[D&D-5e] Icewind Dale: Cold Souls

[EMIW]

Reserving a post to talk about my Goliath ranger.

[DiceGoblin]

Application Name: Kylie Thatcher Race: Wood Half-Elf Class: Warlock (Genie) Appearance: Kylie is a rather frumpy looking young lady. She's too tall and too lanky to be pretty, at least that's what the older folks of her village say. Standing at 5' 10" with a skinny build and long, gangly, limbs. Her shoulder length, ginger, hair is always a mess and you can always find a few pieces of straw sticking out of it. She has tanned skin, lots of freckles, and light green eyes. Her eyebrows are thick, her hands are rough, calloused, and scarred. She's dressed in what appears to be her 'Sunday best' a cream colored blouse and a long brown skirt. She's also sporting a heavy pair of work boots and gloves, as well as an ill fitting leather chest plate that looks like it was made for a man, not a woman. She also has a blue and brown plaid scarf and a heavy winter cloak that has been patched in several places. For jewelry she wears a very simple set of ear cuffs. The prettiest thing she owns is a delicate and ornate gold ring with an emerald, the emerald hides a tiny compartment, like the rings nobles wear when they want to poison their husbands. A gift from the god that protects her village. Character Concept: Mechanically I want to play Kylie as crowd control. Give her some good AOE and protection spells. Use her to set up other players for the big damage. The Genie patron has access to some really cool spells and I want to use them as much as possible. Narratively, Kylie is a simple farmgirl with little education. She's was expected to marry a nice young man, pump out a bunch babies to use as child labor and keep the farm going. Until her parents stupidly gave her, their firstborn, to the village 'god'. A deity who was supposedly responsible for good harvest. I would love to do a bit of a coming of age story with her, where she starts off as this awkward simple girl and grows into an absolute powerhouse. Backstory: The Thatcher family has been running a farm for as long as anybody can remember. As the main source of food for several local villages they have a lot of work cut out for them. With most members of the family living on the grounds in a scattering of small houses as their families run a different part. Some take care of livestock, others crops, some do the finances or buying and selling. That is the life of the Thatcher family. The eldest child of each generation lives in the main house with their family, the overseers of the entire operation. All was well, until the crops started failing. The young owner of the farm, Kylie's father, and his pregnant wife were desperate to solve things before they brought a baby into the world. Out of desperation they sought out the deity that watched over the village and begged them for help. The deity agreed, but in return, they wanted their firstborn. Kylie's parents stupidly agreed. The crops got better and one month later Kylie was born to the world. The only member of their family with green eyes, her parents assumed rightly that it had to do with the village god. Her parents tried to give the newborn to the deity who laughed. They clarified that her parents could still raise her however they wanted, but that one day the deity would need her help and that she would have to go. Over the years Kylie was raised as if nothing had happened. Crops did well, animals were healthy. Over the years each of her five siblings were born. Four boys, including a set of twins, and one more girl. Kylie assumed her life was going to be like all the Thatchers before her. Help on the farm, raise her siblings, meet a nice boy, get married, raise her own children. Retire, die. The only problem with that was that she didn't seem pretty or dainty enough for the village boys to be interested in. Even the allure of the biggest source of food for miles wasn't enough. On her sixteenth birthday, her coming of age birthday, her parents introduced her to the deity they had promised her to. Her entire life was derailed as she learned of what her family had done. How their second child, the oldest boy, would be the one to head the farm and not her. On one hand, she was disappointed. On the other she was absolutely relieved that she didn't need to flash what little cleavage she had and hope that it was enough that she could find someone who wasn't insecure about the fact that she could lift more than they could. The deity gifted her a ring and told her to wear it always. Unbeknownst to her parents, the deity also gifted her with magic. She started sneaking away at night to train with the deity and learn how her magic worked. Three years later, what Kylie had been waiting for finally happened. The deity called upon her. She was to go to the Icewind Dale and find the deity's brother who had gone missing several years ago. According to the deity, a missing elemental was a very bad sign. The deity was not allowed to go into another elemental's territory, so it must be her. Thus, she left home and set off into the world for the first time.

[Amarga]

Martim Frosthorn Name: Martim Frosthorn Race: Human Class: Paladin (Oath of Ancients eventually) Appearance: Martim Frosthorn is a tall, sandy-haired youth who has spent his short life wandering and training to protect his corner of the world. He typically spends most of his time wearing plain armor with a warm cloak overtop to keep off the cold. His cloak is either a dull brown to help him blend in during warmer months, or white when winter comes. Martim isn’t usually the first to speak, and rarely takes off his horned helmet. He has a habit of staring off into the distance, admiring the landscape around him. This can sometimes make it difficult to tell if you’re really getting through to him, as he doesn’t give a lot of feedback. However there are certain scenarios where the young man will snap into action, moving swiftly to protect the innocent from the dangers that stalk the land. If one catches Martim at his most distant, they can hear the young man quietly humming snippets of old songs to himself. These are mostly the same traveling songs his parents used to sing, though some are old dwarven ballads he learned from Dwain. Character Concept: A calm young paladin with an easy smile, an air of sorrow, and a powerful desire to protect people. Martim will be built as a flexible defender who keeps his party-members safe. Martim's potentially a bit awkward with his distant attitude, but naturally earnest and serious when it comes to it. Not that he's too stoic, but he seems more like he's going through the motions than properly engaging in situations. I expect to start cracking him more out of his shell and grow him into the image of a shining paladin depending on how his adventuring goes. Backstory: Martim’s parents were a pair of traders who came from Caer-Dineval. With the paved road providing easy trade opportunities they rarely stayed at the old family house in Caer Dineval proper. Instead, Martim and his parents spent their life on the road, traveling by wagon across the long roads to ten towns and back on a yearly basis. During these times, his mother and father built a relationship with the dwarves of the valley, trading food and necessary supplies for their fine crafts. Growing up, Martim deeply admired those brave few who wandered the wild and worked tirelessly to keep monsters and raiders away from the main roads, gaining a childish love of valor and heroic tales. Unfortunately for Martim, one winter was particularly bad, almost as bad as the current one. In those terrible conditions, the young family were nonetheless desperate to make at least one more trade to the dwarves to secure enough money to bunker down for a long winter. This run was their last, and they fell prey to a yeti ambush in the midst of a blizzard. Martim was saved only by a group of dwarves who were trying to meet his family halfway to prevent their foolhardy journey. The young boy was the only survivor. The dwarves cared for Martim over the winter, and he made a few friends among them who enjoyed his youthful curiosity about their craft. When the long winter broke, he was returned to the small village of Dineval, where the puffed up Crannonc Siever took him in as his own (subsequently gaining some claim to Martim’s family’s home). In the years that followed Martim spent his youth overcoming his grief while wandering the countryside, his reckless spirit driving him to wander the wilder places of Iceland Dale more and more. Eventually Crannoc paid a dwarf to train Martim in combat, and Martim learned the way of the axe from the hands of a veteran fighter, Dwain. When Dwain’s contract was up he deemed Martim a decent enough fighter, and Martim left with Crannoc’s blessing to make his living protecting the roads of Icewind Dale.

[EMIW]

I've gone back and forth on applying with a Ranger, as a Ranger is already guaranteed and there's at least one other Ranger applicant, but I really like the character so here I go.

Name: Aumak
Race: Goliath
Class: Ranger (heading for Gloomstalker)

Character Concept: At first glance Aumak is quite intimidating - the height, the build, the dark skin markings. But a look into his eyes reveals a man who is deeply troubled, a drive to delve into the darkness and kill monsters that stems not from honour or goodness, or even bloodlust, but from fear - if he goes deep enough, and destroys enough evil, perhaps he will finally stop being afraid of what lurks down there, and what he is sure is waiting to claim him one day. Because of this he is more often pitied than feared. He can sometimes be heard to talk to things or people that aren't there, echoes of the memories that haunt him - he's found through hard experience that ignoring them only makes them louder, so he engages with them, worried that if he doesn't it will build up and break through all defenses. He also has a small collection of books of poetry - something in it calms the whispering and the fear, at least for a while.

Backstory: Aumak 'Deepdiver' Matukalamune is a Goliath of the Spine of the World. While still a child, though on the brink of adulthood, he set off on a race against his friends, through the jagged valleys and chasms of the Spine. Though fast he was overconfident and missed his footing. He slipped and fell, down down down, until he found himself in the tunnels far beneath the mountains. He wandered for weeks, living off the condensation on the walls and the mushrooms that grew in the damp places. In the darkness he saw, or half-saw, terrible things - creatures in the shadows, of the shadows, half-formed nightmares that whispered to him. Were they real, or was it the lack of food and water, or the strange mushrooms? Or his mind taking the darkness and silence, and making them into something they weren't?

When he woke he was in a hut. He had been found by a hunting party - he had emerged from a crevice in the rock, begging with unseen figures to be left alone, his eyes clouded over, not seeing that he had found the outside world.

He still hears the whispers, echoes of whatever he encountered beneath the mountains. He is determined to track them down, and has spent so long, too long, delving back into the Underdark, seeking out the evil that lurks in the depths of the earth. Somewhere out there he has a daughter and a mate, the result of a brief attempt to settle down, but the whispers and the dark eventually pulled him back underground. Right now he is only in Ten Towns to restock, make new plans, and perhaps find some new poetry.

[Snicker]

Originally Posted by Lazer

Since we know that Snicker is pre-approved, would you mind letting us know what character they will be playing so that we can avoid duplicating roles?

Never mind, I found the details in one of your links. Sorry, I should have looked harder. Snicker intends to play a Ranger who is focused more on animal companions rather than magic.

That ranger in particular was designed to meet specific requirements in a 3.5 game. I may recycle the concept for this game, or may not! Flying Fox and I agreed it would be most fair if we look at the crop of applications and I'll create a character that works best with the group.

So, everyone, don't sweat the party makeup! Submit whatever character you'd like to play!

Originally Posted by Anarchy

I absolutely love this setting, but have never played 5e before. How difficult is it to pick up for a neophyte to 5e, but is familiar with Pathfinder and the D&D versions up to v3.5?

Would this be the SRD that most would recommend? LINK

The idea of playing a Paladin is quite intriguing to me.

Any advice would be greatly appreciated~

My start to 5E was straight from 3.5, DMing a game for a crop of new players - really jumping in with both feet! I think the move from 3.5 to 5E is pretty easy, especially since 5E makes an effort to streamline a lot of 3.5's finicky details. I can help you through the process of creating a character and understanding your abilities if you'd like.

[Ysolde]

Name: Bitterleaf Frostheart
Race: Ghostwise Halfling
Class: Druid

Appearance: Standing at four foot even Bitterleaf is tall for a halfling. She has a lithe dexterous form with long silver hair and light blue eyes. She often wears light colored armor or light colored clothing.

Character Concept: Healer, Cynic, Cold and almost unfeeling. Bitterleaf is like few halfings seen. She's not a homebody, she isn't drawn to the road, she's not a happy capricious sort.

Backstory: Halfings in Icewind Dale live in human towns or they live in a caravan usually with sled dogs. Bitterleaf comes from a caravan, but that caravan is long gone. It was destroyed in a raid long ago with the few survivors fleeing to the various towns and Bitterleaf was lost in the deep snow and ice. She lived on her own in the deepest frost learning everything about the deadly and beautiful arctic cold. She makes coin escorting traders through the harsh terrain but she generally does not deign to name any town home. Her home is out in the deep cold along with her heart and soul.

[GideonT]

Name: Karl Kelly
Race: Firbolg
Class: Cleric, Grave Domain
Alignment: Chaotic Good

Appearance: Karl 7ft tall and around 240lbs. He wears his dirty blonde hair in a high ponytail. His skin is well tanned from many days traveling in the sun. He tries to be friendly but it usually comes out awkward. His mace and crossbow are never out of reach.

Personality Traits: He has spent so much time in the temple that he has little practical experience dealing with people in the outside world.

Ideals: Charity. He always try to help those in need, no matter what the personal cost.

Bonds: He will do anything to protect the temple where he served. (Or other temples of his faith)

Flaws: He judges others harshly, and himself even more severely.

Character Concept: Karl is suffering from a server case of survivor guilt and is in denial about it. This is at the core of what keeps him travelling. One of the reasons he stays on the road (the reason he'll admit to) is to find answers. Why did the tragedy happen? Why was he allowed to live? Is there there someone behind all this. The reason he refuses to ac
knowledge is the fear of losing anyone who he may grow attached too.

Backstory: Karl grew up in a monastery orphanage dedicated to the worship of Nephthys. He was left there as a young child and gas only fleeting memories of his possible family.

At a very young age he showed an aptitude for the healing arts. The priests at the monastery encouraged and trained Karl as a cleric.


Karl would have been perfectly content and stay all of days at the monastery taking care of people who came seeking aid, but fate had other plans. Every few weeks he would travel to nearby forest to collect components and supplies. He saw a dragon fly overhead in the general direction of the monastery. He didn't think anything about it and continued on his task. Sometimes later as he was headed back to the monastery, he noticed smoke and remembered the dragon. He raced back to the monastery, but he was too late. Not that he could have done anything to change the outcome. The whole area was decimated.


For a time Karl mourned. He buried hie dead friends and honored Nephthys with his grief. After an appropriate amount of time, Karl gather what supplies he could and headed out into the world.


He now travels form place to place, attending to the dead, or helping the living. each case as needed. He visits other temple of Nephthys to worship whenever he can. One day he will probably settle down at on of these temples, but some gut instinct believes that the attack on his home was not random, so he searches for answers.

[Alemar]

[Morathor]

Name: Eva Dale
Race: Human
Class: Barbarian

Appearance: A tall, wiry woman in her early fourties. Eva dresses in simple, practical clothes--a white shirt, perpetually wrinkled, snug black trousers, and heavy brown boots that reach almost to her knee--and wears her wavy black hair back in a loose bun. She has also begun to wear a heavy cloak as she has gotten further into the frozen north, but is unused to it and quick to discard it when she feels it is getting in her way. Eva wears no armor, and carries nothing that looks like it was meant to be a weapon--though some of the woodworking tools that hang at her belt can do some damage with a strong arm behind them.

Character Concept: Far from home and in over her head, Eva is looking for closure and knows she doesn't have the skills to investigate the unfamiliar territory of Icewind Dale on her own. She knows she'll need to earn enough coin or favors to enlist others in her search for answers. Eva is not a trained warrior by any means, but she possesses a prodigious strength honed by a lifetime of hard labor, and she's no stranger to a bit of roughhousing--she grew up around sailors, after all.

Mechanically, Eva is a frontliner, with more emphasis on tanking and control than damage dealing. I hope to do a fair amount of grappling, as well as finding opportunities to use the tavern brawler feat to weaponize the largest and most unlikely of objects.

Backstory:

 

Eva grew up in a coastal town, known more as a shipyard than a trade port. At a young age, she was apprenticed to a master shipwright, learning to build and repair sailing vessels--to ensure they could withstand all the horrors the sea might throw at them. Her knowledge of those dangers was left to boil under the surface of her mind for a few years, until family business took her and her parents on a boat for the first time in her life. Those abstract ideas combined with her perpetual seasickness to crystallize into a deep fear and loathing of sailing, the sea, and large bodies of water in general. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, she continued her training as a shipwright, taking deep pride in her work and deeply resenting the need to give these beautiful sailing vessels to people who would actually sail them.

The contradiction of building ships while hating sailing was an endless source of amusement for Eva's guildmates, but it was nothing compared to the entertainment value of watching her fall head over heels for a sailor. To this day, Eva can't make sense of it; she had nothing in common with Thomas Dale, they were incompatible in every way that should have mattered, but the only way that mattered was that she loved him. She loved him too dearly to ask him to give up the sea for her; even knowing he would be gone more than he was around, even knowing that every time he left port might be the last time she saw him, she married a sailor.

The next eight years were the happiest of Eva's life;' not that her life had been incomplete without Thomas, but it was certainly better with him in it. And through those years, their greatest labor of love was the ship they built together--although Eva did the lion's share of the design work, Thomas' more practical knowledge of sailing offered some ideas and innovations she wouldn't have thought of herself, and when it came to the actual construction he was a second pair of strong hands. When the ship was complete, and Thomas was properly registered with a trading company as its captain, he took it out on its maiden voyage.

Eva could not say she was surprised when the ship never came back. She could say she was heartbroken. But the worst part was that no one knew what had happened--whether it had sunk in a storm or shipwrecked on an island or been destroyed by pirates, or any of the thousand other terrible things that could happen to a ship at sea. The trading company Thomas had been working with began to investigate, and assured Eva she would be the first to know if they found anything. And since there was nothing she could contribute, Eva went on with her life and her work, waiting for an answer that never came. Weeks turned into months, then years. Eva had no delusions that Thomas was alive, but she couldn't completely accept that he was dead.

A few months ago, a strange anecdote came to Eva. A colleague had recognized a piece of her handiwork, the figurehead for a ship, being sold as an art object with no ship attached. He had inquired with the merchant as to how it had come into their possession, and learned that it had been recovered by adventurers in a monster's hoard, far inland in Icewind Dale. But, thinking it little more than a curiosity, her colleague had not pried into any more specifics, and could not even recall the name of the merchant selling the piece.

She had no guarantee the story had anything to do with Thomas or his ship. Even if it did, she knew she was not the person to go looking into it. But Eva was suddenly struck with the realization that she had gone more than decade without ever trying to find out what happened to her husband. It was guilt and panic, as much as any hope, that set her on her journey north.

[Noltelix]

Kaz'adim the Sunchaser Name: Kaz’adim the Sunchaser Race: Tabaxi Class: Cleric (Light Domain) Appearance: Kaz’adim is broad-shouldered and athletically built. He has a white coat and a thick mane (typically braided and adorned with metal clasps). He has a fierce look at first glance but those who come to know him soon learn that his fangs are generally bared in a warm smile and seldom in a snarl. He favors “warmer” metals, wielding bronze armaments and adorning himself in copper and gold. A holy symbol hangs from his neck depicting a stylized sun. Character Concept: He is on a pilgrimage of sorts, “chasing the sun” as he would say. He has trekked many miles from the misty “Clouded Forest'' (somewhere far to the southeast) up along the Sword Coast to Icewind Dale, feeling drawn to some larger purpose. Having finally reached the frozen north, he has found clarity. He understands that he is here to bring light and warmth to those who have long suffered the cold and dark. Kaz is quick with a smile and generous with his coin. He is committed to enjoying whatever experience life throws at him - trying new foods, meeting new people, seeing new lands, napping in the sun, etc. He doesn’t know much about organized religion and his brief exposure confirmed that he is ill-suited to the rigid and controlled hierarchy that so often accompanies it. Rather, his fervor and dedication are simply to Not far off from the Oath of Ancients creed from the Paladin subclass.The Light. Mechanically, he’s flexible. He could fill a front line roll once he gets some decent armor (would plan to take Heavy Armor Proficiency at lvl 2) or he could function in more of a healer/support role. With all of the fire spells available through the Light domain he could also be a serviceable ranged damage dealer if that is a niche that needs filling. Backstory:   Lord Commander’s Dispatch, Uktar, 1489 DR Field Agent Beren Hightower Report Lord Commander, I have been charged to survey and report on rumors of recent upheaval in the Ten-Towns of Icewind Dale. I will return with a full report once I have completed my investigation but the remainder of this missive I will dedicate to relating a strange encounter, as I know you have an interest in such things. When I arrived in Targos yesterday it was late of hour so I made my way directly to Kelvin’s Comfort. I was tired, dusty from a long day's travel, and thought it courteous not to bother our local agent so late in the day. The bustle of dinner had long since subsided and the tables were sparsely populated but a singular patron caught my eye. A Tabaxi sat alone at the bar, sipping a mug of spiced wine. I’ve not met one of the catfolk before and my demeanor must have shown it. He noticed my staring almost immediately and gestured to an empty seat beside him. I’d scarcely sat down before he’d ordered me a mug of wine and a full plate of food. When I made to offer him coin for the food he refused, demanding instead a story as payment. As I introduced myself and shared some of the rumors I’d heard of giants in the north, I took stock of my new companion. He was a large fellow, powerfully built and covered in short white fur. He bore an impressive mane that was braided as ornately and carefully as any dwarf’s beard. I judged him to be a mercenary, owing to the worn suit of mail and dusty traveler’s sack that lay at his feet. A polished bronze shield was strapped to the sack and an ornate pendant depicting a stylized copper sun hung from his neck. I might have taken him for a Lathanderite if not for the exotic nature of both symbol and bearer. Though I saw no weapons he had a dangerous look about him. I would soon discover, however, that the rough outward appearance belied his true nature and I found myself at ease in his presence. The gossip about the giants seemed to pique his interest and he proved a rapt audience. After I concluded, he insisted that he share his own story. His manner of speech was strange indeed. He spoke of himself in the third person, referring to himself interchangeably as Kaz’adim, Kaz, and Sunchaser. The last of which may have been an honorific. I have recounted an abridged version of his tale below: “This one is honored to be gifted your story, friend, and must now insist that he repay you in kind. You may call this one Kaz’adim, Kaz’adim the Sunchaser, or simply Kaz. To this one, it is all the same. Kaz can see that you look upon him with curiosity. He is used to this, so far from home. His homeland is a mountainous, misty, and many clouded forest far to the South and East. It is seldom that the Tabaxi of this Clouded Forest feel the sun on their fur. For most, this is simply the way of things. But Kaz… he cannot bear it. He is ever seeking the sun in cloudbreaks and on mountaintops. It is for this reason that he is given the name Sunchaser. It is for this reason also that he leaves his homeland when he comes of age. For some time now this one has traveled to the West and North, chasing the sun along the coast but never catching it. As he travels, Kaz meets many interesting people and trades for many interesting stories. Eventually, Kaz finds himself in the House of the Sun. It is here that he sees a Man of the Light wielding the Light’s power. This one wishes also to embrace the Light and wield its power, but does not wish to live in the House of the Sun for many years as the Men of the Light say he must. And so Kaz strikes out again, once more chasing the sun. Always before, Kaz follows the sun and never catches it but now he believes he is close. He is meant to be here. Kaz can feel it in his bones. And when the Sunchaser finally embraces the sun’s light, he will carry it to all the dark corners of the world.” He went on at some length to describe the various ways in which he enjoys sleeping in the sun. I’ll not waste your time detailing them all here. They were many. I have consulted several maps and as best I can tell he is on a religious pilgrimage that may have begun in the Marching Mountains of Calimshan (what he calls the Clouded Forest) though where it ends I could not begin to guess. I do not believe that he poses a threat to the region or to our interests. With good luck and good weather, this letter should precede my return to Mirabar by no more than a week. Faithfully, Field Agent Hightower

[penbeast0]

 

Pakak, the problem child Name: When he was born, the child was named NâmmaKik, meaning “come at the right time.” He was the child of prophecy, born to defeat a great evil that was foretold. But, as he grew into his teenage years, the tribal elders renamed him Pakak, meaning “one who gets into everything,” and this is the name he calls himself. Race: Pakak was born of the Sossal Nunangat, "the people of land, water, and ice," humans who inhabit the frozen lands and the Great Ice Sea. Class: Sorcerer (Favored Soul) Background: Far Traveler. Very few of Pakak's people ever leave their homeland though the people of the Dales have at least heard of them, much of it fanciful. We don't live in ice houses year round, it's a winter shelter out on the flows. We don't rub noses to greet people, it's more like you people kissing each other hello. And, we don't share our wives with strangers who happen to visit. So, don't visit please.   Trait: I like a job well done, especially if I can convince someone else to do it. Trait: I have been known to stretch the truth for the sake of a good story. Ideal: Adventure. I'm far from home, and everything is strange and wonderful! Bonds: I'm fascinated by the beauty and wonder of this new land. Flaw: I have a weakness for the new intoxicants and other pleasures of this land. Appearance: With pale, almost white, sun-weathered skin, long white beaded and braided hair, and robust good health, he could be considered handsome. His constant grin and enjoyment of life attract both men and women, at least until they figure out that he is a magnet for trouble. Character Concept: Every favored soul sorcerer I've run with has been a goody two shoes, like the original D&D paladin archtype. However, I was thinking that if you are marked from birth as special and favored of the gods, you could certainly go a different route without being an evil person. So Pakak is a mischief maker, one who liked to play jokes and break rules just for fun. The Icewind Dales location made me think of native northerners; skraelings and the like. I used Inuit to represent Sossal language and culture, but Pakak isn't bound by those conventions as he has assimilated into the culture of the Dales, at least outwardly. In terms of his party role, he is something of a glass cannon as you would expect. The favored soul gives him healing and some extra versatility to adapt to what the party needs. Backstory: Born with a prophecy that he would defeat a great evil, young NâmmaKik grew up indulged and spoiled. His powers manifested early and he quickly grew willful and undisciplined. As he grew into his teenage years, the clan shaman despaired of ever getting him to focus on his learning. There were always too many distractions and he was constantly in trouble for one reason or another. At the age of 15, he violated one too many taboos and the elders met to determine a course of action. After long and heated discussion, they renamed him Pakak, the troublemaker, and exiled him from the lands that they claimed. Pakak wandered south, toward the towns of the Aalla, those who were different. There he quickly fell in with the adventurers, who drank, womanized, and lived lives that were often cut short but rarely boring. It was a good fit and when this adventure came along, Pakak was easily recruited (he may have been a bit drunk at the time).   https://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=92574

[Thebardstale]

Application Name: Milena Coslan Race: Human Class: Wizard Appearance: Milena was tought the way she presents herself is important and as a red wizard the way she dresses is a matter of pride that she should never neglect, a concept she has internalized and can be seen when looking at her. Her red robes are designed to be elegant while not being constrictive of her movement, deep red in color with details in golden broidery. She wears bracelets, collars and other jewelry and keeps her hair long and neatly brushed to convey an image of importance. Character Concept: Milena is an arcane researcher and she will go out of her way to uncover any magical secret or item she comes across. She's always looking to learn new things and expand her knowledge, specially if it's arcane in nature. To her gold is only as useful as it helps her improve her magical knowledge and maintain the proper image of a red wizard, although that is a secondary purpose. She is generally easy going when it comes to matters unrelated to her studies which allows her to work well with almost any group, but she can be stubborn and sometimes even temperamental when it comes to things she cares deeply about. Also, she doesn't have a sense of humor. Backstory: Milena doesn't remember much from her childhood except from studying under Minhor Coslan, her red wizard master. The red wizard saw much potential in her and bought her from her parents at a very young age and adopted her as his own, so all of her memories are from studying countless hours under her master’s strict regime. With her master belonging to the researchers’ faction of exiled red wizard all she ever had to worry was studying and studying hard, at least she didn’t have to worry about politics, competing with other students or even shaving and tattooing her head. However, the red robes were a must to be worn with pride at all times. During the last few years, Milena developed a sort of symbiotic relationship with one her master’s slaves, a northern man she simply knew as Aldred. One day he started procuring rare materials that she needed for her studies and research. Milena didn’t ask how he acquired them and he didn’t tell, but her master wasn’t complaining so she didn’t think much of it and gave him some of her money or some trinket every time he helped her. Things took a turn for the worse when Aldred came up to her with several arcane scrolls which she recognized as belonging to master Minhor. The young apprentice ordered the slave to return them, but when she went to tell her master what had happened the slave ambushed her and stabbed her with a dagger he acquired using the rewards she gave him. Milena discovered then that he had been preparing an escape for a while as he had obtained enough tools to remove his collar and escape using one of Minhor’s scrolls –one he was lucky enough to cast without incident- to teleport himself away. Milena’s master was furious when he found out what had happened. It was then that she learnt that the slave had also stolen one of his master’s prized artifacts along with the scrolls. There was only one way to make things right, she had to hunt down the escapee and recover what had been stolen. Her master was able to track his artifact’s location to somewhere in the spine of the world, so he hired a bounty hunter and a few henchmen to accompany Milena in her quest. She bought a horse and supplies to last for a month and they were all teleported away to the spine of the world. Before he sent them away, her master forbade her from returning without the stolen goods. Although he didn’t care about the escaped slave’s fate, Minhor hinted that he wouldn’t mind if he paid for his crime. Teleportation at such long distances is unreliable at best and the group arrived somewhere north-east of Kelvin’s Cairn, but close to Icewind Pass. The hunt was short lived, however, as a terrible snow storm caught the hunting party halfway across Icewind Pass causing an avalanche to fall upon them. Milena was spared the same fate as her companions simply because she couldn’t control her horse’s temper and it bolted away carrying her away from the avalanche just before they were buried under the snow. The horse eventually tossed her off the saddle and she was left with only the basic equipment and supplies she was carrying on herself. The wizard eventually arrived at Caer-Konig but she was desperate and without the tools needed to finish her mission, which left her without many options. With no way to catch the thief and no way back home –she would be unwelcome even if she could make the trip back somehow- all she could do was try to make the best of a bad situation. Milena had heard that the spine of the world was home to many magical treasures and secrets and if there was one thing she was good at and she loved doing, it was researching magical secrets. Perhaps one day Milena would be able to return to her master, but for now she was looking forward to the next arcane secret she can uncover so she was keeping her ears open for any rumors, and her eyes looking for a group that might be willing to dare the cold.

[Tyeal]

Actually had this character app for another adventure set in Icewind Dale but sadly didn't make the cut. Maybe he'll be a better fit for this game!

Character App Name: Ljorn Bestel of Clan Oslegeth Race: Firbolg Class: Barbarian (Zealot)/Rogue (Phantom) Description: Ljorn is something of a living history lesson. Resembling nothing of what most folks recognize as a Firbolg, he looks like a very tall mountain man. Some might even claim half-giant, well out of earshot. His clan, and others like his, are natural mountaineers. Well adapted and hearty folk native to the frigid north of Icewind Dale. His clan grounds is a few days ride from Byrn Shander where Ljorn has made his home. Acting as a hired hand/tour guide, offering honed strength and helpful advice in equal measure to those that need it most. As for his antlers? He doesn't like talking about them... Character Overview:   Backstory: Bravery, Effort, and Honor over birth The tribe's honor before your honor The blood of a runt is the blood of a king Give one thousand for nothing Truth is the honor of the tribe These are words Ljorn grew up with, lived and died with, as did everyone in Clan Oslegeth. Following this creed is what kept them alive for so many generations in the frozen wastelands of Icewind Dale. Even as each generation grows smaller than the last... Ljorn was teased and poked fun of for his antlers. Even as a child they made him stick out among the other Firbolg boys and girls of his village, not to mention affected his balance as his grew. As a child he was reserved and withdrawn, speaking softly but politely to his fellow clansmen. His parents would comfort him with such pearls of wisdom like 'Words spoken in truth will be heard by all.' Or something like 'Even a storm can catch the hunter unaware.' His adolescence was the most difficult. His antlers growing larger affecting his balance and ability to fight, survival training where he was shot at more than once over being mistaken for a particularly large elk or moose. And each time he just brushed it off and resumed his task. Not shouting, not raising his voice, not even a scowl. Then Ljorn got a vision. To seek out a certain tree, dry out its bark, and chew it. The dream was weirdly compelling. And it was something he couldn't shake. Even when speaking of it with the clan's herbalist he suspected it was a mostly harmless tree Ljorn described. So he found the tree of his vision, collected the bark, and popped a piece in his- He awoke an hour later bound in ropes, covered in cuts and bruises, guarded by three other clansmen. Their Leader, Barslov the Tall, explained that Ljorn had gone on some kind of rampage through the village. Blindly fighting anyone and everyone in his path and fought three trained warriors on his own and held his ground. Ljorn didn't know what to say; He had never felt like he had after taking that bark. Something just... awoke inside of him. He did mention his vision but left out the part with actually taking the bark. Ending in Barslov forbidding him from learning any more about that tree and warning the village of its blood boiling properties. If such a plant could make someone as soft-spoken as him go wild, who knows what it could do to someone else? Time passed after that incident. Then, one day, Barslov called everyone together for an emergency meeting. He had been approached by some group of bandit leaders as well as a man in a fine black coat, with rings on all his fingers and around his neck. He explained that he planned to pay Barslov handsomely for their ancestral lands as they had all heard rumors there was supposedly an untapped silver vein running deep underneath the burial grounds of Clan Oslegeth. Naturally, he spat on the offer. The well-dressed man then promised to bring his forces here and merely take it all for himself. And rode off with the bandit leaders. Barslov explained the deep gripping fear that fancy man gave him, and took this threat seriously. He gave everyone able the task of either raising funds or gathering forces and supplies, demanding that they would need everything they could muster to ensure their homelands didn't fall to this strange, alarming man. That was a year ago now. Ljorn took to Bryn Shander, thinking his more gentle nature could let him work more easily with others and gain their favor. He still towered over everyone there but he was a patient Firbolg. And has been steadily amassing what coin and power he can to ensure his clan's future. Unaware of what lay further down that path... RP Sample: THWACK. THWACK. THUNK. Ljorn exhaled a great cloud of steam as he buried the hatchet in the tree stump. Hatchet to him, at least. He leaned down and scooped the two big piles of firewood he chopped and carried it off to one of the village healers' firewood bin. They clattered loudly under the covered area and caused said healer to poke her head out. "Done already?" wheezed Mother Suthe, the tough-as-snowsteel Half-Orc herbalist that most avoided due to her coarse attitude. But none could deny the depth and breadth of her healing knowledge, particularly on anatomy. "It wasn't that much." Ljorn replied in his sonorous baritone, brushing flakes from his beard. She barked a laugh. "Last time I asked a couple boys t'cut that much wood it was dark when they finally finished! An' had the stones to demand I feed 'em!" She shook her head, grumbling to herself as she retreated inside. The Firblog man stomping in after her to thaw and brush off snow. He grunted softly as he went to stand from ducking under the doorway with Mother Suthe's firm grip on his antler. She was looking very closely at them again, a knife in her other hand. "You sure I can't have just a point, Ljorn? Ya wouldn't-" "Let. Go." His voice didn't change. But his tone sounded like the start of a landslide. She did so quickly, sheathing her knife. "Fine, fine! Offer's always there if you change yer stubborn mind." She went back to grumbling, placing a couple silver on the table that Ljorn gathered and dropped into a pouch under his shirt. "Good day Mother Suthe." He rumbled flatly, collecting his massive hammer from where he left it by the door and headed out into the town to find more work.

[47Ronin]

My application is complete, though I am open to any suggestions for improvements or refinements. From anyone, really.

[Flying Fox]

Originally Posted by 47Ronin

My application is complete, though I am open to any suggestions for improvements or refinements. From anyone, really.

Thanks 47Ronin! I'm concerned about creating an undue sense of expectation and/or disappointment, so I don't think I'll be offering feedback before selection - I'll limit myself to flagging anything I've asked for that might be missing from an app, which I'll start doing a little closer to the deadline.

Thanks again to everyone who's applied so far! Lots (and lots) of great characters coming in already. I'll also just echo this for anyone who missed it (thanks Snicker):

Originally Posted by Snicker

That ranger in particular was designed to meet specific requirements in a 3.5 game. I may recycle the concept for this game, or may not! Flying Fox and I agreed it would be most fair if we look at the crop of applications and I'll create a character that works best with the group.

So, everyone, don't sweat the party makeup! Submit whatever character you'd like to play!