[D&D-5e] Village Survival

[Ysolde]

I accepted everyone who applied. Apparently my PM's didn't get to everyone though so here's the link: https://www.rpgcrossing.com/showthread.php?t=216913

[DebiRedHair]

Do you have space for another character? Lots of games ending at the same time!

[Ysolde]

Hi all! We lost two PC's and our village could use a bit of help before the Harvest comes. Right now our heroes are finishing up dealing with a wolf/rat abomination problem and scouting out the nearby village and possibly the Town of Silverlake. Mysteries abound and threats big and small are out there waiting to pounce.

Will you help our small village survive?

Note: I changed the deadline until I get some applicants.

[Kheegan]

I'd certainly be interested. Anything in particular the group is looking for in terms of rounding out a party?

[FatherDondo]

Originally Posted by Kheegan

I'd certainly be interested. Anything in particular the group is looking for in terms of rounding out a party?

So far we have a fighter, druid, paladin, ranger, light cleric, wizard, two artificers (alchemist and battlesmith), and a barbarian, if I have it right. As it stands, we've been splitting into groups of two, so some doubling up shouldn't be a problem. It doesn't look like we have a skill monkey yet

[Kheegan]

Sounds good. I can get something put together.
Just need an afternoon or so. I'll post up tomorrow.

[Kheegan]

Sorry, a couple more questions; Any preferences on races / backgrounds? I was thinking of rolling up a Rogue (future Scout) that is the daughter of a local hunter. Are tabaxi's availalabe?

[Silent Rain]

Hey, Ysolde. I'll throw my hat it

Application - WIP Name: Tomlin Forde Occupation: Entertainer Class: Bard Gender Identity: Male Race: Human Appearance: Tomlin was an incredibly handsome man in his youth, a trait he still retains today, though now beneath a veneer of forty years of experiences and travel, which have begun to wear on the bard. Much like himself, his clothes are well made, though showing signs of wear. Although he is now apt to show more scruff on his face than he once did, he still keeps a well-kept appearance. Personality: Tomlin is a good man that loves to ease the burdens and suffering of others, if he can. He is quick with a smile and has one of those personalities that makes people trust him right after meeting him. He will go out of his way to help those in need, regardless of whether that aid comes from comforting words or the end of a knife. Backstory: Tomlin was born and raised in Mistvale Village, though he began leaving as soon as he was old enough to travel. His natural aptitude for music, song, and storytelling, grew alongside a strong sense of wanderlust, and it did not take long before he was often away from the village for long stretches of time. His wanderings brought him across Silverlake and out of the valley, and through the mountain pass, far down the King's Road. His voice and song gave him free food and lodging wherever he went, and with it a host of tales and news from far and wide, which he eagerly consumed. Inevitably, he was always drawn back to Mistvale, usually spending the long cold nights of winter there, and sometimes beyond. Although he never had settled down into a permanent residence there, given his transient lifestyle, he had come to think of his usual room in the inn as his own. He could think of a dozen reasons why any other place in the world was more interesting, but in the end, they weren't home. The residents of the village usually welcomed his presence, especially the children, who loved to hear his tales, but there were certainly some that found his lifestyle to be strange and inappropriate. When the Silver Peak fell, Tomlin had only just returned to the village, barely a fortnight prior. He was shocked by the loss of the King's Road, but news of strange creatures now seen around the village, along with his own words now suddenly carrying a power unto themselves, gave him plenty of mystery right here, that he did not have much time to worry about being stuck in the valley.

[DiceGoblin]

Sounds interesting, I'll throw my hat into the ring.

Application Name: Laurem Fangrave Occupation: Swordmaster, Fencing tutor, father. Class: Warlock (Hexblade) Gender Identity: Male Race: Human (Variant if allowed) Appearance: Laurem stands at just shy of 6 foot with a lanky build. He has long, light brown, that almost always has a ribbon or two braided into it and green eyes. He has rough calloused hands and a stern face. Both his ears are pierced and usually have small gold hoops in them. He is never seen without two things, his red jacket, and a sword at his hip. The heavy dark circles under his eyes tell people that he rarely gets enough sleep. Personality: Laurem is disciplined and focused. He has a strong work ethic and puts his all into everything he does. He's a giant teddy bear with an intense face. It isn't uncommon for him to walk around town with his nails painted pink, ribbons in his hair, and a stern expression. He's a caring person who absolutely spoils his girls and would do anything to keep his family safe. Backstory: Laurem is the only child of the town's previous swordmaster and inherited the family home/dojo about 13 years ago. He's been training in the way of swordsmanship his entire life. His best friend growing up was Julia. They played together when they weren't working on their trades and made silly promises to each other that they would one day get married. Turns out those promises weren't silly. They've been married almost 15 years now. When Julia got pregnant, they were both overjoyed. His parents basically swapped houses with them. With Laurem taking over the dojo and his father choosing to retire in preparation to becoming a grandfather. Julia got huge during her pregnancy, to the point where Laurem heard the whispers from the other local women. That should have been their first clue. The day she went into labor was the day everything changed. It also the last time Laurem would get a full night's rest. Their daughter was born and they were both overjoyed. The second came and they were surprised by ready to adapt. Laurem hadn't even know it was possible to have three babies at once. Triplets. All girls. In the span of a few hours Laurem found himself outnumbered 4 to 1. Kylee was born first, then came Lucia, and finally Evalyn. Three kids was a lot, but three daughters was even more. But still, Laurem wouldn't trade the last eleven years of sleepless nights, painted nails, hair ribbons, and absolute chaos for anything. During the day Laurem ran the dojo, teaching swordsmanship to anybody who wanted to learn. Though more often than not, it was just people paying him to the use the space for their own training. He makes most of his income from his twice weekly fencing lessons with the local lord's children. It wasn't uncommon for Laurem to be woken up in the middle of the night by his daughters screaming. But this was not normal. He grabbed his sword, which he kept by his bedside, and rushed into their room, Julia right behind him. At first, Laurem thought he was dreaming. He was pretty sure his daughters weren't normally horned, or brightly colored. And were those tails? Kylee was purple now. Lucia was red. Evalyn was white. Julia rightfully smacked him when he made the nervous joke about how they were easier to tell apart now. It was almost a relief when they learned later that they weren't the only ones this happened to. A quick examination of each other showed that Julia now had pointed ears and her eyes had gone from gray to blue. Laurem, it seemed was totally unaffected. ...Why was his sword talking to him?

[Kheegan]

Character Application Name: Mirella Woodward Occupation: Forester’s Apprentice, Carpenter Class: Rogue (would go Scout at 3rd) Gender Identity: Female Race: Tabaxi (post Quake) Appearance: Mirella is slim of figure, only standing above 5 ft due to her ears. Her fur is tan with mottled whites and greys and blacks, eyes of amber. Her clothing is rough spun woolens and sturdy cloaks for when she is forced to work in the cold. Personality: Mirella used to walk with surety but of late, as she finds that her alteration to this new cat form may be permanent, she walks with her head down and shoulders slouched as she moves from job to job in the hopes she can remain unnoticed. Going so far as to adapt some of her carpenter’s tools to allow her to bypass locks so as to enter and exit through more unassuming means. Better to avoid unnecessary confrontations about her appearance. For her part, Mirella’s love and attention is dedicated to her father and the animals indirectly in her care. While she would remain loyal to a friend, offer mercy and succor freely, her words are normally for her parent and the animals.

Backstory For her part, Mirella always thought that her life was one of exceptional privilege. Every day found Konstantin Woodward awakening hours before dawn, packing dried strips of meat and grain bars and heading out the front door of their austere cabin just outside the Lord’s wood…only to find his young daughter already packed and ready to go. Their days were filled serving the Lord’s Forester by roaming the Wood to aid in preventing poaching, ensure the game were healthy - putting down any illnesses as best as possible - and preventing encampments. The latter wasn’t the most appealing of her father’s duties, but it kept a roof over their family’s head. As she grew up, there was also an opportunity to learn carpentry from her father - who’d built their small cabin and also worked in the village to repair damage on homes and shops. This was something Mirella learned quickly, adding to the young woman’s repertoire in service to her home. And it brought Konstantin Woodward’s daughter no end of joy to be of use to her village. And to bring a smile to her father’s face. When the collapse of Silver Peak happened, Mirella had been alone in the Wood, separated from her father to cover more ground as they tracked a wounded buck. The forest floor shuddered under her feet so violently the bones of her legs vibrated like tuning forks. She collapsed to her knees, pain surging along her skin and tightening her muscles so badly Mirella curled into an ever shrinking ball. When she awoke, the colors of the forest around her were dimmed and greyed, the motes of what smelled like crushed stone swam in her vision. Smelled? Mirella shook her head and gathered her things, eyes scanning the greying forest for signs of her father. She called to him; once, twice. "Home." She said to herself. If they’d ever been separated in the past, they’d known that returning home was the best option. So Mirella moved through the forest with a swiftness spurred on by a deep-seated fear which she couldn’t explain. When she arrived at their small cabin, her heart beating out of her chest, moments from reaching for the door, her father’s voice called from behind her… But it wasn’t the voice of warmth and pride Mirella knew when Konstantin greeted his daughter. No, this was one of warning promising harm should she move one more step. When Mirella turned it was her father’s bow and drawn arrow that did the speaking. With a shriek of alarm Mirella threw herself to the ground and called out to him, begging him to stay his hand. Didn’t he recognize his own daughter? In the days that followed, Konstantin did his best to apologize for the bowshot. And he did his best to keep Mirella home and out of sight. At least until he discovered that the dark mystery that had befallen his child had also struck others in the village. And if the horror on the mountain was any indicator, their very survival was in question. The unexplained would have to wait for the things they could control, even if barely. But Mirella couldn’t put it aside. The changes in her had also changed her world. She saw things differently. By the godking she smelled things differently! Heard things differently. All in all, those very instincts for moving quietly through the dirt paths of the village helped her stay out of sight and out from under foot. Father had even taken to calling her Quiet-toes. It was meant to be affectionate, but it reminded Mirella that her fingers and toes produced claws. Would this be forever? Maybe. For now, she would help where she could. Father said there was rumors of rangers and trailhands being called to seek out a new trade route. Perhaps Mirella could volunteer for something…

OOC, Actions, & Stats OOC: Actions: Stats: Mirella (Character Sheet Link)

[PapaHuck]

Work-in-progress, y'all

Ness
Gong Farmer of Mistvale

For those unfamiliar with the profession, the gong farmer is the person that collects the excrement from everyone's privy and transports it to the various fields to be worked in as manure. It's certainly the least sought-after job in all of Mistvale. But it's also one of, or (if we're being completely honest) perhaps the most vital task in the entire hamlet.

At least that's how old Ness sees it. Grizzled and physically aged beyond his years, Ness is a constant fixture in the fields, latrines, outhouses, cesspools, and window-based relief systems of the Misty Vale - although he is well beneath the notice of the more refined elements of village society.

Given his position in life, Ness finds it completely unnecessary to constrain his intellectual curiosity to the narrow confines adopted by those concerned with appearances. He doesn't hesitate to speak his mind either - mostly because nobody ever listens to him anyway. Being beneath the notice of the gentler folks, Ness has overheard more than a few interesting tidbits about the village's dark underbelly.

It's not that he's entirely unvalued. The more astute farmers and estate administrators of the region recognize that he performs an invaluable service, and with great skill and discernment, masterfully and seamlessly managing the high-stakes logistics and politics of who's crap gets picked up when and put where. A few of them even remember when they started calling him "Necessary Jimmy", before the village somehow collectively settled on just "Ness".

It may not surprise you to hear that a gong farmer's life can be a lonely one. And Ness was worried about his posterity. But life in Mistvale was no fairytale (at least not yet), and romance was never in the cards for old Ness. There was however a young boy, born to a family of serfs in the extreme south of the surrounding farms. Timothy he was named, but he was not well-loved. Young Tim had the misfortune to be born with both a cleft palate and club feet. While the former caused folks looking upon him to feel discomfort, the latter made him slow at farm work. Observing the disfavor showed the boy, Ness made an offer. His family was only too ready to sell him off for a pittance. When Matt the traveling cobbler came through Mistvale, Ness took special care to bathe thoroughly in the river, even going so far as to procure a bar of soap. He sweet-talked that cobbler like nobody's business and, at the parting of some hard-saved coin, was able to procure two pairs of special shoes for Timmy (one for now and one to grow into) that allowed the boy to move about with a little more prowess. The shoes cost significantly more than had the boy.

Ness took special care to teach Timmy everything he could about the trade, and the lad was a quick study. Although publicly the old man insisted there was still much esoteric knowledge to be learned about the job, privately he was often feeling a bit superfluous, the younger gong farmer now so capable to handle matters on his own.

Like many others, Ness was profoundly changed by the cataclysm of Misty Peak. Yeah-so-far he has merely incorporated his newfound powers into his gong farmer duties. But now he is feeling even more extraneous to Timmy, who has changed into a hulking Goliath of a man after "the great peak dumping"(as Ness refers to it) occurred. Perhaps it is time to let Timmy take over and move on to an encore career. Maybe, just maybe, even as an adventurer and town savior. Ness has spent his entire life cleaning up difficult messes for Mistvale - why should this be any different?

The cataclysm profoundly changed Ness, but exactly how it changed him I'm happy to be quite flexible on, to fit party composition and DM preference. A couple favorites of mine:

A mercurial Eladrin wizard who's appearance changes with his mood

A silver-tongued half-elf bard with really nice teeth

A fairy archfey patron warlock who's familiar is a pixie, because, why not?

A dhampir rogue that is trying to convince himself that his newfound compulsions to hunt and drink the blood of his victims is a blessing to be used to protect the town from dangers, not a curse that could plague these lands for countless generations, right?

An imposing dragonborn palladin with an undying thirst for justice

A contemplative tortle twighlight domain cleric that has suddenly become acutely aware of the Illusory nature of duality

[MontageManiac]

Posting interest. I’ll see what I can whip up by tomorrow if that’s ok. What’s starting level?

[Ysolde]

Originally Posted by Kheegan

Sorry, a couple more questions; Any preferences on races / backgrounds? I was thinking of rolling up a Rogue (future Scout) that is the daughter of a local hunter. Are tabaxi's availalabe?

Tabaxi is fine. Background should be something that fits in a village. No pirates, foreigners, or large city folk.

Start level is 2

[Chaucer]

Basic Info Name: Ashryn Inayra Occupation: Farmer Class: Rogue Gender Identity: She / Her Race: Elf

Appearance Even though she has changed in some ways since the fall of Silver Peak, in others she has not. Always standing out in a crowd with her fiery red hair and twinkling eyes of sapphire twilight, Ashryn is remarkable in very many different ways. Her slender form hints to both her considerable grace and agility. It was the changes that came after the fall of the mountain peak though that are most notable. First, the awakening of a strength inside the girl that she did not possess before, both inwardly and outwardly caused her no small amount of surprise. The change to her ears was very noticeable, yet it was the almost otherworldly aura that permeated her being that was more subtle, yet no less real for all that it was. There was something that was simply different about the girl outwith the obvious changes, something that was difficult to place a finger on, yet something that was still, simply, there. Those changes manifested themselves in other way. Always considered light on her feet, Ashryn found herself possessed with the ability to stalk across the corn-filled fields of Mistvale with nary a sound. She discovered that she was able to climb the walls of her own house without even breaking a sweat. What the source of these newfound abilities were she could not say, however the falling of the peak itself no more than a few days previously was nothing more than a coincidence. Was it? Ashryn tends to favour loose fitting clothes. A simple dark blouse tucked into brown or dark breeches, along with knee-length boots, she tends to find that wearing such garments aids her newfound manueverability as she continues to explore the boundaries of her new abilities.

Personality Having lived a sheltered upbringing to a certain extent in the village of Mistvale, Ashryn is very naive and inexperienced in the ways of the world to a certain degree, although she counters that naivete with a small amount of mischief. Not in a malicious way, it should be understood, but Ashryn certainly revels in trying to push the boundary of rules as much as she can push them. Something of a free-spirit, she thinks nothing of slipping a coin out of the pocket of a rich individual for her own use. After all, or so she thinks to herself, its not that the rich and well-off actually need those extra coins do they, and she's absolutely certain that she can put the coin to much better use than they ever could. Neither is she beyond playing harmless, but embarrassing, pranks on the overly serious Elden Silverdale. I mean, that boy needs to seriously loosen up, and what better way of doing so than positioning a full bucket of pig slop delicately over the door to his private chambers? If there are any repercussions to her actions, Ashryn tends not to worry about the finer detail of worrying about that, she lives for the moment and doesn't tend to get bogged down over things that she doesn't think far enough ahead to worry about. Balancing out her mischievous ways, those who take the time to truly get to know Ashryn find that she is a very imaginative person that spends most of her days dreaming of high adventure and journeys to distant lands and places. Although she has been provided for everything that she has ever wanted for, Ashryn has always had "itchy feet" and the desire to travel and see what she can of the world. Generally, Ashryn doesn't let anything dampen her youthful enthusiasm. She tends to wear her heart on her sleeve and often cannot see the bad in others. Her naivete means that she is always willing to trust and take other people's word on things, even if those people have a tendency to dissemble and lie. She has a smile for everyone, and a warm, heartfelt laugh that endears herself to people despite the irritations she often visits upon them. Lately, she finds herself consumed by the changes that have been wrought on her. Who, what and why tend to be the most prevalent thoughts floating around the interior of her consciousness, and that for someone who doesn't tend to spend a great deal debating the what's and why's of life is an anomaly. Its not that she doesn't like the changes visited upon her, even if she does now look a little bit odd compared to how she used to, its more that there must be a purpose behind it, right? It must be something connected to the fall of Silver Peak, right? And in her eyes, who would be better suited to scouting than her?

Backstory I remember the story that my adoptive parents told me of my arrival in Mistvale. My origins are a mystery to me, as are the identity of my true parents. It was a dark and stormy eve, and a fierce wind was battering the village. Only the fiercest or most foolhardy of souls braved the weather that night. I am not sure yet which of those my surrogate father fell into. "Tis a fierce storm hitting us tonight.." The speaker was Randall Inayra, a hunter and tracker who plied his trade hunting for live animals to provide food for the village. The rain fell from the heavens, soaking the man to his very bones. He looked up and shook his head, believing the gods themselves to be angered to bring such foul weather. The strong winds buffeted him, and he had to dig his heels in firmly to resist their fierce blows. Fortunately, Randall was as stubborn as the rocks themselves, and it would take more than a stupid storm to shift him. He nodded to his friend, dismissing him. This was no night to be out and about. The sun was setting, turning the sky a deep shade of crimson, something he would have appreciated more if it wasn't for the weather. As he turned to leave, he suddenly fancied that he heard something very faintly. It sounded like a baby's cry. Randall shook his head. Surely not, not in this storm at least. But there it was again. Randall turned and walked to the source of the sound. There, not even a couple of hundred yards away there appeared to be what looked like a crib. Walking up to it, Randall was amazed to see there was a baby inside, dressed in swaddling cloth. Randall shook his head again, amazed. Who would leave a babe out in this weather? To die? Picking the babe up, Randall cradled him to his chest. Regarding the baby with curiosity, Randall spoke to himself. “What am I going to do with you? I can't leave you out here." *** Despite his easygoing, trusting nature, Ashryn is a mystery to most in Mistvale. As a babe she was left just outside the village perimeter in swaddling cloth. She was stumbled upon by a hunter who took the babe to his home within the village. Brought up there, Ashryn is no stranger to hard work and toil, and in fact deep down appreciates the work that she does and the chance to help her surrogate father and mother. Her “father”, in turn, has taught Ashryn the basic rudiments of the sword and has taken her on some of his hunting expeditions. Yet deep down, Ashryn knows that this is not her true calling. Nor was she destined to spend her life as a simple farmer in a small village. There is something out there greater for her, in this she is convinced. She knows nothing of her true mother and father, in fact nobody in the village does. Ashryn quickly learnt that such a line of questioning would not lead her anywhere and it would certainly not yield the answers that she so desired. Ashryn simply looks for an opportunity to go on a grand adventure of the sort that the bards always sung about, and she is convinced that following the fall of the Silver Peak and what has happened recently that such an opportunity is about to present itself....

[Ysolde]

Sent some PM's out. If I have more interest I'll figure it out it's not like the village won't need help with wild animals, the harvest, and the like...