[Characters] Our Intrepid Heros

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[Vahnscraze]

Name: Ulrick Ostgood
Race: Halfling
Class: Oracle (Nature)

 

Background It all started with two halflings getting really friendly in a mulberry patch. Time passed, and out came Ulrick. Born to an alchemist father and a wizard mother, he was always intrigued by their research and discoveries. They worked so well together and never really fussed about anything (other than wandering where an ingredient got to only to find out the other had used it in a spell or potion.) His father was generally a relaxed individual when it came to brewing potions and concoctions used in battle (might have been the 'recreational herbs', but he was just a kid at the time; he didn't know any better.) He was given insight into the ways of the wizard and alchemist, but neither one seemed to peek his interest. The possibility of something going horribly wrong intrigued him on both accounts, but it wasn't something to which he was passionate about. Milling around his town, he learned of the church that sat in a crevice of the village. Looking into it, his curiosity driving him forward, he spoke with one of the priests there and learned of their divine god to which they pray and give offerings to. Preferring to do research, he read up on the church's god, beliefs, codes, etc. Upon doing so, he came across other deities and read up on them while it was convenient. After conducting enough research, he spoke more with the priest and decided to join them and travel the world spreading good faith to all. His parents weren't too happy about that, but they were supportive of his decision nonetheless. Donning the robes, he stayed and learned all there was to know about praying, specific prayers, even learning the language of the holiest of creatures: Celestial. Doing good deeds around town made him feel as though he was contributing towards the community; something that he felt excited about doing and loved it. After a year, he got his first job as a missionary in a nearby village. He was to be sent off with a few others to switch positions to a group that had been there for about a year. On their travels, they were ambushed by a small group of kobolds. Luckily, one of the priests was trained in actual combat. Wielding his dagger that he kept for protection, he prayed to the Almighty Pair that they make it safely out of this in celestial. A few scratches and cuts later, he manages to down one of them while the others manage the rest of the group. Applying bandages to his wounds and the others', they pressed on towards the village. Making it there safely, they continue to meet with the group and swap out the following day; they needed much deserved rest after their previous struggle. Laying on his back, staring at the ceiling, Ulrick's mind wandered around the correlation of them getting out of there without any serious damage and his prayer in the holy tongue. It may have been mere coincidence, or luck, but it was something he would try again if the situation called for it. From the next day, he would spend the next couple years here. While having been a priest in this village for a few years, he had come across a woman whom cloaked herself whenever she came around town. Learning of her whereabouts, while not on duty, he proceeded to meet with her as she was making her way through town. She was a bit withdrawn and quiet at first, but after realizing he was also a halfling, she opened up a little more. She was apparently a sorceress; something people tend not to be fond of in this town, but they haven't taken any hostile actions against her, so she stays just outside the village. From then on, he would talk with her more and more; eventually discarding the cloak as her comfort level in the village had raised. Something that had intrigued him greatly about her is her ability to bring into being something from nothing; it was magic similar to his mother's, but didn't require any materials to make it happen. Time and their relationship progressed until, ultimately, they wed. They moved into a new home inside the town and Ulrick remained a permanent priest for the village. From then on, their lives together were the merriest he could possibly imagine. Eventually, he came to have a daughter, and then a son. As they grew, so did his happiness. He had everything he ever wanted: doing something he was passionate about, a wife at home, two adorable kids, a humble home, everything this little halfling could ask for. Other than a few close-calls of bandit or animal attacks, his life was fairly mundane. During the times of the attacks, he found himself praying and speaking in celestial out of habit to help ward the negativity and bring him a positive outcome. Around middle-aged, a disaster occurred: a streak of light flashed and a thunderous bellow echoed throughout the village centered on his home. Checking to see if everyone was alright, he found none. Locals swarmed the home to see what had happened and found only the older man alone trying to remain optimistic, but struggling against a losing battle. As the guards entered and questioned what had happened, he explained what he saw and the disappearance of his family. Some were aww-struck, some thought it was an 'act of god', others believed that sorceress did something. Whatever they believed at the time, the man was in shambles at the moment. The guards searched the house and the local area, but found none. One individual reported the possibility of the man having murdered his own family. Setting this into motion, he was put on trial. With no defense or witness to the event other than himself, he felt he was losing this battle until people came to his defense on character; stating that he was not the kind of person that would ever do that. Seeing nothing to pin on him other than purely circumstantial evidence, the court ruled in Ulrick's favor. Even so, his family was gone and the memories his home held pulled on his heart. Not desiring to dwell on the past, he packed up his things and took off to another town in a quiet neighborhood where he ended up in Brandon's Bridge. It was there he ended up staying the next twenty years: aiding the town and returning to the solitude of his home for studying a plethora of topics.

 

Personality When a villager thinks of the name "Ulrick Ostgood", a few things come to mind: midget, old man, and a good guy. Hell, he has good in his name, he's gotta be a gentle character, right? Well, that's a half-truth. Ulrick does tend to be fairly generous with his time and resources to those around town. Despite his size and age, the old man can still work pretty well; carrying things around, chasing down kids, preaching to the religious, he does it all (kind of). The teenagers have even come up with a game of "Who can outlift the midget?" It's a fun game, really. The kids would catch him working around town and try and lift something heavier than him. If they succeeded, Ulrick would play along and add on another bucket of water to his load, or something to that extent and the kids would follow in suit. When they won, they felt victorious over the little man and ran off cheering to themselves. If they lost, they muttered things to themselves and ran off; looking forward to the next time they play so they can win. Another tid bit, the old man talks to himself. On occasion, really, but most just pawn it off as he's just getting old and kooky when in fact he hears the whispers of his former family. When his family had 'disappeared' with no physical evidence of their passing, he began to hear their voices in his head. Initially, he thought himself insane, assuming he was only hearing what he wished to hear, but the voices were not of idle thoughts; they were sometimes warnings. Because of the whispers of his kin, he dodged a blade to his backside more than once and he thanks the Almighty Pair for that. With those happenings, he had suspicions that they weren't killed or taken away, but their souls were put inside him. A bit of a tragic end to his family, but knowing they were watching over him gave him some comfort in the thought. Enough so that he would try and talk back whenever he heard them. He wasn't sure if they knew what he was saying, but if they could, perhaps they would understand he still loved them and thinks about them. He's generally a kind man who's happy to help any in need, but he's not one to fall for any traps he sees coming. When the situation turns in a manner that is unsettling, he will try to use his 'old man' card to change the situation in his favor (or if people are being all 'antsy' and impatient-like). He's lived long enough to understand when things aren't what they seem and he wasn't going to be a victim again.

 

RP Sample "And with the swing of his mighty hammer, canyons were formed on impact with mountains peaking high into the clouds in the surrounding area. Taking his gr..." Confused for a moment, looking at the text deeply, he attempted to decipher the word he had come across in his book written in the tongues of giants. "What is a Grungathar? Perhaps a dialect of giant I am unfamiliar with. Maybe I could find another reference around here somewhere." As his fingers began to grace his wall of books, a knock came from his door. Guests? I wasn't expecting anyone. Let's take a look. The new presence peaking his interest, he made his way over to the front door and opened it. Two local guardsmen were standing before him. After looking at the little, old man, they felt slightly relieved. "Sorry to bother you, but we've received reports of a dark voice speaking in tongues from your home again." "I'm sorry about that. You know I get nightmares every now and then and when that happens, my instincts kick in. You're welcome to search the house if it'll put the reporter at ease." It was clear he wasn't pleased about the guards entering his home on a regular basis, but when he gets nightmares, he speaks in what most would call 'tongues', or a language of evil, and they would be wrong. When in times of stress, he converts to speaking Celestial. It all happened from his time as a travelling priest, but that is for another time.

[IDentityCrisis]

Name: Gareth (Sheet)
Sex: Male
Race: Halfling
Age: 27
Class: Druid (Storm Druid: Air Domain, Wind Subdomain)
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Traits: Reactionary + Focused Mind

Summary

Gareth is an oddity among druids in that he looks to the sky above when others would seek answers in the roots beneath them. With much of his time spent communing with the playful breezes of the mountains, he often overlooks his duties as a warden of nature. Even so, his predilection for peaceful resolutions and ability to maintain a higher perspective has made these minor transgressions tolerable to many of the circle.

Description

With piercing blue eyes and brown hair no shorter than his shoulders, Gareth displays a rugged handsomeness likely attributed to his minimalized contact with animals of the wild. As a frequent traveler of the mountains, he more closely resembles and is frequently assumed to be a mountain ranger in his earthy tones. Bearing two shortspears and a wooden shield, this halfling is most peculiar indeed.

Background

Gareth's mother died in childbirth leaving him as the only child of a father he would seldom get to see. Seeking employment in the nearby city, his father spent much of his time working away from home while Gareth lived with his mother's sister. Married with a child of her own, his aunt all but ignored him as she doted upon her precious baby boy. Gareth spent much of his childhood alone and unwanted in a house that should feel like home.

His few cherished memories were of the rare occasion that his father would come home to visit him. He'd bring tasty treats from the market and share stories of exotic travelers he'd seen before telling him how much he wished he had been there. He promised one day he'd save up enough for a house they could call their own. Sadly, these visits were painfully brief as his father kissed him on the head, paid his aunt for her troubles and set off to the city. Life would carry on like this for many years until he heard the voices.

Laying on the bench in his aunt's garden, Gareth was staring up at the clear sky when the morning breeze drifted in over the wall. It tousled his hair as he closed his eyes before he felt the strangest of feelings. A soft murmur played about his ears that he couldn't quite understand until it sailed away with the wind. Gareth felt strangely comforted by what he had heard, but it would leave him wanting for many days before returning.

On a particularly blustery day, Gareth was perched up on one of the village walls. He found high places oddly relaxing and enjoyed the view of the rolling plains they afforded him. It was on this day that the wind spoke to him. Not quite in words, but in feelings and vibrations he would develop an intuitive understanding of in the months that followed. It wasn't long before his cousin noticed him talking and laughing with himself. Invisible friends, imaginary or otherwise, weren't foreign to children of his village, but Gareth was the first to claim he was speaking to the sky. His cousin quickly spread wild exaggerations of the strangeness he had observed.

Small, even for a Halfling, and perceived as a tad more than eccentric, the children began to pick on him. They'd throw rocks and sticks while waving about large, flat objects as if to suggest they were "speaking" to him. Gareth received his fair share of scrapes and bruises, but he would learn to rely on the subtle warnings of his new "friend" to avoid their misguided hostility.

The days since his father's last visit seemed to stretch on forever. Weeks passed by, then months; he felt a crushing disappointment creeping over his life. His aunt was becoming increasingly annoyed by his presence without a financial incentive to keep him around. This would eventually result in her forcing Gareth out on the street, convinced his father was never coming back. The abandonment he felt painted the world in shades of depression. With no place to call home, he retreated into the forested plains nearby. The skies shared his sadness by raining for many days. It was a small comfort in his otherwise lonely existence. He would find a home in the wild, but it would be many years before he'd return to the civilized world.

Motivation

The air has turned sour; the fearful cries of nature's children carried up the mountain to where his ears could hear them. Something has entered in to his domain, its disregard for the natural order not unnoticed. When the voices called to him he answered with an unwavering focus. He would bring peace to the denizens of his forest abode.

Facing the speckled lights of the city below, he began his way down the mountain. He would need help if he was to calm the forest. Gareth had passed through Brandon's Bridge some days ago. One of the townsfolk had been rather hospitable. He could recall their warm countenance though the name escaped him. He was terrible with names. . .

Roleplay Sample (Different Character) “What do you mean you can’t find him? What, exactly, do I pay you for?” The mayor’s shouts could be heard several streets over where Susurrus hid in the rubbish of a neglected alley. Not my proudest moment, he admitted, but one doesn’t get caught spying on the mayor’s wife and expect to walk away a free man. He was chasing rumors of her sneaking off in the night for less than reputable reasons. It wasn’t unusual for him to happen upon such unsavory bits of information – after all, he usually went looking for them – but despite his better judgment he couldn’t leave a puzzle unsolved; he never could. He was still processing the bizarre sequence of events he’d just witnessed. He had picked the perfect vantage point: an old tree overlooking the back of the estate. It wasn’t long before he saw the wife; the many bright lanterns carrying her long shadow across the grass. With a sweep of her hand, they suddenly dimmed. Straining his eyes, he noticed what he could only describe as a dark fog race across the grounds top stop directly before her. She produced a glowing object before plunging it into the darkness. A few muttered words and the shadow slid up and over the wall. “Help! Thief!” she suddenly cried, waving her hand once more as the lights regained strength. Susurrus knew something wasn’t right, but appreciating the growing risk of the present, he leapt down from the branch and stole across the garden towards the city. As the shouts drifted away into night he crept towards the street. Looking down the path he could see the lantern hanging over the open gate. Before he could act, a voice struck out from the roof overhead, “Are you lost, boy?” A dark figure swept down into the street, blocking his passage to safety. It wasn’t often that he felt desperation looming over him, but the grave realization that he had stolen a sight not meant for him was rising in the back of his throat. Reaching deep within himself, he lowered his hands to his sides. The air began to swirl about him building into a roar before he raised his hands; an invisible wave of force rushing out to knock the threat aside. Time to go! he thought sprinting toward the gate before disappearing into the forest’s welcoming embrace. The wind rustled in the leaves above as he took shelter for the night. A soft, “Thanks” was all that was heard before he drifted off to sleep. When he awoke, he was startled to find a letter resting on his chest. He quickly looked about for danger before his curiosity got the better of him. He carefully unfolded the paper, “I’m told you know how to handle yourself; it’s not every day someone gets by Vesper. I have need of someone with your talents. Follow the mark, Farroh.” Upon reading the final words, the letter evaporated into the air; the soft glow of a newly formed symbol on his palm pointing the way to adventure.

Playstyle

Gareth is very much a peacekeeper in that he strives to resolve problems without violence. To this end, his spell selection and choice of actions will focus upon controlling or disabling his opponents before killing them outright. While he will defend his life if forced to, he will not take pleasure in extinguishing the life of another. This attitude is susceptible to change if Gareth is presented with an enemy that is deliberately and maliciously pursuing the corruption/disruption/destruction of nature or the air/wind/skies.

In regards to the possibility of future campaigns/modules after this short one-off, Gareth can find motivation for participating either by making a meaningful connection with someone he would wish to protect (like a party member or NPC) or if the air/wind/whatever impresses upon him the sense that he needs to go there. (Reasons could include a threat to nature or anything that would be personal to him)

 

Defining Elements

• Prolonged isolation and communion with nature has given him incredible focus and patience that makes him difficult to anger.
• Considers violence a poor tool for settling differences and embraces the flexibile/compromising mindset of the wind.
• Finds it difficult to make connections with others as he's only ever experienced abandonment/disappointment.
• Doesn't have an animal companion because he considers the wind his "best friend" or companion.
• Casts spells that involve the weather more than the greener aspects of nature.

Goals

• To restore balance to the forest so that the wind might "play" in it once more.
• To achieve a level of communion with the air/wind that allows them to interact as equals/peers.

Secrets

• While living with his relatives he witnessed their son (his cousin) stealing money from them to pay for his gambling problem. Hasn't told anyone because he felt they deserved it.
• Doesn't know that his father stopped visiting because he was wrongfully accused of theft and imprisoned. If investigated it will be discovered that he was framed by his employer who didn't want to pay him for his work.

Relationships

• Gareth still loves his father, but the apparent abandonment has shaken the relationship. He has fond memories of his father visiting him as a childhood, but Gareth will find it difficult to forgive his father right away.
• Stopped in Brandon's Bridge before heading into the mountains. While there, he met someone that offered him shelter whenever he was in town. Gareth found the idividual surprisingly eas to trust. (I didn't look up NPCs in Brandon's Bridge to avoid spoilers, but this could be an existing or fabricated NPC. Just someone who would get along well with a nontraditional druid)
• His cousin was caught stealing from other townsfolk and is currently awaiting transport to the nearby city. If Gareth returns to his home village his cousin will try to dupe him into helping him escape by claiming innocence.

Mannerisms/Quirks

• Never cuts his hair shorter than his shoulders so that the wind can "play" in his hair while speaking to him.
• Can be unnerving to speak to due to his extreme focus. He looks directly into the eyes of anyone he converses with.
• Climbs to elevated locations to commune with the wind in times of trouble or when seeking answers. A primary motivation for his frequent trips to mountainous areas.

[Coelubris]

Name: Ishani
Race: human
Class: Sorcerer

 

Ishani is a child of the jungle. Her sorcerer bloodline is Draconic (copper). She discovered she had a talent for sorcery, and she was drawn into the world so she could practice her skills, improve upon them, and become more. She feels that she has a destiny out there somewhere, and that it is her duty to go forth and find it. Her talent for magic caused her to stumble through a magical portal once when she was small, and it gave her a bit of an affinity for distance magic, the spell spanning thousands of miles to the copper Dragon's lair she is descended from. This set her feet upon the path of sorcery, and when the Dragon batted her little self back through the portal with an amused laugh, she ended up absolutely exhilarated, and at the same time determined to learn as much as she could about her innate magical gifts. She has come to Brandon's Bridge so she can both help people, and help herself learn to be a better sorceress.

Personality: She is friendly, very pretty, and a generally enjoyable soul to be around. She doesn't judge anyone on their physical aspect, as she herself knows, that isn't always a good indicator of what's on the INSIDE. She respects those who work for a living, be it with their hands, or with their minds, finding those who do it a worthy person. She dislikes those who prey upon others from sloth or laziness, and finds it offensive when slavers ply their trade as well. Being an exotic, she's faced her own fair share of those who thought she wasn't as smart as they, even though she's human, but is a sorceress. She tends to fidget with the tip of her ponytail when she's nervous, and the power within her can sometimes be seen in a lambent glow of her coppery-golden eyes.

 

RP Sample:
Ishani sighed, feeling sorry for the poor trader whom Edgral had brought into the village. He'd lost not only all of his wares, but his health had been badly set back, and that broken leg might not heal as well as they might like. She waited until Edgral had taken him off to the little village inn, and then moved to speak with Edgral. She told him earnestly "Edgral, I want to help your village. When you are ready to hunt these bandits down, I will help you. I may not look very fierce, but I assure you, I can help. It makes my heart ache, knowing that these bandits prey upon your village, your people, and don't even think twice about what harm they may be doing." Gaining his permission, she settled in to wait for the others to gather, studying hard as she prepared to combat those who sought to hurt so many others without hesitation or even a qualm.

[GrassMonkey]

Application Name: Vitos Brokensoul Race: Half-Orc Alternate Racial Features: Rock Climber Half-orcs from mountainous regions are excellent climbers, and sometimes ambush prey by leaping down from above. Half-orcs with this racial trait gain a +1 racial bonus on Acrobatics and Climb checks. This racial trait replaces the intimidating trait.Rock Climber, Sacred Tattoo Many half-orcs decorate themselves with tattoos, piercings, and ritual scarification, which they consider sacred markings. Half-orcs with this racial trait gain a +1 luck bonus on all saving throws. This racial trait replaces orc ferocity.Sacred Tatoo Class: Monk of the Sacred Mountain Traits: Eyes of the Wild, Mutant Eye Personality: Vitos is a good natured yet often misunderstood soul, he seeks to travel the world to learn more of himself and the peoples that live their. He hopes to eventually find acceptance for who he is instead of rejection for how he looks. He will glady help Brandon's Bridge, if nothing else that to finally have a place to start building the reputation he will need if he is ever to be accepted by those arround him. He is not sensitive about his third eye, he considers it a blessing and makes no attempt to hide it. A simple headband would conceal it from unwanting eyes but he wears it as a badge of honor. He is normally very withdrawn, tending to focus his mind on meditations and his continual training regiment. Every morning he begins the day with a breathtaking display of the martial arts that was part of his training regime at the temple and has become his ritualistic greeting to the day and whatever surprises life may throw at him. Background A Tragic Tale The eyes are the windows of the soul "It's horrible, get it away!", the cry was not one that would be expected from a mother, especially one who had just given birth. Salina had known that the chances of his child being born normal were slim. She had fully expected the pale green skin, the dominant canines, and even the bloodred eyes, but nothing had prepared her for the third eye. It was truely an abomination. Her unholy union with the massive beast Gorthunk, an Orc slave whose stamina was legendary, had brought on something she had never wanted. Nine months of delay to her plans of domination for the region of Silmonea, nine months of pain and sickness that preventer her from completing the crafting of the Jade Skull. An Artifact that would give her unchallanged control over the many dead that littered the ruined country-side in the wake of her rapidly advancing armies. She had planned over the last few months to use the child of her womb as a sacrifice to fuel the creation process, but deformed as the child was he wasn't even worthy as a sacrificial lamb. "Give it to the father, before you slit their worthless throats." she ordered and watched her trusted luitenant back out of the bedchamber with a deep bow, the abomination wrapped in dark cloths. ***** Gorthunk was unusual for an orc in more than just his size, a biproduct of the circumstances of his own interacial parentage, he seemed more ogre than orc. He had spent his entire life under the witches thumb and had only taken to her bed to keep his head on her shoulders. The womans lust for pleasures of the flesh was almost as great as her vicious temper and dark disposition. Seeing his child for the first time, he was filled with something that was foreign to most of his race, despite the childs deformities he knew he could not let Salina's evil schemes harm the child. A flash of metal in the dim torchlight warned him split seconds before his lifeblood would have spewed forth across the fragile form of his first and only child. Fighting with his child in arm was difficult, but years of serving the witch as a slave and soldier had honed his muscles to a fine fighting edge. It was a brutal fight, one that ended with the dissapearance of an orc and it's half-human infant, but not in the way Salina had planned. He managed to make it out of the compound, past Salina's massive armies, and deep into the mountains before he succumbed to his wounds. The beast died with a smile on his face, he had reached the reputed monestary in time, his child would live on. The Monks of the Sacred Mountain didn't know what to make of the situation, but they were not about to allow the child to freeze in the cold wintry mountain air, no matter what his parentage was. Secluded and hidden from outsiders in a small valley surrounded by treacherous clicks and jagged peaks, Vitos would grow into a strong warrior. Far away from the judging eyes of the so called civilized races, he was raised with patience, understanding, and most importantly, love. A Journey Begins The river must forge its own path down the mountain. "I will not foget everything you have taught me Master," the unusual half-orc ramained kneeling in a contemplative stance, his massive arms resting calmly on his knees. All around him, the almost ritualistic life of warrior monks continued unnoticed by Vitos BrokenSoul. Not far away a desciple of the Sacred Moutain stood perched precariously on the head of a quarterstaff that stoof balanced and unsupported on the cold cobblestone floor. The desciple had been there for three days now and was nearing the end of his first trial needed to be proclaimed a true monk of the Sacred Mountain. The trials would last him for the next three months. "Go with the brotherhoods blessings child, you must walk your own path, there are many lessons that you must learn outside of the confines of these stone walls. This place is like a cage, and you were born to be free.", the masters words came as a mixed blessing to the half-orc, he had always known that one day he would leave, but the temple was the only home he had ever known. He knew despite the lack of actual praise from the masters, that they considered him one of their most prized students. His ability to read a mans facial expressions had become somewhat legendary and the masters had explained that the physical representation of the minds eye was the reason behind his unusual perceptiveness. Vitos bowed deeply touching his forehead to the stoneworked floor in acknowledgment of the masters wishes before rising, gathering his quarterstaff, and making his way to the secluded temples gates. There was nothing else that needed to be said, like him the master was also extremely perceptive to what lay in a mans heart, and they were far past the need for verbal communication. It was time for the halforc to stand on his own two feet, time for him to venture out into the wide world, and time to face his destiny. Rocky Begginings A monster isn't born, a monster is created. "Stop were you are freak," the voice of the town guards rang out dripping with a bitter hatred that he was becoming accustomed to. He halted his advance and stared the guards down with three impassive red eyes. Unlike his kin, his eyes were not cursed with the yellow stains or bloodshot lines of anger seething beneath the surface. They were calm, cool, and patient. "I am only passing through good sirs," he responded in the calming tones knowing that it would matter little, the guards eyes were still locked on his third eye which examined them with a penetrating gaze as it moved up and down the guards independantly of his normal eyes. Those looked past the guards and down the dirt road to what appeared to be an inn." I am simply looking for a hot meal and a place to rest my feet and sooth the weariness of the road from my bones. Perhaps a hot bath, if one is available." "You really think we buy that? You think we are fools and that we would let monster like you into our peaceful community? I should kill you were you stand for such and insult!" the guard shouted from only a few feet away, his words spewing spittle across the monks face even from such a distance. "I see it was a mistake to come here, I bid you good day sir. I would not wish to darken your doorstep on such a fine day," he turned slowly away and began retracing his steps back into the woods from which he had came. "Wait!" a voice called out from within the town and he turned to notice an aging man in white robes who was adorned with some sort of religious emblem attached to a chain arround his neck."Let the man through Steve, he obviously means us no harm." The guards backed away in respect for the aging priest and nodded their acceptance, "My name is Brother Gravin, I do apologize for the guards reaction. Although for some reason i do not believe that you hold them any malice for their rough treatment." Vitos extended his hand and clasped the priest offered arm in greeting, "It is quite ok, Brother Gravin. I am quite used to it." His third eye continued to watch the guards for any sudden movements as he locked eyes with the priest and a small smile touched his lips. This man was a respected member of the community and a good man, he didn't need the minds eye to know that. "Come, come, we'll get you that hot bath and meal you mentioned and then we'll sit down for a chat. I have a proposition for you, you look like you can handle yourself and we have had a few problems lately that I need someone to take a look into." It was the understatement of the century, Vitos though short for a half orc at only five foot six was packed with hardened and finely toned muscles. His quaterstaff was well worn from the road but tipped in steel mountain peaks on both ends and obviously deadly. Lesser men would avoid him altogether without even noticing the unusual third eye. "Welcome to Brandons Bridge my friend."

[Mcderth]

Name: Melody Flynn

Race: Human

Class: Rogue (Swashbuckler Archetype (and Scout if we get to fourth level))

 

Melody's story begins with her father, Flynn Warden. Flynn appeared in Brandon's Bridge sixteen years back barely able to walk, covered in burns and cuts, carrying an infant girl with him. He had refused to tell the people where he had come from, but begged the townsfolk to help him, if only for the child's sake. While many where nervous about it the people took them in and nursed the man back to health. The citizens never found out where the two had come from or what had happened to bring him there in such a state (Flynn absolutely refused to talk to anyone about it, including Melody) but none ever came hunting them or asking questions.

Flynn built a cabin a few miles away from Brandon's Bridge and raised his daughter there, making a living selling meat, furs and wood in the settlement. From a young age he took Melody with him, teaching her how to hunt, fish, trap and survive in the wilds. During the winter months he made sure to teach her reading and writing, as well as slightly more eccentric things like how to disable locks and how to defend herself. However other then the days her father went into the village to trade Melody never interacted with others, and so she slowly grew into beautiful but socially awkward young women.

About a year ago Flynn died unexpectedly. Melody took it rather hard (as could only be expected), but after a few months took her fathers place on trading days, doing her best to carry on.

 

Melody is brave and fierce when fighting, however she does very poorly in social settings. It's not that she doesn't like people, it's just that she gets very nervous when she tries to talk to anyone since she's unsure and unfamiliar with how to act around them. This nervousness usually manifests itself as stuttering speech and an inability to look anyone in the eye, especially when she is made the center of attention, Some of the people think that she is simple and unintelligent because of this, but that is far from the case. While she is slow to warm up to others she is totally loyal to those that she considers her friends (even if they don't realize she thinks of them as such), and a fair number of people have tales of how she and her father have helped them over he years, whether by bringing them food, hunting down a predator killing livestock or helping a lost family member out of the wood. All in all she a fairly strange but good hearted young woman.

 

Melody sat silently in the tree stand, watching the deer moving quietly munching on the grass below her. She had been observing the animal for well over twenty minutes now, patiently waiting for the creature to turn just right and give her the perfect shot. A couple of times she was tempted to just take the shot and hope but she kept hearing her fathers whispered voice from her childhood,

Patience is its own reward Mel. And besides, if you where that deer wouldn't you prefer a clean death?

Sure enough after what seemed like an eternity the deer moved into position and with a quick, fluid motion she drew back the string on her shortbow, aimed and fired. The animal jerked sharply when the arrow pierced it's heart, then fell in a heap where it had stood. With a large grin she hopped lightly to the ground to inspect her handywork and begin the work of cleaning and preparing the meat.

......

Why did I even come here? Melody thinks to herself as she sinks even farther down into her chair. She had gotten a table in the darkest corner of the inn, but even that didn't make her feel any more comfortable.

Still she had tried to make the best of the invitation that the villagers had offered her after she had come into town to sell her der that day. Msot of the people had been very surprised when she had haltingly accepted to come into the village tonight and see the Bard that was passing through, and early on some of the young men had even tried to start a conversation with her, but she couldn't bring herself to talk to them no matter how hard she tried. She could face down any animal in the forest, but people terrified her in ways she couldn't describe.

Just stay a few more minutes Mel, let them know you're not rude.

Melody truly did enjoy the show, but was very thankful when it finally ended. As everyone started for the door Melony knew it would be a great time to sneek out of town and back to her camp in the woods. She reached around her chair to get her things when a voice nearly made her jump from her seat.

Hello! Wonderful night isn't it? Um, I'm sorry, but could you tell me your name? In fact, who are you in general? The bard asked as he took a chair next to her and tipped it's back against the wall.

Mel's eyes grew large as she considered the man sitting before her. She was sure he was a kind enough fellow, and there was nothing sinister in his intentions. Still she couldn't stop the customary lump from forming in her throat that always came when someone spoke to her.

M...M...Melody. She finally managed to force out as she quickly looked down at the floor. I'm.... I"m... Glancing back up at the man smiling from his seat across from her, she couldn't stand the attention anymore. Bolting from her seat she begain to make a bee line for the door, not able to even look back.

[Rogue77]

Name:Trey Bourden of Ilian
Race: Human
Class:Magus

 

Character Background Trey has a somewhat unique childhood. His mother died shortly after giving birth to him. She was said to be very beautiful and possess great magical powers. Being a priestess at the Temple of the Dawnflower and a worshipper of the goddess Sarenrae, she was known for being gracious and kind, having a comforting demeanor and offering unmatched healing powers. The priestess was loved by all and sorely missed by her untimely demise. The entire kingdom of Ilian, in remembrance of her, set aside an hour out of the day, at dawn, to remember her and her kind deeds on the day of her funeral. Bram, Trey’s father, was much despaired at his wife’s passing. He was well-known in Ilian as well. A former soldier in the Ilian army, he knew the value of a good weapon and the importance of a warrior’s attire. He conceded retirement from the military, after much resistance, and in the end, decided that the best way to serve the military was in the form of a blacksmith. The island kingdom of Ilian had a great military and a talented blacksmith was of utmost importance and highly desired by the empire. From a very early age, Trey began helping his father with various blacksmithing duties and also became active at the Temple of the Dawnflower. His dad did his best to teach Trey about the goddess, and relate how his mother loved and respected her. Trey learned to love the goddess and he prayed to her daily. When he became an adult, at the age of 16, he had developed into a knowledgeable blacksmith. He became familiar with different types of weapons and eventually fell in love with the agility and power of the goddess’ favorite weapon, the scimitar. He practiced almost daily, as the warrior in his kingdom is prized as well as the magic wielder. Before long, Trey became very skilled with the weapon and prided himself on his martial prowess. He also became more involved at the Temple and was sent through a rite of passage, the “Priest’s way”. This rite would determine where his magical strengths lay, be it healing, soothing, protection or another form of the divine. To the surprise of the temple clergy and everyone else that knew the family for that matter, his power seemed to emanate from the arcane and not the divine? Not only that, but the arcane power Trey held within was very raw and powerful, like an untapped resource with untapped potential. Arcane energies was not looked down upon, in fact, some of the most respected individuals in the entire kingdom were the Arch Magi of the Ilian. The thing that surprised the clergymen was the fact that Trey’s mother was such a great and powerful priestess and that everyone figured that her divine powers would be passed down to her son. After much deliberation, the clergymen decided that Trey should be enrolled and become a part of the Arcane University. Here he would be able to understand his powers better and perhaps realize why he had been blessed with arcane energies instead of divine. Not sure how to handle this, Trey, feeling embarrassed and ashamed, sought out the goddess in avid prayer. He wanted to know why, when all he had ever desired was to worship her and become a divine warrior or priest in her name, was he given arcane powers instead of divine. Was he not worthy? Had he wronged the goddess without knowing? Was this a curse or a blessing? He had a good heart, he knew that, but come to think of it, he never really produced even a minor trickle of divine power to coarse through him like the others his age. He knew the goddess heard his prayers, through circumstances molded in the world around him, always seeming to gain favor in certain situations, so after contemplating this he decided that the goddess knew what was best for him and he must trust her. Trey didn’t get his answer immediately, but felt that the goddess was telling him that she had a special purpose for him and that he must be patient for it to present itself. After a few days and much to his disappointment, he decided to go ahead and attend the Arcane University. His progress was slow, mostly due to the fact that he wasn’t very enthusiastic about it, but soon his overseer's and fellow students were raving about his immense raw power. However, he was wasting alot of the built up energies surrounding him and he just needed to learn how to focus this power, harness and command it. Over the period of the next few years, Trey grew in command of his power and the overseer's agreed that he was ready to move into the next phase of his development, specific class specialization. There are many types of arcane wielders produced at the University, from battle-mages to defense mages to the very elite Arch Magi. Being a respectable warrior, especially with the scimitar, Trey was best perceived to be a Magus. A Magus is trained in arcane implementation, but also has the ability to wield a weapon and even wear protective armor. Over time, the overseer explained, Trey would develop great reserves of power that he could use to enhance his weapon, strengthen people around him and even fly. So, after a few years of rigorous training, and being a great student, Trey developed into a Magus. Before he graduated, the empire was attacked on the fringes of its boundaries. A set of small islands that held a greatly desired and highly sought after spice, named Nicoleiam. The attack came from a hostile group of Minotaur’s, together with a vast number of other evil humanoids seeking to control the newly discovered spice. Ilian retaliated by sending its navy and other military companies to repel and vanquish this enemy. All able bodied men and military personnel were called upon, and this included those whose occupation would benefit the military. Bram, being an expert blacksmith, was a must on this venture and constructed his blacksmith quarters in one of the larger companies on one of the islands. Not so long after, that company was attacked, but not from the traditional stance, rather from behind and caught off guard. The attack was devastating to the company because there was little support presented from the main army. A small military guard force, together with Bram and other professionals, was forced to fend off the waves of invaders until help arrived. Sadly, help arrived too late, and although Bram and the others fought bravely, they were extremely outnumbered and massacred. Hearing the dreadful news, Trey, after losing both his mother and father, decided that it was time to move on and explore the world. Maybe then he could fully understand life and its meaning. Although he loved his country, he decided that he would set off with the next merchant vessel and begin a new life of exploring what the world had to offer. He concluded that everyone has only a short time in their lives and no one knows when that time is. If he could seek after things he desires maybe he would fill that his life had been worthwhile. So he says his farewells and sets off into the world, determined to discover things of renown, remembering what the goddess spoke to him, “Be patient and your destiny will present itself”.

 

Character Traits Trey acquired his first trait by being faithful to his goddess. She heard his prayers and blessed him with an extraordinary trait that would enhance the bite of his weapon when he was supremely focused. The Flame of the Dawnflower was a natural trait received by being a devoted follower. This trait allowed Trey to view himself as a blade in Sarenrae's service. Whenever a critical hit is scored with his scimitar, an additional 2 points of fire damage is dealt to the target, demonstrating the goddess' wrath on the unworthy. The next trait was acquired when Trey decided to head off into the world and discover more about his magical abilities and powers. This is one reason he found himself in the village of Brandon's Bridge. Trey desired to explore some interesting ruins and history of the area. Once discovered he planned on seeking magical tomes and texts in an attempt to discover their secrets, and thus, possibly increasing in power. The trait Lore Seeker supplies him with a boost in arcane knowledge of the essence of magic itself. His desire to discover magical tomes and texts has allowed him to naturally have a higher understanding of things relating to the arcane. Trey had studied magic intensely while attending the University, and hoped to increase that knowledge by adding the mysteries of ancient lore, said to be the most pure and powerful form of magic. He arrived in the region to pursue that study, and chose Brandon's Bridge as a base, for the time being, because it was out of the way of larger and more populated cities—meaning less competition to study the ancient monuments in the region. Trey gain's a +1 trait bonus on Knowledge (arcana) checks. He may also choose three spells on his spell list. Particularly adept at casting these spells, they function at +1 caster level when he cast them, and their save DCs (if any) gain a +1 bonus.

 

Lore Seeking in the area... As said in the above information, Trey decided to find a quiet place, away from bustling cities, with some mystical history in the region to enhance his arcane knowledge. His intent was to quietly explore and study things he found from these mystical places. He was doing well at first, but this latest distraction of thieves and bandits running wild in the area has warranted attention. After making a few friends in the area and enjoying the relative peace around the village, Trey vowed to help put an end to these vagabonds and would join any person's that are for the cause. Besides, the quicker the threat to the area is neutralized the quicker he can get on with his exploration. Who knows, he may even become a wiser and more powerful wielder of his magic and martial abilities.

 

Character Personality Trey is of average height and build. He has long black hair and black eyes. He is friendly but quiet. Preferring to listen and access things before responding. Not a flashy person, he keeps things hidden from sight, like weapons, items and other things that might draw attention to himself. Dark colored armor and clothing is his preference and always wears a cloak. Years of training has made him a reader of books, texts and most of all his religious book called the "Birth of Light and Truth". This is the main focal point of his relationship with his goddess and very important to him. His spell-book is his passion and discovering any information on arcane subjects is his desires in life. He can become angry, but being faithful to his deity, he is very patient before becoming riled. He is generally a generous man, a gentleman and a man of his word. He enjoys being a good tipper and looking out for women he is around. He prefers walking to riding and loves looking up at the heavens wondering how things came to be the way they are. He often sits under a tree reading his religious tome, or some other text and enjoys nature. When it comes to fighting, he is very ferocious, but he will access each situation and determine the best actions before committing himself to them. Once committed he will succeed in his course. It takes awhile for him to become riled, but once he does he will see his actions through.

 

Character Examples ........example 1..... Trey was becoming annoyed at the Half-Orcs filthy mouth and made sudden gestures toward his scimitar upon the brute approaching his table at the tavern. The Orc half-breed had a boisterous mouth and was full of ale. Stumbling toward Trey's table he slammed his fists down and declared "Watt you lookin' at u simple minded fhool!" The jolt from his fists jarred the wooden table and spilt Trey's mead in the process. With the half-orc's face barely a foot away and his drunken breath emanating from his gullet, Trey simply responded, "I'm actually looking at on oversized brute who needs some manners taught to him" "Aarrrghhh!!!", exclaimed the Orc ....battle ensues.... ......example 2...... The young man gracefully strode across the busy street, his long black hair flowing gently behind him as he walked. Dressed mostly in black, except for the blood red sash around his waist, he seemingly was one with the chaos about him. People jostling to and fro, various carts and horse drawn wagons wheeling past, the man never broke stride. His every step and motion having a specific purpose, he made his way to the other side. With his cape flapping behind him, the barely visible glint of the hilt of a sword became known. Everything about the man, the way he walked, the way he carried himself, the way he calculated his every movement, screamed danger. "You sure this is the man we're after", asked the hired assassin. "What's the matter Shawn, you think he's too much for us?", Courtney said with a sarcastic tone. "I've seen his kind before", Shawn stated, keeping a watchful eye on the target as he continued down the walkway. "You just don't take that demeanor for granted". "He's dangerous alright", Courtney said matter-of-factly, "I suppose that's why they hired a witch annddd an assassin", she put emphasis on the word and. Shawn just gave her a hard stare. Now I know why, he thought. Trey caught a glimpse of the two as he crossed the street. Just two that don't quite fit in, he thought, as he was walking by. He made a mental note of their location and determined ahead of time that he would lead them straight into an alley up ahead. He already had the words of his vanish spell on the tip of his tongue and he couldn't wait to see their confusion as they turned into the alley, only to see nothing. That's when he would strike, he thought. A quick two handed strike with his his scimitar on the witch and immediately releasing a bone shuddering jolt from shocking grasp on the assassin. They'll learn that it'll take more than two to take me down. That's for sure.

[zevonian]

Originally Posted by zevonian

Name: Cto Lok. (Pronounced Cue-Toe Lock)
Race: Half-Orc
Class: Ranger (Two Handed Weapon Style, as per APG p124)

 

Cto was born somewhere far away in a land of ice and snow to a tribe of outcasts and outlaws. Humans and orcs and other assorted races were in the mix in regards to composition of the group. One year the shaman amongst them said the coming winter would be harsher than the norm, the spirits would be coming for souls.

Half the tribe chose to attack the nearest so called civilized outpost, thinking they could feed the spirits with the blood of those not amongst the family.

The other half chose to leave the land, thinking that the spirits were tied to the area, and would not follow.

Cto was not quite up to of the age of manhood when his parents chose to be part of the group that set out for elsewhere.

Death followed them. Storms. Disease. Bandits. These were the forms that Death took. By the time he reached snowless land, only a handful of his tribemates survived the trek. His parents were not amongst the living by journey's end.

When the last woman and child were buried, the oldest survivor decreed they should seperate, each travel a different direction. Death could not follow all of them at once, so it was said. Cto agreed, not that anything good would happen with disagreement. He took what was not put under ground with his folks and headed south by southwest, far from his northern home.

One day, he spotted an unusual creature. Mooselike, but thinner. He had a spear ready to throw when -shhhthunk- an arrow pierced its neck. "Deer's mine...what...whoever you are." Conversation followed. The hunter was fearless, unnerved by Cto's size and visage, and went by the name of Edgral.

Edgral thought that a big man on his side of anything would be better than a big orc being on the bad side of anyone he knew, so Edgral offered to teach the orc blood how to hunt better, in exchange for leaning and following the rules of the road, and half the laws of the land. Cto Lok agreed, not that disagreement would lead to anything good.

Some time later, months...years perhaps, a friend of a friend of Edgral had gotten word to Cto that in the town of Brandon's Bridge, some people needed help dealing with bandits. Death comes for more souls... A second of thought. A minute of gathering things from the cave he called home. Lok allowed the messenger to lead the way to the small town.

 

Cto Lok knows most folk in this area won't deal with him due to the sight of him. Bigger than most anyone he's met, uglier and stronger too. Tusks, pelts, axes, they all added to his unpleasant appearence. He'd like to be a friendly sort, if anything he misses the bonds of family and tribal folk, but he doesn't think this will ever happen in this land. So it's hunt, hunt more....hunt bandits perhaps...and one day when the spirits speak up to do so, he'll either go farther south, or he'll go back to his childhood home.

RP Samples:
Combative Debate

[sertaki]

Name: Raylan Astarni
Race: Human
Class: Paladin (for now)
Character Sheet

 

Hit Points	Max HP
11	11

Armor Class	Touch	Flat-Footed
18	12	16

Fortitude Save	+4	Initiative bonus	+2
Reflex Save	+3	Combat Maneuvers Bonus	+4
Will Save	+4	Combat Maneuvers Defense	16

Spell Resistance

0

Trained Skills	Ranks	Bonus
Bluff	0	+5
Diplomacy	1	+9
Spellcraft	1	+4

* Check Penalty

-3

Weapon	Attack	Damage	Critical	Range	Special
Quarterstaff	+4	1d6+4	x2	-	-
Astarni Cleaver (mwk Katana)	+5	1d8+4	18-20	-	deadly
Astarni Cleaver (mwk Katana) - nonlethal	+3	1d8+4	18-20	-	deadly
Shortbow	+3	1d6	x3	60 ft.	-
Sap	+4	1d6+3	x2	-	nonlethal

Feats	Description
Power Attack	Raylan can take a –1 penalty on all melee attack rolls and combat maneuver checks to gain a +2 bonus on all melee damage rolls. This bonus to damage is increased by half (+50%) if making an attack with a two-handed weapon.

Abilities	Description
Silver Tongued	Raylan gains a +2 bonus to Bluff and Diplomacy skill checks. He can also shift a creatures attitude by 3 steps instead of 2.
Aura of Good	Raylan emanates an aura of good. It's power is equal to his Paladin level.
Detect Evil	Raylan can use detect evil at will, concentrating as a move action on one creature in 60 ft. He learns if the creature is evil and the strength of it's aura, as if he studied it for 3 rounds.
Smite Evil	Raylan can attempt to smite evil once per day. If the target is evil, he adds his Charisma bonus to attack rolls and AC and his Paladin level to damage rolls against the target. Link to exact rules

Traits	Description
Weapon of Peace	Raylan only takes a -2 malus on attack rolls to deal nonlethal damage with weapons not designed for this use.
Birthmark	Raylan gains a +2 bonus to saves against charm and compulsion effects. Also his body is considered a divine focus for his spells.
Magical Knack	Raylan's Sorcerer caster level is treated as if he were 2 levels higher, up to his character level.

Background Raylan Astarni was born into a family of proud scholars and mages, well known in the lands for producing a formidable number of wizards throughout the ages who served as diviners and advisors for lords and kings, mighty warmages who destroyed whole armies and even the ocassional insane overlord that had to be hunted down by brave adventurers. The boy was supposed to follow in the footsteps of his father Gardas - military advisor and artillery commander of Lord Bastan as well as a deadly force on the battlefield - a man for whom the study of the arcane and obscure was like breathing. Indeed, Raylans birth was seen as a good omen and sign of greatness to come for the familiy's name, as the mark of Nethys was found on the infants right hand. The birthmark was seen as a proof that the boy was favored by the god of magic himself to excel at the magical arts. His father didn't waste time to proclaim the event publicaly, forcing his son down a path of unfulfillable expectations and disappointment. Raylan never had the skills neccesary to understand the complex intricacies and strange concepts behind arcane forcefields, laylines and other sources of power that were to be tapped for one to become a successful wizard. He was not stupid, and was able to learn much during his studies, but he never satisfied his father's hopes of an archwizard heir. While he was a failure in this field, he was always interested in the stories of brave heroes thwarting dangers and dangerous foes - slaying dragons and demons to rescue the innocent and carve a place for themselves in the stories of tommorow. He was also physically adept and pracitced at swordsplay and other forms of fighting from a young age - something he was expected to do anyway as the son of a high ranking officer in the army. His love for adventure stories and tales of shining knights combined with pure talent and natural predisposition led him to the path of paladin at a young age, when he witnessed one such man battling a ferocious drake. It was 6 years ago, during an especially hot summer - his father was away in matters of state, while he was spending time with his mother and sisters at one of their summer residences. The drake in question was half starved and mad from hunger and thirst when it attacked the nearby village of Svalta, in hope of taking some cattle or villager back to its lair. Sir Lothar Highfor, a knight and paladin of Iomedae was present at that time by chance and risked his life for the defense of the unsuspecting villagers - losing his swordarm in the process - which Raylan witnessed himself from the balcony of their estate. This act of courage and selflessness impressed the young boy so deeply, that from this day he was absorbed by the wish to one day become a paladin himself. He had to hide his intentions from his father though, as picking up arms and wading into battle on the frontline was seen as a quite barbaric act unbefitting of his blood and lineage. At least in Deval, the veteran elven swordmaster who was his instructor in hand-to-hand battle, he found understanding and approval. His father never suspected the cause of Raylans eagerness for those sessions and the increasing time he invested in practice during the few free hours he had - time he should have used to catch up witch his other teachings in the eyes of the old wizard. Whe he turned 17, he finaly was able to gather the courage to tell his father in the face what he really wanted to do, expecting a furious outbreak of anger and quite possibly harsh punishment. But his father only nodded absently and left the room in a slow walk, muttering something under his nose - they didn't speak again for several days. When Gardas finaly turned up during one of the boy's training sessions, he brought with him a set armor and the family's sword - a heirloom from centuries ago, when one of his ancestors - Harlad the brave - conquered an enemy kingdom almost single-handedly in the name of his king using both, swordplay and magic to devastating effect. "Take these and follow your path", he said with a heavy sigh and tears welling up in his eyes. "I have suspected for a long time that your talents don't lie where i would like them to be, but i wished for you to continue my legacy, as i did my father's." Raylan was shocked to hear those words from his father's mouth, as he knew him a hard man with great goals who never backed away from something he wanted. Even his teacher Deval gasped and looked as if he saw an owlbear wearing a kilt - after all he had served the man for a great portion of his life. "The mark of Nethys was maybe nothing but chance." he continues - "In truth you should have been born with a sword on your hand, but it seems you were born with in your heart instead, my son." With these words he lay the weapon and armor at the boys feet and embraced him heartily. "Find your own way, be it what is shall be, i believe in you.", his voice was shivering in a whisper while the long white beard tickled on Raylans bare chest. "Bring justice and follow your heart. You will always be welcome here." After he took farewell from his family and his closest friend Deval, Raylan trained in different paladin orders, but never taking vows to join any of them, as he felt it to be too restrictive - he was not willing to part from his lifelong trust in Nethys, the lord of magic and all that is and can be. He even tried once to further his studies in a rather militant church of his god, but was frowned upon due to his inability in the arts - doubly so when those were paired with the rare birthmark, something seen as a bad omen by these priests and mages. In the time since he left his home, Raylan was able to battle many a foe and save the ocassional wanderer from a bandit, but since he never joined an organised order officialy, he was living the life of a wanderer, doing good and helping those he met by chance. The military structure of such orders reminded him too much of his father and his not quite happy childhood as a failed apprentice. He took his father's farewell words to his heart: "Follow your hear." - and his heart told him to go his own way. Nevertheless, he always wondered, if becoming a true wizard had been possible if he had just studied harded ...

Why is he here? Raylan is wandering the land in search of innocents that need protection and evildoers to be punished. He heard rumors of bandit attacks by chance and decided to follow those back to the source. He doesn't know anybody in the village but might have come upon an attacked wanderer on his way (maybe even chasing off a bandit or two)

Personality Raylan is an easygoing young man, slightly naive and inexperienced, but with a strong morale codex. His main goal is to protect innocents - and he will strike down anyone who endangers the common folk, preferably while avoiding unneccesarry killings. He believes everybondy can change for the better and tries to lead by his example (his own ideal of a just person). His believe in this is very strong, since it grew from his father choice to let him go willingly - something the same man wouldn't have been capable of 10 years prior. Petty thievery doesn't concern him much, he sees it as a matter better left for the guard - for he is destined to thwart greater evil. "Chaotic" acts tend to be ignored by him, as he himself is a believer of freedom and doesn't care too much for local laws - as these tend to change drastically wherever he goes. For instance: he would not turn in a man who stole some food out of hunger - and he would not immediatly turn in a thief if that would cost the man his hand - even if he stole a big amount. He would rather try to make him see the wrong in his ways and change before going to such drastic measures. He has quite a temper though and is more arrogant than he would like to think of himself - something to be expected of a man who grew up with the sure knowledge to be from one of the grandest families and who was told he has inherited intelect beyond measure. While he tries to live a non-violent life, he can be roused to rudeness and even brawling by anyone who tries hard enough - afterwards he often swears it will never happen again.

Appearance Raylan is a slender young man, quite attractive and most often a good mood is showing on his face. He has blonde hair, which he wears short - except for a braid reaching down to his shoulders - a style quite fashionable in his homeland at the time of his departure. His clothes tend to look out of place in the countryside where he is often traveling, since he is wearing a breastplate adorned with filligrant carvings reminiscent of the elven style when geared for battle, with fitting heavy boots, while his remaining clothes seem equally out of place for a simple warrior and reminiscent of nobleman gear. When in his day-to-day outfit, he is as well wearing expensive fabrics and clothes, often adorned with the symbol of his family - a six-spoked wheel (a symbol of perfection and strength) and variants thereof. Raylan wears his sword Darkfire openly and with pride - as it is a valued heirloom. A maserfully crafted blade, sharpened on one side to perfection while still allowing for deadly stabs - he had to invest additional training to fully master its capabilities

Traits and Development He will take Additional traits at first level, to better show some of his specifics Weapon of Peace - Raylan trained himself to subdue opponents without killing them, even with lethal weapons (only -2 atk penalty for nonlethal damage) Birthmark - The mark of Nethys aquired at birth, a sign of a possible future Magical Knack - He has an innate magical talent for sorcery that just hasn't been tapped yet. When he finaly discovers the power surging through his blood, it will come at a greater might to him Rich Parents - Backing the story up with the masterwork gear he got from his father   Raylan will multiclass into Sorcerer as he unlocks the latent arcane energies in his blood. He had no talent for the complicated studies of wizardy, but the power bestowed upon him by centuries of arcane research by his kin slumber inside his body - only waiting to be released. The mark of Nethys told of this, it was just that nobody listened.

RP-Example Not much i can show here, i didn't get to much pbp yet, so enjoy the little i have to offer After patrolling the surrounding forest for a few hours, a „job“ he was already doing for some weeks, Valan made rest at the forest border. Since the weather was clear and still warm, he saw no need for a fire and just searched for a tree with lots of grass and moss below it. He set his staff and backback aside and sat down with his back leaning against the old bark. Not far behind him a big dog was following in his track slowly, sometimes stopping to listen for a small animal that decided it was wise to flee from the potential predator. From the distance it could have been mistaken for a wolf searching cattle to feed on, but this dog was not of the kind to hunt game bigger than itself. Hares and other small animals were enough of a battle for him. Shortly after Valan sat down the dog ley beside him, poking the man in the side until he finaly started to run his fingers through the animal's grey-brown fur. When the dog seemed satisfied, Valan took some beef jerky out of his backback and threw it on the ground beside the dog while getting some old bread and freshly gathered berries for himself. The dog threw itself on the meat swiftly, while Valan muttered more to himself „easy boy, you don't want to get fat, no?“, at the same time searching for some water to make the rest perfect. With his furry friend's head on his lap and the sun shining through the leaves on his face, Valan fall asleep for a short time. His sleep was short since his dog's barking woke him up when someone was approaching. „Shh Gordis, don't make a ruckus“ Valan muttered while swiftly standing up and looking towards the direction of his visitor. When Podrick emerged from between the bushes, Valan greeted him formaly, and after listening to the man's complains about his habit of camping in the wild, he accepted his new orders, assembled his stuff and went straight towards the keep. Podrick accompanied him a little while but went his own way shortly. He wished the man a good day and wondered what company he has to endure in the near future, after all there were some strange folk roaming the keep. At the destined building he was stopped by some rude man, who reminded him once again the dog was to be left outside, which apparently didn't please Gordis. But he listened to Valan and sat himself to the left of the building's door, watching all the young recruits practicing in the yard, while hoping go get some food from anyone who passed by. -- As he enters the room, Valan is surprised by the unexpected pair sitting on the bench there. „Well, i suppose you two were summoned here on behalf of the Major as well?“ he asks with a smile after a moment of consideration. „My name is Valan and i'm pleased to meet you in that case.“ He nods his head slightly, then walks towards the bench, leaning his staff against the wall on its side and sitting down. „Of course i'm pleased to meet you even if you were not summoned for the same cause as myself.“ he adds after considering his words again. Noticing the strong tabaco smell coming from his neighbour he moves a little to the side and starts to watch the door in anticipation of additional unit members. Hope Gordis doesn't scare anyone that walks by with food in hands – he could eat all day and cost me my last gold piece – well silver piece rather. At this thought a slightly stupid looking smile appears on Valan's face and he lets out a rather loud sigh.

[JasonWFD]

Jorven, Half-Orc Cleric Name: Race: Class: Jorven Half-Orc Cleric of Tulis (Liberation, Strength)

 

Background Jorven was born into an Orc tribe who's name translated to "Bonesplinter" in Common. His father was the leader of the tribe, Ska'luge. His mother was a human woman, taken captive during a successful campaign of pillaging a farming valley. She was blonde, fair-skinned, and delicate, and thus was taken as a trophy by Ska'luge. His mother a concubine and himself a half-breed, Jorven was treated very poorly by the tribe. His father was exceptionally harsh, giving Jorven and his mother frequent abuse. Jorven remembers little, as he likely blocked the worst of the cruelty out of his head. Though he survived his first decade of life, his mother did not, eventually succumbing to her pain and torment. She died in Jorven's arms. Ska'luge noticed Jorven's survival instincts and tenacity, and decided to have him apprentice under the tribe's Shaman. This way, either Jorven would learn to help the tribe and be useful, as he wasn't as brutishly strong as the full-blooded boys of the tribe, or he would fail and be discarded as an expendable asset. Jorven despised his father and the tribe, and he knew the Shaman's teachings were brutal and trying, but he had no other options as trying to escape from the tribe meant death. For a few months, Jorven became the Shaman's apprentice, and he found very little success. Then slavers came. Instead of killing his weakling half-breed worthless son, Ska'luge simply traded him for some gold and resources for the tribe. Jorven was sold into slavery without so much as a warning and a goodbye. In a way, this was a blessing. The slavers, while uncaring and harsh, were comparatively better captors than the Bonesplinter ever were. Jorven spent the next half-dozen years in servitude, doing thankless manual labor and enduring more hardship. This time, instead of experiencing bigotry because of his Human heritage, it was from his Orc heritage. At first it was strange, but he quickly found out that the end result was the same. Another sudden and unexpected change would completely turn Jorven's world around. One day, his owner brought him and a group of other slaves to an auction. During the auction, the slavers were ambushed and overrun by freedom-fighters. Jorven was in chains and confused, and during most of the fight he stood in awe as if he was paralyzed. Could this be a real attempt at freedom? He watched has a group of humans, an elf, and a halfling used spell and blade to drive out the slavers. After the battle, the warriors approached the slaves, removed them of their bonds, and proclaimed them free. The group was led by Geoffry Nightstream, a cleric of Tulis, the goddess of martyrdom and freedom from oppression. Geoffry explained that his faith believed in protecting and freeing people who would be exploited and abused by those in power. He had caught wind of this slave auction ahead of time and decided to do something about it. He gathered some local allies, hired some travelling adventurers, and formulated a plan in an attempt to take down the slavers and free those enslaved. Jorven was taken aback, as this sort of selfless bravery was unlike anything he had known in his whole life. Geoffry and the others didn't seem to care that he was a Half-Orc, and they only wanted to give him a chance to live his life the way he wanted. Jorven had flashbacks of his mother, telling him stories of brave knights and benevolent spellcasters aiding the common people and fighting against evil. He felt a strong desire to use his newly acquired freedom to follow Geoffry and learn more about the church of Tulis. Geoffry saw the potential in Jorven and offered to train him personally. Jorven spent years learning the ways of the faith, and about living as a free man in a civilized world. Through hard work and dedication, he developed his own divine connection to Tulis, and found the ability to channel her energy. Jorven learned how to fight, using sword and armor as well as the magic gifted to him by his new-found faith. His past gave him a keen understanding of the suffering of others, and he became determined to help those that he could. Geoffry would often comment about how Jorven remind him of himself when he was younger. The time finally came for Jorven to venture off into the world on his own. Geoffry's teachings had come to an end, and Jorven was eager to lend his aid to those in need. He knew that this was the best way for him to strengthen himself as well as bring protection and freedom to those who needed it in the name of Tulis. One day, he hoped, he might be strong enough to assault slavers and the like, freeing people from captivity as Geoffry had once done for him. His first stop was a place called "Brandon's Bridge". Jorven heard rumors of bandits terrorizing the local area. Likely, the populace was suffering from the bandits and they were looking for help. There were probably others like him who wanted to see justice done and safety brought back to the town. It seemed like the opportunity to test his mettle that he was looking for.

 

Personality Jorven appears on the outside to be stoic and reserved. He is kind and polite to everyone he meets, though he may not always be as eloquent or articulate as others. Jorven does not fuss much with his appearance but has been taught how to at least make himself presentable in public. When he is in battle, Jorven's face and mannerisms reveal a strong determination and will, with at times traces of anger and fury buried deep within. His outer shell hides an empathy for others, the foundation of which born from his life of torment and then built upon by the teachings of Tulis. He despises those who would enslave, abuse, and exploit others, and compared to his normal demeanor he has a difficult time hiding his distaste towards those individuals. He strives to strengthen himself so that he can give back to others and help people in the way that his teacher Geoffry saved him from slavery. He secretly hopes to someday be strong enough to hunt down his father, Ska'luge, and seek revenge for a childhood of misery and torment. While he tries very hard to treat everyone equally and fairly, he still has a slight bias towards full-blooded Orcs. This disappoints him, and he tries to subdue it to the best of his ability.

 

RP Sample Niles finds his resolve against the darkness.

[austarrowsplitter]

Name: Therkas Glanli the Beardless
Race: Dwarf

Class: Fighter (Foehammer)

Background: Therkas' clan is disgraced among the dwarves. Many years ago, Torag had performed a miracle, granting the dwarves a magic diamond that would allow them to see their enemies coming, and plan their defenses perfectly. Therkas' great great grandfather, for unknown reasons, stole the diamond and sold it to the orcs and giants so they could destroy it. From then on, the men of Therkas' clan were forced to shave their beards, and all of them are forced to keep their hair short, so that all may see their shame. So great was his crime that it is now forbidden to speak their true clan name, and they are now known as Clan Glanli, which means Lost Pride in the dwarven tongue. Therkas, determined to restore his family name by doing something so great as to wipe away his dirty rotten diamond stealing great great grandfather's crime. He's wandered the world ever since he was old enough to leave home, and when he heard the call for adventurers go out from Brandon's Bridge, he knew that he would start his career as an adventuring hero there.

Personality: Therkas is a very humble dwarf. All his life, he's been dumped on because of something his ancestor did. As such, he's learned to grin and bear whatever taunts, insults, or rude behavior gets thrown his way... and bottle it up, and take it out on anything that gets in front of his hammer. Those who've fought alongside him tend to stand back a bit, as he charges into the fray with a stream of epithets, his massive hammer quickly turning foes into a gory pulp. When he does speak, he tends to be somewhat quiet and reserved, not wanting to overstep his rather low social station, and he very clearly doesn't have much practice in the niceties of polite society. He wants to help the people of Brandon's Bridge mostly as a way to begin to make a name for himself. He does sympathize with them, and it makes him sad that such troubles have befallen such a small town. But, at the end of the day, his main priority is reclaiming his family's long-lost honor. Beyond that, he's your average, everyday Lawful Good Dwarven Fighter. A good day for him would be to come back to a warm tavern with a big plate of hot food and a mug of cold ale after a hard day of guarding a dwarven fortress.

RP sample: Magnum makes much alliteration. Oaen makes a life-altering decision... that ends up not actually changing anything.