[D&D-5e] Seasons in Saltmarsh

[GNOME]

I dunno if we should make character sheets already or not?

[Inuvash255]

Nah, you don't need a character sheet to apply.

[Raada]

I have a bit of an odd question, I don't know too much about the Saltmarsh Campaigns, so forgive me if this is obvious. What kind of campaign were you looking to run, I mean along the spectrum of spontaneous and meandering to focused on completion? Just out of curiosity.

[RJonesy]

half pint hairdresser Ambrose Thripp Race: Ghostwise Halfing Gender: Male Class: Cleric, Grave Domain Background: Guild Artisan/ Haunted One At the bustling center of every town of a certain size you’ll find a barber’s shop, a place for beards to be freshly shaved and fresh gossip to be freely traded. In the town of Saltmarsh that shop is called Thripp’s Snips, and the barber at the center of the activity is Ambrose Thripp. Fresh faced and sharp tongued, Ambrose is the cheerful ringleader of his shop’s ever shifting circus of townsfolk. Short in stature but big in personality Ambrose is more than just a tender of hair. The halfling also provides services that range from blood letting to teeth extraction to minor amputations. He prides himself on being a jack of all trades when it comes to serving the wide range of needs in the town of Saltmarsh, and whether it’s trimming the moustache of the town mayor or applying leeches to expectant mothers, he always provides customer service with a smile and a quick joke. On any given day you can find Ambrose standing behind the counter of his shop, jars of mirror finish razors gleaming brightly in the lamp light. His soft brown hair frames a face which always seems to have a perpetually crooked smile, and his crisp white shirt is rolled up to his elbows where a soft leather apron, lightly bloodstained, hangs down to his boot tops. Though most townsfolk would have difficulty remembering a time before Ambrose’s shop, in truth its only been a few years since he arrived in town. You’d be hard pressed to get a straight answer from him about where he’d come from, or what exactly his whereabouts were before arriving in Saltmarsh. Truthfully Ambrose can never stay in one place for long and, as much as he enjoys the bright commotion of daily life in his shop, he's never happier than when on the open road, destination unknown. If you look closely at the corner of his shop you’d see a black leather satchel, worn soft with age and use. Occasionally Ambrose will glance at the bag, knowing that when the time comes, he can pick up his bag, walk out the door of his shop, and not look back.

RP   Trait: I'm full of witty aphorisms and have a proverb for every occasion. Trait: I believe that anything worth doing is worth doing right. I can't help it – I'm a perfectionist. Ideal: Freedom. Everyone should be free to pursue his or her own livelihood. Bond: I would sacrifice my life and my soul to protect the innocent. Flaw: I talk to spirits that no one else can see.   Ambrose is almost finished cleaning up for the day when the door to his shop bangs open. A woman rushes in, almost bent over with a weight so heavy she carries it in both arms. In his surprise it takes Ambrose a moment to realize that what the woman is carrying is a child, and that the child is very still. “Help him! Please help him,” the woman moans with desperation, her eyes wild. “The doctor is away, and I don’t know who else to turn to. I think he is dying!” Ambrose’s eyes flicker to the child. His eyes are closed, his lips a pale blue. With a grimace the halfling sweeps his arm across the shop’s front counter, clearing a makeshift surgical table . “Set him down here,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. Ambrose’s fears are quickly confirmed as he looks closely at the boy. His skin is so pale it is almost translucent, and as he lays his hand on his slender wrist not even the faintest thread of a heartbeat can be found. The halfing rolls up his sleeves, revealing a tattoo of a jackal on the inside of his right forearm. The ink of the image glows with the faintest luminescence. The woman, however, is too panicked to notice. He gives her a gentle glance, "Tell me what happened to your boy.” “He’d gone out into the fields to check on the goats last night and never came home! We could find no trace of him though I searched all night and all day, everywhere I could think of. Finally I walked the fields again this evening, and I found a soft place in the turf where he had fallen through into a cave hidden underneath. We hauled him out, but it had already been so long! Just look at him now! My boy, oh my poor boy!” As the woman speaks Ambrose slowly closes his eyes, his palms resting on the boy’s still chest. Under his breath he mumbles words too soft for anyone but himself to hear. Though night has already fallen, the sky outside the shop seems to grow a shade darker. From across town the rising howl of a single dog can be heard. With a sudden ferocity like a silent clap of thunder the darkness outside gathers into a physical form, lancing from the night sky into Ambrose’s body where it spiderwebs into the boy, covering every surface of him with a delicate lace of black energy. Later that night Ambrose sits resting in the worn leather of his barber’s chair, languishing in the quiet. His muscles still thrum gently with the memory of earlier events. The woman had been grateful, to be certain, and as she held the now living boy in her embrace she’d cried tears of real joy. As she left though, he’d caught sight of a look which had become familiar to him over the years. A look of concern, of suspicion… and of fear.

[Inuvash255]

Originally Posted by Raada

I have a bit of an odd question, I don't know too much about the Saltmarsh Campaigns, so forgive me if this is obvious. What kind of campaign were you looking to run, I mean along the spectrum of spontaneous and meandering to focused on completion? Just out of curiosity.

I think it's a good question.

I'm not sure if I said it previously, but the campaign is a list of best-of D&D adventures, refurbished to fit the Saltmarsh setting and 5th edition. Around the town, there's a lot of little plot hooks and opportunities for side-quest adventures, exploration of the town, and intrigue.

I don't want to say I'm aiming for completion of the entire campaign- as that's probably a multi-year goal at the rate of weekly/biweekly PbP even without meandering; and, realistically, really anything can happen in that stretch of time in terms of myself or the group.

Instead, my goal is to complete the first adventure at least, and if we keep going beyond that- awesome!

As stated in the opening post, I do want to encourage and take part in more casual, less-focused roleplaying and creative writing on the side - just for the sake of fun and such.

[Raada]

That sounds perfect, if you don't mind my saying so. Thank you!

[Cedric]

Good call Inu, let's see where this story takes those who get accepted, completion is a long shot.
I'm in Carrion Crown AP with Sass, we started in 2013 and we still have to finish book 2 of 6, so... yeah these things tend to take time if they manage to survive the first 3 months.

On a side note, I think my character is ready, might put some tweaking to it if I find the time, if you're doing feedbacks I'd love one.

Originally Posted by Inuvash255

I think it's a good question.

I'm not sure if I said it previously, but the campaign is a list of best-of D&D adventures, refurbished to fit the Saltmarsh setting and 5th edition. Around the town, there's a lot of little plot hooks and opportunities for side-quest adventures, exploration of the town, and intrigue.

I don't want to say I'm aiming for completion of the entire campaign- as that's probably a multi-year goal at the rate of weekly/biweekly PbP even without meandering; and, realistically, really anything can happen in that stretch of time in terms of myself or the group.

Instead, my goal is to complete the first adventure at least, and if we keep going beyond that- awesome!

As stated in the opening post, I do want to encourage and take part in more casual, less-focused roleplaying and creative writing on the side - just for the sake of fun and such.

[anamiac]

Character name: Vix Lockhardt

Character Concept: WildhuntShifter druid urban bounty hunter. Was head over heals for her bounty hunting partner, but to her dismay he's fallen for a prostitute. They're getting married presently, and Vix is looking for any excuse to get out of town for a while.

Appearance:
One look at Vix and you realize that everyone you ever thought was a redhead was actually an orangehead. Without any evidence of dye, her head sports an impossibly vibrant red mane, cascading down off her shoulders and back. Peeking out from beneath her bangs, those large orange pupils are reflective, tiny mirrors, especially at night. Her face is young, no freckles, with a small nose. She smells faintly like laundry that got left out in a rainstorm.

Around town she typically wears a hat or beanie and a dress. But you know a guardsman that saw her in her armor when she delivered a bounty. He described her as having fluffy animal ears positioned too high on her head, and long bushy tail.



RP Samples:

 

It had been many moons since she'd seen a break this bad. Half the sticks on the long side of the cage were broken. Vix sighed. "Do we have all the pieces?" She could repair what was broken. She couldn't replace stuff that was simply gone.

Together they gathered the broken pieces into a pile, separating the sticks from the twine. While her father sorted the sticks she took two small pieces of twine that had been together before. She stuck the ends together, then allowed her magic to flow into it, knitting the strands back together until the twine was a single piece again. Then she moved on to the next piece. "So, which one of you was it this time?"

Her father gave her a wry smile. "Your mother, definitely. I distinctly remember being entirely good the entire time."

She smiled. They couldn't remember their time in the cage. Looking over at the pile he was sorting she she pulled out a stick featuring bite marks. "No, I don't think so. Look here. Mom's bite isn't this large. You did this." Vix sighed, and focused on the stick, the magic working out the indentations as it gradually smoothed. "I may have helped." Her father shrugged.

They worked silently for several minutes. Finished with the sorting, Uriah Lockhardt got up and began tying some of the sticks that she'd repaired back into the cage. Picking out the next stick, she was dismayed to see it was broken lengthwise. "Daaad" she lamented "I can't fix this. It's broken the wrong way, the break's too long." She held it up for him to see.

"Well, look at that." Her father came over and gave the sticks a mock inspection, before pulling a small tuft of fur out of the splinters of one of them. "See? I told you it was your mother." He grinned at her, but she wasn't grinning back. Slowly, he put the sticks down. "What's eating you, Vix?"

She turned away. How did he do that? She hadn't really realized that she was frustrated, he had figured it out before she herself did. Why was she frustrated? "I don't know." She admitted. "I'm just... I thought you and mom were getting better. We haven't had a breakout for half a year, and now this."

Uriah frowned at her. "You know we have no control over it. None at all. That isn't going to change. There's no cure for our condition." He sat down so that his gaze would be at her level. "I haven't heard this from you before. Are you frustrated now, or have you always hated repairing the cage and you just hid it better before?"

She thought about it. It had been difficult at first, but after repetition she'd gotten much better at her magic. "I enjoy being able to help. It's just... I'm not sure if I want to help forever."

"Hmmm." Her father mused. "Could it be, that you feel restrained by this?" He paused, considering his next words carefully. "We appreciate what you do, Vix." He picked up a stick and held it out. "But we could find other sticks. It isn't that far to the forest. And we could replace the twine with new twine if necessary." He began fastening the stick back into the cage. "I can't believe how fast you've grown up, but I have to admit you're not my little kit anymore. You understand the wilds, and have a talent for druidcraft that's quite rare, even in these parts. I think you're capable of looking after yourself. Have you thought about what you want to do, where you want to go?"

Vix sighed. "A little, yea. I want to see the world. I don't want to spend my whole life looking at the forest and the sea and the cliffs. The other week when I was in Saltmarsh, I saw a person with horns on his head, like a cow. He was buying fish, but I don't even know what kind of person he was! I want to know things."

"That's fair" said her father. "Knowledge is a valuable thing. But it's expensive too. The trick is getting someone else to pay for it, instead of buying it yourself. How will you support yourself when you're out seeing the world?"

"I don't know." She admitted, and looked down at her hands. "I don't want to be a hunter, like you were. I could collect seashells and herbs for trade, like mother occasionally does."

"You could, although I think she's already collected all the seashells for miles." Uriah thought for a minute. "Do you remember those men who came through last fall, when they were chasing after that horse-thief? They never found him. Got lost in the forest. But you never get lost, do you? You know more about tracking than anyone in Saltmarsh, and they don't have your nose."

"I don't understand." Vix scrunched her nose. "If someone stole my horse, I'd chase after them. But I don't own a horse. And I don't see how that is really relevant to getting someone else to pay for my knowledge."

"He didn't steal the horse from those men." Uriah explained. "He stole it from Mafera the Blacksmith. She lodged a complaint with the council, and they created a bounty on the thief. If the men had found the thief they could have collected the bounty and that's a considerable sum of money. Bounty hunters see the world Vix, and they see it on somebody else's shilling. Be warned that it can be dangerous work at times, but I've seen what you can do. I think you're well suited to it. How about we make a trip into town tomorrow? There's someone I'd like you to meet."

 

Furtunately, Vix had never feared heights. With one end tied firmly to the tree - just in case - and the other round her waist, Buregon lowered her over the ledge. About ten feet down she saw Tredian, just where her nose had told her she would. There was a fissure in the stone and a small ledge, just a few feet across. Apparently the Halfling didn't fear heights either, he was sleeping like a baby. Her bright orange eyes scanned his form, but he didn't seem to have any weapons on him. Good. They could do this the easy way. "Tredian, wake up!" She called out to him. He stirred, opened one eye a slit and glanced around, then opened both eyes wide as he saw her standing horizontally against the stone. "Morning sleepyhead!" She said with a sardonic grin.

Tredian swore. "How did you find me?" He swore again, bitterly. "I didn't mean to do it, you have to believe me! I just got so angry. You don't know what it's like! To find out that these children that you've been raising aren't really your own and all this time, she's been lying to you..."

She shook her head. "Nope, I can't say that I know what it's like. But you're wasting your breath. I don't care. You'll have plenty of time to tell the story to the council. And you'll have an opportunity to apologize in the town square. My job isn't to listen to your story man. I'm bringing you in." She gathered the loose end of the rope, coiled it, and tossed it at the halfling's feet.

Tredian didn't move to pick it up. "I don't want to go back. They'll hang me. You can't make me." He leaned out and looked over the edge, down at the rocky shore hundreds of feet below. "Do you think I'm a coward?"

Of course he was a coward. Cowards murder people. Brave folks find another way to resolve their differences. But she wasn't sure if pointing this out would help getting him to cooperate. "I'm not sure what bravery has to do with anything, but jumping to your death won't prove some virtue on your part. It'll just prove that you got backed into a corner, that you made foolish decisions. And suicide... do you really want to spend eternity entombed in a tree, being preyed upon by harpies? Your time of judgement is near at hand, my friend. Now is not the time to get yourself into more trouble. Come clean and confess what you've done, and show some penance... that's the way to reduce your blame in the hereafter."

Tredian hung his head, and she gave him time to think. Eventually he picked up the rope, examining it. "You're a cold hearted one, aren't you?" Then with the practiced hand of a sailor he tied the rope around his waist. She called out to Buregon to lift them up.

Topside, she began untying the rope from the tree as Buregon secured their prisoner. As she coiled it around her arm, she noticed a bundle of wildflowers lying atop a rock. Her breath caught in her throat. Had Buregon picked these for her? Buregon noticed her staring at them. "Do you like them?" He picked them up and held them out in front of him. "I still need to get a string or something to tie them up with..."

"They're beautiful!" She gushed, and reached out to touch one. "That's so thoughtful of you!"

Buregon smiled, and it was such a beautiful thing that her heart seemed to melt inside her. "Good! I'm not very good at this, but if you like them, that probably means she will too." He turned and began putting on his pack, leaving her standing there with her brain frozen.

She clumsily settled into a march, Tredian between them. "Her?" She said weakly. "Who is 'her'?" What was he talking about? And why did her stomach feel like it had a cannon ball in it?

"Well..." Buregon glanced at her sideways. "We've been trying to keep this on the down low, but you can keep a secret, can't you Vix? For a few months, I've been seeing a woman. Last week, I asked Jessita to marry me, and she has agreed! I can't believe my luck, that she loves me, but there it is!"

Vix stumbled and swished her tail hard to recover her balance. "Jessita? The whore? You love her?"

Buregon stared at her, and she lowered her gaze, pretending to look at the rocks passing beneath her feet. "Really Vix? You of all people shouldn't be condemning someone for being different. Jessita is a beautiful woman with a beautiful heart."

The halfling between them chuckled. "Buregon, is it? I think Vix here is upset the flowers aren't for her."

Buregon laughed. He laughed! "Don't be silly! Vix is my best friend."

[RJonesy]

Application complete

[Grouchy]

Unfortunately I'm going to withdraw, having a tremendous amount of writer's block for this particular PC. Just not feeling it. Best of luck Inuvash!

[Inuvash255]

Sorry to hear that Grouchy, but good luck in your other games! ^^

@Everyone else: Reminder that the cutoff is the end of the day this Wednesday! After that, I'll be looking over applications over the weekend.

[Drachenspirit]

- Character name: Ilari Daylander Character Concept: Fighter, folk hero, who was something of an outlander years ago, but doing hard work and stepping in a dangerous situation made her a local hero. Appearance: Ilari stands just shy of 8' tall with a muscular physique. Her skin tone is that of her racial heritage, and she also has tribal tattoos from her clan. She strikes an opposing figure until she smiles. Her whole face lights up and her friendly, infectious smile, laugh and attitude makes everyone feel safer. Bio/Background: Ilari is from a Goliath clan far away in the high mountains. When she was a young teenager, she was put on a ship by her clan leaders that was headed anywhere. She was to work for her keep until they dropped her wherever they wished. The "why" wasn't discussed, but the truth is, she fell in love with a young male who was spoken for when she was just 13, and soon found she was with child. As the young male was set for an arranged marriage, she was 'kept up' until the child was born, a daughter, and then she was banished from the tribe without her daughter. She was a emotional wreck for half a year, first scrubbing decks and lifting anything heavy, and then on the docks in Saltmarsh. A local smith saw her size and stature, and having heard how large her race can get, he gave her room and board along with a bit of coin in exchange for her manual labor. It worked out for them both, as she grew a foot taller and more lean and muscular, while she fell in love with this community that at least tolerated her. She took to grave digging, and even working or the local dwarven smithy, The Dwarven Anvil, even picking up a bit of the trade. There was a short time in which she hadn't learned from her past really, and she took up with a large half-orc adventurer who was something of a Rogue as well. He was harsh, hardcore, and a skilled fighter, working out of Saltmarsh. They became a couple and given their races, it wasn't frowned upon by the locals. She was again smitten, and crushed when he was killed on an adventure a few months back. Despite his outward persona, he hadn't pushed her into becoming physical in their relationship. Instead, he listened to her story and said he understood from his own past. Upon finding out, she was working almost night and day to try and quell her despair. One night, while digging yet another grave - which didn't help her mental state - she caught some grave robbers. She bested three of them with a shovel and after it was found out that they were part of a small cult that dug up bodies and defiled them for some dark God and his purposes. She was hailed a hero. Now, she's arming herself to set out on adventures for the greater good, herself, and in honor of her fallen love. What she brings to the RP table: She's a large presence who goes beyond just being a hulky protective fighter in that she's as caring and loving as they come. Befriend her, and she'll go above and beyond trying to keep you cheerful and more importantly, from harm.

[Drachenspirit]

Don't know if I'll make it, but I'm throwing in my friendly Goliath Fighter for consideration.

And, there's a lot of competition.
I don't know if everyone has a completed app up, but those that look like they do have some good submissions out there.
For my own mental clarity, I made a list.
If I misread anyone's 'Class', or type, I apologize, but this is only a list.

1. Halfling Ranger type
2. Fire Genasi Bard
3. Half-elf Sorcerer
4. Halfling Rogue Smuggler
5. Human Fighter Smuggler
6. Lizardfolk Druid
7. Halfling Rogue
8. Aquatic Half-elf Bard
9. Half-elf Sorcerer
10. Goliath Barbarian
11. Tabaxi Rogue
12. Triton FIghter
13. Lizardfolk Ranger
14. Ghostwise Halfline Cleric
15. Shifter Druid
16. , and unless someone else throws their hat in the ring as well before time's uplastly, my Goliath Fighter type

If no one else submits, and there's a standard 5 player/characters selected, that's a bit over a 30% chance.
Good luck everyone!

[anamiac]

I think you missed Shaede's application. Half elf bard, looks complete to me.

My shifter bounty hunter is the only one without a class. She is a druid. Bounty hunter is her background.

[Alatere]

1 in 3 that’s not the worst odds ever