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  #16  
Old Jun 7th, 2021, 03:07 PM
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Great Thanks, its more for roleplay and to go along with his character image than anything LOL.
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  #17  
Old Jun 7th, 2021, 10:54 PM
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Application
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Name: Vladimira Petrov

Race: Human Variant

Class: Rogue-4 (Scout), Fighter-1 (Striving for Champion)

Alignment: LN

Background: Muscovy, Earth 13th CenturyFar Traveler
  • Personality Traits: She speak with an accent nobody recognizes.
    The events she survive traumatizes her, and the phantoms of her past haunts Vladimira's dreams.
  • Bond: Her Marriage Promise Ringtrinket is a symbol of Vladimirra's past life, and she carry it so that she will never forget her roots.
  • Ideal: Inquisitive. Everything is new to Vladimira but she has a thirst to learn.
  • Flaw: Grim. Vladimira can’t conceal her misery and it makes others uneasy around her.

Description:
 


Personality:
 


Backstory:
 


RP:
 

OOC
 

 

Last edited by Shula; Yesterday at 05:24 PM.
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  #18  
Old Jun 7th, 2021, 11:40 PM
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@JaredSyn

My hound is bigger than your pseudodragon...

Just saying pal.

We seem to run into each other everywhere.
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  #19  
Old Jun 8th, 2021, 07:16 AM
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@Shula I am all over the place like cockroaches can't get rid of me. YOur hound is probably heavier than my character and psuedodragon combined.
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  #20  
Old Jun 8th, 2021, 01:46 PM
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New to RPGX but not to PBP.
Consider me interested. Application to come soon.
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  #21  
Old Jun 11th, 2021, 04:45 PM
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Reginald Jeeves

Name: Reginald Jeeves
Race: Variant Human
Class: Rogue (Mastermind)
Personality Traits: I have a strong sense of fair play and always try to find the most equitable solution to arguments.
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Bond: I protect those who cannot protect themselves (Mostly, this has been my former Masters!)
Ideal: Respect. People deserve to be treated with dignity and respect.
Flaw: I can be TOO humble!
Physical Description: In appearance, Jeeves has been described as "tall and dark and impressive". On multiple occasions, his Master states that Jeeves has "finely chiselled features", and a large head, which seems to him to indicate intelligence. As his master has told his peers, Jeeves is "a godlike man in a bowler hat with grave, finely chiselled features and a head that stuck out at the back, indicating great brain power". Jeeves's eyes seem to gleam with intelligence.

Personality: Jeeves aims to be helpful and will devote much time and effort to solving his masters personal problems despite not being obliged to do so. Proud of being a valet, Jeeves is evidently offended when a revolutionary tells him that servants are outdated.
Jeeves often shows sympathy and others. He generally manipulates situations for the better and is described as "a kindly man". However, he will influence others decisions to suit his own preferences
Often wearing "an expression of quiet intelligence combined with a feudal desire to oblige", Jeeves consistently preserves the calm and courteous demeanour of a dutiful valet, and hardly displays any emotions. When he feels discomfort or is being discreet, he assumes an expressionless face which has been described as resembling a "stuffed moose" or "stuffed frog". When very surprised, he will raise his eyebrow a small fraction of an inch, and when he is amused, the corner of his mouth twitches slightly. His composure extends to his voice, which is soft and respectful. When he wishes to speak without having been spoken to or is about to discuss a delicate subject, he makes a low gentle cough "like a very old sheep clearing its throat on a misty mountain top". He may also cough to signify disapproval.
Jeeves is persuasive and magnetic, there is something about Jeeves that seems to soothe and hypnotize, making Jeeves effective at calming down an irate person.

Background/Backstory: Folk Hero - Valet
Little is known about Jeeves's early life. According to Jeeves, he was privately educated, and his mother thought him intelligent.
In his youth, Jeeves worked as a page boy at a school for future military officers, where books were readily available to him, and even as a mere servant, was encouraged to read when his chores permitted. He apparently served in the military itself to some extent, Jeeves states that he was a batman, but has offered up no further information on the subject.
Jeeves was first hired by his previous master to replace a valet who had been fired for stealing from him. The Former Master was later captured by Orcs, who had decided to hold him for ransom.
 


Jeeves mounted a one-man "Daring Rescue" to retrieve his Master. Disguising himself as an Orc, Jeeves infiltrated the Orc's Lair and set about turning the Orc's defenses against them. First, he freed a pair of captured Dire Wolves before goading them into attacking the Orcs. Then he isolated and slew an Orc Spellcaster, making the Undead he had raised go crazy. Using the last as a distraction, Jeeves attacked the now isolated Orc Leader, killing him before the rest of the Band were aware. Leaderless, scattered and (in most cases) dead, the Orcs were if little threat, and Jeeves was able to retrieve his grateful Master.
A couple of years after the incident, Jeeves' Master inherited a vast estate from one of his formidable Aunt's, so he moved to look after it. While he was fully capable of re-adapting to a larger Estate, Jeeves felt that he would be of more use in a smaller setting, so he took his leave amicably. Jeeves had originally intended to take an extended fishing holiday, but then he encountered The Party!
Jeves met the party at a rest stop in the early evening. Seeing the Advantage of safety in numbers, Jeeves offered to perform various chores around the camp overnight. The Party had been in the middle of a "discussion" about whose turn it was to do what, and so were more than happy to let Jeeves do this, though keeping a wary eye on the "stranger!" Jeeves was as good as his word, he cooked them a sumptuous meal out of trail rations, cleaned their spare clothing and gear, as well as various other small tasks that made things just that little bit easier and comfortable for them. The group offered to escort Jeeves to the town they were travelling to if he would keep on assisting them. This offer was later upgraded to an offer of Full Party-member Status when they realised he was also useful in fight. Despite this, Jeeves continues to act in the capacity of a Valet, or "Henchman" as they seem to like to refer to it, for the group as a whole.


Last edited by triedtherest; Jun 14th, 2021 at 07:40 AM.
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  #22  
Old Jun 13th, 2021, 03:13 PM
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Bumping up the thread. For those of you who are interested, thank you for the applications so far.
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  #23  
Old Jun 13th, 2021, 08:17 PM
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Hey Demandredd! My application's finished, any feedback is more than welcome!

I hope I am not too late for this! My application is mostly finished, I just need to complete the roleplaying sample (I have a rough outline but need to flesh it out). I will try and finish it tomorrow, but thought I'd go ahead and post what I have so far.

Application
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  • Name: Garret Greenbottle
  • Race: Lightfoot Halfling
  • Class: Paladin (Oath of the Ancients)
  • Background:
    • Personality Trait: The best way to get me to do something is to tell me I can't do it.
    • Personality Trait: I watch over my friends as if they were a litter of newborn pups.
    • Ideal: I am a free spirit— no one tells me what to do.
    • Bond: I protect those who cannot protect themselves.
    • Flaw: Beauty and art are for all to be enjoyed- I have to "liberate" it from those who would keep it to themselves.
    Criminal (burglar)
  • Alignment: CG

Description: Sporting bushy eyebrows, a thick, black beard of medium length, and deep creases running through his face, Garret looks far more rugged than many of the usually cheerful halflings. However, he shares his kind's sparkling eyes, which gaze out into the world seeking both wonder and excitement. Those who look beyond the first impression left by Garret's weary features will recognize a kind, yet sly smile. Garret's outfit is practical, favouring browns, greys and greens. When travelling, the halfling prefers a woolen vest to ward off the cold, grey or black pantaloons, and a dark green hooded cloak to obscure his features. Like most halflings, Garret goes barefoot, but usually wears leather wrappings around his wrists and hands.

Personality: Garret is a cheerful, optimistic sort, who tends to see the best in people. Despite his gentle nature, the halfling has a mischievous streak, and is not above pulling good-natured pranks on his friends. His playful nature has been tempered somewhat in recent years, no doubt due to his advancing age and the responsibilities to his family. Nonetheless, Garret remains impulsive, impatient, and is prone to go looking for excitement during extended periods of ennui. Of course, ever since Garret started a family, he finds there is little time for boredom. However, despite his flighty nature, Garret is loyal, protective of his friends and family, and feels a strong responsibility to protect the weak. He values the beauty of life, and has vowed to protect it.

Backstory: Garret was born fifty-three years ago in the small village Roselake, the youngest of three siblings. His mother tragically passed away when Garret was but two years old, but his father, Ander, cared for his three children as best he could. As it turned out, Ander was a hard-working individual who earned a modest living as a farmhand. The long hours required by his job unfortunately meant that Ander was often not around to care for his children, relying on their aunts and grandparents to raise the three brothers. These relatives spoiled the children, and as Garret grew up, his indulgent caretakers did little to prevent him from falling in with the wrong crowd. During his teenage years, Garret found himself part of a band of the village's ne'er do wells, more concerned with pursuing whatever fancy took them at the moment than working towards a future. Lounging about in the streets turned to petty theft, and petty theft soon led to burgling. Garret found he had a knack for his newfound vocation. When several of the village's more prominent individuals, who found themselves relieved of precious family heirlooms, began suspecting the young halfling, Garret decided it was time he skipped town to see what else the world had to offer.

Thus Garret travelled the land, sustaining himself by picking pockets and performing cat burglary. One day, however, deep in the woods, the halfling came across a temple dedicated to Titania, the Summer Queen. From the local people, he heard rumours that the priests who resided in the temple had become greedy, expecting ever more exorbitant sums for conducting their ceremonies. Resolving to teach the priests a lesson in humility, Garret came up with a plan. The priests were in possession of a holy symbol- a finely crafted amulet, shaped like a blue star, hanging from a silver necklace. No doubt, losing the amulet would make the priests reconsider their attitude towards the people they were supposed to shepherd. Garret deftly entered the temple without alerting the priests, and made his way to the altar when nobody was looking- or so he thought. As soon as his fingers touched the amulet, Garret heard child-like laughter behind him. When he turned around, the young halfling saw a gathering of fey creatures, applauding his tricksy ways and the clever manner in which he had evaded the priests. They were less than happy with the fact that Garret had tried to steal one of the Summer Queen's holy symbols, but recognized that he did so not out of greed or malice, but for the thrill of it, and to punish those who abused the people's faith in Titania for their own gain.

The faeries led Garret away, and for a full month, he spent time among them in the Feywild. There, Garret came to appreciate the beauty of life and nature, and learned to cherish kindness, cheerfulness and good-natured mischief. When he returned to his own world, the young halfling found himself changed- or perhaps, simply with a newfound respect for the values he had upheld all his life. He continued his larcenous ways, but now his tricks and schemes were aimed at bringing laughter and good cheer to the common folk, at the expense of the greedy, nasty lords who pretended to be their superiors. More than once, Garret was forced to protect the people with force of arms- but he never did so maliciously, his efforts aimed at inspiring good, honest folk, rather than at punishing the wicked. This he continued to do for a decade, until he finally found his way back to Roselake, the village where he was born. For a while, Garret was content to remain there, and even wed a childhood friend of his, Bree Leagallow. For a while, Garret considered retiring and turning to a more honest trade- but fate decided otherwise.

One night, a band of adventurers headed by the elven swordswoman Ilianya stumbled into Roselake. Seeing the elven woman was wounded, Garret and Bree were quick to take them in and tend to their wounds. The adventurers explained that they had recently crossed blades with a wide-spread organization of bandits, who operated in the lands surrounding Roselake. Sure enough, the thugs soon arrived in Roselake, and Garret was compelled to take up his whip and shield in defense of his hometown. The bandits were driven back, but Garret realized the bandits would not leave his village in peace. He joined Ilianya's band, and spent several years helping them break the organization's stranglehold on the surrounding lands. With peace restored, Garret bid Ilianya's adventurers a friendly farewell, and they parted ways.

That adventure was almost twenty years ago. Since then Garret lived his life in Roselake, raising his daughter Kithri and enjoying a peaceful life with his friends and family. Then, one night, Garret woke from his sleep one night in a cold sweat. When Bree asked him what was wrong, the halfling explained that, in his dreams, he had received a vision. The Summer Queen had warned him that his old friend, Ilianya, had gone missing in a remote village named Pendal's Helm. Worse, the area surrounding the village had been touched by a profound darkness, threatening the land and its people. Despite the passage of years, Garret remembered Ilianya fondly. She had seemed to him a force for good, an honest friend who had waged her life in the pursuit of a noble cause. Memories of camaraderie came flooding back, of a bond forged in the fires of battle and the warmth of taverns. Realizing his friends needed him, Garret quickly came to a decision. Saying goodbye to his family he donned his armour, took up his weapons, and rode out to the Dalelands, hoping he would not be too late...

 




 


 
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Last edited by DemonSlayer; Jun 14th, 2021 at 10:22 AM. Reason: finished application
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  #24  
Old Jun 14th, 2021, 05:59 AM
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Castien
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Name
Castien

Race
Tiefling (Hellfire Variant)

Class
Warlock (Hexblade)
Alignment
CG

Appearance
Front teeth from canine to canine are sharp fangs on both the upper and lower jaws. Dark blue hair in a neat crew-cut with a ponytail. Jet black eyes, thin eyebrows, and a thin mustache with 5 o'clock shadow. He wears a white 3-piece suit with gold trim and complete with a top hat, a gift from Ilianya. Among the tallest of Tieflings at 6'2; and kind of skinny at 210 lbs. Has a walking stick, but it's more for decoration than anything else. His skin is crimson red with patches of scales spread throughout. His horns sweep back and curl forwards and slightly away from each other.

Background
Urchin

Personality Trait 1
I've got sticky fingers and wandering eyes.

Personality Trait 2
I've skipped too many meals to make etiquette one of my strong points.

Ideal
I've come to believe that chaos and entropy are responsible for a lot of things. I deserve a fame and fortune as much as any of those "nobles". Why shouldn't I be happy?

Bond
Since Ilianya looked after me for as long as I can remember, I don't think I will ever be able to pay her back, she taught me most everything I know.

Flaw
I've witnessed first-hand that there's enough to go around for everyone, I just help myself a little when no one will miss it

Personality:
A paragraph or so describing your character's personality
Castien is no stranger to hardship, or the tough decisions one will be faced with in such situations. But since meeting Ilianya, he's been making an effort to live up to the potential that she seems to see in him. He will not stand idly by while a child goes hungry, and will rob a bully if he thinks he can get away with it. He sees Ilianya as the older sister and sometimes even mother he never had.

Backstory: Castien has never met his birth parents, abandoned before he could a lasting memory of either of them. His earliest memories are a hazy morass of hard times, bad days, and hungry nights. That is until he met Ilianya, Castien still doesn't know why she took pity on a mere tiefling orphaned teen, or why she gave him the name (It was her brother's name, but he doesn't know that). But she did it all the same, and after realizing that she was merely being kind for the sake of it, he vowed to himself that he would lay down his life for hers.
RP Sample

"Are you serious?!"
Castien asked bewildered, he held the immaculate garment up over his head to see it better in the light. He could hear Ilianya sigh as she repeated herself for the umpteenth time; yes, this was his own personal set of clothes to keep. He had to bite back his tongue's urge to question what the catch was, he had seen the hurt looks she tried to hide whenever he was suspicious of her. After getting to know her over the course of a few month and several meals, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was the real deal, a hero, and one Castien was proud to know. He held the clothes to his chest and inhaled the non-existent scent, the scent of clean. He'd learned to appreciate it when things around him didn't stink of garbage and rot, and now he OWNED such a thing, he could feel his eyes well up with tears and fought valiantly to hold back the flood. But the next thing he knew, he was in the shade and something was compressing his head a little.
"No suit is complete without a hat."
Realizing no one could see his face now that she had put the hat on his head, he began to cry softly.
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Last edited by L0stTh0ught; Yesterday at 03:31 AM.
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  #25  
Old Jun 14th, 2021, 07:41 AM
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My application for Reginald Jeeves is complete.
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  #26  
Old Jun 15th, 2021, 04:51 PM
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Jehsula Elynore
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Name: Jehsula Elynore
Race: Half-Elf
Class: Druid - Circle of Wildfire
Alignment: CG

Background: Outlander
Personality Traits: I have a lesson for every situation, drawn from observing nature.
I’m driven by a wanderlust that led me away from home.
Bond: Change. Life is like the seasons, in constant change, and we must change with it. (Chaotic)
Ideal: I am the last of my tribe, and it is up to me to ensure their names enter legend.
Flaw: There’s no room for caution in a life lived to the fullest.

Description: Jehsula is a young woman with tan skin, long raven-black hair, and twinkling, dark brown eyes. She has a tall, slender figure with broad shoulders and narrow hips. She inherited her looks from her elven mother, but they are softened somewhat by her human blood which she inherited from her father. She wears her hair loose and it often falls into her face briefly obscuring her mournful eyes. Although she is amiable to all she meets, the smile does not completely reach her eyes as if she’s known sadness unimaginable.

She wears the brightly painted leathers of her tribe which are loose fitting and don’t completely cover her body. Her skin is always warm to the touch no matter how cool the elements around her are.

Personality: Like a stereotypical half-elf, Jehsula has two competing halves that are in constant battle like two wolves vying to be fed more than the other. Her elven side inherited from her mother causes her to frequently become the caretaker of her group, making sure people are looked after and safe. Those she considers friends get the full brunt of this as she slips into an older sister persona towards them and goes out of her way to make sure they are safe. But this unwavering devotion does not come easily. It takes her a good while to fully warm up to others. It also doesn’t help that she prefers the solitude not found in the hustle and bustle of cities. She is more at home in natural places such as mountains and forests.

Her father’s human side comes out in other ways. She is strong willed and has his free spirit. Some people even go as far to call her reckless and impulsive; totally at odds with her introspective moments. But she is kind-hearted and no better listener is found. She contains boundless amounts of empathy and strives to develop rich connections with others.

Backstory:
 


Roleplay Sample:
 


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  #27  
Old Yesterday, 10:33 AM
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Just a gentle reminder for those who might have missed it, prospective PC's should consider their links to the NPC detailed in the OP in terms of connections and backstory.
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  #28  
Old Yesterday, 08:29 PM
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WIP - Solana Ni'Tessarhine
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Name: Solana Ni'Tessarhine

Race: Half-elf

Class: Bard 3 (College of Whispers) / Fighter 2

Alignment: CG
Personality Traits: (1) I can stare down a Hellhound without Flinching. (2) I am always calm, no matter the situation. I rarely raise my voice, and never let my emotions control me.

Bond: I will fight for those who cannot fight for themselves.

Ideal: I don't take a job that crosses someone else in the trade.

Flaw: If there's a plan, I'll forget it. If I don't forget it, I'll ignore it.
Description: Solana is a five foot, nine inch tall young woman of human and elven mixed lineage. She has strawberry blonde hair that she wears down and brushed out. She's adorned with studded leather armor, a rapier and a dagger, along with a longbow and quiver beside a light pack and bedroll when adventuring. One would think her a light fighter were it not for the Lute and lyre cases strapped beside her pack as well.

Personality: Solana is out to set things right, earn some coin, and have a good time doing it. After a raucous evening causing a ruckus, she'll often reply to those who frown on her behavior with a chuckle and the remark, Please, nobody died. Despite her other common reply of, What's the good in that?, she sticks up for underdogs and the downtrodden. She's quick with a song or tune to fit the occasion, even if the occasion doesn't warrant one. Most thinks she's fun to have around and there's never a dull moment if she's in your company.

Backstory: Solana grew up in Shadowdale, her half-elven parents both working a business that did laundry and other services for the city guard. Though she was taught the elven tongue growing up, she's no idea of what elven subrace might be more prevalent in her bloodline. And since her parents don't seem to care either, being city folk, she never has.
Her younger days were spent with her mother, frequenting city guard friendly taverns singing and playing stringed instruments to small crowds, occasionally entertaining the guards in their halls.

RP Sample:
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  #29  
Old Today, 12:49 PM
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Application
Name: Grizdakh the Garrulous


Race: Half-Orc


Class: Warlock


Personality Traits: My eloquent flattery makes everyone I talk to feel like the most wonderful and important person in the world. I don't like to get my hands dirty, and I won't be caught dead in unsuitable accommodations.


Alignment: True Neutral


Bond: I will face any challenge to win the approval of my family.


Ideal: Power. If I can attain more power, no one will tell me what to do. (Evil)


Flaw: I secretly believe that everyone is beneath me.


Description: It would have been better if Grizdakh the Garrulous had died in the womb, or perhaps been thrown from a cliff by a spiteful father. Neither of these events occurred, and so Grizdakh was allowed to come of age in a time where the world was thrust into chaos. The very essence of death pervaded from the young orc at a young age, and when Kelemvor himself decreed that Grizdakh was to walk the earth forever as penance for his past misdeeds, none were able to turn aside the events set in motion by the birth of this one half-orc. Grizdakh himself may have been born into a noble family, but he enjoyed none of the trappings of noble life. His mother had thrown herself from the highest tower upon realizing that her son was touched by death's own hand, and his own father was a useless drunk. But Grizdakh could not help his nature, and so he took his inheritance early and set off across the land to discover his true destiny.

Personality: Those who might interact with Grizdakh for only a short time might remark upon the smell of rot which seemed to seep up from among the heavy scenes of perfumed oils he covered himself in. Or perhaps they would comment upon his morbid sense of humor, and his curious sense of death and decay. It would be unfair to criticize any who might feel uncomfortable around the half-orc for any extended length of time. After all, there are few who dwell among the Realms who would consider formaldehyde to serve as an aftershave.


Backstory: "Even if I told you, you wouldn't believe me. So what's the point? Just run, like the rest of them."
Grizdakh knows that his place on this mortal coil is only due to his patron Kelemvor, and that even to complain will avail him nothing but further misery. How can one atone for something they have no control over, for something which occurred a lifetime or more ago. The answer is: they don't. Grizdakh may have been a freak of nature, with his uncharacteristically pale skin, sunken eyes, and long hair - the living embodiment of a corpse weeks in the grave - but he was very much alive and ready to forge his own path. He was more than willing to embrace his grip on the dead, and it didn't matter if he frightened those around him. They were worthless plebes anyway.

RP Sample: "I can get you fresh corpses... but first, I want to know why you want them."

It was late evening, dark and dreary, and the streets were sodden with rain. The dark man in the wet robes kept pulling on his ears, a strange nervous tic that told Grizdakh he was dealing with an amateur.

"Well, er, well, I've heard that the dead, the newly dead, er, they still possess electrical energy, and, er, perhaps they can be revivved." The man's nervousness was palpable; the half-orc almost felt inclined to start pulling on his own ears. He resisted the urge.

"Listen, my simple friend, whoever told you they could control the dead was blowing smoke up your rear. It's not feasible." The half-orc turned away, done with this mundane conversation. Sudden fingers gripped his arm, desperate in their strength.

"Good sir, I know the difference between feasible and possible. I did not come to you to be so turned aside, and I do not give a damn about the cost. What I want is my Celia back in my arms!" For the first time during the conversation - the confrontation - Grizdakh looked at his accoster. Medium height , human, dark, shadowy eyes. The face of loss, of recent tragedy. Grizdakh shook his head.

"No good can come of this. Turn from this path; forget this 'Celia'; let the dead rest, for no spirit lasts between the barrier of life and death. What she was then and what she is now... no, you must renounce this fool path. Go, find a new light in your life. This one has faded."

A blade was pressed to the half-orc's throat, the arm of the man trembling with tense rage. "I will have my Celia. You will bring her back, or you will join her. Now move! I shan't ask again, orc!"

Grizdakh sighed, not even bothering to correct his accoster. "You know not what you ask. But so be it; you have made your choice. Lead me to your departed, and I shall bring you what remains. But - let it not be said that I did not warn you!"

It was past midnight when the two lone figures approached the freshly turned earth of Celia Denethor's grave, and her sad little husband collapsed at the mound. "Celia! Oh, Celia! I've come for you! We've come for you! Oh darling, I love you so! No mere death can separate my love for you!" The simpleton rounded on Grizdakh, blade still in hand. "Bring her back, orc, or so help me -"

The half-orc sighed. "This is your last chance. Are you sure this is your path?" The outthrust blade was answer enough, and so with a wave of his fingers, the half-orc raised the dead woman from her earthly slumber. "So be it," Grizdakh sighed, although there was no mistaking the slight trace of mirth in his tone.

What followed was predictable enough. The human was reunited with his lost love long enough for her to bite him square in the jugular. As the dying humans life-blood splashed onto the cold ground, there was hardly any sound beyond the fading arterial spray - and the faint "tsk-tsk" of I-told-you-so. But by that point, only Grizdakh was alive to see.

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Generally available after midnight/early mornings, EST. I haven't taken any oath, but I do my best to stay on top of the games I'm in.
Posting status: dealing with some writers block/general fatigue. keeping up best I can
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