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  #121  
Old 09-28-2020, 05:14 PM
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Still super excited to try and roleplay a local goblin, please consider Ovaas.
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  #122  
Old 09-28-2020, 06:30 PM
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Originally Posted by penbeast0 View Post
APPLICATION SUBMITTED FOR REVIEW

SMALL
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Name: Small (Kosj)
Race: Lizardman
 


"I am Small. I was smaller than those of my tribe. I only survived because my tribe was big and could take enough food so they did not have to eat me. Though they would if food were scarce. That is the way of things.

Bigger than my tribe were the monsters of the swamp. Chult is a land of bigness and the monsters of the swamps were the biggest to my tribe. The hornface with its three terrible horns growing from a plate of bone that could smash through the strongest skin. The snakenecks, heavier than even the biggest of monsters, able to crush the biggest of my tribe with a careless step. And, the biggest of all, from whose bellow all ran in fear, the greatjaws with its monstrous mouth dwarfing its tiny arms. Tooth and fang incarnate.

But there was one place even the greatjaws did not go. Deep in the swamp was a big temple, overgrown with all manner of strangling vines and carnivorous plants. From it came the bellow of deep beating drums and it sent forth from its bigness emissaries that carried fear throughout the swamp and beyond.

And from beyond the swamp came to its environs creature who seemed small, softskinned, and weak. And the emissaries of the big temple sent my tribe forth against these creatures to eat them but they were not eaten. Some of the softskins put on shells of metal and picked up sharp pieces of the same and they killed those of my tribe who came against them. Others stayed soft with sticks of wood but they opened their mouths, tiny mouths with teeth that could not even harm me, the smallest. And from their mouths came god words, words of fire and flashing light, words that caused clouds of sharp metal teeth to appear in the air and all of my tribe were smashed and burned and cut until they lay small and still.

I did not die because I did not challenge them, being small. They took me back to their place, this temple, to eat later if they grew hungry. And I learned to understand them so that I would not be eaten. And I learned their rules and this thing that was bigger even than the godwords they spoke, the Law. And I listened to their stories and listening, I grew even smaller as they grew even bigger.

For they had gone forth after making my tribe small. And they had met the monsters of the swamp and though the monsters had been very big, the softskins were bigger still. The hornface with its horns that could pierce the strongest skin was smashed and stabbed and slashed and burned until it pierced no more. And the softskins ate it. The snakenecks in their immensity heard godwords that made them afraid and they fled deeper into the swamps. Even the greatjaws had bellowed doom at them, and they had bellowed back the words of fire and light and steel and made it small. And so, the softskins were bigger than the monsters of the swamp.

Then the softskins found their way to the big temple with its strangling vines and carnivorous plants all around it. And they entered the temple and faced those within. And those within had godwords of their own and the air was rent with bellowing and power. But the softskins were bigger and their bigness was such that they burst the very stones asunder and brought the temple crashing down in ruins.

And so I remain Small. Those of the temple are big, their god words are bigger but I am not eaten. Because bigger even than the godwords is the Law. If I follow the law, it protects me. If I disobey it, I will be killed. And so, following the law, I become bigger. I learn the godwords and they change me and make me bigger. My bellow causes light and fire. But I do not eat those smaller than I am because the law says I cannot eat those who speak and the law is bigger. And I search for more godwords and grow bigger. Someday I will be so big that no one can eat me and then I will no longer be Small. This I vow. "




Last edited by penbeast0; 10-02-2020 at 11:58 AM.
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  #123  
Old 09-29-2020, 01:26 PM
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I'll drop an application

Application
Name: Jhessail
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Class: Barbarian (Zealot)
Race: Human (Variant)
Background: I used the customizing background feature to switch Persuasion for DeceptionDishonored Noble

Personality Trait: Despite my noble birth, I do not place myself above other folk. We all have the same blood & My favor, once lost, is lost forever.
Ideal: Power. If I can attain more power, no one will tell me what to do.
Bond: My honor is my life.
Flaw: By my words and actions, I often bring shame to my family.

Personality: Jhessail is a dichotomy of rage held back by a veneer of control. While her past life of nobility is dead to her, the lessons taught in those days still hold. While she can be polite, Jhessail find manipulation and fear more useful to interact with strangers. Some part of her still demands respect - although her actions have earned her anything but.

She is loyal to her allies - as long as they share her views of honor - and brutal to her enemies. She keeps quiet about her history and her long-term goals. She prefers to let her actions show her capabilities as a companion and ally.

Appearance: Jhessail has the dark-olive skin of a Vaasan of Mulmaster, but not the black hair. Instead, her hair is a fiery red, a hallmark of the Ondor family lineage. She is extremely tall - reaching towards 6 foot - and powerfully built with green eyes. It used to be said that the Ondor family had the blood of barbarians which gave them their height, strength and red hair - although nobody would dare say that in front of them.

Jhessail has spent quite some time away from civilization and comfort - her skin is toughened, her hands calloused and her face weathered. She prefers to wear medium-armor, and always has a sinister looking greatsword at hand.

 



Last edited by Arachobia; 09-29-2020 at 02:12 PM.
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  #124  
Old 09-30-2020, 07:13 PM
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Eroan would still be happy to be considered.

Sorry, I won't be able to explore Mezro.
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Last edited by Berith; 10-03-2020 at 09:01 PM.
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  #125  
Old 10-01-2020, 09:32 AM
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Felix Dunstarnum
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Name: Felix Dunstarnum
Race: Human
Age: 22
Class: Archfey Warlock
Alignment: Neutral Good
Background: Guild Artisan (Bookbinder)
Personality Traits: A comfortable chair in front of a warm fire, a good book and a small sherry. What more can a man ask for?
Never judge a book by its cover. I should know, I always do my best work no matter the quality of the words on the pages.
Ideal: Respect; treat everyone fairly lest they mistreat you. (Good)
Bond: I just want to fulfil this contract and go home.
Flaws: It was curiosity that got me into this mess. You'd think I would have learned my lesson, wouldn't you?

Appearance: Felix is tall and scrawny with a thick mop of dark hair which he keeps with the minimal possible fuss. He habitually wears dark clothes for their practicality and prioritises comfort over fashion. His complexion can best be described as pallid, which isn't surprising given that he seldom ventured outside, except when making the expedition from his home to his master's shop. In countenance, he is serious and some would say forbidding, although his expression lightens considerably when he is actually interacting with someone, at which point he can get positively friendly.

Personality: By choice Felix always tended to keep to himself, except at the end of the third tenday each month, when he would venture out to visit The Book and Candle, a surprisingly raucous tavern given its name. One of his favourite aspects of his job was access to books, although they were rarely in the shop for long enough for him to read them, but there's just something comforting about being surrounded by them.

He doesn't really like weather; it either bakes him, freezes him, gets him wet or blows him around. Instead he likes to keep nice thick walls between himself and the elements, giving himself an environment he has full control over.

Backstory: Growing up in Waterdeep Felix always wanted to be a wizard but it was determined that he didn't have the aptitude for it, so instead his father got him placed as an apprentice bookbinder under Martson Fost, which suited Felix just fine. He learned the trade quickly and stayed on with Fost after his apprenticeship ended, joining the guild and settling in for a long life of quiet industry. He did feel a pang of jealousy whenever a newly accepted student of magic came in to bind their first spellbook, but for the most part he was content in his life and wanted nothing more than to find an amenable young lady to settle down with.

One morning a wizard and his new apprentice were in the shop awaiting a spellbook and Felix couldn't help but overhear their conversation. They were talking about an invocation that they were going to cast that night, somewhere out beyond the city walls. Curiosity piqued, Felix sneaked out after sunset to the place they had mentioned, hid himself behind some convenient bushes, and waited. The wizard, his apprentice and two assistants arrived after some time and spent several hours setting up their equipment and then chanting their spells. Felix watched, fascinated, from his hiding place, wondering what could be about to happen.

Finally the ceremony culminated in a crescendo of chants from the two mages. The torches flared blue and a wind, smelling slightly of thyme, blew around the circle they had made. Felix leaned forward, eager to see what had happened… everything was still.

"Well," sighed the master wizard, "the fey are fickle. Tonight we have been found wanting, but maybe in the next new moon we will have better luck."

Felix stifled a groan. His joints were aching from the cold and the moisture from the ground had saturated his clothes, and all for nothing? As quietly as he could he backed up, hoping to be long away from here before the summoners had packed up their gear.

"Well well well," said a curiously melodic voice behind him, "what have we here?"

He turned to see a fair maiden, seemingly glowing like the moon. Her large blue eyes bore right through him and she seemed to take delight in what she saw.

"Come," she ordered, holding out her delicate fingers to him.

How could he resist?

The night which followed was wonderful and fantastical and… vague. His memory was just of hazy impressions of striding across the tops of trees, of dancing under a waterfall, tasting food and drink which delighted his senses. There were others, beings nearly as fair of face as the first maiden he had met, laughing and urging him on… and then he woke up at home, confused and alone. One memory stayed with him clearly, the cold blue eyes of the maiden in the woods, watching him. He had wanted to do anything to win her approval, anything, and so she had made him promise… something. He remembered making a solemn vow, but the content of that vow proved elusive.

He stumbled out of his cot and poured himself a large cup of water, drinking it down, then another, and yet another. He threw open the shutters and could see that outside the day was in full swing. He must be late for work! He yanked open his wardrobe, tossed his clothes on the bed and then pulled off his nightrobe… and stopped. There, on a chain around his neck, was a small green crystal shaped like an ivy leaf. Hesitantly he touched it.

"Look kid," said a gruff female voice seemingly out of thin air in front of him, "you wanna talk? Put your clothes on first."

And that was his first introduction to Lilli, his new boss, as she described herself. When he had eventually calmed himself down she explained the situation so that he could understand it. He had signed a contract, apparently, and as part of that contract Lilli had been sent to pass on instructions from the maiden he had met the previous night, who was apparently a minor archfey named Vasenia. The details of the contract were never forthcoming, but Felix found himself unable to disobey whenever Lilli relayed an order, even when she told him to pack a bag and get on the next boat.
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Last edited by Lazer; 10-12-2020 at 04:37 AM.
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  #126  
Old 10-01-2020, 03:46 PM
Hal Hammerhand Hal Hammerhand is offline
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I've got some creative juices flowing and I want to turn the trickle into a waterfall but It would appear that I rolled stats and messed them up badly so I never made a character. Shall I roll new stats or just go with what I have?
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  #127  
Old 10-01-2020, 04:39 PM
Hal Hammerhand Hal Hammerhand is offline
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Withdrawn

Scrum:
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Name: Scrum
Class: Barbarian (Berserker)
Race: Human (Variant)
Alignment: CG
Background: Criminal (Enforcer)
Personality trait 1:
-I blow up at the slightest insult.
Personality trait 2:
-The best way to get me to do something is to tell me that I can't do it.
Ideal:
-Redemption. There’s a spark of good in everyone. (Good)
Bond:
-I’m guilty of a terrible crime. I hope I can redeem myself for it.
Flaw:
-I stutter something terrible when I lie, I hate doing it.

Appearance: Scrum is a poor sod of a man, for sure. He's a gremlin of a creature, standing five foot tall due to the hunch of his left shoulder and his short, half-grown legs and small, turned in feet that don't seem proportionate to his large upper torso and right arm which rivals an Uthgarde barbarian. His neck and head are torqued down so that his chin nearly rests on his chest. His right arm is twisted, stunted and unusable, the digits crinkled into an almost-fist and his wrist and elbow are stuck at tight angles, keeping the useless limb tucked close to his side. Due to this strange disfiguration, he walks with a left-to-right hobble-hop sort of gait. The tousled mess of brown hair atop his head is greasy and has scarcely seen washing except the occasional fall in the water do little to hide the hideous, lop-sided stare that is permanently painted on his face. Since dressing is a difficult task, he tends to stay in the same dirty breeches and simple burlap tunic with the neck hole torn to fit his oddly shaped neck and head and upon his feet are half-worn through leather shoes wrapped in cloth to keep them together. Around his waist is tied a rope and on it a sheathed +1 daggerdagger with a simple wooden handle.

Personality: Despite his terrifying look, Scrum is the happy sort, his grin enough to make a troll cringe. He has/had one fear and that was of his owner, so, in a word, he might be considered fearless or too stupid to be afraid of things that people are normally afraid of. He isn't afraid of anyone, even waving a weapon his way, if they throw an insult at him.

Backstory: Scrum is the unfortunate accident of a parlor whore finding 'True Love'. The little miss found herself with child and the suspected father promised to take her into his abode and take care of her and take care of her, he did. For nine months and nine weeks, she was the happiest woman alive, showered with love and her every desire, lounging daily in warm spas, silk sheet-covered canopy beds, sampling fine wines and pastries fed to her by servants that waited on her hand and foot. But it wasn't to last, As the time came for 'Scrum' to be born. The best midwife in the city attended to the mother's needs, day in and day out but when the little bundle of joy came out, the midwife, thinking she had seen it all, lost her lunch onto the floor. The following shriek, the result of mother's first glimpse of her child, brought the father into the chamber to see what had happened. At the sight of the monstrous creature the midwife held out to him, he snatched up the child by the ankle and with it dangling, he crossed the room, full of fury to grab the mother, cursing every god and demi-god as he dragged both mother and child out into the snowy darkness of the night. To the well, he sent the wife, headfirst with a splash, despite her protests and as he was about to toss the child to the hounds nearby, the cries of the babe had by now called the attention of a passerby. The passerby, sensing something wrong, called out to the dark figure waving the child about the kennel, asking a moment. The poor infant was in some luck because the passerby took pity on the deformed babe and agreed to take him if only the father speak of it or him ever again.

Now, in the hands of Gorram Radisklov, Scrum was better off...but many things were better than being dead. Gorram was a hard man with hard ways, he hadn't taken in the deformed Scrum out of the goodness of his heart, after all. He saw the infant as an asset, deformed simpletons, trained young enough could make the best kind of thugs. As he raised the boy, he didn't teach him normal things you would teach a child, reading or writing, No, he taught the boy how to stab, club, cut, break and follow directions from Gorram alone. As Scrum grew into a teenager, his new way of life, given to him by Gorram went against the boy's soft heart. Any bad things had to be explained away in words that the man-child would understand before tempers flared. At first, Scrum was the muscle babysat by a couple other thugs owned by Gorram on a few shop runs, extortion. To say the least, every shop owner payed the protection money, in fear of the twisted thug revisiting his wrath upon their wares.

Scrum's life went on like this for some time, occasionally escalating to pure wetworks runs, pushing out rival gangs that opposed Gorram. After what would have been his twenty second winter, Scrum was so trusted by his master that he was given a nice shiny knife, a gift for a job well done. He was able to stumble over enough words to thank Gorram before being sent off on his first solo job. The whole way to the shop, Scrum played with the new knife, so pretty with it's shiny blade. As he was wandering through the narrow alley that would take him to the locale, a man's voice called out to him from off to one side, in the darkness. Scrum drew closer to the voice, curiously, calling out for the figure to show itself and the figure came from the shadows.

That night, blood was spilled and Scrum knew he had done wrong, panicking and so far from his Master, who could sort everything out, he did the next best thing that he could think of...Escape. He ran to the docks and hid aboard a ship, eventually falling asleep...unbeknownst on his way to a new world.

Stats: In Red if I don't reroll at all. I'll work with it.

Last edited by Hal Hammerhand; 10-05-2020 at 03:08 PM.
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  #128  
Old 10-01-2020, 08:27 PM
Hal Hammerhand Hal Hammerhand is offline
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I think the application is complete.

I'm okay with foregoing the 500gp, It would make sense if he only had the clothes on his hunch and the dagger from his master.

Last edited by Hal Hammerhand; 10-02-2020 at 08:19 PM.
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  #129  
Old 10-05-2020, 09:36 AM
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Keeping this open for another week. Thanks for the applications so far.
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  #130  
Old 10-05-2020, 01:44 PM
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My app is now complete. Feedback / comments always welcome.
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  #131  
Old 10-05-2020, 03:08 PM
Hal Hammerhand Hal Hammerhand is offline
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Thank you for the consideration and letting me make a character but Real life is demanding more of me, Thank you.
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  #132  
Old 10-05-2020, 03:58 PM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Hal Hammerhand View Post
Thank you for the consideration and letting me make a character but Real life is demanding more of me, Thank you.
Even though we're rivals for the remaining spot in the group, that's sad to see. I hope real life recedes a little to allow you to do more of the things you enjoy, even if this game isn't one of them.
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  #133  
Old 10-11-2020, 07:41 AM
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Only one more day! Good luck to everyone who applied!
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  #134  
Old 10-11-2020, 09:44 AM
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Good luck all! This is a fun opportunity for sure!!
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  #135  
Old 10-12-2020, 02:33 PM
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Thank you everyone for your participation. Another difficult decision, but I could only choose one. The selected player has been contacted, and I will post here if another spot opens up in the future.

Happy Gaming!
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