[D&D-5e] From the Shadows

[JaredSyn]

Application Antryg Kentacre Human Sorceror (Clockwork Soul) Alignment: Lawful Neutral Appearance: Antryg is a somber looking fellow who appears to not take joy or sorrow in anything. In fact his expression is usually void of any sort of emotion whatsoever. He is just shy of six feet in height and has a lithe slender build. He has long grey hair that is worn loose and piercing ice blue eyes. He wears along grey beard that is well maintained like all of his clothing and gear. Personality: Some would say that Antryg is devoid of a personality. The fact of the matter though is that he sees things in a very mannered way. He does not allow emotion to cloud his judgement her relies on the facts and nothing more. Often suggesting a course of action that might seem harsh to some, but is the most reasonable choice in his eyes. He can be friendly and works well with others even though he very often does not agree with the way things might be handled and has no remorse for offering his own suggestions. Backstory: Antryg grew up in the Sigil also known as the City of Doors. As a child he lived on the streets, but as he reached his teen years he was able to take a position that had him working primarily with Modron's. Their structured way of thinking and acting seemed very attractive to him after a chaotic childhood on the streets. In his late teens he had begun to develop abilities, which he worked tirelessly to control and shape to his own will. The longer he worked with him though the more he began to model their behavior in turn. As such he continued to work with the Mordon's until he finally reached adulthood. Not long after meeting a pretty young woman his age and marrying her, to start a family content with his role with the Modron's. They were wed 5 year before their first child arrived a beautiful baby girl with her mother's looks and her father's eyes. Over the years they had two more children two boys. Antryg enjoyed his work and his life in general doing his daily work, before returning home to his wife and children. The years went by quickly and before he even realized the children were all grown and off on their own leaving him and his wife alone once more. It was not long after though that his wife took ill, and eventually passed away. After that things changed for Antryg his prior contentment seemed to be gone along with his wife and he desired more out of life. HE had always had some innate magical ability, so he decided to dedicate himself to learning how to control and use it. Once he had gained control with limited success he decided to leave Sigil and find his way in the world and experience it firsthand. Seeking out a portal he left the City of Doors behind and all it held. When he stepped through the portal entering a dismal place that seemed like the sun itself hid in the shadows. Coming to a small village he took shelter and learned of the troubles faced by those who lived there. A sense of purpose once more filling him the more he learned.Antryg settled in for some time, helping to deal with a variety of issues that arose, from minor crimes to dealing with the strange creatures that stalked the night. It was a simple life but a rewarding one for him. He often spoke with the gypsies who most looked down upon, but to him they were intriguing, their chaotic lifestyle though certainly not his idea of a suitable one. It was during his second year in Braovia when a few animals went missing and then a couple people as well. Antryg was intent on finding the source of the disappearances. While searching he found a trail and chose to follow it to see what he would find. As he followed the trail the moon rose higher into the sky, he knew it was best to turn back, but he feared if he did he would lose the trail. Just after dark as he followed the tracks he was attacked from behind. The first and last thing he saw was the shape of a massive human shaped wolf he knew instantly it was a werewolf, and though he tried to fight the beast off he succumbed to his wounds. Background: WiP Personality Traits: WiP Flaw: WiP Ideal: WiP Bond: Wip   Initiative: Action: Bonus Action: Free Action: Move Action: Reaction: Conditions: OOC:

[Chylopan]

Originally Posted by Treble83

Not to speak for the DM but I did want to give you a heads up. He's pretty adamant about the sources allowed and the DMG isn't listed under sources.

You know what, I think you're right. Apologies. I sometimes forget, being a DM, that the PHB and DMG are separate things, haha.

Ah, c'est la vie! It was a fun thought-experiment then!

[Carmac]

I should actually have been a bit more specific both about the allowed sources and the state of the PC's when they are returned to life. I do the same thing and class PHB and DMG the same as far as sources go, so yes I will allow the Oathbreaker in this case. I'll update my allowed sources to account for both. However I should say that the PC's will not be undead when they are brought back.....its fairly complicated and I don't want to say anymore about it for fear of spoilers, but they will be alive FWIW.

[Chylopan]

Originally Posted by Carmac

I should actually have been a bit more specific both about the allowed sources and the state of the PC's when they are returned to life. I do the same thing and class PHB and DMG the same as far as sources go, so yes I will allow the Oathbreaker in this case. I'll update my allowed sources to account for both. However I should say that the PC's will not be undead when they are brought back.....its fairly complicated and I don't want to say anymore about it for fear of spoilers, but they will be alive FWIW.

That definitely answers my question. Although, it does change my character's aesthetic concept, since I was going to give him a skeletal appearance. No worries. I can work around that.

Appreciate the feedback.

[Hal Hammerhand]

I am thinking about dipping into the Ravenloft book a bit but I have some questions.

A hexblood is a mix between a Witch and a demon or some such but does it have to look like what it shows in the book?

[Carmac]

Originally Posted by Hal Hammerhand

A hexblood is a mix between a Witch and a demon or some such but does it have to look like what it shows in the book?

It doesn't have to look like the book, feel free to mix it up.

[Togot]

Name: Elwin Fireblood
Race: human
Class: wizard evoker
alignment: lawful neutral
Background: noble
Personality Traits:
I am a hard worker, driven by purpose
My favor, once lost, is lost forever
Ideal: Knowledge. The path to power and self-improvement is through knowledge.

Bond: one day I will return to my family and make them acknowledge my worth

Flaw: I cannot take criticism

Appearance: Like all members of the fireblood family, Elwin has red hair which he keeps short and well kept. He wears fine blue robes and is of average build. Due to his good upbringing, he appears in good health and of good breeding. He stands at five foot nine and weighs a hundred and sixty pounds. Beneath his robes, Elwin’s chest is marred with a large burn scar delivered upon him by his younger sister.

Personality: Elwin his pleasant and genial most of the time, often trying to charm his way into others’ good graces with his wit and good looks. He is an extremely driven hard worker who believes that hard work trumps natural talent and he is hell bent on proving it.

Backstory: Born the first son of the prestigious fireblood family, things were expected of Elwin. his family’s prosperity relied on their natural magical talent at controlling flames, so when it was discovered that Elwin didn’t have the gift, he was disowned and discarded, his position of heir instead being given to his younger and talented sister Elra. Elwin contested the decision and challenged his sister to a duel which she easily won, badly burning his body leaving it permanently scarred.

Filled with resentment and bitterness, but also a stubborn defiance, Elwin proved that though he could not create magical fire, his heart burned with determination and horrifying will. He vowed he would return and reclaim his birthright. In pursuit of that goal, he dedicated himself to studying magic the hard way, becoming a skilled wizard who specialized in fire magic.

Fearing his return, his sister ambushed Elwin with several of his cousins loyal to her. Though he put up a valiant fight, numbers overwhelmed. Elwin was killed and discarded once again like so much trash.

RP Sample:

 

Elwin sat as his campfire watching the flames flicker and dance as they pushed back the darkness all around him. though he did not have the gift of his bloodline, he still felt an affinity for the flames. His wizard blood burned as hot as any of his sorcerous kin. his mind, as ever, was focused on his family and how they had wronged him. they had judged him worthless and thrown him away simply because magic hadn’t come to him naturally. They had abandoned their own first-born son like he was nothing.

It was the indignation at that injustice which fueled Elwin to excel in all things in order to prove his worth, to prove them all wrong. He would make them acknowledge him. he would reclaim his birthright, not through some genetic trait, but through hard work and effort. By deed, not chance.

The sound of a foot stepping on a stick alerted Elwin to the danger a second before he saw the bead or red fly at him. he knew instantly what it was for he had cast the spell many times himself. He had just enough time to cast misty step to teleport out of the blast zone before the fire ball engulfed his campsite.

He quickly cast mage armor on himself as he hid close by seeking his attacker.

“Did we get him?” a man asked, stepping into the light.

“That was easy,” said a woman. “Guess you had nothing to worry about Elra.”

Elra! Elwin knew that name well, for it was the name of the one he sought to defeat and depose. It was the name of his younger sister. So, she was behind this attack. but how many were with her? At least two. and only one had revealed themself so far.

Two more stepped into the light, a man and a woman, but not Elra. “Where’s his body?” the woman asked. Before they could realize their mistake, Elwin fired his own fire ball. They barely had time to scream before the explosion engulfed them in flames, killing the three of them.

Before their bodies even fell to the ground, a wall of fire formed behind and around the sides of Elwin, trapping him. out of the shadows stepped a woman that Elwin recognized instantly. She was tall with long red hair. “Elra…”Elwin said as his sister stepped forward flanked by two of their cousins. “Nice trick.”

“I didn’t come here to talk, outcast," Elra said. “You know what this is about. Now I have to finish what I started.” The three of them held up their hands and fired several spells. In defiance Elwin fired a fireball back at them, but he didn’t live to see if it landed. The flames claimed him. an ironic end for a fire mage.

[Hal Hammerhand]

 

WIP: Name: STR 16, DEX 16, CON 16, INT 8, WIS 8, CHA 10Jaina Ironflow Race: Feat: ChargerHuman (Variant) Alignment: Chaotic Good Class: Barbarian (Berserker) Background: Guild Artisan (Blacksmith) Personality traits: -I believe anything worth doing is worth doing right, I'm a perfectionist. -I don't part with my money easily and will often haggle tirelessly to get the best deal. Ideal: -Freedom. Everyone should be free to pursue their own livelihood. (Chaotic) Bond: -I was given limited privileges among my guild and am unable to work fully under their title until I prove myself. Flaw: -I'll do almost anything to get my hands on something rare or priceless in pursuit of my masterpiece. Appearance: Jaina is a tall woman, easily over six and half feet tall and has a strong, curvy build that speaks to her maturity of womanhood and her hardy profession as a blacksmith. She has thick auburn-red hair that she keeps loosely braided and tied back to keep it mostly out of her face. She has intense green eyes that seem always clear and focused except when she's drinking like a dearf. Her skin is ruddy and somewhat sooty at times due to exposure to the forge she calls her workplace. She has a tattoo that covers her upper chest, above her bosom, an eagle with it's wings outstretched and talons up, gripping a shield with many cracks. She wears a sleeveless white cotton work shirt that is cut in a deep 'V' at the neck and ties at the waist of tough work trousers with patches of leather on the front of her thighs, covering the area between the top of her thigh down to her knee. Calf-high leather boots, elbow-length leather gloves and a thick leather work apron complete her work outfit but she foregoes the apron when she is adventuring. She carries her smithing tools on her belt in the leather loops along with a well-worn dagger that she uses for utility. Her main weapon is a two-handed maul crafted by her adoptive father. Personality: Jaina is somewhat headstrong and proud but she tries to temper that with patience and diplomacy. She hates parting with money when she thinks she might be able to get a better deal. She carries a deep respect for her elders but is out to find the perfect material and rarities to create her masterpiece so she can prove herself to the guild, which makes her somewhat reckless. At the end of the day, she's rough and gruff like a typical dwarf but has a big heart for anyone she calls friend. Backstory: In the valley of Chiggory, a small caravan moved through the wooded area. This caravan consisted of a small family, a man who's talent was woodworking and a woman with deep red hair that was a masterful tailor and also helped her husband in everything that he did. With them, was a little bundle of joy, barely a month old, wrapped in a red blanket. In the wagon was everything they owned, as they sought a place of peace to settle down and raise their child. As night fell, so did the bandits, ambushing the small wagon and killing both the adults. As the woman fell from the wagon, in an attempt to save her only child, she was able to hide her among the reeds in the ditch along the road. Nearly three days later, the bandits had moved on and instead, a dwarven smith traveled along that same road, with the same dream of peace. What Gorran Ironflow fond was the leavings of the bandits, a wrecked wagon and it's two occupants, slain. As he was inspecting the state of the slain and the wagon that he heard the mewling of a baby and as he raised his head, he caught a glimpse of the red blanket that swaddled the young one. The wizened dwarf lifted the red-blanket wrapped bundle from the ditch and folded back the cloth. As he was fixed with those big green eyes of the little child and when the infant looked up at him, it was as if they both imprinted on one another, they were bound, father and daughter from that point forward. In the village of Jiguuna was where Gorran and his new daughter, named Jaina now, settled, finally. He found plenty of work pretty quickly as the village lacked any sort of blacksmith and he found himself quite busy, restoring the abandoned forge and caring for a small infant. With help from the local women with the infant, he managed to get his forge up and running and was repairing everything from plow blades to making horseshoes in no time at all. Fortunately, for the wizened dwarf, the life of a human is far shorter than that of a dwarf. In the mere blink of an eye, his new daughter had grown from infant to running around the smithy, playing adventurer with her red cape wrapped about her shoulders and at night, he did little to stave off her dreams, telling her bedtime stories about his adventures and the adventures of other dwarves in his homeland of Dwarf-Forge. As Jaina grew into her early teenage years, she pushed herself to learn her father's trade and begged him for any fighting lessons he was willing to give her. RP Sample:

[Chylopan]

Charnel Knight Name: Ser Yorick Race: Human (Custom Lineage) Alignment: Chaotic/Neutral Good Class: Paladin 3 (Oathbreaker) / Warlock 2 (Hexblade) Background: Knight Personality: Dour but stalwart. Stoic yet thoughtful. Chivalrous and dutiful in all ways. A proud servant of his liege, whose enemies he did dispense wrath upon, and whose allies were made to feel as kith and kin — alas, no longer! Oh yes, once upon a time he may have been a knight for true, a champion of the realm, a leader of men... but now, after a wicked gambit saw fit to eclipse his heart, Ser Yorick recalls these virtues and deeds like one might the shadow of a thought in the periphery of their mind; it is there, somewhere... elusive, ephemeral like in dreams. He clings to hope not for a better future but to reconcile with the past. Backstory: Master of a chapter of knights in service to a great King, Ser Yorick's duties made him responsible for the protection of the crown and its descendants. This charge required hyper-vigilance, not just of him but for all those who pledged their eternal service, for the king's enemies were many and varied, both foreign and domestic. Often times service called Yorick to the field of battle so that he could mete out threats before they encroached upon the land, and where the Master would go so, too, did the chapter, but when it was that corruption and treachery did befall the homeland he considered it an affront to his very honor; ergo, a deeply personal affair to be handled with extreme prejudice. One such affair came by way of a usurper to the throne, one who had then amassed an army of once-loyal subjects and threatened to bare down on the crown. Day by day the villainous host drew nearer to the throne, cutting a swathe through the conscripted and knightly chapters alike, until, finally, it came to blows on the kingdom's doorstep. In desperation, Yorick turned to whispers of the arcane, to ye olde legend, which told tales of a righteous weapon hidden deep within the realm's darkest chasm. Stories told of a great fiend felled by its might, of an ancient land saved from unspeakable corruption — and so it was; and so it had been found after long quest. But righteous a weapon it was no longer. Upon claiming the legend for his own, a profane evil hidden within it then made itself known to one and all. Ser Yorick was helpless to the rapturous lullaby of its awesome power. It begged of him blood and he had it drink from those who had helped him quest, forsaking his brotherly bond and oath — to save king and country; the ends justified the means. Alas, the end ne'er came. The weapon drank and drank, bestowing power unto the drunken knight, until naught more remained of his true personhood but a sliver to be puppeteered by a great evil. Yorick never made it back to his kingdom. What become of the realm was no longer of any consequence to that which now made him its host. That is, until fate saw fit to sever this foul knight from the mortal coil. Most violently. The who, the how, the why... witnessed only by the evil which drove him mad. Yorick-true resurfaced but in time to die, or so he thought. A creeping, crawling fog then rolled in. Ominous and foreboding. His shepherd. RP Sample:   Writ upon the cavern's walls in blood, in a script once-unknown to Ser Yorick, are the words: blood, the essence. dine. with. me. Bemused, the knight knows not why he suddenly understands the text, nor why it did not seem so clear to him upon first encounter, but, not a moment after he had made slick his hand with blood and taken up the weapon thereupon that stony dais, everything seemed so crystalline, like a fog had been lifted (and something else did take its place). "Ah, most rejuvenating," a sultry-sweet voice called out to him from the dark. "You feel it, too. Is it not intoxicating?" "I've done as you have asked. I've done..." Unspeakable things. "Well. You've done very, very well." What followed was a mockingly glib laugh; one vile and goading. "But still I am weak. My champion, I beseech thee! More. I need..." Yorick turned the blade in hand to peer at his reflection within its mirror-like sheen. He did not recognize that which now stared back at him. Be it an angel? A demon? The knight feared what may become of him were he to look any longer. "So be it." Yorick choked up on the weapon's hilt, reveling in its power, before stepping over the corpses of the kinsmen he had cut down. Once more, he thought. Then his duty to king and country could be upheld.

[Zangul]

NAME: K'yorl A'Daragon

K'yorl A'Daragon

RACE: Drow

ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral

CLASS: Rogue 1 / Sorcerer 4 origin Shadow magic

BACKGROUND: Haunted One

PERSONALITY: K'yorl looks at the world as a giant puzzle waiting to be solved. Life, Death the mystery within it all, is intriguing, yet never satisfying. For one answer brings two more questions. He doesn't just jump into the fray, he thinks it through and plans his moves and actions. Every situation has a solution, and all tasks is get it done by any means necessary.

APPEARANCE: K'yorl wears black leather armor with a black wool cloak with a hood. The hood hides his drak elf face, but his bright purple eyes glow in the dark hood. His leather armor has long sleeves to cover the hand prints on his shoulders, and keeps the everlasting chill of his arms from being touched. A memento left behind from the undead shadow that took his strength and left him for dead. When the hood is down you see a grey face Drow with long silver hair that flows down his back. When he speaks it's with a stern and malevolent voice.

PERSONALITY TRAITS: 1) I spend money freely and live life to the fullest, knowing that tomorrow I might die. 2) I don’t talk about the thing that torments me. I’d rather not burden others with my curse.

Ideals: I have a dark calling that puts me above the law.

BOND: I would sacrifice my life and my soul to protect the innocent.

FLAW: I have certain rituals that I must follow every day. I can never break them.

Harrowing event: My shadow or what I believed to be my shadow killed me and scared my shoulders with it's hand prints and left my arms in a never ending chill. Arms always feel frozen to the touch, and can never get warm.

BACKSTORY:My shadow lifted me up arms length hands on both shoulders like a frozen clamp. Then it looked me in the eyes and I felt my strength and life force leaving my body. Then in an instant my limp body lays on the ground motionless. A calming voice echos through the air and says now is not the time. A flash of light and a gasp of air later I find myself back in my body. My arms a frozen to the touch and two hand prints fuzed into my shoulders. When I stand up I noticed that my shadow was gone, but it is out there somewhere..... Lurking, Stalking, waiting for that moment again to strike out. It's my curse.

RP SAMPLE: " K'yorl do you Have it? You are going to be a legend!" Hector pats him on the arms to congratulate him. "Your arms are so cold! Demon! Get away."

"I am no more a demon, as you are a honest shop keeper. Now enough with the nonsense. No I did not get the Chalice, the map was wrong as I suspected it was a fake. The Chalice of everlasting life is just a myth. "

"What are we going to do now, you have looked high and low and can never seem to find it." Hector orders another drink and passes out after making way to his room.

No one can find out what happened at the tower. But the Chalice is real I felt it. My shadow killed me and something brought me back. Limited time to save the world. Just to die again. "Another round for everyone." goes to his room to process all that expired the night before when the old women cursed him.

In undercommon "A l'yorn d'jal ussta bwael karma, k'alf netrannes ulu Source, agape ssinssrigg, lu'selfless acts, Usstan joros l'galavern ulu qualla drewst jal negative entities dal nindol qu'ellar. Dos ph'naut al'doer ghil, ji qualla alu rath ulu vel'klar dos doerrus dal"

 

By the power of all my good karma, direct connection to Source, agape love, and selfless acts, I ask the universe to please remove all negative entities from this house. You are not welcome here, so please go back to where you came from.

PS:I know I said house but couldn't find the right word to use. This is also my ritual before starting each day and going into a trance state be an inn, bed roll camping, just before meditation.

[RossN]

Application Name: Masanra Alignment: Neutral Race: Dhampir Class: Rogue Subclass Inquisitive Background: Urchin Appearance: A pale, slender attractive woman with white-blonde hair and blue eyes. With her sharp features and graceful movement, many first meeting her assume she has Elven blood. She doesn't, but it is an error Masanra has often left uncorrected - or even deliberately misled others about. She appears to be in her mid-20s but is in fact several decades older and her long career without obviously aging helped feed into the assumption she was at least part Elf. Personality: Clever, perceptive and cynical with a strong if biting sense of humour. Most of the time she comes across as rather aloof and she has few close friends, especially given her reluctance to disclose her true nature. Masanra is a professional and fulfils her contracts honestly and honourably, charging high fees for her skill. She also has a code of ethics she won't cross when it comes to jobs - while she will certainly kill evil-doers in her line of work she is very clear she is detective and bounty hunter, not an assassin for hire. On the occasions when her iron control does crack she becomes downright terrifying. Backstory: Masanra was always a perceptive sort and survived a difficult youth as an orphan in the city of Palanthas in Ansalon on the world of Krynn. Initially a successful pickpocket, as she entered her late teens she enjoyed an illicit romance with a member of the City Watch. Though the romance didn't linger it did spark an interest in working for the side of law in the young woman. Too stubbornly independent and fond of coin to join the Watch she instead became a freelance inquisitive, investigating crimes and moonlighting as a bounty hunter. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) for Masanra an investigation into a mysterious kidnapping led her straight into the lair of an urban vampire. The undead creature half turned the young woman but did not complete the process that would turn Masanra into a full vampiress, preferring to have a slave who could operate in daylight. It took Masanra months to shake off the mental control of her powerful master - and months more to arrange his death and her own freedom. Now a dhampir she fled Palanthas and spent the next three decades moving around Ansalon, continuing her career but leaving towns every few years before people began to wonder why she never seemed to age or why so many of the criminals she tangled with ended up dead of blood loss (except for a few regrettable incidents where she has lost control Masanra has stuck to draining the blood of the worst of the worst - murderers and slavers and so on.) Her career came to an abrupt end when she was successfully framed by a real vampire for the murders of several serving girls. The vampire (a cousin of sorts being created by Masanra's old master) drugged the wine in the inn the dhampir was staying at, causing her to temporarily lose control and mindlessly give into her bloodlust. When the city watch found her drinking a barmaid dry they dragged the still confused dhampir out into the crossroads and beheaded her there and then to make sure the "vampiress" was fully dead... RP Sample: WIP

[cool hand luke]

A couple of questions, I have a couple warlock builds I was interested in, when the warlock comes back to life is the pact still in tact and does the patron automatically know there subject is back among the living?

[Chylopan]

@Carmac - I do believe my application is complete. Had a blast writing it!

Looking forward to reading more! Good luck everyone.

[Carmac]

Originally Posted by cool hand luke

A couple of questions, I have a couple warlock builds I was interested in, when the warlock comes back to life is the pact still in tact and does the patron automatically know there subject is back among the living?

Yes and yes.

[Treble83]

I decided to pivot completely to Paladin. Hope he's not too vanilla but thought that it might be an interesting dynamic to throw him into a place that is so far from everything he knows and believes.