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  #1  
Old 04-06-2014, 05:29 AM
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Jasontheswift Jasontheswift is offline
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Secret and Public your sheets please.


Last edited by Jasontheswift; 04-20-2014 at 01:09 PM.
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Old 04-13-2014, 05:01 PM
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Togot Togot is offline
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Snowflake Fireeyes
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Name: Snowflake Fireeyes
Race: Half-Elf
Class: Druid all the way
Gender: Male
Age: 28
Alignment: Neutral Good
BackgroundLife hasn’t been easy for Snowflake, and his name certainly hasn‘t helped much. Not only was he born a half-elf, but he drew the genetic short straw by being an albino. Skin as white as snow, and blood red eyes make Snowflake stand out like an ever burning torch. The fact he grew up in a small human village that frowned on such unions was the final ingredient to make his life a miserable one. Teased by the other children, shunned by the adults, Snowflake grew up a lonely child.

His only companion was his human mother. Sadly she was little comfort to him. Obliviously optimistic past the point of reason, his mother simply laughed away any problem that befell her or her son. Her obtuse perspective only caused Snowflake to draw into himself further, finding he had no ally. Rather than play with other children, He spent retreated to the nearby wilds where he found that the animals cared very little for his odd appearance. There he found his refuge.

Perhaps it was his elf heritage, or simply an escape from society, but Snowflake found he had an affinity for nature and wildlife. He learned to live off the land, track animals and learned their ways, and to simply enjoy the sound of leaves and grass blowing in the wind. It as during these reprieves from society that he met Gump, a gnome druid who took a liking to the troubled youth and tried to provide guidance and comfort.

Gump taught Snowflake many of nature’s secrets, and the half-elf spent a year aiding his mentor and father figure to tend to the forest, healing wounded creatures, repairing any damage done by woodsmen or poachers, and even fighting off a few unnatural creatures. The experience helped Gump induct Snowflake into the druidic order as an apprentice.

Gump trained Snowflake in the use of several weapons, but the young Half-Elf took a liking to spears. His teacher felt this was symbolic of the Youth’s habit of keeping others at a distance

The most memorable adventure the two had together was hewn a Worg took over the local wolf pack and got them riled up. It took a combined effort on the part of the two druids, but they managed to fell the foul beast, with Snowflake delivering the final blow. Gump felt that the boy had come far enough to be on his own. He entrusted a wolf pup to the half-elf, its mother and siblings having been killed in the battle, and went on his way.

It was quite the devastating blow when news arrived of Gump’s death in the capitol of Garast. Snowflake chartered a boat with what money he had, and set out to see his only friend put to rest.

PersonalitySnowflake is a very embittered individual who keeps to himself as much as he can. He dislikes being around people, especially humans, though his feelings are a bit more complicated when it comes to elves. He has had very little contact with them, and holds them in a sort of nave mysticism. He has never met his father, causing him to feel rather conflicted. He resents his old man for never visiting him, but deeply yearns for a connection, holding onto the feint hope that the elves might accept him when the humans did not. Unfortunately, his deep fear of rejection, of having that dream destroyed, prevents him from seeking them out.

Despite his angsty outward attitude, Snowflake is actually a very sensitive soul who can’t stand to see others suffer, especially the weak. He despises bullies, loves animals, and is lost in regards about what to do with his delusional mother.

RoleI intend for Snowflake to be the voice of pragmatism in the group. He isn’t nave or idealistic, but rather cynical and jaded. He’ll point out any flaws in plans, hopefully so we can correct them. He will also be attuned to nature, concerned with animals, but not obsessively so, and look for nonviolent/destructive solutions to problems.

He will be unfriendly, but not hostile, to humans, friendly but shy with elves, and indifferent to just about anyone else.

He will also render aid as much as he can, though he will probably complain about it.

In short, he’s someone who, despite of himself, will run back to help a wounded individual, even if they are human, while a horde of angry orcs are charging at them, and say, “Great, get me killed too why don‘t you.” rather than just leave them behind.

I would like him to have chances to come out of his shell during the game, seeing that not all humans are jerks, maybe even finding a few friends.

AppearanceSnowflake has skin and hair as white as snow, and blood red eyes. He often goes to great lengths to hide these features when in public, covering up with a cloak and even going so far as to wear a mask when he can, though that often just makes people suspicious of him. He keeps his hair short, as his stark white locks often betray his identity, and he almost never smiles.

Features: I love mysteries and problem solving.

Quote: “Leave me alone.”
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Last edited by Togot; 04-13-2014 at 06:13 PM.
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Old 04-13-2014, 05:12 PM
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Jennifer Jennifer is offline
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Basic DescriptionName: Iska
Age: 21
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Class: Barbarian
Alignment: CG
Proposed Progression: Barbarian in perpetuity



Image


AppearanceDolled Up:
Iska appears clean and groomed, her face painted with the artwork of her station and clan - as the daughter of the chieftain is expected. Upon her brow rests a bronze circlet denoting her station in life, upon her wrists and ankles various beads of colorful stones and about her waist a leather and fur dress.

In Battle:
It would be easy to say Iska fights like a demon lives within her, that even the Valkyries hide in fear of her prowess in battle. Too bad it isn't true - despite what the songs of her people say. No, while it is common for the blood of her enemies to be on her face, and she has a penchant for avoiding moderate to serious injuries, she fights just as hard as the other men and women who defend her village - no more, no less. In battle she wears the same leathers as any other, carries a confiscated Orcish Battle-Axe (a very pretty one as well!) and most importantly, a round shield made of ironwood to protect the village's archers.


PersonalityWhen Iska faces a new situation she can quickly and honestly say whether she knows the answer to a specific question or not. She knows what she knows and, more importantly, she is confident in that knowledge. Iska comes across as very decisive, original and insightful which leads most people to accept her ideas through force of her own will power and self-confidence. Iska does not seek out, nor does she enjoy the spotlight and, thus, may often decide to keep her opinions to herself if the topic of discussion does not hold much interest for her.

Iska may be called a perfectionist, as she frequently enjoys improving upon ideas and systems she comes in contact with. She is naturally curious but tries to remain in the rational territory no matter how attractive the end goals might be. Every concept that is generated by her mind, or reaches from it, needs to pass the cold-blooded filter of "Will this work?" This is her coping mechanism and she is well known for applying it, ALL - THE - TIME, questioning everything and everyone in her mind.

Her personality seems to have an unusual ability to combine both decisiveness and vivid imagination. When other panic, she can formulate a plan (brilliant or not) and execute it by thinking rationally and evaluating the situation. She strives to asses all possible situations, calculates strategic and tactical moves, and develops a contingency plan or two as well - if she has time.

Iska dislikes rules and artificial limitations. All such rules and artificial limitations are questioned by her rational mind, and open to reevaluation based on her previous life events and anecdotal evidence from cultural history.

As a consequence of her personality, Iska finds it very difficult to handle romantic relationships - although she often tries to form them. She is more than capable of loving and taking care of other people, but she is completely clueless on how to attract and cultivate such relationships. To make this worse, the relationship between her mother and father was not an ideal one, thus she has no life experience from which to draw conclusions from for her rational mind to evaluate.


Quote"You are not entitled to your opinion. You are entitled to your informed opinion. No one is entitled to be ignorant."


BackgroundIska was born to "Bjorn" Trygve, chieftain of the clan. Chief Trygve was nicknamed "Bjorn" for his penchant to jump into battle wearing nothing but a bearskin and fight with two swords like a maniac. Bjorn, of course, means Bear. Iska was also born to Fridhild, wife of the chieftain, a woman with no vade. Like all marriages at the clan level, Fridhild was given to Bjorn to arrange peace between warring factions. To Fridhild it was an insult; she was a princess (second princess, but princess none-the-less) and was married to a lowly clan chief of one village! Hero or not, it was unheard of to dress a woman of stature in bear skin, leather and stone jewelry. As such, she worked steadily against her husband's interests to undermine him - a husband who worshipped her and gave her the best of what he had.

Thus it was throughout her childhood, mother attacked father, father attempted to placate mother until they drove little Iska from the tent! While out of the tent, little Iska would wander the woods (forbidden by both mother and father!) and try to befriend the animals. Eventually she was able to coax a few squirrels and chipmunks to her and eat from her hands - never too many, and never birds, but she kept at it. Meanwhile she grew older and more daring. One day she found an injured grey wolf, young and left behind by the pack. Her instincts told her to kill it, or leave it, but instead she freed it - letting it nip at her fingers - and brought it home to mend it to health. She trained it to howl on command, and to stay put, even to attack lengths of rope so they could tug on either end. Sasha, as he came to be known, frequently bathed her face with her tongue and a wonderful time was had between both.


Iska and her father went to the market on the seventh occurrence of the day of her birth. Iska was told she could have anything in the market, but she could only choose one and she could not take all day, as they had a meeting later. The two of them were in the King's Market Square (which was ovular, not square - but that is a rant for another day!)

Iska fleeted from stall to stall. She gazed upon gold and silver, small furry animals (which she was sore tempted to adopt, how hideous to lock up those poor animals in cages,) there was artwork galore, even minor magical items (the trivial kind, such as mood rings, aphrodisiacs, a fake unicorn horn, and other such items.) It was at this table she saw it. It was beautiful! It was small enough to fit in her palm and was blue with light blue ribbons flowing through it. When she held it, it felt cold and heavy. She dropped it on the table and flew to her father's side, bouncing up and down and dragging him (unceremoniously!) over to the table.

He looked at it, and said My dearest Iska, this is worthless. He of course meant that it had no intrinsic value. It is a blue lace agate, are you sure? After looking into her eyes of malachite, he had his answer. For the whole trip and the long walk home she polished the stone by rubbing it with her hands until it almost glowed! To her it was precious - to the world it was worth 7 copper.


Mother and father eventually split, when mother was caught trying to poison father. Law was to behead her, but father could not fathom life without her in the world and let her go. Meanwhile, father traded an hour of wandering the wood for an hour learning from him. Iska played at hating it, but inwardly loved all the lavish attention she got from her father. Her lessons were mostly revolving around how to settle disputes between hostile parties. Such as one man who claimed another had killed and eaten a sheep of his, or an unfaithful wife. This taught Iska how to be diplomatic and empathetic. Other training sessions included the use of the bow, Lochaber axe, short sword, longsword and crossbow (although very rare and hard to find, the clan did have a few. Instruction was more in how to defeat these weapons, instead of how to use them.) She was taught mending, cooking, weave craft and medicine by her nurse (now that mother was gone, father insisted she have a female role model in her life and hired a nurse to raise her.)

Iska's teachers focused on the importance of vade both in battle and out. How vade was important for both leaders and followers. How vade was the gift a woman gave herself and that none could take vade from another by force of arms alone. That her vade influenced the vade of her clan, her family and herself. That one day she would marry and her vade would either help elevate her husband and family or dissolve the vade of her husband and family. Without vade, even the gods would turn their eyes from you and allow you to die a meaningless death - unless you worshipped the daemons that is.

Then the day came. Earl Haarkord (leader of the Orc, neighboring her clan's land) was offended by the existence of her clan. Her father mustered all the youngmen and youngwomen he could find for war, while sending a couple of the elders (to infirm to fight anymore) to appeal to the king to settle the dispute between the two warring clans. Iska implored her father to send her to the king instead to beg for assistance. She knew the king lusted after her, as he did all the comely young maidens in the land, and felt she could use this against him to convince him to interfere. Her father, on the other hand, felt she would be trapped there "for her own safety" and thus forbade her to go - instead saying she was needed for the defense of the village.


It was her first battle, and Iska was terrified! There she stood, in the midst of 15 men in a group, waiting for the orc to sally forth and attack. Upon her belt a morning star - given to her by her father's brother and said to be blessed by the gods themselves (after all, he had never lost a battle!) and upon her arm a shield that felt like it weighed as much as a man! How was she supposed to carry such a thing, let alone move it in the way of sword and arrow and axe?!?

Battle was engaged, orc fired arrow after arrow that hammered upon her shield - many breaking through the light wood. Iska felt for sure her arm was breaking as each arrow thudded into the wood, the leather straps grinding into her arm, but she managed to keep the shield up, lowering it only when it was her side's turn to fire shafts of death. Then it was that orcs on wolf back charged into the formations, throwing men and women about like dolls of yarn. Iska tried to keep her shield, but it was so heavy and cumbersome, she had to drop it. Rolling to her feet she found herself face to face with two orc, one wielding a very wicked looking, double bitted battle-axe, the other a rusted old sword. Quickly she grabbed the morning star and brought it crashing down on the skull of the second orc with both hands and heard a very satisfying thump as he hit the floor. With black ooze and green blood dripping from the end of the morning star she tried to use it to block an attack with the axe which sent the weapon flying and leaving her disarmed. She backed and backed away from him, narrowly missing swing after swing of his battle-axe until she finally tripped over the corpse of one of her compatriots. Landing on her arse she felt a stick under her hand. In the flash of an instant she realized it was perfectly round, which meant it was an arrow shaft. Grabbing it she lunged shoving the pointed end into the chest of the orc, luckily missing the ribs and directly into the heart of the beast. The warm blood and ooze ran over her hand as she shoved for all she had strength for, before the corpse fell on her, trapping her under it.

What felt like days later, the corpse was lifted by her fellows and she squirmed out from under and using a hand, scrapped the muck off her as best she could. Then, noticing the axe on the ground, took it. A trophy of the worst day of her life! But my wasn't it heavy!! For moons afterwards, she practiced with the axe, building her strength and stamina - determined that if she ever saw battle again, she would not tire, her shield would stay strong. Especially after she was informed the shield she was carrying was a child's shield, a mere 7 pounds! Hefting a man's shield, she felt the difference and knew it would be better protection, but far too heavy for her to have carried that day in the meadow.

Then it was, years later, the shieldmaiden found herself in pitched battle once again, fighting off the piratical attack of her neighbors to the east who desired more farm land because they could not keep their breeding under control! Swords flashed and danced, arrows loosed, and Iska - battle-axe in hand - stood her ground cleaving any who got close. The enemy turned to retreat - usually the sign the battle was over, but not today - Iska raised her axe, with one hand, high into the air, spun it lazily to catch the light, and dropped it down to point at the fleeing enemy. Suddenly a hundred barbarians gave chase, over running the retreating enemies and slaughtering all that they came in contact with. Those that eventually escaped hopefully learned to stay within their own lands!

After the battle, Iska presented herself to her father. That was when she learned she had been given away in marriage to another clan who her father wanted to become allies with. It was all arranged! The unfairness of it all shuddered through her like a fist beating on a wall.
Upon hearing the news Iska and her father got into a row, items were thrown and words said. Finally, Iska stormed out of the home and into her beloved forest for the night. In the morning her father attempted to patch the fissure between them, but Iska was not speaking to him. For the entire trip to the dock, father implored his daughter to forgive him (but of course, arrangements had already been made and could not be broken without further bloodshed,) but she ignored him the whole way.

Merely a few days after learning of her impending marriage, she found herself scalling the ramp into an oversized boat - hardly strong enough to be used to deliver troops to battle, let alone be considered for war. It's flimsy mast would be ripped asunder by the first good strike of a lumberjack. The timbers beneath her feet felt as if they bowed under her light frame (they did not, but you will never convince her of that!) as she strode across. Just as her father was about to leave he shoved a package into her hand. Inside was a bejeweled dagger, coated in silver. "Gift for husband." All he said as he strode off the deck.


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Children already know that dragons exist!
Fairy tales tell children that dragons can be killed!

Last edited by Jennifer; 04-13-2014 at 07:09 PM. Reason: Insert picture
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Old 04-13-2014, 05:20 PM
GenericNPC GenericNPC is offline
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BasicsName: Alyra Nochana
Age: 19
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Class & Progression: Wizard 3 -> Wizard 7 / Master Transmogrifist 3 -> Wizard 10/ Master Transmogrofist 10
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Personality/AppearanceStudious and reserved, Alyra tends to be hesitant to put herself into danger. Where she once might have charged head on like a warrior a childhood disease and then later a disastrous ending to a quest have left her almost overly cautious. She also exhibits a marked phobia of the undead. Additionally, she has recently gained mild precognitive powers which she is still getting used to. As such, she sometimes has difficulty separating her visions from reality.

When it comes to dealing with other party members, Alyra can usually interact fairly well with other people from lower class backgrounds or who have had schooling in the mystical arts. Simply put, she can generally see them as being similar to her. However, that attitude can change drastically when the other individual is a melee combatant. Simply put, it is still one of Alyra's greatest regrets that she wasn't able to grow up to be a knight. Watching others get to fulfill that dream when she is stuck having to constantly studied and focus on arcane writings to even be useful in a party causes her to be more than a bit jealous. Worst in her mind, though, are the people who have no sense of style or apparent skill in combat, but simply wade in and depend on their physic, something that was stripped from her, to keep them alive. To her, that seems almost like a desecration of her childhood dream. As such, Alyra loathes barbarians as well as fighters who rely on brute force instead of finesse. Additionally, she is somewhat resentful of high-born individuals as it was her parent's lack of wealth that left her practically crippled.

Alyra is a frail woman with blonde hair and a pale complexion belying a great deal of time spent indoors. She wears a simple, tan outfit bound together with sashes.


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Last edited by GenericNPC; 04-13-2014 at 07:03 PM.
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Old 04-13-2014, 09:15 PM
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Cenobar Cenobar is offline
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Name: Taleswapper
Age: 32
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Class & Progression (to atleast lv 10): Bard3 (Bard6/Warchanter4)
Alignment: True Neutral

PersonalityNot your typical gregarious, boisterous bard. Taleswapper's manner reminds most of the patient, sedate, elderly schoolteacher which is remarkable for one so young. Very calm cool and collected, even in battle, Taleswapper acts as the voice of reason in most groups. When bickering and in-fighting begin, he'll calmly get everyone's attention and recite a single line from a poem, novel, or other great work that shows them the folly of their ways.


 


Background "It all started when I was a youngster of 7. 'I go to school the youth to learn the future.' My village was situated in the wilds of Flaradel, way beyond what men call the civilized areas of Garath. As such we had little to no concourse with the larger world outside our tiny insular region. Until the Taleswapper came. Oh what stories he could tell. Not only fictitious tales of dragons and damsels and brave heroes charging valiantly to the rescue, but real life events that, though hundreds of miles away, still affected our village. Taleswapper was from whom we first heard that the orcs were rising in force. Taleswapper told us that Glendlesfork had the plague, so we knew not to go to market there. He had an almost magical quality about him that captivated an audience like none other... and I wanted to be just like him.

Once when I was alone with him I asked him why his name was Taleswapper and not something like Bob, or Reginald, or even something silly like Peneloquas. He told me something that shocked me to my core. 'Son, when you become a Taleswapper you leave everything behind, even your name. I had a name once and it was a good one. But it's not who I am now. Now I'm Taleswapper.' Startled I asked him how do I become a Taleswapper? 'To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night follows the day, you can not then be false to any man.' It was then I realized the enormity of his position. While it might be easier to lie to someone to save their feelings, if you don't tell everyone the truth, then how can they trust what you say? 'I am a firm believer in the people. If given the truth, they can be depended upon to meet any national crisis. The great point is to bring them the real facts.'

So at the tender age of 13 I left my family and I left my village behind to travel with Taleswapper and learn what it meant to be a truthteller. He informed me that he was a bard of sorts even though he didn't sing. He began to drill me in all the bardic knowledge that he had accumulated over the years. I could tell you that the mayor of Tynestone had a fondness for orcish mead. Lady Aruthiel of Eaglemyr had an illegitimate son with the town blacksmith that she raised as her own. The goblin clans of the Talon Mountains had not ventured forth in many years leading many to believe that a goblin war was inevitable. Laird Rupert had an extra toe on his right foot. His sister was actually half-elf. The list went on and on. As we went from town to town, village to village, farm to farm, the knowledge grew. 'Real knowledge is to know the extent of ones ignorance.'

The years stretched forth and on my 20th birthday we arrived in Timlath. To a lowly country boy the city of splendor stretched my imagination to its utmost limits. I was in awe at the people, the buildings, the NOISE! Everywhere I looked I saw something new, something unexpected. Taleswapper saw my amazement and chuckled. 'Well son, I see I've neglected your education in certain regards. What's say we stay in the city for a few months. Sound good to you?' Sound good? It sounded great! Taleswapper introduced me to a myriad of people. Nobles, commoners, shopkeepers, thieves, all flowed together like a human collage. 'A great city is that which has the greatest men and women.' It was in Timlath that I began martial training. Like Taleswapper said, 'If you know both yourself and your enemy, you can win numerous battles without jeopardy.' He told me to choose what weapon felt most comfortable to me. Well I thought about all the miles that we walked, and how I felt after a long day's walk. When I picked up a set of daggers, Taleswapper smiled at me. 'Many a small thing has been made large by the right kind of advertising.'

So the months went by and I became more proficient with my fighting, but I didn't allow my oratory to suffer either. I told tales in the market square for spare coins. I frequented the taverns and docks adding to my collection of stories. All the time I spent with Taleswapper was spent both in training and in friendship. Then came the day that we received a royal summons. Gerald the Just requested the Taleswapper's presence for information. Taleswapper brought me along to meet the court and present me before the nobility. Gerald required knowledge for one of his numerous business dealings in the kingdom. Apparantly one of the lords was charging what Gerald thought an exhorbitant amount. Taleswapper informed him that due to a recent kobold infestation, production in the local mine was down by as much as half. That's when I piped up with something I had heard around town. I told Gerald that while that mine's production was down, another mine in nearby Cerovia was reporting a surplus after running into bonanza ore. Taleswapper looked at me askance as Gerald thanked me heartily. After we had departed Taleswapper turned to me and said, 'The student has become the teacher.You knew a piece of information I did not. Congratulations...Taleswapper.'

With the blessing of my mentor, I set out to distant lands to swap stories with other people and cultures. Traveling to areas previously unexplored, I learned much and taught much. I stayed 5 years with a tribe of barbarians learning their history and songs. Their shamans opened up their homes to me and I studied their chanting and oral traditions as they performed their rituals. All this time I was learning I kept dreaming of Taleswapper and Timlath. 'A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.' So I have decided it is time for me to return to my teacher, my mentor, my friend. I have much to tell him as I'm sure he has much to tell me. I shall seek passage on a boat and return to the capital city I once loved and see if I can learn to love it again. 'We stand today on the edge of a new frontier, a frontier of unknown opportunities and perils, a frontier of unfulfilled hopes and threats.'"



FYI: All the lines in green are actual quotes from actual people...and I will be continuing it in game too so bonus points if you know where it's from without googling it
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Last edited by Cenobar; 04-13-2014 at 09:23 PM.
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