[Characters] Character Sheets

[Jennifer]

Please copy/paste your application here and secret your character sheet when it is completed. Thank you.

Current Party Members Player Name Character Name Class Race Status Dalarangreen Tsarra Rhothomir Barbarian/Fighter Elf Active Seekr34 Thauior Forestwind Druid/Ranger Wood Elf Active JaredSyn Theris Warlock Teifling Active Clawsome Loric Silverstrings Bard/Rogue Half-Elf Active Unforgiven Ayduin Jhereg Chrono-Mage High-Elf Active Creed Cirrume Jhereg Monk High-Elf Active MundayKnight Rovard Barbarian/Rogue Half-Orc In-Active Thanatus Mors Anseis Paladin Human In-Active Silverfeathers Kane Fighter/Cleric Hill Dwarf In-Active Strange2099 An'ne Liyana Cleric Aasimar In-Active

[MundayKnight]

Rovard Khan Character sheet: https://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=74543 Race: Half-Orc Age: 25 Class: Rogue 2 barbarian 1 Profession: "Community Protector" Alignment: Neutral good. Background: Outlander Personality: Rovard is a kindly man by nature. Those who know him well learn his gruff demeanor and oft snarling visage are covers for a gentle heart that would rather avoid violence. Rovard has devoted his life to his neighborhood community and has guided it's development for the past decade, from a place of lawless violence and cruelty to it's modern stance as one of the safest areas in the city. What little crime does sneak in is met with swift and often debilitating retribution. Some believe that Rovard's vigilante justice is in and of itself a gross injustice but his neighborhood remembers the time before the youth, when no guard would come to your aid as you where mugged, or worse, in the dark alleyways. Perhaps his view of justice is too vicious, but it was born in a vicious place. When beyond the twisting narrows of his home he is a reserved man, speaking rarely and preferring to be ignored. His physical features make this rather unlikely. Appearance: Even among such a physically imposing species as Orcs Rovard stands out. With tusks thicker than a dwarf's thumb and limbs that would not look out of place on an ancient redwood Rovard is a distorted peak of physical perfection. Standing at well over seven feet in height the half-orc has often been mistaken as a pure blood by those not acquainted with pure blood skin tones. These misidentifications are never corrected, the more people believe him to be a savage orc the less fools enter his home. He dresses in dark blues and blacks, often one color striped with the other to break up his form as he moves. At his side or resting comfortably on his back is a knot ended quarter staff mere inches shorter than himself. In combat the giant never uses it but it looks appropriately intimidating when needed. Backstory: Rovard was born among his orcish kin and even at a young age it was clear he would be special. His Father, Rovan, was proud of the boy's physique and sharp mind but early on he noticed something that would not aid him among his tribe, the boy was meek. He towered over the other youths but would acquiesce without complaint on nearly any point. At first Rovan thought his child was simply waiting for an opportune moment to strike or perhaps that the boy was simply not confident in his abilities but as time went on and Rovard continued to bend the proud orc sat his child down and asked him why he refused to stand up for himself. Rovard explained to his Father that he would gravely injure the other children if he fought them and did not want to cripple any of them. His Father was taken aback by the child's sincere fear of his own strength but endeavored to teach his son ways of standing up for himself physically that would not leave his opponent broken. Rovard took tot he training like a fish to water and no longer was he looked down upon by his kin, rather he was feared for his ability to humiliate every challenger without striking a single blow. Rovard's life among his orcish family continued in this way for years until the youth was just entering into his teens. At this time the young man's life crumbled around him as his Father grew ill. The tribal shaman was unable to do anything for the orc and so Rovard took him to the nearest city to try and find a healer with the skill to bring him back from the cusp of death. Despite doing everything he could to save his Father the proud orc passed, his form a withered husk of its previous self. For a time after Rovan's death Rovard withdrew from the world and in time he found himself in a dark alley eating whatever scraps he could find just to survive. This time changed Rovard. The happy youth turned into a self contained teen but it did teach him many things, the most important being that he was a very tribal being. It started slowly at first with Rovard stopping a few attempted muggings in the dark alleys of his home but in time he found himself upon the wrong side of the local King Pin. The man was selling drugs and flesh with equal abandon but the city watch did nothing to stop him, as long as the foul man kept himself contained to the ghettos that the non-humans lived in he was free to do as he would but the man found that Rovard was not so easily bought. Not long after Rovard made this point apparent to one of the criminal's underlings the man flexed his muscle far more than he had before. Night of glass: The young half-orc lay in his bed staring intently at the back of his eyelids thinking only of the sweet embrace of sleep that so artfully eluded him. He had spent most of the day trying to get a pair of young halflings to stop bickering over who had asked the gnomish lass down at the tavern to the festival first. Lucky for Rovard he was able to talk sense into the little men before it devolved to violence as he had long ago found his father's folksy wisdom to be true, you never wish to stand in front of a halfling out for blood. As sleep could just be felt on the edge of his mind a loud pounding erupted from the wooden block Rovard used as a door. The youth rose from his bed and moved the block to the side. Standing before him was a half-orc merchant gasping for breath. "What is the matter Fritz?" Another deep intake of air and the man finally managed to form words. "Some guards are smashing up the marketplace. Destroying everything they can get their hands on. They aren't in uniform but Evalia recognized them." "Go get some on duty guards, tell them a human has been kidnapped and they need to get there quickly but not startle the abductors and get them to the market as fast as you can." The winded half-orc nodded before rushing off down the twisting narrows of Rovard's home. Rovard grabbed four sets of manacles from his wall as well as a length of rope with a deep sigh. When fully prepared for what was to come the youth ran as swiftly as his long legs would carry him and arrived on the outskirts of the market in minutes. Laying before him was ruin. Stalls were shattered, food was trampled into the ground, ceramics had been turned to dust under hobnailed boots. A pair of the markets hawkers were laying bloody on the ground, their forms occasionally twitching with spasms of pain as moans rattled from their chest. The vibrant life and energy of the market was filled with the frantic energy of terror and in this now fragile place a growl rumbled from Rovard that drew every eye in the square. The guards stared at him as he approached but after only a few steps they got enough of their thoughts together to gather into a crowd. The largest of the guards was the first to make a move. The man did his best to slam into Rovard with his truncheon but the orcish youth slid under it with the practiced ease of a dancer before sending an elbow back into the base of the man's spine, dropping him to his knees. Swift hands clamped manacles onto the man's wrist and began binding them tightly as the heavy stomps hobnailed boots hit pavement behind him. "Brash." The boy slammed the kneeling man's face into the ground while launching his legs into the air, vicing his thighs around the man's throat before he could begin bludgeoning the child. He squeezed tightly as he brought the man to the ground and smashed a manacle roughly into the bridge of his nose. Blood began to run from the broken bridge and the young man released his grip as he manacled the second man. "Loud." The other three guards stood back with a look of fear in their eyes. Rovard stood and the sound of rushing feet came from behind him, the on-duty guards had finally arrived. "City Watch your brethren have invaded my home. They have crushed the dreams of hard working men and women. This day I will return your fellows to you unharmed, if one of you ever enters this neighborhood again I will leave them more shattered than this marketplace." With that the young man hauled the two manacled guards up by the the manacles, their wrists and shoulders audibly popping out of sockets before dropping the men at the recently arrived guards feet. "Tell Trask that he is done here. If he keeps trying to operate in my home I will hold you responsible." After that the youth simply turned and walked away to return once more to his small little shack. A festive bear: The years since the night of glass had been good for Rovard. The event had cemented him as a protector of his community and since then his basic needs had all been taken care of without worry. Given a steady supply of good food and even better company Rovard became an amicable mountain of a man. Around new people he was still gruff and dour but when around those he had taken into his tribe he was a font of joy and on this day that font was overflowing. The neighborhood was in rare form for the Great White Festival. Fireworks made by the mad gnomish inventor made the night's sky fill with light and sound. The man had been drinking since the moment he walked out his door, a flask being shoved into his hand by an already inebriated dwarf, and any time he ran out he was topped off by a

[Thanatus Mors]

He is known as Anseis the Fierce by the public at large. An avenging angel of death for his Lord, the King of the Gods. Though, in fairness it is his hatred of evil that binds him more to the Great Father than love or devotion. To those who know him, he is Anseis the Damned; because the cost of his failure will forever weigh upon his soul until such time as he dies and continues to pay for his sins in eternity. He isn't motivated by atonement, devotion, or altruism as such...though he displays all of those traits and more. He is capable of great compassion and soaring acts of kindness, which are counterbalanced by his capacity for violence and torment. He is a wandering Knight of Vengeance, constantly on the hunt for evil. Ladies and gentlemen...I give you Anseis.

Official Application Anseis the Damned Male Human Paladin (Oath of Vengeance) Neutral Good Apologies to Grafit Studio of Voronezh, RU for the use of the image above. IT spoke to me... Race: Human Alignment: Neutral Good (NG) Background: Enforcer (Constabulary) [Basically a “cop” variant based on the Outlander base] Personality Traits (2): (1) Once I'm on a case (or a trail, etc.), I don't think of anything else until it's resolved; one way or another. | (2) I am stoic in the face of every kind of hardship; so long as it’s me enduring the hardship. Ideal: Mind The Gap – Laws are good. They keep society balanced by keeping good people and cowardly, petty, or merely self-interested people in check through fear of incarceration or costly sanction. But there's a point where small, selfish evil grow perniciously into dark, malevolent forces, and the laws are no longer limiting factors to them. It is in these times when society needs an equally dark force whose intentions are good, to mind the gap. Bond: I do terrible things to terrible beings, so that others do not have to, and may live their lives in peace and ignorance. Flaw: My apathy and failure allowed a great evil to take place. When the night is quiet and I have no evil upon which focus my hatred, it turns inward; only the bottle numbs the pain and keeps the demons at bay. Backstory:   Anseis the Fierce was not always so. To some, he was Anseis the Arrogant, to others, he was Anseis the Ass, still others…those very close to him (and these were few indeed)…knew him simply as Anseis. From the time he was a boy, Anseis dreamed of protecting his community as an Enforcer in the city constabulary. Upon receiving his commission and entering the Constabulary, Anseis was ecstatic. The thought of righting wrongs and protecting the innocent charged him with a purpose and a sense of righteousness. Over time, however, the job became rote. The graft and corruption of the magistrates became more open. The abuses of power by the other enforcers and the revolving door that had become the city’s holding cells had served to completely disillusion Anseis. Anseis himself never took a bribe. Never abused his authority for personal gain. But he did stop caring. He had become Anseis the Apathetic. One bleak, rainy evening, Anseis stood in the immigrant quarter; soaked to the bone and half-attendant while some fat, sweaty bronze merchant who smelled of too much hashish and cured meat droned on about an attempted robbery. “Are you even listening to me, Enforcer?!? HEY…!!!” Anseis reaches out his hand and clutches the merchant by the throat and calmly growls, “Quiet…Now, did you have anything stolen?” The merchant silently shook his head no. “Were you hurt?” The merchant silently shook his head no. “Is there anything more you need from me tonight?” They stared at each other for the briefest of moments before the merchant began to cautiously shake his head no. “No…that’s what I thought…” Anseis released the merchant, and looked around the shop. The last thing I need is answer a bunch of questions and work late for this shite hole. He turned to leave the bronze peddler’s shop. Anseis was no more than thirty feet outside the door when he heard the fat bronze peddler yell after him, “HEY…!!! HEY!!!!! That’s him…stop him!!” Anseis stopped and turned only to be almost flattened by a wiry, mousy looking wretch of a man. Anseis wrapped him up in his arms and, throwing him into an arm bar and slamming him against the wall, turned to see the fat bronze peddler panting heavily and stumbling up to him. “Tha…tha…that’s him! That’s the dog that tried to steal from me!” “Did you try to steal from this man?” “No sir! I would never do such a thing…I couldn’t…my health you see…I’m so frail…” The bronze peddler challenged, “Then why were you running!?!”. “I had just bought a loaf of bread for my family and I was trying to get home before the loaf became soaked and mushy in the rain.” Anseis looked down to see a loaf of bread sticking out from under his jacket; he released the man. “What the…!?!”, stammered the merchant. The scamp gave an exaggerated bow, “Thank you sir…thank you!!” and scurried off into the night. “What the hells do you think you’re doing?!?” “Shut up.” The stern coldness of Anseis’ voice quieted the peddler immediately. “He didn’t steal anything from you. You admitted that. An almost crime is not worth my time nor effort. Now, go choke your anger and frustration on a stick of salami. Or I can quell your anger for you, if you prefer…?” “No sir…no problem here…” with hands raised, the bronze peddler walked back to his shop in the driving rain; head hung and shaking in disgust. The following morning was just like all the others lately; stale bread, a cup of old mead that had a consistency more akin to honey than a drink, and then out the door of his miserable little flat…into the nasty fetid streets that he had once yearned to protect. As Anseis walked the city streets to the constabulary hall, feeling sorry for himself and his lot in life, he noticed a rather large crowd gathered out in front of the hall. Spotting one of the other enforcers, he inquired, “Roland…what’s going on?” The tall constable shook his head in disgust, “You know Omar? The bronze merchant over in the immigrant quarter?” “Yeah…had contact with him last night. Something about an attempted robbery. Bunch of ********…I think he was just looking to pick a fight or something. What’s the problem? He get into some kind of trouble?” Roland looked at his fellow enforcer with an expression of shame and embarrassment. “Trouble? I’d say poor old Omar is just about the most unlucky guy in the land. His family was attacked last night. All three of his daughters and his wife were raped and killed while he was forced to watch; it was horrific.” Shock hit Anseis in the gut like a sledge. He had treated poor Omar so unkindly, and now this terrible thing had happened. “And Omar? Did he hunt the bastard down and kill him yet?” “Unfortunately for him, no…” Roland shook his head, “…that’s why the crowd is here. One of our recruits saw something suspicious through the window and walked in just as the guy was finishing up and getting ready to cut Omar’s throat. Kid knocked the guy out and asked Omar what happened, but the guy had cut out Omar’s tongue and pinned his mouth shut with some of Omar’s bronze furniture tacks. We’ve got Omar and the guy inside. These people want blood.” Anseis, not hearing anything after the bit about the recruit finding both of the men, ran up the stairs to the constabulary hall entrance and burst through the door. Upon entering the hall, he saw two enforcers holding the scamp with the bread from the night before. Across the room, a priest tried to comfort and console Omar while two other enforcers ripped the bronze tacks from his mouth with crimpers. His screams were gut wrenching. Anseis turned back to the scamp, with eyes wide and mouth agape. Their eyes met. “Ahhh…Enforcer…I want to thank you. Had you not released me last night, I would not have had the most wondrous evening. The Great Godess must be sooo pleased with my sacrifice. Would you like to hear about it? The flesh of those little ones was…intoxicating…” he smiled broadly and inhaled deeply through his nose, as if trying to recall a scent from memory. Anseis stood in shock. He looked back at Omar, and their eyes met. Yep, Omar recognized him. In a rage thankfully unknown to most in this life, Omar opened his mouth with such force that the bronze tacks simply ripped through his lips, while still maintaining their anchoring in his gums. But poor old Omar didn’t even wince. Omar raised his right hand and screamed at the top of his lungs. But the sound that came out, unable to be formed by tongue or lip, was completely unintelligible. But Ansies knew exactly what he said. He didn’t need to process it with his ears. He heard it in his soul, “Your fault! You did this!” Anseis’s world spun for the briefest of moments. All he could see were his fellow enforcers looking at him; the wiry scamp laughing maniacally; and Omar…poor Omar…his world having been ripped away. It's often said and has become trite, but Omar’s fate truly was a fate worse than death. A fate not to be wished upon one’s worst enemy. And why? Why this injustice? To what end? Simply put…Anseis the Apathetic. He had been too busy, too bored to do his job. His laziness had allowed evil to rear its ugly head and snuff out the lives of Omar’s wife and daughters in a hellish fashion. My fault! I did this! The words rang to the core of his being, and hung there. Echoing. The whirlwind came to an immediate end when, out of the corner of his eye, Omar gasped loudly, clutched his chest and dropped to the floor. Dead. “Awwww…I was so hoping dear Omar and I would get the chance to recount our escapades last night.” The dark, wiry man frowned visibly. “So much to tell…” he sniffed deeply again. At that moment, Anseis’ mind cleared. The guilt of his complicity melted away; the fear of being discovered as a lazy, faithless fraud receded; and the uncontrolled rage at the injustice evaporated into nothing. Nothing remained but a cold, focused, hatred. A *pure* hatred. A hatred unlike anything he had experienced before in his life. It was not a hatred of the man; the sack of meat that stood before him. It was a hatred of what resided *within* the man. The evil that had grown beyond the limits of societal control. It was a cancer, and it needed to be excised before it spread. Anseis walked over to the dark little man and stared for a moment. His fellow enforcers were peppering him with questions, “What’s he talking about, Ans?” “Do you know this guy?” The questions came in flurries, but Anseis couldn’t even process them. He was focused. He was studying this…this *thing*. This evil presence that occupied the same space as the man before him. This would not be the last time he saw it, and he wanted to be sure he would recognize it next time. Finally; after what seemed like an eternity of staring into the abyss of the murder’s eyes; there it was. The presence. The evil. It was clear as day now. There was no missing it. No hiding from Anseis. It was visible. “Ahhh…there you are…” Anseis’ voice was cool and measured; completely devoid of emotion. For the first time, the man’s eyes widened with fear “Wait…enforcer…you can’t…” Before the wretch could finish his thought, Anseis reached up with a fluidity of motion that caught even himself by surprise. With his left hand he grabbed the back of the murderer’s hair, and with his right he grabbed the man’s jaw; closing his mouth, and forcing the jaw back into the man's trachea. With a simple twist, the man’s neck snapped like a dried twig and he fell to the floor like a wet sack of flour. His fellow enforcers simply stood by in shock, unsure of what to do next. Anseis calmly turned and walked out the front door. Walking by Roland, he almost whispered, “It’s done. Send them home.” He kept walking, not knowing where, exactly, he was going. Eventually he found himself at Omar’s house. He was met at the door by the recruit that first discovered the scene. “Sir, you don’t want to go in there…the cleaners won’t go in until the priest comes. Some truly sick stuff in there.” “No…I need to see this. I *deserve* to see this…” he walked past as the recruit gave a double take at Anseis’ odd word choice. Deserve? Upon entering the upper room, Anseis was confronted by the most depraved sight imaginable. The three little girls were bound to rafters and bedposts. The blood vessels in their eyes, face and necks were all ruptured from trying to scream while their mouths were stuffed with soiled chamber pot rags. And their chests. They were…carved upon. Six arrows pointing down. A symbol Anseis had seen, but never paid much attention to. A symbol of an obscure sect of the Dark Goddess. A symbol that Anseis had seen on a church right there in the immigrant quarter; not two blocks away. It took no time for Anseis to arrive at the place. A sickening stench permeated the air. He had been by here dozens, probably hundreds of times. Why had he not noticed this stench before now? No matter he thought as he walked inside. Upon entering the Dark Church of The Goddess, he saw two priests at the altar talking and laughing. “That’s right…Omar and his *whole* family. He won’t be a problem anymore, and we got 3 virgins out of the deal.” The other priest chuckled and slapped the first priest in the chest with the back of his hand, "Well, at least they started out as virgins!" The two men continue their hail of laughter. Hearing the door slam shut, the two priests turn to see Anseis striding up the center aisle to the altar. “Ahhh, enforcer, welcome!” The priest holds his arms outstretched in a welcoming gesture, “We’ve heard so much about your assistance in our…” as the words were forming in his throat, Anseis swung his mace. In one fluid, un-halting arc, he struck the neck of the elder priest; snapping it cleanly. He struck with such force that the priest’s neck wrapped around the end of the mace and his left ear made an audible *thud* on the already-dead priest’s left shoulder. The other priest turned, but before he could even start to run, Anseis lunged forward with his mace and struck the younger priest in the lower back, crushing his lumbar spine, and dropping him to the ground. As the priest lay there writhing and vomiting from the pain, Anseis knelt down and whispered in his ear, “When you meet your Goddess here in the next minute, you tell her that I, Anseis the Damned, am coming for the Whore. Right after I kill the rest of her sheep in this world.” With that, Anseis raised his mace and brought it down sharply on the temple of the priest, crushing his skull and evacuating his brain matter over the dais. As he walked out the front door of the dark church, he heard an alarm sound. It was the same alarm he had responded to countless times over the past few years; the alarm of the constabulary. Soon, he thought, soon they’ll be here to take me to a cell, and I’ll be hanging by morning. Anseis sat down on the front steps of the dark church, comfortably resigned to his fate. If only I had more time. I'd hunt these bastards to the ends of the world. Just then a man in gray robes walked past. His robes bore no distinguishing marks save a holy symbol hanging at his waist – a simple triskelion. At once, Anseis recognized him as the priest from the constabulary hall that had tried to console poor Omar. “Come with me…you’re off to a good start, but you have much work yet to do.” Without speaking, and more than a little confused, Anseis rose to his feet and followed the man into an alley and through a maze of shops, stalls, and arcades, until they finally arrived at the Monastery of the Father God, Almighty King. Upon arriving, the Brothers of The AllFather explained to Anseis that he had been chosen. He had been chosen to be the avenging angel of The Father in this world. As the commotion outside subsided and the days passed, Anseis remained hidden inside the tall, and thick walls of the monastery. News eventually found its way to him that the Constabulary had found their man. Clearly they were covering for Anseis, and trying to hide their own failure in this debacle. A vagrant rapist that had been preying on prostitutes had confessed (or been made to confess?) to the crime against Omar's family as well. There was no mention of the scamp in the constabulary hall. Nor was there any mention of Anseis snapping his neck in full view of the assembled constables. No, that part of the story, and the priests killed in the Dark Church of The Goddess seemed to have never happened. Or at least, nobody was talking about it. Anseis was free. But free to do what? Return to his old life? Not a chance. He didn’t have many friends, mostly just a few close acquaintances. No family to speak of; parents were dead and he had a sister that had disappeared years ago with a caravan of rug traders; who knew where she was. No, this new life was the only one that seemed right. But it was clear in short order that he did not fit in as a Brother of The AllFather. After two weeks with the brothers, the day came when they accompanied him to a larger, more isolated monastery far from the crowding of the city. Here he trained in the martial and holy arts. He refined his skills, and honed his hatred from a blunt instrument into a razor-sharp edge. He had become an Avenging Acolyte of The GodKing. His training had drawn to a close, and he had grown weary of escorting brothers back and forth from the monastery to the city. Finally, the Abbot came to him and said, “Brother Anseis, the time has come for you to leave the walls of this refuge and go forth to wet your sword.” Anseis was ready. “You must go to the Great White Festival. We have gotten word from our mission there that it is imperative our Brotherhood send an envoy. Your services are required. You leave at first light.” Since leaving that dark church, Anseis the Damned (as he now calls himself), or Anseis the Fierce (as others are sometimes wont to call him), has been moving toward this moment. His true calling was to find and destroy every source of evil he could locate. He hoped that one day, before he dies, the number of people spared from evil will outnumber Omar, his wife and his girls. A seemingly simple enough task numerically, although in his heart Anseis knows those scales can never be balanced. He will always be Anseis the Damned. All he knows is that one day he will die, and whatever his fate may be, he will have well and truly earned it. To this day, every night before he fades to sleep he hears the same words in his head and in his soul, only this time they are clear; as if Omar is screaming them from beyond the grave with restored voice. “Your fault! You did this!” Which Anseis promptly follows with his own words which have become something of a prayer now, “Yes it is. Yes I did. With all my heart I pledge to you my penitence. And with all my soul I make you this promise, Omar…Never again. Never. Again.” And so it is that Anseis now finds himself, among the revelers and diplomats in their finery at the Great White Festival. "Parties! Pfft! Bloody waste of time." as a porter passes with a tray of red wine, Anseis effortlessly pulls two glasses of claret from the tray. "Might as well make the most of it..." He chugs the first, and throws the empty goblet into the fireplace, then takes a still large, but more measured drink from the remaining goblet. Just then a rather nondescript man resembling a brother of his order walks past Anseis, and deftly tucks an envelope into Anseis' sword belt, whispering, Dear Brother, 'tis truly a special rose whose petals cut deeper than her thorns..." before disappearing into the crowd. Anseis guzzles the last of the claret, and sets the goblet on a nearby table. He pulls the envelope from his belt and inspects it closely. The envelope is black and sealed with an origami black rose. As Anseis runs the tips of his fingers over the rose, one of the razor sharp petals cuts him. The resulting drops of blood on the rose causes the seal to open. As Anseis reads the letter, it is a simple invitation to the keep of someone named Lord Mallowar. Transportation is to be provided, though no further details regarding location, identification, or anything else for that matter are provided. "Oh well. They knew who I was, and they knew where to find me to give me the invitation. Suppose I'll stay here until they find me again." The porter passes again with his refilled tray of goblets, and once again Anseis smoothly nicks two of them, downs one, throws the empty, and begins to work on the second. The porter looks at Anseis with a combination of disgust and frustration. Anseis raises his goblet in a motions suggesting 'cheers' and quips, Keep 'em coming, lad. I don't s'pose I'm going anywhere anytime soon." The porter harrumphs and walks off to refill his tray once more.

[dalarangreen]

Tsarra Rhothomir

Name: Tsarra Rhothomir
Class: Fighter 1 / Ranger 3
Profession: Sailor
Background: Folk Hero ("The Elven Hornet")


Appearance & Personality:
With tussled black hair and piercing brown eyes, Tsarra is as fierce as she appears. It is no wonder that she is respected even amongst the crudest sailors. While she is neither as strong nor as muscular as some of her peers, she is nimble and hardy. In bar-room scuffles, many a rowdy drunkard has received a swift punch in the gut before he could so much as swing a punch. Others are further surprised when their own powerful blows connect but seem to do little to dissuade this fearless elf.

In conversation, Tsarra is skeptical with a slight touch of bitterness. But that is not to say she is unable to have fun! She loves i.e., a great keg of beera great party, even if she tends to be somewhat of a wall-flower--a fact which startles people, particularly dwarves. Though her laugh is neither loud nor boisterous, her asymmetric smile and glittering eyes speak volumes about her mirth and amusement.

 

5e Character Building Ideal: "Judge people by their actions, not by their race. Besides, nobility are scum, regardless of what race they hail from." Bond: "I try to send money to my little brother whenever I'm able. It's easier for me then going to see him..." Trait: "Turns out I am a really good baker. Didn't expect that of me, did you?" Trait: "There's nothing like watching the sunset at sea. Even on land, I try not to miss catching the sunset (if I can help it). It's just an important ritual in my life." Flaw: "When I'm angry, I don't really know when to quit. If your feelings get hurt easily, I don't recommend trying to mince words with me."

 

Character History Growing Up... Tsarra comes from Elven Kingdom of Tanneth. All in all, it was a peaceful place, though the same could not be said of its neighbor, the Human Kingdom of Dirkl. For whatever reason, the Kingdom of Dirkl was wrought with the squabbles of nobles, not to mention the fiends of the cursed Goddess seemed to be attracted to Dirkl like moths to a flame. The elves of Tanneth--who assumed that the appearance of these monsters was because of the corrupt, ineptness of the humans of Dirkl--were happy to keep to themselves, isolated and safe within their borders. Needless to say, the wood elves didn't necessarily have the most positive opinion of humans. Nor did the troubles of Dirkl seem to bother them. Which brings us to some of the difficulties Tsarra faced growing up. Tsarra loves her little brother, Cawain, of that there can be no question. However, because her father, Gilvas Rhothomir, chose to sire Cawain with a human woman... Poor Cawain would frequently get picked on (as one might expect) and Tsarra herself became the subject of countless rumors. Yes, Cawain was a half-elf. No, Tsarra was not a half-elf. What possessed Tsarra's father to have a child with another woman is beyond Tsarra, nor does she really care to know the reason. Besides, for all that Tsarra dislikes her father, Tsarra is probably more like Gilvas than she would care to admit... Banished from Her Home... When Tsarra was old enough, she joined the border guard of Tanneth. Their duties were primarily to prevent the stray monster of the evil Goddess from venturing across the border into Tanneth and to protect the woods from any greedy Dirkl noble who thought they might be able to sneak some logs from the border to turn a profit. Tsarra was a strong warrior even at a young age and the position suited her. Almost suited her. Tsarra could not understand why the elves, her brethren would not hunt the monsters of the goddess, even when they were just beyond the woods that lay in their borders. Were not the monsters enemies of all races, whether they be elves, dwarves, or even humans? One day, while out on patrol, the wood elves spotted a group of monsters descend upon a human village just outside of the Tanneth border. "We aren't going to help them!?!" Tsarra spoke up, incredulously. The group continued to watch as the monsters murdered and chased the humans, running like panicked game. A human woman began to run towards the woods. She was clutching a small human baby, shouting towards the woods for someone, anyone to protect her child. Still the elves did nothing. Tsarra could not stand for it. Disobeying orders from her commander, Tsarra leapt out from the woods and slayed every monster in the village by herself. To hell with her heartless comrades. As thanks, one of the villagers gave Tsarra a braided charm that Tsarra still wears in her hair to this day. When Tsarra was brought to her commanding officer for questioning, she was met with zero sympathy. As if to make matters worse, one of the local elven nobles, a young Lord AmneArren, happened to be inspecting the border guard that day. Lord AmneArren held humans with the highest disgust. After hearing the story, the Lord threatened to not only punish Tsarra herself, but her whole family--which would include Tsarra's younger brother Cawain. Fearful for her brother's safety, lest Lord AmneArren find out that her brother was a half-elf, Tsarra chose to publicly accept the punishment of exile from Tanneth. Angry at her country and kingdom, Tsarra roamed the lands of Dirkl for the next few years, hunting and slaying any of the evil monsters which attempted to lay waste to humans. She paid particular attention to protect those poor villages and settlements which the nobles of Dirkl seemed to think were unworth their time. It was during this time that Tsarra became known among the humans as the "Elven Hornet", a lone bee that strode out from its nest angry, stinging, and saving the meek. Tsarra herself was never fond of the name, but she had no ability to control it. Unfortunately, the name of this "heroic" figure began to spread and the nobles of Dirkl began to catch wind of it. It was not long before such nobility began to seek Tsarra out and enlist her in their schemes. Unwilling to become embroiled in the politics of Dirkl--and increasingly difficult to avoid--Tsarra chose to take to the seas and find a new kind of freedom. Current Life as a Sailor Tsarra's time at sea has been some of her happiest days of her life. There is a certain refreshing breeze that can only be found up among the sails of a tall ship at dawn. In fact, all this love of the sea transcends all racial divides: all those who Name of a Goddess worshipped by sailors. I imagine that the domains include weather, tides, luck, and other such sailor-focused imagery. Given what you've stated in the intro advertisement, I imagine that this is probably just another name for the Goddess of Nature. Let me know if I should edit this comment some how!the Borea enchants are bonded by this same love. This has meant that Tsarra has had the opportunity to meet people from all walks of life. After witnessing the diversity of people across Pyrn... Well, it has made her only more convinced of that all the people in her homeland of Tanneth are fools. Now she is headed to the Great White Festival with Captain Morwen, a woman who has been at sea for almost as long as Tsarra has been alive (at least in maturity, if not years). The Great White Festival is a source of great trade among merchants across Pyrn, and Captain Morwen had secured a nice commission to ship and deliver a huge shipment of goods for the festivities...

 

Roleplay Sample: At the Festival "...Now, you're free to go, but please don't cause a ruckus, which I know will be hard for some of you," Captain Morwen said to the assembled crew before releasing them to the festivities, "But I would rather not have to convince the guards that my subordinates are not actually the ruffians you think you all are..." That got a laugh from the crew. Captain Morwen gave a commanding sweep of her arm and the laughter died down, "All right, then. Dismissed! Except, you Tsarra. Please stay here a moment." 'Great,' Tsarra thought to herself, 'Another special lecture from the Captain. I suppose its my own fault for always getting myself into trouble.' Tsarra respected the Captain more than any one she had ever met. She was more than Tsarra's boss for sure. Above all else, the Captain had been a mentor to Tsarra. It bothered Tsarra that she always seemed to cause the Captain trouble, but Tsarra could get angry sometimes. When someone needed a punch in the face, ought not one punch them in the face? Tsarra braced herself to receive another helping of the Captain's, "Please be respectful," speeches, but was surprised when the Captain handed her a letter addressed to her personally instead. "This letter is for you, and you alone," Captain Morwen said, enigmatically, "Given what I have seen of you, Tsarra, I think it would be worth your time to open it." The Captain waved away any questions Tsarra might have had, so Tsarra had no choice but to accept the letter and head to the festival. Tsarra turned the letter in her hands as she walked. She had tried to open it several times, but had had no success. There was clearly some sort of magical seal on it. Which was extremely perplexing... Who had given her this letter? For what purpose? Why did the Captain think that Tsarra should open it? Did the Captain know what was inside? If the Captain did know, it was clear that she was not going to tell Tsarra anything more about it. Tsarra was still lost in her own thoughts when a low whimpering voice caught her attention. "Please don't take that amulet from me," the voice pleaded. "Eh, I can't hear you over the sound of those coins in your pockets. Or maybe it's because I don't have those dainty ears you've got there..." Tsarra looked over to see a small gang of human men standing in a circle in an alleyway nearby. A small chill went up her spine when one of the men commented about those "dainty ears." The way he said it made it clear what they thought about elves: it made Tsarra's blood boil. "And I suppose if you had a pair of decent ears at all, then you'd be able to hear when your presence wasn't appreciated," Tsarra interjected. The Captain had told her not to cause a ruckus... But there were just four of them, and it wasn't like they were in the middle of the road or anything. It would be fine! "And what do we have here? You the strumpet who birthed this boy?" the leader of the group replied, chuckling. "Oh, I'm sorry," Tsarra responded calmly, "Are you upset because there's not a single strumpet in town who was willing to accept your advances? Decided to take it out on a young man who can't defend himself? Quite petty." The deep red flush of anger on the man's face was incredibly satisfying. So was the spluttering lack of words... "Hit the mark, did I?" Before Tsarra could continue, the man rushed her as she had been suspecting. 'A clumsy stance,' she thought to herself, bracing herself the blow. She spat blood on the ground before returning a punch of her own right in the man's solar plexus. It didn't have quite the same strength behind it as the thug before her, but her accuracy made strength unnecessary. The man was instantly winded, falling to the ground in pain. The other three humans looked on in astonishment before wisely grabbing their pal and vacating the premises. Tsarra turned her attention to the young half-elf boy. He kind of reminded her a little of Cawain... "You're bleeding," the boy observed nervously. Tsarra touched her face, which was bleeding a little bit. Then she unclenched her fists and noticed the seal on her letter was glowing slightly. She had been so caught up in the moment that she hadn't even attempted to put the letter away. Now she had cut herself on the rose and bled all over the letter. Hopefully, it would still be legible! If she could figure out how to open it, that is...

Random Notes I just wanted to note that I am happy to alter / modify some of the backstory to fit the world better. For instance, I wasn't sure the political systems etc. of humans and elves, so I just sort of made things up. If it makes more sense for Tsarra to be from a "duchy" or some other kind of region / country, I'm happy to adapt. Also, let me know if the racial biases are too overplayed. Your advertisement made it seem like racial tensions are high in general, so I thought it seemed appropriate.

 

Tsarra Rhothomir Female Elf Fighter 2 / Ranger Lvl 5 (character sheet) AC: 16 ♦ HP: (46/46) ♦ Initiative: +4 ♦ Status: Healthy Other Defense: Advantage vs. Charm / Immune to Sleep ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Melee: [ +7 to hit / 1d8+7+2 (dueling)Rapier ] Ranged: [ +7+2 (archery) to hit / 1d8+7Longbow ] Special Offense: Atk another creature within 5 ft of the firstHordebreaker Spell Slots (DC 13): lvl 1 (4/4) lvl 2 (2/2) +1d6 dmg and adv. to find enemyHunter's Mark 1d10 for every creature within 5ft of struck enemy; dex save for halfHail of Thorns restrained on failed str save; 1d6 at the beginning of its turnEnsnaring Strike Other Options: Bonus action for 1d10+1 hpSecond Wind ]Additional actionAction Surge [1/1 Other Conditions:

[silverfeathers]

Kane Ironfrost
Race: Hill Dwarf
Gender/Age: male, 168
Class: Fighter 1/ Cleric 2 (war domain)
Profession: Stonemason, Tailor

Appearance: Kane is of average height by dwarf standards, just barely standing 4’ 7”. He has a broad chest and shoulders, and thick limbs. Looking at him you can tell he is no slouch as he walks with his armor and carries his hammer with ease. Like most Ironfrost dwarves he has reddish-auburn hair that he keeps tied back in a knot. His beard is trimmed very short and close to his face and is always well cared for. His face is a bit flat with a wide nose. Kane wears black armor with purple trim or robes in a similar color scheme in honor of the God of War; whom he serves. He has a tattoo in Dwarvish script on the inside of his left forearm and has a silver chain and pendant wrapped around his right wrist. He has a baritone voice with a soft gravelly quality.

Personality: Kane is slow to warm up to new people, which makes him appear as gruff or stand offish. But once you are in his good graces and inner circle he becomes quite personable. He has a practical mind having trained as a stonemason and builder; sticking to logical conclusions before venturing off into speculation. He can also be witty and sarcastic with those that dish out the sarcasm first.
Backstory/History: The Hill Dwarf city of Umbra did not always rise above ground like it does today. King Boldred II commissioned the building of the surface. The Ironfrost clan was one of the main builders on the project laying out the terraces and building heights for maximum impact on visitors. It is a grand city to gaze upon thanks to the Ironfrosts eye to detail and engineering. Umbra is divided between Upper Umbra on the surface and Lower Umbra inside the mountain the Hill Dwarfs call home. Umbra prospered until the war of the gods came from the heavens. Large portions of newly constructed Umbra was destroyed by demons and evil spirits. The dwarves of Umbra did all they could to defend their city from darkness and chaos. Then, man and the Gods arrived and the demons were pushed back and held at a stalemate.

Umbra was rebuilt under the Great Council, with the same clans returning to work on the city they so loved. Once again the Dwarven Empire flourished for centuries. That was until man sought to bring the other races under control of the empire again. This is where Kane’s story begins.

Unlike his forefathers Kane was called into the service of the king as a soldier not a stonemason. Though he had trained and studied the craft of stonework and engineering those skill were retired and would not be used again. There were soldiers in the Ironfrost clan back many, many generations but none in recent memory.

In the King’s army Kane was sent off to defend Umbra from an encroaching wave of humans. The clash between the two races did not go well. The dwarves were unprepared for the large amount of cavalry and took heavy loses. It was a crushing defeat, the humans moved closer to Umbra as a small handful of survivors trickled back to the dwarven stronghold. Kane and his brother’s-in-arms were not treated as heroes or even celebrated that they made it back alive. The whole battle was swept under the rug, to be ignored and forgotten, it was not a memory the City wanted to remember. Kane and his friends called themselves ‘the score’ as there were exactly twenty of them that made it back from the battle. Most of them acquired matching double X tattoos somewhere on their body. ‘The Score’ meet every year during the Great White Festival to honor those lost in the battle and unable to return home.

Kane and the others of The Score assimilated back into society as best they could. Kane couldn’t bring himself to return to working on the building of the city after city seemed to have turned its back on him when he needed it the most. Instead he joined the Temple of Mars, God of War as his past as a soldier was accepted and not questioned. There Kane remained for nearly twenty years learning to be a cleric, a war priest. A balance between soldier and service.

RP Sample:

 

The Great White Festival in Umbra never lasted a few days, it went on for weeks, sometimes a full cycle of the moon if necessary. The dwarves found it a convenient time to mark big life events; marriages, betrothals, milestone birthdays, graduations of professions, coronations or deaths of the royal family. This year was no different than any other really. Umbra was a buzz day and night, parties, gatherings of friends, couples trying to escape for a quiet moment alone. During the day the city was awash in every color under sun with banners and garlands string from every building. At night the city glowed like a cake covered in a million candles.

It did not get any easier. Kane thought it would, but he still got nervous before big events. His stomach churned and turned itself in knots as he waited to be called forward for presentation. This was how his stomach felt went he had been standing in the pike line as the horses came charging across the field twenty years prior. The stead recitation of names was nearly drowned out by his own heartbeat in his ears. It seemed to be fitting that a member of The Score was being graduated as a full cleric twenty years after he first joined.

“Ironfrost, Kane.”

The redheaded dwarf stepped forward across the stage set up in the square in front of the temple, garbed in black and purple robes he knelt before his elders. His name was followed by a short burst of applause and few whistles. Kane tried to hide a smile but couldn’t knowing whom the whistles were coming from. An elderly dwarf with a long, thin, white beard placed a silver chain with a silver pendant around his neck. The pendant had a blazing sword on it. Ashes were spread across his forehead.

Kane retreated to his place in line.

“Brothers and Sisters, you have been anointed by the fire of Mars. Go into the world and serve his people. Serve as defenders, as barriers, as shields. Go, spread the light of Mars into the darkest corners of this world.”

There was polite applause and cheers as the ceremony came to an end. Kane had just reached the bottom of the steps when his twin came up and took him by the arm before he could disappear into the crowded streets of the Festival. Chadri Ironfrost was just a tad shorter than her brother but had a similar stocky build and long auburn hair braided into a crown around her head.

“Congratulations,” Chadri smiled stopping in front of him. She reached up and adjusted his new necklace. “ I made these this year, see,” she flipped the pendant over to show her initials on the back.

Kane raised an eyebrow at her, ”Your reputation is growing if the temple commissioned you,” he replied tucking the holy symbol under his robes.

“Yours would too if you had come back and gone into building again. Papa always said your designs took after great grandfather,’ Chadri retorted.

“I’m an Ironfrost we already have a reputation as masons and smiths I don’t need to keep building on that. I have to go,” he pulled himself from his sister’s gasp turning to leave the square. The sun was beginning to cast long shadows in the city as it just began to set.

‘Oh! Wait, this was left for you at the house,” she trailed after him holding out a letter.

Kane turned back to see she offering him a black letter. He looked at her, then at the letter quizzically. He had only ever seen a few pages of black paper in the books in the temple and those were mostly for inside the book covers. He had never seen anyone write on one before. He took the offered letter, turned it over to see his name written in neat dwarvish lettering.

“Who left it?”

“I wasn’t home. I don’t think anyone was, it just arrived.”
Kane shrugged as he put the letter inside his robes. He had other things on his mind.

**

‘Ah! The newly anointed Cleric arrives!” “All hail brother Kane.” A chorus of cheers went up.

“Very funny Derrick. How many have you had already,” Kane asked as he walked into a small courtyard that was packed with the rest of The Score. The small space they had taken over was in an abandoned section of Upper Umbra, forgotten and out of the way. Just the way The Score liked it.

Cases of wine, kegs of beer, a wheel of cheese and a basket of bread were already distributed among those present. A tankard was pressed into Kane’s hand as he joined his friends in their usual night of revelry and reminiscing.
The sun had set many hours ago but The Score remained in their little haven, lanterns had been lit casting large shadows on the stone walls make the space look even more crowded than it really was.

“Kane, It’s midnight,” Someone slurred.

“Aye, time to read,” another added pounding an empty mug on a barrel. Others took up the chant as well, ‘Read, read.”

Kane let everyone go on for a while until another dwarf pulled him to his feet and pushed him into the center of the space. Kane raised his arms, his black robes making him look like a harbinger of death than a cleric. His friends fell silent as he reached into his robes and pulled out an old leather journal. The black letter had somehow nestled its way into the pages, Kane ignored it for now.

“Alright, alright. I’ll read, but you all know the story-“

“No one tells it better than you Kane!”

“That’s ‘cause I wrote it down unlike some of you illiterate moles.” That comment got a couple beers thrown at him but it was in good humor.

Kane took a deep breath and began to read from the journal penned in his own hand twenty years prior. This was one thing he didn’t get nervous about, “The sun rose red this morning thanks to all the dust and smoke from the previous two days of fighting. The ground was a mix of dirt and blood, the iron scent in the air matched the taste in my mouth. My arms and legs are heavy, I can hardly walk, let alone stand. I have taken a hoof to the chest yesterday. I do not look forward to defending against the cavalry again today. There are less than a third of us remaining and I do not think we will survive another charge.

“It is as I feared it would be, if not worse. Man charged upon the line riding their foul beasts, arrows rained thick from the sky like a down pour. I was surrounded by the bodies of my comrades as a single human wheeled his horse about. I could do nothing to block his strike as he felled me with his flail. The pain in my chest is great and I am unsure if I will survive the night. I write this while I lie on the battlefield, the sun has set. I can hear cries and calls for help, some of them have grown fainter since I began writing. I can do nothing.

“By the Gods I am saved! Derrik and Sienna found me at dawn. Both of them are heavily wounded as well. The three of us plan to walk back to Umbra, if we can. I pray we are not the only survivors…” Kane closed his journal returning it to his robes.

“And here we are, twenty years later, twenty strong. We will not forget what we have been through. This was my story and you all have told yours over the years since we began this gathering. May we meet again next year,” he concluded. They were all silent for a while before slowly reciting the names of those lost, those they could recall. Some years they could recall more names than others.

Returning to his seat Kane retrieved the black letter and turned it over his hands. Looking it over again he did not recall seeing the flower seal on the back. He tried to slide a nail under it but pulled back cutting his finger on one of the petals, a crop of blood landing on the paper. He tried a second time, being a little more careful and managed to get it open. Still nursing the cut on his finger Kane folded the letter open and began to read.

Again the letter was written in dwarvish in the same hand that had addressed it. Lord Mallowar was inviting him to his residence to discuss an urgent matter. Transportation would be available until sunrise outside the city gates. That was today! A few hours really. Why would a Lord want a new cleric? Why not one of his elders or even the King for that matter? Kane questioned the letter reading it again and turning it back over to examine the flower.

“What are you reading? That paper looks blank to me,” Derrik asked sauntering over to Kane.

“It’s a lett- blank?” he asked Derrik looking at his friend.

“yeah I noticed you opened it have been staring it for a while. I can’t see anything though”, he said taking the letter from Kane and holding it up to a lantern. “Hmmm, yeah, maybe’s it’s the paper. I’ve never seen black paper before,’ he replied handing it back. The entire time Derrik had the letter Kane could see the silvery-white ink. What was going on?

“It’s nothing. I should get going, I’m expected at the Temple in the morning,” Kane replied tucking the letter away and saying goodbye to his friends.

What possessed Kane to follow the letter’s invitation, the dwarf did not know. It could have been many factors after such a day that he had had. Regardless he found himself walking out of Upper Umbra just as the sun began to rise a bag on his back, his head buzzing with questions.

A carriage, with an elderly and somewhat thin dwarvish driver dosing in the seat was outside the gate. It was one of several and Kane figure he would start down the line until he found the right one.

“Oi! You sir! Are you sent by Lord Mallowar,” he tapped the dwarf on the leg.

The dwarf woke with a start, “Mallowar? Mallowar? Yes, I am. You the one I’m supposed to take,” the dwarf replied peering down at the cleric. Kane showed him the black letter.

‘Oh ho! Yes indeed. Climb in and we’ll be on our way,” the driver brightened up at the sight of the letter. Moments later Kane was rocking back and forth in the carriage as the driver took off for the Lord Mallowar’s keep.

[GoombaJosh]

Harvish Boarswood Character Sheet https://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=83723 Name: Harvish Boarswood Race: Lightfoot Halfling Class: Rogue (Arcane Trickster) Background: Sage Profession: Brewer History:Harv comes from a long ling of brewers, these Brewers were well respected in the Shire, why they would even trade their brew to the major races but still stay neutral from political affairs. Harv would have been the fifth generation owner of the Boarswood Brewery with its regional favorite Boarswood Lambric. Unfortunately due to the mismanagement from the fourth generation, the Brewery was sold to their major supplier, the Hops. With nowhere to go, he stayed on with the brewery and would travel the region looking for new emerging markets to sell the brew for. Even went to the Empire at some point but it didn't work out well. While visiting another village, he and his cousins at the Boarswood warehouse acquired a few more skills. Skills that capitalized on their natural dexterity and would help them along in big cities and towns. There he learned to find and disarm traps, pick a lock... pick a pocket. He then would travel the region, taking orders of Boarswood Lambic. If his family wasn't going to profit for it, he'd at least do his best to keep the name alive. He supplemented with a picked pocket or lock now and again. Then he found his new calling that of an adventurer. Most had short lifespans, but those that made it, made it rich relatively quickly. His life plan came together. He and his cousins would travel with anybody. Going on adventures, stealing with theirs hearts content, and with the goal to buy back the family business. But all things tend to come at an end, one job they did would be their last. Their tasks was to retrieve an item, in a place called the Shar, they've heard a different name from the Empire, they called it the Citadel. What happened next led to the deaths of Harvish's many cousins and him laying in his own pool of blood. He lies at death's door steps right now, he knew that he would be consumed by whatever inhabits this hellhole but can't help regret that failure to buyback the family business. As he goes closer, and closer to the afterlife, he heard a voice, a graceful and powerful voice. One that he never heard before, "My child, a great injustice has occurred upon you and your bloodline. But fret not for you have my blood within your veins and are thus my descendant, as you lay dead, you shall meet your allys but first I shall unlock the wisdom of the sages that were once from your ancestors and unlock the archaic powers that lay within your bloodline." and just like that, Harvish Boarswood gain powers he never thought of having and gain the knowledge of his ancestors that were great and powerful roguish tricksters of the night. From the knowledge of his forefathers, he knew that he was a being between realms, he knew that he was a Demi God. Whether this was a stroke of luck or a miracle, the Goddess of Fate smiles upon him today, as he finds himself in different planes of existence. Whether his alive or dead, he does not know, with so many questions and confusions, he just doesn't know. But one thing he does now, he picked the adventuring life for a reason. And so he ventures forth into the unknown.

[Vailee]

Cyndra Name: Cyndra Race: Aasimar Class: Sorcerer (Aberrant Mind)/Warlock (Celestial) Profession: Musician Background: Entertainer Apparance: All of Cyndra is white, even her iris's are white under their golden glow. She wears the brightly coloured dress she was killed in and sometimes seems to fade out of existence a little. Personality: As a spirit Cyndra spends a lot of time missing her peaceful and happy childhood. Or at least that's how she remembers it. Being dead she finds little to be happy or peaceful about and comes across as melancholy and pessimistic. Still, she strives to emulate what she remembers of her family and spread joy and happiness through her music. She is very controlled and cautious. While willing to chat with anyone she can be slow to trust. History:   Cyndra spent a lot of time traveling as a child with her parent’s carnival. As she was very young she has little memory of the time. After one too many dangerous near misses with their young children her parents decided to settle down in a “safe” city, with more people than Cyndra had ever seen together during their travels through towns and villages. They’d set up shop, as a family of entertainers. While her parents had done their acts Cyndra had preferred to learn the lyre and play during the acts. She’d multitasked and kept an eye on her younger siblings at the same time. Thankfully the twins were good kids and just as enthralled with the performance as the first time they’d seen it. The family was popular, too popular really. Despite only being on the peripheral of the act Cyndra still caught the attention of a watcher that stumbled onto their performance. This is where things went awry for Cyndra. After living a relatively uneventful and happy life things suddenly went to hell. The watcher approached Cyndra after the show and was not happy with her disinterest. In his refusal to accept her no, he sent her fleeing into parts of the city she’d never been to before. Into parts of the city, she shouldn’t have gone. Into It. A writhing mass of darkness and screaming faces. It had invaded her mind and with a mix of coercion and mind control, taken over her body. She’d been just a puppet to the creature, forced at times to watch helplessly through her own eyes as her body had done horrific things. And at other times to do these things of her own volition out of fear and confused reasoning. It seemed to have a particular fondness for tricking people, or it liked how easy it was made by Cyndra’s aasimar heritage. It had been easy for the thing wearing her body to get people to let their guard down as Cyndra and screw them over. During this time Cyndra was forced to avoid her family. There were only a few times in the beginning that Cyndra was able to gather moments of self-control and visit them. Afraid of what it would do to them she would only hover at the back of the large crowds that gathered for their performances. With her disappearance, they had to hire extra people and from what little glimpses she saw they seemed to be going well. As time passed and Cyndra stopped being able to find the time to see her family. Then things changed abruptly when Cyndra suddenly came to the attention of another being. Or at least Cyndra became aware of the other being. This one told her she was to be their servant, as per a deal her family had made years ago with this being. This didn’t exactly overwhelm Cyndra with excitement, but unlike it, this being showed compassion and Cyndra was soon convinced that this being would be preferable to it. Of course, seeing as Cyndra was already Its slave, she could hardly be the beings servant at the same time. In an effort to fix this, that being helped her wrestle her consciousness free of It. This was not an easy act, and Cyndra spent most of the processes out of her mind in pain. During the process, Cyndra felt something in her mind tear open. For a little while, Cyndra spent some time recuperating and learning her new powers. During this time Cyndra visited the spot her family used to perform in the hopes of seeing them again. Maybe getting the chance to talk and explain her absence. To her dismay, her family had moved away. Their heartbreak at her loss had tainted their memories of the place and with their younger children able to look after themselves they took off traveling again. Despite their near misses, they hadn’t lost anyone while traveling. She also found that she'd managed to build up a myth about a cruel aasimar that haunted the area around its home, where It used to send her out. But this peaceful time in Cyndra’s life was cut short by it. At first, It just sent its minions and slaves after her. Even with the little time she’d had to learn her new skills, Cyndra managed to hold them off. It got to the point that Cyndra couldn’t do anything without someone popping up to try and kill her or drag her back. Frustrated, Cyndra made the reckless decision to take the fight to it. This ended up being a bad decision. Despite her time recuperating Cyndra’s mind was still fragile and she found herself succumbing to its onslaught. And then, to her horror, she’d felt It trying to absorb her consciousness. To make her another one of it’s endlessly screaming faces. To her eternal gratefulness, her patron had stepped in. Taking pity on her maybe, the being ripped her from its cold embrace and sent her onto the afterlife, out of its reach. Due to her actions while under It’s control Cyndra found herself in the Asphodel Meadows, one of the damned.

[JaredSyn]

[FIELDSET="Character Application"]

Theris
Warlock 7 (Pact of the Tome)

Name: Theris
Class: Warlock 7 (pact of the Tome)
Profession: Calligrapher
Background: Guild Artisan
Appearance & Personality:
Theris is a handsome young man as long as you can see past the red tinged skin and horns protruding from each side of his head. His eyes are a bright yellow in color and his dark grey hair is worn long and loose past his shoulders. He is average height standing five foot eleven inches in height and weighing a slender 172 pounds.

He is outgoing and friendly to others so long as they are the same to him in turn or first. Growing up in a guild hall he had the opportunity to train with people of many different races which allows him to get along with mostly anyone, and has no real prejudices against any race. HE is not always quick to make friends but once he does he would do anything to aid a friend in need. At the same time he has a good memory and is not one to forget those who offer offense either.

Personality Traits: "I believe that anything worth doing is worth doing right. I can’t help it — I’m a perfectionist."
"I always want to know how things work and what makes people tick."

Ideal: "People. I’m committed to the people I care about, not to ideals. (Neutral)"

Bond: "I owe my guild a great debt for forging me into the person I am today."

Flaw: "I’m never satisfied with what I have — I always want more."


Background:
Theris never knew his parents having been abandoned by his mother when he was first born. Left on the doorstep of the Calligraphers guild, the very same day of his birth. The elderly Chief Scholar had never had children and upon finding the child chose to take him in. For Theris growing up in the confines of the guild afforded him an excellent education and a trade when he came of age. Theris took to his studies but never truly excelled in them. Still he always did his best to earn his mentor and adoptive father's respect.

As Theris grew he began to notice things about himself that others were not capable of doing. Many who studied in the guild hall also practiced magic as well, or worked as Sages. Theris though seemed to have an innate connection with magic different from the other arcane or divine casters. Confused and curious Theris set to try and determine what was different about him in comparison to others who practiced magic. Of course there was the obvious fact of his birth after all tiefling were not overly common, and most believed his abilities were deep seated evil manifesting itself.

Theris though knew the power he could wield did not make him evil or that it came from an evil source. At least he did not nor does he now believe he is inherently evil. In fact he is quite confident he was born to help others in any way he can, all while advancing his own knowledge of the vast world he lived in. Upon reaching adulthood, his guild training complete, His Mentor gave him a book he had discovered during his adventuring days, and had never fully understood. Theris thanked him, and said his goodbyes, eager to find his way in the world and learn all he could about who and what he was, and where he truly belonged.

The adventuring life was difficult at best when he first set out, but over time he learned his way. Taking jobs here and there sometimes adventuring others working in the local guild where he had stopped long enough to earn enough coin to continue his travels. It was during one of his stops that he found the true purpose of the book given to him, allowing him to take the spells of other casters and transcribe them into the book to later cast the spells himself. Using his new found skills he continued to adventure and travel always eager to find more spells to add to his book, and increase his knowledge and power.

 

Theris [size=1]Male Tiefling Warlock 5 (Pact of the Tome)(Character Sheet) AC: 18 ♦ HP: (52/52) ♦ Initiative: +2 Other Defense: BR, pg. 43 You have resistance to fire damage.Hellish Resistance Proficiencies: Deception +7, Insight +4, Intimidation +7, Persuasion +7, Class/Racial Abilities: PHB, pg. 109 When you reduce a hostile creature to 0 HP, you gain 9 temp HP.Dark One's Blessing | PHB, pg. 107 You learn fragments of forbidden knowledge that imbue you with an abiding magical ability.Eldritch Invocations | PHB110 When you cast eldritch blast, add +4 to the damage it deals on a hit.Agonizing Blast | PHB110 You can now learn and cast ritual spells from any class's spell list in your Book of Shadows. Detect Magic(1st), Find Familiar(1st), Identify(1st), Unseen Servant(1st), Magic Mouth(2nd), Leomund’s Tiny Hut(3rd), Water Breathing(3rd),Book of Ancient Secrets | PHB110 You can see normally in darkness, both magical and nonmagical, to a distance of 120 ft.Devil's Sight | PHB, pg. 107 Your otherworldly patron bestows a gift upon you for your loyal service. Pact of the Tome Your patron gives you a grimoire called a Book of Shadows that grants you additional cantrips that don't count against your number of cantrips known. If you lose the book, you can perform a 1-hour ceremony to receive a replacement during a short or long rest. Chill Touch(Cantrip), Message(Cantrip), Minor Illusion(Cantrip)Pact Boon BR, pg. 43 You can see in darkness (shades of gray) up to 60 ft.Darkvision | BR, pg. 43 You have resistance to fire damage.Hellish Resistance | You know the thaumaturgy cantrip. [3rd] You can cast hellish rebuke (2nd) once per long rest. [5th] You can cast darkness once per long rest. CHA is your spellcasting ability.Infernal Legacy | Starting at 6th level, you can call on your patron to alter fate in your favor. When you make an ability check or a saving throw, you can use this feature to add a d10 to your roll. You can do so after seeing the initial roll but before any of the roll’s effects occur. Once you use this feature, yDark One's Own Luck Senses Darkvision 120 ft. | Passive Perception 11 | Passive Investigation 10 | Passive Wisdom 14 | Languages Common, Draconic, Infernal, ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Melee: +5 to hit / 1d4+2 Dagger | +2 to hit / 1D6-1 Handaxe | +2 to hit / 1D6-1 Quarterstaff Ranged: +9 to hit / 2D8Chill Touch | +9 to hit / 1d10+4Eldritch Blast Special Equipment: You gain a +1 bonus to AC and saving throws while you wear this cloak.Cloak of Protection | This backpack has a central pouch and two side pouches, each of which is an extradimensional space. Each side pouch can hold up to 20 pounds of material, not exceeding a volume of 2 cubic feet. The large central pouch can hold up to 8 cubic feet or 80 pounds of material. The backpack always weighs 5 pounds, regardless of its contents. Placing an object in the haversack follows the normal rules for interacting with objects. Retrieving an item from the haversack requires you to use an action. When you reach into the haversack for a specific item, the item is always magically on top. The haversack has a few limitations. If it is overloaded, or if a sharp object pierces it or tears it, the haversack ruptures and is destroyed. If the haversack is destroyed, its contents are lost forever, although an artifact always turns up again somewhere. If the haversack is turned inside out, its contents spill forth, unharmed, and the haversack must be put right before it can be used again. If a breathing creature is placed within the haversack, the creature can survive for up to 10 minutes, after which time it begins to suffocate. Placing the haversack inside an extradimensional space created by a bag of holding, portable hole, or similar item instantly destroys both items and opens a gate to the Astral Plane. The gate originates where the one item was placed inside the other. Any creature within 10 feet of the gate is sucked through it and deposited in a random location on the Astral Plane. The gate then closes. The gate is one-way only and can't be reopened.Heward's Handy Haversack | You gain a +1 bonus to AC and saving throws while wearing this ring.Ring of Protection | While holding this rod, you gain a +2 bonus to spell attack rolls and to the saving throw DCs of your warlock spells. In addition, you can regain 1 warlock spell slot as an action while holding the rod. You can’t use this property again until you finish a long rest.Rod of the Pact Keeper +2 | You gain a +1 bonus to AC while you wear this armor. You are considered proficient with this armor even if you lack proficiency with medium armor.Elven Chain | 4D4+43 Great Healing Potions | 10D4 3 spell slots restored.Supreme Restoration Potion Spells (+9, DC17) Cantrips Casting Time: 1 action Range/Area: 120ft. Components: V, S Duration: 1 round Source: PHB, pg. 221 You create a ghostly, skeletal hand in the space of a creature within range. Make a ranged spell attack against the creature to assail it with the chill of the grave. On a hit, the target takes 1d8 necrotic damage, and it can't regain hit points until the start of your next turn. Until then, the hand clings to the target. If you hit an undead target, it also has disadvantage on attack rolls against you until the end of your next turn. This spell's damage increases by 1d8 when you reach 5th level (2d8), 11th level (3d8), and 17th level (4d8).Chill Touch | Casting Time: 1 action Range: 120 feet Components: V, S Duration: Instantaneous A beam of crackling energy streaks toward a creature within range. Make a ranged spell attack against the target. On a hit, the target takes 1d10 force damage. At Higher Levels. The spell creates more than one beam when you reach higher levels: two beams at 5th level, three beams at 11th level, and four beams at 17th level. You can direct the beams at the same target or at different ones. Make a separate attack roll for each beam.Eldritch Blast | 1 action Range/Area: 30ft. Components: V, S Duration: 1 minute Source: PHB, pg. 256 A spectral, floating hand appears at a point you choose within range. The hand lasts for the duration or until you dismiss it as an action. The hand vanishes if it is ever more than 30 feet away from you or if you cast this spell again. You can use your action to control the hand. You can use the hand to manipulate an object, open an unlocked door or container, stow or retrieve an item from an open container, or pour the contents out of a vial. You can move the hand up to 30 feet each time you use it. The hand can't attack, activate magic items, or carry more than 10 pounds.Mage Hand | Casting Time: 1 Action Range/Area: 120ft. Components: V, S, M(a short piece of copper wire) Duration: 1 round Source: PHB, pg. 259 You point your finger toward a creature within range and whisper a message. The target (and only the target) hears the message and can reply in a whisper that only you can hear. You can cast this spell through solid objects if you are familiar with the target and know it is beyond the barrier. Magical silence, 1 foot of stone, 1 inch of common metal, a thin sheet of lead, or 3 feet of wood blocks the spell. The spell doesn't have to follow a straight line and can travel freely around corners or through openings.Message | Casting Time: 1 action Range: 30 feet Components: S, M (a bit of fleece) Duration: 1 minute You create a sound or an image of an object within range that lasts for the duration. The illusion also ends if you dismiss it as an action or cast this spell again. If you create a sound, its volume can range from a whisper to a scream. It can be your voice, someone else’s voice, a lion’s roar, a beating of drums, or any other sound you choose. The sound continues unabated throughout the duration, or you can make discrete sounds at different times before the spell ends. If you create an image of an object—such as a chair, muddy footprints, or a small chest—it must be no larger than a 5-foot cube. The image can’t create sound, light, smell, or any other sensory effect. Physical interaction with the image reveals it to be an illusion, because things can pass through it. If a creature uses its action to examine the sound or image, the creature can determine that it is an illusion with a successful Intelligence (Investigation) check against your spell save DC. If a creature discerns the illusion for what it is, the illusion becomes faint to the creature.Minor Illusion | Casting Time: 1 action Range: 30 feet Components: V Duration: Up to 1 minute You manifest a minor wonder, a sign of supernatural power, within range. You create one of the following magical effects within range: • Your voice booms up to three times as loud as normal for 1 minute. • You cause flames to flicker, brighten, dim, or change color for 1 minute. • You cause harmless tremors in the ground for 1 minute. • You create an instantaneous sound that originates from a point of your choice within range, such as a rumble of thunder, the cry of a raven, or ominous whispers. • You instantaneously cause an unlocked door or window to fly open or slam shut. • You alter the appearance of your eyes for 1 minute. If you cast this spell multiple times, you can have up to three of its 1-minute effects active at a time, and you can dismiss such an effect as an action.Thaumaturgy | Casting Time: 1 action Range/Area: 60ft. Components: V, S Duration: Instantaneous Attack/Save: WIS 15 Source: XGtE, pg. 169 You point at one creature you can see within range, and the sound of a dolorous bell fills the air around it for a moment. The target must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw or take 1d8 necrotic damage. If the target is missing any of its hit points, it instead takes 1d12 necrotic damage. The spell’s damage increases by one die when you reach 5th level (2d8 or 2d12), 11th level (3d8 or 3d12), and 17th level (4d8 or 4d12).Toll the Dead Spell Slots: 2 Level 1 Casting Time: 1 action + 10 minutes Range/Area: Self/30ft. Components: V, S Duration: Concentration, up to 10 minutes Source: PHB, pg. 231 For the duration, you sense the presence of magic within 30 feet of you. If you sense magic in this way, you can use your action to see a faint aura around any visible creature or object in the area that bears magic, and you learn its school of magic, if any. The spell can penetrate most barriers, but it is blocked by 1 foot of stone, 1 inch of common metal, a thin sheet of lead, or 3 feet of wood or dirt.Detect Magic (R) | Casting Time: 1 hour + 10 minutes Range/Area: 10ft. Components: V, S, M(10 gp worth of charcoal, incense, and herbs that must be consumed by fire in a brass brazier) Duration: Instantaneous Source: PHB, pg. 240 You gain the service of a familiar, a spirit that takes an animal form you choose: bat, cat, crab, frog (toad), hawk, lizard, octopus, owl, poisonous snake, fish (quipper), rat, raven, sea horse, spider, or weasel. Appearing in an unoccupied space within range, the familiar has the statistics of the chosen form, though it is a celestial, fey, or fiend (your choice) instead of a beast. Your familiar acts independently of you, but it always obeys your commands. In combat, it rolls its own initiative and acts on its own turn. A familiar can't attack, but it can take other actions as normal. When the familiar drops to 0 hit points, it disappears, leaving behind no physical form. It reappears after you cast this spell again. While your familiar is within 100 feet of you, you can communicate with it telepathically. Additionally, as an action, you can see through your familiar's eyes and hear what it hears until the start of your next turn, gaining the benefits of any special senses that the familiar has. During this time, you are deaf and blind with regard to your own senses. As an action, you can temporarily dismiss your familiar. It disappears into a pocket dimension where it awaits your summons. Alternatively, you can dismiss it forever. As an action while it is temporarily dismissed, you can cause it to reappear in any unoccupied space within 30 feet of you. You can't have more than one familiar at a time. If you cast this spell while you already have a familiar, you instead cause it to adopt a new form. Choose one of the forms from the above list. Your familiar transforms into the chosen creature. Finally, when you cast a spell with a range of touch, your familiar can deliver the spell as if it had cast the spell. Your familiar must be within 100 feet of you, and it must use its reaction to deliver the spell when you cast it. If the spell requires an attack roll, you use your attack modifier for the roll.Find Familiar (R) | Casting Time: 11 minutes Range/Area: Touch Components: V, S, M(a pearl worth at least 100 gp and an owl feather) Duration: Instantaneous Source: PHB, pg. 252 You choose one object that you must touch throughout the casting of the spell. If it is a magic item or some other magic-imbued object, you learn its properties and how to use them, whether it requires attunement to use, and how many charges it has, if any. You learn whether any spells are affecting the item and what they are. If the item was created by a spell, you learn which spell created it. If you instead touch a creature throughout the casting, you learn what spells, if any, are currently affecting it.Identify (R) | Casting Time: 1 action + 10 minutes Range/Area: 60ft. Components: V, S, M(a bit of string and of wood) Duration: 1 hour Source: PHB, pg. 284 This spell creates an invisible, mindless, shapeless, Medium force that performs simple tasks at your command until the spell ends. The servant springs into existence in an unoccupied space on the ground within range. It has AC 10, 1 hit point, and a Strength of 2, and it can't attack. If it drops to 0 hit points, the spell ends. Once on each of your turns as a bonus action, you can mentally command the servant to move up to 15 feet and interact with an object. The servant can perform simple tasks that a human servant could do, such as fetching things, cleaning, mending, folding clothes, lighting fires, serving food, and pouring wine. Once you give the command, the servant performs the task to the best of its ability until it completes the task, then waits for your next command. If you command the servant to perform a task that would move it more than 60 feet away from you, the spell ends. (R)Unseen Servant (R) Level 2 Casting Time: 1 action Range/Area: 60ft./15ft. Components: V, M(bat fur and a drop of pitch or piece of coal) Duration: Concentration, up to 10 minutes Source: PHB, pg. 230 Magical darkness spreads from a point you choose within range to fill a 15-foot-radius sphere for the duration. The darkness spreads around corners. A creature with darkvision can't see through this darkness, and nonmagical light can't illuminate it. If the point you choose is on an object you are holding or one that isn't being worn or carried, the darkness emanates from the object and moves with it. Completely covering the source of the darkness with an opaque object, such as a bowl or a helm, blocks the darkness. If any of this spell's area overlaps with an area of light created by a spell of 2nd level or lower, the spell that created the light is dispelled.Darkness | Casting Time: 1 reaction, which you take in response to being damaged by a creature within 60 feet of you that you can see Range/Area: 60ft. Components: V, S Duration: Instantaneous Attack/Save: DEX 15 Source: PHB, pg. 250 You point your finger, and the creature that damaged you is momentarily surrounded by hellish flames. The creature must make a Dexterity saving throw. It takes 2d10 fire damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one. At Higher Levels. When you cast this spell using a spell slot of 2nd level or higher, the damage increases by 1d10 for each slot level above 1st.Hellish Rebuke | Casting Time: 11 minutes Range/Area: 30ft. Components: V, S, M(a small bit of honeycomb and jade dust worth at least 10 gp, which the spell consumes) Duration: Until dispelled Source: PHB, pg. 257 You implant a message within an object in range, a message that is uttered when a trigger condition is met. Choose an object that you can see and that isn't being worn or carried by another creature. Then speak the message, which must be 25 words or less, though it can be delivered over as long as 10 minutes. Finally, determine the circumstance that will trigger the spell to deliver your message. When that circumstance occurs, a magical mouth appears on the object and recites the message in your voice and at the same volume you spoke. If the object you chose has a mouth or something that looks like a mouth (for example, the mouth of a statue), the magical mouth appears there so that the words appear to come from the object's mouth. When you cast this spell, you can have the spell end after it delivers its message, or it can remain and repeat its message whenever the trigger occurs. The triggering circumstance can be as general or as detailed as you like, though it must be based on visual or audible conditions that occur within 30 feet of the object. For example, you could instruct the mouth to speak when any creature moves within 30 feet of the object or when a silver bell rings within 30 feet of it.Magic Mouth (R) Level 3 1 action Range/Area: 120ft. Components: V, S Duration: Concentration, up to 1 minute Attack/Save: INT 15 Source: XGtE, pg. 155 You reach into the mind of one creature you can see and force it to make an Intelligence saving throw. A creature automatically succeeds if it is immune to being frightened. On a failed save, the target loses the ability to distinguish friend from foe, regarding all creatures it can see as enemies until the spell ends. Each time the target takes damage, it can repeat the saving throw, ending the effect on itself on a success. Whenever the affected creature chooses another creature as a target, it must choose the target at random from among the creatures it can see within range of the attack, spell, or other ability it’s using. If an enemy provokes an opportunity attack from the affected creature, the creature must make that attack if it is able to.Enemies Abound | Casting Time: 1 action Range/Area: Touch Components: V, S, M(a wing feather from any bird) Duration: Concentration, up to 10 minutes Source: PHB, pg. 243 You touch a willing creature. The target gains a flying speed of 60 feet for the duration. When the spell ends, the target falls if it is still aloft, unless it can stop the fall. At Higher Levels. When you cast this spell using a spell slot of 4th level or higher, you can target one additional creature for each slot level above 3rd.Fly | Casting Time: 1 bonus action Range/Area: 90ft. Components: V, S, M(the petrified eye of a newt) Duration: Concentration, up to 1 hour Source: PHB, pg. 251 You place a curse on a creature that you can see within range. Until the spell ends, you deal an extra 1d6 necrotic damage to the target whenever you hit it with an attack. Also, choose one ability when you cast the spell. The target has disadvantage on ability checks made with the chosen ability. If the target drops to 0 hit points before this spell ends, you can use a bonus action on a subsequent turn of yours to curse a new creature. A remove curse cast on the target ends this spell early. At Higher Levels. When you cast this spell using a spell slot of 3rd or 4th level, you can maintain your concentration on the spell for up to 8 hours. When you use a spell slot of 5th level or higher, you can maintain your concentration on the spell for up to 24 hours.Hex | Casting Time: 1 action Range/Area: 120ft./30ft. Components: S, M(a glowing stick of incense or a crystal vial filled with phosphorescent material) Duration: Concentration, up to 1 minute Attack/Save: WIS 15 Source: PHB, pg. 252 You create a twisting pattern of colors that weaves through the air inside a 30-foot cube within range. The pattern appears for a moment and vanishes. Each creature in the area who sees the pattern must make a Wisdom saving throw. On a failed save, the creature becomes charmed for the duration. While charmed by this spell, the creature is incapacitated and has a speed of 0. The spell ends for an affected creature if it takes any damage or if someone else uses an action to shake the creature out of its stupor.Hypnotic Pattern | Casting Time: 1 action Range/Area: Touch Components: V, S, M(an eyelash encased in gum arabic) Duration: Concentration, up to 1 hour Source: PHB, pg. 254 A creature you touch becomes invisible until the spell ends. Anything the target is wearing or carrying is invisible as long as it is on the target's person. The spell ends for a target that attacks or casts a spell. At Higher Levels. When you cast this spell using a spell slot of 3rd level or higher, you can target one additional creature for each slot level above 2nd.Invisibility | Casting Time: 11 minutes Range/Area: Self/10ft. Components: V, S, M(a small crystal bead) Duration: 8 hours Source: PHB, pg. 255 A 10-foot-radius immobile dome of force springs into existence around and above you and remains stationary for the duration. The spell ends if you leave its area. Nine creatures of Medium size or smaller can fit inside the dome with you. The spell fails if its area includes a larger creature or more than nine creatures. Creatures and objects within the dome when you cast this spell can move through it freely. All other creatures and objects are barred from passing through it. Spells and other magical effects can’t extend through the dome or be cast through it. The atmosphere inside the space is comfortable and dry, regardless of the weather outside. Until the spell ends, you can command the interior to become dimly lit or dark. The dome is opaque from the outside, of any color you choose, but it is transparent from the inside.Leomund's Tiny Hut (R) | Casting Time: 1 action Range/Area: Self Components: V, S Duration: 1 minute Source: PHB, pg. 260 Three illusory duplicates of yourself appear in your space. Until the spell ends, the duplicates move with you and mimic your actions, shifting position so it's impossible to track which image is real. You can use your action to dismiss the illusory duplicates. Each time a creature targets you with an attack during the spell's duration, roll a d20 to determine whether the attack instead targets one of your duplicates. If you have three duplicates, you must roll a 6 or higher to change the attack's target to a duplicate. With two duplicates, you must roll an 8 or higher. With one duplicate, you must roll an 11 or higher. A duplicate's AC equals 10 + your Dexterity modifier. If an attack hits a duplicate, the duplicate is destroyed. A duplicate can be destroyed only by an attack that hits it. It ignores all other damage and effects. The spell ends when all three duplicates are destroyed. A creature is unaffected by this spell if it can't see, if it relies on senses other than sight, such as blindsight, or if it can perceive illusions as false, as with truesight.Mirror Image Level 4 Casting Time: 1 action Range/Area: 500ft. Components: V Duration: Instantaneous Source: PHB, pg. 233 You teleport yourself from your current location to any other spot within range. You arrive at exactly the spot desired. It can be a place you can see, one you can visualize, or one you can describe by stating distance and direction, such as "200 feet straight downward" or "upward to the northwest at a 45- degree angle, 300 feet." You can bring along objects as long as their weight doesn't exceed what you can carry. You can also bring one willing creature of your size or smaller who is carrying gear up to its carrying capacity. The creature must be within 5 feet of you when you cast this spell. If you would arrive in a place already occupied by an object or a creature, you and any creature traveling with you each take 4d6 force damage, and the spell fails to teleport you.Dimension Door | Casting Time: 1 action Range/Area: 120ft. Components: V, S, M(a small piece of phosphorus) Duration: Concentration, up to 1 minute Attack/Save: DEX 15 Source: PHB, pg. 285 You create a wall of fire on a solid surface within range. You can make the wall up to 60 feet long, 20 feet high, and 1 foot thick, or a ringed wall up to 20 feet in diameter, 20 feet high, and 1 foot thick. The wall is opaque and lasts for the duration. When the wall appears, each creature within its area must make a Dexterity saving throw. On a failed save, a creature takes 5d8 fire damage, or half as much damage on a successful save. One side of the wall, selected by you when you cast this spell, deals 5d8 fire damage to each creature that ends its turn within 10 feet of that side or inside the wall. A creature takes the same damage when it enters the wall for the first time on a turn or ends its turn there. The other side of the wall deals no damage. At Higher Levels. When you cast this spell using a spell slot of 5th level or higher, the damage increases by 1d8 for each slot level above 4th.Wall of Fire |   Imp (Zypher) Tiny fiend (devil), lawful evil Armor Class 13 Hit Points 10 (3d4 + 3) Speed 20 ft., fly 40 ft. STR 6 (-2); DEX 17 (+3); CON 13 (+1); INT 11 (+0); WIS 12 (+1); CHA 14 (+2) Skills Deception +4, Insight +3, Persuasion +4, Stealth +5 Damage Resistances Cold; Bludgeoning, Piercing, and Slashing from Nonmagical Attacks that aren't Silvered Damage Immunities Fire, Poison Condition Immunities Poisoned Senses Darkvision 120 ft., Passive Perception 11 Languages Common, Infernal Shapechanger. The imp can use its action to polymorph into a beast form that resembles a rat (speed 20 ft.), a raven (20 ft., fly 60 ft.), or a spider (20 ft., climb 20 ft.), or back into its true form. Its statistics are the same in each form, except for the speed changes noted. Any equipment it is wearing or carrying isn't ransformed. It reverts to its true form if it dies. Devil's Sight. Magical darkness doesn't impede the imp's darkvision. Magic Resistance. The imp has advantage on saving throws against spells and other magical effects. Actions Sting (Bite in Beast Form). Melee Weapon Attack: +5 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: +0 (1d4 + 3) piercing damage, and the target must make a DC 11 Constitution saving throw, taking 10 (2d6) poison damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one. Invisibility. The imp magically turns invisible until it attacks or until its concentration ends (as if concentrating on a spell). Any equipment the imp wears or carries is invisible with it.

[Avner]

Nozorami Raine Name: Nozorami Raine Class: Fighter (Samurai) Profession: Shipwright Background: Skill proficiencies: History, Perception Tool proficiencies: Carpenter’s tools, Vehicles (water) Equipment: a set of well-loved carpenter’s tools, a blank book, 1 ounce of ink, and ink pen, a set of traveler’s clothes and a belt pouch containing 10GP Feature: I’ll patch it! Provided you have carpenter’s tools and wood, you can perform repairs on a water vehicle. When you use this ability, you restore a number of hit points to the hull of a water vehicle equal to 5 times your proficiency modifier. A vehicle cannot be patched by you in this way again until after it has been pulled ashore and fully repaired.Shipwright Deity: Clotho, Goddess of Fate Appearance & Personality: Nozorami Raine is a follower of Clotho and as such wears much of the oriental themed garb that she has inspired within her following. Wearing a Hakama style robe with a top knot on the back of his head he has a very specific style. On his side he wears his katana which is his primary weapon of battle. Nozorami does not follow nations, he follows men and takes and promises he makes very seriously, however he is always one to enjoy a good moment when one can be had. A small sketchbook is always found with him where he captures his latest designs for what he declares is the one ship even a demon horde couldn't sink. A believer in fate he believes that the goddess will guide him to what he needs to create such a ship. Personality Traits: I love sketching and designing objects, especially boats. A pipe, an ale, and the smell of the sea: paradise Ideal: Hope. The horizon at sea holds the greatest promise Bond: I will craft a boat capable of sailing through the most dangerous of storms. Flaw: I get frustrated to the point of distraction by shoddy craftsmanship. Backstory: The boy named Nozorami Raine grew up on a small village in the Northwestern continent near the seas and lakes of the northernmost part of the area. It was there that he grew a love for the sea. Although it was not the sea itself that grabbed his fascination but the ships that glided across it. Kaniko Raine, Nozarami's father was a fisherman and every day he would take his boy to the docks while he would go out for his early morning rounds. Nozorami would stay on the docks watching the various boats leaving and returning and sketching each and every one of them. As he got older he learned that he had a knack for working the wood they had been crafted from, and he quickly got work patching the ships as he made them whole again. Soon he was designing his own shifts with only the opportunity keeping him back from one day building his own perfect ship. Nozorami made friends with the other kids in town and everyone seemed to measure everyone else based on their ability to pull their own weight. They even had a few refugees, orcs and half-breeds who were without home or place that would accept them. The town took them in and put them to work. The town orc known as Mazog was considered 'their orc' and the guy to go to whenever you need some heavy lifting done. He would often be hauling large nets of fits from the docks to the market while Nozorami had been sketching, and they enjoyed a morning routine of the boy sparing some extra bread and sausages for the orc from his breakfast. Despite his talents and success the world of the sea was as dark as any other in Prym and the presence of the vengeance seeking demons were always a threat. Mostly they had kept to the central continent and the wild sea but recently they had become more bold. That was when the raids began. Reports of such raids had been coming from all up and down the northern towns and cities. The Emperor had even begun to send out patrols in support of the towns to identify the truth of such rumors but the towns had been burnt to ash before they had been able to come across the ones doing so. Kaninko, Nozorami's father, was a man of the sea and therefore had a great respect for the unpredictible nature of the sea. He had subscribed to the respectful worship of the Goddess of Fate knowing that the spirit of chance was in her hands. As such he had raised Nozorami to not only act in accordance with those beliefs but also to dress in the style of the goddess and to practice the ancient art of swordsmanship inspired by her. It was because of these lessons, taught as a patronage tot the Goddess Clotho, that Nozorami had been prepared when the demons came. It began in the evening when the ships were in harbor and most were asleep. Nozorami woke up to the screaming as he ran out of his small village home to see what he could do. Running to the docks they found demons making port and working to destroy the fleet before plundering the town. Mazog had already stepped in to defend his home and Nozorami quickly joined slowing down the demons long enough for the Emperor's forces to finally catch them in the act. Much of the town was destroyed and many were dead but the demons had been fought back by the Imperial forces and one of the captains had caught interest in the young swordsman. The captain was more than what he seemed for he was part of the boy emperor's intelligence network. The captain had been looking for someone outside the military who could be trusted to gather intel not to be shared with those around them. As with many lords he had his own network, but also secretly served the emperor by feeding him information. Nozorami had lost his father in the raid and his mother had left them while he was still at a young age. All he had left was Mazog so it wasn't a hard decision to take up work with the captain who had saved the village. Not letting any know he would take up various task from time to time, relaying a message, acquiring certain packages, feeding back rumors and the like and before he knew it he was getting an audience with the Emperor. The Emperor had asked the lord for someone loyal and Nozorami had been recommended. That moment would change the course of Nozorami Raine's life forever.   Interview with the Emperor Nozarami adjusted his robe as he stood in the corridor before the grand hall. Looking back on his simple life as a shipwright he was not quite sure how he had gotten to this point. Sure the attack on the village had let to him aiding the captain, but the Emperor? That was something he had never asked for, Clotho had to be up to something. "The Emperor will see you now." a guard at the door said before opening the passage and letting him in. The captain had warned him to be on his best behavior, but Noz could not wrap his head around why everyone would blindly align to a government such as the Northern Empire, there was as much bad as good he suspected. As he walked in to the throne room he gave a bow and took a knee before the emperor. "Rise." the boy said before looking around the room. "The rest of you, you are dismissed." Noz rose looking around with confusion. "but my Emperor what if her wishes to harm you...?" "I said leave." he insists inspiring everyone in the room to exit. In the moment that followed tings seemed to relax. "Well that is much better, now we can be candid with each other. You come under good recommendation from a mutual friend." he began. "In all due respect my Emperor it seems everyone wants to be your friend." "No they want my power. to siphon what little power they can from my position. A true friend is hard to come by." he suggested. "Now as you know we face dark times. To aggravate that I seem to have shaken things up when I refuse to admit that a human is not inherently superior to my other subjects. I've ruffled some feathers." "Some feathers are made to be ruffled your Excellency." the shipwright answered. "Indeed, oh I like you." he said with a smile. "What this comes down to is I need someone I can trust. Do you trust me?" "Not a lick, but I don't hate you.. you seem less pompous than the other nobles." Noz answered. "You also seem to not be off your rocker. I've never been one for Empires, but as you say there are some people who want power for the wrong reasons. I don't think you are one of those people. I don't believe in kindgdoms or Empires... I believe in people." "Good we have an understanding. I wish for you to serve me and not the Empire. I intend to earn your trust but first I need you to do something for me. I need you to deliver a message. " he suggests. "Sounds simple enough. What's the message." The Emperor reaches in his pocket and pulls out a letter decorated with an intricate seal. "There is a lot more to this than it appears, but if you truly support my image of the Northern Empire, please do this for me." Noz reaches up and tentatively takes the letter. He knew he was in the muck of it now. "Consider it done."

[Strange2099]

Fallen Angel (Child Oracle) Character name: An'ne Liyana Theme Song Alternate theme Modern Ultra Modern Lament for An'ne Liyana's Totem Race: Aasimar (Protector) Class: Cleric (Oracle) Alignment: Neutral Good Background: You have spent your life in the service of a temple to a specific god or pantheon of gods. You act as an intermediary between the realm of the holy and the mortal world, performing sacred rites and offering sacrifices in order to conduct worshipers into the presence of the divine. You are not necessarily a cleric – performing sacred rites is not the same thing as channeling divine power.Acolyte Sheet: https://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=87498 Concept: Child Oracle who provided aid to the mortals in their fight against the evil goddess, her actions construed a violation of the Non-Interference Pact decreed by Poseidon and so she was punished with banishment from the Heavens. Even though she, herself, is a daughter of Cronos (god of prophecy), she thus "Fell" to the world of Pyrn as a mortal Aasimar (of divine heritage) as punishment by the gods. Now a mortal and no longer bound by the gods' Pact of Non-Interference, she is free to act directly on the mortals' behalf as one of them. She is not accustomed to direct, physical combat; but serves a role to guide and protect via her prophetic visions and angelic abilities (divinations, healing, blessings, etc.). Although still formidable in power and abilities, her descent to mortality left her with gaps in memory and knowledge. She was found within a Temple of Cronos after her initial fall, where the Temple Order cared for and exalted her as a child cleric and ambassador of the Prophecy deity. Thusly shielded from general society, she has yet to fully acclimate to “normal life” and is still highly dependent on others to function as a mortal. Appearance: Small, young, slightly immature and still developing, An'ne has the energy and frailty of a young girl. She looks and sounds like a normal human, which helps to hide her identity within the mortal world. She usually wears her black hair hidden under a cloak and hood, while a veil often hides her tanned skin and olive eyes. Her clothing is typically white, though on occasion she employs a red robe for temple ceremonies that invoke the favor of Cronos, her father and the God of Prophecy. Eyes = Green Hair = Black Height = 4'7" Weight = 89 lbs. Skin = Lightly Tanned Personality: Since her "arrival" as a Mortal and being taken in by the Temple Order, she’s grown used to everyone catering to her every need and doing whatever she wants, though she understands the relationship as two-way with the fulfillment of her part in an implicit pact. So, she’s not selfish or arrogant (maybe a little arrogant as she might inherently see everyone else as inferior to her, especially given her previous life as a Celestial) but simply reliant on others to take care of her and guide her for mundane things, as she guides them in the higher-order things. Traits: #1) Lingering Divinity - Not yet fully adjusted to life as a mortal. Has many 'quirks' that result from her former nature as a celestial (e.g., she detests eating meat, and chewing food, in general). #2) Pacifist Tendencies - she is inherently afraid of physical violence. Although she understands the necessity in the fight against Evil, she is still upset at the sight of blood. Ideal: Divine Obligation - It is my duty to guide and care for the people beneath me. (Good). Bond: The Evil Goddess must be defeated to restore the sanctity of life and the Balance of Order. Flaws: #1) Bound by Fate - she has trouble understanding the concept of "free will". #2) Entitlement of Innocence - After being catered for since her arrival, her memories of being a celestial angel linger and she often (usually?) thinks that others should naturally protect and provide for her, while she fulfills her responsibility to offer them her Vision and Guidance (and lead others in the correct path of the gods). Backstory: An'ne was born an Angel. As a young Celestial of the Heavens, upon completion of her education her role would have been to assist her mother and father by planting dreams into the minds of sleeping mortals. She enjoyed the practice of taking the Prophecies she learned from her father (Cronos, god of Prophecy) and infusing them into the Dreams of mortals as taught by her mother (Ruya, goddess of Dreams). One day, she got a little overzealous in her activities. An'ne frequently heard the other deities talk about the importance of the war against the evil goddess, and how they lamented the inability to directly help the mortals in their effort. Dreams would not be a direct help, she reasoned. So she took the knowledge told to her by her aunt and uncles - the locations of the 9 stones of power - and attempted to deliver the information to the mind of a young Emperor, in his dreams. However, her skills were not yet sufficient to allow the child Emperor to correctly glean the information. Before she could refine her skills and make further attempts, her actions were discovered by elder celestials. Her actions were discovered and reported to Cronos, her father. Although he cherished his daughter, her actions could not go unpunished as any interference in the lives of mortals was strictly forbidden by Poseidon’s Pact with the evil goddess. In order to satisfy their obligations, Cronos made the decision to cast his daughter down from Heaven and she appeared in the mortal realm, below. Stripped of her divinity and half of her memories, she awoke to find herself within a Temple. Lost and confused, the Temple clergy took her in and cared for her. They soon recognized what she was (an Aasimar of divine ancestry) and what she could do (channel the power of her father as a Cleric / Oracle of Prophecy). They helped her as best they could to adjust to her new, mortal life, while working with her to further the cause against the evil goddess. Although now exiled from the Heavens, An'ne's father and mother still look after their little "fallen angel" as best as they can. They provider her with clerical power and abilities and occasional hints via prophecy to aid her in her quest. After a few months with the Temple, where she learned some basic skills to live life as a mortal (eating, sleeping, walking everywhere) she informed them one day that she needed to travel to obtain an item of significance, which would aid in the destruction of the evil goddess. Being a small, clerical order, the Temple Clergy were unable to provide her with safe escort, so they contacted the Crimson Accord to arrange a protective escort and take her to meet the Emperor of the Northern Empire. In the palace of the child Emperor, An'ne revealed to him who she was and her divine lineage. The child Emperor promised to aid her in her quest by arranging for safe transport and provided her with with a defensive guard to protect her. Secret #1: Known Secret = her father is Cronos, God of Prophecy. Although this is a secret that she does not reveal willingly, the fact eventually becomes known to those close to her. It is also a source of pride for her and she does not shy from expressing her pride and joy to those that know the secret. Secret #2: Unknown Secret = She cannot remember her mother. This is upsetting to her and she is reluctant to talk about it.   ABILITY SCORES (30-point buy, max 20): SRT = 8 (start = 8) DEX = 12 (start = 12) CON = 8 (start = 8) INT = 12 (start = 12) WIS = 20 (start = 17, +1 Protector Aasimar Racial Modifier, +2 Lvl4) CHA = 16 (start = 14, +2 Aasimar Racial Modifier) HP = 27 Cleric Lvl 1 = 7 (8 + Constitutional modifier = 8-1) Cleric Lvl 2 = +4 (1d6 or 5 + your Constitution modifier = 5-1) Cleric Lvl 3 = +4 (1d6 or 5 + your Constitution modifier = 5-1) Cleric Lvl 4 = +4 (1d6 or 5 + your Constitution modifier = 5-1) Cleric Lvl 5 = +4 (1d6 or 5 + your Constitution modifier = 5-1) Cleric Lvl 6 = +4 (1d6 or 5 + your Constitution modifier = 5-1) Protector Aasimar Racial Abilities: Ability Score Increase - Your Charisma score increases by 2, your Wisdom score increases by 1. Darkvision - You can see in dim light within 60 feet of you as if it were bright light, and in darkness as if it were dim light. You can't discern colors in darkness, only shades of gray. Celestial Resistance - You have resistance [half damage] to necrotic damage and radiant damage. Healing Hands - As an action, you can touch a creature and cause it to regain a number of hit points equal to your level (6 HP). Once you use this trait, you can't use it again until you finish a long rest. Light Bearer - You know the Evocation cantrip Casting Time: 1 action Range: Touch Components: V, M (a firefly or phosphorescent moss) Duration: 1 hour You touch one object that is no larger than 10 feet in any dimension. Until the spell ends, the object sheds bright light in a 20-foot radius and dim light for an additional 20 feet. The light can be colored as you like. Completely covering the object with something opaque blocks the light. The spell ends if you cast it again or dismiss it as an action. If you target an object held or worn by a hostile creature, that creature must succeed on a Dexterity saving throw to avoid the spelllight cantrip. Charisma is your spellcasting ability for it. Languages - You can speak, read, and write Common and Celestial. Radiant Soul - Starting at 3rd level, you can use your action to unleash the divine energy within yourself, causing your eyes to glimmer and two luminous, incorporeal wings to sprout from your back. Your transformation lasts for 1 minute or until you end it as a bonus action. During it, you have a flying speed of 30 feet, and once on each of your turns, you can deal extra radiant damage to one target when you deal damage to it with an attack or a spell. The extra radiant damage equals your level (6 damage). Once you use this trait, you can't use it again until you finish a long rest. Acolyte Background: Skills: Insight, Religion Languages: Two of your choice (Primordial & Sylvan) Equipment: A holy symbol (a gift to you when you entered the priesthood), a prayer book or prayer wheel, 5 sticks of incense, vestments, a set of common clothes, and a belt pouch containing 15 gp. Feature: Shelter of the Faithful - As an acolyte, you command the respect of those who share your faith, and you can perform the religious ceremonies of your deity. You and your adventuring companions can expect to receive free healing and care at a temple, shrine, or other established presence of your faith, though you must provide any material components needed for spells. Those who share your religion will support you (but only you) at a modest lifestyle. You might also have ties to a specific temple dedicated to your chosen deity or pantheon, and you have a residence there. This could be the temple where you used to serve, if you remain on good terms with it, or a temple where you have found a new home. While near your temple, you can call upon the priests for assistance, provided the assistance you ask for is not hazardous and you remain in good standing with your temple. Cleric Class Abilities: Armor Proficiencies: Light armor, medium armor, shields Weapon Proficiencies: All simple weapons Tool Proficiencies: None Saving Throws: Wisdom, Charisma Skills: Choose two from History, Insight, Medicine, Persuasion, and Religion Starting Equipment: ⦁ (a) a mace or (b) a warhammer (if proficient) ⦁ (a) scale mail, (b) leather armor, or (c) chain mail (if proficient) => chain shirt ⦁ (a) a light crossbow and 20 bolts or (b) any simple weapon (Sling) ⦁ (a) a priest's pack or (b) an explorer's pack ⦁ A shield and a holy symbol (hourglass pendent worn around neck) ⦁ Mindful Senses (Oracle Domain feature) - At 1st level, you gain the Transmutation cantrip Casting Time: 1 action Range: 120 feet Components: V, S, M (a short piece of copper wire) Duration: 1 round You point your finger toward a creature within range and whisper a message. The target (and only the target) hears the message and can reply in a whisper that only you can hear. You can cast this spell through solid objects if you are familiar with the target and know it is beyond the barrier. Magical silence, 1 foot of stone, 1 inch of common metal, a thin sheet of lead, or 3 feet of wood blocks the spell. The spell doesn't have to follow a straight line and can travel freely around corners or through openings.message cantrip if you don't know it already. Additionally, you gain proficiency in the Perception skill. ⦁ Blessing of Foresight (Oracle Domain feature) - Starting at 1st level, you use your divination spells to protect your allies from future events. Whenever you cast a divination spell of 1st level or higher, choose one creature you can see. That creature gains temporary hit points equal to your Wisdom modifier + your cleric level (+11 HP @ Lvl 6). ⦁ Channel Divinity (once twice per Short/Long Rest): ⦁ Turn Undead - As an action, you present your holy symbol and speak a prayer censuring the undead. Each undead that can see or hear you within 30 feet of you must make a Wisdom saving throw (Spell Save DC = 16 @ Lvl 6). If the creature fails its saving throw, it is turned for 1 minute or until it takes any damage. A turned creature must spend its turns trying to move as far away from you as it can, and it can't willingly move to a space within 30 feet of you. It also can't take reactions. For its action, it can use only the Dash action or try to escape from an effect that prevents it from moving. If there’s nowhere to move, the creature can use the Dodge action. ⦁ Prophetic Trance - Starting at 2nd level, you can use your Channel Divinity to enter a prophetic trance. As an action, you inhale hallucinatory vapors and enter a trance-like state for 10 minutes. Roll two d20s and record the numbers rolled. You can replace any attack roll, saving throw, or ability check made by you or a creature that you can see with one of these prophecy rolls. You must choose to do so before the roll is made. Each prophecy roll can be used only once. You lose the prophecy rolls when your trance ends. ⦁ Destroy Undead - Starting at 5th level, when an undead fails its saving throw against your Turn Undead feature, the creature is instantly destroyed if its challenge rating is at or below (CR<=1/2 @ Cleric Level 5/6). ⦁ Visions of Danger (Oracle Domain feature) - Starting at 6th level, you experience flashes of foresight that reveal to you when your allies will be harmed, allowing you to react with uncanny speed. When you ready a spell that restores hit points, it does not require or break concentration. Additionally, when one of your allies takes damage or fails a saving throw, you may use your reaction to move up to your speed and cast a beneficial spell that only targets your imperiled ally. The casting time of the spell must be a reaction, action, or bonus action. You may use this feature twice, and you regain any expended uses when you finish a short or long rest. Sp e l l c a s t i n g A b i l i t y Wisdom is your spellcasting ability for your cleric spells. The power of your spells comes from your devotion to your deity. You use your Wisdom whenever a cleric spell refers to your spellcasting ability. In addition, you use your Wisdom modifier when setting the saving throw DC for a cleric spell you cast and when making an attack roll with one. R i t u a l C a s t i n g You can cast a cleric spell as a ritual if that spell has the ritual tag and you have the spell prepared. S p e l l c a s t i n g F o c u s You can use a holy symbol as a spellcasting focus for your cleric spells.   Cleric Level 1 Proficiency Bonus = +2 Spell save DC = 14 (8 + your proficiency bonus + your Wisdom modifier = 8 + 2 + 4 = 14) Spell attack modifier = +6 (your proficiency bonus + your Wisdom modifier = 2 + 4 = 6) Cleric Lvl 1 Cantrips = 3+2 (Guidance, Thaumaturgy & Resistance) +Message (Domain) +Light (Race, cast w/ CON) Cleric Lvl 1 Prepared Spells = 5+2 (Domain): (Bless, Command, Cure Wounds, Healing Word & Shield of Faith) Cleric Lvl 1 Prophecy Domain Spells = +detect magic & identify Cleric Lvl 1 Spell Slots = 2 (1st Lvl) Cleric Level 2 Proficiency Bonus = +2 Spell save DC = 14 (8 + your proficiency bonus + your Wisdom modifier = 8 + 2 + 4 = 14) Spell attack modifier = +6 (your proficiency bonus + your Wisdom modifier = 2 + 4 = 6) Cleric Lvl 2 Cantrips = 3+2 Cleric Lvl 2 Prepared Spells = 6 (+Detect Evil and Good) Cleric Lvl 2 Spell Slots = 3 (1st Lvl) Cleric Level 3 Proficiency Bonus = +2 Spell save DC = 14 (8 + your proficiency bonus + your Wisdom modifier = 8 + 2 + 4 = 14) Spell attack modifier = +6 (your proficiency bonus + your Wisdom modifier = 2 + 4 = 6) Cleric Lvl 3 Cantrips = 3+2 Cleric Lvl 3 Prepared Spells = 7 (+Prayer of Healing) Cleric Lvl 3 Prophecy Domain Spells = + augury & locate object Cleric Lvl 3 Spell Slots = 4 (1st Lvl), 2 (2nd Lvl) Cleric Level 4 Proficiency Bonus = +2 Spell save DC = 15 (8 + your proficiency bonus + your Wisdom modifier = 8 + 2 + 5 = 15) Spell attack modifier = +7 (your proficiency bonus + your Wisdom modifier = 2 + 5 = 7) Cleric Lvl 4 Cantrips = 4+2 (+Toll the Dead) Cleric Lvl 4 Prepared Spells = 9 (+Hold Person & Spiritual Weapon) Cleric Lvl 4 Spell Slots = 4 (1st Lvl), 3 (2nd Lvl) Cleric Level 5 Proficiency Bonus = +3 Spell save DC = 16 (8 + your proficiency bonus + your Wisdom modifier = 8 + 3 + 5 = 16) Spell attack modifier = +8 (your proficiency bonus + your Wisdom modifier = 3 + 5 = 8) Cleric Lvl 5 Cantrips = 4+2 Cleric Lvl 5 Prepared Spells = 10 (+Dispel Magic) Cleric Lvl 5 Prophecy Domain Spells = + beacon of hope & clairvoyance Cleric Lvl 5 Spell Slots = 4 (1st Lvl), 3 (2nd Lvl), 2 (3rd Lvl) Cleric Level 6 Proficiency Bonus = +3 Spell save DC = 16 (8 + your proficiency bonus + your Wisdom modifier = 8 + 3 + 5 = 16) Spell attack modifier = +8 (your proficiency bonus + your Wisdom modifier = 3 + 5 = 8) Cleric Lvl 6 Cantrips = 4+2 Cleric Lvl 6 Prepared Spells = 11 (+Revivify) Cleric Lvl 6 Spell Slots = 4 (1st Lvl), 3 (2nd Lvl), 3 (3rd Lvl)

[Seekr34]

Thauior Forestwind Character Sheet: https://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=88720 Name: Thauior Forestwind Race: Wood Elf Class: 2nd level Druid (Circle of the Moon)/4th level Ranger (Ranger Archetype: Monster Slayer) Background: Outlander Feature: Wanderer Profession: Guide Personality Trait: 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 slow to trust members of other races, tribes and societies. Personality: A typical wood elf, though he enjoys travel and exploring new areas, he’s more at ease in the forest than anywhere else. He is friendly and gets along with others just fine, although there are times where he keeps mostly to himself. Description: He looks like your typical wood elf as well, he is covered in mostly green with a bit of brown, a typical woodsman, only he seems to be as one with the forest. A sword at each hip and a bow at his back. He stands at 5’8, green eyes with coppered colored hair and copperish colored skin with a greenish hue. Slender but athletic build. Backstory: He grew up in the Wealdath forest, which means “unspoilded woods” in elvish. A huge tribe of wood elves lived there. The forest was located northwest Tethyr, just north of the Starspire Mountains. His father was a ranger, his mother, a druid, so it was only natural that he would take after them. He has an extra fondness of not just his homeland, but forests in general. Once he became an adult, he became a guide. Guiding travelers through various trails and forests as he traveled more, gaining more experience. He noticed after a couple of years, he was coming across more monsters, so when the time came, he chosen the ranger profession “Monster Slayer”. The Great White Festival had come. A yearly festival that celebrates the day the goddess was thrown from the heavens. He always enjoyed this time with others. He spend many times alone, which he doesn’t mind, but now and then, seeing other people, he enjoys, trading stories and rumors of what is going around across the land. It was there when he received an envelope. The envelope was black and sealed with an origami black rose. He didn’t know how to open it, which was strange. He looked to the person that gave it to him for help, but that person was gone. He looked all around but there was no trace of him. Since it seems magical, he hunted down a wizard. One didn’t know, the second wasn’t powerful enough, but he pointed Thauior to a more powerful wizard. When he showed the envelope, he was told that it can only be opened by cutting your finger on a "petal." It's ancient blood magic, he was told. No trap, he was assured, so with a shrug, he cut his finger and was able to open the letter. Roleplay Sample: The wizard read over his shoulder. “Lord Mallowar, something very important is going on lad, so stay alert and always be at your best.” Thauior looked confused. “It doesn’t even say how he will find me, I mean, he doesn’t even know I will accept.” “Oh, he’ll find you alright, don’t worry about that. As for accepting, well, it is entirely up to you lad, but it’s from Lord Mallowar, it means he had chosen you for a task, what, I do not know, but he doesn’t choose just anyone. There must be something special about you. I also doubt you are his only choice. It will be a life changing experience for sure.” Thauior read the letter again a bit later while he was eating. He rubbed his forehead. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to find out what is wanted of him.

[Clawsome]

Loric Silverstrings https://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=79883 Name: Loric Silverstrings Race: Half Elf Gender: Male Class: Bard/Rogue Profession: Entertainer Description: He stands 6’ tall with a wiry build. His skin tanned from years on the road. His brown eyes matched his hair which was had slight curls and came down to his neck. His traveling garb was nothing spectacular but was a colorful blue and red. Personality: Trait: I'll settle for nothing less than perfection. Ideals: When I perform, I think I make the world better than it was. Bonds: My instrument is my most treasured possession, and it reminds me of someone I love. Flaws: I have trouble keeping my true feelings hidden. My sharp tongue lands me in trouble. Background: Loric was born in the unfortunately as a tryst between a traveling human bard and an elven bar maid. In the small city of Bask, tucked in a section of the Northern Territories between the Kaganite Mountains, the Yuel Forest and Collogen River. The mother didn’t even know the fathers name and the father never knew of the child. Life was not easy for his mother, Elloween, nor Loric. Her job and life were hard. Not a day went by not in misery. Loric grew up in no better circumstances and was an outcast to most being a half breed. Instead of letting it hurt him, he used it to harden him to the slurs and jokes. Growing up in the tavern gave him the hard lessons of life, but it also gave him some skills growing up. One night he heard beautiful music and voice, and it changed him profoundly. He picked up the lute and learned to play while getting pointers from bards that stayed weekly at the tavern. His mother loved to listen to him play. It seemed to be her only pleasure. Over time, he mixed that up with his odd night jobs here and there. He wasn’t a criminal. He was just trying to survive in this world. He came home one evening to find his mother dead on her straw bed. He mourned and buried her the next day. He knew then it was time for him to move on. From that day forward he traveled and played many, many miles both on land and the waterways. Continuing to improve his skills. He left the shadier side of work for the most part and focused on his music. He knew he was destined for something better and was determined to make a better life for himself. He took odd jobs working for various organizations obtaining objects of value for them. One such group was The Library Under the Sylvan Tree. He retrieved books and scrolls over the years for them. It was one of the more honorable jobs he had taken. They asked him for another mission and to join some others of their sect. He agreed and was now anticipated his newest challenge.