For ease of my and your reference, please copy and paste your application into a single post in this thread. Once character sheets are finished, please include a link to your sheet in the same post.
Are you new?: I'm well versed in 5e, but new to the setting of Eberron. The idea of pulp fiction and high fantasy mixed together appeals to me though. I really like The Mourning as a concept, and the sort of post-Hiroshima fear it foments in the setting. The idea of injecting maddening Lovecraftian forces from beyond in a setting already dealing with a major inexplicable crisis really entices me and I hope to see themes of cosmic horror used and expanded on.
Last edited by hugehuman; Feb 25th, 2020 at 12:26 PM.
Four Keys to Understanding Goblin Tradition and Location: Goblins and the Goblin language have a great respect for tradition. Stories and legends from the Age of Dhakaan still inspire the goblin races today. The language is slow to change, but change it does. Darguun, founded in what was once the seat of ancient goblin power, is the most conservative culturally and linguistically. Goblins in other parts of Khorvaire, especially those living in human cities may use words differently. In Darguun, chib meaning "boss" or "big man" is used by goblins, hobgoblins, and bugbears alike exclusively to address someone of higher stature. In Sharn, however, it is commonly used by goblins to address anyone bigger or powerful than them, whether hobgoblin, bugbear, human, or dwarf.
Honor: Goblins are deeply concerned with honor. References to honor are encountered in many contexts, from praise (the expression of admiration Paatcha! literally means "to offer honor") to greetings (contrast the casual saa with the more formal saa'atcha, the equivalent of "I'm honored to meet you"). Goblin recognizes two distinct forms of honor, however. Atcha refers to personal honor, earned through deeds and carefully protected. Muut refers to ordinary honor or duty, something gained by doing one's job properly. A warrior earns atcha in battle; a guard gains muut by observing his watch faithfully and well. Muut is something that a Dhakaani knows instinctively, just as a worker bee knows its job. Ancient Dhakaani and the Heirs of Dhakaan possess a strong ingrained mutt, but some of the surface goblinoids (dar), particularly from Marguul have had this instinct corrupted, perhaps by something the Daelkyr did.
The Common tongue does have this semantic issue. When using it, I use Goblin to refer to the language or overall species, and goblin for the subsecies. This problem is solved if you use the Goblin language, in which the overall species are the Dar, and the subspecies are golin’dar (goblin), ghaal’dar (hobgoblin) and guul’dar (bugbear).
-Keith Baker
Hierachy: Goblins are keenly aware of their status (even informally) in relationship to other goblins. This is most obvious in insults: taat is a term for someone of lower status than the speaker, while gaa'taat, even more offensive, says that someone is less than a child. Hierarchy can more subtly be seen in in the expression of gratitude, however. In most circumstances, the proper response to the rendering of a service is ta muut, "you have muut." Generally interpreted this as "thank you," it is correctly "you have done your job." It is an acknowledgement that carries no sense of debt or obligation on the part of the speaker. Only a goblin who feels a deep and true sense of indebtedness would use the phrase Ya panozhii kita atcha—"I owe a debt to your honor." It is worth noting that Goblin has no expression equivalent to "you're welcome." Acknowledgement and thanks are accepted as a due and require no response.
Biologically, they (dar) weren’t designed to question their place in the universe; they fundamentally knew it.
-Keith Baker
Gender roles are clearly defined. Most soldiers are male, and armies are never mixed - females tend to perform support rolls for the tribes, as well as guard history and lore.
Body Language: Spoken words are only a part of Goblin conversation. In addition to body postures common to all humanoids, goblins have mobile ears—hobgoblins more so than goblins or bugbears—that express attitude, anxiety, and other emotions. Applause is shown by striking the chest with an open hand, a salute by striking with a closed fist. Most notably, goblins do not casually touch. The shaking of hands is regarded as a human affectation—oaths are sealed by the touching of blades. Public embraces are discomforting for those involved and for witnesses. Embraces are reserved for trusted family members in private, although exceptions are made for those bound together as shava (see below) and warriors caught up in the excitement of victory.
Goblin terms: Blood of Six Kings: An oath of sincerity among goblins.
Desperate Times, The: The dark ages of chaos after the fall of the Empire of Dhakaan. Particularly conservative members of the Dhakaani Clans might argue that the Desperate Times extend into the present, but most goblin historians agree that the Desperate Times ended with the domination of Khorvaire by humans, somewhere between 3,000 years (when the human Karrn the Conqueror established Karrnath) and 2,000 years (when Galifar I united the Five Nations in a single kingdom) before the present.
goblin: A term that causes much confusion as it applies both to the small-statured goblin race and to the three related races of goblins, hobgoblins, and bugbears (as well as other less well-known races). The longstanding tradition of referring to the related races by the term "goblinoid" has been abandoned by forward-thinking scholars of Wynarn and Morgrave Universities, an attitude that is slowly spreading among the general population.
Goblin cuisine: While often unrecognized by more "civilized" races, goblins have an ancient and well-established culinary culture. Typical goblin cuisine varies by region (that of Darguul is more "pure" and exotic, that of city goblins more influenced by human cooking) and somewhat by race. Food tends to emphasize a chewy texture, and sour and bitter flavors—a preference carried over into wine and beermaking. Buns and starchy balls of noon are common staples and pickling is a favorite form of both preservation and seasoning. Boiling and steaming (often in flavored liquids) are the most common cooking methods. All food is relatively simple, hearty, and portable once prepared; goblin food sticks closest to this, while high class hobgoblin food can be varied and labor intensive. Bugbear food is the least finicky, often along the lines of meat on a stick or a pot over the fire. Surprisingly, goblins also have a remarkable sweet tooth and desserts such as shaat'aar have found popularity as street snacks in Sharn and other southern cities.
Silent Clans, the: Although technically numbered among the Dhakaani clans, the two Silent Clans stand apart. They are formed entirely of goblins and are renowned for their stealth: the taarka'khesh ("silent wolves") are scouts, while the shaarat'khesh ("silent blades") are spies and assassins. By ancient tradition, the Silent Clans do not take sides in any conflict, instead acting as mercenaries of complete impartiality and reliability.
Name: Ren Squirrel-Herder Race: Forest Gnome Class: Revised Ranger with Class Feature Variants (Horizon Walker) Background: Noble
Backstory and Goals: Ren was born to a wealthy family that lived within the woods of the Aundair, a tree filled town known as Elandora, it was a beautiful mix of technology and magic. His family were rangers that specialized in fighting creatures of the other planes. They were hired from all around Eberron to fight them when local authorities could not, including aiding the Dragonmarked houses and had a good relationship with most of them. As their reputation grew, others came to the town to learn their trade or to join in training others. Together they had made Elandora an ideal academy ground for others who wished to learn such skills and become master rangers.
Gnomes, mostly known for their innovation and sensitivity to magic made for excellent Horizon Walkers, their natural resistance to magic made it tough for them to attack and their use for speaking to small wild animals made it easy for them to hunt. His family had been in the practice for centuries, not long after the great migration of his ancestors from Thelanis, and to think, before then, they were simple squirrel herders.
During the war, Ren, his family and those that lived and trained in the town were bought to fight for them when it involved planar creatures. Those that were not trained enough, but sought adventure left the academy in search for glory and fought in the Shadow Marches. Those with completed training, were hired to fight in the mines with the dwarves in Mror Holds, attacking the demons that had claimed land in the underground.
Ren and his family, chose to venture to aid their fellow gnomes, helping them become the nation of Zilargo. Ren with his training made for a good scout for the gnomish armies, but was kept out of any major battles because of his youth. The war was long and the family, as well as the academy, had stretched themselves very thin. Many were lost during this war, sacrificing themselves for the greater good.
Ren and seven others were the only ones that survived from Elandora, and the town that his family had created had been burned to the ground by forces they could not clearly detect or point a finger at. They were acknowledged for their acts during the war, rewarded nicely, given titles and badges. The first given to Ren was a medal that had his families crest on it, it was from his father who died, it was requested to be given to Ren as his last, dying words. The other was a medal for his bravery and skills, the gnome and his remaining family accepted the medals and were allowed to leave.
The seven that were left were his love, Jae, his uncle Doren, his twin older brother and sister Faren and Garen, Jaska, a friend of the family as well as Loke, Maren and Beda who were training within the town. Those that did not have a relationship with the family took off, where to, he did not know. His family, and loved one chose to continue fighting, even if it wasn't the Daelkyr. They joined the Clifftop Adventurer's Guild because it seemed that the guild was doing good things, and took in many lost soldiers who no longer had a home. The family put most of their wealth into the guild to make sure that there was enough space for all the new recruits, making sure that they were all welcome.
His days of training were over, his time now consisted of checking in with his loved one, Jae at the guild, as well as the rest of his family. After a drink or two, they find out what they are assigned and then go on with their day completing whatever the guild asked of them. They would then return to the guild, celebrate with whoever was there and continue on with their lives. If someone from the family was assigned to a longer mission they would send letters or leave notes at the guild to let them know what was going on. They all remain close to this day and hope to one day, under the leadership of the guild, to build a new academy to train rangers in their arts, as well as start families and die of old age, or die doing what they love.
Recently, Ren has found himself in the spires of Sharn, he had just completed a mission of disposing of a small band of dealers that were selling Dreamlily, a powerful drug that was used in the war to stop pain, but was deemed illegal because of it's addictive nature. What Ren found though, was not actual Dreamlily, but a version of it, with much harsher side effects. During their investigation, before they took down the dealers, they had met a man who was high on the drug, he began to speak of the ancient evil that lurked under them, something about them coming back, but he then reacted like he saw something, something horrifying. He had a heart attack and died in his bed, the look frozen on his face.
Ren decided to stay in Sharn for a little longer, to have some time to himself, see the city of spires and have some fun before he went back to the guild. After sending his letter and receiving the approval from the guild he had been on a tour of the taverns there, having drinks and meeting the people that lived there.
Goals:
- To hunt rare and dangerous creatures from the other planes.
- To one day build an academy through the guild and continue to train others in his families ways.
- To settle down with Jae, become strictly a teacher, have a family and die of old age.
- To contribute to his friends and family as best he can and keep their bond strong with each other.
Optional:
Character Sheet:
Will create on if picked, but will lay out the idea I have for him. Ren will be a dexterous front line fighter that can offer support with ranged fighting if need be, but his design is to get close to magic users and make their lives a living hell. With his natural magic resistance, he would be able to wave off spells that would mean to stop him and make them suffer up close and making sure his companions aren't being spell killed. He is a good scout, and can use his skills with speaking with small animals to find his prey. As a Horizon Walker, he will be able to detect and hunt creatures from other planes, which in this world would be a good skill to have. He is optimistic like his people and always looks on the bright side of things and is cheerful and a good member to have around, at night he would tell stories, using his illusion magic make a play of his stories to entertain his friends.
Appearance Description: Hard to find a gnome ranger haha, so a description would better be in order.
Ren is 3'2" tall and is quite lean and light, his skin is a nice tanned olive colour, his sharp eyes are brown, the colour of oak trees. He has a large rounded nose and sharp, angular facial features. His hair is down to his shoulders and is a black, brown colour and has it wrapped into a ponytail. His beard and brows match the colour of his head, his beard is long enough that it covers his neck and is quite thick. He wears nicely made traveling clothes, leather coat, pants and boots, covered by a deep green tunic. Along his arms and back are tattoos, images of some of his families final moments before they died, he wears them out of respect for his family. In the centre of his back close to his neck is the tattoo of his families crest, which is a bow, sword and staff behind a shield in the front, on the sides are two squirrels, both looking at the shield. He has scars along his body, as well as on his face from the hunts he has been on. He also has a wooden pipe that he smokes out of when he has some downtime.
Roleplaying sample:
Are you new?: To DnD5E or Eberron? New to Eberron but not new to D&D 5E.
If new to Eberron: I have been reading over the wiki and can say that this setting is very interesting! Just the amount of planes that they have is awesome and, as a horizon walker would love the idea of having to travel to or have something to do with a major player within one of those planes. Also love the idea of exploring the ancient kingdoms of the giants that had been exterminated and their relics left there, now covered in forests, Xen'drik it's called. But overall, if there are demons, fey, deities that need a lesson in manners, then Ren is going to fit nicely in to this world.
Last edited by The Dark Star; Mar 1st, 2020 at 01:53 AM.
Name: Digger Race: Warforged Envoy Class: Druid of Spores Background: Hermit Character Sheet
Personality Traits
I am very idiosyncratic in my view on life, death and undeath.
I am still learning many things in this world, and am prone to ask many questions.
Ideal: Compassion - All beings need compassion in life, as they cross the border, and as they lie forever in death. Bond: The shifter community of The Eldeen Reaches welcomed me into their fold when I was alone and did not know how to proceed. They helped me find a purpose worth living for, and I feel very protective of them. Flaw: I am still very young and naive.
Player Goals: I'd be interested in exploring the status of Warforged following the Last War. The reaction to these artifacts of war slowly and uncertainly integrating back into a society scarred by the very event of their inception seems really interesting to me. In fact it's more or less the primary premise of my character!
IC Goals: Learn more about this odd and enchanting world they are just beginning to get a handle on.
Backstory and Goals: Digger was commissioned by Aundair less than two years before the close of the Last War. They were intended to fill the sorely depleted ranks of combat medics. After their creation they were trained in the arts of medicine and healing by their creator, and in how to scurry about the battlefields quickly enough to patch up the wounded without being immediately skewered. They deployed to Aundair immediately after their training was complete, but by this point the long war of attrition was coming to it's end and Digger never actually saw combat personally. Even so, the depredations of war had left a grisly task behind, and it quickly became Digger's task to prepare and bury corpses rotting on old battlefields.
Before long the Treaty of Thronehold was signed, officially bringing the Last War to a close, and Digger planted the few remaining bodies to rest in the ground before being released from service to their own devices.
Not knowing what to do, Digger retreated from society and went into the deepest parts of the forests of The Eldeen Reaches. They found a quiet place with shade, and a small cave to inhabit, and thought about death. When men and beasts died, their bodies were claimed by nature. When Warforged died, their bodies remained preserved from nature. They sat and meditated on this for a great deal of time.
That was where Tieth, the Cliffwalker Shifter, found them, standing silently still in a glade staring at a dying poplar unmoving.
Tieth had been traipsing through the wood with a handsome young buck, playing the fair maiden as he chased her about the trees. When she came upon the statuesque Warforged standing rigidly still she stopped so suddenly her suitor nearly ran square into her.
"Is it dead?" She asked eyeing Digger, still standing their immobile watching their dying friend.
Digger knew this poplar was dying now, it had caught some illness and there was nothing they could do to stop it, though they had tried. Now they just watched, hoping their presence would be some kind of comfort for the old tree.
"NOT YET. SOON THOUGH." Although still motionless, the voice that emanated from Digger was cold and metallic, like thin wires being vibrated against one another rapidly. The effect must have been startling as Tieth jumped straight up into the air, landing with a thud on her befuddled suitor, who himself decided this was too strange for him, immediately throwing her off and scrambling away from the strange Warforged.
Tieth watched her erstwhile beau flee into the dense wood and considered following, but steeled herself instead and turned back to the now clearly alive Warforged. "If you're dying, we should get you some help." Her voice was firm, even though she continued to eye Digger nervously from a slight distance.
"NOT ME. THE TREE. I DO NOT KNOW IF I AM ALIVE. IF I AM NOT ALIVE, CAN I DIE?" It had been quite a while since Digger had spoken to another sapient being. They had chatted with plants and animals as they went about their routines, but no one had come this far into the woods before.
"Well of course you're alive. If you weren't how could you be speaking to me?" Tieth's tone was puzzled, but somehow also exasperated by this strange turn of events. "In fact, I'll prove it to you. Just wait here." She ordered him before turning away and bounding into the forest.
Digger decided it was nice to speak with someone who would reply, but did as she told him. They didn't want to leave their friend the poplar alone after all.
It was a few hours before Tieth returned. This time with an old and wizened shifter in her wake. Digger had remained precisely where he was when she had left. "This way Moonspeaker!" She skipped lightly over the forested ground covering great distance with each step.
"Are you sure it's not dead?" The old shifter wheezed as he followed Tieth.
"NOT YET..." Said Digger. "Not yet..." Said Tieth in Unison before letting loose a peal of laughter.
The old shifter hopped into the air almost as high as Tieth had. "Jumpin' Jehoshaphat! Don't scare an old goat like that!" After a moment the old shifter caught his breath. "Well you're alive at least..." The wizened Moonspeaker approached Digger, looking closely at their leaf and vine covered chassis. "...and you don't appear to have any significant damage. So you say you're dying?"
"NOT ME. THE TREE." For the first time, Digger moved, their arm rising slowly to point at the poplar. "THEY ARE SICK. THEY WILL DIE SOON. I CANNOT HELP."
A slight smile quirked at the corners of the Moonspeaker's mouth. "All living things die in the Fullness of Time, young one" His voice carried the gnarled weight of years as he said it. "But perhaps it is not time for this one just yet."
The old man walked forward toward the poplar, standing in front of it he began to speak a language unlike anything Digger had heard before, after a few moments a brief glow appeared in the tree, and then was gone. Digger wasn't sure what they had just witnessed, but they could already tell that whatever ill had befouled the tree, was gone, and that it was healthy once again.
"HOW..?"
"Would you like me to show you? Come along then." The old shifter began walking away from the copse, beckoning Tieth and Digger to follow.
Digger began training as a druid under Moonspeaker Eleorosh. They spent the next year learning much from the old shifter about nature and about life. The warforged proved a surprisingly adept student, quickly picking up the ways of nature and the druidic arts.
During their training Tieth would make regular visits at Eleorosh's Glade, and they quickly came to view her with great fondness. Fortunately for them, she seemed to feel the same way. Though she was destined to become a Loreguard, for digger this was some other inscrutable role in Shifter society.
Because of his advanced age, Eleorosh had a hard time travelling between the Shifter clans, so once they became adept enough, he sent Digger out in his place. At first the shifters found this strange to the point of affront. But with the help of Tieth and Eleorosh's blessing Digger began to be viewed as a member of the community.
Less than two years after beginning their training, Digger was summoned urgently back to Eleorosh's Glade. They found the old man in poor shape.
"Your kind learns remarkably quickly. You have learned enough, you will be fine without me." A hacking cough wracked his frail body.
"YOU ARE DYING? WHY?" Although his metallic tone did not shift at all, there was a sense of deep sadness in Digger's words.
The old druid reached out from his rocking chair to grasp Digger's wood and metal hand. "Do you remember what I told you when we first met?"
"ALL LIVING THINGS DIE IN THE FULLNESS OF TIME." Digger held their master's hand gently in their own.
"And I've had more time than most." The spark that filled the old druid's eye had not diminished even this near death. "This is alright. And when I am gone I want you to go out into the world. In fact, I have arranged it for you. After I am gone, you will travel to Sharn, to join the Clifftop Adventurers guild. You need to see the world Digger. And the world needs to see you!" He let out a wheezing laugh. Somehow he sensed Digger's concern. "Don't worry child, Tieth will take you, I've already spoken with her about it. I think she's excited about the adventure!"
Digger stayed by Eleorosh's side continuously for the next three days as the old man drifted into and out of consciousness, sometimes he was well enough to tell stories of the old days, of his own adventures across Khorvaire. Other times he could do little more than lie in bed quietly. Then, on the morning of the fourth day, he didn't stir. Digger sat there with his master's now stiffened hand cradled gently in their own.
Tieth, who had been sitting vigil as well, came in to find the two of them in that motionless state, like a tableau. Wailing she grabbed Digger and hugged them tightly, crying onto their stiff wooden shoulder.
Once again, Digger did their duty, preparing the body and burying it in the glade. Planting a poplar to mark the spot where their master would rest for eternity.
Class Features: You can cast a druid spell as a ritual if that spell has the ritual tag and you have the spell prepared.Ritual Casting | Starting at 2nd level, you can use your action to magically assume the shape of a beast (1/4 CR, no swim or fly speed) that you have seen before. You can use this feature twice. You regain expended uses when you finish a short or long rest.
You can stay in a beast shape for a number of hours equal to half your druid level (rounded down). You then revert to your normal form unless you expend another use of this feature. You can revert to your normal form earlier by using a bonus action on your turn. You automatically revert if you fall unconscious, drop to 0 hit points, or die.
While you are transformed, the following rules apply:
Your game statistics are replaced by the statistics of the beast, but you retain your alignment, personality, and Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma scores. You also retain all of your skill and saving throw proficiencies, in addition to gaining those of the creature. If the creature has the same proficiency as you and the bonus in its stat block is higher than yours, use the creature's bonus instead of yours. If the creature has any legendary or lair actions, you can't use them.
When you transform, you assume the beast's hit points and Hit Dice. When you revert to your normal form, you return to the number of hit points you had before you transformed. However, if you revert as a result of dropping to 0 hit points, any excess damage carries over to your normal form. For example, if you take 10 damage in animal form and have only 1 hit point left, you revert and take 9 damage. As long as the excess damage doesn't reduce your normal form to 0 hit points, you aren't knocked unconscious.
You can't cast spells, and your ability to speak or take any action that requires hands is limited to the capabilities of your beast form. Transforming doesn't break your concentration on a spell you've already cast, however, or prevent you from taking actions that are part of a spell, such as call lightning, that you've already cast.
You retain the benefit of any features from your class, race, or other source and can use them if the new form is physically capable of doing so. However, you can't use any of your special senses, such as darkvision, unless your new form also has that sense.
You choose whether your equipment falls to the ground in your space, merges into your new form, or is worn by it. Worn equipment functions as normal, but the DM decides whether it is practical for the new form to wear a piece of equipment, based on the creature's shape and size. Your equipment doesn't change size or shape to match the new form, and any equipment that the new form can't wear must either fall to the ground or merge with it. Equipment that merges with the form has no effect until you leave the form.
Wild Shape | Starting at 2nd level, you are surrounded by invisible, necrotic spores that are harmless until you unleash them on a creature nearby. When a creature you can see moves into a space within 10 feet of you or starts its turn there, you can use your reaction to deal 1d4 necrotic damage to that creature unless it succeeds on a Constitution saving throw against your spell save DC. The necrotic damage increases to 1d6 at 6th level, 1d8 at 10th level, and 1d10 at 14th level.Halo of Spores | At 2nd level, you gain the ability to channel magic into your spores. As an action, you can expend a use of your Wild Shape feature to awaken those spores, rather than transforming into a beast form, and you gain 4 temporary hit points for each level you have in this class. While this feature is active, you gain the following benefits:
When you deal your Halo of Spores damage, roll the damage die a second time and add it to the total.
Your melee weapon attacks deal an extra 1d6 poison damage to any target they hit.
These benefits last for 10 minutes, until you lose all these temporary hit points, or until you use your Wild Shape again.Symbiotic Entity
Racial Traits: You were created to have remarkable fortitude, represented by the following benefits:
You have advantage on saving throws against being poisoned, and you have resistance to poison damage.
You don't need to eat, drink, or breathe.
You are immune to disease.
You don't need to sleep, and magic can't put you to sleep.
Constructed Resilience | When you take a long rest, you must spend at least six hours in an inactive, motionless state, rather than sleeping. In this state, you appear inert, but it doesn't render you unconscious, and you can see and hear as normal.Sentry's Rest | Your body has built-in defensive layers, which can be enhanced with armor:
You gain a +1 bonus to Armor Class.
You can don only armor with which you have proficiency. To don armor, you must incorporate it into your body over the course of 1 hour, during which you remain in contact with the armor. To doff armor, you must spend 1 hour removing it. You can rest while donning or doffing armor in this way.
While you live, your armor can't be removed from your body against your will.
Backstory and Goals: By the time of The Mourning, no one needed to be sold on Warforged anymore. The possibilities--for war and worse--were already well-explored, and recent advancements into leadership and true autonomy were rumbling across Eberron. Sentience was given value and equated with a soul, at least for some, and this shift began to breed both suspicion and wonder.
It was Charming, so long in service to House Cannith--thirty-three years long--who began to see the path to freedom. This warforged had commanded armies of machines and men and monsters; he'd acted as obedient servant and slave to foreign dignitaries and ambitious businessmen; he'd taken up books and strategy and learning, made a true study of magic, and became adept at working the forges--so much so that, for a time, Charming helped create the very race he was trying to unchain.
It was only sheer luck, the very best of good timing, that had Charming away from Cyre when The Mourning occurred. Still, it shook him--so many lives lost, so many lives prevented. His were a finite number, now, made even more real by the Treaty that prevented warforged propagation. In his years observing the peoples of Khorvaire, Charming had realized that small groups had smaller voices; what, then, would become of the warforged, who could now only live and die out?
A people need dignity if they're to be respected. A people need to demonstrate talents outside death and destruction if they're to be respected in wider circles. The warforged were becoming a people, loosely, but Charming had begun to wonder if they could become actual, accepted people. He spoke these thoughts aloud, but few of his fellow constructs would listen, their purposes all but perished in the cataclysm. With determination and a single-minded drive to lift his race from the doldrums, Charming set forth to become as charming and talented as possible. He encouraged modifications. He encouraged proper dress and etiquette; at times, he encouraged partaking of food and beverage, or at least the actions of such, just to make others feel more comfortable in his presence.
Charming was a great purveyor of tea, not to mention an excellent sommelier.
Some laughed at him. Some did much worse. Yet, there were a few who saw value in adopting this new role. Thirty-three years ago, one of the first out of the forge, Charming had a much different name. He could still remember it, still bore it with pride among those of his House—those who remembered. Here we have AV3307, affectionately known as Victory: The line that started it all.
Victory, he would have.
Baron Merrick d'Cannith: Although Charming's interaction with Merrick of Sharn seems much tempered and terribly rare these days, the warforged can recall a time when he was Merrick's gem--a glowing advertisement for the possibilities presented by sentient constructs crafted for war. Although Charming has little time for gods and spirits, it could be said that the warforged worships Merrick, mostly from afar, absorbing the man's teachings and discoveries and hoping desperately to be included in Merrick's inner circle. Much of this is borne from the loyalty Charming had for Arren d'Cannith, his ultimate creator, and there is little that would make Charming betray a cause that helps put Merrick ahead of the other House Leaders--or that would prevent Charming from taking on a mission that could catapult his beloved Merrick ahead of the others in the House.
Lisel Lightfoot: Although it may seem strange that an old warforged would befriend a youthful halfling, Lisel and Charming have been fast friends for nearly three years, ever since Charming visited The Honoured Hound and saw the girl getting etiquette lessons by her mother. Intrigued by the exercises in ways that Lisel was not, Charming managed to ingratiate himself to both mother and daughter, and Lisel suddenly had a friend with whom to endure her studies. In truth, Charming excelled in etiquette where Lisel faltered, but the halfling's improvements were so great from the disaster she once was, her mother allowed the relationship to continue. Born in Sharn, Lisel dreams of one day travelling to the Talenta Plains and riding the raptors her father swears exist--and, of course, she'll be taking Charming for protection. The warforged, who never really had a friend before, absolutely adores and dotes on the girl, and he believes that one day, perhaps soon, they will take that trip!
__________________
Integrity has no need of rules.
(Albert Camus)
Last edited by BinnFord; Feb 27th, 2020 at 10:01 AM.
Name:Skyr of Clan Doldarun Race: Dwarf (Mountain) Class: Bard (College of Lore) Background: Noble Ideal: Generosity - My privelege was given to me so that I could use it to benefit the world. Bond: Clan Doldarun - I hold close to my family's ideals, but know that there is a lot more gray in the world than black and white. Most of my kin refuse to acknowledge this, but I've adopted a more realistic approach to life, particularly the constant battles, in the realm below. My clan expects me to delve even deeper and take a spire of my own, but I've shied from the traditional Doldarunic battlecraft and use my talents to weave tales and song instead. At least for now, I've turned my back on the expectations of my heritage, and am traveling in secret to find a potential solution to The Dol Udar or War Below. Flaw: I'm idealistic to the point of inaction. Trinket: Jhorash'tar Axe- As a young child, I was often left to my own devices while my family was focused on making battle. Once, I found a small passage out of Doldarunhold where I could slip in and out without arousing the suspicions of the guard. Wandering the wilderness outside of the mountain, I met a lone Jhorash'tar child and knowing little better, we became friends. We would often meet while our respective clans were doing battle. Though neither of us could speak the other's language, we would spend our time singing our favorite children's songs to one another. For weeks we continued to meet until one day, the orc child didn't show up to their meeting place. Instead, I found the boy's delicately wrapped war axe at the spot. I've never told anyone about my rendezvous, and have kept quiet about the source of the axe. I named the the weapon, Hljomrsbrodir, or Brother Music after my friend and fashioned the head of the axe to a fine piece of dwarven cedar. Backstory and Goals: