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Old 06-09-2019, 04:10 PM
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Out of the Abyss

Game NameOut of the Abyss
Game SystemDnD 5e
ThemeUnderdark
FlavourSurvival Horror
Plot Summary
Out of the Abyss

Captured!
You awake slowly. Your vision is blurry at the edges. The hard iron manacles and collar have chafed your wrists and neck raw. The last few days are a blur. After your capture, the drow slavedriver forced you to march through a tunnel and threw you into a holding pen. Nobody has told you why you're here, but the other prisoners are pretty sure you'll be sold into slavery. Between the constant darkness and lingering effects of the paralyzing poison, you have no idea how long you've been here. There is no indication of the passage of time here in a dank, dark prison cell.

Your possessions were stripped upon arrival and thrown into a pile in a processing room near here. All you have is your under clothing and any random debris that was in your food. There is a consensus among you and your fellow prisoners that you must attempt to escape.




The Game
Application Deadline: June 15, 2019
Party Size: 6
Posting Rate: Goal of 3/week, 2/week is acceptable
Sources: PHB, SCAG, VGtM, XGtE, and/or MToF
Starting Leve: 1
Ability Scores: 4d6, drop lowest. These will be rolled in a game thread. Please don't roll in this thread.



Application
Name
Race - Note: don't limit yourself to races with darkvision. I will make sure all characters have a chance to avoid burdening the others with beacons of light.
Class - Note for Wizards: your spellbook is missing in the beginning. All spellcasters: your prepared spells from before capture are still prepared. They don't have to be relevant to your backstory. Feel free to prepare the most useful spells for the start of the story. Your components and/or casting focus will also be gone. Try to rely on Verbal and Somatic at the beginning until you can recover your gear.
Alignment - Note: I'm not opposed to Chaotic or Evil. Just don't act like a villain. Group play is most important here.
Religion
Appearance
Personality
Backstory Highlights
RP Example: How did you get captured by the drow and imprisoned in the Underdark? Or feel free to write something a little more freeform if you prefer.



Expectations
If you have played Out of the Abyss previously, I am okay with that. Please just try not to let your personal knowledge influence the game too much.

Posting should conform to sitewide rules and be respectful of other players.

Expectations for the DM
My posting will come after all players have posted or after 48 hours. I'll have an opportunity at home in the evening and during my lunch break at work. Detailed posts will probably be from home at night, which for me is GMT -7/Mountain Daylight Time in North America.

Last edited by p02flapjack; 06-09-2019 at 04:11 PM.
  #2  
Old 06-09-2019, 05:55 PM
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This character is a 27-point by character. If accepted I'll adjust the scores to the 4d6 method.

Name Garwick Greenhill
Race Halfling
Class Paladin
Image


Story
Garwick's father is the richest halfling in the realm. The neighbor's generally say that he's gotten too big for his britches, often overstepping his bounds and trying to impose his will upon others. The Greenhills often rub their independent thinking countrymen the wrong way.

They are pious worshipers of Arvoreen, the halfling "Defender" god. They have a recently commissioned family crest featuring the unblinking eye of Arvoreen watching over the rolling hills of the countryside.

They sent their son off to live among the nobility of humans and elves, learning the finer ways of those aristocratic societies. He indeed learned to be more refined in his behavior. He also learned to fight quite well. And his devotion to Arvoreen became incredibly deep.

Garwick takes great pains for always look his best and follow the latest fashions. (Though not necessarily fashions that his earth-tilling halfling cousins would appreciate.)

Garwick believes he has a sacred duty to protect his homeland.

Nothing is more important than his family's honor.

Garwick is well-meaning, but self-centered. He believes he has a special mission from the Defender God himself.
He knows his path is righteous, otherwise Arvoreen would not have set him upon it.

stat block
Garwick Greenhill| Paladin | level 1

hp: 12| ac: 17 - Studded Leather and Shield | speed: 25'

stats: str 8 (-1), dex 17 (+3), con 15 (+2), int 12 (+1), wis 10(+0), cha 13 (+1)

languages: common, elven, halflimg

currently wielding: Rapier 1d8+3

Lay on hands 5 HP per day

Divine Sense (Detect evil)


Ambush!It had been quite some time since Garwick visited home.

He had taken up residency in the court of Duke Harlow Albright. Albright was a human noble with whom Garwick's father often did business. Garwick was to learn the ways of human nobility while there. He also trained in fencing with Albright's captain of the guards. Garwick was diligent in his nightly prayers, and read voraciously about the dictates of Arvoreen.

One day, the Duke's servant mage came to Garwick. He had received a message, transmitted by arcane means from a sorceror in the halfling realm. Some sort of emergency had occurred, though the message was not specific. Garwick's father requested his immediate return.

The duke provided a carriage, and a mounted soldier for escort. The soldier, Garwick, and the dwarven carriage driver left first thing in the morning.

The rode all day, and as darkness fell, they had reached the edge of the Greenhill estate. There were wooded hills here, in which Garwick played as a child. But this part of the estate was neglected these days. No one lived nearby. The woods had
become overgrown. A tree had fallen across the road.

"We should try to clear this and make it to the manor tonight. There's no danger of ambush in these hill. I'd rather not camp here when we are so close to home.", Garwick commanded.

Garwick directed the soldier and driver in an effort to pull the fallen tree by rope, using the carriage horse, and the soldier's mount. After an hour's work, they had moved the logs enough for the wagon to pass.

But as they caught their breath and prepared to continue the journey they heard a bone chilling howl in the darkness. They turned to look. With no further warning, the driver was struck in the head by a large rock, hurled by some creature concealed in the foliage. The dwarf fell to the ground unconscious.

The travelers found themselves surrounded. Four humanoids with long, shaggy, white hair covering their entire bodies. They wore no clothing and carried no weapons. The soldier shouted "Quaggoths!, Drow servants from beneath the earth."

Garwick knealt beside the injured driver. He layed his hands upon the wound. "Arvoreen, Defender of these hills, I call upon your grace to heal this man, in service to your noble cause."

Then he stood and drew his rapier. He dodged the claw attack from one of the white haired invaders, and slipped behind it. He turned and slashed the next one across its chest. Blood spurted forth, and the raider screamed in pain.

"Soldier, stay with me. We can defeat these beasts, with the will of Arvoreen."" But it was too late. In the moonlight, Garwick could see that the soldier had climbed upon his mount, and was now racing away.

Garwick Greenhill's heart sank. Surely he could not win this fight alone. The moonlight disappeared, as one of the underdark raiders put a cloth sack over Garwick's head. He was now a prisoner, at the mercy of creatures from the underworld.

Why had Arvoreen allowed this to happen? This must be part of his plan. The Defender has a special task for me. I will not fail him.

Last edited by Stadiumite; 06-10-2019 at 07:12 AM.
  #3  
Old 06-09-2019, 08:03 PM
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Name: Liriel DeVir
Race: - Drow
Class: - Cleric (Life Domain)
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Religion: Eilistraee
Appearance: 5'3 tall, slender body, mauve eyes, long white hair in ponytail, Obsidian skin.
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Personality: Friendly to others, can be seen as a ditz at times, but she has strong convictions, has proven she can be counted on.
Backstory Highlights: Growing up, there been turmoil about her people. Most had been following Loth, but not some are breaking away, some had starting to follow Vhaeraun, though most were the males. Now, others are starting to follow Eilistraee, and her family was broken up because of it. Her father and his sister had taken Liriel's brother and Liriel to join the others to follow Eilistraee, leaving her mother and sister show stayed to follow Loth and another brother had left with their uncle to follow Vhaeraun. Trying times indeed. She was the youngest of her siblings and it was hard for her. As she gotten older, she grew accustomed to her new life and became a devoted follower.

How did you get captured by the drow and imprisoned in the Underdark?: She and two of her companions had come across a few surface elves and a half-elf and made peace with them. It wasn't easy, for surface elves and drow were long time enemies. A Heavy downpour came and they spot a cave ran to it for cover. They decided to spend the night there and in the morning, they will all go on their way. They never saw daylight again. During the night, a raid by the drow, followers of Loth came upon them. There was chaos all around and one drow was about to strike her down, but he paused, looking at her amulet, he yelled traitor, then she felt a hard blow at the back of her head. When she woke up, she found herself a slave. She doesn't know long she been a prisoner and lost track of time. What she remembers, is the abuse, torture and rape from her captors and being called a dirty traitor. Now she heard others were making plans of escape and at first, she was not included, but after seeing what Liriel had been going through, they began to include her as well.

Last edited by WildJessi; 06-09-2019 at 09:26 PM.
  #4  
Old 06-09-2019, 11:42 PM
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The Winterslayer himself
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Name - Valmuk 'Winterslayer' Nalakolake

Race - Goliath

Class - Barbarian

Alignment - Chaotic Neutral

Religion - Partially follows Tempus

Appearance - Valmuk stands at 8 feet tall with pale white skin. He has pink markings on his body, which was tattoo'd to him when he aged into adulthood. He has shoulder length, pitch black hair, which is rare for a Goliath. His eyes are a bright blue color. His head is usually covered up with an antlered helmet, which has sort of become a signature look for the Winterslayer. Valmuk looks young for his age, mostly in his face, which is a bit of a surprise with some people

Personality - Valmuk is what is considered the tall and silent type; keeping to himself when possible, especially as he has spent most of his adulthood away from society. He seems to show more emotion and vocalization when he is forced into an encounter, in which he is usually blunt. In combat, he goes from his tall, dark, and gruesome self into a war machine, suddenly becoming louder and more sporadic with his movements. He is loyal to people he truly trusts, shown by his devotion to his master.

Backstory Highlights
Valmuk was born in a tribe of deadly warriors, Goliath's that hunted any that entered their territory. He didn't understand why but like most youths, never questioned it and tried to join in the tribes tradition. They seemed to be very territorial to anyone or any beast not part of the clan. When he reached adulthood, he did something unthinkable... he left the clan to journey on his own; and he never looked back. The goliath eventually found another mountain range, one that he had thought was unclaimed but he turned out to be wrong. A young elf girl had already set up shop with a cabin. Knowing nothing else, he attempted to slay the girl and claim the cabin for himself but he was easily taken down by the Elf, who's speed outmatched the goliath. Over the next few days, the Goliath would approach with a new plan of attack, just for the Elf to someone be able to get the Goliath onto his back. At a point, she started leaving things for him afterward; meals, clothes, supplies, and while he was angered that someone smaller was able to take him down, he would take the offerings without a word.

As time went on, he learned her name, he learned about her life, and it went from a competition to a sort of master student rivalry. As the two would encounter each other on every other day, Valmuk would slowly learn more about fighting techniques, mostly with hand to hand and grappling. This occurred due to after each time Valmuk was taken down, they would have a little time to chat with each other. Repeatedly felled like some great oak he had little choice. Though he wasn't upset about that. He started to enjoy learning more about her.

One night, Valmuk showed up, in a blizzard, and awaited for the elf outside her cabin. The goliath stood for a long time before he sensed something was wrong. He, for the first time, entered her home. Inside, the elf laid in bed, barely clinging to life. The Goliath never knew that the Elf was out here due to a disease she was dying from, and didn't want her people to see her die. Valmuk sat next to her bed and kept her company until her passing, her fire of life being put out after a kiss on her forehead.

Valmuk soon gained the name of Winterslayer as the Goliath spent his days standing guard of the cabin, fighting every monster, every group of wandering bandits, every evil undead that dared approach, wanting to protect the home of the only person he became loyal to, even though they had passed on.





RP ExampleSeems that slaying every monster you encountered would eventually come back to bite you in the arse. The Drow had noticed some of their summoned scouts had a cut connection to their summoners, causing the Drow to investigate. Through the night, the Drow traveled up the mountain to find the snow covered Goliath, who put up quite the fight but the Drow seemed much more skilled than the tall man. When Valmuk woke back up, he was in a dungeon, with his hands chained together. He can't stay here... something could be approaching the cabin... what would she think if she saw him now...

Last edited by Krow Nest; 06-10-2019 at 12:05 AM.
  #5  
Old 06-10-2019, 12:53 AM
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Application
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Name: Gwarc
Race: Kobold
Class: Monk
Alignment: Neutral

Religion: Gwarc thinks of himself as a (not terribly devout) follower of Kurtulmak, but doesn't worship openly.

Appearance: Reasonably tall and well-formed for a kobold, Gwarc almost always stoops, curling into himself to seem even smaller and meeker. Similarly, his bright red eyes gleam with a deep cunning, but are almost always downcast, refusing to meet the gaze of his 'betters'. His hide is a sort of muddy brown color that may be his natural shade, or may just be dirt.

Personality: Gwarc is obsequious to the point of self-parody. He grovels and whimpers and cowers with the best of them... whenever anyone is watching. He has almost divided himself into two separate people in his mind. There is the simpering, servile fool that he shows the world, and behind that mask there is another person, far more cold and calculating who is growing increasingly disgusted with his own ruse.

Background: Traded around the Underdark as part of a slowly diminishing tribe of kobolds, Gwarc has been a slave as long as he can remember. Early attempts at displaying intelligence, personality or willpower were soon beaten out of him. He probably never would have survived his early identification as a troublemaker if that Duergar fellow hadn't lost the tribe to someon else in a card game. Gifted with a second chance, Gwarc quickly mastered the art of never showing anyone what was going on inside, masters and fellow slaves alike. Bereft of all possessions and any sense of continuity, Gwarc has learned to only rely on himself, mastering his body as the only tool he knows he will always have with him.

RP Sample: Gwarc is good slave, yes! Gwarc please master, yes? Gwarc work hard, no whip! No whip! Gwarc is... sick and tired of this nonsense. Honestly, do they really believe that I don't know the word "I"? But that's how they all expect me to speak, so I give them what they want. You can't ever let on, you see? It's not that one kobold is much of a threat to any of these people. But you can't have a smart slave, a willful slave mixed in with the rest, might spoil the whole batch. Safer and cheaper to just to kill it, cut out the bad spot. That's the infuriating part, isn't it? Together, we might all have a chance at freedom. But try and convince any of these miserable sons of gnomes of that? Ha! They'll just sell you out to the masters for an extra bowl of slop at mealtime. So you sell them out first. That's economics.

It's been a few days since I saw the last of my tribe now. I'm not sure exactly how many were left, I barely even bothered to learn most of their names. We'd been working in a mine for a while, no idea who owned us, but the hobgoblin with the whip was pretty convincing when he asked us to start digging. Anyways, like I said, mining. The signal went out for us to come on up. Well, `up` I say. It's a pretty nebulous concept down here, but out of the active portion of the mine at least. I had been really deep working on a vein of mithril, so I was one of the last ones out. I got to the main camp just in time to see most of my remaining `family` being marched away in chains. A slaver raid, or just a business transaction? Hard to tell from my point of view, and really it doesn't matter much anyways, does it?

I cowered by best cower and felt the iron being clamped around my wrists and neck. Risking a glance upwards, I caught sight of my new owner. White hair, ebon skin. Ugh. Drow again. Hadn't they just owned me two masters ago? Or had it been three?

"Yes, mistress. Gwarc good slave. Good..."
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Characters: VerdigrisGwarcMincemeatDel CorganTarrenIris KetteringLucas

Last edited by hafrogman; 06-10-2019 at 12:54 AM.
  #6  
Old 06-10-2019, 10:10 AM
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Application
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Name: Cesheria

Race: Human

Class: Warlock, Hexblade

Gender: Female

Alignment: NG

Religion: To her Patron, the Raven Queen, though not devout by any means

Physical Description: Cesh is a bit hard to pin down on looks alone. At first glance some may think she's of the Shou ethnic group, but her larger build and height, combined with her dusky to olive skin tone suggests Tethyrian ethnicity. She has a warrior's athletic build at six foot tall, combined with a beautiful face, deep honey colored eyes, straight black long hair and a disarming smile. It is rather easy for most to take up with her if they like what she's saying.
When about her business she wears decorative, but quite functional medium half plate armor, polished and adorned in purple. The look is topped off with an elaborate helm, and a deadly looking Halberd.

 


 

 
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Posting Status: Slow to Stop!! Working Security for 12-15 hours at event center close by for extra money this afternoon and tonight. Will catch up on posting tomorrow, Sunday 10/19 CST

Last edited by Drachenspirit; 06-12-2019 at 02:33 PM. Reason: tweaking a bit
  #7  
Old 06-10-2019, 10:30 AM
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Dani
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Danelli Daggerdash
Race: Wood-Elf
Class: Rogue
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Background: Outlander

Trait: I’m driven by a wanderlust that led me away from home, though still nothing can shake my optimistic attitude.
Trait: There's no room for caution in a life lived to the fullest.
Ideal: Life is about fun, adventure and excitement.
Bond: The people I adventure with are my friends and friends are worth fighting for.
Flaw: I am overconfident in my abilities. The best way to get me to do something is to tell me I can't

Appearance: Just over 4 feet tall with a youthful gate and expression Dani could almost be mistaken as a child. She wears supple leather armor in a myriad of muted colors. Always prepared she carries the gear needed for nearly any adventure.

Personality:
Cheerful and energetic, Dani is an optimist and romantic. She views life as one great adventure and is happiest when there's action to be had. She rarely sits still tending to pace and fidget when bored. Although fearless and impulsive she can usually keep a level head to get a job done.
  #8  
Old 06-10-2019, 11:17 AM
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Character Concept
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Name: Villem Daniand
Race: Variant Human
Class: Fighter
Alignment: Neutral
Religion: He sees himself as an opportunist and will pray to any god provided it sounds favorable to him. Not particularly religious otherwise.

Appearance:
Villem is a squat, ruddy skinned human man with a bald head and small piercing gray eyes. He is somewhat handsome but his crooked nose and small scars around his eyebrows give him a rough appearance. He has thin wide lips and a square jaw, and despite his best efforts he can never grow more than a thin scruffy beard. Villem is broad shouldered and heavy thewed, with a large but firm torso and large hands. Despite his size, his movements appear surprisingly fluid and quick and he holds himself with a proud posture. When he speaks his voice is deep but rather warm, and his words almost have a touch of humor to them as if he is amused at his lot in life.

Personality:
An opportunist by nature, Villem is the type of man who has always been desperate to prove himself but has never had the chance. The cushion of civilization and a comfortable upbringing led to a man unfulfilled, and Villem often overcompensates for what he feels are shortcomings for not yet having proved himself worthy of manhood. He is rather easy going and affable for the most part, and though slow to anger when it materializes he becames explosive and aggressive. He favors a good time and a good fight, and will gladly take either provided there’s drinks involved somehow. He has a weakness for stocky women, and is infatuated with dwarven maidens although his charms has not secured one yet. Villem doesn’t feel too strongly about life in general - if it seems like a good idea and it’s popular he will support it. He doesn’t go against the grain too much and is a far better follower than a leader as he doesn’t want the responsibility. He fantasizes about being a great and wealthy hero, but questions if he has the mettle sometimes.

 


RP Example:
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Last edited by Grouchy; 06-12-2019 at 06:47 AM.
  #9  
Old 06-10-2019, 11:46 AM
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Placeholder while I develop a Concept.

Deacon
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Name: Deacon

Race: Tiefling

Class: Fighter

Alignment: Neutral Good

Religion: Mystra, Goddess of Magic

Appearance: Deacon is a slightly shorter than most of his kind, but with a wide shoulders and a stout bearing that gifts him a certain presence. His horns are broad and curved around his head, with his skin tone colored like fine ash from a once hot fire. His movements are measured and invested with a sense of economy. He is watchful, his silver eyes judicious and in expectation of trouble.

Personality: Deacon is stoic, but a formidable warrior if necessary. He is practical, but cautious having experienced things that he would just as soon not talk about. In his more recent years he has learned temperance, and something approaching a hard-won peace.

Backstory Highlights: As a Tiefling, Deacon was no stranger to scorn or suspicion during his early years. A pronounced and hot rage was his constant, if not always welcome, companion. He learned methods of force and to wield arms more out of necessity than earnest desire, and traveled for a while as a sellsword. Once while traveling through a small hamlet, a local band of peasants nearly killed him due to a failed harvest, out of drunken anger or for simply something to do. Fleeing for his life, his weapons stained with the blood of his pursuers and mingling with his own; he chanced upon an isolated monastery. Sick, wounded and exhausted the priests took him in and there, slowly, he healed- both in body and spirit. Deacon learned how to control his anger, the beginnings of magical instruction, and further martial prowess. For years afterwards he served as an envoy of Mystra, out of obligation and later, something closer to reverence.

RP Example: Lightning flashed on the darkened mountain road and a half moment later the thunder followed. The center of the storm was close, but that was the least of their worries.

The flickering light illuminated the mud-slicked pass before them and the last fateful stands of what remained of Deacon's fellows. Favril lie dead on the road, and Lucesse was not far behind him judging by the maroon stains in the water and his shuddering breath. They were a week out of Waterdeep, a caravan laden with silver, parchment, wood and foodstuffs for a newly christened temple. The Wagon Captain had chanced a shortcut through the Mountain passed. He had chanced wrong.

The sword felt heavier in Deacon's hands than it had a moment ago, and the two Drow lying on the road were a testament to that. Finishing with the last of his companions, the rest of them turned their focus to him. The rain squeaked between Deacon's knuckles on the hilt as he poised himself to strike. He tensed, praying his actions here and now would be enough.


It would not.


https://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=75589

Last edited by Perdition; 06-14-2019 at 12:43 AM.
  #10  
Old 06-10-2019, 03:03 PM
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Fletch
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Flaaresc "Fletch"
Race: High-Elf
Class: Rogue
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Background: Faction Agent

Trait: I try to build bridges between the Harpers and other factions, instead of walls.
Trait: Nothing can shake my optimistic attitude.
Ideal: Change. We must try to bring about the changes that people need in the world.
Bond: Everything I do is for the common people.
Flaw: I put too much trust in those who wield power within my faction’s hierarchy.

Religion: Fletch is more of a Christmas and Easter kind of worshiper. He’ll quickly have a prayer on his lips if he’s in trouble, but he forgets to pay regular obedience. The only god that regularly comes to mind for him is Sehanine Moonbow, who gets a brief few words any time he watches the moonrise.

Appearance: Fletch is slender and lithe, long of limb and face. He is rakish and usually has a smile to meet his obstacles. His white hair and pale blue eyes are in sharp contrast against walnut skin. He looks charming and when he speaks he seldom breaks the expectation.

Personality: Optimism is the name of the game with Fletch. He believes in himself and he believes in his work. He may have over estimated just how much he could accomplish alone when venturing into that cave, but surely he’ll find a way out soon. He tries to build bonds with others, even those that are likely adversaries.

Backstory Highlights: Fletch was raised by a pair of adventurers, they took a few decades off to let him grow old enough to travel with them, then they’d bring him from town to town, adventure to adventure, safe house to safe house. One day, they just didn’t return from a delve and it turned to the Harpers to raise him. He continued in their traditions, one a mage, the other a rogue, and has blended the art as best he’s able. He holds onto an amulet, part of a matched triad, in the hopes of some day seeing them again.

He’s had a bad habit of taking jobs that involve delving underground, hoping that would lead him to find some sign of their fate. He’s had no luck yet. And this time around he had plain bad luck.

RP Sample: Fletch stared down into the dark pool of shadows in the mouth of the sinkhole. He glanced down at the note from the Harper agent that had found him in the wood elf tavern. “Well,” he said looking at the note, “Two murders within five miles of this hole… One with drow poison. Someone needs to check it out.” He carefully tied a rope around the bole of a nearby tree. He looped it through a hitch around his waist and began slowly lowering himself down into the dark. A dark hooded figure emerged from cover when he was within and crept towards the straining rope.

Fletch was maybe thirty feet above the cave floor when the support of the rope disappeared. He hit the stone with a meaty impact, doing everything he’d been trained to do to lessen the impact. He was still stunned and completely helpless when the poisoned needle found his neck. He’d been captured!

He awakened slowly. his vision is blurry at the edges. The hard iron manacles and collar had chafed his wrists and neck raw. The last few days were a blur.

Player: I am new to PbP. This would be my first game on these forums (still waiting in the queue for a solo game). I’ve got a lot of DnD and DnD adjacent games under my belt, though, and plenty of time on my hands at a desk job. I can consistently post M-F 9-5 and inconsistently post on other times and days. About half my weekends are spent out in the woods hitting nerds with sticks while pretending to fight monsters, or be a monster (LARP).

Last edited by calledThird; 06-12-2019 at 12:59 PM. Reason: Still learning formatting tricks
  #11  
Old 06-10-2019, 07:11 PM
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Lady HelaynaName: Helayna Kistris
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Race: Fallen Aasimar

Class: Sorcerer (Divine Soul)

Alignment: Lawful Evil

Appearance: Helayna appears to be a tall, slender, female human. She has fiery red hair, piercing gold eyes, and soft golden skin that distinguishes her from ordinary humans.

Personality: She is self-righteous, prideful, and zealous. She is also loyal to those who are loyal to her, believing that surrounding herself with people she can trust empowers her. Abusing her trust is a death sentence. She strongly believes that she knows what is best, and that the end justifies the means. Celestial purity is her ultimate goal, and human avarice is her sworn enemy.

Backstory Highlights: She was born of an immaculate conception. News of this spread throughout her birthplace, and she came to be regarded as a prophet by many locals, which was further reinforced by the fact that she received visions from her celestial guardian. By the time she reached adulthood, she had gained a loyal following, and convinced the locals that those in power are corrupted by avarice and must not be allowed to rule. She began to kill people who she deemed corrupt or an obstacle to cleansing the world of this corruption. The local sovereign received word of this and sent forces to capture her, but she went willingly so as not to put her followers in danger. She was sentenced to death for heresy and treason, but before her execution, she managed to escape with the aid of her followers.

RP Sample: Helayna and her followers had just escaped the city of her imprisonment on horseback. Once she felt they were far enough away from the city walls, she decided it was time for a rest break. As they sat by the fire in silence, Helayna was the first to speak up. "I knew you would come for me" she said with pride, looking at each of her followers. "I had a vision. I saw myself retrieving a book containing powerful magic that would allow me to protect us from our sworn enemies. Your loyalty will be rewarded, but first, I must retrieve this book if we are to build a better world together. I hope you will not think I am fleeing out of fear or abandoning you."

Ansell, her most loyal follower, spoke up, "M'lady, your destiny stretches far beyond the confines of our small town. Whatever amount of time we spend in your presence is considered a blessing." The rest of her followers nodded their heads in agreement, which elicited a smile from her.

Helayna stood up and walked over to her horse, "Then this is farewell. I have already put you all in danger by allowing you to rescue me. Go home to your families, and inspire them to share our vision of a better future. She mounted her horse, "I shall return, and when I do, nothing will stand in our way." With that, her followers bowed their heads and she took off.

As she was riding, she realized that she had no reason to think that she was going the right way. All she knew is what she had seen in her vision, and the impulse she felt. It was as if her celestial guardian was guiding her to where she needed to be. Until she was captured.

Everything happened so fast. Helayna's trancelike state made her feel like she had woken up from a dream to find that she had never actually escaped her prison cell. It was all a just a hazy dream. As she began to collect her thoughts, her memories resurfaced and her predicament became more evident. She had escaped her death sentence, only to be sentenced to a fate far worse than death.

Notes: Unbeknownst to Helayna, she stopped receiving visions from her celestial guardian because she fell from grace when she began to murder any who opposed her divine destiny. She began receiving visions from Shar, who is leading Helayna to the underdark for some nefarious purpose with the promise of power in return. I plan to have her take levels in hexblade warlock. How the pact goes down can be left at your discretion or we can collaborate. Her story can be tweaked to fit the adventure as you see fit, so long as the high concept remain in tact. I am excited to have the opportunity of possibly playing a lawful evil character, and I have no intention of abusing this opportunity by playing her as a lawful stupid muder-hobo.
  #12  
Old 06-10-2019, 07:46 PM
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SalmonMax SalmonMax is offline
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Name: Arafel Amandine
Race - High Elf
Class - Wizard (intent for bladesinger)
Background - Noble
Alignment - Neutral Good
Religion - The Seldarine
Appearance - Arafel is slim and unassuming of stature, with intense aquamarine eyes, fair skin just spattered with freckles over her nose and upper cheeks, and unruly strawberry blonde hair she keeps tied in a tail. She dresses more ruggedly than her noble lineage might like, though spares no coin for quality's sake.

Personality - Arafel has high standards, for herself more than most. A native of Evermeet, she has seen little of Faerun that she hasn't read about in a book or seen in some magical projection. As much as she seeks to learn, Arafel has an even stronger drive to do. She takes little joy in the accomplishments of her youth, seeing them as no more than hollow preparations for what she wants to accomplish now that she is free to set her own path. Her elders call her naive and unprepared, but even a paltry century of study has convinced Arafel that she can do her part to heal the sickness in the world beyond the sea. And what a part it will be!

Backstory Highlights - Standing in the shadow of a father who was a war hero, and a brother who has become a wielder of High Magic, Arafel has always had feet too small for the footprints she walked in. Being the youngest of the family by far meant she had to work thrice as hard for half the recognition as well. Perhaps her burning desire to prove herself in the outside world is little more than sublimated desire to seek the praise of people who don't have several centuries of practice and experience over her.

Whatever the case may be, she's had no shortage of opportunity. Arafel started learning magic early from her brother long before she apprenticed herself. Her father indulged her with training as well, when time permitted. Each is a master of their craft, and in her quest to embody what is most 'elven,' Arafel has sought tutelage in the ancient elven techniques of wedding sword to spell. After studying this for a time on Evermeet, her tutor recommended she seek out his old master who had returned to the mainland in search of old knowledge in the ruins of the past.

It was there, among the echoes of the glorious past, that the drow came to the surface in a raid. Though her teacher did his best to buy Arafel time to escape, they overtook her, overcame her...and dragged her down into the dark...

RP Example -

"Again."

Arafel took a deep breath and nodded. She lifted her rapier, holding the hilt slightly raised with the point angled slightly down, and began to recite. "Pythiar. Maoren. Aesthetis. Myo...AGH!"

There was a sharp crack as a training blade smacked against her hip, sending the elf lass spinning belatedly away, blinking to keep the tears back.

"You must not become so lost in the words that you no longer see the world," said Theris sternly. He was of older brood than Arafel, with skin and hair nearly white. Unlike the padding she wore, he had only the loose trousers and blousy shirt he always wore, disdaining armor entirely. "Be focused, but stay with your senses."

Cheeks flaming with frustration and humiliation, Arafel nodded. Her hip hurt. So did her thighs. Her back. Her hands. Today's training had not been kind to her. Learning bladework by itself was hard enough, but trying to remember how to move and hold a sword while simultaneously remembering the words of the incantation...and doing both at once while not slowing down...it was madness. It was impossible. Except for Therin, of course.

The older elf watched her, no trace of pity on his finely chiseled features. A friend of her father's, he was just as hard as the old man could be. He was the one who'd first said to Arafel that "an anvil does a sword no favors by denting."

Her father had loved that.

Sensing her hesitation, Therin said, "Amandine, close your eyes." She lifted her eyebrows suspiciously and he gestured. "Do it."

Then everything was just that slightly reddish shade of eyelids on the inside. Arafel heard his footsteps, soft as whispers, coming towards her...and she tensed.

"There," Therin said, his voice quieter now. "Did you feel that? When your arms clenched and your heart lurched? What was that?"

Fear, thought Arafel. Cowardice. Ah, Corellon, take me now...how can I bear this?

"It was your body. You did not think, ah no, he is close I should tense my muscles so it will not hurt so much when he strikes me. You just acted. Your body knows what to do."

She tilted her head slightly, and her left ear tilted a little more, trying to follow his motion.

"You cannot do everything that must be done just here."

Something rapped against the top of her head, and Arafel emitted a startled yelp and tried to duck away.

"You know the spell there," he went on, as if nothing had happened. "You know the sword here."

Another touch, this time on her hand. This time she managed to stay composed.

"Open your eyes."

Arafel complied, and saw Therin moving back to stand before her, his sword in an aggressive position.

"Again."

Last edited by SalmonMax; 06-13-2019 at 01:47 AM.
  #13  
Old 06-10-2019, 07:52 PM
Dreamer Dreamer is offline
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”Firepaw”
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Name: Rinn Ashfire , AKA Firepaw
Race - Tabaxi
Class - Sorcerer
Alignment - Chaotic Good
Religion: Selune and The Cat Lord

Appearance: A young Tabaxi, entering his coming of age years, Rinn has a slender bipedal feline form with bright, round green eyes, orange fur with darker contrasting stripes throughout that fur and a long thin tail trailing behind him, often with an eager twitch.

Personality: Charming and charismatic, Rinn is, well, in a word, cute. Most people think so anyway. He keeps a sparkle in his eye and playful outgoing nature, but, growing up nobility, he knows also how to behave himself and use his manners, when he must. He can be a bit spoiled however, being the youngest in his family as well as how doted upon he was by his mother. While he won’t throw a fit when told ‘no’, he has no qualms against ignoring rules when it suits him, rarely considering the consequences of actions. He thinks that his charm will get him out of any trouble, and when it doesn’t, his magic will.

He puts a lot of stock in his magic. He trusts it, relies on it and actively wants more. The rush of power is an addictive feeling, but he has little desire to study it academically, preferring the mystery and wonder of it. He craves adventure and a life of never quite standing still, and yet he is almost equally drawn to pleasing his parents because as much as he loves magic, he also craves attention and approval, especially from his family. He thinks that power will make them proud, after all, he will never be an Elf, and therefore has to work harder for others to look at him the way they look at his father.

Backstory Highlights:
Rinn was born in a small Tabaxi village, unassuming enough to have not left a lasting impact on his memory. His first memory is of the panic of rushing water. The pull of a voice, whether it was imagined by him, or something else, he couldn’t be sure, but the small toddler was drawn to the water and the next thing he knew, it was surrounding him, filling his lungs.

He awoke, the vision of a creature, almost pure of light. And then, a blink later, he was being picked up by a tall, lithe human woman, whom he would come to call mother. Lara and her husband, an Elf named Ondroth, were nobles returning home from a holiday. While Ondroth had several children with a previous mate, they had all long since grown, but Lara could not have children of her own, and quickly fell in love with the wide green eyes of the little orange-furred child the moment that his whiskers twitched in her direction.

They named him Rinn and he grew up happy in the lands the family owned. He spent long days climbing trees, racing through mud and rolling through the grass which he could do because he’d learned a trick. One day when he was worried he’d get in trouble with his father for not keeping his clothing properly clean, he found that he could make them clean, by seemingly the force of his own will. And he could do much more than that. Sometimes, he could focus and make this happen, but other times, strange and even powerful things would happen even when he didn’t mean for it to.

Rinn’s father told him about magic and the Elf could even do some, although it seemed different from what Rinn could do. He was told over and over to be careful with his power but Rinn always wanted to test his limits and to push them to do more. He enjoyed the feeling of power than ran through his body when he commanded it.

As he got older, he found himself often bored with proper schooling. The family grounds were, by this time, fully explored and even most of the town. He knew it’s secrets and wanted more. Often, travelers would come through the town with many stories of their adventures and Rinn wanted nothing more in his heart to join them and go explore the world outside of his home.

RP Example: Rinn had learned a valuable lesson. The man had come passing through town with stories of great adventures. For hours he had sat at the tavern, entertaining the townsfolk who bought him drink after drink as payment for more. Rinn had seen a kindred spirit, and talked to him several times over the passing days, happy to do his bidding as he told the boy secrets of magic and far away places. After confiding his desire to be an adventurer to the man, who had given him the name of Ardem, Rinn had made a deal that he would take him along on a quest, for a significant amount of gold.

He packed and sneaked out in the middle of the night, excited for the journey. He and Adrem traveled fast, in order to get far enough out that they wouldn’t be immediately brought back by Rinn’s folks. To that end, Ardem had suggested they move through the Underdark, the mystery of which had struck a cord to the naive youth. They camped for the night, and the was the last time he would see Ardem was in the brief moments that he caught sight of the man he’d trusted taking something from a tall, dark Elf, then leaving without a look back as Rinn had chains thrust at him and he fell into an unnatural sleep.
  #14  
Old 06-10-2019, 08:55 PM
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Chaz
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Name: Chazwick "Chaz" Coldbrew
Race: Halfling
Class: Bard
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Background: Folk Hero
Religion: Yondalla, the chief goddess of the Halfling race.

Appearance: Chaz is a fairly young lightfoot Halfling at 35 years old. He's got blonde shoulder length hair, blue eyes, and lightly tanned skin. He stands 3'6" and weighs a bit over 50 lbs. Typically, he's got a smile from ear to ear.

Personality: Chaz is usually the life of the party or he's working on getting there. He's not oblivious to the fact that the world can be cold and unforgiving but rather see's himself as someone that can help to distract others from this hard truth. He is very curious about the world outside of his village and of his people. His biggest ambition is to be a major factor in a grand tale of adventure that can be told for generations. Whether that's a book, a series of books, or song(s) makes no difference.

Like many other Halfling adventurer's before him, he is very brave for his size. His confidence in his own abilities is great but not as great as his confidence in his friends and family that fight by his side. It might be corny but he's always believed that the "good guys" will always win.



Backstory Highlights:
Chaz was born and raised in the small, predominately Halfling, village of Gullykin in the Sword Coast Isles. His father, Fred Coldbrew, owned and operated a tavern and his mother, Bree Coldbrew, provided the live entertainment with her music. Being practically raised in the tavern gave Chaz a great appreciation for good stories, good music and good drinks.

Listening the the stories of traveling adventurer's was his favorite pass time. Followed closely by playing the drums for his mother, up on stage. Around the age of 14, Chaz decided to start training to become a great warrior. He and his friends used makeshift swords and shields, made of wood, and "trained" every chance they got. He was easily the best swordsman among his friends. However, when he convinced a sell sword to spar with him and train him on more advanced techniques (for a small fee, of course!), he quickly realized that direct combat was better left to others. He was not discouraged but rather encouraged to find another path.

He considered following the path of the wizards but he just couldn't imagine spending his days with his nose buried in a book. He wasn't sure what to do until his mother told him about their family secret. "With proper training, you'll have the ability to use magic with your words and music. I know you will wonder why I did not tell you this sooner but it was with good reason. You had to find your own path by trying different approaches before knowing that this was an option..."

Chaz was elated. He worked closely with his mother for several years after that to master the secrets of the Bard. Finally, in his early thirties, he decided that he was ready to put his talents to the test. He joined a small group of sell swords and began using his talents to aid and heal them. Occasionally, he even got to throw a dagger or let loose a bolt from his hand crossbow.

Now, more than ever, he was convinced that he was ready to begin his grand adventure. Unfortunately, he got so excited buying his adventuring gear that he forgot to look into the price of transportation. Once he found out that it was going to cost double the gold that he had left, he knew that he was in a bad spot. He couldn't afford a ticket on a ship and he didn't want to bother his parents for money. That would be no way to start an adventure and he had already said his goodbyes. While asking around at the docks, he stumbled across a smuggler. The shifty looking man said that he was one of the men responsible for loading the cargo on one of the ships. "For 5 Gold, I can get you inside of a 4' by 4' crate, equipped with food, water and a bucket. As long as you're quiet, you should even be able to sneak out and stretch your legs in the cargo bay.."

RP Example:
A hero is born...
"I'm starting to think that we underestimated this troll!" said Human FighterRonin. "I hope you've got something up your sleeve Coldbrew!" Chaz was a bit nervous but mostly excited for this opportunity. Up until this point, he'd been told to stay away from direct contact with the enemy. "You just stay in the back and heal us when we ask for it.." he had been told. Chaz knew that the fighter was struggling and that the Elves' arrows were being largely stopped by the Troll's shield...

"Hey Ugly! Why don't you pick on someone your own size!?" he screamed out. The troll stopped in it's tracks, looked directly at the tiny man and started to laugh. No sooner had it began to laugh than it grabbed it's head in pain, got an angry look in it's eyes and tried to smash Chaz into the ground with it's giant club. Thankfully, the spell was effective enough to do the trick. The troll's attack missed him, as it seemed to be having trouble focusing. That was the distraction that Ronin and Wood Elf RangerVaris needed. Varis was able to use some sort of ensnaring stirkemagical strike with his longbow that caused vines to come up and restrain the monster. Unable to dodge out of the way, it took another direct hit from Ronin's longsword.

The troll was obviously on it's last leg at this point and (thankfully) still wrapped up in the vines. Uncertain of what else to do, Chaz scrambled for his hand crossbow and let loose a bolt. With a direct hit to and through the troll's right eye, the fight was over.

Once they rolled back into town, Ronin bought drinks for the three of them and began telling stories of their feat. Somehow, the only part that the Halfling's in the tavern seemed to be interested in were the parts about Chaz "Manipulating the troll into 'his trap' and then using the opportunity to fire a direct shot with his trusty crossbow to kill it."

Walking into a trap
After arriving in the new land, Chaz was extremely excited to get out and explore it. He had never been this far away from his village. He wanted to ask what the name of these new lands was and which way to go for the closest town but he didn't think that was a good idea after being a stowaway on a ship that wasn't even meant for passengers. He never intended to be dishonest but there was no way that he could afford the price of transportation after buying his adventuring gear.

Instead, he was going to have to figure it out on his own. He saw a fascinating mountain range and decided to go for a hike. Maybe he could even find a small village somewhere near the base of the mountains? On his second day of travel, things were going fantastically. He was a bit concerned that he hadn't seen any sort of civilization just yet but those concerns were relieved when he saw some sort of Elven hunting party. They were darker skinned than any Elf that he had ever seen but who was he to judge? He was not surprised to see, what he interpreted to be, annoyed looks on their faces. That was typical of most Elves' he had ever encountered. However, it was a bit of a shock when he spotted what looked like an array of travelers being transported in chains. Chaz didn't know what was going on but he didn't like it. He was scrambling for his crossbow when he heard one of the Elves' muttering something in a language that he did not understand. He didn't know the language but he knew what it sounded like when a wizard was conjuring a spell. Unfortunately, that was the last thing that he heard before waking up in chains....
__________________
I have taken the Oath of Sangus

Last edited by Treble83; 06-15-2019 at 10:51 PM.
  #15  
Old 06-11-2019, 02:08 AM
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Name - Lerissa Vattis
Race - Tiefling
Class - Bard
Alignment - Chaotic Neutral
Appearance - Lerissa stands at 5'5 with her black horns sticking out of her white hair. Her skin gives off the reddish tent of her people when the light shines on her and her pure black eyes give off a glint of hope. She does not try to hide the fact that she is a tiefling, even though she does get strange looks from people. She keeps her hair short to not get in the way of her playing and dancing. She carries herself with a smile, nodding and makes eye contact with all those she comes across. She usually keeps her lute slung on her back ready to break out into a song in a moments notice.
 
Personality - Lerissa makes the best of the bad situation that the gods have given her. She greets everyone as a friend and tries not to let prejudice influence her. She knows what it is like to have people judge her. Her cheery attitude is just on the surface. She is quick to let her inner demons show when she is wronged to many times. When people show their true colors, Lerissa is one to hold onto it. To her friends, there is none more faithful than her.
Backstory Highlights - Being a tiefling, Lerissa grew up in the poor parts of town. Her parents left her to fend for herself and she was bounced from town to town and city to city to fend for herself. When she was 8 years old, she was sneaking into the Rusty Nail Inn to try and beg/steal some food. The innkeeper was tired of seeing Lerissa in there and threw her out. For whatever reason, the traveling bard Tura had compassion and took Lerissa under her wing and showed her the joy of being a bard. Years later, Tura has died of natural causes and Lerissa has continued her bard carrier. The lute that Lerissa caries was Tura's and is her most prized possession.

RP Example: How did you get captured by the drow and imprisoned in the Underdark? Or feel free to write something a little more freeform if you prefer.

It was a bright sunny day as Lerissa decided it was time to head to the next town. As she was heading out of town, she stopped by the Rusty Nail Inn. Over the past few years, the ownership has changed and Lerissa is now a regular player in the Inn. As she walks in she is greeted by Rusty, "Hello Lerissa! Are you here to play for us today?" Lerissa turns to Rusty and her soft cheerful voice. "Not today Rusty." Lerissa has always found it funny that Rusty bought the Rusty Nail Inn from the previous owner Larry. It must have been ordained by the gods. Glad to know that they have favor on some people. "I am going to hit the road and head south." "Be careful out there today. I have heard that the drow have been out in force this past week." "You know me, never meet a stranger. Maybe they just need a friend." Lerissa said with a big smile as she waves and heads out the Inn. She swears she heard Rusty mutter something as she left. Indeed, she did hear Rusty mutter that she was probably going to get robbed out on the road. Lerissa grabbed her Lute and played a gentle diddy as she was traveling south. Before she knew it, a group of drow surrounded her. She gave a slight smile, "Can I interest you boys in a song?" The leader of the group of drow waved at his men to move in towards her. "No song today. You will be coming with us. As the drow start to move in, Lerissa smile turned into a wicked grin. She strummed down on her lute as a wave of thunder came out from around her. She then shouted as the earth started to shake. Some of the drow went down but Lerissa was quickly overtaken and was knocked out. As she was passed out she had dreams of her journey from a young tiefling living on the streets to now being able to travel and bring joy to everyone all over. But there is no telling what she has found herself in now.
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