Im an amateur currently but I want to start a *real* campaign. I have a good understanding but will still have questions. I have the dice app, and google most info online. I am committed to finishing a campaign. COVID has freed my schedule considerably. Below is my ridiculously long character story if you feel like reading. (I told you I’ve been bored over quarantine) If you want to DM or join this character, let’s get this started...
email at marceldgaines@gmail.com
My brothers and I war torn apart, separated into this dark world. Maybe not brother by blood, but whoever you choose to stand by you in conflict is family. My family was taken from me. The beginning of this story is dark, but is just that: the beginning.
Everything began with my famous father Garrnarr, a true Orc Hero. But a hero
to orcs is often a villain to the other races... Garrnarr was just that. His pale Orc skin, which looked thicker than most, was riddled in scars. He always wore this devilish grin as if he were ready to add a few more war tatters onto his body. Once his eyes were set on a mark, no village, caravan, nor fort was safe. This fact was well known amongst elves, who Garrnarr especially hated. As cunning with his mind as he was graceful with an axe, this was a rare thing in his kind. You would’ve thought some human blood in his veins by his accomplishments, until seeing his strong, full blooded or orcish features in person. Garrnarr has his heart set on more than battle, riches, and plunder, which he excelled at. He wanted a permanent legacy and ventured far and wide in search which lead him to the Grey Vale area.
Lagertha, My mother, was a dark skinned human native to the Grey Vale area. A warden charged with protecting her area which she did ferociously. It was an unyielding defense of her area that first drew Garrnarr’s eye. Her beauty and grace in battle completely eclipsed her slaughtering of his troops.
Garrnarr, in a successful courting attempt, vowed only to attack Lagertha’s enemies. This led to a powerful Orc/human alliance in that area. It boosted both sides. Humans seemed to have their fighting force increase with these new Orc companions while these previous Orc raiders now have a new homeland and base of operations. Orcs still brought most of their riches in from raiding and looting enemies while the humans began focusing on growing a local plant, special for tea. This tea made them a lot of money. Still a large population of the natives disliked “welcoming this Orc menace to stay”.
The greatest thing to come from this union was Shotar (my character). The half Orc was the legacy his father always wanted. Raised and schooled by his tender and social mother, but trained by his famous battle hardened, military father, Shotar truly felt to be the best of both worlds. Not with the disdain of elves most his people had, even though his father is still infamous in the elven community. Easily able to enter conflict of any sort due to his Orc blood.
Shotar loves fighting and creating fame through pillaging but he truly enjoyed the moments when the army was wintering and resting as well. When there were times to rest, he enjoyed farming and tending to his plants. He often slept in the fields, surrounded by his plants, wishing he could talk to them. He even found ways to grow his plants during winter, which caught on with other local farmers, making food and profits in winter easier to come by. A warrior and farmer both, Shotar made enemies. Some orcs scoffed at his love of plants.
Orcs from far and wide came to join Shotar. Many different banners with tough orc among them. The orcs that came to be his generals, friends, and brothers were Savek, Dawenk, Omak. Dawenk was the biggest Orc you had ever seen, guaranteed... Omak led a group of orcs, famous for their guile and ability to get jobs done, even without honor. And Savek was the exception to the saying “never meet your heroes” because he lived up to any tale you may have heard about him. These were Shotar’s chosen family, especially after Time had taken his parents long ago.
One day, Omak summoned all his brothers just outside town, to warm them of terrible news and treachery among them. These 4 Orc generals had hundreds of orcs gathered beneath their command, under many different banners. Omak warned that one of their newest and upcoming factions , the Blind Bladers, were plotting to betray Shotar’s command. Before the conversation among the 4 got deep, a blinding flash of light came from town and the generals took off running to investigate.
The commotion came from Shotar’s estate. Omak dashed quickly and was the first one to make it through the front doors into the home, leaving behind all his normal tactics of stealth or trickery. Before any of the other generals could make it inside the doors, Gorkjeg; the leader of the Blind Bladers came out with a sword to Omak’s throat. The other 3 generals paused at the sight of their brother being held hostage at the doorway... How did he best Omak so quickly? No matter. It is a 3v1 and our loyal men are surely coming to investigate these noises.
“This is pointless, Gorkjeg, there is nowhere to run.” Said Shotar with his axe pointed.
It was in this moment time seemed to slow.
Gorkjeg replied “Who is running? I like it here”.
With a quick motion Gorkjeg removed Omak’s head from his body and kicked the corpse towards the remaining 3 Orc generals. Dawenk, the biggest among them, charged in a rage, with a two handed axe in each hand. With a speed never seen by any of the Orc generals, Gorkjeg closed the space between Dawenk and in a single motion severed his left arm.
After sharing a look and nod Shotar and Savek, knew they must be careful now and use this 2v1 advantage. Shotar and Savek both move to opposite sides of Gorkjeg. They had to ignore for the moment of how 2/4 their best, their generals, were beaten so easily... Both our generals swing at Gorkjeg at the same time and there is a flash of white light.
Shotar awakens to a sword impaled from his stomach and kneeling in a line next to Dawenk and Savek. Gorkjeg is standing, one foot atop Omak’s headless body, addressing Shotar’s Orc army. The army, showing no signs of any anger, is almost roaring with cheers. Many still chanting Shotar’s name. Gorkjeg brings out his game of chance, to decide what to do with the 3 remaining generals and hype the crowd even further.
Dawenk was kneeled first in line. An arrow was fired at the medieval looking board game. “Slavery!” the first arrow hit. It took 4 orcs to barely pull Dawenk to his feet begrudgingly. He was too proud to beg and silently was drug away to a wagon, out of sight...
Savek was next and asked his men if their minds were theirs as they cheered waiting for his judgement. They did not answer, only chanting like a mob. The arrow was fired... Exile! There was a long sizzle as they branded Savek’s face. They loaded him on the back of a giant carrier pigeon to one of our trading colonies far away. When they receive an exile, they’ll surely throw him out in some far way, foreign region... Off I see his ride fly. All I know is Savek was sent West.
The last arrow was fired. Buried alive! Gorkjeg said is a sarcastic voice, “now you can be with your plants all the time!” Shotar let the guards led hi’ toward his burial sight, knowing it was on a cliff. Once close enough, Shotar taps into his remaining strength to send a powerful head butted to the guard at his flank and lets himself fall over the ledge. Already injured and bleeding out, anywhere is better than here he thought, as he rolled and tumbled down this cliff as if chasing a cheese wheel.
Down river he floated for awhile until a strange cloaked figure pulled him from the current. Shotar woke by a campfire, accompanied by this figure. He could feel the presence was warm, and his wound had been treated by magic no less. He thanked the stranger for their actions.
“I knew you’d recover.” said the cloaked woman.
Shotar could tell it was a woman’s presence. He could sense the magic coming off of her with all his senses. The magical pressure radiating from the figure seems to warms your chest. You can smellan earthy sweet flower like aroma. You could almost taste a homemade cookie with nuts just by being near this cloaked figure. Her entire presences was warm, welcoming, and magical. The voice sounded wise and the robes were silver traced with black. He wondered how the robes were so pristine on this figure in the middle of this thick forest.
“Here, have some of this tea!” the figure said excitedly.
“This is my tea! I’m glad you like it!” Shotar proudly exclaimed.
“Are you sure? How do you know this is your* tea?” the figure questioned.
“Come on, I know this fragrance anywhere! I’m sure this is my Autumn blend! You must try this one with a really good sweet honey! It makes all the difference I promise!” Shotar rambled. He caught himself at the end knowing how easily he can get over excited talking about his gardening and craft...
Shotar strangely could tell the cloaked figure was smiling, even without seeing her face.
The Figure reaches into her cloak and pulled a small vail of honey to add to the two cups of tea.
She groaned as she agreed that the honey made a noticeable difference.
They spoke awhile about how the half Orc got his love of plants. He told her about his upbringing and how he learned to grow certain crops through winter. He even told her about how he often wished he could speak to his plants. Something he definitely never told other orcs. He was very open with this stranger for reasons unknown...
Shotar asked what this clearly magical cloaked figure was doing so close to his homeland. Shotar had beautiful forests around the Grey Vale but nothing that he thought would interest whoever this was...
The aura got very serious following this question.
“I am here as a result of a magical phenomenon that took place close by. Incredible amounts of arcane and illusion magic and trinkets were activated not long ago.” explained the figure.
Shotar thought about his recent turmoil and explained his recent tragedy. The more he explained, the more Gorkjeg and his uprising made sense. Illusion magic would explain his loyal soldiers actions and how his generals were bested so easily. The Figure agreed this made sense. There was definitely strong ancient magics involved in this betrayal.
Shotar’s father, Garrnarr had collected a vast vault full of elvish artifacts and powerful trinkets from his constant ruthless raids on their people. Some serious elven strongholds fell to his father’s cunning. It would be completely possible for someone to arm themselves with these tools and do harm! Shotar was enraged by his overlooking of something so critical.
“What will you do now?” asked Shotar.
“If there is as much magical weaponry in there as you say, I should not go in by myself just yet. What will you* do now?” Replied the figure
Shotar stunned by the question did not know what to do next... Well he had his two remaining brothers that must be found, but searching blindly could take the rest of his life with no success. And he could not leave Gorkjeg in charge of his men... He explained this to the Figure. Shotar still not even able to stand up straight yet from his previous wounds.
The figure stood up with her hands on her hips. She reached in her cloak and pulled a vial containing a shimmering swirling liquid. She instructed Shotar to drink it.
When Shotar asked what it was, she replied “Your Destiny”.
The Figure Explained -
“Drink this. Never shy away from your love of plants. They need a champion. Continue to learn because they will be your strength.
Find the oldest wood elf and convince her to teach you the Truth of Plants in her secret garden. She will give you a key to your strength.
Next delve down into the darkness with the Drow. Thalmior is a sinister Drow sorcerer with meticulous notes. Brave his laboratory and take his notes for our enemies’ weaknesses.
Lastly, mend broken bridges with the Royal High elves for a divine magic the land hasn’t seen in century.
By this time, we you should have unlocked your final form, and Gorkjeg will stand no chance againstthe new Shotar”
Shotar trustingly chugged the potion. He watched the room spin. He seemed to lift off the floor and rise towards the sky. Everything blurred together as he awoken some time later.
He stood up, completely healed, not knowing if it were the potion or time passing that did the deed. He called out “Hello!” expecting the Figure to reply. “Hello!” Shotar screamed again.
“*sigh* yea... could you keep it down please” -unknown
“Who is that?” Asked Shotar?
“Me...” replied a tree.
“....” -Shotar
Shotar thought the potion’s effects hadn’t worn off yet... He started to back away.
“Yup. The usual. Bye! Have a nice life!” The tree began to rant frustrated...
“What’s up with you? Why is an Oak tree angry? And WHY* am I talking to a tree?!” Shotar questioned.
“First off, I’m a Brazilian Walnut tree! There isn’t an Oak for kilometers! And I was not angry til you profiled me! I was just irritated at best” Replied the tree
“Okay... why were you irritated?” Asked Shotar.
The tree explained how even tho the forest could talk with each other, he was annoyed having to watch creatures crawl, walk, and fly while he had roots. He constantly thought how unfair not to be born a mammal or something of the sort...
Shotar made a deal with this tree to make him into a beautiful living shield. He could not only get to travel, but even help fight in the exploits to come. The tree delighted in this idea. This helped Shotar because the potion he drank earlier took him far away from his Grey Vale home. The tree/shield companion came in handy learning his new land since all the trees speak to each other. Not to mention it randomly spits out walnuts.
Shotar roamed the wilds for weeks. Speaking to plants and learning. He rarely ate meat, since he could hear their cries now. And all the tears made his food taste very salty which he did not enjoy. This low meat diet reduced his Orc physical strength. He would often fight fierce creatures however, with the unspoken rule, that loser is dinner. One trophy is a Silver and Black board head Shotar wears as a shoulder guard.
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LFG - LFP -LFDM
Aim 2-3 matches weekly
Preferred Time: Evening/Night/Late Night
Welcome To New Players
Im an amateur currently but I want to start a *real* campaign. I have a good understanding but will still have questions. I have the dice app, and google most info online. I am committed to finishing a campaign. COVID has freed my schedule considerably. Below is my ridiculously long character story if you feel like reading. (I told you I’ve been bored over quarantine) If you want to DM or join this character, let’s get this started...
email at marceldgaines@gmail.com
My brothers and I war torn apart, separated into this dark world. Maybe not brother by blood, but whoever you choose to stand by you in conflict is family. My family was taken from me. The beginning of this story is dark, but is just that: the beginning.
Everything began with my famous father Garrnarr, a true Orc Hero. But a hero
to orcs is often a villain to the other races... Garrnarr was just that. His pale Orc skin, which looked thicker than most, was riddled in scars. He always wore this devilish grin as if he were ready to add a few more war tatters onto his body. Once his eyes were set on a mark, no village, caravan, nor fort was safe. This fact was well known amongst elves, who Garrnarr especially hated. As cunning with his mind as he was graceful with an axe, this was a rare thing in his kind. You would’ve thought some human blood in his veins by his accomplishments, until seeing his strong, full blooded or orcish features in person. Garrnarr has his heart set on more than battle, riches, and plunder, which he excelled at. He wanted a permanent legacy and ventured far and wide in search which lead him to the Grey Vale area.
Lagertha, My mother, was a dark skinned human native to the Grey Vale area. A warden charged with protecting her area which she did ferociously. It was an unyielding defense of her area that first drew Garrnarr’s eye. Her beauty and grace in battle completely eclipsed her slaughtering of his troops.
Garrnarr, in a successful courting attempt, vowed only to attack Lagertha’s enemies. This led to a powerful Orc/human alliance in that area. It boosted both sides. Humans seemed to have their fighting force increase with these new Orc companions while these previous Orc raiders now have a new homeland and base of operations. Orcs still brought most of their riches in from raiding and looting enemies while the humans began focusing on growing a local plant, special for tea. This tea made them a lot of money. Still a large population of the natives disliked “welcoming this Orc menace to stay”.
The greatest thing to come from this union was Shotar (my character). The half Orc was the legacy his father always wanted. Raised and schooled by his tender and social mother, but trained by his famous battle hardened, military father, Shotar truly felt to be the best of both worlds. Not with the disdain of elves most his people had, even though his father is still infamous in the elven community. Easily able to enter conflict of any sort due to his Orc blood.
Shotar loves fighting and creating fame through pillaging but he truly enjoyed the moments when the army was wintering and resting as well. When there were times to rest, he enjoyed farming and tending to his plants. He often slept in the fields, surrounded by his plants, wishing he could talk to them. He even found ways to grow his plants during winter, which caught on with other local farmers, making food and profits in winter easier to come by. A warrior and farmer both, Shotar made enemies. Some orcs scoffed at his love of plants.
Orcs from far and wide came to join Shotar. Many different banners with tough orc among them. The orcs that came to be his generals, friends, and brothers were Savek, Dawenk, Omak. Dawenk was the biggest Orc you had ever seen, guaranteed... Omak led a group of orcs, famous for their guile and ability to get jobs done, even without honor. And Savek was the exception to the saying “never meet your heroes” because he lived up to any tale you may have heard about him. These were Shotar’s chosen family, especially after Time had taken his parents long ago.
One day, Omak summoned all his brothers just outside town, to warm them of terrible news and treachery among them. These 4 Orc generals had hundreds of orcs gathered beneath their command, under many different banners. Omak warned that one of their newest and upcoming factions , the Blind Bladers, were plotting to betray Shotar’s command. Before the conversation among the 4 got deep, a blinding flash of light came from town and the generals took off running to investigate.
The commotion came from Shotar’s estate. Omak dashed quickly and was the first one to make it through the front doors into the home, leaving behind all his normal tactics of stealth or trickery. Before any of the other generals could make it inside the doors, Gorkjeg; the leader of the Blind Bladers came out with a sword to Omak’s throat. The other 3 generals paused at the sight of their brother being held hostage at the doorway... How did he best Omak so quickly? No matter. It is a 3v1 and our loyal men are surely coming to investigate these noises.
“This is pointless, Gorkjeg, there is nowhere to run.” Said Shotar with his axe pointed.
It was in this moment time seemed to slow.
Gorkjeg replied “Who is running? I like it here”.
With a quick motion Gorkjeg removed Omak’s head from his body and kicked the corpse towards the remaining 3 Orc generals. Dawenk, the biggest among them, charged in a rage, with a two handed axe in each hand. With a speed never seen by any of the Orc generals, Gorkjeg closed the space between Dawenk and in a single motion severed his left arm.
After sharing a look and nod Shotar and Savek, knew they must be careful now and use this 2v1 advantage. Shotar and Savek both move to opposite sides of Gorkjeg. They had to ignore for the moment of how 2/4 their best, their generals, were beaten so easily... Both our generals swing at Gorkjeg at the same time and there is a flash of white light.
Shotar awakens to a sword impaled from his stomach and kneeling in a line next to Dawenk and Savek. Gorkjeg is standing, one foot atop Omak’s headless body, addressing Shotar’s Orc army. The army, showing no signs of any anger, is almost roaring with cheers. Many still chanting Shotar’s name. Gorkjeg brings out his game of chance, to decide what to do with the 3 remaining generals and hype the crowd even further.
Dawenk was kneeled first in line. An arrow was fired at the medieval looking board game. “Slavery!” the first arrow hit. It took 4 orcs to barely pull Dawenk to his feet begrudgingly. He was too proud to beg and silently was drug away to a wagon, out of sight...
Savek was next and asked his men if their minds were theirs as they cheered waiting for his judgement. They did not answer, only chanting like a mob. The arrow was fired... Exile! There was a long sizzle as they branded Savek’s face. They loaded him on the back of a giant carrier pigeon to one of our trading colonies far away. When they receive an exile, they’ll surely throw him out in some far way, foreign region... Off I see his ride fly. All I know is Savek was sent West.
The last arrow was fired. Buried alive! Gorkjeg said is a sarcastic voice, “now you can be with your plants all the time!” Shotar let the guards led hi’ toward his burial sight, knowing it was on a cliff. Once close enough, Shotar taps into his remaining strength to send a powerful head butted to the guard at his flank and lets himself fall over the ledge. Already injured and bleeding out, anywhere is better than here he thought, as he rolled and tumbled down this cliff as if chasing a cheese wheel.
Down river he floated for awhile until a strange cloaked figure pulled him from the current. Shotar woke by a campfire, accompanied by this figure. He could feel the presence was warm, and his wound had been treated by magic no less. He thanked the stranger for their actions.
“I knew you’d recover.” said the cloaked woman.
Shotar could tell it was a woman’s presence. He could sense the magic coming off of her with all his senses. The magical pressure radiating from the figure seems to warms your chest. You can smell an earthy sweet flower like aroma. You could almost taste a homemade cookie with nuts just by being near this cloaked figure. Her entire presences was warm, welcoming, and magical. The voice sounded wise and the robes were silver traced with black. He wondered how the robes were so pristine on this figure in the middle of this thick forest.
“Here, have some of this tea!” the figure said excitedly.
“This is my tea! I’m glad you like it!” Shotar proudly exclaimed.
“Are you sure? How do you know this is your* tea?” the figure questioned.
“Come on, I know this fragrance anywhere! I’m sure this is my Autumn blend! You must try this one with a really good sweet honey! It makes all the difference I promise!” Shotar rambled. He caught himself at the end knowing how easily he can get over excited talking about his gardening and craft...
Shotar strangely could tell the cloaked figure was smiling, even without seeing her face.
The Figure reaches into her cloak and pulled a small vail of honey to add to the two cups of tea.
She groaned as she agreed that the honey made a noticeable difference.
They spoke awhile about how the half Orc got his love of plants. He told her about his upbringing and how he learned to grow certain crops through winter. He even told her about how he often wished he could speak to his plants. Something he definitely never told other orcs. He was very open with this stranger for reasons unknown...
Shotar asked what this clearly magical cloaked figure was doing so close to his homeland. Shotar had beautiful forests around the Grey Vale but nothing that he thought would interest whoever this was...
The aura got very serious following this question.
“I am here as a result of a magical phenomenon that took place close by. Incredible amounts of arcane and illusion magic and trinkets were activated not long ago.” explained the figure.
Shotar thought about his recent turmoil and explained his recent tragedy. The more he explained, the more Gorkjeg and his uprising made sense. Illusion magic would explain his loyal soldiers actions and how his generals were bested so easily. The Figure agreed this made sense. There was definitely strong ancient magics involved in this betrayal.
Shotar’s father, Garrnarr had collected a vast vault full of elvish artifacts and powerful trinkets from his constant ruthless raids on their people. Some serious elven strongholds fell to his father’s cunning. It would be completely possible for someone to arm themselves with these tools and do harm! Shotar was enraged by his overlooking of something so critical.
“What will you do now?” asked Shotar.
“If there is as much magical weaponry in there as you say, I should not go in by myself just yet. What will you* do now?” Replied the figure
Shotar stunned by the question did not know what to do next... Well he had his two remaining brothers that must be found, but searching blindly could take the rest of his life with no success. And he could not leave Gorkjeg in charge of his men... He explained this to the Figure. Shotar still not even able to stand up straight yet from his previous wounds.
The figure stood up with her hands on her hips. She reached in her cloak and pulled a vial containing a shimmering swirling liquid. She instructed Shotar to drink it.
When Shotar asked what it was, she replied “Your Destiny”.
The Figure Explained -
“Drink this. Never shy away from your love of plants. They need a champion. Continue to learn because they will be your strength.
Find the oldest wood elf and convince her to teach you the Truth of Plants in her secret garden. She will give you a key to your strength.
Next delve down into the darkness with the Drow. Thalmior is a sinister Drow sorcerer with meticulous notes. Brave his laboratory and take his notes for our enemies’ weaknesses.
Lastly, mend broken bridges with the Royal High elves for a divine magic the land hasn’t seen in century.
By this time, we you should have unlocked your final form, and Gorkjeg will stand no chance againstthe new Shotar”
Shotar trustingly chugged the potion. He watched the room spin. He seemed to lift off the floor and rise towards the sky. Everything blurred together as he awoken some time later.
He stood up, completely healed, not knowing if it were the potion or time passing that did the deed. He called out “Hello!” expecting the Figure to reply. “Hello!” Shotar screamed again.
“*sigh* yea... could you keep it down please” -unknown
“Who is that?” Asked Shotar?
“Me...” replied a tree.
“....” -Shotar
Shotar thought the potion’s effects hadn’t worn off yet... He started to back away.
“Yup. The usual. Bye! Have a nice life!” The tree began to rant frustrated...
“What’s up with you? Why is an Oak tree angry? And WHY* am I talking to a tree?!” Shotar questioned.
“First off, I’m a Brazilian Walnut tree! There isn’t an Oak for kilometers! And I was not angry til you profiled me! I was just irritated at best” Replied the tree
“Okay... why were you irritated?” Asked Shotar.
The tree explained how even tho the forest could talk with each other, he was annoyed having to watch creatures crawl, walk, and fly while he had roots. He constantly thought how unfair not to be born a mammal or something of the sort...
Shotar made a deal with this tree to make him into a beautiful living shield. He could not only get to travel, but even help fight in the exploits to come. The tree delighted in this idea. This helped Shotar because the potion he drank earlier took him far away from his Grey Vale home. The tree/shield companion came in handy learning his new land since all the trees speak to each other. Not to mention it randomly spits out walnuts.
Shotar roamed the wilds for weeks. Speaking to plants and learning. He rarely ate meat, since he could hear their cries now. And all the tears made his food taste very salty which he did not enjoy. This low meat diet reduced his Orc physical strength. He would often fight fierce creatures however, with the unspoken rule, that loser is dinner. One trophy is a Silver and Black board head Shotar wears as a shoulder guard.