Name: Olwalyn Race: Half-elf mark of the storm Class: Evocation wizard Background: Sage
Olwalyn is a half-elf who has always had been interested in the power of nature. How fire can destroy everything, how water helps to put fire out, the amazing power of storms. From an early age he studied these kind of things and soon he found himself with certain possibilities of creating a gust of wind out of nowhere. So he found someone who could help him control and harnass these powers. This person was a wizard and he thought him the ways of evocation wizards. Since than he travelled to find more and more about these kind of powers. Sometimes taking jobs for money, sometimes travelling pure for himself. His latest job brought him onto a ship along the Dessarin river, to help protect the merchant ship during their travels, and to hide it at certain moments in the fogs he could create.
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"grandpa" Salkur, deep gnome artificer/sorcerer: Spiderwrangler's Forged in Chaos | Pepin, Human Artificer/cleric: Goblin horde | Mixtli, Volcano Genasi Artificer: Champions of the Citadel
Name: Jin Grey Race: Half-Elf Class: Bard (Warlock) Background: Entertainer
Physical Description:
At 6’1”, his skin the color of deep dark oakwood, his eyes silvery-bright and wide like almonds, Jin Grey appears neither human nor drow, but a stormcloud mix of both. If not for the impossible silver-sheen of his elven eyes, he’d pass for a taller-than-average Rashemi human. The dark black beard shaping his jaw and chin, streaked here and there with red and gold and copper strands, reveals him to be no full elf. His thick dark hair falls to his shoulders in braided pleats.
He wears the costume of a musician, or an entertainer—dark silks ribboned and cloaked over his tall lithe body, the colors of midnight and deep dusk—and indeed he carries a seven-string lyre at his hip. Over his back he drapes a larger, three-stringed lyre, with an accompanying bow, nestled against the backpack and bedroll strapped over his shoulders. A curved rapier with an ornamental hilt sits sheathed at his waist. Around his neck he wears the trinket of a former admirer: an iron holy symbol, shaped like a figure-eight, devoted to an unknown god.
Personality:
Intimidating and charismatic both, Jin Grey is a tower of storm beaming with a bright white smile. He makes himself the center of attention in an attempt to control his surroundings: so long as everyone’s watching him play his lyre or recite his ancient fey poetry, he feels safe. Half-drow and half-human, he knows no home but for the open road and the vast night sky. His fey ancestry haunts him in ways he doesn’t understand, and he’s enchanted and terrified by it. He seeks new songs like others seek love or fortune. Tall, lithe and dexterous, he fits the description of a versatile stage performer.
Backstory:
Jin Grey will tell you he’s journeying to find a new song—the one which haunts him, the whispers of which he hears even now—but what he won’t tell you is that he’s running away. Nearing his fortieth year (though his half-elf blood makes this nearly impossible to discern), finding himself somewhere between youth and half-elven maturity, he’s determined now to put as much distance as he can between where he comes from and where he’s headed.
Born in the Urlingwood forest to a Wychlaran mother, raised in the hidden grove town of Urling, Jin considered the untamed wild of north Rashemen his earliest companion. His mother—a hathran “learned sister”—divided her loyalty between her half-elf son and the othlor witches whom she served. The depths of the Urlingwood forest remain forbidden to any but the Wychlaran initiates; as the male child of a witch, Jin inhabited the delicate space between the arcane magic of his mother’s sisterhood and the Rashemi commonfolk of Urling where he lived. Foreign travelers to Urling were few but storied, and the town’s lone inn, The Green Chapel, served as a second home for the child whenever his mother returned to the darkest depths of the forbidden forest.
At seven, he was given to his father in the Underdark. Donning the traditional hathran mask she wore in all public spaces, dark and ornamented with two long curved horns, Jin's mother led him by the hand through one of the witches’ known entrances into the cavernous underworld. After what seemed an eternity of traveling through treacherous dark, she pushed through a cave guarded by a wall of spiderwebs and handed the boy to the drow male who lived there. The cave was ornate, majestic, studded with dark gemstones and glowing with soft magic fungi. The man by contrast was dark, quiet, and stared at Jin with the same silver-bright elven eyes which separated the boy from his human peers.
Both parents understood magic through the art of performance, music, and ritualistic dance, and they passed this training to their child. But where Jin’s mother communed with the spirit deities of her forest, celebrating and worshiping the chaotic bounty of nature, Jin’s father felt himself tortured under the competing whims of rival goddesses Lolth and Eilistraee. He’d torn himself from the drow settlements of Undrek'Thoz and hid himself behind spiderwebs and inscriptions to Lolth. And yet, even as he gave worship to the spider goddess, the presence of her daughter—Ellistraee, goddess of song, dance, freedom, and moonlight—seemed to haunt him like light seeping under the crack of a door.
Three years Jin lived in the dark with his drow father. The Underdark is quick to turn hostile to half-elves, and his time underground was a lonely one. His father, though intelligent, industrious, and resourceful, lived in fear of his gods and his own peers. Jin took solace in magic, music, and books of history. His father trained him in the haunting, dirgeful lament of the bowed lyre, a profound contrast to the sprightly faerie-songed hand lyre strung for him by his witch mother. The music—transcending the gods and spirits of both his parents—had always served as Jin’s light and shield against the unknown; in the Underdark, it also became his sword.
He left the Underdark at age 10 without protest from his father: neither drow nor human, Jin’s path was never destined to be tethered to the sedentary, limited domain of either of his parents. His mother’s power was contained to her forest, just as his father was constrained underground beneath the sunlight; Jin emerged from the Underdark with his two lyres and returned briefly to Urling before embarking for the Rashemen capital of Immimar. He found employ as a young entertainer, drifting between paid gigs at inns, busking on street corners, and, more lucratively, rounding out troupes of would-be adventurers and performers as a versatile hired hand.
One such traveling troupe of actors brought him on as a charismatic and musical young face of their party; and they kept themselves fed not only through their performances of historic plays, but also by pilfering the pockets, cupboards, and treasure rooms of their unwitting noble hosts. Jin fell into the criminal gang’s ranks without hesitation or question; he played his arcane music for the faerie gods of nature and chaos and he reveled in delivering outstanding performances as an actor, even as his troupe leaders silently cut the purses of those who watched. Still young, he considered himself innocent, untethered, unbeholden to the ever-changing values of human societies; he felt himself more at home in the untamed wilds of the forest than any tavern or inn; and he took such joy in the smiles of his troupe mates and the camaraderie they shared that he let himself be swept by their indomitable will towards freedom.
He fell in love, too, with another young man in the troupe. They were lost souls together, he was sure, and Jin found a new home in the man’s soft blue eyes and the gold-brown stubble at his chin. For a time, Jin was content, traveling ever westward with the company of actor-thieves, leaving them only when his wanderlust forced him to spend a few nights under the trees or under the stars, away from the cities, hands clasped with his partner’s as they made beautiful music together; for a time, he was content, until he turned 20 and his happiness crumbled to dust. An ambitious, dangerous performance close to his home town of Urling, staged inside the haunted catacombs of the Fortress of the Half-Demon, invited various wealthy and thrill-seeking adventurers to witness the show. The event was an unmitigated disaster: the audience caught on to the troupe’s attempted theft, and turned on the company in violence; the Fortress itself then turned on troupe and audience alike, as vampiric monsters spewed from the depths of the catacombs to feast on the chaos within their halls. Bodies quickly became corpses. Jin’s blue-eyed acting partner was one among the countless killed.
In the aftermath, the troupe disbanded without a trace. Jin withdrew into himself, finding himself at home now only in the wilderness. He allowed himself to keep moving westward, westward, as far away from Urling, the Underdark, and the Fortress of the Half-Demon as his travels could take him. His music became his solace, and when the need for food and money carried him inside cities and towns, he played his bowed lyre—solo—for meal and board. The magic in his blood—and in his instruments—strengthened as the new sole focus of his life. He listened for new songs that would heal him, guide him, and rebuild him; he listened for the music of the forest deities and the gods of the drow. He listened for and he spoke to the spirits of the fey who claimed themselves his ancestor. He traveled westward, hitch-hiking, caravan-riding, sea-faring, listening and searching for the music behind the veils between planes. He sought forgiveness. He sought a new home. He sought a new life in Waterdeep, as far west as he could imagine, as the music in his heart burgeoned into magic.
The satyr archfey Hyrsam found him as he traveled. For years—more than a decade—Jin traveled as an entertainer, from city to city, port to port, forest to forest, reaching for the walls of this plane with the strumming of his lyres. Hyrsam, the savage deity of song, dance, and celebration, returned Jin's pleading lyre call with the song of his pipe-flute, and with the sounding of his Horn of Revelry. Even as Jin settled at last into Waterdeep, where he was able to start his life anew as a Bard, the so-called Prince of Fools danced behind him and haunted his nights. If Jin left the city to spend his evenings under the Ardeep canopy, the chaotic reveler would already be there. Notorious for his disdain of elves, yet tempered by his pride of all things fey-touched, the wily lesser god followed Jin through the forests of his travels and at last heeded Jin's call for a pact. This was a pact of desperation as well as ambition, a pact borne of loneliness as well as wanderlust—in offering himself to Hyrsam, Jin sought to tether himself to something real in this world.
Additional Info and OOC notes:
Thanks for reading, and for considering my application!
Jin is a Bard with a Warlock subclass, which can hopefully meet your offensive spellcaster needs!
Posting once a day sounds really good. EST time zone here. Thanks again for reading, and let me know if there's anything I can do to strengthen the application!
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Any campaign that has been going for as long as yours has is definitely worth checking out. And it would be great to give a sorcerer a try (I've always skewed rogue, fighter and cleric).
I'll roll some stats and post the character in another post - otherwise I seem to always get 'manipulated' dice roll warnings.
His village was attacked and Terranth was abducted at a young age from the Spine of the World, his family lost during the conflict. He grew up as a pet and servant to a orc barbarian clan east of the Kingdom of Many Arrows. Only when his dormant innate magic boomed to life was he able to take advantage a the chaotic moment and escape into the Cold Wood. He practiced his magics and somehow found his way to Silverymoon, where he took time to heal wounds physical and spiritual. He is still haunted from his flight, but endeavors to do some good in the world if not only to remind himself it exists.
Class/subclass: Warlock/The Fiend/Pact of the Tome
Backstory:
Alessa was the product of a union between a Yuan-ti pureblood masquerading as an adviser to a human royal court, and one of the ladies-in-waiting of that court. When Alessa's mother became pregnant, the pureblood convinced everyone that he had nothing to do with it and that she was a woman of low morals. When she was born, Alessa and her mother were ostracized and cast out, losing all their titles and possessions, forced to live on the streets. Alessa's mother died a few years later of grief and rage and poverty.
Alessa managed to survive, but she always swore to herself that she would never follow in her father's footsteps. But when her own powers began to develop, she was feared, mocked and rejected by those around her. Bitter and afraid, she booked passage on a ship to start a new life across the sea. But a great storm arose, and she was shipwrecked on a rocky outcropping, the lone survivor. Full of frustration and rage, she called out to the gods for deliverance, but there was no answer. Finally, she turned to darker powers, asking for rescue, pledging to serve them if they would save her life. Sseth, the Sibilant Death, god of the Yuan-ti saw a chance to reclaim a stray, and appeared to her, offering to rescue her, and if she would promise to serve him, to grant her power. Seeing no other choice, she accepted. The evil god then transported her to the mainland of Faerun.
She constantly struggles between the pull of evil from her patron and her parentage, and her hatred of her father and his evil nature. (Alignment Chaotic Neutral)
Name: Zasheir Rein Race: Fire Genasi Class: Sorcerer (Draconic Bloodline) Background: Criminal
Ability Scores: Rolled above - 16,9,12,11,12,15
Backstory:
Zasheir Rein awoke on the edge of the Calim Desert south of Memnon with no memory of who he is or how he got there. He was found by a passing caravan and taken in as a slave to tend the camels.
The beasts were hard to work with and the caravan guards and the trader in charge were brutal taskmasters. He was whipped often, but when a camel fell lame and Zasheir was unable to mend the broken leg while they camped at an oasis, Zasheir was beaten mercilessly. Just as he almost succumbed to his injuries, something changed inside him. Raw power flowed through his veins, his skin hardened and his hair and eyes began to flicker and glow like flames. Zaheir unleased fire from his hands and burned the tents of their camp to the ground, killing some of the guards and the trader as well. He fled from the scene of carnage at the oasis and traveled north.
He first learned to live on the streets in Memnon, becoming a capable thief, but as he became known to local authorities he kept moving north, living for a time in Zazesspur, Athkatla, and Baldur's Gate, where he finally started to learn to control his power.
But still unsure of his past and where this mysterious power came from, Zasheir has continued to head north. He thought he had finally found a place to accept him in Waterdeep but his growing power and attraction to valuable objects led to an incident in Silavene's casino, with a burned table, a noble woman in a smoking dress, and an angry half-orc bodyguard. Zaheir decided to head inland until the heat (literally) dies down. He has spent the last few weeks doing odd jobs in small towns and villages throughout the High Forest.
Lucien was born in Silverymoon to a father who was a scholar in the Vault of Sages and a mother who worked as a guard for the Vault. They met at work of course, a passionate dalliance that resulted in an unplanned pregnancy. His father didn't have much in the way of means as a simple scholar and was honest and up front about that fact, however she simply wanted to enjoy having the child and said that he didn't need to concern himself with them any longer. That held true up until his birth, when his father was invited to visit out of courtesy. The mage did experience a strange fascination with meeting such a small person that seemed so familiar and yet alien, but ultimately continued keeping their lives separate outside of work.
At least until an overzealous book lover turned vicious thief and in their eagerness to escape unhindered, dealt a fatal blow to her. With no other family to help take him in, Lucien fell into the care of his estranged father at the age of nine. It was an awkward several months as the two began to get to know each other and how they felt about the situation and each other. Darius didn't try very hard to make his son comfortable in his new living arrangements, school or life, though he certainly wasn't abusive or entirely neglectful. Simply absent. Always away doing research and working.
Which left an entirely large gap of free time for Lucien to be bored out of his mind. At first he tried to just throw himself into his schoolwork but that couldn't hold his attention for long, his mind already far ahead of his peers his age. That lead him to sneaking a peak at some of the books that Darius would bring home. He learned a lot about the basics of magic and how it worked as well as the different schools of magic. And out of all of them, Conjuration sparked Lucien's interest the most. The idea of summoning things and even creatures from nothing or entirely different planes fascinated him. And the idea of having a friend or bodyguard whenever he wanted didn't hurt either. But Darius only had so many books at home that could provide the knowledge he was seeking. So he had to risk going into the Vault of the Sages.
It was fairly easy to avoid Darius himself as he didn't work in any of the sections where the general public was. It was the getting in part that was troubling. His mother had left him a healthy inheritance to get by and provide for his living expenses for years to come. Lucien only hesitated a little before beginning to use it to buy him access to read the books he wanted. They were cheap at first but over the years as he learned on his own, it became more expensive as the more complex and magical in nature the tomes were. Eventually his mother's savings ran dry and Lucien knew he had to make a good amount of money quickly.
After doing his own social research he concluded that most 'exotic dancers' made a large amount of coin for the shortest amount of work if done well. So at the age of eighteen he went to a few establishments before one finally employed him. The work turned out to be a bit more challenging than he had originally calculated and meant dealing with more idiots than he would ever care to, but at least he was getting more than compensated. Reading by day and dancing by night eventually earned him a way to pay for tuition to be enrolled as a student in the Vault.
He continued like that for a while, still managing to avoid his father, until he was offered an alternative employment through the Vault of Sages via becoming a "Finder". One who would either find new tomes or scrolls to bring to the Vault, or retrieve lost or stolen copies and bring back to the Keepers care. A book bounty hunter if you will. It did occasionally become violent but Lucien quickly acclimated to the work. Most recently the Keepers charged him with Finding a particular tome that was said to be in Ravensglade Keep, though the wizard was not prepared for what he found there...
RP Sample:
He didn't want to die. That was clear, that is what any sane person had on there mind in these times and even more so in these sorts of situations. The ones where one was going in blind, where the once so straight forward thought of kill or be killed was starting to blur and contort. His grip on his weapons were tight as ever, he felt that they might just break and in which case he might as well just throw in the towel. But once again, the brunette girl was the one that he had to think of, he thought of dying being more of a hindrance on her than anything else.
It was then that the door began to open itself, ever so slowly be in the frozen landscape around them, any movement stood out like a spotlight in even the dimmest of lights. He needed to be ready for anything but the only things on his mind were that someone living was on the other side of that door and who knows when the next biter would find a sound worth investigating.
"You at the door. Stop right there or I will shoot." He turned his attention onto the door more so but would glance behind him for a second to make sure there was no movement or scrambling to be heard from an unwanted guest but would just as quickly return his eyes back to the door.
Roll Stats: Ability scores: Ability scores: 181714151815
1) Has someone enabled content sharing in the campaing?
2) May we have a brief summary of the history of the campaign up to the present moment (just to get an idea of what was the story connecting the various quests already played - if there is any)?
Ella's parents betrayed their goddess when they turned to worship of devils. They were excommunicated from the temple of Sharindlar, goddess of healing and mercy, and when they fled they abandoned their young daughter. Deciding Ella was innocent of her parents' crimes, the temple kept her and raised her as an acolyte.
Growing up, though the priests insisted no one judged her for what her parents had done, Ella always felt as though she was held to higher standards than the other acolytes, treated with suspicion they weren't. Where some might have responded with rebellion, though, she doubled down, burying herself in her studies, in her worship, desperate to prove herself as more than her traitorous parentage. Which isn't to say that she disliked it--Ella found solace in Sharindlar's indiscriminate care and compassion, and when she allows herself to think of her parents she finds herself wondering how they could have ever turned their backs on such a loving goddess.
Like any place where clerics gather, the temple was always host to someone who needed help, and Ella realized pretty early on how much she wanted to help as many people as she could. More than just the people who came to the temple, because they were only a tiny fraction of all the suffering people in the world. So when she began to manifest divine magic of her own, bestowed upon her by her goddess, the choice was clear. She left the temple, left the mountains for the outside world, away from the judgement she grew up immersed in. Ella knows she can't help the entire world alone, but she can damn well try. And now it's taken her to the High Forest.
Long ago, a Firbolg came to live among the population of Hartsvale. He was met with curious caution by the tribes living there, as he came from the frozen North, but he was friendly, and helpful, and eventually came to be viewed as a full member of the community. He never gave a name, and they never asked him for one, having none themselves. He never spoke of where he came from, only that he was travelling and thought to settle here a while. 'A while' turned into many years. Firbolgs are naturally long lived, so at first it did not seem strange when the first hundred years came and went, and the stranger started a family. Another century came and went. And another. And one more. By now even the most hardy of Firbolg would have begun to show signs of old age, but those who had first met him as a youth and now approached the end of their own lives would swear that he looked the same as he ever had. His family had grown to the seventh generation, and his third mate neared the end of her first pregnancy. For the first time he seemed impatient with the world, and with Hartsvale. But when the child was born, she was born with pure white hair, and beneath it glistened the subtle shimmer of silver scales. The mother and others of the community present watched in shock as he took his newest child in hand, and raised her up before them, speaking "This child, and the generations that will come from her, will be your shield against the world. I have done what I can, though you did not know it. Now it is her turn." He handed the child back to the mother, and left the wooden building. They watched him walk to wide open space between the trees, and then he stood there no longer. Instead an almighty dragon towered over them, over the trees even. It's silver scales shone in the winter sunlight, and it's noble face looked down at them and said simply "I thank you for your hospitality." Then with great gusts from its wings it lifted up, and flew away to the south.
At least, that was the story. Our Silver is certainly the most recent to carry that title, and to carry the white hair and under the hair the scales, and some power over ice, water and wind. She also carries the expectation of the clan - she was their face to the world, to the human and giant populations of Hartsvale. She learned of a word, diplomacy, and was raised to practice it, and to protect their forest home. This would lead, in her 230th year, to her leaving the only home she had ever known.
A human lord wished to build a grand palace. It would require a lot of wood, and he sent men to begin the felling of the woods where her clan lived. Silver interrupted their work, politely asking them to stop. Perhaps they could make an arrangement, a trade for a certain amount of trees in exchange for other goods. But the workers laughed. Their lord had no interest in trade. He was taking these trees. Was she going to stop them? She had never met such stubborn arrogance before. They set about their work again, and she shouted at them to stop, pulled axes from hands. They turned on her, and began to beat her. She threw them off with a rage she did not know she held inside her, and she killed them, their frozen corpses scattered among the trees. She wept among the carnage. One human survived - he clutched at a freezing wound to his torso and shrieked at her as he fled "My lord will end you! You're dead meat, giant-kin!" At this she knew she could not go back to her clan. Her presence put them in danger, perhaps if she was not to be found, they would be left in peace. But moreso, she was a killer. They would reject her once they had found out what she had done. She was supposed to be a shield, not a sword. Firbolgs did not kill. Her family would hate her. She got up, and began to walk south. I will follow the path of my ancestor, she thought. She had heard tales of the High Forest, the greatest forest in the world. Perhaps I will find solace there.
Name:Preswenys Race:Firbolg Class:Ranger (Swarmkeeper with Fey Touched feat) Background:Hermit
Ability Scores:STR 12 DEX 14 CON 15 INT 13 WIS 16 CHA 10 (rolled in post 35)
Backstory:
The concept of naming someone seems peculiar to Preswenys, so she refers to the naming system as 'a collection of sounds' to address someone. Anyway, she can not reject the necessity of using a name. Her giant-kins name each other, so why not claim a nice name for herself?
She's been living in seclusion for years after losing contact with her clan. But she still feels an invisible string of solidarity connecting her with the clan, a firbolg settlement situated in a place that's only part of a distant memory. So, without her ancestral house and kin, she has accepted the forest as her home and the trees, shrubs, foliages as her kin. Animals and fey creatures found occasionally in Faerun are her relatives too. That's why she always tries to protect them from poachers, hunters or humanoid mobs.
She's self-educated to read and write in dwarvish scripts. But using the books, booklets left behind by far travelers, wanderers and adventurers; she has learnt multiple languages. Close contact with nature and animals has influenced her to pick up the hobby of herbalism. During her leisure time, she discovered something of great value after coming across a treeline that marks the entrance to fey crossroads. She's still in possession of the otherworldly knowledge believing herself to be some sort of protector.
Ok, I've made my decision, so this thread is now closed. I will say that I had SOOOOO many good applicants here with great character ideas and backgrounds, which made it VERY had to choose. Believe me, I know that it's a bummer to come up with a great character idea and then not be chosen, so I want to thank everyone who applied and took the time to write awesome descriptions and back stories. If I ever need another player, or if I decide to start another game in the future, I'll definitely come back to this thread to look for potential characters.
Ability scores: 13 15 12 11 18 11
Name: Olwalyn
Race: Half-elf mark of the storm
Class: Evocation wizard
Background: Sage
Olwalyn is a half-elf who has always had been interested in the power of nature. How fire can destroy everything, how water helps to put fire out, the amazing power of storms. From an early age he studied these kind of things and soon he found himself with certain possibilities of creating a gust of wind out of nowhere. So he found someone who could help him control and harnass these powers. This person was a wizard and he thought him the ways of evocation wizards. Since than he travelled to find more and more about these kind of powers. Sometimes taking jobs for money, sometimes travelling pure for himself. His latest job brought him onto a ship along the Dessarin river, to help protect the merchant ship during their travels, and to hide it at certain moments in the fogs he could create.
"grandpa" Salkur, deep gnome artificer/sorcerer: Spiderwrangler's Forged in Chaos | Pepin, Human Artificer/cleric: Goblin horde | Mixtli, Volcano Genasi Artificer: Champions of the Citadel
Ability scores: 16 15 12 12 14 15
Race: High elf
Class: Wizard
Alignment: NG
Backstory etc to follow via PM. Need to spend a little time thinking.
Name: Jin Grey
Race: Half-Elf
Class: Bard (Warlock)
Background: Entertainer
Physical Description:
At 6’1”, his skin the color of deep dark oakwood, his eyes silvery-bright and wide like almonds, Jin Grey appears neither human nor drow, but a stormcloud mix of both. If not for the impossible silver-sheen of his elven eyes, he’d pass for a taller-than-average Rashemi human. The dark black beard shaping his jaw and chin, streaked here and there with red and gold and copper strands, reveals him to be no full elf. His thick dark hair falls to his shoulders in braided pleats.
He wears the costume of a musician, or an entertainer—dark silks ribboned and cloaked over his tall lithe body, the colors of midnight and deep dusk—and indeed he carries a seven-string lyre at his hip. Over his back he drapes a larger, three-stringed lyre, with an accompanying bow, nestled against the backpack and bedroll strapped over his shoulders. A curved rapier with an ornamental hilt sits sheathed at his waist. Around his neck he wears the trinket of a former admirer: an iron holy symbol, shaped like a figure-eight, devoted to an unknown god.
Personality:
Intimidating and charismatic both, Jin Grey is a tower of storm beaming with a bright white smile. He makes himself the center of attention in an attempt to control his surroundings: so long as everyone’s watching him play his lyre or recite his ancient fey poetry, he feels safe. Half-drow and half-human, he knows no home but for the open road and the vast night sky. His fey ancestry haunts him in ways he doesn’t understand, and he’s enchanted and terrified by it. He seeks new songs like others seek love or fortune. Tall, lithe and dexterous, he fits the description of a versatile stage performer.
Backstory:
Jin Grey will tell you he’s journeying to find a new song—the one which haunts him, the whispers of which he hears even now—but what he won’t tell you is that he’s running away. Nearing his fortieth year (though his half-elf blood makes this nearly impossible to discern), finding himself somewhere between youth and half-elven maturity, he’s determined now to put as much distance as he can between where he comes from and where he’s headed.
Born in the Urlingwood forest to a Wychlaran mother, raised in the hidden grove town of Urling, Jin considered the untamed wild of north Rashemen his earliest companion. His mother—a hathran “learned sister”—divided her loyalty between her half-elf son and the othlor witches whom she served. The depths of the Urlingwood forest remain forbidden to any but the Wychlaran initiates; as the male child of a witch, Jin inhabited the delicate space between the arcane magic of his mother’s sisterhood and the Rashemi commonfolk of Urling where he lived. Foreign travelers to Urling were few but storied, and the town’s lone inn, The Green Chapel, served as a second home for the child whenever his mother returned to the darkest depths of the forbidden forest.
At seven, he was given to his father in the Underdark. Donning the traditional hathran mask she wore in all public spaces, dark and ornamented with two long curved horns, Jin's mother led him by the hand through one of the witches’ known entrances into the cavernous underworld. After what seemed an eternity of traveling through treacherous dark, she pushed through a cave guarded by a wall of spiderwebs and handed the boy to the drow male who lived there. The cave was ornate, majestic, studded with dark gemstones and glowing with soft magic fungi. The man by contrast was dark, quiet, and stared at Jin with the same silver-bright elven eyes which separated the boy from his human peers.
Both parents understood magic through the art of performance, music, and ritualistic dance, and they passed this training to their child. But where Jin’s mother communed with the spirit deities of her forest, celebrating and worshiping the chaotic bounty of nature, Jin’s father felt himself tortured under the competing whims of rival goddesses Lolth and Eilistraee. He’d torn himself from the drow settlements of Undrek'Thoz and hid himself behind spiderwebs and inscriptions to Lolth. And yet, even as he gave worship to the spider goddess, the presence of her daughter—Ellistraee, goddess of song, dance, freedom, and moonlight—seemed to haunt him like light seeping under the crack of a door.
Three years Jin lived in the dark with his drow father. The Underdark is quick to turn hostile to half-elves, and his time underground was a lonely one. His father, though intelligent, industrious, and resourceful, lived in fear of his gods and his own peers. Jin took solace in magic, music, and books of history. His father trained him in the haunting, dirgeful lament of the bowed lyre, a profound contrast to the sprightly faerie-songed hand lyre strung for him by his witch mother. The music—transcending the gods and spirits of both his parents—had always served as Jin’s light and shield against the unknown; in the Underdark, it also became his sword.
He left the Underdark at age 10 without protest from his father: neither drow nor human, Jin’s path was never destined to be tethered to the sedentary, limited domain of either of his parents. His mother’s power was contained to her forest, just as his father was constrained underground beneath the sunlight; Jin emerged from the Underdark with his two lyres and returned briefly to Urling before embarking for the Rashemen capital of Immimar. He found employ as a young entertainer, drifting between paid gigs at inns, busking on street corners, and, more lucratively, rounding out troupes of would-be adventurers and performers as a versatile hired hand.
One such traveling troupe of actors brought him on as a charismatic and musical young face of their party; and they kept themselves fed not only through their performances of historic plays, but also by pilfering the pockets, cupboards, and treasure rooms of their unwitting noble hosts. Jin fell into the criminal gang’s ranks without hesitation or question; he played his arcane music for the faerie gods of nature and chaos and he reveled in delivering outstanding performances as an actor, even as his troupe leaders silently cut the purses of those who watched. Still young, he considered himself innocent, untethered, unbeholden to the ever-changing values of human societies; he felt himself more at home in the untamed wilds of the forest than any tavern or inn; and he took such joy in the smiles of his troupe mates and the camaraderie they shared that he let himself be swept by their indomitable will towards freedom.
He fell in love, too, with another young man in the troupe. They were lost souls together, he was sure, and Jin found a new home in the man’s soft blue eyes and the gold-brown stubble at his chin. For a time, Jin was content, traveling ever westward with the company of actor-thieves, leaving them only when his wanderlust forced him to spend a few nights under the trees or under the stars, away from the cities, hands clasped with his partner’s as they made beautiful music together; for a time, he was content, until he turned 20 and his happiness crumbled to dust. An ambitious, dangerous performance close to his home town of Urling, staged inside the haunted catacombs of the Fortress of the Half-Demon, invited various wealthy and thrill-seeking adventurers to witness the show. The event was an unmitigated disaster: the audience caught on to the troupe’s attempted theft, and turned on the company in violence; the Fortress itself then turned on troupe and audience alike, as vampiric monsters spewed from the depths of the catacombs to feast on the chaos within their halls. Bodies quickly became corpses. Jin’s blue-eyed acting partner was one among the countless killed.
In the aftermath, the troupe disbanded without a trace. Jin withdrew into himself, finding himself at home now only in the wilderness. He allowed himself to keep moving westward, westward, as far away from Urling, the Underdark, and the Fortress of the Half-Demon as his travels could take him. His music became his solace, and when the need for food and money carried him inside cities and towns, he played his bowed lyre—solo—for meal and board. The magic in his blood—and in his instruments—strengthened as the new sole focus of his life. He listened for new songs that would heal him, guide him, and rebuild him; he listened for the music of the forest deities and the gods of the drow. He listened for and he spoke to the spirits of the fey who claimed themselves his ancestor. He traveled westward, hitch-hiking, caravan-riding, sea-faring, listening and searching for the music behind the veils between planes. He sought forgiveness. He sought a new home. He sought a new life in Waterdeep, as far west as he could imagine, as the music in his heart burgeoned into magic.
The satyr archfey Hyrsam found him as he traveled. For years—more than a decade—Jin traveled as an entertainer, from city to city, port to port, forest to forest, reaching for the walls of this plane with the strumming of his lyres. Hyrsam, the savage deity of song, dance, and celebration, returned Jin's pleading lyre call with the song of his pipe-flute, and with the sounding of his Horn of Revelry. Even as Jin settled at last into Waterdeep, where he was able to start his life anew as a Bard, the so-called Prince of Fools danced behind him and haunted his nights. If Jin left the city to spend his evenings under the Ardeep canopy, the chaotic reveler would already be there. Notorious for his disdain of elves, yet tempered by his pride of all things fey-touched, the wily lesser god followed Jin through the forests of his travels and at last heeded Jin's call for a pact. This was a pact of desperation as well as ambition, a pact borne of loneliness as well as wanderlust—in offering himself to Hyrsam, Jin sought to tether himself to something real in this world.
Additional Info and OOC notes:
Thanks for reading, and for considering my application!
Jin is a Bard with a Warlock subclass, which can hopefully meet your offensive spellcaster needs!
Posting once a day sounds really good. EST time zone here. Thanks again for reading, and let me know if there's anything I can do to strengthen the application!
Any campaign that has been going for as long as yours has is definitely worth checking out. And it would be great to give a sorcerer a try (I've always skewed rogue, fighter and cleric).
I'll roll some stats and post the character in another post - otherwise I seem to always get 'manipulated' dice roll warnings.
Ability scores: 13 17 8 14 13 16
Ability scores: 14 10 12 11 15 16
Terranth Sheetscale
Dragonborn Dragonblood Sorcerer
Neutral Good
His village was attacked and Terranth was abducted at a young age from the Spine of the World, his family lost during the conflict. He grew up as a pet and servant to a orc barbarian clan east of the Kingdom of Many Arrows. Only when his dormant innate magic boomed to life was he able to take advantage a the chaotic moment and escape into the Cold Wood. He practiced his magics and somehow found his way to Silverymoon, where he took time to heal wounds physical and spiritual. He is still haunted from his flight, but endeavors to do some good in the world if not only to remind himself it exists.
Name: Alessa https://ddb.ac/characters/70407846/1tTXWt
Race: human
Actually Yuan-ti pureblood masquerading as human
Class/subclass: Warlock/The Fiend/Pact of the Tome
Backstory:
Alessa was the product of a union between a Yuan-ti pureblood masquerading as an adviser to a human royal court, and one of the ladies-in-waiting of that court. When Alessa's mother became pregnant, the pureblood convinced everyone that he had nothing to do with it and that she was a woman of low morals. When she was born, Alessa and her mother were ostracized and cast out, losing all their titles and possessions, forced to live on the streets. Alessa's mother died a few years later of grief and rage and poverty.
Alessa managed to survive, but she always swore to herself that she would never follow in her father's footsteps. But when her own powers began to develop, she was feared, mocked and rejected by those around her. Bitter and afraid, she booked passage on a ship to start a new life across the sea. But a great storm arose, and she was shipwrecked on a rocky outcropping, the lone survivor. Full of frustration and rage, she called out to the gods for deliverance, but there was no answer. Finally, she turned to darker powers, asking for rescue, pledging to serve them if they would save her life. Sseth, the Sibilant Death, god of the Yuan-ti saw a chance to reclaim a stray, and appeared to her, offering to rescue her, and if she would promise to serve him, to grant her power. Seeing no other choice, she accepted. The evil god then transported her to the mainland of Faerun.
She constantly struggles between the pull of evil from her patron and her parentage, and her hatred of her father and his evil nature. (Alignment Chaotic Neutral)
Name: Zasheir Rein
Race: Fire Genasi
Class: Sorcerer (Draconic Bloodline)
Background: Criminal
Ability Scores: Rolled above - 16,9,12,11,12,15
Backstory:
Zasheir Rein awoke on the edge of the Calim Desert south of Memnon with no memory of who he is or how he got there. He was found by a passing caravan and taken in as a slave to tend the camels.
The beasts were hard to work with and the caravan guards and the trader in charge were brutal taskmasters. He was whipped often, but when a camel fell lame and Zasheir was unable to mend the broken leg while they camped at an oasis, Zasheir was beaten mercilessly. Just as he almost succumbed to his injuries, something changed inside him. Raw power flowed through his veins, his skin hardened and his hair and eyes began to flicker and glow like flames. Zaheir unleased fire from his hands and burned the tents of their camp to the ground, killing some of the guards and the trader as well. He fled from the scene of carnage at the oasis and traveled north.
He first learned to live on the streets in Memnon, becoming a capable thief, but as he became known to local authorities he kept moving north, living for a time in Zazesspur, Athkatla, and Baldur's Gate, where he finally started to learn to control his power.
But still unsure of his past and where this mysterious power came from, Zasheir has continued to head north. He thought he had finally found a place to accept him in Waterdeep but his growing power and attraction to valuable objects led to an incident in Silavene's casino, with a burned table, a noble woman in a smoking dress, and an angry half-orc bodyguard. Zaheir decided to head inland until the heat (literally) dies down. He has spent the last few weeks doing odd jobs in small towns and villages throughout the High Forest.
Character Sheet: Zasheir Rein
Name: Lucien Austinburg
Race: Variant Human
Class: Wizard
Background: Sage
Appearance: [img]https://i.imgur.com/73DDLwk.png[/img]
Backstory:
Lucien was born in Silverymoon to a father who was a scholar in the Vault of Sages and a mother who worked as a guard for the Vault. They met at work of course, a passionate dalliance that resulted in an unplanned pregnancy. His father didn't have much in the way of means as a simple scholar and was honest and up front about that fact, however she simply wanted to enjoy having the child and said that he didn't need to concern himself with them any longer. That held true up until his birth, when his father was invited to visit out of courtesy. The mage did experience a strange fascination with meeting such a small person that seemed so familiar and yet alien, but ultimately continued keeping their lives separate outside of work.
At least until an overzealous book lover turned vicious thief and in their eagerness to escape unhindered, dealt a fatal blow to her. With no other family to help take him in, Lucien fell into the care of his estranged father at the age of nine. It was an awkward several months as the two began to get to know each other and how they felt about the situation and each other. Darius didn't try very hard to make his son comfortable in his new living arrangements, school or life, though he certainly wasn't abusive or entirely neglectful. Simply absent. Always away doing research and working.
Which left an entirely large gap of free time for Lucien to be bored out of his mind. At first he tried to just throw himself into his schoolwork but that couldn't hold his attention for long, his mind already far ahead of his peers his age. That lead him to sneaking a peak at some of the books that Darius would bring home. He learned a lot about the basics of magic and how it worked as well as the different schools of magic. And out of all of them, Conjuration sparked Lucien's interest the most. The idea of summoning things and even creatures from nothing or entirely different planes fascinated him. And the idea of having a friend or bodyguard whenever he wanted didn't hurt either. But Darius only had so many books at home that could provide the knowledge he was seeking. So he had to risk going into the Vault of the Sages.
It was fairly easy to avoid Darius himself as he didn't work in any of the sections where the general public was. It was the getting in part that was troubling. His mother had left him a healthy inheritance to get by and provide for his living expenses for years to come. Lucien only hesitated a little before beginning to use it to buy him access to read the books he wanted. They were cheap at first but over the years as he learned on his own, it became more expensive as the more complex and magical in nature the tomes were. Eventually his mother's savings ran dry and Lucien knew he had to make a good amount of money quickly.
After doing his own social research he concluded that most 'exotic dancers' made a large amount of coin for the shortest amount of work if done well. So at the age of eighteen he went to a few establishments before one finally employed him. The work turned out to be a bit more challenging than he had originally calculated and meant dealing with more idiots than he would ever care to, but at least he was getting more than compensated. Reading by day and dancing by night eventually earned him a way to pay for tuition to be enrolled as a student in the Vault.
He continued like that for a while, still managing to avoid his father, until he was offered an alternative employment through the Vault of Sages via becoming a "Finder". One who would either find new tomes or scrolls to bring to the Vault, or retrieve lost or stolen copies and bring back to the Keepers care. A book bounty hunter if you will. It did occasionally become violent but Lucien quickly acclimated to the work. Most recently the Keepers charged him with Finding a particular tome that was said to be in Ravensglade Keep, though the wizard was not prepared for what he found there...
RP Sample:
He didn't want to die. That was clear, that is what any sane person had on there mind in these times and even more so in these sorts of situations. The ones where one was going in blind, where the once so straight forward thought of kill or be killed was starting to blur and contort. His grip on his weapons were tight as ever, he felt that they might just break and in which case he might as well just throw in the towel. But once again, the brunette girl was the one that he had to think of, he thought of dying being more of a hindrance on her than anything else.
It was then that the door began to open itself, ever so slowly be in the frozen landscape around them, any movement stood out like a spotlight in even the dimmest of lights. He needed to be ready for anything but the only things on his mind were that someone living was on the other side of that door and who knows when the next biter would find a sound worth investigating.
"You at the door. Stop right there or I will shoot." He turned his attention onto the door more so but would glance behind him for a second to make sure there was no movement or scrambling to be heard from an unwanted guest but would just as quickly return his eyes back to the door.
Roll Stats: Ability scores: Ability scores: 18 17 14 15 18 15
Lazarus Ryder - Adventures Abound in Wildemount
Excuse me, just two questions:
1) Has someone enabled content sharing in the campaing?
2) May we have a brief summary of the history of the campaign up to the present moment (just to get an idea of what was the story connecting the various quests already played - if there is any)?
Name: Kariella "Ella" Oakenheart
Race: Mountain Dwarf
Class: Cleric (Life)
Background: Acolyte
Backstory:
Ella's parents betrayed their goddess when they turned to worship of devils. They were excommunicated from the temple of Sharindlar, goddess of healing and mercy, and when they fled they abandoned their young daughter. Deciding Ella was innocent of her parents' crimes, the temple kept her and raised her as an acolyte.
Growing up, though the priests insisted no one judged her for what her parents had done, Ella always felt as though she was held to higher standards than the other acolytes, treated with suspicion they weren't. Where some might have responded with rebellion, though, she doubled down, burying herself in her studies, in her worship, desperate to prove herself as more than her traitorous parentage. Which isn't to say that she disliked it--Ella found solace in Sharindlar's indiscriminate care and compassion, and when she allows herself to think of her parents she finds herself wondering how they could have ever turned their backs on such a loving goddess.
Like any place where clerics gather, the temple was always host to someone who needed help, and Ella realized pretty early on how much she wanted to help as many people as she could. More than just the people who came to the temple, because they were only a tiny fraction of all the suffering people in the world. So when she began to manifest divine magic of her own, bestowed upon her by her goddess, the choice was clear. She left the temple, left the mountains for the outside world, away from the judgement she grew up immersed in. Ella knows she can't help the entire world alone, but she can damn well try. And now it's taken her to the High Forest.
Ability scores: 17 13 15 15 13 12
Name: Silver
Race: Firbolg
Class: Sorcerer (Draconic)
Background: Folk Hero
Backstory:
Long ago, a Firbolg came to live among the population of Hartsvale. He was met with curious caution by the tribes living there, as he came from the frozen North, but he was friendly, and helpful, and eventually came to be viewed as a full member of the community. He never gave a name, and they never asked him for one, having none themselves. He never spoke of where he came from, only that he was travelling and thought to settle here a while.
'A while' turned into many years. Firbolgs are naturally long lived, so at first it did not seem strange when the first hundred years came and went, and the stranger started a family. Another century came and went. And another. And one more. By now even the most hardy of Firbolg would have begun to show signs of old age, but those who had first met him as a youth and now approached the end of their own lives would swear that he looked the same as he ever had. His family had grown to the seventh generation, and his third mate neared the end of her first pregnancy. For the first time he seemed impatient with the world, and with Hartsvale.
But when the child was born, she was born with pure white hair, and beneath it glistened the subtle shimmer of silver scales. The mother and others of the community present watched in shock as he took his newest child in hand, and raised her up before them, speaking "This child, and the generations that will come from her, will be your shield against the world. I have done what I can, though you did not know it. Now it is her turn." He handed the child back to the mother, and left the wooden building. They watched him walk to wide open space between the trees, and then he stood there no longer. Instead an almighty dragon towered over them, over the trees even. It's silver scales shone in the winter sunlight, and it's noble face looked down at them and said simply "I thank you for your hospitality." Then with great gusts from its wings it lifted up, and flew away to the south.
At least, that was the story. Our Silver is certainly the most recent to carry that title, and to carry the white hair and under the hair the scales, and some power over ice, water and wind. She also carries the expectation of the clan - she was their face to the world, to the human and giant populations of Hartsvale. She learned of a word, diplomacy, and was raised to practice it, and to protect their forest home. This would lead, in her 230th year, to her leaving the only home she had ever known.
A human lord wished to build a grand palace. It would require a lot of wood, and he sent men to begin the felling of the woods where her clan lived. Silver interrupted their work, politely asking them to stop. Perhaps they could make an arrangement, a trade for a certain amount of trees in exchange for other goods. But the workers laughed. Their lord had no interest in trade. He was taking these trees. Was she going to stop them? She had never met such stubborn arrogance before. They set about their work again, and she shouted at them to stop, pulled axes from hands. They turned on her, and began to beat her. She threw them off with a rage she did not know she held inside her, and she killed them, their frozen corpses scattered among the trees.
She wept among the carnage. One human survived - he clutched at a freezing wound to his torso and shrieked at her as he fled "My lord will end you! You're dead meat, giant-kin!" At this she knew she could not go back to her clan. Her presence put them in danger, perhaps if she was not to be found, they would be left in peace. But moreso, she was a killer. They would reject her once they had found out what she had done. She was supposed to be a shield, not a sword. Firbolgs did not kill. Her family would hate her. She got up, and began to walk south. I will follow the path of my ancestor, she thought. She had heard tales of the High Forest, the greatest forest in the world. Perhaps I will find solace there.
Abilities: 13 14 10 14 8 9
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
I think I'll ignore those stats and go with Point Buy, if selected.
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
I see lots of great submissions. Perhaps, you'll need a ranger in your party, a support caster.
Ability Scores: 7 10 14 15 10 14
InkedBee (Undead_Analyst)
Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts - Jenviel Tsumara: Fallen Aasimar- Monk|Crimson Sands of Time - Navarra Iltazyara: Human- Druid/Warlock| Bleak Prospect - Ermasnietsz: Reborn- Clockwork Soul Sorcerer
Name: Preswenys
Race: Firbolg
Class: Ranger (Swarmkeeper with Fey Touched feat)
Background: Hermit
Ability Scores: STR 12 DEX 14 CON 15 INT 13 WIS 16 CHA 10 (rolled in post 35)
Backstory:
The concept of naming someone seems peculiar to Preswenys, so she refers to the naming system as 'a collection of sounds' to address someone. Anyway, she can not reject the necessity of using a name. Her giant-kins name each other, so why not claim a nice name for herself?
She's been living in seclusion for years after losing contact with her clan. But she still feels an invisible string of solidarity connecting her with the clan, a firbolg settlement situated in a place that's only part of a distant memory. So, without her ancestral house and kin, she has accepted the forest as her home and the trees, shrubs, foliages as her kin. Animals and fey creatures found occasionally in Faerun are her relatives too. That's why she always tries to protect them from poachers, hunters or humanoid mobs.
She's self-educated to read and write in dwarvish scripts. But using the books, booklets left behind by far travelers, wanderers and adventurers; she has learnt multiple languages. Close contact with nature and animals has influenced her to pick up the hobby of herbalism. During her leisure time, she discovered something of great value after coming across a treeline that marks the entrance to fey crossroads. She's still in possession of the otherworldly knowledge believing herself to be some sort of protector.
InkedBee (Undead_Analyst)
Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts - Jenviel Tsumara: Fallen Aasimar- Monk|Crimson Sands of Time - Navarra Iltazyara: Human- Druid/Warlock| Bleak Prospect - Ermasnietsz: Reborn- Clockwork Soul Sorcerer
Ok, I've made my decision, so this thread is now closed. I will say that I had SOOOOO many good applicants here with great character ideas and backgrounds, which made it VERY had to choose. Believe me, I know that it's a bummer to come up with a great character idea and then not be chosen, so I want to thank everyone who applied and took the time to write awesome descriptions and back stories. If I ever need another player, or if I decide to start another game in the future, I'll definitely come back to this thread to look for potential characters.