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Old Jul 8th, 2016, 02:15 PM
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Aethera Aethera is offline
spinning in circles
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Cast of Characters

Please post your character outline here for reference. You can post as much or as little as you like, provided you post at least the basic details relevant to meeting your PC on the street and seeing what they look like and how they act. Everything else is up to you. As for full character creation, I wrote a walkthrough some time ago which should have everything you need. Let me know if there's anything else!

Character CreationStarting Level: 4

Allowed Material: SRD, 13th Age Lores (core book), 13 True Ways, Book of Loot
Potential Material: Bestiary 1 and 2, Book of Ages, Book of Demons, Deep Magic, other sources -- run it by me first, please

Magic Items: Choose two items central to your character, I will hand out a third free early on (probably during a story scene you roleplayed especially well, or when you encounter a minor character who could offer such a thing). You can make suggestions in your private threads if there's a third in particular you'd really like, but that third one is my choice. More than those three will require cashing in an Icon success.
Equipment: Characters start with the armor and weapons listed in their class, any standard traveling gear you want, the two magic items above, plus items approved by the GM. If your background/history suggests you might have more money than those things alone, I will award gold on a case-by-case basis. I won't make you track consumables like rations or arrows as long as you start out like you're fully prepared.

Campaign ID: 535. From the character Profiler, go to Edit the sheet your character, and enter 535 in the "join a campaign" box. This helps me keep easy access to all your sheets in one place.

PlayerCharacterConceptUnique ThingIcons
RoekahsBazzioxunorthodox mentor dragonbornAware of the Sands of TimeArchmage+ Prince+ Emperor+ Priestess~
GC13Scabbmonk support for heroShadow from Darklight RealmCrusader~~ Druid~
AwesomeEllieEmakfifth wheel lizardwoman bardGuythraxix the Apex Predator of Intelligent TomesThree+++
AlphaeusTheronspiritborn paladin of the GoldSon of the Gale 
JackinIronsDaxself-imposed exile/guideScion of the EmpireEmperor~ Gold~ Prince+

Maelona, Imperial PrincessGwir, Maelona's familiarGuythraxix, Emak's companion
MacGuffinFlavorOne Unique Thing


Last edited by Aethera; Oct 11th, 2021 at 02:56 PM.
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Old Apr 4th, 2019, 08:37 PM
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LittleBlueNA LittleBlueNA is offline
The red pandas are coming
Good People
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Last edited by Aethera; Sep 16th, 2021 at 04:42 PM.
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Old Apr 5th, 2019, 07:44 AM
Roekahs Roekahs is offline
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The Mentor/The Unwitting Martyr
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Name: Bazziox Drelgaks Ziucnanaex Bazziox has gone by many different monikers with two of the more popular being ‘The Aberrant’ and ‘The Peculiar’. Underwhelming monikers to be certain, so Bazziox rebranded himself ‘The Enigma’. The Enigma
Novel Role: The Mentor/The character that She Who Writes intends to kill off for the hero to succeed ... BUT, once he learns his fate, he won't be super accepting of this roleThe Martyr
Race/Class Concept: Dragonborn/Cleric; Domains: You gain 4 additional background points that must be used somehow in relation to knowledge or lore.Invocation of Knowledge/Lore: You must use this invocation during your first round of a battle. When you do, you get a quick glimpse of the battle’s future. Roll a d6; as a free action at any point after the escalation die equals the number you rolled, you can allow one of your allies to reroll a single attack roll with a +2 bonus thanks to your vision of this future.Knowledge, Once per battle, as a quick action when you are engaged with an enemy, roll a d20 (your ‘trick die’).

As a free action before the start of your next turn, give your trick die to a nearby ally or enemy who is about to make an attack roll. The trick die result becomes the natural result of their roll instead.

Invocation of Trickery/Illusion: This battle, attacks against you by enemies that moved to engage you during their turn miss on natural odd rolls.
Trickery, Once per level, you can generate a one-point conflicted relationship with a heroic or ambiguous icon you do not already have a relationship with. The relationship point remains with you until you gain a level, and then it’s time for another one-level relationship.

Invocation of Love/Beauty: As a free action, at some dramatic moment, you or an ally of your choice can roll for one icon relationship that might have an effect on the battle. Rolls of 5 and 6 are beneficial as usual, though the GM will have to improvise what that means in the middle of combat. The invocation’s advantage does not occur the moment you roll initiative; wait for a dramatic moment instead.
One Unique Thing: I am able to track time precisely and I know that time sometimes flows in ways that should not be possible.

Description/Personality:Bazziox is clearly from the line of The Gold, however, his scales take on a darker hue than the Great Wyrm. The exact cause of this difference is unclear. Perhaps it is just natural variation; perhaps there is more to it. Bazziox is a tall, thick dragonborn and his equipment is usually stained from his travels. He rarely bothers to clean any of it, unless there is a Royal function that he is required to attend. Even then, the armor hardly gleams and anyone looking at any of the cloth can still readily make out the faded stains. Aside from the lack of maintenance, his clothes are fairly nice and he does replace them when they become too worn. The only possession that Bazziox has with him at all times is his pipe. It is thin, long-stemmed, and black with a trail of smoke (almost) always curling out of it.

Bazziox’s personality shifts with the topic at hand, swinging from serious to lighthearted or relentless to aloof with just a simple shift in discussion. Bazziox’s current debt to the forces of Light, and specifically The Priestess, keeps his more … fringe … behavior in check most of the time. Still, he is not opposed to justifying the means by the ends and won’t hesitate to propose options that may not be ‘Imperially’ sanctioned.

  • The Archmage/Pride, 1 complicated~: Bazziox was working a new lead toward manipulating time when some of the Archmage's agents appeared. At first it was a complete rush to have drawn the attention of the Archmage, but all Bazziox remembers after that is waking up aching everywhere with his 'lab' in shambles and the Archmage standing in the wreckage, giving him a complicated glare.
  • The Prince of Shadows/Greed, 1 positive+: Traveled as a part of the Prince of Shadows retinue for a time and amassed a great deal of wealth. While Bazziox still yearns for this life of shadow, he was removed from that path and has remained a valiant defender of the Light. Of course, he is still willing to cross lines that probably shouldn't be crossed from time to time.
  • The Emperor/Civilization, 1 positive+: Bazziox has served the Empire from time to time and has been a strong ally for the Emperor. However, his exceptionally unorthodox style does not always gain him the most approving of receptions ... especially when it pertains to one of the Royals. Regardless of his style, however, he is viewed as a reliable mentor and is often called upon when there is no other choice.
  • Temporary - from Love/Beauty DomainThe Priestess/Kindness/Envy, 1 conflicted~: Bazziox was saved from the Shadows and brought back to the kindness in life. Yet, his past deeds and sporadic desires contradict these tenets too frequently.

  • Druidic Shaman of the Forest +4
  • Competitive Knowledge Seeker +4
  • Former Shadow Agent, Saved by the Light +5

Three Big Challenges
  1. Even the debt owed to The Priestess
  2. Eldin The Brilliant, a senior advisor to the Emperor, has admonished Bazziox for his unorthodox ways and has declared that the dragonborn is a liability to the Empire. The declaration has not taken full root yet, but Bazziox must prove him wrong before concerns spread ...
  3. Regain some level of his All of his possessions were forfeit to the Priestess as initial penance for his transgressions, including his amassed wealth (which was quite vast)lost wealth, possibly even through legal means this time ...
The Encounter

And on an OOC NotePreferences for the game: Definitely want to see some humor, goofy or otherwise. I always enjoy a good ‘mystery’ and of course plot twists.

Status: Shaking off the rust ...

Last edited by Roekahs; Apr 4th, 2020 at 12:10 PM.
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Old Apr 10th, 2019, 04:41 AM
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AwesomeEllie AwesomeEllie is offline
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Will Be A Real Man-Eater
Emak the Meek
Bringer of Book

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Full Name: pronounced EmahkEmak GoodMan
Titles: The Meek

Race: Lizardqueen
Class: Bard
One Unique Thing: Carries Guythraxix the Apex Predator of Intelligent Tomes.

Favorite Items: "Her" book, Guythraxix
Favorite Hobbies: Reading
Least Favorite Taste: Musty book bindings
Least Favorite Sensation: Being suspended upside-down

Physical description: The wonderful Emak is petite and small for a lizardfolk, a smidgeon under four and a half feet tall and not breaking the 60 pound mark. The tan scales that wrap around her body are accentuated quite well with pale off-white scales that coat her underside. Two crests of small, polished horns run back over her scalp and down her neck a bit, smoothing down to a single subtle ridge that continues down her spine before becoming a subtle row of spines across her tail, which she often has curled up around her waist, under her skirt. She wears an ankle length skirt and baggy shirts, with lots of various sized pockets stitched into them for holding stuff. Her often upward gaze of vibrant orange eyes is often enough to draw attention away from her humble dress and odd tools of the trade though.

Personality: Demure to a fault, Emak is kind but often has a tendency to accidentally fade into the background, busy fiddling with things or cracking open the big tome she totes around. Not to say that she doesn't do anything, though - she has an extensive knowledge of various magics, picked up from things she's read and heard, and when pressed can put on rousing performances and weave enthralling yarns. Her time in the stacks, and the misadventures therein, have left her with a well rounded skillset that often finds itself useful out in the real world, something she's very thankful of.



Three Big Conflicts1) Find some more books to feed Guythraxix, preferably on a budget

2) Work up the courage to say no to an inconvenient request made of her (but not one that's important of course - we're being reasonable here)

3) Find other Intelligent Tomes

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Old Apr 10th, 2019, 08:12 PM
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Name: Scabbard of Iron
Role: Hero's Bodyguard
Race/Class: Human/Monk
One Unique Thing: My shadow isn't from around here; it's from a realm where the balance between light and dark has been broken.
Icon Relationships: ~~Crusader, -Orc Lord
Theme Relationships: ++Discipline, +Temperance

+5 Monk of the Heavenly Valley
On his sixteenth birthday (the earliest and most common time) he chose to enter the monastery. After two years of training he was made a brother and chose his temple name, Scabbard of Iron. Training in the monastery never stops, however, and since then he has continued bettering himself while acting to protect the Heavenly Valley from those who would prey upon the helpless.

+3 Son of a Cobbler
Before entering the monastery, Scabbard of Iron had an ordinary name and an ordinary family in one of the settlements in the Heavenly Valley. For sixteen years he had plenty of time to experience the kind of life he now seeks to protect for others, and while he's left it behind he carries the skills with him.

Scabbard of Iron's head and face are clean shaven as is the custom of the monks. His body is unadorned with any tattoos, meaning he has not yet performed any deeds or devotions he wishes to immortalize on his flesh. The clothing he wears is simple but effective, allowing him full freedom of movement and presenting a respectable image while not requiring great attention to be placed on appearance.

Last edited by GrandCommander13; Jun 7th, 2019 at 07:02 PM.
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Old Apr 27th, 2019, 02:09 PM
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Last edited by Aethera; Dec 26th, 2020 at 03:06 PM.
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Old Jul 10th, 2019, 05:35 AM
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Old Jul 15th, 2019, 07:20 PM
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"I'm not going to be the ref! I'm a villain! Don't you see?!"
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Dim the Drowned|Telephus Lorre|Togashi Shingo
Tribulations of the Stag

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Old Jul 22nd, 2019, 10:58 PM
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Old Aug 11th, 2020, 03:56 PM
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Der Wilde Jager


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Old Oct 7th, 2021, 07:59 PM
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The Son of the Storm

October was a pleasant time of year in many places. In the town of Waterford, however, it was simply four weeks of grey days that alternated between a cold mist and colder drizzle. The autumn leaves laced the land with color -- the sunlight yellow of elms and aspen, the ruddy gold of birch and cottonwood, and the russet of oaks; or, more accurately perhaps, it could be said that they should have laced the land with color. The winds that ran howling through the hills at night had run their frosty fingers through the bedazzled boughs and stripped them bare, tossing the Fall's jewels into drifts and snags where the constant wetness dulled and muddied them into a sodden mass. A line of stores and homes crowded a single narrow road likes children huddled together, the log and chink structures highlighted by three larger brick establishments: the first sat at the end of the street overlooking the tiny town square, the second on a hilltop just behind the town proper, and the third was a watermill. By appearances, the first served all the official needs of Waterford, while the second served as a small house of worship and healing. The role of the latter, of course, was obvious enough...even at this early hour the mill was already turning.

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The window by your table in the roadside inn looked out upon this scene. A large fire has heated the cozy dinning room where a couple other guests and locals have gathered to enjoy breakfast. Pewter plates of bacon, sausage, mushrooms, tattie scones, eggs and pudding have begun to drift out from the kitchen, carried by the eldest daughter of the inn's owner. As you settle into your food and tea a steady thump...THWAK from outside rouses your attention. You can quickly trace the sound to the only motion nearby -- the last house in town, a small home built just downriver from the millrace, set slightly apart from the others like an unwanted sibbling. Out front a shirtless man is splitting hit to set the cut, the second hit to cleave the logs. He is not a hulking man...much the opposite, his muscles are stretched over a tall, lithe frame. The scruff that lines his jaw and chin clearly hasn't been shaved today, and his long hair is pulled back into a haphazard bun, leaving the close-cut sides exposed. A motif of a ships wheel is tattooed over his heart, while the entire right shoulder and arm are laced with delicate linework designs of naval inspiration.

"I dinnae blame ye for lookin'. Sometimes when I'm cleaning the guest rooms upstairs I stop watch a wee bit m'self, although don't tell me maw." The young woman's voice startles you as she refills your tea. "He's a paladin, doin' some sort of work with the temple up on the hill. Moved in a couple years ago. Nice fellow, comes in often."

She moves on to the next guest, leaving you alone as the paladin finishes chopping wood. Once the wood is split and stowed in a woodshed he disappears inside. With the morning returned to stillness, you finish your meal. As you prepare to return to your room, however, the door to the inn swings open. The man you were watching earlier walks in, though this time clad in what you presume to be his normal gear. Leather oiled pants strapped and fitted close are tucked into high, armored boots with studded soles. A surprisingly ornate half-plate covers his upper body, itself shroud in a massive white naval cloak, embossed around the edges, lapels, shoulders, and waist. His matching armet is carried in one hand, with a shield and flanged mace on his back. Striding up to the inn's small bar, he set the armet on the worn oak, taking his seat on a stool. "Good morning, Torrie. I'll have my usual." His voice bears a similar accent as the locals, but it seems to be mellowed with more formal language. There is a warm, rolling depth to the cadence that complements the roaring fire. The young woman flashes him a broad smile and seems to have already prepared a plate for him. They share a brief laugh as she lingers to speak with him until her mother calls for her assistance in the kitchen.

At this distance it is difficult to tell his age. The sharpness of his gaze, the limberness of his body: these suggest youth. Yet there are lines around the corners of his eyes when he smiles...and are those flecks of grey in his beard? With your curiosity piqued you rise and move to sit beside him at the bar while he removes his gauntlets. As you take your seat you are somewhat surprised to see that there is a flagon of blueberry meadbilbemel with his meal at this hour -- one which he is rapidly draining between bites. After a few moments of cursory conversation, you finally get to the root of the matter -- what a paladin is doing in a town like this, and moreover the fact that he certainly does not look like your average paladin. The man laughs.

"Aye, I'm not precisely your average sort. Came by this station rather by happenstance, you see. My name is Theron MacNageile, of Clan MacNageile. Family are local rulers of the region around the southeastern side of the Midland Sea. Aside from our titles and land, we made our living on the sea. Our ships were gorgeous things, suited to whatever jobs they needed to be -- guarding trade routes, transporting royalty, or even running supplies when there was the plague fifteen or so years ago. I was raised to help run the business, started commanding my own ship nearly afore my first score years under my belt. I loved that life on the water...truth be told I spent more time there than at home. Most times I came ashore I was being trained by my family's military experts in the usual stuff. I passed a solid eight years this way, but as time passed I realized that there was narry a chance for me to be more than a Captain." He paused here, taking a long draw from the flagon, finishing it off.

"My elder brother is a jakey gowk, and a damned self-absorbed one to boot. But tradition is tradition and the firstborn inherits the father's seat at the head of the clan. Now, I would have even perchance been willing to stay and just live life on my beloved ships, but because I was actually good at...well, everything he wasn't, I was only ever seen as a threat; this meant he did everything he could to cause trouble for me. Enough time of that and I decided to make my own way until things played out, and left to commit my services actually doing some folks a bit of good under the banner of the Golden Order." With a sigh he returns to eating, comfortable with the silence. Once he finishes his food he begins to put on his gauntlets once more, and grabs the armet.

"As to why I'm here...well, not everywhere is what it seems. A pot will only start to boil when it isn't watched...and towns like this don't catch much notice." He gives a crooked grin of the sort of man who loves trouble before using the bar's mirror to fasten his armet and leaving the space, closing the heavy door behind him. The room feels emptier now, but with your curiosity satisfied you head up to your room to prepare for the next leg of your own travels.

Last edited by Alphaeus; Oct 12th, 2021 at 12:13 PM.
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Old Oct 8th, 2021, 05:03 PM
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This Guy!
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That Bastard
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Name: Dax McKenna
Novel Role: Self Imposed Exile / Guide
Race/Class Concept: Former Imperial Scout turned Hermit (Human/Ranger)

Description: At first glance, Dax McKenna isn't too remarkable. Just an older man who is just average height and with a slender frame. It's on the second glance where it's noticeable that there's something more. His weathered visage shows volumes for those who know how to look. His once rich brown hair is sprinkled with gray as is his long beard. But his visage shows a younger glow of a man who has lived fully. His blue eyes seem to dance with conflicting emotions, a man who has seen many dark things and much beauty. Though his eyes and lips are marked with wrinkles and creases that only a smiling man could have. And the scars give him a darker feeling. Some are red and fresh, while others have faded with age. It makes him look like a man who has seen action.

Dax's slender frame, so unremarkable at first, also tells tales of a life lived. Though he's thin, his shoulders are broad and his muscles are hard and wiry like the roots of the trees that he lives among. His calloused hands and tanned skin displays a man who makes his living in the wild. The one part of his stature that stands out are his legs, which are thicker and more muscular than the rest of him. He could be a runner or an acrobat with limbs like that. His clothes are what makes him look like a wild man. He wears thick leather, dappled with varying shades of brown. The garb of a hunter. His boots are especially interesting - though they are worn and crusted with dirt and leaves, they are obviously designed with the High Nobles in mind. One might wonder why he has them.

One Unique Thing: Scion of the Empire

Background Info

The Emperor/Civilization Conflicted - Being a ward of the Emperor and trained from a young age, Dax understands civilization - Both it's good and bad sides. Having abandoned his position as scout hasn't done well for his image with the Emperor but Dax still has friends and contacts.~ |Great Gold Wyrm/Reverence Conflicted - Dax's self exile/desertion from the Empire was noted by most city dwellers. Among the servants of the Great Gold Wyrm, his actions were polarizing. Some heroes hate him for his desertion, while others admire him for his sense of justice.~ |The Prince of Shadows/Patience Positive - For most of his life Dax has been a trickster. Though it was most notable in his youth and life before exile. He was often scolded in The Emperors courts for his antics (The ones where he was caught) Those tricks and pranks amuse the Prince.+


Ward/Courtier +4: Despite being a troublemaker, Dax was still raised in the Imperial Court and learned how to survive in it. He knows his etiquette, he knows how to use his courtly charms and he knows the way that the powerful and ambitious scheme.

Disobedient Trickster +4: From his youth, Dax was a natural scoundrel. He excelled at using shadows to hide and acrobatics to run roofs - all for the goals of pilfering food and playing pranks on stuffy courtiers.

Tracker (from Talent) +5: Dax is an experienced scout and tracker. Trained by the empire as a scout, his skills only improved as he lived as a hermit who hunted the evils in the Owl Barrens and the weaker denizens of the Red Waste who stumbles too far north.

Writing Sample
"Damn it all..."

Dax McKenna looked down as he felt a mixture of resolution and remorse. It wasn't easy to see Verius on the now blood-soaked ground. After all, his now former scout was once his friend. As recently as ten minutes ago. But their disagreement, along with the man's stubbornness had changed things quickly.

The worst thing was the last feeling. That this was correct, though he didn't know where the feeling came from. It felt foreign and unlike anything he had ever felt, 'What is this...?'

The scout shook his head as if he were shaking the thoughts away and bit back another curse, "This isn't right, none of it. You should have just let me leave. I didn't want to kill you."

It was a stupid situation with a terrible outcome. It was supposed to be a search for an iron source. And while the scouts had located it, they had also located a small tribe of savages. Ones that would lose their home, if not their lives, for the Empire's need. It wasn't right, there were other sources of iron, but knowing his merchants and advisors, it wouldn't matter. And he wasn't really close to his father, as the bastard black sheep, so he was certain that his words would mean nothing.

Dax had only wanted to leave, to abandon the Empire and its expansive ways. It's voracious needs that spoiled so much that was whole and beautiful. But Verius accused him of dereliction of duty and wouldn't budge.

Another curse escaped his lips before Dax began to let the oddly content feeling back. Why did a killing feel so natural. Why did immediately look to the east as he wondered what he should be doing. The thoughts flitted through his brain quicker than he could comprehend. The ranger took a deep breath to dispel the thoughts as he took the time to give his former friend as much of a proper burial as he could muster. Then he gave a dark look towards the unsuspecting tribe and began walking to the East.

Life and hospitals suck at times. Starting to catch up now.
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