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  #31  
Old 11-29-2018, 08:28 PM
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Definitely interested.
Will be back later to post a character.
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  #32  
Old 11-29-2018, 08:53 PM
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App complete!
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  #33  
Old 11-30-2018, 01:09 AM
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Application
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Name: Izadora
Race: Human (Var.)
Class: Fighter (eventual Eldritch Knight)
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Background: Sage
Personality trait:
  • I place little stock in wealthy or well-mannered folk. Those with the deepest coffers have the darkest secrets.
  • I sleep with my back to a wall or tree, with everything I own wrapped in a bundle in my arms.
Ideal:
  • Freedom. Chains are meant to be broken, as are those who would forge them.
Bond:
  • I have a family, but I have no idea where they are. One day, I hope to see them again.
Flaw:
  • My need for secrecy hurts my ability to trust others.
Personality: Izadora is sometimes the lion, and sometimes the mouse. She has fashioned herself into a bold warrior, remaining steadfast in the face of danger. She regards every day she lives free as a second chance, another life that she earned through her own determination. But she also lives in fear of being returned to servitude, always watching over her shoulder for the slave catchers. As a result, her existence has become somewhat of a fragile facade. Underneath a hard exterior is a foundation haunted by one overwhelming fear. She avoids personal relationships, keeping people at a distance lest they discover her secret. But that only feeds her loneliness and paranoia more as she has nobody else to rely upon.

Appearance: Izadora appears generally non-descript, of average height and average build. The faint olive tone of her skin and the shape of her eyes hint at a possible exotic origin, or at least foreign blood somewhere in her lineage. She plays this up by dressing like a religious zealot from some distant land, hiding much of her skin and wearing a hooded cloak that wraps around her neck, leaving only her face exposed. In the rare event that she lets her hood down, her straight, dark brown hair has grown long and she habitually brushes it forward to hide the slave tattoo that still marks her neck.
Backstory:When I was young, I was considered a bright child and showed some aptitude for magical studies. My parents sought me an apprenticeship under a wizard, in hopes that I would elevate myself from their lowly station. But apprenticeships are sold, not freely given, and my parents had no money with which to pay such fees. Eventually word of their plight reached one Master Lysander, a mage of some minor skill, and he made them an offer. Instead of taking me as an apprentice, he would purchase me as a slave, trained in magic, but bound to his service for many years to come. He would eventually free me, he promised. To be fair I have no idea if he he ever intended to keep his word, as rich food and idle living carried him off after less than a year of half-hearted training.

Master Lysander's wife inherited my ownership. She was no mage, had no use for an apprentice and made it clear that she had no intention of ever freeing me. I was property. My early duties consisted of organizing my former master's study, and I attempted to continue my studies on my own. But without any sort of guidance, my magical talents, already rather weak, quickly withered to almost nothing.

I spent the next three years slowly piecing together an escape plan, hoarding supplies, making friends, accumulating favors from fellow slaves and servants. In the middle of the night, I stole out of the manor grounds and committed myself to a life on the run. I disguised myself as a foreign zealot, with a headscarf to hide my neck tattoos, claiming a religious proscription against removing it. With a stolen sword and just enough training to make myself dangerous, I found myself work as a caravan guard headed east.

Of course, no legitimate organization would hire me, but I fit right in with the band of lowlifes, thugs and mercenaries that guarded the most dubious cargo. I have traveled with them for a year now, training as a warrior, my magical studies all but forgotten. I half suspect the caravan master knows why I hide my neck, but he seems not to care.

Our route has taken me us up and down the coasts of Isica, but it was during a stop in Oldbell that my past finally caught up with me. The fancy coach parked outside the inn was an odd enough sight, but it was the crest on its side that made my blood run cold. She was here. In this nothing little village. She has to be here hunting me. I cannot afford to wait for the caravan to move on, I cannot follow them back to Oxcliff. I need to leave for Witham. Now.

RP Sample:"Iz"

My whispered name roused me from sleep, but the form crouched over me triggered a more instant response. I stifled a cry and my mind slowly resolved the shadowy figure and the hand on my shoulder as belonging to Simons. I had taken the first watch, as always, just to avoid being woken like this and the memories it brought. He wouldn't be waking me unless...

"Trouble?"

"Petrov thought he saw something."

Slavers. The thought jumped forefront to my mind and I struggled to push it away. This close to the coast, pirates and slavers were always on my mind, despite never having actually had to fend off an attack from either myself. We were only a couple of days out of Witham anyways, and they were usually smart enough to not piss where they drank. But still, you heard stories. There were always the stories.

I could just about make out Petrov as he went one by one to the other forms sleeping around the dying remains of our campfire. I had my hand on my sword hilt already, an instinctual reaction from being woken suddenly, and I rose slowly to my feet, making sure my cloak and hood hadn't slipped in the night. The other guards were rising as well, watching the darkness around the camp warily. We didn't say much, and nothing above a whisper. That's when we heard rustling from the east.

I reached down to the ground and scooped up a fist-sized rock, judging from the way my back felt it had been underneath me until just a moment ago. "ʆʥʩ" With a word, the stone began shining brightly, one of the few magical tricks I could rely on these days. Reminders of a different time. I held the rock cupped in my hand to avoid shedding too much light on my companions and swiftly threw it into the shadowy woods around us. With practiced ease, we all formed into a circle, backs pointed inwards as we waited for a target to present itself.

The small black bear suddenly illuminated in the night took one look at the glowing stone and quickly turned tail, noisily rushing deeper into the copse of trees. The tension instantly released around our campfire and one by one we began laughing. Another night in the caravan.


Last edited by hafrogman; 12-06-2018 at 05:46 PM.
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  #34  
Old 11-30-2018, 12:53 PM
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Name: Rebecca, a.k.a. Becky

Race: Human

Class: Rogue

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Background
Folk "Hero"

~Defining Moment~
I stood up to a petty tyrant's agents.

~Personality trait~
If someone is in trouble, I’m always ready to lend help.

I have a strong sense of fair play and always try to find the most equitable solution to arguments.

~Ideal~
People deserve to be treated with dignity and respect.

~Bond~
A proud merchant once gave me a horrible beating, and I will take my revenge on any bully I encounter.

~Flaw~
I'm afraid the others will realize that I don't belong among them. I barely know how to hold up my sword.
right-aligned image

Personality: In all the time that Rebecca had worked for Tavern owner, and Rebecca's "Master"Tarren, she had always been the smiling face the customers could count on to lift their spirits. She never spoke an ill word of no person, not even the slave traders that frequented the The tavern, with rooms to rent aboveHook and Cross. And why should she have? Every sailor and merchant who came inside treated her kindly, as if they were family. And those new to the place, who tried to take things too far with her, were quickly taught the error by the other patrons. No one messed with Rebecca.

And while this may have created friction from the other wenches and cooks, she was always quick to offer a helping hand when they needed it. So their jealousy was easily won over by her kindness toward them. She treated everyone the same, with love and respect. Always willing to step into an argument and try to negotiate a peaceful resolution, rather than to just watch.

Of course, that has changed somewhat, after she ran from Oldbell, never intending to return.

Appearance: Rebecca's hair is of a golden brown, that hangs down past her shoulders in soft waves and curls. Occasionally she wears it up, using a red tie to keep it in place. Her browns eyes have known hurt only thrice in her young life, and she doesn't truly remember the first time. She wears the clothes of a tavern wench.... because before she left town, that is all she was. She is strong of arm, having helped move casks of ale from the cellar. Until recently, the only blemish upon her bronze skin was the black tattoos of ownership imprinted on the back of her neck.

Backstory: Rebecca doesn't remember much about her childhood. Her only memories from that time were being held down as the slaver imprinted his tattoo onto the back of her neck, and a second time soon after, when Tarren purchased her to work in the kitchens. But after that, none of her memories stand out as special. Tarren and the others who worked at his establishment taught her how to work in the kitchens, and she took to it easily, and soon she knew that this was where she belonged. Tarren was a good man, who treated his people with respect, making sure they were fed, slept comfortably, and kept clean. So it was that Rebecca forgot about her birth family, for her, the Hook and Cross was the only family she knew.

She started out in the kitchen. Catching a chicken or two, perhaps assisting Ava with buying fresh meat, fruit, and vegetables from the market. For years she was allowed only to prepare the vegetables for the soups and stews, but as she got older, that turned to killing, plucking, and then deboning the chickens. And when she got older, she learned to clean the rooms for the inn; mopping the floors, turning down the beds. Due to her friendly nature with the customers, she moved quickly from inn service, to the tavern room. As a young girl with no breasts to look down, the regulars tended to not give her trouble as she grew up. And those who even leered at her too long, in those years, were tossed out. Not by Tarren or one of his bouncers, but the other customers. She was never made to feel unsafe as she moved from table to table, serving each table with a bright smile and a cheerful demeanor. This lasted years after she'd grown into a woman, though the leering became more acceptable, getting 'handsy' never was allowed.

Becky never noticed just how good and lucky her life was. She somehow never saw the abuses the other girls had to put up with, they were just having fun. She excused the bruises some of the young lads had, they'd obviously been playing too rough. Boys will be boys, after all. But that changed one day when she'd been sent to the market to fetch some more beef for the stew. She heard a child scream out, and looked to see what was disturbing her bubble of innocence. She immediately saw the problem, a large man wielding a club of some kind held it threateningly over a young boy that was cowering on the ground, his hand raised over his head in protection.

She's not sure of why, but she couldn't stand back, as many other people were doing, and just watch. Still holding her basket of meat, she ran forward and placed herself between the angry man and the child. That was the moment when her whole life changed. When life became hard.

 

Last edited by In the Mix; 12-04-2018 at 10:38 AM.
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  #35  
Old 11-30-2018, 02:19 PM
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Couple of questions. What's the deadline? And what type of wildlife is around the coast for a ranger to hunt?
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  #36  
Old 11-30-2018, 02:43 PM
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I don't have a deadline in mind just yet, Interest-pending.

Closest to the coast are giant birds such as Rocs that you might have to worry about. Further away are bears, wolves, linx and cougars. Orcs and ogres roam the countryside in raiding groups that occasionally catch merchants and traders unawares along the less guarded parts of the road between oldbell and it's two neighboring cities. The Windy Summit is home to Giants from Hill size to Stone Size.
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  #37  
Old 11-30-2018, 04:58 PM
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I'll give it my first go and toss my hat in as well!
I've been eyeballing this ad for some time now and figured I should finally pull the trigger before its too late haha.

APPLICATION - Completed
Reli Garris
right-aligned image

Name: Reli Garris
Race: Mountain Gnome
Class: Rogue (Progressing to Arcane Trickster)
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Background: Guild Artisan

Personality Trait:
  • I always want to know how things work and what makes people tick.
  • I don't part with my money easily and will haggle tirelessly to get the best deal possible.

Ideal:
  • Generosity. My talents were given to me so that I could use them to benefit the world. (Good)

Bonds:
  • One day I will return to my guild and prove that I am the greatest artisan of them all.

Flaws:
  • I would kill to acquire a noble title.

Personality: When luck is not always on your side you either accept defeat and die or stay as optimistic as you possibly can. The later holds true for Reli who through the years have weathered all sorts of bouts of misfortune. Generally this misfortune is a direct result of him sticking his nose where it doesn't belong believing that his concoctions are the key to an issue that may or may not actually be present.
This has frequently resulted in him having to fix the issue(s) that have occurred from his interference with coin. Due to that coinage has developed a whole new level of value to him and if he is not spending it for the "good" of others then he does not see the point in parting with it at all. This has also planted the seed in his mind that nobility would solve his issues and allow him to keep making his concoctions for the good of all without the worry of lack of coin. Once that has occurred he would be able to prove to the guild that he isn't a bumbling fool.

Appearance: Reli is somewhat of an average joe for Gnomes in terms of looks. Standing around three feet six inches with a sun-bleached tan bandana covering the top of his head with pieces of chestnut brown hair poking out around the edges. Above his slightly ridged brow rests a pair of spectacles with a crack going across one of the lenses. A forest green vest adorned with pockets all over covers a fairly dirty white linen shirt along with brown trousers that have various alchemic tools strapped on with a make-shift belt made of hemp and a pair of old worn down leather boots that have been held together with what appears to be glue. A decently thick nose almost fully distracts one from his wild emerald green eyes that shine brightly due to the contrast of his tan and slightly burnt skin with a wide smile that never seems to leave his face.

Backstory:
 

RP sample: 'I'm just trying to help!'
 



Last edited by Retry; 12-10-2018 at 12:31 PM.
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  #38  
Old 11-30-2018, 05:02 PM
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Valon Waterscale
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Name: Valon Waterscale
Race: Dragonborn (blue)
Class: fighter (may multiclass later)
Alignment: LN (leaning towards CN)
Background: urchin/soldier
Personality trait:
- I eat like a pig and have bad manners. I can stare down a hell hound without flinching. I always sleep with my back to a wall or a tree.
Ideal:
- When people follow orders blindly, they embrace a kind of tyranny.
Bond:
- I own a debt I can never repay. I owe my life to the army, the only way I could pay that back is with my life.
Flaw:
- I will never fully trust anyone other than myself

Personality:
Valon is a pessimist and a survivor. Even after being enlisted and trained from a young age he knew he still did not belong in main stream society of Isica. Grateful for the chance to live his gratefulness turned to resentment and bitterness as he got older. Constantly being looked down on by his peers and superiors due to his race Valon became a gruff and hard to read person. He doesn’t talk much to others that he does not know. It does not take much provoking to get him to react negatively. There is always a chance his temper could boil over. Still he wants to make the world a better place for those less fortunate, like he was, but he just doesn’t know how to go about doing it in a more positive manner.

Appearance: Valon is large and imposing figure standing nearly seven feet tall. He broad in the shoulders and looks like he could crush a tankard in his claws. But it is not his height that really gets your attention but his bright cobalt blue scales. They shine and glisten like hundreds of sapphires. His eyes are bright yellow and he has a pair of swept back horns on his head. His tail has a ridge of lighter scales down the top and a spade point at the end. He wears a mix of mismatched and custom armor as nothing standard from the armory will fit him.

Backstory: Originally born in Shimmerscar, Valon was unwanted by his parents as he was unfortunate accident during a particularly hard economic time in the small town. Shimmerscar being off the main trade routes did not get the traffic that the other towns did and suffered great ebbs and flows of prosperity. It did not help that Shimmerscar had never recovered from the Lich King’s rise a century ago. His undead army had overrun the small town driving the inhabitents to other places in Isica. A shadow of its former self, no business seemed to flourish and little trade came through due to its proximity to the open cracks and fissures leading to the underdark.
An extra mouth and no coin to feed it with Valon wandered the streets of shany town Shimmerscar to fend for himself. His parents didn’t seem to care that their youngest offspring was being provided for by the sparse kindness of the residents of Shimmerscar and just luck.

At the age of eight Valon was scooped up off the muddy streets by a garrison of troops of the Isica army along with other urchins and anyone else desperate enough to enlist. The army seemed to be doing two things; one, bolster its reserve of soldiers and two, clean up the empire of potential crime and future problems. Housed, clothed and fed on a regular basis Valon grew into a formidable figure. Taller, broader and bulkier than his more human fellows Valon was trained in weapons, battle tactics and schooled in the law of the land. Once the army felt his training was complete Valon was sent to Oldbell for his assignment. He patrolled the town, the docks, inspecting cargo ships, slave ships, trade caravans before they set out into the empire. It was hard work that often got boring.

Still the army could not mold Valon into the model obedient soldier they wanted him to be. Being one of the few Dragonborn in Oldbell brought Valon excessive amounts of attention; some of it negative as some persons wanted to see just what a Dragonborn could do. His independent, wild dragon roots seemed to break through every so often with enough goading and provocation from the people of Oldbell. On and off duty Valon was known to get into a scrap leading him into trouble to the point of being placed in a cell for periods of times or other forms for martial punishment.

Having used up the last of his Captain’s patients and tolerance with his latest outburst Valon has been given little choice but to go north to Witham or be court-martialed with a strong likely hood of being hanged.


 
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Last edited by silverfeathers; 12-06-2018 at 04:14 PM. Reason: update to reflect new city information
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  #39  
Old 12-03-2018, 10:28 AM
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!Deadline is Friday, December 14 for applications! I will be selecting players through the weekend.
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  #40  
Old 12-03-2018, 10:46 AM
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Dec 14th....still trying to think of the right character to apply for this amazing game (your map especially has me hooked!) I hope I can come up with something by then.
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Old 12-03-2018, 10:47 AM
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Ohhhh yea. A deadline means I can start sweating over character details. Possible tweaks incoming!
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  #42  
Old 12-03-2018, 11:41 AM
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Let me know when your application is complete or if you change anything.
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Old 12-03-2018, 11:58 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Arthilian01 View Post
Let me know when your application is complete or if you change anything.
Oh it's complete. Was just a joke. Forgot the smiley
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  #44  
Old 12-03-2018, 07:52 PM
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Arthilian... are newbs welcome?

I ask, not as a site newb, but a 5e newb. I figure its time to give not pathfinder a whirl. 3.5 is all but dead, 2 never pops up anymore, and PF is dwindling... and with PF 2 on the horizon I figure its best to split instead of hedge my bets.
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  #45  
Old 12-03-2018, 08:15 PM
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Of course, you're welcome to join.
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