[D&D-5e] Dungeons of Drakkenheim

[Drinkslotsa]

Withdrawn

[Eleishar]

Well, I love Dungeon Dudes
That should answer for a few questions about a player
Don't worry, I didn't watch Dungeons of Drakkenheim, for some reasons watching other people play does not work for me.
So count me as interested
I mostly play martials, so for a change I plan to go Warlock, and no, I don't plan to go Hexblade. Will someone try to guess what patron? Just out of curiosity.

[Nyx89]

I'm really interested in this setting so I will give an app a shot.

Character Name: Aurelia Valdemar Race: High Elf Class: Ranger - Horizon Walker Alignment: Lawful Neutral Personality Traits: -No one could doubt by looking at my regal bearing that I am a cut above the unwashed masses. -I take great pains to always look my best and follow the latest fashions. Ideal/Bond/Flaw: Ideal: Responsibility. It is my duty to respect the authority of those above me, just as those below me must respect mine. (Lawful) Bond: Nothing is more important than the other members of my family. Flaw: In fact, the world does revolve around me. Appearance: Aurelia is short for a high elven woman, standing at a petite 5'3''. She keeps her long dark hair braided. Her eyes are a striking greenish-blue. Ever since retiring to the wilds with her family after the destruction of Drakkenheim, she has taken to wearing clothes in natural colors of blue and green, but even though she is no longer living life at court, she still takes great pains to present herself well and wear fashionable, well-tailored cuts and materials in her apparel, though obviously such finery is much harder to come by these days. Personality: Aurelia Valdemar is the first daughter of one of Drakkenheim's noble houses. She is old enough to remember what life was like before the cataclysm. Her personality still reflects that of a cultured noble used to respect and admiration from the common folk. Despite the downfall of her nation and the utter chaos of the world she now finds herself in, Aurelia still clings to proper etiquette and decorum; even in the midst of the apocalypse, retaining her noble bearing helps her to feel in control of the situation. While outwardly poised and reserved (a noble lady should never make a scene or fall to pieces), inwardly Aurelia is a very passionate person and cares deeply for those she loves, especially her sister Violet. History: At age 95, Aurelia is barely more than a teenager, although her younger sister Violet, at age 78, is smack dab in the middle of her rebellious teenager phase. That is why Violet Valdemar had the grand idea of joining the Followers of the Falling Fire, despite Aurelia's many protestations. In fact the two sisters got into a huge, explosive fight right before Violet disappeared to join the Followers. Now Aurelia is determined to save her sister from herself and has followed her to the ruins of Drakkenheim before Violet gets herself killed or even worse, falls further into the depths of zealotry and mania. RP Sample:   "You are being utterly ridiculous right now," Aurelia scolded her younger sister. Violet Valdemar stood with her arms crossed and a pout on her face. "I'm of age and can make my own choices," Violet retorted. Aurelia merely scoffed. Violet was little more than a teenager by elven biology. Her brain was hardly developed enough to be making rational decisions, which must be why Violet had fallen in with the Followers of the Falling Fire. Aurelia knew the Followers to be little more than a fanatical cult, and the leader, Lucretia Mathias, was a charlatan and a fool. Why couldn't her baby sister see that she had been hoodwinked into giving up her life to go follow a lunatic into the dangerous ruins of Drakkenheim? "Fine but don't come crying to me or mother when you get yourself torn to pieces by the monsters infesting the city," replied Aurelia in her haughtiest voice. Violet just glared at her and stomped out of the room. Aurelia didn't actually expect her to leave. There was no way her baby sister would actually have the guts to go through with this plan. If she did, Aurelia was determined to drag the younger woman back by her pointed ears if that was what it took. Family Matter. One of my family members or close friends has become mixed up with one of the factions. Perhaps they have foolishly decided to join the organization. Alternatively, they’ve been taken prisoner by the faction due to some trespass or misunderstanding. Either way, my personal quest is to bring them back home.

Player What do you like to see in a PBP game?: Collaborative storytelling, a lot of engagement between characters and also lots of interactions between characters and NPCs. What do you not like to see in a PBP game?: When no one decides to act so the game gets bogged down and can even die out. What piqued your interest in applying for this game?: Definitely the setting. What do you want to get out of this game? Be selfish - what is in it for YOU?: A chance to play around in the interesting world, get to know the NPCs, and tell a fun story with others. What is your expected posting rate?: 2-3 posts per week

[Arkanis]

I knew when I first came to Drakkenheim that I would not escape the city unmarked or unscathed, as I also realise that the chances of me coming out of the city with my life intact are minimal. I know this and I accept this, because my need is great. You see, I am cursed too, and I cannot leave here until I find the missing part of my soul.

Daesalor Fustron Race: Human Class: Bard Alignment: Chaotic Good Personality Trait: I have a quick and easy nature that puts others at ease, however most of this is an act designed to keep the truth from people. Personality Trait: I like to sing, and my singing brings comfort to others. Ideal: Through my voice, the lost will find their way home. Bond: I must find my missing sister, she will reunite the missing part of me. Flaw: I am frightened of my missing past, even as I am compelled to seek it out.

Appearance An impeccably dressed gentleman comes to stand before you. Light brown hair with a parting slightly off left frame the face of a man who’s easy smile doesn’t quite touch his eyes. Indeed, everything about the gentleman screams practiced refinement, from his pose to his graceful bow, a bow in which he doffs his head with the slightest hint of theatrics. From his finely stitched clothes to the lute strung over his back, to the perfectly trimmed beard that lines his chin, there is a word that applies to Daesalor, a word that is integral to the very core of his being. Manufactured. And yes, it is indeed when one takes a closer look at the travelling minstrel standing before them that the carefully constructed, yet still illusory facade begins to dissipate. From the twin pools of shadow that lie beneath his troubled eyes, to the too-perfect smile that, although carefully manufactured doesn’t quite reach them either, to the charismatic singer who seems to shrink inside of himself when he thinks nobody is looking…..there are a number of things that don’t quite add up about him. All of this makes the strangely enigmatic bard a mass of contradictions and a puzzle wrapped up in the finest of cloth. Only Daesalor truly knows what drives Daesalor, and there are reasons for that….

Personality At the core of the bard Daesalor Fustron, the thing that drives him is also the thing that has forever marked him as outcast to everyone else. It is his darkest secret, and the one that he clutches to him with the knowledge that here, in this place, in this world where the gods lie forever silent, would mark him for death if anyone were to realise the full truth of who he was. Daesalor has the ability to see the souls of the lost, wandering spirits who have not been able to find their way to the world beyond. It is something that has marked him as different and a life of loneliness. This strange individual, always more at comfort amongst the dead than the living, was struck by their loneliness, confusion and loss. From a young age, Daesalor has always reached out to these lost souls through the sound of his own singing and his music, and to his surprise, he found that the souls in turn could find a connection to his music, perhaps finding some amount of solace and comfort before fading away forever to the netherworld. Whether or not his music truly has an effect on them at all is a matter for debate, but it is something that Daesalor has come to believe himself, and it is something that gives the disaffected bard some reason to continue moving forwards. Perhaps in this way, it is the belief that is fundamentally more important than the truth even as there is a certain amount of irony to the realisation that this so-called Shepherd of the Lost (in his own eyes at least) is just as lost as the souls he wishes to bring comfort to. And yes, it is this secret that is his most jealously guarded possession. It is a secret he will quite literally die for rather than give up. It is the only thing in this world that marks him as (in his own eyes at least) worthwhile. It is not, however, the proverbial shadow that lies on his heart and soul. There was another, once, who knew his secret. His closest companion and the other side of his soul, his twin sister, Elandria. She is lost to him now, through his own mistakes, and it is the reason he has come to Drakkenheim. He must find his lost sister, and if she is beyond redemption then he must also guide her soul to the netherworld.

History There was a time before the lost souls. There was a time before the wandering minstrel, travelling the realm for his own private reasons. The problem is, Daesalor himself cannot remember much of it, and that is something that. Ishtar we’ll be intentional. It is entirely possible that Daesalor has blocked out the worst of his own past that he no longer wishes to remember because it will destroy him. He does remember Ella though. He remembers his missing sister as one would miss a piece of their own heart and soul striped from them to make them less than whole. That they were close, once inseparable even, is beyond doubt. That something terrible happened, something that drove a wedge between brother and sister and shattered an oath that they once made with each other, is also certain. And there are times that Daesalor remembers fragments of this murky past, slight snippets that curl amidst the edges of his consciousness. What he sees is troubling, because it tells him there are demons in his past and mistakes he has made to break that which was once unbreakable. Do you remember sister? Do you remember the oath we made to each other, so long ago now. We pledged to protect each other, no matter what happened. That whatever the world did to us, we would stay strong for each other and we would keep this dark land out, both from each other and our hearts and souls. We were to be inseparable. Ours was something that transcended mortal boundaries and would encase each other in our minds and our hearts. I still love you....I always have done....I always will do. I would never hurt you The images flicker painfully though as the pieces of the past come together in a painful amalgamation. They tell him that in some way it was his lost sister that granted him his ability to see lost souls. I know what your life must have been like. I understand it must have been terrible. We were never meant to be separated sister. The gods, and the fates, they had always meant for us to be together. That was the point. That was why I held part of your power inside of me. That was why I held part of you inside of me. Two souls never meant to be torn. Yet, despite the best intentions. Despite what I hold, despite my heart, it wasn't enough. Because in the end, the pledge....the oath, it was cast aside.... I didn't want this. The sound of screaming…. I love you too sister. Although my cursed body betrays me. Although it betrays me to speak words I cannot ever take back. Even as the blade tears everything that I am from my chest, know that I still love you, and I always will. The truth will be found in Drakkenheim. It is hard to say just how Daesalor knows this, but he does know it with a deep, unsettling certainty. For better or worse, the truth will be found within.

RP Sample The darkness was shattered by the sound of childish feet going pat-pat-pat. Two diminutive, shadowy forms hurtled away from the fluttering flag, splendiferous as it was with all of the different colours that billowed in the slight breeze. Reds, blues, purples, greens, oranges and yellows were resplendent, their colour painting a tapestry of different colours reflecting off the sun as it began to rise over the horizon. From these small, child-like forms, the sound of laughter could be heard echoing behind them as they fled. For Elandria and Daesalor, two sides of the same coin, it was just another morning and just another prank. Elandria led the way, her dark, curly locks blowing in the breeze, wearing a woven dress of bright red silk. Behind her, dressed in darker clothes as was his wont, her twin brother, Daesalor followed. Their young faces were creased in laughter at the joke that they had just played at the expense of their victim. And they ran, how they ran, to escape the punishment that would have been dealt out to the two young pranksters. But at the tender age of eight, the two carefree, untroubled souls did not have a worry in the world. Coming to the top of a hill, the two of them, exhausted, threw themselves down to lie on the grassy knoll. As the clouds parted and the first rays of sunlight came to banish away the dark, the two of them lay next to each other, their young, impressionable faces creased in laughter. Rolling around on his side, young Daesalor came to face his sister. "Hey sis, we should make a pact. That we always look out for each other. That whatever happens, we stick up for each other and we stand side by side. That we be the closest friends in the world." As it so happened, Elandria agreed with her brother, but then she never could resist him. Looking around, Daesalor found something suitable. A small thorn. Using it, he pricked his thumb. Passing it over to Elandria, she did the same thing. The two joined thumbs and hands, pressing them together, as Daesalor spoke. "I swear to look after you, my sister. To hold you close, to fight for you and believe in you. That no matter what happens, we will never be separated and we will never let anything come between us." The clouds parted, and the sun shone through as Elandria repeated the words. A ray of light shone down on top of them, bathing them in its warm, lifegiving light. Daesalor smiled as he looked upwards. "Ella....its a sign. The gods themselves have heard us and they have recognised the oath. It is sealed." And so it was sealed.

About the Player What do you like to see in a PBP game? A good story, and good collaboration between both players and GM. I like to see good roleplay and interactions between the players, I thrive on the interactions and storytelling . What do you not like to see in a PBP game? OOC drama first and foremost. We’re all here to have a good time and escape the drudgery of IRL. What piqued your interest in applying for this game? The setting is a very tantalising one (getting definite Mordheim vibes here). In addition to this I have to be honest and say you’ve been absolutely awesome in my own game, how could I not been drawn to this when there is someone like you at the helm. Finally, having a skim through your list of applicants so far is also a very pleasant cherry on top of a delightful cake, there are some really really awesome players in here that I would be truly honoured to game with. What do you want to get out of this game? Be selfish - what is in it for YOU? Daesalor’s story is one I would absolutely love to see develop in the setting of the game, I’ve been pretty inspired with the setting when writing him up. I’d also love to get a chance to interact with some of these quite brilliant characters I’m seeing written up here, there’s a lot of potential here I think for what looks like it’s bound to be a really really good game. What is your expected posting rate? (no right or wrong here, just want to know expectations) 2-3 posts a week is doable from my perspective.

[Drifter One]

I have added the applicant list at the bottom of the advert. I have put them all as WIP so if you have completed your application then please let me know and I will alter the status accordingly.

[silveroak]

My application is, I believe, finished

[Mythrandil]

Mine as well, thanks! Are you planning on a feedback round before selection?

[Arkanis]

My app should be finished, although let me know if I've missed something.

[The Rat Queen]

Oda is finished as well, to my knowledge.

[darkbringer]

My application for Albrecht is complete as well.

[arin12]

Time to throw my hat in the ring! Not complete by any means, but the bare bones is there:

APPLICATION DATA Name: Cinna Chandlerson | Class: Sorcerer Race: Human [Variant] | Gender: Male | Age: 15 Height: 5'3" | Weight: 121 lbs. | Hair Color: Blond | Eye Color: Blue Visible Scars/Tattoos: a starsplat birthmark pattern on his left cheek| Attire and Visible Objects: usually just a traveler's garb History: An eldritch storm of falling stars devastated the city on that woeful eve, leaving behind a meteorite that would have lasting effects. At the exact moment of impact, not ten miles away, a baby was born in a field covered by stardust. I'm that baby. My mother named me Cinna, because she says the stardust that rained down on us when I was born smelled of cinnamon to her. She's a chandler by trade, and I think she taught me to help her mold wax before she bothered teaching me to walk or talk. I don't know who my father was, and she refuses to speak of it because she insists that she would feel compelled to lie, and "those who love each other never lie to one another." She has a thousand platitudes like that, and she drilled them into my head constantly while we worked. I'd have been contented to live out my days in the chandlery, helping with candles, but my mom had dreams of my becoming a scribe. She made wax seals for some of the more prominent ones in the city, and when I was ten, she bought me an apprenticeship with one. It meant living away from her AND it meant doing her work alone again, so I knew it was dreadfully important to her. I took to it easily enough; I learned my letters, and I learned which pigments to grind in order to create the right inks for the task. It looked like fulfilling her dream would be well within my reach. Then the Incident happened. I understand it a whole lot better now, but I still don't like to think about it. It was over a year into my apprenticeship, and I was in the chandlery with my master. He and my mother were negotiating a price for some sealing wax, and in the midst of it I realized he was... fancying her. Evidently being my master wasn't enough; he was aiming to be my father as well! Now, it's not as though I didn't get along with my master, and it's not as though he was an evil person. I know he'd not have pressed my mother inappropriately, had I stayed uninvolved. But he was just forceful enough with his advances to upset me, and I chose to speak out of turn. That led to raised voices, and in a sudden burst of anger, I shouted an obscenity at him - and the flames from the nearby candles jumped in height and launched themselves at him as well. I burned a scar into his face that day, and needless to say, my apprenticeship was forfeit. But that was just as well, because the healer who was fetched to look into my master's wound informed me that what had happened was an affliction known to happen to boys and girls entering puberty. He referred to it as being mageborn, and said that I would need to study under a wizard or sorcerer to learn how to control these outbursts, or else they would be bound to continue. The Amethyst Academy was briefly considered, but my mother preferred that I learn quietly, under the tutelage of an old friend of her's. For some reason, she didn't want my abilities to become common knowledge. She even accepted my old scribemaster as her consort in exchange for his silence, something that made me even more urgently in need of learning to control my temper. So I traded one master for another, and the next three years were an apprenticeship of a sort I could never have expected. My new master called me Starchild, in deference to my birth circumstances, and she was convinced that my arcane abilities stemmed from that source rather than the usual genetic link that most sorcerers and wizards claimed. It was when I started studying under her that I started having the dreams. Dreams about the meteor shower, and the crater that had been formed because of them. Dreams of people dying in agony. My master promised me that the dreams would fade once I learned control of my magic, but the years went by and that turned out not to be the case. A month before my fifteenth birthday, I told her that I believed only a return to my birthplace could possibly help me make sense of what I was experiencing. She agreed that I was ready for such a trip, and started preparing me for the journey... Description/Personality: I'm disgustingly small for my age but if I'm honest, it doesn't bother me (unless someone's underestimating or belittling me about it). I like to keep my blond hair cut short, not that I have anything against long hair on men but long hair requires more attention and upkeep than I'm willing to provide for it. Honestly, thank the gods for Prestidigitation, because I like to be very clean but handling hygiene the old fashioned way was a colossal waste of time. I think my eyes are my best feature, anyone who can look past the blasted pock marks on my cheek usually comments on them. "Like sparkling sapphires," my spellmistress would say, when she was feeling particularly wistful. I think I remind her of some dead kid in her past. Not much else to say about the physical, really. Got the usual number of fingers and toes, and despite a pretty haphazardous relationship with fire in my life, I've managed to escape any permanent burn marks. I'm not well off myself, but I've acquired some fairly decent clothing, having to represent my spellmistress in public from time to time. As for the rest, I guess I've been told I'm pretty serious, for a youth. It's not that I don't enjoy a proper bout of mischief, it's that I tend to play the long game when it comes to that sort of thing and my sense of humor requires that it all hinge on some wonderfully obscure technicality. As, for example, the time that I was told only broad strokes could be used in one of my scribed scrolls, so I simply wrote the words "broad strokes" over and over again on the parchment and waited to see how long it took my scribe master to notice that one. I did, of course, have a correct and proper one available the second he found out - I'm not about to let pranking be an excuse for not doing my work proper! Which I guess does make me comparatively serious, which is probably why I get on better with adults than I do my peers. One time I'd been stuck at a party my spellmistress was invited to and the cheeky brat I'd been relegated to entertaining thought it was capital to run about with a stick through a hoop whilst cackling some poor excuse for a song. Torture! I've also been called a bit chatty, and perhaps not the best secret keeper that one has ever met. There's truth to both charges, but come on! I've read some of the most fascinating treatises out there, on quite the wide variety of topics. If those what wrote them had decided that they were better kept secret, then the knowledge would never have been there for me to find, and I feel something of a duty to share it freely same as it was shared to me. Besides, like I said, sometimes I get underestimated or belittled, and showing that I actually know things tends to be the best remedy for that sort of balderdash.   Background: Sage Ideal: Life is beautiful because it is harsh. Grinding pigments makes inks. Burning candles produces heat and light. There is no such thing as pain that doesn't produce benefits for those who endure. Bond / Personal Mission: I suffer from the Apocalyptic Visions of the Drakkenheim crater. But more than just seeing the crater for myself, I must uncover the circumstances connecting it with my birth. Personality Traits: I smoke a pipe. Yes, it's a dirty habit, and yes, most as young as me either don't smoke or waste perfectly good paper on rolling up the plant. I'm not going to waste the paper and I find a good pipe calms my nerves, so I smoke a pipe. Deal with it. I am absolutely in love with violin music, and it is to my eternal sorrow that I'll never learn to play one. Flaw: I'm a man (okay, a boy) of the mind. As such, I don't often place as much value on feelings and empathy as perhaps I should. Alignment: Lawful Neutral Skills: Arcana, History (Background) Insight, Persuasion (Class) Nature (human variant) Example Post: Cinna looked around the room that had been his own private domain for over three years now. Odd, that it had never occurred to him to ponder the room's past: Whose was it before his? What had become of them? What would they think of how he had nested in it, during his tenure here? But as he tugs the final string to seal his traveling satchel, and ponders similar questions about the room's future, it has naturally led to a lamentation about its past. "The past is the future, and the future is the past." One of his mother's platitudes, and one of the more frustrating ones at that, but perhaps in this melancholy state he could finally see the wisdom in it. It was, after all, the cornerstone of his entire journey. A look back, in order to help him look forward. "Thinking great thoughts?" came the voice behind him, causing his head to turn sharply. His spellmistress stood at his doorway, looking for all the planes like a gleeful farmer about to send her child for his first day in the orchard. She even had a loaf of sweetbread in her hands, wrapped in a fine white cloth. The affection was reassuring, but it also made him uncomfortable. It put him to mind of how much he was going to miss these familiar surroundings, and the woman who provided them. "Small thoughts, actually," he conceded, gesturing around the room. "Though most of my great ones tend to start there." He allowed her the liberty of stepping forward to adjust the clasps on his traveling cloak. "Any word of OOC: Hey, fellow applicants! Anyone want to use my trip as part of your background, and a way to connect us in the game? Let's talk about it!hiring someone to accompany me?" "Got a couple of possibilities in mind," she replied tenderly, holding back a sniffle. "We'll make a final decision together when we get to the carriagemaster." Cinna nodded, taking the bread from her and stowing it in a flap on the outside of his pack. He took one last look around, sighing. "Well, no sense putting it off. Let's head out."   What do you like to see in a PBP game? An engaging story, first and foremost. Also some of that juicy roleplaying. What do you not like to see in a PBP game? I dunno... I mean, I'm pretty "anything goes", so other than the obvious (OOC drama), there's nothing a game could have that would bother me. What piqued your interest in applying for this game? You mean besides it being one of the few 5e games open at the moment? I like the personal quests, there's nothing cooler than knowing that a DM is taking your story into account when they do their weaving. What do you want to get out of this game? Be selfish - what is in it for YOU? Anytime I get to be a player and not a DM is just a great time in and of itself. Other than that, I suppose I want what most people want from a game - a fun experience and a couple of good war stories to tell other gamers. What is your expected posting rate? No right or wrong on my end either. Anything slower than 1/week would be disappointing but acceptable, and anything more than 1/2day would be hard to keep up with but I'd try.

[Drifter One]

Just to note: I will provide some feedback (if requested), but this will be a weekend task when I have some more time and work stops bothering me with, well, work stuff

[Arkanis]

I wouldn't be opposed to feedback, although I might not have time to action it until I get back from hols as I am away Monday

[Drifter One]

having a holiday! How dare you!

I will find some time this week to provide some.

[The Rat Queen]

FYI, I'll be on vacation from the 10th to about the 19th. I may be able to pop in during this time, but I'm not sure how my connectivity will be. Please feel free to NPC my character while I'm gone to move the story along.