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  #1  
Old Oct 14th, 2022, 06:57 AM
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The Castle Crypt



Come and introduce yourselves, Challengers of Ravenloft. A spot has been reserved just for you...
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Old Oct 25th, 2022, 06:35 PM
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The Midnight Fairy
 
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="Nikol"
Name: Nikol Dravkin
Race: (Human) Dhampir
Class: Ranger
Origin: Mordent

Character Sheet

 
 



 
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Last edited by Humble Athena; Apr 14th, 2024 at 07:42 PM. Reason: Trying to get at Nikol's sheet!
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Old Oct 25th, 2022, 08:05 PM
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Stefan BelascoName: Stefan Belasco
Race: Human
Class: Rogue
Origin: Mordent

Appearance: Stefan is shorter than average, a scrawny young man of twenty-two years. He has olive skin and long black hair that curls loosely at the ends. He typically wears it bound up in a messy knot tied at the back of his head. His face is angular, anchored by a prominent nose and big brown eyes, and a smile that’s convincingly disarming. He is particular about his clothing, particularly jackets. Right now he has a burnt orange jacket with colorblocked black trim, worn over a crisp white shirt and a brown vest, with dark brown pants and boots that come to mid-calf. He’s missing the pinky finger from his left hand, and his right arm is a little twisted from having the bone broken and healing not quite straight.

Personality: Stefan is savvy and irreverent, quick with a quip or insult for those who deserve it, though he is a fiercely loyal friend and a keen observer of others. Many calculations run in his head at all times, and he can see the value in doing things both good and bad if the end result will be favorable. Stefan is not afraid to take a risk to make a bold move, but is paranoid about something happening to his friend Nikol. Stef doesn’t care about money but likes nice things, which is inconvenient.

 

Background: Criminal

Personality
Classic I’m irreverent and act like nothing much affects me. It doesn’t. Mostly.
Horror I let people underestimate me, revealing my full competency only to those close to me.

Ideals
Classic I’m loyal to the people I care about. If something happens to someone else, that’s too bad, but it’s not my problem, unless I can turn it to my advantage.
Horror Escape--I believe there is something beyond the world I know, and I need to find it.

Bonds
Classic My family shaped me, but I don’t have to follow in their footsteps.
Horror I have to save Nik. Even if it’s from himself.

Flaws
Classic I’m too willing to go all in when the odds aren’t good.
Horror I’m a skeptic and don't believe in the power of rituals, religion, superstition, or spirits. I also don’t think this is a flaw.

Background:
 

Experience: About me - I’ve been playing D&D since I was eleven, which is many moons ago now. I’ve played several different editions but I’ve never played Curse of Strahd, though I’ve always heard good things about it. I applied to this game at Humble Athena’s invitation. I first met her in a Shadow of the Demon Lord game that just wrapped up. Her character nobly sacrificed herself so the rest of the party could escape, and the sacrifice was so tragic and beautiful I know the imagery will stick with me for a long time, and I wanted to keep playing with her.

Posting Rate: 2x a week or more is good with me.



 


Last edited by case; Oct 27th, 2022 at 12:28 AM.
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Old Oct 25th, 2022, 08:06 PM
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Alessa Perilane
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Name: Alessa Perilane
Race: Changeling (Eberron version)
Class: Warlock (Archfey)
Origin: Carnival
Appearance: Crimson hair, piercing eyes, supernatural beauty, wrapped in the robes of a traveler and the leathers of an adventurer.
Personality: Overtly convivial while inherently mistrustful, Alessa greets everyone like a friend but keeps them well at arm's length. It's better to be on good terms with the devil than to be in his way. Yet while friends are cheap, good friends can be costly. It's usually easier to just change her skin and disappear than to deal with someone getting too close. Her presence may at first be warm and inviting, but after a while you're forced to wonder how much of it is magic, how much is an act, and how much, if any, is real. But just like the carnival she came from, she only has to maintain the illusion for a few weeks before moving on.

Background: Carnival Traveler

Personality Traits
  • I've been travelling as long as I can remember. One day I hope to discover where I'm truly from.
  • I let people underestimate me, revealing my full competency only to those close to me.
Ideals
  • Loyalty--I have a responsibility to those I travel with.
  • Escape--I believe there is something beyond the world I know, and I need to find it.
Bonds
  • I know I must have a family somewhere. Alive or dead, I need to find them.
  • I desperately need to get back to someone or someplace, but I lost them in the mists.
Flaws
  • My past is a mystery to me so I often lie about it, even to my friends.
  • I'm convinced something is after me, appearing in mirrors, dreams, and places where no one could.


Background: Alessa's earliest memories are with the Carnival. Her "family" was constantly shifting, always new faces in new places. She worked many jobs for the circus, from simple labor to magic shows, drawing on some mysterious connection to fey and their tricks. For years she settled for merely getting by in a place that demanded much and offered little. But eventually she grew weary of the fleeting connections and the endless, aimless travel that came with the Carnival. She craved more. She longed for a home and a family. Everyone else seemed to have that, even if they were running away from it. Had she run away too? From where? From whom?

She tried to push these concerns from her mind, but day by day and month by month the thoughts consumed her. She needed to know where she was from, who she'd lost or left behind, and hopefully why. She planned for a year before she finally chose the day and walked away from her life, all she'd ever known. But even as she did it seemed that hardly anyone took notice. The Carnival simply went on without her like she'd never been a part of it at all.

Newly free and without any leads she began to wander. Where would she go? How would she begin to find what she was looking for? It was a driving question that was slowly, quietly joined by another: who is following me? Someone, or something, seemed to be lurking. Just a glimpse here or a shadow there, but enough to let her know she was not alone. She tried to dismiss the idea many times but it simply could not be rationalized or willed away. Maybe someone from the Carnival? Or something that had always been there, waiting for her to be alone?

Now she's a wanderer, always searching, always hiding, looking ahead while looking behind. It's a complicated and uncertain existence, being so displaced and alone, yet not quite as alone as she might like. She's never sure where to go or whom to trust. But whatever happens she keeps moving. She has to keep moving.

Notes:
  • Mirrors - They make her deeply uncomfortable. No matter what shape she takes, it's always a stranger looking back at her.
  • Dreams - She keeps having the same one, or different ones of the same place. She's sure it's a real place, and suspects she's been there before. But she has no idea where it is.
  • Shadows - She keeps seeing something that isn't there. Maybe it's where the rain doesn't fall, or where a branch moves and scares off all the birds. Something is there, watching.
  • Friends - She's met a lot of people, and some she's charmed or endeared her way into their favor. She has "friends" everywhere, though no genuine friends anywhere.
  • Enemies - She has also misled, manipulated, and beguiled plenty enough. As such she has a few enemies here and there. Luckily she can be hard to find.

Experience: I've played 5e in a handful of games, including as GM through Lost Mines & a homebrew continuation I wrote. My familiarity with this material does not extend beyond having heard of it (all good things) and what you wrote in the first post (which I'm still trying to wrap my head around). However, it seems to be quite a fan favorite so I'd love to have the chance to explore.


Last edited by AlphaZ; Oct 26th, 2022 at 02:11 PM.
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Old Oct 25th, 2022, 08:33 PM
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Oriole Deepka Armada

Click on pictures for CS


 


BasicsName: Odie for Oriole Deepka Armadashort.

Race: Human. Allegedly.

Class: Rogue. Allegedly.

Origin: Wash Street, Martira Bay, Jagged Coast, Darkon


Appearance/Personality
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'Anabeco Diexfi' are the words he lives by.
 


 


 


 




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Last edited by Boogieman; Apr 2nd, 2023 at 07:06 PM. Reason: Secreting Things Again
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Old Oct 26th, 2022, 12:02 AM
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ArcZero ArcZero is offline
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Still deciding on how I will allocate a few stats, but here you go.
Character
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Name: Elovhen "Quasid" Nenlith <= Character Sheet Race: Half-Mind Flayer, Half-High Elf <= Link to Illithid Race Template, chosen by DaniLore

Class: Wizard (Will be Bladesinger at level 2 using this reworked version with a BYO Bladesong), Level 1 Bonus Feat: War Caster

Origin: Bluetspur with a distant fascination of what he's heard of Dementlieu

Background: Charlatan (With some Haunted One traits)
Classic 1) I don’t talk about the thing that torments me. I’d rather not burden others with my curse.
2) I fall in and out of love easily, and am always pursuing someone.
Horror I'm quick to jump to extreme solutions. Why risk a lesser option not working?

Ideals
Classic Creativity. I never run the same con twice. (Chaotic)
Horror Adrenaline. I've experienced such strangeness that now I feel alive only in extreme situations.

Bonds
Classic I want to be famous, whatever it takes.
Horror I desperately need to get back to someone or someplace, but I lost them in the mists.

Flaws
Classic I have an addiction.
Horror I know the ends always justify the means and am quick to make sacrifices to attain my goal.

 

 

 

 
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Last edited by ArcZero; May 20th, 2023 at 03:16 PM.
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Old Oct 26th, 2022, 01:39 AM
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OsmundCinderholt OsmundCinderholt is offline
Adult Dragon
 
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Application
Name: Elias d'Cannith
Race: Human (Mark of Making, Dragonmarked House Cannith)
Class: Cleric of Onatar (Forge Domain)
Origin: Cyre 1313

Appearance:
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Elias is a handsome young man of sturdy stock. His frame is of a blacksmith, with broad shoulders and strong arms. His pale skin is speckled with freckles, most of which run across the bridge of his nose. He likes to say a freckle forms each time he strike a hammer-blow. Typical of the House of Cannith, Elias has a shock of red hair which has been cut short. The smith's eyes are an amber shade, and seem to glimmer with fiery intensity. On the inside of his right forearm is the Dragonmark of Making, which is a shimmer blue-green tattoo of sorts that seems to writhe with magical promise.

His attire is of fine make, and he wears a silver signet ring with the gorgon sigil of House Cannith on his left ring finger. He also wears a silver necklace that serves as a holy symbol of the The Sovereign of Fire and Forge, Onatar. Over this all he has a full set of finely made chainmail armor, belted at the waist with a toolbelt that has smithing tools, but also another immaculately forged item, a warhammer. Slung over his shoulder is a backpack of gear and a steel shield with the symbol of Onatar on it's face.

Personality/Traits:
 


Backstory:
 

 


OOC Stuff
Experience: I started in High School in 2004 with 3.5 D&D. My friends and I played a lot of it, but we never played anything Ravenloft. I've since played loads of other systems and iterations of D&D. I've never actually played an iteration of Curse of Strahd, but have watched/listened to podcasts and actual play series on the subject. I've been having fun reading Van Richten's Guide and the other resources online to learn more about the world. What I have played a bunch of was Eberron stuff, and so when I saw that there was a Domain of Dread set on a Lightningrail, I had to play what I knew!

Posting Rate: I can and will do my best to keep up with the pace of the other players, and post a quality post at least two times a week.



Last edited by OsmundCinderholt; Oct 26th, 2022 at 01:34 PM.
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Old Oct 26th, 2022, 02:04 AM
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Ler Khona
Basic DetailsName: Ler Khona, the Shattered Sword
Race: Human
Class: Paladin
Origin: Kartakass


Appearance

And thou art dead, as young and fair
As aught of mortal birth,
And forms so soft and charms so rare,
Too soon return'd to earth


~^~

The man that looks at you through shadowed blue eyes seems barely more than a ghost himself. Or even if the man himself is not a spectre from the netherworld, if he is not an ethereal spirit that would haunt another, then he himself is haunted. Those eyes hold inside them something unspeakable. Something unfathomable. Demons and horrors that only one who has lived inside the Domains of Dread for their entire life the way that Ler has would understand.

The Domains of Dread take their price. A payment of body. One of the flesh. One of the heart. One of the soul.

Ler dresses in the trappings and accoutrements that one would expect a paladin to wear. Armour covers his body from head to toe, and strapped to his back is the sword that he wields. A sword that is wielded with the faith of a god and the belief that he still has inside of himself. Or at least that is what he wants to believe. And this appearance, up front at the very least, would have you believing that in front of you stood a holy warrior. One who was pure in heart, pure in body, and whole in his belief that he had the faith of his religion and his god behind him.

A closer look, however, would reveal this fallacy for what it was. That Ler’s appearance was a lie dressed up in the illusory trappings of a falsehood. Pale skin, gaunt almost as it stretched over bone underneath. Eyes, sunken into his face, almost like a deathshead betray shadows that lie over heart, body and soul.

Listless, lifeless dark hair hangs limply, falling to his shoulders.

An expression that bears with it the hauntings of one who has seen too much. One that hangs on to his faith because it is the only thing that he has left, and this is the truth. For one who has lived his life amongst dancing shadows, painful memories and terrible nightmares, without that faith to cling on to, there would be nothing for him save pitiful madness.


Personality
Supposing that I should have the courage,
To let a red sword of virtue,
Plunge into my heart,
Letting to the weeds of the ground,
My sinful blood,
What can you offer me?
A gardened castle?
A flowery kingdom?
What? A hope?
Then hence with your red sword of virtue.


~^~

It is strange, particularly for a paladin to admit, but virtue is a trait that the Shattered Sword has long since left behind, as it is simply unimportant to him. His world is a world of cold hard practicality. It is one where survival is the most important thing if all, and it is one where he has perfected the strands of his own illusory facade in order to maintain his position within this world of shadows and dark, decaying imagery.

The Shattered Sword is, first and foremost, a lie. He is a weave of constantly confusing imagery and an aura that pervades reality, giving him the appearance of someone who lives with one foot in the world of the living and one foot in the world of the dead. This is not a fallacy, yet it is something that he uses to perpetuate his own self-deceptions and manipulate himself into believing that he is still the shining example of virtue that he wishes that he still was.

Yes, Ler is a paladin. But, he is a paladin that is made and forged inside a realm of haunting dreams and horrific nightmares. He is a paladin that is uniquely made in the image of the Demiplane. Ler Khona is a paladin who strives for an ideal, one that he himself cannot live up to. But it is the desire to be what he wishes he could be that keeps him on the road of goodness and virtue……just. Yet, it is the shadows that swirl around him and lay claim to his heart that are forever tempting him to fall to shadow. And this is a precarious balancing act indeed. Ler Khona stands half in the light, and half in the dark, and it would only take a delicate shove to send him tumbling one way or another.

Ler is very very aware of this. It is something that frightens him more than he would ever be willing to admit, even to himself, even if deep down he knows of the demons that encircle his heart and soul. Life in Ravenloft is hard, and life in Kartakass harder still. Beneath the veneer of civility that Kartakans possess lies a bestial savagery and a dark, beating heart, something that Ler has come to despise about the place he was born and the place that he has lived. The truth of the matter is that he has seen too many friends die, claimed by the darkness that lies at the heart of this twisted realm of lies and deceit.

One in particular, and it is her death that has driven the Shattered Sword to the heart of the shadows that now seek to claim him as their own.



His past consumes him. The land consumes him, and the only way that Ler can deal with this is to turn to the one thing that allows him to stay sane, even as it exacts it’s own price upon him.

Alcohol.

Each and every night Ler drinks himself to unconsciousness. It keeps the nightmares away.

Ler has one more passion. One more thing that helps him keep the demons at bay, even if only temporarily. Ler loves to sing, and has done for as long as he can remember. When he does sing, his voice is loud and clear, and even if for a moment, his voice and the words of his song hold the evils of this twisted land back, for even they cannot pierce the purity of the songs that he sings.

The day that Ler stops singing is the day that he will die.


Backstory
Now life is death and light is dark,
My sins have left their precious mark,
Again I've lost my only one,
I have left you cold,
The shadows won if truth be told,
Once you leave for good,
I let myself drown,
The shadows haunt me,
To my broken glass bed


~^~

Whatever happens. Whatever evil my befall us, whatever the world throws at us, I will defend you with all that I have. I will be there for you no matter what happens. I will not let the world drive us apart. This I do swear, with all that I have and all that I am.

The early parts of Ler’s life are a blur. There is very little there that he can truly remember, yet the oath remains with startling clarity. It is burned across his consciousness like a flame searing through his memories and burning away the man he once was and the man he could have been.

An oath made. An oath broken, to his eternal shame and damnation.

From an early age that oath was all that drove him. The oath he made to her, and although he remembers fleeting memories as they pass him by, memories that fill him with the warmth of light and laughter on the very few occasions that he permits himself to feel anything other than the hollow nothingness that eats away at him from within.

He remembers most of all that she loved his singing. That the sound of his voice would always banish away the darkness and the fears that would always threaten to overwhelm them. It is these memories that he clings to most of all with all that he has. It is these memories that, in his darkest moments when all seems lost reminds him that he is still human.



Kartakass is a cauldron of horrors and animalistic rage hidden beneath thin illusory strands of culture and civility. Ler understood from an early age that what he was seeing was a carefully manufactured façade that was designed to draw attention away from the dark savagery that lay at the heart of Kartakass’s decadent, hate-filled society. That the songs and the pieces of art commissioned by high-paying burgomeisters to passionate artisans were all designed to tap into the primal animalistic rage that many inhabitants were subjected to and struggled to contain, that is if they even wanted to contain their dualistic nature.

Yet even in this hate-filled cesspool of brutality there were some shining lights. She was one of them. Her name was Tara, and she helped keep the worst of his nature at bay as he did for her. He loved her, although to his shame he never confided this secret to her.

They should have been a united front against the horrors of Kartakan society. While the two of them were pledged to keep each other safe from the evil of this place that pledge and that oath was ultimately broken. The evil in Kartakass ultimately claimed Tara’s life, and Ler was powerless to stop it. Another broken pledge in a land of broken promises.



The nightmares started soon after, and inside them Ler saw her, every night, hands outstretched towards him as she implored, nay begged, him to save her. Ler tried his best, he tried every night to save her, but he was always too slow. Always too slow. And so Ler watched her die, night after night.



Perhaps deep down Ler understands that if he can save her, just one night, in his dreams…if he can save her from the death that waits for her each and every night, this curse of nightmares will be broken, and his Tara will be returned to him as if she had never left. But each night he fails, and each night he watches her die again. In truth, Ler cannot do the impossible and he cannot turn back time, she will always always lie there, just outside the grasp of his outstretched fingers as she dies anew.

So it was that Ler turned to alcohol as a recourse against the nightmares. Determined to block them out, he drinks himself into insensibility each and every night so they can’t hurt him again. Over time, his use of alcohol has turned into a dependency, one that he himself can’t break free from, even if he wanted to. It’s success is questionable, yes there are nights he is so drunk that he falls into unconsciousness and does not dream, but even this respite is only temporary. The nightmares come back eventually, as they always do.



Over time, Ler came to a realisation. He began to realise that if he stayed in Kartakass he would die, and that was something he wasn’t going to do. Not yet, not in Kartakass, her memory would not allow him that. One day, Ler steeled his resolve and his heart. Gripping the last reminder of Tara he still had, a locket with her name engraved on it, he walked to the misty border. With a deep breath he stepped forwards into the mist.

He never looked back.



For how long he walked, he had no idea. Inside the mists both distance and direction mean nothing, not when you are lost as deeply as Ler was. Yet, eventually he came out the other side, to murky swamplands and a strange structure looming out of the fetid water on stilts. Realising at this point that the locket was gone, Ler, beside himself, climbed the ladder to the odd wooden building. With a deep breath, he opened the door and entered….



Other InformationExperience: I’ve spent more time than is healthy playing D&D, and a lot of that time has been spent in the dark realms of Ravenloft. I probably have more knowledge and lore of the setting than is rightly healthy to have.


Last edited by DaniLore; Jun 6th, 2023 at 12:48 PM.
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Old Oct 30th, 2022, 03:30 AM
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Source: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/LAK1w
Sheet: https://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=91912

Name: Ida Blieckhaus

Race: Human

Class: Artificer

Origin: Lamordia

Appearance: Ida comes from hardy peasant stock, and retains a robust, thick-limbed build that was perhaps atypical among the other cloistered academics at Ludendorf University. Her skin and hair are pallid, as common for Lamordians, and unadorned with makeup or styling. Her clothing is similarly utilitarian, made of tough and easily-cleaned material, as fit for the rugged outdoors as it is for the laboratory. Her left eye is a blue gray more akin to tobacco smoke than the sky. Her right eye's pupil and iris are indistinguishably black against an off-white sclera.

 

Background: Ida Blieckhaus (EE-da BLEEK-house) was born in Ludendorf to a whaler and a factory worker, the latter of whom died in childbirth. Her father, Ulrich Blieckhaus, was the captain of his whaling vessel and, from a young age, took Ida with him on whale hunts as a cabin girl. Despite the danger, hard work, and low pay, Ulrich was gratified by the companionship, responsibility, and consistency of his profession, but Ida grew more and more dissatisfied as she aged. Her mind demanded challenge and mystery. In her early adulthood, after a hunt went bad and a whale nearly capsized her father's boat, Ida told him she wanted to study at Ludendorf University. It broke his heart, and she saw it, but he accepted it. Paying for Ida's tuition took all the money the family had - they had to spend all of their savings, call in all of their favours, and go into debts they would never pay off: Ulrich mortgaged his boat and Ida sold flesh rights to her body. Ida herself nearly killed herself studying for the entrance exams. And yet, when she was finally accepted, she felt no pride, elation, or relief; she only knew the real work would begin now.

Ida was an anomoly within the University; others were children of factory barons or came from generations of education. Ida waffled between hiding her origins or playing them up to impress others with how far she'd come. Despite her sacrifices and studies, however, she was nothing special; a competent researcher and laboratory assistant, but no visionary. As the years wore on, she became plagued with self-doubt, wondering if she had been an imposter all along and, in truth, really was nothing more than one of the interchangeable labourers outside the University's walls. It only got worse when she was informed that her father had died on a hunting trip. After everything he'd sacrificed for her, he never even saw her prove herself. Most of what Ulrich owned was taken to pay his debts, including his boat and his body, but she collected a few mementos and kept them in her dorm, even as she chided herself for the pointless sentimentality of it.

Perhaps he had sensed this vulnerability. Klaus Wolfhaut, a senior student from a powerful baron family and contender to become Dr. Viktra Mordenheim's lab assistant, requested Ida aid him in a project inspired by Dr. Mordenheim's early notes. Ida had aided in many projects before, of course, but this one demanded secrecy and work after hours in laboratories provided by bribed or politically influenced faculty. Klaus implied that Ida's "unique perspective" would be invaluable to the project and promised renown once it was completed and he could reveal his findings. Ida agreed. Her role turned out to be the observation and careful application of alchemical reagents to a living man writhing in agony. By introducing specific chemicals to the brain and nervous system, Klaus explained to Ida, one could induce psionic abilities in a subject that had none before. Ida observed that these psionic abilities seemed proportional to the utter agony the chemicals induced in the subject. As Ida watched, the patient screamed and begged for death, but Klaus continued on with his experiments unabated, teasing various psionic effects from his suffering. It was nightmarish - and revolutionary. If one could induce this state in hundreds or thousands of people, Klaus crowed, imagine what it would mean for Lamordia!

Ida understood the potential. She knew her place was to seek knowledge and advancement at any cost. Just having her name attached to this project would make her famous. Yet, stangely, she couldn't stop wondering what her father would think of what she'd seen. She slept poorly, lapsed in her studies, and was wracked as the project neared its completion.

When it came time for Klaus to reveal his project to the University's staff, it was a disaster. The chemicals had scarcely been applied to the patient before he suffered a catastrophic reaction and died. It seems that someone had secretly dosed the patient with another chemical reagent that would react poorly to Klaus's. Klaus was humiliated in front of the staff, his discovery disregarded. In addition, it seemed someone had broken into his dorm room and destroyed his notes. Klaus was furious and promised revenge, but Ida wasn't there to see it. She'd already cleared out her room and left, traveling to Lamordia's borders and entering the Mists. She didn't know what she would face there, but her life in Lamordia was over.

Experience: I've been playing D&D since the early 2000s, when I started with 3.5. I played for about ten years, but then there was a big gap, and I only got back into D&D a couple years ago. In the mean time, I've played several other game systems, mostly Mutants and Masterminds and Palladium. I've played some Ravenloft homebrew and recently picked up Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft, but I know very little about Curse of Strahd except that it's very popular and it has a vampire in it.

Posting Rate: I can do three times a week or more if the game moves quickly enough. Sometimes, however, I suffer from analysis paralysis.


Last edited by Snicker; Nov 4th, 2022 at 02:21 PM. Reason: Shh, it's a secret!
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Old Feb 4th, 2023, 07:01 AM
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Name: This is nothing more than an onomatopoeia of the haggard breathing sounds emanating from beneath his bone mask. Even in his most lucid of mental states Haas has no memory of any names or titles he might have held before his time in the Gravelands.Haas
Race: Human (Variant)/Wererat
Class: Combat focused. Great Weapon Master.Blood Hunter (Eventually Order of the Lycan)
Origin: Falkovnia
Touchstones: Geralt of Rivia, Max Rockatansky (Fury Road), Valkos (Glass Cannon's "Haunted City" Blades in the Dark Actual Play)
Appearance: No one would fault a passing stranger for mistaking the dark, hulking, heaving form of Haas for a nightmare manifest. In a way, perhaps, he is exactly that. Over six feet tall, the permanently hunched... human? exaggerates each and every wet, ragged breath with the conspicuous rise and fall of his shoulders. What little clothing he wears is dirty. Torn, shoddily patched, caked in grime, and then re-torn, whatever colors or materials his duster and leggings originally were are now lost to the ages. Bare hands, and bare feet carry the residue of the land with him until rain or a dunk in the nearest body of water reveals streaks of pallid, greyish skin.

But before any of that there is the mask. Unmistakably the first thing to be noticed upon sight, the elongated snout, flat teeth, and swooping horns suggest some sort of goat creature... or perhaps a bull? Whatever its source, bone obscures Haas' entire face, save a shock of oily, unkempt hair he keeps slicked back past his neck.

And his eyes. Wild eyes... deranged eyes, that belie the deranged soul behind.

The only other accoutrement of note for this particular blood hunter would be his sword. The two-handed, elongated cleaver-like blade is as much nicks and pits as it is edge and steel. What's more, it's just as likely to be found dragging behind him in the muck as holstered across his back. Perhaps proper care and maintenance of his tools is one of many lost habits? Best to give him the benefit of the doubt and not ask, lest you risk offense...

Background: Haunted OnePersonality: The sentient mind can only carry so much stress, buckling under the weight before eventually fracturing... Residents of the Domains of Dread carry more than most. Haas' mind is in Harrowing Event: I was lost to the Gravelands for longer than is considered healthy... Relatively speaking, of course. Whether for days or decades, who can tell? Time became meaningless. Sleep became a luxury rarely sampled. The constant struggle for survival broke my mind and stole my memories.another class all its own. While technically still a functioning, conscious individual, the definitions of those words have been stretched to their limits. Much like whatever functioning neurons he has left.

Most times his actions only make sense if one attributes Personality Trait: I have two attention spans; eerily fixated and anxiously inattentive with no middle ground.
Personality Trait (Horror): I'm easily startled, but I'm not a coward!
the instincts of the beast to his motives. One moment he may be caught staring at the object of his attention for an uncomfortably long silence. Disturbingly similar to a predator eyeing its next meal... Then, without warning, he seems to be jumping at shadows, as if prey ready to flee at the slightest perceived threat. It is not uncommon for that Ideals: There is no leisure. There is no recreation. Requiescence is death. There is only vigilant survival.
Ideal (Horror): I've lived this way for so long that I can't imagine another way. In fact, I may very well flee from my best interests out of fear of change!
proverbial coin to flip in the same breath, even.

In a similar vein, Flaw: I see little value in risking my life without a clear benefit. This includes when innocent lives are in danger.altruism has no place in Haas' heart or mind. Doing Good for its own sake is a fool's road to a fool's death. If he were to take part in something that could be misconstrued as selfless, or in direct confrontation to Flaw (Horror): I'm convinced something is after me, appearing in mirrors, dreams, and places where no one could.his worst fears, there is no doubt a logic ladder that has justified his actions for his own self-interest.

Despite his animalistic nature, or perhaps in service to it, Haas retains several "human" qualities. Should he encounter others that clearly demonstrate the ability to survive in these unforgiving places he is capable of Bond: I will latch on desperately to those who can keep me alive.forming pack-like bonds, complete with their own hierarchies, even if they exist solely in his own head. He also clings to certain... dreams? delusions? of his former life. Nothing so concrete as names or faces, mind you. More fleeting remnants of some ephemeral Bond (Horror): Though I can't remember names or faces, I know deep in my gut that somewhere there is a clan... a family... who misses me.sense of "belonging" that ultimately drives him forward instead of laying down to die peacefully.

Backstory:
 

Secrets...


Haas, Level 1 Human Blood HunterCharacter Sheet Link
Hit Points: 15/15 | d10Hit Dice: 1/1 | AC: While wearing scale mail armor.16 | Speed: 30 feet | Hemocraft DC: 13 | Hemocraft Die: d4
Proficiency Bonus: +2 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Skills: Perception (13) | Investigation (11) | Insight (15)

Features & Traits: Haunted One Background

Those who look into your eyes can see that you have faced unimaginable horror and that you are no stranger to darkness. Though they might fear you, commoners will extend you every courtesy and do their utmost to help you. Unless you have shown yourself to be a danger to them, they will even take up arms to fight alongside you, should you find yourself facing an enemy alone.
Heart of Darkness | You have advantage on Wisdom (Perception) checks that rely on smell.Keen Smell | You have advantage on Wisdom (Survival) checks to track fey, fiends, or undead, as well as on Intelligence checks to recall information about such creatures.Hunter's Bane | You know one blood curse of your choice, detailed in the “Blood Curses” section at the end of the class description. You learn one additional blood curse of your choice at 6th, 10th, 14th, and 18th level. Each time you learn a new blood curse, you can also choose one of the blood curses you know and replace it with another blood curse.

Each time you use your Blood Maledict feature, you choose which curse to invoke from the curses you know. While invoking a blood curse, but before it affects the target, you can choose to amplify the curse by taking necrotic damage equal to one roll of your hemocraft die. This damage can’t be reduced in any way. An amplified curse gains an additional effect, noted in the curse’s description. Creatures that do not have blood are immune to blood curses unless you have amplified the curse.

Once you use this feature, you must finish a short or long rest before you can use it again. You can use Blood Maledict twice between rests starting at 6th level, three times starting at 13th level, and four times starting at 17th level.
Blood Maledict: 1/1 | Blood Curses: As a bonus action, you mark a creature that you can see within 30 feet of you. Until the end of your turn, whenever you hit the cursed creature with a weapon for which you have an active crimson rite, you roll an additional hemocraft die when determining the extra damage from the rite.

Amplify. The next attack roll you make against the target before the end of your turn has advantage.
Curse of the Marked | Feats: Your hit point maximum increases by an amount equal to twice your level when you gain this feat. Whenever you gain a level thereafter, your hit point maximum increases by an additional 2 hit points.Tough | Dark Gifts: You are haunted by spiritual beings, whether the souls of the departed or entities from another plane. Their voices endlessly whisper, taunt, or cajole, sometimes rising to unearthly howls. Only you can perceive the spirits, unless you allow them to speak through you. The spirits are intangible and invisible; anyone who can see invisible creatures sees only fleeting glimpses of these spirits as they haunt you.

Spirit Whispers: You learn the Message cantrip if you don't already know it, and require no components to cast it. When you cast the spell, the messages are delivered by one of your whispering spirits rather than you or the target's voice. Your spellcasting ability for this spell is Intelligence, Wisdom, or Charisma (your choice when you gain this Dark Gift).

Sudden Cacophony (1/1): When you are hit by an attack roll, you can use your reaction to channel your haunting spirits, letting their voices howl through you. If the attacker isn't deafened, add your proficiency bonus to your AC against that attack, potentially causing it to miss. Once this trait causes an attack to miss, you can't use the trait again until you finish a long rest.

Voices from Beyond (1/1): Immediately after you make an attack roll, an ability check, or a saving throw and roll a 1 on the d20, the haunting voices grow too loud to ignore. Roll on the Voices from Beyond table to determine the effect of these voices. Once one of these effects occurs, none of these haunting voices manifest again until you finish a short or long rest.
  1. You have disadvantage on the next attack roll, ability check, or saving throw you make.
  2. You are deafened by the voices for 1 minute.
  3. You are frightened of the creature closest to you, other than yourself, until the end of your next turn. If multiple creatures are closest, the DM chooses which creature you are frightened of.
  4. Within the next 10 minutes, you can ask your spirits about the results of a specific course of action that you plan to take within the next 30 minutes. You can receive an omen as if you had cast the Augury spell. The omen manifests as whisperings from your spirits perceptible only to you.
Gathering Whispers
Gear: +5 to-hit | 2d6+3 slashing damage
Martial, Heavy, Two-handed
Greatsword | +3 to-hit | 1d8+1 piercing damage | Range: 80/320
Simple, Ammunition, Loading, Two-handed
Light Crossbow | Medium Armor | AC +4 | Disadvantage on Stealh checksScale Mail | Alchemist's Supplies, Bedroll, Mess Kit, Rations (10), Hemp Rope (50 feet), Tinderbox, Torch (10), WaterskinPack | Crowbar, Hammer, Holy Water, Manacles, Steel Mirror, Oil Flask, Wooden Stake (9), Tinderbox, Torch (3)Chest | 130 gold piecesCoin Pouch
Ability Scores & Saving Throws: +3 | +3STR 16 | +2 | +4DEX 14 | +3 | +3CON 17 | +1 | +3INT 13 | +3 | +3WIS 17 | +2 | +2CHA 14
Skill Proficiencies: Arcana (+3) | Athletics (+5) | Insight (+5) | Religion (+3) | Survival (+5) | Light Armor, Medium Armor, Shields, Martial Weapons, Simple Weapons, Alchemist's SuppliesOther Proficiencies | Common, Primoridal, Sylvan, UndercommonLanguages
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Current Character: Lazarus Gault | Haas
He/Him | I have taken the Oath of Sangus

Last edited by MoldyNolds; Dec 13th, 2023 at 03:33 PM. Reason: Amending statblock
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Old Feb 13th, 2023, 09:44 PM
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Art (c) Mona Finden
Name: Vilheim Elric Strann'yaztal, “Heim Halfhand”

Race: aka Mark of HospitalityHin's Blessing Halfling

Class: Sorcerer

Origin: Rivalis of Darkon

Background:
Classic 1) I have an unquenchable spirit of optimism, no matter what obstacle I face.
2) I tend to think out of the box, going against convention and popular opinion.
Horror I want to make a difference in the world, and I’d go to extreme lengths to prove myself.

Ideals
Classic Greater Good. Whatever I do, I do for the good of the many. (Chaotic)
Horror Innovation. I’m inclined to push limits and break taboo because that’s what I really find exhilarating, intriguing, tantalizing; the forbidden.

Bonds
Classic Nobody else needs to die because of me.
Horror When push comes to shove, I’d rather sacrifice myself - or my soul - than let a friend do the same.

Flaws
Classic I think laws and authorities don’t apply to me.
Horror I know that actions have consequences. Sooner or later, my failures will catch up to me…

 


 


 
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Old Mar 16th, 2023, 12:21 PM
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Name: Ragman Beob, Beobachterin

Race: Just a normal fellow human, like yourself. Why, uh, do you ask...?

Class: Paladin (intending to multiclass into one other class of either Cleric/Sorcerer/Wizard/Warlock)

Feat: Heavy Armor Master, or; Resilient, or; Tough

Origin: Falkovnia

Appearance: He's called The Ragman for a reason. An odd, quiet fellow - pleasant enough - equipped with sword and shield, but completely covered in frayed wraps and rag strips.


They're more of bandages, really. Most of his forearms and face are covered in them, and where they're not, his skin shows scarring and some sort of old bruising. But he seems to carry himself comfortably enough, so it musn't be any recent injury. A plague perhaps? But there are no coughing fits or fevered itching. In a land full of so many unspeakable and unknown threats, he could be an intimidating figure, if only he weren't so subdued. Head hung low. Speaking only as loud as the barkeep or merchant directly in front of him. And when he does speak, it's surprisingly... polite. Gentle. Melodic, even, like a singer at rest.

Even when he's challenged. When his weapons and armor aren't enough of a display - and he has to show that he is in fact capable of recovering this stolen heirloom or fending off that banditry - Beob puffs out his chest and projects his voice with so much posturing that it's obvious he's only trying to be as intimidating as he wishes he could be.

Despite his full size, it's the approach of a youth that's seen much hardship but is trying their best to put on a strong face in a big world.

Beob moves a bit absently. A shamble, almost. He must really be lost in thought. Or has one of his legs gone bad?

Now that you mention it... does his armor fit unevenly? The armor itself looks uniform. Is it that... one arm is bigger than the other? And one leg slightly longer than the other leg...? Must be a trick of the queasy, uneven lighting in here.

What a strange sight he is. And smell. A touch of mildew, like a basement... how often does he change those wraps? Probably easier to avoid him for his oddities than for any overt danger he may or may not pose.

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Personality/Traits: Ragman Beob is more of a follower than a leader. Literally - he's likely to follow the most outspoken and confident of any group. Sullen-seeming and reserved, but after making his acquaintance (and showing that you're not going to chase him out of town with torch and pitchfork), he shows that he's really bright-eyed and curious about the world.

And naive. Aloof. Well meaning, at least, which is unique among the sullen and colorless of the Lands of Dread. But some of the questions Beob asks of traveling companions - with a completely unsuspecting expression - makes it clear that either this strange, gentle, and very-bandaged man is either truly sheltered from the world, or he's not entirely there in the head. "Say, Everard... how do the villagers keep the cattle from uprising in a revolt? Just, you know, hypothetically." "Hey Everard - can't you just pack that wound in salt?" "Oh, Everard! Maybe we can just ask them to stop waylaying the townsfolk!"

... How has this Ragman survived this long on his own, anyways?

Perhaps more weird than how concealed he keeps his face is his obvious optimism. Not overflowing with cheer or mirth. Something almost more alarming. A subtle hopefulness? Beob does seem to look for the potential in others as casually as others seem to have forsaken their own potential.

Any who venture out with Beob for more than a day would know that he talks about having a wide variety of jobs in the past. If allowed to, he'll talk on and on and on to no real end. He was a crab fisherman on the coast. A carpenter in the big city. A homemaker, for a time. There's no real thread between them. Throughout all of it, however, he's been a traveler for as long as he can remember.

There was however a time when he did finally rest his soles, and he lived in a big house as a manservant for someone very fancy-seeming, who was very nice and very pretty. Beob must not have been one for too much orderliness, since he left that gig rather quickly. Returned the road, Beob is not drawn to money or glory, but rather to any usefulness he can do for others.

Dare it be said: he's searching for some greater good to be done...?

Background: Haunted One
  • Personality, Classic: I am haunted by my tortured past, and wake at night screaming at half-remembered horrors.
  • Personality, Horror: I'm easily startled, but I'm not a coward.

  • Ideals, Classic: Compassionate. I have suffered long at the hands of horrible things, and take pity and compassion on the suffering of others.
  • Ideals, Horror: Promise. My life is no longer my own. I must fulfill the dream of someone who is gone.

  • Bonds, Classic: A terrible guilt consumes me. I hope that I can find redemption through my actions.
  • Bonds, Horror: I owe much to my vanished mentor. I seek to continue their work even as I search to find them. / I deeply miss someone and am quick to adopt people who remind me of them.

  • Flaws, Classic: I've struggled with my past identity for so long that I don't fully know myself anymore.
  • Flaws, Horror: I need to find the best in everyone and everything, even when that means denying obvious malice.

Experience: have dabbled in DnD for many years, played heavily in DnD computer games in the past ~25 years, played tabletop more heavily in the past ~15 years. Probably too familiar with Forgotten Realms lore off the top of my head. Enjoying exploring new worlds and systems

Posting Rate: Happy to pace with the group

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Beobachterin, Level 1 ??? Paladin
 
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cottontailwind's PC: "So there's this thing called a collective bargaining unit..." GM: "No unionizing the kobolds!"

Last edited by cottontailwind; Mar 31st, 2023 at 05:22 PM.
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Old May 18th, 2023, 11:08 AM
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ihinka ihinka is offline
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Kosara ‘Hagbane’ Rusnova
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Name: Kosara ‘Hagbane’ Rusnova
Race: Hexblood
Class: Witch/Natural Magic Coven (souce)
Origin: Tepest
Background: Personality Traits: I was, in fact, raised by wolves… Well, an old woodland crone anyway.
Horror Personality Trait - I must know the answer to every secret. No door remains unopened in my presence.

Ideals: Change. Life is like the seasons, in constant change, and we must change with it. (Chaotic)
Revelation — I need to know what lies beyond the mysteries of death, the world, or the mists.

Bonds: I will bring terrible wrath down on all hags.
Horror Bond - I’ve seen great darkness, and I’m committed to being a light against it—the light of all lights.

Flaws: I will get distracted by mysterious, fascinating woodland phenomena, be it of animal, plantlike or any other nature.
Horror Flaw - I’m convinced something is after me, appearing in mirrors, dreams, and places where no one could.
”Forest Outlander”

Personality: Kosara has lived most of her formative years and adult live alone in the forest with nothing but the trees and animals to keep her company. Back then she’d had no concept of the dangers and horrors that lurked in Tepest at each step. This, of course, had changed as she grew. And even though Sara resented her mother to this day, for abandoning her, she also understood the act for what it had been. An act of desperation from a woman terrified out of her mind.

Sara’s loyalty may be hard-won, but once obtained, is fierce and boundless.

Appearance: At 5’9’’ Kosara is not a diminutive woman. She is fit from all the running around in the forest. Her usual garb is a leather outfit that provides for a free range of motion with a leather crop top and leather skirt. Leather twines cover her legs and most of her arms. Leather sandals on her feet and an animal skin shoulder cloak finish off the ensemble.

History:
 



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