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Old 02-08-2020, 11:51 AM
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Voyage to the Edge of the World

Game NameVoyage to the Edge of the World
Game SystemDnD 5e
ThemeAn Epic Seabound Adventure into the heart of uncharted lands in search of the lost treasures of an ancient civilisation
FlavourPirates mixed with Steampunk, and maybe a little bit of Cthulhu too
Plot Summary


Mood Music

You have all heard legends of it.

An island that is said to lie at the very edges of the known world. An island that is as cloaked in mystery as it is steeped in dread. Once, many hundreds of thousands of years ago, a powerful civilisation was said to live on this island. A place that was rumoured to not only be technologically advanced, but magically beyond anything the world has ever seen before.....and seen since. Flying steam-powered airships were said to be common place in this world, and factories dedicated to Gond the Wondermaker created all sorts of mechanical items and creations that have long been lost, along with the knowledge of how to create them.

One day, the island was destroyed under a magical cataclysm that devastated all those who lived on the surface and sank it under the waves, its mysteries and wonders lost with it. The Island of Tamoachan, as it was once called, was wiped off the surface of the world and its name eventually forgotten save for rare fragments of lore that remain.

An age has passed since the Island of Tamoachan was last seen, however rumours persist of a deserted island at the very edge of the world. An island that houses on it the ruins and skeleton of a civilisation and the technology it had once created.

Yet getting there will not be an easy task.

All ocean voyages are fraught with peril, yet a voyage to the end of the world might seem to some to be a deliberate goading of the Bitch Queen Umberlee. Those rare individuals who have attempted the voyage before and returned often choose not to speak of the trials they experienced on the dangerous route, yet those whose lips can be loosened by a draught of grog whisper amazing stories......tales of pirates, sea monsters, terrifying storms, and perhaps most harrowing of all, of a strange and sinister land without land, a floating graveyard of dead ships mired in a sargasso the size of an island. A place that has many names, yet its most well-known may be its most apt -- Journey's End.

However, not one of these intrepid sailors has ever found this mysterious island spoken of only in the legends of distant past.

~~

A Modest Proposal

You all have experience of the sea. You may have sailed as part of the same crew, you may not have -- it is immaterial. What is indisputable though is the simple fact that you have spent far far too long locked on-shore in the port city of Baldur's Gate, for one reason or another. You yearn for the sea and the sea, she calls for you in turn.

However, during your time on-shore, you have not been idle. Each of you has performed one heroic and notable act during your time in the city, and word of your exploits have reached the ears of one of the noble families of Baldur's Gate. A rising noble within the Gate, the Lady Lavinia Vanderboren has heard of you and your acts, and it so happens that she needs a crew.

A crew that will man her ship, the Sea Wyvern, on a very special journey -- one that will take you further than you have ever been before to a land that is, at best, uncharted and, at worst, deadly.

Lavinia wants to put her name on the map once and for all. She wants to succeed where none have gone before.

But first though, she needs not just a crew -- she needs the very best.

 


~~

About Me and the GameHello one, hello all. This is a 5th Edition game set within Faerun, however it will not be a land-based adventure.

This game will attempt to fuse together a number of different themes into something that I hope will be an exciting and memorable whole. Equal parts pirate adventure mixed with steampunk and a sprinkling of Cthulhu and perhaps a little bit of the Lost World on top of it all, I intend to thrill and delight you with this tale of rip roaring adventure and derring-do.

What I am looking for are strong role-players and storytellers who will thrive in a situation like this.

I'd like you to provide me with the below for a character:-

Name:
Age:
Race:
Class:
Alignment: Non-evil characters only please.
Personality:
Appearance:
Backstory:
RP Sample: During your adventuring career, you will have accomplished one notable act. That act can be anything you like, although it should be something particularly heroic.

I'm not particularly interested in character sheets at this time, however for when the time comes and the chosen are selected the basic parameters for character creation are as follows:

 
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Recruiting for: Voyage to the Edge of the World - an epic seabound voyage fraught with peril

Last edited by Nade; 02-09-2020 at 10:03 AM.
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Old 02-08-2020, 11:52 AM
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Recruiting for: Voyage to the Edge of the World - an epic seabound voyage fraught with peril
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Old 02-08-2020, 12:30 PM
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I hate you! You know that, right

One cursed siren coming up!
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Old 02-08-2020, 12:31 PM
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This sounds very interesting. I have a concept in mind that would fit very well into this game I think. I'll get an application up as soon as possible.
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Old 02-08-2020, 01:27 PM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Nade View Post
I'm not overly precious on the source, if you have something in mind run it past me. If I don't like it I'll say so.
I'm looking at the Lurker in the Deep warlock patron from this UA. Let me know if you have any issues.

Application
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Name: Cecelia vo'Narr
Age: 28
Race: Half-elf
Class: Warlock (Patron: Lurker in the Deep, Pact: Blade)
Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Personality: Cecelia likes to keep things in order, be it her ship, crew serving under her, or her own life. That isn't to say she is opposed to letting her hair down (literally) and having a little fun. But there is a time and a place for that sort of thing. When it comes to business, she is a no-nonsense kind of woman, sometimes viewed as stern, but always confident and dedicated. However, lately she has been plagued by doubts and uncertainty. The events of her last voyage have left her uneasy with the thought of returning to the deep seas... and what she might discover about herself out there.

Appearance: Tall and well-formed, but without the delicate features of her elven mother, Cecelia was at best called 'handsome' in her youth. An eye lost over a matter of honor and several years weathered by the ship-board life have given her a harder edge. She dresses as suits her chosen career, a sailor first before all other things. Her one surrender to vanity is her long, blonde hair which is kept pinned up neatly whenever she is on duty.

Backstory: Folk do not like to give it much heed. Particularly not people, such as myself, who ply the waves by way of a trade. But the ocean isn't our home. It is an entirely alien world, one not at all welcoming and quite often hostile when it comes down to it. Days from land in any direction, adrift on a chunk of wood that could only charitably be deemed a raft, I had a lot of time to think about that sort of thing. It had been three days... or had it been four? It was hard to tell. I had spent much of the time drifting in and out of consciousness. The storm had come from nowhere, raising waves towering above the highest yard-arms. The captain was screaming orders, incoherent against the howling gales and crashing waves. The other mates and I were struggling to keep the ship and the crew together. Then everything went dark.

When I came to, I was alone, somehow still alive. I don't know if I was the only survivor, but I never saw signs of another, nor any life boats or even wreckage. Between sun, thirst and a blow I had taken to my head, I was never quite sure where reality left off and my dreams began. Something stirred in the deeps, vast beyond comprehension, endlessly swimming through an even larger ocean. Gradually it became aware of a tiny speck floating far above. It was insignificantly small, lost among the infinite waves. A life, already staggeringly brief by any reasonable standard, hung in the balance, flickering over the edge of the abyss. At times I was the speck, at times I was watching myself from below. Somehow, an accord was reached. I do not remember, or I never knew the terms, but somehow I agreed to them all the same.

I stared upwards into the night sky. Slowly I became aware of the sensation of movement. Looking around revealed that I was no longer alone. I cannot name the creatures I saw, but they had slick, rubbery skin and no eyes, only faces filled with countless teeth. I assumed my end was upon me, but they made no move to attack me, seemingly content to swim. Towing my raft between them, they swam. Sleep reached up to take me into its arms once more and I fell back into its embrace. The next time I stirred to waking, I was greeted by the more familiar sight of a ship's hold. I was in the cabin of a merchantman bound for Baldur's Gate. Against all odds, I had been found adrift and rescued... leagues from anywhere my ship could have been, even accounting for the storm.

Over the next few days, and often since, a thought has gnawed at my mind. How long had that nameless entity been watching and waiting for me? Had it saved me or selected me? Had it brought me to that place, discarding those it deemed unnecessary?

RP Sample:It was the noise that first drew Cecelia's attention. She was walking back from the harbor, having turned down yet another job offer. They were coming in less frequently now that she'd been here for a few months. Word was getting around that it wasn't worth asking. Truth be told, she wasn't sure why she'd turned down this last one. Good ship, good crew, good captain. She was going to have to go back out there eventually, but something always stopped her just shy. But her own worries were temporarily pushed aside when she heard the shouting. She picked up the pace and turned a corner to find a scene lit by the tell-tale glow of burning wood. A growing crowd of people were gathered around, watching as flames ate away at the structure. It was probably a lost cause, but with the wind blowing in from the river, it wouldn't be long before the fire spread to another building, and then who could tell how far. Some people were standing around watching, some running around like headless chickens, but nobody was doing anything productive.

"Alright, you lot! Quit your gawping and get moving!" A firm, stentorian voice cut through the clamoring crowd and Cecelia was only mildly surprised that it was her own. Sailors, left to their own devices, were often a lazy lot. Life on board could get boring, and the jobs were repetitive and seemingly inconsequential. But once you stepped back and learned how it all fit together, you could see how important even the little tasks were. Leave them undone for too long and they built up. Let work pile up too long and things started to fall apart. Then there was more than could get done. So you did the little things, and kept doing them over and over. Like this fire, it was too big for anybody to fight. But there was a whole crowd of people, and she intended to put them to work.

"You, you and you! Bucket duty. Find 'em, grab 'em, steal 'em if you have to. Buckets. Barrels. Your granny's chamberpot. Anything that'll hold water." She picked three likely fellows from the mass of people. The first two started moving without thinking, happy just to have someone tell them what to do. The third looked like he was about to ask who the hell she thought she was, but with the other two already running, he didn't want to be the one who looked like he wasn't helping. She turned her attention to the rest of the crowd. "The rest of you, line up! There's a whole river of water waiting for us, we just gotta move it." She grabbed a couple of the bravest looking and placed them nearest the fire. Then she started moving down the line, shoving each person into a spacing that she thought would work. From the corner of her eye, she caught more than a few bodies slinking off into the night, uninterested in being useful. That was fine. If they weren't going to help, then she didn't want them under foot. Besides, more people were being attracted by the flames that were now reaching into the night sky. She dragooned them each as they arrived, fitting them into her line. By the time they made it to the river, the first runners started showing up with buckets. The chain took a while to find it's rhythm, and she kept moving up and down it's length, swapping out people as they began to flag or proved they weren't up to the task. Eventually once she felt things were operating more or less smoothly, she took up a position at the front, spelling for one of the first two in line. It was the hottest and dirtiest work, and she didn't want anybody to stay up there too long. Trading off was key to keeping people fresh.

The pale light of morning found her still there. Her voice hoarse from shouting and smoke. She was covered in soot and ash. But the fire was out except for a smoldering timber here or there. As she had thought, the first building had been a dead loss. Some kind of warehouse? It was reduced to a burned out husk. But on all sides the rest of the buildings stood untouched. She smiled to herself. Maybe nobody would understand exactly what they had accomplished. Someone had shown up and brow-beat these people until they came together as a team, putting out the fire together that the couldn't have touched alone. But they didn't save the building, so what was the point. Like sailors tarring the same ropes for the thirtieth time, maybe they thought it was all futile and pointless. But sometimes the little things were important, in the bigger picture

She passed among the few that remained until the last, thanking them and clapping them on the shoulders, then turned in place for a moment. The sun was coming up over the river and she could see light glinting off the water. Maybe it was time to go out there again. She missed it all.
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Last edited by hafrogman; 02-10-2020 at 01:30 PM.
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Old 02-08-2020, 01:41 PM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by hafrogman View Post
I'm looking at the Lurker in the Deep warlock patron from this UA. Let me know if you have any issues.
It’s thematically appropriate so I don’t see any problems with it.
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Recruiting for: Voyage to the Edge of the World - an epic seabound voyage fraught with peril

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Old 02-08-2020, 01:41 PM
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Oo I got so excited reading this Will get started on my app


ApplicationName: Igri
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Age: 41

Race: Half-Orc

Class: Ranger (Beastmaster)

Alignment: Lawful good

Personality: Warm and jolly, quick to make friends. Enjoys a good drink and having a hearty laugh. Wears her emotions on her sleeve. Will see the good in anyone, so can be gullible and susceptible to peer pressure. Will never leave anyone behind.

Appearance: Igri is tall and strongly built with broad shoulders and a thick neck. She has pale grey skin, her mess of hair just a shade darker sitting on her head like a discarded mop. She has a bulbous round nose and two prominent teeth extend from her lower jaw. She is accompanied by a rambunctious Herring Gull whom she calls Nak.

Backstory: Soldier. Igri left the human village she grew up in as soon as she was old enough and joined a travelling band of mercenaries. With them, she fought wars, hunted beasts, did whatever work their next contractor assigned - and she found the comradery in their diverse ranks that she had been so lacking in her childhood. Now she has risen in the ranks and commands a small company of men. They have split up while they await work and she has been killing time and scouring job boards in Baldur's Gate.

RP Sample:

On a raised outcropping overlooking a beach, a bulky Half-Orc sat and watched the inky black waves glimmer intermittently in the moonlight. She took a deep, satisfied breath of salty air and lightly stroked the soft white neck of the herring gull on her shoulder. Behind her, her small company of men were settling in for the night. They were on the last leg of their journey to Baldur’s Gate and things had been blessedly calm so far. The Half-Orc (who was named Igri after her mother), patted her belly, savouring the last vestiges of warmth from the ale she’d downed with her evening meal. The seagull (named Nak after his piercing cry) ruffled his feathers restlessly. As she turned to him, Igri saw his head cocked and tense, yellow eyes fixed on something she couldn’t see toward the ocean. With a squawk he erupted into flight, lightly buffeting her head with a broad wingbeat. She stood with a groan.

“What ye seen, Nak?”

As he glided away, Igri considered waking someone for backup. But her men were tired, and knowing Nak it was probably just some poor soul cooking a fish that the bird fancied for himself. With a grin to the soldier on first watch, she took off after the gull in long strides as he circled back impatiently so she could catch up.

No more than a half kilometre down the beach, she found the source of Nak’s interest. A small fishing boat lay broken on the edge of the water. It’s keel was broken in two, mast shattered against a rugged rock rising from the foam. And on the remains of its deck a large drag-net full of silvery fish spilled out onto the sand. Igri rolled her eyes at the gull who was still circling above the wreck.

“Yer too predictable, bird. What ye waitin for?”

As she approached the wreck it became clear that Nak was not the only one to have smelled an easy meal. Two mangy-looking wolves stood on the far side of the net, snapping and snarling as they tore at the fish. And behind them, cowering behind a piece of his ruined ship, was an old human man. His leg was twisted at an awkward angle and his wrinkled face was drenched with sweat, eyes following the wolves with terror.

“Oi, beasties!” Igri cried, drawing two short swords. The closest wolf whipped it’s head around and bared its fangs at the new threat. She bared her own formidable teeth in a grin and leapt forward with surprising grace, blades whistling through the air like an ocean breeze. Nak launched into a steep dive at her side, his beak making contact with the beast’s muzzle as his master slashed at it’s flanks. Their combined attack made the wolf yowl and stagger back into its companion, who growled in turn, jaws full of pilfered fish. It regarded the towering Half-Orc for just a moment before turning tail and scampering off down the beach with its prize. The injured wolf promptly lost its footing, clawing rabidly at the sand. Sheathing one of her swords, Igri used both hands to drive the other into its heart. The night fell quiet but for the soft rush of the waves and the ragged breathing of the human. Leaving one sword planted in the wolf, she walked over and held out a hand to the man, doing her best to look as non-threatening as possible. To her relief, he took it, heaving himself up onto his good leg and wincing as he adjusted his weight.

“You saved me…” he croaked. His voice crackled like a campfire. She handed him her waterskin.

“I’m Igri,” she said with a grin, “ ’n that’s Nak.” She gestured to the seagull, who was now sitting atop the fish pile and pecking at it happily. The man raised his eyebrows slightly.

“I’m Carver,” he replied, “I was on my way home – to Baldur’s Gate – but a storm…” he gazed despondently at the ruins of his ship. “It’s been days – how did you find me?”

“Oh eh, that’s Nak too. The bird kin practically smell trouble. When there’s summat in it for him o’ course!” She chuckled as Nak clacked his beak indignantly. “Luck ‘as it,” she continued, “we’re on our way to Baldur’s Gate ourselves – me & the comp’ny that is. We kin get ye there safe.” The man looked exhausted.

“I think my leg is broken,” he said.

“Think yer right,” Igri nodded. “Not t’ worry. Camp ain’t far.” With that she lifted Carver over her shoulder as gently as she could. He gave a grunt of surprise but didn’t protest, and the three made their way back along the sand.

Last edited by Small; 02-16-2020 at 06:35 AM. Reason: Finishing app
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Old 02-08-2020, 01:49 PM
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Old 02-08-2020, 03:54 PM
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BlurbKytaran Finuthin is a young Moon Elf bladesinger who, training under his master, has been tasked with tracking down and returning lost and stolen treasure that belongs to the elven people. After the death of his master he heard about the expedition Lady Lavinia Vanderboren was planning. Like other elves, he had heard the legends of one of his ancestors who was lost a millennia ago after sailing west, looking for this mythical land. Lost with him was the Note that the moonblade is just a McGuffin. I’m not expecting the story to involve Kytaran finding the moonblade, let alone using it.moonblade he carried. Hoping to retrieve this potent magical blade for his people and his family, Kytaran figured out a way to impress Lady Lavinia with his abilities, hoping she would offer him a place on her crew.


Application
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Name: Kytaran Finuthin

Age: 129 years old

Race: High-Elf (Moon-Elf)

Class: Fighter 1, Wizard 2 (Bladesinger)

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Background: Sailor

Personality: Kytaran is a self-confident elf that doesn’t mind taking charge of most situations, since he usually feels like he’s the most competent person around. He is a driven individual constantly trying to better himself, both as a person and as a bladesinger, knowing all too well that a complacent warrior will soon meet his demise. Although he is almost always polite and well-spoken, he has little patience for fools and rude people

Traits:
- I push myself to the limits to succeed and expect others to do the same. People unwilling to risk everything for success get little respect from me.
- I can’t abide rude and obnoxious people and try to avoid them if I can.
- I like humans and other short-lived races. They are constantly running out of time and it makes them seem so alive.

Ideal:
- Self-Improvement. The body and mind of a bladesinger are potent weapons that need to be honed to perfection.

Bond:
- Like most bladesingers I consider myself a servant of my race and will do almost anything to protect other elves and the interests of my kin everywhere.

Flaw:
- My pride in my abilities with spell and sword borders on being arrogant.

Appearance: Kytaran Finuthin is fairly tall for an elf at 5'7" and carries himself with uncommon grace. He has piercing green eyes and a handsome face framed by his long, brown hair . He is quite heavily tattooed, with patterns resembling the skin of a panther on his chest and arms, although they are usually hidden under his clothing. The tattoos are far more vivid than those done by human tattoo artists, with the deep yellow of the panther's fur actually done in multiple slightly different yellow colors, making it resemble the sleek fur of the actual animal.

Kytaran wears fine clothes, usually selecting blue and brown tones. He usually wears a stiff leather breastplate, arm-guards and shin guards under his clothing. The loose cut of his jacket and pants hide the fact that he's armored to those who don't know what to look for, but the armor makes him look somewhat bulky, for an elf. He is never seen without his thin-bladed sword hanging from his left hip.

Backstory:
 

RP Sample:
 
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Last edited by kymrel; 02-11-2020 at 04:22 PM.
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Old 02-08-2020, 06:45 PM
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Name: Jonas Hawkins

Age: 25

Race: Human (Variant)

Class: Rogue(Swashbuckler)-3
  • Personality Trait:I feel tremendous empathy for all who suffer.
    Live for the moment, it my be your last.
  • Ideal: I work hard and save. A ship and my own destiny is in my future.
  • Bond: If I had my druthers, I'd grind every last pirate to dust.
  • Flaw: I am if nothing an egotist- one day it will probably kill me.
Alignment: N

Personality: Jonas is people-oriented, seeking harmony with others. He's creative and the life of the party but he's better at starting things rather than finishing them.

Appearance: Standing at 5'8" Jonas is a lithe 128#. He has dark brown hair, hazel eyes and a fair complexion. He wears a blackened leather cuirass over his white tunic.

Backstory:
 


RP Sample:
 

Consequences: Instead of the Swift Dancer and a percentage of the loot, poor Jonas ended up with a commuted sentence for murder. If he ever stepped foot in Baldur's Gate, the sentence would be carried out. He then found his self and his belongings thrown aboard the Sea Wyvern. Evidently, he was much needed in a new land.

Last edited by MarsComulus; 02-17-2020 at 07:34 PM.
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Old 02-08-2020, 07:47 PM
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Application
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Name: Yojo
Age: 25
Race: Variant Human (Observant feat)
Class: Monk; Way of the Drunken Master
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Personality: With his bare-chested, muscular build, many tattoos and thousand-yard stare, Yojo can seem intimidating to those who first meet him, but it doesn’t take long for people to realise that he’s actually a very placid and friendly guy. Other than his outward appearance he has adapted well to “civilised” life, and enjoys the fruits (and grains) of civilisation, mostly in liquid form.

Appearance: At 5’9”, Yojo isn’t particularly tall, but he stands straight and proud, with what some would call a “regal” bearing, although Yojo would scoff at the idea, declaring no man should be considered better than any other unless determined so by skill. His tattoos have been gradually expanding over the years, with each new voyage adding a new flourish. His physique is impressive, although it isn’t the chiseled musculature of the vain, rather it’s the dense body of somebody used to both hard work and over-indulgence.

He walks with an arrhythmic gait, which some would attribute to inebriation but he would claim is more of an adaptation to the bucking and turning deck of an ocean-going ship.

Backstory: Somewhere in the vast oceans beyond Chult there is an archipelago of such beauty that even the hardest heart would weep. These islands of emerald forests set in a sapphire sea sparkle in the sun and are rich in game, fish and too many types of fruit to list. The people there are happy, carefree, and they settle their differences the honourable way; through single combat between chosen champions.

At least that’s how Yojo tells it now. When he first found himself in Baldur’s Gate some ten years earlier he would tell those who enquired of a savage place of volcanoes, cannibals and ferocious wildlife. A place beset by winds which could tear trees from the soil and carry them to the next island, where the very sea could rise up and swallow everything which man had built.

He didn’t usually tell people any specifics, but once or twice, in front of only those he felt closest to, he had revealed that it was in his fourteenth year, just as he was preparing for his Great Journey, that the ship had sailed into the bay of his island. The people on board had traded wonders like shiny tools and smooth cloth for fresh water and fruits, things which the People had in abundance. Yojo’s father had privately scoffed at their foolishness, declaring that if one of their traders could follow the newcomers back to their homeland he would return rich enough to choose whichever brides he desired.

Yojo had listened intently and formed his plan. He would embark on a great journey to dwarf even those of the legends. As the newcomers were preparing to leave he strode out to their little boat, spear in hand, and demanded they take him with them. With a shrug and a sad smile they had accepted and showed him how to work the (over-complicated it seemed to him at the time) oars. He had looked back as his island sank into the sea, not a regretful tear marring his countenance.

RP Sample:
The world was bigger than he had expected. Bigger, and fuller, and louder. He spent the first few years in a blur, learning the ropes as a deckhand on several small vessels, and although he made some fast friends and witnessed wonders he could never have imagined, he never really managed to make a mark. It wasn’t until he signed on to the Maiden’s Virtue, a ship which plied the oceans hunting leviathans and kraken, that he realised his place.

On these types of vessel the harpooner was a position of considerable prestige, and back home Yojo had learned to cast a spear at targets far smaller and quicker than their current quarry. He watched with growing excitement as the harpooners failed to penetrate the hide of the whale that they had been tracking. He could see the vulnerable spot just behind the skull of the beast. He knew he could hit it. But the harpooner snorted in derision and told Yojo to get back to rowing. The whale got away and the whole crew was despondent.

Three weeks later they came upon a kraken, a beast with an eye as big as their row boats and tentacles which could crush the Maiden into matchwood. This was a fight for their very lives.

The four boats all went out, each with a harpooner in the prow, and attempted to keep the tentacles from the Maiden. They slapped the waves with their oars, making as much noise as possible to keep the beast off-guard, while the harpooners stood ready to strike.

The first boat was swamped as a wave from the great beast took it broadside and the occupants frantically tried to bail water before another wave finished them. At the opposite side Yojo could see the tip of a tentacle had latched onto another boat and was shaking it around, sending the harpooner into the sea. Meanwhile the beast itself had grabbed onto the Maiden and was apparently trying to pierce the copper sheathing on the bottom of the boat with its beak. Suddenly lightning flashed, singeing some of the tentacles and the beast relaxed its grip a little, apparently the First Mate was retaliating with her own potent magic.

The battle carried on and Yojo was frustrated to see the harpooner on his boat miss shot after shot. The kraken had managed to pull its beak up above the waves and was cracking a hole in the side of the Maiden. Knowing that he could wait no longer, Yojo secured his oar and grabbed the last harpoon from the basket. He stood for a few seconds, feeling the rhythm of the ocean and the wind on his arms. He set himself, reached back, staring at the eye of the kraken which was peering out of the water.

The harpooner's shot had buried itself harmlessly in the flesh of the creature and he was reaching back for another harpoon, only now seeing Yojo standing there. Time seemed to slow, and Yojo was only vaguely aware of the harpooner reaching towards him as he let the explosive power carry through his body, from the ball of his foot all the way up to the tips of his fingers. The harpoon flew, wobbling ever so slightly as it went, upward, upward, and then down, straight down into the beast's eye.

Suddenly the kraken let go of the ship and thrashed around in the water. Yojo fell down into his seat as the waves caused his boat to dance around, but his eye never left the beast until it had dived far below. Suddenly everything was quiet again, even the sea had gone still, other than the quiet fizz as the foam settled.

The harpooner's look could have killed.

"I suppose you think you're clever," he snarled.
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Last edited by Lazer; 02-14-2020 at 03:31 PM.
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  #12  
Old 02-08-2020, 09:00 PM
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Interest, probably going to throw a wizard in here.
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  #13  
Old 02-09-2020, 08:46 AM
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Application, WIP
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Name: Third Prince Biil'Nezrimontarius Tistangoral Unchala yun Sondarta, Duke of the Infondine TrenchPrince Nezrim
Age: 36
Race: Triton
Class: Valor Bard
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Background: Courtier
  • Personality Trait: I am cool and reserved in all situations and feel it is shameful to display strong emotions openly.
  • Personality Trait: I am courteous to everyone, even my insults are veiled in layers of courtesy.
  • Ideal: Duty - I serve my companions and my Kingdom in the most effective way I can.
  • Bond: My first and dearest loyalty is to the Kingdom of the Western Deep, currently ruled by my elder brother.
  • Flaw: My reserved attitude can make others feel that I am flippant or aloof, there are those that believe not given their concerns due consideration.

Personality: Often seen as haughty and aloof, Prince Nezrim carries himself with all of the self-assuredness of one born to the upper nobility. The force of his presence can be hard to ignore, even when he is not trying to stand out. His natural nobility can make the triton seem cold to some people, but in fact Prince Nezrim has a wry if understated sense of humor.

Appearance: Prince Nezrim is barrel chested and imposing. Though his true stature is not actually that tall, standing little more than 5'5", his when he unfurls his great finned crest it adds considerable height and makes him quite an imposing figure. His body is covered in the markings of his house, the purple highlight marks accentuating his royal lineage. On land he typically wears more conservative clothing to fit in with the locals, though he does find the woolens and linens of the shorefolk to be itchy, so his clothing tends to be loose as to avoid too much direct contact with his skin.

BackstoryPrince Nezrim, as he is informally known, was born to the former King of the Western Deep and one of his lesser consorts. His youth was privileged but never comfortable, kept on his toes through the rigorous training all high ranking triton are expected to endure. As many of his race, he was expected to serve and protect the depths of the world from the forces of evil that could so easily claim it. Along with martial training Nezrim received an education in oratory, diplomacy and a variety of other courtly skills.

When he came of age, he was enrolled in military command training and received rank and position in the triton military. He served there with distinction for nearly a decade before being discharged back to the service of the crown, taking up a role in high court as a functionary to the king, his brother, who had succeeded their father after his death. When the Western Deep made contact with the shore folk, Prince Nezrim's high status, unflappable attitude and natural presence made him an obvious envoy to the noble houses, a dignitary who could be trusted to serve the purposes of the kingdom.

Since then he has been one of the lead diplomats of the kingdom, based in Baldur's Gate off the sword coast working out of a large manor house that serves as an informal triton embassy. He is frequently seen at the events of the Council of Four and other noble houses, often with a small crowd gathered around as he coolly exchanges urbane conversation with the elite of the city.

But so much time trapped on the shore has made his fins ache, he desires nothing more than to be back at sea, to feel the salt wash over him and to taste the brine. For some time he has been thinking about resigning his post, all he needs now is an opportunity.


RP Sample: WIP

Last edited by davide15; 02-10-2020 at 09:27 AM.
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  #14  
Old 02-09-2020, 10:05 AM
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I've added some brief details about Lavinia in the opening post. Feel free to use her in your characters backstories or RP Samples if you like as it is very likely that as far as the expedition goes she would also reach out to people she can trust - I will leave it up to you to decide to use her or not as you see fit.
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Old 02-09-2020, 10:10 AM
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Lovely, just what I needed for my RP sample. Quick question, is she planning on being on the expedition, or just financing it and getting the glory if we are successful?
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