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  #31  
Old 02-12-2020, 02:19 PM
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Good to see you again, the more the merrier as far as I’m concerned . Some really good apps are already coming in, keep em coming!

I’ve not announced a closing date yet but it’s likely to be in the next two/three weeks or so.
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  #32  
Old 02-12-2020, 04:08 PM
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  #33  
Old 02-12-2020, 04:14 PM
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A Faerun campaign with no Drow representation? Really people, have you no shame? I guess the resident priestess of Eilistraee is going to have to pick up the slack here.

Application
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Name: Valsinara "Vala" Godet'tar
Age: 125
Race: Elf (Drow)
Class: Druid (Circle of the Moon)
Alignment: Neutral Good
Personality: Calm, stoic, introspective, Vala is all of these and more. She's the kind of girl who seeks out looking deep into someone's soul before making a decision or giving them an answer, and sometimes those answers come in complete riddles. Though not the eldest of her kind, she speaks with the wisdom of one who has seen the world. But woe be unto those who anger the Drow druidess, for they will not find the slow and and cunning revenge of her Underdark ancestry that can be thwarted with cunning and preparation. Rather they will find themselves against the unbridled fury of nature itself, thrust upon them like a lycanthrope in the full frenzy of the full moon.

Appearance: Vala is a short, slender young elf maiden, though she possesses no small amount of the infamous Drow beauty that makes up many a bawdry tale. In fact, there is little in the way one can do to hide her ancestry; her ears are large and pointed like daggers, her eyes are as red as polished rubies, and she bears the trademark dusky-grey skin and snow-white hair of her kind. Her hair is kept long out of custom, nearly down to her feet, and usually decorated with a crown-braid and whatever wild flowers may be in season. In reality, her one truly distinguishing feature that sets her apart from other Drow is her sense of fashion: Vala is almost always seen in leathers, naturally tanned and died to keep the tawny hues of the deer killed to make them and accented with simple jewlery made from rough gemstones and the teeth of wild animals.

Backstory: WIP
RP Sample: WIP

Last edited by MaximumUnicorn; 02-13-2020 at 02:00 AM.
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  #34  
Old 02-13-2020, 12:17 AM
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Tarhun Norixius
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Name: Tarhun Norixius
Age: 24
Race: Dragonborn (Copper)
Class: Wizard
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Background: Sage
  • Specialty: Researcher
  • Personality Trait: I...speak...slowly...when talking...to idiots...which...almost...everyone...is...compared ...to me.
  • Personality Trait: I've read every book in the world's greatest libraries-or I like to boast that I have.
  • Ideal: Knowledge. The path to power and self-improvement is through knowledge.
  • Bond: My life's work is a series of tomes related to a specific field of lore.
  • Flaw: I am easily distracted by the promise of information.

Personality: Tarhun has dedicated his life to the pursuit of knowledge, and everything else is secondary to this purpose. Incredibly focused by nature, he can often appear absent-minded, ignoring the plainly visible or apparent if it is not related to his studies. Never particularly gifted when it comes to the social arts, Tarhun finds himself frustrated by those he sees as mental inferiors, often behaving aloof or outright rude to such people.

The cause for his demeanor isn't just the result of his scholarly focus, however. Tarhun grew up an outcast due to his appearance. He was outcast by his clan, only to be raised by a wizard who cared little for his apprentice beyond having an assistant. The Dragonborn has had very few friends in life, his sole constant companion being the cat he adopted, named Ash after he rescued it from a fire. The one-eyed beast is, in many ways, just as much an outcast as he is, and as a result, is the only thing he shares true kinship with.

Appearance: The first thing that people tend to notice about Tarhun is his obvious draconic heritage. Even in Baldur's Gate, where all races are seen more frequently, he often draws stares due to his skin tone. His scales are pure white, combining with pink eyes to reveal the affliction that has plagued the young scholar's life: Tarhun was born cursed with albinism.

The second thing that people tend to notice about Tarhun is that he resembles the most gaudy type of traveling merchant, or perhaps an overeager hoarder. He wears a traveling outfit consisting of dark, durable cloth underneath a jacket of red and yellow, though if asked why he chose those colors, he will be unable to tell you. His clothing is covered in pouches, belt loops, and straps, holding all manner of items. Small vials of mysterious liquid, tightly wrapped rolls of parchment, carrying bags of various shapes and sizes, rings on every finger. Even the quarterstaff he habitually carries is wrapped in lengths of cloth and topped with a feather of indeterminate origins.

Backstory: Tarhun was born into the great clan Norixius, an extended family with centuries of noble history. If he had been born as an ordinary child, he would likely have been groomed for chief-hood, or perhaps trained to be the keeper of the Clan's histories, a great honor. Alas, when his egg hatched, a normally joyous cause for celebration became a muted event, with those in attendance muttering under their breaths. Tarhun's scales were pale as the moon, and his eyes, watching curiously, were a bright pink.

Tarhun was a cursed hatchling. The superstitious clan sent him to a temple in Baldur's gate, claiming that his parents had died. In reality, they were simply too ashamed to keep their son.

Fortune, or fate, smiled upon him in one way however. He had been at the temple mere weeks before a chance visit by Soveliss, a moderately well known Wizard, revealed that he had, within his blood, the ability to perform feats of magic. Soveliss, an unkind mage, adopted the child, raising him in harsh conditions, but teaching the child the fundamentals of magic. Lessons often came with harsh rebukes, and he found no solace in the scant free time his master allowed him, for the few times he attempted to interact with other children, they recoiled in horror, hurling abuse at the one they called the pale lizard freak.

Adulthood came, however, and with it, Tarhun announced to Soveliss that he would set out into the world, ever curious to gain knowledge and perhaps find a place where he would not be as ostracized. In a fit of rage, Soveliss burned down his own home, aiming to destroy his apprentice rather than allow him to leave. A falling roof tile landed on the mage, however, allowing him to flee into the streets. As he left, he scooped up a frightened stray kitten that had taken refuge in a corner, salving its wounds as soon as he was able.

Since that day, six years ago, Tarhun has traveled the world, writing volume after volume about any subject that takes his fancy. "A Draconic Viewpoint: Volume I" dealt with the city of Baldur's Gate, his observations on its people and culture. Volume II dealt with the sea, a project that required him to spend two years on the ocean, acting as an on-board Wizard for entrepreneurial captains who sought a magical edge over their rivals.

Now, he has begun to work on Volume III, dealing with the unfamiliar, the forgotten, the lost places of the world. In preparation for setting out on an expedition east in search of a fabled lost city, he has returned to Baldur's Gate to stock up on provisions and prepare to set out.

Little does he know that fate will send him in a different direction entirely...

RP Sample:

 


Last edited by Kuran; 02-13-2020 at 04:41 PM.
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  #35  
Old 02-13-2020, 04:41 PM
Kuran Kuran is offline
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Application done! Feedback, etc would be much appreciated!
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  #36  
Old 02-14-2020, 12:05 PM
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Hi folks, as it stands I’m going to set the closing date to Friday 28th February for applications.
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  #37  
Old 02-14-2020, 06:58 PM
GoombaJosh GoombaJosh is offline
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Don't mind me, just putting a placeholder, I'm gonna play as a pretty generic dwarf cleric, so don't expect much.
Kanvas
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I am a Hammer of Moradin and as is my duty as a knight. I follow the guidance of his hand, and strike bone or iron as he wills it.

Name: Kanvas Glasscavern
Age: 55
Race: Mountain Dwarf
Class: War Cleric/Fighter (Champion)
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Personality:Kanvas is a dwarf with a few words, an introspective woman who says a great deal in few words. She is unflappably calm, and even in battle exudes a tranquility that is rare among her kind. She does not shirk from battle when it is necessary, but she would rather spend her time in creating art in a number of mediums.
Appearance: Kanvas carries herself with a gentle strength that shows in the cords of her muscles and the power in her movements, however graceless they may be. She's curvy for her kind, but does little to show it off. Her ginger-colored hair is kept half shaved and braided, her scarred face gives her a feral look but her silver eyes could calm oceans. While she normally prefers long, well-made and ornamented dresses, the toga-like robes of her priesthood rank are what she spends most of her time in. When dressed for battle, she wears a blue-and-gold garment like tabard over her chainmail. With her shield proudly displaying the sigil of the Glasscaverns. Whether she's dressed for combat or not, a war hammer always swings from her hip.
Backstory: Kanvas grew up among her own kind, deep in the Mountains. She played under a sky of stone, measured time by the growth of stalagmites, and learned the basics of dozens of crafts before she was twenty. The Glasscaverns had gotten rich off of their glass works, and her parents spared no expense in her education. Though Kanvas was a dedicated student of academia, she found she excelled at artistic and philosophical pursuits, and reveled in the study of thought, religion, and calligraphy. As her family's fortune and influence grew among the Clans, Kanvas felt a distance grow between her and her parents. She joined the priesthood of Moradin as she found the god's presence a soothing comfort, but the traditional and conservative values of the religion often conflicted with her parents' financial ambitions. Though she served her time in the militia, as all good citizens of the mountains do, but her leadership and wit earned her a place in the Magenta Knighthelm(A mercenary group of dwarven fighters who fight for honor and military tactics), and also moved her from acolyte to War Cleric. She felt Moradin's presence intimately, and knew that he worked through her. She was eventually moved to a place known as Baldur's Gate to be a new Priestess of a church of Moraddin after the original Priest passed away.

Her parents didn't agree with the choices Kanvas made and even tried using forgery and bribery to ruin her reputation in the church. They didn't succeed, Kanvas was furious for this betrayal, but she didn't want to hurt them so she left and took her calligraphy tools with her. When she moved to Baldur's Gate, she became well known for defending the docks from goblin pirates, mostly because one of these pirates manage to desecrate a few artifacts of Moraddin. She even set up an expedition with members of the Magenta Knighthelm to find their hideout. She bravely led the charge and succeeded in her venture. However, in their expedition they found a chest but couldn't open, so they decided to open it with the proper tools later.

RP Sample: It was noisy today in the deck, most noise would be ignored since it was after all a ship full of dwarves, but this noise in particular drew the attention of Kanvas Glasscavern, Cleric of War and member of the Magenta Knighthelm. Who just recently slayed a ship full of goblins and is currently working on her calligraphy. She was taking in on the beautiful scenery of the ocean, forgetting about her troubles and taking it all in. But her tranquility wan ruined by a shout, she was used to the drunken rowdiness of her kin, but this shout was of different, it had a sense of panic. She grabbed her Warhammer, armor was still worn by her during the voyage, and raised her shield, keeping up the pace towards the shouts, and when she rounds the corner she spot's a few injured dwarves.

"Oi, what happened here? Where's the captain and the rest of the crew?"

She said to them, but as she walk to them she thought, when did she met these ones before. She knew most of the crew but she never met these dwarves. Her speculation was soon answered as a blow to her head was all it takes to knock her out.

As she returns back to consciousness, she finds herself tied up and gagged, while the 'injured dwarves' and another one with an eye patch who is currently in the possession of a box that was looted from the goblin ship, are currently surrounding the room. The eye patched dwarf speaks up with the most condescending tone.

"Ah, so your finally awake. Your probably wondering what happened to everybody else, well let's just say that it only took at least 4 or 5 of us to take you guys on. Granted we had to put a lot of poison in their ale, though this is such a shame to waste good ale. Oh but don't worry, your crew put on quite a fight, to me and my man cut them down."

Kanvas would listen to him, but can't ignore a horrible stench rising towards the mess hall. She didn't want to think of it much, not wanting to know her fellow knights are now dead right next door, she focus her senses towards the eye patch wearing dwarf. The dwarf responded by chocking Kanvas.

"Listen here cleric, I'll let you live just cause your a cleric of Moradin. But in exchange I want you to tell the people of Baldur's Gate that the seas belong to me." he says and let's go of Kanvas throat and makes a self aggrandizing gesture,"Captain Milo Longfatham, ruthless Lord of the Sea and this gem is mine."

He says and pulls out a key, unlocking the chest and revealing a strange rainbow colored gem. He gives a nod to his men and they knocked Kanvas out, back to unconsciousness.

Kanvas then found herself at the custody of the Flaming Fist, she answered them everything she knew, what happened to the crew and the pirate that killed them. She learned that the ship she was on went missing for days, they found her wash up shore on a dinghy, unconscious with all her belongings intact. After a few days, Kanvas started doing another one of her calligraphy, it was calmed things down for her when things get tough. For days she contemplated on her next move, on how to avenge her fallen comrades, but as she starts writing her calligraphies, she decided to let Moradin take the lead. In order to guide her path to finding her adversary, she will be patient. The upside is that she'll have all the time to make new forms of calligraphy.

Last edited by GoombaJosh; 02-14-2020 at 10:20 PM.
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  #38  
Old 02-14-2020, 07:13 PM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by GoombaJosh View Post
Don't mind me, just putting a placeholder, I'm gonna play as a pretty generic dwarf cleric, so don't expect much.
I think your placeholder should probably read something like "I'm going to submit the most amazing character you've ever seen, and you'll have no choice but to accept me into your game."

Don't undersell yourself.
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  #39  
Old 02-14-2020, 07:18 PM
GoombaJosh GoombaJosh is offline
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Gee thanks, you know what, I'm gonna do my best to create a the best darn cleric ever made.
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  #40  
Old 02-14-2020, 10:23 PM
GoombaJosh GoombaJosh is offline
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And done, feedback is much appreciated, hope everything is A-okay. ;p
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  #41  
Old 02-15-2020, 03:48 AM
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Ok, my application is revised and complete. I hope this idea fits better. You can find it here.
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  #42  
Old 02-15-2020, 04:53 PM
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I took the Oath of Sangus

Last edited by Odyssey; 02-17-2020 at 11:32 AM.
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  #43  
Old 02-16-2020, 02:56 AM
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EstradaName:Estrada

Age: 24

Race: Goliath

Class: Concept: Luchador-style Pro Wrestler Combat Using Grapples and Unarmed StrikesFighter (Battle Master)

Alignment: Chaotic good

Personality: Estrada is quick with a laugh and loves a good barb. Never roused to a fight out anger, Estrada fights for gold, a just cause, or just because. Any wounds are typically nursed over an ale at the end of the night.

Appearance:
left-aligned image

Typically stooped in an unassuming posture, Estrada is rarely noticed except for her sheer size. shows a totally different side when she slips out of her robe for a fight. Her toned muscles ripple across her while her smile sends a menacing message all its own.

Background/Role Playing Sample: Renamed Gladiator BackgroundPit-Fighter
Estrada is the youngest of a family of twelve. Being the only girl didn't save her from any chores on the small farm they ran or any of the intense rivalries that existed between her brothers. From a young age boxing, wrestling, and occasional armed combat filled the nights. Holding her own against her brothers became a way of life when she struggled to make it as a carpenter's apprentice after moving to the city.

She took to fighting in the after hours pits below taverns near the docks. The steady flow of purses kept her afloat when her ability to keep a job couldn't. Her growing renown kept her popular in the pits, but she had to keep moving. In pit after pit she cowed the other women and the men wouldn't fight with a real possibility of losing to her.

Eventually, in the seediest of pits, she fell in among a group of fighters that took to a looser set of rules. Unable to adjust quickly enough, she found herself on the ropes early in the fight. Dwarven knuckles and elbows were raining down on her faster than she was able to cope with. Desperate, she clamped her legs around the neck of her opponent and squeezed. As they collapsed into the mud, she called for the dwarven woman to yield.

Cranking back on the hold, Estrada caught a glimpse of a face in the crowd. The horror on the face was clearly written, and she looked between her legs to find the limp form of the woman.

Fleeing the pits, Estrada found herself on the docks by dawn. She took a gig as a carpenter on the first ship she could find looking to depart that morning.
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Last edited by Numen Wraith; 02-20-2020 at 04:34 AM.
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  #44  
Old 02-16-2020, 05:38 AM
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Finally finished my app as well! Been reading through some of the others in this thread too - so many good 'uns
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Old 02-16-2020, 07:32 AM
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Character Concept
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Name: Zydaxius de-Romira
Age: 18
Race: Minotaur
Class: Fighter (Battle Master)
Alignment: He follows a strict code of conduct from his homeland of Krynn which favors prowess in battle and that only the strong shall survive, and that someday the minotaur race will rule the world. He has a strong sense of honor and unquestionable integrity, and his word is his bond.Lawful Neutral. Minotaur Honor Code.

Personality:
Bold and proud, Zydaxius is a warrior born and bred. Strength and courage are highly esteemed by him, as well as those who are honorable and follow their own personal codes of conduct. Cowardice and ineptitude are to be scorned, and if one breaks his word once he gives it that is almost as shameful as those two. Zydaxius is a perfectionist in many ways and has a strong sense of self-discipline and drive to do great things. Glory in battle and wealth is to be desired, as those are signs of strength and honor in his culture. He also has a deep curiosity about the world and a desire to see and experience all life has to offer. His word is his bond, and he thinks carefully before he gives it. But when he does, he sticks by it no matter what as it is the honorable and right thing to do.

Appearance:
Towering over most normal folks, Zydaxias is a monstrous looking fellow covered in a thin layer of a mixture of brown fur and human hair. His bovine face is strong looking and proud, with small red eyes underneath a pronounced brow. His nostrils are flat and wide, with a mouth full of sharp teeth that give him a ferocious appearance. A large pair of gnarled pearl colored horns protrude from his forehead and are adorned with simple steel bands. A short, well cut mane of hair runs from the middle of his forehead and down his back underneath the collar of his dark blue naval jacket. He is slightly hunchbacked and walks with a noticeable swagger to his step, although he favors his left leg slightly. Several hand made bracelets adorned with lucky charms and other gewgaws are on his wrists, and a chain shirt is worn underneath his jacket on his massive and heavily muscled torso. Around his narrow waist is a thick leather belt from which hangs several handaxes, and on his lower body which seems almost comically small in comparison to his massive upper torso he wears a set of loose tan breeches. Instead of feet he has a large pair of hooves and a small tail which seems to swing animatedly on its own protrudes from the back of his breeches. He carries a massive two bladed axe with ease, almost as if it were a paperweight instead of a considerable fighting weapon.

Backstory:
Born to seafaring parents in the Korinn Archipelago, Zydaxius learned to walk on the rolling decks of ships and to swim in the rough waves of the ocean. Once he was old enough he immediately began working as a cabin boy on the same ships as his parents and received his education and life experience on the waters of the Sword Coast. His father Driphas was one of the finest navigators in the entire Archipelago, and his mother Kalzana was the fiercest she-bull who ever touched steel in the Claarteeros Sea. Zydaxius has learned since then that humans tend to call what his parents were engaged in "piracy", but to him that was the minotaur way. The strongest were in charge, and you gave the strongest your stuff or you challenged them to be the strongest. He took well to his primitive education and his life at sea, and was soon training with his mother and father in all the skills of the warrior: the blade, the axe, and the arms that made them strong. As he grew, he showed an innate ability to navigate and remember the geography of where he had been, just like his father, and soon the other sailors were saying he was the second coming of Driphas, the man who always knew the way. And of course, during their supply runs on unsuspecting local ships, he showed himself a fierce and capable warrior.

It was one of those supply runs where he was seriously wounded in the left hip and stayed in the Archipelago to recover for several weeks. During that time, the ship his parents were on, Dauntless, was attacked by rival pirates. His father was wounded and captured, and his mother was hung from the crow's nest. Despite his injuries, Zydaxius immediately began seeking out these pirates, specifically their captain Westby the Marked, a cruel half-orc warrior with a brand on his forehead from a foreign prison that signified he was sentenced to death. He found their hidden port at the same time his father Driphas and the other prisoners had staged a revolt against their cruel captors. Zydaxius managed to find his way to Driphas where the two men fought Westby the Marked on the deck of his own ship The Scourge of Gods. The two minotaurs fell onto Westby with their axes, mortally wounding the man and throwing him off the ship and into the currents below, doomed to drown in the shadow of his home. Driphas survived, but his tortures at the hands of Westby were grotesque - his father could now barely see due to the burning his eyes endured, and the nails driven into his hands prevented Driphas from ever touching a sextant again. Zydaxius got his father home and gave him all he had so he could live a modest but safe lifestyle, but quickly realized he would be out of money. Thus he has since moved on to more legal methods (so far) of sailing as a ship's navigator for hire out of Baldur's Gate. He visits his father's home in the Archipelago when he can where he keeps Driphas alive in the best way he can. He has earned the moniker "Slayer of the Marked" due to his victory against Captain Westby, who was well known and notorious for his cruelty and evil deeds.

RP Sample:
Roaring in anger, Zydaxius charges, froth dripping from his mouth and his axe raised high above his head ready to hew his opponent in two. Westby's attention is suddenly taken away from Driphas, who lies on the ground clutching his chest as warm blood gushes from a grievous wound. Zydaxius's father looks like he has been through hell - his eyes run red almost as if he were crying blood, and his strong deft hands Zydaxius remembers so well were now gnarled in pain, barely able to hold on to the sword Driphas was currently trying to raise. Westby snarls and blocks Zydaxius's massive downstroke with his own gruesome-looking two handed sword, and Zydaxius feels a shock in his body as he feels the strength behind it. Westby is suddenly a blur of steel as he swings his massive sword at Zydaxius, and he growls in pain as the sword hammers down on the haft of his double bladed axe, causing the edge to bite heavily into his shoulder. The half orc is startlingly fast, and with powerful blows that Zydaxius is barely able to block and can mount no offense against.

It was Driphas who turned the tide of the battle. Through the haze of red that reduced his vision to near blindness, Driphas saw the unguarded leg of Westby the Marked and struck, cleaving into the half orc's thigh with a gush of blood. Screaming in anger, Westby's attention drops from Zydaxius who sees his opening. Swinging his axe fron underneath, the large moon-shaped blade deflects off of Westby's slow block and thunks heavily into his torso, the sound remarkably similar to splitting a log for the fire. Blood mixes with the froth in his mouth as Westby drops his sword and feebly attempts to pull the axe out of his body. Grabbing him by the shoulder with his left hand, Zydaxius yells "This is for my father!!" and pulls the half orc into the blade even more as he pushes his weapon forward with his right. Gurgling and unable to speak, death is still in Westby's eyes as he locks onto Zydaxius's throat with his left hand. Wheezing as clouds of black start to form around his eyes, Zydaxius tries to break Westby's grip but even while dying the half orc is amazingly strong. Driphas, now on his feet, strikes Westby in the back with a hacking blow of his sword which frees Zydaxius from Westby's grasp but causes Driphas to fall down in his weakened state. Smashing his horns into Westby's face, Zydaxius shoves the half orc as hard as he can, causing him to fall off the edge of the ship to the shark infested waters below. Seeing the bubbles fade and the blood pool where he fell, Zydaxius feels satisfied the man is dead.

Rushing to his father's side, he drops his massive bloodstained axe next to him and reaches down to help his father up. Despite the pain of his wounds in his voice, Driphas's voice is tinged with happiness. You.... you came for me... I knew... knew you would. Proud of you, Zydaxius... a fine son... a fine warrior..." Throwing the older minotaur's arm around his neck, Zydaxius supports his father as he begins walking him towards the gangplank to get him off of this accursed ship. As the sounds of battle still rage around them, Zydaxius speaks in a soft tone to his father "I always will, Father. As long as I draw breath. You are all I have left, and as Zydaxius is my name none shall take what I have without a fight." Driphas does not respond with words, but merely a bloodstained smile and a knock of the horns to signify his pride and love. Now on solid ground, the two men make their way towards finding a way to escape the hidden port and return home.
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06/20/20 - My baby daughter was born on the 17th, catching up now as a dad of three.

Last edited by Grouchy; 02-24-2020 at 12:38 PM.
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