[D&D-5e] Ghosts of Saltmarsh / Princes of the Apocalypse

[MoldyNolds]

Character Application Name: Rikken Ancestry: Minotaur Class: Cleric (Nature Domain) Background: Marine History: Born into the raiding minotaurs of the Nelanther Isles, Kroggi of Clan Mohrkus spent his youth serving on one of the many longships terrorizing Asavir's Channel. He fought constantly with the other youth as was their way, brawling and struggling his way up the ranks of deckhands. Eventually he obtained the position of navigator, a much-lauded and honorable rank among his clan. This was a duty that many of his ilk hoped to achieve. To be able to live out their days in glorious, pitched battle on the open seas. He was set for life. Except... if that was the case then why, on one fateful day, did Kroggi intentionally sail his raiders into a fast-developing storm front? Perhaps it was the hand of some unseen, deific force upon him? Perhaps it was an underlying sense of frustration with the fruitless and violent culture he had been raised in? Perhaps it was simply a moment of poor judgement on his part? It is a question he ponders privately, every single day. Regardless, that decision changed the trajectory of his life forever. That storm utterly destroyed the clan's ship, throwing any surviving crew to the mercy of the tumultuous sea. Kroggi awoke several days later, wounded and weak, on a small deserted island. Well, not completely deserted... A venerable sea elf who called herself Naesala claimed to have found the minotaur and nursed him back to health amid his delirious ramblings of a twinkling light that led him to this island. In the coming days and weeks as Kroggi regained his strength he came to know Naesala as self-proclaimed Delphite of Deep Sashelas. Eventually Kroggi was able to signal a passing ship and barter his now-strong back for passage. Despite an offer to join him Naesala refused to leave, insisting that this island was within the Dolphin Prince's gaze and she would see the end of her days here, in peace. She did, however, thrust an aquamarine medallion into the minotaur's hands and told him that if he wanted to repay his debt to her, that he could live in service to Deep Sashelas, and with a knowing wink that he might even find Purpose. Now calling himself What he considers a particularly clever adaptation of the word "adrift" in the minotaur tongue.Rikken, the minotaur has forsaken his clan. He offers his services on whichever ships suit his purpose, preferring to act as either navigator or healer, but he won't shy away from good, honest labor. Personality/Appearance: Rikken usually tries to remain soft-spoken and calm in his demeanor. His thinner-than-minotaur-average physique helps to qualm any nervous bystanders. He reinforces this with stately garb (as best as he can afford), a rigid posture, and a better-than-average vocabulary, especially for a minotaur. But those that know him or know how to read people can tell he has to constantly keep his ancestral rage in check. When violence erupts and he is called upon to join in said violence, his bestial side is let loose!

[Tyeal]

Warms my grizzled Support heart to see TWO Clerics applying! But for something like Saltmarsh, and possibly PotA, I have to throw in a more natural touch.

Character App Name: Kendak Floatsam Race: Human Class: Druid (Spores) Background: Folk Hero Physical Description: Kendak is a wiry man of average height with long brown hair usually kept in an elaborate braid. His skin is lightly tanned, his hands calloused and dirty, and his eyes a strange icy blue. His travel attire is very simple. A deep green cloak over plain tunic and pants, with boots heavily worn and splattered with all sorts of wild life. He brandishes a walking stick taller than himself and topped with a spiraling staircase of mushrooms. Almost looking like an oddly spongy spear. His whole person wafts an odor of salt, soil, and... overripe fruit?   History: Kendak's strongest childhood memory was drawing a walking mountain in a corner of the tiny shack he and his parents grew up in. The place stank of salt and wood rot. His mother and father, Emmey and Heward, were wonderful. His mother had some little game or task that he could help with. Going to market, collecting herbs outside of town, stealing the occasional fish or day-old bread loaf, or finding him some bit of charcoal or chalk to doodle with. And his father taught him whatever he knew in his time as a soldier. Knots, stiches, first aid, using a dagger, repairs around their sea-side shanty so it didn't crumble into salt. Even losing three fingers on his good hand didn't stop him from doing what he could to keep their home standing. There were cold nights, muggy summers, and many terrifying sounds in the night that made it seem like the roof was finally falling in. Yet it never did. Despite it all, he was happy. Then came the ghosts. The earliest one Ken could recall was the white shadow of a man-shaped thing all covered in bumps. He'd later learn it was the body of a man who had been keelhauled. It just... stood there. A perfectly white outline against the other run-down shacks of the wharf that everyone didn't notice. It looked in his direction and reached out. He spent the rest of the day choking on his tears, hiding under the dining table. As he grew older he saw them more and more. More defined. More animal shapes started appearing. Whenever he talked about these ghosts with anyone else they called him crazy or touched. No doubt from living in the Wharf, where who-knows-what goes on. Save for his parents, he had next to no friends. The only other person was Ubada, a Half-Orc that ran the church of Talos his father volunteered at. The softest Orc he'd ever met, but had a voice so loud and so passionate it almost could drive out the dust from the ramshackle church. He was also the only person that believed him when he told him about the spirits, thinking that he might be touched by the Divine! "Give it time, boy." He told him. "No doubt things will become clearer when you're of-age." On the way to the church with his father, there was a group of Orcs and Half-Orcs standing outside. Speaking, yelling more like, with Ubada. He heard 'war band' before he was yanked into an alleyway by his Dad. The shouting was drawing a lot of attention and only drawing more eyes by the minute. Seemed like there was some real bad blood between them all and they weren't thrilled about Ubada still being alive. Weapons were being drawn, torches lit. Then the one doing the most shouting barked, "Torch it all!" Fire went up into the air in a slow arc, flipping end over end, aimed towards all the other buildings that weren't the church. Kendak saw this, screamed, and ran towards the crowd. A sudden gust of sea air blew overhead, throwing the torches into the crowd and the streets. Narrowly missing the buildings. Everyone looked around in amazement. Ubada laughed. "Y'see Krek?! Talos is keepin' this place standing! An' you'd be wise to-" THUNK. THUNK. THUNK. Fire arrows this time. And with the run-down buildings in this part of town, riddled with salt, they were going up fast. Ken stood stunned, seeing homes become bonfires so very quickly. He just stared in disbelief, tears stinging his eyes. With his focus on one building, he saw them again. The ghosts! There were lots of them now! Human and animal and... something else he didn't recognize. All looking at him. Without thinking, he screamed, "PUT IT OUT!" The ethereal crowd nodded. A few went into the first burning building. Then others filed into the ignited homes. Soon, the fires winked out. Vanished. The Orcs whipped their heads around, looking for the sorry bastard who had helped put out the fires they worked hard to start, even as the townsfolk scrambled to douse them with buckets of water and dirt. Then another fire winked out. Then another. Before they could all be put out, Heward scooped up his son and ran. Just as the Orc band gave chase. Heward still had his conditioning as a soldier, but he couldn't run forever. Ken watched from his shoulder as the greenskins were drawing arrows and taking running shots at them. A couple got dangerously close to landing. Not knowing what to do, and seeing something so terrifying as those dangerous fighters, he screamed in a panic, "STOP!" More of those ghostly figures appeared from nothing, standing in a line in the street. They all bent down and began to strain lifting something up. The street cracked and rumbled, splitting open as thick brown roots shot up and ensnared the warband. Tripping up a good number of them with only a couple managing to slip out completely. They were a tangled mass only briefly, but it was long enough to get away. Long enough for the town watch to finally arrive with weapons of their own and chase off the warband, headed by Ubada. That encounter was 20 years ago. Since that incident, Kendak had studied whatever he could to learn about his powers. It wouldn't be until he met his mentor, Gornam, that he'd learn his powers came from nature. The world around him. Or possibly some place far beyond. In that time he learned a great deal about his abilities and communing with the spirits that looked to him. Having gained some notoriety in that time for minor deeds done here and there to grow his powers. But now he stands on the deck of a ship bound for the Tethyr Peninsula. Bound for a tiny fishing village called Saltmarsh. Gornam had received multiple messages of ill tidings there, particularly the dead rising once more and being gathered by some unknown group. He was being sent out to correct this great imbalance in the natural order and locate the source of the growing disturbance.

[Kweheri]

? Name: Blixik Nix Race: Kobold (mmom) Class: Warlock (fathomless) Background: Fisher Physical Description: Small like all kobolds, standing at a mighty 30" tall, his body lithe, but honed. Blixik was a type of bronze colour, darkened by the sun and yet burnished by the sea spray. Scales more prominent and dry in appearance, in the more exposed areas like his hands and face. Down his back sit 3 scars, all small and circular, yet each slightly smaller than the previous. However these were rarely visible due to his fondness for a hooded cloak. His expression was usually relaxed and at ease, unless he was talking with the tides, then his face was fixed and stern. He took his oath to what lurks at the depths very seriously. History: His history was somewhat vague, to anyone that knew him. He never spoke of his life before his 'finding' as he'd call it. The details of his Clan, the area he was from just didn't exist. It was as if his life started just 2 years ago. 2 years ago, when he was out at sea on a small boat. Fishing for the first time with a line and rod, he felt a bite and excitedly struck at his catch. The two fought, minutes felt like hours, and he was already beginning to tire, when his catch lurched, the surprise catching him off balance and pulled him into the water. Silently and without even a splash, his small kobold body disappeared below the surface. He couldn't see any fish, only darkness. Long after releasing the rod he continued to be dragged deeper and deeper, the cold had numbed his senses but he continued to flail and reach for the surface. He was unaware of a tentacle that had latched to his torso. Feeling so tired, the fisherman ran out of breath and fell to sleep. He dreamt of a large, goat-like eye. Many times his size, looking deep into him. The freezing cold was now comfortable, and he was breathing normally with his attention and gaze fixed by the giant eye. He thanked it for saving him, then woke on the pebbly shore, surrounded by the wreck of his small boat. It was only a couple of days later that he noticed the scars upon his back, and the lucid conversations he continued to have with the eye whilst dreaming. That made him question what had happened. He felt different in himself, finding new talents and a deeper passion for the sea. Along with a deep reverence and gratitude for whatever lurked at the greatest of depths. Blixiks life had changed, he now lived a life of devotion and service. Favoured and blessed by that giant eye at the greatest and crushing depths. He regularly found himself escorting ships, traders and seafarers looking to hedge their bets, by having on board a servant of the sea, hoping it'd ensure the safety of their vessel.

[The Rat Queen]

Application Name: Zarae Baenana Race: Drow Class: Rogue (aspiring Arcane Trickster) Background: Criminal (Spy) Physical Description: Zarae is a slender drow woman with shoulder-length white hair, pink eyes, and grayish-purple skin. She stands at five-and-a-half feet tall and tends to wear dark clothing, including a broad cloak with a full hood that can cover her completely. A slender rapier hangs by her side or within reach at all times, and while traveling she also carries a curved short bow on her back and a long dagger opposite her rapier. Her face, while delicate and angular, does not carry the tension of hatred often associated with drow. Instead, she seems more coiled than tense, ready to move when necessary, but otherwise betraying no unnecessary movement. Her build is slight, prone more toward agility and quickness than power. When seen outside during the day - which is rare, as she has not overcome her racial intolerance for the sun - she remains fully cloaked, all but a shadow within the protection of her covering. Inside, or at night, she throws back the hood and gives herself a little more room to move and breathe. History: Zarae of House Baenana was born and raised in Imberlur, a mainly Eilistraee-worshiping drow city located in the Upperdark below the Border Kingdoms. Being raised away from the influence of Lolth, she does not carry the traditional drow hatred toward other races, particularly surface elves. Imberlur was an open community of trust and personal exploration and growth, and Zarae has wonderful memories of growing up; she misses her home, but wishes to learn and improve herself - thus, she travels the surface world, seeking adventure and opportunity. Ironically, it was her bohemian upbringing that caused her trouble on the surface, once she reached human settlements. Imberlar didn't feel the need to use measures to protect their privacy, and had only a loose grasp of the idea of personal property. This culture did not go over well on the surface, and she very nearly found herself missing a hand when she casually claimed a loaf of bread from a street vendor to ease her hunger. Fortunately for her, a guard captain happened to be nearby and intervened. Despite initial mistrust of the 'drow thief', Zarae's words persuaded the captain to show mercy and put her in the charge of a mentor who would explain the ways of the city to Zarae. Unbeknownst to her (but knownst to us), she was also being tested in the capacity of a useful agent for the local authorities. Zarae's natural physical and intellectual quickness, as well as her ability to win people over and talk her way out of trouble, made her a prime candidate as a spy. There were those with interests that opposed the common good who might trust and open up to a drow, and Zarae would report any potential trouble back. Zarae was more than happy to repay the kindness shown to her, and enjoys the opportunity to travel and explore, all while contributing to the well-being of her new home. The first such hint of potential trouble came from a small port town called Saltmarsh, where it was rumored that cult activity was growing. Zarae was to join or form a band of adventurers and investigate, lest the cult gain too much foothold.

[Red Leper]

The Application Name: Str 14 | Dex 16 | Con 14 | Int 8 | Wis 16 | Cha 8Zemni Basha El Shar Race: Athletic featHuman (variant) Class: Monk (Way of Shadow potentially) Background: Acolyte (Cult dedicated to Shar) Personality Trait: -I see omens in every event and action. The gods are trying to speak to us, we just have to listen. Ideal: -Change. We must help bring about the changes the gods are constantly working in the word. (Chaotic) Bond: -My goddess has set me on a new path by sparing my life. I must see it through. Flaw: -I judge others harshly, and myself even more severely. Physical Description: Zemni is tall compared to other Calashite women, near six feet tall with a wide, muscular, almost masculine frame, anyone who looks at her can tell she is a mix blood. Her father was a seafaring merchant hailing from the large and muscular Turami people and her mother was a member of the desert clans of Calimshan lending to her looks varying from Calashite norms. Despite the dusky skin and dark eyes that she inherited from her mother, her long curly black hair that trails down her back and remains always untamed makes her always look like a foreigner when she would play with the other kids. She wears clothing typical to her mother's people since she grew up in the deserts and cities of Calimshan, Simple sandals, loose beige trousers that cinch at her ankles with a sash that wraps her waist, loose beige shirt that laces at her breastbone with long sleeves that cinch at her wrists and a long woven vest with a tropical plant motif that reaches down just past her buttocks. She wears dangling ornamental earrings that resemble the spheres of the universe, a black leather cord choker with a onyx set in the front and a longer, gold chain that dangles below her collarbones. She always has a small sheath of darts hidden in the back of her sash and a curved, ivory-handle dagger with an ornamental scabbard with gems embedded and gold trimming tucked in the front of her sash. History: Zemni was born into the harshness of the Basha Clan in the Calim Desert. At her birth, she was put through the rituals of Shar, Marked by blood and bathed in Darkness and in this way, she was sworn to Mother Night. Her destiny was laid before her at that time. From the time she could stand, she was trained, how to use a dagger and her own body as a weapon with deadly intent, how to remain unseen even in the scorching sunlight of the desert. When the time came, that Shar summoned her, she was bidden to venture to Calimport. While there, she was tasked with infiltrating Pasha Pook's criminal empire. Zemni's infiltration would have been perfect if not for one of Pasha's agents that wasn't supposed to be there. Instead, the young woman was sold into slavery and sent away from Calimshan on a slave ship. For nearly a year, she slaved away at the oars of the Desaad Amor. She seen many places and miles of ocean through the portcullis and as pleasing as that might have been, she prayed daily to Mother Night for some natural disaster to rescue her from this fate, even if that meant her death. Her rescue came in the form of a midnight storm, like no one aboard had ever seen. The ship was shipwrecked violently upon a cliff, no survivors, except one, Zemni. She took this as a sign that the Mother Night had another task for her and thus sees her new life on the Sword Coast as a calling from her diety.

[Double or Nothing]

Updated my application since I realized it'd be cool to have a Forgotten Realms version of Blackbeard in my character's backstory.

Even if I don't get in feel free to use what's in my application for the campaign, I'd hate for it to be wasted.

[Onward]

Corral Name: Corral Race: Sea Elf Class: Rogue (Swashbuckler) Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Background: Criminal (Smuggler) Personality Trait1: I value gold and riches and will go to great lengths to acquire it Personality Trait2: Survival to the fittest, that's what I've been in order to succeed in this world Ideal: Greed. I will do whatever it takes to attain wealth Bond: All for the purposes of finding a home. A place to belong. Flaw: I'm not good at planning, rather I'm impulsive, reactionary, and opportunistic. Personality: Corral is a rowdy looking ruffian, fitting for the rogue pirate that she appears to be. Give her a beer, a keg or two, and she'll be the most sea-swearing braggart of the seven seas. Her morality is skewed where survival is the most important part of life, screw laws, screw morals, it's just you and your one life in this miserable world Yet hidden within her rough exterior was once a wide-eyed young sea elf seeking adventure, perhaps she's still their. She's fiercely loyal to those she considers friends and treasures the bonds she forms most of all. Her goal is after all, to find a place to belong. Appearance: Corral stands about 4ft, mostly because she's young for her age. Her hair is long and as green as seaweeds. She doesn't care about state of dress and doesn't mind showing off her tattooed body. Usually wears the apparel of victims she fools and cons, wearing the coat of a navy admiral after one sulty stunt that she's particularly proud of. Backstory: Corral's tale begins with humble beginnings. She was born into a sea elf community, her family was of the highest stations actually. She was treated like a princess, yet she was always shy amongst her peers. She never fit in with her elvish brethren in the waves. Rather than play with other children, Corral spent most of her time reading books from ship wreckages. Their were plenty of books about adventure to the high seas, swashbuckling and such. She was a glutton for this stuff, and often pretended to be a great pirate captain, using the skeleton of the ship wreckage as her theatrical play. Her secret hideout. Once she was sixteen, she left her family to join up with some traveling merchants that trade in the surface. She wanted to join a crew, but once she headed to the docks, her world view change. She was captured by said merchants and pawned as a slave. She was freed eventually by smugglers, though the experience from her capture haunts her. The experience was lessened when she manage to kill one of the merchants and steal all coffers. She joined up with these band of smugglers. They looted, earned plenty of coin, and she learned the trade of thievery from them. Although, eventually, she should have expected the betrayal. It was survival of the fittest after all, she was abandoned by them when she was caught and arrested, but this time, with the skills she learned. She escaped by herself and now is finding a place to hide. She knew of an old smuggling locale, Salt marsh, so she stowaway in a ship and hop to hide in that boring village. Her dreams of high seas adventure crushed, but yet the embers are still their. She just needs a crew that she can trust.

[Togot]

Name: Victor Cai
Race: variant human
Class: wizard chronogist
Alignment: Lawful good
Background: cloistered scholar
Personality Traits:
I value knowledge and will go to great lengths to acquire it
I always believe I am the smartest person in the room

Ideal: knowledge is power

Bond: I am the last of my order and I seek to rebuild it

Flaw: I can be extremely arrogant at times

Appearance: Victor is a well-dressed, well-groomed human man in his mid-twenties. He has short black hair and a tail but thin frame. he wears a golden amulet around his neck and carries a thick book with a lock on it with him everywhere he goes.

Backstory: Victor was born into a reclusive order of wizards known as the Time Lords. They specialized in time magic, seeing the future, and could even rewind time to correct mistakes. They were a secretive sect who lived in a temple called Tarris on a small mountain above a humble town called Jukes. Victor’s father, the head of the order known as Jon Haddar, taught him since he was old enough to speak. The boy spent most of his days in the library, reading or being read to and quizzed by his father afterward. Victor loved learning about all the fantastical lands and creatures of the world and enjoyed watching his elders do magic. It wasn’t long before Victor learned his first spells.

Sadly, this was not to last, and it was Victor’s naïve actions that caused the order's downfall. Victor liked to go down to Jukes to see how other people lived. One day, when he was seventeen, he was approached by a beautiful woman named Victoria. She easily seduced and manipulated the young and inexperienced wizard into revealing the location and defenses of his home. Little did he know that she was the leader of a religious group known as the arcane inquisition who believed magic belonged to the gods, and the servants of gods. Those who wielded the arcane were sinners who needed to be purged.

The time lords were not caught unaware. With their magic, they had known this day would come, and had accepted their fate. During the inquisition’s attack, Jan Haddar took Victor to the teleportation room and gave him the eye of Chrono, and the book of Jiquan which held all their spells. His father told him it was his destiny to rebuild the order and teleported him away to safety.

Victor arrived in the outside world. Now the last of his order, Victor has been given the monumental task of deciphering the book of Jiquan, surviving in the outside world he has only ever read about, and rebuilding his order. Desperately alone, lost, and afraid that Victoria may track him down, Victor seeks allies and power to protect himself.

Personality: victor is a sharp-witted very knowledgeable individual who always believes he is the smartest person in the room. This can be very off-putting to others and makes it hard for him to make friends, but those who can tolerate him find a very able companion. At his core Victor has a good heart and wants to help the masses, but he is unsure how to go about it.

Due to circumstances, Victor finds himself a fish out of water. Torn from the safety of Tarris and thrown into a world that he mostly only read about, Victor is often put in positions where what he thought he knew wasn’t true. This, on top of the trauma of losing his home and family, leaves him deeply insecure and unsure of himself, which he tries to hide by overcompensating with false confidence.

Victor also carries a heavy burden. Tasked with rebuilding his order as its last surviving member despite being a mere apprentice, the young wizard feels the weight of responsibility crushing him. He is desperate for help but afraid to ask for it.

[Trmmilwwi]

Application Name: Brynwood "Bryn" Glaringdon Race: Half-Elf Class: Bard Background: Guild Artisan (Distiller) Physical Description: At first glance Bryn appears to be a human of average height and build. He stands just under 6' tall and carries himself with an agile grace. He is very fit and has a toned muscular appearance although he does not appear to be very strong. He wears working clothes most of the time which consist of gray cloth pants and undershirt with a working apron of leather. After hours, or when he is out in the town, he wears slightly more formal clothes that consist of tailored pants, a collared shirt and leather shoes and belt. He keeps his hair fairly long to hide the tell tale signs of his elvish blood, pointed ears and a more chiseled face. Only when you are up close and talking with Bryn would you notice that he is a half elf rather than human. His personality is consistent with his elven blood as he is very open and accommodating with all people and he is curious in general. Having grown up as a bastard in the Glaringdon House he has learned that he must be willing to be subservient on many occasions. History: The family was finishing up a Sunday night dinner, which was a weekly custom of theirs and included all family members who happened to be in Zazesspur at the time, when Bryn overheard his father talking with his grandmother and family matriarch, Lady Estrip. He didn't hear much of the conversation but "... they know it is us. We must find someone to blame or the entire House will be cast asunder!" The bastard had heard many heated discussions such as this and most of them were in respect to the more questionable family businesses. He didn't think much of the conversation and went about his business the next day. It was during a pickup the next day that he had heard from his suppliers that Lady Estrip was found dead in her room that night. The cleric's official cause of death was that she had died of heart failure and old age. Bryn saw her late the night before her death and she never looked better. He questioned his father about the Lady's death a few days later as Bryn expected something had happened, likely poisoning by someone within the family. His father demanded that it was old age, as the cleric had stated, but shortly thereafter Bryn was cast out of the House and disowned by the family. The distillery that he so loved and built from scratch was handed off to one of his half brothers and Bryn was sent to work for a supplier of barrels near the Forest of Mir, just east of Zazesspur. Shortly thereafter Bryn heard that Glaringdon relatives in Amn had laid claim to be the rightful heirs of the House now that Lady Estrip was dead. Bryn was born into the Glaringdon House as a bastard son of Jeysen, Trellin's son. Jeysen was in charge of establishing contacts with neighboring villages for the poisons that the House is known for and was on a trip to a nearby elven enclave at the time. He had relations with a young elven maiden who gave birth to Brynwood. Almost immediately Jeysen brought his child back into the house to make sure that the child was protected and the Glaringdon House was not tarnished. Bryn never had contact with his mother or her family and to this day does not know who they are. This has adversely affected his relationship with his father's family and Bryn has always felt more elven than human. The bastard child was raised alongside the other noble children in the House. Bryn often times had last choice of food, received hand me downs from the other children and was required to complete chores that were deemed too rough for the other children. He simply was an outcast inside the Glaringdon house and invisible outside of the House, except for his grandmother, Lady Estrip who seemed to worship the youngest grandchild, almost protective of him. He enjoyed the homeschooling he received, he was not allowed to attend classes outside of the House, and threw himself into obtaining all of the knowledge he could. His time with tutors inside of the House walls was precious as it meant he did not have to be with the other children nor the noble men of the family. The Glaringdon House is a fairly small house within Zazesspur and has only a handful of familial units underneath the matriarch, Lady Estrip Glaringdon. As such, the older men in the family handle most of the illicit dealings with other Houses within Zazesspur and with the surrounding villages. House Glaringdon is officially known for winemaking and for having long owned land in Zazesspur but their moneymaking operation is without a doubt more sinister. Behind the scenes the women of the family make some of the most rare and potent poisons throughout the world. The winemaking business allows the manufacture of the poisons to occur without much notice from the authorities. Even more sinister, the family has been one of the forerunners of the expanding slave trade market. Lady Estrip had no initial knowledge of the illicit dealings of the House and only later found out, till her death she feigned to not know about any of it while she most obviously did. Once Bryn had completed his lessons he needed to obtain a role within the House and was given tasks as the "front" of the family business. Not even trusted enough to be close to the poisons as part of the distilling operation, the bastard was given a new division of spirits, a distillery, as part of the family's expanding operations. This not only kept the liability, Jeysen's bastard son, away from the prized possessions but also kept Bryn separate from the remainder of the young men and women of the House. The young man once again enjoyed the opportunity to be away from the more privileged members of the House and to be able to build his own business. Not only was he a fairly smart businessman from his years of studies but he also found that he enjoyed working with the public and the various suppliers. His natural abilities to learn more about people and honestly enjoy their company helped him tremendously in this regard. Since the family wanted to keep the business separate from the other family pursuits Bryn was able to create his own network of contacts and suppliers. Within a few years he had built up the fine spirits division of House Glaringdon into one of it's most well known products. While this irritated Lady Estrip the fact that he was completely isolated from the rest of the family pursuits was just too perfect to change anything. Bryn was not proud of how his family made most of their money but his years of just accepting his role in life underneath the more respected members of the family made him feel as though he was powerless to do anything about it.   Personality Trait: I like to talk at length about my profession Ideal: Everyone should be free to pursue his or her own livelihood Bond: The workshop where I learned my trade is the most important place in the world to me Flaw: I would kill to re-acquire my noble title

[Onward]

Originally Posted by BlackDragon0

Why is my ch a wip on list. I answered all the requirements.

Ehh, I'm not the DM but your app doesn't have much info about your character compared to everyone elses app. Could use a bit more on the history. Maybe background on what life in his clan was before it was crush by orcs

[The Rat Queen]

@Dyerdon - Zarae is finished and ready for review, if you're giving feedback or suggestions.

[Dyerdon]

@Blackdragon0, I skimmed many of the shorter ones that were WIP, and had thought yours were as well, I'll fix that in just a minute if you are done with your application.

Anyone that would like feedback, I'll offer some as well. As usual, I've found that there's a lot of great applications, picking only 6 is often a feat and a half! You guys certainly don't make final selections easy.

[Double or Nothing]

I'd love feedback.

[penbeast0]

I'd love feedback.

[abc123]

I would also love feedback!