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  #31  
Old 05-22-2020, 03:13 PM
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Name: Urobor Shuuthtar

Class: Paladin of Bahamut multi-classing into Sorcerer of Null

Race: White Dragonborn

Appearance: Covered head to toe in snowy white scales, Urobor keeps a hood pulled low over his reptilian features to hide his icy heritage. With the arrival of Cryovain, there are those who not look upon one of his ilk with anything but disdain. Under his cloak, he wears his chainmail and symbol of Null on a silver cord around his neck. His right cheek is tattooed in a rune of power honoring Null and showing his devotion to the dragon god of death.

Personality: Nothing trumps the completion of his sacred mission but he understands that those who may seek to slay Cryovain may not take a direct path in doing so. It is his priority to find the likeliest group that will fulfill the prophecy of the dragon's downfall to ensure he is with them and present for the deed. His critiques are stern but good-natured as he realizes that if the group or himself are slain before or during the fight with Cryovain, others may slay the beast before he has been blessed for death.

Background: Knight of the Order (Null / Bahamut)

Personality Trait 1: I'm always polite and respectful.

Personality Trait 2: I can stare down a hell hound without flinching.

Ideal: I seek to prove myself worthy of my god's favor by matching my actions against their teachings.

Bond: My honor is my life.

Flaw: I obey the law, even if the law causes misery.

Backstory: A former servant of Bahamut, Urobor has been given a new task for the dragon god Null who presides over the death and afterlife of dragons. A young white dragon named Cryovain has settled too near the civilized races and will certainly be killed by those trying to protect their homes. It is imperative that Urobor is present for the death of this dragon so that he may preside over its last rites and see its soul ushered to the Dragon Eyrie.

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Last edited by tomplum; 05-26-2020 at 09:52 AM.
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  #32  
Old 05-23-2020, 07:04 AM
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Niko

Niko
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Niko, Human Fighter (Arcane Archer), LN
Background: Mercenary Veteran (SCAG)
Personality Traits:
1. I hold myself to a strict code of ideals.
2. I always train because training leaves the person ready even in a moment of respite or weakness.
Ideal: Golden Soul: I fight for money, and nothing else. (Neutral)
Bond: I never disrespect an employer, if they never disrespect me or stop giving me money.
Flaw: I'll do anything for coin, damn the consequences.
Hometown: Secomber was a small, peaceful town that acted as the de facto border town between the relatively peaceful Western Heartlands and the more savage North along the Sword Coast. The town contained a number of colorful gardens.Secomber
Appearance: Tall and lean, Niko sports a head of long brown hair and a full beard. He appears to be in in his early 40’s. He dresses in a smart suit of leathers and takes pride in his appearance. As a mercenary, often the success of being hired relies on a good first impression, and he keeps himself fastidiously clean. Sporting a longsword on his back, and a quiver just of his belt, he can normally be seen longbow in hand. A longer look and you might just see a dagger slipped neatly into his right boot.

Personality: Niko holds himself to his own internal set of ideals. He can be brusque at times and prefers to be no nonsense. A job is a job, and once paid or on the promise of pay, he is as good as his word. He will not break a contract once accepted and works tirelessly to ensure its completion. Always civil to those he works with, he tends not to form attachments or commitments.

Backstory: He was not born to riches or wealth, and early on realised that to make anything of himself he would have work hard and tirelessly. A good and principled worker, Niko is stubborn, and once he sets his mind to a task, will complete it with stubborn determination. It was these traits that brought him to the attention of the captain of the city watch Nozam Mursk of the Lords Alliance. Under Mursk’s watchful eye, Niko was inducted as a lowly constable. He excelled in his training and was soon one of the better shots with a bow and more than capable with blade. By the time he was in his late twenties he had attained the rank of Sergeant and was well respected by those under him. However as the years went by, Niko found himself more and more disillusioned by life within the watch. Corruption was rife and those that fed the city’s underbelly prospered like a plague. When his mentor Nozam Mursk retired, he saw little point in staying himself. Well acquainted with the many mercenary companies that travelled to and from the city, one morning, he simply signed on and took a job bodyguarding a caravan convoy setting off down the sword coast. The money was good, and the work for the most part relatively easy. The next 10 years saw Nik moving from job to job, and place to place. Sometimes he worked with a mercenary company, sometimes he worked solo. And so it was this lifestyle that led him, now in his early 40’s to be walking the Triboar Trail, heading towards Phandalin and following rumours that there maybe jobs to be had.

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About me: I currently DM three games in real life, and play in one. However, due to the lockdown I haven't been able to get much gaming in, and I sorely miss it! New to the site, and first application. For some reason, I cant add an image to the application. Possibly I'm too new and need to be verified or something first. If I can figure that out, I'll add one as soon as I do. Need to play more to figure out image posting, but for now, managed to attach my thumbnail. Working from home at the moment, so a lot of time on my hands. Thanks for considering this!

EDIT: Figured out posting the picture.
@Retry; Thanks for the feedback and the links. Have had a lot of fun reading through all the information. Really useful. Have bookmarked for future use!

Last edited by grumpydad; 05-29-2020 at 06:33 AM.
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  #33  
Old 05-23-2020, 08:11 AM
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Name: Mugogall "Mugo" Thudurk

Race: Half-Orc

Class: Paladin - Oath of Devotion

Personality: Calm, kind and quiet... Nothing like a stereotypical Half-Orc. Mugo strives to be helpful and friendly whenever possible, overcompensating for a youth spent doling out hatred and torture. He struggles with any unnecessary taking of life, goes above and beyond to settle matters peacefully and shows abundant mercy to all he encounters. However, deep inside, he still fights against the rage and violence of his Orc lineage and upbringing.

Appearance: A daunting figure with his 6'7" frame, his body covered in scars of all shapes and sizes, and a single jagged tusk protruding from his lower jaw. His grey skin was covered in think hair and frequently covered in a layer of sweat.

Background: Hermit

Personality Traits: I am utterly serene, even in the face of disaster.
I often get lost in my own thoughts and contemplation, becoming oblivious to my surroundings.

Ideal: Greater Good. My gifts are meant to be shared with all, not used for my own benefit. (Good)

Bond: I’m still seeking the enlightenment I pursued in my seclusion, and it still eludes me.

Flaw: I harbor dark, bloodthirsty thoughts that my isolation and meditation failed to quell.

Hometown: Thar, north of the Moonsea

Backstory: Mugogall Thudurk was raised in in Thar, north of the Moonsea by a tribe of orcs. Mugo never knew his mother, likely a bastard son of a human slave woman captured by the tribe. He was not treated well in the tribe, but compared to those outside the tribe, his treatment was mostly merciful. His youth was troubled, forced by the tribe to participate in wanton violence and destruction, while internally he struggled even with the smallest taking of life. Frequently during these raids, Mugo would intentionally hang back, sometimes purposefully twisting an ankle or falling to explain why he was not on the front lines with his family. While his father and siblings slaughtered wantonly, he struggled with understanding the reason these innocent creatures needed to die.

After around 13 winters, Mugo had finally reached his breaking point. His father looked at him, eyes gleaming, grinning from ear to ear. His terrible tusks dripped with saliva and blood as he roared. "Crush his puny skull boy!" Mugo was standing on the battlefield, holding a helpless gnome off the ground by his tiny little head. "I said crush that scrawny rat of a creature, IDIOT BOY!" his father roared. The gnome cried and plead wildly for mercy and another chance. Mugo grabbed his halberd, tossed the gnome into the air and swung his weapon with all his might.

His father's eyes appeared for a moment content and proud of his half-breed bastard of a son. Quickly that glow of pride changed to a mixture of confusion and pain. The gnome landed safely in a bramble bush, while the halberd found purchase in the gut of his father. "MURDERER!" the half-breed, bastard half-orc screamed as he wrenched the weapon out of his fathers torso.

Turning towards the forest he ran with all his might through the afternoon and into the evening. Snapping branches and small trees as he ploughed through the forest, eventually he simply collapsed from exhaustion. After nearly 4 days of wallowing in misery and wandering aimlessly, Mugo met a Priest of Ilmater who provided him with food and water, possibly the first act of kindness he'd ever received in his 13 winters. Soon the conversations and discussions turned toward a "noble life". A life of helping, not harming; building, not destroying, was possible even in the tumultuous times of Faerun. Soon Mugo and Powin the Priest had formed quite a bond and after a few years of discussion, training and prayer Mugo vowed his allegiance to Ilmater and eliminate oppression and persecution wherever his fates took him.

Mugo soon took to following after his own tribe, providing aid to any who survived their wrath, yet never able to stop their mayhem. During his 16th winter, he noticed the tribe quickly picking up and moving further south, redoubling their raids to the south. Sensing Ilmater was sending him a sign, he headed even further south to Phandalin to try and get ahead of the tribe and stop their terror once and for all.
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Last edited by routzong; 05-23-2020 at 08:46 AM. Reason: Misspelling
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  #34  
Old 05-23-2020, 02:53 PM
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Hey there Retry! Glad to see you again on RPGX Would love to post an entry, so dropping a placeholder for now

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  #35  
Old 05-23-2020, 03:15 PM
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Name: Theresa Merva
Race: Human
Class: Fighter {possibly Champion?}
Personality: Distraught. Theresa is normally friendly, and even now won't hesitate to give a smile to passersby, and say her thank yous to those who help, or tend to her. She may even be willing to cook, if the company she keeps is friendly enough, pretending for the moment that life is normal.

But deep inside her mind, she has nothing to celebrate. No reason to look forward to. Well, there is one thing, but she will share that with no one.
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Appearance: Theresa has long black hair that perfectly frames a pale white face. She's not a young fresh-faced girl, looking for adventure, but a matured young woman who's vibrant green eyes have dulled before their time. She wears a heavy suit of black chain mail, that has suited her well in protecting her body, allowing only a few scars to remind her of her of times of stubborn pride and vanity.

Background: Fallen Folk Hero
  • Personality Trait: "I’m confident in my own abilities and sometimes do what I can to instill confidence in others."
  • Ideal: "People deserve to be treated with dignity and respect."
  • Bond: "A tyrant once gave me a horrible beating. I will not stand by and watch as others are bullied."
  • Flaw: "I now doubt my abilities, and worry that I was never as good as I had once thought I was."

Hometown: Lundene, a small village that was hidden near the South-East end of the Nether Mountains, just North of the furthest touches of the Far Forest, near the Eastern most tributary that leads into the River Delimbyer.
Backstory: Lundene is... was a peaceful place to live, doing no harm to those around, made up of nothing more than people who just wanted to live a simple life. Every year, during what they call the 'Weddin Time', the older children who wished to be treated as adults, would be given time from their chores to find themselves a bride or a groom. A few were willing to leave the village and head South, usually only as far as Llorkh or Loudwater. Fewer still went further away, but those usually never returned, and were thought to have gone adventuring instead.

When she was only seventeen, Theresa Cassell was one of those. At first she only meant to look for love in Secomber. But after seeing a new way of life, she continued in whichever way the wind blew, as long as it promised adventure and excitement. She found a mercenary named Chavell who was willing to take her in, and from him she learned many things, most importantly how to fight and to defend herself. Over the years, she found her lust for adventure satisfied, putting her life in danger near constantly. When she would return to civilization, she never found herself alone at night. There was always someone willing to keep her warm. But she never found what she had started out for, but neither was she looking for it. Love was chains to bind you to one person, to hold you in place. It was boring, and tedious. Everything she didn't want in her life.

Sometimes though, when you are not looking, love will find you. And in her twenty-fourth year of life, a young man named pronounced "Why-Land"Wylland Merva found her. In between jobs, she had come to Secomber, to visit Chavell. They were enjoying a good wheat ale together, when the youngling came walking through the door. She could tell from the way he walked and looked around, that he was likely from a tiny village, just like she had once been. She loved them like this, youthful, full of energy. More importantly, he'd be willing to learn, and she was happy to be his teacher. She approached him, ordering a second ale for her new "friend". While she hadn't intended to talk to him for long, when he began to tell her of his life in Lundene, she found herself drawn into just listening to him speak. The way he told his stories, it stirred memories within her. Happy memories that she in turn shared with Wylland. As she spoke them aloud, home no longer seemed to be boring or tedious, it was joyful. It was where she wanted to be. The pair remained in Secomber for four months, learning about each other, and falling more and more in love.

After their marriage the following Spring, Theresa put aside her armor and weaponry, and returned to Lundene as Theresa Merva, wife of Wylland. She relearned how to cook, and was just beginning to learn how to mend clothes. But her new life didn't last long at all. Not even a year after her marriage, a small army of brigands made their way into Lundene, and began terrorizing the villagers. They didn't kill anyone, just harassed them. After a week of no explanation of why, the lead bandit took over a farmer's cart, so that he might address the village. "My name is Fridrik. Fridrik of the Ice." he announced. "I am here looking for a woman. A warrior who may have passed through here, but just as likely is still here. She has long black hair, pale skin, and fire in her eyes." He looks out toward the frightened villagers. His eyes squinting with malice. "You give this she-devil to me, and I vow that we will leave this place in peace." To show how deadly serious he is, he draws his sword, takes one of the lettuce heads from the cart, and with a toss up, cleaves it easily in half. "You have three days." He then lead his men away from the village, but their campfires could easily be seen in the distance. They were not gone.

The general population of Lundene knew not who he was looking for, but Wylland and Theresa did, though she did not know the why. After the bandits left, the Elders called for a moot to discuss their options, and perhaps discover who it was these brutes were looking for. Once all the adults had been gathered,Theresa stepped forward and admitted that it was she Fridrik was looking for. Immediately loud discussion began over what they should do with this knowledge. Some argued they should give Theresa over to the bandits. They truly believed that they would be left alone after she was gone. Another group, made up mostly of her and Wylland's families and close friends, knew what turning Theresa over to such brutes would mean. They could not, would not, condone just handing her over to such a fate. They suggested that she, along with Wylland if he felt he must, should be exiled from the village. Perhaps to the High Forest, where the Elves may give them shelter.

Theresa argued a different path. She felt that three days was enough time to show them how to defend themselves against such a small group. To stand up and fight for one of their own. Slowly, with the backing of her family, and the help of Wylland's persuasive tongue, she was able to convince the majority of the village that this was the right thing to do. Immediately she began preparations, All those not considered adults, or who were too feeble to fight, would go to their homes and prepare to leave for the Far Forest. The rest, both men and women, would be split into four groups. A third of them would train to fight with Theresa, the second third would prepare fortifications, building spiked fences, digging trenches, and preparing weapons, and the last third would be allowed to rest and eat. The fourth smaller contingent would watch Fridrik's camp while playing the part of dutiful farmers working the land. The groups would rotate, so they all would gain the benefit of Theresa's knowledge.

As it turned out, Theresa hadn't count on one thing, a traitor among those who didn't wish to fight. Dawlind, a farmer who owned a large portion of the land, made his way to Fridrik's camp during the first night. He told the bandit leader everything, Theresa's plans, where her traps were, how many were fighting. He even told Fridrik where those who would not fight were going to, hoping to gain fame, and perhaps more land by giving everything up. For payment, Fridrik shoved a dagger into the coward's thigh, and left it there. He had the coward bound and gagged, then tied to a makeshift litter, so that he could be pulled along to watch and listen to what came next.

Riding out in early dawn, Fridrik lead his men first South to the Far Forest. With no one to stop him, he slaughtered as many as he could find, as the horsemen rode through the refugees. Not bothering to kill them all, he then lead his men out the other side to turn North so to attack Lundene from the East. It was noon by then, and some of those who had stayed behind to defend the village had heard the screams coming from the Far Forest. Many of those ran toward the sounds, leaving the village with even fewer defenders. Not that it would have mattered anyway. Theresa had not had time to get them trained even as much as she thought she could have. She had been wrong. Hoping that her own sacrifice would be enough, She leapt upon her horse and rode out to meet the oncoming bandits. Halfway between the village and Fridrik, she held up her sword, and called out to him. "I am here! I give myself to you, but let them go. Please!"

Fridrik gave the signal for his men to come to a halt. With a satisfied smirk upon his face, he rode closer to her, then around her, looking the woman warrior over, perhaps to be sure it was indeed the one he was looking for. "Get down. Down on your knees." he demanded. Feeling as if she had no choice, Theresa does as she's told, putting her sword away before climbing down. Fridrik rides closer to her, before he gets down as well. When he steps closer, Theresa raises her head to look up at him, opening her mouth to speak. But she isn't given the chance. Fridrik brings his armored boot up, kicking her fully to the ground. "Slaughter them all!" he yells out to his men, who ride past the pair into the exposed village. Theresa tries to get to her feet, but Fridrik doesn't give her the chance. He uses the handle of his sword to knock her in the head, then flips her onto her stomach, and pushes his knee into the small of her back, while simultaneously grabbing a handful of hair to pull her head up. "Watch them die." He hisses into her ear, using his left hand to push a dagger to her throat.

For what seems an eternity, Theresa can do nothing but watch as the invaders slaughter those who stood to defend their homes. She watches defenseless as their homes were set ablaze. And finally, she watches as the one who had betrayed them was placed before her, and his throat was slit, after his crime had been told to her. Then, her face was shoved hard back to the ground, followed by another strike to the back of her head. Soon she drifts into unconsciousness.

When she wakens, Theresa finds herself still laying where she fell, but on her back, with a small fire burning beside her. A few of the children who had survived were huddled close by. The older children were either watching over the youngest, or tending to others who likewise were not dead. Theresa forces herself to her feet, only to find herself nearly falling back down as the world spins around her. Taking a breath to collect herself, she eventually makes her way back to where the village once stood. Silently, she helps search for other survivors. Theresa is the one to find Wylland's body, and takes a moment to pray over it, to beg his forgiveness. For days she helps the survivors bury the dead. Some are those who could not or would not fight. Fewer still are the children. Most are those died with a pitchfork, a blade, or a makeshift spear in their hands. Taking very little time, at first, to eat. But she can't seem to keep anything down, which just makes her feel weaker still. So she stops eating altogether.

After the dead are buried, the others begin to rebuild. Although she is sure they will tell her that she must leave now, she instead hears their words of forgiveness and sorrow. They tell her they don't blame her, but the man who was not buried. They don't say his name, but she knows who it is just the same. After taking three days to sleep and regain her strength, Theresa gathers what she can, mostly weapons and her armor, and leaves the village of Lundene for the final time. She is determined to hunt down the man who killed her husband, and then... Then she will return to lay at Wylland's side once again, and find her rest.

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Last edited by In the Mix; 05-24-2020 at 05:18 PM. Reason: Second Edit.
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  #36  
Old 05-23-2020, 08:04 PM
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Name: Azariah Uladithas
Race: Half- Elf
Age: 21
Class: Artificer (Artillerist)
Background: Clan Crafter

Personality: Azariah is a confident young woman who can be as stubborn as her dwarven foster parents. They have taught her the value of their craft and she takes pride in the skills she learned over the years. Always curious and looking for an opportunity to learn something useful the young woman is dedicated to her craft and although she will always keep some secrets she will gladly explain her gadgets to anyone who shows serious interest in them.

At least that is what people see from the outside. Underneath it all she is very self-conscious and longing for acceptance and recognition. Her inventions are all she really has and she secretly hopes that one day they will be good enough so that she will be more than the mistake her father claims her to be. Fueled by this ambition she is always up for a challenge to test and perfect her skills.

Appearance: Although she usually would like to hide it Azariah’s sun elven heritage is clearly visible just from her deep bronze skin color and her antique golden eyes alone. And as much as she tries to hide her pointed ears they often find a way to poke out of the mess of braided black hair, which she mostly wears up out of convenience. Despite all of this it is clear that she is not fully elven, she is shorter and her features are softer than those of a "normal" sun elf.

The slender girl always carries herself with a certain grace that had gotten drilled into her during childhood but while she still knows how to behave properly she has adapted a lot to the dwarven way of life. When she is not wearing her armor the young woman prefers her clothes to be more practical than pretty, something she can work in. The only two thing she always has on her are her leather bag which contains most of her equipment and Emberling, her magical gauntlet.


Personality Traits:
I like to talk at length about my profession.
I'll settle for nothing less than perfection
Ideal:
Creativity. The world is in need of new ideas and bold action.
Bond:
I will work hard to to one day earn the approval of my family.
Flaw:
I judge others harshly, and myself even more severely.

Hometown: Evereska / Leilon
Backstory: Azariah had always known she was a mistake. Her father, Therenvaris Uladithas, the proud sun elf captian of the Vale Guard had made sure of that. She was just the result of a tragic mistake and him taking her in when her mother could no longer take care of her was an act of undeserved generosity.

Growing up with three brothers in a military household was far from easy for the headstrong girl. To get at least some form of recognition from her father Azariah grew quite ambitious to become the only thing he seemed to value: A capable fighter. But no matter how much she trained she could never match the fighting skills of her brothers. Unfortunally for her father though she seemed to be the only child that had inherited an aptitude for the arcane. For years Therenvaris tried to ignore that fact but in the end he begrudgingly decided to send the 13-year-old girl to the Stargazer Academy so the potential of his blood would not get wasted. And this way she would no longer be his problem.

Having been pushed off like this the deeply hurt young girl never really got comfortable in the strict boarding school and despite her good grades she became quite rebellious. After just one year the situation had escalated far enough for her to finally run away. For weeks Azariah wandered around aimlessly until she came to Leilon. There she met Brokrol and Owagina Flintbraid, a dwarven couple that worked in the small mining town as jewlers. Once they found out that the girl had nowhere to go they offered her a place to stay for the time being. The only payment they asked for was that she would help out around the shop.

And helping out she did. Over time she proved to be quite capable with the various tools around the workplace and the dwarves had somewhat “adopted” her as their own. But no matter how much she enjoyed creating beautiful necklaces or intricate arcane foci a part of her was still drawn to the arcane knowledge she had studied at the academy. So one night she started to tinker, armed with both her school notes and the tools of her foster parents. Countless failed attempts later she actually managed to successfully combine the two, resulting in an intricate gauntlet she could use to fire different magical ammunition. Inspired by this first success the young woman continued to work on different projects.

She would become a fighter in her own way and once she had proven her skill her father would have no choice but to finally recognize her. All she needed was a chance.

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Just a heads up, for the next weeks I will be pretty busy with uni stuff. I will try my best to keep up with my games but posting might get delayed.

Last edited by cookieyummy; 05-24-2020 at 08:21 PM.
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  #37  
Old 05-23-2020, 08:45 PM
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Hey folks!

Apologies for the silence, busy weekend with work and family. Will be updating the table and answering PMs and secret text here soon.

As per mentioned many times in the ad, shoot me a PM if you have questions.

If you have any setting-related questions I'll do what I can to answer them or you can always just find a faerun wiki
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A new round of Tug of War is raging, come join the fun!
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  #38  
Old 05-23-2020, 10:15 PM
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Kethri Ylsan - Cleric/Ranger

Character Info

Name:
Kethri Ylsan
Race: Human
Class: Cleric / Ranger
Background: Explorer

Background: Kethri was born among the barbarian tribes of the taiga. She was among only two dozen people taken in after their clanhold was destroyed by a frost dragon that took up residence in some nearby caves. The clansmen adapted well enough to "civilization" as it were in the rural city built around a series of hot springs; which offers not only heat, but fertile ground with which to raise crops and livestock.

At a young age, Kethri was residing in the monastery to Selune and exploring the tundra around the town, venturing further the older she got. By the time she reached puberty, she was equally comfortable in the wilds as in town and would often stay out for days at a time; usually with rangers who patroled the wilds.

Personality Traits:I can find common ground between the fiercest of enemies, even if ultimately I must kill them.
I am tolerant of other faiths and respect the worship other gods.

Ideal: Change is an inexorable tide that washes over lands and peoples. We must embrace the waves and let them carry us where they might go.

Bond: I owe my life to the people of the Icewind Dale, they saved my life and those of my people.

Flaw: Strangers and newcomers make me suspicious; for many bring ill news and ill deeds.

Hometown: Icewind Dale
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  #39  
Old 05-24-2020, 11:50 AM
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WIP Well this sounds interesting! Going to put my hat into the ring!

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Name:
Race: Human: vairiant
Class: Mystic: Order of the Wu Jen
Personality:
Appearance:
Background:
Personality Traits:
Ideal:
Bond:
Flaw:
Hometown:
Backstory:

Last edited by voodoozombie; 05-25-2020 at 08:25 PM.
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  #40  
Old 05-24-2020, 03:00 PM
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SnakeOilCharmer SnakeOilCharmer is offline
Mature Adult Dragon
 
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Name: Hanelyn Bodenshaw
Race: Halfling (Lightfoot)
Class: Draconic Sorcerer

Personality: Hanelyn is an irrepressibly optimistic individual fond of truly dreadful puns. She is extremely outgoing, to the point of rarely knowing when to shut up, and she has a particular tendency to babble when nervous. Hanelyn is usually the kind of person who can adapt quickly to make the best of any changing circumstances, however she remains in a state of awe about the sorcerous powers she has developed. She has a bad case of impostor syndrome as an adventurer - she still sees herself as a simple jeweller's apprentice, and it doesn't seem fair to her that the other adventurers in the party had to work all their lives on their skills, and yet her powers are just...there.

Appearance: Hanelyn is a generally unremarkable looking Halfling, except for a couple of things. She stands 2'10" tall, with large cup-shaped ears and a button nose. Her face is soft and round, indicating that she has never wanted for decent food and drink. Hanelyn's hair is a mass of curls that defy any attempt to style them. Her hair is usually a dull brown, but changes color everytime she casts a spell, usually to a bright and unnatural hue. The new color then slowly fades over the course of about an hour, unless she uses magic again in the meantime. Her left upper arm has a small patch of red dragon scales just above the elbow, which (on average) a couple of times a day begins itching in a manner impervious to scratching.

She doesn't wear armor, instead preferring clothing, the simplicity of whose primary colors contrast with their complicated runic patterning. These patterns have no particular meaning, but Hanelyn favors them because she thinks it's the kind of thing a sorcerer should wear.

Background: Guild Artisan

Personality Traits: I'm full of witty aphorisms and have a proverb pun for every occasion.
I always want to know how things work and what makes people tick.
Ideal: Generosity. My talents were given to me so that I could use them to benefit the world. (Good)
Bond: I aim to gain the same renown as an adventurer that my father accrued for his jewellery.
Flaw: I’ll do anything to get my hands on something rare or priceless.
Hometown: Waterdeep

Backstory:
 



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Last edited by SnakeOilCharmer; 05-25-2020 at 11:12 PM.
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  #41  
Old 05-24-2020, 04:54 PM
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Chaos Havik Chaos Havik is online now
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Wrthia Rashnnak
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Name:Wrthia Rashnnak
Race:Half Orc
Class: Barbarian-Storm Herald
Personality: Wrthia is a brash and crude woman who prefers to act rather then think too hard on something. She tends to worry more about her own since of glory or pride then most norms of society which she can barly tolerate at times. Still she's learned to play nice if only for some good ale at taverns. A woman born into an orc tribe Wrthia has a lust for battle and glory against enemies, be it bandits, monster,... or even a dragon. Despite her more violent roots she has developed her own code of honor in dealing with the many people around her now. This has allowed her to somewhat fit in more with "socity" but make no mistake that deep inside her is still raging orc blood that she take great pride in.
Appearance: Wrthia is a huge hulking woman of green skin and muscle. Her long unkempt hair is raven black and her eyes are a soft yellow with animal like slitted pupils. Her body is adorn with dark red tattoos that tell of herself and her clan. To most people that see them they will only enable to make out the bear like claws on her hand and around her face her arms bare jagged lines like lightening bolts.
Background: Outlander
Personality Traits:I'm driven by wanderlust that lead me away from home.
I place no stock in well mannered folk. Good manners will not save you from a hungry owl-bear
Ideal:I must earn glory in battle for myself and my clan.
Bond:My family is the most important thing in my life even if far from them
Flaw:Violence is my answer to almost all challenges
Hometown:Tribe set up in or near the Mere of Dead Men
Backstory: Wrthia's story begins in a tribe close to the Mere of Dead Men. Born to the union of a strong human warrior and an orc. Such unions might seem strange to outsiders. But orcs tend to wish to cultivate power in their bloodlines. She grew up in the violent life of orcs and raiding her exploits earning her tattoos of the bear for her impressive power and strength. In her adolescence the trible mystics marked her a touched by The Storm causing many superstitious orcs to avoid her least they incure the fury of the storm. Wrthia as a young woman would seek a life beyond just her tribe and would begin her life as one who wanders though she is no longer with her clan she ever seeks greater glory that she can ascribe to their name and to the orc blood that flows in her vains. The talk of a dragon, a mighty foe for any warrior has taken her to Phandlin.

Last edited by Chaos Havik; 05-24-2020 at 06:33 PM.
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  #42  
Old 05-24-2020, 08:32 PM
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Alright, Azariah should be done. Glad to see you as a DM Retry, this looks like a fun game
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Just a heads up, for the next weeks I will be pretty busy with uni stuff. I will try my best to keep up with my games but posting might get delayed.
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  #43  
Old 05-25-2020, 11:15 AM
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Crucius Crucius is online now
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Name: Worjhan Ulxaacnerbik
Race: Silver Dragonborn
Class: Zealot Barbarian
Personality: I am a fair man and judge people by their actions rather than their words. People say things all the time, but their words are worth nothing if they’re not backed up by action. If you want the world to be a better place, wishes will get you nowhere. You have to get up and do something about it. That’s how I live my life, I do. When things get hard, I keep doing. Bahamut will be with me if I do as he would have me do. Defend the good, punish the evil, that is what I do.
Appearance: I am midsized for a dragonborn but certainly tower over most other peoples I have met in my travels, standing at six foot six with broad and sturdy shoulders. My rusty red scales don’t reflect light as the good dragons do, but I ensure that what armor I do wear matches the scales of the great metallic dragons. I have an emblem of Bahamut that I wear on my girdle and am more than happy to tell others about the great Platinum Dragon when asked.
Background: Knight of the Order
- Faction: Platinum Cadre
- Trait #1: I see myself as a hero and feel the urge to help anyone in need.
- Trait #2: Actions speak louder than words.
- Ideal: Justice. The innocent need protection and the guilty need punishment. (Lawful)
- Bond: I wish to bring back the head of a chromatic dragon to gain favor with Bahamut and Pandrolyss.
- Flaw: I refuse to believe that inaction is ever the best choice and will rail against any plan that requires me to do nothing. Something must be done, even if it’s dangerous, in order for anything to get done.
Hometown: Djerad Thymar in Tymanther
Backstory: I grew up in the capital city of Tymanther, the nation of the Dragonborn. I grew up hearing the tales my family would tell about the world of Abeir and the tyranny of dragons. When my people lived in Abeir, before the spellplague, we were slaves to the dragons who lived their, godless monsters who ruled the world with an iron claw. I was taught that all dragons would follow the same route eventually and that if a dragon god was truly worthy of worship m they would have come to free us long ago. This was how I thought too. Until one day when walking through the market square, I encountered an older looking Dragonborn woman accompanied by three bright canaries. Something in her eyes pulled me in, although I saw many of the other market goers actively avoiding her and even one or two reviling her. As I closed in, I discovered why. This woman was trying to teach people about Bahamut. I had heard of Bahamut of course, the “good” god of dragons, a particular object of disdain for my people. But I couldn’t pass by without speaking to her, and I found that the easiest way to do that was to let her tell me more about the platinum dragon. Her name was Pandrolyss and she taught me much about Bahamut; his justice, goodness, and mercy; and although it went against all I had been taught before, there was something in my voice that made me believe her.
After having met secretly several times over the next few tendays, she invited me to meet with some likeminded Dragonborn called the Platinum Cadre. I quickly found myself joining their ranks and training in their knighthood, leaving the life I knew before behind. Shortly after this, Pandrolyss revealed her secret to me by transforming. She grew in size, her scales took on an incredible luster, and great shining wings expanded from her back. She was not a Dragonborn but a great Silver Dragon. This only greatened my understanding of how wrong my family was, not only were these followers of Bahamut a great and noble people, but Pandrolyss, a dragon, was the most honest, kind, and enlightened being I had ever spoken with. I dedicated myself to the platinum dragon.
Not long after, word of an attempt by the Cult of the Dragon to summon the terrible Tiamat brought many of us to the sword coast to do battle against their forces. The battles were bloody, but with the strength of Bahamut and the bravery of a group of adventurers, the cult was stopped. Many of us stopped at the temple of Bahamut in Baldur’s gate, and while there I heard tell of a white dragon threatening the town of Phandalin. I know that bringing the evil dragon’s head back to Tymanther will bring me glory in the sight of Bahamut and the respect of Pandrolyss. So, where’s the dragon?
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Last edited by Crucius; Yesterday at 01:09 PM.
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  #44  
Old 05-25-2020, 12:28 PM
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This looks pretty darn good. Placeholder for incoming application.
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GM: Heroes of the Purple Waste: - an enchanted adventure in a faraway land of mystical promise
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  #45  
Old 05-25-2020, 06:38 PM
TheWeeknd72 TheWeeknd72 is offline
Harvard M.D.
 
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Application
Name: Aerwyn Naenti Elnyn
Race: Dwarf
Class: Cleric (Life Domain)
Personality: Perfectionist
Appearance: Soldier
Background: Artisan
Personality Traits: Haughty as a dwarf usually is
Ideal: strengthen bonds of community and civilization
Bond: aim to prove he is the best artisan
Flaw: Greed
Hometown: Ten Towns
Backstory: A scrimshaw from the Ten Towns, Aerwyn is a Cleric of the clan Battlehammer and knows closely of his distant relative and great Bruenor Battlehammer. Not necessarily a relative but close friend and acquaintance of the Clans in and around Mithral Hall, Ten Towns Luskan and the Spires of the icy crags of the frozen North.

One of the best carvers of fish bones Aerwyn's greed has made him greedy, haughty but generally a people's man. His life sustaining healing word is has healed many and goes without saying one of Moradins best.

Typically a loner Aerwyn champions good causes and usually saves the day through a pass through the Underdark. Fighting wave after wave of drow and duregar, Aerwyn fights for the Lord's Alliance. A faction of loosley conglomerated nobles, leaders and heroes.

Taking his show on the road, Aerwyn looks for adventure abound. Traveling South through and along the Sword Coast, looking for recidivism and communities who fringes on the broken hubris of defeatism, Naenti is often looked upon as a keeper of his word and often shows loyalty to his companions, friends and holders of his contracts for service.

Travelling with various oddities and assortments, Aerwyns travel through Baldurs Gate left him at a impass. Some not held to the fealty and lineage of Noble Gentry and heraldry, leaving for Phandelven and blocked by a bandit gang of inoculus bugbears and goblins...Aerwyn met a fine cast or two of adventures passing through the triboar trail and southern Cormyr.

Sending word to the Lord's Alliance, his greed for mercenary work as a cleric of Moradin and the life domain, the hill dwarves sharpened battle axe and carving knife for knuckle head trout has given him immeasurable prestige and honor, passing through small hamletts and ramshackle towns.

character sheetcharacter sheet pre-generated purchased at DM Guild website


Last edited by TheWeeknd72; 05-26-2020 at 08:07 PM.
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