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Old 09-19-2019, 08:38 PM
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Game NameCrowngate
Game SystemDnD 5e
ThemeRescue the Town
FlavourOld old fashion romp
Plot Summary

Cut off is now October 6th

Story & Current SituationThe Kingdom of Udinthau broke under the internal strife brought about by the Order of the Black Rose. Although the order failed to take control of the Dwarven kingdom which stood for more than 300 years they were responsible for destabilizing the entire region. Without the Dwarven Legionnaires and those upright and good nobles now too weak to enforce the peace currently lesser noble nobility or even rich landowners have been jostling for power in their local area. Either greed, ambition or simply a desperate fight to hold onto what was theirs. Dozens upon Dozens of small wars have broken out, old regional boundaries hold no effect. The evil once banished have re-established themselves along with new forces of evil. Those nobles not fighting for land or wealth are trying to sure up defences against the new threats against their lands and people. Many nobles or those of means are trying to call together as many soldiers as possible to help defend or expand their lands.

Travelling Heroes is one of the nicer names you’ve been called. You’ve been together for about four months through which you’ve guarded caravans, holdings and even fought in pitched warfare for Count Fogthorn against a war lord. Previous to the time now known as the Chaos you volunteered and fought against the Order of the Black Rose whose armies and political meddling fractured the Udinthau kingdom and left it in the worst state it has been for centuries. Your troop have made camp in Churwood Forest to the Nor-West of Crowngate. You didn’t plan to be here this is simply where your last job finished, in the middle of Churwood forest, strange but you got paid so no one complained. Your tents have been pitched and everyone has been relaxing for a couple of days enjoying the game and berries that the forest has provided for you.

Enjoying your spot in the forest you’ve been in no hurry to move. Venturing into town on the odd occasion you’ve let people know you are about and looking for work. With the number of merchants who travel through Crowngate you figured work wouldn’t be too far away. What you didn’t expect was that on the same night you’d received to requests for employment. First a messenger from Count Bowser requesting your help to assist him with an urgent business that pertained to the saving of innocent lives. The messenger was light on details to the point that you were fairly certain that he didn’t know anything. All you knew was that Count Bowser was expecting you before mid-day tomorrow which would mean you’d need to leave soon and travel through the night. Before you were able to pack up your tents two Braids from Countess Kerrigan arrived with an urgent message requesting your assistance to oust a force of evil which had rared its ugly head in the last 48 hours

What you know about your perspective employersCount Bowser:
An old human man who lost his wife to the Order of the Black Rose. He fought the Black Rose constructs where ever they stood. You know that he wasn’t loyal to the old King or even the Black Rose’s pretender. He holds a fort to the Nor-West of the Churwood forests, your current home. He has been able to hold onto most of his lands in the Chaos.
He has no heirs, they died in the wars against the Order of the Black Rose.

Countess Kerrigan:
Her Dwarven husband was loyal to old King but he was also a coward. The Kerrigan soldiers were very late to the war and even housed a contingent of the Black Rose Constructs until the Count died. Rumour has it that his wife Countess Kerrigan grew so ashamed of his cowardice that she poisoned him then orchestrated the irradiation of the Black Rose constructs garrisoned in their town. The Countess holds less land but more soldiers than Count Bowser which means that all in Crowngate expect her to march on Count Bowser but as yet has not made a move.
She is the second wife of the old count and has yet to bare any heirs though she has two step-children.

Game infoGame info
I am looking for 6 – 10 players who can post at least twice a week, preferably once a day. Twice a week gives me plenty of time to work on a DM post moving the plot forward or into the next round of combat, but I am able to post multiple times a day to answer questions, interact with NPCs or to let you know if someone fell into a pit trap.

I’ve been on this site for a while now and am back after a hiatus due to my third child being born. This is not my first Time DMing. Last game I ran lasted for over a year.

What I’m looking for:
* Roughly 3 players who will drive forward the plot, who have character goals and desires that they want to achieve. Without players like this a sandbox game drives to a halt when all the players start asking What next? Someone should answer that, and it should barely be me the DM. These are the players I want a serious application from and a daily post rate at least Monday to Friday. You will build the core of the party. You’ll be the ones who’ll be pushing your agender when a job ends and driving the plot in a sandbox game.
* I’m looking for players who can role play, who have enough initiative to have a conversation between themselves. Though I said I want to post twice a week it is play by post and I love it when players role play a conversation for a week or two. Much longer than that and I’ll move it on
* I want players and characters who can work together. Characters with opposing world views are interesting until they start arguing all the time. I’ve only had two players ever be able to handle the constant banter, friends out-site the site who had a very active OOC.
* Players who want to build a community feel within the game which means being active in the OOC threads. Daily post rate doesn’t just need to include the game thread.

Character info:
Starting at Level 3. Point buy not roll. Yes, you can use the standard stat array.
Equipment: You are buying it. Your get $300gp + 1x uncommon magic item.

Race: Monstrous races will find life difficult outside of the party. Dwarves and Humans are the most common & due to political manoeuvring due the Order of the Black Rose Halflings will be viewed with distrust. Warforged are acceptable but these are the soldiers of the Black Rose and will be attacked by almost everyone, you’ll not last long.
Any questions please feel free to ask.
Class: I’m excepting anything from all published sources. Let’s get wild here… however love the classic fighter or wizard. Note: Warlocks, clerics and paladins are common as new gods try to establish for themselves followers.
Role Play Sample: Something new from your character. Give us an idea of how you’ll write a post.
Background: You get the items from your background, just not starting equipment (see above)
Backstory / History: How your character got to this point outside Crowngate
Ideal, Bond & Flaw: Please use the tables as a point of reference I normally find these very bland. Ad some flare with customization
Deity: Yes, I expect your character to have a god/ess or gods which they at least pray to and acknowledge. A personal hatred of mine is atheistic characters in a fantasy setting where the gods literary and regularly interact with mortals and bestow upon them gifts and boons. A game where your character would have likely been healed by a cleric at some point. However if you wish to be angry at a particular god for some reason, this I will accept.
As a point of note the gods both old and those powerful beings wanting to raise to godhood were instrumental in the thwarting of the Order of the Black Rose, there are more clerics and paladins in the world than there has been for along time.

On that note: This is a custom setting so bonus points to anyone who comes up with a god/ess for their character.
RP Sample: How did they recruit you as a devotee?

HistoryNo one knew what was coming. The King died of some alien unknown disease. The prince lost his life in the underworld looking for a cure. The king's brother took to the throne and with him came a new order of knights known as the Order of the Black Rose. At first most were happy to have a valiant order of knights about the kingdom of Udinthau but after a few weeks accusations started to come out that the late king was murdered and that many of the powerful nobles were imprisoned for regicide. New nobility took over, those who pledged loyalty to soon to be crowned brother of the king.

What many don’t know is that a rebellion started in a town named Caramvek in the North from which came a group of heroes who stood up to the knights of the Black Rose. They then discovered a company of Black Rose constructs hidden under the city of Dalhurst. Though the constructs held Dalhurst for a while because the heroes forced their hand the Order of the Black Rose was pushed out. Whereever the heroes went rebellion sprung in their wake. As they traveled the Kingdom the Black Rose were fforced to reveal that they already had constructs in every strategic location. Even in the East a strange alliance between Drow, the Black Rose and The Halfling principality drew the Udinthau army to a brutal stalemate in the Krakole Pass.

Things looked bleak until the gods, both old and new, began to interfere more directly. Lost sorcerer lines were re-opened, Clerics and Paladins sprouted up and magical patrons dispensed boon of power to those willing to serve a new master. Finally the people had a fighting chance and so they did. Our heroes kept on pressing until they learnt where the Order of the Black Rose came from. Black Thorn Fort was impervious and only accessible via magical means. Instead on laying an impossible siege with a spell gathered they destroyed the entire side of the mountain where Black Thorn Fort sat. The Heroes are assumed to have died in the blast taking the spell to the grave.

Since then there has been no clear leadership in the once Udinthau Kingdom. Now the enemy if the Black Rose gone people’s greed and power hunger took over. Not at all helped by those more powerful beings with a more chaotic or evil bend.
And now an unforeseen result of destroying a mountain was that now orcs spill through the gorge created by the explosion. The Black Rose’s evil magic called to other evil beings.
Whether or not you liked the Dwarf's iron reign no one disputes life was better under them, at least it was peaceful.

* The Dwarves lived through out the kingdom in cities with everyone else although the Capital was in an ancient Dwafven mine to the South of the kingdom. The Usinthau Kingdom was built on the back of an evil enemies invasion. The Dwarves beat them back but instead of handing territory back to the previous owners they built Udinthau which lasted for 300 years.

The war with the Black Rose lasted 4 years, dated from the freeing of Dalhurst which marked the start of a war rather than pockets of rebellion.
The Black Thorn Fort was defeated two year ago. Things have been getting worse, not better.

The Black Rose were and Order of Knights unknown before hand that seemed to come from no where, made up of every race. It seemed they wanted the kingdom though no one was able to figure out their motive, the captured constructs didn't know.



Player Name Race Class Status
DanshiiWithWulfs Ungrim the Red Dwarf - Mountain Barbarian 2 / Warlock 1 Complete & reviewed
Daendil Kestrel (Adrienna) Half-Elf Rogue (Swashbuckler) Complete & reviewed
Sadral Vaes aka Wreath of Clovers Tabaxi Rogue (Arcane Trickster) WIP
gravenimages Sagra Dakareth Gnome - Forest Wizard (Arcane Tricksster) WIP
hafrogman Lucas Wainwright Human Ranger (Horizon Walker) WIP
WhovianBeast Baruch Neriah Callstone Asimar Warlock (Celestial - Pact off the chain) Complete & reviewed
Drachenspirit Scarlett Stormblood Human Warkock Complete & reviewed
penbeast0 Cirle Half-Drow Paladin (Vow of Vengance) Complete & reviewed
Auron3991 Lyle Brightmoon Halfling - Lightfoot Cleric (Knowledge) WIP
Niyaga Ganzorig Batukhan Dwarf - Hill Complete & reviewed
Jab Burrwalky Gwydion Gemfist Dwarf - Mountain Paladin (Vow of Vengance) WIP
Farnsworth Will Hardwick Human - Variant Cleric (Light) WIP
JaredSyn Lord Artemis Denton Revenant Human Paladin (Vow of Vengance) WIP
Silent Rain Sardony Human Warlock (Celestial) 2 / Wu Jen Mystic 1 WIP
Covid 19 Lockdown over in NZ so Hi ho it's off to work I go.

Last edited by Xalnaga; 09-30-2019 at 12:07 PM.
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Old 09-19-2019, 09:06 PM
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Imveros Imveros is online now
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Sadly, I don't have time for this game, but urge anyone who's interested to apply!

Xalnaga is good people and I loved the time I spent in their massive 9v9 PvP death game last year!

You've got nothing to lose with 10 accepted applications! Don't worry about the group size either. Xal wrangled the 18 of us like a pro!
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Enlist Today!
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Old 09-19-2019, 10:32 PM
Candlemoth Candlemoth is offline
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I've been having trouble getting back into pbp, but you've caught my attention and I'm off to write up some sort of dwarf. When is the cut off date?
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Old 09-19-2019, 10:33 PM
WeBeGoblins WeBeGoblins is offline
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I'm very interested. I'll get to work on an application in a few days when my job settles down.
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Old 09-19-2019, 11:06 PM
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Sandbox isn't really my thing, but I appreciate a DM who give players a lot of room to RP and explore the world/characters. This plus a recommendation from @Imveros has cemented my interest!

@Candlemoth asks a good question there: When is the deadline for applications? And are you allowing multiclassing? I have a rad idea to combine barbarian with a warlock (to adequately describe the concept I'm thinking of), and was thinking how/if a Fiend Patron would qualify as a minor deity. I'd love your thoughts on this.

Last edited by DanshiiWithWulfs; 09-19-2019 at 11:07 PM.
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Old 09-19-2019, 11:31 PM
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Hey guys welcome, and thank you Imveros, that was good times.

As to the due date let's say mid October. I normally don't run too close to those dates if the game looks good and get's momentum I normally call it early and if takes two weeks to get an app together then it tells me you aren't going to be able to make two posts a week. That being said I do enjoy apps that start off looking basic and then with PMs and the stealing of other's creativity they grow into something perfect for the setting.

Multi-classing is something I love my people to have. My own characters normally dip into something else which shows what they've been through. A fighter who has seen a lot of magic might dip into sorcerer or a ranger who is constantly healed by the cleric might dip into paladin etc.

And yes a Fiend/Patron would definitely come under the realm of someone trying to reach godhood.
Covid 19 Lockdown over in NZ so Hi ho it's off to work I go.
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Old 09-20-2019, 01:31 AM
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Houtoku Houtoku is offline
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I feel like my longest apps are usually a combination of my propensity to overthink, the tyranny of choice, and really trying to not keep making the same chars (... although, apparently I'm really good at it since the chars I've gotten accepted recently have been 2 Rogues and a Dex-Fighter...)

This is interesting though, and I'm contemplating trying something a bit stupid and/or amusing as far as character creation goes.
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Old 09-20-2019, 02:16 AM
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Application, Complete?
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Name: Ungrim the Red
Race: Mountain Dwarf
Class: Barbarian 2 / Warlock 1 (Fiend Patron)

Background: Outlander (Tribal Nomad)

Backstory/History: Ungrim belongs to a little-known barbarian tribe of dwarves called the Uzkulgrund; an archaic dwarven term for "bone-grinder". These dwarves revel in battle, and take promises and oaths quite seriously, often sealing them with their own blood. These tattooed warriors therefore were highly sought as mercenaries, often raising morale simply with their imposing presence. Most dwarves lived in cities, under the protection (and subjection) to the Udinthau Kingdom; the Uzkulgrund lived under the mountains to the north, recognizing no far-away king over their tribe. Those positions of authority were held by their chiefs, who was usually the oldest, wisest, and often strongest warrior. Each of these tribes also tended to worship Krulth, the god of war. If the warriors were not off testing their mettle against the horrors living in the crags, forest, or the beachfronts, they were fighting their neighbors. Feuds were more than common among the barbarians, and Krulth's tenet that one's death should be welcomed only served to add fuel to the fire of raiding one another's territories, not even considering the possibility of working together for a common or bigger goal. Yet for all their bickering and external strife, the Uzkulgrund at least were known among the kingdoms to be stout-hearted and oath-keeping folk. Indeed strength, honor, and bravery in battle no matter the odds were so deeply ingrained into their culture that they would certainly be comparable to their more civilized kin, save for the fact that they are quite resistant to any change or innovation, and that they revelled in battle to the point of euphoria.

Ungrim the Red, known for his oft blood-spattered fire-red hair and beard, is one of the fiercest and oldest warriors in the tribe. He led one of many skirmishes against forces of drow, halflings, and even the Order of the Black Rose near Krakole Pass, earning both notoriety for himself with his enemies and the attention of Count Fogthorn, who recruited him and his blood-brothers for the forces of Udinthau. The fighting was fierce and chaotic, and the Uzkulgrund thrived in both. That is, until they encountered the Black Rose's hidden forces: the Warforged.

With the barbarians ill-equipped to face the arcane-wrought metal of the constructs with their primitive axes, more and more of the Uzkulgrund fell in battle. They were glorious deaths, to be sure. Ungrim's own brother Yargrim breathed his last atop a heavily-dismembered warforged warrior, his axe reduced to a club by the time he was done hacking at his enemies. Yet the blood-brothers knew that in order to fight off these tough automatons, they needed to wield greater power. In a moment of desperation, Ungrim and the handful of his blood-brothers who were left fighting called upon Kazak-Rinn, who was the Blood-Bathed, and rumored to be the lover of the dwarven god Krulth. In exchange for supernatural and unearthly powers, Ungrim and his fellow Uzkulgrund barbarians would be servants of the goddess, a force of nature wielded for her unfathomable designs.

After the chaos at the Black Thorn Gorge, Ungrim remained the only Uzkulgrund left as a mercenary. Those who did not participate in the blood ritual shied away from Ungrim and his ilk, and eventually returned to their tribe. A number of his blood-brothers who had called for Kazak-Rinn's favors were now dead; more than a few went mad moments beforehand, speaking of forgiveness and retribution, and a fulfillment of prophecy. The others simply disappeared without so much as a word, which was taboo in their tribe; one simply did not go back on one's promise, and they promised to fight. Was it The Mother's fingers who pulled his brothers' strings? Was he destined to face the same sordid fate? Or were they simply not strong enough to endure the Lover's Embrace? One day, when peace finally settles over the realm, Ungrim meant to find the rest of his kin, and seek to rebuild the glory of the Uzkulgrund once again. That is, if they would even deign to have him back.

For now, it was mercenary work for Ungrim. After the war, the dwarf struck out on his own, hunting down the remaining pockets of warforged he could find and crushing them to bits. The barbarian soon found out that one needed coin and friends in order to complete his task, which was why he returned to his Udinthau warband and formed a party with his old friends from the last war. Ungrim saw them as dependable warriors equally dedicated to the task of ridding the world from all traces of the Black Rose; even when the work done was for some local noble or other, the battles were entertaining enough. Yet Ungrim itched for a greater challenge; something that even his clan from their mountain home would hear about, and hopefully sway their minds enough to allow him the time of day to be heard. If the Uzkulgrund were truly to survive the times, they needed to be strong again. They needed to be one again. Ungrim would make sure of that, if it was the last thing he did.

How that would play into Kazak-Rinn's plans was another story.

Deity:Name: Kazak-Rinn, the Blood-Bathed; described as the Lover of Krulth, Mother of Battle, She Who is Under the Earth
Tenets: All is fair in war. Blood is paid where blood is owed. Never surrender; until the rivers run red with your enemies' blood.
Symbol: A bloody dual-bladed battle axe with a black-and-gold bear skull as its head

Last edited by DanshiiWithWulfs; 09-24-2019 at 04:22 AM.
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Old 09-20-2019, 04:38 AM
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Is there a certain level you expect players to reach eventually before the game ends?
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Old 09-20-2019, 04:52 AM
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Name: Kestrel (Adrienna-Lenndastriel-Beredeth)
Race: Half-Elf
Class: Rogue: Swashbuckler (SCAG)
Background: Soldier. I'll get Survival from half-elf skills, so np.Explanation depricated.
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Alignment: N
Ideal: In the end it comes down to skills. The better one wins. I'll win.
Bond: "I'll never forget the crushing defeat my company suffered or the enemies who dealt it."
Flaw: "The monstrous enemy we faced in battle still leaves me quivering with fear.", also: "My hatred of my enemies is blind and unreasoning."
Deity: most often she turns to Astrindea, the huntress. She has some dislike towards Ennam, the all-mother, firstly because of her own half-blood birth, and also because of losing loved ones again and again.
Description: (larger picture)
Kestrel looks more or less like a human girl in their early twenties, only her slightly pointy ears hinting at her elven heritage. Her otherwise delicate features are offset by her fierce, almost rude behavior. Her shining bright blue eyes make most men turn their head. She keeps her long wavy hazel hair clamped to a ponytail, and she often uses a streak of black war paint over her eyes.

Elissandra-Merabeth was one of Lord Abbrendor's messengers (ears?, spies?, agents?...). She traveled across the Udinthau kingdom working towards the Lord's goal of procuring as much autonomy to the small Western domain of Illionnehont as possible. Lord Abbrendor proceeded towards his grand dream with elven patience through decades, never pushing too hard but always keeping his eyes on the distant destination: to plant a new seed of the long lost elven kingdoms.

After years of conscientious service love clouded Elissandra's judgement, but things didn't turn out as she'd hoped. She retreated to Illionnehont to raise her half-bood daughter, Adrienna. She taught her many of the tricks of her old trade as an agent, hoping that one day Adrienna would serve Lord Abbrendor just like she did before. But the elves' bittersweet dream of restoring their long lost kingdom meant nothing to Adrienna. At such young age she already felt that among the elves she'd always remain an outcast no matter what. Due to her half-human blood she matured much faster than her peers resulting in her soon becoming unbearably lonely. She decided to leave her home and see the world. Her mother didn't oppose (realizing she wouldn't be able to contain Adrienna's wanderlust) but she emphasized that Illionnehont would always be there for her should she become tired of wandering - a promise that later wasn't kept...

Young and naive, Adrienna was rapturous with her sudden freedom. She roamed the land aimlessly, hunting game for food, and selling hide for profit - not even knowing that doing so without a license was in fact poaching. Luckily the dwarven ranger that tracked her down recognized her innocence. Instead of treating her like a criminal, Minna took Adrienna as her associate and the two soon started a business running hunting trips for the wealthy. Business was good and Minna and "Lenna" (as she used to call her) became true friends.

When the first news arrived about the sudden death of the king Adrienna didn't think much about it. Her mother and the nobles of Illionnehont perhaps welcomed the change seeing it as an opportunity to strike a better deal with the new ruler. Adrienna just didn't care. Months passed and the clientele of their hunting trip business slowly changed. Wealthy young nobles suddenly didn't have time to spend on carefree fun as tension increased across the kingdom. Minna furrowed her brow more and more often as secretly traveling diplomats and shady agents gradually took the spoiled nobleboys' place as clients. Soon they were followed by refugees, and business was over. Neither Minna nor Lenna had the heart to ask for money for helping women and children through the wilderness. They weren't able to stay away from the troubles that disarranged the kingdom any longer.

Minna and Lenna acted as guides escorting troops on secret passages to aid them against the Order of the Black Rose. Adrienna learned that Illionnehont had been plundered. Lord Abbrendor was imprisoned for plotting against the late king, and when his subjects rebelled against the harsh verdict, the city was razed by the infamous constructs of the Order. Many had died and those that remained fled deep into the woods. Adrienna could only hope that her mother was among the living. Seeking her out seemed hopeless. Besides, Minna needed her help in this part of the kingdom.

Disaster hit when the two huntresses were aiding the retreat of a battered group of militia. They were already further from the front line and everyone thought the worst part of the journey was behind them. Then one night their camp was ambushed by a seek-and-destroy unit of Black Rose constructs. No one knew where they came from. The more able soldiers put up a fight with the two automations that were destroying the camp while Minna and Adrienna tried to evacuate the wounded. Suddenly a third death-machine appeared right behind Adrienna. She froze in terror, only able to raise her arms in a futile attempt to protect her face. But the machine hesitated. "Not human... Not elf..." - it uttered in a deep, resonating voice. It was the first and the last time Adrienna ever heard those things talk. The scene ineradicably burned into her mind. The moment of the machine's hesitation gave Minna enough time to plant her waraxe deep into the construct's waist. "Run, Lenna!" - she screemed her last words, and Adrienna obeyed.

She was devastated the following days. Minna was so strong, so full of life, and she died for nothing. To save her worthless friend. "Why Minna, why?" - she would cry all day. That's when she met Baruch in the war camp where the torn regiment regrouped. Baruch had no time for despair. He did what he thought was right to do, and he did it right then, right there. It was due to his example that she decided no matter how small she was she was going to give everything to fight back the enemy. And however little she was able to contribute, it was still going to matter! She enrolled the militia, and from that time she called herself Kestrel. She was no warrior, but she knew how to hunt. She would scout and hide and pounce just like a bird of prey.

The months and years of merciless war trained her body and hardened her spirit. Just like her bird-idol utilized its small sharp beak, she became deadly with her sly daggers. Interestingly it was another bird, an exceptionally clever raven called Red, that helped her become a truly adept scout. It belonged to a strange, cold woman, Scarlett. She would often let her "borrow" Red to scout ahead together. Adrienna never felt very close to Scarlett, but with Red they were team.

Eventually the war would end, but things never returned to how they were in the old peaceful days. Chaos emerged in the kingdom. Old enemies jumped at each other's throat, emerging lords sought to extend their power. Demand for hardened mercenaries was higher than ever. As most ex-soldiers, Kestrel had no other way than to sign up for this group then the other, fighting for this noble or that landlord. Background was changing constantly but the essence remained the same.

This time her group's assignment brought her to Churwood Forest. Finally a few days of well deserved rest...

RP sampleKestrel rewarded the gnome's joke with a half-smile. She raised her tin mug but the witty punch line kept echoing in her mind and before the mug reached her lips she let out a wholehearted giggle. For a moment she transformed back to the young innocent girl she once was. Sagra couldn't help but ponder how the war robbed the world of this sweet smile that was now so seldom shown. Indeed when she put her mug down there was no trace of happiness on her face. This night reminded her too much of that night.

Through the years she had learned to convert her crippling fear of Black Rose constructs into blind hatred. And if one appeared right here, she'd be the first to lunge at it, thrusting her blade deep into one of its weak points (which she knew better than the back of her hand). But those of the other kind... the unreal ones that lived in her head. Those that waited for her on cozy nights like tonight just outside the light-circle of the camp fire. Those that stalked her when she walked alone, that were hiding in the shadows of abandoned buildings. Those were much harder to slay...

She nervously glanced back over her shoulder. Then she caught herself and forced her gaze straight ahead, into the fire.
- "It's getting late. I'd better get some rest. Looks like Scarlett's getting us an assignment." - she nodded towards a tent a little further away. - "Lucas already received one in the afternoon. Tomorrow's gonna be busy..." - she said with intended ease as she stood up, but the gnome saw right through her. Sagra had so much to say but nothing to undo the horrors of the past. They all had their scars from the war. He nodded silently.
- "Good night, little bird!" - he teased.
- "Good night, old one!" - she replied with a faint smile as she walked away, getting ready to fight her demons yet another night.

RP sample #2- "I said no."
- "But I wanna go! Ganzorig said there will be shooting stars tonight."
- "Not before you've eaten. I didn't spend four hours in the woods hunting for you to skip dinner." - Kestrel's bright blue eyes scanned the boy's unkempt hair and his sulky face.
- "Light is on the right path..." - he started to whisper on an angry, half-loud tone, silver light flashing in his eyes. But he was cut short by Kestrel's gaze.
- "Really, William?!" - she called on scolding voice.
The boy was frightened. He looked at the ground. It wasn't the scolding that scared him, but what he saw in the girl's eyes. That for a brief moment she was frightened. His throat became sore.
- "I'm sorry..."
- "You will be sorry, when you get beaten by a girl!" - she said with an overplayed smug smile.
- "I'm sorry." - he said still in regret.
Kestrel reached out to stroke his head playfully. - "It's my fault. I should've been quicker. Now eat! Who knows when we'll get proper nourishment again..."
She handed one plate to the boy and took one for herself. Tasting the stew she proudly called: - "Hmmm, that's actually pretty good!"

Tentative.... (I don't know if there are gods worshipped mainly by elves)
Name: Ennam, the all-mother
Tenants: Life, birth, caring love, growth
Symbol: Seldom visualized as she's present everywhere at all times. Usually symbolized by an intricately interwoven circle when needed to depict regardless.

Name: Astrindea, the huntress
Tenants: Hunt, trickery, night
Symbol: A triangle: Δ (there are multiple explanations for the reason why. Could be the stylized first letter of her name; could be an arrow head; could be a cloak to hide her; or maybe all of these, or none - how could one hope to understand the reasons of the goddess of trickery?)

Last edited by Daendil; 09-26-2019 at 05:07 PM.
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Old 09-20-2019, 06:02 AM
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Originally Posted by Raizen View Post
Is there a certain level you expect players to reach eventually before the game ends?
Hi Raizen, that is a solid question. I don't have a good answer for you sorry. I've never been in a PbP game that made it passed a few levels (even the few I've ben in that latest more than a year) due to how slow it is. I can tell you this after a while I'll get bored of using the same monsters all the time so might throw out another couple of levels just so we can fight something bigger and badder and so we can use cooler spells and abilities.
(I'm getting more realistic in what I expect from a PbP game these days. A few years here will do that, and not in a bad way. I'm just more honest )

Hey, welcome to the app process Daendil
Covid 19 Lockdown over in NZ so Hi ho it's off to work I go.

Last edited by Xalnaga; 09-20-2019 at 06:05 AM.
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Old 09-20-2019, 07:02 AM
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Took me several days just to settle on what I wanted to play, now to get started on the app proper!

Character Application
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Name: Wreath of Clovers. Renamed Vaes after going anonymous.
Race: Tabaxi
Class: Rogue (Arcane Trickster)
Background: Faction Agent
Physical Description: Vaes can be fairly intimidating to some when fully standing, appearing as a 6”4 snow leopard. His fur is grey and white, with black spots scattered all across his body, deep blue eyes being the only discrepancy in this uniform portrait. With a slender but athletic build, he usually keeps a round shouldered slouch to avoid drawing too much attention. Wearing more often than not long coats over a leather armor, he likes to hide his features with deep hoods, allowing him to hide his perky ears and feline-like features. To better hide his fur, what isn’t covered by clothes is usually wrapped in grey linen, the fabric covering his hands and feet often concealing small weapons, tools or trinkets. His belt is a homemade support for no less than 10 sheathes evenly spread all around his waist, most holding throwing daggers, as well as little satchels to hold spell components.

Personality: Vaes is dutiful and honorable. If he has a task, he will follow it to the letter and do his absolute best at all times. Paradoxically, he can also be one hell of a slacker when not on the job. If left without a clear objective, it is not unusual to see him curled up against a fire, napping his way through the day. The tabaxi always has an easy joke with his comrades, rather relaxed when at peace. With enemies however he tends to be nasty, laying traps, goading them into attacking while he retreats behind his lines, or taunting them to invite mistakes.
Bonds: With his clan and, as far as he knows, last members of his race held hostages and exploited by the Findlay barony, Vaes has a clear duty to find any way to free them and give them a decent place to live. More, it became a divine mission after Bast manifested herself and helped him and others like him to disappear. Everything he does is ultimately aimed at finding a solution and he will stop at nothing to gain allies, gold or a way to destitute Findlay.
Ideal: Freedom is at the heart of Vaes’ culture, goddess and blood. For him or anyone else, he will not suffer to see a shackle and will do his best to break it. The ideal has been ingrained in him by his clan, as for instance the Emerald Collective never had jail sentences. Small offenses were to be repaid in kind or worked towards retribution. For more serious crimes, the culprit was released in the jungle and hunted for 9 days and 10 nights by a party of 3 “judges”. If they managed to escape, they would not be allowed back to the Collective but were left alone to live the rest of their lives.
Flaws: Vaes can be dutiful to a fault. It tends to give him somewhat of a tunnel vision when he’s focused on an objective he really desires, and it has proven to lead him to mistakes or errors of judgement. He also always preferred to use the tabaxi dialect in his younger years, and thus is prone to small mistakes when speaking Common, for instance using idioms that only make sense to him and others of his race.

Backstory / History:
Long before the death of the king of Udinthau, at the heart of the wild lands beyond the Dead Sea, a civilization was thriving in the hot and humid jungles spanning the continent.
Fairly isolationist in nature, the Emerald Collective, as this nation was called, was a gathering of a dozen large tribes of tabaxi people, led by a council of each tribe’s elder, gathering in the ruins of a much older and now extinct civilization. Fast, cunning and agile, the tabaxis of the Collective were the alpha predator in their environment, living of the hunt, always in balance and harmony with the nature that provided for them. It was the combination of deadly creatures roaming the jungle and the fierce territoriality of the tabaxi that led this part of the world to be branded “Wild Lands” and never explored more in depth.

The natural curiosity of this race had pushed them to organize frequent delves in the ruins they inhabited, studying the history of long gone predecessors of an unknown race, gathering ancient artifacts and forgotten knowledge. This led the race to be fairly proficient in arcane magic and organize in college each dedicated to a specific aspect to this civilization lost to time.
The clash of this slowly recovered and assimilated knowledge and technology, mixed with the tribe-based culture of the tabaxi made for a strange but beautiful civilization, shaping the world around it while always keeping it in harmony with what was before.

A bit more than 70 years ago, something else got interested by the endless ruins of the continent, coming from far beyond the boundaries of this reality. The topic is taboo for the survivors and most of the information was lost, but a rift opened somewhere and creatures spewed forth, overtaking the territories of the Emerald Collective, corrupting the very land and pushing its people further and further south, towards the sea.

Countless lives were lost to the gruesome struggle that ensued, both from the actual fights and the mistakes caused by the use of forbidden and not yet completely understood magics that the Collective used in a desperate attempt to push back the invader.
In the end, only a few ships and rafts worth of tabaxi made it to the sea, a forced exile of hundreds. A decent chunk of these survivors landed on the north-western shores of the Udinthau Kingdom, on the lands of Baron Findlay, a powerful and opportunistic noble back when the king was still sitting on the throne.

At first more than reluctant to accept these strange refugees, it quickly became apparent to the baron and his men that these traumatized feline humanoids had several physical advantages that could benefit the barony. Fast, agile, stealthy and smart, in a few weeks they had shown qualities the baron couldn’t pass on. Kniving, he used the desperate state of these survivors against them to strike an uneven deal.
The bargain was fairly simple: The tabaxis were allowed to stay and settle on his lands without being subjected to any taxes. They could rebuild and live in peace. In exchange, they would swear to stay on the barony’s land, forbidden to wander and settle anywhere else, and each year a tribute of young tabaxis were to be sent for the barony’s purpose, trained and sent in various missions.

Isolationists at heart despite their curiosity, stranded in an unknown new land that seemed too flat and hostile to them, what remained of the Emerald Collective accepted the deal, with little other choices.
Findlay used his newfound agents to increase his power and influence, using their talents for stealth and rapidity to steal documents and artifacts or gather information and dirt on his rivals. Whoever wasn’t fitful for training was pried for information about the northern continent and bits of knowledge they had about the ancient civilization and its ruins.
When the king died, Findlay quickly felt the turning of the wind, and without a second pledged allegiance to the king’s brother and the Order of the Black Rose, lending his resources to their cause.

It is in this climate that Wreath of Clover, then turned 20, was trained and worked as a spy and messenger. As the rebellion started, he was one of the few tabaxi proficient enough in the arcane, a strong point of his clan, to carry messages and gather information through enemy lines, using illusions and stealth combined to slip anywhere, anytime. He wasn’t loyal to the Black Rose itself and smart enough to realize his people were basically held hostages by the barony. But without any other choice accomplished several missions for the Order and its new king. He found himself at the heart of Dalhurst at the worst of the fighting, or was one of the few who could cross the Krakole Pass to transmit information through the entrenched war camps.

Each time he was allowed to come back home, having seen the horrors of war and changed a bit more each time, he was petitioning the elders to break the contract with the barony and relocate somewhere safe, better, to stop letting themselves be exploited and killed for a cause that wasn’t theirs. But kept far away from war, most of his brethren were oblivious to the situation of the realm. More wisely, they deemed that even if everything was true, relocating an entire town in a climate of nationwide insurrection would only lead to more deaths for a people that lost so many of theirs already in the last exile.

A year or so after the freeing of Dalhurst, when gods started to retake an interest in the realms and manifested their will upon the world, Bast, the tutelary deity of the tabaxi, spoke to her people through seers and dreams. To Wreath of Clover, it was a relief to hear her calling. She told them she was proud of their resilience, that they had made the only choice offered to them, but it was time to free themselves now. The deal struck with the baron only aided in bringing chaos and evil upon the world, and that it would yield only doom if they continued on that path. She knew the Collective was held hostage and couldn’t relocate in the middle of a war, and thus devised of a plan. Through her few clerics, she aided in orchestrating the disappearance of the young tabaxis forced to work for Findlay. In a vast travesty, a dozen of operatives all seemingly died in combat, taken prisoner or disappeared in fires. Others were guided to work as double agents to bring the Black Rose down. All the presumed dead agents were set on a path to look for contacts, gold, allies, anything that could help in freeing those stranded in Findlay’s territory and provide a safe haven for Bast’s people.

Switching sides, Wreath of Clover, now renamed Vaes for anonymity, started working against the Black Rose Order. Providing information, stealing papers, spying on troop movements or assassinating low rank officers, he did everything he could to aid the rebellion, celebrating in the victory when the mountain fell.

Even with the fall of Black Thorn Fort however, the land is not at rest and nor is Vaes. The end of the war had deprived him of his most powerful support, but Baron Findlay was still alive, fighting his neighbors in an ever increasing greed and thirst for power, the Collective still in his iron grasp.
One step closer of his goal now that the automatons, the Black Rose, drows and halflings had been defeated, there was more work to be done, and Vaes joined the militia at the end of the war, looking for support, ways to make influent contacts, anything that could lead to his final goal.

Sample of an everyday post

Male Tabaxi Rogue


Vaes couldn’t help but grin when his companion asked if it was possible to get the keys.
Nodding to him, he answered with his usual slow drawl and yet another strange idiom. "Hrrm, of course I can, it doesn’t break three legs to a duck. Give me a second."

Pulling his hood back to have a clearer view on the back alley, he peaked at the corner of the building, looking for his target. The guard was there, talking with his colleague, and spotting the dangling ring of keys wasn’t hard despite the relative darkness. The flickering light of the surrounding torches was enough to make the metal glint in the dark.

The tabaxi joined the thumb and ring finger of his left hand, drawing intricate arabesques in the air with the right as he whispered a few words. For a second, a soft shimmer surrounded his hand, a purple force dissociating from his body and moving through the air. Quickly it disappeared, the Mage Hand visible only for its user as it flew to the guards. The spell mirroring his motions, he guided his will to the key, softly lifted them from the belt and, keeping the hand low to the ground, brought them back to him.

With a satisfied smirk, he showed the ring of keys in his actual hand to his friend before bowing theatrically with his arm extended to the side in an invitation to leave the place. "Shall we now? I mean, if you want to stay here we can, I can feel this wall is against the house's chimney, would be the perfect spot to take a nap!" showing the nearest wall behind him with a motion of his thumb after straightening back up.

MechanicsMovement: 10 feet to the corner of the building
Action: Cast Mage Hand
Level: Cantrip Casting Time: 1 Action
Range, Area: 30 ft Components: V,S
Duration: 1 Minute School: Conjuration
Attack, Save: None

A spectral, floating hand appears at a point you choose within range. The hand lasts for the duration or until you dismiss it as an action. The hand vanishes if it is ever more than 30 feet away from you or if you cast this spell again.

You can use your action to control the hand. You can use the hand to manipulate an object, open an unlocked door or container, stow or retrieve an item from an open container, or pour the contents out of a vial. You can move the hand up to 30 feet each time you use it.

The hand can't attack, activate magic items or carry more than 10 pounds.
Mage Hand.
Bonus Action: Use Mage Hand Legerdemain to steal keys from the guard’s belt. Sleight of Hand Check: 18

DeityName: Bast, The Eye in Shadow
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Description: Probably known by other names if she's worshiped in other cultures, Bast is the tutelary goddess of the tabaxi, leader of their pantheon. She is the goddess of Freedom, Knowledge, Hunt and Balance. The extremely varied domains are a testiment of the strange culture of the Emerald Collective, whose curiosity pushed to always dig deeper into the knowledge of the Ancients, and use it with parsimony to preserve their environment.
Tenants: Value freedom of mind, spirit and body. Seek the knowledge that guides your path to freedom. Be not afraid to enjoy the hunt, for one day, you too shall be the hunted.
Symbol: A yellow eye with vertical pupil between two pillars covered in runes, on a dark green background
How was the character called as a devotee?:

I am lucky enough to have unrestricted access to RPGx while at work, so I can post several times a day if needed. I am living on Japan Standard Time, so expect most of my posts to be during the day in GMT+9.
The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. - O.W.
Once you create a chicken accountant he remains that way until the next fiscal year. - Takeo Ischi

Last edited by Sadral; 09-26-2019 at 05:23 AM.
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Old 09-20-2019, 07:45 AM
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...confirm nor deny that comment...

Last edited by DanshiiWithWulfs; 09-20-2019 at 07:45 AM.
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Old 09-20-2019, 11:38 AM
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Character info:
Starting at Level 3. Point buy not roll. Yes, you can use the standard stat array.
Equipment: You are buying it. Your get $300gp + 1x uncommon magic item.

Name: Sagra Dakareth
Race: Forest Gnome
Class: Arcane Trickster
Background: Entertainer (Actor, Singer, Storyteller) I change my mood or my mind as quickly as I change key in a song.
Ideal: The world is in need of new ideas and bold action.
Bond I idolize a hero of the old tales and measure my deeds against lhal person's.
Flaw: Despile my best efforts, I am unreliable to my friends.
Deity: Ryteros, god of discovery

Role Play Sample" Well, what's takin' so long? Kint ye open et? " The dwarf's deep bass voice cut through the silence, echoing mutedly down the corridor as he jostled the gnome's elbow. Lena, the sorceress, winced, her keen elven ears amplifying the sound as the group huddled around the door. This door was the last one to check, and definitely the best constructed. If the loot wasn't behind it, the whole expedition was a wash.

Sagra sighed in irritation. He found himself doing that more and more lately. Keegan was a virtuoso when holding either an axe or an ale mug, but his worth in stealthy endeavors could be measured against a handful of bent copper pieces. The young gnome wiped his brow, looked back at the dwarf lounging against the wall, massive arms crossed over his breastplate. Maybe it was time to deal with him and the lock both. I'm having some trouble, actually, Keegan. Can you give me a hand? Hold this.

" Umm... Uh... Oh--kay? " Keegan wasn't the quickest on the uptake. Sagra shrugged off his backpack, handed it over to the dwarf. The small crossbow came next, and last the soft leather roll of tools that Sagra had been plying unsuccessfully at the lock.

Thanks. Now can I borrow your axe a minute? Keegan's bushy brows knit in confusion, but he obliged. Sagra could barely heft it, but did so gamely. Kay, stand over here if you would. The dwarf clanked over to the door, while Sagra took his place against the wall, resting the axe against it and leaning back against the wall in a parody of the dwarf's stance. Well, what's takin' so long? Kint ye open et? The young gnome's trained voice hit the dwarf's rustic inflection perfectly, drawing a giggle from the sorceress and a glower from the dwarf.

Don't worry, I suck at your job too. Sagra tries and fails to swing the heavy axe with any force or direction. Gimme my tools back, and give me time to work. Kay? He holds out the axe as a peace offering.

Backstory / History: Sagra's early life was not much different that than of the others of his clan. Granted, he was the grandson of a wise elder, giving him some degree of status. He lived his life in the secretive, carefree manner of his reculsive folk. The forest gmones were secure in their remote, forested location and their magical talents to keep others away, save a few choice merchants and ambassadors. Sagra whiled away the years working and playing pranks, becoming prominent amongst his clan for his ingenuity and outrageous pranking exploits.

Finding little challenge and great frustration in continuing to perform for the same gnomes over and over again, Sagra began to broaden his horizons. He made habit of sneaking into the nearby dwarven village of Selkrag, finding the larger folks' stoic ways a perfect challenge and foil for his own exploits. As often as not he was tossed out of the village with a stern instruction not to return, but such instruction lost something when the guardsman in question was strugging to avoid displaying an fit of mirth unbecoming his station. And so they looked the other way when he'd return a week later. The time in between was spent recounting and embellishing his exploits among his own people.

During one such trip the village militia was mustered. This had happened before, in response to banditry and humanoid attacks. Sagra decided to tag along, as some of his best audience was mustered out. But these were no raids, nor humanoid attacks. The initial encounter with the Black Rose was swift. The old dwarf leading the militia quickly counted the long odds, and fell back to evaculate the village.

Sagra lent his talents to the effort, able to wriggle and skulk into places where dwarves and taller pathfinders from nearly forces couldn't quite reach. His talents of illusion also screened his own movements and the retreat of several slower villagers, ensuring that most survived. During this time he met a pathfinder named Lenna, and formed a friendship with his irrepressable personality keeping morale high while folks were in retreat.

She continued in her role, and his best fit was found with the foragers and scavengers, keeping the army fed, warm, and armed during the campaign. He scrounged, organized, and occasionally snuck behind enemy lines to find stockpiles that the soldiers could acquire with raids and ambushes, all the while with the distinct flair that he believed separated the good from the truly great, like his idol, the debatably legendary rogue Attervius.

Retreats followed retrograde actions followed advances to the rear in the initial parts of the war. He found himself reunited with Lenna at the war camp, licking his wounds (and his pride) after a raid turned into an ambush and he retreated with the beaten soldiers and their militia auxiliaries. By then, the pressure on this particular group was eased as others were finding success on other fronts. They were eventually fed into other units as reinforcements.

After the war Sagra tried going back to his old life but he'd seen too much of the world and it's people to remain in an insular state. Mercenary work gave him both a varied audience for his own tales, and the colorful tales of others to adapt and tell later. Plus, he could make more stories, and keep up helping others with his both his blatant presence, and the darker skills he'd honed during the war.

Once more he happened across Lenna, now Kestrel. He working with the warlord against Lord Foghorn until the two met up in the dark, he scouting supply lines and she scouting the warlord's supplies. For a moment the old Lenna shined through her hard exterior, and he purposed to go with his friend, walking away from the employ of the warlord. The two bounced from group to group, their skills welcome but neither of them forming really close bonds, which meant they were the first to be sent packing during lean times. They had stuck with this group for awhile, though...

Name: Ryteros, the Itinerant Mirth, the Restless, God of Discovery.
Tenants: Travel, Levity, Exploration, Insatiable Curiosity,.
Symbol: A forked road

How did they recruit you as a devotee?

Ryteros was a fairy dragon, oft companion of Attervius on his many journeys. They were actually used in cautionary tales by the Forest Gnome people, as their many perils and exploits were all attributed to travel amongst the larger folk of the land. Sagra envisioned them as heroes and adventurers from a very early age, and sought to emulate and best their exploits.

And so a power appeared to Sagra as the fairy dragon during the war, in equal parts tempting, teasing, pranking, and praising his efforts. During the war it fueled and was fueled by the gnome's tireless humor, and relentless searching. It helped him find food and supplies as well as relics... But each discovery was now the benchmark to be exceeded in future efforts!

Soldiers are quiet superstitious, doubly so where there are actually demonstrable gods. Sagra oft invokes the blessings of the Itinerant Mirth before setting out, asking not that he and his achieve their objective, but that hearts be light on the journey, and that discovery lie along the way.
One more bad decision and I think I'll own the full set.

Last edited by gravenimages; 09-26-2019 at 04:59 PM.
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Old 09-20-2019, 11:40 AM
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Name: Lucas Wainwright
Race: Human
Class: Ranger (Horizon Walker)
Background: Haunted One (Cos)
  • Personality Trait: I am haunted by visions of worlds beyond our own and I struggle to control these abilities.
  • Ideal: Community. I grew up in the shelter of a stable society, and I long to see the nation rebuilt to a place where the next generation can see peace once again.
  • Bond: I remember my roots and strive to safeguard those who still live simple lives.
  • Flaw: I idealize my brother and constantly weigh myself against the image of him I have built up in my mind, trying to live up to an impossible ideal.
Diety: The Gatekeeper
BackstoryBenedict Wainwright was a hero to his little brother Lucas. The brothers had grown up in a time of peace and prosperity under the aegis of the Kingdom of Udinthau and the Legionnaires. But when the Order of the Black Rose came to power and the people rose up against them, Benedict was one of the first in line to join the cause. For his part, Lucas desperately wanted to follow his idolized older brother, but he was too young. War eventually blurs such lines however, and before all was said and done, Lucas would get his chance. For now though, the younger Wainwright had to settle for watching the units marching away their village on the way to the join the rebellion. At the start it was glorious, all polished steel and precision. But as the war dragged on, things began to change. The units marching forward were notably less well-equipped and lacked the discipline of the earlier troops. The few remnants that came marching back were an even sorrier sight, coated in blood, dirt and grime. The bruised and battered wrecks of what had once been soldiers.

As more and more of the rebels fell to the implacable constructs of the Order, the rebellion forces by necessity became less and less selective. Soon enough, Lucas got his wish and was marching off to follow in his brother's footsteps. The shine and glory of it all fell away terribly quickly, but Lucas remained dedicated to his purpose. He would be reunited with Benedict, the war would be won, order would be restored and the brothers would return home, together. Things would once again be as they had been. Between now and then there would just be marching, and battles, and more marching.

Benedict had been busy in the intervening time. Lucas would have been proud of all he done and accomplished. He had proven himself a skilled and loyal warrior, but also possessed of an innate charisma that made men willing to follow him into the Nine Hells if he asked. He had received a battlefield commission after his unit's commanding officer fell in battle and now he was a decorated Lieutenant. It was one of the bloodiest battles near the end of the war when the two brothers finally met once more. Lucas was hard pressed on all sides, most of his unit had already fallen and he was trying to make his way to the nearest rally point before he could be picked off. That's when he spied the man leading the defense of the tiny enclave. So much time had passed and they had both been changed more than they realized, but they still recognized each other instantly. Their gazes locked for only a second as Lucas continued to push forward, then the moment was shattered in an instant as a glowing bead of energy flashed into the crowd of soldiers and everything exploded into fire.

Everything was over when Lucas awoke with a sudden gasp, sitting upright amidst the carnage of the battlefield. To this day he doesn't know which side 'won' that battle, both abandoned it following the clash. A fight over a place neither side cared enough to hold. As memories of his last moments slowly filtered back to him, Lucas began desperately began searching for his brother. He found him all too quickly, lying among countless other bodies. Ravens flitted between the corpses, and Lucas found just enough energy to close the distance in a burst, scattering the carrion birds in a fluttering of wings and a cacophony of disgruntled caws. Benedict was long gone, and Lucas's world crumbled away from him. That was the first time it happened to him. Standing over Benedict's corpse, he had a sudden vision of another world, overlaid over the top of our own. He saw only grayness and shadowy figures that seemed to circle around the brothers. Snatching up Benedict's sword, he swung to no avail at apparitions only he could see while one silent watcher stood apart from the others. The vision eventually faded and Lucas collapsed in the remains of a battlefield utterly lost and alone.

Since that day, Lucas has been continually plagued by visions of other places that he cannot explain. He could not bear to return home, not without Benedict. So he wandered. He has squandered his pay on countless priests, sages, medics and miracle workers. Some tried to sell him lies, others assured him that he wasn't sick or cursed or ensorcelled, but none could stop or explain the visions. He his own studies have taught him some of the planes beyond our own, granting him understanding of what he is seeing, if not how or why. With that knowledge he has begun a long slow path to try and control the forces at play in his life. The wars had finally come to their conclusion, but there was still plenty of work for a soldier, and new wars soon rose up across the region. Sword in hand, Lucas continued the only life he now knew.


The Gatekeeper
right-aligned image

A self-appointed guardian of the ways between worlds with hidden motives. On the rare occasions that the Gatekeeper chooses to manifest, it appears as tall, cloaked figure of indeterminate gender and race. The Gatekeeper never speaks, keeping a silent vigil over the realms of man and beyond.
Tenets: Hold fast the boundaries of reality.
Symbol: A golden key within a doorway on a field of black.
Strange Encounters: I could still smell the smoke, it burned my eyes and throat. I could still feel the heat of the fire, warming the back of my neck. But I could see neither. The orange glow of the flames was missing, and although the world around me was cast in unbroken shades of grey, it was a constant, uniform thing, devoid of smoke's hazy movements. It would have been a much more unsettling experience, but at the time I could only think of Benedict's body lying at my feet. From beyond my visions, shadowy figures moved in the darkness, swirling around the two of us. I could not put words to the terror that struck me, but I could not let these things take him from me. I snatched up my brother's sword and flailed madly at them. The steel passed cleanly through their spectral forms with nary a ripple. It was then that I noticed another figure silently observing the tableau from afar. It was impossible to determine anything about the figure beneath the heavy cloak that obscured its form, but it did not seem immediately threatening. I started to call out, but the words caught in my throat. Still, I seemed to draw the form's attention as it turned towards me, revealing only more shadows hidden within its hood. Suddenly it raised one grey hand towards the circling specters and they began to dissolve in front of my eyes. I gaped openly, and it nodded at me once before fading away itself as color returned to the world around me.

Since then, I have caught glimpses of the same cloaked being walking beside me or following at a distance, but never speaking. It often accompanies my visions, heralding their appearance or trying to warn me, I cannot tell. Is it leading me to places where the walls between worlds have thinned? Or is it causing these experiences? Either way, I am clearly touched by this entity in some measure that I do not understand. When I sleep, a sigil floats before my eyes of a dark portal and a bright, golden key. I have taken to calling it 'the Gatekeeper', and although I cannot tell you how or why, but it is clear that I have become its creature to some unknown end.

Characters: VerdigrisGwarcMincemeatDel CorganIris KetteringCaleb ShawOtis von Hoyt

Last edited by hafrogman; 10-02-2019 at 12:14 PM.
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