[Characters] The Survivors

[Togot]

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[DiceGoblin]

Application Name: Lenora Aldercrest Race: Human Class: Blood Hunter (Order of the Profane Soul) Background: Noble Personality traits: No one could doubt by looking at my regal bearing that I am a cut above the unwashed masses. If you do me an injury, I will crush you, ruin your name, and salt your fields. Ideal: Retribution. The wicked will pay for their deeds, such is the way of the world. Bond: I must find my family, in whatever state they may be in now. Flaw: I refuse to see my own limits and constantly overwork myself. Backstory: The Aldercrest family are the leaders of a town by the same name. Nestled in a valley and nearly surrounded by mountains, it is a highly defensible location that has managed to do decently in the recent years. The people live relatively comfortable lives. Though not the most wealthy of towns, the people have roofs over their heads and food in their bellies. Much of that is thanks to the careful care of the Aldercrest family, who's strategic marriages of their children have helped the town prosper. Lenora is the youngest of the three Aldercrest children. She has two older brothers, Talen and Abel. As the youngest and only daughter, Lenora was seen as less useful than her brothers. Her only purpose would be to one day be married off into the right family for political gain and the benefit of the town. All three children had the same lessons about etiquette, history, noble houses, dancing, anything they would need for their status. But while her brothers got lessons on horseback riding, archery, and fencing. Her lessons were domestic, knitting and sewing, flower arraigning, things that would make her a good wife. She hated it. It wasn't long before she was ditching those lessons and showing up to the fencing lessons in a pair of trousers. The tutor refused to teach her and she got into trouble with her parents. But the head guard of the estate was on her side, insisting that she too had the tools to defend herself. Though reluctant, her parents eventually relented, but only if Lenora continued her other lessons as well. An agreement was made. Lenora was quick to show that she had some talent for swordplay and everyone was much happier. When she turned 16, her parents began looking for a good match for her. A wave of suitors traveled to Aldercrest, but none were right. Most of them were lesser nobles who wanted to the coin of the Aldercrest family and cared little for the town they protected. Others Lenora scared off. Though she had no actual say in the matter there were still things she could do. Between suitors came an organization that called themselves The Black Lotus. They claimed they were a group who were set on helping towns become safer in this trying age. That they were responsible for some of the strongest civilizations left in the world. How all they wanted to do was help people. They were invited into the manor for discussion. Unfortunately, that's not how things go. The entire Aldercrest family was sitting down for a meal with The Black Lotus when the organization went on the attack. The family was unarmed so it was a quick battle, though they fought hard. Lenora stabbed one of them with a table knife, and smashed a plate over the head of another. When Lenora woke up, though she didn't expect to, she was somewhere dark, damp, and cold, the cellar most likely. She was strapped to a table. There were other people, or things, around her, some of them she recognized as family or townsfolk, others were beasts she had never seen. She was approached by the leader of The Black Lotus, the one she had stabbed, who claimed that his master had taken a liking to her. He opened a glass bottle with some sort of black fluid on the inside. He put a dagger to the opening and Lenora watched as the fluid moved on it's own, jumping onto dagger. The dagger is stabbed into her sternum and the fluid jumps off the blade and into her. She had no idea what it is, only that it hurt. She screamed. Something was changing inside her. When she woke up again, she was completely alone. With no idea where The Black Lotus, or her family, was. She was the only Aldercrest in the town. Exploring she found that the town was in shambles. Most of the people were gone, either fled or maybe taken. Lenora helped who was left pack up, everyone gathering supplies so they could make the journey to the next nearest civilization. Lenora changed from her dress into something far more comfortable and practical for travel, grabbed a rapier, a real one not a practice one, and set off with her people in tow. Several days into their journey was when the voice in her head made itself known. It was deep, smooth, almost melodic, and definitely shouldn't have been there. It warned Lenora of approaching danger and against her better judgement, she listened. The voice never went away, it occasionally popped into her mind for the rest of the day. Then that night, the two had a conversation, all in Lenora's mind. Whatever it was, it's origin was the black sludge in the bottle, and now it had gifted her with a blood curse. It taught her how to use her newfound power. In return it wanted one thing and one thing only, to destroy the Black Lotus. Despite the leader calling it master, the thing in her head was supposedly a victim too, being used against it's will. Lenora wasn't sure if she trusted it, but she agreed to use this power to destroy the people responsible for the destruction of her home. Goal: Lenora has two main goals. To find her family. And to find The Black Lotus and destroy them so they can't do it to anybody else. RP sample:   You quickly turn down the alleyway in an attempt to escape the indescribable monstrosity that pursues you. You stumble over garbage making your way forward as you try to decide on your next course of action. Then you hear the sound of a girl crying. You look in the direction of the sound to see a child down on her knees before several bodies. There are four of them, all torn open with their innards spilled out. Fresh blood soaks the ground the girl sits in, staining her white dress. She takes no notice of you. Before you can speak, you hear the crashing sound of the creature that chases you. Whatever you do, you must do it quickly for there isn’t much time.   Lenora slid to a stop, grateful for the moment to catch her breath. The sight of blood had stopped bothering her a long time ago. But the child crying was less easy to ignore. The sound of the monster was crashing behind her. The voice in her head encouraging her to keep going. The fallen noble took a deep breath, then rushed forward and grabbed the girl. The girl screamed and Lenora winced at the sound. "Come sweetie, let's go. Live for them." She pulled the girl into her arms and began running again. She felt an unexpected burst of warmth in her chest, right where those pesky tattoos were, where that black liquid had entered her body. There was a surge of strength and endurance that hit right after. Picking up speed, Lenora managed to get far enough ahead to be able to slip into another alleyway and press herself and the little girl into the darkness. Her saving the child, had apparently been the right thing to do.

 

Lenora

 

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[Tiger Basilisk]

Name: Aphelion
Race: Eladrin
Class: Life Cleric
Background: Hermit

Personality Traits: Aphelion tends to compare the situation at hand to events that occurred long ago.
He can often be seen tinkering with the charms and seals on his staff.
Ideal: Preservation. Humanity and its culture must live on, and the losses of the past must not repeat.
Bond: Memories. The way of the past, their traditions and interests, must never be forgotten.
Aphelion holds these memories dear and will gladly share them if asked.
Flaw: Self-centered. Aphelion associates only with those races that the Eladrin regarded positively.
He cannot hold much sympathy to monstrous races or those who were not a part of nature.

Backstory:

 

In ages past, the eladrin had a vast kingdom, of prosperity and providence. Its subjects lived peaceful lives, where they were free to pursue their inner desires. The eladrin has children with one another, and raised individuals that constantly rediscovered themselves. However, these are things of the immeasurably distant past, and modern history books hold no love for the former glory of the eladrin.

Centuries ago, Aphelion was an inexperienced, passionate youth who lived in a close-knit, grounded society. He was one of the last of the eladrin ever be born. He stayed in a central area of their aged land, where every single eladrin left knew the other personally. Theirs was no more than a pastoral village, and yet it was the entirety of their kingdom. They still had their histories and traditions well preserved. Many in the community were making significant attempts to reclaim the land and bring back even the slightest fraction of their lost prestige. Aphelion was learning of the eladrin religion, and of the many blessings that the gods once bestowed upon them. He could produce small effects that paled in comparison to what was once possible, but those small miracles told him that the gods were still out there somewhere, and this strengthened his faith.

And then the great cataclysm destroyed the world.

Aphelion was displaced. He was lost among the scattered, ruined lands, and he never saw any of his eladrin compatriots again. To his knowledge, he was now the last trace of that once great empire.

Goal: Aphelion travels the world, uncertain of how to accomplish his dream of recovering the eladrin one day. He holds great sympathy for the people around him who have similarly lost their homes and histories, and hopes that he may allay their fears or protect their precious little peace with his magic of life. To this end, in the present day he is an adventurer that provides his support to those who ask for it.

RP Sample: Write your character’s response to this scene

 

You quickly turn down the alleyway in an attempt to escape the indescribable monstrosity that pursues you. You stumble over garbage making your way forward as you try to decide on your next course of action. Then you hear the sound of a girl crying. You look in the direction of the sound to see a child down on her knees before several bodies. There are four of them, all torn open with their innards spilled out. Fresh blood soaks the ground the girl sits in, staining her white dress. She takes no notice of you. Before you can speak, you hear the crashing sound of the creature that chases you. Whatever you do, you must do it quickly for there isn’t much time.

 

Aphelion made his way through the constricted pathways as precisely as he could. He was feeling rigid all over from the stress of running, and he had to actively push his body to keep moving. When he thought he finally had a clear lead, his attention was taken by the wails of a young girl, helpless and surrounded by death. If the monster were to turn its sights towards her, she would certainly meet her demise. A precious life was at risk, and Aphelion could not bring himself to run away for the life of him.
Sounds exploded forth, announcing that the monster was closing in. The chase had to be resumed. Even so, Aphelion began chanting.

"My gods, please grant my desperate wish. I have realized that one miracle was prepared today not for me, but for another being of this world. Deliver unto this child the blessing of sanctuary."
He carefully uttered the ancient names of his gods, and also included Akeron, the new dragon god of abjuration.

He turned around, and locked eyes with the monster that was pursuing him. He knew this to be a terrible idea, but it weighed fairly to him given the circumstances. And then Aphelion ran as fast and as far as his legs could take him. That was the extent of his concern for himself. His thoughts were still with the little girl in that alleyway. He truly hoped he had done enough.

[theclaytster]

Character Concept Name: Alice Bien Race: Human (Variant) Class: Wizard (Necromancer) Background: Far Traveler Personality Trait: 'I honor my deities through practices that are foreign to this land.' - Alice is fascinated by death and all things supernatural. She believes death is an extension of life, part of the natural cycle and thus there is much knowledge to gain from the deceased. 'I begin or end my day with small traditional rituals that are unfamiliar to those around me.' - Alice burns incense to ward off the evil eye at night. Flaw: 'Inquisitive. Everything is new, but I have a thirst to learn.' - Unlocking the mysteries of life and death is worth ignoring old religeous and established traditions, even if it goes against the establishment. Bond: 'I hold no greater cause than my service to my people.' - Spirits exist and she is determined to understand how to use them. Some spirits have unfinished business and need guidance while others possess knowledge and insight, and still others are willing to assist for a price. Ideal: 'I consider the adherents of other gods to be deluded innocents at best, or ignorant fools at worst.' - Fate has gifted Alice with her talent to feel and interact with spirits. She is obsessed with understanding her unique this gift regardless of how others perceive her actions or their moral implications. Backstory Inside a small earthen hut in Balaat in Lindolond's southern desert region, an exhausted mother, having given birth, cradles and rocks Alice, her crying newborn daughter, while a midwife cleans up the bloody mess from the floor. Alice was stillborn, her umbilical cord wrapped around her neck, and had just taken her first breath. The old woman, having deposited the mess into a wooden bowl, places it on the doorstep, returning to tend mother and child. Alice's mother hears a strange wet snuffling noise from the doorstep. Staring at her was a black jackel. It licked its nose and twitched its whiskers. The eyes, however, were wrong. They were a bright, glimmering blue, the same blue as her daughters's. Alice saw the fox and smiled a wide toothless smile, making a high-pitched sound of delight, reaching out with his chubby hands, waving at the beast. Her mother frantically made signs to ward off the evil eye as the old midwife scrambled to grab a broom, the jackel gave a sly, tongue-hanging grin before snatching the bowl's contents and dashing off. Alice laughed, and babbled nonsense at the jackel's back. Alice is an only child. Her father perished the day of her birth outside the ruins of Nubtwas while scavanging for old-world items. Hard times ensued after her father's death. Her mother took any job she could find, from barmaid to chamber maid to even a lady of the night to make ends meet. When work ran out, they moved, never staying in one village for long. That was the excuse given by her mother. In reality, it was far from the truth. It was Alice's gift, her connection to the underworld which forced their continuous uprooting. It started with imaginary friends, but she never outgrew them, they just manifested themselves differently. Her mother did not fully understand this gift, but she used it to their advantage when they could keep it hidden. Palm reading, bone and wax readings. These were favorites, easily concealed or discard if suspicion or rumors of working with unforeseen forces were aroused. Their safety hit a crescendo after their run-in with the Leona High Priest Alger of Lindolond. The High Priest sent agents of the church to locate her, coming close on a few occasions.   The Encounter At Mills Crossing Hocktide Festival, a small girl yanks violently at her mothers hand, pulls free and runs towards a growing crowd. "Alice!" the mother calls to her child in frustration as the girl disappears into the mass. A crowd has gathered in response to a rare visit by the Lathander High Priest Alger of Graynard. Squeezing though the mass of legs and bodies, Alice stumbles into the High Priest. He stops for a moment annoyed by the child, steps to one side and starts walking as though the child does not exist. Catching her balance, she tugs on his robe. "What is it?" he says with a fake annoyed smile. Alice stands back. "That lady asked me to give these to you." In her hands is a single Daffodil and Gladiolus which she reaches up to give the High Priest. "She said for you to remember what she use to tell you about them." Alice adds. The fake smile disappeared, replaced by a puzzled and slightly open-jawed expression. Leaning down and trying grab the Alice. "Where did you get these!" he demanded as memories of his mother slowly flooded in; his voice trembling a bit. The flowers were his mother's favorite as they symbolized rebirth and remembrance; the many stories of how everybody should honor their ancestors. As Alice points to where the old lady was standing, her mother appears. With the High Priests head turned, embarrassed, she curtsy's, grabs her daughters hand firmly, and quickly pulls her daughter into the crowd. "I don't..." the High Priests voice trails off as his attention switches between the now departed girl and where she said the lady was. Away from prying eyes and ears, Alice's mother gets on her knees. "What did we talk about?" Alice protests, "But mommy, the lady wanted me to give him those flowers. She insisted! She said it was important." Her mother exhales heavily, and in a loving but stern voice, "I know, but remember others cannot see her. Only you. If somebody finds out..." Alice interrupts. "I know. Beware of those with hollow souls and shallow minds as they will feed you to the wolves." Alice leans over and hugs her mom. After a bit, "We need to go." Her mother takes Alice's hand. They would be leaving another home this night. While travelling through The Sea of Trees forest north of Lodge, her mother fell gravely ill, ultimately succumbing to a horrible disease resulting in the necrosis of her limbs. Alice became mad, truly angry. She did not the skills or understand to save her mother. The spirits whom she spoke with often went silent. All she would do is watch her mother die a terrible death. In the distance, the earie gecker of a jackal is heard. It was at this time Alice met Schmee, an old female hermit considered by many to be a witch for her unothrodox methods. Schmee found Alice leaning against a tree with her mother's body a few paces away. Normally she would have left Alice for dead and let nature take it's toll, but while watching Alice, a bugo owl flew down, resting near. Alice lashed out, screaming at the innocent creature. It immediately fell dead. Schmee had had a similar vision. The gods had spoken. Schmee took Alice in as her apprentice, studying both traditional arts of healing and the mystical. It was under Schmee's tutelage that Alice discovered not only she was a conduit for spirits but could utilize spirit manifistations to cast spells.   Training "No no. Lass." Schmee exhales with a bit of exasperation. Three rabbits are individually caged in small wicker boxes about 5 paces from Schmee and Alice. One died a few moments ago by Schmee. A larger box behind them holds maybe a dozen more creatures. Alice was frustrated. She had not fully comprehended how to entice a spirit to perform a task. She can sense them all around, see many, but interact with just a few. Through Schmee's tutelage, she had taken the first steps by grasping that small fragment of it's former life. Now she was trying to coax it's desire to performing a task. "Snap out of it, girl. You were close the last time." The strike of the thin willow branch across her back did not leave a mark, but was enough to get her attention. "You know what drives the spirit. It's the same as placing a carrot in front of a donkey. It wants to eat. It's the same here. They only want to continue with what they did in their past." "I know, but I'm tired." Alice threw that out as an excuse, but it was true. Spell casting did take a small toll on the body. It takes a bit of your energy to provide the spirit or entity with the small amount it needs to complete the task you ask of it. "Oh Pish Posh!" Schmee retorted. "I've seen 76 winters that I remember. Do you see me getting tired? Stop the excuses or I'll leave a mark on your back." She states with the one smile you never wanted to see from Schmee. Alice refocused. She chose a spirit who attached itself to her years ago. This spirit, she sensed, had once been a female whose life was filled with tremendous sorrow and despair. Alice looked at the rabbit once again, this time ignoring the slight drain she felt as a tiny filament of her energy was offered to the spirit for it to torment the rabbit. Alice watched the creature move its ears as trying to hide the momentary sound of the dolorous bell ringing in its ears. The rabbit collapsed and died. The energy used, the spirit left. Alice watched, her mouth open, then smiled, then giggled. She understood. And the draining feeling seemed to be offset by a euphoria. Before Schmee could say anything, the final rabbit met the same fate. Alice started clapping like a child receiving a gift. Turning to Schmee, "That was easier than I thought. Oh my." Her heart was pounding. "This is fun." "Fun?" Schmee looked at Alice with the intent to scold her. "Child. Fun is not the word I would use. You are performing acts which most think is blasphemy, and those that may understand it, want nothing to do with it." Her tone changes to more of a mentor. "What others don't realize is that we can perform similar tasks that mimic other forms of magic. We just use spirits and other entities to accomplish this." "Ok. Maybe not fun, but I did do it. I can't wait to learn more!" Alice responds quickly. To her, it was fun regardless of what Schmee thought. "Calm down." Schmee laughs. "Your enthusiasm may be more than your body can handle. That was a minor offering. It get's harder as you want them to do more. In some cases, it takes multiple entities to complete the task you ask of them." Alice did not realize this. And then her eyes opened as she started to contemplate what could happen. It was like cooking. Each ingredient by itself was useful, but together, it made something special. Schmee looks at the dead rabbits. Alice follows Schmee's eyes and looks at the rabbits as well. At the same time they both say "rabbit for dinner?!" They look at each other and laugh. Preparing the nights dinner takes some time. While Alice skins the rabbits, Schmee watches her with interest and trepidation. She learned quickly. But did she enjoy it too much? Alice's understanding of not only the body, but of the spirit world grew. She hungered to know more. Her mother did not need to die. If she had only known more, been able to speak with the spirits, maybe her mother would still be alive. And oh how she wished to speak with her. Schmee knew her own limits and could not guide Alice further. And there was now word of the High Priest Alger's men nosing around in the area. Having helped Balder Hall in the past, she learnt of a caravan of his heading to Octam. Arranging for Alice to join, debts met, she watched Alice leave knowing she would see her again in the next life. Goal Alice seeks old-world knowledge, truths, regarding the afterlife. She believes death is an extension of life, a tool to be used. The vast knowledge held by the dead is incalculable and could be used to counter the suffering persistent today. The drive to speak with her mother and advert what happened to her fuels her thirst for this forbidden knowledge. RP Style You quickly turn down the alleyway in an attempt to escape the indescribable monstrosity that pursues you. You stumble over garbage making your way forward as you try to decide on your next course of action. Then you hear the sound of a girl crying. You look in the direction of the sound to see a child down on her knees before several bodies. There are four of them, all torn open with their innards spilled out. Fresh blood soaks the ground the girl sits in, staining her white dress. She takes no notice of you. Before you can speak, you hear the crashing sound of the creature that chases you. Whatever you do, you must do it quickly for there isn’t much time. *** Alice, out of breath, hand resting the alleyway wall supporting her, looks as the blood stained girl sitting amongst the dead. There are spirits hovering around the girl, she can sense them. Sense the concern. For a moment, their she watches the final few struggled breaths of her mother. She remembers the warmth of her moms body, the expression on her face, one of final longing. Then the tears. The howls as she shook her mom trying to wake her, but to no avail. Nobody to help. The loneliness. Why did she die? She sees in that girl herself. Those same questions. Those same feelings. The crashing sound of the creature getting closer snaps Alice back. She knew she would not be able to defeat this creature. She had too much more to learn. She leapt towards the child, grabbing her, putting one hand around the child's mouth and a finger up indicating to be quiet. "Shhhh." It was a soothingly soft sound she hoped would keep the child calm. She curled the child up in her arms. Alice's hand grabbed a white rabbit's foot she had tied around her neck. As she had done so many times before, she opened herself up, offering one of the spirits near the child a chance to regain some warmth, some energy in exchange for assistance. If she had to guess, it was the child's father by the strength of it's feeling towards the child. Holding the rabbit's foot, she mumbled a few strange words. She felt a bit of her life's energy merge with the spirit. It had taken the payment. An instant later where there had been four bodies, all torn open with their innards spilled out, blood everywhere, and a child, the child was now gone. The illusion complete. All that remained were the bodies in their horrid state. Alice could feel the spirit manipulating the area in front of them, hiding them from the creature. She only hoped the child would not make a sound and the nastiness around would hide their scent.

[Talissen70]

Arnys https://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=91311 Name: Arnys Gemmer Race: Lightfoot Halfling Class: Rogue Background: Archaeologist Personality traits: I might fail, but I will never give up. Traps don't make me nervous. Idiots who trigger traps make me nervous. Ideal: Danger. With every great discovery comes grave danger. The two walk hand in hand. Bond: Ever since I was a child, I've heard stories about a lost city. I aim to find it, learn its secrets, and earn my place in the history books. Flaw: When I'm not exploring dungeons or ruins, I get jittery and impatient. Backstory: Arnys grew up in a commune named 'the nest' which was formed of an eclectic variety of races who had been building up since the end came. A roamer himself, he spent much of his time exploring the caves beneath their mountain home. Arnys always had questions for the elders but this was not a community of the long-lived and therefore few had been born before the old world ended and the answers were few and generally seemed unlikely to the youth. His own 'old-world' ended quite spectacularly around 10 years ago when giant flying creatures were spotted by Darus the scout approaching their home. The commune had a strong gate and high walls but nothing to protect them from the skies and they were decimated. Arnys had been sent with the others into the caves but they were shallow, and aside from the small progress the 15 year old Arnys had made of digging, were of little protection. The weight of the flying creatures collapsed the underground structure and Arnys became trapped, alone. Being the resourceful soul that he is and devoid of alternatives, Arnys began to dig and soon found an ancient hall carved under their mountain. This hall contained a number of large metallic, woven cables which seemed to support the high ceiling and on the far wall a large inscription with inset gems. Arnys had seen nothing like this in his life and was mystified. He had the impression this carving was significant, symbolic in some way but his mind had nothing to compare it to and lend it relevance. Heading towards the sound of running water and potential escape, he slipped and was washed out of the initial cave. After several days underground, he found an exit to the surface. Completely unaware of where this had left him, he wandered until he found a settlement. They knew nothing of 'the nest' or large creatures and laughed at his tales of the large hall. From this moment, Arnys became an explorer. Taking tutelage from those he could, moving from settlement to settlement, exploring old-world relics where he could and reading ancient texts where they were found. There were many tales of giant cities and other wonders, many of which seemed fanciful and surely false but there were also clues which indicated both knowledge and treasures which, if he could find them, would change the world. In addition, Arnys picked up some additional skills; manageable with a blade, good with a bow and a knack for getting out of trouble (he may or may not have caused it). Thus, ten years later, Arnys found himself working for Balder Hall as a mercenary guard on a caravan headed to Octam, part of a motley group. He had sourced a map from an old prospector three months ago showing a potential tunnel network nearby, no gold but strange happenings and odd creatures were seen. Arnys aimed to find out more, this could be the one. Goal: To find out. Arnys has lived his whole life asking why? Why did the dog die?, why do we have heavy wooden walls around the settlement?, Why are those winged creatures blocking out the sky? Up til now, the answers have been insufficient (except for the winged creatures, he's satisfied with the answer for that one) He lives a life of perpetual wonder, where others see desolation, he see's history and opportunity. Given time and the appropriate assistance, he is sure he can work things out. And the greatest mysteries of the world are always just around the next corner. Maybe one day he'll be recognised for his work but for now he is happy just being out there. Does it come with extreme danger at times, sure, but what doesn't just now? RP sample: write your character’s response to this scene You quickly turn down the alleyway in an attempt to escape the indescribable monstrosity that pursues you. You stumble over garbage making your way forward as you try to decide on your next course of action. Then you hear the sound of a girl crying. You look in the direction of the sound to see a child down on her knees before several bodies. There are four of them, all torn open with their innards spilled out. Fresh blood soaks the ground the girl sits in, staining her white dress. She takes no notice of you. Before you can speak, you hear the crashing sound of the creature that chases you. Whatever you do, you must do it quickly for there isn’t much time.   His lungs were burning already and he could feel the strength in his legs slowly fading. The creature was gaining ground, but to be fair, it did have six legs to Arny's two. The notion of unfairness briefly passed though his mind, quickly followed by an image of teeth. The creature had a lot more of them as well. Bugger. Arnys nearly missed the alleyway with all the thinking going on in his head. Not the time, not the time he mumbled as he caught a brick for purchase and swung round the corner. It seemed pointless as the dog-like creature obviously knew this area better than him but then you have to be philosophical about these things and just like left was better than right, forward was better than back. The brick was loose and came off in his hand causing him to skitter over the width of the alleyway, colliding with the right wall. That's when he noticed the girl. His eyes took in the details fast, he was clever like that. Small child, white dress, four bodies torn apart. Arnys's immediate reaction was obviously self preservation. Keep running. He didn't know this child, she was none of his concern, his concern was the ravenous mouth of the monstrosity surely nearing his heels at this very moment. But then he remembered a young lad, lost and alone as a child, who would have given anything to have been rescued and he planted his feet. He needed to make a stand, he was bigger and more capable than the girl and he could not just walk past and leave her to her fate. Drawing his short sword, he turned around. Physically, he wasn't much and knew he had no chance of defeating the monster he waited for. But despite this resignation, his mind sped on. The fact that his mind was never quiet was both a strength and a weakness to him. It was the reason he frequently faced dangerous or outright ludicrous situations but also the reason he survived to face more and it was working now. How had the girl ended up in such a bad area? Arnys himself had been required to bribe three tribal leaders and go through a 'truth finding' ceremony with a fourth just to get near this site. The bodies, obviously they brought her .. but why bring a child, and wearing such a white dress. And why was that dress so white, sat in a pile of bodies, no parts left bigger than his own arm. Had he even seen anything suggesting they were humanoid?. A bad feeling crept slowly up his neck but it was that moment that the creature rounded the corner into the alley. Arnys's full attention snapped back to those slabbering jaws, so very many teeth and the wisdom of so many passed decisions dragged his heart down to the pit of his stomach. He wanted to attack, meet it on the front foot but neither of his legs agreed and he stood still, holding his breath. In retrospect, not moving forward probably saved his life as the creature's claws would have eviscerated him on the initial swing rather than the paw which hit him on the back swing. The air rushed from his lungs and the world misted up as he hit the wall and slid down into the street garbage. Exhalation had been involuntary and he was preparing for the pain of breathing back in when a white shape moved at the side of his vision. The young girl, who had sat stock still, eyes fixed on nothing, stood and faced the creature, arms by her side. Watching. The creature turned in her direction, rightly deciding Arnys wasn't going anywhere fast. That's when it got strange. The creature snarled, but differently. Not the same way it had snarled at Arnys, this time it sensed something else, not just a victim. The creature pounced but then paused in mid air, as if held in place by a spectral force. It snarled louder, in frustration, and then exploded. In his adventures, Arnys had been to many places and seen many sights that township and village folks would never experience but the wave of energy which resulted from the detonation of this beast was amongst the more unique. He sat for what felt like hours with his brain processing the relatively small amount of input. It was likely about thirty seconds or so before the young girl walked unhurriedly over to sit in the small nest-like structure of the creature's remains. Arnys watched and she picked up a small piece of what he thought might be the creature's face and ate it. Some blood and fluid dripped onto her body but flowed from her white dress like oil on water rather than stain it red. uh! grunted Arnys That solved one mystery then he pondered happily. The child had not made eye contact with Arnys at all as if his existence here was nothing and after a suitable time had passed where he felt no immediate threat of sharing the creature's fate, Arnys started shuffling back towards the entrance of the alleyway. As he emerged into the failing sunlight, he made a conscious decision never to trust young children in white and to avoid strange sites where dangerous creatures live. Almost as soon as these thoughts had been made they were forgotten, as he reached for the map which had led him here in the first place.

[Maya Conti]

Belka - Human Barbarian Belka (generated by Novel AI) Name: Belka Race: Human (Variant) Class: Barbarian (going for Ancestral Guardian) Background: Outlander Personality Traits: -I'm driven by a wanderlust that led me away from home. -I watch over my friends as if they were a litter of newborn pups. Ideal: Greater Good. It is each person's responsibility to make the most happiness for the whole tribe. (Good) Bond: My tribe is the most important thing in my life, even when they are far from me. Flaw: There's no room for caution in a life lived to the fullest. Backstory: After the cataclysm, there were some parts of the world that became so isolated and unreachable to those who were trying to recover from the apocalypse, and these isolated people were forced to fend for themselves, falling under the mercy of the wilderness where deaths became the norms. Nonetheless, despite the isolation, these people adapted to their environment, even thriving despite them regressing back to primitiveness. Forming tribes, these people, who called themselves Throms, were cut off from the knowledge of the more civilized folks, and over time, they began turning their backs on the dragon gods as they started venerating their ancestors instead. At some point, these tribal people had established contact with the more civilized folks, though after such prolonged isolation, these people, whom the civilized folks called 'barbarians' had developed their own distinct culture. Life before the cataclysm was nothing but a distant memory for these barbarians, though the younger ones seemed to have developed interest in these civilized folks. One of them was Belka, a young and boisterous barbarian woman who wished to learn more about these people who seemed to have retained a little bit of knowledge before the cataclysm. Added with her own wanderlust, Belka had decided to leave her tribe, hoping to explore more about the outside world, perhaps reconnecting to her own root as well. A Throm like her was always seen as peculiar by these civilized people, and there were other Throms who had mingled with outsiders before. Belka was slowly getting used to life outside of her tribe, always learning many new things along the way. She had even learned the concept of currency, which was something new for someone who was used to bartering with her fellow tribespeople. Having learned that she needed money, she became a sellsword, selling her service for a price. It happened that she was employed by Balder Hall to guard a caravan traveling to Octam, and from there, Belka would decide her next course of actions. Goal: Always driven by wanderlust, Belka wished to explore the world and experience life outside of her tribe. She wished to make a name for herself in the outside world, knowing that she could do better than having to live a life truly isolated from civilization. She was fully aware that one day, she would return to her tribe, provided that she survived, but until then, she would live her life to the fullest. RP sample:   It was unfortunate for her to run like this, fleeing from such monstrosity, but Belka had no other choice. Being a Throm meant having to struggle to survive, but this was another matter entirely. Belka had seen many things that could easily kill a person, but that thing... it wasn't something that one could defeat with a swing of her great axe. Of course, as she fled her pursuer, Belka heard the sound of a girl crying. She looked at the direction of the sound and saw a child on her knees, surrounded by several bodies. Belka could see these bodies all torn open, with their innards spilling out. Belka paused before she rushed over to where the girl was, who didn't seem to notice her at all as she cried. Before she could speak, Belka heard the crashing sound of the creature chasing her. Unwilling to leave the girl be, Belka scooped her up, holding her in one arm while holding her great axe with another. She turned around and faced the creature, a confident smile masking her fear. Seeing that she was cornered, Belka knew that she needed to punch through in order to escape. "Hold on tight, girl..." Belka told the girl. "It's going to be a bumpy ride..." With a yell, Belka charged towards the creature, looking to move past it in order to escape it. Not the best plan, but it was certainly a daring one. She had to be daring, or else she wouldn't be Belka.

[Drachenspirit]

Shaker Name: Shaker (introduces self as "Shah-khere") <------- Character Sheet Link Race: Warforged - Skirmisher Class: Warlock - Hexblade Background: Criminal Enforcer Personality traits: 1 - I think swearing is normal and use profanity at the oddest times. Even when corrected, I just change to a different curse word. 2 - I always have a plan for what to do when things go wrong. Ideal: I'm loyal to friends, not to ideals. Bond: Someone I cared about died because of a mistake I made. That will never happen again. Flaw: I have a "tell" that reveals when I'm lying. Quirk - Shaker is Obsessed with their appearance, and constantly cleans, polishes and buffs what passes for armor on their exterior. Backstory: Shaker's first day of memories are of panning for Silver in a stream in the hills above Arithaya. The name "Shaker" was tagged upon this warforged, though Shaker says it differently when ask their name. Shaker's 'Master' was Wizard of somewhat questionable morals though he did have his own code. Created to do their master's "dirty work" in the way of collecting things owed and sometimes "asked for", items, they became quite good at what they did. Along the way, they were guided to make a magical connection to a dark and shadowy Deity who bestowed upon them some magical abilities that not only included limited spell casting, but fighting with shield and weapons. A few months ago, Shaker returned from a collections task to find their master gone. Just... gone. Shaker knew where a scroll was stashed for just such an occasion; as told by their master. It was short and sweet and contained a letter of marque as it were for Shaker to be employed by Balder Hall. Other than a few items Shaker could carry, nothing else of value remained in the small stone structure in the hills by the mountain stream. So, Shaker went and handed over the document and began working as a mercenary enforcer for Balder Hall. It didn't take long for Shaker's employers to find out that they - Shaker - had a hard time lying when it was necessary. Simply put, Shaker's voice would get more monotone than normal and they'd obviously avoid eye contact with whomever they were responding to with a lie. So, they were sent on the job of Caravan guard, and told that if they wanted to take their time returning, there would be no hard feelings. This open-ended arrangement was partly because of Shaker's inability to lie, but more so because they really creeped out their employers.

[Kweheri]

Name: Mycil Shadebloom
Race: Firbolg
Class: Druid (Circle of Spores)
Background: Hermit
Personality traits: 1. I've been isolated for so long that I rarely speak, preferring gestures and the occasional grunt.
2. I'm oblivious to etiquette and social expectations.
Ideal: Greater Good. My gifts are meant to be shared with all, not used for my own benefit.
Bond: My isolation gave me great insight into a great evil that only I can destroy.

Flaw: 1. Now that I've returned to the world, I enjoy its delights a little too much.

Backstory: To some the cataclysm was history, to others it was just folklore.
But there were some who remember it, not clearly, but still images, sounds, smells, and the taste in the air as the fires ripped through and the ground shook. Of everything it's the feelings that were the most vivid.

The forest was drenched in fear, all the animals, and even the plants panicked.
Somehow he survived, and he continued to live in the same forest. It was the same, although not the same. Forever scarred.
He now lived in a world, that many pre-cataclysm had longed for. If only they'd known the cost.
It'd been decades without contact with the civilised races, decades alone in the woodland until he'd almost forgotten a world existed outside of it.

Goal: The simple but often elusive goal of connection, years isolated in a forest that will forever be associated with the cataclysm and the loss he'd suffered. It was time for a new life.

RP sample:

 

The sun had just begun to crest the horizon, shards of golden orange light occasionally piercing deep into the forest.
One of which shone straight into Mycils eye, he squirmed a little and rubbed his eyes. He was already awake but this was still unpleasant and more than he was ready for.

"morning all"
He softly offered with a gentle smile to the trees and woodland brings around him.
Pulling himself up, he stretched, he scratched and took a stroll to a nearby stream.
Taking a drink and splashing his face, he opened his eyes properly for the first time this morning.
There was comfort in the familiarity that surrounded him, however it was tainted. Still scars of the cataclysm remained. It'd been countless seasons, easily hundreds. There was still rock that had been turned to liquid before reforming, patches of earth where still nothing grew. Places where the land itself was hewn in two.
Indeed it was familiar and mostly comfortable, but there was no peace here.