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  #46  
Old 08-04-2019, 05:19 PM
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Trying my hand at a Warlock with the patron of the Raven Queen again. We'll see. This will be the forth try. First one I didn't make the cut, next two I made the cut, but the games died within a week or two after start.
See a lot of familiar players here. Hey to all you people I RP with elsewhere who are too numerous to mention!
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Old 08-04-2019, 06:06 PM
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Thanks for the info on elves, that was very helpful indeed!

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GM: Scales of War 5e & Yeohven: Fall from Grace
Taking care of young daughter + between jobs + dissertating spouse = limited time. Thanks for patience! Working on priority order of things!
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Old 08-04-2019, 06:14 PM
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Red Sierra is now complete.
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Old 08-04-2019, 06:57 PM
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Name: Xin
Race: Half-Elf
Class: Monk (Way of the Shadow)
Gender: Male
Age: 26
Alignment: CN

Appearance: Unconscious, under the table. That's usually the first impression he makes. Wearing cheap and worn simple clothes (often a mere pair of dark trousers and maybe a pair of boots on a better day), lately proudly carrying a battered short sword on his belt. His Unlike the picture to the rightdistinctively pointy ears give away his elven heritage at first sight. He's somewhat more muscular than one would imagine a half-elf but he's not very high. A couple of subtle black tattoos adorn his tan skin here and there, and he keeps his dense brown hair shaven except for the top of his head. His cold blue eyes don't make him seem any more dependable.

Personality: Rough on the surface, surprisingly deep below - that is when one takes the trouble to pick the meaning from his drunken rumblings. Despite all the adversities of his life he's not fundamentally aggressive, though he will (try to) defend himself when needed. Also, he's eager to finally prove himself as a warrior.

Background: Urchin
Personality Trait: "I eat like a pig and have bad manners."
Ideal: "We have to take care of each other because no one else is going to do it."
Bond: "I owe a debt I can never repay to the person who took pity on me."
Flaw: "It's not stealing if I need it more than someone else."

Character History: All that Xin remembers about his father is a blurry figure whose face he can no longer recall. Piss smelling shady places, his father's raspy voice "stay here kid, and be quiet", and the taste of raspberry syrup. That's all he has from his childhood. One day he waited all afternoon at that rundown inn, sitting at the table by the corner, fiddling with the empty glass of raspberry syrup. Then he waited all night at the doorstep but his father never came back. They put him in an orphanage but the other kids were cruel to him, picking on him because of his pointy ears. He ran off as soon as he had the chance.

Xin was trying to go on living on the streets, getting into troubles and bad company, until he was recruited by master Awer. The mysterious man was constantly looking for talented youths lost in the world heading down on a path of destruction. As for wealth he was but a beggar, but he possessed such spiritual riches he was able to give these hopeless kids purpose and determination. He led not by terror but by example. The dojo became Xin's home and the fellow disciples his family. The master taught them how to rely on nothing but what no one can take away from them: their mind and their body.

The young half-elf excelled at these lessons, demonstrating such dexterity and understanding he never dreamed to have within. Some of the students struggled to calm their minds others had hardships trying to mimic the complex motions of bends, kicks, punches. Xin aligned himself with the flow of Ki naturally, shifting his mind into meditation with the same inborn ease he shifted his body into the billowing motions.

Soon he was instructing the fresh recruits, stepping onto the path of becoming a master himself. But the peaceful years of living in the dojo abruptly ended. Master Awer was arrested and imprisoned. Murder, espionage, theft were among the charges. Turns out the master was a Braretian agent trying to create a cell of well-trained assassins deep in the body of Vathosia.
"Show me the vase!" - instructed the master yet again. Xin crushed the earthenware out of frustration. The master smiled.
This memory repeated itself in Xin's mind the following days over and over again. "Well, now you showed me my life." - he thought with a bitter smile, asking for another wine.

The group of students initially tried to hold together. But the dojo was based on a lie, no wonder it fell apart quickly. Some of the disciples got into trouble and the city guards began to search for Awer's remaining initiates realizing that those kids already meant danger despite being young and unequipped. Xin's adopted family fell apart, everyone heading in different directions to make tracking them harder. Xin ended up in Tyran, Herland. He sustains himself signing for casual errands and drinking away his earnings.

In Character Writing Sample:
- "Hey, Gaigon, wait! Gaigon!"
The man looked back over his shoulder but didn't stop. He even began to limp faster trying to get away, though both knew the young half-elf would catch up easy.
- "Hey pal." - Xin tapped Gaigon's battered dark cloak - "Is it true what they talk?"
The other just shrugged and turned away with a grunt. An ooze of cheap ale hit Xin's nose, but he wasn't sure whether it came from the agent or himself. Or both.
- "No, wait. I want to sign up!"
Gaigon stopped, he directed his old blear eyes at the half-elf. - "Ts not fer you, kid. S some serious shet, you'd only get yerself killed."
Xin rolled his eyes. - "Ah come on! Remember how I saved your sorry ass back at the inn last time."
The man just waved it off and was ready to go.
- "Look!" - Xin made a few fancy punches and kicks into the air - "I ain't no greenhorn kid. I have the technique!" - he attempted a spinning kick but his foot slipped on the dusty stone (or was it too much beer tonight) and he nearly landed headfirst into the mud. Ha managed to make a half-cartwheel out of it though it looked less then impressive. He didn't give up.
- "Check this!" - he produced a battered short sword from a scabbard on his belt and made a flourish with the blade. - "I'm armed! See, I'm a warrior. You gotta let me in. I can't be a dock loader forever! Please!"
Gaigon sighed. Or coughed. It was hard to tell. - "Be at the corner of Blackfin and Kipper three hours aft'r dawn. Do me a favor 'n' be sob'r, a'ight?" - he proceeded to limp away - "N buy yersef a coat.. or a shirt.... I av a reputation around 'ere!" - he continued to mumble long after he parted the kid.
Xin smiled. "Even the longest journey begins with a single step." - he thought. Suddenly he furrowed his brows. - "Hey, Blackfin and what? Smallstep? Kipper? Bradkitch?" - he shouted but Gaigon was already gone in whichever alley. Xin shrugged. He'd find it if his fate was to find it. He had a good feeling about this.

Last edited by Daendil; 08-08-2019 at 08:09 PM. Reason: Updated the character image (and related minor details)
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  #50  
Old 08-04-2019, 09:32 PM
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I answered fromthe1980s in PM

@Montage - Go for it. (answer to secret text).

I'll update the table in the next hour or so. In the meantime I wanted to clear up the deadline information.

Applications will be reviewed and feedback given on August 8th. No further applications will be accepted after the 8th at 12am PT. Characters can be reworked after feedback. Please make sure to post after you have made changes so I can read your character again.

Final character selection will be after August 10th
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  #51  
Old 08-06-2019, 05:48 AM
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Kayne Cyire App
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Kayne Cyire
Name: Kayne Cyire (Sigh-Err)
Race: Half-elf
Class: Hexblade (1) / Vengeance Paladin (4)
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Alignment: Good
Appearance: Long black hair, warm brown eyes, fair skin, 6’1”, about 210 lbs, fairly lean but well muscled, a dancer or swimmer’s physique.
Personality: Hopeful, but brooding on certain topics. Feels a lot of weight on his shoulders.
Background: Knight of the Order of the Dusk
Personality Trait: I’m always polite and respectful. I face problems head-on. A simple, direct solution is the best path to success.
Ideal: Greater Good. Our lot is to lay down our lives in defense of others. (Good)
Bond: Someone saved my life on the battlefield. To this day, I will never leave a friend behind.
Flaw: I’d rather eat my armor than admit when I’m wrong.
Character History:

 



 


 



In Character Writing Sample:


8 years prior…



"He could have killed her himself. These… talents he exhibits don’t match any records of divine power we’ve witnessed. I would almost suggest reaching out to the Order of the Dawn to see what their texts may speak of, but that would risk exposing the situation."

"So you propose what? This boy be executed for heresy when he has said little or exhibited even less of an infernal inclination?"

Kayne maintained his seat in the cavernous room. He had arrived in Gourgiphi just two days prior. Approaching the Order of the Dusk, he spoke to a paige, showing Nadia’s badge, and was then quickly escorted to see a ranking member of the Order. Once he had explained everything that transpired, he was immediately brought before another, higher ranking member of the Order. He retold his tale, at which point he was then taken into “protective custody”, which essentially meant placed within a fortified cell, and was left for a day to stew. Finally he was brought before this group of individuals, retelling his same story, all the while trying not to focus on the ache of hunger he felt in the pit of his stomach.

He’d felt hunger before, he could deal with it. What he was finding more difficult to deal with was the uncertainty about his future. He thought he was going to become a Paladin. He thought he was going to escape his life of uncertainty. He thought so many things before Nadia had been killed. Now all he thought of, when he wasn’t focused, was the subtle whispers of his name he heard within his mind.

"Kaaaaaayyyne…"

Kayne was somewhat convinced he was turning into those madmen that would let themselves fall on their own steel swords.

"He does seem like the type Nadia would have found…"

"You mean a half-elf? He’s probably a spy that came across Nadia and killed her to serve as an elaborate ploy in gaining our trust."

"Try to not let paranoia cloud your judgement. No one would describe Nadia as naive. You’ve spent too long touching the darkness I think…"

The last voice grew closer, as a figure stepped from the shadows in the direction of the chorus of voices. Kayne watched as a middle-aged man, perhaps slightly older than Nadia approached his bound form, towering above the seated youth."Kayne… I have questions for you. Geas is cast on KayneObey" With a word, Kayne could feel a force invade his mind, causing him quite a bit of discomfort, enough that he was wiggling away from the figure, trying to escape his bonds, but to no avail.

"You will speak honestly, or suffer greatly, potentially even dying. Do you understand?"

It was all Kayne could do to nod, the pain fleeing his mind slowly as he felt more control over his body.

"My name is Archibald. I was responsible for bringing Nadia into the Order. I ask that you tell us what happened again, in as much detail as you can provide, and in all the honesty you can muster. The death of a child will not be the first, nor the last dark deed I do to preserve our world. So begin with how you met Nadia?"



Present Day


Kayne adjusted his long hair to rest overtop of his ears, the movement so habitual and practiced it was barely noticed, "So then I said to the Ulagardian, “Isn’t that what your brother did to you last night?”" The small group close to the bar erupted in laughter, slamming fists on the bar counter and clapping friends on their backs as Kayne was rounding out his story.

"Suffice to say, the little dwarf bastard threw a mean right hook which was promptly followed-up by an even meaner left kick to the nether regions, and began what would famously come to be known far and wide as the Tin Cup Bar Brawl." There were some more cheers as Kayne took a sip from his ale and chuckled at the workers and mercenaries who gathered around him at The Laughing Fox to hear his tale of a relatively short trip to Sirus and back. He left out the bit about finding himself in a gutter the following morning. What hero fell ill from too much drink from the tales of old? It certainly didn’t happen again, and Kayne was fairly certain the concussion he suffered from the fight was the cause of such malady. Oh, how hard times fell on Kayne and made him desperate for whatever job would bring him enough coin that he could continue his research on Nightwalkers...

The tavern door swung open and heavy footfalls could be heard as someone in heavy armor walked towards the bar. Gradually, as the person approached, the rest of the bar grew more and more silent. Suddenly, towering over Kayne, a huge human man looked down with a feral grin as his hands clenched at his side, considering the lithe figure.

"Kayne Cyire, I heard you've been making a lot of noise, looking for Tannon the Mountain? Well he's found you at last... Seems as though you pissed off someone powerful in Sirus. They've offered me a pretty penny to make sure you don't continue your escapades. They weren't too pleased about you not living up to your price... I don’t much care, but we can do this the easy way… or the hard way." Tannon the Mountain swings a wicked looking axe around to grasp it in both his hands, eyes narrowing down on the paladin before him.

Kayne finished his ale, and slowly turns to look at the thug, a smile spread across his face. "Well Tannon the Hill, I’m sorry that you've been inconvenienced by our friends up North. But I have been looking for you. Apparently you took the earnings from a bereft mother to search for her son's murderer and didn't bother to return, good news or bad. That's rude I think. I can't abide by rudeness... perhaps you have the gold she paid you on yourself? You can hand that over and my fee, and we call it a day?"

Tannon sears at Kayne, tilting his head to better get a look at Kayne's pointed ears under his hair. Chuckling, he clenches his hands on the axe, "Sounds like it’s the hard way then…" Kayne continues to smile up at the man, "Isn’t that what your brother did to you last night?" The confused look on Tannon's face lasts but a moment before Kayne draws his longsword and slices at the man’s knee, spinning around behind the lumbering behemoth.

Yelling out in frustration, the Tannon swings his axe around to try and behead his opponent, but Kayne leans backwards to just escape a close shave with the headman’s axe, and spins the longsword around to plunge down into the man’s foot. With a scream of pain, Kayne pulls his longsword out from the floorboard and uses the pummel to slam into the bounty hunter’s eyes, causing the man to drop his axe and clutch at his face. With a well-timed kick, the paladin’s foot finds purchase between the thug’s legs and causes the big-man to crumple down on the ground.

A few moments pass, gasps of breath coming from the fallen hunter as Kayne sheaths his longsword and taps the fallen opponent on the shoulder, pushing him gently to lean against the bar counter on the ground. He begins to whistle to himself and heads for the exit casually, singing a catchy song Archibald taught him early in his training:

"Axes flash, broadsword swing,
Shining armour’s piercing ring
Horses run with a polished shield,
Fight Those Bastards til They Yield
Midnight Mare and blood red roan,
Fight to Keep this Land Your Own
Sound the horn and call the cry,
How Many of Them Can We Make Die!
"


The dark-paladin continues to hum and whistle the tune as he passes out of the tavern, the tavern customers look at the crumpled body of the bounty hunter, blood spreading out from his wounds. Still alive, but in no position to give chase to the Paladin of the Order of the Dusk, Kayne Cyire.

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PCs: Dramoth "Nova" / Rhokax Soulreader / Kayne Cyire / Torm / Donovan Whistler
GM: Scales of War 5e & Yeohven: Fall from Grace
Taking care of young daughter + between jobs + dissertating spouse = limited time. Thanks for patience! Working on priority order of things!

Last edited by MontageManiac; 08-09-2019 at 01:55 AM.
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  #52  
Old 08-06-2019, 06:40 PM
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Xin is ready! Please tell me if you need anything else (or if I left something out).
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Old 08-06-2019, 07:00 PM
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I've updated the RP sample slightly, but I believe Kayne is good to go as well. Please let me know if you have any concerns or questions!
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GM: Scales of War 5e & Yeohven: Fall from Grace
Taking care of young daughter + between jobs + dissertating spouse = limited time. Thanks for patience! Working on priority order of things!
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Old 08-06-2019, 11:06 PM
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The table is all up to date. Just a day and a few hours until the application deadline and I start working on reviews.
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Old 08-07-2019, 12:28 PM
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Oran
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Name: Oran Roquen
Race: Wood Elf
Class: Fighter
Gender: Male
Age: 106
Alignment: Neutral Good
Appearance: A skilled observer can tell much about a man by the cut of his jib. Oran's shoulders are broad and muscled as is rarely seen in one so young - apart from those individuals who have trained their body up to be able to draw successively stronger longbows. Sure enough, he's carrying a massive longbow, a complex composite of lemonwood, purpleheart and hickory. His hands have callouses on the thumb and the corner of the palm consistent with long hours swinging a sword - and lo and behold, he's carrying two of them, short curved things designed mainly for slashing, one newer than the other but both featuring the same design motifs on their sheaths. His face and arms display the telltale faint lines of injuries healed by magic before they could properly scar. These are not the scars of the common soldier, left lying on on a cot for weeks to either recover from his wounds or rot and die. These scars bespeak wealth, for they're most often seen on the bodies of wealthy adventurers, nobles, generals or other individuals with ready or privileged access to healers. He wears no beard and while his hair is unadorned, it's also clean and straight. There is no dirt under his fingernails, and if there is any dirt on his equipment it doesn't stay there long. He smells like dirt and sweat, but the diligent sniffer can also detect the fainter scents of soap and shaving cream about his person.

His armor is a darker brown, stamped with silvery lines that form delicate curved patterns. The light brown cloak is soft with age, trimmed with silver thread, and contains recent patches sewn into the underside of the hood and shoulders. All of these tell one story about a location and culture - his boots tell another. They're new and well made, but their common black finish stands at odds with the dull browns of his other raiment.
Personality: If Oran has a problem with you, you don't have to worry about being the last to know. It's his belief that subtlety is best employed when one travels through tall undergrowth, and should be left out of important conversations altogether. Coming from a different culture he has weird ideas about what is honorable and what is not, and he takes his honor very seriously. All this combined with his impulse to take charge of the situation can frustrate those around him. On the other hand, you can scarcely ask for a better ally. Oran won't leave you when the fight goes sour. He doesn't grumble when the rain soaks through the tent. And he will absolutely perforate that orc who claimed he was going to drink from your skull.
Background: Outlander
Personality Trait: I have a strong code of honor and sense of propriety that others don't comprehend.
Ideal: Honor. Only the honorable can serve the tribe.
Bond: My tribe is the most important thing in my life, even when I am far from them.
Flaw: I am secretly convinced of the superiority of my own culture over that of this foreign land.
 

 

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Last edited by anamiac; 08-08-2019 at 01:39 AM.
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Old 08-07-2019, 06:28 PM
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[fieldset=Application]
Name: Brother Z’Krasa

Application
Name: Brother Z’Krasa

Race: Human (Varient)

Class: Moon Druid

Gender: Male

Age: 29

Alignment: Lawful Good

Appearance: Z’krasa is a man of middling height, garbed in loose wraps and leather armor. He has pale blue eyes and a beardless, unremarkable face. His dark olive skin suggests heritage from warm climates. He keeps his head shaven, and covered with a hood. Around his neck he wears an ivory medallion, engraved with strange runes. Slung across his back one can usually find a large gourd container, filled with ale.

Personality: Brother Z’Krasa is a kind soul, who tends to believe the best of people.
After all, everyone you meet may be a new friend. His calm demeanor can often stop fights before they start. Because of this, people often come to him to help resolve minor disputes. He has no sense of humor to speak of, and will stare blankly at jokes. When tasked with a job, he is relentless in his duties.

Background: Far Traveller

Personality Trait: - I can find common ground between the fiercest enemies, empathizing with them and always working toward peace.

- I begin or end my day with small traditional rituals that are unfamiliar to those around me

Ideal: Open. I have much to learn from the kindly folk I meet along the way.

Bond: So long as I have this token from my homeland, I can face any adversity in this strange land

Flaw: I am secretly convinced of the superiority of my own culture over that of this foreign land.

Character History:
Brother Z’Krasa, as he styles himself, prefers to keep his history to himself. He has lived in Tyran for the past several years. He works both selling ale and is active as a freelance adventurer. He is tight-lipped about his homeland. Ask where it is, and you’ll get little but a sad smile. Ask why he left, and all you will get is stoney silence. But if one were to become close friends with him, they would get some of his story.

He was born within a small clan of desert dwellers, in the far off land of Sirus. The land was hard, and the people harder. Death waited everywhere. His earliest memories are of thirst and hunger. Other clans competed for dominance. Orcs attacked the exterior walls with alarming regularity. Many of the children he grew up with never saw adulthood. Whether though luck or some inner strength, Z’Krasa not only survived, but thrived. He brought much honor to his clan.

When he was fifteen, he was chosen to join The Bastions of the Moon Spirit. The Bastions are the religious authority amongst the clans. They ensure the spirits will be done, and arbitrate clan disputes. To be chosen to join them is the highest honor. Z’Krasa left his clan and moved to their hallowed halls. Here, he learned the mysteries of the night. His mind was honed to a knife edge.There were rumors that he would be soon be trained in the higher orders. His future seemed fixed.

Sadly, that’s where his narrative will end. More prodding will uncover only a smattering of facts. Something happened. He was accused of some terrible crime, and the trial went against him. The punishment - exile. Permeant exile. And so he left the desert, the only home he had ever known. He wandered for some time before settling in Tyran. It took some time, but he’s built a life there. He’s made many friends and had many adventures since. Yet in his heart he still yearns for the home he will never see again.

In Character Writing Sample: Dawn broke over the land. It surprised Z’Krasa. He had meant to be awake long ago. Rising stiffly from his rocky bead, he stretched as he surveyed the area. He had slept in a shallow cave last night, the first shelter he could find. It had been months since he left home, but everything was still strange. Too many trees, he thought How can one live where the trees outnumber the people?

A question he must learn the answer to. Soon. But now, it was time for morning guidance. He gathered some dirt into his hands. A poor substitute for sand. Yet would could he do? He had not seen sand in a long, long time. Bowing his head, he lifted his right hand skyward. He began an odd sort of swaying dance as he chanted, facing a new direction with every sentence. First north, then east, south, and west -

"Great lady of the sky, may your fullness light my path, lest I fall through shifting sands"
"Our waning protector, grant me the strength to endure the coming storm"
"Our mother of night, may your shadow shelter me from the terrors of the dark"
"O, glorious patron, may your wisdom grow in me, as your light waxes in the sky"

As he finished, he released the dirt to the air. The wind quickly blew it away. A good sign. It had come time to depart. Gathering his meager belongings, he soon found the road again. He still had some food from the day before, and he broke his fast as he traveled. If the spirits were kind, he would reach his destination this day. He had heard much of Tyran. It may prove a good place to settle. If not…the world was large. There would some other land to make a living in.
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Last edited by TheOneTrueClone; 08-08-2019 at 11:51 PM.
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Old 08-07-2019, 06:46 PM
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Two last minute applicants. Welcome to the long list lol. I will add to the table in a few minutes.

About 8.5hrs until the official deadline, but I am probably going to start on the reading and taking notes some time tonight (5+hrs from now). I plan to have every app read and feedback posted by 12pm PT tomorrow. Sometimes plans don't work, so it still might not be until the end of the day, but it will be done.

Thanks again to everyone who applied. It was a much larger turn out than I expected.
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Old 08-07-2019, 11:04 PM
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The first six reviews. I am working in the order on the table. I will make a new post for each batch I finish.





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  #59  
Old 08-08-2019, 12:38 AM
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Old 08-08-2019, 01:21 AM
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I changed the ex boyfriend to a human. That helps Nylaathria's background story a lot. She only has to stay low profile way over here in Herland and the surrounding territory for as long as a human his current age might live. Old age will come fairly fast for him (from her elf perspective) and then she can go wherever she wants again without always looking over her shoulder. Let's say that's 30-40 more years.

Last edited by cappucina; 08-08-2019 at 01:22 AM.
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