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  #31  
Old Mar 31st, 2021, 11:29 AM
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Out of curiosity, the custom background option is straight out of the PHB. Are you fine with us using it to tailoring backgrounds to better suit our characters?
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  #32  
Old Mar 31st, 2021, 11:36 AM
Exfilia Exfilia is offline
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Touketsu View Post
Out of curiosity, the custom background option is straight out of the PHB. Are you fine with us using it to tailoring backgrounds to better suit our characters?
As long as you're fine with my choosing the characters that best suit my game, do as you like :-)
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  #33  
Old Mar 31st, 2021, 04:31 PM
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Oh, one question: since Lynnwen is a surface drow, can I downgrade superior darkvision to darkvision and lose the sunlight sensitivity?
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  #34  
Old Apr 1st, 2021, 09:27 AM
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One more question for the DM, and also for ElCosoLoco;

Are you okay with players applying with other applicants in mind? I imagined Cicada being in drow custody was a result of a similar situation to Lynnwen (Basically he goes to the Underdark with an adventuring party for the purposes of learning and self-enlightenment, but they are ambushed, most of the party is killed, and he's taken prisoner). I was thinking of baking that into my writeup. The two wouldn't necessarily have known each other prior to joining up, but it might make for some cool party flavor.
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  #35  
Old Apr 1st, 2021, 11:02 AM
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Aurix
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Name: Aurix <--------- Character Sheet
Race: Kobold
Class: Rogue
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Background: Criminal

Description: Aurix is actually small for his kind standing only two feet and one inch in height and weighing in at a whopping 21 pounds. He has dark colored scales with lighter grey highlights, and a lithe yet muscular build for his size.

Narrative Sample: Aurix had always been the curious and adventurous sort, even in his early formative years which had a tendency to get him into trouble with the elders. It also led to his learning to sneak around, his small size making it easier for him to go unnoticed even from his kin. Upon reaching adulthood Aurix decided it was time to discover what was outside his packs small village underground. They often traded with the Drow and even Duergar at times being skilled miners they traded gems and rich metals for other goods.

Due to their numbers the drow or Duergar who traded with them did not try to overwhelm the kobolds. However when a stray kobold roamed to far they were often captured and used for their skill in mining and ability to get into small spaces. Aurix had decided to follow a small party of Drow who had traded with his people, in hopes of finding a way out of the darkness and out into the world above. His own eagerness know turned out to be his worst enemy, as he snuck closer and tried to pilfer some of the gems that had been traded.

As he made his effort one of the other Drow noticed Aurix and grabbed him before he could escape. His arms bound and his body beaten he was taken to the Drow city and thrust into slavery. That was a couple of months ago, since then Aurix has been doing his best to avoid gaining the Drow's attention. All the while doing his best to lay out a plan of escape, a way from the Drow and if possible perhaps the underdark as well.

Your preferred pronouns: He/Him
Thoughts on whether the proposed time: Works for me
A statement of any game content: Anything goes that is legit on the site.
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  #36  
Old Apr 1st, 2021, 11:54 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by ElCosoLoco View Post
Oh, one question: since Lynnwen is a surface drow, can I downgrade superior darkvision to darkvision and lose the sunlight sensitivity?
If you choose to do so.

However, almost all of OotA takes place in the Underdark. Up to you, of course.
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  #37  
Old Apr 1st, 2021, 11:55 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Touketsu View Post
One more question for the DM, and also for ElCosoLoco;

Are you okay with players applying with other applicants in mind? I imagined Cicada being in drow custody was a result of a similar situation to Lynnwen (Basically he goes to the Underdark with an adventuring party for the purposes of learning and self-enlightenment, but they are ambushed, most of the party is killed, and he's taken prisoner). I was thinking of baking that into my writeup. The two wouldn't necessarily have known each other prior to joining up, but it might make for some cool party flavor.
If you BOTH like--it should be in both applications.

And I don't care if you knew each other since the equivalent of kindergarten. I love when players do that kind of thing.
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  #38  
Old Apr 1st, 2021, 12:24 PM
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My application is effectively done. I will add a portrait hopefully today or tomorrow and finish out his list of lost equipment, later today or tomorrow as well.
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  #39  
Old Apr 1st, 2021, 04:05 PM
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”Kolbold-WIP”
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Character Name: Twig
Race: Kolbold
Class: Bard
Background: Criminal
Personality Trait: I always have a plan for what to do when things go wrong.
Sarcasm and insults are my weapons of choice.
Ideal: Chains are meant to be broken, as are those who would forge them.
Bond: No one else should have to endure the hardships I've been through.
Flaw: I turn tail and run when things look bad.

Preferred pronouns: he, him, his
Proposed time: Works for me.
No content, in words, will be too distressing to interfere with the game for me.

descriptionTwig has dark bumpy red scales marbled with swirls of white. His sweat emits a distinct aroma of spicy peppers mixed with sweet vanilla. Pair of ridges runs from the back of the head past shiny azurite eyes before they dip and disappear into the snout just before reaching his nose holes. A pair of large yellow horns jut out behind his head. His snout is horseshoe shaped with an upper jaw slightly wider than the lower jaw. When closed the lower teeth, except for the third tooth, are hidden while the upper teeth stick out over the bottom jaw. The bottom third tooth on each side fits outside of the upper jaw when closed and is constantly being polished by the trembling kolbold. He wears a necklace full of his sharp white teeth. The teeth have fallen out and have been replaced by new.


backstoryThe smell woke him. Sweat and piss. His head was pounding causing him to reach his clawed hand to his head to rub a spot above his right eye. He stays this way for many heartbeats until the sound of movement jumps out of the silence. He opens the eye he was rubbing, and then his other, allowing the inside of a room to make its acquaintance and, in draconian, whispers Where am me ?

He frowns. Sadly shaking his head as he remembers. He was with some of the others from his clan forced out due to theft. Movement from above warned them. Suddenly drow came down from the ceilings. No time or place to run so he quickly leaned against the wall within a slight crevice and cast an illusion as camouflage. Multiple drow males missed him as they focused on the others. It was a slaughter. Another male crossed by and even looked in his direction before continuing on. The battle was over. His heartbeat was returning to normal. He could hear talking but didn’t understand the language. A female drow came by, glanced his way, turned, glanced back, smiled and raised a small crossbow. He felt a slight pinch; then darkness.

He sat up and looked around. Seeing multiple others. Stone on all sides. He looked up. That is the way out, They were in a pen. A pit. He stood up, moved to a corner and lifted up the ragged cloth and let the water flow. Groans behind him. He squeaked out Me can tell others watered already. Why not me over here?



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Last edited by Kshnik; Apr 1st, 2021 at 06:24 PM.
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  #40  
Old Apr 1st, 2021, 06:12 PM
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Lothien of Blackacre
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Sounds fun! I wish more games would have daily posting.

Name: Lothien of Blackacre
Race: Half-Elf
Class: Druid
Alignment: Neutral Good
 


Preferred pronouns: he, him, his
Timing: No problem. Can post the evening before.
Content: Would prefer no overly detailed or graphic depictions of torture. (No problem with torture content if it is a part of the story narrative. Just prefer that it not be extremely graphic).

Narrative sample (I had some free time at work and got a little carried away ):
It was an autumn day in a forest in Wood Elves lands. It was time for newly-initiated druid Lothien of Blackacre to set out on what is called a “Wisdom Quest.” He would seek experience out in the world, and through that, gain greater insights into the nature of the universe. And thus more skill in druidcraft and divine magic. He bade farewell to the friends and comrades of his druid circle and to the lands of his Elven mother and set forth for Blackacre, his family's home. He would visit the little manor and farm of his human knight father, there to see his parents and siblings for the first time in many seasons. And then to where, he didn’t know.

His first three days traveling through the woods were mostly uneventful. The only peril he had faced was an angry brown bear, which would have easily killed him if he weren’t able to befriend and mollify it. But times at night, he felt he was being watched. Not by the creatures of the woods. By something more intelligent, something with more consciousness and will.

On the fourth day he came across what appeared to be an abandoned shrine. Its stone walls were covered with green moss and thorny vines. Above its open doorway was a stone face, bearded, with features a blend of those of a human and those of a giant. Its eyes and mouth were wide-open, in astonishment. Or terror. Or pain. Lothien contemplated it and fingered his druidic totem, which was a carved wooden deer.

Lothien peered inside the structure. There was nothing but there but a dark stairwell leading as far underground as his darkvision could see. “Strange,” he thought. “Creatures should be attracted to this nice, dry shelter. But no animal droppings, no mouse nests. Just a lot of crab spiders in webs along the ceiling. Little Lothien, you are not going in there. Sure, you’re seeking experience and understanding, and sure, there’s probably plenty of that to be found down there. But not of the good kind. And not useful for very long to a dead druid.” He traveled on.

That night, sleeping on the fallen leaves in the woods, during the darkest hour of the autumn night he was awakened by a sound. A four-legged creature, probably a deer, walking on three legs only. Duh-dun. Duh. Duh-dun. Duh. The smell of butchering a deer was in the air. Lothien quietly sat up. A magnificent juvenile stag was around 30 feet away, alerted to him, head up and staring, ears twitching. A short arrow with goblin fletchings was driven deep in its blood-streaked flank. Its sides were heaving and Lothien could hear its heavy breathing. He looked all around for places ambushing goblins might be hiding, but saw nothing. “Friend,” he said to the deer. “See, I’m speaking to you, letting you know I’m here. I wouldn’t do that if I were hunting you. I’m coming to help you.” He stood and began to slowly but smoothly and confidently approach the wounded stag.

Suddenly, fibrous, woody vines erupted from the earth. He groaned in his mind and know he had been tricked. He jumped to the left, but the vines entwined his right boot. Instantly they wrapped around his other leg and his wrists, and then all the way around his neck and head. “Crap, you fool,” he thought. “You fell right for it.” The stag moved

There were footsteps in the fallen leaves behind him and a female voice said, in Elvish, “Well, well, we’ve caught an elf.” Another female voice said, in Common, “A mongrel elf. Lovely.” And then there were footsteps on the leaves ahead, but no one was visible. A pace away, they stopped. What could only be a drow appeared. She was clothed elegantly, in a black kaftan embroidered with crimson and silver threads. It was clothing not suited for spending much time in the woods. She turned toward the deer and it moved left and right across the ground without moving its legs. It rose into the air and drifted above Lothien’s head, where with his immobilized head, his eyes could still see it. The stag’s breathing grew harder, it let out a shriek, then went limp and died. Then it disappeared.

The mage drow stood before Lothien and said, in Elvish, “A deer elf. But not for long.” The drow who had been the first to speak stepped around to the front. She appeared to be a druid. She reached into Lothien’s bag and took out his deer totem. “A little souvenir that I might keep, or might not. Former druid. Slave elf.”
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Last edited by jemmus; Apr 2nd, 2021 at 09:06 PM.
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  #41  
Old Apr 4th, 2021, 02:39 PM
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Removing application
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Last edited by Jrod; Apr 11th, 2021 at 04:53 PM.
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  #42  
Old Apr 5th, 2021, 11:37 AM
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FYI your humble DM backed Stibble's Codex of Companions and absolutely loves the creatures in it, so if you have the book or PDF and want to use something in it, WITHIN REASON, please let me know and we'll see if it can be worked out.
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  #43  
Old Apr 6th, 2021, 01:50 PM
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Character Stuff
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Name: Athsvaelai, pronounced: ATHS (rhymes with baths) - veil - eye
Race: Yuan-ti Pureblood
Alignment: Neutral. Athsvaelai isn't inherently any less dispassionate than the rest of her race, but she struggles to understand the relentless self-interest of the rest of the vrael oro. Certainly, personal advancement is laudable -- who are we, if we do not seek to better ourselves -- but the objectively evil lengths the yuan-ti are famed to go, well... She views such indulgences much the way someone might view a hoarder's house; at some point, what may have started out as a reasonable idea just went terribly wrong.
Class: Bard. The eventual goal is to be multiclass Bard (College of Whispers) / Warlock (Hexblade). Depending on how things play out, I'm considering everything from 18/2 all the way to 14/6 as the eventual ratio, should the game reach that point.
Background: Courtier
Party Role: Light melee, controller shenanigans, party support

Narrative:
I had only just arrived! It was not supposed to be this way. But whatever she thought or believed did nothing to prevent the leering dark elf from swinging closed the rusty grate before her. "I was to be afforded diplomatic protections," she demanded. That it was a futile gesture was a foregone conclusion, but only a fool would not seize on the chance. "You make powerful enemies by imprisoning me."

The drow jailor stopped and turned to face her with a thin, acerbic smile. "Is that so, girl? Good." He drew a short blade -- a serrated length of some unfamiliar black metal -- from his belt, and leveled it at her. "It always hungers for the blood of surface dwellers. And so do I," he chuckled. "Take care that it doesn't feed on yours. I'd hate to have such appealing property damaged before it gets to market." She considered, for a long moment, striking at his mind with her magic. But there was no path to victory for her here, nothing to be gained by a suicidal gesture. And then he was gone, back down the hallway beyond, and into the unyielding darkness. All that remained around her was silence.

Only a scant few weeks ago, she had been standing in the Emerald Hall in N'Syrvan, dressed in finery and luxuriating in the incense and filtered sunlight. Rassansi was there, one of the collegians, and a malison besides. She was honored to be received by him, and honored more so to be given a mission of diplomatic import. Even one that would take her down into the dark depths below. The drow were untrustworthy and, like all other races, inferior, but they were powerful, and an alliance between the dark elves and the vrael, however tenuous, would be a difficult force for others to oppose directly. All the arrangements had been made for the opening of a diplomatic channel...

And it was a mere six months before that when Athsvaelai had left the safety of the learning halls to fight and train and scheme alongside the human Davra Jassur. There had been no illusions there; the young yuan-ti was not crafty enough yet to hide her nature from the Black Network recruiter, and Davra made no effort at all to conceal whom she represented. Both women were agents of greater powers, and both learned so many things from, and of, each other. Davra promised that such opportunities would open doors for her...

But now, the only door that mattered was a cell gate, and it was closed and locked before her. In the long quiet darkness, Athsvaelai wondered... was this betrayal merely to be expected from the dark elves' nature, or had someone she trusted played a hand in sealing her fate? Come what may or what I might endure, she swore upon her scales, I will see the sun again. And someone will count the cost.
Former equipment: dagger, diplomat's pack, fine clothes, leather armor, lute, pouch, rapier; 5 gp

Player StuffPlayer Pronouns: He/him/his
Timing: No objections
Content Advisory: Nothing that's going to happen to fictional characters in a PG-13-content site is going to disturb me. Heck, nothing that would happen to fictional characters in an R-content site would disturb me, either. The power of stories about standing up to evil are strengthened, not weakened, when the harms those evils threaten aren't just limited to the abstractions of "hit point damage".
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  #44  
Old Apr 9th, 2021, 04:05 PM
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Application - WIP
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Name: Vosela Iscuzu of Silverymoon <---- Character Sheet

Race: Aasimar Protector

Alignment: CG

Class: Battleguard Cleric of Tempus, War Domain

Background: Inheritor

Appearance: I rolled for random height and weight and this is what I got.Vosela is a six foot, one inch tall human looking your woman with an athletic build and an average weight of one hundred and sixty one pounds. She's got blonde hair and two different colored eyes, one blue and one white. Her hair and skin color are nothing like her parents, who are of Rashemi descent.

Personality: She's quite sure of herself, but quick to help those in need. She doesn't like bullies, and will be the first to take a stand. If there's no default leader in a group she is in, she'll quickly step up as she thinks she can fill the role most times.

Backstory: Vosela was born in Silverymoon to parents she favored in form and bone structure, but not at all in hair and skin color - not too mention her different colored eyes. She was taken to several Holy places in the city to see if this was a sign of good or evil. Most notably, her parents took her to
The House Invincible, and Rhyester's Matins. A 'seer' ascertained that she was a divine child, an Aasimar, and should be protected, and nurtured in the ways of good.
Over the next year, as she grew from infant to toddler, neither of these places could decide what to do with her.
They waited too long.
Some traveling members of the secretive Abbey of the Rose, were in the midst of an uneasy alliance with a small group of Tempus Crusaders trying to start both a Temple, and a local order of their own. The Abbey tried to secret her away for their own uses, tattooing her back with symbols of their order.
The Tempus priests, thwarted their plans, and had the tattoo altered, adding the wings once she reached the age of 14.
The adventuring Crusader priests of Tempus have long since passed away, save the one who kept her training and devotion to the God of War progressing.
It was during this time that he had her train under Morista Malkin as a scout to the Underdark, believing as she did that the next threat to the realms would come not from the lands to the north or east, but from down under their lands.
Vosela became quite a decent scout both above land and below.
It was during her last - or so she thought - jaunt to the Underdark that she was caught, and tortured for information as to why she was with a party venturing below.
She was rescued within a day, but not before she received several scars across her back from lashings.

Now, she's been captured again, this time with what she thought was a more seasoned group of under dark adventurers. She was wrong. They were fell upon above ground at one entrance to the Underdark. Her companions either fled, were killed, or were captured and kept separate by the Drow raiders who have sold/transferred her at least a half a dozen times until she arrived at the place she now finds herself in with others she doesn't know.
Narrative - The wind blows cold across the harsh rocky landscape down here, even in the slave pens. She tries to keep the web-thin hood of
the garment she wears - the only garment she has, pulled over her hair and face.
The reason is simple - she stands out. As if her height isn't enough, and her blonde hair, her two different colored eyes and the large tattoo spread on her back drew too much attention.
She was dirty, and in places her skin was raw, especially on her toes and the bottom of her feet.
There was that wind again, feeling like it went right through her and tugged at her very soul.
How do you hide or take cover from that?, she asked herself.
Then her faith charmed, chastised and beguiled her all at once. What was that Master Damon once said? She licked her dry lips as she tried to remember. Ah, yes. Put the wind at our back and it will help set your feet on the road; the road of what is right and true. As vague as that encouragement was, it actually helped.
She put her back to the wind, and moved as close as she dare to the center of the slave pen. She looked down at her shackles, and saw that the pit of plant fiber she had stuffed under them to stop the chaffing had fallen out.
She looked around for it, as if it was gold. It wasn't on the ground. It must be lost.
She sighed and looked up to one of her new companions who was smiling at her. No, he wasn't smiling, he was chewing. Damn his eyes, she thought when she realized he wasn't smiling, he was chewing her stem of plant fiber that had been stopping the chaffing at her wrists.
She thought of demanding it back, but realized it might not be good for stopping the chaffing anymore, and if it was, she wondered if the bruises she'd surely get, would be worth it. IF... she even won the battle of the plant stem in slave pen number 6.
So, she did what she always did, and tried to make good out of bad. "Is that any good? Do you have anymore you could spare?"


Player Stuff* Your preferred pronouns (that's for the player, not the character). - No preference
* Thoughts on whether the proposed time for the deadline (noon CST/ 1700 UTC) works for you, or would a shift of several hours be better. Only gonna happen if a large part of the group asks, but it could be done. - Fine with current
* A statement of any game content that you find so distressing as to interfere with play. Note that this is an emotionally difficult campaign and very ugly things happen in it--I can't turn the drow into respecters of human rights (or demihuman, or humanoid). This only tells me how substantial a curtain I need to draw. - Hey, it's the Underdark. No surprises on how violent or deviant it might be for me.
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Last edited by Drachenspirit; Apr 10th, 2021 at 06:31 PM. Reason: Spelling got me again
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  #45  
Old Apr 9th, 2021, 05:22 PM
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Don't know if I'm too late to the party, but there's my submission for a war cleric above.
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