Hail adventurers! A dark time has befallen us, and a great evil mist has fallen, dragging the unwary into a terrible, dark land. There, the people cry out for a savior, will you answer the call?
Calling on adventurers to start a campaign in the region of Barovia, and dealing with the evil in the mists.! The call is for the brave at heart, willing to venture forth into the unknown.. Are you willing?
This is a campaign, beginning at 1st level going to Ravenloft. All character classes and races accepted, even those from the Van Richter's guide to Ravenloft, will be accepted. Its Halloween, why not head to land of vampires and werewolves, and see what you can do?
I would like to join as well. I'll get the backstory in shortly. Just want to get this in there.
Name: Valdryn Perkalyn
Race: Half-elf
Class: Cleric - War Domain
Backstory: Duality. There are enough examples of good vs. evil to fill an ocean with tales of woe. I was a city dweller in my youth. Not particularly prosperous but it did well for it self. Most of the citizens were well meaning and always willing to lend a hand. There was the usual riff-raff, nothing that couldn't be handled by the guards.
My folks were merchants. Trading goods with all sorts of folks that came through. Being upstanding folks, everything was above board. Then hard times befell the region. They took to dealing with "grey" market items to help make ends meet. The line kept getting more and more blurred as time went on. I heard my parents speaking a funny language, which they taught me as I was their "hired help" and needed to know what was happening. Undercommon was something I learned fairly early. Those families that were doing well were started getting threats from outsiders. Anyone who seemed to be doing well was a target. My parents were good with people on both sides of the coin.
It was around this time that I felt a pull, a calling I suppose. As I was getting older, I was starting to see the inner workings that my parents tried to hide. The city wasn't as maintained as it used to be. There were more and more people hanging around, begging for whatever they could get. Scraps, leftovers, whatever. I wanted to help them but had a duty to my parents. I would buy some bread and help feed some of the children that were desperate for food. It wasn't much but I felt good about doing it.
It wasn't long before the outside influence reared its ugly head. My parents don't know but I heard they were being leaned on pretty hard to join this "Guild". It was more of a cartel, really. One morning when they went to their space in the market, a group of brigands were waiting for my parents. They ended up being beaten pretty badly and forced to give up their space in the market. It was that or die. Pretty simple choice in their mind. I was devastated. I was angry for them. The injuries sustained by my parents were significant. They end up being cared for by the nuns in a nearby convent. I couldn't properly care for them.
That's when I struck out on my own. The calling I felt was still there but it was different. I still wanted to help people but the definition of help changed. Some people don't just need food. They need protection. After some wandering, I found a place to worship whose deity wasn't Life or Nature. It was War. Duality. Helping others through force. Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum
Backstory: Helena was born into one of the many traveling bands of Vistanti, growing up traveling the domain's of dread in a Vardo. Like her mother and other women of their people, the young Helena was gifted with seemingly prophetic abilities, being taught to use the Taoroka did from a young age. In order to earn money when they passed through towns, she and her mother would perform readings for those that could pay for it.
Due to showing a gift for seemingly being able to talk to the spirits that walked the domain's of dread, Helena was soon taught ways to interact with them when the times were right, this being used to make more money for her and the others. This life did not hold much interest for the Helena as she became a teenager though and she runaway from her mother and the other Vistani as they traveled between the domains of dread. Ever since she had made her way by reading fortunes or using other things she learned to play as a traveling minstrel.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Hello! I haven't done a PbP on here yet, but I'm very interested in trying it out and this seems like the perfect starting point.
Character Name: Hope
Race: Half-Orc
Class: Barbarian (Zealot)
Background: Outlander
Backstory: Hope was born to a human mother taken as a trophy by his Orc father on one of his tribe's many raiding expeditions. His mother, herself gifted with a small semblance of divine power, never gave in to despair. Although living as little more than a slave, she named her only son Hope, determined to never let go of her dreams of a better life. From the moment he was born, his mother knew he was destined for some great purpose, and her passion instilled the same belief in him. Although looked down upon for being only half orc, his tribe was more concerned with strength and the will to fight, which came naturally to Hope. His natural aptitude in combat impressed his father, and he was soon respected as a fully fledged member of the tribe. However, he still felt the call within him. The call to some greater purpose. And despite the acceptance of the tribe, a hate grew within him day by day, soon igniting into a full rage. He hated his tribe. He hated the evil they visited upon the land. And most of all, he hated his father for his treatment of the only good Hope had ever experienced in his life: his mother. And then he saw it in a dream, and he knew. He could kill his father. He was stronger, he was sure of it. He honed his rage into determination, and once he caught his father unguarded while bathing, he set upon him. But life is not a dream, and one young boy who knows only anger yet calls it hope has no chance against a veteran orc raider. In retaliation, his father slew his mother right in front of his eyes, and banished Hope to the wilderness, fully expecting him to be devoured by wolves, or worse. But Hope survived, and even thrived on his own. He had some sort of innate sense of how to get by, of what was edible, of where to go; almost as if he was being guided by an unseen hand. And the dreams never stopped. Dreams of a great purpose, of something he was destined to do, of something some great power was pushing him toward. So he kept following his intuition and dreams, visiting many lands and learning many things, and always looking for the good he could visit upon those he met. And then the mist came, and he felt the call.
I grew up in Richemulot, in the dark and hidden in the shadows. I didn't know my mother, but learned over time what happened to her. My _father_ (if you want to call him that) forced himself on my mother Sydnae and drained her to within an inch of death, and raped her. He brought her back to his lair out of ? curiosity, love? I have no idea, I thought the bastard was heartless, so it must have been curiosity. I was born from that unholy union and she died in the process. I was set out in the woods to survive and I don't know how I did, I have no memory of that. Never had a childhood really. It was all about survival, taking what I needed to survive and growing stronger in the process.
Eventually I made my way back to the city and survived off others, always in the night, hidden from sight. Sometimes I would feed of off the actual dreams of people in town, and sometimes I would need to feed on their actual lifeblood. I have learned of the dreams and desires of my fellow citizens. And what they fear in the recesses of their mind. I hate what I have become. And I am determined to hunt down the one who made me like this, and his kind. The skills I have helped me to survive, but they are also a curse. I learned how to disguise myself, live among the people of Richemulot, hide my true identity. I learned how to use a crossbow, how to track and hunt in the woods. At times I feel that I have caught brief glimpses of one like my father, a vampire, but they were fleeting. Were they watching me? Toying with me? "Vorenus, are you there?" No answer. I have learned who he is, but not where he lives. Lucky for him.
I learned about fellow adventurers in Barovia, secret gatherings, and one night I walked in on one such clandestine meetings. Their purpose and mine are the same. Once they saw my skills and heard my passion, my quest, they were glad to have me join.
They have sent me to meet up with a group to look into these matters in Barovia, the evil forces that are perpetuating this calamity. I live to put a giant stake into the heart of the one who brought me into this world. He and his kind need to be eradicated from the world. Now I have friends who can help me in this task.
Hail adventurers! A dark time has befallen us, and a great evil mist has fallen, dragging the unwary into a terrible, dark land. There, the people cry out for a savior, will you answer the call?
Calling on adventurers to start a campaign in the region of Barovia, and dealing with the evil in the mists.! The call is for the brave at heart, willing to venture forth into the unknown.. Are you willing?
This is a campaign, beginning at 1st level going to Ravenloft. All character classes and races accepted, even those from the Van Richter's guide to Ravenloft, will be accepted. Its Halloween, why not head to land of vampires and werewolves, and see what you can do?
Interested too! Tiefling Ranger. Generating a character now. New to the play-by-post system and re-learned D&D after a 20 year break. 😬
I would like to join as well. I'll get the backstory in shortly. Just want to get this in there.
Backstory: Duality. There are enough examples of good vs. evil to fill an ocean with tales of woe. I was a city dweller in my youth. Not particularly prosperous but it did well for it self. Most of the citizens were well meaning and always willing to lend a hand. There was the usual riff-raff, nothing that couldn't be handled by the guards.
My folks were merchants. Trading goods with all sorts of folks that came through. Being upstanding folks, everything was above board. Then hard times befell the region. They took to dealing with "grey" market items to help make ends meet. The line kept getting more and more blurred as time went on. I heard my parents speaking a funny language, which they taught me as I was their "hired help" and needed to know what was happening. Undercommon was something I learned fairly early. Those families that were doing well were started getting threats from outsiders. Anyone who seemed to be doing well was a target. My parents were good with people on both sides of the coin.
It was around this time that I felt a pull, a calling I suppose. As I was getting older, I was starting to see the inner workings that my parents tried to hide. The city wasn't as maintained as it used to be. There were more and more people hanging around, begging for whatever they could get. Scraps, leftovers, whatever. I wanted to help them but had a duty to my parents. I would buy some bread and help feed some of the children that were desperate for food. It wasn't much but I felt good about doing it.
It wasn't long before the outside influence reared its ugly head. My parents don't know but I heard they were being leaned on pretty hard to join this "Guild". It was more of a cartel, really. One morning when they went to their space in the market, a group of brigands were waiting for my parents. They ended up being beaten pretty badly and forced to give up their space in the market. It was that or die. Pretty simple choice in their mind. I was devastated. I was angry for them. The injuries sustained by my parents were significant. They end up being cared for by the nuns in a nearby convent. I couldn't properly care for them.
That's when I struck out on my own. The calling I felt was still there but it was different. I still wanted to help people but the definition of help changed. Some people don't just need food. They need protection. After some wandering, I found a place to worship whose deity wasn't Life or Nature. It was War. Duality. Helping others through force. Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum
Valdryn Perkalyn - War Domain Cleric 2
Interested as well.
Name: 'Madam' Helena
Race: Variant Human
Class: Bard (Spirits)
Background: Far Traveler
Backstory: Helena was born into one of the many traveling bands of Vistanti, growing up traveling the domain's of dread in a Vardo. Like her mother and other women of their people, the young Helena was gifted with seemingly prophetic abilities, being taught to use the Taoroka did from a young age. In order to earn money when they passed through towns, she and her mother would perform readings for those that could pay for it.
Due to showing a gift for seemingly being able to talk to the spirits that walked the domain's of dread, Helena was soon taught ways to interact with them when the times were right, this being used to make more money for her and the others. This life did not hold much interest for the Helena as she became a teenager though and she runaway from her mother and the other Vistani as they traveled between the domains of dread. Ever since she had made her way by reading fortunes or using other things she learned to play as a traveling minstrel.
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
Welcome! Here is the link: https://ddb.ac/campaigns/join/23774774197395236
Hello! I haven't done a PbP on here yet, but I'm very interested in trying it out and this seems like the perfect starting point.
Character Name: Hope
Race: Half-Orc
Class: Barbarian (Zealot)
Background: Outlander
Backstory: Hope was born to a human mother taken as a trophy by his Orc father on one of his tribe's many raiding expeditions. His mother, herself gifted with a small semblance of divine power, never gave in to despair. Although living as little more than a slave, she named her only son Hope, determined to never let go of her dreams of a better life. From the moment he was born, his mother knew he was destined for some great purpose, and her passion instilled the same belief in him.
Although looked down upon for being only half orc, his tribe was more concerned with strength and the will to fight, which came naturally to Hope. His natural aptitude in combat impressed his father, and he was soon respected as a fully fledged member of the tribe. However, he still felt the call within him. The call to some greater purpose. And despite the acceptance of the tribe, a hate grew within him day by day, soon igniting into a full rage. He hated his tribe. He hated the evil they visited upon the land. And most of all, he hated his father for his treatment of the only good Hope had ever experienced in his life: his mother.
And then he saw it in a dream, and he knew. He could kill his father. He was stronger, he was sure of it. He honed his rage into determination, and once he caught his father unguarded while bathing, he set upon him.
But life is not a dream, and one young boy who knows only anger yet calls it hope has no chance against a veteran orc raider. In retaliation, his father slew his mother right in front of his eyes, and banished Hope to the wilderness, fully expecting him to be devoured by wolves, or worse. But Hope survived, and even thrived on his own. He had some sort of innate sense of how to get by, of what was edible, of where to go; almost as if he was being guided by an unseen hand. And the dreams never stopped. Dreams of a great purpose, of something he was destined to do, of something some great power was pushing him toward.
So he kept following his intuition and dreams, visiting many lands and learning many things, and always looking for the good he could visit upon those he met.
And then the mist came, and he felt the call.
Welcome! Here is the link: https://ddb.ac/campaigns/join/23774774197395236
Do you have room for one more?
Character name : Boris Bettor
Race : Dhampir (was a half elf)
Class : Ranger
Background : Faceless
Background :
I was meant to have a better life than this.
I grew up in Richemulot, in the dark and hidden in the shadows. I didn't know my mother, but learned over time what happened to her. My _father_ (if you want to call him that) forced himself on my mother Sydnae and drained her to within an inch of death, and raped her. He brought her back to his lair out of ? curiosity, love? I have no idea, I thought the bastard was heartless, so it must have been curiosity. I was born from that unholy union and she died in the process. I was set out in the woods to survive and I don't know how I did, I have no memory of that. Never had a childhood really. It was all about survival, taking what I needed to survive and growing stronger in the process.
Eventually I made my way back to the city and survived off others, always in the night, hidden from sight. Sometimes I would feed of off the actual dreams of people in town, and sometimes I would need to feed on their actual lifeblood. I have learned of the dreams and desires of my fellow citizens. And what they fear in the recesses of their mind. I hate what I have become. And I am determined to hunt down the one who made me like this, and his kind. The skills I have helped me to survive, but they are also a curse. I learned how to disguise myself, live among the people of Richemulot, hide my true identity. I learned how to use a crossbow, how to track and hunt in the woods. At times I feel that I have caught brief glimpses of one like my father, a vampire, but they were fleeting. Were they watching me? Toying with me? "Vorenus, are you there?" No answer. I have learned who he is, but not where he lives. Lucky for him.
I learned about fellow adventurers in Barovia, secret gatherings, and one night I walked in on one such clandestine meetings. Their purpose and mine are the same. Once they saw my skills and heard my passion, my quest, they were glad to have me join.
They have sent me to meet up with a group to look into these matters in Barovia, the evil forces that are perpetuating this calamity. I live to put a giant stake into the heart of the one who brought me into this world. He and his kind need to be eradicated from the world. Now I have friends who can help me in this task.
Here is the link: https://ddb.ac/campaigns/join/237747741973952236
Let me know if this doesn't work