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  #16  
Old 12-02-2018, 12:13 AM
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Application complete.
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  #17  
Old 12-02-2018, 03:05 AM
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Thank you, applications table has been updated.

Thank you everyone for the great interest. To anyone who hasn't applied, why not?!
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  #18  
Old 12-02-2018, 03:32 AM
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Hi Papillon.

I think that youíre asking the question rhetoricaly, but Iíll answer it anyway.

I was actually eyeing your game quite closely. What kept me away is mainly the starting level. I know the higher level is attracting quite a few players interested for that exact reason. Since Iím not yet very familiar with 5e, I decided to leave this one for the more advanced players while I continue to get more experience in lower levels.

Anyway, thatís my reason, FWIW!
  #19  
Old 12-02-2018, 08:50 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Papillon View Post
I asked myself, huh? Then I glanced back at the Arcane Trickster and had an "aaaaahhhh" moment. A brief mention of the bear dissipating after Paul turns away, possibly with a flick of the wrist from Clive would help sell the illusion.
Good call. I went ahead and made the illusion explicit. It kind of takes away from the little story being entirely from Paul's point of view, but it better covers how Clive operates, which is the whole point. Clive isn't the type to just jump in and wrestle a bear!

I also added some more details about Paul, making it clear Clive is fleecing him for information which will allow him to more convincingly impersonate him.

Another note: I also intended to use the story to show some of the philosophy of the Mockingbirds; Paul earned his place as Clive's mark by being rude, but because Paul is poor and not actually a bad person, once Clive gets what he wants from him he lets him go, and better off than he was before. In effect, rather than steal from Paul, Clive traded with him. The trade occurred without Paul's knowledge or consent, but it's still a trade.
  #20  
Old 12-02-2018, 06:12 PM
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work in progress
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Name: Krus …sitaymer
Age: 38
Race: Human / Variant
Class: Sorcerer

Physical Description: Krus is tall and thin, with skin rough as leather from decades of stormy seas. His ice blue eyes stair out from his often hooded face. His voice is low and gruff, but can take a soft, almost musical tone when discussing his favorite subjects.

His clothes are made from exotic leathers pulled from the sea. His village may be small, but their tanners are known far and wide for their quality craftsmenship. His kit contains only the bare minimum to get by. Plush lives make for soft men, and the sea loves nothing more than crushing soft men.

Background: Krus was an orphan in a small fishing village, left on the door step of the orphanage. All that was left with the babe was a note, it simply said in water stained ink:

Krus ť sit ay mer.

And thus the babe was now known as Krus …sitaymer.

As Krus grew up, he spent more and more time sitting on the docks looking out to the sea, hours on end sometimes. The old fishers sometimes took him out on his boats to help them fish, which, shortly after they realized he had an almost unnatural skill at fishing, so Krus started up as a fisher. Krus learnt to watch out for the weather and always keep proper reverence to Gozreh, which they worshiped. Krus took all of this like a fish to water.

Krus was never sure how he discovered his magical ablity, was it when he made his fishing pole light up like a lantern one night fishing or when he was cleaning his clothes and he ran out of water, but the dirt and grime disappeared with a wave of his hand. He cannot remember, he just knew.

It was only a couple of years later after Krus made a name for himself in his village with his trading of fish to the elves that he saw a sign, or so he believed, a ripple that his boat made distorted the image of the clouds above into a perfect picture of a hand pointing inland. So Krus set off the next morning with out anyone knowing with all that he could carry and all of his savings.


RP sample: Krus made his way down the dusty trail wishing he had something cold and wet to wash the dust from his mouth. He looked up to scan the horizon and saw a cart on the side of the path. The closer he got he saw their wheel had busted and an older woman sat on the cart with a look of exasperation on her face.

"Do you need a hand mam?" The sorcerer yelled ahead. He approached the cart with his hands held before him. The bandits he tried earlier may have other travelers on edge. The woman hopped down and pointed to the broken wheel. Kris waved his hand over the broken parts and smiled as they stiches back together again.

"My name is Sandra by the way. So what brings you to this backwater part of the world?"

"Where are my manors, I am Krus …sitaymer. Were you guided by a premonition as well? Mysterious things are afoot and I intend to find out what!"

Sandra chuckled. "You could call the brutal murder of the priestess a premonition. That town isn't safe anymore. I'm getting out before the devil wolves get me too! If you have any brains in that head of yours, you'll follow with me."

Krus sighed as he finished his work. "I don't run from danger, I run towards it!" He clenched his fist and set the cart back on the road. "You take care mam, I promise your town will be safe again by the end of the season or my name isn't Krus …sitaymer "

Wolves howled in the distance. "Well, it was nice knowing you Francis." She said with a scoff as she hurried on down the road. Krus looked up at the sun. He hadn't lost too much time. He's make it to town before dark if he hustled. Not that traveling by night would be too hard. There was a full moon tonight afterall...
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Last edited by MattLovesCoffee; 12-05-2018 at 04:41 PM.
  #21  
Old 12-02-2018, 06:13 PM
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I'd kick myself if I missed out on the chance for some highish level D&D!

I should have my app finished and polished up in the next few days
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  #22  
Old 12-03-2018, 04:53 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Strange2099 View Post
Hi Papillon.

I think that youíre asking the question rhetoricaly, but Iíll answer it anyway.

I was actually eyeing your game quite closely. What kept me away is mainly the starting level. I know the higher level is attracting quite a few players interested for that exact reason. Since Iím not yet very familiar with 5e, I decided to leave this one for the more advanced players while I continue to get more experience in lower levels.

Anyway, thatís my reason, FWIW!
@Strange2099Hi!

Indeed I was, for comic effect.

That is a shame. While leveling can be tedious I don't think it's difficult.

@Everyone

There are a couple reasons for the level 10 requirement
  • As a level ten character, your background includes an increased scope of notoriety. People trust that you can handle the problems facing a small city or, in this case, the big problems of a small hamlet. In other words, you've idiom: to do something which shows that one deserves to be accepted and respected by the other people in a field or professionearned your stripes.
  • To handle the challenge that the story indicates and the monster manual pits you against, level ten is appropriate to keep it fair.
  • 5e doesn't give you massive bonuses to skills like previous versions can. Level 10 allows an unskilled fighter to fully participate in a social encounter.


IMO there are few better ways to learn than by doing.
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  #23  
Old 12-03-2018, 08:21 AM
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I believe that my application is now complete.
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Slow posting expected until the New Year. Happy Holidays everyone!
  #24  
Old 12-03-2018, 06:19 PM
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Iselda the She-Wolf
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Name: Iselda Drakensdottir
Age: 20
Race: Half-Elf
Class: Sorcerer/Barbarian

Appearance: At a first glance, there is nothing impressive about the petite girl standing before you. She is beautiful for sure, but in your experience platinum blonde hair and an hourglass figure are not usually the mark of a wolf hunter. She's maybe 5'1" tall, hardly the weight of two sacks of flour. Still, there is something off about the fair skinned half-elf that holds your attention. Its not her gentle features, her rosy lips, nor her serious demeanor. It's not her regal cloak, as tattered and bloodstained as it is. It's not even the way her voice cuts the air like a knife, as if it's an embodiment of the north wind itself. It's her eyes, deep violet in color, that pierce your own. They demand fealty, or at least compliance, as you feel yourself charmed to give her whatever she wants.

"Point...Which way to Deepwood?" Is all she whispers into your ear. You stutter, and point up the road.

Backstory: The birth of Iselda was not a day of celebration as much as it was a moment of tragedy for her father. Years prior, the brave Knight had saved his bride to be from the clutches of a fearsome dragon. It drove him crazy to see her die giving birth to a girl that bore the beasts eyes.

He turned to the keg, and when he lost his riches to booze and dragon's chess, he sold his only child to pay for his debt. Her mysterious buyer sold her again, presumably to pay for his own debt. At fourteen years old, Iselda was delivered to the northern wilderness as a tribute to the barbarians that lived there.

She learned quick by their hands that only the strong survive. Yet, Iselda always knew she was destined for greater things then to be a slave for mortal men. The longer her time at the side of the tribe's chieftain, the hotter a fire burned inside of her, yearning to be fed. She worked hard to keep it at bay, lest it smother her.

One night, the Chieftain offered her as a prize in a drunken challenge of strength against the Jarl of a nearby frost giant clan. Offended by the man's disrespect, the Jarl ripped him in half and slaughtered his tribe. Iselda was taken as his trophy, though she wouldn't bare the same fate as most giant prisoners. She found a gift in her words, twisting and manipulating the Jarl's thoughts as she sat perched on his shoulder in the throne room of his frozen fortress. She worked magic to slowly domesticate the being, to teach him right from wrong. She had a knack for reading other's thoughts, and offering counsel when answers escaped him. Over time, Iselda and the Jarl became inseparable and his subjects grew weary.

Jarl Throgg was enthralled with this half-elf girl. It wasn't many moons before he saw her as an equal, before he trusted her before his own kind. She was fierce, persistent in her resolve, unbreakable. The other giants murdered him when he tried to name her as his mate.

As the clan destroyed itself in a fight over who would usurp the dead Jarl. With unrelenting anger, she led the few that were loyal to her in causing as much carnage as possible. Fire cascaded throughout the castle. Smoke filled the halls. Of course, it was futile. By dawn Iselda's giants had lost, but not without a valiant last stand. Cornered by the throne they were cut down until only Iselda remained, shielded by a wall of fire. As the sun peaked over the horizon and winter once again reclaimed the castle, one final explosion shook the ramparts as Iselda disappeared in an inferno.

She ran from the land of giants and barbarians, leaving a trail of fire and ice in her wake. She rescued prisoners and took back riches that belonged to the frontier towns. Like a wolf, she hunted the tyrants of the wild, turning their sheep against them.

Iselda was free, but it wasnt freedom she craved. The dragon's daughter returns to civilization not to conquer, or to bid revenge. She returns to bring justice to those who can't bring it themselves, like herself, those many years ago.

Perhaps someday, she dreams of being strong enough to tame the wild that cast her out.

Roleplay Sample:

A wooden cart driven by two hooded men and a pair of oxen made it's way down the trail, bumping and rocking with each bump in their haste. Their eyes darted back and forth between the rough grassy road and the tall forest on their flanks.

They were afraid. Iselda could smell it, even before she stepped from the shadows of a pine into its path.

"Woah!!," One of the men hollered as he pulled hard on the reins, eyes bulging, the cart lurched. The other man was too shocked to speak. "What the heck are ye doing?! Are ye daft miss?! Its not safe in these woods!"

Ravens and crows circled above, attracted by the cadavers that were hanging out the wagon's rear. Iselda remained unphased, predators didn't bother themselves with carrion. Though the stench of death always shook her to the core, she didn't show it.

"I heard tales of a beast in this area, one that has ensnared the fears of your people and holds it ransom for it's own delight. I need you to show me where I might find it."

The men remained silent for a moment, staring as if sizing her up, before they burst out laughing. "I'm sorry my lady, while I don't doubt your courage, maybe you ought to turn around. Men much bigger then yourself have met too early of ends chasing after this monster."

Iselda cracked a smile as she strutted up the side of the wagon, climbing up the side and placing a delicate hand on the shoulder of the man offering his warning. She leaned in close, pressing her other hand against his chest and her lips to his ear. So quiet a whisper escaped that the other man would swear he never heard a thing.

"Point...Which way to Deepwood?"

The young gent stuttered as he tried to speak, staring into her violet eyes. He pointed down the road. She thanked him and started to step down when his hand caught her waist. It seemed he had something else to say after her charm wore off.

"B-b-e careful miss, they say the beast is stronger then a bear and faster then any wolf. It ripped apart the lads in the back and it'll kill you just like it killed our priestess!!"

Iselda gently picked up his hand and set it back on his lap before stepping off of the rig in one graceful leap.

"It can try!" She called back, running her hands through the tall grasses that grew alongside the path. "But I don't care much for murderers."

Smoke drifted casually from the scorched tips of the grass as she made her way out of view.

These people deserve to be saved.

Last edited by NorthOfOrdinary; 12-07-2018 at 07:32 PM.
  #25  
Old 12-03-2018, 06:53 PM
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You had PHB and online sources (on approval). What about "Xanathar's Guide to Everything"? That book ok to use?
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Leaning against the wall, watching the others rush by him, he grins. "Go ahead, go get that treasure that's laying there. Be more for me after you die."
  #26  
Old 12-03-2018, 08:05 PM
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As long as you can provide the information and I can review. I do not own that resource myself.
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  #27  
Old 12-03-2018, 09:18 PM
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ok, book came out early this year. I also have the pdf file of the book. So I can copy and paste the spells info to you in a pm
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Leaning against the wall, watching the others rush by him, he grins. "Go ahead, go get that treasure that's laying there. Be more for me after you die."
  #28  
Old 12-04-2018, 02:29 PM
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Finished with my app!
  #29  
Old 12-05-2018, 02:09 AM
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I'm going to drop out. Don't think I can commit enough time to this. Hope you all enjoy !
  #30  
Old 12-05-2018, 04:34 AM
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SORT OF COMPLETE
Character Submission
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Name: Gwethren Nightshade (real name Tinuviel du'Thilion)
Age: ?
Race: High Elf
Class: Mystic
Physical Description: Gwethren, or Gwen as the locals of Dartmuth have come to call her, is one of a few elves unlucky enough not to be blessed with perfect elfin features. She was simply too short (she's 4'10"), her ears too pointy, and her face too angular to ever be described as elegantly beautiful. Haughty could be one way to describe her, even condescending like most high elves, but never truly stately or pretty.

Gwen's profession has necessitated her wearing light armor for protection, and she is often seen hiding her brown locks with dark or earth-colored cloaks. She travels light, carrying a light pack on her back, and a thin, long, curved saber (a reflavored rapier)blade strapped to her hip, but her hands are busy flipping the pages of some ancient book more often than not. Most of the time Gwen manages to avoid bumping into another person or the occasional tree while being nose-deep into her reading. Sometimes she's scribbling furiously on her journal, also while walking. What people find quite strange about Gwen though is not so much her garb, but the lack of it; specifically the absence of footwear. She's barefoot even when on bounty hunts.

RP sample: The hare looked so tantalizing, grazing only a few yards away. In the bushes, Tinuviel's mouth started to water; she had run out of rations a full day ago, and would be stir-crazy if not for her almost empty waterskin. The elf creeps softly behind the obscuring foliage, her feet soft and soundless in the undergrowth; no twig even snapped as she moved closer to the animal. She readied to strike with her throwing spear, when suddenly she heard the soft thwang of a bow from her left, and now the tail of an arrow was sticking out the poor rodent's side.

"Figured it would've been faster with a bow; the critter might have gotten away from your spear."

A tall, slender half-orc walked towards Gwen and the hare, stowing he bow around one shoulder as she moved. Short tusks crept out both sides of her soft lower lips, and her dark her was tied into a neat braid that lay over her left shoulder. "Name's Gartha. We'll share the kill; I take the pelt, you take the meat. You look much hungrier anyway."

The elf's stomach chose that exact moment to rumble, and Gwen blushed in embarrassment. "Gwen. That's uh, mighty kind of you, Gartha."

Gartha shrugged. She then knelt down beside the down animal, took out her arrow, then began skinning the hare. "I wasn't really here for hare. In Deepwood we sell the skins off deer, or wolf, or bear. Rabbits are too small to really earn a profit."

"From Deepwood, huh? I was heading there myself. Peregrin's Quick Companion to Scenic Lands says it's half a day's trek east of here. That about right?" Gwen produces a thick, leatherbound book from her backpack, opens to a double-page spread map, than extends it to where the hunter could see.

The half-orc stopped her knife work, studied the map for a bit, then chuckled. "Oh, yeah, half a day's trek east of here. Then three days of backtracking to the southwest, and you're smack-dab in Deepwood, alright. Whoever Peregrin is, he ain't no map-maker, that's for sure!" Gartha let out a full, throaty laugh at that.

Gwen couldn't help a grin, despite having her book insulted. She helped set up a fire pit for the meat, and in a matter of minutes, both were done and were waiting for the hare to be roasted and ready to eat. Gwen stared at the caramelizing flesh, its juices dripping on the small flame. Her mouth was watering even more, now. She was about to snag a cooked piece when a strange cry pierced the silence of the forest. Both heads looked up, scanning for the source. The sound they heard was not from any discernable humanoid or animal; something was off about it. This continued for a while, then stopped.

"It's not safe here. There've been rumors of a wild beast roaming around these parts for some time now. I ain't never seen one other than the occasional wolf or bear; though there seemed to be more wolves these days than deer... Anyway, there has been one casualty so far, the priestess in town bit the dust, so to speak, and no one knows why..."

Gwen got the sense from Gartha's babbling that she was more scared than she let on. Gwen was starting to doubt her own wisdom coming here, too, but didn't say that out loud. "Best we move on, then?"

That got the glint back in the hunter's eye, and she replied with a smile. "I second that. Grab your meal, douse the fire, and let's hop to it. I'll get ya to Deepwood sooner than you can say Jack Rabbit."

Gwen did just that, and as she followed closely behind Gartha, the finder in her started to get curious in the information she had just received. There's something going on in Deepwood, and no one seems to know what exactly. This was going to be an interesting stopover.

As she took a huge bite off her cooked hare, Gwethren Nightshade smiled. Then chewed and swallowed her food.


Last edited by Tinuviel; 12-06-2018 at 02:31 AM.
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