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Old 03-23-2019, 03:03 PM
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Hall of Fallen Heros!

Please post your characters here alone with a link to your character sheet and a stat block of your choosing.
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Old 03-30-2019, 10:34 PM
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Willow Mossgrove
Human, Female, Early Twenties
Paladin of Sarenrae

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Presence is something that without a doubt that Willow has in spades. Sure she has her natural beauty with her stylish dirty blonde hair, smooth skin and hazel eyes, but more importantly she has the confidence and attitude to go with it. She is a little above average in height, but is still an inch or two shy of six feet, and is toned from hours of blade work and training. On and off duty she favors the colors of the Dawnflower, whether its the golden details on her armor and hilt of her blades or the blue ribbon she frequently ties up in her hair, but outside of that one of her favorite colors is green and is often seen in various shades of green tunics. Other than the golden angelic ankh that she wears on a heavy chain around her neck she wears no other jewelry, but she takes the time with her personal appearance in the form of shadows, stains and other forms of makeup to compliment her appearance.

There is a certain amount of idealistic youthfulness in Willow, the belief that through her own actions she can cause others to want to be better versions of themselves, largely because this what she was taught to believe but also to a certain degree because it falls into her own line of thinking of how things should be. That being said she knows change is a hard long process and accepts people for who they are and is prone to giving them the chances they need to find that path towards perfection, providing whatever help she can, but some acts are beyond redemption and when they happen she will stop at nothing to prevent them from happening again. She generally enjoys the company of others, laughing and finding amusement where she can, and is not the stiff solemn holy warriors that some are expecting when expect a paladin. There are few things that truly frighten her, but all the same being restrained and the deepest dark are not things she enjoys and will get her mind racing and her blood pumping.


Willow's early years are somewhat of a mystery, as she was found dancing around a willow tree in the Mossgrove Forest at the age of four, with not a care in the world nor any sign of her parents, by a priestess of Sarenrae. She has no memory of anybody before that point, and there were no accounts of a missing child or mother that would account for her presence, its only by the grace of Sarenrae that she had somehow survived. The church took her in, provided for her and she formed an attachment to the priestess who found her, who became more like an older sister to her than a true mother. The following years were good to her, not surprisingly she decided to continue to pursue a path with church where she could help others like they had helped her.

When she was old enough to decide, she sought to join the church as a paladin in Sarenrae's service, and after a few years of hard training and dedication enter their ranks as knight of the order. She spent the next few years in service in the community within that she was raised, but it was not enough she wanted to do more, help those who were truly in danger and prove her mettle. An adventuring band passing through on the way to Rappan Athuk for riches and glory, and while riches didn't drive the stories of those who been taken and missing struck close to home in regards to how she was found. The further stories of horrible undead where enough to convince her that she was meant to go there and put an end to such evil, and bring peace to those who resided in the area so that no further lives would be lost to such foulness.

RP Sample
The flickering lights of the torches did little hide the movements of the skeletal walkers coming towards her from the darkness. While Willow longed to use the scimitar that hung at her belt she quickly realized that something more blunt would be best, and grabbed the handle of her heavy mace from her side. Raising her shield up before her she strode quickly forward letting the few steps add some momentum to her swing, she brought the heavy head of the mace hurtling towards the first skeleton with range. "No more shall you strike fear in others, your time here is done."
Posting Status: Posting is slower than usual, less free time, bear with me.
Life Update - Apr 29th: work is busy, posting delayed...
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Old 03-30-2019, 10:55 PM
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LittleBlueNA LittleBlueNA is offline
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Name: Mayra
Race: Half-Elf
Class: Unchained Rogue
Personality: Pragmatic. Extremely self-confident. Not used to working with others, but isn't at all opposed to it. Has no real appreciation of friendship other than as a vague concept.

Background: A fairly common tale, Mayra was born of an affair. After decades of being trapped in a loveless marriage, her mother Tanelia had sought comfort in the arms of a human. While she had been careful, at first, eventually her husband Adamar had found out. He forbade her from seeing her lover again, threatening to kill the human if she didn't comply. Tanelia, heartbroken, stole away to see her lover one last time, and that was the night Mayra was conceived.

When her pregnancy became apparent, Adamar hid Tanelia away to protect their family name. It would be too much of a scandal for the public to ever know, so Mayra was born in secret, raised in secret. She wasn't given her family's name, wasn't allowed to leave the manor, and was never given the acceptance of her father. In his words, a half-breed like her could never amount to anything of significance.

Mayra, naturally, grew to be resentful of her father, as well as rebellious. She began sneaking out of the manor, stealing past the guards, learning to blend into her environment. It became a game for her, a way to prove her own worth to herself. She wasn't always successful, but she never stopped trying. When more guards were posted, she learned to use distraction to get past them. She learned to be patient, wait for them to become complacent before trying again. When she was shut in her room, she learned to pick the lock.

When she came of age, she snuck out of her room for the last time. She knew she wasn't worthless, and she was going to rub his face in it. She was going to find fame and glory, and then reveal her heritage. She would make him acknowledge her, and then she would be the one who rejected him. So it was that she turned her eyes toward Rappan Athuk, for what better place to prove herself than the most infamous dungeon in the world?

RP Sample: Mayra used her mirror to peek around the corner, seeing a group of bandits standing guard in front of an iron door. She held up five fingers to her companions, then slipped around the corner, moving with the flickering shadows cast from the torch held by one of the guards. Reaching into a pouch, she grabbed a pebble and tossed it over their heads, to clatter down the hallway on the other side. Just as the guards turned their heads toward the noise, she slipped behind the nearest one and slit his throat. "Gents," she said with a cocky grin as the dead guard fell to the floor. With a salute and a wink, she ran back down the hallway from where she came. The guards gave chase, barreling around the corner into the waiting trap laid by her companions.

"Not an ounce of brains," she commented later while going through their pockets. "Good work, everyone. Keep that up and we just might survive." It was an improvement from when they had first joined up together, when Mayra had doubted her companions' abilities and seen them as little more than means to an end. Sure, they weren't exactly friends yet, but at least she was trying.

Status: Winter sucks, I'm surviving. 2/28/2020
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Last edited by LittleBlueNA; 03-30-2019 at 10:56 PM.
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Old 03-31-2019, 01:18 AM
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Rab Weep
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Name: Rab Weep


Class: Bard

Rab Weep Sheet: Link

Personality: Rab is your friend. Actually, the only friend you will ever need in a pitch. Charm, good smiles, music, laughter and magic. Real, top-nudge, gnome arcana from the bottom of his heart, straight to you! Positive vibes, cool looks and awesome hand signals. Behind the charlatan and archetypical good-doer lies a cunning strategist and a highly alert colleague and behind that, a sliver of greed and pride is wedged in between all things good.

Background: What are heroes made of? One part steel, one part valour, one part faith (in what differs...) and one part egoism. For Rab Weep that is the truth he relay in songs, poems and fireside stories. According to the truth, he is far from hero material himself, but what can a gnome do? Tales don't go writing themselves. Poetry don't grow in civilized backyards. The art needs a base to grow from, like a plant. A base where danger is the nutrition, fear is the irrigation and the promise of death is the sun.
So Rap Weep, a promising gnome bard (who haven't been able to make it to the grand stages of wealth and fortune yet), has set out to find substance, essence and ingredients for glorious tales, highly appraised musical masterpieces and rich, complex poetry. Where else to start than the oldest crypt if all times, the cradle of evil, the hotpot of death, the highway to decay and destruction? Where else to start than the good old Rappan Athuk?

RP combat sampleFor the love of Gods, Goddesses, Pagan beliefs or heretic tendencies, rejoice and group up. We shall repel this evil and drive it to its knees. Thou are the light in the dark, the corrector of wrongs, the richness in the stew, the sparkle in the wine... Rab gave vent for his words as the creature of scales and ooze noisily approached. After all this time keeping silent and hiding, it felt good to let the words flow. It was a bonus too, for with the words came a steadier belief in their actions worth - that they were lightbringers and heroes and even when approaching this dark den, they had the right of it.

Gather here, let it wear out on moving around and make it suffer when in range. Stick to the banner and let me know if there's anything you need help with?

Rab flicked out a harpsichord from one satchel and caressed his allies ears with the sound of it, soon after. The tones of mourning bass was held up and turned by the light, tactful melody keys as a battle between light and dark. The melody always won, but there was no battle without the enemy.

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Old 03-31-2019, 09:03 AM
MurderInParidise MurderInParidise is offline
Mature Adult Dragon
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I am feeling half-elf cleric, might be a little late, but where there's a will there's a way. I've decided to go for a Gorumite, even though a cleric of Zon-Kuthon would be 100% motivated to do this. In fact, if Vias kicks the bucket, and I'm still in the game...….

Vias KarinsName: Vias Karins.

Race: Half-Elf, blended view ALT racial trait.
Class: Cleric of Gorum.
Personality: When not in battle Vias is very calm, almost lethargic. The second a fight starts however, she comes alive. Outside of battle she is very quiet and meek, rarely speaking her mind for fear of being rejected. In battle she smiles with a radiance of fury, hell to those who get in her way. Her love of fighting can be off-putting to some, but once one gets to know her they may find her endearing. She also loves epic poetry, and has a secret journal of all of her adventures.
Background: Vias was born to two half-elves living in an elf settlement, and her early childhood was relatively normal. She had many friends until her hidden drow heritage began to manifest. In appearance she looks like a normal half-elf, but there is something about her that gives it away. She could see in the dark, and had the tendency to creep up on people from the shadows. She never knew anything was "wrong" with her until others began to point it out. Soon enough she became an outcast, even her parents and siblings began to avoid her. She finally found solace when she was attacked by a group of young elves who fancied themselves righteous vigilantes. In the battle she felt alive for the first time in a very long time. Her worship of Gorum became her life, and she decided to seek out a place of ultimate battle, where she would only be judged by her combat prowess. And that place was Rappan Athuk.
FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!Roleplay sample of a fight: The twin goblins laughed at Vias when she drew her greatsword, something that most people couldn't wield, but the goblins weren't impressed. Vias was honestly happy to have them try to mug her, the journey was getting boring.
"I give my thanks to Our Lord In Iron for this fight, may the blood that is shed empower his glory!" She said, growing louder with each word. The torch brandishing goblins closed in, eager to kill a lone traveller. She decapitated the first with a mighty blow, but the other goblin sliced into her leg with its dogslicer. She swore loudly as she continued the battle. It took a while for her to hit the goblin due to its small stature, and she barely grazed it. It cackled and leaped at her.
"Die longshank!" Sadly for the goblin, it never did get the final blow. As it jumped Vias cut up with her sword, killing it.
"No use wasting spells."She thought as she stole the goblin's copper and went on her way.

Vias Karins | CN | Female| Half-Elf | Cleric| Level 1
Armor Class 16 | Hit Points 10/10 Speed 30 ft (30 ft Armor/Gear)
Str 14 (+2) Dex 14 (+2) Con 14 (+2) Int 10 (+1) Wis 6 (+3) Cha 10 (0)
Saving throws Fort (+4) Reflex (+2), Will (+5) | INIT +6
Common skills: Perception +5,
Senses: Darkvision, Low light vision.
Languages: Common, Elven.
Attacks: Greatsword (TAB+2) (DAM 2d6+2)
Class Abilities: Channel energy 3/3
Battle rage 6/6
Strength surge 6/6
Feats: Improved Initiative (Combat),

Last edited by MurderInParidise; 03-31-2019 at 06:10 PM.
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Old 04-01-2019, 07:44 AM
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Caveman Caveman is offline
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Character overview
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Lord Aardash d'Quivar III
Student of Life and Death
Human Wizard (Necromancy specialist) and Scholar of the Ways of Life



Iron DM 2008 (Runner-up)
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Old 04-16-2019, 01:18 AM
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Norse Norse is offline
Frisky Thrall
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Tormund Teethgrinder
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Tormund Teethgrinder
Duergar Slayer
Clan: Void Hounds

The Void Hounds have delivered the most effective and ruthless assassins, thieves and scouts to the Black Citadel since the beginning... which is a very, very long time ago. Back when the gods drew the duergar below ground, enraged in jealousy with the Duergar smithing skills. Understandable, but unfair.

The time has come for Tormund Teethgrinder to show his worth. The Ministrel of the clan have spoken and sent him to collect artifacts of long passed evil in the name of good. He even pointed out where to do this, which was a great help.

Go seek the mass grave of Rappan Athuk. You will need company for the perils there are great. Scouts say that the light-dwellers gather at Zelkor’s Ferry. The message was delivered in a hastily scribbled note with a gnome slave messenger. Tormund had slapped the gnome, for good measure, and grinded his teeth the remainder of the day in anticipation over his quest and in indignation that the ministry had not offered him the virtue of a personal meeting. Alas, such were the Void Hounds.

Tormund wears a bulging mass of black clothes around his grey skin. He is used to the sun light, but never enjoys it. His iron sole boots are heavy and sturdy and keep his feet safe. Under the folds in his attire, arsenal of blades and other weapons hang in neat rows. It is custom for any of the Void Hounds to wear a mask of the dead, and Tormund take pride in his. It is crafted from bone and ivory, representing the upper skull of a humanoid with black runes edged in around the edges of the eye sockets. Below it hang his long, steel-gray beard.

Among the duergar, both evil and lesser evil thrive. Tormund has always been more glory hunting and good humor than wrath and anger, like some of the others. Maybe the reason he had been chosen to be among the surface scouts and had learned the tongues of the light-dwellers. He laughs loudly, boasts of his own and other clan members grandeur and thinks himself one hell of a good comrade. The sad truth is that many find him grating their nerves, with all his self-importance and out-of-proportions blustering.

Yeah! Tormund had the idea that he would be a most excellent addition to a team of glorious spelunkers. Question was... would the others?

RP sample

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