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  #1  
Old 07-07-2020, 11:36 AM
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Impaleddearan Impaleddearan is offline
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Baldur's Gate: Descent into Avernus



Game NameBaldur's Gate: Descent into Avernus
Game SystemDnD 5e
ThemeSandbox, Campaign, Published Campaign
FlavourFantasy Adventure, Survival,Deadily, City, Hell


Plot Summary

Introduction
The holy city of Elturel has disappeared from the Forgotten Realms and descended into Avernus, the first layer of the Nine Hells. This event came about as the result of an infernal bargain between the archdevil Zariel, who rules Avernus, and the treacherous High Overseer of Elturel, Thavius Kreeg. Zariel is capturing cities and using their citizens as fodder in the ongoing conflict between demons and devils known as the Blood War. Next on Zariel’s list of cities is Elturel’s neighbor, Baldur’s Gate. The characters can be the heroes who descend into Avernus, save Elturel from certain destruction, and prevent a similar fate from befalling Baldur’s Gate.


Applications are closed for current game.

Game Information
Party 4-6
Sources: All published WoTC except UA. ( I will allow UA Ranger)
Starting Level: 1
Character Sheet: Not required for application
Ability Scores: Dice roll in chat when game is set up. Don't roll here.
Gear: Starting gear per background, and class. You can also ask for various non important items. ex.. Smoking pipe, tobacco, hair brush.


Application/Character Idea

Name:
Race:
Alignment:
Class:
Background:
Appearance:
Personality:
Backstory Idea:



Player Character Race Class Background Status
ChiefDisbelief Pravus Tiefling, Descendant of Dispater Warlock, Hexblade Hillsfar Smuggler Complete
Jasontheswift WIP WIP WIP WIP WIP
cappucina Strummer Half Elf Bard, College of Lore Criminal Complete
Pinotage Cora Grorx (Ghostwise Halfling) Cleric Arcana Domain Slave Complete
Drachenspirit Rhanesaum Aasimar Cleric - Arcana Domain Faction Agent - Harper Complete
Corwin Gunnar Stonehammer Mountain Dwarf Fighter Soldier Complete
derpoet Lempira Amastacia Half-elf Fighter Mercenary Veteran Complete
Zinrokh Abaddon Tiefling, descendant of Zariel Paladin of Tempus, Oath of Conquest Urban Bounty Hunter Complete
Murdoch Simon Human Ranger Mason Complete
Night of Blood Elinial Darkwater Shadar-Kai Ranger (Horizon Walker at level 3) Far Traveler Complete
Baxder Chettig Lightfoot Halfling Rogue Sailor Complete
GoombaJosh Detective" Rowan Saturn Human(variant) Rogue Noble Complete
Treble83 Maggie Bell V. Human Rogue (Inquisitive) City Watch Complete
Tachikoma Brevin Cobbler Human Warlock Guild Artisan (Cobbler) Complete
HogwartsDragon Wilt Firbolg Warlock, Fiend Haunted One Complete
JaredSyn Eldon Garrick Gnome (Forest) Wizard Cloistered Scholar Complete
__________________
“The imagination is a weapon. Those who don't use it die first.”
_______________________________________
DM - Curse of Strahd, Descent into Avernus, GameMother of Alien
I swear upon the Oath of Sangus

Last edited by Impaleddearan; 07-13-2020 at 12:20 AM.
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  #2  
Old 07-07-2020, 01:54 PM
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Pravus, Tiefling Hexblade
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Name: Pravus
Race: Tiefling, Descendant of Dispater
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Class: Hexblade Warlock
Background: Hillsfar Smuggler
Appearance: Pravus is a violet-skinned tiefling of toned, slender physique standing about 6'1" and weighing 175 pounds. Pravus has blue hair, fully red eyeballs, pointed ears, and two dark purple horns extending forward and upward out of the edges of his forehead. His facial features are quite angular and somewhat feminine, but objectively attractive to anyone with sexual preference. Pravus wears two large gilded ear piercings, and a labret piercing that is gold as well. He wears a suit of skin-tight dark purple leather armor with a large smooth rock of gold in the middle of the chest for some reason, with two handaxes on his left hip, two daggers on his right hip, and a backpack on his back. When the weather calls for it, Pravus has a winterized leather trenchcoat/cloak stuffed into his backpack.
Personality: Pravus is a sarcastic, flamboyant tiefling who has been conditioned to be cynical from years of living on the streets outcast from society. Be that as it may, he has quite the force of personality, and can get himself into and out of social situations with ease. He is also an apt combatant, never too shy to draw his blades when the time comes, but most of his interest lies in arcane secrets and unfurling the truth behind his familial connection to Dispater, even going so far as to want to go to the Hells to find out directly...
Backstory Idea: The son of a bearded devil and a human woman and direct descendant of the devil Dispater, Pravus has been fortunate enough to be raised in a thriving populous city of many different kinds of people, and spent his life accepted by his peers and members of his community. His mother was a famous artist and made a very good living, and this non-royal high-class live shaped Pravus' personality for years to come. This caused him to become full of himself, and by the time he reached adulthood, both delusions of grandeur and a wanderlust influenced him to try to make even more of himself, and become a powerful well-known spellcaster and do his bloodline right.
You see, Pravus' mother was seduced by a polymorphed bearded devil, and since the night of his conception, Pravus' father has been completely absent. This isn't a bad thing though, because it allowed his mother to integrate him into the society she was a part of without the extra baggage of an immortal devil father coming after them or something like that. His mother used to live in a smaller town, but when word broke of a woman conceiving a devil child, she had to cross the country and blend in with a larger population who surprisingly had seen stranger and more dastardly things.
Due to this, Pravus has a mostly human spirit...but the innate corruption of is very soul is what leads him on his self-righteous path to greatness. In his preteen years Pravus found out how to use Thaumaturgy and took an interest in the arcane, spending most of his teenage years trying to figure it out, but having little luck. Furthermore, a tiefling seeking out wizards for spellcasting tips doesn't necessarily scream "good intentions" when you're raised to keep a low profile in normal society, so this frustrated him until shortly after he finished school. Even though he hadn't acquired the magic knowledge he had hoped by the time he reached adulthood, he still made the choice to leave his mother and his home and go try to make his own destiny. In an edgy bout of frustration, on the night before he was going to leave as he gets ready for bed, he makes an assumedly unheard proclamation alone in his room: "I would literally sell my soul for magic..." This was ten years ago, and since then, the Hexblade itself has found its way into Pravus' life, and he has devoted the rest of his days to becoming a great figure of legend to win his soul back.

More history will be divulged throughout our journey!
OOC"More history will be divulged throughout our journey!" meaning "this guy is from another campaign that got cancelled and i need to redo his backstory and sheet" lol. I'll do that over the next few hours or so. Are we going to be able to use point buy or standard array when choosing ability scores?
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I have taken the Oath of Sangus.
Breaking Glass|Pravus|Same Sims

Last edited by ChiefDisbelief; 07-10-2020 at 05:15 PM.
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  #3  
Old 07-07-2020, 02:14 PM
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Impaleddearan Impaleddearan is offline
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I typically want my characters to roll but you are fine using what you have.
__________________
“The imagination is a weapon. Those who don't use it die first.”
_______________________________________
DM - Curse of Strahd, Descent into Avernus, GameMother of Alien
I swear upon the Oath of Sangus
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  #4  
Old 07-07-2020, 03:59 PM
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JaredSyn JaredSyn is online now
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Level One and off to save the world sounds great to me! Place holder finding an image to represent my character and will build out.

Character Application
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Name: Eldon Garrick (Smokebeard)
Race: Gnome (Forest)
Alignment: Neutral Good
Class: Wizard
Background: Cloistered Scholar
Personality Traits: I’m willing to listen to every side of an argument before I make my own judgment. I’m used to helping out those who aren’t as smart as I am, and I patiently explain anything and everything to others.
Ideal: Self-Improvement. The goal of a life of study is the betterment of oneself.
Bond: My life’s work is a series of tomes related to a specific field of lore.
Flaw: I can’t keep a secret to save my life, or anyone else’s.
Appearance: Eldon is quite typical of members of his race he is average height standing three foot six inches tall and weighing in at a lithe forty pounds. He has dark grey eyes and a well groomed grey beard as well. Even at an early age Eldon's hair has always been grey in color unlike most of his kind of his age. He keeps his hair relatively short and wavy worn pushed back over his head. When reading he has a single monacle due to a bit of a trouble reading small print with one eye.
Personality: Eldon is outgoing and friendly, openly talking to anyone about almost anything. He considers him self to be a very knowledgeable gnome. He often talks slowly when explaining things to others to ensure they can keep up with his quick wit. Sometimes to the point of annoyance though it is not intentional. Otherwise he is a good companion who would give the shirt off of is back to help a friend in need.
Backstory Idea: Eldon was born in a small forest gnome settlement to his parents Alston and Breena. Even from an early age as Eldon's hair began to come in fully it was grey never the browns or dark colors most of his kin had. It quickly became evident that Eldon was exceptionally smart, learning to speak and write before many of his peers. He had an avid appetite for knowledge, and could often be found reading a book on almost any subject matter. Unlike most of his peers who tended to enjoy running about and playing jokes and pranking each other, Eldon studied almost non-stop.

Realizing what little his village could provide for him his parents made the decision to take him from the village and to the city. Making their way to the great library they spoke with the Librarian and made their request. When they left Eldon remained behind. He missed his parent's for a short while but the vastness of the library helped him pass his time. Over the years he never lost his appetite for knowledge and often boasted that he had read every book in the library and some more than once. While it is unlikely this is true, those who have challenged him have often found themselves in shock at how much he actually knows.

He worked for years as a scholar in the library helping those seeking research. Often being paid to find answers for people in the library's vast shelves. As he grew older he began to explore more in relation to magic as well which fascinated him. Even taking on an apprenticeship with one of the Librarians who was a wizard as well. Eldon seemed to have a knack for divination, and it was no surprise when it became his focus in study. Recently though his mentor a human wizard passed away and Eldon has felt as if the library lacks the knowledge he seeks and has decide to set out on is own to increase his knowledge of the world and magic as a whole.


Awesome free pipe tobacco and pipe LOL.
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Current Characters: Barthal, Fezaliax, Galileo, Thorin, Vesden,

Last edited by JaredSyn; 07-07-2020 at 06:46 PM.
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  #5  
Old 07-07-2020, 06:35 PM
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Character App
Name: WiP
Race: Variant Human
Alignment: LG
Class: Oath of VengeancePaladin
Background: WiP
Ideal:
Bond:
Flaw:
Appearance: WiP
Personality:
 

Backstory Idea:
 

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Old 07-07-2020, 06:50 PM
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Application
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Name: Wilt
Race: Firbolg
Alignment: Neutral good
Class: Warlock, Fiend
Background: Haunted One
Appearance: Wilt is a youthful looking Firbolg, fairly tall at 7’4 and of a lithe weight that might hide his actual strength. He has pale blue skin, and brown hair that falls longer in the front than in the back and blue eyes brighter than his skin tone. His ears are long and pointed, but covered in fluffy brown fur, and he has a flat, pinkish hued nose. He often wears his traveling cloak with the hood pulled up and often looks over his shoulder, as if he’s never quite at ease and ready for whatever jumps out of the dark.

Personality: For being young, Wilt is not one that is full of energy. Instead, there is a quiet, soft spoken nature to him, not born of shyness, but out of guilt that he carries like a weight. That guilt is a large part of what drives him to being an adventurer (That, and being outcast from his tribe has given him limited options). But, if he can do some good and help those in need, maybe, just maybe, he can look at himself in a mirror again. He isn’t unfriendly, just cautious about how much others know about him, worried about being outcast further should anyone find out about his pact.

Trait: I don’t talk about the thing that haunts me.
Ideals: I’ll try to help those in need, to keep balance for the evil I do.
Bonds: A terrible guilt consumes me, I hope that I can find redemption through my actions.

Backstory Idea: Before Wilt was born, his clan’s territory was being threatened with extinction. To stop it, his father, the clan chief, made a deal with a demon; a deal that would relegate his first born to the duty of Orcus, the demon prince. The decision was not made lightly, or without regret, but it was made none-the-less.

At 21, still young for his kind, but no longer a child, the chief’s son was finally ready to be of use to Orcus. In a display of the power that he might one day yield, either to entice the boy by the power, or frighten him into submission, necrotic energy rippled from him siphoning the life energy from every creature nearby. It left a ring of withered decay around where he stood, and his father dead in front of him.

Outcast for what he now was, he took on the fitting name of Wilt, and left his home, knowing he’d never return. He was out of balance with nature now, Orcus primarily granting him powers to bring death, not life. In a desperate try to find balance again, Wilt has sought to do good in the world, even if he could only help by bringing death to those who might deserve it.
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Old 07-07-2020, 09:20 PM
Night of Blood Night of Blood is offline
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Name: Elinial Darkwater

Race: Mordenkainen's Tome of Foes pg 63Shadar-kai

Alignment: Neutral Good

Class: Ranger (Xanathar's Guide to Everything pg 42Horizon Walker at level 3)

Background: Sword Coast Adventurer's Guide pg 148Far Traveler

Appearance: Elinial Darkwater has an athletic yet lean frame, with pale skin and shoulder-length hair the color of a raven's feathers. His eyes are blue, yet like the rest of him, they too are pale though they do sparkle with life. He stands just under six feet in height, yet weighs barely one hundred and fifty pounds. Elinial dresses in grey breaches and boots with a white blouse over which he dons his darkened leather armor; a homespun grey and voluminous cloak falls from his shoulders to his heels, nearly dragging the floor behind him as he moves, and a great hood shades his eyes from the brightness of the day, yet hangs loosely at night on his back. Several pouches of varying sizes dangle from his leather belt, as does a simple dagger. Blackened arrows jut from a tattered case on his back, a bow of similar nature strapped to the quiver, yet ready when needed with the simple tug of two leather straps. A large sword is slung over his shoulder on twisted leather cords or carried in his off hand, resting comfortably in a leather-wrapped scabbard.

Personality: Elinial is quiet and observant of his environment, though not sullen as one might expect for a member of his race. Elinial enjoys the life-giving energies of these realms, and the people that surround him. The ranger loves a good story (he's even been known to tell a few in his time), a nice dark wine or ale, and a warm meal; the food of these lands fascinate him, and he relishes the flavor and succulent aroma that comes with every bite.

Backstory Idea: Elinial has been sent to observe the passing of a man called Terenvel, a resident of Elturel, though he was not native to that city. The man, as far as Elinial and the wisest of his family could determine, was nothing in this world; why the Raven Queen wished the memory of his passing was beyond the ranger, but that was not a rare thing when dealing with Her. Upon arriving at the sight where Elturel once stood, Elinial found only a vast and deep crater. Perplexed, yet undeterred, Elinial fell in with a group of refugees traveling to the nearby city of Baldur's Gate. The refugees had claimed that Elturel had vanished in a wash of black energy teeming with crackling energy. It had vanished, that much was clear from the crater he had found in it's stead, but vanished to where? How was he to accomplish the task set before him by his Queen if the subject of said task didn't have the common courtesy to be where he was supposed to be? Hoping to find clues or even answers to these questions, Elinial decided to travel on with the refugees to Baldur's Gate.

When it was noted by several of the refugees that he was not like the elves they had associated with in the past, they began to question his origins. Elinial saw no reason to lie to these men and women, simply stating that he was born and raised near the Darkwater. What Elinial failed to recognize however, was that the Darkwater, as it was called in the Shadowfell, was called the Chionthar in these realms. Several of the refugees, seemingly satisfied if not a bit confused with his answer, simply started calling him the Darkwater elf, which soon shortened to Darkwater. Elinial, amused at the moniker, has taken it as his own, calling himself Elinial Darkwater.

The Raven Queen's Command
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A lone figure, wrinkled and pale of skin squatted on the crookedly-bent and rotting post of a long dilapidated fence, watching the dark water of the wide river churn lazily past beneath a gray and barren sky. A breeze rushed past, cold and humid and bringing a chill to his exposed skin as he pulled his homespun cloak tight. Pale blue eyes peeked out from behind an old wooden mask fashioned into the visage of a frowning elf, and he watched as a twisted log floated by, turning this way and that in the slow-moving current. He sighed, then hopped from the post into the blackened fine dirt on the bank of the river, sending a dust cloud reminiscent of ash into the air. It was nearing final meal, not something that a stranger to these lands would be able to tell by the position of the non-existent sun in the gray sky, but Elinial was no stranger to the Shadowfell.

He watched as the log disappeared around a bend further up river, then rubbed his rumbling belly and turned to head back home; his family would be expecting him. The sight of the large, black-feathered bird perched where he squatted only moments before caught the elf by surprise, and he took a step back, reaching for the sword that he had left in his bedchambers earlier in the day, his hand grasping cold air. Elinial cursed to himself and the raven tilted its feathered head to the left and then the right, seeming to eye him with curiosity. He waved his hand towards the bird in a dismissive fashion, then continued past and through the field, the raven giving a loud 'caw' as he did.

The bird continued to squawk and caw as he got further away, yet Elinial ignored it, sweeping a pale hand over the blackened weeds as he walked. Then he stopped in his tracks as several more bird calls joined the first, and he shook his head. Elinial slowly turned his wrinkled form, his eyes growing wide as he did. Slowly he lifted the mask, revealing the aged and hollow face of the ancient elf beneath. Easily twenty ravens now perched on the blackened wood of the broken down fence, or hopped about on the ground nearby, most of them eyeing him with cocked heads.

"My Queen?" he whispered, unable to believe that he would be chosen for her task. Then as one the ravens flew up and towards Elinial, circling around him like a feathered tornado of black, their calls deafening and commanding. Elinial dropped to his knees as whispered words and memories of a far off land entered his thoughts. These were Her commands.

*****

Three days later, if one could measure days in a sunless sky, a lone figure knelt in the darkness at the edge of an old graveyard. The veil between the worlds was thinnest at night and in places of gloom and shadow, though the portal through which he had stepped would be gone with the dawning of a new day; he had not yet been shown the road back home.

Elinial rubbed a pale hand over his youthful chin, then back through his dark hair. A slight smile had crept upon his thin lips as he did, he relished the life he felt coursing through his young, strong form in these lands and though he had been prepared and expected the transformation, it still filled him with awe. His body, while withered and bent with age in the lands of his people, was youthful and strong when away from the life draining energies of the Shadowfell.

Elinial lifted his pale blue eyes to the early morning sky now, taking in the last remaining stars and the few wispy clouds that floated by. They were strange to him, these lights in the sky, though they were somewhat reminiscent of the will o'wisps and meandering souls that dotted his sky back home. He sat down near a tall gravestone, leaning back and watched as the sun slowly rose over the horizon. It was pretty he thought, though very, very bright and after a few minutes, as the sun finally crested the ridge, Elinial pulled his hood up and down over his eyes to shade them from the morning light; it was something he would get acclimated to, with time, but for now he could not suffer the brightness of this world without discomfort.

Elinial stood and brushed the dew and grass from his grey breaches. He tossed his pack over one shoulder then casually wrapped long, pale fingers around the tattered scabbard of his greatsword before he heading off towards Elturel and the current subject of his Queen's attention, absent-mindedly humming an ancient elvish tune as he moved down the trail.

Last edited by Night of Blood; 07-10-2020 at 02:25 AM.
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Old 07-07-2020, 09:30 PM
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What Better than an Angel for a trip to Hell
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Name: Rhanesaum

Race: Aasimar

Alignment: NG

Class: Cleric - Arcana Domain

Background: Faction Agent - Harper

Appearance: Rhane has Red to Auburn hair, stands 5'10" tall with green eyes and a voluptuous build. Over this comely figure she wears Scale mail armor with shield and mace in the colors and adornments of Mystra.

Personality: Rhane believes the God's are actively bringing about change in the Realms, hers especially, and she is an active agent of that change. She can be downright stubborn when she sets her mind to something and it is hard to get her mind off of it. She's always quick with a smile, and devoted and friendly to those who are like allied. Due to her training and upbringing, she is used to the finer things of her order. She's enjoyed fine food, drink, and high society among my temples elite. Rough living grates on her, and though she can put up with it, she'd really rather not.

Backstory Idea: Baldur's Gate is her home, and she's been raised in the Temple elite from a young age to be a DweomerKeeper of Mystra when the time is right. She leads a dual purpose as she's been recruited and accepted by "Those who Harp." As such, she is highly trained in the ways of the Weave for one so young. It is thought that her race - which few are aware of as she looks quite human - her faith, and allegiance to the Harpers make her the perfect candidate to go forth and make a stand for Baldur's Gate; preventing it from meeting the same fate as Elturel.

Trait: I've enjoyed fine food, drink, and high society among my temples elite. Rough living grates on me.

Ideal: We must help bring about the changes the gods are constantly working in the world.

Bond: I would die to recover an ancient relic of my faith that was lost long ago, but that ain't exactly plan A.

Flaw: Once I pick a goal, I become obsessed with it to the detriment of everything else in my life.

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Posting Status: Meh... Normal.

Last edited by Drachenspirit; 07-07-2020 at 09:48 PM.
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Old 07-08-2020, 07:22 AM
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Abaddon
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Abaddon
Name: Abaddon
Race: Tiefling, descendant of Zariel
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Class: Paladin of Tempus, Oath of Conquest
Background: Urban Bounty Hunter

Appearance: Abaddon is a tiefling, wicked horns curl back from his brow, while his skin is a pallid lacking the fiery tones usually associated with his kind. His physique is muscular and scarred, both aspects earned from long years as a mercenary, sell-sword and bounty hunter.

Personality: Abbadon is stoic, martial and lawful. Whether inherited from his progenitor Zariel or from his tutelage raised as a war orphan in the temple of the war god Tempus, he revels in battle and desires it. Abbadon enjoys levity and has a dry and dark sense of humor adopted from his mercenary companions. He tends to judge others by their martial skill and courage and despises weakness and cowardice.

Backstory Idea:
Abbadon was a peasant child orphaned by a war and brought south from a forgotten homeland by priests of Tempus. He was raised by devotees of the Lord of Battles at the orphanage-temple for survivors of war. He remembers little of his life before the Temple, only ghostly memories of roasted meats over an open fire, mulberries picked from frosty bushes, a mother's face and father's voice, glimpses of a forgotten life that haunted his childhood dreams.

These memories faded over the years as the boy became a man, and the victim of war became an instrument of it. In the physical arts of war he excelled but he often strained against the rigid philosophies of his temple elites. Thus he pursued a path frowned upon by many seeking out conflict not in honourable battle amongst brothers at arms but he sold himself as a enforcer, a bounty hunter and a common sellsword.

Last edited by Zinrokh; 07-14-2020 at 05:43 AM.
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Old 07-08-2020, 10:00 AM
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Cora Grorx
 

Name: Cora Grorx
Race: Halfling (Ghostwise Halfling)
Alignment: Lawful Good
Class: Cleric (Arcana)
Background: Slave

Appearance: Cora is small and skinny, almost to the point of being malnourished. She wears light-brown garb adorned with a blue-white star, mostly hidden beneath an enormous cloak that drowns her small frame. She has large hazel eyes, short auburn hair and a radiant dimpled smile, although her eyes can betray the scars of her life. She hides her flesh at all times, conscious of the many scars on her skin that she bears. She always wears half-gloves for a similar reason. She is by no means dainty in her posture or movement, walking with a goblin-like stride with swinging disproportionate limbs.

Personality: Cora has embraced life and Magic, attempting to rediscovered her halfling heritage, lost to her in years of complicated relationships with her captors, while standing as a champion to Mystra and Magic. She is not the smartest halfling, but has unbound optimism and enthusiasm for all things. She can be naive at times with a limited view of the world, and often child-like in her approach to problems. But, above all things she is devoted to the magic forces of the world, having been reborn by achieving her freedom.

Cora brings with her a versatility in raw power, magic and healing, as well as enthusiasm and optimism for life. She's tenacious in battle, with feral spirit and almost fearless. She is motivated and willing to try all things, although she doesn't always make the best decisions. She has a keen sense of danger and is a good judge of character.

Cora is slow to trust so she would hope to build relationships through role-playing that could be akin to family for her. She abhors brutality and unnecessary conflict, quietly enforces an order of balance and strives to always get along with all people. Her relationship to goblins, though, remains complicated.

Backstory Idea: The little halfling girl heaved the heavy wooden beam away from the jungle of collapsed wood and stone. Her face was ashen, her eyes stung red with smoke and fire. She strained and grunted, as a single tear swept down the darkness on her face. Stumbling after finally dislodging the beam, she grunted to her feet, taking deep breaths of panic. "I need to find Mamma," she said quietly as she once more approached the fiery building. She reached the precipice when she noticed the lone goblin watching her with interest. The skin was sleek with sweat and grime, the body covered the torturous hides of armor, the claw holding a blackened blade. She stared at it in shock for a moment, before defiance uttered, "I need to find Mamma."

"Come me," the goblin said in broken common, gesturing with the blade for the little girl to follow. The halfling eyed him carefully, but again found a spirit of defiance. "No," she said, trembling, "I need to find Mamma." She took a deep breath and, ignoring the goblin, continued to dig through the fiery rubble. The goblin paused for a moment, before raising its voice, "We help. We find. Come me. I, Grorx. I help." Cora looked up again and paused. "You help?" she queried. "You help find Mamma?" The goblin nodded. "Come me. Grorx help." It turned around and started to walk away, motioning for the halfling to follow. Finally losing all strength and giving in to the moment, she stumbled after Grorx, tears streaming down her face. "I come," she sobbed, knowing that her life had just changed forever.

Cora spent the majority of her young life a captive slave to goblins. Her life has been brutal, but at times blessed by unexpected kindness. Having essentially been raised by goblins, she can be quite feral and quick to anger, although she tries hard to suppress her years in slavery and rise above her baser compulsions. She speaks fluent Goblin, and any outbursts of emotion are often peppered with vigorous Goblin speech. She is slow to trust, and, even though she knows her master Grorx lied to her about helping her mother, she still believes she has the opportunity of reuniting with her family. She carries with her at all times a brooch, gifted to her by her master, said to have been owned by her mother.

Her fortunes changed unexpectedly when, in a manner unknown to her, the majority of her captors disappeared, presumably slain. The remaining members of the tribe, perhaps in uncharacteristic kindness or compelled practicality, abandoned her to her own devices when they fled. Hungry, broken and scarred she wandered the wilderness before stumbling upon an ancient shrine. Buried under thick vines interlaced with white flowers, the shrine bore markings of a nature Cora had never seen before. Overcome by her predicament, she collapsed at the base of the shrine to fall into fitful slumber.

In the weeks to come Cora remained near the shrine, foraging to regain some semblance of strength. At times she would trace the shrine's marking with her fingers, wistfully wondering about their meaning, but feeling some sense of peace while near the shrine under the starry skies. Never one to believe much in the gods, this place bore a more holy power. In some strange way, the shrine was breaking up her inherent darkness, and reviving her from the ordeal of bondage. She gained much clarity when on an evening with filtered moonlight and flickering stars, she was awoken by a voice in her mind, which turned out to be more than Cora would ever have imagined.
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  #11  
Old 07-08-2020, 03:45 PM
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Name: Simon
Race: Human
Alignment: Lawful Good
Class: Ranger
Background: Mason
Appearance: Simon stands 5’ 11” inches tall and weighs 175 pounds. Years of working with stone has made him fairly strong, but his thin build can disguise that strength. He has shoulder length blonde hair, blue eyes, and dark skin from spending most of his life working in the sun.
Personality: Simon has always been outgoing and friendly, always greeting his neighbors with a smile and a kind word. Recent events have made him more morose, but one he processes his grief he will probably return to his pleasant self.
Backstory

Simon grew up in a decent size village on the edge of a forest and near a quarry. His father was a mason, so he always had work and his family prospered. Simon was drawn to working with stone and when he turned 12 his father began to teach him the trade. It was hard work but Simon enjoyed working with his father and he loved being able to look at a large stone and see the shape it needed to be and being able to coax that shape out of it. When he was 14 he helped his father build them a new house out of stone and he was incredibly proud of that, especially because it was one of only a few stone building in the village.

On occasion their village was visited by Simon’s uncle Stefan, who was a Ranger who roamed the forest keeping the forces of evil at bay. As much as Simon loved working with his father he idolized his uncle. Stefan would tell the villages tales of his adventures, which always made him seem larger than life. Not surprisingly, Simon wanted to be just like his uncle. When he was 16 his uncle agreed to teach him the skills he had learned. His parents weren’t too happy with that at first, but they knew forbidding it would only make Simon want to learn more and that Stefan would do everything in his power to keep Simon safe. Since his uncle’s duties kept him away for long periods of time Simon’s training took place over many years. He knew he would have limited time with his uncle, so Simon made sure to immerse himself in his lessons whenever they happened. He learned how to track animals and people, move quickly and quietly through the landscape, and how to survive off the land. His uncle also taught him how to shoot a longbow and how to fight. Stefan preferred to use a pair of short swords and Simon was drawn to that style of fighting, but he found he liked using a pair of hand axes better.

When Simon turned 21 his uncle told him he was ready to become a full fledged Ranger and to celebrate his gave Simon a set of green studded leather armor, a longbow and arrows, and a new pair of hand axes. Then they went into the forest for several weeks together with Stefan letting Simon take the lead. After a couple of weeks they came across evidence of a large force of Orcs that had passed by several days earlier and, unfortunately, they were headed for Simon’s village. He and his uncle raced home as quickly as they could, but they were too late. By the time they arrived the village had been attacked and the main body of Orcs had already headed off with their spoils. There was only a rearguard left when Simon and his uncle arrived and the two of them attacked. They fired arrows into the enemy until the Orcs charged, then they had no choice but to draw their weapons and engage in melee. Simon managed to hold his own, but Stefan was a sight to behold, cutting a bloody swath through the Orcs. The Orc commander quickly determined that Stefan was the biggest threat and he and his bodyguards attacked him. Simon lost track of his uncle while he was fighting for his life, but when he managed to drop his final enemy he saw that his uncle and the rest of the Orcs were also dead. Simon carried his uncle back to his house, where he found his parents’ bodies. Over the next few weeks Simon used stones from his family home to build a mausoleum where he laid his parents and uncle to rest. With no family left and the memory of his dead parents overwhelming his fond memories of growing up, Simon took his father’s mason tools and left to find a new purpose.
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  #12  
Old 07-08-2020, 04:08 PM
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Name: Chettig (KET-tig)
Race: Lightfoot Halfling
Alignment: NG
Class: Rogue/Thief
Background: Sailor

Appearance: A bit under average height and weight for a halfling, Chettig is slight, but obviously light on his feet and has a wiry frame hardened by a decade at sea, his skin darkened by the same. His hair is of medium length, coarse, thick, light brown, and perpetually tousled. His eyes match his hair in color. He attires himself as a sailor, including a brown leather officer’s overcoat. He carries a dagger in his belt and shortsword on his hip. His expression is usually as light and sprightly as his step, and almost always cheerfully curious.

Personality: Chettig is easy-going and unassuming, thinking the best of anyone he meets until they give him a reason to do otherwise. He loves to be busy and is always eager to get a job done. He’s also easily bored, so when there is little to be done he’s quick to find...alternate pursuits to keep himself occupied and to keep things interesting.

Trait: It's hard for Chettig to make friends due to his mischievous nature, but he is fiercely loyal to those who take to him.
Ideal: Family; wherever one may be found.
Bond: Chettig dreams of one day reuniting with his family.
Flaw: The Devil finds work for idle hands.

Backstory Idea:The illegitimate son of a minor Elturelian house’s heir, Chettig was known for his mischievousness from the time he could crawl. Though his doting mother and smitten father did their best to keep him and his ever-greater misdeeds in check or under wraps, eventually they caught up to him. He found himself expelled from the household at the tender age of ten, sold into service on the Chionthar riverboats.

Bewildered, bitter and lost, he made no friends as a deckhand, but quickly gained a reputation for his ability to make acquisitions from, then at the behest of his peers and soon after, certain superiors. By his teens, he had developed the use of his abilities to his own and his crewmates’ entertainment among the former, and for profit with the latter. One such superior, a Half-Elf named Orthing, took a particular liking to Chettig, finding a kindred spirit in his restless rebelliousness beneath an outward desire to please. Orthing took Chettig under his wing and the two became inseparable as both friends and partners.

Their friendship, careers and exploits grew in parallel until they found themselves first and second mates on a proper sea-going trading vessel, under a captain with a similar mind for their “enterprise.” Unfortunately, this favorable arrangement was cut short by the captain’s untimely illness and death. His replacement was of a far more honorable disposition, flatly forbidding any smuggling under his command. When Orthing and Chettig regardlessly attempted to continue with the tacit support of the crew, they were ratted out and called before the Mast.

Orthing took the fall for Chettig, condemning himself to indentured service with the captain’s family in Sembia. Chettig himself was relieved of his station and replaced by the rat as second mate, effectively forcing him off of the crew. He sought opportunities on other ships for a short time, but service with each new command only sharpened the loss of his best friend and sole companion until he knew he could sail no more. He considered traveling to Sembia and attempting to free Orthing, but quickly dismissed the fantasy as just that as soon as he learned of its seemingly impenetrable lawfulness.

Again finding himself lost and friendless, Chettig wandered slowly, unconsciously, but surely back towards Elturel. Perhaps he fostered hope of reunification with his mother; surely his father would reject him in favor of the now legitimate children he must have…

He realized where his feet were taking him and began these musings on why that would be the very day he heard the horrible news of Elturel’s fate...

Last edited by Baxder; 07-10-2020 at 04:51 PM.
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  #13  
Old 07-08-2020, 06:10 PM
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Name: Strummer
Race: Half Elf
Alignment: N
Class: Bard, College of Lore
Background: Criminal

Personality: ambitious, hard working, always striving, observant, patient gambler
Backstory Idea: Strummer was born 18 years ago and given the name Porphyre. Her family lived in what was considered the best part of Norchapel in the Outer District of Baldur's Gate. Even though they lived on a "better" street, Norchapel was still considered one of the slum neighborhoods of Baldur's Gate. Both her parents worked hard - but worked hard at the sort of jobs that don't really get you into the middle class. Her mother did sewing and washing and her father was a delivery man with a cart he pushed by hand. Very early in life, Porphyre helped with picking up and delivering her mother's washed, folded, and mended clothes. To do this she crossed into another Outer District called Little Calimsham. She thought this a very fine place. It had a wall around it and some temples and a fountain even....and some of the merchant families for which her mother washed linens even had a family guard! She continued to pick up and deliver for her mother even when she got her own job washing dishes at a tavern at age 10. She earned almost 3 coppers a week stopping in and scrubbing pots. She turned some of her wages over to her family, and was able to keep some for herself. She also liked to listen to the music coming out of the tavern performers. She started going to different taverns that stayed open later - offering to help with the dishes at the end of the night if they would just let her lean against a wall - out of the way like - and watch the performer. She stared at the hands of the performers and mimicked them on a ghost instrument later. She was sure she could make those beautiful sounds too - it didn't look that hard at all. She could hear each note in her head and knew if she could just get her hands on an instrument she could figure out how to recreate those notes. She saved her share the wages for two years and then bought a badly banged up cittern. Citterns had four strings and were known to add spice to peasant music. She thought them very fine things at that time. Her parents thought her daft to buy something that for all of them was so expensive and so obviously second, third or fourth hand and obviously damaged. But, it still plucked and made proper noise and that was all Porphyre needed it to do. She knew all the notes and words to songs already from years of standing to watch singers. She practiced a couple of the crowd favorite songs and then made a deal to wash dishes for free if they would just let her play to the lunch crowd. She was decent at the instrument and had a sweet voice. That became a regular lunchtime job and tips were good - like a copper a day and a free meal too. Good enough that she started to dream about working in the evening and make enough to buy a lute. Lute's had a better sound, but they were about 40 gold. It would take her a few thousand days of saving up even with doing extra jobs like going back to do dishes too. However, she couldn't get an evening gig at the better taverns in the Outer District - she was constantly told she was just a kid and that they had all the musicians they needed - established like. She had to play in the real dives at first, to get the evening gigs, in fairly pathetic Outer wall districts like Stonyeyes and Sow's Foot. She had two very busy years - running around delivering and picking up for her mother, playing music at lunch in Little Calimhsam, playing music at dinner in dangerous Sow's Foot. She was earning maybe 10 coppers a week even after contributing to the household expenses, which was exciting to save up at three times the rate of before....but after a couple years she she still hadn't saved up quite enough to buy a proper lute. She figured once she got the lute she would get the better gigs. She was almost there - almost at a place where she could really try to reach her goal.

Then, somehow and someway, a musician who was supposed to play for a fancy in an Upper City party got sick and she was asked to come last minute and take his place. She was known well enough by other musicians at this point. She had never really been to this part of Baldur's Gate before and as she walked through it she felt like she was on another planet completely - when she looked around at the grand houses and neat streets she was overwhelmed. Everything was special and beautiful. They had flower pots hanging from poles along the street! The air breathed easier even. The people were very fine. It almost felt like it was a magic world where everything and everyone was clean and good. Like someone had waved a wand and made just living better. She was wearing the wrong clothes, by that I mean she was wearing her only set of old (but clean and well mended) clothes, but someone in the ensemble helped her by loaning her a simple black dress and a hair net to fancy up her long (never cut) hair. She was instructed to sit in such as way, and to place a basket, as to hide her feet from view by the employer and his guests. Her shoes had holes in them and nobody had a pair to lend. Then a big bouquet of flowers was placed so as to block the view of her battered instrument. All that night she played she studied these new people from behind her bouquet veil - these rich people having a party and then dinner and then dessert and then more party. She played her cittern as a background instrument to support the other musicians and strummed along and watched them all for hours. She was embarrassed by her shoes and her staring later - after the shock had worn off and after she had time to think and relive the night in her memories and process how very, very poor she actually was. She was shocked to realized how naive she was thinking she and her family were just normal people doing better than most - how she hadn't realized that the people in the Upper City would see her "better" part of Norchapel as much the same as Stonyeyes and Sow's Foot. They might even think that the best of all the outer districts, Little Calimsham, where she had dreamt to play in the taverns in the evenings, and was working so hard to be able to play there, was a....slum.

That gig changed all her goals. It set them much higher than just wanting to play in the evening to the dinner crowd at the tavern in Little Calimsham where she used to work as a dishwasher. She set her sights on access to the Upper City. To do that, first she had to start to fit in better. She had to change some essentials about herself so it seemed like she belonged there too.

She was always a terrific mimic. She had noticed how different the body language and the posture and the rhythm of language and the eye contact was amongst the nobles and all the rituals they did on greeting and dining. They even used their spoons different - that was something she'd noticed right away from that party. Like they swept the soup away then lifted it to their lips rather than like a shovel. And, they ate so slow. In fact, the pace they did things was leisurely. They were not in a rush. She was always so busy - she was used to rushing. She had to learn to slow down. She had to practice moving with care and a kind of slow precision, rather than grabby efficiency. She knew there were lots of new rules to how people interacted that she would be expected to know and so she needed to learn them somehow. She went for walks through the Upper District with her mother's baskets loaded with outer district linens, lying to the guards about picking up and delivering the fancy house's washing. During those walks she spied on the noble classes and their servants from their own streets, those coming and going from carriages and shops or out taking a walk for the fresh air, and started practicing how to sit and stand and bow and walk and do a mysterious smile rather than a big tooth smile ...and tilt her head with one small nod to agree just like a fancy lady would rather than yell, "Yeah! Me too!". She practiced holding herself differently, more upright and her arms more relaxed rather than hands in fists set on her hips.

She offered to wash dishes so she could lean against a wall out of everyone's way and listen again - but this time at fine established taverns that looked almost like mansions like the Helm and Cloak at the heart of the Upper City.

Porphyre started working very hard to learn more instruments and on her voice. She leaned against the wall and watched the best performers in the city - and those were her new lessons. She started hearing new songs and realized that this new level of musicians were creating new music as well as playing old favorites. She started trying to write her own songs and liked what she had made after she got the hang of it. She shopped for a new lute often, hoping to find one at a bargain price somehow. But, beyond the hard work and extra effort that she was comfortable doing, she needed material things that seemed beyond her reach...like the clothes and the shoes. So, she got creative and was always on the lookout for opportunities to make some coin. The first time she stole something, it was a bucket. People line up their buckets at the well and then go off an do some market square shopping. There was one very fine bucket, with a wide rope and canvas strap, and she just walked a little closer to the well as she was crossing through and scooped it up. She knew exactly who would want this bucket from her father's delivery business list of clients. She sold it for a copper - what she used to make after a two days of scrubbing pots. She started very small with the stealing. A fish off the block of ice or a length of rope next to a boat down by the docks or a horse bridle on a horse tied up in an alley where no one was looking - but she was always doing a little stealing where she could and those little extra coppers started to add up. She did a little shoplifting if it was obvious she was going to succeed. She did a little pickpocketing, but only on the newcomers to town who were already far out of their comfort zone and who wouldn't even know where to begin to report the crime once it was discovered. She kept the stealing very much under control, done only in the perfect opportunity, so that she would never be caught. She has made a connection to a guy - he's in an outer district thieves guild - and sometimes she does a favor or takes a look for a job and in return he buys some of the odds and ends she brings in. Like a silver perfume vial to fine to fool mom and dad if they discover it on her...or just one fancy shoe. The guild'll find the other shoe or a person with just one leg to sell it to she supposes.

She lied to her parents and said all new income were earnings. She bought that new lute. Finally. It's very fine. She loves it dearly. She learned to play it well fairly quickly. It was not all that different from the Cittern. She bought couple bolts of fine cloth. Then a very small amount of expensive cloth, a bit of fur, lace, some trimmings and she and her mother worked on turning out an outfit that looked very expensive and modern and a bit edgy. She bought a fine pair of soft leather boots. They trimmed those to match her outfit. She cut her own hair to make herself look much different than those from the outer districts - a modern haircut and then some - and styled it with an extreme part. She's made herself a new look with the haircut and the clothes - each decision she pretended she was a star performer with a unique sense of style and if so what would that person decide. She can't afford the upper city fashions, so she has to create her own. For now. What she wants to see in the reflection glass is a trendsetter, she doesn't always to look like someone trying to catch up to others, but to be someone a step ahead. It's a workaround best she could think of. And, she decided the name Porphyre had to go. Porphyre was not a star's name.

Porphyre changed her name to Strummer. She started playing at festivals and events and fancy taverns in the upper district regularly. Well. She is still the player who's in the side room, or on the porch, not the "main" entertainer for the evening. She's background noise, not the main show. She's getting paid in silver now. And, though the gigs are fancy and the silver is nice....she is not being directly hired to play at the very, very best places just yet. So, she has set some new goals even within the Upper City.

Strummer has slowly gained in respect and admiration as a young, fresh, new musician by other upper district musicians. She has her own gigs and has now and again been asked to accompany other performing groups when they've gotten invited to perform at the very, very best venues and noble's houses. She's got her foot wedged firmly in the door. And, she knows this is just the start of the next chapter because she knows how to work her way up like nobody's business. Strummer has worked as hard as anyone else over the last 8 years. She's proud of what she's accomplished, but she isn't satisfied. Not by a long, long way.

She now really wants to be THE main established main talent in all of Baldur's Gate. She wants to pick and choose her gigs and she wants others to ask to play support for her, not for others to ask her to play support for them. She knows that hard work got her far, but it's talent that can get her farther. If she were only a little more naturally talented with singing. She's got great range, but there are some notes that are still hard to hit so she has to work around them. What she would do to be able to hit those notes. It's not only talent - that could get her farther. It's access to the best instruments. She's got her eye on some very fine new instruments. There's a Mandolin that's been imported that has a new sound....and a Doss Lute that's a master crafted instrument that she's sampled. These would elevate her playing no doubt. What she would do to be able to afford any and all the instruments available. It's not only talent and instruments that can get her farther, it's the way a bard looks. Especially female bards. She's been called cute or a pretty young girl. She wants more than that - she wants to be seen as a glamourous, striking woman who turns heads. She needs the kind of looks to be able to draw people to her, that make her unforgettable to them, that make them want to see her again and again. She wants her hair to either be shades darker or shades lighter - it's far too mousey brown. She likes her eyes - she knows her eyes have a beautiful shape and are large and expressive. But, it would be better if they were bright green or sapphire blue or even rare purple rather than this odd shade of reddish brown. She isn't as happy with the rest of her face. Especially her ears - they pop out like a puppy's ears. She prefers the elf ears that go straight up. She's considered trimming them somehow, but she's afraid she'll mutilate herself instead. She also wants to get rid of her baby cheeks and rounded jaw - people say she looks like a sweetheart, like a cherub, like a doll, but she doesn't take those as compliments. She doesn't want to be cute. She wants to be show-stopping gorgeous and glamorous. What she would do for the perfect beauty, that she longs to see when she looks at herself, with delicate upright ears and the cheekbones and eye colors of her imagination.

Last edited by cappucina; 07-12-2020 at 01:38 PM.
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  #14  
Old 07-08-2020, 10:26 PM
GoombaJosh GoombaJosh is offline
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Oh, going to Avernus I see, don't mind me. Just putting a placeholder over here

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Name: "Detective" Rowan Saturn
Race: Human (Variant)
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Class: Rogue
Possible Subclass: Inquisitive
Background: Noble
Traits: Despite my noble birth, I do not place myself above other folk. We all have the same blood. If you do me an injury, I will crush you, ruin your name, and salt your fields.
Ideal: Family. Blood runs thicker than water. (Any)
Bond: The common folk must see me as a hero of the people.
Flaw: In fact, the world does revolve around me.
Appearance: Rowan is a youthful looking man that's somewhere in his 30's and is of average height, standing 5'8" inches tall and weighs 170 lbs. His eyes are brown and hair is a slick black but theirs an air of nobility around him that would be out of place with the good and honest working man. Rowan is usually wearing a black uniform trench coat, to cover the leather armor that he don on for protection, and he also wears fine clothing that's fit for a noble on days off and parties.
Personality: "Detective" Rowan Saturn is a generous, sociable, and an all around great guy, at least that's what he thinks of himself. What he really is to most people Rowan meets is self centered, quick to anger, and likes to exaggerate about his exploits and "cases". He also claims to be a Detective despite not having any authority to be in a crime scene or any badge to indicate that he is, but his surprisingly intelligent and has an eye for clues and evidence. However despite his flaws, Rowan is a good person at heart and has a personal vendetta against crime and the Thieves Guild in general.
Backstory Idea: Rowan Saturn is the son of a noble family in Baldur's Gate. The Saturn family were merchants but then over the years they suddenly gain a tremendous amount of wealth, and were accepted into nobility. Rowan lived a life of luxury and he would be treated as the world revolved around him. However one day tragedy struck as Rowan's parents were found dead, their throats slit and cut cleanly by the sharpest daggers, and Rowan was the only witness. He was found peeking through the door and to this day, he couldn't remember what truly transpired due to the trauma of seeing his parents murdered before his eyes, but he remembered the face of the murderer as he left through the window and vowed to find him. When his parents died, Rowan inherited his families fortune and he spent a large sum of it on information and bought several books in investigations. He learned several techniques and a sum of information in a young age that it was not long that he realized he wasn't getting enough info by using his current resources, so he left Saturn Estate and disguised himself as a self-proclaimed world renown detective among the common folk. Most people just humor him or just ignored him, some would just beat him down and he would retaliate which caused a lot of incidents and trouble for the city guards.

He wasn't really going anywhere with his investigation, that is until he had an idea that in order to find a criminal, he needs to think and be a criminal. So he asked urchins in the streets and cutthroats in back alleys and for a couple of years, he integrated himself into the Thieves Guild were he learned how to steal, speak their language, and learn how to use a dagger. All this was to find one man, but it didn't really help until he met the Guildmaster who was that very person he was looking for. Rowan didn't know that he was such an elusive target, worse, he was working with him the entire time. So he decided to take a risk, he change into his detective persona and revealed one of the Guild's crime ring to the public, putting a blow to the Guild and blacklisting "Detective" Saturn. Rowan was showered in praise which boosted his ego tremendously, but he knew that he would be hunted down by unseen shadows and has to be cautious for the rest of his life, however that worry was completely overshadowed by praise and his own ego. He then thought, why not become a hero to the people and take down the Thieve's Guild himself. So he decided to do just that and promised to dismantle the guild and prove the people that he was the greatest detective in history.


Last edited by GoombaJosh; 07-09-2020 at 10:11 PM.
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  #15  
Old 07-08-2020, 11:36 PM
Night of Blood Night of Blood is offline
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Alright I updated my original post. I may tweak some wording here or there but for the most part I believe Elinial Darkwater is done.
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