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Old 02-26-2019, 10:47 PM
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Banquet of the Damned D&D 5e

Game NameBanquet of the Damned DnD 5e

Game SystemDnD 5e

ThemeSave a town from disaster

FlavourInvestigation then heroism

Plot Summary

Game Name: Banquet of the Damned D&D 5e by Benoit de Bernardy
Theme: Save a town from disaster
Flavor: Investigation then heroism
Plot summary: Every year, on the tenth of Nightal, the villagers of Womford organize a large banquet in honor of their patron goddess Chauntea. What started out as a small reunion between neighbors has turned into the most important event of the year: the Womford Pie Contest!

DM StyleHello enthusiastic gamers! Ever since I played the Basic Set back in the day, D&D has caught my imagination. Banquet of the Damned is a top seller on DMSGuild.com--5 stars and 53 reviews. I've DMed here on RPGx for a couple of years running and have been a player here and on another PbP site.

I run "Lion, Witch, and Wardrobe" types of adventures for brave heroes not cutthroat assassins. MPAA rating: PG to PG-13. Think the "Hobbit" book NOT "Game of Thrones" book (I threw my copy away after reading the intro sex scene and the F-bomb on page 8!). That's how I roll. :O) I'll use theater of the mind a good bit except for when/if a detailed combat scene requires something else. I like to be part of a good story instead of worrying about power gaming or rules lawyering.

New players are welcome. This is a good adventure to cut your teeth on after your solo game, since it's a one-shot.

I would like players who write detailed and interesting posts. Not one-liners or text speech. Instead, in each post describe what your character is 1. thinking, 2. doing, and 3. saying. Please write at a minimum English level equivalent to a private high school graduate. You can easily edit to clean up when you notice a mistake.

Posting rate: Two times per week. Please plan to keep up for the few months it will require to run this one-shot adventure.

I'm looking for five characters of third level and I'll choose two backups. Please don't apply if you've already played the adventure, since I'll be running it pretty close to the way it is written and it's not that long.

Please apply by March 8 or sooner. I'll choose players fairly soon after I have a batch of good applications. I hate waiting to start. Not necessary to make a character sheet unless you are chosen.

This is a team game. Create a character who will play along with the group.

Character applicationCharacter name:
Character sheet: You do not need a character sheet unless chosen, but may include a link to one if you like.
Ability scores: Roll 4d6 drop lowest for each stat. Please do not roll dice in this thread. Instead, you may roll your ability scores in a private message to me. It's not necessary to roll ability scores unless you are chosen for the game, however. You could just list your ability scores the way you anticipate distributing them on your application in general terms such as: STR low, DEX high, CON moderate, etc. Choose a couple of low scores, a couple of high scores, and a couple of moderate scores.). I am intrigued by characters with flaws such as a low ability score that can be role-played effectively. A low ability score or two will NOT prevent you from being effective in this adventure.
Race and class: Any race and class from free PDF rules or PHB. Official WoTC hardbacks are allowed using the PHB + 1 rule. UA and homebrew are possible but don't pin your hopes/dreams on it. Message me with your requests. I don't own MToF, so I can't allow that stuff.
Level: 3; multiclass is fine.
Gender:
Alignment: No evil alignments and no murder hobos; no player vs. player malicious stuff. Just to be blunt, I prefer good alignments.
Appearance: Image showing face, please, and accompanying description.
Background: You should have a character with a developed personality, which you describe in a one or two paragraphs backstory. Feel free to make a custom background. Read all the characteristics for every race and background and pick and choose among them to make an interesting character. If you want to play a gnome who has some (non-ability related) qualities of dwarves and elves, with a background based on acolyte with qualities of charlatan and folk hero, fine. One or more trinkets? Custom backgrounds are fine, please describe how it fits with your character concept and please don't power game.

In character sample writing: Explain how you came to be in the village of Womford for the Pie Contest. You have made acquaintance with the other PCs (fist bump hello) and it is a little after noon as you walk through Womford for the first time. Story hook if you need it, but not required: Morveg Nightwood is a wealthy merchant who loves good food. When he survived what should have been an incurable disease a few years ago, he decided to taste as many exquisite dishes as possible before he dies, and created the Nightwood Food Foundation to that end. The organization hires adventuring types who travel through Faerûn in search of the best dishes and are paid to collect the best recipes. The Nightwood Food Foundation operates in most of the major settlements around Waterdeep. An agent of the Nightwood Food Foundation has hired you, the adventurer, to attend the Womford Pie Contest and will pay you 25gp for the recipe for the prize winning pie.

House rulesRole before Roll!
No one rolls a skill check until you thoroughly role-play the skill. Want to persuade a guard to let you in to see the Lord Mayor? Talk to the guard, provide a rational or deceptive argument, maybe threaten--never say simply "I roll Persuasion/Intimidation." Never say, "I search the room." Role-play your search like "I use my dwarf knowledge of stonework to test the flagstones on the floor, tapping each for a hollow sound or a thud" OR "I use my keen elf perception to check behind the tapestry, sliding my hands along the cracks in the wall, searching for secret compartments."

Some game mechanics rely on proficiency, expertise, feats, however, so it would be unfair to ignore those mechanics/rolls. Good role-playing will be rewarded with a bonus to your roll. Average role-playing receives no bonus or penalty. Poor or no role-playing will incur a penalty on your roll.

Story plus dice = success.

Rule of cool will apply within reasonable limits (fair to other players; not game breaking). Need to borrow something like a battlemaster maneuver to avoid TPK? Epic! Can't save the fair maiden without changing Ice Storm to Icebridge? Awesome! Need divine intervention? Give it a shot! But... there will be consequences for overextending!

Slow natural healing (DMG p.267); exceptions might include staying in a comfy inn with someone to bandage/tend your wounds. Might not come into play in this one-shot.

Drop to zero HP = one level of exhaustion each time, cumulative. Each level of exhaustion can be removed with a long rest or lesser restoration or Paladin laying on hands. Might not come into play in this one-shot.

Dexterity should not be the sole determinant of who acts first in an encounter (initiative). Some folks can identify threats quickly through mental acuity (Intelligence) while other are keen judges of situations and people (Wisdom). Pick from DEX, INT, and WIS for your modifier to your initiative roll.

Q&AWill you allow Matt Mercer's Bloodhunter? Yes.
Will you allow Fierna Tiefling? Yes.

Applications
PlayerCharacterClassRaceStatusNotes
VokubThybaudin Paladin 3HumancompleteSelected
IhinkaTalanaBlood Hunter 3Humancomplete 
tomplumKerwinWizard 3HumancompleteSelected
ShaedeMiseryRogue 3Tieflingcomplete 
AlluPelaiosDruid 3TieflingcompleteSelected
UrsinorumSnapCleric 3KenkucompleteAlternate
Numen WraithElistarRanger 3Tieflingcomplete 
Chaos HavikLokiBard 3DwarfcompleteAlternate
MeredithSVladimirWarlock 3Tabaxicompletewithdrew
VatheGundakRogue 3Half-Orccompletewithdrew
ZwingliWolfurCleric 3Dwarfcomplete 
penbeast0DobroBarbarian 3Halflingcompleteneeds IC writing sample
Djinni ManDevynFighter 1/Bard 2HumancompleteSelected
Tommyk382DereCleric 1/Monk 2HumancompleteSelected
Arthillian01TerrickFighter 3Humancomplete 
MrCreeJCalonBlood Hunter 3Half-orccomplete 
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DM for Desert of Desolation, 1e to 5e conversion | DM for Banquet of the Damned 5e
| No oaths, but if I start something I will see it through.

Last edited by fromthe1980s; 03-08-2019 at 06:01 PM.
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Old 02-27-2019, 02:16 AM
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You had me on "no one-liners and text speech" I'll have a character for you soon
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Old 02-27-2019, 04:10 AM
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Posting interest, lured in by a combination of cool house rules and the fact I've never played this adventure. Application to follow shortly, I have an idea for a knight in a shiny armor.


Thybaudin, le Faucon
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Character name: Thybaudin Foulqueret Gaucourt d'Gy
Character sheet: TBD
Ability scores: STR: High; CON, CHA: Medium; DEX, WIS, INT: Low.
Race and class: Human (v) Conquest Paladin
Level: 3, no multiclass or plans to.
Gender: Male
Alignment: Neutral Good

Appearance: The most striking detail immediately noticeable about Thybaudin is the way he carries himself. There's a certain hauteur about his gait and stride that allows him to walk through a crowd like a plough through tender soil. Without even needing to push or shove, people seem to naturally get out of his way. He employs a quiet mannerism whenever engaging in social interactions and prefers to listen, process the information and then offer his view on things. The armor and weapons he carries are always polished to a eyewatering shine, he will not be seen with a hair out of place or a smudge of dirt on his face or hands.

Background: Knight.
Thybaudin is a Sword Bearer The first level of a “Knight Officer.”
A “Knight Lieutenant” is a ranked Officer within a Priory or Commandery
that is trusted for extra responsibility and duties.
They have demonstrated faithfulness to their Commanders.
They don’t have their own group to command but perform a function or purpose within their priory.
Knight Lieutenant with les Châtelains du Corbeau, a knightly order established with the cardinal purpose of defending their region of any nefarious influences, attacks or schemes that might directly affect the defenseless populace. He does not have any immediate goals of ascending further in their ranks, being quite content with his station and duties. His graying hair and formidable service track record commands a strong respect from his peers and aspiring novices in the cloister.

In character sample writing:
Accompanying Morveg in his travels has been Thybaudin's assignment for longer than he cares to remember. His order has a vested interest in keeping Morveg safe throughout his travels. The Nightwoods caravans are the lifeline for Fort du Bégueux, the headquarters of the order, and Morveg one of their best allies within the Merchants Guild.
Morveg 's close call with a ravaging disease, where Thybaudin suspects foul play, steeled his senses and pushed him to learn some questionable practices from various characters they encountered during travels. He reasons that anything enabling him to protect the caravan, the party and his employer must have a divine mandate. The one philosophy close to his heart is that offence is the best defense.
The caravan he was presently a part of has recently entered Womford and the group was having a nice stroll through the main street; taking in the smells, noises and hubbub of a bustling settlement was a welcomed change after being so long on the road. His companions were sturdy and reliable folk and he got to know them quite well int he past few weeks. Despite his appearance and apparent spartan nature, Thybaudin knows how to unwind and relax when he feels comfortable in his environment and his companions.
- Bon allors! Zis is more like it! exclaimed Thybaudin looking around. Zis looks like a ville where good vine and better food will treat our enflammeé backsides from all that riding. Maudit chevals...
He continued scanning the crowd and the upper windows of the shops, then patted the person next to him and pointed at Morveg:
- Our maître can have his fun, I can't see any immediate danjer. Don't spend all your monnaies in one inn, he chuckles to himself, please to have mastered this new idiom.
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Last edited by Vokub; 03-06-2019 at 02:40 AM. Reason: updates, grammar
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Old 02-27-2019, 08:32 AM
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Application
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Name: Talana Blood-dancer

Race: Human V

Class: Blood Hunter, Order of Ghostslayer

Ability Scores: TBD

Level: Blood Hunter 3

Gender: F

Age: 35

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Character Sheet: N/A

Background: Gladiator (Variant Entertainer)

 

History:
 


Personality: Talana is straightforward and direct. Sometimes almost to a fault and verging on rude and insensitive. But there is rarely any ill will behind her words or actions. She is also quite competitive and loves a challenge. She can be very flashy at times, something she picked up from being a gladiator and needing to always grab the attention of the audience. For popularity meant good standings and very often even your life. And while she is not the brooding grump with the dark past, Talana has her darker moment as anyone out there. But overall, she is fun to be around and will often entertain people with stories of her gladiatorial bouts or challenge them to arm wrestling, breath holding, and any sort of silly competition she can think of. Having already suffered a fair amount of darkness in her life, she welcomes every bit of joy she can find or disseminate.

Appearance: Talana is of average height, but certainly not short. She is very fit and battle hardened. She wears her armor and her scars proudly as badges of honor. Talana has jet-black hair with strands of grey here and there that she keeps relatively short, barely below the ears. Long enough though that she can tie it up if needed. Her blue eyes are sharp and cunning. Talana has a long scar across her left eye. Starting at her forehead and ending mid-cheek. She has numerous other scars peppering her body, acquired during her life as gladiator.

RP sample:
 
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Last edited by ihinka; 02-27-2019 at 08:34 AM.
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Old 02-27-2019, 08:40 AM
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Application
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Character name: Kerwin Powell

Ability scores:
High: INT & CON
Med: DEX & CHR
Low: WIS & STR

Race and class: Human Variant Wizard

Gender: Male

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Appearance: Short, rotund and hairy, Kerwin is often mistook for the ugliest beardless dwarf with the smallest nose anyone has ever seen. His hair is always a tangled mess and completely unkempt. His clothes are always wrinkled and he rarely has a matching pair of shoes mainly because he hasn't been able to see his feet in many years to take proper note of the discrepancy. He is rarely far from his mule or cart as that is where he keeps most of his belongings. Backpacks are heavy and Kerwin is not one to exert himself when the cart or mule or magically summoned servant can do the carrying. His cart is full of dirty glass vials, some empty, some full of various concoctions. There is no ailment that one of Kerwin's alchemical potions cannot attempt to cure.

Background: Kerwin is not a hero. Kerwin is not a charlatan. No one has ever called Kerwin a hero. Many people have called Kerwin a charlatan. It is often not intentional when his various potions and salves do not have the desired effect. While he did train at the or notprestigious Modern Mystery School, he flunked out after only two semesters. There was little else Kerwin had skill or interest in so he took his failure in stride and set out to make a name for himself. That name soon became 'cheat', 'con', 'fraud', 'imposter', 'quack', or even the official sounding Mountebank of Bolland. An innocent enough mistake when a vial of hair remover was used instead of lice remover on that town's lord.

Most of Kerwin's failings can be solely attributed to his extreme laziness. There is little he will do himself and his studies into magic and alchemy almost exclusively serve the purpose of saving the man from honest work. His constant companion is a crow he conjured out of the aether at great personal expense. Not for Kerwin of course but the man who thought he was ten gold coins of charcoal, incense, herbs and a brazier to heat a salve of wart remover. Well, the man did receive wart remover but only received second degree burns for his trouble. That was why Kerwin was no longer welcome at the Kingsford Summer Market.

For tasks that the crow is incapable of assisting with, Kerwin will gladly spend fifteen minutes of every hour summoning an unseen servant to wash vials, stoke fires, pack the wagon, feed the mule, etc. Nothing in his cart is bundled in quantities that weigh over ten pounds to ensure the magical servant can lift and carry everything Kerwin owns. The man's sloth knows no bounds.

In character sample writing: His stomach was growling. Beauford the mule's stomach was growling. Cornelius the crow's stomach was growling.

"Oh come off it, Cornelius! You're not even real. Such improvisations are unnecessary and do not assist with the plight myself and Beauford find ourselves. How is it some grand wizard has not created a spell to summon food and water?"

The crow gave a loud caw at Kerwin's musing.

"Oh shut up. I would too know how to cast it if there was one."

Just then, Kerwin felt a sharp tug on the rope he was holding that led to Beauford's harness. Looking back, the alchemist found that one wheel of his small two-wheeled cart was hopelessly stuck in a rut and the mule seemed far from inclined to try and pull it out.

"Oh bother."

Kerwin's luck was normally far from good but today the Fates must have been smiling on the man for not nearly five minutes later, a farmer's wagon came rolling down the road. The farmer gladly tied a rope to Kerwin's cart and with the help of his two large farm horses, pulled the small cart out of the rut. The man was heading into a town called Womford for the Pie Contest. Looking in the back of the man's wagon, Kerwin saw bushels of apples, plums and various berries.

The tiny gears in Kerwin's head spun madly as he thought of all the ways he could satisfy his growing list of needs. He could enter the pie contest to fill his belly and he could set up his cart and sell his potions to make money to feed Beauford and refill his stockpile of reagents. Tying Beauford to the back of the farmer's wagon, Kerwin climbed up to sit in the front with the farmer and set his sights for the town of Womford. His troubles were over.
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Last edited by tomplum; 02-28-2019 at 02:40 PM.
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Old 02-27-2019, 01:21 PM
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Application Status - Submitted for Consideration

Misery's application
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Character name: Misery
Character sheet: WIP
Ability scores: WIP
Race: Feral Tiefling ; Class: Rogue (Arcane Trickster)
Gender: Male
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Appearance: Misery is your standard tiefling with protruding horn-like structures atop his head. His black hair and red eyes give many people the shivers as it quickly reminds them that devils walk among them. He has an average height - about 5 feet, 8 inches and a small build. His stature allows him to hide among places that people would generally overlook. His darkened, ash grey skin is also a functional asset of his birth furthering his skills in stealth and subterfuge.
Background: Urchin
History: Misery is his name, and he comes by it naturally. Nobody, not even he, knows what his real name may be. Misery was orphaned when he was just a babe suckling at his mother's breast. Born in Baldur's Gate to a simple merchant who dealt in leather goods, Misery lived a hard life. His parents loved him unconditionally even though their heritage was often met with disdain. One night when Misery was about two years old, some of the local ruffians from the the thieves guild tried to extort money from his father for 'protection.' Misery's father refused. In the early hours of predawn they returned and killed Misery's mother and father. Perhaps they did not have the heart to kill a baby or Asmodeus stepped in and saved the young tiefling, who knows.

Found by the city watch a few days later, Misery was alone and scared. He was turned over to a local orphanage where he would spend his childhood. There, he learned the harsh reality of the streets. Misery was a survivor and became adept at hiding and stealing whatever he needed, whether it be food, clothing, or trinkets. The orphanage kept him clothed and somewhat educated, but he knew that eventually he would be turned out. So, he prepared himself for the life ahead. He was recruited by the Twin Daggers, unknowingly the ones responsible for Misery's parents death. He quickly climbed the ladder within the nefarious organization and became one of the more profitable recruits for the guild. He was looked upon favorably as being a reliable contribution to their underhanded causes.

Then, he had learned the truth about his mother and father when one of the guildmasters spoke of local townsfolk refusing to make their 'protection payments.' He joked about the killing of the tiefling that ran an old leather shop so many years ago. Misery connected the dots and knew right away that it was this man who was responsible for the years of torment, punishment, and chiding that he had received as an outcast.

Misery snuck into the man's stateroom one dark night and executed him. He stood over the guildmaster's lifeless body and and just spat in his cold, dead face. Knowing that he would be tied to the murder, he fled Baldur's Gate. He had to find his freedom from the menace that would be stalking his every turn.

In character sample writing:
 


Posting Rate: Multiple times during workday(M-F); once to none on weekends
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Last edited by Shaede; 02-27-2019 at 02:12 PM.
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Old 02-28-2019, 03:51 AM
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Hellspawn Druid
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Character name: Pelaios

Character sheet: https://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=79566

Ability scores: Str Dex Con and Int: Low, Wis and Cha: Highish

Race and Class: Tiefling Druid (Circle of the Moon)

Gender: Male

Appearance: Pelaios's ancestry is written on every inch of his body with upswept horns and red skin he couldn't pass for anything besides a tiefling (unless someone would believe a satyr could get sunburn) but he is anything but atypical with everything besides. He lacks either the lithe grace or the bulging physique of most like him, being a bit on the skinny side with no chest or arms to speak of and narrow shoulders and waist. He laments not being able to grow facial hair but puts a lot of effort into his luxurious, long black hair: combing it with a bone comb of his own making it every day so it practically shines and keeping it interesting by putting small braids here and there throughout with a feather or bead knotted in. His clothes are simple leather and fur without so much a metal brooch in sight.

Alignment: Neutral Good

Background: Pelaios was born in a hamlet not so different to Womford, an inconvenient reminder of the "curse" that had sprung up here and there in his mother's family for generation after generation. His father, a simple farmer would shrug and say "at least we have our health" but he said a little too often and a little too vehemently (especially when in his cups) for that to be all he thought on the matter whilst his mother's love was tempered with half-remembered stories of evil great uncle Claudius and the like. It was this distant love and acceptance as well as the whispers and sideways looks from others in the village that made it all too easy for Pelaios upon reaching adulthood relinquishing his claim on the farm to his siblings, packing everything and setting out for the big city. There were tears of course, his family and friends loved him after-all but... everyone understood and even felt more comfortable (not that they'd admit it) with him out and on the road.

Pelaios had designs to hit the big city where he was told a man was measured on his merits and not on the horns on his head nor the red of his skin but he never made it to the big city nor does he have any desire to go there now he has found his true calling. About two days into his journey the young man cut through what he thought was a narrow strand of forest as an attempted shortcut and it only took a few hours before he was horribly lost; everyone sun dappled grove and game trail looked just like another. It was nearly too dark to keep moving when he came upon the standing stone circle in the largest grove to date. Part of his brain was saying that it's weird, why wasn't there so much as moss on these obviously centuries old stones, why was the grass within perfectly manicured, what happened to the wind that had been blowing through the trees moments before; the other part felt comfortable, content, tired. It wasn't long before he had rolled out his bedroll in the centre of the stones and had fallen asleep...

When Pelaios awoke it was from the best sleep he'd ever had, so good that he didn't even start when he saw a leather-clad, powerfully built female wood elf leaning on one of the stones and looking right at him. The weird thing was that she wasn't looking at him with fear or mockery: the two emotions he was used to seeing in strangers, it was just curiosity. Marsu (it turned out to be the name of the elf) didn't judge Pelaios for how he looked or for his obvious ancestry, she wasn't kind but she was the first stranger to treat the young man like a... a human in his short life and this immediately led to a boyish infatuation. It was this unrequited affection that caused him to desire to drop his dreams of the big city and want to join her druidic circle... prove to her his worth as a man and as a druid.

In character sample writing:
Pelaios's smile was one of self-mockery as he shook his head to clear the foolish memory of why he started this path for all the wrong reasons and focus on the path ahead of him. It had been several years since that fateful meeting with his now close friend Marsu that led him both literally and figuratively on this road. He was walking into the town of Womford for the seventh time in the last three years as this was the closest piece of civilisation to the area he guided for the circle (and a pie eating contest is the best thing known to man or beast). He returned to the real world just in time to not only recognise a gruff farmer he had helped locate his lost flock last year but also see the half wave and nod the man threw his way. "Morning Ceaster, Chauntea's blessing on your flock and your attempts at winning the contest tomorrow night" Pelaios says with a cheeky grin and a pat of his flat stomach.
The greybeard turns his head and spits before turning a sour look upon the young man "spit on that, I don't know if it was druid kenning or ye mumma's hellborn lover that allowed ye to place above me last year but it won't be so this time, I may not come first but I'll definitely be beating ye... also" the farmer nearly stumbles over words of gratitude "the missus said ye should come for tea and scones if I see ye... as thanks ye know"
"More like ye.. you're trying to fill me up before the big night but that'd be grand, make sure the tea is hot and the cream is cold and I'll be along."
After Pelaios and Ceaster part ways the young druid can't help but think "even the cruellest person back at the old village wouldn't have called my mother a lover of devils right to my face but for some reason when that grumpy old sod or one of others here in Womford says it it feels warm and welcoming compared to the old wide looks and snide stage whispers behind their hands..."

Last edited by Allu; 02-28-2019 at 05:28 PM.
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Old 02-28-2019, 11:02 AM
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Snap
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Name: Snap

Race and Class: Kenku Cleric of Ioun (Knowledge)

Gender: Male

Alignment: Neutral

Background: Guild artisan (cartographer)

Ability scores: Hi: WIS&INT, Mid: CHA&DEX, Lo: STR&CON


Appearance: Ofter seen wearing brown clothing, Snap tries to blend in the background, which is difficult for a short bird-person. His plumage is black with burgundy reflex, but he doesn't really tend to it, so it usually looks a bit scruffy. He can be often seen scribbling notes on little scrolls and putting them quickly in his cloak, and he almost constantly jerks his head left and right as if trying to take in every detail of his surroundings with his paranoid bird brain.

History: Like many Kenkus do when reaching a s certain age, Snap and a flock of other youngs left their families to find their place in life. After crossing a couple of towns were they did odd jobs (more or less legal), the flock found the captain of a ship in dire need of hands to sail the Night Queen through all of the coastal cities to the north and then all the way to the south. Everyone in the flock learned how to make himself useful in ship, that's how Snap discovered he had a talent for reading a drawing maps. After a couple of years the was a terrible storm that sank the boat. When Snap woke up he spent days crying and trembling feverish at the shore he woke up at, hoping that one of his childhood friends would wash up, but no one-did. Recognizing the coastal line he made an educated guess to which direction the closest town was. after a few starving days he reached it and began searching again for more survivors of the shipwreck, in vain.

At a tavern, he met a man, curious to see a sad bird-man getting drunk. The human was a priest of Ioun, the godess of knowledge and broken secrets, Melosh was his name. The priest recognized the spark of intelligence of someone who loves ink on paper, and feeling sympathetic towards Snap, decided to help him. He led him to a library he built in town, "Our Godess favourite temples", so that he could study the currents to understand where the others could have washed up. Together they travelled for months, asking around and doing more research, finding at best some debris that could have been from the Night Queen as easily as it couldn't.

In the meantime, Melosh was successful in his silent scheme of converting someone into his faith, making Snap officialy a priest of Ioun. "eheh, a white lie is different from a secret, 'young novice', some truths need to be revealed gradually to be best absorbed, and now look at yourself, a 'breaker of secrets' if I ever seen one!"While still saddened by the loss of his friends, Snap was estatic to have found a new love, a love that could hide in every piece of paper in the world, and that would call him from every scribbled word that ever rested, and would rest, on any surface.

In character sample writing: After taking note of the medical history of the horses, and how they were fed, Snap found that he took notes on everything he could enquiry about without someone breaking his neck and cooking him for dinner, so that weird feeling of 'anxiety of the unknown' calmed down a tad. With nothing else to do while reaching Womford, Snap looked up and noticed a flock of birds soaring over their cart. After suppressing for a second the need to track the direction they were headed in relation to the sun, he relaxed for a second. Watching birds fly always helped him meditate and focus, and that day his mind went to the conversation he had with his mentor few days before.

"You really think that's the most noble use of the Church's resources? Processing an eating contest?" the Kenku was using the voices of the biggest angriest men he met, to further emphatize his frustration. Melosh was still smiling. "My young friend, I told you many times: the price of knowledge can be found in the most unexpected places. Process the village and anyone involved in it. As an extra, Nightwood Food Foundation is ready to pay you" he paused for a second, "Ten gold coins, plus an extra domation to the church, for processing the recipe of the winner and sharing that information. As if an assignment at a food contest was such a horrible ordeal!"

A rumbling in his stomach brought him back to reality. ..yes good food is always nice.. but there's something fishy about this deal, and I'd better find out what..

Last edited by Ursinorum; 03-05-2019 at 10:28 AM.
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Old 02-28-2019, 12:54 PM
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Still waiting on the thread to be created so you all can roll ability scores. I'll post when I have it.
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Old 02-28-2019, 02:05 PM
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Posting Interest. I have an idea for a monk (maybe cleric multiclass) that could be a fun role-play!

Im gonna try to get an app up in the next few days for a monk 2 (going way of the drunken master when overall level is 4)/trickster cleric 1.
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Last edited by Tommyk382; 02-28-2019 at 03:29 PM.
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Old 02-28-2019, 02:28 PM
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Got a message from the moderators who say that the game won't be created until I have a list of players. My previous game didn't require that. However if you are itching to roll your ability scores you may do so in a private message to me. It's not necessary to roll ability scores unless you are chosen for the game, however. You could just list your ability scores the way you anticipate distributing them on your application in general terms such as: STR low, DEX high, CON moderate, etc. Choose a couple of low scores, a couple of high scores, and a couple of moderate scores.
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Last edited by fromthe1980s; 02-28-2019 at 02:29 PM.
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Old 02-28-2019, 06:02 PM
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If tomplum & Shaede are in, I’ll throw my hat in the ring.

Character applicationCharacter name: Elistar Felonbane
Character sheet: To come
Ability scores: High: DEX/CON Med: WIS/CHA LOW: INT/STR
Race and class: PM sent to DMTiefling HunterRanger
Level: 3
Gender: Male
Alignment: Edging on GoodCN
Appearance:
 

With understated features for a Tiefling, Elistar could possibly make his way among men with some effort. A hood to hide his horns, a cloak for his tail, and shadows for his skin tone, he might just pass. He chooses not to for simplicity. It benefits him from time to time. The tales others have told of his kind sometimes take the fight right out of his quarry.
Background: Urban Bounty Hunter

Elistar came up in the bowels of Baldur's Gate. His family lived in the slums, scraping by on what meager wages they could stitch together from odd jobs and cons. Abandoned by their father, their mother made things work as long as she could. After her death, it was all too easy for her children to fall in with the gangs that ran the streets. They seemed to offer protection and at least occasional subsistence. As the siblings scattered, Elistar followed his eldest brother, Sebastian, into a particular gang that looked to present themselves as more of a guild . Like a dark reflection of the justiciars that worked in the more legitimate venues, they were bounty hunters and trackers willing to take jobs on a more covert basis. Eventually, the upstart guild started stepping on too many toes and their entire leadership, including Sebastian, were taken out in a single night by a rival faction.

Elistar spent months tracking and infiltrating the other group. He eventually worked his way in and easily found that their braggadocios leader had been behind the plot. Hatching his own plan, Elistar was poised to strike, but as he broke through security an alarm went up. Abandoning stealth, he made his way into the guildleader's room where he found the dead man staring up at him with a spittle covered face. He cursed and fled the city.

In character sample writing: Elistar had been making good time by avoiding villages as he trod down the road and even caught sight of the man he knew to have stolen his kill from him. Just as he was about to make a final push to close the gap on him, a cart barrelled down the road past him. After diving into the brush along the side of the track, he climbed back to his feet just in time to see the cart stop for the man he was tracking. Muttering to himself, he kicked a clod of dirt and set his pace again.

It was past sunset when he strode into Wormford, but this felt like the type of place where the man would have settled for a moment. He sussed out the worst tavern around and pushed through the door. There, at a table, holding court among the riffraff was the man he sought. Elistar procured an ale and sat himself in a corner, where he waited until the man went to empty his bladder.

Obviously in his cups, the man presented no challenge to Elistar. As the man finished relieving himself, Elistar grabbed him by the collar and led him further into the shadows. "You took something from me." he said. "You took my chance to avenge my brother. I can never forgive that. But I also know that in the same act you were delivering vengeance for your own family, taken from you at a young age. For that, I can't hold this against you. So, it seems you've left me with quite a conundrum. How do I, a man who has lost his brother, act to the man who has stolen the only chance to redeem his loss? At the same time, how am I to treat a man who has lost his entire family?" Elistar pulled the young man into an embrace. "I do believe the only answer is to treat the man as a brother. Come now. You're far too young to be out here on your own, and far too drunk to be in the shadows."

Elistar took Misery back into the tavern, settled his tab, and put the man to bed.
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Last edited by Numen Wraith; 03-05-2019 at 02:40 PM.
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Old 02-28-2019, 06:32 PM
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Loki
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Character name: Loki Dankil
Character sheet: TBA
Ability scores:
High: Cha, Dex.
Med:Int, Con.
Low: Str Wis
Race and class: Dwarf, Bard
Level:3

Appearance:Loki is an average stocky dwarf who stands about 4ft. 3in. His hair is fiery red and his eyes are emerald green. His beard reaches to just above his chest and is well groomed. He wears light weight leather armor with symbols of Moradin adoring it. To his friends and allies he seems a smiling warm presence always happy to help keep them entertained with stories of Lore or a good song of battle.

Background:Growing up as one of three sons of a dwarven smith, Loki is something of a black-sheep of his family. His relation with his clan is a bit strained as he went against the norm and rather then taking up smiting or reverence to the forge god Moradin, he instead took up learning the ways of a skald. He took joy in learning of and telling tales of epic heroics and battles of his people and even outside the dwarven race. He would eventually leave home to travel to learn of and write new tales this time not of the past but of those that will be the heroes of the future (and maybe find away to put himself in those tales.)

Gender:Male

Alignment: Chaotic Good

In character sample writing:In Loki's travels he found himself at a tavern and making fast friends with a most interesting man. The man was an agent of a group called The Nightwood Food Foundation A foundation dedicated to procuring the finest of foods in the realm. Loki found himself taking up a job for the man, one that seemed like a very easy 25 gold. The job was simple. Head over to the Womford Pie Contest, enjoy the festivities, enjoy some good food, and then sweet talk the winner of the main event to hand over the recipe. What could go wrong?

While on the road he managed to come across others that seemed hired by the same organization, seems they were dead set on getting this winning pie. Still it meant he had comrades to entertain on the way two and from the contest. "So then laddies and lasses, there is still quite a while before we make it to the contest. How about a regale you all with a nice long story. Why this situation reminds me of the stores of Oskar the Hungry. Unlike our employer he'd go looking for food all on his own and would end up in the most peculiar situations. I know, how about the story of how the hunt for a rare stagg nearly landed him in an ogre's Stewpot..."

Last edited by Chaos Havik; 03-03-2019 at 03:09 AM.
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Old 03-01-2019, 01:15 AM
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Withdrawn. Thank you.



Completed Application (aside from working on touchups and typos)

Wip
Vladimir Purrtin * Character Sheet (WiP) * Str 14, Dex 14, Con 15, Int 9, Wis 15, Cha 17 (Before Racial Modifers)Ability Scores sent via PM

Male Tabaxi * ArchFey Warlock (Pact of the Chain) * LvL3* Chaotic Good


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As a young cub, I grew much more quickly then the others born in my litter. Out of seven brothers, only I shared the markings of our Warrior Father, our primitive Desert Lynx heritage solidifying in my structure and appearance. By my learning years, I could outrun, out maneuver and out smart any one of those in our Word for a Group of CatsGlaring. Ten fold. With my strong and heavy build, the growing muscle to aid my strength and prowess, little was I ever challenged in my Alpha role. Later in life, through harsh reality and cruel lessons, I lost my left eye in a battle of not strength, but skill of the mind which has left me with a constant reminder in the form of a long burn scar across the left side of my face, from my jaw to my ear. The patch made for me several years later, became a source of not only humbleness but Will use his eyepatch as his Arcane Focus if allowedraw arcane focus. (Race/Appearance)

Time has started to slow down for me, I approach forty years when the next new moon rises. My once vividly white fur, is beginning to dull, the contrast in my black markings, showing new gray growth. And though time catches up with us all, my renewed spirit motivates me to remain strong, even in the face of new challenges, even when my birthright had obliterated before my eyes...I resolved to stay true and honor my clan in whatever way I could, though I knew I would never again see myself as their leader. It took many years and many lessons to earn the weariness on my face, the ragged drawl in my voice and the many scars and burns on my body. (Appearance)

In my early adulthood, while trying to best a traveler at one of the major cities nearest my homelands, I made a mistake. The traveler had been drinking heavily all evening, my companions and I, long into our cups ourselves, had been conversing about him off and on, watching him and when we thought him to be completely drunk, I tried to take advantage of him on a game of dice. We were within the final round of it and I thought to have already had him by the skin of his teeth, so I made a ridiculous bet against his wager. I vividly recall exactly the conversation ..."I'll bet my left eye that you can't beat this last roll old man".... what a stupid, arrogant thing to say. When the roll best mine, I tried to double back on my wager, tried to claim it had been made only in jest, which only angered the traveler. When I then refused to honor the debt, he ran out of the tavern, my comrades and I, laughing all the while. It was later that night, the ArchFey came to collect the debt due. In the end, I still lost the left eye and quite a lot of ego. The only deal the mysterious Fey would accept was my servitude to her desires and whims, as odd as they are, as to this day I still do her bidding, unless I lose the other eye as well.
Needless to say... I still have my right eye. The pact had been made.(Backstory/Class)


If there's one thing that sticks in important life lessons, it's that water and all that encompasses the act of being in water or being wet, is not something I can easily tolerate. (Flaw-Phobia of being in water) And while I loathe and despise my general weakness for it, I will also vehemently deny that it exists and call out the fool that dares to say otherwise. (Flaw-Views weakness as a detriment to existence and will do whatever necessary to prove he has none)

As a roamer in the later years of my life, sleeping situations have rarely been reliable and often spontaneous in nature. All types of ill-intentioned foes have tried to spring upon me in the darkness of night. Thus, I tend to prefer tight, confined spaces, with little room or opportunity to be encroached upon without being alerted. (Trait: I like to sleep in the smallest space possible) Aside from the possible intruder, life for me has been spent in mostly solitude and wandering the last twenty years of my life, up until recently. And, up until recently...I realized how much I truly enjoyed my self-induced seclusion. (Trait: Awkward in social situations, from years of being alone.)


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"I told you Laddie..It was right at the fork in the road, left at the crooked tree, two hundred feet on the downtrodden path and then an immediate right! Now... we're lost in some backwoods town called Womford. Really Wooooomford? Do they even know how horrible the name sounds?Wooooom....fooooord. Pfft."The little Sprite familiar, in his usual eccentric displays, throws his arms dramatically over his head in faux frustration. Vladimir stops for the moment to turn his neck, now looking at the Sprite on his shoulder. "So says the Sprite named Bruce.. But you're not even that are you.. Bruce. You're just a spirit stuck in that body, making life hell for me. So pipe down and let me think." His long tail sways with his annoyance at his companion, quickly swiping at the tiny familiar with a flick. Bruce tumbles down the Tabaxi's leather and worn, tattered fabric of his outer garments, finally clinging successfully at his rope belt."Eeeeeack! Uncalled for! Didn't your mother ever tell you if you play with that thing too much you'll go blind!" Bruce grumbles and scowls as he flutters back up to Vladimir's shoulder, his usual perch. Vladimir once again turns to face his rude and annoying, permanent, companion. He lifts the eyepatch that covers his left socket, a dark hole never sewn or healed properly, though has long since been left empty. "Too late."





Last edited by MeredithS; 03-06-2019 at 08:42 PM.
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Old 03-01-2019, 08:33 AM
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Last edited by Vathe; 03-03-2019 at 08:08 AM. Reason: I've removed Gundak as I feel he will take some time to better capture in my mind before being able to properly write him.
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