[D&D-5e] Strixhaven: Academy for the Gifted

[Onward]

Oh, I'm also interested too. Especially if any class are open for picking.

[savoylen]

Originally Posted by penbeast0

Expressing interest. Looks like fun!

Awesome... please let me know if you have any questions!

[savoylen]

Originally Posted by Onward

Oh, I'm also interested too. Especially if any class are open for picking.

Nice!

[penbeast0]

Rather than a mage, I was thinking of one of the odd classes of non-spell caster that I've never tried (or even seen). Does anyone have any comments on either of the following classes -- good or bad?

Soulknife

Echo Knight

[Mrjoegangles]

WIP

Thron Deepburrow Thron Deepburrow "I uncover what was buried, to make sure it remains." Race: Dwarf Background: Archeologist Class: Wizard (Abjuration) Alignment: CG Description: A thick but well maintained mass of matted auburn hair tops the grim faced but handsome young Dwarf. The reddish hue continues to his tightly styled beard, interrupted only by an interesting streak of white as if old age had slashed his facial hair with a blade. His eyes continue that strange juxtaposition as they scream of years and hardships far beyond what his youthful face presents. Well worn, but well maintained clothing adorns the sullen man, the outfit screams function and serviceability.   "What a difference five years make." Thron reminisced as he approached the sunken archway of runes pressed deep within the walls of the ancient structure. "Father would have given anything to see me standing here, following in his footsteps. And all it cost him was everything." Fragments of memory flashed through the dwarf's mind, painful, inescapable reminders of times long lost. Of people long lost. Memories Best Forgotten Dwarves mined well, dwarves dug deep. It was a stereotype, but one well earned for the Deepburrow clan had long hunted the spoils and mysteries buried in the deep dark depths of the earth and stone. And Thron's father, Helod Deepburrow, was the Dwarf who uncovered those spoils, who cataloged the treasures of civilizations buried beneath the mountains, who discovered the past. An archeologist and historian of great renown, Helod's services were always in great demand as clan's across Faerun called upon him to help excavate the ruins they uncovered. It was a noble and well respected position that Helod held, one he wished to pass onto his son Thron, dragging him across the continent to learn the scholarly trade. And drag he had to as the stubborn and obstinate Thron had other dreams in mind. "Enough of your history old man. I am sick of learning about civilizations long dead and buried, of battlefields forgotten, I seek to discover what lies in the here and now." Sullenly kicking the small rock in front of him across the dig site, Thron looked more a child of twenty and not the young man of forty that he was. As he turned his gaze from the hunched over back of his father Thron looked at the ruins before him. Revealed after an earthquake had collapsed several tunnels and opened up several more, this ruin was from a Dwarven Clan thought lost, an opportunity that Helod had immediately jumped upon, taking his reluctant apprentice with him. "Again? When will you forget about this adventuring nonsense my boy?" Small brush in hand the large and imposing dwarf used quick and precise strokes to push aside the debris and dust revealing the runes underneath. "Hmmm, warding runes. Cracked though, perhaps the earthquake. But what were they keeping out? Were they keeping out?" Thron's father continues to mutter but now the words are unintelligible as Helod loses himself to his thoughts. Sighing, Thron crosses his arms and waits, knowing that only time will bring his father back to the present, to continue the conversation as if minutes or even hours hadn't passed. Shaking his head the imposing patriarch turns once again to his son with clear eyes. "You are young boy, there is plenty of time, centuries in fact, for you to have fun. Join a mercenary company when you are 80 like I did, good coin and a fine experience for a lad. But you need to start learning your real trade now." Growling in frustration Thron stands up a punches the nearest wall, flakes of brittle old sediment crack and fall upon the earthen floor. "Maybe that is my real trade father. Maybe I want more than old broken ruins and dusty forgotten graves best left buried." A plume of dust enveloped the area, causing the young dwarf to cough uncontrollably as he stepped back from the crumbling wall and towards his father who was still examining the broken rune covered rings of stone beneath him. "So many wards, interlocking circles, what does it mean? A shield? No... a prison." Looking up Helod's eyes widen in fear as he stares at his son, eyes suddenly flickering to over the young dwarf's shoulder to the wall he had punched just moments ago. "By my forefather's what is that?" An ancient and archaic archway stood impressed into the rockwall, it's structure made of a different material than the stone around it. Under the flaking sediment from centuries of being buried lay deep carved runes from an unknown eldritch language. "We leave now boy." Grabbing his son Helod wastes no time, pushing the young dwarf forward before an argument could even be verbalized. "Now. Grab what you can we need to leave this place." In all of his years Thron had known his dad to be many things, but never frantic. Taking his words to heart the young lad stuffed what lose gear and artifacts lay amongst the packs and stuffed them inside, shouldering both backpacks as he worked at a hurried pace. Realizing his dad had not joined him Thron turns back to see the him standing still by the warding circles in the ground. A purplish light seems to be eminating from the ground there. A look of terror filled Helod's face just before a flash of energy passed over both dwarves casting everything into darkness. "Run!" Shaking his head to banish the memories Thron reached deep into his backpack to pull out his father's old journal, his journal now. The old cracked leather spine felt solid in his hand, real. Centering him, bringing him back to the present as he stared at the familiar archway from his nightmares. The fate of his father, the failures of their past still weighed heavily on his mind. Thron doubted his would even forget the lessons of this ruin, this prison. Even now, years later, Thron cannot be sure what was released when that earthquake broke those ancient seals, but he knew now the truth in his father's work. History did need to be uncovered, rediscovered, examined and cataloged. Because it was in the past that mistakes were buried and forgotten, waiting to be released upon an unsuspecting present. For years now Thron had spent his time in study, to determine how to uncover that which was lost, and keep sealed that which must never be released into the world. Thick calloused fingers gently brush the runes on the archway. The unusually dark stone seems to glow red as it traces the outline of his fingertips, the rune thrumming with ancient power. "Five years. Five years of study, of research. Five years trying to learn how to assemble the knowledge to keep the chains that bind these unspeakable forces strong for centuries to come, five years and only a rumor to show for it. A rumor and a name." Tracing a series of runes, the young dwarf examines his notes and begins a deep guttural chant as the symbols being to glow, brighter and brighter with more and more power as each new runes is outlined. As the last etched symbol is traced a shimmering surface covers the opening of the archway, a translucent bubble showing another place, another world, another plane. Stepping up to the portal Thron places the journal carefully back amongst his gear as he tightens the straps to his bag. Stretching his arm out, he hesitates for a second before placing his arm inside the Gate, feeling his body rush through the cosmos as he utters the name of that which he sought. "Strixhaven."

Level 1 Sheet Starting Stats: 16,9,14,15,12,8 Level Source Feature 1 Dwarf +2 Str / +2 Con 1 Dwarf Speed 25 (unmodified by armor) 1 Dwarf Languages: Common, Dwarvish 1 Dwarf Darkvision: 60ft 1 Dwarf Dwarven Resilience 1 Dwarf Dwarven Combat Training: battleaxe, handaxe, light hammer, and warhammer 1 Dwarf Tool: Mason’s Tools 1 Dwarf Dwarven Armor Training: Light, Medium 1 Dwarf Stonecunning 1 Wizard Hit Points 8 (Max) 1 Wizard Weapon Pro: Daggers, darts, slings, quarterstaffs, light crossbows 1 Wizard Saving Throws: Int, Wis 1 Wizard Skills: Investigation, Arcana 1 Wizard Equipment: Dagger, Arcane focus, scholar's pack, spellbook 1 Wizard Spellcasting 1 Wizard Arcane Recovery 1 Archeologist Skills: History, Survival 1 Archeologist Tool: Cartographer’s tools 1 Archeologist Language: Draconic 1 Archeologist Equipment: Map to ruin in wooden case, bullseye lantern, miner's pick, traveler's clothes, shovel, two-person tent, 25gp

[Fatgunn]

WIP Name: Throom Shadetusk Race: Loxodon Background: Guild Artisan Class: Druid Alignment: Lawful Neutral Description:

Build Stats(w/racial): STR 15 | DEX 14 | CON 17 | INT 8 | WIS 17 | CHA 9 Level Source Feature 1 Loxodon CON +2 WIS +1 1 Loxodon Speed: 30 1 Loxodon Powerful Build: Count as one size larger when determining carrying capacity and the weight you can push, drag, or lift. 1 Loxodon Loxodon Serenity: Advantage against being charmed or frightened. 1 Loxodon Natural Armor: Unarmored AC=12+CON 1 Loxodon Trunk: 5ft reach. Can lift 5 times STR. Can't wield weapons or anything requiring precision. Can be used as snorkel. 1 Loxodon Keen Smell: Advantage on Perception, Survival, and Investigation checks involving smell. 1 Loxodon Languages: Common, Loxodon. 1 Guild Artisan Skill Proficiencies: Insight, Persuasion 1 Guild Artisan Tool Proficiency: Brewer's Supplies 1 Guild Artisan Language: Dwarvish 1 Guild Artisan Equipment: Brewer's Supplies, Guild Letter of Introduction, Set of traveler's clothes, 15gp 1 Guild Artisan Guild Membership: Able to call on guild for help. 1 Druid HP: 8+CON 1 Druid Armor Proficiency: Light, Medium, Shields, No Metal 1 Druid Weapon Proficiency: Clubs, Daggers, Darts, Javelins, Maces, Quarterstaffs, Scimitars, Sickles, Slings, Spears 1 Druid Tool: Herbalism Kit 1 Druid Saves: INT, WIS 1 Druid Skills: Medicine, Nature 1 Druid Language: Druidic 1 Druid Spellcasting 1 Druid Cantrips(2): Shillelagh, Thorn Whip 1 Druid Spell Slots: 2 1 Druid Spells Known: 4

[Hal Hammerhand]

One with Nature: Name: Alaric Brighteyes Race: Human Class: Druid (circle of the moon) Alignment: Chaotic Good Background: Outlander Personality traits: -I was. in fact, raised by wolves. -I feel more comfortable around animals than people. Ideals: -Change - Life is like the seasons, in constant change, and we must change with it. Bonds: -I suffer awful visions of a coming disaster and will do anything to prevent it. Flaws: -I am slow to trust members of other races, tribes and societies. Appearance: Alaric is a a little over six feet talltall and somewhat muscular, leaning more towards an 190 lbsathletic build due to his living in the rough. He has yellow-gold eyes that peer out from under brown eyebrows. He has tanned skin from more time spent outdoors and shaggy brown hair that flows out from under his owl-head hat. He is often smudged with dirt from the forest with occasional blood smattering around his mouth which he tries to clean off. He wears torn, yellowish trousers that have gotten far too short on him and now barely cover his knees. He wears rabbit furs wrapped with leather cords around his feet, calves and forearms with a brown wolf-pelt tied around his torso and waist in a tunic fashion. The owl hat upon his head has glass-like stones in the eye sockets to resemble it's eyes but is the skin and feathers from an owl. He carries a spear with a haft of oak and a tip of flint and in his belt, a dagger fashioned from a deer's antler and the soft fur of a raccoon. Personality: Alaric is practical and always on alert, his eyes always clear and scanning for threats. He smiles easily around animals but sticks to a curt, no-nonsense expression around people. He enjoys the simplicity of life lived as the animals in the forest do and tends to steer clear of technology but he doesn't view it as a bad thing but sees everything people have done as the way nature intended people to be. He sees nature everywhere and tends to stay near the more greener bits, preferring the silence and solitude of the woods. He spends the better part of his free-time sleeping in short naps, the longer his eyes are closed, the more risky it is that he will suffer from the dreams and visions that have plagued him for quite some time. Backstory: The young boy who carries the name Alaric, was born to a somewhat poor family, his father was a forester and his mother did what she had to, scavenging off the land and the nearby forest to provide for the family. Alaric was born under a bad omen, the whole village and his parents knew that one day, the darkness would take him but they didn't know when. Originally Posted by Memories: Beatrice was walking her sweet boy, Alaric by the edge of the wood, one frosty morning. They had to see if they could find a cluster of the hardy winter mushrooms or else they would have very little to eat for a time. She couldn't let her husband come home to an empty pot over the fire. She had tied a gold string to Alaric's waist. The elder wives of the village had told her to do so, if she were to venture close to the wood, the creatures of the darkness could not sever a gold string. The young boy had found a twig that he was playing with, flicking snow about and having a good time, ignoring the encroaching shadow that came crawling up to the edge of the tree line. Beatrice tugged on the string, "Alaric, Honey, come away from the edge please." but it was already too late. The terrible creatures that inhabited the darkness of the wood, terrible human-like shapes, black, hollow eyes like pits of shadow, gray-brown skin stretched over spindly bones like hide stretched on a rack. Bony fingers wrapped around little Alaric's child-like arms and legs then waist, slowly pulling him into the shadow of the wood, many bodies coalesced into a seething mass. Beatrice was helpless against it, she had known this day would come, despite the gold string, despite the prayers she furiously whispered to herself, begging the evil spirit to release her son, to give her just one more day, one more hour, one more minute. The darkness was deaf and unfeeling, incapable of compassion or love the way a mother felt toward her child, it only felt hunger. Even the darkness has enemies that can fight back, a pack of wolves happened upon the seething, twisting mass of ghouls that carried the boy helplessly through the wood. They sensed something of the boy's potential and despite the wolves' natural instinct to avoid a fight against something that wasn't food, this was somehow suddenly important to the pack. The fight was grueling and after losing two wolves, the ghouls were chased away and the boy was wrested from their grasp. The boy should have been scared, considering the situation, out of the frying pan and into the fire but there was something that told him these wolves would not harm him. The wolves circled little Alaric, sniffing and rubbing against him with their soft fur coats, putting their scent on him. After a few moments and the boy had regained his ability to walk, the wolves led him to their den and summarily brought the carcass of a small dear for the boy to eat. At first, Alaric hesitated but one rumble of his tummy reminded him just how hungry he was. Life went on like this for some time, Alaric learned the ways of the wolves and how to live in peace with nature, even through it's harsh lessons. Many bumps and scrapes, scraps and hunts, the boy endured but he came to learn the true magic of the forest. His magical gifts, literally coming to him in times of need. It wasn't until his teenage years that his pack brought him close to the human settlement where he had been born and had lived in as a toddler. He didn't want to venture too far from the relative safety of the forest but he did see his mother, she had only changed a little in the twelve years he had been gone but he still recognized her gentle face and once she even peered into the woods, right where Alaric hid. At first, he thought she could see him but her eyes wandered away eventually, likely a fleeting memory of the horror she had experienced so long ago. It was enough, his concern for the wellbeing of his kind that brought about the visions and dreams he began experiencing. Nightly, he dreamed of a terrible cataclysm, the sky rending open and tearing the ground asunder to swallow up whole towns and cities built of stone. He dreamed of fire that swept across the land, burning the forests with flames so hot that it didn't discriminate between living plants and dead ones, turning all to ash in it's wake and scorching the ground so that nothing could grow. This vision presented a danger to both worlds that Alaric might call home but every dream ended the same way, a serene glade, hummingbirds flitting two and fro as leaves rode the air currents to the ground and between a stand of trees, a portal that shimmers like water in a lake under a moonlit sky. As he wandered the wood, feeling as if he could find the mystical glade that was in his dreams, he meditated on the dreamscape as he wandered. By some miracle, Alaric stumbled into just such a glade and the shimmering portal that awaited him. He knew this to be his destiny and didn't falter. He shouldered his pack, hefted his spear and marched into the portal only to find himself in another plane of existence. The very air was saturated with magic of all kinds and he felt it like dew upon his skin. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do here but knew that this is where he was supposed to be.

Breakdown: Ability Scores: Str 12 | Dex 12 | Con 12 | Int 11 | Wis 16 | Cha 11 Level Source Feature 1 Human Ability Increase +1 to all stats 1 Human Speed: 30 ft 1 Human Languages: Common and 1 Druid 1d8+con mod 1 Druid Armor: Light, medium and shields 1 Druid Weapons: Clubs, daggers, darts, javelins, maces, quarterstaffs, scimitar, sickle, slings, spears 1 Druid Tools: Herbalism Kit 1 Druid Intelligence, Wisdom 1 Druid Skills: Nature, Perception 1 Druid Equipment: Dagger, Spear, leather armor, explorer's pack, Druidic focus 1 Druid Language: Druidic 1 Druid Cantrips: Poison spray, Produce flame 1 Druid Spells: Cure wounds, Entangle, Healing word, Thinderwave 1 Druid 2 spell slots 1 Druid Spellcasting, Wisdom, DC 15, Attack +5 1 Outlander Wanderer: You have excellent memory for maps and geography and you can always recall the general layout of terrain, settlements and other features around you. You can also provide fresh food and water for yourself and up to five people each day. 1 Outlander Skills: Athletics and Survival 1 Outlander Tools: Pan flute 1 Outlander Language: 1 1 Outlander A staff, hunting trap, Animal trophy, Traveler's clothes, belt pouch containing 10 gp

[Yoshimi]

Character Information Name: KiM FortiTude Race: Warforged Background: Outlander Class: Barbarian (eventually will choose Path of Wild Magic, if I make it to level 3) Alignment: Chaotic Good Description: The facial features of this warforged have been fashioned into an expression of grim determination,with somewhat finely-crafted cheek structure and narrow eyes that glow serenely. The frame is tall and relatively sleek, and the armored exterior is wrought of bronze, including an intricate ponytail of bronze filament. KiM's surface is adorned with tribal tattoos that have been etched in black, and is draped by a colorful, coarsely-woven toga.   The portly human raised one beetling gray eyebrow and glanced up from the parchment to gaze skeptically at his interview subject. "Says here your race is halfling." Following a very slight whirring noise that may have been the warforged analog of throat-clearing, the figure seated opposite said in a sincere, mellow voice, "Yes sir. I am of the Fastieth Tribe of the western Talenta Plains." "Hm." Mage Emeritus Aethelbald Greaves covered a smile with his left hand. He was easily amused, but less easily surprised after forty years of treating with all manner of denizens of the Planes. He gathered himself and glanced back down at the application. "Adopted…surely?" The prospective student stared back blankly, but the voice that came in reply was unexpectedly sorrowful. "I was animated by Cannith House three years ago, in the Year 995, and dubbed Killing Machine 42. I was designed to assassinate strategic targets. But something was wrong with the magic that bound me to my body." The white glow in the eyes of the warforged burned brighter for a moment, causing Greaves to lean back despite himself. "Sometimes I saw visions and began to ramble. Sometimes I produced auras of heat or electricity. They said my behavior was erratic. They said I killed one of my handlers, but I do not remember. They were going to dismantle me. But my body turned vaporous, and I fled the Forge." The old Mage interrupted, "A very exciting history. But in your letter, you wrote your class was barbarian. Not usually a magic-using, eh, profession?" The warforged continued, more matter-of-factly now. "No. I evaded capture and escaped to the Mournlands. Something about the atmosphere there suppressed my erratic magic. There were others like me, there, in a secret colony. War machines who had escaped from their makers. I stayed with them for a while, and they helped me to choose my self-name, to show that I was free of my maker: KiM FortiTude, as you see on the letter. But these other warforged were bitter and hateful, and talked of violence and vengeance against their creators. Maybe it was the error in my forging, but such hate is not in my nature. So I left them, and passed out of the Mournlands to the east, and the Talenta Plains." Greaves tapped his fingertips together. "Where I presume you took up with the halflings." "Yes. They attacked me at first, but I fled rather than harm them. Later I felled a tribex and brought it to their campfire. They let me stay, and I served them as a hunter and warrior for many months, until they treated me as one of their own. During the dry season migration, I completed the Adoption Ceremony." KiM's eyes flashed again. Greaves waited for a moment, but the warforged remained lost in thought. The mage prompted, "But something changed, or you would not be here." With a note of reluctance, the applicant agreed, "After a year out of the Mournlands, some of the erratic magic started to return. I was becoming a danger to those around me. I was ready to exile myself back to the Gray Mists. But our shaman told me she knew of a place beyond the visible world where they could teach me to control these powers before they cause further harm. This school." Greaves snapped the fingers of his right hand, then responded in a slightly incredulous tone, "This shaman, she wouldn't be named…Pielou, by chance?" KiM nodded. "Yes, Master Greaves. She sends her regards." Now it was the old wizard's turn to become lost in reverie. "My word. Pielou the Gyrfalcon. Hah. Maybe someday I'll tell you…" He grinned thinly. "Getting ahead of myself. Well that's not a bad reference, young…say, eh, are you a male or female?" The warforged raised both hands palm upward, as if shrugging. "I do not possess the organs or the urges that…" Greaves raised his left palm to cut the answer short, "All right, all right. If you're accepted we'll figure out the lodging situation." He glanced down at the letter. "We're just about done." Looking back up, he held the hopeful warforged's gaze. "One last question I ask applicants. Do you think you would declare for one of our colleges?" The barbarian considered for a moment. "I only know a little of them, and hope to know them better. Shaman Pielou told me stories of her time in Witherbloom. It sounded adventurous." The Emeritus Scholar snorted. "Thanks to Pielou it was. The curiosity of halflings seems to outweigh their fear. Not that I've gotten to know many as well as her." He steepled his fingers. "That's all for now." As the warforged stood to leave, the Mage concluded with, "You've given us a lot to think about. You should be hearing soon.''

Character Build Starting Stats (with racial mods): STR 18 (+4) | DEX 16 (+3) | CON 18 (+4)| INT 10 (+0) | WIS 14 (+2) | CHA 14 (+2) Level Source Feature 1 Warforged Con + 2, Any other + 1 (Str) 1 Warforged Speed: 30 1 Warforged Constructed Resilience (advantage on save vs. poison; resistance to poison; no need for food, drink, breathe; immunity to disease; no need to sleep, immune from sleep) 1 Warforged Sentry's Rest: Long rest requires 6 hours of being inert, can still see and hear 1 Warforged Integrated Protection: +1 to AC, 1 hour to get in or out of armor with which proficient, armor can't be forcibly removed 1 Warforged Specialized Design.: one skill (Nature) and one tool (Herbalism Kit) 1 Warforged Language: Common, Halfling 1 Outlander Skill Proficiencies: Athletics, Survival 1 Outlander Musical Instrument Proficiencies: Drum 1 Outlander Language: Goblin 1 Outlander Wanderer: Excellent memory for maps and geography, can always recall the general layout of terrain, can find food and fresh water for self and up to 5 others each day. 1 Outlander Equipment: A staff, a hunting trap, a trophy from an animal, a set of traveler's clothes, and a pouch containing 10gp 1 Barbarian Rage: 2/day 1 Barbarian Unarmored Defense: AC 10 + DEX Modifier + CON Modifier 1 Barbarian Hit Points: 1d12+CON modifier 1 Barbarian Armor Proficiency: Light, Medium, Shields 1 Barbarian Weapon Proficienty: Simple weapons, Martial Weapons 1 Barbarian Save: STR CON 1 Barbarian Skills: Perception, Intimidation

[Treble83]

Application Name: Paige Sletten Race: Wood Elf Background: Entertainer Class: Monk Alignment: Neutral Good Description: At 5'4" and 125 pounds, Paige is not a very imposing figure. To the untrained eye, she might appear to be an unassuming, albeit pretty, little Elven girl. She has long blonde hair, copper-toned skin, and big blue eyes. While not very good for absorbing blows, her flowy clothing is designed to allow her to move quickly and freely.   Quiet Violence History: Paige was born and raised in the city of Waterdeep. Her parents owned a dance studio, and she was brought up dancing ballet, for over 13 years. As a teen, she competed in several talent shows (usually funded by, and intended for, nobility). Aside from dance, She was considered a tomboy while growing up, and loved the outdoors; her hobbies included riding horses and fishing. Around the age of 16, she began to be regularly bullied by a group of girls. The bullying started with verbal attacks, such as mockery. However, they quickly grew emboldened and started getting physical. Upon learning of their daughter's ordeals, Paige's parents immediately reach out to a Monk by the name of Pedro Diaz. He had a studio similar to their own, except with the purpose of teaching martial arts to defend one's self. Thanks to a lifetime of dance, Paige quickly discovered that she was a natural martial artist. With Pedro's guidance, her bullying problems quickly came to a halt. Once Paige's training became more advanced, Pedro told her about a secret college that would help her to hone her skills to unimaginable heights. With her parent's blessing and Pedro's recommendation, she's finally been accepted to Strixhaven: Academy for the Gifted.   Character Build Starting Stats: STR 7(-2) | DEX 20(+5) | CON 8(-1) | INT 12(+1) | WIS 15(+2) | CHA 16(+3) Level Source Feature 1 Elf Weapon Pro: Shortsword, Longsword, Shortbow, and Longbow 1 Elf ASI Dexterity +2 1 Elf Skill Proficiency: Perception 1 Elf Feature: Fey Ancestry 1 Elf Feature: Trance 1 Elf Language: Common, Elvish 1 Wood Elf ASI Wisdom +1 1 Wood Elf Speed: 35 1 Wood Elf Feature: Mask of the Wild 1 Entertainer Skill Proficiencies: Acrobatics, Performance 1 Entertainer Tool Proficiencies: Drums, Disguise Kit 1 Entertainer Equipment: Drum, The favor of a secret admirer (a rose made from coral), a belt pouch containing 15 gp, a costume. 1 Entertainer Feature: By popular demand 1 Monk Hit Points: 8 HP (MAX) + Con Modifier (-1)7 1 Monk Armor Pro: None 1 Monk Weapon Pro: Simple weapons, shortswords 1 Monk Save: STR DEX 1 Monk Skills: History, Stealth 1 Monk Feature: Unarmored Defense. 17 AC 1 Monk Feature: Martial Arts 1 Monk Equipment: Spear, Explorer's Pack, Ten Darts

[Silent Rain]

Alright, I think my application is done.

[Cheshire]

Name Zatt: http://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=90030
Race:Kolbold
Class: Sorcerer (Wild Magic)
Personality: Zatt is nervous around others, he does his best to stay out of sight and is more likely to try to pick your pockets than ask for what he wants. He only refers to himself in the third person. Can’t help but “worship” larger creatures with scales, especially if they have white scales.
Appearance: A short white scaled kolbold, Zatt wears loose fitting robes that are way to big for him there is a pocket inside the robe that is filled with random trinkets that he has been collecting.
Background: Urchin

Personality Traits: I hide scraps of food and trinkets away in pockets, I eat like a pig and have bad manners.
Ideal: I am going to prove I am worthy of a better life, We have to take care of each other because no one else will.
Bond:No one else should endure the hardships I've been through,
Flaw: I will never trust anyone fully other than myself, It's not stealing if I need it more.

 

Backstory Zatt used to be part of a large kolbold tribe called FrozenClaw that worshiped a large white dragon named Avarion. One day Zatt had gotten into a little fight with one of the other tribe members, with out meaning to, he cast a firebolt at another kolbold killing him. The rest of the tribe became scared of him and avoided him at all costs. Later Avarion called the entire tribe to gather. Everyone was worried when Zatt joined them. At first nothing happened and everyone thought it was going to be ok. Unfortunately one of his tribe members did not want Zatt to be there and struck him. As he did so, there was a popping sound and a large number of the kolbolds changed from a pure white color like the dragon they all worshiped to a deep blue color. Seeing his subjects change color before him enraged Avarion. The large dragon lunged forward and killed every kolbold that had turned blue.

That was the last straw for the tribe elders. Zatt had become to dangerous. He was quickly exiled and fled to the closest city. There he learned to steal and do what he needed to survive. Much like when he was with the tribe, he would randomly cast spells and cause odd things to happen all over the city. There was a particular occasion when Zatt was attempting to steal some scraps of food from a merchant. He was caught in the act and ran as fast as he could. In a panic, the kolbold fled down an ally; sadly it turned out to be a dead end. Turning to to face his pursuers, Zatt started to cast a spell. As they entered the ally they heard a pop and all they could find was a potted plant sitting where the white scaled sorcerer was standing.

One day while he was digging in a garbage heap for food he over heard a small group talking about an academy for spell casters. The small kolbold followed the group until they had gathered others and summoned a portal. Zatt didn't care where it lead he had to follow them, jumping through with them he ended up at the academy and he wandered around in wonder. While he was wandering he learned that in order to get into the academy the students had to have an acceptance letter. Not having one the kolbold decided to take one. After a few tries he managed to swipe one from one of the perspective students. After changing the name and with a skip in his step, he ran to the front door to try his luck. Maybe he could learn to control the raw magic that flowed through him. Then maybe his tribe would welcome him back...or maybe he could become chief.

 

It had been a few days since the small kobold had eaten. Times were getting desperate. With his stomach growling, Zatt slipped into the shadows hoping someone would drop any scrap of food. Time passed and there was little that the young sorcerer could find.

Zatt's ears twitched as he heard the distinct clink of loose coin. "Zatt find coin?!" The white scales streaked through the shadows between the towering buildings. He was searching for the source of the noise. [b}"Zatt find, Zatt find!"[/b] It did not take long for the kolbold to track down the two fat men who's coin purse was making the noise.

Trailing the two, Zatt darted toward them. His tiny claw cut string that was holding his prize. With a skip in his step he took off away from the two men. "Zatt take, Zatt take!" Sadly for our hungry friend, he was a little to loud in his celebration. The original owner of the coin purse turned to see the white scaled lizard taking off with his money.

"Stop thief!" The thunder of their boots were quickly catching up with Zatt. Darting into a nearby ally, the kolbold was faced with a dead end. "Oh no! Zatt caught!" He turned and waited for the two men to enter the alley. This was it. He would meet his end.

The desperate sorcerer thought quickly, his mind racing try to figure out what his next step was. Eyes darting frantically, head turning side to side. He had no choice but to fight. Narrowing his eyes, Zatt pulled out a small piece of leather from inside a pouch. Holding it tightly he began chanting and moving his hands in intricate patterns. A glowing cooking pot formed on top of his head and glowing beetle carapaces appeared on his chest. As soon as the mage armor spell completed, there was a loud pop followed by a flash of light.

The two men entered the alleyway with swords drawn. "We have you now you little rat. Come out and get what is coming to you. There is no place to run." They stood there for a moment searching for what should be easily spotted white scales of the kolbold. However, all that could be seen was a small potted plant resting in the middle of the alley. A white tulip very much out of place, but they paid it no mind. Waiting there for a moment the two moved on. As they left there was another pop and Zatt reappeared in place of the potted flower. "Zatt wins!"

OOC changed my backstory a little to get a letter of admittance. Or at least try. Also added RP sample

[Onward]

Sarah Herosworn Name: Sarah "Herosworn" Featherbean Race: Human Background: Charlatan Class: Rogue (Arcane Trickster) Alignment: Neutral Good Description: Standing at 4'5" and weighing only 110 pounds, Sarah has quite a petite frame. She doesn't look at all strong or the least bit threatening, to be frank she looks just like any other youngster out from highschool and about to start entering into college. However, she has an air of confidence or maybe that's just brazen arrogance. History:   Dear Diary, Tis I, Sarah Herosworn, that's right, hero of Daggerdale. Also the girl that defeated a dragon with her bare fist, saved several princes and princesses in just a week, and stole a lich's hand and made it as a trophy. That's who I am, and my next quest is to mark my heroic valor at the esteemed Strixhaven University. ... That's the story I'm going with, Gods, why did I go through this plan. I spent all that time creating a fake identity and forging a fake application mixed in with my achievements. And I didn't even study and get any prep work for those Admission Trials. Why I am still writing down my thoughts here?... ... Sorry about that outburst, had a minor panic attack. Now, what should I start talking about. Hmm, maybe I should start with why I'm doing this, give myself a reminder of my goal and to clear my head. That's what my therapist always say. Anyways, ever since I was a child, I always was never physically strong but I always had the aptitude of a scholar. My father didn't approved, he'd always wanted a kin that would be a world renowned warrior or hero just like him, he was disappointed when I didn't meet his expectations. I was always the bookish type, always sticking my head to learn histories and folklore of great heroes, my father always gave me a look of disappointment. For years, I strived to make him, I worked hard on my swordsmanship but I could never progress further, so instead I decided to pick a scholarly pursuit so that in the end he could finally be proud of me. For years, I've unearthed ancient fossils and discovered hidden histories of the sword coast, yet his resolved did not change. I've met all manner of well known philosophers, even the great wizards like Elminster or Mordenkainen yet he was not proud. When I finally achieved my membership to become a sage of Candlekeep, all my friends celebrated my success and threw a party. Yet my father never showed up, he was not proud of me... he didn't love me. When the academy for the gifted gave me an admission slip, it was in recognition of my achievements and efforts, but I tore it up because it doesn't matter anymore. Everything I did was for my father and for him to love me and yet, his never gonna do it cause I disappointed him... Sorry for being too emotional, I haven't visited my therapist in a while. Anyway, now I remember, I made this entire plan where instead of just entering the university with open arms, I'll just enroll myself with a new identity. My father would never notice his own daughters exploits, so if I go by the exploits of a stranger, maybe he'll finally be proud of me. Anyways, the reason why I'm heading to Strixhaven University is because it's the academy where students from all across the multiverse itself attend to gain a degree in magic. If I become notorious in the college, everyone in the multiverse will know who I am, my father will have to see that... And also cause I really, really, really want to get that degree. I confess, I regretted tearing up my admission slip and have been finding ways to get a new one cause I was embarrassed to tell people what I've done. This was the only thing I came up with at the time of writing this. Great to get that off my chest though, good thing no one will read this.

Character Build Starting Stats: STR 9(-1) | DEX 12(+1) | CON 10(+0) | INT 16(+3) | WIS 14(+2) | CHA 16(+3) Level Source Feature 1 Human +1 to all ability scores 1 Human Speed: 30 1 Human Language: Common, Elvish 1 Charlatan Skill Proficiencies: Deception, Sleight of Hand 1 Charlatan Tool Proficiencies: Disguise kit, forgery kit 1 Charlatan Equipment: set of fine clothes, a disguise kit, signet ring of an imaginary duke, and a pouch containing 15gp 1 Charlatan Feature: False Identity 1 Charlatan Feature: Favorite Schemes (I shave coins or forge documents.) 1 Rogue Hit Points: 8 HP (MAX) + Con Mod 0 1 Rogue Armor Pro: Light Armor 1 Rogue Weapon Pro: Simple weapons, hand crossbows, longswords, rapiers, shortswords 1 Rogue Tool Pro: Thieves' tools 1 Rogue Save: Dexterity, Intelligence 1 Rogue Skills: Investigation, Perception, Performance, Persuasion 1 Rogue Equipment: rapier, shortbow and quiver of 20 arrows, dungeoneer's pack, leather armor, two daggers, and thieves' tools 1 Rogue Features: Expertise (Deception, Performance) 1 Rogue Features: Sneak Attack (1d6) 1 Rogue Features: Thieves Can't

[Onward]

And I think I'm done with my app.

[DebiRedHair]

Character Information Name: Valeria d'Athos Race: Half Elf Background: Cloistered Scholar Class: Warlock (Dao Genie) Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Description: Standing 5'4" tall, and weighing 154lbs, Valeria favours her human mother's looks. With her dark hair, voluptuous figure and beautiful face, she is a striking woman; and it is only when you look into her eyes and see that they are violet, that her elven heritage becomes apparent. Her ears are slightly pointed and she has the clear skin of her father's race. She tends to wear her scholar's robes, or a diaphenous gown when she is inside, and form-fitting leather armour when she is outside. Her favorite colour is black, and most of her clothes are made in fabrics of the colour. The only decoration she bears is a ring made of gold and bearing a black stone.   To whom it may concern at the Strixhaven Academy I am writing to introduce one of my pupils to you. Valeria d'Athos is one of the finest young women to have graduated from the Cardale High School for Girls in the 30 years that I have been Headmistress, and the first who has been ready for admission to your esteemed institution. She has shown herself to be an example to all her peers and this letter is to recommend her to you, and to ask that you admit her to the Academy at the next opportunity. Valeria was first brought to the school at the age of 6, by both her parents. The Marquis of Athos explained that she is his natural daughter, and as such, he would allow her to bear his name but he would not raise her as Nobility. He had examined all the available schools and selected our establishment to teach his daughter all she needed to be a success in life. He paid 12 years of tuition and boarding fees, with a substantial amount in reserve for vacation visits, then left. I have not seen him since that day, though Valeria's mother moved to a nearby town and has visited her every term. Valeria has proven herself to be an excellent student. She has learned to make good use of information to develop her ideas on a subject, has visited all of the finest libraries in Faerun during her vacations and makes excellent use of their facilities. Her end of year examination results are spectacular and she has a fine mind, though she has excelled in the social aspect of the school. Valeria is a natural leader, and has been captain of a number of sports teams including Netball and Field Hockey. She has been Head Girl for the past year and has been an example to all the girls in the school. She is a gifted linguist, though she favours esoteric languages, and is the sort of person who will be an asset to any organisation who take her as part of their establishment. I recommend her to you without reservation Hydrangea Polock Headmistress, Cardale High School for Girls Master Graeme, Admissions Tutor at Strixhaven considered the letter without looking at the bearer. The by-blow of an Elven Marquis and a human servant, no doubt. The alumni of a second rate school for girls where the teaching was less important than the boarding; keeping the child.locked away do they did not embarrassed the father. Probably not someone who would be of any use at the Academy. How should he let her down gently? He raised his eyes. The first thing he saw was a pair of violet eyes, set in a face of almost unworldly beauty. The second, as his eyes slipped downwards, was a curvy voluptuous body that was draped ina set of scholar's robes which concealed but gave fascinating hints as to what lay below. A voice of pure silver, with a hint of babbling brook, came to his ears. "Professor, I hope I am good enough for Strixhaven. I have always wanted to study here, ever since I read about the Academy. I am sure I will learn so much." A slim hand, with beautiful manicured nails, touches his arm and those eyes look at him from under the fringe of beautiful dark hair and elegantly shaped eyebrows. "I have not chosen a College yet. Maybe you would be so kind as to help me choose? " Master Graeme smiles, then reaches for the stamp that says'Consider for Admission'. This girl is surely one who Strixhaven should have as an Alumni! he thinks as the stamp hits the letter and he places it in its file.

Character Build [B][Starting Stats: STR 10 (+0) | DEX 16 (+3) | CON 15(+2)| INT 14(+2) | WIS 14 (+2) | CHA 17 (+3) Level Source Feature 1 Half Elf +1 Dex, +1 Con, +2 Cha 1 Half Elf Speed: 30 1 Half Elf Darkvision Thanks to your elf blood, you have superior vision in dark and dim conditions. You can see in dim light within 60 feet of you as if it were bright light, and in darkness as if it were dim light. You can’t discern color in darkness, only shades of gray. 1 Half Elf Fey Ancestry: You have advantage on saving throws against being charmed, and magic can’t put you to sleep. 1 Half Elf Skill Versatility: Perception, Persuasion 1 Half Elf Language: Common, Elvish, Terran 1 Cloistered Scholar Skill Proficiencies: History, Nature 1 Cloistered Scholar Languages: Draconic, Celestial 1 Cloistered Scholar Library Access: Though others must often endure extensive interviews and significant fees to gain access to even the most common archives in your library, you have free and easy access to the majority of the library, though it might also have repositories of lore that are too valuable, magical, or secret to permit anyone immediate access.You have a working knowledge of your cloister's personnel and bureaucracy, and you know how to navigate those connections with some ease.Additionally, you are likely to gain preferential treatment at other libraries across the Realms, as professional courtesy shown to a fellow scholar. 1 Cloistered Scholar Equipment: The scholar's robes of your cloister, a writing kit (small pouch with a quill, a bottle of ink, folded parchment, and a small penknife), a borrowed book on the subject of your current study, and a pouch containing 10gp 1 Warlock Unearthly Patron (Dao Genie) Expanded Spell List and Also at 1st level, your patron gifts you a magical vessel that grants you a measure of the genie's power. The vessel is a Tiny object, and you can use it as a spellcasting focus for your warlock spells. This is a Ring with a compartment. While you are touching the vessel, you can use it in the following ways: Bottled Respite:*As an action, you can magically vanish and enter your vessel, which remains in the space you left. The interior of the vessel is an extradimensional space in the shape of a 20-foot-radius cylinder, 20 feet high, and resembles your vessel. The interior is appointed with cushions and low tables and is a comfortable temperature. While inside, you can hear the area around your vessel as if you were in its space. You can remain inside the vessel up to a number of hours equal to twice your proficiency bonus. You exit the vessel early if you use a bonus action to leave, if you die, or if the vessel is destroyed. When you exit the vessel, you appear in the unoccupied space closest to it. Any objects left in the vessel remain there until carried out, and if the vessel is destroyed, every object stored there harmlessly appears in the unoccupied spaces closest to the vessel's former space. Once you enter the vessel, you can't enter again until you finish a long rest.Genie’s Wrath:*Once during each of your turns when you hit with an attack roll, you can deal extra damage to the target equal to your proficiency bonus. The type of this damage is determined by your patron: bludgeoning (dao), thunder (djinni), fire (efreeti), or cold (marid).The vessel's AC equals your spell save DC. Its hit points equal your warlock level plus your proficiency bonus, and it is immune to poison and psychic damage. If the vessel is destroyed or you lose it, you can perform a 1-hour ceremony to receive a replacement from your patron. This ceremony can be performed during a short or long rest, and the previous vessel is destroyed if it still exists. The vessel vanishes in a flare of elemental power when you die.Magical Vessel 1 Warlock Pact Magic 2 cantrips and 2 Level 1 1 Warlock Spellcasting: DC = 10+Cha Modifier 1 Warlock Hit Points: 1d8+CON modifier 1 Warlock Armor Proficiency: Light 1 Warlock Weapon Proficiency: Simple weapons 1 Warlock Save: Wis, Con 1 Warlock Skills: Arcana, Investigation

[savoylen]

Originally Posted by penbeast0

Rather than a mage, I was thinking of one of the odd classes of non-spell caster that I've never tried (or even seen). Does anyone have any comments on either of the following classes -- good or bad?

Soulknife

Echo Knight

Other than (don't hate me), I'm not a huge fan of Explorer's Guide to Wildemount, not at all. Do what you think is fun.

- Savy