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#16
May 5th, 2017, 02:35 PM
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I'm new to the forums but have played many a DnD game in the past (mostly 3e). I'd love to play here, I'd be rolling a Wild Magic Sorcerer who is a bit of gambling addict and likes to let fate decide what happens to him. Is it too late to apply? What is the process here? 
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#17
May 5th, 2017, 09:00 PM
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Do you have a map or source book so we can fit our characters in? I am applying for another Storm King's Thunder, but the DM is already being a little MIA. I would like to just to transfer my app, but need to fit it in the world with names and places.
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#18
May 5th, 2017, 11:11 PM
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All: I have included an outline of what should be included in the application. I had wanted to give everyone a chance to put in what they felt was important (to give me an idea of what everyone felt was important) but there have been some inquires as to what is expected so I listed out the minimum of what I'm looking for.
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#20
May 6th, 2017, 11:56 AM
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 Name: Rancor Vigil Race: Tiefling Class: Warlock (Great Old One) Background: Researcher Personality: bond- Her life's work is to collect and document information about the Great Old One she serves. She must make their power known and establish them as a God if possible. ideal- Knowledge, information is both the path and the goal in life. It grants power and influence, it makes the world around you make sense, it can be used as a tool to any end, and given some time can do far more then anyone with a mere sword or spell alone can. flaw- She is willing to put herself and others in danger for knowledge required. personality traits- Her niche studies have left her somewhat nihilistic in view and pessimistic in social situations. She enjoys explaining things to people but she doesn't expect them to care, but it doesn't matter if they do or not in the long run. She also has a tenancy to hold grudges. Backstory: Rancor was abandoned when she was born, left crying on the outskirts of a town. She was taken in by a kindly human woman named Nephis, despite her friends being worried the babe was as demonic as she looked. Still, Nephis longed for a family she didn't have and so doted on her new child as much as she could. Knowing life would be hard for Rancor, she did her best to arm her daughter with the silvery tongue she would need to sooth the prejudices against her. Things seemed to be going alright until about ten years later when Nephis's shop started seeing less and less business. Rancor tried her best to help, picking flowers and herbs from the nearby forest and selling them to help make ends meat. It was working, too, until a sickness swept through the town a few years later. It weakened her mother far too much to run the shop properly, and still Rancor pushed herself. She manned the shop herself and helped nurse Nephis back to health as best she could. It was all for nothing in the end. At age 15 her mother passed and the town stole the shop out from under her claiming she was not allowed to inherit the property. Embittered to the world, Rancor lived doing odd jobs for a while finding she had a knack for moving academic materials like scrolls, books, and magical components. Her sweetened words certainly served her well, just as her late mother had hoped, and she managed to make enough to start shaping a life for herself. She found an affordable, if cramped apartment and enjoyed reading some of the rare books her trading career gave her access to. While appraising and selling was all well and good and while she could settle down this way she never really forgave the town for stealing the shop out from under her, when she was so vulnerable after her mothers death. Paranoid that they would take everything from her again if they could, the teifling wanted to find a way to sort of defend herself and, as she saw it, protect her future from those that would hate her when words were not enough. She began to seek out something to give her powerful protection. She could become a wizard, Rancor knew she was smart enough, but such training took many years. What if word spread that the local 'demon girl' was learning 'dark sorceries'? They would stab her through the heart before she even managed prestidigitation! Ditto with trying to learn some sort of martial combat. No, she needed to seek something out secretly to give her powers. So as she continued to scrape by as a sort of adjunct merchant, she began to seek out something to give her power. She was never a pious person so appealing to a god was sort of out and she would be damned if she was going to associate herself with a fiend when everyone already expected that of her. Perhaps she would have sought out a friendly fae to take her under their wing, but she associated the fair folk with Elves whom she has yet to really get along with as she finds their haughty, elitist attitudes grating at best. No, she would need to find something... other. Even with her job it took a few years to gather enough information to feel comfortable trying to contact a being from the Far Realm. In truth, considering what little is whispered about such a place, Rancor wasn't sure she would ever truely be ready but if she could contact a being without opening a portal to them, that would be ideal. It wasn't too hard to keep what she was doing a secret and as a person who lives on odd jobs no one questioned why she might have to disapear for a week or so. Certainly no one missed her. Gathering what materials she had, she made her way to an abandoned tower. It was said the Weave was damaged or warped here somehow and she hoped it would make it easier to contact something so foreign. The week went by as a blur. She chanted, attempted to draw upon the power of a strange blackened octahedron, at one point she did not sleep for three days in an attempt to receive a vision. She was beginning to lose hope of contacting anything but in desperation tried one last ritual. This desperation and loss of hope (alone with the other factors) is what finally called the attention of something. A terrible vision struck her of a enormous titan, of a thing that looked as a nightmare goddess of jellyfish, a great blue hued mountain of organic matter floating through the air with long redish-purple tendrils hanging down with the largest turning black and ending in grasping, clawed hands. It first seemed to rage across fractured, unstable terrain with magic running wild, but then loomed out of an ocean near dark gothic villages and finally willing allowed herself to be put to rest from that plane. Everywhere this being went she effected living creatures, changing them and molding them in unexpected ways but also manipulating their personalities and emotions. Fear spread in her wake and people sought others to huddle with which encouraged community. Plants that grew tentacles, wolves that morphed and floated, life at its most chaotic. Rancor had reached out into the blind eternities of the far realm and this twisted goddess had reached back. A pact formed then, carving itself into the Teifling's soul, that in exchange for telling others about her terrible splendor and encouraging her welcome or worship that power would begin to manifest for Rancor. The newly chosen warlock slowly regained a sense of herself, shivering with a cold sweat on the stone floor of the tower. "Wait!" she called as her voice cracked from the strain of her time there, "What can I call you?" Without any further prompt or trauma, a person appeared out of a sudden portal. The two helped each other recover. Rancor helped this new apparent exile get his bearings and he helped stabilize her mind again, giving her something to focus on and recognizing she must have just gone through something harrowing as well. After a day of recovery for the two of them, Rancor sharing her food and supplies for the night, she finally got to asking Alath, who seemed to have come from the roiling terrained plane she had seen, what this being must have been. They seemed reluctant to talk about it, apparently being some sort of horrific legend on his plane of Zendikar. But after enough prompting, he simply called it... "Emrakul" Information requested above: (in secret text)
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~stupid amounts of diplomacy~
Last edited by dracina; May 16th, 2017 at 10:28 PM.
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#21
May 6th, 2017, 06:37 PM
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A llais, a llaw, addaw a wnaf Gwrogaeth a gwasanaeth I deyrn a theyrnas Sangus. Last edited by Miss Critty; May 27th, 2017 at 02:12 PM.
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#22
May 6th, 2017, 08:57 PM
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Race: Mountain Dwarf Class: Ranger (UA Revised) Background: Outlander (with modifications?) Personality Traits: Life is an adventure, so I follow wherever it leads and hold on to my hat. Ideals: Freedom. To live your life as you wish, risks and all. Sometimes you don't miss it until it is gone. Bonds: I feel a need to help when there is preventable suffering around me, or when I can break the chains that bind others in slavery. Flaws: I am competitive. Just a bit. OK, maybe a lot. But I'll beat you to the top of the mountain. Alignment: Neutral Good Appearance: Thurkild is tall for one of the bearded folk, as well as a bit more agile than your average dwarf. He has deeply tanned skin, medium-length, wind-tossed brown hair, and a fairly short beard. His steel-gray eyes have creases around them from squinting into the sun, and a large, somewhat squashed-looking nose sits between them. Thurkild favors dark, earth-toned clothes, and when exploring he usually dons a chain shirt under a thin layer of dark-gray leather. A gray cloak hides the twin axes at his sides, and another pair of handaxes hang from a pair of baldrics that cross beneath his cloak. A pack and a large crossbow share room on his back. Personality Description: While Thurkild retains a healthy dose of dwarven gruffness, he is much more open to and curious about other races than many a dwarf. This curiosity often leads him to start a conversation in earnest with a non-dwarf before he remembers that he ought to be gruff, and, at that point, why bother? In general, Thurkild is more interested to discover something new than to abide by stuffy rules, and more interested in helping than in keeping up an uncaring image. He takes what life gives him, mostly without complaint, and is not terribly afraid of his luck running out- hanging from a sheer rock face, only a piton’s breadth from death, will do that to you, especially when you decide to try it again afterwards! Backstory: The Baldrekr clan has supplied smiths to Citadel Felbarr for generations, and Thurkild was meant to be one of the next generation of smiths. Not that anyone asked him, of course. Thurkild was always a bit odd, for a dwarf. While the other dwarves preferred climbing in and under mountains, he spent whatever time he could climbing on the outside of the mountain. Rather than see how low under the earth he could go, he wanted to see how high he could make it. Thus Torval, his father, should not have been surprised when Thurkild, on his fiftieth birthday, received the new smithing apron, the hammer, and the tongs gratefully- but informed his father that he had no intention of putting all his training to use beside him at the forge. Thurkild left Citadel Felbarr without quite receiving his father’s blessing that day, but he spoke quickly enough not to receive a thrown hammer to the back of the head, either. Thurkild had always been oriented up and out, and so the next few years were spent travelling to various mountains, and then straight to the top of each. He usually traveled on his own, but once in a while he did meet up with other climbing enthusiasts, most of them human. Once he was climbing a peak in the Spine of the World and, right when he hit a precarious outcropping, he saw an orc. At least, he thought it was an orc. Brek turned out to be a half-orc who discovered his love of climbing while trying to escape some prejudiced villagers. Although their meeting was a bit rocky, with Thurkild trying to hurl an axe while hanging on with one hand, Brek and Thurkild actually became friends and companions for a while. Climbing is much safer in pairs, so they were able to tackle more difficult routes together. Still, theirs is not a safe hobby, and the friendship seemed to come crashing to an end when an avalanche carried them away. When Thurkild woke, bruised, bloody, and half-frozen, he tried to search for Brek, but the dwarf had to give up to save himself. He still raises a pint in the half-orc's memory every now and then in a pub. In his travels to conquer the mountains of the North, Thurkild encountered other things to be conquered- including some evils. One mountain village he came across had been completely destroyed by one or more giants, judging from the tracks, and others had been decimated by orcs or goblins. Guilt gnawed at his conscience that he was spending his life and skills selfishly. One day, then, as he was visiting home, he came across a representative of the Lord's Alliance trying to drum up support at Citadel Felbarr. Over a few pints, the rep, a half-elf named Rauvsten, told him story after story of the suffering that the Alliance fought against, and of their many victories, large and small. The hook was well-planted. Thurkild talked it over with his father, who saw this as a better legacy for his son than climbing rocks, and then Thurkild told Rauvsten that he would like to join. The half-elf took Thurkild back to Waterdeep with him for preliminary training as an agent. Accustomed as he was to nature and solitude, with only occasional visits to Citadel Felbarr, Thurkild was quickly overwhelmed by the city. He also had never been a very good student- sitting and learning history lessons and the like was not his strong suite- and thus got antsy quickly. So Rauvsten suggested that Thurkild break up the training with a ‘training exercise’ which would allow him to be useful to the Lord's Alliance immediately. Thurkild accepts immediately, both to escape the huge city for a time and to prove himself worthy of trust by the Alliance.
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I have taken the Oath of Sangus. Last edited by Tahlon; May 8th, 2017 at 12:35 AM.
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#23
May 7th, 2017, 12:37 PM
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Here is my application! Really looking forward to this -- let me know if anything is missing.
Name: Aram Class: Sorcerer (Wild Magic) Race: Half-elf Alignment: Chaotic Good Background: Criminal (Specialty: Burglar) Personality Trait: I would rather make a new friend than a new enemy. Ideal: Freedom. Chains are meant to be broken, as are those who forge them. Bond: I’m trying to pay off an old debt I owe to a generous benefactor. Flaw: When I see something valuable, I can’t think about anything but how to steal it. History: Aram was born a twin (fraternal) to a beautiful elf woman living in (+2 CHA, race), whose father, a nobleman, refused to acknowledge the children as his. His mother had been a chambermaid in their house, and after the birth was cast out from working there. Aram’s mother did the best she could to provide for both the children by whoring, but died when the boys were around 10 due to disease. While Aram’s brother Zed was taken in by monks to join a cleric order, Aram disappeared into the alleys of Waterdeep, taken in by a fence named Oblig who had known his mother (criminal background). Oblig had given the boy a choice: go with the clerics and observe their routines, chants, and rigid structure, or come with me and find happiness your own way, whichever blessed or dark path that takes you. The boy spoke his choice before Oblig could even finishing asking him: find your way, and don’t let others tell you what it should be (chaotic, ideal). Oblig employed Aram as a scam artist, which the boy excelled at thanks to his good looks and natural charm (+2 CHA). This often landed Aram in hot waters or the arms of the local guard, but he was often able to talk his way out these situations (+1 CHA). However, this often placed in an odd situation in that people never knew whether to trust the young boy, and he often found himself only in the company of thieves and burglars alike. The young boy found himself always desperate and aching for friends (trait), trying to ingratiate himself whenever he could. He was also an excellent pickpocketer, which he saw as a good way to feed his hobby of gambling (+2 DEX). So much of life was left up to chance, he thought, that it was fun to test fate from time to time. So little seemed within his control, that the illusion of influencing the dice often calmed him. As Aram aged the scams became more and more complex, targeting rich merchants, investors, and bankers (+1 CHA). However, Aram eventually became a known entity in the backalleys of Waterdeep, and so he Oblig began employing his talents as a burglar. By charming the local servant staff (+1 CHA), Aram gained knowledge of the security details of noble estates: what windows were locked, which weren’t, what doors led to where. Aram used this to break into the estates and fence anything he found to Oblig (+2 DEX). This also meant that Aram ran into the occasional issue with guards, watch dogs, or the lonesome chambermaid returning for private quarters, leading to a few scuffles (+2 CON) or quick escapes (+2 DEX). Things were going well for Aram and Oblig, but one burglary changed everything when, upon touching a particularly ornate-looking chest, Aram’s heart was racing with excitement and bolts of lighting began to shoot off the palms of his hands. Nearly burning the estate down by accident, Aram fled and consulted with Oblig who, afraid Aram had been cursed by someone they’d robbed, hired a cleric to inspect the man. Finding that Aram had a natural, untapped, and rather wild talent for magic, Aram despaired at the fact he would no longer be able to exercise his trade as he lacked any control over his abilities. Oblig, who was approaching retirement and scoffed at the prospect of having nothing to do, spent a great deal of his fortune to hire Aram a private mentor to instruct him on how to control his magical abilities. Knowing he would not be able to repay the vast fortune Oblig had spent by robbing small estates and scamming small scale merchants, Aram set out on the adventurer’s path, desperate to find great treasure and repay his old mentor. At the same time, Aram is in a desperate search to control the wild forces within him, lest he hurt the people he cares about. More importantly, Aram now feels more alone than ever before, and desperately wants understanding from a world that, if it knew his secrets, would see him as dangerous and unwanted. Having run a few odd jobs here and there (the most notable guarding a caravan, where a small spell turned into a fireball and charred a group of robbers), Aram finds himself at <insert location convenient to DM here>, now looking for a new path. STR: 10 DEX: 16 CON: 12 asd INT: 10 WIS: 10 CHA: 17 Hitpoints: : (do we roll for hps?) [b]Armor class [B]: 16 (unarmored) [b]Initiative [B]: +3 Skills proficiencies and other things:
Saving Throws
Spells
1st Level
Gear
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#24
May 7th, 2017, 02:14 PM
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@ashramsoji: Your first 3 attempts at posting your application somehow got popped as "Moderated Posts" by the system. I went ahead and deleted them as they contain the same material as your post that got through.
-zev Also, note that we have character sheets on site. Upper right hand corner of your page, use the Tools drop down menu to find "My Characters".
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#25
May 7th, 2017, 10:05 PM
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I've updated the applications table. When you feel your application is complete, please let me know.
I had a PMed question about starting level. Just so everyone knows, here was my response: [Starting level] depends on the players. There are two options: Level 1 (with an introductory adventure that grants levels up to level 5 at an accelerated rate) or simply starting at level 5. If it is mostly newer players, I will likely start at level 1. If the group is mostly experienced players, they'll have the option to start at level 5.
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#26
May 7th, 2017, 10:10 PM
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Unless you think I missed something, I'd call my application complete.
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#27
May 8th, 2017, 09:53 AM
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#28
May 8th, 2017, 10:17 AM
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Hello, all. I've slowly been making my way back to RPGX. I took a long hiatus starting last year in August or so.
Regarding the experience questions. I didn't secret them a I don't mind people knowing, but can put them secret still if you want. 5e: Almost none. I was in two games here on RPGX. One died, the other I was forced to bow out of when I began my absence. PBP: About... 15 years? 13? I started back on a small forum called Narbondel Online. It was freeform in Forgotten Realms. Since then have done several different sites, including 8 years on this site. Other Modules: That... I honestly am not sure. I mean there have definitely been a few games I was in that I knew where modules. But some I think were designed from the ground up by the DMs. I never cared to find out which they were, as long as the story and characters were good. RP Experience: As for the application, I have to sit down and figure out all the 5e stuff that applies, but I'm looking at a Duergar Paladin of Berronar Truesilver named Eragunde Firebrew. She'd also hold a deep reverence for Shandilar. Will try to work through all the 5e FR stuff this week (on PTO), and get an application up before it ends. Name: Magnus Steelchant Race: Dwarf Class: Bard (Valor) Background: Gladiator (Entertainer. Some Elements of Folk Hero) Alignment: CG Deity: Haela Brightaxe Personality: The devotees of Haela Brightaxe are known as Bloodmaidens, and they are students of battle first and foremost. Magnus is as fond of battle as any of his fellows, and in his present line of work it is plentiful. He has a cheery and pleasant demeanor, quite unlike most dwarves. When not in battle, he displays a disciplined, and thoroughly crafty, mind. He has no compulsions regarding honorable combat, as willing to kill a foe through traps as through combat. He holds great fondness for his wife, despite the circumstances of their current separation. ~ Bond: It is my duty to see every dwarf armed and trained for battle. Even if I must cross all Faerun to do it. ~ Bond: Even though she tried to kill me, I still love my wife. Everyone has spats. ~ Ideal: Joy. A life not lived for pleasure is a life that sorely misses out. ~ Flaw: I've little regard for those not trained for battle, and unwilling to be. ~ Trait: Honorable combat is another way of saying dull-witted. I fight smart. And messy. ~ Trait: I love a good insult, even directed at me. I'll love breaking your nose in a friendly brawl too. ~ Trait: I always have an extra weapon on hand to give to someone without. Backstory: Born to a priest of Marthammor Duin and a tavern keep in a town with no other dwarf, Magnus was never quite certain where he belonged. His mother would often leave during his childhood, sometimes for years at a time, but his father maintained that she would also return to them, that the Watcher over Wanderers was merely borrowing her for a time. And return she always did, with new tales of uncharted passes, new ales, strange acquaintances, and, of course, battle with orcs, wolves, or whatever else sought to keep her from her journeys. Magnus fed on these tales with avarice, quickly mastering the retelling and sharing it with any visitor to his father's inn. Before long, simple retellings were not enough, and he would act out pitched battles that became more grandiose, and violent, as he continued. During one such performance, a brawl broke out and Magnus discovered his love for battle firsthand. He soon began organizing a fighting ring with other lands in town, a brawl to celebrate each holiday. And though he often lost, he never grew tired of the fighting. No one was surprised when he left after coming of age. The fights with fists and clubs that he organized were not the battles he longed for. The call of adventure struck him the same as it always had his mother, but he looked forward not to mapping unexplored lands but facing down hordes of enemies and emerging victorious. It was a slow process. Not long after he set out he was set upon by bandits, including a dwarf who's ferocity in battle he had never imagined. He didn't best her, but nor did she kill him, and when a week later he came across her again, she said that she'd left the highwaymen with plans to take up with a mercenary company in Sundabar. He agreed to accompany her, as he was interested in assisting in the training of their recruits as well as training more himself. While in Sundabar he spent time not with the mercenaries organizing gladiatorial games (all voluntary), and performing in several. It still failed to satisfy his lust for battle, however, and after an argument with Durana escalated into her throwing a greataxe at his head, he determined what he was missing in his life was that giddy fear that follows behind close encounters with death. He needed true battles, not a performance. He packed his bags and agreed to give his wife some time apart while he sought out his own desires and she hers. Name: Durana Forgebane Race: Mountain Dwarf Class: Barbarian (Or possibly Battlemaster Fighter) Background: Criminal (And, more recently, Mercenary Veteran) Alignment: LN Deity: Vergadain, also reverent of Abbathor, Clangeddin, and Haela. Personality: An unrepentant mercenary, Durana shares her people's tendency to greed. She is highly pragmatic, abandoning her criminal lifestyle more because mercenary work payed better than for any regret or guilt. The dwarf trusts slowly, having a cynical disbelief in altruism altogether. Nonetheless, she has her own brand of honor, and believes that hard work is a far more satisfying way to earn her coin. ~ Bond: My loyalty is for sale, but once bought is unwavering. I never leave a job. ~ Bond: I'll kill my husband if he dies before I get my hands on him again. ~ Ideal: Dedication. You work for your fill. There are no favors and I'm no begger. But I'll not take from an honest dwarven worker either. ~ Flaw: When the choice is money or friends, I'll ask whether they want a silver platter for your head. ~ Trait: I go by Forgebane because I've sundered the work of many a smith. I enjoy breaking things. ~ Trait: I never accept a deal without haggling. There's not a one who isn't looking to take advantage. ~ Trait: My fury is like the earth: slowly riled, but there is none more devestating. Backstory: Born in the Spine of the World, Durana was a mostly unremarkable child. Her father trained her as a smith and it seemed an unremarkable future lay ahead of her. She was not a great smith, merely decent, and among her people there was no shortage of crafters. But other talents soon became apparent. It was in her 63rd year that she first broke a blade, a spat of jealousy over a rival who had baited her for a full year. She stole and shattered the weapon upon her own anvil. The shards she returned, but the pommel stone she kept, immediately leaving her home for the surface world, determined to find a craft in which she could excel and earn her wealth. It was with no reluctance that she took up with a group of bandits plaguing the Silver Marches. She found in battle a craft that few could match, for she fought with a ferocity and strength that seemed impossible. For years she plagued the Marches in her new home, until a disagreement over the distribution of wealth and a chance encounter with a wandering priest of Haela prompted her to leave the company behind and join a band of mercenaries known as the Bloodaxes. Their terms, she found much more favorable. And far more enriching. While among the mercenaries, she aided the priest in training new recruits (though he was not among the company himself), eventually marrying him. After a... disagreement, she has decided to seek her own work apart from both him and the mercenaries she has called family.
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Ilthryn Dahl Tinkerings Last edited by LoveBug; May 25th, 2017 at 05:02 AM.
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#29
May 8th, 2017, 01:49 PM
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Do you have any issue with me using an application I've written for a previous Storm King's Thunder game that died on the starting blocks and didn't get past the first page of the game thread (DM seemed to disappear)? I was rather fond of the character idea and background, and it was specifically written for an STK game, so it'd obviously still apply here. In fact, it was in the same game as Crow a few posts up there! ^
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I have taken the Oath
DMing Escapades of the Lords of Fanghill Last edited by MercurialJack; May 8th, 2017 at 01:51 PM.
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#30
May 8th, 2017, 04:42 PM
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Name: Traugott Torunn Race: Mountain Dwarf Class: Bard Age, Alignment: 78, Lawful Good Background: Inheritor (not sure which type yet probably more knowledge of a craft than a physical object) Trait: I stretch the truth for the sake of a good story Ideal: The stories, legends, and songs of the past must never be forgotten, for they teach us who we are. Bond: I idolize a hero of the old tales and measure my deeds against that person's Flaw: I'm quick to assume that someone is trying to cheat me. Backstory: WIP
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Space disc is totally canceled Space swords is totally canceled Space luge is also canceled And all other events are pending...
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