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Old Nov 30th, 2020, 08:37 AM
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Insacrum Insacrum is offline
Great Wyrm
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Please post your original app here. In addition, please include a link to your character sheet, and a character stat block.

Character Recap Table
PlayerCharacterRaceClassHPACSaves (SDCIWCh)PerceptionStab/Death
hafrogmanBaruuk TalonfaceBugbearRanger 220/20164/4/1/0/2/-116ooooo
PseudonymousGristleKoboldBard 215/15141/5/1/-1/1/411ooooo
StrangemundHarp StrumKenkuRogue 214/14130/4/1/3/2/214ooooo
Reliq0770Daggonae "Dagg" BloodbaneBugbearMonk 216/16153/5/1/0/2/012ooooo
jbearAn'malBugbearBarbarian 1/Bard 119/13135/2/3/-1/1/211ooooo
QuarterpoundXolotlLizardfolkDruid 218/18171/2/2/2/5/015ooooo

HP Key:
  • 100%
  • 99% - 67%
  • 66% - 34%
  • 33% - 1%
  • 0%

Experiance - Total: 300 - Level: 2


Chapter 2:

Pinkskin Ambush
15.6 GP total - 10 GP, 50 SP, 50 CP

1x Moonstone (translucent white with pale blue glow)
1x Malachite (opaque striated light and dark green)
1x Eye agate (translucent circles of gray, white brown, blue, or green)
1x Gold locket with a painted portrait inside

Ten foot Pole
Spiked Armor - It's starting to smoke once worn.
Other Miscellaneous Gear

Last edited by Insacrum; Jul 22nd, 2022 at 04:04 PM.
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Old Nov 30th, 2020, 12:26 PM
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Grozug Grozug is offline
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Name: Ayaga tor-Zhan
Race: Orc
Class: Barbarian (Ancestral Guardian)
Alignment: Lawful Good
Mechanical Background: Outlander (Hunter-Gatherer)


Appearance: Ayaga is not a very unique or visually striking orc, all things considered. He possesses all the physical hallmarks of his species- greenish skin, pronounced lower canines like tusks, sloping brow, short nose, round facial features, and a generally thick build. His hair is straight, black, and shoulder-length. His body is covered in deep blue tattoos. Geometric patterns and totems or animal motifs predominate. His body is healthy and his face is somewhat youthful, but his pale grey eyes appear quite old, right down to the growing crow's feet. His voice sounds deeper than it actually is, because he often speaks with a slight croak or grunt, as if he never quite has the air to get his words out with.

Ayaga is also covered almost from head to toe in a vast array of bones. Most of them are quite tiny, such as finger or toe bones threaded together like beads in his hair and on his meager clothing, which consists of a hide vest and a waistcloth. Other mortal mementos include tusks hanging from a necklace, a girdle of ribs around his waist, a bracelet of hyoids, and skin piercings made of ear ossicles. They total well over a hundred bones, and each one is a memento from another dead orc. They are clean, dry, white, and treated with a resin against degradation. Ayaga handles them and any articles made from them with the utmost reverence.

Personality: Ayaga is gentle. Ayaga is quiet. Ayaga is tired- very, very tired. Back home, he was used to a fairly orderly lifestyle structured around animistic practice and communal cooperation under the guidance of family chiefs and shamans. Being bereaved of that has strained him and turned him inward somewhat. While he has reservoirs of anger, they are deeply suppressed and kept below the surface. He is more likely to try and stay peacefully unobtrusive in his dealings with the world and the people in it. At least part of this is defensive, for the bedrock of trust he once relied upon is gone, and he is left apprehensive around so many strange people in strange lands. It is as if he already considers himself a ghost prepared to move onward, tied down to earthly concerns only by the weight of death still resting upon his shoulders.

He believes with all his heart that the mementos he bears hold the souls of their owners. For centuries his people interred 'vessels' of their dead in hollows and shrines, but most of these were lost in the chaos of their exile, the souls of the dead scattered to the winds just as their living descendants are. Ayaga has informally taken on the role of shaman, though he entirely lacks any and all supernatural talent (so far). He cares for each memento like a pet, speaks to them, and even 'feeds' them a symbolically sacrificed portion of his every meal. His belief in this holdover from the old days has grown only more fervent the more the present has pressed him. The dead have to reside in these bones, he insists, or else the living have no hope for the future.

7 Step Background
I am The Furtive Goblin. I fill my blog with fantasy world-building ideas, and the occasional lo-fi anxiety attack. I also have a Ko-fi. Buy a cup, give me a writing prompt, receive a post or two!

Last edited by Grozug; Nov 30th, 2020 at 11:17 PM. Reason: Added in a piece of art by a friend because apparently that's a thing now!
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Old Nov 30th, 2020, 12:53 PM
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hafrogman hafrogman is online now
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Baruuk Talonface
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Name: Baruuk Talonface
Race: Bugbear
Class: Ranger
Alignment: Neutral
Mechanical Background: SCAG pg.150Inheritor

Appearance: Still broad and bulky standing next to most races, Baruuk is lanky for a bugbear. He's spare of frame with skin drawn tight over bone and corded sinew. By far his most notable feature is his face, crisscrossed with a network of old scars, mangled by claws years gone by now. A russet brown mane cascades from his head, eventually blending into his fur further down. It has grown out the most on the sides where he wears it tied off into rough warrior braids. The fringe continues around, outlining his face and jaw, finishing in a short cropped goatee. He dresses himself plainly, in a utilitarian fashion. His arms and armor are mismatched and heavily used as if scavenged from some forgotten battlefield.

Personality: At turns ashamed of his own failures and shortcomings and intensely proud of his heritage and past, Baruuk is quite conflicted at times. He may come across as a little abrasive at first, but he is in fact fiercely loyal and protective of those he considers his 'new' clan. He is surprisingly quick to forgive slights against him... the first time. Woe betide those who make the same mistake twice, or appear to be unwilling to take action to correct their behavior. At time prone to fits of melancholic nostalgia, he tries to push those feelings away and focus on constructive movement forward. He finds that the longer he spends among Yddraixl's tribe, the more the colorful variety of people draw him out of his shell. He has taken a particular liking to several of the smaller races, taking delight in their curiosity and boundless enthusiasm. At first, he avoided many of the larger and stronger inhabitants, but more recently he has begun to consider himself their equal.




Status: Holidays ate me alive. Trying to catch up. I'm sorry.
Baruuk TalonfaceKonstantin LumynBarnabus the Unfamiliar
Hannah VolkanStarevna

Last edited by hafrogman; Jul 21st, 2021 at 01:40 PM.
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Old Nov 30th, 2020, 01:16 PM
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Pseudonymous Pseudonymous is offline
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Gristle Name: Gristle
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Race: Kobold
Class: Bard
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Mechanical Background: Hermit

Appearance: Vacant, glassy eyes that look too big for his skull, which an onlooker might swear are looking in two slightly different directions at any given time. Perhaps a result of his subterranean upbringing, but more likely a serious byproduct of inbreeding. He is birdlike in stature and in his movements, spindly-limbed and wiry. His scales are mottled red and copper.

Personality: If you took a golden retriever, dropped its IQ by a few points, and gave it opposable thumbs, you'd have Gristle. He has no idea what's going on, but he's ecstatic to be included in it, whatever it is. He throws himself wholeheartedly into whatever task is asked of him-- There's no need to be smart as long as you just try hard enough. Or, barring that, if you can just stab something good enough. Joining this new clan is going to be great-- He just knows it. Yddraixl is very big and strong and smart, and the other people are very big and strong and smart, and being among big, strong, smart people is a great idea when you are small and have bones that snap real easy. Gristle is used to following a pack of other kobolds, and now that they're not around anymore, he's honestly just happy to not be alone.

7 Step Background








Last edited by Pseudonymous; Nov 30th, 2020 at 07:33 PM.
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Old Nov 30th, 2020, 01:26 PM
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Strangemund Strangemund is online now
Your Local Cryptid
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Harp Strum
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Name: Harp Strum
Race: Kenku
Class: Rogue
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Mechanical Background: Entertainer

Appearance: Feathers black as a silhouette cast at the end of an empty alleyway cover Harp Strum from head to toe. Some are tattered, sliced and torn by everything from a well-honed blade to a snarling beast's fangs, while a couple on her right arm are burnt down to the nub where you can see her mottled grey flesh, scarred by a close-call with a Burning Hands spell. Of the feathers she managed to keep in good health, they have reached full maturity, with the exception of a few tufts of down feathers that peek in and out from the plumage on her chest. Her baby feathers are the only glimmer of youthful innocence still left in the scarred and beaten Kenku lass beyond her bright and optimistic eyes.

She stands a few inches over five feet, Harp Strum fairly tall for her feathered kin as well as woefully thin. Despite how squat most Kenku are, Harp Strum is incredibly lanky, with limbs that are long and gangly, and a frame that is surprisingly lithe for a Kenku of her height. It makes her quick on her feet and twice as likely to get away from trouble, but any medicine man would know it is far from healthy. Years of malnourishment and neglect has made a mockery of the potential she could have reached had she had been given the same opportunities as the pink men that dot the land. Not that Harp Strum thinks as such. She considers herself lucky; after all, she’s never met a Kenku thief that’s lasted longer than eighteen years like her.

Harp Strum rarely wears anything but a heavy layer of clothes over herself. Tunics, vests, and wraps-- whatever she managed to snatch away from unguarded clotheslines-- were thrown over herself until very little of her Kenku traits are seen. Harp Strum preferring garbs that were dark in color like her feathers. Grey, blacks, and if she was lucky, blues. Those were her favorite as they reminded her of the brief time she was a stowaway on a boat. The sea rocking her to sleep while the night sky sparkled like a sapphire drifting at the bottom of a pond. On her back, she carries a banged up, Or rather fifth-hand.second-hand harp. It's seen better days. Its body scuffed up with scratches and its strings discolored, some newer than others. Harp Strum loves it dearly and is never seen without it. The Kenku often spotted trying to find a way to make the same pleasant notes she mimics so easily on its strings.

But the most notable feature of Harp Strum is her beak. Halfway down her upper bill is a fierce and nasty crack where an adventurer's hammer came crashing down. A permanent fixture, just like most of her injuries, as Harp Strum never had access to anything as wondrous as magical healing. Sometimes when she feels like grossing people out, she’ll stick the tip of her tongue through it.

Personality: Harp Strum is a Kenku of pleasant temperament in that she doesn’t think to immediately rob people, mostly she just waits to see if you are mean first. Pleasantries mean everything to Harp Strum, from hellos to goodbye to your welcomes, as she likes how it makes her feel to talk like the fancy bards she’s spied on through tavern windows. Like she’s someone important and beautiful rather than your everyday Kenku thief that looked like a broken down feather duster. Play along with her peculiar vernacular and you’ll have a best friend for life. Don’t, and you’ll be mugged, but politely, as Harp Strum will happily ask you for your money with a bubbly ‘please’ before she sticks you with her ruby-handled dagger.

Harp Strum’s lived a fairly harsh life even by Kenku thief standards, but it’s hardly stopped her from being a beacon of positivity. Her motto for down-and-out days where she’s barely scraping by is a simple idea that a few copper coins in the hand today could lead to a fat purse of gold coins tomorrow. There is no point to stew on what can’t be helped when opportunity is always just around the corner, waiting to be shaken down. And so far that’s been a belief that’s worked out swimmingly for Harp Strum, especially when she heard the tale of Yddraixl the Viridescent. At the time, Harp Strum was homeless, friendless, and goalless, but in an instant, two-out-of-three of those worries vanished in a puff of smoke. With results like that, it is clear that the key to success is blind determination and the audacity to defy life when it tries to kick you down-- not luck as so many would be quick to suggest.

On a personal level, Harp Strum is very easy-going and uncomfortably friendly, almost desperate for approval. She likes to fill silence with idle chatter and music, or on rare occasions, entertain with a Like orc snores, hobgoblin farts, and drunken Woppa swears.hilarious assortment of noises she knows how to mimic. She is a little intimidated by the larger and fiercer races that make up Yddraixl’s nest, but Harp Strum isn’t against the idea of living and working with any of them. She just hopes she can measure up to their particular standards, and them to hers. Granted, her standards are fairly low. All Harp Strum is really interested in is someone who she can call a friend, but in the Age of Pink Men, friends are hard to come by, and harder to keep, you know, alive. But still she is willing to try, no matter how many bodies the pink men will make her bury!

That said Harp Strum does struggle with forgiveness. Maybe it is just a natural Kenku instinct but Harp Strum doesn’t believe that forgiveness should be freely given, but earned through cold hard punishment. Punishment that she’ll happily deal out in a day, a week, a month, or a year from now-- whenever the time is right to make you regret ever slighting her and her chosen flock. They say a Loxodon never forgets, but it is the Kenku that never forgives.


Harp Strum
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Harp Strum
Character Sheet





Post Goes Here!

Status: Slow Posting| Pronouns: She/Her
GMing Die Fabulous
Characters: Thunder in the Morning - Harp Strum - Captain Tavosh - Kazimir - Krow Munday - Vinter Kheen

Last edited by Strangemund; Aug 6th, 2021 at 12:35 AM.
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Old Nov 30th, 2020, 01:55 PM
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Reliq0770 Reliq0770 is offline
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Daggonae "Dagg" Bloodbane: Application Complete
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Name: Daggonae "Dagg" Bloodbane

Race: Volo's Guide to Monsters - Pg. 119Bugbear, Female

Class: My Plan is to go Kensei Monk and, possibly, multiclass into either Fighter or Rogue down the line. Astral Monk, then Psi Warrior, and Beast Barbarian (if allowed of course).Monk

Alignment: Neutral

Mechanical Background: PHB Pg. 131 - 132Folk Hero

Appearance: Light Brownish-Red Fur covers brown skin.

At first glance, many people mistake her for an orc... But, the elongated arms and reddish mane of fur framing her face are a dead giveaway!

She is short for a Bugbear, standing at 5' 8" tall, but her wide shoulders and stocky frame more than make up for whatever underestimations levied against her.

She gives off serious Viking vibes with how she dresses, acts, and carries herself.
Daggonae has always stood out among her kind. The Bugbears prized brutality and strength, but Daggonae took things a step further. She employed cunning and tactics to her strategy for success. The sides of her head are shaved and the remaining mane of hair was either wild and unkempt or meticulously braided. Her eyes are a golden brown and her musculature is a testament to a lifetime having to prove herself to be stronger, faster, and smarter than her male counterparts. Standing at 5' 8" tall, she is shorter than most of her kin, but still commands respect among those that know her reputation.

Personality: Daggonae prides herself on Action, not words. Given her upbringing, she has come to the conclusion that you can learn the truth about an individual based on their actions alone. Therefore, she watches... She observes... This, oftentimes, leads her to travel to places that she shouldn't. But, if it means learning a shred of truth, or maybe a key piece of information that she can use to her advantage, she feels it's worth the risk. However, for all her schemes and calculations, she realizes that mind-games alone will only get you so far. Eventually, you have to act. It takes a lot of work to out-think and out-perform your opponents... And, unfortunately for her, Daggonae has a lot of opponents to play against. However, As she calls it'Playing the Game' has afforded her several traits that prove quite useful in navigating everyday life. She is slow to anger and thinks logically about her problems. She doesn't, often, act on impulse and can remain focused on a single task for an extraordinary amount of time.

7 Step Background
Step 1: Write 5 background and concept elements that you feel are important to your image of the character. One of these should include where they are from.

Step 2: List 2 goals; one should be your character's goal. The other should be a goal you have FOR your character. Survival shouldn't be it.

Step 3: List 2 secrets. One your character knows, one they do not.

Step 4: Describe 3 people that are tied to the character. Two should be friendly. One should be hostile.

Step 5: Describe 3 memories, mannerisms, or quirks that your character has.

Step 6: List your character's personality trait, bond, ideal, and flaw.

Step 7: List 2 things that make your character afraid and 2 things that give them hope.

Optional: Give me a sentence or two about the other applicants. How does your character feel about those characters? NOT how do you feel about another player!

Daggonae 'Dagg' Bloodbane
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Character Sheet





Post Goes Here!

"Without Commitment, you'll never start;
But, without Consistency, you'll never finish!"

Last edited by Reliq0770; Dec 18th, 2020 at 02:22 AM.
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Old Dec 2nd, 2020, 05:23 PM
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jbear jbear is offline
Friendly Ratbasterd GM
Outplay 2018  

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Hall of Fame GM 2021
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Character Application
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Name: An'mal
Race: Bugbear
Class: Barbarian
Alignment: Unaligned
Background: Entertainer
Appearance: Hair carefully combed, oiled and scented like his perfectly trimmed beard. Teeth freshly brushed, perfectly white, perfectly sharp and breath fresh from morning chewed mint. Eyes are soft and warm pools of deep oranges, browns and reds. Standing at nearly 8 feet tall, An'mal's body is trim and lithe from regular exercise. No tub on this bod. Lovingly made leather thongs surround his neck with polished teeth of some of the more interesting things An'mal has eaten. Immaculately dyed leather straps surround An'mal's wrist's nearly all the way up his muscular forearms. The bright blend of colours matches the painted leather sarong around his waist that modestly hides his privates (No need to show off). The red hair on his legs has been dyed blonde at the feet and darkened around his powerful calves so as to look like hairy flames wreathing his stride. This colour scheme matches the red tufts that grow down his back between his magnificent broad shoulders. An'mal is both simple and spectacular in the same breath. Nothing about his look is accidental. He's a rock star.
Personality: An'mal is the definition of chill. Nothing is a problem. 'She'll be right, mate' are words this bugbear lives by. There's a time to sleep (and godforbid anyone dare to disturb An'mal when it is time to sleep) and there's a time to shine. Life is a ballad and An'mal wants to learn all the lyrics and beat the crap out of it to some mad beats on what he calls his drum kit. If one isn't sleeping, then one should be adding to the life's music, making the world a cooler place to be, laughing with friends and family, eating deliciously made nutritional meals from the remains of the slain, singing and playing songs that demand you move to them, retelling epic stories that would make Hrughek and Ghrunkel proud, and looking good while doing it! An'mal loves sleeping and An'mal loves life! He sinks his teeth into both with a smile, though sometimes there is a sadness hidden beneath that smile which An'mal keeps to himself. And beneath that sadness there is a deep and violent rage that pray you never see ... but if you should, pray it is not directed towards you.

BackgroundKey Concept 1: An'mal comes from a loving family who fought to make a new life for themselves.An'mal was born to loving parents, Grohl and Jan Jhalpn, who wanted something different for their cubs. Tired of the relentless persecution of the Stubbards and Felfs that pushed their warband far from fertile pastures ripe with food where a bugbear could slay, feast and fork in the warm sunshine and snooze in the cool shade and restless beneath the rigid order of the hobgoblins who kept them camped in wetland ruins as they sought to rebuild a fragmented horde rife with infighting, Grohl and Jan gathered a few like minded individuals and fled to carve out a better place for themselves in a harsh world. Their gang ventured back to the edge of civilisation and made a home for themselves in a charming hamlet, previously know as Key Concept 2: An'mal's home was halfling hamlet in the hills on the edge of civilisation, redesigned by a clever hobgoblin and renamed GrahlstownHobbstone, where some very plump and tasty rodents had carved holes into the hills. The rodent homes proved far too small for the likes of Grohl and Jan's gang, but it wasn't long before they made Hobbstone a home, caving in the hillside rooves and building crude but sturdy structures over the top. Hobbstone was renamed Grahlstown. It was quiet. Food walked around in the fields nearby. The gardens were plentiful. The acoustics were great.

From the damp discomfort of rigid laws beneath the cruel iron hand of the warband, the Grahlstown Gang flourished in the sun. Key concept 3: An'mal's new life was built around music; everyone in the gang was part of making the music. It bound them together.This was a place a warband could just be a band. An'mal was only 11 winters old when he and his 3 siblings came to settle with his parents in Grahlstown. From shoddy sleep, bossy big mouths and constant conflict to days full of laughter and song, An'mal embraced his parent's vision of the world and threw himself into the music that the band made together. Jan just wanted to sing. Grohl loved nothing more than to beat out wild rhythm's for her on anything that would make noise. And they were not alone, Slaish, the rebellious hobgoblin who cared nothing for his kind's penchant for law and order, the prodigious mind behind the renovation of the Hobblet structures, was a talented hand with the lute, enhancing the sound with thrashing conjurations of his magical cantrips. Between Slaish's genius and the tinkering talent of the gang's one eyed goblin tracker, Raecharl, Grahlstown's auditorium was equipped with the most wonderful sound makers. And there was no distinction between adult and child in Grahlstown when it came to making music. Everyone played or sang or something that added to the music. An'mal's elder sisters (and identical twins), W'ggl and Shagg, crooned sweet racey harmonies to their mothers melodies. H'ndrek, his older brother would slam on the tinkling ivories built by Raecharl, an instrument the goblin fondly named the Kees. Key concept 4: An'mal learned the drums like his father. He played a goblin built drumkit made from different sized and sounding drums constructed from gruesome materials (skulls and the skin of the slain etc) An'mal himself followed in his father footsteps, beating out rhythms with his father on the drum kit, another of musical of invention crafted by Raecharl's clever hand, bringing together many drums of different sounds within a short space of each other, some raised to different heights and made of differnt materials such as the hollowed skulls of the slain. For a time An'mal was carefree and happy.

It was when the hills began to tremble that would spell doom for the happy life in Grahlstown. The gang thought nothing of it at first. But the strength of the trembles grew and one of the Hobblet homes collapsed in on itself burying Raecharl's two new borns and his wife alive. The music became one of mourning but things only got worse when the trembles broke the surface and a platoon of armed Stubbards emerged. Key Concept 5: Dwarves mining the area wiped out his gang ruthlessly, refusing to negotiate. An'mal watched the murders but did nothing, fleeing instead to save his own life.The Stubbards, clearly responsible for the trembles wrecking their home, destroying their peace and killing their people, would hear nothing of the gang's complaints. The Stubbards had found a vein of rich ore that run right through Grahlstown. Their reply to demands they mine elsewhere or at least far far below the surface was with steel and blood in the dead of night. An'mal watched his parents murdered before him. To his deep shame, he did not lift a finger. In fact, An'mal's mind was possessed for a moment by the dreaded Skiggaret. While his family, his gang, fought for their lives, An'mal fled like a coward. He survived but his deep sadness and shame would give seed to a deep rage within the young bugbear.

He returned to bury his loved ones and then An'mal left Grahlstown, still touched by Skiggaret's cowardice and fearing the Stubbards would return to finish the job they had begun. He took his father's drumkit with him and the heavy staff his father used to beat the big drum and began to wander, skirting around the edges where the wild met the civilised. An'mal swore Skiggaret would never touch him again. He moved through the night like Grangkhul's shadow, swearing the next time he found a place where a warband could be a band, surrounded by those he loved, he would make Hruggek proud. He would gather the severed heads of his foes and make the most maginificent drumkit the world had ever seen and make sweet music from their empty skulls. Some years later An'mal found himself deep in the ruins of a forest fortress, trying to forge a new home where he could be part of a band once more.

Character GoalsGoal 1: Avenge his family's murder, make his god Hruggek proud of him again and forgive him for allowing Skiggaret to make him such a coward
Goal 2: to find a new gang, likeminded folk who love music, who want to form not just a warband ... but a band!

SecretsSshh ... secret squirrel!

Character ConnectionsConnection 1: Khu'pa: Elderly orc merchant that An'mal saved from a lynching by an angry mob of pitchfork weilding Ewwmans after he left Grahlstown.
Connection 2: Aleese: Half orc merhcant in her late forties that An'mal saved from nefarious acts while her husband was being lynched.

An'mal travelled for several years with Khu'pa and Aleese as their caravan guard and general helping hand. Khu'pa taught An'mal how to use his staff with skill not just for beating out rhythms. It was thanks to the couple that An'mal found Yddraixal. Aleese saw a business opportunity supplying the camp and so they sought it out. Khu'pa and Aleese are the closest thing An'mal has to family now.

Memories and MannerismsMemory: An'mal and his siblings alongside Slaish's son, Morrello, had grand dreams of one day striking out into the world as a travelling band. They planned to emerge from their parents shadows and lead the music themselves. W'ggl and Shagg would dress them all up with bright, magnificent colours and paints, styling their hair and clothes. They would go deep into the valley where the acoustics were even more amazing than the Auditorium and sing and play for the stones. The branded themselves the Stone Rollers. An'mal remembers the conversations they had where they swore their music would bring the horde to them and they would raise up a city where laughter and light were the laws and music was the city's soul. Even the Stubbards, Felfs and Ewwmans would bow before their magnificence and accept their place in the world in peace.

Mannerism: An'mal is very meticulous about his appearance. He loathes filth and squalor. No wonder the Stubbards and Felfs think the races of the wilds are savages. There is no excuse for uncleanliness. It's just laziness! And if one is going to perform and bring music to the world, then one should be as colourful as their music. If you are going to light the world, begin with yourself!

Quirk: Getting a proper 12 hours of sleep is not laziness! A properly rested body is better prepared to face the rigors of the day. Bugbears have reputations as lazy sods because they sleep 12 hours and then wake up to lay about til it's time to sleep again. That is not An'mal's way. He squeezes every drop of life out of the other 12 hours! Now ... wake him before he has gotten his full 12 hours of sleep and you'll quickly see why bugbears have such fearsome reputations (if your head is still on your shoulders after waking them up that is).

Traits and BondsTrait 1: No matter how bad the situation gets I project a carefree 'she'll be right' aura.
Trait 2: Talking about family makes me tremendously sad so I change the subject to something light immediately.
Ideal: No more regrets: Life is an intricate song, lose yourself in the music, don't miss your opportunity cos' you only get one shot.
Bond: Make music with me and you are part of the band - any who threatens the band will have their heads added to the drum kit
Flaw: My sadness hides a deep shame. My shame hides a deep fear. I battle cowardice with a terrible rage.

Hopes and FearsHope 1: Music will unite the people of the wilds and we will build a maginficent city together
Hope 2: Yddraixal will embrace the music to bind us all into a band, recognise the genius of the drum kit and allow me to have my own space to build it and play it
Fear 1: I didn't bury everyone back at Grahlstown after the massacre; the unburied ghosts haunt my dreams
Fear 2: Siggaret still resides in my soul. He will take my soul again when my band most needs me and they will die, like my family died.

Initial Reactions to other Characters

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Name: An'mal




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Old Jul 6th, 2022, 05:16 PM
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Quarterpound Quarterpound is offline
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Seventh Egg of the Seventh Egg
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Name: Xolotl
Race: Lizardfolk
Class: Druid
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Background: Outlander
Appearance: Xolotl is quite the hulking figure, though perhaps only to those unfamiliar with the jungle Huechotl tribe they come from, where they were considered small. Despite not getting their tribe's enormous size, though, they do have the dark green, brown, and copper scales of their tribe, as well as the dark green crest that runs down the middle of their skull. Two smaller crests flank the main central one. They have glittering, unblinking eyes of a deep amber, flecked with gold, slashed with void-black pupils. They have a a wide mouth filled with jagged, reptilian teeth, more-than-hinting at a diet heavy with flesh. They speak in a soft, almost disconcerting whisper, completely at odds with their hulking form. If you get close enough to smell their scent, they small of earth and sunlight.
Personality: This druid is soft-spoken and prefers to listen than to speak. They are an outsider in a strange world, many miles from home, and have found their best chance of survival is to observe and learn. Their gaze can be intense, if not off-putting, especially to those who have noticed no difference between a look of interest and a look of hunger. Having lost as much as they have, though, they have learned to curb their more deeply seated instincts of needing to feed, and are beginning to wrap their heads around the idea of delayed gratification.

Background and Concept Elements
1: Xolotl is a stranger in a strange land. Like a crash-landed alien, they find themselves alone and untrusting. With their entire tribe wiped out (to their knowledge) and having to live in a vicious, nonsensical world of warmbloods, they had to learn quickly that what served their tribe, viciousness, strength, honor, are not traits that will serve them here. At their core, Xolotl is lost, wary, and trying to survive.
2: Despite being small for their tribe, Xolotl has found they are larger than a lot of the wider world and this has given them a rare boost in confidence. Where they once were considered an over-thinking runt, they now find themselves to be a brute in the eyes of most folk they encounter. They have also learned to play into the stereotype, finding it is easier to be underestimated, especially when the idea of ego is such an alien concept to them. As such, they are used to carrying a shield and club from their tribe, which serve as reminders of what they have lost, too.
3: With the death of their tribe, Xolotl lost their connection to ancestors and the spoken histories of their people. They only have the stories they carry with them. Without those ancestral spirits to guide them, without the elder priests to educate them, Xolotl has turned to the animal spirits of the world, spirits that were considered lesser in their tribe. But desperate times call for strange alliances.
4: Xolotl plays the pan flute. The few times they have traveled with people, at the end of the travel day, they've settled down on the outskirts of the group, close enough to the fire to gain warmth from it but far enough away so as to not disturb their traveling companions, and softly played the pan flute as a way to keep the peace.
5: Part of Xolotl's priest training with their tribe included herbalism. Unfortunately, what they learned with the Huechotl has not served in the wider world, as the flora they've found in their travels is very different from the species native to their swampy jungle temples.

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1: Xolotl carries the entire oral tradition of their tribe with them. If they were to die, so would their tribe. Not only does this put a greater emphasis on survival and procreation, but it drives Xolotl to finding a way to preserve the tribe's names and deeds. After having traveled the wide world for a while, they have come to understand the use of written records and visual representations. Perhaps in Yddraixl's Ruin, Xolotl can found a temple to honor their fallen tribe, where they can record their tribe's oral tradition in word and mural. Somewhere they can pass on their shamanistic ways and, perhaps, gather others into a new tribe.
2: My goal with Xolotl is to walk a fine line between the supposed alien, unfeeling mind of lizardfolk and an interesting, complex character for the game. I want to pay respect to WotC's ideas for this race, but would like to explore something more nuanced than just "lizardfolk are savage, unfeeling murders interested in only food and reproduction". I've also (and I'm not the first) created head canon in my mind of lizardfolk empires based on Mesoamerican cultures. With the campaigns themes of anti-colonialism and the survival of non-pinks in a pink-centric world, I especially want to explore what it means to be the "other".

1: Xolotl is intersex, a rare but not unheard of occurrence in their former tribe. Any younglings born intersex are always groomed by the tribe to be spiritual leaders, and Xolotl was no different. Since leaving their home, however, Xolotl has come to realize that it is even rarer in the wider world, and having to talk at nauseum about it has made them hide that fact and they find it easier to agree with everyone's assumption they're male. Being intersex, however, Xolotl is infertile and the weight of being unable to continue their tribe's bloodline weighs heavily on them.
2: The Lizard Queen of Xolotl's former tribe survived the human attack. She was captured and tortured for a time before she was able to escape and is now on the run with the sole purpose of rebuilding her empire. Should she ever hear of Xolotl's survivor, she will come for them, either to recruit them or to kill them. Should Xolotl find out their Queen survived, who knows how they would act.

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Character Connections
1: The Queen - Born with a touch of the Nine Hells, Queen Teolichitza was destined to lead. She was leader of the Huechotl tribe by the time she was seven, having murdered and consumed almost half of the priesthood in one fell swoop. Once her power was solidified, she deified herself, an easy enough task when the tribe's power structure was in shambles. The harder part, was uniting the tribe with more than just fear. With their fear of her came an eventual love. She brought violence and chaos, but those brought food and strength. The tribe flourished. Its lands became less a territory and more an empire, stretching through vast swaths of swamp and jungle, pressing up against pink-skin and warm-blood territories. Where once the tribe skirmished, now they raided. Organized strike forces of brutish warriors with heavy weapons, blessed by their Queen, who brought back food and, more importantly, slaves. Some were sacrificed to her, others were put to work, building great temples, causeways, entire cities. Queen Teolichitza and her Huechotl empire... It couldn't last. Even if they had not been violent expansionists, looking to reclaim land that was, rightfully, theirs, the tribe could not be allowed to survive. The pinks and the warms came, united under a single banner, and burned the tribe out. Fire. Magic. Disease. Every tactic beneath the sun and moons to lay them low. Queen Teolichitza was captured and the tribe was no more.
2: The Scientist - A gnome artificer saw an opportunity to advance their own agenda. When the doom came for the Huechotl empire, he rode beneath its banner and made sure to take some souvenirs. Eggs. Children. Relics. Anything he could find that would make for suitable experiments or would line his pocket. After all, what use did a bunch of lizard swamp-dwellers have for their own history? Especially when they found themselves on the losing side of genocide? So take, he did. And with that wealth and those experiments, he's carved out a comfortable little niche for himself, one he uses to increase his own wealth, to supply his experiments, and to reinforce the imperialism of the pinks.
3: The Sun - The lizardfolk priest who raised Xolotl, named Oronetl. A studious, soft spoken creature who placed value on cunning over strength. When Queen Teolichitza first rose to power, Oronetl was the first to capitulate. He saw the way the wind was blowing. He remembered the stories of lizard queens and kings and what happened when they came to power. Where others stood their ground, preaching the old ways of the sun, Oronetl warped the teaching to fit the Queen's new narrative. Overnight, she became sun-blessed, and he became her first priest. She never really trusted him, of course, and the feeling was mutual. When the armies of pinks came down upon the empire of Huechotl, Oronetl was, again, not caught sleeping. He escaped with his protoge, a young lizardfolk druid, and left the Queen and her empire to their fate. At the edge of the swamp, Oronetl urged Xolotl on, urged them to remember their oral history, and lead their pursuers off in a different direction.

Memories, Mannerisms, or Quirks
1: The Day the Pinkskins Came - In some ways, Xolotl owes their life to that invasion. The Queen had been demanding Xolotl's heart that day, saying she needed the power of one of Oronetl's strongest disciples to see into the future. Oronetl, uncharacteristically, had stalled long enough for the army to arrive at the main city. Battle was joined, and Oronetl escorted Xolotl free of the city as it fell. Xolotl had never seen their master disobey the Queen and still does not understand why he would have done so.
2: The Road is All Hard Lessons - The first settlement Xolotl encountered after escaping the fallen Huechotl empire was a trading post filled with pink skins and their ilk. Xolotl's only experience with them had been limited to slaves and the invading army. To encounter those who were neither afraid of them nor hateful of them, was confusing. Sure, there was disdain, but they noticed quickly that in this backwater outpost and last stop for adventurers heading into the wilds, that disdain was almost equally spread out amongst all of them. Sure, Xolotl had most of their possessions taken. Sure, Xolotl was jumped in an alley. Sure, everyone glared at them. But everyone did that to everyone else there, too. As confusing a new experience as it was, there was something oddly comforting in that. It wasn't long after that Xolotl took their first caravan guard job.

Character Description
Traits: I feel far more comfortable around animals than humanoids. I place no stock in wealthy or well-mannered folk. Money and manners won't save you from a hungry owlbear.
Ideals: Survival. Life is about survival of the fittest. (Neutral)
Bonds: I am loyal to those who have proven useful.
Flaws: I am slow to trust members of other races, tribes, and societies, though I am slightly more accepting of monstrous races.

Xolotl, Lizardfolk Druid

Last edited by Quarterpound; Jul 19th, 2022 at 02:17 PM.
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