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  #91  
Old Apr 18th, 2021, 09:10 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by NightCheese View Post
@Retry Hello! Thinking about submitting, but need to choose between two character ideas. Placeholder!
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If one of the concepts involves cheese, go with the cheese. Just saying.
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  #92  
Old Apr 18th, 2021, 02:58 PM
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@Shula - I dont have a preference with images as long as they aren't obnoxiously large. The recommendation in the ad is to try and prevent getting ones that are 800+ px in size

@Nightcheese - Hey Nightcheese! No worries, take your time and go with whichever you think will be more fun!
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  #93  
Old Apr 18th, 2021, 03:21 PM
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Redacting my earlier stated intent to apply. Looks like a great campaign and a great group, but my writing verbosity/thorough-ness isn't quite up to snuff. Best of luck to the other applicants!
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  #94  
Old Apr 18th, 2021, 04:31 PM
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How do you feel about custom backgrounds?
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  #95  
Old Apr 18th, 2021, 04:52 PM
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Are you talking in the way of homebrewed entirely, cherry-picking from other backgrounds, or just reskinning something?
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  #96  
Old Apr 18th, 2021, 05:08 PM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Retry View Post
Are you talking in the way of homebrewed entirely, cherry-picking from other backgrounds, or just reskinning something?
Given I don't have yet a clear picture in mind, I'm asking in general, from tweaking some aspects of a pre-existing background to devising a new concept from scratch.
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  #97  
Old Apr 18th, 2021, 06:35 PM
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Reskinning and plucking traits and aspects from the other backgroundstweaking backgrounds as describe in the PHB are allowed.
Homebrewed ones such as what folks might find on dndwiki are not
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  #98  
Old Apr 19th, 2021, 12:50 AM
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Application (WIP, almost done
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Name: Bimmett "Bimmer" Peartree; aka Bim the String Slayer
Race: Halfling (lightfoot)
Class: Warlock 2 / Bard 1
Personality: Bim is friendly and outgoing, but somewhat aloof due to his narcissism. He enjoys the spotlight, and if performing, always tries as hard as he can to put on an amazing show. He does not have many (any) close friends, and he tends to keep people at a distance emotionally. Bim would never be intentionally cruel, but he has unintentionally caused offense in the past due to misunderstanding social cues.
Appearance: If there is a new fashion trend, Bim is wearing it. His latest statement is a pair of tight red leather pants and knee-high black boots with thick soles and raised heels. These are worn with a long sleeve shirt and black vest. His ever present "long lute" is strapped across his back. Short curly hair and beard frame an active and expressive face.

Background: Entertainer
Bond: One day I will return to my city and prove that I am the greatest musician of them all.
Flaw: I secretly believe that everyone is beneath me.
Hometown: Beluir, Luiren
Personality Traits: I take great pains to always look my best and follow the latest fashions.
Ideal: Aspiration. I'm determined to make something of myself.

Backstory: Bim was raised in Beluir, the largest city in Luiren. From a young age, he loved hearing music. He would dance, clap, and jump around any time he heard his mother singing, or when the hymns at the Yondallan temple floated across the city. His parents gave him a number of toy instruments, but over time, he began to favor the lute. Seeing his interest, his parents hired a local musician to teach young Bim how to play.

His efforts were mostly in vain.

Bim was enthusiastic, but his preferred style was much faster, and louder, than the traditional songs he was learning. The young halfling tried to play every single song as fast as possible, which drove his teacher crazy. Several more teachers came and went, and while his parents were concerned, Bim was apparently oblivious to these rapid changes in tutelage. He was getting better, faster, and louder, and so he figured that the teachers were doing a great job. Whenever a new teacher appeared, Bim assumed this new one was just a better instructor than the last one. He also started experimenting with a variety of instruments, finally settling on a lute with an exceptionally long neck with several extra frets. Unfortunately, his music was so experimental, modern, and .... strange, Bim found it difficult to make friends with any other musicians. Even the temples turned down his services, given his take on their traditional songs was usually far to "energetic" for their tastes.

Several years pass in this fashion until one day, he was practicing near the edge of the Lluirwood when a strange creature emerged from the wood. Clad in a light green dress with horns coming out of its forehead and two glowing yellow eyes visible on an otherwise shadowed face. Enthralled with this strange sound, the creature simply watched and listened as Bim blistered through song after song. So intent was he on his music, he failed to notice the being until it was only a few meters away. Surprised, he stopped and stared - he was fearful, but for some reason, he did not flee. The being kneeled down, and a soft female voice emerged, "I have never heard such beauty come from mortal hand. I am known as Spring Rain Falling on Alyssum, and I can help you. I can lend you power such that your music will echo throughout the Realms."

Bim's association began that day with the Feywild, and his true study of the instrument he describes as a "long lute" started in earnest. He has traveled throughout the known lands for several years, paying his way with his music, and searching for stories and adventures to use as the basis for new and exciting songs. After all, his patron was as good as her word, she provided him power, but she also comes to collect her due.

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  #99  
Old Apr 19th, 2021, 11:21 AM
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Table has been updated to reflect current apps. Please let me know if you have any issues/questions.
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  #100  
Old Apr 19th, 2021, 12:31 PM
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Application
Name: Joric Jassan
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Race: Half Elf
Class: Rogue/Swashbuckler
Alignment: Chaotic Good

Background:
Far Traveler
  • All Eyes on You: This far north along the Sword Coast, his accent, mannerisms, figures of speech, and most definitely his appearance all mark Joric Jassan as foreign. Curious glances are directed his way wherever he goes, which while a nuisance, gains Joric the friendly interest of scholars and others intrigued by far-off lands, to say nothing of everyday folk who are eager to hear stories of his homeland.

    Joric can parley this attention into access to people and places a random local might not otherwise have, for Joric and his traveling companions. Noble lords, scholars, and merchant princes, to name a few, might be interested in hearing about his distant homeland and people.
Personality Trait
Over the centuries Jorik's homeland of Southern Tethyr has been heavily influenced culturally by its proximity to Calimsham. As a result, most of the folk in Southern Tethyr are almost indistinguishable from the Calimshite peoples further to the south and Joric is no different.
  • Besides speaking with a heavy Calimshite accent, Joric also wears the traditional garbs of his people, complete with desert style keffiyeh which Joric wears religiously. Despite knowing that it would be better to blend in, Joric's noble upbringing forbids him from hiding his foreign roots.
  • Above all else, Joric will never forget nor will he forgive what happened to his father and his family back in Tethyr. While well aware that he has neither the means nor the expertise to exact his revenge today, he is acutely aware of what he must do. As a result, when given a choice, Joric will always attempt to make which ever decision or take which ever road will lead him closer to his ultimate goal of avenging his father.

Flaw
In Southern Tethyr it is considered low class to lie directly to another's face. As a Tethyrian noble, Joric considers such an act beneath his station and will become highly irritable and confrontational if publicly accused of a lie. With regard to the actual act of lying, Joric will almost certainly not lie, especially to adversaries or those he considers beneath him.

 


 

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  #101  
Old Apr 20th, 2021, 06:47 AM
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Hey Retry! Thought I'd submit my application for your campaign- I've been thinking about the concept for a while now, and this campaign seems perfectly suited to the character. Anyway, let me know what you think- any and all feedback is appreciated!

Application
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Name: Korgabu
Class: Monk (Way of the Sun Soul)
Race: Half-Orc
Alignment: LE
Background: Outlander (tribal marauder)
Hometown: Gulgumak-Kamur, a small tribal village in Icewind Dale (now destroyed)
  • Personaliy trait: If you do me an injury, I will crush you, ruin your name, and salt your fields.
  • Personaliy trait: I can stare down a hell hound without flinching.
  • Ideal: Glory. I must earn glory in battle, for myself and for the memory of my tribe.
  • Bond: My tribe was butchered, and it is up to me to find the one responsible- and exact revenge.
  • Flaw: Violence is my answer to almost any challenge.

Appearance
Short and lean, yet muscular and resilient, Korgabu regards the world with a smug disdain for anything he considers weaker than him- which is to say, most things in life. The half-orc's clean-shaven head sports an intricate tattoo on his left temple, and several rings pierce his left ear- a mark of pride among his tribe. A wide jaw, flat nose and perpetual scowl further serve to lend a wild, dangerous look to his appearance. Nonetheless, the half-orc warrior sports a short, carefully groomed beard.

Korgabu wears little in the way of clothing, preferring to go bare-chested in order to show off the many scars he won in battle, and to test himself against the elements. Nonetheless, he wears cloth wristguards and black iron pauldrons, held in place by leather straps. Korgabu's favorite weapon, a thin yet sturdy spear, is strapped to his back, while a crude, frayed bandolier holds an array of sharp throwing knives. Baggy, rust-coloured pantaloons complete Korgabu's outfit, held up by a chain belt sporting a bronze belt buckle. Favouring the touch of earth and stone upon his feet, the half-orc eshews boots, choosing to walk the barefoot on the snow-covered plains of his homeland and the cobbled streets of more civilized cities alike.

History
Korgabu was born into the Gulgumak tribe, a clan of orcs, humans, goblins and bugbears, which claims the settlement Gulgumak-Kamur in Icewind Dale. No ordinary member of the tribe, Korgabu is the prince of his people, expected from childhood to be a paragon of their culture. Rather than buckle under the pressure his position heaped upon him, Korgabu felt great pride in fulfilling his duty- proving to all his people that he was the greatest among them. Tragically, while the half-orc aspired to nothing more than living up to the tribe's expectations, he would never succeed.

The Gulgumak are known for their proud martial tradition. Their ancestors travelled to Icewind Dale from the south, on a religious exodus honouring Tempus. There, in the unforgiving, freezing tundra, they would prove themselves to their deity, exposing themselves to both the cold and the predators of that land. Pursuing a lifestyle of hardship and honourable combat, these disciples of the lord of battles purged themselves of weakness. In time, their descendants would develop a philosophy in which this attitude would be reflected- finding a path to inner peace through the singular pursuit of courage, honour and skill in battle.

When Korgabu reached adulthood, he was sent away from his people to complete a rite of passage. He was to journey into the wild, find a great beast, and bring back a trophy- or die in the attempt. It was a common enough challenge, and Korgabu relished the opportunity to prove himself. Thus far, he had only hunted alongside others of his tribe- an injury to his pride, having to accept the aid of those of lesser station by his father's decree. But now, he would hunt alone. He would set out and prove himself worthy of Tempus's blessing, as befitting a prince of the Gulgumak.

For fourteen days and nights did the half-orc prince stalk the snow-covered plains in search of prey, until at last, he found news of a challenge worthy of the name. Korgabu met a travelling band of ragged, broken nomads. Initially, the proud warrior dismissed the wretches, judging them to be beneath his notice. But then they spoke of a Worg which had attacked their tribe in the night, killing several of their warriors while the women and children fled. Deciding this Worg was a worthy challenge, Korgabu set out to find the beast. After five days, he finally found the creature and roared his challenge.

The Worg was a fierce opponent, its fangs snapping at Korgabu's throat even as the half-orc's spear sought its way past the monster's defenses. The wolf-like creature inflicted many a wound on the warrior, yet in the end it was Korgabu who emerged victorious, channeling his inner strength into a searing lance of energy, which slew the Worg. The half-orc took a moment to skin the Worg, then retreated, to announce his victory to his tribe.

Yet when he returned to Gulgumak-Kamur, horror awaited Korgabu. He found the people of his tribe dead, frozen and shattered. Uttering a guttural, anguished cry, the prince ran into the settlement, searching for anyone who might yet live. Hours later, he finally fell to his knees, as he realized there were no survivors. For a long time he sat there in the snow, amid the broken remains of his people. Then, crying his rage and sorrow to the sky, Korgabu swore an oath, vowing he would slay whatever monster was responsible for the carnage. This, he decided, was the true test Tempus had set before him- not mere battle against a simple beast, but to overcome the heartrending pain of his people's demise through resolute focus on one goal- the destruction of the beast responsible. The lord of battles would expect nothing less of the Gulgumak's champion.

Korgabu travelled south, in search of the vicious monster. He travelled with others when he could- many, he found, were fleeing the wrath of a terrible beast. This creature, he learned, was a white dragon- the same monster which had been responsible for wiping out his tribe. With each passing moment, the hatred Korgabu felt for this creature grew, yet he knew that a dragon was beyond even his skill. He needed to retreat to the south, away from the beast's hunting grounds. After all, only a fool would meet such a challenge unprepared.

And so, the half-orc travelled to Neverwinter and beyond, finally arriving at Phandalin. There, he stumbled upon a celebration held to honour a band of conquering heroes. These, Korgabu thought, might just help him slay the beast which had decimated his home...

Personality
Born and raised as the prince of a proud warrior tribe, Korgabu is a smug, self-centered individual, used to being adored by all who look upon him. From a young age, the prince was taught that inner peace could only be attained through honing one's skill in combat- for only during battle do all other cares fall away. Korgabu has taken this lesson to heart, and as a result, tends to see the world in black and white- those who can provide him with a challenge, who are worthy of his respect, and those who cannot.

Korgabu values tradition, and respects those who adhere to their creed- whatever form that creed might take. He is boastful, proud, and quick to anger. Yet he is also fiercely loyal to those he calls friend. And deep down, the prince begins to realize that his life so far has been very sheltered indeed. Only recently, Korgabu has come to understand that not everyone thinks as the Gulgumak do- in fact, very few do. And with his tribe gone, the warrior prince has begun to wonder about his place in the world...


 
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  #102  
Old Apr 20th, 2021, 11:50 AM
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@everyone - Just so folks are aware, the current festival isn't for the players. While the town knows of them they are not regarded as heroes (yet).

It's the Midsummer festival, which is a celebration of the midpoint of summer and is typically filled with feasts, carousing, betrothals, and overall enjoying the wonderful weather. Any storms that occur during Midsummer night are viewed as a bad omen or a superstitious tell of impending bad luck. Its also sometimes viewed as the gods disapproving of any romances or marriages that occurred during the event.

Speaking as a man who got married at the end of February when it was snowing heavily and -12F/-24.5C out I say 'phooey' on that. Fight the gods if you must for love!

ps: yes, our wedding guests were not happy... until we revealed it was open bar
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  #103  
Old Apr 20th, 2021, 01:41 PM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Retry
Speaking as a man who got married at the end of February when it was snowing heavily and -12F/-24.5C out I say 'phooey' on that.
Considering I spent my sister's wedding as the best man, I was required towearing a suit while it was 35C outside, I wholeheartedly support this decision. Sunshine is overrated !
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  #104  
Old Apr 20th, 2021, 06:35 PM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Retry View Post


ps: yes, our wedding guests were not happy... until we revealed it was open bar
Open Bar makes up for just about anything in my book!
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  #105  
Old Apr 20th, 2021, 09:34 PM
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Name : Le-iloa


Race : High-elf
Classes : Rogue
Alignment : Neutral-Good

Hometown : Loudwater
Background : Criminal

Personality Traits :
  • The best way to get me to do something is to tell me I can’t do it.
  • I always have a plan for what to do when things go wrong.

Ideal : Freedom. Chains are meant to be broken, as are those who would forge them.

Bond : On his deathbed, my father told me a secret. A secret born of his mistakes and youth. A secret that I have now inherited. In order to make amends, I must become the greatest thief that ever lived and steal back that which was stolen and return it to its rightful place.

Flaw: When I see something valuable, I can’t think about anything but how to steal it. The fish in me likes shiny things. And the sharper the hook, the meaner the person, the greater the challenge.

Physical Description/Personality:

I am of average height and slight of build. I've always thought my eyes too close set and the bridge of my nose too sharp. And I've a notch in the upper curve of my right ear. It's the same as my father's........and his mother's.........and her mother's. I keep it hidden. Not because it's a feature that defines me and makes me memorable when I'd rather not be remembered. But because it's mine.

As all women or men, I know how to use the curve of my hips. I may not saunter or be blatant like some tavern server, but I'm not under any false idea that it shouldn't be used and instead demurred. It's a bit'a flash and if that flash be useful, something to befuddle and fool, then so be it. There's plenty'a pockets empty because some man or woman thinks everything is a prize to win or use. I ain't no prize nor something to use unless it makes sense to me. For friends, my eyes are bright and open, as they are to most; those that toil, and struggle, or need a hand. To everyone else, them that don't see toil and struggle, or benefit unjustly from it, they be shiny yet shallow. Green, beautiful - despite my nose - and dangerous. No matter what use they think to seek from me.

Background :

My father was a smuggler as were all my family. Most smuggled for a cause, but some did not. Some smuggled for themselves, for greed, for power, for things worse. Everyone has those kinds that they share blood with. Just like I figure that any alive had to have a killer in their family. Someone who fought, and fought well, to take what they wanted and survive. Civilization didn jus sprout from some fine green pasture. It grew from the weeds of our blood. Men and women who were strong. Men and women who were killers. I wouldn't be here any other way. Nor would anyone else no matter how high brow their words. Somewhere, way back when there was jus mud and fire, there is a killer in my line. A killer in everyone's line.

Luckily we gave that up and started smuggling instead. I'm sure in the beginning my family stole because it was easier and they were good at it. But I know that wasn't the only reason. Those of us who have souls worth some weight give up killing when its not needed and only resort to it when forced or we're protecting others. And somewhere down that hazy line, we started stealing and moving goods when the cause was right. Mistakes were made, certainly. But my family, at least most of them, gave up smuggling for just themselves long ago. Or so I thought.

A deathbed isn't a place to learn of mistakes. It's a place to let go. To hold a cold hand, remember how they smiled, and to let go. But I know why he did it. I can still see him looking at me. His eyes are the same for me as when I was very small and he smelled like fish. Much is smuggled surrounded by fish. I didn't mind the smell then because under it was him. Clove smoke and lemon. Rough warm hands and sharp stubble. And I promised to make it right so my father's eyes didn't change in the end. For him or for me.










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