Im new to 5e but familiar with 3.5 and pathfinder. Played on roll20 and some pbp along with occasional live games. Want to try my hand at DMing a pbp only game. This will be a storydriven campaign. 0.5-1 Post a day, Im a busy student so might not have time to post everyday, but atleast everyother day! Expect longer posts and a heavy collaborative storytelling element.
Tendrils of Shadow is a homebrew campaign set in a world of relatively low magic and fantasy. Humans are plentiful, Elves are rare and stick to their own settlements in the deep woods. Dwarves and Gnomes live in mountains and trade with human settlements. Halflings are rather rare and stick to their own little homesteads.
Eldor is a vast and powerfull citystate that radiates influence on the surrounding regions. Ruled by a nefarious guild, Eldor seeks to broaden its hold. Some news of brutal bands of seekers harrasing settlements and taking away any possible magic users have reached the settlement of Tarok.
Tarok is small settlement in the far west. Nestled in the rolling hills against the vast mountains further west, all manner of characters and travelers live their lives. A peacefull tradepost town, where merchants can peddle their goods and stories and rumors can be heard in the taverns from travelers. By necessity a strong militia unit has been formed over the years, of volunteers to protect the town from occasional goblinoid raiding parties that venture down from the mountains.
A posting had been put up on the main advertisment board of Taroks town center;
"Seeking hardened and able-bodied persons to protect a shipment. Pay is generous, risk is high. Applicants welcomed at Office of Ralo and Sons."
This posting catches your eye..
Post your character concept. Any questions will be answered!
(1st level - Core material, will provide link to campaign with shared material for character creation once players chosen - Sell me your character concept)
Does core material mean just the free basic rules, the PHB-DMG-MM stuff or any official releases?
Anyways, I'd like to play a self-taught wizard. A former human urchin who pick-pocketed a spellbook and is eager to prove herself and become a powerful spellcaster like in the stories she heard.
Does core material mean just the free basic rules, the PHB-DMG-MM stuff or any official releases?
Anyways, I'd like to play a self-taught wizard. A former human urchin who pick-pocketed a spellbook and is eager to prove herself and become a powerful spellcaster like in the stories she heard.
PHB-DMG-MM stuff. Il post a link to the campaign for character creation and make a separate thread for the game once a promising selection of characters has shown themselves.
Appearance: Tall and wiry, with soft features. Short and shaggy black hair. Tanned skin, with small scars and scrapes all along his body.
Personality: I lie about almost everything, even when there’s no good reason to.
Ideal: Material goods come and go. Bonds of friendship last forever.
Bond: A powerful person killed someone I love. Someday soon, I’ll have my revenge.
Flaw: I’m convinced that no one could ever fool me the way I fool others.
Alignment: Neutral Good
Class: Rogue
Background: Charlatan
Character Concept (The Story Where I Thought Him Up):
If you were to ask anyone of the legend of Adalie Zaen, almost no one would know who you are talking about. However, if you go the right taverns at the right time, you might find a storyteller in the back almost begging people to listen to his tale. He will tell you of a legendary figure. A champion to all. He will tell the very true tale of a man who challenged an entire clan of orcs to fight and killed them all with his bare hands. He will tell you of a man who skewer a fruity fly to a tree with an arrow from 300 meters away… without killing it. He will tell you of a man who's sword skills are so extraordinary, that men would rather cut off their own hands then clash blades with him. He will tell you of a man whose wit and beauty are indefinable, how anyone who gazes upon him are immediately infatuated and cannot contain their love. He will tell you of a man whose honor and compassion are uncomparable and how he single handedly carried a blind, deaf, crippled, elderly, baby, woman who had glass bones and paper skin from her home village to another 500 miles away and back just to pick up some milk. Yes, he will tell you the incredibly true story of the heroic, handsome, strong, brave and charismatic Adalie Zaen
If you don’t leave halfway through this tale, and you have a keen eye, you might notice that the man telling you this tale has some suspicious similarities to the legendary Adalie Zaen. You could make the assumption that this is the true legend, though his eyes don't "sparkle as bright as the sea" and his face doesn’t appear to be “Molded after the gods themselves”. If you buy this man a few drinks, you might get to know more about the man behind legend. You might learn of a small farming family who never bothered anyone. You would learn that the father, a human by the name of Dasenn was born and raised a farmer, and how his kindness and compassion left many beggars with food in their bellies and a roof over their heads. You would learn of his wife, Aliesa an elven noble who fell in love with this simple man and wanted to live a simple life with him, away from the corruption and persecution of her lands. You would learn that they had two children together, a boy named Adalie and girl name Vesra. This man would smile as he spoke of Vesra, how she was always there for Adalie and always knew what to say to cheer him up. How she and her small cloth doll would play doctor on him when he got hurt. His smile would turn to a grimace as he spoke about the father of Aliesa and how he was disgusted between the union of his only daughter and some human peasant. How he and some of his men ransacked their farm. How the elf killed his father in cold blood, and his mother when she fought back. You would learn how Adalie escaped his bonds and ran. How he ran as Vesra screamed for his help. How he ran like a coward and hid for three days before finally returning to farm. How when he returned, he didn’t find his sister. The only thing left of his family that he found was his sister's cloth doll, and his mother's rapier. As this man clutches on old worn doll in his hands, he might tell you of how as he buried his parents, he promised that he would find her and make things right. He would make sure nothing hurt her ever again.
Adalie’s Backstory (More refined):
Adalie was born into a small farming family. His father, Dasenn, was a retired soldier who always invited tired and hungry travelers into their home. His mother, Aliesa, was an elven noble who had run away from her lands. When Dasenn found her cold and hungry, he brought her into his home and welcomed her to his table. They fell in love and along came Adalie and his younger sister Vesra. While Adalie was 5 years older than Vesra, they were inseparable. As soon as Vesra could walk, she would follow Adalie around the farm as he did his chores, and as they grew up they played together, worked together, and even began training with their parents together. For 10 years Adalie only knew happiness and peace, that was until his grandfather came to "visit" with his men. Adalie had never heard much of his Elven heritage and had only heard his mother talk about his grandfather once. It was long after Adalie was supposed to be in bed, but he heard his parents arguing, something that never happened. He only heard his father whisper, "No! Nindrol would never find us here. Your father doesn't know where you are, and he doesn't know where the kids are. We're safe here Aliesa." Adalie was only brave enough to hear that before he returned to bed in fear he would be caught.
On that day Dasenn strode out to confront Nindrol. He barely got a word out before Nindrol raised a hand and blasted him away. Adalie and Vesra heard the blast all the way out in the fields, they only gave each other a look before running back to their house. Their mother met them halfway, screaming for them to run. Before Adalie and Vesra could react, she was set upon by riders. They watched as she took down one, then 2, then 5. She was like a storm, but as the riders began to break off from her and ride towards her children, her focus faltered. Adalie and Vesra watched as a man drove a spear into their mother's back. Vesra screamed and Adalie just sank to his knees. The riders strung them up. Nindrol approached his eyes locked to the body of his daughter. When the soldier who killed her approached him with an explanation, Nindrol just looked at him, and the man was set ablaze. As the rest of the men recoiled in horror, Adalie shook his bonds and began running to the forest that surrounded their farm. He ran as Vesra called her help. He ran as he heard her crying and begging for him to come back. He abandoned his little sister. His responsibility, his only family left, and he just ran. He ran into the forest and didn't even look back. He hid there for 3 days before he had the bravery to return to his home. His house had already been reduced to ash, and Vesra was gone. The only things left of his family was his sisters old cloth doll, and his mother's rapier that was set atop a shallow grave dug for her. As Adalie buried his father, he promised his parents that he would be brave. That he would find Nindrol, and kill him. That he would save his sister, no matter what.
That plan, however, has been put off time and time again. At first it was because he was far too young, he knew he was far too weak to take down a mighty elven noble and however many guards or enforcers he kept around him. After he fell in with a young bard named Talira Lari, it was because he was training to become a grand storyteller. As she was teaching him how to weave and entrance an audience he knew that he didn't have time to set out on a grand adventure to take down a mighty elven house. Besides, he was only 12, what could he do now that he couldn't 2 years ago? So, Adalie trained and entertained thinking about his family, and his promise less and less often. After a few years under her guidance, Adalie once again set off alone, this time not on a quest for vengeance but to see the world and all of it's wonderful inhabitants. It was during these years he fell in with a young duelist named Eliza Zilizo and her retired smuggler father, Captain Jean. It is with this pair that he learned not only how to use his mother's blade properly, but how to earn a bit more coin through some... unorthodox methods. And though Adalie cared for the pair greatly, especially Eliza, he knew he could not settle down. He had an itch. He needed to keep moving.
It was during these days Adalie began to think more on the promise he made 8 years ago. More so, he realized the enormity of his promise, and the unlikelihood that it would be fulfilled. Who was he, to think that someone as insignificant as him could dream to strike back against a great and noble house. It was inconceivable. The more Adalie thought on this, the more he realized his loneliness. He thought of the people he abandoned. The people he'd left to try and fulfill this fool's-quest. He thought of Tal, the woman who took him in and probably saved his life. The one who had taught him how to survive, and how to make a living for himself. He thought of her and how she slipped on her actors mask once she heard of Adalie's intentions to leave and strike out on his own. He realized how much he must have hurt her. His thoughts turned to Capt. Jean, the man who had been like a second father to him. Guiding and training him. Making him into the man he is today. Adalie thought of him and how his old normally cheerful eyes gazed out the window sadly as he simply smiled and nodded. He thought most of Eliza. The pain in her voice. The heartbreak and anger on her face. The dejection in her eyes. He thought of how he cast her aside, much like he did to Vesra all those years ago. He abandoned them. All of them. And he knew to go back after such an insult would only hurt them more. Adalie realized he had nowhere to go but forward. He knew he wouldn't be able to settle down until his itch was scratched, and with this epiphany, he began to formulate a plan to find his elusive grandfather and keep his promise he made so long ago.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is just creative writing with a little bit of math involved.
Class: Monk (with an eye on way of shadows and possibly rogue multi class eventually)
Background: Haunted One
PERSONALITY TRAITS: I don’t run from evil. Evil runs from me.
IDEALS: I kill monsters to make the world a safer place, and to exorcise my own demons. I’ll stop the spirits that haunt me or die trying.
BONDS: A terrible guilt consumes me. I hope that I can find redemption through my actions. I would sacrifice my life and my soul to protect the innocent.
FLAWS: I have an addiction. I am afraid of fire.
Backstory
Vandar's father died while Vandar was still an infant, and his wound up falling in with a religious sect. They had a good reputation in the area, and it seemed like an ideal place for her to go, where she would have plenty of support in raising her child and taking care of them both. It was not until later that she learned the true horror of the predicament she had created for herself and her son. The religious 'sect' was in truth a cult. They were devoted to Death, and routinely sacrificed sentient beings. By the time she learned of this, it was already too late. Members were not allowed to simply walk away. For the safety of her son, she determined to attempt to escape with him anyway. Vandar was still a child when his mother decided the time had come.
They snuck away during the new moon, and for a time it appeared the escape was successful, but they were set upon in the middle of the night, two nights after leaving. They had enough warning from the noise of their hunter's arrival for Vandar's mother to hide him away so he would not be found. She warned him to stay silent, no matter what happened. She attempted to fight, but was quickly subdued by the men who were sent to retrieve her, and was tied onto a horseback to be dragged back to the compound. Vandar heard the men talking and laughing as they retreated, but the only two words he could make out just before they got out of earshot were "next sacrifice". Vandar spent the rest of the night, as well as the entire next day and night, huddled in his hiding place crying silently to himself, hoping in vain that his mother would somehow escape and return to him.
When she had not come back by the second morning, he finally struck out on his own. He made his way back to the road and, not knowing where he was going, picked a direction and started walking. As he stumbled along the road two days later, almost ready to pass out from lack of food and water, he came across an elderly monk. The monk took in Vandar's state and quickly offered him some water as well as some bread and dried meat. He asked the boy where his parents were. After hearing that Vandar's parents were both dead, the monk offered to take Vandar back to his monastery. Having nowhere else to go, Vandar agreed, and they continued on. When they arrived at the monastery, Vandar was informed that he was welcome to stay there, and would be given a chamber, but he would be expected to work, as was everyone at the monastery.
He was given basic jobs at first, cleaning and carrying, etc. He soon learned that the monks at the monastery were adherents to Erevan Ilesere. For the next eight years Vandar remained at the monastery, working and training with the monks. He learned to make use of all of his senses, to read others in order to determine the truth of their words, and the ways of combat and stealth. Eventually, Vandar decided it was time to leave the monastery. He wanted to avenge his mother's death and prevent the cult from taking any more innocent lives, and felt that he was now ready. He began to make preparations to leave. After some days of traveling, he made his way back to the compound he remembered.
Vandar determined to burn the compound to the ground. He waited until the dead of night to approach and started by barring all of the doors. After that was complete, he worked his way around the compound setting blaze to anything flammable. He threw torches through windows to spread the fire inside faster. The alarm was quickly raised as the fire spread and cultists were caught in it. Most were unable to escape the terrible inferno, but a small number -including the leader - were able to break down a door and escape before the fire caught them.
It wasn't until later, while hunting down the escaped culstists that Vandar learned that they had been preparing for a large sacrifice, and there had been a huge group of innocents from various races imprisoned in the compound when Vandar set the fires. Trapped in their cells, they were all incinerated alongside the cultists. Vandar was devastated to discover this, although skeptical at the word from such an untrustworthy source. He travelled back and learned from the people in the area that there had been many disappearances in the months leading up to the fire. He made his way back to where the compound once stood, and among the ashes and burned out buildings found the iron bars of the cells still standing, dozens of skeletons inside. That evening the nightmares began, and alongside them an intense fear of fire. He will not approach any flame larger than a small campfire, and may actively flee from large-scale blazes. He can tolerate torches, but only if he has to, and prefers to stay away from flames even that small, and refuses to carry one himself.
None of this dampened his resolve to end the remaining members of the cult. If anything, it strengthened his resolve, as he came to feel that the only way to redeem himself is to destroy all remains of the cult. Over time he hunted down all but two - the leader and his right-hand man. In all the time he had been searching, he has never found any trace of those two.
Eugene's father was once a respected soldier. His major flaw was a lack of ambition. He thought that if he simply tried to avoid the petty squabbles and politicking of the government that he could live his life in peace. He was wrong. He lost his influence, his rank, his wife, his home, but his son stayed by his side until he died. With his father's lessons (and his weapons) to guide him, Eugene is making his way and his name in the world on his own. Answering this posting is, he thinks, the first step on his journey to a better life.
Eugene would try to be much more active in the world having seen what happened with his father's more passive personality. He knows more about fighting and tactics than he does about society and its workings, but that isn't going to stop him. He doesn't want to end up powerless and forgotten like his father.
Ingot Timbers never got to see the mountains that had been her family's home for generations. Instead she had been born in the forest surrounding it. Her family had been exiled from the mountain for a crime her father had committed. He had taken part in an assassination plot to kill one of the nobles in exchange for money to provide for his family. The plot failed, costing Arthis his life and getting her mother, who had been pregnant with Ingot at the time, and her brothers kicked out. As a result, Ingot never had the same love for the mountains and stone her brothers did, instead preferring the woods she had been born in. She was the only one of her siblings who adapted to living topside and as such was often forced to provide for them. She began to study animals, plants, monsters, people, and anything else she needed to in order to keep herself alive in the harsh unforgiving world. She spent 20 years hunting, studying, trading, and building relationships with people she thought might be of help one day. Eventually she began to feel smothered by a family that refused to do anything for themselves and relied so heavily on her to take care of them, that she abandoned her home in the middle of the night. Leaving everything behind to seek her own way in the world.
It is not in the nature of the Kenku to dream, but Nine wakes from nightmares every day. His Name is the only phrase he remembers from those nightmares, three words spoken by the men who slaughtered his family and enslaved him as a child. He was set to work with others, taught the basics of theft and forgery while his fellow slaves pursued bigger heists better suited to those who could improvise. Eventually he was freed, out of pity perhaps , during an escape by Kobold sisters who wielded sorcery and darker arts.
He knew nothing but the instinct to run, and so he did, and did not stop until he had ran out of the provisions his rescuers had pressed into his hands and exhaustion finally claimed him almost two weeks later.
He found himself far from any cities, in a woodland filled with ancient, colossal trees near the base of mountains he did not know the name of, and that is where Alren found him.
The old, half-elf was a Ranger of long years but keen eye, and perhaps it was pity that moved him , or the old mans loneliness, but Nine found himself a home for his formative years. He was taught to hunt, to care for plants and tend to the animals of his new domain, taught to fight and track, and live off the land. It was not the life he had been meant for, but in the wildlands the Kenku boy found a peace and purpose he had not expected.
Eventually though, all things die, and so Alren passed.
Nine felt sorrow, expressed through the near constant repetition of the old ranger’s voice echoing in his favorite ribald songs for days after Nine buried his mentor. And then he took up his masters bow and his darts, and knew that it was time to return to the cities, for there was another hunt he would have to begin.
And hunting was one skill Nine had learned perfectly.
History: I'd change the names of places to match this world. They were placeholders while I was developing the character.
Dresnir was found as a baby by a group of Wood Elf scouts near a stream in Goldcrest valley. The hunters kept her fed and well on the journey back to Ula'ree. Once home though, they left her with the only humans in the village. The human couple that opted to raise her, Marlok and Esme, were farmers and as Dresnir got older she was forced to work on the farm too. She had a happy youth considering her start to life. But when entered her 10th year, Esme birthed a child and Drez began to feel starved for attention. She resented the new baby and the imagined neglect.
She left the village, stealing all she could carry in her pockets, and made her way to Erstow, the largest port city within 300 miles. On her journey, she met a travelling group of musicians led by a High elf named Ta’role. He taught her to play the flute. Once she had mastered it, he crafted an identical replica using fallen branches from the oaks that sheltered their path to Erstow. Dresnir stuck with the band until they entered the city before she thanked them for their hospitality and made her own way.
A few unsuccessful gambles later, she resigned herself to the reality that she couldn’t survive alone and went in search of Ta’role. Instead she found a young human girl like herself who shared her food and shelter. Drez and Y’va became fast friends. Together they earned coin however they could. Sometimes Drez played the flute while Y’va danced for a crowd. Other times, Y’va stole what they needed and Drez was the perfect distraction. That setup worked for a while before they were approached by a drow dressed in all black with a blue sash around his waist. He didn’t offer a name but he gruffly explained that the two were encroaching on Darkfoot territory. He warned them that stealing in this part of the city would not be tolerated.
Drez and Y’va reluctantly moved to a less affluent area within the city. It worked well for a while before they started to go hungry. The two foolishly moved back to the Gilded Swan district and were immediately detained by the same drow and a few companions. He brought them to an underground hideout where they met Granoth. Granoth was a large, imposing Dragonborn. His scales were obsidian and glistened with the glow of the fireplace behind him and yet it was his smirk that frightened. He sat on a throne of bones in the far corner of the room. The girls were pushed forward by the drow and surrounded by a similarly dressed assortment of people. Then Granoth stepped forth and offered them a deal. The girls were to work for him. Keep pulling their small gains and return a percentage to the Darkfoot gang. Drez and Y’va agreed without hesitation as they each felt the point of a blade at the end of their spines.
They continued like that for almost 5 years until they grew too old to continue surviving on the periphery of the Darkfoot gang. Y’va joined first, and Drez followed. She couldn’t leave her friend alone in such dangerous company. Dresnir stole treasures from anyone and everyone while honing her skill with a blade until one day Y’va got caught in a brawl. Drez watched her friend die as the rest of their group fled. She sat beside Y’va’s motionless form for as long as she could, and as the city guard approached, she grabbed the silver locket chain that her friend had had around her neck since they met. Dresnir whispered a quick “I love you” far too late, gave her friend a quick first kiss and then snuck back to the hideout. While waiting for Granoth to return, Drez realised it was time to leave the city, go out make a better life for herself, maybe visit her family. So she completed her last mission and then waited for the perfect opportunity. A few weeks later, Drez stole a rather small chest of coin from the stores. She ran straight to the nearest woodcarver, and purchased the finest flute he had premade; a reminder of herself before the Darkfoot. She then travelled to the poverty stricken, Black Pot district in the south and distributed some of her new wealth to the urchins that flood the streets. Then she disappeared.
That was 5 years ago. Drez is now 5’9” and 162 lbs, with fair skin, green eyes, cropped red hair, and freckles smattered across her cheeks. In her solitude she had tried to mark herself in memory of Y’va. The tattoo does not share a perfect resemblance but Dresnir cherishes it. She keeps it hidden under her sleeve and looks at it whenever she misses her friend. She hid and survived off the gold she had acquired in her escape. But that supply has run out and she now needs to strike out on her own once more. She has her flute, some clothes, a few trinkets, and a smile on her face. Now she is searching for a home, and laughter, and a good time... and a story. Whether that’s with Marlok, Esme, and Satine, or a new group of people, she isn’t certain. Until then, she searches for some companions to travel with because she is afraid that Granoth and the Darkfoot will catch up to her eventually.
Name: Mugedur the Bodacious Race: Dwarf Class: Barbarian Background: Gladiator
Down on his luck, starving, and nowhere else to turn, Mugedur picked up a dull axe and entered a gladiator ring. Without any money to pay the entrance fee, Mugedur offered the only collateral he had: a set of bagpipes that'd he'd been carrying with him since he was a child. He would win back his precious instrument that night, or die trying. With little else to lose, Mugedur threw himself into the fight with every ounce of strength left in his malnourished body. Each strike left him emboldened, hungry for more, roaring, and the crowd roared back. No combatant could match his ferocity and rage, and battle hardened fighters cowered at his feet. That night he ate the first full meal he'd had in weeks.
Mugedur returned the following night, this able to pay his entrance fee, and he stepped into the ring to the sound of a cheering crowd who had arrived hungry for more. He fed on their adulation, and obliged their wants. His fighting become an elaborate performance, punctuated with lewd gestures, insults, and bombastic speeches. The more he performed, the more people loved him, and the larger and louder the crowd became each night.
The grand performance ultimately became Mugedur's downfall, when a young gladiator seeking to prove himself took advantage while Mugedur was focused on the crowd. The concern of his fans did little to dull the pain of a knife wound in his side, or lessen the many weeks of recovery. It was a lesson poorly learned. Although he had decided to leave the gladiator ring behind, he was no less eager to place himself in harms way. Instead of pretending to fight battles, Mugedur sought new adventures elsewhere; hopefully with more lucrative rewards, and greater stories to tell.
Hello.
Im new to 5e but familiar with 3.5 and pathfinder. Played on roll20 and some pbp along with occasional live games. Want to try my hand at DMing a pbp only game. This will be a storydriven campaign. 0.5-1 Post a day, Im a busy student so might not have time to post everyday, but atleast everyother day! Expect longer posts and a heavy collaborative storytelling element.
Tendrils of Shadow is a homebrew campaign set in a world of relatively low magic and fantasy. Humans are plentiful, Elves are rare and stick to their own settlements in the deep woods. Dwarves and Gnomes live in mountains and trade with human settlements. Halflings are rather rare and stick to their own little homesteads.
Eldor is a vast and powerfull citystate that radiates influence on the surrounding regions. Ruled by a nefarious guild, Eldor seeks to broaden its hold. Some news of brutal bands of seekers harrasing settlements and taking away any possible magic users have reached the settlement of Tarok.
Tarok is small settlement in the far west. Nestled in the rolling hills against the vast mountains further west, all manner of characters and travelers live their lives. A peacefull tradepost town, where merchants can peddle their goods and stories and rumors can be heard in the taverns from travelers. By necessity a strong militia unit has been formed over the years, of volunteers to protect the town from occasional goblinoid raiding parties that venture down from the mountains.
A posting had been put up on the main advertisment board of Taroks town center;
"Seeking hardened and able-bodied persons to protect a shipment. Pay is generous, risk is high. Applicants welcomed at Office of Ralo and Sons."
This posting catches your eye..
Post your character concept. Any questions will be answered!
(1st level - Core material, will provide link to campaign with shared material for character creation once players chosen - Sell me your character concept)
Does core material mean just the free basic rules, the PHB-DMG-MM stuff or any official releases?
Anyways, I'd like to play a self-taught wizard. A former human urchin who pick-pocketed a spellbook and is eager to prove herself and become a powerful spellcaster like in the stories she heard.
I want play Vasco, a tabaxi rouge, an entertainer who amperes the heros he acts as,
Marvarax and Sora (Dragonborn) The retired fighter and WIP scholar - Glory
Brythel(Dwarf), The dwarf with a gun - survival at sea
Jaylin(Human), Paladin of Lathander's Ancient ways - The Seven Saints (Azura Claw)
Urselles(Goblin), Cleric of Eldath- The Wizard's challenge
Viclas Tyrin(Half Elf), Student of the Elven arts- Indrafatmoko's Defiance in Phlan
See below
Name: Adalie Zaen
Race: Half-Elf
Age: 19
Appearance: Tall and wiry, with soft features. Short and shaggy black hair. Tanned skin, with small scars and scrapes all along his body.
Personality: I lie about almost everything, even when there’s no good reason to.
Ideal: Material goods come and go. Bonds of friendship last forever.
Bond: A powerful person killed someone I love. Someday soon, I’ll have my revenge.
Flaw: I’m convinced that no one could ever fool me the way I fool others.
Alignment: Neutral Good
Class: Rogue
Background: Charlatan
Character Concept (The Story Where I Thought Him Up):
If you were to ask anyone of the legend of Adalie Zaen, almost no one would know who you are talking about. However, if you go the right taverns at the right time, you might find a storyteller in the back almost begging people to listen to his tale. He will tell you of a legendary figure. A champion to all. He will tell the very true tale of a man who challenged an entire clan of orcs to fight and killed them all with his bare hands. He will tell you of a man who skewer a fruity fly to a tree with an arrow from 300 meters away… without killing it. He will tell you of a man who's sword skills are so extraordinary, that men would rather cut off their own hands then clash blades with him. He will tell you of a man whose wit and beauty are indefinable, how anyone who gazes upon him are immediately infatuated and cannot contain their love. He will tell you of a man whose honor and compassion are uncomparable and how he single handedly carried a blind, deaf, crippled, elderly, baby, woman who had glass bones and paper skin from her home village to another 500 miles away and back just to pick up some milk. Yes, he will tell you the incredibly true story of the heroic, handsome, strong, brave and charismatic Adalie Zaen
If you don’t leave halfway through this tale, and you have a keen eye, you might notice that the man telling you this tale has some suspicious similarities to the legendary Adalie Zaen. You could make the assumption that this is the true legend, though his eyes don't "sparkle as bright as the sea" and his face doesn’t appear to be “Molded after the gods themselves”. If you buy this man a few drinks, you might get to know more about the man behind legend. You might learn of a small farming family who never bothered anyone. You would learn that the father, a human by the name of Dasenn was born and raised a farmer, and how his kindness and compassion left many beggars with food in their bellies and a roof over their heads. You would learn of his wife, Aliesa an elven noble who fell in love with this simple man and wanted to live a simple life with him, away from the corruption and persecution of her lands. You would learn that they had two children together, a boy named Adalie and girl name Vesra. This man would smile as he spoke of Vesra, how she was always there for Adalie and always knew what to say to cheer him up. How she and her small cloth doll would play doctor on him when he got hurt. His smile would turn to a grimace as he spoke about the father of Aliesa and how he was disgusted between the union of his only daughter and some human peasant. How he and some of his men ransacked their farm. How the elf killed his father in cold blood, and his mother when she fought back. You would learn how Adalie escaped his bonds and ran. How he ran as Vesra screamed for his help. How he ran like a coward and hid for three days before finally returning to farm. How when he returned, he didn’t find his sister. The only thing left of his family that he found was his sister's cloth doll, and his mother's rapier. As this man clutches on old worn doll in his hands, he might tell you of how as he buried his parents, he promised that he would find her and make things right. He would make sure nothing hurt her ever again.
Adalie’s Backstory (More refined):
Adalie was born into a small farming family. His father, Dasenn, was a retired soldier who always invited tired and hungry travelers into their home. His mother, Aliesa, was an elven noble who had run away from her lands. When Dasenn found her cold and hungry, he brought her into his home and welcomed her to his table. They fell in love and along came Adalie and his younger sister Vesra. While Adalie was 5 years older than Vesra, they were inseparable. As soon as Vesra could walk, she would follow Adalie around the farm as he did his chores, and as they grew up they played together, worked together, and even began training with their parents together. For 10 years Adalie only knew happiness and peace, that was until his grandfather came to "visit" with his men. Adalie had never heard much of his Elven heritage and had only heard his mother talk about his grandfather once. It was long after Adalie was supposed to be in bed, but he heard his parents arguing, something that never happened. He only heard his father whisper, "No! Nindrol would never find us here. Your father doesn't know where you are, and he doesn't know where the kids are. We're safe here Aliesa." Adalie was only brave enough to hear that before he returned to bed in fear he would be caught.
On that day Dasenn strode out to confront Nindrol. He barely got a word out before Nindrol raised a hand and blasted him away. Adalie and Vesra heard the blast all the way out in the fields, they only gave each other a look before running back to their house. Their mother met them halfway, screaming for them to run. Before Adalie and Vesra could react, she was set upon by riders. They watched as she took down one, then 2, then 5. She was like a storm, but as the riders began to break off from her and ride towards her children, her focus faltered. Adalie and Vesra watched as a man drove a spear into their mother's back. Vesra screamed and Adalie just sank to his knees. The riders strung them up. Nindrol approached his eyes locked to the body of his daughter. When the soldier who killed her approached him with an explanation, Nindrol just looked at him, and the man was set ablaze. As the rest of the men recoiled in horror, Adalie shook his bonds and began running to the forest that surrounded their farm. He ran as Vesra called her help. He ran as he heard her crying and begging for him to come back. He abandoned his little sister. His responsibility, his only family left, and he just ran. He ran into the forest and didn't even look back. He hid there for 3 days before he had the bravery to return to his home. His house had already been reduced to ash, and Vesra was gone. The only things left of his family was his sisters old cloth doll, and his mother's rapier that was set atop a shallow grave dug for her. As Adalie buried his father, he promised his parents that he would be brave. That he would find Nindrol, and kill him. That he would save his sister, no matter what.
That plan, however, has been put off time and time again. At first it was because he was far too young, he knew he was far too weak to take down a mighty elven noble and however many guards or enforcers he kept around him. After he fell in with a young bard named Talira Lari, it was because he was training to become a grand storyteller. As she was teaching him how to weave and entrance an audience he knew that he didn't have time to set out on a grand adventure to take down a mighty elven house. Besides, he was only 12, what could he do now that he couldn't 2 years ago? So, Adalie trained and entertained thinking about his family, and his promise less and less often. After a few years under her guidance, Adalie once again set off alone, this time not on a quest for vengeance but to see the world and all of it's wonderful inhabitants. It was during these years he fell in with a young duelist named Eliza Zilizo and her retired smuggler father, Captain Jean. It is with this pair that he learned not only how to use his mother's blade properly, but how to earn a bit more coin through some... unorthodox methods. And though Adalie cared for the pair greatly, especially Eliza, he knew he could not settle down. He had an itch. He needed to keep moving.
It was during these days Adalie began to think more on the promise he made 8 years ago. More so, he realized the enormity of his promise, and the unlikelihood that it would be fulfilled. Who was he, to think that someone as insignificant as him could dream to strike back against a great and noble house. It was inconceivable. The more Adalie thought on this, the more he realized his loneliness. He thought of the people he abandoned. The people he'd left to try and fulfill this fool's-quest. He thought of Tal, the woman who took him in and probably saved his life. The one who had taught him how to survive, and how to make a living for himself. He thought of her and how she slipped on her actors mask once she heard of Adalie's intentions to leave and strike out on his own. He realized how much he must have hurt her. His thoughts turned to Capt. Jean, the man who had been like a second father to him. Guiding and training him. Making him into the man he is today. Adalie thought of him and how his old normally cheerful eyes gazed out the window sadly as he simply smiled and nodded. He thought most of Eliza. The pain in her voice. The heartbreak and anger on her face. The dejection in her eyes. He thought of how he cast her aside, much like he did to Vesra all those years ago. He abandoned them. All of them. And he knew to go back after such an insult would only hurt them more. Adalie realized he had nowhere to go but forward. He knew he wouldn't be able to settle down until his itch was scratched, and with this epiphany, he began to formulate a plan to find his elusive grandfather and keep his promise he made so long ago.
D&D is just creative writing with a little bit of math involved.
Name: Vandar
Race: Wood Elf
Class: Monk (with an eye on way of shadows and possibly rogue multi class eventually)
Background: Haunted One
PERSONALITY TRAITS: I don’t run from evil. Evil runs from me.
IDEALS: I kill monsters to make the world a safer place, and to exorcise my own demons. I’ll stop the spirits that haunt me or die trying.
BONDS: A terrible guilt consumes me. I hope that I can find redemption through my actions. I would sacrifice my life and my soul to protect the innocent.
FLAWS: I have an addiction. I am afraid of fire.
Backstory
Vandar's father died while Vandar was still an infant, and his wound up falling in with a religious sect. They had a good reputation in the area, and it seemed like an ideal place for her to go, where she would have plenty of support in raising her child and taking care of them both. It was not until later that she learned the true horror of the predicament she had created for herself and her son. The religious 'sect' was in truth a cult. They were devoted to Death, and routinely sacrificed sentient beings. By the time she learned of this, it was already too late. Members were not allowed to simply walk away. For the safety of her son, she determined to attempt to escape with him anyway. Vandar was still a child when his mother decided the time had come.
They snuck away during the new moon, and for a time it appeared the escape was successful, but they were set upon in the middle of the night, two nights after leaving. They had enough warning from the noise of their hunter's arrival for Vandar's mother to hide him away so he would not be found. She warned him to stay silent, no matter what happened. She attempted to fight, but was quickly subdued by the men who were sent to retrieve her, and was tied onto a horseback to be dragged back to the compound. Vandar heard the men talking and laughing as they retreated, but the only two words he could make out just before they got out of earshot were "next sacrifice". Vandar spent the rest of the night, as well as the entire next day and night, huddled in his hiding place crying silently to himself, hoping in vain that his mother would somehow escape and return to him.
When she had not come back by the second morning, he finally struck out on his own. He made his way back to the road and, not knowing where he was going, picked a direction and started walking. As he stumbled along the road two days later, almost ready to pass out from lack of food and water, he came across an elderly monk. The monk took in Vandar's state and quickly offered him some water as well as some bread and dried meat. He asked the boy where his parents were. After hearing that Vandar's parents were both dead, the monk offered to take Vandar back to his monastery. Having nowhere else to go, Vandar agreed, and they continued on. When they arrived at the monastery, Vandar was informed that he was welcome to stay there, and would be given a chamber, but he would be expected to work, as was everyone at the monastery.
He was given basic jobs at first, cleaning and carrying, etc. He soon learned that the monks at the monastery were adherents to Erevan Ilesere. For the next eight years Vandar remained at the monastery, working and training with the monks. He learned to make use of all of his senses, to read others in order to determine the truth of their words, and the ways of combat and stealth. Eventually, Vandar decided it was time to leave the monastery. He wanted to avenge his mother's death and prevent the cult from taking any more innocent lives, and felt that he was now ready. He began to make preparations to leave. After some days of traveling, he made his way back to the compound he remembered.
Vandar determined to burn the compound to the ground. He waited until the dead of night to approach and started by barring all of the doors. After that was complete, he worked his way around the compound setting blaze to anything flammable. He threw torches through windows to spread the fire inside faster. The alarm was quickly raised as the fire spread and cultists were caught in it. Most were unable to escape the terrible inferno, but a small number -including the leader - were able to break down a door and escape before the fire caught them.
It wasn't until later, while hunting down the escaped culstists that Vandar learned that they had been preparing for a large sacrifice, and there had been a huge group of innocents from various races imprisoned in the compound when Vandar set the fires. Trapped in their cells, they were all incinerated alongside the cultists. Vandar was devastated to discover this, although skeptical at the word from such an untrustworthy source. He travelled back and learned from the people in the area that there had been many disappearances in the months leading up to the fire. He made his way back to where the compound once stood, and among the ashes and burned out buildings found the iron bars of the cells still standing, dozens of skeletons inside. That evening the nightmares began, and alongside them an intense fear of fire. He will not approach any flame larger than a small campfire, and may actively flee from large-scale blazes. He can tolerate torches, but only if he has to, and prefers to stay away from flames even that small, and refuses to carry one himself.
None of this dampened his resolve to end the remaining members of the cult. If anything, it strengthened his resolve, as he came to feel that the only way to redeem himself is to destroy all remains of the cult. Over time he hunted down all but two - the leader and his right-hand man. In all the time he had been searching, he has never found any trace of those two.
Eugene
Human male. 22 years old. Fighter.
Eugene's father was once a respected soldier. His major flaw was a lack of ambition. He thought that if he simply tried to avoid the petty squabbles and politicking of the government that he could live his life in peace. He was wrong. He lost his influence, his rank, his wife, his home, but his son stayed by his side until he died. With his father's lessons (and his weapons) to guide him, Eugene is making his way and his name in the world on his own. Answering this posting is, he thinks, the first step on his journey to a better life.
Eugene would try to be much more active in the world having seen what happened with his father's more passive personality. He knows more about fighting and tactics than he does about society and its workings, but that isn't going to stop him. He doesn't want to end up powerless and forgotten like his father.
Name: Ingot Timbers
Race:Gnome
Class:Ranger
Age:34
Background:Outlander
Ingot Timbers never got to see the mountains that had been her family's home for generations. Instead she had been born in the forest surrounding it. Her family had been exiled from the mountain for a crime her father had committed. He had taken part in an assassination plot to kill one of the nobles in exchange for money to provide for his family. The plot failed, costing Arthis his life and getting her mother, who had been pregnant with Ingot at the time, and her brothers kicked out. As a result, Ingot never had the same love for the mountains and stone her brothers did, instead preferring the woods she had been born in. She was the only one of her siblings who adapted to living topside and as such was often forced to provide for them. She began to study animals, plants, monsters, people, and anything else she needed to in order to keep herself alive in the harsh unforgiving world. She spent 20 years hunting, studying, trading, and building relationships with people she thought might be of help one day. Eventually she began to feel smothered by a family that refused to do anything for themselves and relied so heavily on her to take care of them, that she abandoned her home in the middle of the night. Leaving everything behind to seek her own way in the world.
Avery Highdale-Halfling Rogue(Thief) Lv.3
Penelope Skyshatter-Dragonborn Sorcerer(Draconic Bloodline) Lv.2
Red Skies in Mourning: DM
Volqelli Ryxu- Drow Wizard(Conjuration School)/Rogue Lv. 13
Name: Nine-while-Nine
Race: Kenku
Ranger
Background: Haunted One
It is not in the nature of the Kenku to dream, but Nine wakes from nightmares every day. His Name is the only phrase he remembers from those nightmares, three words spoken by the men who slaughtered his family and enslaved him as a child. He was set to work with others, taught the basics of theft and forgery while his fellow slaves pursued bigger heists better suited to those who could improvise. Eventually he was freed, out of pity perhaps , during an escape by Kobold sisters who wielded sorcery and darker arts.
He knew nothing but the instinct to run, and so he did, and did not stop until he had ran out of the provisions his rescuers had pressed into his hands and exhaustion finally claimed him almost two weeks later.
He found himself far from any cities, in a woodland filled with ancient, colossal trees near the base of mountains he did not know the name of, and that is where Alren found him.
The old, half-elf was a Ranger of long years but keen eye, and perhaps it was pity that moved him , or the old mans loneliness, but Nine found himself a home for his formative years. He was taught to hunt, to care for plants and tend to the animals of his new domain, taught to fight and track, and live off the land. It was not the life he had been meant for, but in the wildlands the Kenku boy found a peace and purpose he had not expected.
Eventually though, all things die, and so Alren passed.
Nine felt sorrow, expressed through the near constant repetition of the old ranger’s voice echoing in his favorite ribald songs for days after Nine buried his mentor. And then he took up his masters bow and his darts, and knew that it was time to return to the cities, for there was another hunt he would have to begin.
And hunting was one skill Nine had learned perfectly.
Name: Dresnir/Drez
Race: vHuman/Halfling
Class: Bard
Background: Criminal/Urchin
Age, Gender: 23, F
History: I'd change the names of places to match this world. They were placeholders while I was developing the character.
Dresnir was found as a baby by a group of Wood Elf scouts near a stream in Goldcrest valley. The hunters kept her fed and well on the journey back to Ula'ree. Once home though, they left her with the only humans in the village. The human couple that opted to raise her, Marlok and Esme, were farmers and as Dresnir got older she was forced to work on the farm too. She had a happy youth considering her start to life. But when entered her 10th year, Esme birthed a child and Drez began to feel starved for attention. She resented the new baby and the imagined neglect.
She left the village, stealing all she could carry in her pockets, and made her way to Erstow, the largest port city within 300 miles. On her journey, she met a travelling group of musicians led by a High elf named Ta’role. He taught her to play the flute. Once she had mastered it, he crafted an identical replica using fallen branches from the oaks that sheltered their path to Erstow. Dresnir stuck with the band until they entered the city before she thanked them for their hospitality and made her own way.
A few unsuccessful gambles later, she resigned herself to the reality that she couldn’t survive alone and went in search of Ta’role. Instead she found a young human girl like herself who shared her food and shelter. Drez and Y’va became fast friends. Together they earned coin however they could. Sometimes Drez played the flute while Y’va danced for a crowd. Other times, Y’va stole what they needed and Drez was the perfect distraction. That setup worked for a while before they were approached by a drow dressed in all black with a blue sash around his waist. He didn’t offer a name but he gruffly explained that the two were encroaching on Darkfoot territory. He warned them that stealing in this part of the city would not be tolerated.
Drez and Y’va reluctantly moved to a less affluent area within the city. It worked well for a while before they started to go hungry. The two foolishly moved back to the Gilded Swan district and were immediately detained by the same drow and a few companions. He brought them to an underground hideout where they met Granoth. Granoth was a large, imposing Dragonborn. His scales were obsidian and glistened with the glow of the fireplace behind him and yet it was his smirk that frightened. He sat on a throne of bones in the far corner of the room. The girls were pushed forward by the drow and surrounded by a similarly dressed assortment of people. Then Granoth stepped forth and offered them a deal. The girls were to work for him. Keep pulling their small gains and return a percentage to the Darkfoot gang. Drez and Y’va agreed without hesitation as they each felt the point of a blade at the end of their spines.
They continued like that for almost 5 years until they grew too old to continue surviving on the periphery of the Darkfoot gang. Y’va joined first, and Drez followed. She couldn’t leave her friend alone in such dangerous company. Dresnir stole treasures from anyone and everyone while honing her skill with a blade until one day Y’va got caught in a brawl. Drez watched her friend die as the rest of their group fled. She sat beside Y’va’s motionless form for as long as she could, and as the city guard approached, she grabbed the silver locket chain that her friend had had around her neck since they met. Dresnir whispered a quick “I love you” far too late, gave her friend a quick first kiss and then snuck back to the hideout. While waiting for Granoth to return, Drez realised it was time to leave the city, go out make a better life for herself, maybe visit her family. So she completed her last mission and then waited for the perfect opportunity. A few weeks later, Drez stole a rather small chest of coin from the stores. She ran straight to the nearest woodcarver, and purchased the finest flute he had premade; a reminder of herself before the Darkfoot. She then travelled to the poverty stricken, Black Pot district in the south and distributed some of her new wealth to the urchins that flood the streets. Then she disappeared.
That was 5 years ago. Drez is now 5’9” and 162 lbs, with fair skin, green eyes, cropped red hair, and freckles smattered across her cheeks. In her solitude she had tried to mark herself in memory of Y’va. The tattoo does not share a perfect resemblance but Dresnir cherishes it. She keeps it hidden under her sleeve and looks at it whenever she misses her friend. She hid and survived off the gold she had acquired in her escape. But that supply has run out and she now needs to strike out on her own once more. She has her flute, some clothes, a few trinkets, and a smile on her face. Now she is searching for a home, and laughter, and a good time... and a story. Whether that’s with Marlok, Esme, and Satine, or a new group of people, she isn’t certain. Until then, she searches for some companions to travel with because she is afraid that Granoth and the Darkfoot will catch up to her eventually.
Name: Mugedur the Bodacious
Race: Dwarf
Class: Barbarian
Background: Gladiator
Down on his luck, starving, and nowhere else to turn, Mugedur picked up a dull axe and entered a gladiator ring. Without any money to pay the entrance fee, Mugedur offered the only collateral he had: a set of bagpipes that'd he'd been carrying with him since he was a child. He would win back his precious instrument that night, or die trying. With little else to lose, Mugedur threw himself into the fight with every ounce of strength left in his malnourished body. Each strike left him emboldened, hungry for more, roaring, and the crowd roared back. No combatant could match his ferocity and rage, and battle hardened fighters cowered at his feet. That night he ate the first full meal he'd had in weeks.
Mugedur returned the following night, this able to pay his entrance fee, and he stepped into the ring to the sound of a cheering crowd who had arrived hungry for more. He fed on their adulation, and obliged their wants. His fighting become an elaborate performance, punctuated with lewd gestures, insults, and bombastic speeches. The more he performed, the more people loved him, and the larger and louder the crowd became each night.
The grand performance ultimately became Mugedur's downfall, when a young gladiator seeking to prove himself took advantage while Mugedur was focused on the crowd. The concern of his fans did little to dull the pain of a knife wound in his side, or lessen the many weeks of recovery. It was a lesson poorly learned. Although he had decided to leave the gladiator ring behind, he was no less eager to place himself in harms way. Instead of pretending to fight battles, Mugedur sought new adventures elsewhere; hopefully with more lucrative rewards, and greater stories to tell.
Hey. Have you selected the party for this game?
Hi are you still taking character applications for this campaign?