals here does not want to cooperate with me. Can you help me out?” Ayla dismounted her horse and walked closer to the strange man. As she walks up to the pony whispering some words in its ear calming it down she replies in accented common, “You are not going to get him to cross here, the river is too deep and he knows it. You should too, if you had any sense.” Suddenly a trio of black shafted arrows came flying from the wood line some 40 meters away striking the ground between their feet. Following the arrows there was thunderous war cry and 4 orcs came barreling towards them with their crude swords and spears raised. “Orcs!!!” Ayla yelled as she readied her bow. “I only have one shot before they get too close” As if by instinct she readies an arrow lets it loose, striking the lead orc in its unarmored throat killing it instantly. Only a split second later a pair of magical bolts fly past her imbedding into the second orc causing it to fall dead alongside the first one. “Magic-user!” Ayla growls as she drops her bow and draws her pair of short swords ready to engage the final two orcs. The first orc comes at her with a crude spear attempting to pierce her gut. Ayla quickly parries the awkward jab and brings her other sword around wounding the creature. She can see out of the corner of her eye the second of the remaining orcs ignore her and go after the robed man that was with her. Quickly before the Orc could even take a swing of his sword he is engulfed in flames erupting from the fingertips of the robed man in front of it. Drawing her attention back at it Ayla was quick to dispatch her orc after a few parries and jabs. After the battle was over Ayla observed the man who called himself Alasar not sure what to make of him. Her distrust of magic-users was strong. They were not to be trusted. Alasar knew who this woman was, she was a Reghedmen Barbarian and they were very distrustful of mages. Even though they were just in a battle together she could easily turn on him and strike him down just for practicing magic. He chose his worlds wisely. “uhh….hello…my name is Alasar, yes….I am a…a wizard….don’t….just don’t do anything” Ayla watched the robed man, not sure how she should take his words. “You need to go, go west and you will come to a bend, there you may cross the river, stay on that path and it will take you to you to the Ten-Towns.” Ayla looked down at the orc bodies looking for any markings to what tribe they belonged too. All she could find was a leather totem with a crude lizard on it, painted red. This marking confused her for she had not seen or heard of a group with this colored lizard as a totem. Her thoughts were interrupted by the wizard. “That’s….the stone lizard clan. They…they are not from around here. Their territory is far to the south.” Ayla looked at him with skepticism. “Are you sure? How do you know this?” Returning her look Alasar responded. “I know of them, I read about their markings in….in a book…..” Ayla scrunched her nose at a mention of a book. She knew how to read and write, rare among her people but she still saw little use in it. “Go, go to Ten-Towns, warn them that the Orcs are on the move. I will follow their trail; I need to find their camp. I need to know more.” Ayla retrieved her arrows and one of the leather totems before mounting her horse. She got ready to spur it into motion when she looks at the wizard, she barely utters two words. “Thank you” before she rides off further east in search of the orc’s camp. Alasar watches the barbarian woman ride off into the distance. When she crosses over a hill and disappears from view he grabs the pony’s reins. “Come on Pedals, lets cross the river and make camp somewhere.” RP Music: Never really considered RP music before,but when thinking up what would really describe this character and this movie popped into my mind. So enjoy the following music video of one of the most epic movies ever made.

[aRePiiGee]

Definitely interested I'll start the app right away.

[Seravok]

Loving the amount of interest generated in less than an hour of posting! As soon as players update their character concepts in their respective posts, I'll be updating the "Call to the North" Table of Applications as quickly as possible.

Also, if anyone has any questions, feel free to post them in this thread or PM me directly, thanks.

[Tyeal]

Sure, I'd be willing to stop around in the frozen wastes of Icewind Dale for awhile. Application incoming:

Theme Music

Name: Lore Militan
Race: Tiefling
Class: Warlock [Seeker] (With plans to experiment with a wacky Warlock/Paladin/Sorc build)
Alignment: CG
Physical Description: Lore stands as an atypical Tiefling. Red skin, visible horns and... That's it, actually. No smell of brimstone or sulfur, no cloven feet, not even a tail whipping behind him. He wears typical traveler's clothes of browns and greens, a heavy cloak against the chill of Icewind Dale, and walks with a heavily gnarled, black staff. His build is lean and lightly muscled, like a red-furred cat. His eyes are an odd shade of violet, with his hair a medium-length brown.
Background:

 

Lore's first memory was of him appearing in a small bedroom, smelling strongly of ink, paper, leather, and something he couldn't identify. He noticed the figure sitting up in his bed, grinning to himself and letting his body go slack as he falls backwards. "My life's work.. is now a reality..." And let out a loud, final, exhale, passing before his eyes. The Tiefling could feel something entering under his skin, but wouldn't be aware of what it was until he would leave his 'home'.

Over the next year, he absorbed everything he could find inside his Creator's home. Reading books upon books and exploring the immediate area outside of the small home tucked away in a place he'd learn was called The Shadow Marsh. His creator, Lorcras Militain, was a studious and well-read Half-Orc. Having kept volumes of various kinds of books about history, geography, monsters, cook books, magic, etc. There was also this one book that he couldn't open, no matter what he attempted to do. It was immune to damage, he couldn't pick the lock, and he didn't have the aptitude to dispel whatever magic might be holding it sealed. The book was simply titled 'Shaping A New World: Biography of Lorcras Militan'.

When Lore felt he was ready, he stuffed whatever he thought he'd need into his Creator's old Haversack, said goodbye to the grave he had made for him, and left with his first Astral Construct, Slim. Disguises and shaped as an Orc as he made his way across the swamp. Figuring having such a large, hulking creature at his side, folks would largely leave him be. And for the first few towns and cities, he was right. He barely got a sideways glance when he sat at an inn table, or did shopping for supplies.

The very first person to approach him was a Gnome who identified himself as Arnedian Uronar, a Wizard. Lore himself was rather excited to meet an actual Wizard, and the two started swapping notes over a few mugs of ale. It wasn't until the Tiefling, who couldn't hold his alcohol, let slip that he wasn't actually a Tiefling. And openly confessed that he wasn't sure WHAT he was. But he existed, and wanted to continue doing so, even if he's a construct made by someone else.

After that, the inn erupted into a fight. The Gnome summoning monsters to fight Lore's own construct while they flung spells and powers at one another. All the while claiming that 'he shouldn't exist' and was 'upsetting the natural balance of the world and magic'. He managed to escape after altering his form to give him enhanced speed, with his Orc 'bodyguard' not far behind. He patched him up and started heading North, having been hearing rumors and tales of giants, spirits, ghosts, and unnatural weather forming to batter the entirety of the Icewind Dale. He decided to investigate these occurrences, planning and hoping to find some powerful arcane source for all these very much unusual phenomenon and uncover some answers of his own in the process.

Personality Trait: Cautious and highly observant
Ideal: "Magic is a fantastic force, one that I WILL harness!"
Bond: "I am here to fulfill a purpose. And I will see it through."
Flaw: "Life and time are finite and I must preserve both of mine."
Quirks: He keeps his horns trimmed and filed down, mixing the shavings into drink and food. Or chewing on entire cuts of his horns.
A Secret:

 

Have you heard of Icewind Dale before?: Yes

Have you ever played Icewind Dale the PC game?: Briefly. A few hours at best.

Background Narrative: Lore seated himself inside the Winter's Candle Tavern in a small village called Easthaven. It had been a cold, long journey to this place but the few people he spoke to before heading out told him it would be the best place to visit first to get the lay of the land and supply for the harsh landscape. He had to admit as he entered the structure and knocked the snow from his boots and cloak, the tavern was indeed very warm. And the Boar Bisque he ate was piping hot in temperature and spice, as well as having delicious melty boar meat among a few sparse vegetables. Helping warm him from his horns to his toes. There were a handful of people in here, their attitude turning the warmer they got from the tone of their voice and what they discussed. He had acquired a small table pushed off to the side away from the fireplace as he had correctly guessed that was prime placement and his appearance was already unsettling to most. He reached into his backpack and produced a thick envelope, drawing from it a well-worn letter and reading it for what had to have been the 26th time.

 

Lore gingerly folded the letter up and slid it back into the envelope, placing it back inside his pack. He kept his hood up as he ate and drank, taking some extra time to produce a thick tome with a chain running under the spine and a heavy lock punched into the cover. He performed a few incantations to try and get a reaction from the book, knowing lockpicks, knives, and other such tools seemed to just break and dissolve inside the lock itself. A streak of arcane energy here, tracing a few runic symbols he knew, attempting to speak in the few languages he knew everything he had attempted in Common. However, an hour passed and he felt no closer to uncovering what made this book open. "Curses and damnation." He muttered to himself. He dejectedly stuffed the book back into his pack, finished his soup, and retired to his room for the evening. Feeling a few curious eyes on him as he ascended, no doubt seeing the pastel red skin of his hands as he went.

[aRePiiGee]

Name: Dovar Ironbeard

Race: Dwarf
Class: Barbarian
Alignment: CG
Physical Description: Dovar is short even for a dwarf, and exceptionally stocky. His long unkempt hair and beard form a dark brown mane covering his head and face. His dark fierce eyes show his fighting spirit that burns within.
Background: Outlander
Personality Trait: I’m driven by a wanderlust that led me away from home.
Ideal: Life is like the seasons, in constant change, and we must change with it.
Bond: I am the last of my tribe, and it is up to me to ensure their names enter legend.
Flaw: There’s no room for caution in a life lived to the fullest.
Quirks: (I don't know which book these are in so I just made one up) A lifetime of regular blows to the head has left my memory a little worse for the wear.
A Secret:

Have you heard of Icewind Dale before?: I have I've read the Icewind Dale trilogy several times.

Have you ever played Icewind Dale the CPU game?: I've heard of it but I've not had the opportunity to play it yet.

Background Narrative:

 

Dovar grew up living in the mountains with his family and clan. He enjoyed a fairly easy childhood and grew to feel close with nature and the wild beasts that inhabited the area around his home. He would often sneak away from his chores and wrestle with bears and wolves and run though the mountains half naked enjoying the wind through his hair and growing beard. His carefree days didn't last forever though, on a day that started like any other, he slipped away from his chores like usual and found himself wondering through a part of the mountain he hadn't spent much time in. After losing himself for hours he realized that it was getting dark so he started to head home. As he approached his home he heard the sounds of battle and screams. Running for his village he saw flames consuming many of the buildings. He raced home and as he came upon it he saw that it too was ablaze. Without hesitation Dovar ran through what used to be his front door and began calling for his mother and father. He heard no answer so he ran back outside just as his home started to collapse. Fearing the worst Dovar ran to where he had heard the sounds of combat and screaming. He saw several of the village militia fighting against an orc raiding party, one of which happened to be his father. Dovar ran towards his father and called to him, his father turned and saw Dovar and smiled glad his son was alive. As Dovar neared however, the unthinkable happened. He watched as an orc brought his crude axe down into his fathers chest. Dovar let out a furious rage fueled scream and charged the orc knocking him down. Dovar didn't hesitate and he began to brutalize the orc laying into him with hit after hit, until the orc's face had caved in and remained a bloody mess. As Dovar came to his senses he ran to his fathers side, "They killed your mother," his father gasped with his dying breath. Dovar shouted to the sky again and swore an oath to himself and his parents that he would not allow their deaths to be meaningless. He would live and fight and continue on for them. After taking the time to mourn for a moment, Dovar picked up his fathers axe and proceeded to fight alongside the remaining militiamen clearing the village of the orcs. The following day Dovar packed what little he could salvage from the burned out husk of his home and left his village. There was nothing left for him there. He would spend the rest of his life making his own way in the wilds, traveling the lands and making sure that everyone would remember the name Dovar Irondbeard.

[TNK]

Basic Information Ormund Blackash Name: Ormund Blackash Race: Human (Variant) - Illuskan Class: Cleric (Tempest) Alignment: Chaotic Good Physical Description: Tall and strongly built, Ormund presents an imposing figure. His pitch black hair contrasts with his pale white skin, and piercing blue eyes stare forth. A sparse beard betrays Ormund's young age. Background: Sailor Personality Trait: I'm superstitious to a fault. This world only exists through the gods, and they talk to us through omens that at there for all to observe, but few have the eyes to see. Ideal: Respect. The thing that keeps a ship, or any crew, together is mutual respect between all. Bond: I'll always remember my first ship, The Delfin. I'm out of Luskan now but I'm still bound to Ship Kurth. Flaw: Once I decide to do something, nothing can stop me even if it will bring me to ruin. Quirks: I'm fastidious about keeping clean whenever I can. Life onboard a ship was filthy, there's no reason that this should extend to life on land. Theme Music: Presto, from The Four Seasons by Vivaldi A Secret:

Background Knowledge Have you heard of Icewind Dale before?: Absolutely! Have you ever played Icewind Dale the CPU game?: I bought all the Infinity Engine games when they came out and loved them - my memories of them all are faded now though, beyond immediate suspicion as to your username

Background Narrative A light flurry of snow began to fall, and Ormund breathed deeply. He felt the cold air draw into his lungs, and absentmindedly licked his cracked lips. The deepening chill did not bother him, it was below his notice after the last year’s experiences. He was still warm from the tavern in Bryn Shander. Glancing to his left, he saw steam rising from the mule’s nostrils, then returned his eyes to scanning the forest to the south of the trail for signs of trouble. Ormund would not have imagined being a caravan guard in Icewind Dale twelve months ago. A proud Luskar, he idolised the power and stature of Ship Kurth, and scraped together the coin needed to buy membership of the ranks of this most illustrious of the City of Sail’s brotherhoods. The youngest of eight siblings, this was his chance to shine above his brothers and sisters. Life at sea on board his assigned vessel, the Delfin, proved to be different from what Ormund expected. Ship Kurth may have a reputation for power, but reputation does not swab the decks, nor lead to fewer weevils in ships biscuits. But despite the privations that his naivety had led him to miss, Ormund took to his new position like a fish to water. The Delfin ranged along the coast from Luskan, occasionally harrying ships whose captains dared to try avoid paying tribute, but more often taking cargo of weapons and armour from the dwarves of Ironmaster back to Luskan. It was on the return from one of these journeys north to Ironmaster that fate came to call on The Delfin. A ship, clearly heavily laden with goods, was spotted in the distance, and the order was given to prepare for boarding. Ormund went below decks and donned armour, shield, and warhammer, the better to open concealed caches of goods. The ships were nearing each other, and the captain made an invocation towards Valkur for luck. But something was not right. Before Ormund and the rest of the crew’s eyes, the ship they were pursuing passed into a fog bank, and disappeared. Flashes of light in the clouds and rumbles of thunder began as soon as the other ship had faded from view. The last thing Ormund remembered was an almighty flash as lightning struck all three masts of The Delfin. He woke, with a gagging cough to clear the fire of salt water from his lungs, washed up on the shores of the sea. "This should not be," he thought to himself. Bringing up a mixture of vomit and seawater, he slowly regained his composure and looked around. Bodies of his crewmates littered the shoreline, with flotsam strewn around. How had he survived? There should be no way for a man in chain mail to avoid sinking. And yet, here he was. Several hours, it took, for Ormund to satisfy himself as to there being no other survivors. He gathered what provisions he could, and set off to find civilisation. Having clambered to the top of the cliffs surrounding the beach where he had been washed ashore, and with daylight fading to dusk he saw the lights of a town in the distance, a town that could only be Fireshear. With daylight fading, Ormund realised he would never make it before total darkness set in. He found some cover amongst the tuffets of ground, and slept through the night. Ormund’s sleep was troubled. He had visions of lightning coalescing into sheets of colour, and felt the agony of water in his lungs again. All the while, he felt a great presence amongst it all. A snuffling noise jarred him awake to find a wolf staring into his eyes by the pale light of dawn. With a scream, Ormund threw his hands forward, and then collapsed back as a column of burning light fell from the sky onto the lupine beast. Equally shocked, the wolf fled. Suddenly, the reality of what had happened came together in Ormund’s superstitious mind. He clearly had the favour of a god, and a powerful one at that. With daylight quickly approaching, he gathered his belongings and set off for Fireshear. Sadly, Luskar are not welcome in Fireshear, and Ormund was refused entry. With the certainty that he was touched by a deity other than Valkur, he realised that return to his Ship in Luskan was not… advisable. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, he knelt on the ground and prayed for guidance. "You!" came a cracked voice, startling Ormund back to awareness. "I need a guard for my caravan." If this wasn’t a sign, nothing was. The caravan was a lacklustre affair, led by an elderly fellow called Trath. Pay would be poor, but it was better than nothing. With the confidence of youth, Ormund knew that he could see off any challenges. There was little fame or fortune to be had in watching the trade of silver from Fireshear for Icewind Dale’s scrimshaw carvings, but it would give Ormund time to find his calling.

[AwkwardPaladin]

Just edited my interest post to include my application. Just out of curiosity, do we send you our character's Secret in a private message, or post it in our application behind a spoiler tag or something?

[Pendragon]

Couple class questions. Would you allow an Artificer Gunsmith? Would you allow a Mystic Soul Knife? These are both from UA, so I thought I would ask before getting underway on a concept. I am interested in both equally, so if you allow one and not the other, no big deal.

[Seravok]

Originally Posted by AwkwardPaladin

Just edited my interest post to include my application. Just out of curiosity, do we send you our character's Secret in a private message, or post it in our application behind a spoiler tag or something?

To post a secret to me specifically, use the following tags:

[SPOILERBUTTON][secret=Seravok]Type your secret text here.[/secret][/SPOILERBUTTON]

---

Originally Posted by Pendragon

Couple class questions. Would you allow an Artificer Gunsmith? Would you allow a Mystic Soul Knife? These are both from UA, so I thought I would ask before getting underway on a concept. I am interested in both equally, so if you allow one and not the other, no big deal.

I've reviewed both and will allow both! I'll admit that the Artificier Gunsmith might be a stretch though. Think of that kind of technology in a simple fishing village such as If you're unfamiliar with these places, please ask me about them.Easthaven or Kuldahar for that matter? Plus, the unforgiving cold environments might make it extremely hard to gain "supplies" for that sort of craft. Between the two choices, I'd recommend the Mystic over the Artificier.

[Dargos]

post updated with my application

[mrtowne]

Posting interest, will update with an app shortly

[Jeffkevlar]

“Rokeo” Name: Rokeo Race: Half Orc Gender: Male Age: 28 Class: Monk(Order of the Long Death) Alignment: Chaotic Good   just because he studies and worships death doesn’t mean that he is evil. He and his order believes that death is the final result of all things, including gods, and as such it should be studied and celebrated. He doesn’t go around murdering people (no need. Everyone will die eventually), but considers helping someone along to the next world a favor he is doing them. He looks forward to his own eventual death, but he is not in a hurry. It will come. And when it does it will be glorious. Traits, ideals, bonds, flaws: I face problems head on. Greater good: our lot is to lay down our lives in the defense of other’s right to thier own fate and proper path to thier own death. Those who fight beside me are worth dying for. So is everyone else but mostly those beside me. I don’t really understand how most people’s Beliefs do not match my own. What do you mean you aren’t looking forward to dying? Background: Hermit Secret: Backstory: Rokeo was not wanted as a child. He was a painful memeory for his mother’s family of an orc raid and the terrible things that happened to his mother. He was abandoned on the streets but was found by a kind monk who took him in. He joined the Order of the Long Death. Many are disgusted or bothered by the death imagery, the skull motifs, and the stench of decay that decorated their temple, but Rokeo felt no qualms and became a devout follower of the order’s teachings. He spent time with the sick and dying, helping painlessly them to the next world if they asked. He would bring home dead and dying animals for him and his brothers to examine. Now a young man he has been sent out into the world to seek his destiny. In his travels he has heard rumors about growing evil to the north and has set out to examine these. He hopes the journey will lead him towards adventure (in order to make his life all the more rich, thus giving substance to his death), help others that thier lives might also be so improved and face the challenges he feels he must. He joined a caravan of merchants desperate enough to travel to the dangerous lands and eventually found himself in Easthaven, not sure of where to go next. He is patiently waiting for some sign.   Rokeo is big. He stands a head hifher than his human, and elvish brethren. His shoulders are wide and his hands are large. Despite his bulk he is quite nimble and is often singled out my the battle masters for demonstrations during training. His hair is black, long and unkempt. Usually it’s tied up at the top of his head in loose bun. Often he wears a thick beard, but when he remembers he shaves it. His clothing is usually dirty and ragged, a rough conical straw hat on his head. He rarely has any wealth. Money and clothing and other worldly possessions mean little to him. What’s the point in accumulating things when you are just passing time until you pass away. He does accumulate knowledge and experiences, as he was taught to, in order to make his life’s ending have more meaning. Heard of Icewind dale? Nope. Sounds interesting. Played the game?Nope again. This game sounds fun, though.