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  #1  
Old 11-27-2016, 07:46 PM
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TheJester TheJester is offline
Very Old Dragon
 
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  #2  
Old 11-28-2016, 07:20 PM
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StoneSung StoneSung is offline
Paladin at Heart
 
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Might of the Mind
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Name: Ander Magiate
Race: Human (Variant: Spell Sniper)
Class: Wizard (Evocation School)
Background: Cloistered Scholar

Personality Traits: "Most are surprised when I am calm, even when faced with disaster. That is mostly due to me being lost in my thoughts and contemplations. Though sometimes the disaster at hand is far more interesting than the aspect of fear, or even personal safety."

Ideals: Knowledge and Logic "The best way to better yourself and others is through the path of knowledge and discovery, though you must not let your emotions get in the way of your quest."

Bonds: "My lifes work is in a series of treatises and tomes, which contain all the gathered knowledge of my years. Someday I hope these will be the base for new and powerful magic."

Flaws: "The price of knowledge is worth a few singed eyebrows or some broken bones, and sometimes even an entire civilization is an acceptable price for ancient knowledge."






Backstory: "My story eh? Didn't your mother ever tell you to not disturb a Wizard at work? No matter, I'll tell you all you wish to know, but I'm still somewhat insulted by how you don't know the name of master wizard Ander Magiate!"
For most people their lives begin at birth, but Ander is not most people. To him his life truly began when he finally got away from his family and joined a cloister of scholars. Taking it back a few steps, Ander was born to two loving parents as the yougest child of seven chldren. His mother and father ran an inn together for the weary traveler and the occasional adventurer. From the time he could walk Ander worked the inn. He served food and drinks to the patrons, and cleaned up whatever messes they made. He tried his hand helping in the kitchen with his father but more than a few times burnt the food to a crisp. His other siblings worked ad well, and with their parents they helped keep their inn, the Weary Travelers Rest, stay afloat. This was all he ever knew until one day a peculiar looking group of elderly men seeked lodging at their establishment. The group was clothed in the most extravagant robes he had ever seen, with overly large (almost comically) pointed wizard hats. From what Ander overheard they were a sect of wizards searching the land for new potential apprentices, according the oldest lookng among them their previous ones had run off with a coven of necromancers. Ander sat enthralled near the, as they recounted tales of daring duels and expeditions into terrifying dungeons. While his siblings always crowded the dashng rogues or swarthy fighters, Ander had always sat quietly near the mages who every once and a while showed up at their inn. As the wizards continued swapping stories over their meals one of them finally noticed Ander. The elderly wizard beckoned him closer and told him to pull up a chair then they asked him a series of questions, most of which he didn't understand. He answered as truthfully as he could, he told them his name, why he listened to them, whether or not he understood basic magic (which he did not). After they had finished their questions another of the elderly mages approached, unlike the others the mage was a woman and with a warm smile he handed Ander a small leather bound tome. Then they were gone, leaving behind only their meals and a few gold coins. That was when his life took a turn, he devoted almost all of his time to studying magic. The tome the wizened woman had given him was merely a key to unlock his minds power. On his sixteenth birthday he was sent to a prestigious cloister of mages to further his knowledge. It was at this cloister that Ander spent the rest of his life, it was there he met his wife, fathered a son and daughter, and finally met his end. His death was a most tragic one to his colleagues and children (but not to his wife who had passed two years prior), to explain in the extravagant words of Ander himself from within Limbo "It took five days of spells and cowardly strikes from underlings for the corrupted mages to finally take me down. Five days of no sleep, food, or even lavatory breaks! You see these necromancers from the deepest depths of hell broke free of their eternal prisons, and began to wreck havoc on the country side outside my cloisters keep! I, being the most esteemed mage of the keep, decided to go out and meet them in a magic duel! The ground itself was charred and frozen by the constant spells, it cracked open every once in a while nearly swallowing me whole! The vile dark mages of course had undead minions who I destroyed with ease, but some were able to get in a few stabs. It was not until the fifth day did I tire, even then only one necromancer was left. In an epic duel that will surely be sung of by bards and mages alike! I killed the vile perversion of a magic user, then died from my wounds. Then I wound up here, surely because this land needs a mage of the likes of me!"


 
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Sworn to the Oath of Sangus

"Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Last edited by StoneSung; 12-01-2016 at 02:44 PM.
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  #3  
Old 11-28-2016, 07:34 PM
Darays Darays is offline
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Name: Xahar Moonrunner
Race: Wood Elf
Class: Shadow Sorcerer 3/Ranger 2
Alignment: Neutral
Background: Faction Agent (Veiled Eye)

History: Xahar has spent the majority of his life in the Veiled Eye, an Elven organization that acts as spies, assassins, and secret police. Since about the age of 20, he has been trained sorcery and martial disciplines. As part of that training, the recruits are repeatedly exposed to portals to the Shadowfell; part as exposure to the Elves ancient foes, but also to trigger latent shadow magic. Xahar was one of the candidates who was touched by that exposure, and not just magically. His eyes were affected so as to appear blind: white and milky, yet he sees better than before; anyone who touches him would tell you he is cold as the grave, but he never feels it.

For the last 250 years, Xahar has hunted the woods, either alone or in a pair; defending shadow portals from incursions, disruptive creatures to his clans area, and foiling of traitorous plots. While adept in the sorcerous arts, he is just as willing to mix it up in melee with blades and magic, or provide ranged support with a bow.



Character Sheet
Made it public, and added editing permissions for TheJester
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Do I really look like a guy with a plan? You know what I am? I'm a dog chasing cars. I wouldn't know what to do with one if I caught it. You know, I just... Do things.

Last edited by Darays; 11-28-2016 at 07:50 PM.
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  #4  
Old 11-28-2016, 08:13 PM
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Grenadier Grenadier is offline
Wizards Only, Fools
 
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Name: Jasmal Jassan
Race: Air Genasi
Class: Mystic
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Description: Like most of her kind, Jasmal is fairly short and has a slender form. Her skin is pure white in color and is always cool to the touch. Her eyes are a light sky blue color as is her hair, which she wears quite long—to the middle of her back—and unfettered so that it is free to be tossed about in the wind. Speaking of which, her unusual heritage manifests itself in a slight but constant breeze that perpetually surrounds her, which fluctuates in intensity with Jasmal's mood and often tosses about the ends of her long strands of hair. Her heritage also sometimes manifests in other ways, such as whistling sounds when she makes sharp movements or the way her voice caries over the wind. Her fair flesh is marked with the dark ink of various tattoos, including one that is particularly prominent. Jasmal favors wearing light and loose clothing that is somewhat revealing but often obscured by her heavy white fur cloak and her gleaming chainshirt. Her attire is typically that best suited for travel, often well worn and without much consideration for fashion though a somewhat eclectic one manages to manifests itself.

Perhaps Jasmal would be considered beautiful despite her rugged guise if she were not such a cold individual. Although she is not particularly selfish, she is generally more concerned with her own self-interest and survival than for other people. She certainly does not mind playing dirty when the need arises, especially when dealing with unscrupulous individuals. Like most air genasi, Jasmal worships the Pantheon of the Winds, but she has also developed a strong belief in the dogma of Beshaba, the Mistress of Misfortune. Rarely motivated to acts of cruelty, her superstitious fear of misfortune nevertheless governs many aspects of her life. Her faith is clearly indicated by the intricate tattoo of a stag's antler imprinted around her left eye in midnight blue ink. This only serves to further tarnish most people's perception of the strange humanoid.

No discussion of Jasmal's personality would be complete without mentioning Swagger, the nomad's bullying turquoise psicrystal. Actually a fragment of Jasmal's own personality, Swagger is nevertheless quite different from his owner. He is a brutish bully and often prompts Jasmal to display her more overt powers at the first sign of resistance, while Jasmal tends to prefer clever planning and subtle methods.


Background: Guttersnipe

Jasmal was born to Zasheida Jassan, a prostitute working in Calimsham. A Tashalar merchant named Gharbei Jalamba fell in love with her during his stay in the region and when he learned that she was pregnant with his child he proposed to take her back to Tashalar as one of his concubines. However, after taking one look at the freakish baby Jasmal, Gharbei made straight for his ships and left his child behind in the care of her single mother. Zasheida blamed Jasmal for her misfortune, and she never forgave her child.

Life was hard growing up in the brothel. The men that came to do business there had no interest in the children, and the women that worked there had little time for them. The other children singled Jasmal out for being different, and so she spent much of her time alone. Still, she had shelter and food, so life was fair enough as long as she occupied herself with her imagination. However, her situation would soon turn much worse after a fire burned down the brothel and claimed Zasheida's life. Jasmal found herself alone on the streets.

Jasmal nearly starved to death within the first few days of homelessness. However, it was on the edge of death when she heard a voice. It was not encouraging her to live but taunting her with death. When she challenged the voice, Jasmal made her first friend, a turquoise stone that seemed to share a psychic bond with her. She named the stone Swagger, and the bully helped instill within her that instinct to survive. Of course, the stone was actually a fragment of her own personality manifested through an innate psychic power that had sparked within her mind. Using this power, Jasmal began to adapt to the life of an urchin.

History: Jasmal's fledgling power eventually drew the notice of a local warlord named Khemed Khalid, a goliath mercenary that had trained in mysticism during his campaigns abroad. Khemed also had his hands in the criminal black market, and one evening while he was inspecting a shipment of smuggled goods he crossed paths with one that he would describe as the fastest pickpocket in Calimsham. He laid a trap for the urchin, and when Jasmal sprung it Khemed generously offered for her to move into his villa rather than cutting off her hand.

Khemed instructed Jasmal in several mystical techniques and a measure of esoteric lore. He enjoyed keeping the girl near to him because of her extrasensory prowess and telepathic abilities, and so she was often seated at the table whenever Khemed met with important guests at his villa. The warlord became more reliant on this security measure over time, and Jasmal began to accompany him as he went about his duties. His trust in her grew until he tasked her with rooting out those that were disloyal to him within his own forces.

Eventually, Khemed was hired to drive off a band of goblins that had been raiding the desert caravans, and he took Jasmal with him. The goblins had organized under the leadership of a blue called Txobs Madmind. During the attack on the goblin encampment, Jasmal engaged Txobs in a psychic duel and emerged victorious. The goblins called her Mindmelt afterward and feared her from the day forth. However, Khemed also changed his opinion of his apprentice.

Khemed became convinced that Jasmal could bear him a powerful heir. Jasmal was appalled at the thought of serving a role that was once intended for her mother, and she resolved to escape. By a stroke of either luck or misfortune, a half-elven priestess of Beshaba named Tessele Braegan attended the wedding ceremony. When Tess learned of Jasmal's situation, she resolved to help the young woman escape. The two of them killed a pair of guards and slipped away into the night on the eve of the wedding.

They fell in with a couple of outlaws who were equally as eager to disappear into Spider Swamp. However, they had to pass through the territory of a bullywug tribe under the leadership of a cunning chieftain called Oaku Roaku. The bullywugs caught them in an ambush and held them as captives. During this period of hardship, Tess converted Jasmal into a follower of Beshaba. Their luck changed soon thereafter, and they were able to turn the tables on the bullywugs and slew many of them. Jasmal adopted the title Bullybane in order to conceal her identity.

However, Jasmal is more highly regarded as Spidersmite by the people of those swamps. The daughter of a merchant that traded near the swamp was being held for ransom by an aranea. Tess negotiated a deal to rescue the daughter for half the ransom as a tribute to the Maid of Misfortune. Jasmal was able to match the creatures magic with her own mystic powers, and not only was the girl saved but a great deal of treasure was recovered.

Word of their success spread fast, and they were approached about an aranea that was rumored guarding an even larger treasure horde. Unfortunately, they would soon learn that a very different sort of vermin guarded this bounty...

 
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"I'm not going to be the ref! I'm a villain! Don't you see?!"
-Frank Reynolds, It's Always Sunny in Philladelphia

Dim the Drowned|Telephus Lorre
Tribulations of the Stag

Last edited by Grenadier; 11-29-2016 at 12:48 AM.
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  #5  
Old 11-28-2016, 09:40 PM
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InCORAgible InCORAgible is offline
Old Dragon
 
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Briza Baltana
 

Name: Briza Baltana
Race: Drow
Class: Cleric
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Personality Trait 1: I idolize Drizzt Do'Urden and constantly refer to that persons deeds and example.
Personality Trait 2: I've spent so long in the temple that I have little practical experience dealing with people in the outside world.
Ideal 1: I always try to help those in need, no matter what the personal cost. (Good)
Ideal 2: We must help bring about the changes the gods are constantly working in the world. ( Chaotic)
Bond: Everything I do is for the common people.
Flaw: My piety sometimes leads me to blindly trust those that profess faith in my god.

History/writing sample
 


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  #6  
Old 11-28-2016, 10:31 PM
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Kelda Kelda is offline
Mature Adult Dragon
 
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Name: Kelda
Race: Genasi (Water)
Class: Ranger
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Personality Trait 1: I am always picking things up, fiddling with them, and sometimes accidentally breaking them.
Personality Trait 2: I may have been raised by wolves.
Ideal 1: Life is like the seasons, in constant change, and we must change with it.
Ideal 2: Inquiry and curiosity are the pillars of progress.
Bond: Younger brother.
Flaw: Don't expect me to save those who can't save their selves. It is Nature's way that the strong survive and the weak perish.

Kelda's Backstory:

 




Character Sheet: http://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=65750
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  #7  
Old 11-28-2016, 10:39 PM
Braxx Braxx is offline
Mature Adult Dragon
 
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Name: Korza
Race: Goliath
Class: Barbarian [Path of Totem Warrior: Bear]
Alignment: Neutral Good
Background: Wanderer

Writing sample:
They came in the dead of the night, slavers looking for more merchandise to fill their markets. The warriors put up a fight but we were sorely outnumbered five to one. So the tribe retreated to the mountain passes to make our stand but still they pursued. For blood lust had wet their blades and greed for gold filled their hearts.

Korza picked his spot well, the ice bridge was narrow and slippery. Armed with his mighty warhammer he stared down the horde, buying time for his people to flee while he held them back. When they saw the lone warrior they howled with glee and charged forward.

His weapon sang long and true, breaking bone and bruising flesh with equal ease. He turned their victory cries into screams of terror as he flung one raider after another to an icy death below.

Korza's triumphant roar was cut shot as an arror thudded into his chest, then another followed by one to his leg causing him to stumble. Breathing heavily he saw that the enemy were making another charge. Rising slowly to his feet, a grim smile on his lips as his attackers closed in. It was a good day to die and walk into the halls of his ancestors.

Summoning all his remaining strength, he lifted the warhammer high over his head and swung down as hard as he could. The ground rumbled as the ice fractured and collapsed. The last thing he remember was laughing wildly as he ensured tge survival of his people and then the whiteness closed in and there was silence....

When next he opened his eyes, he saw greeted by an unfamilar sight. Where was he? This overcast sky cast a dismal pall over the land hardly seemed like the rich fields of his Ancestors, unless the stories he was told as a boy weren't true. Determined to find answers he picked up his weapon and strode forward in search of answers.

Character link : https://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=65753
(Currently wip)

Last edited by Braxx; 11-28-2016 at 11:26 PM. Reason: Added details
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