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  #1  
Old Dec 10th, 2019, 10:05 AM
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The Queen's Chosen

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Old Dec 10th, 2019, 02:23 PM
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Knightfall Knightfall is offline
Hunter of the Wumpus
 
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Magus Twigrix
Character Appearance:
right-aligned image

Name: Magus Twigrix
Age: ?? (He keeps his age a secret, but he is considerably into adulthood)
Race: Fairy (Pixie)
Class: Rogue
Alignment: CG
Background: Charlatan

 


Character Personality:
Magus is a simple pixie. His a hard worker. That is if conning people and stealing their loose change is hard work. He is also a ladies-man. That is if by ladies-man you mean a guy who is constantly hounding ladies due to the fact that he can't ever convince any of them to go out for an evening with him. He is a smooth talker and even smoother with his hands. He steals from the rich and gives to the poor: Himself. Because he also doesn't have much money...

Magus is often found in a bar either half drunk in a cup of ale.... literally in the cup.... Or dancing merrily to the tune of, well, anything really. He always finds his way to the center of attention! Until he picks your pocket, then he disappears. He will ask to dance with you, swear you fell in love with him, concede that it will not work and that you and him must part ways, drown his sorrows in ale, then ask another lady to dance, all in the same night. Like I said, he's a simple fairy.

 


Backstory:
 


RP Sample:
 


 


Sheet: https://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=82998


Last edited by Knightfall; Dec 10th, 2019 at 10:56 PM.
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Old Dec 10th, 2019, 03:22 PM
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Stag
right-aligned image

Name: Brother Iolar O'Damh
Age: 23
Race: Cerva
Class: Monk (4-Elements)
Alignment: NG
Background: Inheritor

Character Appearance: Iolar is not what most would call a normal Cervan, although he has the slim and nimble build of those of the grove his complexion is that of an albino. Many legends speak of the rare eventuality of the white stag and much of Cervan legend speaks of the occurrence of such a creature during the vision seen during 'the Sight' but it is only once in a generation or two that a true Albino Cervan is born and it is always expected that they portent a great impact on the world.

Character Personality: Iolar is confident, but cautious and is one who has heard too much of fates and destiny to actually believe a word of it all. He is suspicious of anything he can not see with his own eyes and measures merit on action, not politics. Iolar is slow to form friendships wanting to see proof of ones value and trust but once that trust is given it is very rarely taken away.
Personality Trait 1: When I set my mind to something I follow through no matter what gets in my way.
Personality Trait 2: I judge people by their actions not their words.
One Ideal: Sincerity. There is no good in pretending I'm something I am not.
One Bond: I protect those who cannot protect themselves
One Flaw: I distrust ideas of fate and have trouble believing in my own destiny.
Backstory:It has stood since before the reckoning of the world and its rebirth that the presence of a stag with fur of white was if anything if not elusive. Beyond that its presence has alyways been a symbol, some legends held that the white stag signaled the presence of the Otherworld or marked some great act of transgression. Some have also viewed it as a symbol of their deity or of royalty and purity.

The Cerva were no different despite their more practical nature the impact of the old times left its mark and there was always a place for a legend to make them wary and to provide them hope. Beyond that their visions during 'the sight' had often fed into the legends of lore. Their own legend of the White Stag or in their case, the White Cervan was three fold. Most importantly the presence of a white haired Cervan was rare occurring as a possibility of once in a generation at the most, sometimes skipping a generation altogether. It was this rarity that fed to the other two aspects of the legend for they believed that the birth of such a Cervan was the omen of a great change, whether good or bad, and that the Cervan would most likely have a large impact on whatever change he or she foretold. Beyond that there was also the fear that the Humblefolk had made some sort of transgression to bring summon the warning of their deities.

An Unexpected Birth
Iolar was both miraculous and unexpected. The parents of the fawn were told that they could not procreate and so when his mother was found with child. They considered the opportunity a blessing and when Iolar was born in white it just let to their own superstition that a miracle had occured. Their own typical pragmatism had been shattered by their misery and being able to have a family only to be blessed with such a fateful child. The last white cervan had been penned into the records was born over two generations ago leading to an even larger fascination with Iolar's birth. No one had realized it had been Iolar's great grandfather do to the practice of handing over such a fawn to the Order of the Hoof and Antler.

Just as his great grandfather before him Iolar's parents gave him a name and passed him on to the order. His parents never questioned the decision even after they were able to produce two more offspring after Iolar of traditional heritage. They never reached out to the Order to meet their son knowing it was forbidden. They had allowed their pragmatism to return coming to the conclusion that letting the Order of the Hoof and Antler adopt him was for the greater good.

The Order of the Hoof and Antler
Each of the closely knit villages of Cervans had been tied together by an order known as the Hoof and Antler. It was their duty to allow the communities to remain independent yet to have a unified approach to their survival within the Humblewood. They kept the order of things and mediated any issues between villages when they arose. They had been known to be approached for recommendation for future cervan leaders and had gained a positive reputation for the accolades of those they had suggested. In addition to their expected duties they also held together a tight brotherhood that had been partially founded on the concept of seeing over the legend of the white stag and adopting any such a fawn into their order. Such was the case with Iolar when they brought him into the conclave and taught him the way of their order.

The concept was a simple one. If the Cervan born of white was to have great influence than they would want to have their own influence on the upbringing of such a fawn. What they didn't expect was for the child to fight so strongly against their teachings. Iolar was the embodiment of cervan practicality and refused to believe anything that was not reasonable and held purpose among their folk. Much of what the Hoof and Antler taught him he considered nonsense, especially when it came to his great destiny.

The White Cervan

Each day Iolar would wake, be instructed to do his forms and be taught the history of his people, including the legend of what he supposedly was and who he was to become. They told him he would have abilities beyond that of a normal cervan and that he would somehow change the course of history just as the others had before him. In the grove that he had meditated in every day were the satues of the white ones before him. Large monuments to heroes of the Cervan which had completed great deeds, many of which Iolar found all too convenient. Iolar had no trust in legends, just in his own abilities so he trained every day for what he saw as a more practical lesson. He spent as much time away from his studies and always finding the training grounds or practicing climbing through the trees and working on his more applicable skills. The majority of his childhood consisted of the Brothers of the Hoof and Antler chasing him down to try and preach to him about one thing or another.

Iolar was often approached by those warriors who had a vision during a near death experience claiming the white stag had somehow saved them. Iolar put little merit in these visions wary of their accuracy let alone the interpretations in what seemed to him a sense of desperation. He did however respect the abilities of these warriors and would brush them off with humility often telling them it was most likely another and that he respected their sacrifice. In truth each one of these strange prophetic accusations bothered Iolar to the core. Not only was the imposition of such a thing impractical, it attempted to rob him of his free will as if he were just living out predetrimined actions. The older he got and the more the legend of the White Sevan was brought to him the more he pushed back. Soon his answers were less elegant until he outright refused to destiny and birthright claiming that he would pave his own path.

It was right when the Order had gotten the call from Queen Lumina for assistance when Iolar had chosen to walk away from the Order. Brother Uasal his mentor and father-like figure had approached him one last time to say his goodbyes but with him he brought the letter. Handing it to Iolar he knew he could not order the cervan to go, but secretly hoped he would make the right choice. After a solemn farewell the two parted ways varying in opinion on what road Iolar would be traveling.

RP Sample: The grove was quiet but for the sounds of the crickets in the trees and the wind rustling the branches. Iolar sat cross legged in the middle of the grove with his eyes closed breathing in deeply and calmly slowly mediating as he had been taught throughout his childhood. Reaching out and attempting to find the balance within himself he noted the lack of presence of any birds within the wood, which was how the cervan liked it. They wars had left their scars and peace was truly found when the feathered folk had kept to themselves.

Iolar however knew the tranquility would not last as he sat within his inner self. The monk was no longer as student and had recently been pressed against his 'noble destiny' more than he liked these days. Earlier in the morning he had once again pressed back, this time perhaps too adimantly. Brother Gravias had tried to insuate that he would take a place among the statues that currently surrounded him and that to do so he must follow the Orders direction. It was then that he pointed out that not one of those they so cherished had and called the Order out as a clutch at a facade of power using him to falsly claim some sort of surperiority over the other groves. It had surprisingly pushed brother Gravias over ther edge and had lead to him attempting to lash out. Iolar had easily dodged the former teacher and left him with a bowl of spilled porridge on his snout when his missed kick landed on the table holding breakfact and catapulted it to his face.

The white cervan swiftly fled in the impending chaos to the shouting of Brother Gravias as he made his way to the sacred clearing where he now sat. He was broken out of his meditation by the approach of footsteps. When he opened his eyes and came back to the present he recognized his petitioner, it was the one he asociated as a father figure, the one who had always tried his best to understand him, the head of the Order Brother Uasal.

"If you are hear about Brother Gravias he did that to himself." he said defensively but was met with only a smile.

"I did hear about Brother Gravias, but I think we all know you just exposed a nerve that had been lingering in our deer brother. Envy does not suit him well and he will repent for his anger. No, Brother Gravias has his own issues to deal with, but he has exposed something in you as well..."

"He did? What did I do? I mean I guess I should have been more controlled in my words against the order, but its not the first time..."

"No not that... you have made your intentions clear. You are leaving us, it is wrong for me to cling on to you so tight."

"Oh... that." Iolar said as if he had been caught.

"Do not fret. I suppose sometimes I think of you as more of a son than a brother, having raised you for so long, but at the end I am not your father, just your mentor. The time has come to release your bonds."

"Don't you dare say I need to go fulfill that prophecy.."

"No. I know I can tell you not what to do. Your path as you have declared is your own to make. I can only hope my teachings will give you the understanding you need to make the right choice. "

[say]I... thank you Brother Uasal.[/day]

"You have earned it. I came here to give you want last bit of knowledge." he said as he pulled a letter from his robe and handed it to Iolar. "The Queen has petitioned the Order for help."

"I am not going to leave here just to be an errand boy for the order Uasal!"

"No you are not, as you have made it clear. She has asked for adventurers to assist in finding those in need of help. The Order cannot get involved for reasons I will not bore you with, politics and all of that." he explained. "However, you are no longer acting on behalf of the order. If you choose to go it would of your own accord. So the question is... there are poeple out there in trouble, people who need you. Will you answer the call?"

"Brother Uasal I'm sorry... I thought..."

"Do not apologize. You do not answer to me, only yourself. Goodbye Brother Iolar, may you find what your looking for out there. Carry my teachings with you, may the choice you make be the best one."

As he made the comment having delivered his final farewell he turned away just to hear the whisper behind him.

"Goodbye... father..." Iolar let out. "I will make you proud."

Iolar knew he would have never gone of the Order of the Hoof and Antler had ordered it. He looked down at the letter in his hand as he clutched it. Damn. he thought. They needed him and he knew exactly what he was going to do, just as Uasal probably had expected. He would answer the call.

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Last edited by Avner; Dec 13th, 2019 at 02:06 AM.
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Old Dec 10th, 2019, 04:12 PM
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The Inquisitive SkyratName: Imogene Camilla Coriander von Milletblossom
Age: 30
Race: Sable Luma
Class: Ranger (Swarmkeeper)
Alignment: Chaotic good
Background: Sage
Character Appearance:
right-aligned image
In terms of size and plumage, Imogene is about as average a Luma as can be. Her family having descended from common rock-pigeons, she has slate-grey feathers, golden eyes and a slight haze of green-and-purple iridescence along her neck. She stands at a modest 1'2".

She is most commonly seen wearing clothes appropriate for long treks outdoors, as her studies take her across the Wylde Wood for weeks at a time. A pair of much-abused glasses rest upon her beak, often shadowed beneath the large wool-lined earflap hat she seems to wear no matter the weather.

Character Personality: Imogene is easily excited, easily distracted, and often lost in her own mind. She is friendly to others, though her absentmindedness and somewhat brusque manner of speech can be offputting to those who don't know her well. She loves a good mystery and will gladly leap into new situations feet-first if it holds any degree of interest to her. This has caused problems for her in both academia and the average day-to-day life: In her mind, rules are meant to be followed only as long as they are convenient to her.
Traits:
-I am horribly, horribly awkward in social situations.
-My train of thought is often derailed. Why should I go from point A to point B when point J is so much more interesting??
Ideal
-No Limits: Nothing should fetter the infinite possibility inherent in all existence.
Bond
-My study of the natural world is my life's work, and I am completely dedicated to completing it.
Flaw
-I speak without really thinking through my words, invariably insulting others.
-Some people scream and run when they see a demon. I stop and take notes on its anatomy.

Backstory:
 

RP Sample:
 
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Last edited by Pseudonymous; Dec 12th, 2019 at 12:16 AM.
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Old Dec 10th, 2019, 06:40 PM
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Application
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Name: Warryn "Acorn" Timbers
Age: 24
Race: Brownie
Class: Cleric (Nature Domain)
Alignment: LG
Faith: The Elder Tree
Background: Outlander

Character Appearance: At three feet tall and 55 lbs, Acorn is rather large by his people's standards. His long brown hair is very curly and usually pulled back to be kept out of his eyes. His armor is heavy and cumbersome chain mail (which he hopes to replace someday) but he is grateful to have it. He carries a staff primarily but also wields a shield and mace (just in case he needs them).

Character Personality: Despite being a pacifist by nature, he will not stand by if he sees the innocent being attacked. The same goes for his family or friends. As a representative of the Elder Tree, he will defend nature and the creature's of the Fey with his last breath. Outside of that, Acorn is a very trusting fellow. He has grown up on an island of likeminded Fey. He's been warned that evil exists in the world and he's heard the stories of the times before the calamity. Although he doesn't want to see harm come to any living creature, he couldn't just stand by if anything ever were to happen to his home. That's what drove to him a life of service.
  • Traits: I watch over my friends as if they were a litter of newborn pups.
  • Ideal: Nature. The natural world is more important than all the constructs of civilization.
  • Bond: An injury to the unspoiled wilderness of my home is an injury to me.
  • Flaw: I am far too trusting. I want to see the best in everyone.

Backstory: The only deity that Warryn had ever known was The Elder Tree. He had heard legends of deities that existed long ago. Apparently, they took the form of sentient creatures. Many of these legends suggest that the greed and pride of those deities almost destroyed the world. The few good ones among them gave life to the Elder Tree. In return, the tree had become the source of life for his people and for all life on their island. All who respected nature were loved equally by the tree. However, a select few were chosen to be Protectors. These Protectors were granted additional power by the tree, so long as they continued to be loyal and serve. Warryn did not grow up believing that he would ever be a Protector. Instead, he grew up enjoying life to it's fullest. He lived in the woods among his people, fellow fey, and the animals of the wilds (in perfect harmony).

However, as the little brownie matured, he started to develop natural instincts to protect those that could not defend themselves. In order for us to enjoy this gift, someone must be willing to guard it. Someone who truly loves it and is willing to risk themselves to protect it from harm... Shortly thereafter, he began training with the warriors of the community. He learned how to wield weapons from the smallest to the largest variety, how to move in armor, and how to protect himself with a shield. His parents saw this and approached him. "If you truly wish to be a Protector than go and pray at the base of the elder tree in the early hours of dawn. If it sees fit, you will be rewarded with gifts that will aid you. If the Elder Tree blesses you, then you will be responsible for protecting not only your friends and family but the Island as a whole. Remember, you don't have to do this! We have warriors." After pondering his parent's words he finally replied. "I understand but something inside of me tells me that we will need more than just warriors. The Elder Tree deserves more..."

Warryn approached the tree and began praying for its blessing. Suddenly, a warm feeling came over the brownie. As he opened his eyes, he saw that his walking staff had begun to Shileleigh Cantripglow with a dim green light. When he looked up, he saw the fabled "Protectors," a group of adventurers chosen by the Elder Tree to aide the good and decent folk of Wylde Wood and to protect the land. Since that day, Warryn has been working with them to master not only his fighting skills but also to foster his connection with the Elder Tree in order to nurture his newfound gifts.

 


 

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You call it paranoia, I call it situational awareness
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Last edited by Treble83; Dec 12th, 2019 at 09:58 PM.
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Old Dec 10th, 2019, 08:29 PM
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Mouselock
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Name: Kiana Brightstar
Age: 6
Race: Jerbeen
Class: Warlock (the Archfey)
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Background: Acolyte

Traits:
- The spirits of the ancient fae are always whispering through the Elder Tree, there just aren't many of us who can hear them.
- I would rather talk my way out a situation than fight. Fortunately I'm a good talker.
Ideal:
- Life is too short to be bored, I like to have fun! Nobody tells me what to do. Well, except the tree.
Bond:
- The ancient fae spirits and the Elder Tree chose me to be a vessel for their power, that's the one responsibility I take seriously.
Flaw:
- Fun and pretty things tend to get my attention. I try to focus but sometimes it's OOH shiny!

 

 

 

 


Last edited by PalladiaMors; Dec 13th, 2019 at 01:58 AM.
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Old Dec 11th, 2019, 06:52 AM
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Walter
right-aligned image


Walter Willowthorne


Age: 22

Race: Hedge

Class: Wild Magic Sorcerer

Alignment: Neutral Good

Background: Anthropologist/ Outlander

AppearanceDeep laugh lines crease the soft leathery skin of Walter’s face. His eyes sparkle with a brightness that always seems to be on the edge of revealing a private joke. A long cloak of supple burgundy cloth, tied loosely around his shoulders, is filled with pockets to accommodate all of the bright and interesting objects that he collects on his travels. A worn satchel of woven bark is slung across his chest, keeping his precious traveling journal, ink pots, and pens close at hand.


PersonalityNo matter what creature he is with, and where in the Wylde Wood he may be, Walter always has a knack for putting others at ease. He loves to learn about the other inhabitants of his land and is always quick with a question, though he may become distracted while listening to the answer. Continually attentive to the world around him, Walter will often have his nose buried deep in the pages of his battered leather journal, taking copious notes on the fascinating interactions that he sees being played out before him.


Background
 


The story of Walter
 


A day in the life
 




CHARACTER SHEET: http://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=83021

Last edited by RJonesy; Jul 23rd, 2020 at 08:54 PM.
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Old Jul 20th, 2020, 05:01 PM
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Lienda
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right-aligned image

Name: Lienda
Age: 26
Race: Red-Feather Raptor
Class: Rogue/Assassin
Alignment: NG
Background: Urban Bounty Hunter

Character Appearance: Lienda is tall for her kind, especially being female, standing nearly a full two feet tall. She is also slight of frame, weighing 15 pounds. Her plumage is dark; her body mostly black with the occasional row of golden yellow feathers, her head ruddy brown, and her wing and tail feathers deep mahogany. As a matter of pride and professionalism, she maintains a dignified appearance both on and off the job. For the latter, she wears dark brown leather armor and carries a rapier, dagger, and short bow. Her forehead is always adorned with a semi-precious stone set in gold and bound by a leather thong headband. The stone varies in color, depending on her feelings about the bounty she earned to purchase it. Currently, it is a lapis. She is careful to carry herself well and rather fastidious, as quick to spot a misplaced feather as a quarry, and equally on guard against both. Even more so, she guards the key tattoo on the pad of her right forefinger from view at all times.

Character Personality: Lienda is cautiously outgoing and slow to trust, but recognizes the value of true companions and holds them very dear, especially elders who she can come to respect. She takes great pride in her work and is a bastion of professionalism among her typically unscrupulous peers. On the job, her focus is nearly unshakable, the task at hand sometimes consuming her to the fault of impatience with her comrades. Still, she values downtime as a welcome break from such intensity and an opportunity to prove that she isn't a complete hard-tail.

Two Traits: Lienda abhors criminal behavior, almost as a personal affront to her dignity, which she values above anything else.
One Ideal: Innocense; someone must protect it from those who would take it too soon.
One Bond: Vindication for a past she feels she didn't deserve, and vengeance upon those whom she blames for it.
One Flaw: Lienda is regularly required to deal with the very elements she fears will one day catch up with her.

Backstory: Lienda had been raised to believe it was all her fault. Her alcoholic father blamed her for the death of her mother, who died during her laying. He blamed her for his subsequent fall from riches and high society into destitution when he turned to drink to ease his grief. He blamed her when he would run out of liquor because she hadn't peddled enough that day for him to buy more. It was one of those days when she last saw him. He had thrown her back onto the street that night, along with her little tin cup, demanding she not return until she had enough for another bottle.

The streets were no place for a fledgling girl at night though; she had seen what could become of them when caught near the wrong alley on any given night. In her desperation to accomplish her goal quickly and get off the dangerous, darkening streets she took to the standby of cutting purses. The first victim she chose was not what he seemed. As his purse fell away she found herself caught in his clutches, the mark on his finger identifying him as a member of a powerful thieves guild.

To be caught by a noble often garnered sympathy at her age, a merchant might give a good scolding, and a commoner a good beating. The worst was to be nabbed by the city guard and put in the poorhouse for a night and spend it at the mercy of her peers. But the thieves guild played no such games with pity or subtlety. To be caught by them was to lose a finger; the same finger they used to identify themselves with the key tattoo, just like the one on the finger that held her fast that night.

Much to her surprise though, this thief allowed her to keep her finger in exchange for service in the guild. Turns out her attempt at robbing this particular thief, Ramad, was exceptional, and he took her on as his apprentice. Unfortunately, his service in the guild was cut short by a job gone awry from which he never returned. She remained in the guild's service for years afterward as a housemaid and runner, and though she had shown some promise under Ramads tutelage, no other members would take her on as their apprentice.

As she matured she began to be noticed for more than her purse-cutting skills, and though her status in the guild protected her from the interests of the members, those in power took notice nonetheless. On her 10th anniversary in the guild's service, she was promised a new opportunity for full membership. Since her days under Ramad, she had wanted nothing more. It seemed her greatest dream was coming true. But it was nothing but a lie. At the supposed location of the big revelation of how she was to earn her membership, she overheard the leaders of the guild closing the deal on her sale as a prostitute.

Her dream crushed, her trust in the only family she had known for 10 years shattered, she fled. Having been in a dressing room of a questionable inn when she heard the news, she donned an outfit befitting her would-be profession and escaped the city, never to look back.

She became a vagrant, living on scraps out of garbage piles and peddling like she had done for her horrid father, wallowing in filth and shame. Her surprise and relief were complete when none other than her old mentor, Ramad, again came to her rescue. He found her in her destitution, so low she was near to taking on the despicable role she had fled from being sold into. It turned out he too had been betrayed by the guild, and they still thought him dead at their own hands. He had however become quite the vigilante crime fighter, bent on rectifying his wrongs and avenging his honor on those he blamed for corrupting it. He took her under his wing once again. Leinda again readily took her place in his care and instruction and adopted his mission as her own. She too would become an agent of justice, and would not be satisfied until she had avenged her honor on those who had held it in such contempt.

RP Sample: Lienda sat bent over her workbench, her face set in deep concentration as she finished engraving the name of her latest catch on the small gold piece. It would be the setting for the new lapis stone she had bought with the bounty, now lying nearby.

That will go well with your eyes, Ramad commented from over her shoulder.

That's the idea, she replied as she finished, arching the kink out of her back and picking the piece up to evaluate her work.

And those? Ramad asked, pointing to two finished pieces. One was onyx, the other ruby, already set and fastened to leather thongs that she would tie behind her head...Someday. Are they to go with your heart?

Lienda was used to such probing from her mentor, but being so focused on her work had left her a bit unguarded. Her head turned in his direction, eyes downcast. You know what they're for...but I suppose they do match the shades of my heart that compliment their purpose.

Ramad nodded contemplatively; sagely. So be it. He picked up the lapis, turning it in his fingers to catch the light on its flat cut surfaces. All have such shades, and yours have come to serve you well. He set the stone down where it was and rested his hand on her shoulder. You are ready.

She set down the setting and turned towards him, head cocked inquisitively.

The Queen's summonsThis is for you. He handed her a royal dispatch, and a response written in his hand. Taking them with much curiosity and a little trepidation, she read them both.

After a moment, Lienda set her hands and the letters on her knees and looked up at Ramad, her head cocking into the equivalent of an uncertain smirk. "Ready." By the Tree, I hope so.

Ramad clucked lightly at her somewhat pitiful expression, which he found adorable. You are, he chuckled, And besides, I have nothing left to teach you. You have your goals, he continued, gesturing to the two completed headbands, and are capable of achieving them, with honor. Sobering, he knelt beside her to come to eye level. She was near tears, but her smirk was melting into a grateful smile. You cannot exercise the demons of these shades here. My finding you, tutoring you was but the correction of your course. Now you must set upon it.

She threw her arms around his neck and let the tears flow, soaking his shoulder with gratitude and love. When her sobs subsided, she let go and wiped her face with a rag from her bench. I owe you so much, she croaked out as she opened a drawer beneath it and lifted out it's false bottom. Inside was a gold ring, with a flattened face engraved with an elaborate V beneath an L. And I know you're not very sentimental, but... She retrieved the ring and presented it to Ramad. I've been saving this for today. Please keep it and know how grateful I am...and that I'll honor you wherever I go.

Ramad took the ring without words or expression, put it on and admired the perfect fit and beautiful engraving for a long moment. I am honored, Lienda. Of course, I shall treasure it. He cupped her face with his hand, taking one last good look into her eyes. You are my treasure, he whispered, coming closer to showing his emotions for her than she had ever seen.

Before anything else could be said, he rose and walked to the door. Turning before walking out, he parted with a very fond Goodbye.

Character Sheet

Last edited by Baxder; Aug 3rd, 2020 at 11:05 PM.
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Old Jul 20th, 2020, 05:10 PM
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Name: Grimroot
Age: 42
Race: Leshy
Class: Druid (Circle of Spores)
Alignment: Neutral

Character Appearance: is 2'11" tall and weighs 38 pounds. His coloration varies over his body some areas a dark green others lighter and brighter, his head is primarily more a dark grey. AS common for his kind he looks like a large mushroom upon first seeing him.

Character Personality: Grimroot is not a very outgoing individual, he tends to prefer his own company over that of others. Unlike most humblefolk he is fascinated by the circle of life and decay. He is a firm believer that each phase of life leads to the next and the eventual return to the earth to be born again. He does not share the revulsion of the majority upon seeing undeath so long as it is part of the overall process. However undead that have intent of circumventing the cycle are abominations in need of being destroyed. While not very social he is respectful towards others.

He has no problem being left to his own machinations, and has no true need for the company of others. When he does make a friend though he is always a generous and kind host or ally. He tends to be more soft spoken than most and only speaks when he feels it is a necessity. This leads others to believe him anti-social.

Background: Hermit
Traits: I've been isolated for so long that I rarely speak, preferring gestures and the occasional grunt. I'm oblivious to etiquette and social expectations.
Ideal: Free Thinking. Inquiry and curiosity are the pillars of progress.
Bond: I'm still seeking the enlightenment I pursued in my seclusion, and it still eludes me.
Flaw: I am dogmatic in my thoughts and philosophy.

Backstory: Grimroot has always been one of the strangest of the creatures who live within the Wylde Wood. Many considering him less than a simple mushroom. Grimroot knows though that he has life for a reason and he intends to prove it. He knows that his purpose in life is to study and learn all he can about the circle of life. All beings are meant to be born, live lives until they die and then decay and return from whence they came only to be born again in another form. All beings live by these same rules no matter the race age affects all in some way shape or form.

Grimroot realized early that if he wished to pursue his goals he would have to seek out seclusion, as such he sequestered himself away from most who lived in Wylde Wood, to continue his studies. His isolation left him free to pursue his investigation into the process of life and decay. He was always fascinated by the circle of life. He has found that the study of fungus and molds, can be applied to the creation of abundant of strange but fascinating types of life. His small home in the middle of a dying tree, serving his purposes perfectly. The withering of certain aspects of the tree lending to his studies. Grimroot was named such due to his constant serious nature when he was among the people of the Wylde wood.

Truth be told Grimroot was thoroughly surprised when he received a summons by Queen Lumina. Still the test of her summons to seek out and find lost scouts, and the darkness that was falling over their isle. Even in his isolation he has seen signs of the darkness and it had piqued his curiosity. He was eager to learn if this invading darkness was natural or unnatural. If it is not part of the natural cycle then it is his duty to investigate it's origin and if necessary stop it from taking hold. He is not thrilled about the need to work with others, but sees the value of having others along. It is after all the Queen's wish for them to work together as a team to solve the dilemma.

RP Sample: Grimroot continued climbing upward in the tree that he had made his home shortly after arriving in the isolated part of the wood that most considered haunted or evil. Grimroot on the other hand knew the truth it was simply a part of the forest that was in the final stages of it's life and approaching its rebirth. Climbing up quickly he stopped as he found what he sought a strange fungus growing from the dying upper branches of the tree. He had never found such fungus anywhere else and it fascinated him.

Collecting several samples with his deft fingers he placed them into his pouch. Satisfied he left the remaining fungus where they were he knew sooner than later he would require more and it was best to allow them to grow freely. Climbing back down he entered his small home and moved to the vials and containers on his small work bench. Pulling out the fungus and setting it down he began to mix some with fresh water, planting another in a small pot of soil, and then yet another on a piece of bark which had fallen from the very tree he lived inside of.

As he did so he wrote down his detailed notes, documenting every stage and step of his process. Satisfied with his work, he stepped back looking at the fungus of course it would take time to fully understand the fungus and how it best thrived, smiling he moved back over to the single chair inside his home and sat down reading his previous notes and making adjustments as needed.


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  #10  
Old Jul 20th, 2020, 05:16 PM
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Name: Akemah <--- Character Sheet

Age: 15

Race: Vulpin

Class: Rogue

Alignment: CN

Background: Charlatan

Character Appearance: Akemah stands three inches under 4' tall, and has the look and build of a typically healthy Vulpin. She wears simple leather armor and is adorned with no less than 4 blades. A Rapier is sheathed on her hip, a shortsword is sheathed and strapped to her pack, and two daggers are sheathed and lashed to the colorful green sash at her waist.

Character Personality: Akemah is downright lovable, or at least that's how she comes across when you first meet her. She's been called terminally pretty, and despite her razor sharp teeth she has a disarming smile. She is very articulate when speaking, seems to know a bit about everything, especially documents and such.
In truth, she's always on the look out for easy coin, and sometimes for coin the hard way if it is exciting enough.
  • TRAITS - I keep multiple holy symbols on me and invoke whatever deity might come in useful at any given moment.
    I have a joke for every occasion, especially occasions where humor is inappropriate.
  • IDEAL - I am a free spirit— no one tells me what to do.
  • BOND - I owe everything to my mentor—a horrible person who’s probably rotting in jail somewhere.
  • FLAW - I'm always in debt. I spend my ill-gotten gains on decadent luxuries faster than I bring them in.

Backstory: Akemah has been bouncing around from town to city to village and anywhere there's a group of people who can be separated from their coin by any means necessary are friendly. Somehow finding herself broke again, she sees the opportunity to grab countless coin help out others and herself a little with the open invitation to steal adventure and get paid for it.

RP Sample: "I've got five on it!", she calls out from her place sleeping outside a dear friend's tent - but that's another story for another time.
From the campfire, someone comments that she doesn't have five coins to put in on the collection to go to town and buy some provisions for the group of vagabonds living outside the town.
She jumps up and goes to the fire, knowing now she will be welcome as long as she can keep the talk moving.
"Who said anything about coin? I meant I have five deft fingers to add to the provision gathering. I'll also add my charm and wit to any bartering done and I can guarantee that alone will save the group's purse more than 5 coins.
Wait, wait!"
, she said, holding up a clawed finger at the two "friends" who were about to interrupt and say it was a bad idea.

"Some might think I have an angle here, and wish to use this opportunity for my own gain. Now, that hurts. Really. Didn't I get us that nice tent that I'm not allowed to sleep in?"
She pointed to the tent that had clear markings of the Duke of Forsham, meaning it would be ill advised to show it in any civilized area, but she didn't dwell on that.
"Did I not get us that letter of Marque from that Duke that will gain us favor in oh so many places? There are other things I have done for this group that are too many in number too mention, so all I ask is to accompany whoever is going and add my skills to any deals made and then simply share of tonight's meal and the one in the morning. Then, I'll be on my way. What harm can there be in that?" They hadn't used the letter yet, so they didn't know it was a forgery. If they did in town, she'd have to think quick. Some might consider slipping away once she hit town with the group gathering provisions, but where was the fun in that?

Nods in the affirmative responded all around to her comments, though some nodding were frowning with reluctance.
A group of two were chosen to go, and they gathered their gear. Strapping on her own gear she went to the young male Raptor who wasn't the one carrying the coin purse and put on all her charm and persuasion, even casting a spell of charm on him when she was sure none of the others could see her.
She placed a soft hand on his shoulder and said, 'You know, it's all the same to me, but do you trust Kitfin there to carry the coin purse? You should keep an eye on him just to be safe. Best thing for everyone."
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Last edited by Drachenspirit; Jul 20th, 2020 at 05:18 PM.
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