[D&D-5e] Into the Heart of Decay

[Chaucer]

Game Name Into the Heart of Decay

Game System DnD 5e

Theme Fight for survival in a harsh world of gothic terror

Flavour Psychological Horror, Gothic Horror, Post Apocalyptic

Plot Summary And why fight it at all? Is it that you derive pleasure from this nothingness of an existence, trapped as you are in this decaying temple of flesh and bone? Is it that you seek a door into a world that you could never hope to understand and are truly not worthy of? ** Deep within the depths of the Shadowfell there lies a realm of dark dreams and darker nightmares. A Demiplane of Dread that spins its web across the multiverse, looking to draw the unwary in as a spider would seek to lure its prey into its web. Once ensnared there is no way out of this place. The Demiplane of Dread is a twisted echo of reality, a world that, as it seems to be both comfortable and familiar on the surface, hides it’s dark truth beneath this veneer of familiarity. At the core of this dark place lie the enigmatic entities known as the Dark Powers. Who or what these entities truly are has not been, and will likely never be answered. Yet these unseen creatures, be they made of flesh or made of spirit, sit at the heart of their demiplane and, like demented puppeteers, they dangle the strings of all who dwell within their dark, shadowy realm. The Dark Powers do not distinguish between good and evil. They do not differentiate between an innocent soul or a corrupted one. Each of them brings something tantalising, something truly delightful to these mysterious beings. For the former, there is nothing more delightful than the slow, lingering corruption of a soul that was once truly pure as it is broken and twisted until it becomes something truly unrecognisable and wholly evil. For the latter, for those who are truly lost, the Dark Powers delight in the eternal torture of the truly damned as they are reduced to nothing more than the playthings of those who call themselves master. There is no hiding from the Dark Powers. Irrespective of where a soul chooses to hide across the multiverse, it is not possible to escape the dark mists of Ravenloft should they come calling, ensnaring the unwary in an embrace there is no escape from….. ** The foreboding mists of Ravenloft open their clammy, sinister arms to the unwary traveller. Though you try to escape their cold embrace, it is not possible. The Demiplane of Dread plays its own games by its own rules. ** The dark mists of Ravenloft have captured their latest unwitting souls. It doesn’t matter which way you walk, every single direction looks the same as you are subsumed within their ethereal walls. You walk one way, then another. You chase shadows within the mist, and follow sounds that you hope will lead you to a way out from this claustrophobic, nightmarish realm of neverending grey nothingness. And yes, eventually the mists do recede, but the place they have taken you is like none you have ever seen before…. There is little that compares to the arid wasteland that lies before you. A desolate nightmarish place, the harsh winds cast the stinging dirt of the badlands into your eyes. In this case first appearances are exactly as they appear to be, and this broken wasteland is exactly that — a land that is rotting and decaying. A realm that is dying, yet is no less dangerous for its slow, lingering death. There are terrible terrible things here, twisted mockeries of beings that were once whole but have long since deteriorated into primal, bestial madness. Their keening screams pierce through all unfortunate enough to hear them, as theirs is the sound of a slow, creeping doom. Yes, a twist of fate has brought you here to this desolate and twisted landscape, where death rules over all along with the dreadful creatures that lie between the land and the sky, and the broken cities that lie dotted around the decaying landscape. Your task is simplicity itself, though it’s execution will be far from such. Survive long enough in this inhospitable wasteland, and you might, just might, uncover the truth of this dreadful place and the darklord that casts its shadow over it. Yet, the badlands where the twisted ones roam, and the cities where the worst recesses of humanity lie within will take a terrible terrible price in return for this survival. The questions that are asked are deceptively simple, yet their answers are not so — to what depths will you fall to ensure your own survival? Is survival worth your own morally grey actions to achieve? Is your continued existence worth the lives of others who will surely die in your stead? This is a dark land cast under the shadow of its hidden lord — one who watches the world go by silhouetted by the silver radiance of his god looking down upon him in the night sky. One who holds the land in the grip of an impenetrable wall of fire that turns all those who wish to cross into nothing more than burning ash. More than any other domain in the Demiplane of Dread, this is a land that is crying out for change. This is a land that is crying out for not only salvation, but redemption from the countless sins that have stained it forever in the blood of innocents. Will you be the bringers of that change, or the harbingers of its final death?

About the Game I feel that it is important in PbP games in general, and this game in particular, to set the expectation of what this game is, and what it is not. There are a lot of games advertised on the site that are traditional good vs evil fantasy romps where good will absolutely triumph over evil. This is absolutely not one of those games. This game from the outset will be very dark in tone, with the sort of unremitting bleakness that will rarely let up. There will be moments of humour and light in it, but they will be very few and far between to stave off the ever encroaching darkness. It will not be a game that is heavy on combat, in fact combat will only be used sparingly to push the story forward. This game will be very cerebral in nature and it will be very heavy. There will be some parts of it that are meant to be unsettling and it will ask some very difficult questions of you and your characters. As part of this game I will subvert some very common fantasy tropes and expectations and we will explore what it actually means to be a hero. Is your hero one who will look to do the greater good, even if that means doing some pretty questionable things to make sure that you survive long enough to action that greater good? Or will you do what you perceive to be the right thing irrespective of the personal cost? In this game there are no right and wrong answers. There is no black and white, just different shades of grey. For that reason, mechanics and party composition mean little to me in this game, I am more interested in deep and interesting characters. I am looking for mature storytellers and role players who can handle such a game, and if you are then I welcome you to the game with open arms. The expected post rate will be twice a week. One last thing, everything above notwithstanding, this will be a safe space for all so I would like you to, as part of your applications and in secret text to me give me a list of hard no’s as regards to horror within games. I think I’ve covered everything above that needs to be covered, but if there is anything you are not certain of then by all means let me know.

Application Criteria I will favour a traditional format for applications for this game. Please submit me an application in the following format: Name: Race: Variant Rules allowed, to be taken from the accepted sources below. Class: Alignment: Non-evil alignments only Age: Background: Personality Traits: Ideal: Bond: Flaw: Provide me with a bit more of an in-depth write-up on the following: Appearance (include picture): Personality: Backstory: RP Sample: Finally, in secret text to me could you provide me with one secret that your character knows, and one secret that they do not know. These can be absolutely anything you want them to be. When the game begins, starting level will be level 3. Acceptable Sources for the game are as follows: PHB, XgtE, Volo’s, SCAG, Van Richten’s Guide to Ravenloft.

[Chaucer]

Character	Player	Class	Finished?
Bretton Golden	Begon Ugo	Fighter (Battlemaster)	Y
Mason Ashford	Seekr34	Sorceror (Shadow Magic)	Y
Snow Denius	Togot	Necromancer	Y
Keres D'Veregen	Hal Hammerhand	Ranger (Beast Master)	Y
Belfaris	Delpinator	Bard (College of Whispers)	N
Ulorin "Grey" Hoth	Jasontheswift	Paladin (Oath of Vengeance)	Y
Walter Paleglow	Onward	Bard (College of Lore)	Y
Anaya Lurieth	O2CXt3	Paladin (Oath of Redemption)	Y
Lileah	JohnStone	Monk (Mercy)	N
Aramen Hograth	The Dark Star	Rogue (Swashbuckler)	Y
Katrinah	Jumil	Warlock (Archfey)	N
Artiya Rederni	Ysolde	Warlock (Celestial Pact)	Y
Bael Turath	Shula	Cleric (Death)	N
Doomguide Draco	Grouchy	Cleric (Grave)	Y
DeaCoN	FatherDondo	Barbarian/Warlock	Y
Tara Jardeth	Disaster Master	Cleric (Twilight)	Y

[SnakeOilCharmer]

Posting interest.

What's the deadline? Are you expecting the characters to be natives of this domain or swallowed by the mists?

[Chaucer]

No deadline as of yet, I will communicate closer to the time. I expect characters to be swallowed by the mists rather than be natives.

[Seekr34]

what level do we start at?

[Begon Ugo]

WIP Bretton Golden Name: Bretton Golden Race: Variant Human Class: Fighter: Battlemaster Alignment: Chaotic Good Age: 24 Background: Noble Personality Traits: I always strive to do the right thing, in every situation...as long as there is little risk, or discomfort. It would probably be better if I just donated money. Ideal: I am a good man. I may be indulgent and some would say even petulant, but I am a good man. If you think otherwise, just wait... I'll prove you wrong! Bond: I am loyal to my family. I know that, in their eyes, I am a disappointment. I always tell myself that I will make them proud but fate seems to say otherwise. Flaw: As I said earlier, I am my family's biggest disappointment. I offer no excuses, except to say that growing up the youngest son of a disinterested noble father certainly did not engrain discipline and respect into my character. We have all suffered as a result. Appearance (include picture): Bretton does not stand out in a crowd. He does not command attention nor does he particularly care to. Bretton stands approximately 5'8 and weighs, on a good day, 175lbs. He wears his golden highlighted brown hair cut short as he does not want to be bothered keeping it styled in some peacock manner. Bretton does not need the finer things in life, but let's be honest. Poor quality clothing is itchy and ill fitting, so Bretton likes his clothing a bit on the finer side, with a dash of color, preferably forest green and sky blue. Bretton likes to bandy about with his two scimitars, gifts from his mother at his sides. He has named them Fate and Destiny and carries them in jet black scabbards. Personality: Bretton is a good natured boy from a noble family that never really had time for him. As a result Bretton never learned the value of hard work and discipline. Bretton has become the king of the dilettantes. He has dabbled in this...dabbled in that...and mastered nothing. His family did try to steer him right but the only skill he did acquire is the ability to make excuses and blame others.   Backstory Bretton is the youngest son of a rich merchant family. The Golden company specializes in trade with the far east and Bretton's older brothers have been groomed to assume leadership positions in the company... leaving Bretton in the lurch. His parents have tried to indulge the boy... now man... anything to ignite a spark that would fuel his ambitions. It was a waste of time. While Bretton excelled at the weapons tutoring that he obliged to undergo, his real love was conspiracy theories, unsolved mysteries and magic. His dear mother thought that perhaps, Bretton could embrace the bookish existence of a magical dabbler... perhaps with time he could even acquire real skill. It was not to be... the long treatise on arcane matters just gave him headaches, and his attention span was not much better than a child's. Causing his parents and the rest of the family unending stress, Bretton slipped away in the night, intent on finding adventure on the road. As was his norm, Bretton was woefully unprepared and ignorant...   RP Sample Bretton swung open the door to the Tea Kettle Tavern and sauntered in. He believed himself to be quite the sight in his fine chainmail and he happily noticed how the candle light reflected off of his armor. He had been told that this ramshackle bar was the place to go if you were in need of some excitement and so here he was. Leaving home had been easy for Bretton. He knew his loving parents had been counting the days until he was no longer there to disappoint them any longer. Of course they never said this...but Bretton was not blind. It was in the sideways glances and words not said that told the story. Bretton had left in the middle of the night and he did not look back. He would prove them wrong...he would prove everyone wrong. Bretton scanned the clientele in the tavern and found it wanting. He may have left his well-heeled lifestyle behind but Bretton had brought with him his appreciation for the finer things in life. This motley crowd certainly did not fit the bill. Bretton stalked his way to the bar, his twin scimitars, Fate and Destiny swinging at his side. Bretton watched with interest as an extremely tall hooded figure made his way to the bar. Bretton would not admit to being intimidated but the man was an impressive sight. Bah...big men always rely on brute strength. I could probably cut him down in one or two moves. Bretton thought to himself as he sized up the stranger. Bretton stood there at the bar lost in his thoughts, envisioning the myriad of ways he could defeat the man. Visions of Destiny and Fate working in tandem to slice and parry danced in his head and he hardly noticed that he was staring uncomfortably long at the man. Quickly coming to his senses, and hoping that no one noticed his lapse, Bretton coughed deliberately and also threw some money on the bar. "I'll have some of the same...whatever he is having." Bretton mumbled as he felt his face start to flush.

[Chaucer]

@Seeker34 you will start at level 3.

@Begon Ugo, by all means go ahead. Although I’ve deliberately not named the starting location here to maintain a sense of mystery, particularly for those who have read VRGTR, I can absolutely confirm that this game has nothing to do with Barovia or Strahd so there’s nothing here that will be spoiled for you DM’ing it

[Hal Hammerhand]

Oooh, Ravenloft game! I would really like to play in a Ravenloft game and have applied to another but if I don't get chosen I would very much like to try to whip up a good app for this one, as well. Interested but I must know if I make it into the other one.

[Seekr34]

Name: Mason Ashford
Race: Dhampir
Class: Sorcerer - Sorcerous Origin: Shadow Magic
Alignment: CN
Age: 40 (looks at least 20)
Background: Sage - Specialty: Researcher
Personality Traits: I've read every book in the world’s greatest libraries—or I like to boast that I have.
Ideal: The path to power and self-improvement is through knowledge.
Bond: My life’s work is a series o f tomes related to a specific field of lore.
Flaw: Most people scream and run when they see a demon. I stop and take notes on its anatomy.
Appearance: Standing at 6 feet even, medium build, he looks like a very handsome young human male. Sandy hair down to his mid neck with a matching goatee and green eyes. He is dressed in black leather, with a bow at his back and a dagger sheathed at each thigh.

Personality: He's a Moody person, sometimes he seems easy going and friendly, other times he's quiet. When he is busy, or his mind is elsewhere, he seems like one of the guys, but during quiet times, it gives him time to think of his life and he becomes quiet, not really wanting to be bothered.
Backstory:

 

She woke up in cold sweat, although she felt warm. Her window was open again and she looked under the sheet, she was naked again as well. She couldn't understand what was going on. Rachel was afraid to tell anyone, she heard the stories. Women being seduced during the night in their dreams. She got up, shut the window and looked into the mirror and found couple of small cuts on her neck. Now she was terrified, she heard of vampires but who would she know that could be one? Her family were not close by, they were home, the only one she knew she could trust here in college, was her professor. The next day after class, she approached him.

"Professor, I think I am in trouble." she says as she lightly bit her lip.
He turned to her from his books. "Nonsense, you will do well on the test, you have the potential to be the best scholar of the class." he smiled at her.

"Nnn no,nothing about the class, it's..."
"Well my dear, spit it out." he smiled at her, putting her at ease, making her feel warm and fuzzy each time he smiles at her.
"It's this." she took off her scarf and showed him her neck.
He stood up and looked at the neck and his eyes on hers. "I see..." his hand roamed to her belly and slowly moving up. Any other time, she would refuse the advances, but she was memorized by him each time he stared onto her eyes, so charming and so nice to her. She felt his hand softly cupping her breast and find herself kissing him passionately....

Rachel woke up middle of the night, a bit sweating but warm feeling but very tired as well. She noticed her window was open again, as well as being naked under the sheets. Scared and confused, she doesn't sleep in the nude and always has her window closed but it’s been 7 weeks now. She gotten up to close it and walked by her mirror. She noticed her neck's cuts, they looked fresh. Strange, she put on her nightgown and seemed a bit tight. She went back to the mirror and stared open mouthed in shock. Her belly had swelled. How, she thought? She hasn't been with anyone. She was really frightened now. She told her professor, scared and not wanting others to know her condition because she had no answer. Once again, with a charming smile, he put her at ease, talked her into staying with him at his home, he would tutor her at his mansion and his servants would wait on her while he was out during the day, teaching classes. Her belly swelled with the coming months and during her eighth month, Professor Warrick had an emergency and had to leave town for a few weeks.

A month later she gave birth to a healthy boy, and she saw no choice but to quit her studies and go home. She written to her sister about her situation and had her promise not say anything until she found out how she had become pregnant. It was two days before her sister would arrive and take her home when the Professor came back, he appeared in her room.

"I’m heading home professor, I need to take care of my child."
"Forget about the child my dear, I have better plans for you.”
"What? but, I can’t just leave him, and I don’t even know how I was impregnated.” She always felt concerned about him always but yet, at the same time, she felt safe with him. It was just a weird mixed feeling.

"Because my dear, I am the father and you and I will live forever as lovers. Do not worry about the child." He turned around to face her with a smile as he looked into her eyes. She felt frozen as he leaned down, his teeth pointed and sharp. She screamed as he bit into her and fell into a pleasant dream...

Mason’s aunt Robyn had come, finding her sister gone without a trace. She learned of a baby was sent to the orphanage and she went there, and they put Mason in her arms. The babe looked like his mother, but no one seem to know what happened to her. Robyn then went to look for the professor that Rachel wrote about, but he disappeared without a trace as well. So the young lady took the baby home with her and tell her family the terrible news.
The family was well to do, well, more than well. They were a well known established noble family. The next two years, life had gone well for the baby boy, being well taken care of. However, a month before his second birthday, things changed. The boy would bite into flesh to eat, a person, pet, didn’t matter. He seemed to like raw meat as well. They took him to the doctor and a priest was there as well. The boy was upset at what was going on and his fangs came out bit the doctor’s hand.
The priest had heard rumors of dhampir existing but didn’t believe the stories, but after seeing Mason, he was now a believer. Needless to say, the Ashford family didn’t want him and gave him a different name, the father was not going to have his family name tarnished.. The priest took the child and traveled far to a home for misfit children. The priest could not bear to harm an innocent and thought the home would be best for it had all types of unwanted children, half-elves, half-orcs, and other types. So he dropped the boy off and mistakenly given the boy’s real name.

As he grew up, he slowly began to control his urges, not showing his fangs, especially when his emptions ran high. In his late teens, with better control of himself, the home sent him to collage to better his life. He quickly devoted all his time studying. Mostly magic and the undead. He wanted to know how a vampire could impregnant the living, plus he was always fascinated with magic when he was able to conjure a bit of magic himself. It was on the day he traveled with his friend, Ghuan, a half surface elf, and half drow. They were in a cave during a heavy downpour when Mason saw something move and Ghuan asked how he could see that far. Mason then realized that his darkvision was twice as far as it used to be.
He would stay at the college for five years and he had to leave and look for another school. There were people buzzing about him, looking so young while others were aging. It was different for some races like elves, but he looked totally human. He couldn’t even pass for a half-elf. So he would spent years at one school, then leave to register at another. Ghuan would join him, they were close as brothers could be. He never did find out about his family. He had been told his mother was dead and his murderous father had disappeared. He had grown to hate the undead, especially vampires.
The last city he and Ghuan had went to was Greyhawk. What a mighty city it was. Besides school, on occasion, they would join other adventurers to gain riches and artifacts. Mason had taken to history besides magic. They were in the deep in the sewers with three others. Halor and Talor, they were twins, human fighters. Then there was Lissa, an half-elven cleric. Then Ghuan, the thief, and Mason, providing magic. All the bases were covered, but they lacked luck and skill. While they did alright, at first, taking care of various creatures and bandits, they came upon the drow. Talor was killed, Ghuan, though, the drow slaughtered, they had wounded Lissa and taken her captive. Mason was out of spells, so he went to his last resort. His incisors came out and he jumped on the wall in the tunnels. The drow were obviously surprised and backed away. Halor, already in deep distraught over his brother’s death, then seeing Ghuan and Lissa fall, thinking Lissa dead as well, but when he saw Mason baring his fangs and scoot up the wall, the poor man lost his mind and ran for the exit. Speaking of exit, there seem to be another tunnel high above and Mason made his way to it and escaped, finding a manhole. He sought out a guard and told them what happened. He called Mason an idiot for going down there and even though they will look, the odds are, the drow will be gone with their captive.
He had gone back to school and stayed. He had enough of adventuring. Lissa was still on his mind, he knew he couldn’t have done anything to save her, but he still felt guilty in leaving her. Of course, there was Ghuan, they were close, he could trust the elf with his life. Now he was alone.

Roleplay Sample:

 

Mason eventually found Halor, the man was not the same. He was at the inn, drinking the night away, looking half the man he once was. Mason sat at the table and joined him. Halor looked up and his eyes went wild.
“You! Get away from me!”
“Easy Hal, it’s me, Mason.”
“Vampire!” Halor yelled to him.
“Shh, you fool, I’m a not a vampire, otherwise the sun would have killed me long ago, think man, think!”
“But I saw…your fangs, you…climbed the walls.”
“Yes, I did, it’s a story itself, but think, if I was a vampire, the time we were out in the sun, I would be dead already.”
Halor didn’t say anything and he started drinking again. Mason shook his head and left the man. The next morning he had his things and left the city, it was time. If he stayed any longer, he would create an unwanted attention. He was now forty years old, but he looked barely twenty. He didn’t know how long he would live or begin to show his age. All the researching he done on dhampir, no one seem to know how long they lived. Some information said a thousand years, while others said they were immortal. He couldn’t see living forever, how would that feel? Whatever friends he would make, he would see them die off. Even a thousand years was long, very long. He could live with the elves, but he couldn’t see himself living in the forest all that time. He wasn’t sure if the elves would accept him anyway. Beyond a few years, they would wonder why he wasn’t aging like other humans. What would he say? No, he was alone and that’s the way life has played it out for him. If he ever came across a vampire, especially that professor, that took his mother, he would take great delight in killing him.

In secret text to me, provide me with one secret that your character knows, and one secret that they do not know. These can be absolutely anything you want them to be:

[Togot]

Name: Snow Denius
Race: Half-elf
Class: Wizard/necromancer
Background: Sage
Alignment: lawful neutral
Age: 23
Personality trait:
1 I am quiet and keep to myself
2 i burn with a quiet smoldering anger that I fear will one day consume me.
Ideal: Vengeance. Those who harm the innocent must be punished
Bond: I sold my soul for knowledge. I hope to do great deeds with it and win it back
Flaw: My hatred blinds me and causes me to make unwise choices

Appearance: Snow is an albino with white skin, long white hair, and red eyes. He is tall, six foot one, but very slender. He has a grim expression and rarely smiles. He wears black leather decorated with various bones, and carries a war scythe that looks to be made out of bone for when he needs to get his hands dirty.

Personality: Snow is a quiet, reserved person who rarely smiles and almost never laughs. He is tunnel visioned on getting stronger to enact his revenge on his elven relatives and Is frustrated by anything that distracts him from furthering that goal. He is slow to trust new people, but once someone has proven themselves a friend to him, he is fiercely loyal to them.

Despite all his anger, Snow still has a kind heart for innocent people and will go out of his way to help others if he can. He doesn't want anyone else to suffer like he has, other than the snow elves. He is also very fond of animals and treats his zombie rat familiar like a living creature.

When it comes to anything other than his kin, Snow is calm and rational, even when being insulted or discriminated against. He simple doesn't think anything that isn't a snow elf is worth his anger.

Backstory:
Snow’s elven mother Tityanna Torsonna was from a tribe of elves who were extreme isolationists, xenophobes, and down right racist against all other races, especially humans. They lived in the cold north and survived mostly by hunting and fishing. Despite their hatred for the outside world, they did let a handful of merchants come to their frozen island to trade things that the snow elves couldn’t get themselves such as metal, fruits, and vegetables. Snows Father, Cairn Denius was one such merchant. His parents met and found each other enticingly exotic, and became lovers. When Tityanna discovered she was pregnant, she eloped with Cairn and fled her people, for they would murder her for laying with a human, and the child for being an abomination that tainted their pure bloodline.

The pair settled in a coastal village where Tityanna fished, and Cairn continued his work as a merchant. They made good money and lived comfortably. Unfortunately, Snow had a much harder time of it. Being not only an elf, but an albino, he was treated as a pariah by the other villagers and made few friends. This made him grow into a sad, lonely introvert.

Then they came.

The snow elves arrived in the village having heard rumors of one of their kind living there. They threatened to kill everyone in the village if they didn’t hand her over. To save the villagers, and Snow and her husband, Tityanna surrendered herself and was taken away. She told Snow and Cairn not to worry, that she would talk things over with her father. Even Snow knew this was a lie to make them feel better. His mother had often told him of how wicked her people were. She always told him to hide if he ever saw one, for they would kill him on sight.

Two weeks later, the elves returned. Cairn’s father went to meet with them, hoping desperately that his wife was with them, and she was…some of her anyway.

In his grief stricken anger, Cairn attacked the elves and was swiftly cut down, leaving Snow an orphan.

Snow watched the scene play out while hiding. He saw the sneering grins on the snow elves’ faces, and it lit a flame of hatred in him that never went out. He swore revenge against the snow elves. He would make them pay. He would wipe their race from existence for what they had done.

He took his inheritance and enrolled in a mages college to study magic. Like his mother, he had an affinity for magic, but there was one school he was especially proficient at, and fittingly enough it was the very school he most wanted to learn, for among his mothers stories of the snow elves, she had told him that there was one school of magic they hated. Necromancy.

Snow knew that to wipe out an entire race, he would need an army. Being not only a commoner, but a halfbreed who was not wealthy, there was no way for Snow to get an army of the living, but an army of the dead was doable.

While at the college, Snow made few friends, but one very unpleasant enemy. Darien Jakas was the son of a noble, and a vicious, cruel, entitled young man who took every opportunity to insult Snow. Snow paid him little mind, unwilling to waste his hatred and anger on anything other than the snow elves. His tunnel vision would cost him dearly, for necromancy was forbidden in the college and Snow taught himself in secret. He managed to animate a rat which he kept as a pet, but one day one of the masters barged into his room while his rat was out. At first Snow was confused as to the reason for the intrusion, but when he saw Darien standing in the hallway sneering at him, he understood. Somehow the human had learned of the rat and reported him.

Snow was expelled from the college and supported himself as an adventurer while continuing to study as best he could. He helped those who needed it, and killed those who deserved it, and along the way he gained a small reputation that drew the attention of his kin. it wasn't long before they sent assassins after him. rather than be afraid, he welcomed the chance to kill his cousins, for never did he lose sight of his ultimate goal. He would kill them. He would kill them all.

 

I stared out the window at the hostile group of snow elves standing in the pale light of the full moon in the town of Gailmont. I had known it would only be a matter of time before they learned of me. I hadn’t exactly been hiding, and an albino elf draws attention. I had hoped to have some undead under my command before I waged my war, but I was out of time. The racist, murdering bastards had found me, as I knew they eventually would.

They called for me to come out and be cleansed from their precious pure bloodline. They called me filth, an abomination, a half- breed, an afront, but the one that made my blood boil was when they called me the son of a whore. Insulting me was one thing, but this filth dared to insult my beloved mother who they had murdered. For that I would give them horror and death.

First, I cast mage armor on myself in preparation for the fight to come. Then, I cast fog cloud, a simple first level spell that did exactly what it said. It obscured the vision of those inside, but also concealed. The fools mistook my opening as an attempt to flee. Third I cast flaming sphere right in the middle of them.

They screamed in pain and surprise, and I wasted no time casting my next spell, ray of sickness. It hit the assassin nearest to me, causing him scream before he collapsed choking on his own vomit. It was music to my ears. Next I cast toll the dead on one of those who had been burned, and the sound of dolorous bells joined the screaming as their death knell.

The elves recovered and rushed at my house. One tried to kick the door in, another went for a window. I moved my flames to pin the one at the door and burn him while I cast magic missile at the one coming through the window. They screamed, they cursed me, and they died. Their arrogant pride wouldn’t permit them to flee from me. I almost admired them for that, if it wasn't driven by such disgusting prejudice. They hated me so much just for being born that they would rather die than admit defeat to a half-breed. When there was only one left, I cast ray of enfeeblement on him, sapping his strength until he collapsed. I dispelled the fog and stood over him as he was forced to kneel before me. He told me that they’d get me eventually. That it was only a matter of time. I looked him right in the eyes and replied, “Not if I kill you all first.”

I moved the flaming sphere on top of him and burned him alive. I stared into his eyes as they filled with horror and pain, until the light left them. I never looked away. I never blinked.

[Hal Hammerhand]

WIP: Name: Str 16, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 8, Wis10, Cha 8Keres D'Veregen Race: Human (Variant) Class: Ranger (Beast Master) Alignment: Chaotic Good Age: 25 years old Background: Soldier (Calvary/Scout) Personality Traits: -His nights are haunted by the memories of war, he can't seem to escape them. -He likes to face problems head on, A simple, straight-forward solution is the best path to success. Ideal: -Independence: When people follow orders blindly, they embrace a kind of tyranny. (Chaotic) Bond: -He sacrificed his life and inadvertently the lives of others for the one he loved and he would do it again. Flaw: -He made a strategic error in battle that cost the lives of his comrades and possibly the kingdom. Appearance: Keres is a tall man, broad in the shoulders and somewhat narrow at the hip with long black hair draping from right to left over the horrible scars that cover the left side of his face and some of his shoulder. The eye on his left side is milky white and useless but the other is a piercing ice-blue. His flesh is ruddy and scarred in places from being a soldier and fighting in several skirmishes. His facial features are otherwise hawk-like in shape, a trait of royal blood in his home city. He wears chainmail armor that is well-worn, the leather shoulderpad on the left side is missing but the straps that once held it on are shriveled and black. He carries a spear shod with iron at the butt-end of the strong wooden haft with a narrow, sharp tip at the other end as well as a heavy mace with a heavy steel flange head that hangs in a loop on his belt. He rides a sleek, muscular mare with a bay coat and wild dark brown mane and tail with a white streak down her face that he named Morninglight. Keres raised her from a foal, after assisting with the birth exactly at dawn, in the 'morning light'. Upon the plain leather saddle hangs Keres' longbow and quiver of arrows. Personality: Keres is young and hot-headed, somewhat naive but when he sets his eyes upon something he wants, he knows he is going to have to fight if he really wants it. This is a quality of his destitute upbringing as the son of a serving girl. He often leaps before he looks but oftentimes, his well-honed abilities and determination are enough to see him through. He can come off as somewhat aloof or arrogant when concerning his own skills, seeing his training as an Elite soldier something to be proud of despite the somewhat hopeless purpose of his profession. Backstory:   In the Kingdom of Palisade, the difference between a prince and a pauper isn't the royal blood that runs through his veins but the loins from which he crawls. This was so for the boy named Keres. He was the son of a servant in the castle of King Utheron D'Veregen and his wife, Queen Calanthe . It was the worst kept secret in the kingdom that the king would take his moods when he lusted after the flesh of women and his appetite was often insatiable. His moods would start late at night in the dining hall and he would have his way with whatever serving girl just happened to be nearby and his moods wouldn't end until long after he had left the queen's bedchambers and found several more women to pilfer of their virtues, for who could say 'no' to the king without suffering the consequences. It was rumored that Illyiana was the last servant left in the kitchen one early morning after everyone else had gone to bed and the King shouted for one more mug of ale. His mood took hold and nine months later, despite not having a husband Illyiana had a child. Now, despite her light colored hair and common features, her son, Keres had dark hair and hawk-like features much like King Utheron. It didn't take long nor very much debate for Queen Calanthe to realize her husband had sired this child. While the Queen couldn't justly do anything about the situation at the moment, she was cold and calculating, patient like a viper until she decided to strike. Being the bastard son of the King earned Keres nothing in the way of easy living. As a child, he helped wherever he was able to in the castle but was scorned harshly by the Queen whenever he would fumble or make mistakes. This hard upbringing did not dampen his spirit, the fire that ran through the royal blood in his veins often got him in more trouble as he would lash back at anyone who rebuffed him. He always felt the punishment should fit the crime and spilling the Queen's wine glass wasn't deserving of a beating. In his teenage years, he willingly confined himself to the stables and the smithy's hut within the castle walls but well away from the chambers and hallways where the Queen wandered. He found a deep passion when it came to caring for the horses and hounds that were kept in the stables and when his anger would flare, there was nothing better for calming him down than the rhythm of hammering out a few horseshoes. Despite being somewhat removed from the castle, his occasional brush with the Queen whenever she needed a horse to ride or a hound for her casual hunting forays, was more than enough to get his hackles up and it seemed she would make some excuse to be in the stables nearly every day. The stable had a surplus of horseshoes most days until one of the King's mares was foaled and Keres helped bring Morninglight into the world. The little foal was a balm to Keres' fits of anger where he would get lost in grooming her. It was in Keres' mid-teenage years that King Utheron became mysteriously ill and eventually died. This put Queen Calanthe in a prime position to finally strike out at Keres in revenge against her late husband's infidelity and as fate would have it, the perfect opportunity presented itself. The countryside was struck with a terrible disease that infected commoner and nobility alike, turning them into ravening humanoid creatures that seemed to hunger for human flesh and were very hard to kill. The opposing army of 'undead' grew in size rather slowly as it started at the farthest four corners of the kingdom and shambled towards the main city of Palisade like a dark wave of pestilence. Queen Calanthe acted quickly once she realized how dire the situation was, ordering the formation of a special group. It was thought that specially trained soldiers, with knowledge of how to kill the undead enemies, magical assistance, weapon training and mounted capabilities combined, they could destroy the smaller swarms as far away from the kingdom as possible and stop them from gathering together, the kingdom might stand a chance. Unfortunately, against such odds, death was more than likely than anything else, thusly naming the small legion of horseback rangers the Dead Riders. Nobody signed up for the Dead Riders themselves as everyone knew the true outcome of anyone who joined, The members were the castoff, exiled and unwanted ones and this is where Queen Calanthe felt Keres belonged. Finally, it was time for her to strike. Illyiana was beside herself when the Queen proclaimed that Keres would join the legion of Dead Riders. Keres' mother felt that the Queen would have been more merciful to have sentenced the boy to death but that was not to be the way of things. Keres saw this as a chance to finally be away from the Queen and her constant, near-daily nagging and picking. For this act of bravery and selflessness, his mother told him of his true father and bade him to use the royal name for he had earned it. When he had gathered his things and readied Morninglight, he went to the castle square where he would say his vows of final servitude to the Dead Riders. It was a sad day for some but among the small group of new recruits, one stood out, A red-haired young woman with her head held high., Keres was struck immediately by her very attitude, falling in love and when he said his vows of fealty to the death for the Queen and Kingdom, Keres knew he would not be able to keep his vows. As the recruits rode out to the training grounds, Keres rode beside the young woman and talked to her, learning that her name was Voletta and listening to anything she would tell him. The next few years of training, from the time Keres was sixteen summers to the time he was twenty, Voletta and him grew very close despite the fact they had sworn against attachments for the sake of the Kingdom. He learned that Voletta was from the highlands north of the Kingdom and her village had fallen prey to the terrible disease but she had fled to Palisade and someday hoped to return to the north and liberate her village. After his training, they both rode out alongside the rest of their regiment, ten in total first to the south and after the hard fought battle that reduced the number of the regiment to six, they rode to the west, losing one more Dead Rider to the horde there before riding to the North. This is where things really started to go wrong. RP Sample:   Keres and Voletta rode through the abandoned northern village alongside their three other comrades to where a small contingent of the Queen's footsoldiers held a weak-looking barricade against an army of slowly encroaching undead. The footsoldiers fired arrows into the mass of churning bodies to little effect. The commander of the Dead Riders starting shouting orders and several soldiers broke off to start building a secondary barricade further back. If the first barricade broke, they would set this second one alight and the fire would ultimately keep the undead at bay until it broke through and so on until the swarm was effectively wiped out. The secondary barricade was doused in oil and pitch as it was being built hurriedly. Just as the barricade was being finished, the first one was overwhelmed, several soldiers falling under the mass of crawling undead. Voletta, Keres and the other two Dead Riders charged forward, fighting with their spears at first to push the enemy back, giving the footsoldiers time to draw back behind the second barricade. The swarm moved and coalesced around the riders, quickly separating each of them. Keres jammed his spear hard into the chest of an undead and couldn't draw it free fast enough so he drew out his mace and started smashing heads, as he wheeled Morninglight about to try to stay out of the grasping hands but this only got him farther and farther away from Voletta and the others. He called over the din and groaning of the battle, "Voletta, circle around and form up behind the barricade!" she didn't look up as she also wheeled her white stallion, farther and farther away. Eventually, Keres could linger no longer and with the footsoldiers finally crawling over the barricade, he spun Morninglight and pushed her hard around the buildings and circled around behind the secondary barricade to join up with the others. As he turned and circled Morninglight around the obstacles in the village, he lost sight of the main thick of battle and sight of the other Dead Riders. When he finally joined up with the others behind the barricade and they set it alight, Keres immediately realized that Voletta wasn't with the others. He wheeled his Morninglight and looked through the flames of the barricade then yelled to his commander, "Where is Voletta!?" The commander, a hard man gave Keres an even harder look, one of grim resignation and one that he had seen every time the Dead Riders lost another, "May the wind be at her back as she rides through the grasslands of the Underworld!" he said the only prayer the Dead Riders used. This wasn't what Keres wanted to hear. Keres gritted his teeth and wheeled Morninglight as he turned her towards the burning barricade, "I'll not let her die!" he shouted, tears welling in his eyes then spurred his horse forward, bolstering her through his mental connection to the valiant steed. With his mace raised high, he bounced as Morninglight cleared the inferno of the barricade and toppled into the swarm of undead. His left shoulderpad caught a spark from the popping pitch and caught fire, burning his face and searing his eye then proceeded to heat the chainmail beneath the leather and burn the flesh. He didn't hear or feel anything but the wet clash of his mace meeting skull after skull of undead as he pushed Morninglight through the morass. When the fighting was finally cleared and the last undead lay motionless upon the ground, Keres spotted the bodies of his commander and the other two Dead Riders but he didn't see Voletta anywhere. He had lost everything but his life in this senseless quest to save the kingdom, If only he had lost his life, he would not have felt the pain of losing the one person he still loved.

[Hal Hammerhand]

What kind of stats are we using just so I have a ballpark of my intended character's capabilities?

And starting funds?

One of my first thoughts that I want to utilize is a warrior that relies on a horse in combat. Mounted combat. I just wanna know if we have the funds and such to pull that off.

[delpinator]

belfaris Name:belfaris Race: tiefling Class:whispers bard Alignment: cg Age:20 Background:noble Personality Traits:The common folk love me for my kindness and generosity. My favor, once lost, is lost forever. Ideal: Independence. I must prove that I can handle myself without the coddling of my family. Bond:The common folk must see me as a hero of the people. Flaw: I secretly believe that everyone is beneath me. Appearance (include picture): in dark leather armor stands a devilish bard. His nobility seen for all. He wears a rapier of a fine gentleman alongside his musical equipment. Personality: a man of the people for the people by the people. This is where his heart lies not amongst the evils of the darklords. Though born a noble birth he has always felt a kinship with the people though by birth being above them in morality and authority. He is friends to those who are friends in return though cross him and you'll wish you were dead. He'd still rather be friends though. Backstory: born in waterdeep his family traveled as distinguished royalty in Neverwinter. Ashmadai attempted to recruit him though seeing the acts being done and their association with his devilish heritage. He did find the harpers though and learned to infiltrate and help people though his words. Navigating the royal courts with the help of the harpers he learned magical secrets and various skills while assisting the people of Neverwinter and keeping the thugs from controlling commerce. RP Sample: "Greetings lady Larentansel I assume your adventures went well did you find any interesting among the barbarians?" "Well things are certainly different when you choose to ignore civilized life. " "I would assume so" belfaris sits down his tail gently wrapping around his leg. "Come have a seat. Gabriel please pour some wine for the both of us." "Yes master" he then leaves to gather the bottle. With the room empty "were you able to meet our contract? " "Yes, they were able to take the directive." "Good then let's discuss the finner points of civilized life. " Gabriel comes back and pours the wine belfaris hands Gabriel a note before Gabriel then leaves to accomplish other tasks.

[Tiger Basilisk]

Edit: I am withdrawing my application from this game. Anyone else is welcome to occupy this character type. I would like reading the game when it begins, though.

Previous: I shall try my hand at this, too. A dark game that wears down the soul needs at least one happy-go-lucky character to ruin, so I will begin building my character along those lines.

[Jasontheswift]

Application Name: Ulorin "Grey" Hoth Race: Half-Elf Class: of vengeancePaladin Age: 23 Alignment: Lawful Good Appearance:     Ulorin stands at an even 6ft tall he is tanned from years of outdoor living and has a large masculine framed body. His hair is pulled back into a low ponytail which reveals the many grey streaks in his black hair. He is unshaven and carries a steely glare through his bright blue eyes, his elven heritage is shown through his angular jaw and pointed ears but his strong nose, large cheeks and wide brow show his distinct mixed blood. An extremely noticeable feature on Ulorin's face a long scar that stretches from his hairline too just above his jaw, the origin of which he doesn't speak of. Background: Haunted One Harrowing Event: A monster that slaughtered dozens of innocent people spared your life, and you don't know why. Personality Trait: I like to read and memorize poetry. It keeps me calm and brings me fleeting moments of happiness. Ideal: I kill monsters to make the world a safer place, and to exorcise my own demons. (Good) Bond: I would sacrifice my life and my soul to protect the innocent. Flaw: I have certain rituals that I must follow every day. I can never break them. Trinket: A broken pendant of a silver dragon that's always cold to the touch Personality in detail   Ulorin is a very neat and tidy individual, he has great respect for righteous authority and will bring upon doom to those who use their power to oppress. He is modest and speaks only when he sees need. Due to his militant background he would fit into a natural leadership role looking to take note of the resources around him and engage the problem at hand. Privately Ulroin is fairly reserved, outside of his training days Ulorin seldom will talk about his past. He is slow to let people close to him and has yet to feel true love for another person, at times Ulorin has told himself that he may let someone in if only he could find that monster...that thing. Reason being is that when that thing no longer exists than the shadow on his soul may be burned away.

Background Narrative:   Ulorin was a child from an unknown father and an elven mother of the Hala People. A nomadic elven people whom were rumoured to have traveled all through and mapped the ancient Forgotten Realms long before any man had set foot upon the land. Before their fall they were a wandering tribe that for the last 40 years had traversed the Earthfast Mountains visiting their cousins in Earthwood, Elmwood and the Gray Forest. Ulorin was a welcome addition to the tribe and had no real difficulty making friends despite his much younger age, being around such wanderer elves Ulorin learned to appreciate the new sights whenever the opportunity arose as the world always changed. This change became apparent too Ulorin as barely 8 years old he witnessed something that changed him. He dare not speak of the night and only his sword-work instructor Glen Heward knew of what happened too him. He was found four kilometres outside of Lyrabar, cold and shaken as he clutched a broken pendant in his right hand with a survival knife in the other. A band of Radiant Heart Auxiliaries had come across the young boy, he collapsed after they offered him water and he was whisked away back to Lyrabar and awoke in the infirmary of a modest Radiant Heart Compound. The Sergeant that led the band on patrol that morning stayed by Ulorin's side until he woke that afternoon. He was given food and drink before being asked the expected questions. He remembered and told them his name, where he was from and what his mother looked like but he didn't say a word of what lead him too the auxiliaries, the didn't push further and let him stay for a week to recuperate. With no family and no where to go after Ulorin regained his strength they offered him a job as a squire until he was 13 which he took without thought. He was schooled along with the other children of the compound and worked hard at all his duties. It wasn't long before his knack for talking and his strength was noticed by Sergeant Glen Heward the man who had brought Ulorin too his new home, he without Ulorin's knowledge pushed for him to be offered a place among the Auxiliaries. The thought wasn't brushed off but the Captain and Lieutenant (both members of the Radiant Heart Senior division) were curious what Heward saw in this boy that they had not. The discussion and Heward's persistence would become a key factor in Ulorin's future. The boy had reached 13 and it was time for him to be given an opportunity to serve as either an Auxiliary in hopes to become a true member of the Radiant Hearts or to remain a squire/ footman for the compound. He was given the basic training and schooling expected for all recruits and was tested all the same. However Ulorin's test was different since he had no one of authority to support him he was given a task to find a person in Lyrabar who was innocent and perform whatever task they desired as long as it didn't conflict with the Order's tenants, Torm's tenants or the local law within a week. He undertook the task and returned that evening much too Heward's, the Captain's and his Second's surprise. Ulorin had found a tavern wench who needed to walk home at the docks. Along the way she was attacked by a mugger and Ulorin intervened, he based the man over the head with a club before the man pinned Ulorin too the wall, he looked into the mugger's eyes and the man looked back horrified, so much so that he ran away. The woman attempted to pay Ulorin but he declined and escorted her home she again offered him payment for his deeds and again he declined, he then gave her the club so she could dissuade further encounters and left her be. He showed Virtue, Courage, Honour, Kindness, Self-control and Charity; his assessors found the woman through Ulorin's description and asked her for her version, Ulorin had failed to mention that he asked the man to stop and leave before he struck the man. This was all they needed to know and Ulorin was welcomed as an official recruit. For the next seven years Ulorin showed himself to be capable and teachable, he always longed for self improvement and approval from his peers. He was popular among the recruits and showed keen prowess through his weapon drills, he had a preference for the longsword and the halberd while in chainmail. However despite his life seeming to flourish he began to have frequent nightmares about the night, more and more he couldn't shake a feeling of longing a need for him to leave. He confided in Heward who responded with "You must return Grey, your family, everyone needs you to avenge them. Those monsters cannot be left to live nor can the innocent people suffer any monster. No two Paladins are the same and you were given a mark before your blessing from Torm. You can destroy these creatures, you have to. First however you must go back to where it all started...it won't be easy so take this." Heward handed Ulorin a pack with some strange objects within, he looked back at Heward and studied his face closely, it was then their eyes met in a way that hadn't occurred before and he knew Heward understood him, and even knew what he had faced before he had told him. The 20 year old Ulorin took his belongings and blessings from his Paladin brothers before he left on a rainy morning. He had agreed to a task of protecting a caravan through the Earthfast Mountains to the entrance of a Dwarven city. However he had his own mission, as the two set out Ulorin had little too say throughout their journey, he was focused, he gripped his frosted pendant numerous times until they reached the city. Ulorin parted ways with the traders before he returned too the scene. Any bones, clothing and tents that were there were gone from time, however Ulorin knew it was the place. He hunted for hours in hopes of finding what took his family but it seemed he had missed them. Ulorin took on the name he had been given throughout his training at the Radiant Heart compound "Grey", such a clever name that stemmed from his hair streaks. He continued his travels assisting any he could but always looking for the monsters that leaked beneath the surface, in the shadows and even in the most unlikely locations.