[D&D-5e] [Eberron] Fallen

[Ermine]

Originally Posted by mad_gondsman

They don't really fit in my vision of things. In a world where magic is the bedrock of civilization, there are more efficient ways to blow people up.

That's what I figured. But I'm still thinking~

Gwen Name: Gwen. She's the last person she knows from her family to survive, and couldn't bear the guilt of carrying their surname. Race: Variant Human (Lucky feat) Alignment: Neutral Good Classes: Cleric (Twilight)/Warlock (Undead) Background: Guild Artisan (Cooks and Bakers) -Personality Traits: I don’t part with my money easily and will haggle tirelessly to get the best deal possible. I’m well known for my work, and I want to make sure everyone appreciates it. I’m always taken aback when people haven’t heard of me. -Ideal: Freedom. Everyone should be free to pursue his or her own livelihood. -Bond: I will get revenge on the evil forces that destroyed my place of business and ruined my livelihood. -Flaw: I have too many voices in my head, all telling me to go different directions. Appearance: Brown hair in impossibly complex braids. Blue left eye (the right is lost since the Mourning) that picks up the sources of sounds she can't hear in her right ear, always moving and alert, and with a hint of Boldrei's light behind them. Fair skin, arguably a little too fair. Lithe figure, with just enough muscle to intimidate...or attract. Her clothing is unremarkable, but she does wear a holy symbol of Boldrei. Her face has elements of death still clinging to it, but only loosely so far. In her Form of Dread, she wears a ghostly bird skull mask, has spectral black wings, and wears a long, ethereal scarf. History: From Cyre, and was killed (and brought back) during the Mourning. Worships Boldrei, and was a priestess of hers before her death. Now, her own personal psychopomp wants in on that action in return for sparing her life. Now, from the trauma of death, she deals with many seperate voices in her head, and her own is probably the quietest. She has tried to go on with her life, at first on the outskirts of Sharn, stealing to live. She became quite good at cooking the scraps she found in the city mixed with what little food she got from the wilds around the city. She shared with other denizens of the outskirts at times, making numerous acquaintances, but precious few friends. One of these acquaintances got her in touch with a guild of cooks and bakers within the city. She was doing quite well for herself, with a small restaurant until her place was ruined by local ne'er-do-wells, or alternatively, as she suspects, the authorities hunting the punks. An errant fireball, specifically, destroyed the entire building and its contents (well, most of them. Metal pots and pans were fine). The authorities did nothing about it, not that she'd initially trusted them to begin with. And there was nothing she could do about it other than give up her restaurant. Besides, the voices in her head all had been calling for her to take up something different, something more useful - a call to arms, more or less - so she joined the Deathgaters. She may be the most wholesome from among their members, but she wouldn't care if something were to "happen" to those with power in Sharn, and she's seen what she believes was magical power that had become too corrupt (she specifically holds a grudge against House Cannith, blaming them for the Mourning, despite no evidence).

[FatherDondo]

Application Name: Irma Dinkley Race: Ghostwise Halfling (uses silent speech for the verbal components of her spells) Alignment: NG Class: College of Creation Bard Appearance: Irma is a perpetually disheveled halfling who is rarely, if ever, seen without her folio, parchment, pens, charcoal, and paints. Her brown hair is kept in a semblance of order with paintbrushes, and she dresses mostly in castoffs (often clothes outgrown by patrons' children). She's "invisibly homeless," sleeping on her friends' rugs or in stables, so it's not unlikely to see stray bits of straw on her. She also wears fingerless gloves that she is fastidious about keeping clean (it wouldn't do to smudge her work, after all). Background: Guild Artisan (painter) Irma is a local, and has been puttering around Deathgate for ages. For the most part, her profits get reinvested into her work, with room for little else, like traveling or leisure.Where is your character from? She didn't particularly like the idea of fighting herself, she'll typically leave that for a last resort if she can, but she did care about the community, and her cohort who went off to the war. So, she contributed with some basic first aid and bandage-making. She's not fond of the bloodshed, but rationalized that she was undoing bloodshed in her volunteer hours, and she would not have to do much of it herself in the stations as compared to the front lines). What were they doing during the Last War? Irma had started casting magic quite by accident. While painting a noblewoman's portrait in her music room, she hummed to herself in her head, in tune with the music being played by the noble's harpist. The charcoal sketch she'd started with before she started painting slid off the paper and drunkenly clambered across the room. Her shock and amazement was cut short when her creation knocked over an expensive vase with its wire-frame face. In short, Irma needed the Guild to keep her out of debtors' prison.How did they come to join the Deathsgate Guild of Adventurers? The Player (Optional): I'm an aspiring writer with a touch of writers' block for my main story, and mildly saddened that I don't have the time for video games like I used to (shrug). I am by trade a social worker, though I'm trying to get off my butt and get a teaching certification (as much as people complain about teachers' pay, social workers' are much worse and the job is more stressful). I've been doing DnD for a few years (my first game was here on rpgx, actually), though this would be my first Eberron game. Picking a favorite monster is pretty hard; you're certainly spoiled for choice. Hags are fun, and I came across the maedar a little while ago, which I thought was interesting (from previous editions, a rare male medusa that returns beings to flesh from stone so that what the medusa catches can be eaten). Idk about punk rock, but I'm pretty certain glam rock was a marketing scheme (I mean, c'mon). That and to a lesser extent the goths. I think they started their thing and it was glommed onto later.

If there's something here that doesn't fit, please feel free to tell me and I'll fiddle with it

[rowsdower44]

Application Name: Gildewing (Gilda) Race: Swiftstride Shifter Alignment: TN Class: Monk Appearance: Gilda has a lithe and nimble body, a product of her regimen of running through the streets and jumping across towers. Her face is adorned with large eyes and bestial long ears. Her shoulder-length her is usually pulled back into a ponytail. She prefers to wear light clothing and only carry what is necessary. Background: Personality Trait - I hide scraps of food and trinkets away in my pockets. Ideal - I help people who help me - that's what keeps us alive. Bond - My town or city is my home, and I'll fight to defend it. Flaw - Gold seems like a lot of money to me, and I'll do just about anything for more of it Urchin Where is your character from? Our hero hails from the lower districts of Sharn. She isn't sure where exactly as she was always moving from place to place. As a shifter, she knew that she did not fully belong with the other humanoids. She learned very quickly to live on the streets, take what scraps she could get, and avoid confrontation; though, her fists got her out of many situations. She took on the moniker Glidewing as her agility allowed her to run through the streets deftly and jump across perilous platforms as if she were a glidewing soaring through the sky. What were they doing during the Last War? Gilda's swiftness and keen senses made her an excellent scout and guide. It was at this point that she started to go by Gilda in an effort to not scare off potential clients with her bestial name. She offered her services to the highest bidder and led groups through the lands of Khorvaire. Her urchin ways helped her scavenge war-torn lands for scrap metal which she'd sell to local caravans. How did they come to join the Deathsgate Guild of Adventurers? After the battlegrounds were pilfered for their worth and the Treaty of Thronehold was signed, Gilda returned to the lower districts of Sharn. The reclaimed steel from the war sold far more than the scraps she stole during her childhood, so Gilda looked into bigger scores. Either due to inexperience or bad luck, Gilda became targeted by Daask due to her actions. She wasn't sure if she had stole from an elite from the organized crime organization or she got in the way of their plans. Either way, she wasn't about to ask and she laid low, going into hiding. After time had past, she decided to join the Deathsgate Guild not only to provide them with her skills and knowledge of the lower city, but also to gain protection should Daask come looking for her. The Player (Optional): I've been playing role-playing games for about twenty years. I've been lurking on these boards for a few years and I started a solo game a few months ago. I have been playing around with ideas in my head on running an Eberron campaign here. Then, I saw your ad and thought why not be a player in the game I've been wanting to play! To me, Eberron is a setting that shows the logical advancement of magic. As magic is used, taught, and allowed to proliferate, people find ways to make their lives easier and how to profit off of it. From the continual flames illuminating Sharn's streets to the Lightning Rail allowing quick transportation, there are several interesting ideas to interact with. By using a wide-magic over high magic type of setting, Eberron gives a unique experience with cool magical stuff in early levels.

[NonCausalFact]

Hi, Gondsman! How are you?

Will you allow pictures later? I love using pictures! (...and why are people so frequently not allowing pictures?)

Otherwise... here I come!!!!!

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Aziz Al Fayaat

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WIP

Character
Name: Aziz Al Fayaat
Race: Human
Age: 18
Class: Warlock (pact with "The Great Old One")

Concept
At the age of ten, Aziz was hired by archaeologists as an errand boy and ended up connected to an eldritch entity when he accidentally broke an ancient urn the researchers had unearthed.

Backstory
Reality. The thing that binds us all. If one sees one thing, all the others see the same, right? Well... not *all* the others. Meet Aziz.

[IrishKatt]

Grakdrom "Kor'Kurar"
Goblin Rogue, and Shaarat'khesh


Class
Rogue

Subclass
Assassin


Alignment
Lawful Neutral
My loyalty can be bought, but I operate by a code

Age
25


Personality

Grakdrom tends to be impartial to most things, keeping a low profile, and not drawing any attention to himself. To Grak, and many of the Dhakaani, his duty, or muut is of paramount importance to him, and he will go to near any length to keep it and his honor, or atcha intact. both go hand in hand. Because of his being Shaarat'khesh, Grak maintains a strict code of neutrality, it being one of the main reasons the Shaarat'khesh have stayed alive all these years. This means that Grak does what his job entails, and doesnt let emotion get in the way which can come off as cold. Muut, and Atcha make it so. With common being Grak's second language he oft times will slip in words or phrases of his mother tongue while speaking common. This can cause some confusion with others, but they tend to get the jist of what he means. A little displaced from his beloved home of Darguun Grak tries to find the comforts of his home wherever he can be it talking with goblinoid mercenaries, or cooking some delicious noon, and shaat'aar like his Nunu used to. Despite wearing what most would assume a melancholic to annoyed expression Grak enjoys his life, and where he is save for a bit of homesickness.
Since his work in the last war Grak has come to have a deep dislike for undead, not so much a fear, but more so a preference towards killing things that are still yet to die once. Grak enjoys honing his skills, and practicing his craft as often as he can; being part of what makes one Dhakaani, but the red-skinned goblin is a bit of a sucker for skill games, tart wines, and savoury salty foods. Things he will try to have on hand as often as he can when not on a job, and an easy way to try and gain favour with the goblin.

Appearance

Standing three and a half feet tall with deep wine-red skin blotched with darker red almost black spots like freckles about his arms, and forehead. His long bulbous nose sticks out quite a bit before coming to a slight, but thick curve downward above a mouth filled with sharp slightly yellowed teeth. His eyes a deep amber-yellow that fills the "whites" of his eyes jaggedly meet orange and red flecked irises that seem to peer through you, like a predator watching prey. His fingernails are jet black, thick, and almost claw like, the nails only accentuated by his dark stained leathers marked with Shaarat'khesh symbols, giving some strange foreign design to the finish. Grak's hair is a dusty grey colour that is pulled back tight into a ponytail, and often times stuffed into a long cap if not wearing a dark hood. His long red ears stand out away from his head making them look much more pronounced than normal, the tip of his right ear missing, and a couple notches out of his left ear show off some scars of his past. If one were to watch him for any extended period of time one would notice his movements are always very deliberate and precise. He may not keep himself dressed in fine clothes, or even wholly clean clothes most of the time, but his mannerisms, and actions convey a confidence that only comes with certain harsh lifestyles.


Background

Life in the Dhakaani Empire is unlike anything else in all of Khorvaire, much like anywhere you go, but unlike everywhere else Dhakaani history is some of the most ancient in all of that passed down. Succession, war, dynasties, these were all an enormous part of the life of any goblinoid living in the empire, but the Dhakaani are only half of goblin society. The Golin'dar or City Folk were different from their Dhakaani cousins. The large houses always trying to get more sway, Lhesh Haruuc trying to keep the clans in line, and expand his empire, the clans themselves warring, none of these were much problem for Grakdrom, or any of the Shaarat'khesh for that matter as they were thankfully outside of it all. Although part of the militaristic Dhakaani, the Shaarat'khesh are unaligned to any party that isnt paying their services.

Away from the hustle and bustle of the bigger cities there are gatherings of the Khesh'dar or "Silent Folk", and amongst them are the clans of the Shaarat'khesh and the Taarka'khesh the Silent Blades, and the Silent Wolves. Both are elite goblin clans that have dedicated their life to very specific paths, the Shaarat'khesh; infiltrators, spies, and assassins all working for whoever hires their services. Grak counted himself amongst their kin, but blood relation means little to the Shaarat'khesh as on multiple occasions Grak cut down kinsmen without a second thought. Their creed dictating that they follow their orders regardless who or what stands in their way. Such is the way of a clan that lives by way of neutrality; cruel, and foreign to most, but to the goblins of the Shaarat'khesh this is what cemented their place in the constant warring political landscape of the empire.

Being young, skilled, and for hire Grak was put to use in the war for exactly what you would expect of the Shaarat'khesh. Cutting off supply lines, intercepting intel where available, and asassinations were just a few of the types of jobs he worked while under employ in the war, but once all that ended he didnt really have anything else to do. When the war ended Grak was in Sharn finishing up some orders, but was definitely not wealthy, nor of fanciful tastes so he made his way down to the lower levels of the city. The farther he went the more untamed it seemed to be, both people, and surroundings alike were more akin to the way he felt when back in the war. It seemed the shadier people were the more use they had for someone who could accomplish those things without drawing attention.

Word spreads fast amongst dar (what goblinoids refer to their race as) especially when things like the Shaarat'khesh are involved, and jobs need doing. Grak found himself with a bounty of work from the dar that lived in Deathsgate who wanted to rely on services of something familiar from the homeland. Rather than have his identity as Shaarat'khesh be completely outed Grak decided to join the Deathgate Guild as a way of taking jobs, and allowing his dar clientele some semblance of peace. Knowing any job dealings will simply look like slightly less shady dealings than if they needed to employ a member of the Shaarat'khesh.

Grak has enjoyed his work with the guild to date, it keeps his pockets full, and his boredom at bay. He has even done a few jobs with other dar, and made a few companions along the way, though he doubts any know the depths the word "companion" goes with Grak. Part of the reason he hasn't relocated back to the nation of Darguun is because he feels some sense of muut and atcha being in and on top of Duur'shaarat (Blade of Sorrows), the hobgoblin ruins that form Sharn's foundation. Though not having contempt for most, like majority of Dhakaani, Grak still felt a duty, a draw to this place despite the divide between Golin'dar, and the Dhakaani.

[Treble83]

Posting interest

[mad_gondsman]

Originally Posted by Solitaire64

Definitely interested. My favorite DND Total Party Thrillpodcast has a DM and player who enjoy the setting and they've really made the high-magic/high-'tech' world sound fascinating. I held off on buying the Eberron sourcebook as I never thought I'd get the chance to play in this setting, but it's time to pick it up.

That's great! Feel free to ask questions here if you run into something that grabs your attention. I was planning on posting something about the broader themes like the Last War, Dragonmarks, and the absence/silence of "gods" in the setting, but you'll get to it.

Originally Posted by NonCausalFact

Hi, Gondsman! How are you?

Will you allow pictures later? I love using pictures! (...and why are people so frequently not allowing pictures?)

I'm doin' alright! And sure, I'll allow pictures later. I like to create battlemaps, so players will for sure get to pick something for a token. I'm still not crazy about them in posts, but if they're small and tucked off to the side, it's not a huge deal. I prefer novels to graphic novels, I guess.

[FatherDondo]

If it helps, what I do to make portraits more manageable is to download the one you want, resize it, and then post it to imgbb, or something similar

[Ermine]

So many warlocks. O.o

Edit: I remember there being more warlocks than there are. Don't mind me.

[Alatere]

Aegis is an old favourite of mine who I originally played in 3.5. He was originally a Monk / Fighter but I don't think the Monk / Warforged combination works that well in 5e so I might have to rebuild him as a fighter.

Aegis Name: Aegis (House Cannith designation ZX series warforged unit 74732) Race: Warforged Class: Fighter *** Region of origin: Cyre Background: Aegis was created in the forges of House Cannith deep in the centre of Cyre Towards the end of the Last War, once functional Aegis was then designated as unit 74732 and remained within the facility for about a month. During this time Aegis was modified and recieved specialist training to fulfil the role he was to be given in the war. Aegis was designed and trained to be a bodyguard to important individuals, once his training was complete he was assigned to an army unit in Cyre with the sole purpose of keeping the captain alive. The captain Aegis was assigned to was called Darvin he was a brilliant military mind and was responsible for a number of Cyran victories, as such assasination attempts on captain Darvin's life were common, but time and time again Aegis would foil such attempts. Due to this Captain Darvin gave Aegis his name as he served as his shield against would be assassins. Aegis was vey succeful at keeping captain Darvin alive till disaster fell on the whole of Cyre. The 21st Cyran guard (Captain Darvin's unit) were engaged in a battle on the border of Cyre with a greater number of Dhakkani Hobgoblins, the battle was going well and victory would soon be won when suddenly a wall of solid mist suddenly rushed fourth from the centre of the country and washed over the entire battlefield like a tidal wave. In the few moment that Aegis was without sight engulfed by the wall of mist everything had changed. Both armies lay on the ground dead their inards on the outside and their outside on the in, some had become fused with the rocks or the ground or even each other. Worse still not all of the mutilated individuals were dead, some still moved about though seemingly stripped of all sentient thought, and there stood Aegis alone the single survivor from a force of hundreds. Alone and with out anyone else to give him orders, Aegis attempted to return to his units command base deep in the centre of Cyre but as he ventured deeper into what had now become the Mourneland he found the that the countries new inhabitants forced him back. Eventually Aegis left the remnants of Cyre and met up with a band of Cyran refugees, Aegis took it upon himself to protect these few remnants of Cyre and travelled with them for some time untill they eventually found a new home in Breeland. Then Aegis found himself in a situation where he was without purpose or anything productive to accomplish. By chance one day a band of adventurers passed through the refugee camp and Aegis was offered work.... Personality: Aegis serving in an army unit of mostly human men decided he too must of course be male. Aegis generally has trouble striking up meaningfull relationships due to the fact the difficulty he has understanding humans and the other 'fleshy' races. However partly due to his personality and partly due to how he was created Aegis is incredibly loyal and protective to those he serves or travels with, he would not hesitate for a second to risk his own destruction in order to save a companions life. One of the key things Aegis does not understand about humanoids is humour, though he has on several occasions attempted to make jokes inorder to fit in often to disasterous effect. Aegis also has a tendancy to take things completly litterally and often misinterprets things such as metaphors. As a soldier from the last war Aegis' mind is often occupied with searching for threats and assesing the combat capabilities of those around even in the most mundane of situations. Description: Aegis stands 6'6 tall and is built and I mean litterally built very solidly, he is a tower of steel and adamantine. In the cente of his chest and forehead Aegis bears the symbol of Cyre the location that he was both constructed and served during the last war. Every so often over Aegis' body are a large number of small raised bumps or studs, these are actually spikes that can be extended for deadly effect in combat. Roleplay sample:   Aegis was not a subtle man... in truth he was not truly a man at all... When he walked in to a room all eyes would instantly be drawn to him but then again it was pretty hard to ignore a six foot six tall solid wall of dark metal whose every step caused the sound of a hammer striking stone... it was not like he was a changeling who could disappear amongst a crowd! Now however Aegis was being particularly unsubtle. With a loud crack wood shattered and splinters were sent flying as a solid metal foot collided with the tavern door. Where the door once stood now the frame was filled by the bulky metal form of the warforged. Strange inhuman eyes carefully studied the room appraising each individual within the room while seemingly searching for something. 'Fifteen occupants, ten humans, three goblinoids and two dwarves' Aegis silently assessed as his eyes darted around the room. ' Tavern master, human, male, past his physical prime however build and stance suggest past combat experience, unarmed however likely has weapons concealed within the tavern... threat level moderate. Barmaid, human, female, reaction suggests no combat experience, unarmed, threat level minimal designation non combatant. Lone human, cloaked and hooded, concealed blades under cloak. Dragonmark on right forearm possible House Tharashk. Threat level moderate to high. First group, humans, four, appearance suggest merchants, daggers worn on belt, crossbows unloaded and placed on floor, despite presence of weapons reactions and stances suggest lack of combat experience, threat level low. Second group, humans, two, cloaked in an attempt to conceal appearance, daggers worn on belt, second individual also has daggers concealed on left leg and right wrist, Threat level moderate. Third group, dwarves, two, humans, one. Dwarves unarmed, appearance suggests well off merchants. Human has longsword worn on belt. Stance defensive. Likely bodyguard with combat experience but shows no obvious affiliation with House Deneith. Threat level moderate. Fourth group , hobgoblins, two, goblins, one, all armed, first hobgoblin has a large sword on its back, second has a large composite bow, goblin has a pair of shortswords. Likely mercenaries and undisciplined. Threat level high...' Aegis immediately summarised sizing up each individual threat present in an instant just as he had been both designed and trained to do. A sudden movement then caught the warforged's eye and with a burst of motion his powerful arm shot out and caught one of the hobgoblins by the throat as they attempted to take the ever vigilant warforged by surprise. "I am not here for you Dhakaani" Aegis boomed with a deep somewhat gravelly voice. As he spoke Aegis did not bother to turn his head in the direction of the captured hobgoblin instead deciding to continue searching the room for his target though he tightened his grip while slowly raising his arm so that the hobgoblin's feet began to dangle. The sound of a bowstring being drawn taut however did catch Aegis' attention and in response he slightly adjusted the position of the captured hobgoblin using him as a living shield against the hobgoblin archer incase he decided to take a shot. 'The enclosed environment of a tavern would be a disadvantage to ranged combat using a longbow increasing my chances of success in an ensuing confrontation however the chances for collateral damage would be high and the other occupations are unknown factors in addition such a confrontation would likely allow my target to make an escape. It is therefore preferable to avoid conflict. Optimal course of action use physical intimidation to discourage goblinoids from taking any further aggressive actions...' Aegis silently summarised. Spluttering somewhat due to his restricted airway the first hobgoblin fumbled at his belt and drew a wicked looking dagger. Still Aegis did not seem to outwardly react, he had fought Dhakaani hobgoblins before and while he knew their daggers could cause serious damage to soft human flesh it would do little to his adamantine skin and likewise the poison that undoubtedly the goblinkin had coated the blade with would do next to nothing to his artificial body. Striking out the hobgoblin slashed at the arm that held him but unlike there would have been against a human there was no sudden spray of blood instead the sound of metal striking metal echoed around the now hushed room as sparks flew from the contact that was made. For the first time Aegis turned in the direction of the hobgoblin and though the Warforged's face did not really display emotion he made his best attempt at a frown. "That was unwise..." Aegis rumbled out before once again tightening his grip causing powerful metal fingers to dig in to the soft flesh of the hobgoblin's throat. The hobgoblin began to thrash in a desperate attempt to escape as his hands clawed at Aegis' fingers trying to pry them apart but Aegis was a master of unarmed combat (if a being forged out of adamantine could ever truly be considered unarmed) and the hobgoblins attempts were futile. Eventually the hobgoblin lost the strength to hold the blade and it clattered noisily to the tavern floor before the hobgoblin's whole body went limp. A slight whistling was then all the warning that Aegis got before an arrow suddenly struck him in the shoulder. Aegis however was no soft skinned human and the arrow merely bounced off his adamantine shell leaving barely a scratch. Slowly Aegis looked up locking eyes with the archer. "I repeat I am not here for you Dhakaani do not make me say it a third time..." Aegis declared emotionlessly though with the hint of a threat. Seeing that the hobgoblin in his grip was now unconscious Aegis let it drop unceremonious to the floor where it landed in a heap, the goblins were not his mission and was therefore not important, hopefully they would be wise and back off now that they had been given the opportunity to do so. Aegis then took a slow deliberate step forward his footstep echoing around the room. Aegis noted that all attention was now firmly upon him as the other occupants of the room subtly backed away from him. "Alver Krannst you will return what you stole" Aegis suddenly announced getting a collective sigh from most of the occupants of the tavern as they realised that the warforged was not here for them. One man however a somewhat gaunt and weasely looking man with a scraggly beard flinched and recoiled further as his eyes darted around the room as if looking for somewhere to run. Homing in on his target Aegis noted that he matched the description that he had been given. (It had taken some time to get a lead on the man who had stolen the Cyran artefact but fortunately Aegis was blessed with impressive patience and determination and eventually he was fortunate enough to run in to a young Mage by the name of Amir who had encountered the man that he was pursuing. ) With his target in sight Aegis strode purposefully forward as his feet ominously hammered upon the floor, he ignored the other tavern patrons as they hastily skirted round him and made for the exit while his attention seemed to be solely focused on his target. "It would be unwise to run, I do not tire and I would catch you!" Aegis declared firmly as he watched the man's eyes glance longingly towards the door. In the man's moment of indecision Aegis then lunged forwards grabbing the man by the front of the shirt before abruptly lifting him and letting his legs dangle helplessly much like the hobgoblin's had not long before. "Now tell me where is the artefact?" Aegis demanded his seemingly emotionlessly eyes boring in to the man's fearful ones. "I.... I don't have it..." Krannst exclaimed getting only a glare from the stoic warforged. "It's the truth I swear... I don't have it... anymore..." the man all but screamed as he wondered if this was how his new friend had felt when he was set upon by the temple guardian of Kol Korran. "The boy... it must have been the boy Gaspar he must have took it... please its the truth" the man pleaded his eyes slightly widening. "You had better not be lying!" Aegis boomed lifting the man higher off of the ground. "Now you will tell me everything you know of this Gaspar!" Aegis began before the sound of a bowstring once again being drawn drew his attention for the second time. Slowly turning his head Aegis quickly noted the majority of the tavern occupants had took the opportunity to leave. All that remained were the three goblinoids. The first hobgoblin had seemingly recovered and now held his large sword in a double handed grip while the little goblin held both of it's blades while standing atop on of the tables and finally the last hobgoblin had its bow drawn and was ready to fire. "I had hoped to avoid this..." Aegis declared as he dropped his target and prepared to charge in to battle.

[delpinator]

sai name: sai race: changeling class: hexblade1/rogue1 background: criminal alignment cn (I'll do whats in my best interest not having everyone stab me in the back is one of those) traits When I'm in doubt about revealing something, I assume it's a secret, and I don't share it. I'm good at hidding my feelings and motives ideals I desire discover hidden knowledge and secrets bonds I owe my life to kreelo which equals 7000 gold flaws I put an innocent man in jail to maintain a secret and will likely do so again. Appearance: this depends on the task though in general when not on a mission sai tends to look half-elven to benefit from the social graces granted to the mixture of races alongside the obscurity of the blending of races. He is of average height at 5'8". He has shoulder length brown hair tied when working. He has no facial hair and a kind smile though his teeth odly perfect. He wears dirty clothes and a dark hood. A crossbow is on his back and there are numerous pockets along the inside of his cloak. Background: In addition to choosing an actual "Background", think about the following: Where is your character from? What were they doing during the Last War? How did they come to join the Deathsgate Guild of Adventurers? The Player (Optional): Tell me about yourself, if you like! What do you like most about Eberron? I like how it integrates sci-fi into the fantasy genre. I love the idea of steam punk and this pulls alot from this genre. What's your favorite DnD monster? Was punk rock really just a scam to sell hair products and leather jackets? Punk rock like many times in culture was needed to cancel an overbearing culture that had become stale like grunge and rock n roll. Leaving British rock to the sing song Beatles copies would have made music horrible kept art uninspiring.

[mad_gondsman]

Added a little clarification to the tone in the ad, in case it was not obvious. The Deathsgate Guild has a problem with authority and the classism that is apparent in Sharn. It's up to the players how they choose to address/challenge that. The people who come to the Deathsgate Guild for assistance are cut from a different cloth than those higher in the city.

[Ericg1s]

Name: Parker Brown

Race: Human

Alignment: Neutral, in the sense that alignment means making an effort.

Class: Monk (way of shadow)

Appearance: Rather short, with dark brown eyes, skin, and hair, which is kept short. Does not have much facial hair. He wears a hooded robe, wooden sandals, and cloth gloves.

Background: Guild Thief
Ideal: Success/Proving Himself.
Flaw: Daredevil.
Bond: His mentor.
Trinket: Several cheap ribbons woven into a bracelet.

Backstory: He was not quite abandoned by his parents, but they had little time for him, so he was sent to live with a distant half-cousin in another city. Eventually, he was sent to Sharn to study and work, but found no welcome in the academies for nobles in the Upper City, so he made his way to the Middle City, and Halden's Tomb. He was recruited by thieves who noticed his natural talent for stealth and mobility. After about two years with them, he left quietly, vowing not to compete against them, nor expose them. He bears then no ill will for the life fate has forced upon them, but he does not wish to remain a thief forever. The Clifftop guild considers the Deathgates to be thieves as well, but he recognizes the difference. Having been ignored by his family and by the recruiters, he is driven to prove himself capable, which causes him to train and improve his skills, and to test his limits.

Personality: He is driven and focused on his own improvement.

The Player (Optional): I honestly don't know what to say here, except please warn me if I start panicking or complaining.

Other notes: I don't know much about Eberon, except that it has slightly 'grey' morality and a higher technology level than other D&D official settings.

RP Sample: Parker takes a good look around before acting and is thankful that he has been practicing jumping across the rooftops. He backs up a half-dozen steps to have enough running start, and then dashes forward and tries to clear the ledge. His arms are tucked in front to minimize resistance and catch the ledge if needed. Once he has crossed the gap, he will stand ready to catch and assist the others. He avoids using his rope and grappling hook here, and he does not wish to become dependent on such tools.

[Embrodak]

Name: SergeantLhurusk Vrander Gan’duur
Race: Hobgoblin
Alignment: LN
Class: Fighter

Appearance: Six and a half feet of red skinned muscle is the headline one would see in The Korranberg Chronicle describing this young hobgoblin. Vrander is a red skinned Ghaal'dar with thick black hair, standing a few inches high on his head. He wears chainmail armor, and holds an unadorned heater shield. He looks out with a calm expression, a pair of yellow eyes studying all those before him.

Background:
Where is your character from? Vrander was born in the Nation of Darguun, five years after they tore the land from Cyran hands. His clan fought alongside Lhesh Haruuc when they revolted and founded the nation of Darguun.
What were they doing during the Last War? Vrander grew up in Rhukaan Draal and was trained in martial ways since he could hold a sword. His clan worked regularly with House Deneith, and Vrander was trained to be a soldier serving for House Deneith earning money to feed the burgeoning empire. Vrander served for a Deneith task forced based out of Breland and was assigned just as the Day or Morning happened. Vrander trained to serve, but never had a chance to see combat as the nations took a pause in warfare after that faithful day. He has spent that last two years of the war serving House Deneith with various guard duty assignments.
How did they come to join the Deathsgate Guild of Adventurers? Having been stationed in Breland, Vrander looked for a place to use his skills. He gained much mutt serving House Deneith, but he was bored. He needed a a way to earn atcha. His commission coming to term he resigned and found his way to the Deathsgate Guild and saw it as an opportunity to gain atcha.

Short Story A tall red skinned hobgoblin man walks alone as dusk settles over the towers to the west. Being in the Copper Arch, the district was high enough to see the setting sun, but being on the east side of the city, the towers from the Menthis Plateau obscured the view. He walked in the growing darkness to the lift that carried him to the lower wards, as he headed to the Dragonyes District. He kept to the lit streets as he was making his way to his destination, and though alone, people paid no mind to the armored man. He did wear a crimson cloak that matched his skin, but it did not hide the full suit of chainmail, and the large sword at his side. If there was an mark there were easier ones than him. In no time he reaches a building built into the base of a tower that over looked a ridge that led to the Cogs. There were two mugs of what one would say Ale and in between them written in goblin were the words "Sar Darguun", or in common, Little Darguun. The red skinned man gives a nod to a large man sitting outside on a stool. He was a giant of man, over seven feet if he stood, and covered in thick brown hair. The apparent bouncer gave a reciprocating nod and simply says "SergeantLhurusk". The man proceeds to walk in and heads to a back table. His eyes meet the barkeep as he gets to the table and he is given a simple nod. One would call it a dark corner, but the whole room was almost pitch black except for a single candelabra that hung in the center of the room that barely lit the place. It was secluded for the most part with some screen for privacy. Seeing no one seated the red skinned man sits down at the perfectly sized chair and waits. A few moments go by and a goblin woman stops by handing him a drink as he extends his hand swapping the drink for a few silvers. He sniffs at the beverage and nods appreciatively. It was a Bloodwurt Mead, imported from Darguun, the Little Darguun's house specialty. He a deep pull on the mead taking in its warm savory flavors. A good ten minutes go by as a patron emerges from a different darkened spot in the room and heads to the table occupied by the man. The person was as big but with well pronounced wide hips. The two nod to each other as the person sits in the chair opposite. A hobgoblin woman named Bree'aret, a bard and historian from Kech Volaar. "Saa..What is it I can help you with Vrander?" she says in perfect goblinoid. He smiles responding in their native tounge "I did it. I resigned my commission. Free to pursue my atcha." "Marhu orr! she exclaims. "You don't seem excited about it. "I don't know where to go. I have trained for years for a war I could not fight in. I have served gath'dar and guarded their precious riches. I now and free to earn my own atcha, yet I know not where to start." The woman smiles, her lips peeled back revealing her yellow tusk like teeth. "I think I know where you might start, Deathgate was looking for some new blood. Knowing their type they could use you." Vrander smiles wide to match Bree'aret. "Raat shan gath'kal dor"

Personality Traits
I’m always polite and respectful.
I can stare down a hell hound without flinching.
Ideals: Responsibility. I do what I must and obey just authority. (Lawful)
Bonds: My The Dhakaani concept of duty, something owed to the empire and your comrades. Compare with atcha.muut is my life, but is nothing without The Dhakaani concept of personal honor, which must be earned and carefully protected. Compare with muut.atcha.
Flaws: I obey the law, even if the law causes misery.



The Player (Optional): I've been a fan of Eberron since it was first introduced. I love the shades of gray of the world, and the semi-steam punk aspects with out the steam-punk ascetics.

[Solitaire64]

I relied on an Eberron wiki for a lot of this so if the world info is in error I apologize.

Stretch the shadow sorcerer Name: Stretch (Dhorn Urlevson) Race: Human male Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Class: Sorcerer (Shadow) Appearance:   Though his parents were both part-orc, Stretch looks like a human, though not a healthy one. He is tall but thin, lanky and weak looking without much fat or muscle. His skin and bald head have a mottled, wrinkled appearance you would expect of a sickly old man, rather than someone in his late twenties. It often surprises new acquaintances when they see how fast he can move. He plucks his otherwise black bushy eyebrows, keeps his dark beard trim, and even tried wearing ‘make-up’ to make others more comfortable with his appearance. He rarely smiles, and his humor is usually grim. He wears long sleeve jackets, hats, coats with hoods, and the like, regardless of the weather. He wears these clothes to minimize negative reactions to his appearance, but also because he doesn’t enjoy direct sunlight. Background:   Dhorn is from the Torrn clan; most of his relatives that aren’t in House Tharashk live in and around Droaam. Though he lacks a dragonmark, he received bounty hunter training with emphasis on urban work; diplomacy and magical combat support. He fell in with the Deathsgate Guild because Sharn is where it all went wrong for him; he can’t go home, and in the low-rent district of Tavick’s Landing he can do work he is familiar with for and among people who don’t care what his status is. Personality, etc:   Personality Traits: Dark - Has a morbid, grimly humorous attitude about society. Honorable - He tries to keep promises. Usually. Ideals: Family before clan before House. Don't take the bounty of Nature for granted. Bonds: I love children, though they do not tolerate me. I honor the druids, and wish my fate had let me be one. I serve my clan, whether appreciated or not. Flaws: The law failed me. Justice is cold and I will dispense it when that is needed. I can kill a man w/o losing sleep if that solves a problem. Backstory:   Dhorn is a child of the Torrn clan of House Tharashk, but you wouldn't believe it looking at him. A child of part-orc parents, both of whom had the Mark of Finding, their son never manifested a dragonmark. Almost as upsetting, by some strange twist of his bloodlines, he doesn't look the least bit orcish, unlike his three siblings. He was also physically weaker than any of the children around him, even the fully human ones. The result was an unhappy, isolated childhood. It was almost a relief when the young man began manifesting sorcerous abilities. The relief didn't last, for as his powers grew, it seemed his muscle mass decreased further and his appearance became more…unnatural. While his endurance wasn't bad (compared to a human, at least), he couldn't maintain his strength despite training daily. His appearance grew more sickly, with wrinkled, mottled skin more consistent with an old man’s. Yet there seemed to be no sickness plaguing him. This bothered his more superstitious relatives in the Torrn clan. There were mutterings that one of his parents must carry a taint, that the bloodline had been touched by the Dragon Below. This didn't sit well with his druidic father, Urlev, or his bounty-hunter mother, Zhaitka; clan elders had to intercede more than once to make sure a feud break out inside the clan. It didn’t sit well with the boy either; he had wanted to follow his father’s path as a druid. But the Circle told Urlev and Dhorn that the youth must spend time mastering the shadow sorcery that had touched his soul, least he be consumed by it. Despite this drama, Dhorn was accepted into House Tharashk, and began training for bounty hunting and investigative work. His uncanny sight in darkness, combined with a mind that seemed able to sort and analyze details with planing on the Observant featsurprising speed, helped the young man earn acceptance in his clan and house. His future seemed bright.   And then, one day, it all went wrong. While on a job in Sharn tracking down fugitives, Dhorn became concerned, and then suspicious, of the behavior of the senior bounty hunter in charge. The sorcerer had suspected treachery against the house but his inquiries found something far worse; his elder was not simply a worshipper of the Dragon Below, he was actively involved in a cult’s project that could kill thousands in Sharn and stain House Tharashk’s honor forever. By the time the shouting, stabbing, and spellcasting was done, the cultist was dead…and so were three innocents from the house, the only witnesses who could have corroborated Dhorn’s accusation. It was the word of a strange sorcerer against the senior agent he had killed, and the guild leadership had trouble controlling the situation. There were more members ready to accuse him of treachery than there were willing to recognize his heroism. If Dhorn had gone home, a blood feud would have been triggered. And so the young man placed himself in voluntary exile, taking the moniker of Stretch with casual acquaintances. He was still part of House Tharashk but he couldn’t call on their resources without trouble being stirred up. Though he had the right to use the surname “d’ Torrn,” he took the name Urlevson as his formal surname in an effort to reduce tension with other house members operating in Sharn. One of those other bounty hunters might try to kill him someday, and he dreads the consequences for his family if that happens. But for now, Stretch has the (occasional) work and (nominal) protection of the Deathsgate Guild to fall back on.