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Old 03-13-2016, 03:12 AM
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The Adventurers

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Old 03-13-2016, 03:39 AM
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Name: Aurelian Pasternaki
Race: formerly human, but now Android (conduit, factual, +2Str/+2Int/-2Cha, less metal plates, more flesh-golem/frankenstein)
Class: Oracle (Life mystery, Warsighted archetype)||Warder, martial tradition Empyreal Guardians
(eventually prestiging into Battle Templar)
Intended role: Tank (aggro stealing & tough to kill), melee, tireless sentinel, secondary buffer, healer, divine caster

Physical description:
Aurelian is heavy-built, as solid & stocky as a dwarf, but tall even as humans go. A dark coarse beard is tightly trimmed on his face. Aurelian is always found wearing a heavy suit of mail with a large shield. Once he shifts into a battle stance, he resembles an impregnable wall, and the challenge in his shining green eyes is clear: "Get past me if you dare." As a hint of something gentler of the man, about his neck he bears a pendant shaped like a gauntlet encircled by briars, the symbol of the Empyreal Lord Arqueros, a parting gift from his mentor.

The warrior is all but never seen outside his armor, and he never seems to sleep. Well, he does ... sort of. And beneath his armor, he hides his bizarre frame revealing him as no longer quite human. Arcane runes dot the center of his chest and the joints of his limbs while stitches run all over his flesh, bearing a less than healthy pallor.

The imposing figure was once a sanguine fellow, always found boisterous and grinning, even (or especially) in the thick of battle. He was once the sort to laugh uproariously, send a man tripping with a good-natured slap on the back, or leave a hand stinging after a handshake.

He was. Ever since his "incident" in the north, though, he no longer has some of his extroverted invincible confidence, like he lost something from the man he once was. He feels colder, numb, pitiless, less empathetic than he used to. It makes him difficult to relate to people as anything but cool & dismissive. His emotional "quiet" does let him lose himself to a rather single-minded intensity on whatever has caught his attention at the time.

Nowadays, Aurelian cares little for tact and tends to state things as they are. He has meager patience for social slights and barbs. Nonetheless, you will find few more loyal souls than he, but his respect & friendship are slow to earn. A formidable, imposing warrior, he is honorable and protective with a stubbornness rivaling a dwarf. Insult him as you wish, but heaven help you if you brandish ill intent against a comrade. For such, his blade is as pitiless & unyielding as an avalanche.


Roleplay sample:
"The baby has known the dragon intimately ever since he had an imagination. What the fairy tale provides for him is a St. George to kill the dragon."
-G.K. Chesterton, Tremendous Trifles (1909), XVII: "The Red Angel"

Last edited by dbaque; 03-30-2016 at 01:17 PM. Reason: revamped build, removed sheet
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Old 03-13-2016, 06:32 AM
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Kylie Kylie is offline
She's a Killer QUEEN!
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Olivia, the Angry Paladin of Iomedae
left-aligned image
Name: Olivia
Race: Aasimar
Class Side 1: Paladin
Class Side 2: Bloodrager (Destined Bloodline)
Intended Role: Tank, Damage, Leader, Minor Healing

Physical Description: This blond hair beauty is taller than most human girls around her age, and stares most men in the eyes at her height. She has beautiful free flowing, honey-like colored hair and sapphire eyes that seem closed off to the world around her. Her breastplate is polished clean just like everything else she owns. She carries just a single large greatsword across her back secured tightly in her sheath. A backpack full of camping gear casually lies over her shoulder that lesser men would struggle to carry alone, but she makes it seem effortless. Without her steel skin on, men see, she an attractive well-toned hour glass figure with ample assets and creamy colored skin. The smell of her lavender soap makes her nearly irresistible.

Personality: Don’t make her angry, you won’t like her when she angry. She gets angry when people touch her unexpectedly, as she suffers from a bit of PTSD from her time with the evil witch. Unexpected victims might find themselves in an arm bar with their head pinned against a table. She’s always apologizes afterwards, but this usually causes tension with other males. This is the single leading reason while she doesn’t have any boyfriends. She loses her mind, when someone is getting beaten up who can’t properly defend themselves. The mention of slavery or servitude ignites a fire in her, and if she finds the servant being unfairly treated, she takes that servant away to their freedom by force. She doesn’t care about social standings or nobility; she treats everyone she comes across fairly.

Olivia always carries around a wooden holy symbol of Iomedae and a book of the 11 Acts of Iomedae. She constantly studies the pictures and images while looking at various places in town.

With that said, Olivia is mostly quiet until the need arises. She is always polite, speaking a soft voice that trusts everyone until she has a reason to be suspicious. If an issue comes up, she speaks her mind does tip-toe around cleaver chosen words, but her tone is always polite, never demanding. When she’s got nothing better to do, she works on a farm and plays with local children. She’s always willing to help out with the less unfortunate, but is quite a cheapskate when it comes to coins.

But most important of them all, if there is a wrong being committed in front of her, she stands tall and does everything in her power to defeating it.
Opening"Who are you?" A strange woman's voice calls out to Olivia as she snaps back to reality as a question was directed at her.

The strange woman has been talking for a while, but Olivia has a lot of her mind at the moment and has mostly ignored what she was saying. She submissively tells her still clinging to the fabrics of her servitude, "Olivia."

"Does Olivia have a last name?" The strange woman asks with a strange asks with an emotion that is completely foreign to her as she softly scrubs away the many years of filth and dirt on Olivia's skin.

"I..." Olivia starts to respond, but freezes mid-sentence as she thinks back to her past trying to remember her time before them, but all she can remember is the pain, they inflicted before she finally answers, "...don't..."

The warmhearted, strange lady continues to scrub, Olivia's well-toned biceps as she brushes aside Olivia’s long, knotted blond hair away from her back revealing many scars as well as fresh cuts upon her back as she asks, "What's the last thing you remember?"

Olivia thinks to herself a moment before finally responding, "dying..." she thinks really hard trying to remember any detail she could, "Then I..."

Olivia seems to be struggling to remember what she did after that, so the kind lady finishes cleaning Olivia revealing her cream colored skin. She rings her cloth out and tells Olivia, "Don't think so hard on it, just let it come back to you. Why don't you tell me the first thing you remember." The kind stranger then takes a pair of scissors and begins cutting Olivia's her damage hair while at attempting to brush out the knots.

It takes a moment as she thinks as far back as she can until she begins to cry and responds with the short answer of, “Fear.”

Escaping the WitchesSmack, the echoing sound that flesh makes when it contacts flesh as a six year old version of Olivia falls to the cold wooden floor of the little cabin in the middle of nowhere. Olivia does her best to hold back her tears as the boot of a repugnant older woman finds it’s why into Olivia’s ribcage easily flipping her over to her backside. The young Olivia tears up as she stares up at the vile woman in absolute terror. Olivia quickly attempts to apologize to her, “Mistress…”

However the terrible lady forces her boot atop of Olivia mouth, covering most of her face, as Olivia’s voice is smothered. “Did I give you permission to speak?“ The terrible lady asks rhetorically, as she continues, “Useless girl! No wonder your mother gave you to me.”

The beatings continued for many years as Olivia was forced to do all of the lady’s manual labor as her magic keep her in constant fear of rebelling against her. The lady gave the commands and Olivia obeyed. The lady didn’t even treat her as a human as she constantly put her left over food in a bowl for her to eat, never allowed her to take a bath, or do use the restroom in privacy.

This treatment continued until her sixteenth birthday, that’s when something finally awakened in her. The celestial bloodline that was hidden in her begins to awaken and the lady took notice of her ability make regular objects glow in her hands. After a bit of research, she learns of a few individuals who can enhance their melee weapons with the power of light in the presence of evil outsiders. Looking at her imp familiar, she experiments and concludes Olivia has those said powers. A wicked smile appears on her face as she thinks she now has the ability to create a weaker form of angelskin armor, something she’s tried to get her hands on for decades. She pulls out a dagger and begins stabbing Olivia with it. Olivia doesn’t even put up a struggle against her as she’s conceded that she is merely a play thing for this evil lady.

Not content with just killing her and harvesting her, this sadist decides to add one last insult to injury which would prove to be her downfall. After the third stab with her dagger, she leans in and whispers to Olivia, “Cry for me, one last time. Beg me to stop, just like you begged me when I took you from your parents.”

Something finally snapped in Olivia as she goes berserk, throwing the wicked lady offer her and into a large cauldron of boiling water. The evil witch screams as she struggles to get herself free from the pot. Her familiar charges in and tries to stop her with its poison, but the poison seems to have no effect on her. Olivia knows about the creature’s ability to disappear and she grabs a hold of the thing pinning him to the ground as she grabs the evil lady’s dagger. The dagger radiates in glowing white light as Olivia begins to stab him until and after the third stab, the imp stops moving. Olivia ends it quickly and puts the dagger through the evil creature’s neck.

Olivia starts to come to as drops the dagger; her hands are covered in black blood. Olivia hears the evil lady moaning painfully in the background and soon senses her impending doom. Olivia bolts out the front door into the cold night sky. She doesn’t have much on except for some rags and simple shoes, nothing to navigate or survive this cold weather. Soon the cold takes its toll on Olivia as she collapses in the snow, ready to accept the peaceful fate of freezing to death. It was certainly better than any fate that wicked lady had planned for her. Her eyes catch the glimpse of someone with short black hair before she passed out.

The next morning Olivia awakens from her nap wrapped in a winter blanket, inside a bed roll, which was inside a warm tent. She gets up as a small strip of parchment, a book, and holy symbol fall from her lap. She squints at the parchment, but she quickly grabs the items and moves outside to look around, hot coals cool quickly in a nearby fire pit. Not able to find the person who saved her, Olivia walks aimlessly into town before that kind strange lady takes her in and begins to ask her questions while cleaning her.

Standing TallSeveral minutes of silence between the two ladies continue until the nice lady finally is satisfied with Olivia’s now cut and groomed hair. She puts a clean towel over the back of Olivia that falls over her shoulders with just enough length to cover up her bosoms. She reaches for the parchment that is on top the book she carried with her. She squints again at the black ink that displays the words, “The first miracle, ‘You survived!’”

Last edited by Kylie; 03-14-2016 at 04:03 AM.
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Old 03-13-2016, 07:02 AM
Neqq Neqq is offline
Baker of Puns
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Primrose Copperpot
Primrose Copperpot

Race: Halfling
Class Side 1: Swashbuckler (Inspired Blade)
Class Side 2: Investigator (Empiricist)
Intended Role: Face, Brains and Melee Support

Physical Description: Primrose is just entering her 20th year, she stands and at 2’ 9” and weighs in at 26 lbs. There mightn’t be much of her but she possesses an unexpected wiry strength and athleticism Her pale angelic pale face has a healthy glow around her cheeks and is framed by auburn shoulder length hair, usually tied back with a few locks loose on either side. Intelligence and warmth radiate from her engaging blue eyes. Overall, her features represent a young woman blossoming from cuteness into true beauty.

The young Ms. Copperpot dresses solely in clothes of forest green and usually wear a full length dress and a hooded cloak. Sensible hard wearing boots always adorn her feet and apart from a butterfly-shaped clasp on her cloak, she wears no jewellery. She walks and sits in a very upright manner and her movements exude a quiet confidence.

Personality: Primrose is the embodiment of warmth and calmness, she exudes serenity. She has a positive effect on the behaviour and demeanour of almost all of those around her, people are better when in the company of the halfling. The young Ms. Copperpot is a soft, eloquent, thoughtful speaker, who avoids being labelled as haughty or boastful. She has maintained the common touch as well as learning the proper and expected etiquette when in polite company. Caring and kind-hearted, she is a loyal and trustworthy friend.

Ms. Cooperpot is extremely intelligent and very observant, she is able to recall small details and quickly assess people’s strengths, motives and weaknesses. Logic and rationalism rule her thought processes but they are balanced by her caring nature. Primrose’s wit is as quick and as sharp as her rapier, though she uses it sparingly.

When Primrose decides she needs to physically intervene in or retreat from a situation, a change comes over her. The halfling still uses her intelligence to interrogate the circumstances around her but her responses are on the daring side. She is able takes advantage of her adrenaline to push her body past its normal limits. After performing her swashbuckling deeds she quickly returns to her demure self.


Character Sheet (WIP)

Last edited by Neqq; 03-13-2016 at 09:14 AM.
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Old 03-13-2016, 06:35 PM
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Admin Dirk Admin Dirk is online now
Next year is Tampa!
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Name:Naithash Windleaf
Race: Human
Class side 1: Bard
Class side 2: Summoner
Intended role: Buffer/More Buffer




One more week: Can Dirk stay nice to Squeak?
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Last edited by Admin Dirk; 03-15-2016 at 11:11 PM.
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Old 03-13-2016, 06:58 PM
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Great Wyrm
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Name: Rey-Viss // Ahh-Rah-Kye-NennRevis Arakainen
Race: Using Catfolk stats. Simplicity!Half-Catfolk
Class side 1:
  • Less Spells per level
  • INT>AC with chosen Weapon Type
  • No Armor profs or Armored Casting
  • Various Martial Improving stuff
  • Qualifies for Fighter Feats(-3) at level 7.
Class side 2: Arcanist
Intended role:
  • Longsword/Bastard Sword stuff.
  • Prefers Lightning/Force spells.
  • Utility is Abjuration/Conjuration
  • Does not partake of Enchantment/Illusion/Necromancy spells.
Assassin, Blasty Arcane, Utility Arcane
Physical description: What are half-catfolk? Well, when a human and a catfolk love each other more than society says they should... In more serious terms, Revis makes the cut of what would pass for a normal 16-year old boy in the grasslands. However, these are the snowfields, and an 18 year old should be Large and Burly, with Proper Hair.

Revis fails that test. He bears the scruffy light-red hair of the northern humans, but mixed with fluffy lynx ears and a 2-foot long tail. His 5'6" stature is a little on the small side for humans up here, and he does not cut a dashing figure in the slightest. His eyes go halfway between his father's brown and his mother's yellow, and his racial flexibility ensures that he can be found resting in any manner of bizarre poses. If he fits, he sits.

Clothing-wise, he prefers loose, drapey clothing. He has a With LOVE, but don't tell him that.scarf from his mother, an odd padded shirt with almost western influence, gloves and boots, and a gratuitous amount of fringe. His undershirt comes down below his main one, spilling out into a butt-cape of sorts. His pants are baggy, full of pockets to carry All the Things. He has a Fancy Sword as a family heirloom. Torn lets him wander around with it, since he never got much use out of the thing. While not better in any magical manner than a normal sword, it does fold up into a more convenient size, like God intended.

Were he more properly prepared for adventuring, he'd add in a belt array, a warm and comfy hat, and possibly one of those rings that makes everything feel all toasty. Those are expensive, though. He has been saving up. It's his little secret. Personality: Revis is pretty... chill. People note that he takes to tasks and chores with a sense of ease and casual flair. They ask what he could accomplish if he put his heart into such things, but the truth is that he works far better when relaxed. Attempting to force an issue or problem with him tends to end in disaster. Hilarious disaster.
He is not romantically involved, and quickly changes the subject when it comes up.
He likes kids. Kids are like little mountain goats, that you steer around and teach bad habits. Were he not about to be adventurous, he'd probably end up being a town teacher of some sort.
Revis tends to smile at people as he's telling them to go eat a seal, or whatever the more adult version of that might be. The warning signs are more about the sternness in his voice and insistence.

Background: Torn Arakainen and Elia Vadrason were not well liked in the village. Well, that is not quite right: People liked Torn, up until this... Feline! Swept him off his feet. The boy was strong, and brave, and made good furniture for the town. And now he was consorting with animals.

He would have none of it. Torn's reputation may have taken a hit when he informed the town clerk of how things would be, but it can be said the hit to the clerk was much harder. His jaw still has not quite recovered; carpentry hammers still fail to be best friends with bones and bone-like objects. So, with mutterings of "Well I didn't care about them anyway," people left well enough alone. They could do their... human/cat relations in their cabin, and the townsfolk would politely ignore it. Or else.

So with much love and tender care, Revis was born. Torn and Elia agreed that the usual "Fatherson" style naming was Dumb, so they went with Torn's last name. The townsfolk children didn't care. They had more important things to make fun of. And grab on to. As you do.

Revis was noted from a young age as being quite the magical prodigy. He remembered the oddest details about things, and could absorb information quite readily. A bit mellow though, and he greatly failed to cut the MANLY FIGURE of the northern human tribes. Cat ears and a wiggly tail will do that to you. Still, with lack of resources and being far away from any proper schools of learning, Revis has learned much of his magecraft on his own. Peers agreed: he tended to take odd approaches to things. When taught how to use an axe, he ended up taking a liking to the sword better. When learning simple weather cantrips, he was better at zaps of lightning. When situations were dire, he would be a source of levity and calm in the face of it.

But what to do? Life was so limited, so... mundane. One could master a craft here and still be nothing, to no one. Until one cold night...
Roleplay sample:

Random Trivia:
  • Elia is a mixed catfolk, with lynx and tiger features. Revis got the splayed ears and fuzzy corners from the lynx, and the long tail/fingernail shape from the tiger.
  • Revis' preferred weapon is a curved longsword, with a slight weight towards the bottom, guard, and tip. His is more of a swirling style of swordplay, rather than brute force. Cut the painful part and leave.
  • He has lived his entire life in colder climates, and thus is acclimated well. However, if he ever ended up somewhere tropical, he'd love it and Never Leave. *happy sunning cat*
  • Revis' pupils are slightly more vertical than a Human's, though not fully slitted. They do reflect light in the dark, though, which creeps people out.
  • His hat of choice would be a cowboy hat, with fringe. He loves dangly fringes on all the clothes. Scarves too.
  • Revis has a bad habit of sneaking up on people and startling them. This is partly because it's funny, and partly because he tends to be naturally silent when moving.
EDIT: My brain is fight. Awkward MRIs don't help. Expect delays.
A satyr rises in the morning, and hangs the coffee mug on his horns, so that he won't lose it.
The coffee is done, but the mug isn't in its usual spot. Where did it go? He forgot.

Last edited by Fragmaster01; 03-14-2016 at 10:13 PM.
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