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  #1  
Old Apr 28th, 2016, 02:55 AM
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Barmy Berks

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  #2  
Old Jun 4th, 2016, 09:30 PM
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You remind me of the Babe
 
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Xia'Wa'Chhtt'Kttka
Gender: Irrelevant
Race: Thri-Kreen
Class: Empathic Wanderer (Ranger/Monk)
Alignment: NG - Good intentions, but culturally alien
Faction: The Fated



Physical Description: Xia'Wa is pretty frightening to most who are not familiar with his breed, and can incite hostile reactions to in those who assume his is some kind of monster, or even terror from those with any kind of phobia to insects. Xia has been traveling around the mammals long enough to know some universal friendly gestures and obsequious mannerisms. Pantomime humor he finds is his best ice-breaker.

Though he has no need of clothing, he has adopted a bare minimal garb to cover where most species assume his genitals are. Armor is moot, and anything metal just chafes his chitin. Instead he adorns himself with loose leather cloth and loose hanging baubles that clink against his skin when he walks. He has a weakness for bling and and precious gems, so he opts for the shiniest, prettiest baubles he can find, often crafting them into crude jewelry to proudly display.

He carries an assortment of self crafted weaponry in a bundle on his back, and takes great care in his art, often using whatever shinies he can find to etch into their design. As a result, he is becoming well known in the Hive within Sigil, his creations often being sought out by collectors for it's unique craftsmanship and it's cultural value.

 

 
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Last edited by JonnyGulliver; Jun 8th, 2016 at 02:31 PM.
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Old Jun 4th, 2016, 09:49 PM
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Very Old Dragon
 
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Name: Gummywort "Gummy" Thistledown

Race: Svirfneblin

Class: Imagemaker 5 / Thief 6

Faction: Sensates

Description/Personality: Gummy is a gnome of average height and build for his relative young age, but no one would use the word "average" to describe anything else about him. Like practically all deep gnomes, he has no hair, not even a whisker, and his charcoal skin is actually a deeper shade of grey than most. But that skin is festooned with tattoos done in bright gold ink. His arms, neck, and even the sides and back of his head glitter brightly in a dizzying tapestry of geometric designs and fanciful depictions.

His typical garb is a red velvet smoking jacket, lined with ermine fur dyed purple. Or something similarly ostentatious. His fingers and ears alike drip with jewelry. Indigo pantaloons embroidered with crimson thread terminate in bare feet, which, apart from the lacquered nails, appear entirely unadorned. Topping the ensemble is a hat. It is impossible to describe the hat, because it seems Gummy has a limitless supply of caps and cowls and pill hats and fezes and bowlers and tri-corns.

First impressions of Gummy can typically be summarized as follows: Outgoing, garrulous, and possessed of boundless curiosity (though decidedly bounded concern for the welfare of other beings, or even his own). Flamboyant in dress, speech and manner. Full of mirth and optimism, but rather lacking in sympathy. He loves being the center of attention, and is usually the center of trouble.

Gummy is an artist and a performer at heart, and his work is not limited to mystical displays of Illusion. His skills as a painter and a puppeteer have won him a few plaudits and a few more coins. Both mediums obviously do not approach his illusions in terms of depth and verisimilitude, but they are better suited to serve as springboards for the imaginations of his audience.

 


Magic Item Wish List:
Girdle of Giant Strength
Hat of Disguise
Gauntlets of Ogre Power
Cloak of the Bat
Cloak of Elvenkind
Shortsword of Backstabbing
Boots of Elvenkind
Collar of Disguise
Collar of Charisma
Pearl of Power/Ring of Wizardry/Ring of Spell Storing
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Last edited by ThreadBear; Jun 16th, 2016 at 11:21 AM.
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Old Jun 4th, 2016, 11:12 PM
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Character Name: Erik Ismail
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Class: Holy Strategist 7
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Deity: The Red Knight

Physical Description: A priest of The Red Knight has two suits of armor. One suit is a dark red color. This suit is the signature color of the priesthood of The Red Knight. An approaching legion of red-armored troops always struck fear into the hearts of enemies. The other suit is black. When a Priest of The Red Knight needed to go on stealth missions, his red suit is not exactly subtle enough for the job. Thus a Priest of The Red Knight always has a backup suit of armor. This armor is usually not as heavy as the red suit and is better suited for stealthy operations while still providing adequate defense. Both suits of armor have a cloak of corresponding color covering the entire body from the ankles to the neck. Both suits also have a Corinthian-style helm.

Underneath the armor, Eirik has a medium build. He is tall (6'), but rather average in stature, certainly not what one would expect of a warrior. Maybe that's why he was neither a paladin nor a fighter. He has brown hair and brown eyes and a neatly trimmed beard giving him the looks of a military man.

Background: For the past two decades, the Legions have been fighting in the Province of Ahlissa, leaving the Empire short-handed elsewhere. Generals took to hiring mercenaries to fight alongside imperial forces.
The mercs were disrespected by the regulars, and given the worst of supplies and equipment, and often had to make do with whatever they could scavenge, but fought fiercely.
Eirik spend a few years as a merc, fighting to put down a rebellion in Chathold and to keep the Nyrondese from encroaching over the Harp River.

The imperial liaison to Eirik’s merc company was a crusader priest of The Red Knight, who took a liking to the young merc and began preaching to him of the benefits of entering the priesthood; better assignments, better equipment, better pay, and respect. Between deployments he entered the priesthood of The Red Knight.
His natural ability and experience as a fighter and his warlike attitude made him a prime candidate for the crusader order.

Soon after he completed his training, Eirik received a message from his sponsor. The senior priest had seen the signs of what was to come; the Emperor had converted to worship Garagos, and this could only mean one thing to the priesthood of The Red Knight.

Eirik was told to take whoever he could convince and flee to the southwest. With the war going on, it was unlikely that the Empire would have time to hunt down every priest of The Red Knight within the legions. In addition, he was to spread the word of the threat to whatever priests he could find. He went south with a dozen junior priests, and journeyed into the Province of Ahlissa, where they scattered to spread the word through the legions.
He was too late. Priests of Garagos had already been deployed to the legions. The first priest of The Red Knight that Eirik found had already been crucified and was near death. Eirik finished him and continued west, towards the Sword Coast.

Word of the slaughter of the priesthood reached Waterdeep, where the priesthood survived. Eirik frequented a tavern in Waterdeep called the Misty Beard. There he drank to his fallen comrades, and to the future of the priesthood of The Red Knight.

The Red Knight, his patron, has heard of rumors of conflict brewing in the planes. Not being able to enter the city of Sigil herself she sends Erik, one of the highest ranking officers in the remnants of her scattered priesthood, to investigate.

Motivation: Eirik is a strategist. He is most vocal during a time of war where he assumes a leadership position. He even is vocal when planning for minor battles. When he is not in war or in a battle, he is more of a quiet and recluse person. He can come off as always having a serious attitude, having a dark past.

Shopping List:
Girdle of Dwarvenkind
Gauntlets of Ogre Power
Frostbrand
Candle of Invocation
Pearl of Wisdom
Cloak of the Bat
Ring of Regeneration

Last edited by Yves; Jun 16th, 2016 at 04:26 AM.
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Old Jun 5th, 2016, 03:24 AM
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Chathi Sefrian

Class: Wizard (Transmuter)

Race: Human (Prime)

Faction: The Society of Sensation

Character Sheet

Description: You are looking at a lanky human woman with fair skin, well into her twenties by the looks of it. The expression of her face is conspicuously volatile; generally friendly, but then often absend-minded, only to return to attentiveness the next moment. When you meet her gaze, a smile flares up on her face for a brief moment and you catch a glimpse of white teeth. Chathi's voice is rather high-pitched, but with a slightly husky quality to it; you have a hard time imagining her singing well, and such a situation would indeed be very counterfactual.

Her dress is decidedly civilian - clean blouses, dark skirts, and woollen cardigans or sweaters, with red being a predominant colour. Yet the respectability of her appearance is marred by a certain careless disorderliness, from her long brown hair to the occasional button she forgets to close. Attached to her belt is an unusually large assortment of objects, including several pouches and scrolls, and a knife.

Coming closer, you catch a whiff of her smell, which is aromatic and leafy, with some sharper components reminiscent of pepper and sometimes vinegar. It is unusually intense, and of unusual nature, for a person's natural smell, but at the same time it's unlikely that someone would have composed a perfume like this.

Personality: Chathi is generally confident, friendly, and highly neophilic. This is not to say that she will jump headlong into any adventure; she does like to make plans and is prone to worry when they go awry, but this does not deter her from pursuing new experiences and discoveries of both scholarly and other nature. She is quick to smile and laugh and tries to get along well with other people, though, due to her impatience (especially with those whose mind is not so quick) and givenness to sarcasm, not always successfully. Although she herself is not the kindest and most caring person, she greatly admires such a disposition in others. Neither, of course, is she cruel - she merely lacks the patience to deal with other people's problems unless they happen to be her own as well, or are very interesting in their own right. The keeping of promises and contracts is a matter about which she feels very strongly.

There is a different side to Chathi as well, intelligence and ambition that are intolerant of obstacles, sometimes to the point of ruthlessness. When working on a concrete problem, she is capable of intense focus, but unable to sustain it for a long time.

Chathi is paranoidly afraid of losing her mental faculties and becoming insane or stupid. Her curiosity and desire for excitement will occasionally drive her to do things after which she falls into a practically catatonic state of worry until she is certain that no harm has come to her brain; only to do a similar thing again later. If she ever came to be harmed in this way, she would be liable to take arbitrarily desperate measures to undo it.

Motivation: In general, curiosity is without question the driving force behind Chathi's life. It is, however, not this alone that's responsible for Chathi's journey to the Infinite Staircase. Having heard the tale from her friends in the Society of Sensation, who know her to be a capable magician, she has got it into her head that she is doing this for idealistic reasons, whereas she is, in fact, conforming more to social pressure than anything. Whether she will eventually understand herself well enough to see this, and where this realisation would lead her, remains to be seen.

Background: The daughter of a Thayan nobleman, Chathi was prone to inciting her family's disapproval for her rebelliousness and general lack of propriety in conduct and association, despite her considerable talent for the magical arts. In fact, the thought that he'd have less headaches if his youngest child hadn't been born entered her father's mind more than once - but it was no less devastating to him than it would have been to any father when it was through his own hubris that his daughter was quite traumatically yanked from her home. When he, unwisely, reneged on a settled deal with a Baatezu, the creature abducted his daughter as a compensation for the breach of contract. It was only through sheer luck that Chathi never found herself in any of the Nine Hells: On their way through an astral conduit, the devil's party was held up by bounty hunters eager to sell present their hearts to a Tanar'ri.

Chathi, forgotten in the turmoil, managed to crawl along the conduit and eventually found herself lying in the streets of Sigil; dirty, thirsty, utterly exhausted, and paralysed in shock. Thrown into a strange world far from home, Chathi was surprisingly quick to adapt nonetheless. It proved to be a blessing that she had been forced to study some Infernal, as it was her first language of proper communication, aside from an awkward cross of the Faerūnian common tongue and Planar Trade. Chathi managed to find work as a shop assistant in the trade of alchemical and sometimes magical items and in her attempts to broaden her horizons soon met with the Society of Sensation, where she found friends and teachers who guided her in the difficult task of remaining a curious person in the Planes without becoming the proverbial cat.

Last edited by Mairien; Jun 19th, 2016 at 07:41 AM.
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Old Jun 5th, 2016, 10:34 AM
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Application
Mistral Ephyrean

Character Sheet Mistral Ephyreal
Class: Wild Mage (Floating Sorcerer)
Yeah, I'm a spellslinger. No I won't show you - magic is serious business, not a way to entertain rubes and I don't feel like paying the music to show you some fireworks. My job is to be a Chant-broker and guide - and who better for it than a Coldblood? We're in charge of the Cage's records - no-one knows the Chant better, and we have the dark on everyone. I also run messages. Growing up on the inner planes - Air, obviously - I learnt to get around without using the ground much - a useful talent considering the streets here are absolutely filthy.

Race: Air Genasi
My mum's a djinn - got called up by some clueless Berk looking for wishes, and a little on the side. Never met him, never want to. You gonna make something of it?

Faction: The Fated
I'm one of those cutters they call the Takers - coz why call someone what they actually are when you can do the exact opposite. I'm not some coney-catcher or Knight of the Post, taking things that don't belong to me. If I want something from you, I'll give you a fair deal for it, and if you want something from me, you'll do the same.
Motivation:
One of the Lillendi did me a favour, back when I was new in Sigil. I didn't ask her, but bloods from Elysium tend to be the excessively generous type. So I'll do this to wipe the debt - should be a ride, and I've been looking to get out of the Cage anyway.
Beyond her immediate motivation to pay back a debt she owes, her general motivator is knowledge. She keeps her ear to the street and trades in the secrets of Sigil, and for a while, the wealth of information passing through the City of Doors kept her entertained. However, recently she has been getting a bit bored with it, and has been looking to get away from the mud and muck of Sigil and explore the wider multiverse.

Background: Mistral is a twenty-five year old Air Genasi - conceived on one of the Prime Material planes (she's not sure which one), but born on the Elemental Plane of Air. She came to Sigil eight years ago, accidentally slipping through a portal while she was practicing with her winged harness and crashing hard into the dirty streets. A Lillend happened upon her and helped her get back on her feet, and when Mistral decided to stay in the city at the center of the multiverse, she gave her a place to kip until she was able to get her own place. Over her years in the city, Mistral has fallen in with the Fated, and the Lillend's unsolicited favour eats at her, and she's looking for a way to pay it back - there's not much your average person has that a Lillend wants. She spends her days working odd jobs, mostly involving information. She shows around outsiders - she demands payment for this service up front, but keeps them out of trouble, unlike most who take the job - collects and trades rumours and secrets and runs messages for the Faction.

Personality: Mistral is brash, a bit antisocial, sharp-tongued and speaks in a rough brogue riddled with the Cant. The last is a deliberate affectation - she was raised well and educated well on her home plane, and her native accent and speech reflects that. She represents a fairer branch of the Takers' philosophy - she'll help out people that need it, but she won't be particularly nice about it, expects them to help her out in return, and requires them to use the help that she gives them so that they won't need help in the future. Her basic philosophy is 'give a man a fish, he'll ask for more tomorrow; teach a man to fish, and he'll leave you alone and owe you a favour'. Beyond that, Mistral doesn't have a strong opinion on morality. She's against baseless cruelty, violence etc., and doesn't have much care for laws, but she's not exactly a freedom-fighting paragon of virtue; and while she cares deeply about her own convictions, she isn't much bothered by those of other people. She looks out for herself first, but she doesn't kick people when they're down, and if someone has something she wants, she'll find something they want to trade for it (and not in the mafia - 'you want your kneecaps to not be broken' way). She cares about fairness, but only in a personal, subjective sense - it offends her sense of principle as someone who only takes what they have earned; if someone tries to cheat her, she won't let them, but she will hardly begrudge them the attempt.

Philosophically, she ranges deep into the Chaotic end of the spectrum. When she was new to Sigil, she seriously courted the the Xaositect faction: their beliefs about the nature of chaos have deeply influence her own, and are intrinsically linked with the way she uses magic. However, a body can't survive on philosophy. Mistral is an ambitious soul at heart, and the Xaositects were unable to support those ambitions, leading her to ultimately throw in with the Fated.

She's a lot smarter than most people might give her credit for - although most people who know her are unaware of the fact that she's a mage, the small room she rents to live in is packed to the rafters with books of magical lore, tomes on chaos theory and lists of planar spell keys. Her education as a mage was cut short when she came to Sigil, but she's made up the difference since, developing her magical abilities from - as best she can manage - first principles. These principles are shaped by her view that reality is fundamentally woven from the fabric of raw chaos and that Limbo, raw, unformed and bending to the whim of anyone with the wits and will to shape it, is the fundamental expression of reality. Using magic in other planes is simply a more complicated way of imposing one's thoughts on reality, and mages that have sanitised their magic to the point where none of it's inherent randomness is left have also removed much of it's vitality.

She's a bit of a clean freak - a result of her upbringing in the Elemental plane of Air, and shares the view common to her species that breathing is a filthy habit. She doesn't have a problem with clutter, but hates dirt - especially airborne pollutants. She keeps herself scrupulously clean, and grows small plants in her home to purify the air. When she is out and about, she covers up, and prefers to avoid touching the ground or other people as much as possible (this is a Sigil thing more than a general thing, because like so many bustling, metropolitan cities, Sigil tends to be filthy), and whenever she does become dirty, she gets correspondingly irritable (inversely, if the party ended up somewhere she considers clean, they would probably be surprised by how congenial she would become).

She can also get quite claustrophobic - she's okay so long as she can feel the air moving around her, but travelling through deep caves or being underwater make her unsettled, and spending long periods continuously moving through those environments could cause her to become unstable.
right-aligned image

Description: Mistral is a slight young woman with features that wouldn't be exceptional on a human's face and a constant cold breeze twining around her shoulders and lifting her short hair away from her cheeks and shoulders. Her nondescript face is made rather more memorable by her skin: faintly blue-tinted white; her hair is the same colour, darkening at the tips to the same dark blue as her eyes. The thing that really hinders any attempts to blend in a crowd are the faintly glowing szuldar looping across her skin. She dresses in practical, neutral coloured clothes - grey leather gloves, a sleeveless blue shirt for when she doesn't wish to hide her szuldar (rarely) and a short, grey leather coat with a deep hood that she can use to hide her face. She travels as lightly as she can manage in terms of gear, and abhors the feeling of being slowed down by too much stuff. In terms of weaponry - because everyone in Sigil should have a weapon - she carries an assortment of small throwing knives, of different shapes and origin secreted about her person, and a small roll of cloth holding a dozen small darts tucked into the small of her back. Her harness, handcrafted and maintained by her own self, takes up a good chunk of the space in her room when she's not using it. It consists of a pair of large, rigid, batshaped wings that unfold out to a twelve foot span, three sections of rigid pole that can either fold up to rest along her back or unfold to provide into a single length with two extra fins for steering and a loop to rest her feet in at the base. The wings have a simple mechanism embedded into their frame that allows them to fold down into two thick sheafs of leather and wood - a few inches taller than she is, and almost brushing the ground. The entire ensemble is held in place by an assortment of leather straps across her chest, hips and a loop around each thigh, and an additional three feet down the main beam of each wing.

 




Magic item Wish List: (In order of desirability)
Stone of good luck
Ioun stones (especially vibrant purple/soell storing)
Some of the wild-mage special random items (deck of many things...?)
Flying boots
Pearls of Power
Girdle of many pouches
Warp marble (ToM)
Generic protective items rings etc.
Ring of invisibility
Talisman of Zagy?
Cube of force?

Last edited by Ratpigeon; Jun 7th, 2016 at 03:05 AM.
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Old Jun 8th, 2016, 12:10 PM
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Arabella Dannika Morbidos
"Just because you're dead doesn't mean you're any less of a person. Gods, check your privilege, Breather."

Arabella Dannika Morbidos
AKA Dannika
AKA Dead Danni
AKA Danni
AKA the only Death-Rights Activist in Sigil

Race
Class
Faction
Alignment
Sheet
Andarubian Ethnicity from the Prime Plane of PharalzaHumanNecromancer+Witch KitGrey WitchDustmen... well, mostly
Neutralish
Here

Description/Personality: Danni is of medium weight, medium weight, and medium magnetism to her personality. Friendly enough, she looks spunky and outlandish, in part because that's who she is. Whether that is simply a product of her odd raising, her odd homeworld, or simply a choice she made to stand out. Her black hair, curled widlly and uncontrollably in every direction, bounces as she walks, as does her necklace of bird skulls around her neck, hanging down to her purple-black blouse. She prefers those two colors, and the only color she accents with that is gray, typically dressed in leather and mixed threads. On occasion, she paints her face, often in skeletal motifs, but this is only when she's leaving Sigil.

Danni is friendly enough, but highly political, which is rather contrary to her status as a Dustman. Full of pathos and emotional drive, she likes to argue, and is fairly logical, despite her usual failures of falling into emotional traps. She doesn't see this, and is always right. Highly passionate about death, most see her as morbid. Her opinion of death is largely in line with the Dustmen, not seeing death as an end and believing in the power of True Death, though she herself is not quite there yet. She has too many emotions. It's a character flaw.

Danni likes chocolate. Danni loves coming up with new chants. Danni loves seeing the world outside of Sigil. Danni hates talking about home.
Motivation: Danni will never admit this, but what she desires more than anything is the desire that her views be accepted by others. This is something that she has never had in her life, even amongst her colleagues, be they necromancers, witches and warlocks, or people of her world. She also wants people to do more than accept her beliefs, but follow them as well. This is somewhat unfair, but it is what it is. She wants to spread her beliefs likewise throughout the Outer Planes and the Outlands in particular, though she's never actually visited the Outlands or Outer Planes beyond Sigil itself.
Backstory: Dannika hails from Pharalza, one of the many Prime worlds. She's never met anyone else in Sigil from there, which is fine by her. She does not speak of it often, or kindly. All she says is that it was a watery world, with a backwards political system of people who feared death and believed in a foolish god of light promising freedom from death. Death was not something that needed freeing from. On how she got to Sigil, she is more forthcoming: when running from protesters, she passed through a door, randomly chosen, and ended up on a crowded street she did not recognize. She ran for hours, thinking them still behind her. Eventually a pack of acheron started chasing her too, and made her run into a hive of Dustmen who protected her. Finding them of similar, though not like, minds, and she took up with them. She has not been in Sigil long, but she is learning. She recognizes gods, and that there are more than gods out there. She does not elaborate on this, and keeps that privately to herself.
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Last edited by Sassafrass; Jun 8th, 2016 at 12:10 PM.
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