[D&D-5e] Odyssey of the Dragonlords

[Elanir]

Alcimos, Brother of the Naiads Character Name: Alcimos the Singer Race: Thylean Male Nymph (Naiad) Alignment: Chaotic Good (CG) Background: Hermit Class: Bard (College of Glamour) Epic Path: Haunted One (preferred) or Cursed One Character Description: Alcimos looks like a man in his early twenties, though he was born hundreds of years ago, his true ancestry not immediately apparent. He is of medium height and rather slim, lacking the muscular body of an athlete or warrior. His limbs are elegant and his facial features strikingly beautiful, in fact his skin seems to be entirely without wrinkles, scars or other blemishes. His rich brown hair reaches almost to his shoulders and he likes to tie it back loosely with a ribbon and wear wreaths made of leaves and flowers upon his brow. His eyes are blue, a rare color to be found among the men of Thylea, though the actual shade seems to change according to the light like water does, ranging from green to grey. His lips are full and sensual and few can resist the charm of his smile or the intensity of his gaze. What really separates him from the mortal races of Mytros, however, is his aura of serenity. Only those that know him best, namely his elder sisters, realize that beneath the calm surface he is churning like the angry sea. Brief Character History: Like most of his kind Alcimos was born hundreds of years ago out of Thylea‘s thoughts and dreams, emerging from the river next to which Mytros would one day be founded. During the first centuries of his life the naiad never strayed far from his river home, choosing an easy and carefree life, uninterested in the passage of time and Thylea’s other native races. At some point, however, the settlers arrived and Mytros and the city’s outlying villages came to be. The contact with humans and the other mortal races aroused his curiosity and Alcimos spent a great deal of time spying on them and learning the ways of the younger races. With passing time his interest in the newcomers waned and his excursions to the world of men became less frequent. As the people of Mytros, ever expanding, claimed the lands that once belonged to his sisters and him, the nymphs had to relocate to the north and for the most part keep to themselves. Everything changed when Alcimos met Eumenea, a young woman who was as accomplished a musician as she was beautiful. Falling immediately in love, he revealed himself to her and over months the two came to know each other more intimately. The woman brought twins to the world and it was at this point that the once carefree naiad decided to lead a mortal‘s life in order to be with his family. Traveling to the foothills of the Mithral Mountains and finding a remote place far away from civilization, Alcimos built a small hut that became his family‘s new home. He spent his time tending the earth and hunting so that he could provide for his wife and children and for six years the four of them were happy. One day, however, Eumenea and the children, Hippine and Aremon, suddenly disappeared and no one could seem to remember their existence. No matter how desperately he looked, Alcimos was unable to find any trace of them. They seemed to have been erased from the weave of Fate. Refusing to give up on them, Alcimos headed to Mytros to meet the one person who would know the truth about them and how to bring them back - the Oracle.   Hear me, Thylea, Mother of all And you, ancient Titans and glorious Gods, Masters of the earth, sea and sky, As I present to you my tangled past. I came to the world with the melting of the snows The youngest child of the meandering river That joins the salty sea where men came to dwell Single brother of nine elder sisters. Loved and nurtured by my mother‘s embrace I grew up with the babbling of the stream And my sisters‘ laughter echoing in my ears Cherishing the smell of wet earth and growing grass. As I opened my eyes I saw beauty unmarred Indescribable by even the most artful of words Each bud flowering, each leaf dancing in the breeze A wonder greater than man‘s grandest works. The world greeted me with the chattering of birds Followed by the song of the cicadas and the secret whispers of the wind All praising the Great Mother‘s benevolence and love A music that soothed my mind and calmed my heart. My eyes were open and at the same time closed For I was living in Thylea‘s vivid dream Content in believing that I knew all there was Around my cradle of gently swaying reeds. I don’t recall how many seasons passed The cycle of life and death repeating and eternal But when I looked around me once more No longer could I see the place of my birth. I strove to catch a glimpse of the capricious sea One moment smiling with honey‘s sweetness The other howling and raging beyond all reason But now high walls of stone my sight did block. Neither did I find the forest I remembered The willows, oaks and planar trees were gone Having been replaced by poor and humble cousins Their twisted branches heavy with olives basking in the sun. Even the great river had changed its course Thousands of digging hands changing the face of the earth Small ditches watering newly sown fields of wheat and barley To sate the hunger of the multitude of men’s children. Only the mountains remained as memory dictated Untouched by the mortals’ hubris and desire Crowned with snow and proud in their rocky armor The last sentinels of a transforming world. Alarmed, I sought the wisdom of my sisters And soon they came, responding to my cries Comforting me with their hands and voices As soft and gentle as a nestling’s feathers. „Much that was, no longer is“, they told me „Much that is, we have never seen before Mortals now walk the lands that have been pledged to us alone Turning wood into huts, mud into bricks and stone into walls“. „But they also laugh and moan and cry“, my youngest sister spoke „And dance when they get drunk with the juice of sun-kissed grapes And when their heart is moved or sad or fearful They give voice to their passion through hollow reed, string or skin“. „Listen“, they urged me, „for their melodies surpass the nightingale‘s song“ „Observe“, they advised, „for their ways are strange and wondrous“ „But do not show yourself to them“, they warned me with one voice „For we have seen them stain the earth with blood and soot“. So it was that I left the bosom of my mother The riverbank that had served as home and bed Hidden by shadows growing longer under the moonlight I listened and observed what men did and were. I saw them bring the small ones to their beds And with a story or a song weigh down their lids I saw them watch the stars and dream Of a companion dear, boundless joy and undiminished glory. The more I heard, the more I saw, the more I came to know them Minds that gave birth to alien thoughts Hearts that beat differently, but no less true Strangers to this land but no longer to me. It wasn’t long before the people sought us out Fearful in heart and cautious in their step Having heard stories of many-headed hydras and cruel nymphs Drowning the men and women that dared defile their homes. They found nothing but rich clay and water pure and frogs playing among the smooth, white rocks And fear turned to courage and courage to nerve And what had been sacred before was now within their grasp. Maidens were sent to my river home To fetch water in water jarshydriae painted bright And farmers filled their buckets to the brim To quench the thirst of their herds of horned beasts. As the river washed away the filth of clothes and bodies So did the wonder cease to be The mortals soon turned from strangers to neighbors As special as the dirt coating the workers‘ hands. And yet, is there a greater joy Than finding a pearl inside the mud? Or feeling the touch of cool rain upon one‘s face After a season of drought the lips has parched? I found my pearl, I found my rain In a woman‘s young and slender limbs Her hands caressed the lyre with passion And made tears swiftly flow down my virgin cheeks. Her crystal voice robbed me of breath Her melody commanded my thoughts But it was my heart that suffered most For it had been set on fire, unquenchable by stream or rain. Eumenea, I heard her name be called Daughter of heavens as I am the river‘s child Shaming the stars with her godlike radiance A queen among mortals and lady of my heart. No greater urge than kneel before her form No desire other than kissing her white hands And if the Gods and Titans a wish they would fulfill me It would be for her to gaze upon me with no fear. The Fates were good to me that day Though I dread it was a favor born of malice Watering the tree of love to grow and thrive Only to feel a greater pain before the axe‘s blade. She glimpsed at my face beneath the water‘s surface And smiled to see a listener to her song Then her back she turned to my paralyzed form Returning to her life away from myths and rivers. But she returned. Each dawn she came for water sweet And we would watch the bright sun rise At sunset she would play her lyre And we would sing until the stars looked down and smiled. I hadn’t known the sense of time Free as I was of bond and duty But now with fervor I counted the days As a miser does the coins in his hoard. We talked, we laughed, we sang and kissed And sometimes we just sat in silence Our arms entwined, our bodies close Each one a mirror of the other‘s soul. The world of trees and grass and rivers Ceased to exist in my eyes She was my world, she was my all She filled my days and dreams at night. A seed was planted, born of love And slowly did we watch it grow Until it sprouted buds and leaves Twin tender plants that shared one root. With gleaming eyes as blue as mine And with their mother‘s hair of gold A baby boy and newborn girl Their breath proof of a kind world. What does it mean to be a father To mortal children born of flesh? What must one do to make them happy And sleep content in their mother’s breast? All one must give to those who are young All one must give for they have nothing I had no fear, did not hold back The more I gave, the more I had. A hut I built for my wife and children And left the river far behind I came to lead the life of mortals Its pain sweet, its ache divine. Six years we lived blessed and peaceful And in this time I saw me grow twice From newborn to toddler, from toddler to child The future smiling in their eyes. But nothing ever lasts forever Nothing escapes the storm unscathed And foolish are the fey or mortals Who believe themselves immune to hurt. How could bliss enrage a Titan? How could joy insult a God? How could the Fates grow tired of happiness And change the pattern of our lives? One day our home I found empty Devoid of noise, laughter and voice Alone my screams were heard inside it Echoes of moments of a life now gone. I asked the sky, the earth, the river To tell me what they had observed I begged in tears my elder sisters To answer me and ease my pain. „A dream“, they said, „A wicked dream“ „When have you ever sired a child? You spend your days playing in the shallows Your nights singing in the dark“. But my heart knows it is no nightmare No fantasy or waking dream My family is gone but not forgotten And I will find it by any means. There is one who has all answers There is one who speaks the truth I‘ll seek her out and do her bidding And find what‘s lost that never should.   To call Neoma, wife of Calinos the wine merchant, nosy, would have been like comparing the sun‘s brightness with that of a candle - an understatement. Everyone in Mytros knew of her well-deserved reputation and, though most would deny it, almost everyone visited her stall at the great covered walkwaystoa to learn the latest news from the so-called „Oracle of the Agora“. Calinos didn’t mind his wife‘s favorite occupation, for that meant more customers for him, and even if he had, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. The man communicated mostly by grunting, grimacing and nodding or shaking his head, which didn’t really increase his chances at holding his own in a verbal fight against his wife. Having been humiliated time and again, he had finally decided to let Neoma be as the gods had made her and keep silent about it. She spoke enough for the two of them anyway. "Have you seen him too? I heard he is as good-looking as a young god!" The woman‘s voice betrayed an excitement that one wouldn’t necessarily expect from someone whose children had children of their own. Then again, Diome had lost her husband decades ago and some part of her no doubt wanted to relive her younger days when her beauty had been the talk of Mytros. Neoma nodded affirmatively but her response was uncharacteristically short. "I have." There was no one better at piquing one‘s interest than Neoma, everyone knew that. "And?" Panike‘s stern tone was matched by the frown of her face. She was one of those people who thought themselves too important to pay attention to gossip. That didn’t mean that she didn’t visit Calinos and Neoma‘s stall almost daily. Some said that she had grown tired of the endless debates of her husband and his friends about truth, beauty and virtue. Others claimed that she liked her wine a little too much. Whatever the case she and the two servants that accompanied her were a permanent fixture of the agora. "Oh, you should have seen him…" Neoma licked her lips as if she had just tasted something sweet and delicious. "A true man!" "Hmm. A boy more likely." Calinos must have been feeling adventurous that day to share his opinion with his wife and her friends. He was well aware that contradicting Neoma could have terrible consequences - for him at least. To her credit the wine merchant‘s wife waited for Calinos to present one of Panike‘s servants with an amphora full of wine, count the silver coins he received and disappear once more in the back, before continuing. "He is man enough for me!" Laughter followed this remark even though the whole city knew that despite her bluster Neoma was deeply in love with her husband and would never chase after another man. Merely looking, however, couldn’t hurt. "I heard that he came to the city at the head of a group of bandits!", said Diome, anxious for more information. Neoma nodded sagely. "Leoras and his men waylaid him as he was approaching Mytros, hoping no doubt that his pouch would be full of silver." Panike frowned once more, this time more deeply. She had been taken by bandits on the way to Estoria as a girl and from that day onward she refused to leave the safety of the city of her birth. "Scoundrels! When will we finally be rid of such scum? They are as bad as centaurs." For once, Neoma looked at Panike with genuine sympathy. She knew of course of the woman’s traumatic experience as a child. "Well, they did him no harm. Quite the contrary. first rumorThey offered him clothes, food and water and accompanied him all the way to the city gates." Pausing for a few moments to increase the tension, the wine merchant‘s wife continued, stressing every word. "He told me so himself." Neoma was rewarded with an expression of utter astonishment from her friends. "You spoke to him! What is he called? Where does he stay? He might need a place to rest and my house is far too large for a woman alone." Panike looked at Diome sternly, but didn’t get the chance to rebuke her. Neoma would not let anyone, especially Panike‘s sensibilities, steal her show. "He is called Alcimos… a singer. He spoke of wanting to gaze upon the face of the sea." Lowering her voice, Neoma leaned forward as if she were about to share a great secret. "I believe he is one of them…. the children of the river. I don’t think that he has need of your house, Diome. second rumorI bet that he will sleep beneath the waves tonight with nothing but the sea‘s embrace to keep him warm. A pity." "A brother of the naiads?" Diome seemed disappointed. It seemed very unlikely that one of the fey would pay attention to an elderly mortal woman. "Why has he come to Mytros? Did he tell you?" Panike couldn’t help herself. If Neoma knew, she had to know too. "To see the Oracle." Neoma clearly enjoyed her superiority over her not so well-informed friends and was determined to cherish her moment of glory. "Do you know what I think? third rumorI believe him to be the Oracle’s son. We have all heard stories about her and men. Who knows where she has been hiding Alcimos all this time." "Her son! You think?" Panike scoffed. "Don‘t listen to her and her wild tales, Diome. She is making things up. Her information is no better than her wine - third rate at best." The accusation about the quality of the wine didn’t bother Neoma all that much. But to call her a liar was simply too much! "Fine! Leave then. Since you don’t believe me, I‘m sure you wouldn’t want to know what I have heard about possibly EumeneaKing Acastus‘ daughter…" Now she had her. Panike would be unable to resist and Neoma was determined to tell her nothing until she apologized. Calling her a liar, the „Oracle of the Agora“. The nerve!

For my part I consider the application complete.

[Seeks]

Considering I have been given no advice on my plight -- and because a lot of people are presenting outsider characters anyway -- I'm just going to throw my hands in the air and say "screw it, Leonin with Pythor syncretism". I don't like the idea of competing for a slot in the campaign, but I'm neurotic about competitions to begin with. Will edit this post with a proper app when I can get it together. Application is done, as far as I can tell.

Character App Character Name: Kyrie the Cunning Race: From the Theros 5e expansionLeonin Background: Acolyte (Pythor) Class: Rogue (Odyssean) Epic Path: Up to the Fates to decide... Character Description: Despite being as tall as any leonin (easily over six feet tall), Kyrie is oddly slight and slim compared to the bulky physique of her race. Preferring cool colors to her raiment, she is draped in flowing linens that befit those of the Thylean kingdoms, covering her upper body but keeping her limbs unrestrained. Simple accessories of iron and leather strips adorn her limbs, and she's often got her mane-like hair tied back loosely. Her eyes are bright, yet oddly attentive to small details compared to most humans and even some fae. If one is close enough, they might hear metal rattling beneath her linens, or the hem of a leather cuirass underneath her outfit -- subtle clues that the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed lioness may have an ulterior motive, and is just as dangerous as her stronger fellows. Character History: It's uncertain why this leonin was left on the steps of a temple to Pythor in her youth, somewhere on the outskirts of Estoria. Much of her memory was in scattered pieces, or there was much she didn't or wouldn't tell. But her ragged appearance and tearful expression told all to the priests within -- something terrible had happened, and the nameless child was now alone in the world. Though the leonin weren't as notorious as the likes of centaurs or cyclopes in the Greater Steppes, it meant that the lioness may have had a chance to find her peace among people yet. Though she started weak and scrawny for a leonin, she was not turned away from the ways of a warrior. With proper tutoring and encouragement from the priests who took her in, she would learn to embrace her own strengths to one day serve the Lord of Battle. After all, the apparent orphan held a strong devotion to learning how to fight. And it seemed she had an idea of who Pythor was, too. At least, some strange god-beast who was also associated with the god of battle. If Pythor himself was known to walk among mortals in disguise, the idea of his worship among the leonin couldn't have been too alien, muddied or not. At any rate, it would make conversion to true faith in him easier. Thus a name to replace one that was lost was given to her, in honor of her eager devotion: Kyrie, meaning "lord have mercy". Despite opening up to others in due time, the lioness always liked to watch and listen, ever observant of others' habits and teachings. Her mind was sharp and calculating, a quick learner to both fighting techniques and to her priesthood's habits in sparring. She was able to hold her own as she got older, ever able to exploit her opponents' tells and predict their next moves. Like a proper lioness stalking her prey in the brush, the adopted priestess-in-training found amusement in treating fights like a contest of wits... or a game of cat-and-mouse. By the time of her adulthood, Kyrie grew stir-crazy with life in the frontier temple. She was too eager to test her skills in true battle, itching to fight valiantly to her god's glory, and the grim mystery of what happened the night of her new life ate away at her more and more as the years went by. Though the priests warned her that life outside of her devotion would have its challenges and risks, a wild outsider among civilized people, they also bid her good fortune and valor for the days to come. And thus, living by her wits both on the fringes of society and occasionally within it, the vagabond would come to give herself a new moniker to fit her new experiences. Who else could she be now but Kyrie the Cunning? Rumor 1: She has an alliance with the Amazons, and is planning to do something dangerous in Aresia on their behalf. Rumor 2: Her peoples' god-beast was once a huge and mighty lion, whose hide turned aside sword blades and repelled spear points. Rumor 3: She had once bested a fearsome barbarian in single combat, but only by exploiting his greatest weakness learned long before their duel.

Notes: Image source can be found HERE. I am kinda weird about using others' art without referencing where I got it.

[npangalou]

Interested. Very new here. Posting as a placeholder.

[Jrod]

Application=Not Complete Leandros Eladrin Horizon Walker of the Old Woods Folk Hero Applying with NO epic path. Can become Gifted one or Demi god for terms of party composition and acceptance if needed. Not required.

How it goes Description: Leandros is a beast. He looks as formidable with a bow as he does with any blade, and unlike his kinfolk, he stands as tall and broad as man. He has the build of a brawny and athletic looking young fighter, with a stance of pride and purpose. Silky golden hair lays strung down his back often tied in a pony. His skin has an auburn hue hidden among the paleness. Golden honey like eyes magnify themselves from a rugged yet symmetrical warriors face. He wears light leather armor over his white elven cloths and is signified by the red fletching on his arrows. Personality: Passionate and wrathful. Leandros wears his heart on his sleeve. Cross him and you won’t know tomorrow. Earn his trust, you have an ally for life. What you get from Leandros is an alpha male type person, at full face value. He calls a spade a spade and wouldn’t have it any other way. He has a raging fire of competitiveness burning deep within him, a constant longing to be the best in his craft. Above all else, he is proud. Proud of his heritage, proud of his upbringing and proud of himself. There is some skepticism around Leandros’s name. Weather he is a primal beast hell bent on savagery, or a contributing member of society ushering in peace and solace. In truth he doesn’t care what people think. The path to greatness is paved in nay sayers and untruth. He finds it mildly funny and sometimes plays into the tropes in which he’s brushed, to get a good laugh.

How it was An Offspring of an elf Druid and a fey nymphs love sport from a secluded village adjacent the great river. Leandros developed traits akin to both his parents. Perpetually a stronger, faster, keener version of his tribesman. He was gifted in ways of magic that few of his people had seen before. He exuded a promise level of skill among martial talents, often besting men many years older than himself for as long as he can remember. For his first fifty years Leandros was held in solitude, away from man. He was to observe, gather knowledge and prepare for the next leg of his life journey. His father, untrusting, sheltered his son, as well as their village from the dubious man as best he could. They watched on from the edges of Mytros, tucked away in the old wood. Humans were entertaining to say the least. Some of them were to be glorious victors no doubt, but for the most part they seemed dumb and delicate. Frivolous with their dainty life, spending it on matters of no course, only to be washed among the sands of time and their names forgotten. Still though, their grandeur was enticing. The younger races had a way of liveliness and energetic youthfulness bound to their nature that was encompassing. For his second fifty years he trained, Worked hard and became wise of his peoples ways. He became dedicated and resourceful. He also grew an appreciation for the fun loving and ecstatic life of some other races, namely the humans. With their fast growing kingdoms and ever louder coliseums, he felt they draw of wonder yard him in. He would make sure his fate would not be the same as the younger races. He would ascend to greatness and would see himself remembered. Books would tell tales of his might. Tapestries would visualize his conquering and men and women of all races and time would know his name. Leandros now hunts the old woods for his conclave, protecting its borders and enacting a guardianship among his people. He spends the majority of his days building renown among Thylea through numerous competitions and tournaments. He contracts his skills to townsfolk and kings alike. Dispatching monsters who ravage border villages or as scout for their troops making their way through or past his wood land realm.

Rumours run-a-muk “Haven’t you heard? He’s a hybrid abomination of the Fey” Guardsman, militia and townsfolk alike would whisper in uncertainty of the wooded one, before and after he saved their lives from the hungry wolves. - Although true, this discrimination and prejudice only fuels his appetite for success. To prove himself superior would be a great accomplishment. And In fact he is quite refined, bound by his oath. “They call him the Lion for his ferociousness. He was once in two places at the same time, all while Fighting three different men!” Crowds folk mutter amongst each other after the first and second round of the Archery contest. - Again, true. He knows no bounds in the face of battle. The fey magic flowing through his veins grants him supernatural feats of teleportation. He uses this tactic to strike fear into his opponents. ”They call him the lion because he eats his prey after battle! I’ve seen him do it! He’s a savage” A weary and beaten rival makes desperate attempts to sully his name. - Of course this is not true. He is no canibal, and would never need to eat in such a way due to his fey magics ability to provide bountiful sustenance. But he does absolutely love the thrill of the hunt and is completely on the carnivourous side of being an omnivore.

[FraterChad]

For GleefulfulNihilism:

Much as I know jack about the Odyssey of the Dragonlords setting, color me intrigued. Always up for something Greek-myth-inspired. I'm still apprehensive about the Oath, but I'll give the presented lore a look and go from there for an application. But don't wait for me.

I'm considering a rogue, because the Odyssean subtype looks cool. I'm still trying to find a good reference, let alone an idea that works. I don't want to distort the setting in ways that wouldn't work, though. My initial draft for a character was a Leonin, and her concept was being a cultist to a supposed syncretism of Pythor. However, I really struggled to find a good way to justify that character concept, and I have no idea if that's antithetical a) to the setting and b) to what FraterChad has in mind for the campaign. Unless I have permission to find ways to square that specific circle, I'm back to the drawing board.

I know I have a name, and a backup race in mind -- Kyrie the Cunning, and probably a half-elf. Heck, I could probably find a meaningful way to tie her to Pythor either way. Seeing as the applications are due by the 31st, I've got time to mull this over. Sorry! :x

Considering I have been given no advice on my plight -- and because a lot of people are presenting outsider characters anyway -- I'm just going to throw my hands in the air and say "screw it, Leonin with Pythor syncretism". I don't like the idea of competing for a slot in the campaign, but I'm neurotic about competitions to begin with. Will edit this post with a proper app when I can get it together.

Apologies. I misread the first comment as sort of thinking-out-loud rather than asking for overt help. That said, I also misread Kyrie as your main character rather than a backup.

The leonin race would fit perfectly well with the other fey natives (nymphs, satyrs, etc.) available for character creation. As far as "outsider" characters go, indigenous fey races aren't necessarily outsiders even if race-relations are tense between them and the settler races (humans, elves, etc.). True outsiders are the ones who are from outside of Thylea, who arrive typically after surviving a monstrous maelstrom in the furthest reaches of the lands beyond Thylea (left intentionally vague). The fey races were natives but are currently kind-of second-hand citizens in the major cities following the arrival of the settler races, but "new" folks continue trickling into the setting without rhyme or reason (perhaps called by Fate?!). That's what I meant by outsider.

As far as syncretism goes, it's a really interesting concept. It's not particularly explored in the lore much, but that doesn't necessarily mean it doesn't exist in our iteration of Thylea. It would actually be more common for the fey to have their own syncretic versions of the Five Gods since they are, traditionally, more likely to worship the Titans (and then, mostly out of fear). If you're wanting to go with a syncretic form of Pythor, then write me up a bit about the "new" God and how they're worshiped, etc. Note that, even then, there are lore secrets to be revealed that will likely not line up perfectly with how the character worships.

For the new applicants, I'll be updating the application roster shortly!

[silverfeathers]

This is really pulling me to put an application together. I really love epic story telling with larger than life heroes with world changing events. I will read through the player's guide and the original ad to see what I start thinking up. I did look up 'Odyssey of the Dragonlords' and seeing whom wrote and developed the story/material really got me excited.

[Chylopan]

Saif Bahir al-Sulaiman Saif Bahir al-Sulaiman Human Rogue (Swashbuckler) Epic Path: The Lost One Background: Sailor (Merchant/Pirate) Character Description: Immaculately well-maintained garments caress sun-kissed flesh yet marred by sun, sea, or sand. A voluminous head of pitch-black is tied back into a lengthy ponytail adorned by a golden cinch, then tucked beneath the hold of a wrapped turban complimented by a jeweled circlet. Handsome, young, and predatorily showy, Saif Bahir is, for all intents and purposes, the spitting image of a wealthy, foreign merchant or aristocrat; heck, even the sword and dagger fastened to his hip appear more decorative and ornate, used as a sign of status and wealth, than of any practical use — make no mistake, however: this is one instance where ego did not come at the cost of form and function. Backstory: Far and away from Thylea, out of sight from their gods, and beyond the hundred-plus miles of Forgotten Sea, lies a realm composed primarily of vast deserts, divine oases, and opulent cities — Halakir, they call it. The capital of which is Suraq, a coastal metropolis known colloquially as The Djinni's Jewel. Considered both a political and commercial nexus, Suraq is home primarily to merchants, the nobility, and unfathomable swathes of military or military-adjacent denizens, all of which exploit to the fullest their access to the water through an impossibly large public seaport. Saif Bahir al-Sulaiman, known to his friends as Bahir, and his enemies as al-Sulaiman, operated an extensive sea-fairing mercantile enterprise out of Suraq's prolific seaport. Though mostly dealing in the above-board trade of commercial goods, such as spices and textiles, there did come an odd season or two where privateering proved more profitable — this was where he earned the tongue-in-cheek moniker of "Sultan Sulaiman," due to the fact that most of his targets wound up being immediate competitors. Ah, but... "If you cannot protect your hoard, you do not deserve it," or so the sage-wise king of Halakir once said. And it was this ambitious pursuit of coin — hard earned or hard fought — of loot and plunder, that lead Saif astray from his magnanimous homeland, far and away from the deserts of Halakir, across its black, stormy waters, and into the many maelstroms that lie in wait on the border of the known sea, for naught but the promise of riches and fortune beyond his wildest imagination, so that he might return home, truly, the Sultan Sulaiman.

Rumors Shrewd Businessman — Saif is, first and foremost, a merchant. His eye for good business is rivaled only by his other which, coincidentally, can tell the genuine artifact from a fake with but a glance.. at a hundred paces... in a dust storm. He's all about making friends and connections! It's just good business. Underhanded — From the simple bait-and-switch to a more cleverly disguised contract riddled with legalese, if Saif thinks he can get away with it... well, he probably will; at the very least, he's going to try. Every little advantage, any possible edge, can make all the difference in the cut-throat world of mercantilism. Begrudgingly Noble — While he'll profess that any altruism is merely a ploy for better public relations, Saif does, in fact, have a heart (although, likely, it is gilded and gemmed in a manner most gauche). He may not like having to part with any of his money or possessions, but a part of him still remembers his humble beginnings on the harsh, sandstone streets of Suraq. Help for those who help themselves! And maybe those who cannot...

RP Sample "Farid, my friend, relax!" A bejeweled hand clapped down on the soggy deckhand's shoulder, attempting to both reassure him and still the shivers which had stolen his vigor. "Though the clouds may be dark, and the wind unfair, we'll make it through like we always do." Saif bore a cheery smile that was, momentarily, shaken by the rough jostle given to the boat by a rogue wave. "Swallow your fear, men! Remember: on the other side of this storm lies our fortune — our destiny!" "Captain, the Khaleegy, she can't hold against a true tempest," warned yet another concerned crewmember shouting over the rain from his perch on the rigging. "Our load is too great! Even if we hadn't looted that —" "Nonsense," Saif interjected. "We've come too far to turn back now! Helmsman, steel yourself! Full speed ahead!" "Aye, capt—" Just then, a particularly large and angry wave struck the broadside of the Khaleegy. That, along with the wind's forceful whip, saw the Helmsman thrown overboard — or that was the most likely conclusion. As it stood, by the time the ship reeled back upright, and the remaining crew found their balance, he was gone! Once there, now nowhere to be seen. "Farid, see to the sails! I'm taking the helm," Saif barked across the deck, struggling to stay upright, though still slipping and sliding his way towards the wheel one foot at a time. "Batten down the hatches! Secure yourselves! It's only going to get worse from here!" And so the crew went about readying the ship for its inevitable battle with the tumultuous sea. Little did they know that, just beyond the darkness of all those stormy clouds, and the eerie, starless sky, did lie a wave of mythological proportion ready to rend the o'er ambitious vessel asunder before it could even mount a proper defense. The inky black depths would soon know the glitter of priceless treasures and gems, among them Saif and his crew.

[Touketsu]

@FraterChad, will you be providing any feedback? If so, I'd love your thoughts on Aster regarding how well she would potentially fit into your campaign

[Chylopan]

@FraterChad, I believe my application is complete. If I'm missing anything, do let me know!

[FraterChad]

@FraterChad, I believe my application is complete. If I'm missing anything, do let me know!

Noted! I've updated your status, along with @Jrod's! Let me know if either of you make any big changes!

@FraterChad, will you be providing any feedback? If so, I'd love your thoughts on Aster regarding how well she would potentially fit into your campaign

Since the application process is still fairly open right now, my main goal is seeing the breadth of applications that come in. While I'm happy to help flesh out character concepts and fill in lore-gaps and what not, I don't tend to help steer characters in any directions or another to avoid looking like I'm giving any applicant a leg up over another, if that makes sense.

That said, as far as Aster goes, I dig the application. I think the backstory works perfectly well with the lore and you've given Aster secondary motivations beyond the main plot (which isn't necessary, but helps give both of us an idea of how she'll fit in with the rest of the party). One thing I'll say, though, is that the Demigod Origin Sorcerer specifies a Divine Domain granted for that subclass. From my glancing through it, the subclass doesn't necessarily imply that you have to choose a Domain associated with a god/titan you're currently involved with in some manner, so it seems pretty open-ended. Either way, go ahead and specify which Domain you think she'll end up pursuing since that does add a distinct layer of flavor to the character and how she'll fit in with the others in the party.

[Chylopan]

@Fraterchad, I added my intended subclass (which I seem to have neglected on first pass).

[Jrod]

@Fraterchad - Not complete, yet. Still ironing out and tweaking some things. I will likely continue on this path for a few days upto a couple weeks.

[GleefulNihilism]

Also open to feedback.

[Touketsu]

Originally Posted by FraterChad

Either way, go ahead and specify which Domain you think she'll end up pursuing since that does add a distinct layer of flavor to the character and how she'll fit in with the others in the party.

Understood. I think since she's born of Vallus and is trying to get back into her good graces that I'll go with the Knowledge domain. I've updated my app to reflect that.

[Alemar]

Application Character Name: Karipos Aquileous Race: Human Class (and intended subclass / build desires): Cleric (War) 1 | Fighter X (Champion) Epic Path: Dragonslayer (Open to Change) -X-X-X- Custom Background Trait #1 I see omens in everything. The Gods try to speak to us, if we would only listen! Trait #2 I'll settle for nothing less than pure perfection Ideal If I can attain more power, nobody will ever hurt me again Bond I owe my life to the priests who took me in when my parents died, I am a cleric because of their influences Flaw I'm never satisfied with what I have, I NEED more *Note City Secrets Feature from Urchin, Skill Proficiency: History, Insight Tools Proficiency: Vehicles (Land), Playing Cards (Tarot Deck) Starting Gear: Charlatan (Fine Clothes, Deck of Tarot Cards, 15GP) Character Description (including any art or Hero Forge builds): Karipos is very proud of the long, thick, chords of amber hair that flow from his head. He has a thin, yet solid, frame of chiseled muscle; owing to years of physical work among the gardens and pillars of the various temples of Thylea. Deep brown eyes peer intelligently from beneath a pronounced brow, haunted by his past, yet showing the resolve deep within himself to keep going. Brief Character History: Karipos' parents were murdered by a Dragon! At least, that was what he 'knew' to be true. He had been found crying on the steps of one of the temples of The Five Gods, and taken in to be raised amongst the various priests and workmen that inhabited the Holy Site. Growing up nurtured by the Oracles, the young lad was able to pick up various tricks of divination used by some of the Seers; by implementing Mystical Cards to deduce the fate of others. Other instruction by the workers of the temple gave him the ability to discern basic cues as to when someone was being honest (or less than so) by reading their voice, inflection, and how they held their body when talking. As the boy grew into adolescence, He was given more physical tasks in accordance with the upkeep, and general maintenance, of the Temple structures. Being lent out to various other locations across Thylea to work, and repay the Gods the cost of his upbringing. Having spent years dedicated to their service, Karipos is a true believer in all Omens, Oaths, and the existence of the Supernatural. Striving tirelessly in both the perfection of his craft, and in seeking retribution for the slaying of his parents. To this effect, Karipos may serve two masters in regards to what he believes his true destiny may be. Creative Writing Sample: *Crack* The sound of a chunk of marble breaking loose from the ceiling above causes Karipos to snap his head upwards. Quickly, he pumped his legs towards the Oracle, knocking her to the ground as he dove overtop of her now prostrate body. Attempting to shield the soft, supple, skin of her near naked form from the rough edges of the broken rock, the young man waits for what seems an eternity to feel the impact that he is sure is about to befall them. Instead, a solid thud reveals that the debris had actually fallen several feet from where the pair now lay. Awkwardly intertwined as they were, in their uncomfortable embrace. Hushed gasps and sounds of disproval begin to swell around the enclosed area, as he begins to raise himself from the floor in front of the aghast onlookers. Trying vainly to dust his embarrassment from his vestments, he makes his way towards the corridor. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Mistress. I'll see to the roof right away..." He sheepishly called over his shoulder, to the still sprawled Oracle. Before hurriedly making his way out of the Temple in search of some form of solace. Rumors Heretic - I heard that Karipos hates The Five Gods, he blames them for his parent's deaths Trickery - I heard that the fortunes Karipos reads NEVER actually come true Incestuous - I heard that Karipos only remains in the temple for "Carnal" Considerations