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Old Apr 7th, 2021, 03:46 AM
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Arjent Arjent is offline
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Last Visit: Apr 18th, 2021
RPXP: 1280
Arjent Arjent Arjent Arjent Arjent Arjent Arjent Arjent Arjent
Posts: 534
Sounds like a good time! I miss 2E and recently have gotten my kids into it. It tells a different kind of story, that's for sure. Looking forward to joining in yours.

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Name: Darin Millbrand
Race: Human
Class: Wizard - Specialist Invoker
Kit: Militant Wizard
Age: 34
Alignment: Lawful neutral

Description: A tall bearded man with a stern gaze, War mage Millbrand stands apart in a crowd physically and mentally. In a library of wizards, he looks out of place with his athletic build and hawk-eyed countenance. On the field of battle, his quick mind and powerful magics separate him from the average warrior.

Personality: Darin is stern and quiet most of the time, but his wit and humor bubble forth at the worst of times. Straddling the world of soldier and sage has taught him to balance carefully risks and rewards, including those of friendship. While war mages are revered in his home country of Tuliers, they are also feared and a close watch is kept on them. Darin is often secretive unnecessarily due to this scrutiny. Although a lifetime spent in the military has made him fiercely loyal to his war band and the orders of his superiors.

Backstory: *SHReeeeee* the crackling heat of a fireball forces down the heads of a cowering army.
*KRA-KOOM!* the explosion scatters men, horses and smoldering stones across the battlefield. The cries of the soldiers rise to a roar as panic sets in.

On the Tuliers side, the exultant shouts drown out the panic-striken foe's laments. The war mages have arrived and the battle turns quickly. Fire and flame erupt from the ground as lightning crackles from the skies. The death toll rises quickly, along with a thick, cold mist that cloaks the field. The screaming and clamor fades; soaking into the mist.
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"Five long years." Darin says flatly to his companion at the fire. His eyes staring into the flames which seem to pulse and flick toward him despite the lack of wind. He gazes up at the soft young faces and the bitter, old bearded ones. He nods at them and gives a slightly wry smile.

"Ever onward" he says and raises his half-empty waterskin to the group in a small salute.


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