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  #16  
Old 09-19-2017, 02:18 AM
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Zinrokh Zinrokh is offline
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Quote:
Originally Posted by SiroVai
How fixed are you that player shouldn't have much experience with the module? I've DM'd a LMoP game here that lasted almost a year and got to chapter 3, but I heavily customised it to something barely recognisable from the source material.
The only reason to limit would be to avoid metagaming that might give an advantage to a player or detract from some of the challenges.

If a player has played the campaign before and feels that they could enjoy a second playthrough while avoiding any metagaming they would are more than welcome to apply.
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  #17  
Old 09-19-2017, 02:23 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by SiroVai
Would you allow a character to hail from Phandalin?
Yes.

You would have to narrate yourself into the adventure hook. So you would need have a reason to be escorting a supply wagon from Neverwinter to Phandelver for the opening chapter. I see no reason why the Rockseekers would not hire locals for the job.
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  #18  
Old 09-19-2017, 02:26 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by SiroVai
Would you allow a character to be a member of the Order of the Gauntlet?
Yes.

Factions or at least faction NPCs play a minor roll in this adventure. I'd encourage anyone playing in the forgotten realms settings to consider aligning with a faction... there are opportunities to join various factions throughout the adventure, if your character is deemed to hold that faction's values.

Faction invites are done on a one-to-one basis by certain NPCs and it's entirely possible to have a mixture of faction members within a single party.

Last edited by Zinrokh; 09-20-2017 at 09:51 AM.
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  #19  
Old 09-19-2017, 02:31 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Stonk View Post
Do you allow variant humans?
Yes

Quote:
Originally Posted by Stonk View Post
I would be most interested in playing a cleric but I would be flexible for party balance. Let me know if you have room for me and I will roll one up.
I will be considering party balance to an extent... but if for example there were too excellent applications for (insert class) I might contact those players and say "could this character work as a (insert different class) to aid party balance while allowing the most interesting characters to play.

Last edited by Zinrokh; 09-19-2017 at 08:27 AM.
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  #20  
Old 09-19-2017, 10:46 AM
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Ivor
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Name: Ivor
Race: Half-elf
Class: Rogue (Charlatan)

Appearance: Ivor is quite an unremarkable person, a fact that he often uses to his advantage. He is of medium height and medium build, with dark brown hair, which he wears long (and moderately unkempt) to disguise his Elven heritage. He has seemingly lived a hard life, as evident by his worn, wrinkled skin, that which is visible behind his coarse beard. The one feature he was never able to disguise are his piercing blue eyes, which seem to glimmer with a cunning intellect.

Back story: Some people were born to be adventurers; they could have a heart of gold, a burning desire to protect the weak and innocent, or a selfless need to confront the many injustices that can be found in the world. These people traveled the lands, always putting the needs of others ahead of their own, leaving fond memories in their wake. Ivor possessed none of these qualities and lived with only one goal, which was to survive, by any means necessary.

Born from the drunken union of an impoverished barmaid and a travelling Elven troubadour, who continued his travels the following morning, Ivor's upbringing had been far removed from a fairy tale. His Elven heritage, which had manifested itself in the form of light blue eyes, slightly pointed ears and a general androgynous appearance, quickly cast him as an outsider. He soon realised that the only person he could count on in life was himself, a somewhat selfish attribute that shaped his future career.

Ivor left his hometown as soon as he could, setting out to make a living by whatever means necessary. For a person with little formal education, his job prospects were somewhat limited to those of a more immoral nature. He quickly found he had a knack for gambling (especially when he stacked the odds in his favour. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he had turned to theft and burglary during especially tough times, but he tried to draw the line at physical violence, only resorting to it when absolutely necessary to keep him alive.

RP sample: A thick haze had settled over the table, a combination of smoke from the torches encircling the basement room and from the tobacco smoked by the people crowded around the table. They were a motley assortment of races, predominantly comprising of humans, half-orcs and the occasional dwarf. The table was littered with ash trays, drinks, cards and most importantly, money.

From the rough dress of the participants and the secretive nature of this game, it was immediately apparent that the ongoing gambling was not fully legal. The person currently shuffling was a fairly non-descript man, with dark unkempt hair and a coarse beard. He didn't look particularly intimidating, especially compared to some of the larger, rougher looking brutes he was sat near. He shuffled with a flourish and dealt the cards with some considerable dexterity, before glancing at his own hand and suppressing a grin.

After a few games, only Ivor and anther remained, with the larger pile of coins sat in front of Ivor. His half-orc opponent was sweating nervously, his facial expression poorly masking his weak hand. Ivor pressed the advantage, betting higher and higher, until the half-orc was all in. With a grin, Ivor slapped his winning hand on the table. "Well it's been fun, boys," he said with a smile on his face "but I think that's where I'll call it a night. I don't want to bleed you all dry." He started to scoop up his winnings but quickly found his wrist caught in a vice-like grip. "Not so fast" the half-orc snarled, reaching into the folds of Ivor's sleeve and pulling out an ace, which had often found its way into his winning hands.

"Well, would you look at that. I'm sure I can explain, it's just that -" he left the sentence hanging in the air as he slammed his elbow down onto the hand that held him, breaking away from the grasp as he jumped to his feet. Quickly grabbing as many of the more valuable coins as he could, he flipped the table and darted toward the exit, leaving behind a scene of chaos and confusion behind him. The guards moved to block his way and started to draw their weapons, but Ivor was quicker and barreled past them before they could stop him. He didn't look back once as he darted away into the nights, weaving down familiar alleyways as he made his escape, knowing that one day he would push his luck too far. But not today he thought, as he decided where he should move to next; this town was too dangerous now and he needed to take the first opportunity to leave.
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Ivor in Phandelver (Group M)

Last edited by Gazmania; 09-26-2017 at 04:15 AM.
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  #21  
Old 09-19-2017, 02:50 PM
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Kaneda Shepard Kaneda Shepard is offline
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Character is ready for review if you like to do that kind of thing haha.
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I have taken the Oath of Sangus
I do not strike with my hand; he who strikes with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I strike with my mind...I do not kill with my sword; he who kills with his sword has forgotten the face of his father. I kill with my heart.
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  #22  
Old 09-20-2017, 04:52 AM
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Character Application
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Quintus - Gauntlet Sorcerer


Character Name: Quintus
Race: Human
Class: Wild Magic Sorcerer
Alignment: Chaotic Good

Appearance: Aged 31, Quintus is a well traveled sorcerer with a body honed from constant movement never staying in one place for too long. Standing 6ft tall with an agile physique Quintus' body has been moulded by the unremitting wild magic coursing through his veins. His hair turned white long a go from a spell gone awry, he keeps it short for the practicalities of life on the road. When not casting a spell his eyes are a deep azure that seem to swirl if one spends too long staring into them. His bearing is one of supreme confidence in his abilities with a swagger to match, lording it up over those he deems to be lesser inconsequential beings.



Personality: Quintus is by no means a humble and modest magic wielder for he believes his bestowal of power is divine will, who wouldn't get a bit egotistical at that? His ego is the driving force behind every action and he has the spells to back it up motivated by an unquenchable hunger for fame and ever greater arcane power. This is tempered by his membership to the Order of the Gauntlet and the teachings of his Order brethren. He may be called many things, egotistical, rash, too ambitious, but overriding it all is Quintus' desire to make the world a better place. He would never admit it, but what keeps him awake at night is the fear of his gift abandoning him just as quickly as it manifested that fateful night so long ago.



Background

Origin: Not being born with the gift of magic, Quintus tilled the fields with his father just as dozens of other boys his age did in the forgotten, backwater village where they all grew up. Never satisfied, Quintus was always considered too inquisitive for his own good as his father would often tell him. He couldn't have known how true those words would turn out to be, as one night an unusual shooting star flew over the head of the stargazing boy and impacted nearby. Setting off immediately the young farmer's son sought out the object. All Quintus can recall from that evening then on is coming across the crater with a dimly pulsating orb in its centre. A flash, then nothing. The following day he awoke to find his farmstead destroyed as if by a great tornado of wind. Little did he know then that it was the manifestation of his new power. Hounded out of the village by God fearing villagers and his own father, Quintus was cast out into the wilds. In his formative years Quintus learned to wield this wild magic and bend it to his will seeking out learning and wisdom from those rare masters of the art and so his ability and confidence began to grow and grow.

Occupation: The wild magic is so ingrained within Quintus that his body is merely a conduit for magical power that's ever striving to be set free. Sorcerers can through constant mental practice learn to wield the magic by sheer force of will. Sorcerers are often feared and misunderstood, but those people in positions of power often employ them to further their own ends utilizing a sorcerer's unique talents. The Order of the Gauntlet affords Quintus the opportunity to both further his own abilities and rid the world of evil. It's a win-win. Although many in the Order believe a sorcerer such as he to be unsuited to a life of self sacrifice and betterment of others.



Sample In-Character Post

Upon seeing the desecration wrought to this ancient dwarf hall, Quintus watched as Ignatius crumbled to his knees in grief at the loss of his race's legacy. The rest of the group were too captivated by the weaving tendrils of negative energy emanating from the hole before the throne casting the one seated upon it in a grim purple glow. Following the tendril's path, Quintus' eyes fell upon the Vendara Stone. At last... he thought, the key to other worlds was within his grasp. The knowledge I could gleam from those denizens of the outer plains.... Quintus' pupils glowed intensely with desire for the stone and the possibilities it promised. The fact that the group had been enlisted to retrieve the stone for the Order was irrelevant now that he saw it for himself. Gazing into its smooth surface it seemed to call out to the sorcerer blocking out all other thoughts and sight until it was only he and the stone in this cavernous hall.

Quintus was snapped back to reality by the sensation of intense heat to his right, Durandal had unleashed a torrent of fire upon the charging orcs whom Quintus hadn't even noticed were coming. The grieving dwarf took up his shield and hammer once more and focused his grief into a burning rage only a dwarf could muster and the rugged mountain dweller Ignatius, barreled into the nearest orc, hammer tearing flesh and splitting bone. Yulé shouted something to Quintus as the feline ducked and weaved under oncoming strikes as if it were an elaborate dance. Before he could respond, Quintus was forcibly lifted off his feet and sent flying backwards by the shield smash of an oncoming orc warrior. Landing hard, he didn't miss a beat and got right back up to his feet summoning the powers within. It was time to act, the stone was his. Speaking the words of power, Quintus' eyes began to glow a brilliant white and he slammed his palm to the stone floor releasing a Thunder Wave baby!thunderous wave of force and sound that washed over orc and ally alike throwing debris and bodies in the air. As the dust settled and the echos quieted, the first wave of orcs was decimated. Their Firbolg musician lay prone, bleeding from a mortal would to the chest. It didn't matter. Quintus was focused on retrieving the Vendara Stone at all costs.

He called out to the female orc upon the throne. "The stone. Give it to me, now."



Notes
Application: This application formats best on PC/Mac.

I'd welcome feedback!

Post rate: 5/7.

About me: I'm 34, live in the UK, work full time and have a young family. I've been in love with the magic of role playing and story telling for years and what I love best of all is not knowing where a character driven story will lead.

Previous experience: Competent in 5e both as DM and player. Currently DMing a campaign here.

Why I applied: I've had this concept for a cocky, egotistical but ultimately good hearted sorcerer for some time and would love to play it out to see where it leads.


Last edited by SiroVai; 05-23-2018 at 04:15 PM.
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  #23  
Old 09-20-2017, 09:54 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Kaneda Shepard View Post
Character is ready for review if you like to do that kind of thing haha.
I don't intend to give feedback unless a player asks for it on a specific area or if something glaring stands out.
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  #24  
Old 09-20-2017, 05:43 PM
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Application
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Name: Granarc HealHand
Race: Human Variant
Class: Life Cleric
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Physical Description: Granarc is a young man with short blond hair and dull blue eyes. His features are very forgettable with a round chin and patchy blond beard. He is tall and athletically built due to years of training with heavy armor. Although is only 19 he looks battle worn but eager to spread the glory of Lathander.
Background: Folk Hero

 


 


Last edited by Stonk; 09-20-2017 at 05:44 PM. Reason: trying to put an image in.
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  #25  
Old 09-21-2017, 09:05 AM
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A lot of great apps.

When all those who have expressed interest have completed their applications I'll close the application window and make a final decision on the party members.

Till than I'll continue to consider any new applicants who submit their applications.


Will be leaving the window open till the deadline.

Last edited by Zinrokh; 09-27-2017 at 09:00 AM.
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  #26  
Old 09-23-2017, 08:43 AM
Gazmania Gazmania is offline
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I'm all finished now, apologies for the delay, it's been a busier week than I imagined.

Everyone's characters look great!
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  #27  
Old 09-23-2017, 11:13 AM
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The pressure, man! So many good apps. So many o_o
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  #28  
Old 09-23-2017, 09:06 PM
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Name: Garen Goodleaf
Race: Lightfoot Halfling
Class: Bard
Background: Criminal

Back story:
Garen's family had grown tobacco outside of Triboar for generations. He worked his first harvest when he was eight years old, standing beside his two older brothers. But Garen had no love for working the fields; he would come to enjoy smoking his family's crop, but not planting, tending, and harvesting it. Instad of watering the crop, or killing vermin, as often as not Garen would be wandering the countryside, exploring the hills and valleys. By his mid-teens, he was spending as much time away from the farm as on it...and more and more time in the town. It was there that he found The Grinning Goblin, and first discovered his love for music. After a while he became a fixture, sitting near the stage, tapping along to the sounds of whatever was bing played on stage. One day, one of his favorite performers gifted him a flute, and taught him to play. Before too long, he was a fixture on the stage, playing his flute and telling stories, and often joining in with whatever troupe was visiting town.

After a few months, Garen was asked to join a traveling band during one of its journeys through Triboar. It was an exciting life for him, up and down the Sword Coast from Luskan to Baldur's Gate. It was not until a few months later that Garen discovered that music was not the only business that his troupe was involved in. They were smuggling goods: spices from across the Sea, jewels from the Far East, stolen goods that needed to be secreted out of town. Whatever needed to be moved from one city to another, they would ship for a price; entertainers were always welcome in whatever town they visited, and with everyone expecting performers to favor the less savory districts, no one gave them a second glance. Once he discovered the truth about the business, Garen found it exhilirating. His life seemed to have everything he could want. Traveling to far off and wonderful places, playing his music, earning more money than he ever could have dreamed from farming tobacco: all of it made the fact that he was breaking the law seem somehow insignificant - besides, it was just a bit of smuggling...no one was getting hurt...

Not until one early morning in Daggerford. A few weeks earlier, two new members had joined the troupe; they were not musicians, but traveled with the group as "guards". Ever since that day, the mood of the group had changed. There was less laughter around the fire, and there was suddenly much more secrecy about their 'jobs'. It all came to a head as they were settling down in their rooms after an evening's show. Garen was never sure exactly what happened: there was a knock at the door, three of the town guards, an argument - and before he knew it, the guards - and two of his bandmates - lay dead on the floor.

Garen grabbed his flute and his pack, leapt out of the back window, and ran...and didn't stop until a week later when he arrived in Neverwinter.

RP sample:

"Look, I just need to get out of town. I'm good for it...you know that..."

"It's not a question of whether or not you're 'good for it', but I run a cash business, and you know that. And what happens if I start giving my services away? I'd lose respect; that's what happens. And what is a man, if he doesn't have respect?"

Garen stands awkwardly in the waterfront shack that serves as the 'main office' for Dessarin Shipping, nervously twirling his signet ring as he looks up at Arno Mikkeson, sitting behind his desk. It wouldn't be quite accurate to call Arno a 'friend' - but he was hoping that '(semi) trusted business associate' might not be too much of a stretch.

It had taken Garen six days to make it this far. He had stayed off the road, safe in the brambles and thickets, but close enough to watch the patrols headed north toward Waterdeep. He was fairly certain he saw those same patrols returning south yesterday, so he was probably in the clear...but it couldn't hurt to be too careful. And that's where Arno came in; as the owner of one of the largest shipping companies on the Sword Coast, he could certainly arrange to smuggle Garen away, to someplace where the murder of a couple small-town bouncers wouldn't even rise to the level of barroom conversation.

There was only one problem; Arno insisted on being paid for his services, and in his haste to escape town Garen had left almost all of his cash - and nearly everything else he owned - behind. He had only managed to make it this far by raiding farmers' fields and orchards; he had almost nothing left but the clothes on his back. And nearly a week of sleeping on the ground had pretty much done it for those; his traveling clothes had been packed away, as he had meant to stay in Daggerford for several more days. If he couldn't find something to offer Arno, he was going to find himself out in the gutter.

"If you can just get me to Neverwinter, I have friends there...they'll make good for me, I swear it. Please,...I've never let you down before, have I?"

Arno looks down at Garen from his seat, absentmindedly stroking his beard. "As it happens, I do have a shipment headed up the High Road...and there might just be enough room for one as tiny as you happen to be. But if I do you this favor...you're gonna owe me. And you know what happens to folks that don't pay what they owe, don't you?"

Garen swallows hard, trying to hide the mix of relief and fear that he was now feeling. Yes, he had 'friends' in Neverwinter, and no doubt he could talk them out of a change of clothes and a bed for a few nights - long enough for him to hit the taverns and earn himself enough some coin - but getting them to pay off Arno was another story altogether.

But that was not a problem for today; he would deal with it when the time came. He smiles, and nods his head.
"Thank you, Arno. You won't regret it, I promise you."

"I know I won't. Because you'll be providing me collateral. That's a nice ring you have there...who don't you let me have it? I think I'll just keep it safe for you during your journey."
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Last edited by Eleven Sided Die; 09-30-2017 at 12:14 AM.
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  #29  
Old 09-24-2017, 04:28 PM
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Application!

Name: "Shiver" LeVerve
Race: Tiefling
Class: Bard
Image:

Back Story and RP:
 

Last edited by DialPforPickles; 09-24-2017 at 04:40 PM. Reason: changing pic, editing back story
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Old 09-24-2017, 09:41 PM
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Going to throw my application in the ring. Been trying to play this character for a while. Havn't done anything with the lost mines campaign so it will all be new to me. Have been playing DnD for many years, always excited to play something new.

Name: Haikune
Race: Human (feat variant)
Class: Barbarian (mechanically, the theme/flavor of the character is not typical barbarian)
Image:
 

Back story:
Deep in the Misty Forest lies a single building with a fading owl statue on the roof. To the few who have seen it and those who dwell within, it is known as the owl monastery. However the location is hard to find and frankly not worth finding. Extremely focused and introspective the roughly 20 citizens live lives devoted to enlightenment and have developed a strange manner of speech after having been isolated for so long.
Haikune is one of the few spirits to be born in the Monastery with a desire to leave. Having trained his mind and body for enlightenment under the strict structure of the community since birth it has dawned on him that perhaps new experiences are necessary to reach the final state. While few have left the isolation of the monastery none have returned, either killed or unable to find their way back. Despite this Haikune set out determined to expand his experiences in search of himself.

Days later
The orc appeared from nowhere as Haikune emerged from the bushes into a small grassy clearing. They had both been stalking a buck when it was startled and bolted. With the prey lost it was a strange coincidence they both emerged 20 feet apart and previously unaware of each other.
Haikune reacted in an instant, exhale, his mind clears and his body tenses prepared for battle. Inhale, he bolts forward, simultaneously drawing his large curved blade. Exhale, the sword flashes towards the orc, Haikune's stride does not slow. Inhale, from 20 feet on the other side of the orc Haikune looks back to see the creature slump to the ground. Exhale, the sounds of the forest return as he relinquishes his focus.

Days later
Having emerged from the forest and followed a ridge through the grasslands Haikune discovers a road larger than he had ever seen. On a whim he chooses to turn left and follows the road until he reaches a town called Phandalin. As he enters the town the gusting winds are joined by rain and Haikune begins his first conversation outside the monastery.
"Rain is upon us. Where can warm shelter be found. Also require food."
The man to whom he speaks cocks an eyebrow at him before pointing across the street. "Try the tavern, over there."

RP sample:
The breeze moves calmly through the clearing, rustling the leaves and branches all around. Haikune stands still, the blood of the goblins dripping from his blade. His eyes are closed his breathing slow and calm. It had taken 10 breaths for him to stop the goblins breath forever. They had hoped to ambush him but they had underestimated his speed and skill.
With an inhale his eyes open and he begins to move. Wiping down his blade and then checking the bodies his motions are still smooth but nothing like the focus and precision he showed in battle. Without a word he walks out of the clearing, leaving only the breeze behind.
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Last edited by RadarD; 09-26-2017 at 04:43 PM. Reason: updating image
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