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  #31  
Old 09-05-2018, 11:23 PM
azuresquirrel azuresquirrel is offline
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I'm interested. I'll draw up a character in the next day or two. I'm looking at a tiefling rogue. I have been playing D&D for many years, but this will be the first time playing 5e. I have done pbp/pbem in the past and know the hazards of inactivity. (Un)fortuantely I'm alswasy connected, even when on vacation.
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Old 09-06-2018, 10:13 AM
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Hello there! This certainly seems like an interesting story, so I'd like to submit my application for it! I remember reading a bit about Juiblex years ago, and for some reason I always liked the idea of the Lord of Slime, even though I've never seen him being used much in games.

As for my experience, well, I've played in one D&D campaign quite a while ago, which unfortunately ended before it could be finished (or even got to the halfway point). Recently I got into PbP games- I'm active in a handful of campaigns, but I still consider myself fairly new to both 5th edition and PbP in general.

I should be more than able to make the 2-3 posts per week; usually I should be able to post daily, although I might be a bit slower during the weekend.

Mhurren Swampstrider
right-aligned image

Race: Half-orc
Class: Cleric, life domain
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Appearance: At just over five foot tall, Mhurren is somewhat short for a half-orc, but shares the broad-shouldered, muscular physique of his orcish ancestors. Wearing a short, unkempt beard and long black hair, this half-orc would certainly look the part of the northern savage, were it not for his clothing- a practical hooded robe, which is nonetheless obviously sewn by craftsmen from the city. Apart from the quality, which would be difficult to achieve with primitive tools, the royal yellow robe, lined with thick bands of deep purple, indicate the use of rare and expensive pigments. The same deep purple threads were used to embroider a symbol shaped like a jawless human skull over his heart. Underneath this robe, Mhurren usually wears a fine suit of chainmail when expecting trouble- and he usually does. The robe is held together with a thick leather belt, almost four inches wide, with a thick, oval shape covering the clasp.

Despite Mhurren's healthy physique, thick dark veins branch out upwards from underneath the collar of his clothes, growing thinner and more numerous on his neck, and disappearing just before they would reach his face. These veins aren't painful, but certainly give the impression of sickliness. This effect is exacerbated by his eyes- while they look like normal, hazel eyes from a distance, a number of blue specks become visible up close, which seem to dance up and down whenever he blinks. Tiny red lumps ring his eyes, further making anyone looking at Mhurren feel uneasy.

Personality: Mhurren is a devoted follower of his goddess, which he claims is a bringer of life, a mother figure whoms only wish it is for Her children to grow strong and spread far and wide, for all to work together in harmony. This kindly aspect is reflected in the half-orc's behaviour- he is gentle, helpful, and always looking to promote peace and cooperation among the civilized people of this world. Those who threathen this peace, however, discover an entirely different side to Mhurren, proving that the blood of the northern orcs burns fiercely in his black veins.

Despite his obvious savage roots, Mhurren nonetheless appreciates fine art. He knows very little about the subject, and less about creating his own work, but that does not mean he won't stop to admire a finely sculpted statue, or the works of master painters. He has taught himself to play the lute a little, although not to a level of skill where anyone would pay to hear him (fortunately, he did rise above the level where people would pay him to stop). Even fashion, to an extent, intrigues him, although his practical side usually dictates his preferences. Those who get to know Mhurren learn that his interest in culture stems from his youth, which he spent in the unforgiving tundras of the north. The cleric does not enjoy thinking back to those days of harsh conditions and the daily struggle for survival. His attempts to learn more of civilized society are, in part, an attempt to distance himself from those days.

In conversation, Mhurren is calm, and happy to remain in the background. A childhood of competing with others for resources, and his status as an outsider now that he is an adult, have made Mhurren accept the fact that he simply isn't going to fit in, and he learned the social skills necessary to improve the matter. Rather than sulk about it, Mhurren instead treasures the friendships that he does have- a bond resembling the tightly knit tribes of his childhood a little more than he'd care to admit.

Mhurren absolutely hates selfish behaviour in others, his patience for such self-serving individuals quickly wearing thin. In his mind, all should work together in harmony, rather than put their own wishes before all else. At the same time he has no love for the strictures of law- while they can be a tool to create order, as a half-orc Mhurren has found that such constraints are usually meant only to improve the lives of the high and mighty, at the cost of the downtrodden. Instead, Mhurren envisions a utopia where only one rule governs all- help one another.

What few know, is that Mhurren does not worship a goddess, but a demoness of great power. His loyalty lies with Zuggtmoy, Lady of Fungi, whoms only wish is for her spores to spread so that one day, they will blanket all, infecting all living things and making them her mindless slaves. Mhurren, deeply affected by the constant conflict he grew up in, wishes for nothing but all conflict to end- and bringing all life under the control of one being would ensure that. His fascination with fungi also began during his childhood- the tundra is inhospitable to plant life, yet fungi thrive, spreading underneath the ground as a vast network of living matter, feeding off things too weak to survive in the cold and dim planes. It never dies- for the network of fungus is one living creature, and so can never die. This is what Mhurren wants for all beings- never-ending growth, never-ending life, never-ending harmony...

Mhurren is smart enough to realize that few would approve of his worship of a demoness. While he himself sees nothing wrong with this practice- all She wants is everlasting peace, after all- he does hide the truth from those he feels would not understand. So, he makes up a lie about his loyalties, realizing Zuggtmoy wouldn't care as long as it helped achieve her goals. He claims to worship an ancient goddess of nature named simply the Lady of Fungi. While many find this odd, few people have ever heard of Zuggtmoy, and thanks to Mhurren's largely beneficial, selfless work, few people think to doubt his words. Of those he helps, he asks them simply to thank the Lady in their prayers each day, offering them a dried mushroom as a relic of sorts. None realize that he dedicates these mushrooms to Zuggtmoy in a secret ritual before handing them out, and by making people direct their prayers at them, he secretly spreads the worship of the demoness he dedicates himself to.

Background: Outlander
- Origin: Hunter-Gatherer. Living in the tundras just south of the northern wastes, Mhurren's job was to search the swamp for edible plants, fungi and small animals. His skill at this activity is where he got his granted name, Swampstrider, from.
- Personality trait: I watch over my friends as if they were a litter of newborn pups.
- Ideal: Greater Good. Mhurren firmly believes in putting the needs of the many before the needs of the few.
- Bond: It is my duty to provide children to sustain my tribe. Mhurren's goddess wishes that life spreads to envelop the world, and as her priest he is bound to aid in that wish.
- Flaw: Stubborn. Mhurren is set in his beliefs, and as an all-encompassing harmony between all living creatures is his end goal, he reacts poorly to anyone challenging his values.

Writing Sample
Mhurren stepped out of the shadowy farmhouse and into the orange sunset, tired but content. He squinted his eyes against the light, taking in the scene before him. Simple yet sturdy houses, townsfolk going about their business, and beyond that were pastures, with farmers busying themselves bringing in the last of the cattle for the night. Their job was done, and so was his own. Well, almost anyway. He pulled the hood of his robe up, hiding his features in the shadows. The half-orc knew that many commoners felt uneasy around one such as he, and he tried to be mindful of their sensitivities. To the humans of simple villages like these, seeing a half-orc was bad enough. Seeing a half-orc bearing the blessings of Zuggtmoy on his face... Well, even though most had never heard of his Goddess, the fungal growths around his eyes certainly seemed to repulse most folk. Unless they needed him, of course.

Case in point, Mhurren thought as the farmer who had fetched him stepped through the door behind him. Still the man seemed to have trouble looking directly at him, even though now the face he wore expressed gratitude, rather than fear. 'My little girl seems to be doing better now, praise the heavens. Thank you, priest. I don't know if we can ever repay you- we're simple farmers, but..'

Mhurren smiled, gently, his broad frame turning towards the farmer, muscular arms crossed. 'I did very little, good man. All I did was allow the Lady to work her wonders through me. If anyone deserves praise, it is She.' Eyes narrowing, he hesitated before speaking again. 'In fact, that is the boon I would ask for you. Remember, in your prayers each night, which of the gods took away your daughter's fever.'

'Of course,' the man immediately replied. 'We will give thanks each day, and make an offering of food to Her every week.' He looked to the ground then, nervously. 'But, we're not rich. I hope that our meagre offerings will not offend Her.'

Mhurren chuckled at the man's unease, slapping him on the shoulder with his strong hand. 'Eat your own food, farmer. The Lady just wants you to be healthy. She would not take the food you need. Just keep her in your thoughts. Actually, I have something that will help with that.' His hands went to his belt, feeling around for the leather pouch he kept there. His fingers opened the pouch and, after a minute of digging, he extracted a small, purple mushroom. 'Here,' he offered, holding the small fungi up to the farmer. 'Put it on a shelf somewhere in your living room, and at the end of each day, before you go to sleep, offer thanks for the health of your daughter, and that of your family. The Lady will hear and appreciate your words. If you like, break off a little piece, and cultivate it. The mushrooms are edible- another gift from the Lady of Fungi, and very tasty.'

'I will do that,' the farmer promised solemnly, taking the small relic from the priest. Then the pair looked out over town, silently watching the sun lower for a few moments.

'What will you do now,' the farmer suddenly asked. 'If you want to stay for a few nights, I'm sure we can-' he was cut off by Mhurren holding up a hand. 'I will be moving on,' he told the farmer. 'Ever forward, ever onward, spreading the Lady's miracles. It is as She would want.' He took a moment to look at the farmer, his eyes serious. 'In this life, we can never stand still. Like the fungi under the ground, we must ever grow, making ourselves greater than the day before.' The farmer nodded, obviously not understanding his words entirely, but too grateful for his daughter's health to argue. 'Well then, off to Kamplinn with you, then?' The half-orc eyed the farmer. 'It is the next town over,' the farmer hastily explained. 'More of a trading post, really, but big enough to count as a village these days. I tell you now, they could use a man with your talents.'

Now Mhurren was intrigued. 'Oh?' he asked, not understanding. 'They have many sick and wounded?'

The farmer laughed. 'No, not really. But a while ago some wizard lived near there.' He shook his head disapprovingly. 'Cursed the town, he did. We hardly ever saw him, but the few times he stooped to talking to someone, he wouldn't shut up about being the descendant of some god or another. Jibbik or some such.'

At the mention of the name, Mhurren froze, his eyes practically lighting up with hate. 'Juiblex?' he demanded, more forcefully, and less kind than the farmer deserved. The man looked back in surprise, not having expected the vehemence of the priest's reaction.

'Yes, that's the one. Silly old story, but he seemed quite serious about it.' Eyeing the half-orc suspiciously, he asked 'why? Does that name mean anything to you?'

Mhurren hardly even listened to the farmer anymore. 'A god of rot and decay,' he said through clenched teeth, more to himself than to the farmer. 'My Lady's nemesis.' Looking at the farmer again, he warned 'take good care of your family, farmer. And remember to praise the Lady of Fungi. Perhaps, that will protect you.' Then he walked away in a brisk pace, never looking back at the farmer.

Juiblex. The Faceless Lord, lord of slime and shapeless things. The enmity between him and Zuggtmoy was legendary. No doubt this was a sign- the demon queen of fungi had guided him here to banish whatever evil this wizard had left upon this world. And he would not disappoint.


Unfortunately I'm out of time for today, so I'll have to write up a writing sample (and spell-check, and grammar-check) for the application tomorrow. I hope that's not a problem! Also, as a flaw I chose stubborn, which isn't actually on the outlander's list. Unfortunately I couldn't really find any one on there which I felt fitted my character concept, but if you'd prefer we stick to the list, I'm sure I could find a way to make one fit .

Any feedback is more than welcome!
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Last edited by DemonSlayer; 09-07-2018 at 09:55 AM.
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  #33  
Old 09-07-2018, 09:56 AM
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Application's done! Thank you for considering it, and like I said, feedback is most certainly welcome .
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  #34  
Old 09-07-2018, 10:43 AM
Raiven Raiven is offline
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Hi there. This will be my first pbp so I hope you will consider my application.

applicationName: Markus Stonewall

Race: Human

Class: Fighter (Champion)

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Appearance:
right-aligned image


Standing tall at six foot, two inches, Markus has wide shoulders, muscly arms and a barrel chest. His chestnut coloured hair is slicked over his head with a cowlick to the side, and he always keeps a well groomed handlebar moustache and a short trimmed beard.

Background: Acolyte
Trait: I idolize a particular hero of my faith and constantly refer to that person's deeds and example.
Ideal: I always try and help those in need no matter what the personal cost.
Bond: I owe my life to the paladin who took me in when my parents died.
Flaw: I am suspicious of strangers and expect the worst of them.

Writing sample
As a child Markus lived in the slums of Blackwater City and had to grow up faster than any child should ever have to. His father left before he could remember and he spent most of his childhood caring for his terminally ill mother. On one of their many visits to the clerics at the temple of Heironeous, Markus met a Paladin named Argus Veil, a man who he instantly bonded with and began look up to as his role model. Argus helped the boy as much as his duties would allow and when his mother finally passed at the age of fourteen Argus took him on as his squire.

Over the next five years Markus trained hard, following Argus’ examples and learning his virtues, but before he could complete his training Argus was brutally murdered. Argus had been working with several members of the city’s council and Markus still believes that one of them ordered his assassination. After two years of searching, he finally tracked down Argus’ killer, a man named Lucius, and offered him up to the temple who ordained that the man should be tried in a fair and just manner. After a drawn out and lengthy trial Lucius was cut loose, much to Markus’ dismay. He still wanted justice for Argus and began to feel that the laws abided by the Paladins just got in the way of doing the right thing.

One night, Markus followed Lucius back to his home and took him by surprise. He tied him to a chair and began to interrogate him, but before he could get the name of the person who had hired him, a fellow Paladin who had been suspicious of his actions burst in and stopped him before he took it too far. Lucius escaped and Markus, although welcome as a patron anytime, was expunged from the service of the temple.

Ever since leaving his home he has wandered from town to town performing odd jobs for people as a mercenary. Although he is just a warrior he still considers himself a Paladin, and serves to deliver his own brand of justice to evil doers and ne'er-do-wells. He was last seen on his way to Kamplinn, following a rumour that Lucius was staying in the town.

Last edited by Raiven; 09-21-2018 at 01:01 AM.
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  #35  
Old 09-07-2018, 07:21 PM
azuresquirrel azuresquirrel is offline
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My application:

Name: Verloren

Race: Tiefling

Class: Rogue

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Appearance: Her slender, sinewy body isn't the first thing that people notice. That would be her pale, solid white eyes, or the four-foot-long tail that she tries to keep wrapped around her body or the pair of horns that protrude from her forehead and form almost a heart. Her concord grape purple hair almost blends in to her ebony skin.
Personality: She is very reserved and always expects to be crossed and betrayed. She is slow to make friends and is quick to end relationships. (I couldn't find a picture that was close to what I wanted. I could try to sketch something, but my drawing skills are lacking.)

Background: Her family had been driven from one town and was moving to another when some travelers found their encampment. Her parents were killed and she was sold to a circus as a sideshow freak. When she became too much of a handful for the owner she was tossed outside of a city where she had to learn quickly to take care of herself.

Writing Sample: Verloren gasps and sputters as she crawls up the bank of the river. She knew she was lucky to survive this last time and it was the one time that she was glad to have a tail. After the circus had dropped her off outside of the city wearing no more than a flour sack, she did find a gang that used her as a distraction while they stole from stores or picked pockets. It wasn't glamorous or even legal, but it was better than being cooped up in a cage all day while people threw food and rocks at her. She got good using her tail to flick the more solid objects back at the animals outside of her cage, and this is why the circus got rid of her. A human boy about 10 years old threw a rock at her and managed to get it through the bars of her cage, where it struck her along the cheek, cutting her. She used her tail to flick that bit of earth back at the kid, aiming for his feet. He tripped and it nailed him in the top of his head. She laughed hard at that. She didn't even feel bad when she found out that the kid was a simpleton now. The owner of the circus told her that she was too much of a liability. The greedy bastard didn't even give her any coin when he dumped her out of the wagon. She guesses she should be happy that they even stopped. There were tales of others "accidentally" falling out of wagons and over the edge of a bridge in to fast moving water, their pockets stuffed full of rocks.

The gang was good to her in general. They gave her food and shelter and better clothes. Initially it was just scraps that they had sewn together, but as she hoarded her take from the various schemes she was able to buy some boots and some inexpensive wool pants that were a deep, dark brown. Her prize possession though was the Thick, black leather jerkin that she wore under the chestnut brown wool shirt. She did have a black wool cape at one time, but found that her tail got tangled in it way too often. When she asked for one of the other women in the gang to help her trim it, she took off with it and there was no way that Verloren could prove that it was stolen from her. When the constables finally decided to break up the gang she was used as an example. Dragged to the end of a dock, tied to a log and tossed in to the river, she was removed from the city like a piece of trash and she is sure that they had hoped that she died like that. As she bobbed down the river she could hear the people laughing and jeering, the current causing her and the log to roll around and around. Once she was out of earshot she used her tail as a rudder and was able to keep her head above water as she sawed the thin ropes against the abrasive bark. With her hands bloody, but free she was able to untie the rest of her body. The log then provided a nice raft of sorts. She must have fallen asleep and slipped off the log as she was unsuccessfully trying to breathe water when she came to. Seeing another town not far down river she decided that was probably the safest option to find food and dry clothing, even if she needed to steal it. Verloren felt in her boot and cursed. The knife that she kept there must have fallen out while she was in the river.

Last edited by azuresquirrel; 09-17-2018 at 03:24 PM. Reason: Adding link to character sheet
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  #36  
Old 09-08-2018, 08:00 AM
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Name: Grong

Race: half-orc

Class: fighter (headed for BM)

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Background: Soldier
Personality Traits: I've lost too many friends and I'm slow to make new ones.
Ideals: I do what I must and obey just authority. Discipline is everything.
Bonds: Those who fight beside me are those worth dying for.
Flaws: I obey the law, even if the law causes misery.

History: Grong's conception was the typical (for his ilk) product of rape, his human mother taken on a raid and died giving birth. He was adopted by a soldier, Garethon, who was a member of a famous mercenary band. The band had been contracted to wipe out a tribe of orcs who were raiding a trade route, and so they did. Grong's adopted father had found him, a child of three, cowering in the forest just outside the orc village after the devastation was complete.
Grong spent his early years with the camp followers, mostly the laundresses and cooks, helping with the chores. He slept in Garethon's tent though, and helped his father with the caring of his weapons and armor. Garethon began Grong's weapon training very young, but took it slowly. He taught Grong to fight with a cool head instead of the emotional style of combat commonly used by the orc barbarians.
When Grong was 13, Garethon gifted him with a battered old breastplate. Garethon said he'd been holding onto it until Grong had grown enough to fit into it. Soon after, Grong began going on certain missions with Garethon on behalf of the band. The two fought side by side, and once even, back to back. Grong loved his adopted father, but also knew in his heart that the mercenary life wasn't for him. He quietly observed the endless cycle of killing - then drinking, gambling and whoring away their pay that was exhibited by most of the band. He knew that life somehow had something more important in store for him. Carefully saving his pay for seed money, as well as equipment from the band's quartermaster, he eventually said an emotional farewell to Garethon and set out alone to make his way in the world. His first job was to guard a travelling peddler for a mere pittance. It was more an excuse to put some distance between himself and the band without having to travel alone.

Character Link: http://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=76944
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  #37  
Old 09-09-2018, 02:10 PM
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Alright feedback for the next back batch of applications. You can reply by secret text, PM or publicly; your choice.













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Last edited by silverfeathers; 09-09-2018 at 02:11 PM.
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  #38  
Old 09-09-2018, 03:38 PM
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Application below! Hope what I've got so far is ok - I've only just started on the character sheet, however.

Wen
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Name: Nerwen (goes by Wen)
Race: Half-Elf
Class: Paladin
Alignment: Neutral Good
Background: Noble

 


 


 

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  #39  
Old 09-09-2018, 04:01 PM
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Updated my application: keep in mind. He’s very innocent. He will definitely be challenged by the world around him threatening change. Fighting is his life, killing is not.

Ideals: by knowing yourself you come to understand the world. By knowing the world you understand yourself.
Bonds: everyone is redeemable, they just need the right perspective. Sometimes that means unorthodox techniques.
Flaws: He doesn’t like death. He’s non-lethal first and has trouble pushing passed that line.

 
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Last edited by Desteplo; 09-09-2018 at 05:09 PM.
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  #40  
Old 09-09-2018, 06:03 PM
azuresquirrel azuresquirrel is offline
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Updated my application to provide more backstory, etc.

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  #41  
Old 09-09-2018, 07:11 PM
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Post on day of the week. I take a Rest on weekends, so probably don't wait for me to respond.

Last edited by J2B; 09-09-2018 at 11:07 PM.
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  #42  
Old 09-10-2018, 08:59 AM
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  #43  
Old 09-10-2018, 10:21 AM
GrandMattress GrandMattress is offline
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Updated the application for layout and to explain the objectively messy pronoun-use.
Thanks for the reminder
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  #44  
Old 09-12-2018, 03:16 PM
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@silverfeathers I think that's my character sheet, and so also my application, complete!
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  #45  
Old 09-12-2018, 09:04 PM
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Working on my app right now
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