[D&D-5e] Dragonlance: The Shadow of the Dragon Queen

[HexCursed]

The application of an application About the player: 1) What is it you would like to get out of the game? What kind of things appeal to you in a PbP game? A: What I'm looking for most of all is that the game is Active. Far too many games seem like we're waiting to play instead of actually playing. Therefore, I pledge to do my best to be responsive and interesting and engage other player characters when I post. 2) What sort of things do you not want to see in a PbP game? A: One of the flavor elements listed for this game is War. I would not like to see explicit detailing of the atrocities of war. That doesn't seem necessary. We all can imagine what that kind of stuff is like, at our own comfort level. 3) What is it that made you want to apply to this game? A: I'm running 1 game (which is very lively) and, in theory, involved as a player in 2 others. But they seem to be of the opinion that posting less than once per week whether they need to or not and ignoring the other player characters is okay. There have been a shortage of new games recently. I want to play!! 4) Do you prefer PbP games that are predominantly focused on combat, or predominantly focused on role-play? Or a mixture of the two? A: Variety is the spice of life. And I enjoy the spectrum of aspects that DnD has to offer. I'd get bored of doing just one thing over and over. Plus, it's great to have options. Can the players choose to engage in combat or find another way?

Character details Sarabeth Name: Sarabeth Class: Rogue Race: Human (variant) Background: Folk hero Alignment: neutral good Personality Personality Traits: Trusting, Virtuous Bond: I believe in community and working together to solve problems and prosper. Ideal: Few things are more worthy than a life of service. Flaw: I follow my heart over my head every day of the week. Sarabeth is a kind, generous person who tries to live by a moral code. Unscrupulous people have fooled her into doing things that she's not proud of but she still trusts in the goodness in people's hearts and trusts her instincts. She prefers the company of a few close friends rather than large crowds or solitude. Appearance: Sarabeth is the only redhead in her family. Between that and her impressive height and white skin, she stands out. Growing up, the attention she garnered was a source of embarrassment and she dressed very conservatively. Lately, she's started coming into her own, growing from a gangly teenager into an attractive woman. She presents herself with more self-assurance with each passing year. On a typical day, she wears light, breezy clothing, enjoys her hair loose, and insists on having a great set of boots (and will often assemble an outfit to suit them). Backstory: Sarabeth's family are foresters - hunting, trapping, and harvesting timber. She is the youngest of 4 children, the next oldest being 6 years different in age. Sarabeth was commonly teased as being "an accident" instead of her parents wanting another child. Her mother insists that wasn't true. The family business is going well to the point where they don't expect Sarabeth to join in. With that in mind, Sarabeth started to pursue what seemed like a good opportunity to take another path, learn interesting skills, and meet new people in town. Unfortunately, they turned out to be a small guild of thieves and not adventurers, and she bailed on joining them. She did however pick up skills such as picking locks and sword play. Recently, she teamed up with some neighbors to track down a family that had not returned from their travels. They found them trapped by a horrible creatures that somebody referred to as a Hook Horror and they devised a scheme to rescue the beleaguered family, many who were injured. Unfortunately, when part of the group confronted the monster, their courage failed and Sarabeth ended up holding off the creature alone while the others proceeded with the rescue. Barely making it out alive, they returned home with a surprising number of people still alive. Sarabeth was heralded for her courage and willingness to sacrifice herself for the good of others, becoming a bit of a local hero. Family: Father (54): Harald Mother (51): Delliana Brother (32): Jolian Jolian's wife (32): Cassi Brother (30): Leorin Leorin's wife (31): Tassona Brother (26): Venlon Venlon's wife (23): Geralin Sarabeth (20) 7 nieces and nephews   Sarabeth crouched next to an animal trail winding its way through the undergrowth. The breeze tugged at thin material of her top, providing some relief from an otherwise warm day. At least she wasn't working out in the sun. "Geralin!" she loudly whispered, directing her voice behind her. "Geralin!" she repeated a few times before the blond woman appeared through the trees. "What is it? Did you find something?" she said as she picked her footing through the foots and rocks while holding her hair away from her face with one hand. "Why do I bother..." Sarabeth said beneath her breath. She held up her arm to stop Geralin from walking on the ground she was looking at. Lightly touching he ground with and extended hand, Sarabeth indicated an indention in the soil. "More of those footprints from the elk. And something else." Geralin crouched too, though her skirt draped into the dirt when she did. "What is it?" "Here, where a boot made an indent." "It's small! Like a Kender's. So..." Geralin shrugged. Sarabeth shook her head. "I don't think they were made by a Kender. See how the front is sunk in so much more than the rest. The creature was walking almost entirely on its toes." "Creature?" "Yeah... I think a Goblin made these." Geralin stood back up and stretched her back a little. "You're not afraid of a Goblin, are you? I mean, you fought that beast, so a Goblin would be nothing in comparison." "Well... I didn't exactly the Horror. And I didn't exactly win either." Geralin scoffed. "Don't be humble about it. You helped. You were invaluable. That's what everyone says. Besides, you're not scared of a Goblin, are you?" "I'm more worried about why it came so close to town. And there may be more. There's never just one Goblins." "So, we follow it." Sarabeth shook her head. "No. We should just get back. We're going to lose the light soon. Goblins are much more accustomed to the darkness than we are. It's when they're most dangerous." She stood and tugged lightly on Geralin's elbow. "Let's go..." Secrets: Known: Marvik the Entertainer is a recruiter for the local thieves' guild who almost convinced Sarabeth to join their ranks, until she learned that they were far less than honorable. And that Marvik's true purpose was to convince Sarabeth to be his wife. Unknown: The man who raised Sarabeth is not actually her father. She is the result of an affair that her mother had with a dashing adventurer. That's why her mother kept telling Sarabeth that she was destined for something greater than a simple, peasant life. Notes: +2 dex, +1 wis, Feat: Moderately armored?

[DraconigenaArma]

Name: Ronan Blackwood
Race: Human
Class: Warlock

Personality Traits: I am always calm, no matter what the situation. I never raise my voice or let my emotions control me.

Bond: I'm guilty of a terrible crime. I hope I can redeem myself for it.

Ideal: People. I'm loyal to my friends, not to any ideals.

Flaw: An innocent person is in prison for a crime that I committed. I'm okay with that.

Background: Criminal

 

Ronan made an excellent street rat, and later substance thief, in large part owing to the incredible average nature of his build. Average height, neither thin nor particularly muscular, but lean and wiry, with the kind of strength and endurance that comes from a life of scrapping and survival rather than formal training. His hands are calloused, dexterous, and bear small scars, especially around his fingertips. His face is sharp and gaunt, giving him a fox-like quality with eyes a stormy gray-green. An intense, searching look, is his default expression, giving the impression of constantly sizing up everything around him. The thin lipped set of his mouth adds to the appearance of weariness and mistrust. His nose is slightly crooked from an old break, and a thin, faint scar runs along his right cheekbone. He does not meticulously groom his brown hair, which falls to his shoulders in naturally messy, slightly wavy locks. Though it is often tied up in a low knot or loos braid, though inevitably strands escape and fall around his face. He shaves his cheeks and neck, and keeps what bear is left trimmed close.

Dark colors form Ronan’s default wardrobe, favoring faded blacks, deep greens, grays, and browns in the fabrics of his clothes. His clothing is functional, even his non-adventuring clothes featuring reinforced stitching and sturdy, close fitting tailoring which do not inhibit movement. Loathe to throw anything away, his clothes are carefully darned and patched when he can’t have them magically mended. Often whatever he is wearing is hidden by the large, tattered cloak with hood he keeps pulled up as much as possible. His clothes, and this cloak, have a number of pockets sewn into them which he keeps small tools and other items in. The cloak may be the oldest garment he owns, with faded edges and stitched up cuts. On his right index finger he wears a tarnished, unadorned silver ring which he tends to fidget with and spin when he is impatient or nervous. When focused on something, or is listening intently to someone talking, he can go unnervingly still.

 

Ronan’s owed much of his survival to a pragmatic sense of caution, shaped by a harsh youth spent on the streets of the slums of Palanthas. He has a deep distrust of authority and formal institutions, viewing them as sources of exploitation rather than protection. Ronan possesses a relentless drive to understand his abilities and use them to the benefit of himself, and those who are otherwise ignored by society. Naturally guarded Ronan can come across as cold and reserved, preferring observation over involvement, and he often lets others speak first. While he maintains a protective wall around his emotions, he isn’t unkind; rather, he’s practical, looking for the most effective ways to act while staying a step ahead. A sharp intellect and dry wit show through when he chooses to engage, often with a quiet, sarcastic humor that catches people off guard.

Though self-reliant to a fault, and unwilling to let others get too close for reasons he’d die before telling, Ronan hopes someday to fill in the emptiness he feels from not growing up with a family. He’s surprisingly loyal to those who earn his trust, and though he won’t openly admit it, he finds a measure of relief in companionship. His resistance to authority tends to show up less as rebelliousness, but more as a confident defiance. Ronan is the epitome of a still pond which runs deep, with small clues at those depths coming from his relentless pursuit of knowledge, quiet compassion, and steely resolve.

 

A tragic past is the hallmark of heroes and villains alike, Ronan being no different with poverty and violence as constant features of his upbringing. Though by no means affluent, he at least had a home outside of an alley until he was eight. This was unusual among the poorest of the peasantry in the slums of Palanthas, most of his peers were one of countless siblings. However, on that fateful evening Ronan had snuck out to of the house to play with his friends, returning home just in time to watch a trio of demonic cultists complete a ritualistic torture and murder of his parents in the center of their squat, one room apartment. Horrified, far too young to understand much of anything going on, and in no state to challenge three adults, he hid in the alley waiting for them to leave. After they departed, leaving in three different directions (one walking obliviously past Ronan, hunkered down in a pile of trash) he spent the rest of the night in his house, mourning his family. Even the young Ronan’s innate pragmatism was strong, and he realized he would never be able to convince anyone of what really happened. A snap decision made, a few quick preparations made, and the apartment with his parent’s bodies inside was ablaze.

So began Ronan’s life on the street, which defined the rest of his childhood and adolescence. His aforementioned friends, living in households with too many mouths to feed already, were no resource – not a one of their families would take him in if (even if they wanted.) The annals of that time could be filled with the story behind every scar, every brush with death or starvation, and every rule rationalized away for survival to fill a book. While the details may be unique to each individual, the similarities among those who have lived to adulthood in similar circumstances are greater than their differences. What separates Ronan’s story from his contemporaries was his singular obsessions with investigating, understanding, and ultimately taking revenge on the Shattered Veil, the demon cult devoted to Belaphor the Wretched, and especially the three that killed his parents. It gave him purpose, focus, and influenced a thirst for knowledge which many of his other street rats found little to no value in (and often derided him for before he started concealing some of his extracurricular interests for posturing purposes.) In an odd way it gave him hope, something to look forward to during stints in jail or during weeks without a meal or two pennies to pinch together.

This goal is what influenced him to take jobs which were riskier than necessary, or take odd jobs sweeping the floors of libraries far outside his territory for pennies less than it took to eat that day, and spending more of his free time and money (what of it there was) on less recreational pursuits. He also found himself interacting with, and forming unlikely alliances with people who were uncharacteristic companions or associates of a street criminal. Not much for doting on itinerant performers, and not much of a drinker either, one notable character in his memory was a storyteller he ran into at the Black Dragon Inn. It was during one of the few times he indulged in drowning sorrows after a particularly turbulent experience which was poised to utterly upend his sense of self. Something about the instant connection with this gregarious bard, and Ronan’s vulnerability and inebriation, was the perfect storm of unbridled truth and confession, an outpouring and offloading of things he had never told another soul. This man’s counseling was fundamental to solidifying Ronan’s motivations and goals, as well as keeping him from going down a dark path of justifying the means by the ends. The short interaction with Ispin was incredibly dense, redefining a number of Ronan’s outlooks on society, the establishment, and himself. They would find each other any time the bard made it back to Palanthas. It had been a number of years since he’d heard from Greenshield, before receiving the first letter ever addressed to him.

 

Ronan holds the neatly folded parchment with wax seal in his hand, the frown creasing his brow as he looks around the Black Dragon Inn, trying to find the catch or the setup. With wary caution he tucks it into his cloak, sweeping back out of the Inn with a swirl of cloak, disappearing down an alley and into the backroads of Palanthas. There was no way he was going to sit and read it at the bar. Ten minutes later, safe in his current hideout, he inspects the letter front and back for any clue as to its original providence or true purpose. The stamp on the wax seal means nothing to him, but most strange is his name scrawled across the opposite side. No one had ever addressed him a letter before. Only half a dozen people even know his last name. The barman said the letter had been sitting in their back room for nearly a week waiting for him to come in again.

Breaking the seal he unfolds the paper and skims it first, his heart skipping a beat seeing Ispin’s name. On his first read he makes it to the first paragraph and has to stop, overcome with emotion he was not prepared or eager to experience. The parchment falling from his hand Ronan weeps for the first time in years, face in hands. Once composed again he re-reads the letter, then reads it twice over before his reeling mind is able to really comprehend the request. He had never left Palanthas, never really having the money, need, or desire. Everything he knew was here, the streets he was familiar with, the politics of the gangs, which guards were on the take, the quarry of his obsession… But for Ispin? Even before making the decision to go, Ronan’s already calculated the favors he can cash in, the things he could fence immediately, and all of the other particulars of getting passage to Vogler in time for the festival.

 

1) I have recently returned to the site from a hiatus, with a renewed sense of what it is I want out of gaming on this site. I want to recapture that sense of classic sword and sorcery, and tell those types of stories about heroes and anti-heroes triumphing over evil. Dragonlance very much evokes that sense of “old school” fantasy to me. I don’t play 5e much, so it’s nice to try it out again now and again, and I haven’t played a warlock yet. I like the idea of doing an anti-hero style gish and I think, even without access to hexblade, a core only pact of the blade warlock can make a suitable support (not frontline) fighter / spellcaster. Things which appeal to me most in PbP is the flexibility and freedom to invest deeper in the “write a novel” style storytelling which gets lost table top.

2) Current/modern politics, and to a grander sense, contemporary story tropes shoehorned into classical narratives.

3) I touched on this in question one, Dragonlance is a classic and timeless setting which, like other settings from Tolkien to Forgotten Realms, appeal to my mindset of traditional sword and sorcery fantasy storytelling. I don’t know the campaign material, I haven’t read it, but I can assume things about where it will go based on general knowledge of Dragonlance lore regarding the end of the Age of Despair and the War of the Lance, and I like the idea of being integral to a big war in a setting, as well as seeing the socio-political ramifications through the eyes of our PCs as the true gods come back.

4) It really has to be mix of the two, though I definitely thin that mix is best if it’s 70/30 story to combat.

[Remorazz]

Undecided yet if to apply with a Hylar dwarf Fighter or an Aghar (Gully) dwarf Barbarian

It's gonna be a Mountain Dwarf regardless, but the game flavour changes a lot!

Gonna start with what I know so far:

WIP Dwarf App Name: Grunri Cavestone Race: Mountain Dwarf Daewar Class: Fighter Alignment: LN Background: Guild Artisan (Stonecutter)   Personality trait: I believe that anything worth doing is worth doing right. I can't help it – I'm a perfectionist. Ideal: Community. It is the duty of all civilized people to strengthen the bonds of community and the security of civilization. (Lawful) Bond: I owe my guild a great debt for forging me into the person I am today. Flaw: I'll do anything to get my hands on something rare or priceless. Appearance: While a human might think that Grunri has a healthy tan going on, he's been rather pale lately, he's adapting to life on the overland, and somehow that's making him look a bit emaciated, for a Daewar who's never seen the surface before. Since then, he kept his beard free, barely brushing it, as opposed to the ornate braids he used to wear in the tunnels, which reflect his lost honor. His armor and weapons are kept in a pristine state, as no respecting dwarf would go around with a dull blade or a tore armour bits, no even a dirty miner dwarf like Grunri. He's in a dour state lately, having great nostalgia of his teammates, his family and his city (and yes, also of his old tunnels), but he knows that the only way up is forward (a dwarven flip of the human saying) so he's trying to come to peace and finding the silver lining in this surface world, where everything is too fast, too flimsy and too fleeting for his dwarven taste. Background: Originally from Thorbardin, the Cavestone clan was responsible for the tunnels on the south-eastern side. Protecting the city when enemies emerged from the guts of the mountains. He committed a crime in the eyes of the city, and is now expelled until he can pay a fine (300.000 gold seems appropriate.) Grunri spent two years travelling the lands of man, trying to raise that fortune of gold to clear his name, without much success. He received recently news of the diparture of Ispin Greenshield, an old family friend, and knows he's the only Cavestone able to attend the funeral. Despite the stain on his family name, he's still part of the Cavestone clan. Sample RP:   Grunri Grunri stood up from his stone stool, under the watchful eyes of the Lawbringer's Board, formed primarily by the Elder's Council and other Reckoners, among which there were two of Grunri's cousins: Thorm and Nhursalin. It didn't do him any favors having clansmen in the Board, but it made his closing arguments all the more important. Grunri stood at the centre of the room, a hand on his side and one on the head of his pick, on the other side. "Elders, and Lawbringers of the Board. I didn't shy away from admitting my crimes. That would be as insulting as shaving your beards with a goblin blade." a shallow murmur of constipated grumbles. *..is always good to start with a bit of humor..* he confirmed to himself *..now to the meat..* "For half a century I was honored to cover the position of Tunnel Warden of the south-eastern stoneways. Me and my men protected our kin, our city and our way of life from the horrors hidden in the belly of the mountain, ever-expanding our Thorbardin and fattening its coffers with the goods we retrieved. You'll find no miner willing to deny that it's dark down there, in the depths of the stone, it's fine, we never had any issues working in the dark. But if you ask the ones that dug very deep, as far as my crew as.. you'll hear a common theme: when you dig into the stone for too long, you're not digging through stone anymore, you're digging in darkness itself. The stone stops singing with the pickaxe, and Roarx can't hear your voice anymore. I say this not to excuse my actions but to explain them. I did what I did to keep my men alive and Thorbardin safe. I spilled the blood of our enemies to achieve this, and am not sure I wouldn't do it again, if presented with the chance." With composure, Grunri turned his back to the board and headed to his stool on the defender side. *..ah! Try to hang me after that, you moldy-beards!*

Playerapp?   1) What is it you would like to get out of the game? What kind of things appeal to you in a PbP game? I never player DragonLance, very curious to feel its vibe. I like fun characters having fun interactions. Then bash the baddie. 2) What sort of things do you not want to see in a PbP game? Good question! I guess I don't like to see games dying, it's like with houseplants.. very sad every time... explicit non consensual sex scenes are also a big no-no for me, don't care how much you need it to make known that the perpetrator is a bad guy 3) What is it that made you want to apply to this game? I got a classical-game-but-high-fantasy feel, that's why I'm applying with what could be seen as a "classical" PC 4) Do you prefer PbP games that are predominantly focussed on combat, or predominantly focussed on role-play? Or a mixture of the two? Mmh... I'd say role-play, until it's about to get stale, then a hard combat, until it's about to get stale, rinse and repeat

[FCastor]

Admittedly, a heroic (?) gully dwarf barbarian would definitely be a sight to behold. In more ways than one...

[Lazer]

Arkanis; was Ispin Greenshield a Solamnic Knight? If he was, would it be possible for him to have been the Master of my character (I.e. the knight who he was squiring for)?

[Arkanis]

He was not a Solamnic Knight unfortunately.

[Remorazz]

Originally Posted by FCastor

Admittedly, a heroic (?) gully dwarf barbarian would definitely be a sight to behold. In more ways than one...

He would be the shame of his clan, the least cowardly gully in the world!

[Elanir]

Originally Posted by FCastor

In more ways than one...

Two! No more than two.

[Salvation]

@Arkanis

What are your thoughts on kender bards? Would bardic magic still fall under the purview of the mage orders?

[Arkanis]

A Kender Bard, what a horrifying proposition . Naw just kidding that’s fine with me. To get access to level 3 spells or higher I feel bards would have to pass the test of high sorcery or be classed as a renegade, even if they aren’t full “wizards” per se.

[Tempestfury]

Hmmm, how does a non-divine spellcaster work exactly like wise?

Like, I wanna play a Shilleliagh Bard, but by Dragonlance Lore, I'm either a cleric, or part of the three circles, and thus can only use a dagger for combat... unless I'm a renegade and disguise my magic? Hmmm...

[Alemar]

Application The application process will be fairly standard, I am looking for characters in the below template. Please note, this is 2014 5e only. Name: Kallion Nightwind Race: Half-Elf Class: Fighter Alignment: Lawful Neutral The Noble Trait #1 I've enjoyed fine food, fine drink, and fine company... Rough living grates on my nerves. Trait #2 I go to great lengths to maintain my appearance and follow the latest trends Ideal Change - Life is like the seasons, in a constant state of change. We must be able to change with it. Bond My Family is the most important thing to me... Even when far away, they are close to my heart. Flaw I am easily distracted by promises of wealth or 'secret' information

Part 2 Give me a bit more detail on the below three sections: Appearance: Kallion has dirty blonde hair that is kept cropped short, with a goatee that is painstakingly maintained. He has emerald green eyes and a fair complexion that belies his fairer ancestry, though his stocky stature stands closer to the average human than of the Elves. Personality: Somewhat haughty, Kallion is a cut above the unwashed masses... and he knows it! While he tries to be fair and equitable in dealing with people, he is not above the occasional lie or bribe to make sure he achieves his goals. Despite his somewhat superior attitude towards people, he is friendly enough. And would always prefer to make a new friend, rather than turn someone into an enemy. Let's be honest here, it's much more dangerous to have actual enemies about, and much much harder to call in owed favors from them as well! Backstory: Though some, perhaps many(?) of Kallion's Noble peers did not see the need to mingle with those below their stations; Choosing instead to remain at a safe, and perpetual distance. His Father, 'The Lord of Nightwind Keep' did not agree with their 'conventional' wisdom. No, rather he often did things in his own way... And left Kallion to defend him to the world! Kallion's Father was himself a half-breed, so when it came to choosing the love of a good woman, it did not matter that she was an Elf. He balked at the overly rigid expectations of pre-arrangement and patriarchy, along with the slew of mistresses that usually accompanied it... For a chance at something real, even if it was less politically powerful as a result. Even as disobedient as his Father had been towards his own parents, Lord Nightwind allowed no slack, or reprieve, from the duties he expected from his own son. Having found it quite important that the young Kallion be taught a wide range of subjects, and exposed to as much education as possible. After all, as Heir, Kallion was to be a reflection on the Lord personally. If he was found to be wanting, it could fall back upon his Father's rebellious choices, and no son would dare disrespect his Lord in such a manner! Even though Kallion had younger siblings coming behind him, if he failed in his duties as First Born, all of the expense, all the expectations of his wasted potential would mar the Nightwind Dynasty forever more. RP Section: Kallion sat with his book propped open on the table of the tavern, though he was not reading the pages. The general din of the patrons was more than enough to keep his focus from the words on the page, but more than that, even possessing such an item as a book in public marked him as an outsider. One whom would likely not appreciate their closer attention once the evening wore on, and those present had imbibed past their limits. As one of the higher caste, Kallion would perhaps one day be responsible for controlling this steading? Or perhaps not. But regardless of whether he was given to it's administration, understanding the people and their customs was of utmost importance. And there was no finer teacher than "Active Participation". "Hey YOU!" The words cut through the room, raising the tension to breaking point. "What's an ugly face like yours doing lookin' at me?" The body of a young man came into view on Kallion's periphery, sailing majestically through the air. His landing, however, lacked the grace of his flight... As he came crashing down breaking the very table Kallion was sitting at. Slowly drawing himself up to his feet, Kallion reached out and swung his pack around so that he could safely stow his book. As he placed the tome away, his holocaust cloak drifted slightly open to reveal the gilded and beautifully ornate hilt of his Rapier. It was obvious that this was not a weapon for a common soldier, not that they would have been found with their head in a book, or a mug of honeyed wine in their hands... Kallion did not want a fight them; but he was determined that if it was time to draw his steel, he would defend himself from the drunken attacks of these hounds.

part 3 Lastly I would like to know a little bit about the player behind the application. Could you answer the below questions for me as part of your application. There are no right or wrong answers to these questions, it just allows me to tailor the game to meet individual expectations:- Originally Posted by Arkanis 1) What is it you would like to get out of the game? What kind of things appeal to you in a PbP game? First and foremost I want a good story... I like the rush of combat, the feel of victory... But if the story isn't going anywhere? It's just not the same... Originally Posted by Arkanis 2) What sort of things do you not want to see in a PbP game? I try to be open to most things... nothing is really springing to my mind as a hard "NO" at the moment... Originally Posted by Arkanis 3) What is it that made you want to apply to this game? I've tried applying to your games in the past because the premise always seems good ... I haven't managed to crack it yet, but I still want a chance to play in the world. Originally Posted by Arkanis 4) Do you prefer PbP games that are predominantly focused on combat, or predominantly focused on role-play? Or a mixture of the two? A mix of the two, but I would prefer leaning more into combat than just endless RP banter (if you know what I mean?)

[Seekr34]

Name: Kagonosarian
Race: Kagonesti wood elf
Class: Ranger
Alignment: CG
Personality Traits: If you are going to do something, do it as well as you possibility can.
Ideal: My prey gives its life so that I can live, and for that, I am grateful. (good)
Bond: I respect every animal that I slay.
Flaw: I am slow to trust members of other races, tribes, and societies.
Background: Guide

Give me a bit more detail on the below three sections:

Appearance: He pretty much looks like your typical elven ranger. Medium size build, but shorter than most humans at only five feet tall, but unlike other elves, they are lean and muscular perhaps on the lanky side. Dressed in brown and green fringe with feathers , matching the forest. With a bow at his back. The elf blends in well as if part of the forest itself. 6' fall with green eyes & copper hair down to his shoulders & copper tan skin. Armed with a bow at his back, a sword at his hip.

Personality: He's easy going, gets along with everyone and polite. People seem to find themselves opening up to him, finding him easy to talk to, someone that listens. He's the happiest when in the forest, as with most of his kind. He is wary of the outside world as most would be. The world isn't the same as it once was.

Backstory: Like most of his kind, he grew up in the forest, living the nomadic way of life and seeking harmony with nature. They keep to themselves, staying the thick of the forest, for they are just fully suspicious of most outsiders, having been enslaved by their own cousins, the Silvanesti and Qualinesti Elves, who thought their cousins uncivilized and barbarian, and attacked by other creatures, mostly the Ogres, hunted by Humans, and having their trees cut down by Dwarves over the course of history. Although some silvanesti refugees had come for help, they were let in, but kagonesti would be overwhelmed nor submit to their cousins’ ways.

Living under a tribal system, where each tribe is centered on a chief and his family, Kagonosarian was named after his ancestor, Kagonos, who was alive back in the Age of Dreams, namesake of the Kagonesti elves.

When he officially became an adult by his people, he decided to set out into the world. While he knew he was safe at home, he wondered for how long? No one was sure what happened to the Silvanesti homeland and Kagonosariar was concerned what if his people were next? Sure, some of his people were concerned, but none seem too bothered by it, thinking they were safe. He told his chief who was not happy but understood Kago’s concern for he was too. He wished Kago luck and bade him to be wary.


RP Sample: Months gone by while Kago was exploring the lands, sticking to the closest forests he could, keeping himself hidden from others. On occasion he would make friends, it was this day that a rider had come to the forest that he was staying in. He was packing is gear in preparation for the trip in the morning.

The rider stopped, looked him over slowly, then asked. “Would you be Kagonosarian?”

Kago was studying the man as well and when the human spoke, he nodded and answered. “I am.” His eyes narrowed in wonder, wondering why a human was asking for him.

“I am glad I found you, I have a message for you.” He hands Kago the letter while still on his horse. “Have a good day elf.” Then rider turned and rode off.

Kago watched him rode off for a moment, then looked at the letter, confused. He then shrugged, “Well, might as well find out what this is about.” He opened it and read it. His eyes widen as he read the letter, then he read it again. A Knights of Solamnia wrote this. He knew Ispin traveled with one, used to boast about it, but still, a solamnia knight writing to him. It was only a few months that Kago had traveled with the human. “I guess I made an impression on him. I wondered how he died, he was getting old, old for a human, but not that old.” He shook his head. He had no real direction to go tomorrow, but it seems now he does. Vogler


I would like you also to think about two secrets for your character. The first is a secret the character is aware of, and the second is a secret that they are not aware of. Please put both of these in secret text to me.

Lastly I would like to know a little bit about the player behind the application. Could you answer the below questions for me as part of your application. There are no right or wrong answers to these questions, it just allows me to tailor the game to meet individual expectations:-

1) What is it you would like to get out of the game? What kind of things appeal to you in a PbP game? To have fun. The fun having with others and the imaginations.

2) What sort of things do you not want to see in a PbP game? Fighting about rules, fighting how other players play unless it's be disruptive.

3) What is it that made you want to apply to this game? Only played this game twice, back years ago at 2nd edition. Almost 3rd time on here but game died pretty quick.

4) Do you prefer PbP games that are predominantly focussed on combat, or predominantly focussed on role-play? Or a mixture of the two? I prefer a mix of both. Too much role-play can get boring. Too much combat can get tiresome. A mix is more pleasant.

[Salvation]

Character Name: Kellis Whittlewit Race: Kender Class: Bard Personality Traits: "I love a good insult, even one directed at me." Bond: "I idolize a hero of the old tales and measure my deeds against that persons." Ideal: Creativity - "The world is in need of new ideas and bold action." Flaw: "I once satirized a noble who still wants my head. It was a mistake that I will definitely repeat." Background: Entertainer (Storyteller, Instrumentalist, Singer) Appearance: Even among other kender, Kellis stands out with long, curly, blond hair partially pulled into a topknot while other long strands dangle down to frame the striking features of his face. His sharp, mischievous hazel eyes seem to focus with shrewd intent when he is interested in something or dart effortlessly from one point to another when excitedly distracted. His charisma is palpable and he is definitely not shy to attention. The corners of his mouth rarely turn down unless he needs to affect an angry tone but it is usually just part of the performance. As part of that performance, he will seemingly change moods in stride to fit the words he wants to say. Average of stature among his kind, his presence always seems to stand taller. Personality: For a kender of such small stature, Kellis is a whirlwind of wit and charm. He is constantly looking for the next adventure, calling them his inspiration, which they are of course. To him, anything that has a hint of danger or mystery is the beginning of a story that must be told. He lives for the moment and the more exciting it is, the better. His sharp tongue is both a blessing and a curse as it has gotten him out of as much trouble as it has gotten him into. There's a boldness and a brashness that have become part of who he is because of that. Humor is important to him, even the biting kind, as he believes it brings people closer and keeps spirits high. There's nothing he loves more than matching wits in a caustic exchange, no matter if it is a rival or a friend. On the other side of that is his firm belief in heroism. Having collected a range of stories, some of which he has made up himself, one of the most important aspects of them is heroism. There is inspiration in those stories and in his mind, the heroes of the new dawn need that inspiration. For as quick as he can sometimes be to tear someone down if they deserve it, he will go out of his way to build someone up... if they deserve it. Backstory: Like most kender, Kellis was born and lived his early life in Hylo. Even when he was very young, Kellis found his calling as a storyteller and an entertainer. His parents were the typical wandering spirit types and encouraged his curiosity but for him it wasn't just about finding shiny things or exploring new places. Everything had to have a story and more often than not it would be something he'd made up. He would often return from his little excursions and regale his friends with some grand tale about hideous monsters with massive teeth tearing through the forest after him. In truth, his adventure was little more than following a creek-bed to a beaver dam and running back as fast as he could before it got dark. When he was a little older, he followed along with his parents as they went from village to village and in one of the cozy inns along the way Kellis encountered a bard from Solamnia. The rousing ballads captured his attention and he listened to each and every one of them. When the bard was finishing up, Kellis besieged the poor man with questions. If he had his way there would have been stories going long through the night and into the morning. The bard was gracious and gifted Kellis one of his old lutes. He even showed him a few chords and said he should tell his own stories someday. The young kender promised he would but something stirred in him that day. He would not just tell his own stories, he would live them as well. Of course, he would still make some up from time to time too. Over the years Kellis became fairly good with the lute and developed his own routine as a performer, blending dramatic storytelling with music. Then one day, Kellis met and befriended a man named Ispin Greenshield. It wasn't a direct meeting and there was no reason for it other than happenstance. Ispin had been arguing with some noble types in a tavern where Kellis had been performing. He couldn't hear what they were shouting about but he did recognize the nobles as being a pair of particularly nasty fellows. The types that Kellis would be getting in disagreements with too if he had half the chance. So in a sudden burst of conviction, he leapt to a table near where the men were arguing and strummed his lute aggressively to get their attention. He then put on a thoroughly improvised show, mocking the noble types so thoroughly that their faces turned redder than tomatoes. Kellis even managed to work that into the song as well. The entire tavern was in fits of laughter, including Ispin. The nobles fled the scene in utter humiliation. They even tried to have Kellis arrested for slander and mockery and other audacious indecencies. Ispin intervened on his behalf and that's how they ended up travelling together for a short time. It had been many years since he had seen the man last and so when the missive arrives to bear the sad news, Kellis became stricken with grief. With a heavy heart but determined spirit, Kellis set out for Vogler to pay his last respects. He would celebrate Ispin's life the only way he knew how - by telling his story.   OOC It's hard to write without a scene so I decided to try to portray his interaction with the nobles arguing with Ispin from his background meeting. Towards the end I felt like it would be hard to continue without there being some dice rolling and it was getting a bit long but hopefully this presents a decent idea of how I would portray the character. Kellis The tavern is alive with laughter filtering through the steady buzz of conversation all around him. Kellis casts a gaze filled with quiet curiosity over the motley crowd. There were some faces he recognized from the night before, their spirits just as high though perhaps their eyes were less bleary from drink. It had been a late night, a tiresome one. The young kender had only just arrived before dusk that night and wandered a weary path to the first sounds of merriment he could track with his keen ears. He went unnoticed on entry per usual. It was easy to weave through the crowd of taller folk paying no mind to anything that might be right under their noses. He knew how to get their attention, however. A well practiced technique that works every time, not counting the times it didn't work. He found a table where the largest group of rowdy types carried on, leapt upon it and struck a very jarring dissonant chord on his lute. It had the intended effect, they were stunned to silence which was the opening he needed to tell them a singsong tale or two.. or twenty. Fortunately, it worked. Unfortunately, those were all the songs and tales he had, or at least could remember. So here he sits, cozied up at the end of the hearth of a fireplace in a tavern full of people who have heard every song and tale he has to offer over the course of a single night. There was a lesson to be learned in this. He might learn it next time if it happens again. For now, he needed to think of new material. Every now and then someone in the crowd would recognize him from the night before and call out for a song. "Buy me an ale while I think of one," he would call back. There were now three untouched ales beside him and he still didn't have a song. The inspiration was nowhere to be found. He hunches back against the cobblestone wall of the fireplace and kicks his boots out in front of him, one foot crossed over the other. His lute drapes across his abdomen and he occasionally strums it listlessly, hoping the sound of it would offer some kind of catalyst to snap him out of this current funk. Then suddenly, he hears the golden bells... shouting in the distance, arguing even. As if a light was cast on his face from above, his expression softens and his smile grows. In the distance, his keen eyes make out the faces of two nobles he had come across early in the day before. They seemed to have a particular disdain for kender, making remarks about his childish rags and toy lute. He threw a few comments back but he was tired, the road to this place was harsh. Kellis knew he would see them again and there... they... were. His grin is ear to ear. On his feet in an instant, he cut through the crowd as quick as he could. Using the sounds of the shouting as his guide he found the nearest table and leapt upon it. A hand lifted high and struck downward across the strings of the lute producing the same dissonant chord that drew all the attention just the night before. He held the dramatic position after finishing the motion as he waited for just enough eyes and ears to turn his way. "Esteemed friends!" he began with a melodic pitch in his voice, "And fellow patrons! Pardon my disruption but I would like to introduce some special guests to this house of merriment!" He glides his fingers across the strings of his lute in a more pleasant sounding chord before gesturing to the two nobles with a flourish. "Lord Fussypants and his good friend, Sir Stinkybreath!" He looks directly at the targets of his affront with a genuinely gleeful smile, "Oh friends but don't look at them too closely. Their crooked noses are turned up so high, the slightest sneeze or sniffle might catch you right in the eye!" Kellis strikes two more chords in rapid unison to frame each insult as he continues, "I assure you, despite titles, they are no true nobles. They merely dress to look the parts... I would urge caution if you stand behind them friends as they are known for their frequent..." he leaves the last word hanging and quickly reaches a hand to his armpit emulating a sound effect that everyone recognizes and loudly fills in the blank. Kellis wrinkles his nose at the nobles, "Excuse you, how uncouth!" Another pair of chords play and the young kender begins to sprinkle in the tapping of his foot as he gauges the reaction of the crowd and thinks up more insults.

Player Questions 1) What is it you would like to get out of the game? What kind of things appeal to you in a PbP game? I am always all about building a fun story with like minded people and play by post really lets me immerse myself in that. One of my favorite parts of pbp games so far is reading other players express their characters and being able to participate in responding to them and just having that continued back and forth. From the game itself I just like to get some kind of sense of progression. 2) What sort of things do you not want to see in a PbP game? Anything that overly stalls the things I mentioned above like arguments over rules or general disinterest, lack of participation. 3) What is it that made you want to apply to this game? I'm not much of a fan of too many established D&D worlds and I admittedly lean more towards science fiction but outside of Spelljammer, Dragonlance is probably the only one I have ever really liked a lot. It doesn't seem like a common one to pop up so it feels like a good opportunity to try and be a part of that world. I like the presentation of the advertisement and though I have not read the adventure I do know of it and it's ties to the lore. 4) Do you prefer PbP games that are predominantly focussed on combat, or predominantly focussed on role-play? Or a mixture of the two? Definitely a mixture. I've done quite a bit of slice-of-life rp in the past and while I do love some extensive character interaction through roleplay, I feel like a well narrated combat with a solid mechanical foundation presents the perfect balance in a pbp format.

[Revlar]

Character Application Name: Xavmorn Race: Half-Elf Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Class: Wizard Personality Traits: I'm willing to listen to every side of an argument before I make my own judgment. Bond: I've been searching my whole life for the answers. Ideal: No Limits. Nothing should fetter the infinite possibility inherent in all existence. Flaw: Unlocking an ancient mystery is worth the price of a civilization. Background: Mage of High Sorcery (Lunitari) Appearance: Tall and thin with long, black hair he pulls back with a leather cord at his neck. Like many half-elves, he uses hair to try and hide his ears and other tell-tell signs of his origin. He wear a standard red robe and often keeps the hood up, even when it's not needed. He has one piercing blue eye. The other, the right, is gone and covered by a styled red leather patch. Personality: Quiet, tending to wait till others have wasted their breath before giving his own opinions. He has been damaged in more ways than one though. He is angry at a society that ostracizes him, a world that has hurt him. He has learned patience and how to control his flaws. But still, a deep burning anger simmers beneath this veneer. He lets that anger out in displays of arcane violence. Backstory: Xavmorn was the result of a rare love between an elf man and human woman. Though elves usually enjoy long lives, his father was killed before he was even born. Some say it was a fight turned ugly. Other say it was murder. Elves should dally with human woman, at least that's what the villagers said behind closed doors. His mother was ostracized. Called and elf-loving whore and worse, she never had a hope to marry. She worked hard, however, throwing all her frustrations into making Xavmorn's life better. She sold many of her belongs to set herself up as a weaver of silk. No matter how much she was hated, her goods were rare and she prospered. Xavmorn tried to hide it from his mother, but children are cruel. He was mocked and bullied near constantly. He began to fight back, but he was weaker than many other children. A budding anger at society and the world was already kindling inside him. When he found he had an affinity for magic, he finally found something that made him special. Magic was powerful and didn't care about one's race or origin. Oh, people still judged him and looked down on him. But none could deny his growing ability and power. He devoured all the learning he could, eager to rise above the little men who hated him. It was during this time he met Ispin. He was able to bring out the calmer more introspective side of Xavmorn. It brought balance to a young man who was veering into very dangerous territory. His Test at the Tower of High Sorcery was brutal. He had passed the tests of skill with flying colors. But the tests of psyche....that was brutal. Scarring. He walked out of the Tower with red robes, a bleeding socket where his eye once was, and a stain on his soul.   Xavmorn's Crime Xavmorn stood triumphantly, though he bled a cut across his eye socket. Around him, the human thugs who had attacked him lay on the ground smoking. The burning of the his wounded was intense and worrying. He squinted it shut, but it seemed like it might not work right anymore. Still...he chuckled to himself in self satisfaction. He was a mage in truth now, powerful. No more would men like these mock him, attack him, chase him. They had thought to take him easily, being there were six of them. But he had shown them, oh yes. Xavmorn was a force to be reckon with! His staff lit up at it's tip, illuminating the ground around him. He wanted to survey his enemies, see the shock permanently frozen on their faces. As he closed on the first body though....It was all wrong. First, he noticed they weren't armed. They wore no armor. It wasn't rocks or slings they held, but rotting fruits. Secondly, only a couple looked to have taken his spells to their chest. Most them had been hit in the back, facing away from him. They had been running away from him, but he never gave them a chance. Thirdly, they weren't men. They had the height of men, but those faces...they were children. Teenagers. Gangly armed teenagers. Faces twisted in fear and horror. It all snapped into place so clearly now. They had been yelling at him, mocking him. They chased him, threw things at him. Cruelty, yes. But the cruelty of children, uninformed. Meanspirited, but ultimately, harmless to him. Slice that damaged his eye came not from a man swinging a sword. The small dagger on the ground lay nearby. A lucky shot, thrown by a panic boy as he ran away screaming. His magic...it gave him so many options. He could have frightened them off with sparks or illusions. But he had been so....angry. So sure of his own superiority and power now. It wasn't self-defense. It was revenge. A slaughter of children. He fell to the ground, heaving. No matter what pain he felt, the revulsion of what he had done was too much. He vomited on the ground, flecking his victims with bile. His victims, not enemies. He was a murderer now, a murderer of children. No matter what happened from now on...that would always been a stains upon a soul. He scrambled to his feet, and ran. No matter how hard he ran though, he couldn't outrun his guilt. Murderer.... A child's voices whispered. First one. Then more. Then six. Then dozens. Hundreds of times over. Murderer...

Why I want to be in this Game 1) What is it you would like to get out of the game? What kind of things appeal to you in a PbP game? I like the pace of a PbP game and the fact I can relax with the pace. 2) What sort of things do you not want to see in a PbP game? Lack of interaction and half hearted posting 3) What is it that made you want to apply to this game? The original Dragonlance trilogy was one of the first really modern fantasies I ever read. I was a fan way before I knew much about D&D. I read everything to do with the setting. I bought the annotated omnibus. So, year, Dragonlance is a big part of how I started into fantasy and roleplaying 4) Do you prefer PbP games that are predominantly focussed on combat, or predominantly focussed on role-play? Or a mixture of the two? A mixture, I want to use all my abilities. Spells, skills, and imagination.