[D&D-5e] Spelljammer: Light of Xaryxis

[Touketsu]

Game Name Spelljammer: Light of Xaryxis

Game System DnD 5e

Theme Campy space adventure a la Flash Gordon, zany and over the top situations, unlikely heroes saving the world

Flavour A healthy balance of roleplay and roll-play. High adventure with some astral ship combat.

Game Summary When a cosmic enemy is threatening to destroy the world, brave heroes must do everything in their power to save it. Travel across the teeming oceans of Wildspace to the silvery void of the Astral Sea and beyond. Along the way, you’ll make bizarre friends, encounter terrifying foes, and face one cliffhanger after another. Can you save your world before time runs out? Plot Summary Another fine day at Silverpoint Harbor, the bustling coastal community that serves as a gateway out to the Gleaming Sea. Vessels of all size, from local fishing boats to large trade vessels from far and wide, share the busy docks, the smell of the salty ocean air reaching up the hill into the town proper. Silverpoint's hardy, but welcoming people are known for their good nature and steadfast spirits, and even a total stranger can find themselves sharing a table with good company, regaled with the latest news or a local legend. Lately however, everyone has been discussing the deluge of falling stars that has lit up the evening sky for the past several nights. Some say these celestial events are omens of impending disaster. Others believe they are a precursor to the gods descending from the heavens to walk the land. No one knows for sure. You are just finishing your midday meal while listening to a blacksmith tell about being awakened last night by a loud crash. According to the smith, a strange vine burst out of the ground and punched a hole through the roof of his neighbor’s bakery. "Must be divine punishment for the bad pies and steep prices," says the blacksmith with a nervous chuckle. Suddenly, the earth shakes violently beneath your feet. You hear the dull roar of a distant eruption. The smith and several others hurry outside. Joining them, you see a sinuous, crystalline vine erupting from the ground a few blocks away—tall enough to be seen above the rooftops. Screams of panic rise from the same direction. And then, the ground begins to churn again, eruptions bursting through the streets around you… Character Details Deadline for Applications will be October 3rd. Allowed Sources: PHB, XGTE, TCoE, MotM, Astral Adventurer's Guide (No Astral Elves) Ability Scores: Either 27-Point Buy or Rolled, by party consensus. Equipment: Starting equipment and gold as per Class and Background (or you can roll for starting wealth), plus 700 gp to spend on non-magical gear. Hit Points: Max at 1st level, either roll or take class average for remaining levels. I'm looking for 5 players, with a post rate of about once or twice per week. Characters will begin at Level 5, advancing to Level 8 by the conclusion of the adventure. This means you're already a little seasoned, so don't be afraid to give your character a few accolades! I have no restrictions on alignment; if you want to play evil, I'll allow it, as long as you are capable of working with the party. The ultimate goal of the party will be to prevent the destruction of their world, a motivation I would think is easily shared by conflicting moral compasses. With the exception of Astral Elves, I'm allowing all the new races from the AAG. For those who are unfamiliar, this includes: Autognome: Small, mechanical beings built by rock gnomes. Giff: Large, hippo-like folk with a psychic connection to the Astral Plane. Hadozee: Agile, simian humanoids with wings that allow them to glide. Plasmoid: Sentient oozes that can take humanoid shape. Thri-kreen: Four-armed, bipedal insectoids that communicate through telepathy. None of these races are native to the world where our story begins. This has little bearing on the overall story, but it will obviously factor into your backstory and motivations. What brought you to this world, and why do you want to save it? Application Template Name: Race: Class: Include subclass (or if you're still deciding, let me know what you have in mind.) Background: Custom is fine. You can choose traits from published sources or write your own if you'd like. Appearance: Picture preferred, or you can write a short paragraph. Or both! Description: No minimum or maximum here; just give me a basic idea of who you are! Backstory: What brings you to Silverpoint? Were you born here? Did you settle here after a long time on the road, or are you just passing through on your adventures? RP Sample: Build off the plot summary above. What were you doing the night before this chaos? How do you react as the turmoil unfolds?

[Touketsu]

Applications Player Name Character Name Race Class Status Retry Card Human (V) Artillerist Artificer Complete hafrogman Hannah Volkan Mountain Dwarf Swashbuckler Rogue Complete Chylopan       Interested GleefulNihilism Hee Limeson Hadozee Soulknife Rogue Complete KhamLuc Wollean Waterwind Plasmoid Sorcerer Complete delpinator Marvin Tenyll Harengon Rogue/Armorer Artificer Complete Onward Z'tohlex Plasmoid Moon Druid Complete Ysolde Artiya Waterborn Tiefling Fathomless Warlock Complete Grouchy Reginauld Weatherby Giff Hunter Ranger Complete AlphaZ Winslow Brock Giff Rune Knight Fighter Complete Ballingray Ashlee Human Swashbuckler Rogue Complete Still Pond Gloopglorp Plasmoid Shadow Monk Complete Snicker Toma Tumbelbum High Elf Drunken Master Monk Complete OsmundCinderholt Colder Jr. Custom LineageDohwar Artificer/Enchantment Wizard Complete O2CXt3 Topip Tinkercase Autognome Scribe Wizard Complete Jrod Nathaniel Harlow Human Rogue/Fathomless Warlock Complete RossN Lyrindal Moonbow Half-Elf Arcane Trickster Rogue Complete JustSomeGuy Oskur Verit Aasimar Old One Warlock Complete

Q & A I’ll copy questions asked and answered in the thread here for everyone’s convenience.   -Will firearms be available? Absolutely! What kind of over the top space adventure wouldn’t include guns? -Does the Monk ability "Deflect Missiles" apply to firearms? RAW? Yes. According to me? HELL yes.

[kymrel]

 

Angelo Thal Name: Angelo Thal Race: Human (Variant) Class: Bard (College of Eloquence) 3, Warlock (Hexblade) 2 Background: Noble Personality Traits: - I love to experience new things, learn something previously hidden and meet new and interesting people. - I belief that a peaceful solution is always preferable to taking up arms but am pragmatic enough to know that sometimes force must be used. Ideal: Responsibility. Our duty is to preserve history and facts for future generations. Bond: I want to study the history of every culture that exists in this world in order to better my understanding of the universe. Flaw: Although I know I should take the long view I am often unable to make short-term sacrifices to earn a long-term win. Especially when those sacrifices are people. Appearance: Angelo is a tall and fit man in his early twenties with a mop of blonde hair and a fashionably trimmed equally blonde beard. His blue eyes and handsome features make him stand out in a crowd and his usually kind expression and pleasant mannerism makes him easy to like. Angelo usually dresses in good-quality clothes, favoring the blue and green colors from his family heraldry, although he never wears any jewelry or other items with that heraldry. When expecting trouble he tends to wear either a heavy leather armor or even a breastplate, and arm himself with a plain-looking but obviously very functional fencing sword and a matching dagger. Personality: Angelo is an old soul, or so his parents claim. Although he was always quite athletic, he was always more interested in dusty tomes and old tales than swordplay and carousing like so many young nobles. When he’s gotten himself into trouble it has mostly been due to his curiosity, but he’s usually been able to talk himself out of any major problems he’s encountered. He is highly pragmatic, but at the same time quite chivalric, and has made a habit of taking blame for problems caused by his friends, and accepting blame rather than trying to shift it onto someone, even when the opportunity presented itself.   Backstory: Angelo Thal was always a bookish child. The second son of Ergento Thal, the head of the Thal noble family of Waterdeep, Angelo received the best education money could buy with a series of reputable tutors who schooled him and his siblings. Stories of every kind, both those rooted in history and fantastic tales by creative authors were a particular favorite, and for a while the young noble thought he might be admitted into the clergy of Oghma as one of their learned brothers. It wasn’t lack of knowledge or ability that prevented his admission into the halls of the clergy, but his cynical nature and the fact that he wasn’t quite as devout a follower of the Lord of Knowledge as the holy fathers of the faith would have liked him to be. Instead, he ended up learning a great deal of things that had no practical application. Which he didn’t really see as a problem since money wasn’t really something he would ever have to worry about. Sadly for Angelo, his father and his older sister, Yvette, disagreed with his position on this and wanted to find some use for him. Both were fiercely ambitious and lobbied ceaselessly to get the Thals a seat on the Council of Nobles in Waterdeep. When Angelo turned out to be talented at swaying the ears of other nobles, but utterly uninterested in using his talents to curry favor for his family, his father and sister told him in no uncertain terms that his day of freeloading off his family were coming to an end. As he was quite disgusted with his family at that time, Angelo decided he needed a change of scenery and something worthwhile to occupy his time. And a natural target of his ambition was the august organization The Heralds of Faerûn. Angelo persuaded his old tutor, now a high-ranking faithful of Oghma in Neverwinter, to write him a letter of introduction and set off to Silverpoint to meet with the representative of the Heralds stationed there. The meeting did not go as Angelo had hoped for, but it was not entirely unsuccessful either. He had been hoping to be accepted as an assistant of one of the heralds, with the possibility of working his way up in the organization. Instead, he was told he lacked experience and knowledge to join the organization, but that he would be given opportunities to work with members, or agents working for members, on tasks where his talents or connections might be valuable. Although Angelo resented the idea at first, he soon came to love his new life. He never got to work with an actual herald, but went on several missions with small groups of specialists tasked with various important missions. Most would eventually benefit the Heralds in some way, but some would be done on behalf of The Map House. Some of the missions were completed without any problems, but on others complications would arise. Sometimes not so serious, problems that could be solved with a sound argument or gold slipped into eager palms. On other occasions only the fighting skills of his associates carried the day and allowed them to either complete the mission or at least get away with their lives. As he earned the trust of his masters with every mission completed, Angelo found that he was entrusted with more important tasks and eventually put in charge of small groups of specialists hired for challenging quests. On the last mission he was sent on, disaster struck. It began like many other missions. Angelo was sent to retrieve a document with an associate he’d worked with before, a sinister half-elf who went by the name Borock. He was a talented infiltrator and Angelo got the feeling talking to the man that he had done far worse things in his time than break into the study of a lord claiming to have documents confirming that he was the rightful ruler of his neighbor’s lands. Borock got them into the noble’s keep and into the study, where they discovered that the documents were likely faked, based on correspondence with a man Angelo knew to be a representative of the Black Network. As they were making their exit, Angelo stumbled into a pair of guards that had come to investigate a light they had seen in the study through the window. Knowing that they would be killed if captured to keep the secret of the noble, Angelo and Borock fought for their lives. Angelo had never been much of a fighter, but Borock was simply magnificent. As Angelo tried to remember the fighting stances taught to him by the fencing instructor his father had hired, Borock was cutting down men with his broad-bladed sword. But even a skilled killer like the half-elf could only fight off so many guards, and eventually he fell with a pike through his torso, just as Angelo’s fencing blade broke near the hilt as he parried a heavy blow from another guard. As he considered his options, knowing he had no chance against the remaining guards, Angelo noticed the blade carried by his companion fall to the ground. As it did, the weapon seemed to shift and turn, bouncing at an impossible angle and ending up at Angelo’s feet. He had a chance to live, and knew he had to take it. The hilt felt cool to his touch, and although it had been slick with blood before it now seemed clean, like the blood had been absorbed by the weapon, somehow. As Angelo lifted the longsword, much too heavy for him, he could feel the weapon getting lighter. Instead of the longsword wielded by Borock with terrifying efficiency, he was holding a plain-looking fencing blade, very similar to his own discarded weapon. The pair of guards that had taken Borock from behind charged him, leveling their pikes at his torso. Angelo knew he was doomed, but his sword seemed to have a mind of its own. He somehow managed to parry and sidestep every thrust, and counter with deadly strikes at exposed faces and throats. Before he knew it, he had felled six guards, something he knew was well beyond his meager abilities, and had a clear path to the open outer gate. Holding his new sword, Angelo ran into the night. He was hailed as a hero when he returned to Silverpoint with the evidence needed to debunk the false claims of the noble, but the experience had changed him, somehow. He still felt like himself, mostly, but now that he had Borock’s sword, he felt like he was connected to something bigger. He eventually told his superiors of this new development, fearing they would find him too unstable to use on further missions, and that his honesty would cost him any chance he might ever have of joining the Heralds. His fears turned out to be somewhat justified as his superiors told him that they would consider the matter carefully, and then sent him away until such time as they might see fit to summon him again.   RP Sample: There was a reason Angelo tended not to overdo it when it came to drink. His physical condition as he crawled down from his room to break his fast as most people were eating their midday meal was chief among those reasons. His hand shook as he reached for the plate of cold-cuts and cheese in front of him. Why did he take that stupid gnome’s advice and drown his sorrows after the disastrous meeting with his superiors yesterday? To be honest he had been rather deep in his cups when the unsolicited advice was given, but it still felt better to have someone to blame. The little fellow had taken Angelo with him to where the common people went drinking in Silverpoint. Which was, not surprisingly, a world away from the gentleman’s club where the young noble tended to have his afternoon tea and cognac. Apparently, the common folks in Silverpoint liked their drinks unwatered and the entertainment scantily clad and rowdy. But not scantily clad and rowdy in a nice way. The gnome had taken him to an underground fighting pit where people wearing less armor than could be considered prudent, wielding nastier weapons than they really needed were going to town on each other to entertain the bloodthirsty crowd. Although not his cup of tea on a normal day, there was something about the gladiatorial spectacle that appealed to Angelo on that particular night. He found himself caught up in the simplicity of it all. With an unimaginably complex life like his, the life of the pit fighter seemed simple in comparison. A small fighting pit, sandy floor and an opponent trying to pummel you into submission. Or probably kill you. Simple. "Ten gold on the dwarf lass!" the heavily inebriated noble had shouted. The locals gave him a look of pity. Clearly the bloodied dwarf was an underdog and looked like she was losing badly to the massive half-orc. Perhaps betting on her was his way of squandering what little remained of the gold he had gotten from his father when he left his estate in Waterdeep almost a year ago. Or perhaps one liar can recognize another. The dwarf might not be saying much, but she was lying with every fiber of her being. Trying to convince everyone she was in danger, when in fact she was in control the entire fight. Trying to convince everyone and succeeding. But a liar recognizes a liar. Or so Angelo told himself when the half-orc lay bleeding on the floor. And it was his narrative, his choice. Angelo slowly started feeling better as the food settled in his stomach. Well. The food and the rather decent white wine he washed it down with. He chuckled to himself and patted the pouch hanging from his belt. The odds on the dwarf lass, Hannah, had been long indeed when he placed the bet. He spent most of the proceeds buying drinks for the locals, knowing he’d not be allowed to walk away unharmed with all the gold he won in his purse anyway, but he still came out ahead. And made a lot of new and interesting drinking buddies in the process. He was barely paying attention as the locals discussed the falling stars phenomenon that had been troubling them recently. It was something he would normally be quite interested in, but today he mostly just wanted to nurse his hangover and pine over the fact that he would probably never become a member of the august Heralds of Faerûn. Angelo’s reverie was broken as the earth shook violently. "Oh gods, I think I’m going to be sick," he murmured, speaking to no one in particular, but then he noticed that he was not the only one who felt it. In fact, the earth seemed to have moved for everyone. Angelo slowly got to his feet, polishing off the glass of wine but leaving the rest of his food as he headed for the door. Something was clearly happening out there and he might as well take a look to see what was going on. He scratched his beard as he saw a lithe form running in front of him. Was that the dwarf pit-fighter from last night?

[Retry]

Character Application Name: Card (Lionel Card) [he/him] Race: Variant Human Class: Artificer (Artillerist) 5 Background: Ex-Pirate Sailor Personality Traits: - I like a job well done, especially if I can convince someone else to do it. - I stretch the truth for the sake of a good story Ideals: - Fairness. We all do the work, so we all share in the rewards. (Lawful) Bonds: - The ship is most important - crewmates and captains come and go. Flaws: - My pride will probably lead to my destruction. Appearance: A stern and rough looking older human who, like the rocky shores of the beaches has been weathered by the ocean's grace and fury over the years. A mix of tan and sun burnt skin is mostly covered by simple clothing worn. Gray and white hair stand as a testament to the long since faded dark brown that was a few shades off of the mahogany brown eyes that peer out amid serious squinting eyes and crows feet. Fairly average in height and with a firm build that had softened over the years Card has the appearance of your typical shop keep in a port town. Description: An old adventurer-turned shop keep (hopefully) turned adventurer again. Card is a rough-and-tumble old guy who has had his fill of adventures in his early years and chose a more peaceful life instead. Yet, when trouble is on the horizon and the youngin' aren't rallying the way he would in his hayday, Card would step in to lend his skills where needed. Even more so if his kids and grandchildren could be affected by whatever is going on! A craftsman who has dealt with adventuring parties many times in his shop, Card does not suffer foolish or selfish individuals well. This has lead to many dismissing him as a simple 'cranky old man.' Backstory: In his youth, Card was the adventurous sort. Living life upon the open sea as a shipwright for the Serene Fate. Those days were full of peril and wonder. Venturing from port to port, exploring uncharted islands, waging combat upon other watery vessels for.... reasons. Yes, those were the days. It wasn't until the fates were not so serene that the sea swallowed the ship, his home, whole and cast him out to a watery grave. It was by those same whimsical fates that stole his home from him, that lay him out upon the shores of Silverpoint. The next few years were spent chasing down any rumor or word of his fellow mates only to come up with nothing but a hand full of the sea's breeze. Time passed by and Card had settled into the simple role of a shop keep. Met a fellow ex-adventurer and got married, had children, grew older, watched their children have children of their own, watched as his love passed graceful from this life to the next... Recently. The world had seemed... boring. It was just him and the shop. Of course, there was the infrequent visit by the kids and their youngins, but between those joyous visits here and there things had grown mundane. The memories of his youth play on repeat in his head. The only thing keeping his skills from dulling these days were the occasional run-ins with foolish adventurers wanting this and that for unreasonable prices. Card could only hope for a change, for one last thrill before the fates came calling once more. RP Sample:   The meal was a welcomed change from the typical wheat porridge that served as a daily stable. Never really one for cooking, splurging on this simple bread, cheese, and dried fruit was likely another desperate attempt by the old carver for some change. Some excitement in a world of mundane. Listening to the smith prattle on about divinity only garnered a disgruntled scoff from the carver. "Their prices are fine!" the old codger snapped "Prolly selling you their old stuff at a higher pinch on the rumor you be lustin after their grown kid!" It was the worst kept secret in the town. Likely only the smith believed their advances for equipment and tools were a secret. Yet, that was niether here nor there. Card would be damned if he let the bakery take flack from a poor excuse for a smith. As the ground shook and roared the ex-sailor quickly shoved what was left of his bread into his mouth and stood placing a few copper onto the plate where they were more likely to stay. Grabbing his finely carved cane that was more an accessory than anything, Card exited to see what all the ruckus was about.

[Touketsu]

Originally Posted by Retry

Going to note interest and drop a placeholder right here

Edit:
Is there a typo for the deadline or are we to go back in time?

Crap, what? How did I accidentally write the 3rd, I meant the 26th damn it I’m a big dummie

Ahem… what, you don’t have a time machine? I thought everybody did! Well… I GUESS I can be accommodating and move up the date to the future instead.

[Lazer]

 

Orgug (once Scourge of the Red Plain) Name: Orgug Race: Half Orc Class: Barbarian, Path of the Zealot Background: Far Traveller Personality Traits: I grumble constantly. My secret hope is that one day the gods will consider the scales rebalanced, and I will finally be allowed to rest. Ideal: Strength. Violence is the ultimate adjudicator. Bond: I am bound by the gods to protect those whom I once enslaved. Flaw: I might be protecting you but I don't have to like it. The modern age is but a pale shadow of the glorious past. Appearance: A half-orc who proudly displays his orcish heritage, Orgug stands 6' 6" and has muscles to spare. His long hair and bristly beard turned grey even before the first time that he died, and his wrinkles are hidden behind numerous scars, as each time he is resurrected his skin bears the record of his previous battles. Personality: The arrogance which once marked this mighty conqueror gave way over the eons to bitterness, which in turn faded to a sullen resentment as he came to realise that his fate could not be changed. Despite his grumbling, however, the numerous heroes which Orgug has fought alongside over the years have rubbed off on him, and he grudgingly respects, even admires, some members of the 'lesser' races. He could never possibly admit this, however, instead his insults turn to banter and he rushes to defend those few worthies without even being asked. Backstory Backstory: There was a time when the orc tribes clenched the throat of the entire world, when the Children of I’m assuming it’s the standard D&D pantheon?Gruumsh were ascendant and the weaker races were forced to pay their dues. Orgug had been the supreme war leader, and his armies had swept all aside. He had bathed in the blood of his enemies and feasted on their spleens. And then, through trickery and deception, he had been defeated. He had faced his foes, slaughtering them one after another, but finally had been overcome, had been killed. He should have found himself at the right-hand of Gruumsh, fighting in the Eternal Conquest, reaping endless glory. Unfortunately his victims had demanded 'reparations', and Gruumsh had relented. Orgug was made an eternal champion, protector of those whom he had once enslaved. Whenever a new threat arose, he would be awakened and forced to do battle in the name of his former enemies. Since that distant age he has been awoken many times; battling giants, the undead, terrifying monsters, and runaway inflation. RP Sample A black more absolute than that of the deepest of caverns suddenly gave way. The light burned his very soul and his mouth parted to cry out, but there was no air to carry the howl. His lungs heaved and pulled the fire down into them, where it then spread out from his centre so that gradually every bit of his being was agony. Eventually the pain subsided enough that his mind was able to coalesce once again. Oh great, was Orgug’s first thought, what do they want this time? When he could finally open his eyes, after the twin spikes of fire had finished skewering his brain, he looked around and found that he was in a temple. This was as he had expected, only one time in the last few resurrections had he found himself somewhere else, and that had happened to be in the hold of a merchant vessel, much to the surprise of the self-styled ‘archaeologist’ who had awoken him. Apparently his axe, Grumgusk, had been misplaced over the centuries and this fool hadn’t even been aware of what he had found. That gnome should rightfully have been flayed alive for the insult, but of course the magic which bound him to life would never have allowed that, but the stream of invective which Orgug visited upon the oaf was almost as satisfying. This time he was on a stone alter, Grumgusk clenched in both hands on his chest. He was, of course, naked, but such things had never bothered the Scourge of the Red Plains. He sat up, refusing to so much as wince at the resurgent pain which engulfed his body. Show no weakness. If every iota of his being was burned away, that would be the last vestige, it was the foundation of his soul. "Who hath summoned me?!" he bellowed, his voice cracking only slightly. "You had better have a good reason for it! I swear, if eldritch horrors are not about to tear down these walls…" he trailed off, trying to let the threat linger, although the main reason he didn’t finish was because he knew that he could do nothing to avenge the slight. He would just have to suffer the fools, as he had done for uncounted generations. He hoped at least to be able to take out his frustration on some kobolds. Or the wizards of a magical cult, perhaps. Or even a sewerful of giant rats if that was all that was available. "Hello?" he called. His voice echoed back at him from the vaulted ceiling. Honestly, what kind of priest would summon their Undead Champion, their god’s ultimate weapon, and then just leave? He swung his legs over the side of the alter and then dropped heavily to the ground. The pain had almost completely receded now and he could feel his muscles tensing, itching for a fight. He gripped Grumgusk in his right hand and scratched his balls with his left, then raised it to sniff his finger nails. Just as his hand was half-way up, however, a door opened somewhere behind him. "FINALLY," he bellowed, swinging around to glare at the newcomer. "Now who do you want me to kill?" Note: If I am selected and there is a cleric in the party (or someone who is particularly devout), and if they are willing to try this, I would be happy for Orgug to be their minion, of sorts. I think it could make for a fun dynamic.

[hafrogman]

Oooh, a Touketsu game! I missed my chance before, but now I am ready! I have an idea for an elderly gentleman thief named John Alias... okay, not really. But oddly enough, same class.

Application Name: Hannah Volkan Race: Dwarf (Mountain) Class: Rogue (Swashbuckler) Background: Gladiator Personality Trait: Like a nomad, I can't settle down in one place for very long. Personality Trait: When I see others struggling, I offer to help. Ideal: Competition. I strive to test myself in all things. (Chaotic) Bond: Nothing is more important than the other members of my family. Flaw: I don't know when to quit. Especially when everyone else is telling me to. Flaw: I'd rather eat my armor than admit that I don't know what I'm doing. Appearance: Lithe and nimble, particularly so for one of her kind, Hannah turns certain dwarven stereotypes on their heads, while still managing to look like she was carved from solid stone. Her career has led her to eschew the quiet utilitarianism of her homeland, favoring the flashy yet still deadly. Iconic, eye-catching and heavily decorated, her armor and costume are perhaps not as effective as they could be, the audience likes nothing more than a little blood now and again. Her personal style mimics that of her equipment. Piercings, dramatic make-up, and a partially shaven head... all combine to give her a distinctive and memorable look. Description: Hanna carries herself with all the confidence of a woman who makes a living knocking other people on their rear-ends. In combat she is brassy and bold, relying just as much on the force of her personality as on the tip of her sword. But outside the ring, she is (slightly) more reserved, with a quiet self-confidence and a dry wit. She has no need of the loud-mouthed braggadocio of some of her competitors. Still, for all her success and skill, the thrills of the arena and fighting for coin have begun to pall after many years. Perhaps there is something more out there? Backstory: Seven sons, each broader and hairier than the last. Seven sons born to Jethro Volkan and his long-suffering wife. Seven sons... and one daughter. Hannah was the eighth and last-born child of Jethro. She was a small child, and though she grew up tall enough (Not too tall, of course. She's still a dwarf.), she never achieved anything close to the bulk of her brothers, which led to no small amount of paternal neglect. Jethro didn't need a child who couldn't work, he needed strong arms and strong backs to work his claim with him. When the orcish economy collapsed, increased raids upon the more remote dwarven settlements drove many dwarves to seek new homes. The elder Volkan chose to delve even further into the granite peaks, in search of riches buried deep in the heart of the mountain range. He had found his fortune, he knew it... he just needed the willpower and the workforce to extract from it's rocky tomb. But no matter how hard Volkan and his sons labored, the mountains refused to cede more than a pittance of gold to their efforts. In truth, the merest hint of gold was worse than finding nothing at all, because it fed Jethro's stubborn convictions. This was the life Hannah found herself born into, a father who had no use for her, and a mother beaten down by life's hardships. To her brothers, she simply became eighth among their number. Brawling came naturally to her, and she soon learned to hold her own against the roughhousing and hazing that were the primary expression of affection among them all. She was younger and smaller than all of them, so she had to become twice as tough as any of them. And she did. Her second eldest brother, Bix, was the first among them to leave. The walls of the bunkhouse reverberated with the argument he had with Dad the night before. He left with the dawn, putting the first cracks into their family. No, that was unfair. Just like chipping away at a fault in the rock, Bix hadn't put the cracks there... he'd simply let them become seen. There was no future to be had among these barren rocks, and Dad was too damned stubborn to see it. Slowly, but surely, the other six brothers started making their own plans to depart, to set off seeking their own fortunes. The mine had produced no wealth, but it had taught them all skills that would be useful enough elsewhere... in less impoverished regions. Except Hannah. She'd never worked the mines, all she really knew how to do was fight. As more brothers left, an icy sullenness settled across the camp and Hannah made her choice. She didn't know where she'd go, but she knew how to start. When you're at the top of a mountain, the only way to go is down. The young dwarven lass could have become a soldier, or brigand or even an adventurer. It all depended on what she met on that road down into the valleys below, on which forks she took and which paths she spurned. In the end it was no more than happenstance that led her to Bjorn's, a disreputable roadside establishment with even more disreputable clientele. She had a hunger in her belly, little coin to her name and a sword strapped to her belt. A burly man, convinced by stupidity and drink of his own immortality, was challenging all comers... with gold on the line! That was merely the first bout of what would become a long-lived career. As she grew into her skills and persona, Hannah eventually graduated from sleazy knife fights to chasing glory among the glorious arenas of the southlands. Hannah Volkan has traveled up and down the coasts of the Glimmering Sea and fought for her supper everywhere she went. But lately, the victories have felt hollow. The roaring crowds chant her name and her blood sings, but after the bout... what is left? Her sixth brother Hect settled in Silverpoint Harbor several years ago. He had always been the wisest and most level-headed of her brothers. Perhaps it was time to pay him a visit, to reconnect... to catch up... and to perhaps get his opinion.   RP Sample A quick flash of steel, a spray of blood, droplets scattered across the filthy straw that littered the ground. Hannah Volkan twirled away from her opponent, the crowds' feet pounding out a rhythm that matched the beating of her heart. In truth, this place was a hole. Literally. The basement of some grubby tavern with a few makeshift stands and a wooden palisade to keep the spectators from falling in, this was a far cry from the dedicated arenas of the southland with their hot sands and their soaring marble arches. But it didn't matter if her audience was measured in dozens or hundreds, she would play for them just the same. She stood there a moment, facing away, her sword raised to the sky (or at least the ceiling above), basking in the roaring cheers. Of course, turning one's back on one's opponent would be a foolish move in any real fight... but this hardly qualified. Hannah pirouetted on one foot, ready to shift her weight in order to dodge the next swing of... the man currently huddled against the far wall, clutching at the back of his hand. His spiked club lay forgotten on the ground between them. Had he... had he dropped his weapon? She took a moment to reassess her opponent. The half-orc brute stood at least two feet taller than her, but apparently none of that excess twenty-four inches was occupied by anything resembling a brain. The quality of combatant was unfortunately well matched to the quality of the venue. Apparently, she was going to have to do this all by herself. The dwarven gladiator mockingly re-sheathed her blade to a smattering of laughter from the crowd, then stepped forward, gesturing in that universally understood language. 'Come at me, bro.' "You little bi-" He snarled and obligingly rushed forward halfway through his own oath, arms spread wide... and way too high. Was he used to wrestling ogres? Even if she hadn't been ducking out of the way, he never would have come close to laying a single meaty, green finger on her. It was child's play to roll forward, knocking the hulking slab of man-meat ass over teakettle... where he landed gratifyingly close to his fallen club. She backed away a moment, redrawing her blade and waiting for him to put two and two together. It took a depressingly long time for the green-tinged gentleman to master basic arithmetic, but he eventually rose to his feet, armed once more. Hannah stepped into his next swing instead of relying on her usual acrobatic evasion. Her sword was not designed to parry a blow like that, so she took the brunt on her armored arm. Oof. Even having come in close to avoid the spikes, that hurt. She was able to bring her free arm up to bind the weapon... temporarily. For all the muscle stored between his ears, he clearly kept a fair supply in his arms as well. But for now, she could hiss in his ear... or at least up towards it, without the crowd overhearing. "You need to get your act together! I'll try to start telegraphing more, but you have got to look like you know what you're doing. You've got height and reach on me. Big sweeping swings, right? Make me keep my distance. And for Moradin's sake, keep your guard down. I'm a dwarf, not a gods damned giant!" The confused look upon her opponent's face was not reassuring, but he mercifully kept up the pressure, nearly bending her over backwards with his brutish strength. "Why are you trying to help me? Don't you want to win?" The dwarf just rolled her eyes. "I'm not here to win...", taking a deep breath, she relaxed the grip on his club and allowed the spikes to sink, just about half an inch, into her bare left shoulder. A rictus grin of pain and glory spread wide across her face, "...I'm here to make money!" Trickles of blood flowed freely down her arm now and she pulled back from the spikes, quickly ducking out of the clinch and rolling away. Concerned whispers grew among the crowd above her and she could just imagine the renewed round of betting as the oddsmakers made their circuit. She nodded to the orc and tapped her right foot, just once, before darting forward in a quick lunge. This time his swing was gratifyingly low, the spikes cutting small grooves in the dirt beneath the straw. Hannah was forced to course correct and fetched up hard against the palisade. Good. She stood quickly, shaking her head to clear it. Now they could get down to business. "How's Dad these days?" Hannah's second youngest brother (still several years her senior) looked over at the question. He'd been too caught up in whatever tale the man at the other end of the table was spinning. Hect shrugged eloquently. "Same as ever. You know Dad, still convinced that one of these days that mine is suddenly going to start churning out gold..." He grimaced a little. "Just him and mom now. You heard that Sette left?" Hannah nodded idly and drew a small circle on the table with the condensation from her ale. "Yeah... joined the navy. A Volkan on the high seas... who would have thought it?" She'd gotten a letter from her youngest brother a few months ago... or had it been last year? Not important. That wasn't what had brought her to Silverpoint, and she certainly hadn't come here for the gladiatorial scene. That thing last night had been... well, at least it had paid for their lunch today. "Listen, Hect..." Hannah paused, unsure how to proceed. She'd always been closest to her sixth brother, but it'd been a few years... how do you tell someone that you have no idea what you're doing with your life anymore? She was saved from her verbal quandary by a sudden shaking, and a whole new set of words sprang readily to her lips. "What the fu-" Her astonishment at the distant vines was cut off abruptly as the ground beneath their very feet started reverberating. In a flash, Hannah jumped onto the table and launched herself at her brother, tumbling the both of them to the ground as a crystalline growth obliterated the bench he'd been sitting on a moment before. Her own issues forgotten, Hannah glanced at Hect, then away to the vines suddenly blotting out the sky. "Oh, I gotta see this!"

[Chylopan]

Posting interest.

Didn't manage to get in on time for the other game, may try my hand with this one!

[GleefulNihilism]

Flying Squirrel Psychic Monkey Space Pirate "That sounds like it be a You-Problem. I just came with the Ship." Name: Hee Limeson Race: Hadozee Alignment: CG, but in denial about it and thinks he is CN. Class: Rogue (Soulknife) Background: Criminal Appearance: Hadozee aren't known for being particularly large to start with, Hee is small enough that it works to his advantage in multiple ways. One of them is that on worlds that aren't familiar with the Hadozee he can pass for just a normal monkey if he plays his cards right, something he's gladly taken advantage of. He does have some dignity though, hence why he prefers to dress like the little pirate he is. He'll lie, but he wants to control the lie a bit. Sometimes. Of course, the ability to make psychic daggers so he's never truly unarmed definitely never hurts. Description: Two things always surprise people about Hee. How small the little Pirate Monkey actually is, and how fast he can make you forget that. A large personality that's quick to laugh, quick to anger, and quick to love he's actually quite friendly, and he's in utter denial of that fact. He tells himself he's a tough-guy space pirate who cares for nobody more than he cares for himself, but you'll have a friend for life before anyone realizes it. A rude little jerk that seems to be out for himself above all else, but he just somehow keeps ending up doing the right thing. He tells himself that he doesn't care that there's something out there destroying whole worlds. It's not like he even *has* a homeworld - but then he's right there trying to help evacuations. He's a liar who lies to himself the most, and being an experienced sailor of the Astral Seas you never quite know where he will pop up next. Backstory: One thing that sounds like one of Hee's lies that really isn't is his claim of being a lifelong Space Pirate. No, that's completely true. His Mother was the Quartermaster of a particularly notorious Spelljammer Pirate Ship, his Father a Wellerman - a sea-faring merchant that specializes in selling supplies to other ships. He was *quite literally* born into the crew of a ship of Space Pirates and will die one if he's too be believed. It's actually why he's called the Limeson, he's got so much experience on Spelljammers that he's actually named for something the crews eat to keep from getting Scurvy. He doesn't even know which world is the Hadozee homeworld, and to be honest he doesn't particularly care. Why would we? He lives on the the Pink-and-Silver Seas, he has all of existance before him as long as he has a decent ship with a good crew. Which is a bit of a problem right now admittedly. His original ship was taken down not long ago, and while he managed to slip out of the fingers of the authorities he's currently a sailor without a ship or crew hiding out on a backwater world where he can pass for a lose wild animal if he's careful. But oh, those seas. He misses it so much that he often sneaks onto ships in port to take naps. So if ye be looking for an experienced sailor, yer crew be true and yer ship be right Hee is lookin' fer work. He could literally come with the ship if the timing is wrong, and while he says he considers the World-Destoyer someone else's problem, he says it with a crack in his voice that's only he seems to not notice. In the meantime, get out the Rum and he'll tell you about the time he sailed around the Plane of Order... RP Sample Ah, a good ship to port with it's crew on shore leave. Hee always loved it when this happened in Silverpoint. True, the Blue Seas weren't as good as the Black-and-Astral, but the ships had their own charm. Night had fallen, and that meant one thing for Hee Limeson. Time to sneak into the ship's Rum stores and get a decent night's sleep. One of the perks of having such a small body, it doesn't actually take much drinking to get the effect going proper. Some men were Angry Drunks, some were Sad Drunks, he even knew a man who was a Clarvoyent Drunk once - but Hee was a Happy Drunk. Which meant Singing on nights like this. "There once was a Ship that Put to Sea And the name of the Ship was the Billy-O-Tea *hic* The winds blew up, her bow dipped down Oh blow, my bully boys, blow (huh)" He didn't actually remember the name of this ship anymore, he just knew it was mostly empty. Unfortunately he just starts singing louder and louder until - "I swear, I heard someone singing down here." Uh oh, think fast. Ooo-Ooo. "See something?" "Someone's pet Monkey, I think. The Captain's? He's dressed like a little Pirate, it's kind of adorable." That's right, now act like you've found a tick and eat it. he thinks to himself, rolling his neck. "Alright, let's keep looking." *hic* The out of work Sailer woken up by the sound of crashing, startling enough to be rolled out of the makeshift cot and fall to the floor. What the - what the Hells and Seas was that? He scampers up to the top deck to get a look, and crystal spires start to climb into the sky and - he tells himself he doesn't care. There's people at the docks, panicking people. He tells himself he doesn't care. He tells himself that the smart thing would be to shove off, the towers were coming form the land so any big Waves will take some time to get here. Plenty of time to get far enough out to sea to safetly. Plenty of time. "RAISE THE PLANK! LEAVE THE POOR SOULS!" someone nearby calls out, and Hee knows exactly what to do. "Belay that Order, I think." says the Magic Monkey with a Manifested Dagger in the Man's Back. Of course it looks like the man just picked up a new pet. Who could be the wiser? "BELAY THAT ORDER!" "How many Passengers do ye think this ship can handle safely? Just out and back again until the Shake stops." "100? Maybe 120? After Crew of Course." "Let's say 150, but as many of them being families with Children as possible. Fair Comprimise, I think." "150 SOULS! AS MANY OF THEM BEING FAMILIES WITH CHILDREN AS YE CAN MANAGE! QUICKLY!" "Aye, Good man." Hee gives, then he slips back and disappears under the decks again, because that is not going to work again. Best not push ye luck. He tells himself he doesn't care, but he's a horrible liar.

[KhamLuc]

WIP

Name: Wollean WaterWind Race: Plasmoids Alignment: N Class: Sorcerer ... or else !??! Maybe with a some Paladin Level ... depending if need some tank in the party Personality: trust every one , like to always have some movement somehow ... or she fall to sleep mode ... and its hapen very easely. She try to understand how people work in their head but she almost never remember the lecons she learn Backstory: "Euh BAck Story ... AHhh you mean my past ... Euh .. .nope don't think so .. .don't have that !?!? " "Rock of Bral...What a place to be create... i'm no good to social ... pff like it's important... I don't even know what it is ...maybe one days someone will explain it to me. Well lets follow this captain ... always have someting to do on a ship that nobody want to..." " HI ! I like to... " " ...Go ahead raise that, the ship get out NOW ... " tell the man with strange leather armor Wollean Talk to herself after have raise the anchor " ... and here we go direction toward Faerun on Toril, to the Island of Nimbral, one of the spelljammer ports ... Well that what it is written on this captain Journal, cause my memories fade out so quickly ... everyone remember everything ... but ME ... I remember my name only if people talk to me in the last hour calling for me by my name ... I'm kinda small fish in the ocean ! Anyway nothing important .. except been in motion or moving or change form ... HO look at my pod WOuuhou never done that before... " ...Then stop motion for a long time lapse... "... EUhh ... ship not move at all ... dont like that ... lets get out here ... OH some written ... it said : Spe..ll...jam...ming a...cad...ennemy " " Lets see that...sound cool" Before Wollean can knock at the door, the ground begin to shake and some Giant Vine get out form nowhere, pushing here from aside. She look at the first windows and begin to shout at it " HOooOKee ... if you take it that wayyy.. you don't have to be RUDE .. just say so that I'm not welcome here !!! " She turn around and return to the port where every body seem to be agitate and seem to need some help with rampaging vine too. "Ho yes People to help ... wait for MeeEee ... I want to help you !... I CAn HELP ... ?!? Can I help ? "

RP EXAMPLE in an alternate reality of Wollean

Searching for the GateHouse Wollean Climb up quickly, one hand on the rope ... the other make some cavities/holes on the surface of the wall with her now pseudo pod replacing hand coming from her inner biological mutation to transform herself as medusa like wave and seeking blood like a shark. Once Up on the building she look at Izzie. "good job with the rope ... BUT NEVERAGAIN PUT YOURSELF IN DANGER LIKE THAT" making a serious face then smile as if it is a joke "...Help Grodak to tighten the rope, the best you can ... I'll take the last guard on the roof" Izzie's face change for sadness but become relief and happy to help when she see that her new liberator make jokes with her even in crisis situation. "[IMG] [/IMG]OKYDOKEY". That was very long time someone hasn't smile and be proud of her and Wollean make that many time in the last hour. then, Izzie turn around to deal with the massive weight of Grodak that is trying to climb up a difficult wall but Successfully find some grab to finish beside the little Goblin. She send a message to Grodack in his head "... Dice * advantage give by Izzie to help Grodak climb the wall with the rope: 1d20+7sch13 (17)+7 ✔ Total = 24 retry ... Use the rope one hand Izzie will secure it and use the hole that I made when I climb up" Wollean Look far away in the direction of the other blockhouse and observing for a second, Ignus, her lighthead impulsive brother, that enter in action after dismounting the Drider. "Take care brother... I wish them Good luck against you " shooting him the message in the head of ignous Wollean closed up the guard quickly and try to engulf the mouth two time with her Frigid punch to tries to knuckle him down in silence, trying to gain some time waiting for her new retreive brother to join her to descend in the blockhouse. She was sure that it is not gonna be a piece of cake. SHe then have a tought for her sister " Kara, Watch your back and if any trouble call me .. I'll be their to watch it ... I means ... your back"

 

WIP ... will be done if CHoosen Wollean WaterWind Water Genasi 3lvl Bard/3lvl BloodHunter "Elemental Diva" HP: 39-5/39 HAlf dmg for S-P-B Hit Die: 3d8+3d10 "roll 39" | AC 12+1 | PP 11 | PI14 | Profencies: +3 STR 14(+2) DEX 14(+5) CON 10(0) INT 13(+1) WIS 10(0) CHA 14(+5) Weapons: Glaive: +5, 1d10+2 (reroll 1-2)| Dagger (SAI)two-weapon fighting: +5 1d4+2 /+5 1d4+2|Longsword +5 1d8+2 | Transform Pod/Hand +5 1d6+4Slash +1d4 cold/+5 1d6+4Slash +1d4 cold ( Fighting Style : two-weapon fighting) Skill (Expertise) : Acrobatics +3, Animal Handling +1, Arcana +2, Athletics +8, Deception +8, History +2, Insight +3, Intimidation +3, Investigation +4, Medicine +1, Nature +2, Perception +1 (adv Smell/hear), Performance +3, Persuasion +5, Religion +2, Sleight of Hand +3, Stealth +5, Survival +1| Spell Casting Ability: Charisma +4 DC12 Spell slots: lvl1: 2/4|lvl2: 0/2 SPELL SAVE DC13, Spell Attack Bonus: +5, Spell Focus: Weapon with proficient| Bardic Inpiration 0 /2 0: Message, Minor illusion (+ShapeWater) 1: Detect magic, Disguise self, Heroism, Healing Word, (+Create&Destroy water - 1xLRest) 2: Knock ,Enhance ability| Racial Traits: Create destroy water (can be used once per long rest) and Shape water at will. -Swimming speed 30 feet. Resistance to Acid,You can breathe air and water Background:City Watch / Watcher's Eye Your experience in enforcing the law, and dealing with lawbreakers, gives you a feel for local laws and criminals. You can easily find the local outpost of the watch or a similar organization, and just as easily pick out the dens of criminal activity in a community, although you're more likely to be welcome in the former locations rather than the latter.

[delpinator]

marvin Name: Marvin tenyll Race: harengon Class: rogue1/artificer(armorer 4) Background: urchin trait:I don't like to bathe. I ask a lot of questions. ideal: Change. The low are lifted up, and the high and mighty are brought down. Change is the nature of things. bond: I owe my survival to another urchin who taught me to live on the streets. flaw: If I'm outnumbered, I will run away from a fight. Appearance: dressed in what appears to be rags is a humanoid rabbit. They appear to be little more than a street urchin wielding a metal walking stick. Description: rabbit in battle gear. marvin is a drifter after loosing his home to strange creatures that pulled from the sea. He met fendrel crewe, a fellow drifter and learned how to survive outside of the limits of society. Backstory: What brings you to Silverpoint? doing odd jobs marvin took up with a ship as a ship hand and did repairs for the vassal in exchange for passage. It was simple work and they didn't ask many questions. silverpoint with its array of merchants seemed like a decent place to gather resources for his most recent experiments. The simple wraps he draped himself in could tighten into a fine leather or harden into lamellar and be as hard as reinforced steal. Were you born here? no, I was born on a simple island that was over run by viscous marine life. being the last one of your kind was difficult but it comes with some advantages. Did you settle here after a long time on the road, or are you just passing through on your adventures? oh, just passing through. A life in one place is to boring as there is so much to learn. RP Sample: Build off the plot summary above. What were you doing the night before this chaos? I was learning the culture buying various drinks and trying new foods and discussing alloys with the smith and smithing techniques. How do you react as the turmoil unfolds? Continuing his conversation with the smith. Marvin is about to discuss his new invention when the ground erupts near his feet. Well, I believe it's time to go. Perhaps we can discuss this further when everything calms down. marvin throws a ball as he fades and reappears at the lobbed ball then begins to run dodging through the crowds. Wow that was strange not the oddest thing but certainly worth telling someone about. He begins to head for the ship he arrived on and goes to find the captain you have no idea what i just saw. Perhaps we should go before it becomes an issue, yeah?

[Onward]

App Name: Z'tohlex (or Lex if you can't pronounce it) Race: Plasmoid Class: Moon Druid Background: Outlander (Outcast) Traits: I’m always picking things up, absently fiddling with them, and sometimes accidentally eating them I feel far more comfortable around animals and other outlanders than people. Ideals: Change. Life is like the seasons, in constant change, and we must change with it. Bond:My father and mother are the two most important things in my life, even when they are far from me. Flaw:I am too enamored of ale, wine, and other intoxicants Appearance: Lex looks to be at least 5'4" tall and has a lean build. She looks like that of a sea elf with sea green skin, hair and pointy ears. Though, it seems she has a skin condition, as greenish scales have started forming as patches on her body, including her face. However, this isn't what Lex actually looks like, this in fact a sculpted form of her mother mixed with some semblance of her father, which she usually takes to remembering them by. Her real form is that of an amorphous, greenish blob with no features to speak of. Description: A drifter, Lex is no one in this world. She's a stranger with no memory of a home to speak of, yet, during her time in this world she briefly found a family. She doesn't know where they are now, but she tries to be like them. To be kind, ruthless, brave, efficient, and most of all, be trusting to nature. No matter where she is, she feels at ease to know she can never be alone. Backstory: Lex doesn't remember much of her past, she doesn't even know how long she has existed. All that she knew was that she's been wandering ever since. Always trailing past the Realms of Toril, never once interacting with its denizens, just observing. That was until she was captured by sahuagin, to be used as a pet or a trap possibly. Yet, she was saved by an unlikely duo, a sea elf and a lizardfolk. These were outcasts of their respective tribes that joined together out of necessity. Despite their differences, they form a bond through their shared love of nature, and Lex was put under their care. She was mostly taken in due to her particular differences to other slimes, particularly when she started shapeshifting to living things in order to escape. They eventually became a family together, if only for a brief while. It was the first time Lex has ever spoken to a living being, the first time she ever took their shape as her own. During her time with them, she began to learn from them. Even improving on her shapeshifting abilities, to eventually perfecting it to the real thing, it even looked real and maybe even stronger. However, good things must come to an end. There was an attack, her parental figures angered the sahuagin priestesses for the last time and they wanted vengeance for their hungry God. She doesn't know what happened after that, all that she knew was that she ran, they helped her escape but she has felt ashamed for running away from them ever since. She came to Silverpoint for no reason in particular, she came here because she's lost her way. She doesn't know where to go now, yet she feels nature itself calling for her here. Maybe that's why she decided to come here. RP Sample: It was luck, Lex believes that was involved when she got here. She stares at the scene of natural, or maybe it was unnatural, destruction. She remembers that when she entered these town, the locals looked at her, somewhat surprise at her appearance. Yet they we're welcoming, it was unnerving to her, she was never good with people. The next thing she knew, she was at a tavern and having a drink with a bunch of strangers. She did not remember what happened, all that she knew was these thing called ale was the greatest thing she ever experienced in all things. She sort of blacked out. Next thing she knows it, she woke up in a bedroom with one of the local girls who was passed out and looked very much like she got drowned by a barrel of ale and it got sticky quick. Whatever that ale thing did to her, was something, hopefully it wasn't something bad. Like sudden vines sprouting around buildings bad, thankfully such powers were beyond her repertoire,"Though, could this be what I sense. I wonder…. what does this mean, I wonder." she told herself as she stared out the inn's building and witness a vine smashing a blacksmith's place of business. Lex turned toward the unconscious person on her bed, she feels like she should apologise before leaving, so she slimified her hands and drew on the walls "SORY FOR MES", she wrote. She nodded to herself at her handiwork, though her writing level was only at the learning phase, she thought she did good. Now, for this situation, Lex briefly transforms to a slime-like humanoid with a Faceless feature, to then morphing to the shape of a tentacled creature. Finally transforming herself into a giant octopus, Lex hopes she can grab as many people as she can from danger. And so the sudden appearance of a giant octopus was sent out to rampage upon the streets.

[Retry]

I've changed my placeholder into a proper app.
Since TCoE was allowed I went Artificer, if you don't want to allow that please let me know and I can make a new character

[kymrel]

My application is now complete! So now we wait

[Touketsu]

Originally Posted by hafrogman

Oooh, a Touketsu game! I missed my chance before, but now I am ready! I have an idea for an elderly gentleman thief named John Alias... okay, not really. But oddly enough, same class.

I’ll be honest, there are very few games I couldn’t outright see John fitting well into. Maybe one where the quest involves celibacy…

… but Hannah seems a fine replacement all the same!

Originally Posted by Retry

I've changed my placeholder into a proper app.
Since TCoE was allowed I went Artificer, if you don't want to allow that please let me know and I can make a new character

Artificer is totally fine! I would have made a special exception for Eberron just to let them in, but as you pointed out, TCoE was kind enough to codify them in a major, more centralized source, so I was saved the trouble.