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  #121  
Old 09-27-2018, 09:41 PM
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  #122  
Old 09-27-2018, 11:28 PM
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Name: Tamina Starwind

Race: Human (variant)

Class: Druid

Alignment: CN to start

Description: Tamina Starwind is a human woman of average stature and slight build. She is in her late twenties or perhaps early thirties with sun-touched skin and dark brown hair. She speaks softly in a husky voice and moves with grace. She dresses simply but not necessarily practically, favouring simple fabrics for her dresses and animal hide or leather for bodices. Tamina can be found barefoot as often as wearing boots, and her hands and forearms are heavily scarred. Worn around her neck on a thin bit of cord is a sea shell, weathered and smooth from years of being handled. It is Tamina's most treasured possession, given to her as a talisman of good fortune and eternal bond by a former mentor. She also carries a twig of cloud pine that she plucked from the top of its tree as a small child. Tamina keeps it as a memento of simpler, happier times and it sometimes serves to keep her hair tied back in a bun or ponytail.

Personality: She's eccentric in the way someone might be if they spent too much time away from civilization, away from human contact. She takes great interest in the occult and (stereotypically) all that is natural. She views civilization with its large stone buildings as barren and uninteresting - flesh and bone are visceral. She is slow to anger and typically lives her life in a sort of emotional monotone, however once her anger is stoked it burns with an intensity few can match.

Backstory: Tamina was born to loving but dirt-poor parents, in a small farming hamlet nestled somewhere in the vast expanse of the Empty Hills, near a reasonably large and deep lake. Tamina had always been known for having somewhat of a green thumb in her youth and she was often invaluable to her family and neighbours when crops withered. She had a knack for growing things and Tamina can remember feeling a sense of connection to the land as far back as she can recall. In her late teens she began seeing a young man that caught her fancy. On a spring afternoon, Tamina caught him lying naked in a hay loft with one of the other farmers' daughters.

The next day, Tamina was nowhere to be found. Three days later the boy's bloated, rotting corpse was found washed up on the lakeshore, with signs of poisoning. Tamina never set foot in town again.

Tamina wandered aimlessly through the badlands for weeks on the brink of starvation. She eventually was taken in by a group of druids who recognized that Tamina shared the same connection to the land as they, and taught her the ways of the Old Faith. Tamina stayed and lived with her new surrogate family for years, oblivious to the fact that the boy's family had scraped together all their savings to hire bounty hunters to bring her to justice for his murder.

She'd been sleeping when they came for her. At least some of her group had been killed- Tamina had seen someone bloodied and laid out before the burlap sack was forced over her head.

She wondered what had become of them?

RP Sample: Tamina Starwind sat on the floor of the prisoner wagon, wrists shackled behind her back and her legs curled tightly up underneath her in fear. The wagon hit a large bump, jostling her somewhat out of the corner. She scrabbled against the dusty wooden floor to get her back to the corner again.

Tamina looked at the large, muscular man with apprehension. Cadogan, he'd said his name was. He was a little too close to her for comfort, and Tamina found him intimidating.

"Me? Well I-" Tamina paused to work moisture into her mouth. "I was living among nature when they came for me. They think I'm a witch."

Tamina kept talking, mostly out of anxiety. "There was a young man, many seasons ago," she said, not meeting Cadogan's eyes. "We... wronged each other. I perhaps can be said to have won, if you can call this a victory."

Tamina paused, craning her neck for a view outside the wagon. It looked like there were maybe more prisoners out there, being forced to walk rather than ride. Tamina noticed Cadogan was still looking at her, and she felt vulnerable. Dried blood on Tamina's temple and scalp itched, and without use of her hands she tried ineffectually to scratch it with her shoulder.

She cleared her throat. "In any case, I suppose there is no use concealing it now. I fled. I sank his body in the lake with a large stone, and fled to the wilderness in hopes they would think we eloped. They probably think I cursed him." Tamina paused, momentarily forgetting her fear. "I'm a murderess. That is an odd thing to hear one's self say, especially as I go to my death."

Tamina swallowed visibly. "Truthfully I didn't think this would be how my last journey would unfold."

Last edited by Astra; 09-27-2018 at 11:37 PM.
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  #123  
Old 09-28-2018, 06:16 AM
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Sir Kieran DanLuthar - The Smiling Knight

Name: Kieran DanLuthar
Race: Human (variant)
Class: Paladin
Alignment: LG

 


 


 


 


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  #124  
Old 09-29-2018, 02:31 AM
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Any particular cutoff date you've got there, Señor tomplum?
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  #125  
Old 09-29-2018, 02:36 AM
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  #126  
Old 09-29-2018, 09:53 AM
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@ PeasOfCrab - the week of 10/15 I'll be mostly unavailable so I'm thinking I'll have to go all the way to 10/19. Longer than I'd like but I hate to start a game and then go AWOL for a week right off the bat.
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  #127  
Old 09-29-2018, 03:10 PM
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Name: Zylstaer Cramorn
Race: Half-Elf
Class: Warlock, Archfey patron
Alignment: Chaotic Good

Description: Zyl is a half-elf of moderate height and build, with brown hair and a closely cropped beard. He dresses in green clothing, underneath which is his leather armor. He keeps in his possession a book of Elvish folktales, a rare gift from his elven father, and an important tie back to his elven heritage.
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Background: Urchin
Traits: I ask a lot of questions. I sleep with my back to a wall or tree, with everything I own wrapped in a bundle in my arms.
Ideal: Respect. All people, rich or poor, deserve respect.
Bond: No one else should have to endure the hardships I've been through.
Flaw: It's not stealing if I need it more than someone else.

Backstory: The son of a wandering elf from Taeth Aresti and an impoverished human mother, Zylstaer (Zyl) had a rough childhood. He saw his father occasionally but increasingly rarely as he grew older. Once his mother died, he was left to fend for himself in a small village in the Empty Hills. He is friendly and engaging in conversation to anyone who treats him with respect. Having had many close calls, though, he is very careful and not entirely trusting of most people he meets.

From time to time, he sought to escape the oppression of the village in the surrounding wilderness. During one of these journeys, he encountered a mysterious spirit in a hidden woodland grove. "Zylstaer, you have tremendous potential within you. Let me teach you to unlock it. In exchange, I might request an occasional favor." Intrigued, curious, and somewhat desperate, he accepted the offer.

With his newfound powers, Zyl grew much more confident in his ability to defend himself. Eventually, however, the spirit appeared to him in a dream, and said: "A nobleman of Rhyfel has something that belongs to me. It is an emerald amulet. He will be traveling through your village in the next few days. Retrieve it for me."

Zyl kept his eyes open for the coming of the nobleman's caravan. When they entered the village to stop for the night, he searched the caravan's wagons for the amulet. Unfortunately, he was spotted by the guards and had to flee without recovering it. A price was placed on his head, and Thirdrin and Thofror Bronzemantle captured him two days later. He is now being taken to Kersdinas to learn his fate. His patron still appears to him in his dreams, assuring Zyl that he has great plans for him and that he needs to be patient. Zyl is not entirely sure that his trust in his patron is justified.

RP Sample (On the Road to Kersdinas): Zyl listens to one of his fellow prisoners speak about his predicament. A nobleman, an aristocrat. They've given me more than enough trouble lately. Making excuses for himself, and a religious fanatic too, from what I can tell. Zyl ponders his situation further. I'm alone, my patron is unreliable, let's say, and they are probably going to kill me. Might not hurt to make a friend out here.

"Sir Kieran", he says. "I'm sorry to hear how things have gone for you. I mean, I know you're a noble, but it seems to me that it's not helping you any more than it is me." He continues "Life's rough out here. I know you know that. They're sending me up for a crime I did not commit. I get it." Well, technically, I'm not lying, since I didn't get the amulet. He drops to a whisper: "Justice, for them, is just keeping themselves in power and keeping the rest of us down. Look, I've had to take care of myself for most of my life. I think we can find a way to escape. If we work together, I'm sure we'll find a way to survive. Are you up for it?"

At that moment, he whispers an arcane syllable, makes a slight gesture, and his hand begins to glow as the spell begins to take effect...
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Last edited by gjf2a; 09-29-2018 at 03:10 PM.
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  #128  
Old 09-29-2018, 10:17 PM
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Name: Grenzo
Race: Goblin (Can change if needed, probably to a halfling or human)
Class: Rogue (eventually Arcane trickster)
Alignment: CN
Description: Grenzo also carries with him a set of leather working tools. In his home village he was a leather worker and fashioned armours and other items.
Personality: Grenzo is very goblin like-like in his behaviour and has a poor understanding of normal civilisations. This and his love of 'jokes' often lead him into trouble. He is also very proud of his work and is always on the lookout for interesting pelts for his leather-working abilities.

Backstory:
Grenzo started his life the same way as many other goblins. He was born to a typical goblin tribe doing typical goblin tasks. However it was evident, even from a younger age, that Grenzo was of higher intelligence then most Goblins. He became an adept leatherworker and read almost any scrap of paper he could find. The other goblins were afraid of his intelligence and did what they can to supres him from becoming stronger. They called him foolish, weak and a variety of other nasty things. Eventually, though, he got fed up and left his village.

Grenzo was rarely allowed inside settlements created by other races. And when he did, he would often get pushed out or refused basic services. Often times, Grenzo had to resort to theft, just for his basic needs. Food, water, Shiny things. Grenzo loves shiny things. One time Grenzo stole a little pile pile of shiny rocks from some important-looking human. The human called them rare gems... The human was very angry when he found out, and was likely the one to hire the bounty hunters.

RP Sample: Social Encounter, Combat Encounter
Grenzo looked around with shifting eyes. He was trapped in a prison cart, filled with persons of many races. Races that typically hated goblins... People that likely hated him... He attempted to be quite for a little while, just watching and hoping his fellow prisoners wouldn't turn on him in the chaos.

After several much time has passed the chaos of the prison cart had settled down some Grenzo was finally able to calm his nerves a little. It seemed as though no one here was going to attack the poor goblin. Perhaps a goblin on a prison cart is a common sight to these people. Grenzo found himself sitting next to a elvish looking man. With a strange looking arm. The goblin took note of what properties he could gleam from it, but figured he shouldn't ask the man about it. "So how did you end up in here?" Grenzo aks, "I took a bag of shiny rocks from the wrong man..."

Last edited by SomeGuy; 10-10-2018 at 10:55 AM.
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  #129  
Old 10-01-2018, 12:26 AM
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The black sheep of the family
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Name: Shishia Firbone
Race: Ghostwise Halfling
Class: Monk
Background: Outlander
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Description: As pictured. Shishia always keeps her hair tied in the simple, polished cooper bands inherited from her grandmother, as well as a pine cone her little sister took from their ancestral home when the two ran away.
Trait:
  • i. When possible, she drinks more ale than water.
  • ii. Confident and competitive, Shishia loves nothing more than a challenge.
Bond: Shishia's youngest sister is out there, and so are her slavers. She will die before she fails to find both.
Ideal: Vigor. A life lived with passion and enthusiasm is a life well-lived, morality aside.
Flaw: Temper temper! While she doesn't seek out insult, the eldest child of the Firbone clan finds it incredibly difficult to turn the other cheek or back down from a fight.
Personality: While the Firbones are known to be a clan of somber and secretive mountain dwellers, it was clear Shishia was different from the moment she could walk. Before she left, Shishia was known to her clansmen for her explosive temper and loud laughter. Headstrong and willing to go up against anyone, Shishia speaks first in heated moments, but is also quick to break bread and make fellowship with others. Her natural curiosity and bright spirit make her easy to get along with (when she isn't being provoked into drunken brawls or gambling competitions).

Backstory:
Born Shishianessa Firbone in the settlement of "High Hill" in HaflingGorud Avarurg, the eldest of the Firbone children was traditionally expected to take up the role of lorekeeper for the clan. But Shishia never had much interest in the oral traditions of her people. She shirked her lessons, avoiding her cantankerous grandfather, the Firbone Patriarch and current lorekeeper, choosing instead to hunt with her beloved spear and explore the mountain range.

The Firbones were far from the only clan that called Gorud Avarurg home. They shared the settlement with several other halfing families. But they were the largest and most respected, so Shishia's propensity towards fights and indecorum became a point of contention between her and the Firbones elders. She was popular among the halfing youth though, including her seven younger brothers and sisters. It was not an uncommon night to find all seven of the other Firbone litter, along with other youths from the village, gathered around a fire as Shishia boasted about the beasts she'd encountered on her regular excursions to the outskirts of their territory.

It was not long into reaching maturity that the tempestuous halfing decided to go beyond the border of ancient pine trees that marked the forbidden outside world. It was the law of the village to stay away from the outside world. But Shishia Firbone would not be contained. On a cold, crisp evening she decided to embark on a journey into the wider world, seeking adventure and challenge. Unbeknownst to her, her youngest sister, Tapiwa, had followed her into the wilds. By the time Shishia discovered she was being trailed, they were almost a full day's journey from Gorud Avarurg and in very dangerous territory.

They were set upon by men. Slavers. Shishia fought tooth and nail, but Tapiwa was no warrior. She was captured almost instantly and Shishia, engaged with three men, could do naught but watch as they dragged her away. The slavers wore green bandannas that covered their faces, and by the time she'd managed to gut the three men left behind, a wounded and despairing Shishia couldn't catch up to the caravan that had taken her sister away. But she didn't give up. For days she tracked the caravan. It led her out of the mountains and into the Empty Hills. The night she finally caught up with the tracks, she didn't find her sister, but a makeshift town of tents and caravans. Clearly, the men who had stolen Tapiwa had come here, either to sell their merchandise or hide among the other travelling traders.

She spent her first and only night in the Cicella, the traveling merchant's town, in a rampage. She destroy tent after tent, attacking anyone wearing green in a drunken rage (having broken into a caravan that specialized in uncommon ales). The self-loathing and guilt that the young halfing had been holding in for days was a blossom of ugliness that night and when the bounty hunters came for her, she wasn't even able to put up a fight.

RP Sample:

"Oi!!" Shishia hollered from inside the prison wagon. She banged on the solid wooden walls of her mobile prison with her shackled heels, sending dust sprinkling down on her and her fellow prisoners with each slam. "I'm thirsty in here!"

The halfing wasn't sure exactly how much time had passed since she'd woken up inside the hot, dank pen, but it'd surely been more than a two days. Her wrists and ankles were fettered to an iron ring set deeply into the floor which was damp with who knows what. She'd tried simply pulling her tiny wrists through the rings, but that'd only left her with dark purple bruises on her brown skin.

"Oi! Water! You mushroom-eared moles!" Finally the wagon groaned to a halt and she could hear the muffled voices of the bounty hunters conferring up front. She grinned. This time, her wrists were slicked with sweat and she bet with a good tug...

Last edited by Vislands; 10-02-2018 at 02:14 PM.
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  #130  
Old 10-01-2018, 12:35 PM
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Anna Fieldhall
Character Information
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Basic Information

Class: Sorcerer: Divine Soul Ebberon

Race: Human Variant

Combat Role: Spell Damage and Debuffs

Social Role: Darker Face

Background: RunawayUrchin

Personality Traits

Trait: I'm haunted by memories of dreams that are not mine, places I have never been.

Bond: No Limits. Nothing should fetter the infinite possibility inherent in all existence.

Ideal: I will someday get revenge on an fanatical cult that turned my childhood into a nightmare.

Flaw: My hatred of my enemies is blind and unreasoning.
Who she is
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Appearance

The Eye: The young girl resembles that of a street orphan, wearing nothing of real value with only one, often hidden, exception. The Eye is just that, a magic eye hanging on a chain. It's small sleek obsidian casing has no hinges to unlock itself, nor marks of damage or creation. Yet, it is unblinking, shifting focus from interest to interest. The Eye is also silent in all manners, offering nothing in return outside of its gaze. Most including Anna, lose themselves inside of its constantly clashing blue and purple burning iris. The Eye's only stoic trait is that when Anna is within it's view, it will focus on nothing else. It locks to her refusing to glance elsewhere. There is a connection between the pair, but the young girl has no idea what that is.

Hand of Ruin: Always covered by a glove, she hides the hand underneath the dark leather. But, when revealed it is a revolting extremity. Anna's hand speaks of flame on top of unhealed burns. Anna's torture created a sight not for the weak stomach. The chaotic pattern shifts between her normal pink flesh and black char. To anyone unlucky enough to touch it. The hand burns with an icy chill leeching any living essence,
except it's unfortunate owner.

Personality

Cold. The young girl has learned in order to survive the cruel world she must always put herself first. Along her travels, many have chosen to give their life for hers. Anna feels their deaths would be in vein if she died, but their self sacrifice has also pushed Anna's ego. Survival is a corner stone of her character. She doesn't know her path assuming only it will be a bold one. Anna will often dream of realms doused with fire, swirling with death and decay. She is whist away inhabiting bodies and living out their deaths. The unsettling experience haunts her weakening the value of life in her mind. Preferring to fight battles unfairly, revenge is her driving agency. However, she doesn't seek out death. Particularly, those that have wronged innocents or her what she sees as her friends directly. Once in motion she embodies the evils of darkness. Only stopping at when she has drained the life out of her foes. The only thing that keeps her from the final villainous shift is the kindness she has experienced in her fearful travels.

Backstory

Anna knows of two times periods in her life, the temple and running from it. The later is filled with bounty hunters, cultist zealots, narrow escapes, and handful of friendly martyrs. Before that she remembers caverns, ruins, and shrines. All drenched with evil and shadow. If given a map she can't make sense of anything, except she remembers the arching stone door. The runes that if failed to press correctly incinerate the room. She remembers the sticky soot cover floor, and has visions of the combination required to unlock it's enterance. The alter's she sat on waiting for her end. However, any semblance to time eluded her memory.

Anna wasn't aware of the circumstances around her birth. Was she a peasant girl, or a princess? To be honest, she doesn't remember before the temple. One of her caretakers named Jefferos told her before his violent death, " he thought they had wiped her mind." But, he was a superstitious man. Claiming of a coming death, creeping to devour the world. Nance told Anna that she was taken because she was so young, "Ain't nothing to fall back to. Can't chase your past if you to young to have one." She was her favorite, that good Ol' Nance. They had been together for nearly two months, and she made Anna feel like normal child. "Eat you greens! To much bread, you'll grow to be plump. Brush your hair." Even once when Anna caught her crying alone, they exchanged loving words.

Burning SoulsDeep breaths of near freezing cold formed clouds out of the woman's mouth as she tucked the child. The fire was nearly out. She looked over of the emberless logs in their flickering little pit. The girl spoke softly, "Nance its to cold. I can see your breath." "I know, I know just trying to temper the light Anna. Never know whats out there." The words met with feinting smiles. Yet, the woman hushed the young one and used her fingers to slip Anna's eyes closed. One day you'll be far away from all this. Grow up like a regular kid you will. Get yourself a horse to ride, a dog to pet. Maybe I'll even teach ya to sew. Make a fine woman out of ya." Again, her words attempted to make the situation less hopeless, promises of a life just beyond reach. "I don't think that is going to happen Lady Nancy."

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A moment later the feint trot of multiple horses could be heard in the distance. The girls caretaker sprung into action kicking the barren sand dousing the flame. But, it was to late. The entourage had spotted their camp from afar. The woman shook the sleeping child. "We must go, they're here. Run to the tree line, don't stop for nothing." Anna was quick to warn, "We can't go into the forest. I can't control it." Her gloved hand clutched the loosely hanging broche, despite Anna's words the charm pulled her towards the treeline.

In a sense of dreadful haste the pair sprinted away. Four men donning black cloaks chased after. "STOP! Please, don't make me kill her." There was hidden joy in his tone. The captain loved the chase, but his words left a need to be done with the nonsense. With a two fingered point his man understood the order, and fired a warning shot. His warning was ignored. The girls ran in, disappearing quickly in to the dense foliage of the bog. The captain gave out a sigh, before yet again commanding with his signature double fingered swipe. After a loud thrusting kick, and a painful neigh later the point soldier's horse recoiled at the order to chase. After the negotiation the fatty beast began to hesitantly move forward into the dark fog soaked forest. "We can't lose them again. Fan out, find them."






 


Walking the line
"Oi! Water! You mushroom-eared moles!"

The girl just stared at the halfling. "Your a creepy little **** ain't ya." Anna wasn't quite sure what was going on. Yet, a quick lift of an eyebrow, some slow friction between her wrists, Shishia's intent was given light. For a moment Anna stood still not sure if it was a good idea. Unsure if trust was warranted. In a low baritone feminine voice she spoke coldly to her neighbor, "I can... if you need help." She pulled her right glove revealing her disfigured hand, "No prisoners." Her words hung with slight confusion.

"Ya! Water! You mushroom-eared moles! Your all fat too! With **** beards!. Me mum can grow one longer. All ya clannies have similar hairline problems or just you!"


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Last edited by Jat; 10-09-2018 at 03:17 PM.
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  #131  
Old 10-01-2018, 07:13 PM
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Mind if my app is a child? Thinking age 10?

Do you have a map? Looking for her to be from something seaside.

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  #132  
Old 10-01-2018, 08:15 PM
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Here's a map of Rheyfel. The Empty Hills are the area surrounding Dun Dow an ancient orcish stronghold.

 


Unfortunately, there is no ocean nearby or easily accessible to the kingdom.

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  #133  
Old 10-01-2018, 08:47 PM
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What would you say for magic level? Is it rare to have magical powers? What about the planescapes?

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  #134  
Old 10-02-2018, 07:55 AM
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For the most part, magic level is low in the Kingdom of Rhyfel. Most people are just normal lvl 0 peasant types. Exceptions are the priestesses who mostly stay at the temple in Kersdinas, priests of Evelyn do wander the kingdom but aren't that frequent, most knights of the spear are fighters but some are paladins. The Empty Hills would have a bit more 'special' individuals who came here to do their thing away from guards and kings and priestesses.

The planescapes aren't something most people would know anything about. More of a heaven and hell dichotomy in Rhyfel society with some old school faerie stories sprinkled in. Rhyfel has been kind of isolated from the rest of the world for a few hundred years so a lot that happens within the kingdom is more mundane but each of the other three campaigns going on in this world quickly moved out of Rhyfel. But if something fantastical fits in to someone's background, that's fine. One of the other groups has an eladrin warlock who went through a portal to Rhyfel and is in league with her patron, vengeance for the eladrin and her patron's motivations are still being revealed. Wasn't even one of the original plot hooks but I liked the story and I worked to fit it in. Post your idea and I can probably figure out a way to make it work. If its good, its good.

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  #135  
Old 10-02-2018, 02:15 PM
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If you're offering reviews tomplum, I think Shishia is ready for one

Otherwise complete!
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