RP Sample:
Morrigan drank deeply from her cup, feeling the liquid warm her belly as it spread throughout her body, her throat burning. She set it down gently, smiling brightly as she looked across the table at which she sat, where a mustached man with a look of fury etched on his face sat quietly. His two bodyguards flanked him on either side, a dwarf and a half-elf, both watching the scene with a quiet aplomb. The man fumed silently, his eyes fixed upon the dice scattered across the table, cursing quietly beneath his breath.
"Well, Po," Morrigan began, her speech slurred somewhat, her hand gesturing lazily at the man. "Looks like a full-house in my favour...whaddya say we square up, now, hm?" She resumes drinking from the cup, as the man finally decides to speak audibly.
"Yer cheatin'." The man growls, his hands on the table curling into fists.
Morrigan quirks her eyebrow, letting out a short burst of intoxicated laughter. "Cheat? Me? Poor human, your senses aren't THAT dull, 're they? These're hardly times to be levellin' accus-...acc...alleg-...I'm not cheating." She opts for the simpler phrasing, draining the cup completely, losing her grip and allowing it to clatter to the floor. One of the serving girls moves forward to pick it up from the ground, giving Morrigan a harsh look. "Sorry, Ma'am, 'twas an accident, promise." The Eladrin speaks, smiling. The serving girl quickly turns her attention elsewhere, Morrigan letting out a sigh as she follows her with her eyes.
"Listen here, you pointy-eared, weak-livered waste of space," the man sending a shower of saliva flying for every plosive he uttered, "Yer a joke, and I'm takin' my money back, and you can't stop me!" With that, the man reached out and grasped a handful of the coins on the table, suddenly finding his wrist being gripped tightly by Morrigan's gloved hand. With her free hand, she wipes the man's spittle from her face, her expression having shifted from 'jovial' to 'borderline murderous'. Po's bodyguards leap to their feet, the dwarf drawing a hand-axe, and the half-elf a short-sword.
"Little quickling", she spoke with as much malice as she could muster in spite of her drunken state, "I can damn well stop anyone in this room. Am I goin' to have to settle this outside?"
The room felt dead quiet all of a sudden. The barkeep watched on with a paled expression, and the rest of the patrons seemed caught somewhere between concerned and intrigued with what was about to happen. Po's guards watched anxiously, watching their employer for a reaction, or an order. Po, however, continued fuming silently. A few tense moments passed, before finally, Po relaxed his fingers, letting the coins fall back into the pile. Morrigan smiled, releasing her own grip, allowing Po to withdraw his hand. Swiftly, Morrigan moves the pile of coins over to her side of the table, before motioning to the barkeep.
"Barkeep? Can we get another round, on me? To celebrate our friendly game-" Morrigan was cut short by Po hurling a vulgar word, as well as his bottle of liquor squarely at her face. Deftly, her left hand is raised, a shield forming from her mind, against which the glass shatters. The glass & contents spill onto the table to begin dripping onto the floor, and in a flurry of motion Morrigan is on her feet, a dagger flashing in her right hand. Leaping back behind her chair, Morrigan sends the seat careening into the half-elf with her foot, knocking him to the floor. Nearly simultaneously, she throws her dagger, striking the dwarf in his knee, causing him to drop his weapon and howl in pain as he stumbles to the ground. Patrons are yelling, the barkeep seems on the verge of passing out, and Morrigan suddenly feels alive with the energy of combat.
Po draws his blade, attempting to advance around the table, but the Eladrin suddenly flips the table towards him, coins and shattered glass cascading to the floor. He stays on his feet and shields his face from the glass, and as the table clatters to the floor, he turns to face Morrigan again, who is now conspicuously absent. Suddenly, pain burns across his back, the woman appearing behind him after fey-stepping. Staggering forward, Po spins about to try and strike at her, as she nimbly slashes a deep cut across his face with her rapier. Yelping in pain, he attempts to steady himself, before a kick into his chest sends him to the floor, near the door of the tavern. The man begins to crawl towards the entrance on hands and knees, trying to climb to his feet.
Morrigan's pursuit is swift, but she takes her time to direct a strike from the haft of her blade to the temple of the recovering half-elf, dropping him unconscious to the bar floor to marinate in a pool of alcohol. Grabbing Po by the shoulder, she spins him around to lie upon his back on the wooden floor, aiming the tip of the blade at the prone man's throat.
"If there's one thing I abs'lutely can't tolerate, Po..." she pauses to hiccup before continuing, "it's a man who wastes liquor." Po opens his mouth to speak, but before he can get a word out she drops to her knees, laying her blade to the ground at her side. With an angry blow, she slams Po's skull against the hardwood floor, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he slips into unconsciousness. Taking a moment to procure Po's coinpurse from his belt, "much lighter than when the night started!", she muses, she stands and turns to face the barkeep from across the room.
"My apologies that these men couldn't hold their temper, sir! Consider the coins on the floor as payment of my tab. And, uh, for the chair and table as well!" The barkeeper nods sharply a few times, his eyes wide. She glances at the dwarf, still doubled over in pain clutching his leg. Shrugging, she tucks the coinpurse into her belt, moving to exit the bar, grabbing her rapier off the ground to sheathe it as she slams the door shut behind her.
She laughs to herself as she wanders down the street, a few passers by giving her strange looks, her shuddering laughs seem to wrack her entire body. By the end of it, she's gasping for air, holding her sides. "Aaah, okay! I'll consider m'self un'ficially banned from that bar." she proclaims to nobody in particular as she staggers off to find somewhere to sleep off her impending hangover.
Possible Connections: ((I'll be doing these as minor stories/paragraphs for characters Morrigan would have a proper connection to, and simple quotes/opinions she holds on people she's less likely to hold as 'friends'. Morrigan is an unhappy and cruel woman, and her words are purely her perspective on the characters 'at first glance', not my personal thoughts on how you've created them.))
Emmet of the Bear & Aukan Thalimaka: Morrigan met the two barbarians when they entered 'her' tavern for a drink, the two apparently having just finished a sparring session, the woman immediately intensely jealous of their camaraderie and the fact there had been a good fight that didn't involve her. Making some very blithe and assuming statements about the two and their sexualities, Morrigan soon found herself embroiled in a tavern fight that was the talk of the town for a few nights, one that certainly improved her mood. A night in the prison for being 'drunk and disorderly' and a few bruises is a fair price to pay for feeling alive again, she figures. She considers the two 'worthy' opponents at the very least, and admires both their ferocity and their power. She also thinks they make an adorable couple, and thinks that's worth mentioning. Constantly.
Jarret Mils, "Oathbreaker":"Fight me, prettyboy!"
Yang:"Has a nice right hook. But all in all, he's fair blood polluted by the dirt of humans - like that awful thing growing on his face. What a shame."
Isaac Bren:"Get out of my face, priss."
Daniel Hoffman:"Hahaha! That's adorable, really! Hah! ...can you steal a bottle for me, small one?"
Cinna Montreal: Morrigan sees Cinna as two things; incredibly naive, and incredibly weak. As Morrigan has a fondness for the weak, even against her own will, she feels compelled to make sure she has someone to run to if she ever needs it. As Aukan considers himself her guardian, she's content to let the towering Goliath take full precedence in keeping the brat out of harm's way. "Stay out of my head, princess, you won't like it there."
Jet: Unadulterated hatred and contempt - she has little patience for his kind and even less for him. His suggestion she needs protection is akin to a challenge to duel to the death, and she reacts violently to him whenever they cross paths. In addition, he has the audacity to refer to her as a 'woman of the empire', an empire she'd gladly see burnt to a cinder. There is no friendliness in this rivalry, and given the chance, she would show him just how wrong he was. "The only thing I'll ever let you do for me is become a very temporary sheathe for my blade! I do NOT need your protection, mutt!"
Ragnar Snow: Morrigan has a very dismissive view of Shifters. "Go bark up a tree, mutt."
Hadrim Kordhammer: "He looks tough enough, and I think his gear weighs more than my tab at - he's a she? Oh. Hm. That's slightly more impressive, then."
Erethil: Morrigan sees elves as leaps and bounds above humans and their mixed bloods, but is disappointed when they choose to engage from range rather than melee - still, she'd rather have an elven sharpshooter at her back than a human fighter alongside her, and his gruff nature is remarkably appealing to her.
Oloros Shieldheart: She admires the old man's resilience in his age, but would consider him a liability more than anything. Still, he reminds her vaguely of her father - a fact that concerns her as she's roughly the same age as him yet not looking anywhere near as worse for wear.
Patrin Peaceblade;"Peaceblade is a silly name. You're a silly lizard. This is silly."
Rahne of the En Sabah Nur: This incredibly odd dragonborn fascinates Morrigan, and her shy behavior lends the woman to ensure the little lizard's survival - the dresses she wears make her look less than apt for combat, and yet the dragonborn's stubborn nature means she has a fire in her belly [perhaps literally] that Morrigan finds amusing.
Tamos: "More stray animals...get!"
Vimak: "He's...really enthusiastic about breaking things. It's good to have goals, I say, and he's clear on his. Y'know. Breaking people's faces. I can get behind that."
Jonathon Tarot: Morrigan would certainly be happy to find another practitioner of the arcane, even in one as self-obsessed as Jon seems to be. She needs an intellectual equal to chat with, and Jon - well, he'll do, she guesses. "Your name is dumb as hell, but you've got a head for magic, so here's a drink. Now occupy my brain for the next hour before I kill someone out of boredom. You don't drink? Fine, I can drink for two."
Eberek:"Infusions are the stupidest form of magic I've ever heard of."
Roma, Storyteller of the Folk: Morrigan loves a good story almost as much as a good fight, and Roma has a way with words - and coin, as it so happens. His suggestion for a dueling contest with the two acting as ringers seemed perfect, though the woman occasionally would take her fights a little too far. Still, she appreciates the creature for what he's worth and strangely enjoys his company. Then again, she'd enjoy anyone's company if they could feed her habits.
Davtiln Carter: "More good blood mixed with the bad, and more of this nonsense about 'infusions'. How about you mix a damn drink instead of a 'salve', little man?"
Lirianna: Morrigan begrudgingly respects this woman, the two being outcasts of their respective peoples, but a massive competitive spirit overwhelms the Eladrin's desire to make a friend with someone who might understand her inner workings - that, and she's utterly terrified of someone understanding her inner workings. Quick to poke fun at the Genasi, she still 'likes' her as best she can like another person, though their arguments end in fights faster than they end in laughter. "I have to respect someone who can have a conversation, drink and fight while their head is on fire."
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Last edited by Darkling; Jun 2nd, 2012 at 10:23 PM.
Aukan never lived amongst goliaths for long. When the majority of his tribe were killed in a giant raid, his tent mother, Paavu managed to escape with him to a nearby (mostly) human town, where he spent the majority of his youth. He and his mother were never really accepted, despite the honest labour he and his mother provided for the nearby farms. His mother had clung to her traditions, wishing one day to rejoin a tribe and live as she had. It wasn't a realistic dream to Aukan. Paavu was getting on in years and soon, slowing down. The tribe would have left her behind, and for all her great stories about life in the tribe, Aukan thought such an action abhorrent. Perhaps he had formed a greater bond to his 'mother' than other goliath, but he didn't want part of a community that would leave the old behind. Now he didn't consider his town the pinnacle of civilisation by any means, but at least here survival was not so slight a thing that old women were left to fend for themselves or more likely, die.
Her dream however never came to pass, she died one day, leaving Aukan with no real reason to stay in this village. Burying her, he spoke the words of a burial prayer to Kuliak that she'd adamantly insisted he learn, for this very moment. He had no problem with the prayer, and whilst he had honestly liked Paavu, considered her a good woman; he didn't agree with the way she had clung to her roots.
He returned to the fields for some time, thinking on her predicament for weeks until he realised that this, like his mother, was no place for him. He yearned to be respected for his ability, not tiptoed around for his birth. He yearned for actual friends, to interact with people. A man of some strength, he ended up joining the always-recruiting army, and recieved all the training necessary to die for some noble's petty struggle.
So he fought for people he didn't know, for reasons he didn't care about. For a number of years, he continued to soldier in the Empire's clanking war machine. The pay was decent, the work tolerable, but most importantly to Aukan, he had people to call his friends; glad for him to be at their back, regardless of who he was. He had something approaching a dysfunctional tribe, satisfying his urge to understand Paavu's yearning. Whilst he didn't see it as perfect as Paavu had, he could have grown to like it.
However, the army of the empire is riddled with bureaucracy and Aukan never advanced in position, even as he saw new commanders come and go. One such commander was Jal'en, the foppish son of some noble lord. With no clue how to direct the people he commanded on birth, Jal'en ended up getting the almost the entire unit killed fighting orcs; a commission that was supposed to be simple but turned into a nightmare. Seeing all his comrades die for nothing, his 'tribe' killed, Aukan flew into a rage, releasing a fury he had never realised he held in check. He struck Jal'en down for his mistake. Fully expecting to be put to death for his crime, Aukan was suprised when Jal'en's family, who were apparently quite rich, freed him and wanted to pay him to keep quiet about the massacre; he would be discharged regardless. It seemed Jal'en was a late son, heir to nothing and they wanted him to keep quiet lest his corpse dishonour their family. Aukan didn't accept the money, and the noble family seemed not to care about his loss.
Discharged, Aukan didn't really have anywhere to go. He'd heard of the tales of the New World, how a new life was possible. With his mind set on the New World, Aukan scraped together his money, needing one last job before he could pay for passage.
Appearance:
Aukan is far taller than most humans, glaring with strangely glowing green eyes over the general populace of the empire, at the height of 7'8". With has a number of smaller scars littering his patterned skin, byproducts of combat wearing almost no armor, a personal decision that his late friends used to laugh at. He keeps his skin displayed, a tradition he does continue, courtesy of Paavu. His harness usually carries a greatsword, often slightly larger to suit his build. Aukan has a number of piercings down his right arm, shunning the tattoos that soldiers tend to get; his disgust for tattoos was instantly made clear when asked. His comrades weren't really sure how piercings were any different, but they put it down to his strange culture.
Personality:
Aukan is generally reserved, attempting to keep his emotions self contained, often unable to express them properly. A drinker, Aukan will usually only start a conversation whilst suitably inebriated, and generally the conversation will lead to a fight, a side effect of his surliness. He generally doesn't care to interact with people unless he has to; but values a real friendship, though he is hesitant to form them. Once he considers someone a friend, he opens up somewhat, joking and openly competing with them about the smallest issue.
Though he doesn't understand his wish for a tribe, he can form something of an artificial tribe with people he considers friends and trusts. These bonds take some time and hardship to make, only ever happening with his late army unit. He considers his 'tribe' of paramount importance, defending its members at the slightest provocation. He believes this is where his rage first formed, and is worried that it might manifest itself again, but with worse results, leading him more recently to keep people at arms length.
His time in the army has left him indifferent to violence and killing, and recently he has been worried by the rage inside him, turning to drink as a way to cope, however ineffective. He loves fighting; he sees it as the pinnacle of competition. Races and climbing might be fun, but fights are exhilarating. Whether a bar fight, protecting a charge or attempting to break a line, Aukan revels in combat. Despite his fierce love for competition, he doesn't hold a grudge, and doesn't take losing badly; seeing it as a point on which to improve himself. An exception is his lingering distaste for the nobility based on his past. He'll work for them, he just doesn't have to like them. Its okay though, the nobility don't call him friend either.
His tent mother's strange fixation with Kuliak had rubbed off on him, leaving him a bit mystified by the clergy, who revere gods he has never known, and will likely never call his own. He isn't particularly religious, and will only offer tribute to Kuliak when one of his 'tribe' dies.
A little wary of humans in general, he generally gravitates towards those of mixed breed, or nonhumans entirely, finding them to be more approachable.
Connections:
WIP
Cinna Montreal: Aukan was hired by the Montreals to guard their daughter, Cinna. Aukan wouldn't have accepted, based on his interactions with nobles in the past, but Cinna was so different he almost instantly accepted; wanting to prevent any harm to someone who was genuinely good, a rare commodity in such a world. Aukan refuses to let harm come to Cinna, even if she doesn't want a goliath following her around everywhere.
Emmet of the Bear: Aukan uncharacteristically stuck up a conversation with Emmet, intrigued after seeing him standing so straight with his axe, despite his feral demeanour and appearance. After but a few words, they agreed to spar; both relishing in combat. After a few rounds of combat, both of them bloodied, they decided to return to town for a friendly drink.
Morrigan The Blade: Aukan had just started drinking with his new acquaintance, Emmet, when some intoxicated Eladrin stared at them a moment, and implied strange things about his choice in sexual partner, completely deadpan. Now whilst Aukan didn't actually take offense, he noted the woman's rapier and gear, and along with her experienced stance, even if she was deep in her cups. Never one to back down from a challenge, however imagined, he feigned offense (badly) and instigated a fight. Needless to say, soon the kerfuffle had spread to the entire tavern, who had ended up brawling for some reason or another. Though the authorities may not have agreed, leading Aukan away grinning, if smarting. He was pretty sure everyone had had a good time. He had, at least.
Rahne of the En Sabah Nur Clan: Aukan met Rahne through Cinna, as the two women quickly became friends after meeting. However, Rahne seems shy and fearful of Aukan, though he feels he's hasn't done anything to warrant this. On the other hand, he himself is suitably wary of Rahne's powerful family, despite considering Rahne perfectly affable.
Roma, Storyteller of the Folk: Back on the Old World, Aukan received an invitation to the new world as a strong man. Though he wanted to accept, his upbringing wouldn't let him; he saw travelling performances as strange and alien. He declined, but remembered the kind gesture. Once he finally reached the New World, he sought out Roma, to give his thanks, and to apologise for not accepting. He had never seen Roma's kind before, and wished to learn more, but Roma's strange ways make it hard for Aukan to decipher what is truth and what is jest, or even lies.
Jet: Aukan was approached by Jet, regarded by Aukan as a rather enthusiastic and somewhat idealistic shifter after a day's work on a farm. Despite their differences in outlook, they ended up going to a tavern. Unfortunately, it was his first time drinking, (unlike Aukan, a committed alcoholic) and Jet might have gone a little crazy.
Strawberries, I just PMed you about the Genasi thing. Let me know what you think.
elementalist and nebelun, thanks for updating your apps to make the connection. Looks good. Could be really interesting!
Darkling, great app! Wonderfully written, as always.
grav, good background. I like it! Just be careful that that bloody tiefling doesn't get his hands on the skeleton in your closet, or he'll blackmail you real quick.
Speaking of whom, thanks for updating your app, sammichweasel!
This is my first Play by Post campaign that I have ever played - even through I do know how they work. Even through this is a late submission, and it may be pretty brief, I really hope that I get accepted into this PbP campaign.
Name: Davtiln Carter Race: Half-Elf Class: Artificer Role: Leader Alignment: Neutral Good Deity: Moradin
Davtlin is a young adult half-elf, roughly 25 years. He has short black hair, some stubble around his chin, and is 5'9''. He is pretty sturdily built for a half-elf. He almost always has a very worried/nervous look on his face - through sometimes you see him smile. He usually wears leather armor in the colors of the Carter house, with the family crest embossed on front.
Davtlin is shy and often feels rushed. If he has a task to do, he will follow it without complaint, though he rushes and never talks when doing so. When he does not have a job to do, he can talk sometimes, through he prefers people that he/his family knows. He has a tendency to grab eveything (and a little more) that he needs for a certain task at hand.
Davtlin is one of the heirs of the Carter House in the Erathic Empire. Consisting mostly of humans and elfs, the house specializes in weapon and magical item crafting. Worshiping Moradin, the house is good friends with the Kordhammer and Shieldheart houses, and they are the primary suppliers for the Carter crafts.
His grandfather, a artificer elf named Aelar Carter, taught him the way around 11 years of age. When he grew up, he started doing small delivery jobs, supervised by his parents, Chaedi and Wil Carter, to shops around the Empire.
At 25, his first real test of independence came.
(from his journal - this is his RP blurb)
A parcel - a small parcel. Chaedi talked about it. It was a valuable necklace. - but she did not say what exactly it is. Where was I going to deliver it? Port Calia in the New World. I've been there before - always remember Oloros the short guy, Kordhammer the brash but lovable blonde dwarf... Memories.
Then came the kicker - I was going to do this without any help at all. Feeling more and more worried the minute, I reluctantly accepted, knowing that delivering this means that I'll be a real man.
(after making the delivery)
I've done it - not a nick on the necklace. Feeling satisfied with myself, I go and wait for the next ship back to my home. Thinking about personal things, I suddenly hear a loud female voice.
"Hey! Carter! Want to show ya' might?"
I recognized that voice - it was Hadrim. I met her when I was around 12 for the first time. She seems oddly attractive despite her bash attitude.
"Hey!"
I realize that I should go and talk to her, even through I don't usually feel like talking to anyone.
I come over and talk to her. She wants me to show my fighting skills. I am not confident about them, but she keeps insisting to do a friendly duel. I bring out my grandfather's old mace and lunged at her. For whatever reason, my hand traced a pattern when lunging
Without realizing it, the blow that I did ended up freezing her in place. I felt my mace - it felt very cold to touch. Odd - my father taught me how to enchant freezing weapons temporally, but that activated it without me knowing it. Suddenly, Hadrim speaks up again:
"You have really improved as a artificer. You should really go and help people in need with your powers. Good duel, through."
I earned her full respect. As the ship was ready, I said hurried goodbyes to her and boarded.
Going back home, I think about what I just did. I try attempting to make the weapon cold again - which did not work. Odd - I keep this in the back of my head as the ship goes back to the home port.
I feel like I'll be there again - and if I do, maybe go and talk to Hadrim again.
Rhett: Occasionally hired as a temporary bodyguard by Davtiln - Davtiln does seem a little suspicious of him, however.
Yang: May have passed by a few times.
Issac: Have chatted a few times during delivery.
Daniel: Once attempted to pickpocket Davtiln - got maced and Davtiln got his stuff back.
Cinna: Family friend, chatted very often. Will be willing to work together.
Hadrim: Davtiln's best friend. Would love to meet her again.
Emmet: Is sought by the Carters because he is presumed missing in the New World. Davtiln's secondary objective is to report back about what happened to Emmet back to the Carters.
Kildrak: Known by Davtiln's parents, is possibly suspicious.
Rahne: Davtiln made deliveries to her the clan often - the Carters know them pretty well.
Jonathan: Davtiln is suspicious about this person as he reportedly charmed several of the Carters and associates in order to get discounted goods.
Roma: Doesn't really know her very well, but has requested goods for fortune telling. Davtiln told her that he is not a merchant, and does not happen to carry divination potions, through he said that he may prepare for a few, just for her.
Morrigan: Doesn't know her, but from first impressions, doesn't want to.
Liriana: Doesn't know her, but is really tempted to talk to her. He does not know what to say to her...
====== Created Using Wizards of the Coast D&D Character Builder ======
Davtiln Carter, level 1
Half-Elf, Artificer
Build: Battlesmith Artificer
Half-Elf Power Selection Option: Knack for Success
Half-Elf - Cultural Half-Elf (+2 to History)
Theme: Noble
FINAL ABILITY SCORES
STR 10, CON 16, DEX 10, INT 18, WIS 13, CHA 8
STARTING ABILITY SCORES
STR 10, CON 14, DEX 10, INT 18, WIS 11, CHA 8
Thanks to hyenaofleisure and sammichweasel for working my character (Erethil, ranger) into their possible connection bits. I fully endorse your connection descriptions. Though sammich, I gotta say, Erethil may be a nice guy, but he doesn't take kindly to being stiffed when it's time to pay for his services!
As a general point, my character is likely to be extremely interested in any individuals who are either a part of one of the shifter clans, or works directly with them. His main goal at this point is to learn from the shifters and further his primal connection with the natural world. If this sounds like an interesting angle for a connection, please feel free to PM me. I might still newbie impaired PM-wise, but I'll go take care of that if I have to in order to respond!
c12sprint, I can see Erethil and Tamos striking up quite the friendship for these reasons. Erethil is a fairly feral imperial, while Tamos seems like a fairly civilized clansman. And on top of that, the similarities of their fighting styles--ranged, complemented by primal abilities--would make them an interesting pair.
-B
I'm happy to work with everyone. ^_^ And I'm kinda surprised that Cinna and Jet are the two star's of the show as it were for my apps. I'm looking forward to playing any of em, but still, those two will both have some really unique experiences I think, gosh, I'm starting to know how the DM's must feel. >_<