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Old 03-18-2019, 01:17 PM
Seekr34's Avatar
Seekr34 Seekr34 is offline
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Name: Arion Elessedil
Race: Elf
Class: Ranger
Order: The Gray Falcons
Personality: He carries himself with confidence, although he may look to be a bit standoffish, usually quiet and not saying much, which spending many times alone out in the wilderness will do that to people. However, once he is included with other folks, he is outgoing and gets along with others just fine. A man of his word, he always stand by his promises. Someone that can be counted on when needed. Can be a good companion if you are not fond of the chatting type.
Appearance: Standing at 6' tall, long chestnut hair and amber eyes. His outfit, leaves, bark, leather, he seems to be part for the forest. A box at his back, sword sheathed at his left hip and a dagger sheathed at his right thigh. He looks every bit of a wood elf.
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Background: Arion’s father was gone a lot while growing up, being a scout, his father would be gone for days, if not months. So each time his father came home, Arion would ask questions about his travels, wanting to know everything, becoming fascinated with the stories of the missions and adventuring. As Arion gotten older, he was becoming restless at home, always out hunting and tracking, sometimes tracking just because. His father had noticed this and understood, since he was the same way.

Arion’s parents sent him off to be a scout, the leader was the same one that Arion’s father studied under. Besides learning the basic skills of fighting, using a bow, hunting, tracking, and everything a ranger needs to know, he was also being taught to scout. Man, did he love it, every minute of it. Sure, now and then he would screw up and get reprimanded, but he still enjoyed it and was a quick learner, rarely making the same mistake twice.

The day he passed the class, his father beamed with pride and couple of days later, the two went hunting together, just the two of them, his siblings wasn’t with him this time. It was a great time, they caught a nice size buck. Out of everywhere, the forest was where he felt at home. Just being with nature, being one with nature. On the way home, they heard something and went to investigate. They came across a lone wolf pup, thin, mangy, and weak. They took the pup and searched until they found the wolf den. Two pups were inside dead, it looked like the might have starved to death. Judging from the tracks, there haven’t been an adult wolf in days. Arion’s father thinks there may been some other predator that either chased the wolves off or at least killed the mother. How this pup managed to survive on its own was a mystery. So Arion took the pup for is own, named him Timbur, and soon the pup was healthy once again and became Arion’s faithful companion.

Between various missions, he would return home, his family always happy to have him home. A few friends of his had lovers or gotten married, but he was too busy for that, one day, but not right now. A year later, word had spread that an aiudara was found in the jungle, another elf had accidently stumbled across it. News of it spread like wildfire for no one seem to know where this particular aiudara led to. It had been studied and seems it haven’t been used for many many years and after all the talk of what to do about it had finished, scouts were called, to enter the portal and to see where it led. A dangerous mission indeed, for who know where it went to? It was the unknown and Arion’s father had that look in his eyes, but his mother quickly put him check, reminding him that he had a family, head of household. Father hesitantly agreed, but Arion volunteered to go, the thought of exploring the unknown excited him.
The day before he left for the mission, his family had a party for him and the next morning after a tearful goodbye and well wishes for the trip, Arion departed, starting a new chapter in his career…

Roleplaying sample: The whole area was a buzzed of the news, it had spread like wildfire, it was all everyone was talking about and it was no different for Arion and his family as they sat down for dinner.

"Lanliss, don't even think about it and I mean it."
Father sighed. "But Dardlara, I'm-"
"Don't but me. Yes, I know, you're one of the finest scouts, but you have a family here, this isn't like the other missions, you might not come back."
"I've been on other missions before that was dangerous honey and you know that."
"Yes, but this different, you can get out of fights and always know which way to travel, but this...aiudara, no knows where it leads to, you could be killed right after you enter who knows what, or worse, you enter that portal and and something happens that you be stuck there, unable to return."

Arion ate quietly, listening but not saying anything. He could understand both sides of the argument and he saw his mother on the verge of tears, which is rare, even his siblings were quiet during the discussion.

Lanliss then gave a heavy sigh as he sat back in his chair. "Alright Dar, if it makes you feel better, I won't go."

His mother had sighed a great relief at that and all seem well again. Although his father was disappointed, Arion thought he would be more upset than this. Later, when the family had finished the meal and were all sitting on their deck, Arion decided that it was time to speak up, it now or never.

"I'm volunteering for the mission, Zenuiver going to as well and I told him I'll be joining him."

Well, you can hear a pin drop it was so quiet, only noise was from an occasional cricket or a frog. His brothers and sisters along with his parents just looked at him. His siblings as the look of surprise on their faces, his mother though was in shock, and is father? He had the look of one of pride and concern. They all began to talk about it, they were worried of course and Arion expected his mother to begin objecting but only half heartily. His father had some serious questions for him, wanting to make sure Arion knew what he was in for.

Later on when everyone was going to bed, Arion checked around the house to make sure all was secured and his mother met him in the living room. "I know you expected me to put my foot down, but..I know you are well skilled at what you do and you will be chosen, I know that. They are going to take the best ones for this mission. If you stayed and another take your place and isn't as good, I would feel guilty if I made you stay. Your father was different, he has a duty here, but you are single." She then hugged him tight. "You just be careful and stay alert, understand? Everything will be new, and remember your father's words, "Never assume and always expect the unexpected."

Arion hugged her back just as tightly, "I will. I am still surprised father didn't argue with you more during dinner."
His mother then grinned. "That's because he doesn't like to see me cry." she then winked at him.
Leaning against the wall, watching the others rush by him, he grins. "Go ahead, go get that treasure that's laying there. Be more for me after you die."

Last edited by Seekr34; 03-18-2019 at 07:28 PM.
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Old 03-18-2019, 03:48 PM
MurderInParidise MurderInParidise is offline
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Very interested, thinking of building a monk!

Name: Ogeaglial Lom
Race: Elf (Creepy alt racial trait.)
Class: Monk (The Gray Falcons)
SHEET (WIP, almost done):

Background: Qhok'naal is one of the lesser known liches of the universe. He was an elf born on Golarion, but immigrated to Castrovel to complete his transformation. Most people on his former home planet assumed he failed, and none in Sovyrian have any idea what happened to the strange man that they may have met briefly. He built a keep far in the jungles, but only a few weeks journey from civilization. He has been biding his time for centuries, increasing his power, building his armies, and training a superweapon. Many years ago Qhok'naal sent his undead servants out to get him some children. Over a few decades he rooted out which one was the best, and disposed of the others. He named this favoured one Ogeaglial.
Ogeaglial was raised and trained to become a perfect weapon for his adopted father. The only other children he ever knew all disappeared by the time he was thirty. His caretakers were mindless husks, and his teacher a devious evildoer. Ogeaglial became a scout because that is what was ordered of him, he seeks to deliver information back to his master, in order to help him gain more power. Between missions he would enjoy returning back home to the keep, but is eager to travel more. He's endlessly studied the known universe, but seeks to discover yet more. When he returns the only one waiting for him will be Qhok'naal. For now he has been living in El, trying to make connections and get into the Scouts.

Personality: Ogeaglial has been trained from the moment he was kidnapped to fit seamlessly in with normal society. Unfortunately, he takes it to the extremes, exactly copying the body language of people he meets. This, combined with his other unnerving mannerisms lead many to find him quite creepy. Other than those things, he is actually quite a decent man. He obeys the orders of his superiors, aids his companions, and reports back to his master. He has few hobbies, but he does enjoy making porcelain sculptures and baking. He is courteous to most people unless they give him a reason not to be, and only takes risks when they are truly worth it to him. He has little personal ambition, and little trust in anyone other than his master.

Roleplaying sample:
The two remaining elven children were brought into the throne room, the torches lit with arcane fire, the same fire that burned in the eyes of Qhok'naal as he saw them approach. The children had no names, one was a boy and one was a girl. They were hardly 30 years old. Their ghoul keepers salivated hungrily, knowing that they would feast on one of them today. As the children bowed before the dais, Qhok'naal spoke.
"Welcome children. Welcome welcome. You have grown so much, but only one of you will continue to grow. Tonight you prove yourself to me, prove yourself worthy to be the general of my infernal armies when we someday rise to conquer." His voice resonated, despite his lack of vocal cords. The children were to fight, and Qhok'naal already knew which one would win. She, in addition to her training had begun to manifest sorcerous powers. He was going to name her Isilynor. Their shackles were removed, and they prepared for combat.
They circled each other, once, twice, and then a third time before the girl made the first move. She remained at a distance, letting her magic do the work. The boy began to shiver as he was struck by her ray of frost. The rest of the battle went in much the same way, her easily blocking his moves and using both magic and martial might. Qhok'naal had not expected the boy to be good, but had expected him to at least get a few good hits in before he died. Eventually the boy was knocked to the ground, and the girl stood over him smirking. She could have easily killed him, but took a moment to flaunt her victory.
"Surrender now, and I'll kill you quick! Lest I leave you to the ghouls!" The boy showed no fear, no emotion at all. Then he spoke, with a voice that reminded one of razor blades and curdled milk.
"There is no honour in surrender. The only honourable death is death in battle. You are a worthy adversary, I will not deny you that honour." Both the girl and Qhok'naal laughed at his statement, but before they had stopped laughing, the boy made a sudden move. He went for her eyes first, and soon enough she lay dead on the floor. The boy bowed before the throne of Qhok'naal. The lich was surprised. He soon realized that the boy had been playing a game with her, waiting for her eyes to be within range of his fingers. Truly this was the one to lead his armies. But now he needed a name.
"I applaud you my son. Your name shall be Ogeaglial, and mine to you shall be father." The lich led his new son off to train him for one century, after which time, he would be unleashed on the world. His orders were simple. Recruit, gain information, and of course, get stronger.

Last edited by MurderInParidise; 03-18-2019 at 08:42 PM.
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Old 03-18-2019, 06:30 PM
Kshnik Kshnik is offline
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Jaunas Hummingbird

Character Sheet: Complete

Race: Elf Sex: Male Class: Monk/Fighter Age: 78 Height: 6'1" Weight: 188

Race Traits: Elven Immunities, Keen Senses, Desert Runner, Weapon Familiarity, Low-Light Vision
Class: Monk (Master of many styles, Ghost Hunter) 1, Fighter (Brawler) 4
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Order: The Emerald Vigil
Trait: Sovyrian Scout, Reactionary, Heavy Hitter






Goblins !!! If you are allowing or want a goblin sign me up.

Last edited by Kshnik; 03-19-2019 at 10:10 AM.
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Old 03-19-2019, 08:56 AM
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Name: Raynier Wulflund
Race: Half Elf
Class: Wizard (Sword-Binder)
Order: Emerald Vigil
Background: The Bastard son of Lord Garnyier Wulflund and an unknown Elvan woman, Raynier’s arrival at court was considered a scandalous affair, a group of well armed Elves appeared at Wulflund’s ancestral home with a baby in tow. Zero words were exchanged as they marched into the grand hall and deposited the half-blood at Garnyier’s feet. While the Lord denied the child few could deny the Wulflund features, made more uncannily beautiful with the hint of Elvish that permeated throughout.
Surprisingly it was the Dowager Wulflund, Garnyier’s mother, and self proclaimed expert of decency and propriety that welcomed the bastard into the Wulflund household. Like all frontier lords, Raynier was given an extensive education in warfare, while slimmer than the average human, and seemingly frail, the elvish blood in his veins gave him an uncanny power that belied his size and allowed him to exceed all expectations given by his teachers and his father. But it was with his grandmother that Raynier’s true education took place. In her grandson she saw fresh blood, strong and capable of reinvigorating her house, as well as a student capable of mastering the arcane arts she had used to protect her house for several generations. Martial and Arcane; Swordmanship and Spellcraft, both worlds became his to master and combine into a deadly dance of death and destruction. His abilities, while still raw and underdeveloped, had a strong foundation to build upon when the Elves came back to claim him.
His family was upset, his dowager grandmother furious, even his father seemed put off when the Elvish delegation demanded Raynier pack his bags to begin his training far away in Elven lands. Raynier however was excited at a chance to meet a mother he had no memory of, and learn about his other family and their heritage.
Unfortunately a reunion was not to be, taken to a mysterious city called El, Raynier was given several instructors and a minder to keep him from shirking his lessons or exploring the grand metropolis. None of the trainers, teachers, and sages who came to test and instruct him knew anything of his mother or her family, only that Raynier was to be given every opportunity to prove his worth to the Elvish people or be exiled back to human lands.
Raynier greatfully soaked in the culture and history of his elvish ancestors, and learned much of where he came from. His martial instructors were pleased by his combat prowess, but disturbed by his inelegant straight blade. His arcane master was astonished by his inate skill in the arcane arts, simple spells and cantrips already mastered and a spellbook full of arcane theories and experimentations as Raynier tried to unlock more hidden spellcraft from the aether.
Before long his instructors were forced to conclude that the Human Bastard Raynier was a valuable asset to the Elven community, and he was told that after his a four year stint of service in a special program he would be reunited with his mother, and allowed to join her family as a true elf.
Personality: Raynier has always been an outcast, unloved by either of his heritages and yet he has seemingly stolen the best of both. Constantly tested since a young age Raynier is confident of his abilities, and bolder than the average elf, yet he has learned patience and how to look forward into the future, an envious ability for a human to possess. Used to being looked upon as second class, Raynier is good at slipping unseen from the eyes of his “betters”, a man of few words the halfbreed is content to let others tongues waggle while he listens and remembers unnoticed.
Roleplaying sample: Raynier was finishing off a skin of elvish wine when the trouble started. “No, not started, it started when I sat down to order my drink. I should have recognized the bigots for what they were when I came in..... Maybe I did?” They reeked of cheap drink and long hours toil. Their simple fabrics homespun and sweat-stained. Large, bruised fists clenched as they formed a semi-circle around the table.
“Friends, it is late, and you seem upset,””and inebriated.””let me buy you a round before I make my way from this establishment?” A handful of coins spill on to the table, silver glitters in the light of the candles and lanterns strewn about. Enough for several rounds, and change to spare, certainly enough to buy Raynier ten steps towards the door. The muttered slur of halfblood was all the warning Raynier needed to prepare for the locals onslaught. A muttered incantation, a flick of the wrist, a wiggle of his fingers and a pinch of bat were all the ingredients necessary to plunge the poorly lit bar into darkness, the light magically snuffed out even as Raynier dropped into a tumble under the table and across the floor. Scrambling quietly as his new “friends” drunkenly stumbled into each other striking out at every noise around them.
When the spell ended two of the brutes were felled by their own companions, and bruises covered the remainder. Atop the counter by the door stood the half-elf, an exquisite sheathed blade held out across his body, ready to be drawn. As the leader of the men started his charge Raynier did not grasp the blade however, but rather made a sweeping gesture with his fingers toward the thug. The blade sang from the sheath as it spun toward the offending human, a whirling ballet of death. As the man cried out, hands outstretched and head fearfully turned away from oncoming fatality, the blade stopped, nearly vibrating as with a hunger for flesh. As the local thug looked up and past the blade he saw the cold, hard gaze of the elfblooded wizard, clenched fist vibrating with the blade.
Suddenly a smile cracks the hard exterior, and a sly grin takes over Raynier’s face. “If you didn’t need the drink before, you do now.” Crooking his fingers back toward him, the wizard’s other hand thrusts out his sheath as the blade spins back to his master, and it’s home. And with a nod to the battered crew before him he turns to the door and leaves, whistling an Elvish tune.
DMing: Last of the Hunters
Playing: Jayson Nesbitt , Thron, Zel

Last edited by Mrjoegangles; 03-19-2019 at 08:58 AM.
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Old 03-20-2019, 08:16 AM
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OneDarkness OneDarkness is offline
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Character App
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Name: Dain Zinsalor
Race: Half-elf, Male, 25 years old
Class(es): Bard 5 (Archaeologist Archetype)

Dain is clearly not of full elven blood given his more square jawline and more robust frame, but you can't be without some fey influence when you have pointy ears like that. He is a fair height being about six feet if you had to guess with light brown hair that he lets hang loosely to just above his shoulders and braided in the front to keep it from blocking his vision. Greenish brown eyes, under thick eyebrows, he is a handsome enough young man though not the norm that most elves are used to and there are few enough half-elves about in El.

Dain is not the type to sit on hands and wait for something to happen, and despite his ability to pull pertinent facts almost from thin air, he is very much a firm believer in following his gut instincts. As much as book can teach someone you have to get out there and see it in the real world before you can truly understand something, for how can you truly tell somebody how terrifying something is is you haven't seen it for yourself. He encourages others to be hands on and not get too lost in the details of things, as sometimes you just have to play the cards you were dealt and make the most of it. He prefers to be in the company of others, and ideally others who are looking for that bit of adventurer and not to anti social as where is the fun in that. Dain puts a great deal of weight on his word, and if he gives it to you, you can count on him doing the best he can to follow the spirit of it. By that same token he expects the same of others and those that do not follow through will quickly lose his trust. He likes everybody to pull their own weight, and doesn't take kindly to bullies or whining.

There truly isnt much to tell about Dain's early years, for they were quiet and unassuming. Both of Dain's parents are of half-elven blood, his mother, Tara, is a hard working potter who makes beautiful pots and vases of all shapes and sizes. His father, Foran, is a herbalist that dabbles in alchemy with a small shop and a herb garden that focuses on medicinal cures. Dain is their only child and they are devoted parents that ensured he lacked for nothing growing up and much of what he learned he learned from them.

His hands were deft enough that he would have made a fine porter, and he had a knack for alchemy that could have him following in either parents footsteps, but truthfully the idea of doing either for the rest of his life filled him with boredom. He wanted to go out and do something, see the world, make a difference and maybe even have a little fun along the way. Luckily for him the Scouts needed some new recruits and his variety of skills and lack of ties were just the things they were looking for.

He learned everything he needed in the Emerald Vigil, they molded him into the confident young scout you see before you now. Even when off duty, he tends to be just passing the time between missions, but it never stops him from visiting his parents for a home cooked meal.

Roleplaying sample: Either copy it from an existing game or introduce your PC.
Dain had only been back for less than a day before he had been recalled, something that very rarely happened and almost never boded well. Luckily he hadn't even had time to unpack, so he grabbed his gear from the corner of his room and headed down to the kitchen where his mother and father waited patiently with the messenger that had been sent. Nodding at the messenger, the younger elf politely excused himself to wait outside, while Dain gave his parents a quick hug and hopefully set their minds at ease. "Don't worry mum, probably just a last minute training exercise or somebody of importance who needs a bit of extra protection for something local. Be back here before you know it, and if not and I am able will send word when I will be off service once more."

His father chuckled. "Likely story, that poor lad out there is probably part of some plot of your to get out of helping me weed and plant the new garden like you promised."

Dain laughed. "Now would I do that, though the timing is coincidental..."

His mother rolled her eyes and shook her head wistfully. "All the same be careful out there and we expect your next stay to be longer, and maybe with a nice young woman in tow."

Dain smiled, but didn't answer her question before joining the messenger outside. "Lead on friend, lets see what trouble we are getting into today."

Posting Status: Posting is slower than usual, less free time, bear with me.
Life Update - Apr 29th: work is busy, posting delayed...

Last edited by OneDarkness; 03-20-2019 at 11:26 AM.
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Old 03-20-2019, 10:35 PM
mightymconeshot mightymconeshot is offline
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Name: Variel the Sun-Touched
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Race: Dimdwelling Desert Runner Elf

Class(es): Barbarian

Background: Variel is from a loose tribe of elves who live on the borders of their lands. While most talk about the civilization and they were the precursor race over the upstart humans and dwarves, his tribe never left behind their nomadic roots. They live on the edge of a large desert travelling with their animals and occasionally stopping to trade with wandering merchants. While nomadic, they could hardly be called crude as they often craft beautiful woven clothes, rugs, and jewelry. While not particularly violent, life is hard that far from civilization and death is accepted as a natural order. It was into this world that he was born. As a child he helped tend the animals. As he grew up he was trained in the sword and spear like all of his tribe. Before long he was working with another pack of young elves hunting and bringing back supplies. As he got older he learned to be a warrior and defended his people from those who would kill them. After decades, his family took a pilgrimage to the capital and it was here he saw first hand the world of civilization. While he had been in minor towns and cities, nothing ever quite topples the largeness of civilization as a race's capital. Deciding to stay was and it was not long before he was a recruit for EG-1. His desert living and training was well suited to the military life and he quickly adjusted.

As a nomad, Variel lived life on the move. Travelling to new locations year round in pursuit of some resource his tribe did not have or to reach the merchant road to sell their makings for things they couldn't make. Exploring was natural as breathing and given a chance to be the first elf to explore new situations was too compelling to resist. He quickly proved his worth as a valued member. He isn't the first one to send or the one to make first contact. He is the elf that gets the squad out when things go sideways. The heavy weapon that is used when diplomacy fails and force is needed to make it back.

When not travelling or training Variel lives in the foreign quarter of town. He never much liked the haughty attitude of his people regarding other races, but always got along with those he meet. He likes the hustle and bustle of the quarter and the variety of those who move through it. He frequents adventurer's quarters and has thought many times of leaving with one of the many groups forming and departing. But his life is long and for know he is content to simply live in one place before taking back to the road.

Personality: Variel is a loud man of many words. He is the one around the campfire boasting about what he has killed or who is the most deadly. More than once he has been called a little dwarvish or orchish in his behavior with explosive consequences for all involved. When in town he is a heavy drinker, often carousing late into the night to be found passed out in an alley or gutter somewhere. A heavy gambler, it has landed him in trouble more than once. Despite all of the negative traits, he is a pure professional when out in the field. He moves with the grace of his people only to explode into a fury of death from the shadows. He is perfectly content to be the muscle of the group and not the brains.

Roleplaying sample:

From a Sci-Fi Black Crusade Game

Originally Posted by mightymconeshot View Post
As the others debated, Da'Kuan let them talk. It mattered little what they said. He has his own problems. The main nuclear accelerator has become unstable. Facing a shut down, the machine spirit had automatically started a shut down of the power source and shuttered away the fuel. The backup had kicked in automatically. A countdown timer had started in the corner which he dismissed with a stray thought. Sending a thought burst, he started to run through the damage, both to himself and the suit. It was painful. Equally worth a few bolter rounds worth of damage or a glancing hit from a plasma weaponry. Or as it seemed, a crash landing.

The servo-skull was struggling, but it was to be expected. The crash had been violent and he had not had time to make the necessary orbital scans. With little data, it was no doubt completely overwhelming the machine spirit. So he refocused its directive. The burst of machine code ripped out before an answering burst came back. The data stream opened almost immediately. Structural integrity was at 4%, major components still intact. Storage lockers gone, fuel gone, weaponry destroyed, engines gone. Major pieces intact, but no original structure remaining.

Satisfied with the report, another burst of static ripped through the air before an answering burst came back. Unsatisfied, the two launched into a salvo as heavy as bolter exchange. Its sensors were useless to finding the way. Worse, they had been offered no briefing or composite scans. It was infruiting to leave such details. If the sergeant had been offered them, they were never shared before his decapitation. But he remembered much from the Red Planet. The auspex couldn't do much with the present conditions. But hopefully it could do more with a more focused query. Sending it to the edge of the crash site, he scanned for electrical currents and radiation. Moving it to another point, he repeats the query. Sending it around a dozen times, he continues to have it scan for it. Burst after burst. The static squeals burst back and forth between machine and machine. Compiling the data, he trioned to map the fields. If he could just figure out what directions they flowed, he would know the poles. Not great, but better then nothing. As he ran the numbers, he moved over to Price's body. Pulling out a large combat knife, he slices off a fist sized chunk of meat before eating it. As the rush overwhelms his mind, he filters through the memories quickly. He had no desire to know what the man had done in his life. He just wanted a map or a briefing. Moving to the bloody mess that was the pilot, he grabs one of the metal plates. Straining, he quickly dumps it over revealing a piece of flesh. Carving off a piece, he repeats trying to find something.

Finally turning to the others, "The data is inconclusive. I am unable to access the ship's data without a work station. Since we are on limited time, I doubt you will wait for one to be made. A solution is being formulated. For now we should salvage any gear. I will carry his body. It will be useful. "
Hope everyone is well! Keeping my time occupied.

Last edited by mightymconeshot; 03-22-2019 at 08:25 PM.
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Old 03-22-2019, 08:13 PM
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Application - Tanyth Qintalor
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Name: Tanyth Qintalor
Race: Elf (alternate racial traits Fey-Sighted and Fleet-Footed)
Class: Bard (archetype Chronicler of Worlds)
Traits: Sovyarian Scout, Gray Falcon Trait, Maestro of Society, Planetary Traveler

Character Sheet: Here


Tanyth's parents are both members of the Brightening Dawn, a bardic college in El. The birth of their first and, so far only child, was welcomed with an exuberant party thrown by the college. Tanyth spent her childhood among the Brightening Dawn, cared for by the members as if she were their own. Her education came mostly from the college, learning from it's members how art and magic intertwined. The performances and lessons that most enraptured her were always the ones about far off peoples. Whether the language of the Lashunta, songs from Golarion or her mothers tales of her performances in the First World, Tanyth knew she wanted to see and understand it all.

When she reached adulthood she sought out a position with the Gray Falcons to fulfill her desire to experience more of the universe. Her training with the Gray Falcons taught her to move quietly and swiftly, to use her magic to hide her presence and to end combat as quickly as possible. Her years working with the Gray Falcons have lately become something of a trial to Tanyth, she finds herself conveying messages to the same places with no chance to explore or learn about anything new. Fortunately, the recent discovery of a new network of aiudara has reawakened her curiosity and passion. And she intends to be the first to learn about the people that live on the far side of the gates.


Tanyth is strongly driven by curiosity, and her genuine interest in the art and language of others tends to win her friends. Some may find her focus and questions a little intense. Others may notice that she never seems to share as much information about herself, a result of the cautious nature of the Gray Falcons training.

Accustomed to being surrounded by conversation and music she is only quiet when needed, the rest of the time she makes conversation with her travelling companions, or if lacking a willing conversational partner will hum tunes or practice pronunciations for whichever language she is currently studying.

Roleplaying Sample

The door slams open and Tanyth strides through, heading for the desk in the centre of the room and the senior Gray Falcon agent sitting behind it. Coming to a quick halt right at the edge of the desk she launches into a clearly rehearsed speech. “Cyran, I want to be assigned to explore the new aiudara network. I already have more than enough experience travelling through the gates and speaking with those we have established relationships with. I need something new to improve my skills, to properly challenge me and this is it.”

As Tanyth pauses for breath Cyran holds up a hand, before explaining wryly. “You’ve made your boredom with your normal assignments quite clear. I’ve already made preparations for your transfer. You have two weeks to prepare before departing to the new aiudara along with the other scouts that will be assigned there.”

A delighted smile breaks across Tanyth’s face as Cyran speaks. “Thank you Cyran, I’ll make preparations to leave at once.” With a quick salute to Cyran, Tanyth leaves as quickly as she came. Humming a tune to herself as she begins to plan what she will need for her new assignment, and the party that her family at the Brightening Dawn will surely insist on having in celebration of her new posting.



Last edited by bookworm; 03-23-2019 at 08:59 AM.
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