Hello, folks! I’m looking for five or six people to take part in an Eberron campaign inspired by an article from the blog of Keith Baker, Eberron's creator. This is mostly an experiment, since I intend to run a game like this for one of my in-person groups, and I’d like to see how it shakes out within a PbP. A trial run, if you will, before trying it out with my friends in real life!
My idea for this game is a Wild West-themed adventure; basically D&D’s Eberron setting meets HBO’s Deadwood. If you’re not familiar with either of those, I suggest you do some googling/reading before applying. However, you are absolutely welcome to apply if you do not have Eberron knowledge; I can help you fill in any blanks! I am looking for players who have good role-playing skills. This game will be a mix of role-playing, combat, and exploration, but at its core it is going to be a cinematic, story-driven experience.I will be running this on Discord, not on the forums, simply because I think Discord allows for better communication than DnD Beyond's forums and messaging systems do. So if you don't feel comfortable using Discord instead of the forums, this is probably not the game for you!
Here’s my pitch, part of which is taken directly from Keith Baker:
Q’barra is a wild and untamed land filled with danger and opportunity. Human (among other races) civilization grows on the fringes of the wilderness while beasts, monsters, and communities of reptilian humanoids populate the interior’s jungles and swamps. Ancient ruins dating back to the Age of Demons lurk in the jungle, surrounded by rumors of long-lost secrets and prehistoric treasure. Q’barra also boasts vast deposits of Eberron dragonshards, magical jewels that are vital to Khorvaire’s magical economy. Following the end of the Last War, waves of refugees, merchants, deserters, adventurers, and ne’er do wells have made their way over the Endworld Mountains into Q’barra looking for their fortune. Meanwhile, the local upstart kingdom of New Galifar, led by King Sebastes ir’Kesslan, seeks to further expand their territory in the region; and a loose collection of free mining towns known as Hope strives to maintain their independence.
You’ve got a stake in a small shard-mining town in Q’barra on the edge of the Hope region. The campaign is going to be centered on this town; it will serve as a hub and your actions will directly affect the success or failure of the town itself. With that said, it’s important to establish YOUR connection to the town: why you’re here, why you’ll stay if things get hard, what you’re looking for out here. In particular, there’s a few roles that you could take on.
Character Creation Ideas: Main Three Archetypes
Someone could be the Law - Someone to keep folks safe when danger comes and maintain law and order to prevent the town from falling into chaos. A paladin or fighter is well suited for this roll, but it could realistically be any class.
Someone could be the Faith - The town preacher who serves the community’s spiritual needs and guides them down a certain path. There are many faiths in Eberron, from the Sovereign Host to the Blood of Vol, but this is a small town. Your choice of faith will establish the dominant religion of the town. Logically this would be a cleric, druid, or paladin, though a divine soul sorcerer or celestial warlock could also work.
Someone could be the Money - Someone with a stake in the local business. Perhaps you run the local saloon or have a mining claim. This does not mean you have extra money to use, just that you have a stake in the economic success of the town.
These major roles do not have to be filled by you, but if you do not fill them, someone will. There’s going to be a sheriff, a preacher, and merchants that I will make as NPCs if these roles remain unoccupied. So you can deal with the Law, or you can be the Law.
We will wait until the final group is assembled to decide who gets to fill these big three pillars of the community. If there is some overlap in people's desires to take on these roles, we will talk it out and decide how to proceed. Keep in mind that while there are a limited number of people who can fill these roles, everyone will be important to the story. The group's collective actions will have an impact on the future of the town, for better or worse. There are a wide number of potential character concepts beyond the limits of the big three; here are a few in the spoiler below:
A gambler, grifter, or professional wandslinger - or a bit of all three.
An entertainer trying to maintain morale in town.
A scholar who has come here to investigate ancient ruins and/or unusual dragonshards. You could also be the local schoolteacher.
The town doctor.
A professional bounty hunter hoping that opportunity will walk through town. Are you part of House Tharashk or a freelancer?
A veteran or refugee of the Last War looking for a new start. Cyre seems like an obvious choice for a refugee, but you could realistically come from any of the nations of Khorvaire.
A roving Valenar elf or Talenta halfling could easily cross the Endworld Mountains and make their way into Q’barra.
An outlaw fleeing justice.
A scion of nobility from any of the Five Nations or New Galifar.
An heir of one of the Dragonmarked Houses. House Tharashk has a particularly strong presence out here, but many dragonmarked houses have come to Q’barra searching for profit.
A spy for a noteworthy faction.
You came to town because of a loved one, such as family or a significant other. Who brought you here? Are they still around, or have they died/gone missing? If so, are you looking for revenge?
Now that you’ve got some idea of who you could play, let’s talk about who you CANNOT play: I am restricting anyone from playing the lizardfolk, dragonborn, or kobold races.Part of this game is going to be learning more about your reptilian neighbors and developing relationships with them; whether those relationships are good or bad is up to you and your actions. Any other official race is fair play, but please no homebrew without my approval. Additionally, while Eberron is a setting that is known for shades of gray, I am not allowing characters with evil alignments. This does not mean you have to be a goody-two-shoes; it just means that you should please make a character that will at least work well in a group with other people and actually have something to care about within the town. This is D&D, after all - getting along with the group is paramount.
Finally, once we get the final group together, we will participate in another group exercise, and that is creating the town around which the adventure will be centered. I really want this to become a place that the players care about, filled with NPCs that they have meaningful relationships with. Who your characters end up being once the session zero discussions are over will affect the makeup of the town, from its residents, to its community religion, to its threats and rivals. Players will also get to establish connections between one another's characters and create NPCs that they have connections with. All in all, I really want this to be a fun, inclusive worldbuilding opportunity for both myself and the players that will be involved. Let me be clear: This game is not for the lone wolves or the murder hobos. I want players (and by extension characters) who will care about this town and its future, for they will have a direct hand in developing it.
Alright, I think that's it! Please fill out the application below. Don't worry about stats or anything yet, we'll establish how to generate those once I make the final group. Xanathar's Guide Tasha's Cauldron optional content and subclasses are allowed. RECRUITMENT IS CLOSED. Thank you all in advance, and best of luck!
UPDATE: GR_Mustang was kind enough to offer up their content sharing so folks could have access to the Eberron sourcebooks while making their characters. If you need access to the content, please use this campaign link: https://ddb.ac/campaigns/join/32546794050024983
Please note that I will delete the campaign once I pick the final group. This is only a temporary arrangement to facilitate character creation.
Character Name:
Race/Lineage:
Age:
Starting Feat: (Yep, everyone gets to start out with a feat! Except human variants, since the feat is already built in.)
Class: (We are starting at level 3, so include your subclass if applicable. Multiclassing is permitted.)
Backstory: (Please limit this to just one paragraph, just the important parts of the backstory and please put it in a spoiler. The details can be fleshed out later. Include in this backstory why the character has come to the frontier. They should have ambitions and goals. If you get picked, we're gonna do a deep dive into these characters and flesh out their backstory and motivations, so please be flexible and prepared to answer some questions.)
RP Sample: (Again, keep this brief and put it in a spoiler. If you need two, that's fine. This should only be long enough to demonstrate your RP skills and introduce me to your concept for this character. This could be anything, whether it is your character in a combat situation, a flashback to an event in the life of the character, or your character just ordering a veggie soup at the local tavern. Let your imagination and creativity guide you!)
Big Three Archetype interest: (Optional. Note that these roles will be decided once we make the final cut and discuss as a group who gets to take these spots. So please do not get married to one of them!)
Appearance: (Can be anything from a brief verbal description to art or a hero forge mini.)
Example:
Character Name: Terin Lyvas
Race/Lineage: Human
Age: 34
Starting Feat: Tough
Class: Fighter (Battle Master)
Backstory:
A proud Cyran, Terin enlisted in the army of Cyre and fought on the frontlines of the Last War during the conflict's final years, defending his homeland from the invaders of the surrounding nations. Surviving numerous battle wounds, ranging from injuries inflicted by mundane weapons to barely surviving magic spells, has made him quite tolerant to pain. After one permanent injury to his eyes left him blind, he was honorably discharged and sent home. Shortly after, he and his wife and children moved to Sharn so that he could receive new eye implants that would restore his vision. When he finally recovered from the successful implantation, Terin learned that his beloved home was destroyed by the Mourning. Stranded in Breland, he made his way to the refugee quarter of Sharn and languished there with his family for four years, barely scraping by. After hearing word of Cyran refugees heading east toward the wilderness of Q'barra seeking a new start, Terin decided to join them, promising his family that once he had prepared a life for them there he would send word for them to join him. It took about a year to get there and reach a good enough position to sustain both him and his family, but word was finally sent to them. His wife and children will be arriving any day now, but until then, he has work to do.
RP Sample:
Terin's grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, warm blood trickling from the cuts on his fingers. Between those and the wound on his shoulder and calf, he'd taken quite a few hits, but this was nothing compared to the time that Aundairian dragoon hit him square in the face with three magic missiles back in the War. Taking a deep breath, he assumed his swordsman's stance and stared down the swaggering Valenar elf that opposed him.
"I've landed four hits already - the fifth will be the last. Yield, human, and I may let you live," The elvish warrior hissed, twirling his blood-stained double scimitar.
"Not a chance." Just a split second after the words left Terin's mouth, the elf charged, going for the throat. Big mistake. With one last parry and a swift riposte, the fight was over. Another notch in his belt. Before he moved on to find somewhere to rest, Terin looked down at the elf's corpse with a pitiful shake of the head. "Poor bastard. Guess you were right: the fifth was the last."
Appearance: Terin is a well-built human man with dark hair and fair skin. He usually wears dark clothing and a pin bearing the symbol of Cyre, in honor of his lost homeland. His body and face bear many scars from his time in the Last War, but his most striking features are his eyes. They have a slightly mechanical appearance, similar to a warforged, and they give off a slight blue glow.
I love this idea, thank you for running this. I’ve got an idea for a criminal that is literally born again and turns over a new leaf and becomes a person who defends the weak and helpless to make amends for his past sins. I’ll keep adding to it today so it can be bright and shiny for you to assess tomorrow.
Backstory: once a feared lawless person, he was betrayed by his partner in crime when he would not take an innocent life. As he lay dying he looked back at his life in remorse. He wished for another chance but relegated his fate to rejoin the earth. Once darkness had overtaken him, he woke up a few weeks later. He looked around but could not place where he awoke. This was his second chance. He thanked the fates and vowed to lead a better life.
DM: Adventures in Phandalin [Khessa], The Dread of Strahd[Darya], Dragons of Stormwreck Isle [Rook], Baldur's Gate Mysteries [4-Player] Player: Oona in MO's Icewind Dale Ru's Current Status
Vitas was born and raised into a demon worshipping tribe in the Demon Wastes. His childhood plagued by horrors and his youth suppressed after torment he tried to rise above it only to succumb to tragedy and sorrow. Now he runs a small general store in a mining village, trying to forget his lost love and raise his young daughter.
Vitas woke covered in sweat, his nightmares haunting him yet another night. His burn scars inflamed it was impossible to go back to sleep. In the corner, Maya slept soundly. Vitas snuck downstairs and out into the cold night, breathing in a deep breath and embracing the night.
"When does it stop?" he asked. And as he did, he felt the goosebumps as the voice answered - "Never old friend, your torment is eternal as punishment for your betrayal"
Do you know about those kind of a crazy preachers that bother people all around with their prophecies? He is that kind of guy. He was an humble blacksmith once, in a small village before he had a "call". He started to hearing God's voice and doing prodiges such healing wounds until he start to feel he needs to whip out the evilness and redime the sinners, protect the land of the men and conquering new one's for God's sake. So he got his blacksmith hammer and his holy book (it took a while to learn how to read actually), wore a rusty armor and makes his way into the wilderness
Role: Faith
Other: this one is quite ready but I am also developing another concept, playing a Barbarian, I will chose the one who fits better the lore and necessity of the group
Breol hails from the Talenta Plains. There he adored traveling with his nomadic tribe and learning the hidden secrets found in nature. He also had to uses those secrets to defend his tribe during the last war. There was only a handful left by the end. The few that were left joined another tribe. Feeling bitter Breol refused to join and left once more traveling the Talenta Plains. Recently he has had very vivid dreams of a land beyond the End World Mountains. Seeing this as a good omen Breol packed his few possessions and left for this new land in hopes of finding a place for himself.
RP Sample:
Breol woke in a sour mood by the embers of a campfire. He has spent the last few days traversing the End World Mountains. Breol grumbles as he breathes in the crisp cold air. A moment later he had gathered some sticks and stokes the embers. A shrill scream pierces the relative stillness of the night. He drops the bundle of sticks and weaves his hand in the air spring forth fire in the palm of his hand. Sickening wet crunches follows. Mustering his courage Breol stalks into the brush.The silhouette of a creature can be made out in the distance. Breol filled with a mixture of fear and stubbornness, he enters the clearing ready for battle only to find its a Bladetooth which is a dinosaur commonly seen on the Talenta Plains, eating a rabbit. Breol whispers in a soothing tone as he gently places his hand on the dinosaur "This is no place for you. Go back and be with your kind" The dinosaur somehow understood and left. For the first time in a long while Breol smiled. "I will take that as a good omen. Perhaps I will find my home in this strange land"
He, MightyOwl. Interested in exploring the Eberron setting and very intrigued by the concept.
Name: Anton Martan
Race: Human
Age: 31
Feat: Keen Mind
Class: Artificer/Battlesmith
Backstory
Anton was a soldier from Cyre who lost everything on the Day of Mourning, his family, his homeland, his sense of purpose. He was stationed outside of Cyre, fighting on the front lines when the catastrophe struck, which is seen by some as a stroke of luck and by others as a cruel twist of fate. Already a skilled artificer, trained by some of the best artificers in Eston, he served his unit well in creating tools of destruction and springing into action with his steel defender where the fighting was the thickest, felling foes and rescuing fellow soldiers. That was all gone. Now, he joined the stream of refugees looking for a place to build a new start in a place called, fittingly enough, Hope.
RP sample
The sound of hammer ringing against iron echoes in the shop. It wasn’t really much of a shop, not yet anyway, just a hastily constructed wooden lean-to in the outside of a cluster of small buildings calling themselves a town. But it is a start Anton thinks to himself, a beginning of something that can bring good to others. He wipes the sweat from his eyes and returns to shaping the piece of iron in front of him, willing it to assume the shape of a pick suitable for mining, not battle, before quenching it in a barrel of water. He looks up through the steam and smoke as a shadow crosses the ground in front of the anvil. “Good morning! Can I help you? Looking for something to help stake your claim?”
Big Three Archetype Interest: Primary interest would be the Money, establishing a blacksmith shop, maybe eventually a general store to serve the town and miners. Looking to use his skills to build instead of destroy.
Appearance: Medium height and broad shouldered, Anton has tawny skin criss-crossed with scars from his battles. Piercing hazel eyes look out from underneath a tangle of dark brown, almost black curly hair. He is typically clean shaven but is nevertheless covered with sweat and grime from his work at the forge. He wears boots worn down by travel, plain leather pants, and a heavy leather half-apron when working.
Do you have content sharing as I only have the basic rules.
Yes, I will have content sharing.
GR_Mustang was kind enough to offer up their content sharing so folks could have access to the Eberron sourcebooks while making their characters. If you need access to the content, please use this campaign link: https://ddb.ac/campaigns/join/32546794050024983
Please note that I will delete the campaign once I pick the final group. This is only a temporary arrangement to facilitate character creation.
I'm going to extend the deadline for applications - instead of Sunday the 14th at 11:00 PM, I will close recruitment on Wednesday the 17th at 11:00 PM.
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Celica Maloraen | Twilight Domain Cleric 5 | Wildemount Irregulars Jasper Finch | Fighter 1 | Curious Critters - A Tal'Dorei Tale Amaris Tell | Order of Scribes Wizard 3 | Baldur's Gate Mysteries DM | Icewind Dale: Rime of the Frostmaiden
flame was created for one purpose ,destroy but before he could be turned on his creator died. He malfunctioned and now he is trying to figure out what happened.
RP sample: greetings sentient being. I am looking for someone. he died .help me. DIRECTIVE FIMD MASTER.
Starting Feat: Inspiring Leader, of course. Gotta love a good sermon.
Class: Sorcerer (Divine Soul)
Backstory:
Cain has always known the flame. From the very beginning, he was fascinated by it, obsessed with it. Even as a very young child, he would steal tinderboxes and light little fires, just to watch them go. As he grew, so did his fires, to the point where at the age of nine he accidentally set a shed on fire, and instead of attempting to put it out he just watched. In a word, he was a pyromaniac. This obsession grew and grew, and he ended up causing several house fires. He never wanted to hurt anybody, he just... couldn't help himself. However, fire is a dangerous thing, and it will turn on you in an instant. At the age of twenty-five, he almost absentmindedly ended up setting a church on fire... while he was still in it. Just a casual swing of the tail, knocking over an oil lamp. He didn't escape in time. Can you imagine the pain of sitting there, buried under burning embers which blacken and char your skin where they touch, and yet... your infernal heritage refuses to let you burn. Instead, you cook, and peel, and char, for hours. Until salvation came. A vision entered his mind, an emissary of Boldrei, the god which presided over the church that he had set aflame. Instead of punishing him, it offered him a way out. Pledge himself to Boldrei, use the fire for good instead of evil, and he would be allowed to survive. They found him hours later, charred to a crisp but still alive. He was given... I mean, I don't want to say the General Grievous treatment, but he was given the General Grievous treatment, his skin replaced by metal, his burnt and charred limbs becoming hydraulics and gears. On the inside, he is still a man, but on the outside his new parts, using similar tech to warforged, make him all metal and burning faith.
RP Sample:
"My people,"Reverend Cain growled through his brass vocal cords, the tinny tone echoing through the ramshackle church, "you must listen to me. I know how you feel. There is fear in your eyes, and doubt, oh yes, but I wanna tell you that I know what you feel. I've felt it myself, oh yes I have, so many years ago. I have felt the crushin' weight of doubt, the burnin' fire of fear that twists, and festers, and scorches you inside and out. You think there's no hope. You think we're doomed to die out here in the wilds. But I tell you, I tell you, this is not so. I wanna tell you, that fire you have inside you, that fire you think is burnin' you up, it ain't nothin' of that sort."Cain stepped up on the pulpit, eyes glowing with religious fervor. Around their edges, burnt, scarred skin could be seen. Smoke hissed out of the cracks in his metal skin as his voice boomed, amplified magically. The candles in the church all flared brightly, reflecting off of his face and chest."That fire, it burns, oh yes it does, but fire also creates anew. The forest must be razed by fire so that new life may grow in its wake, and so must you allow yourself to be consumed by your own fire, so that you can truly commit yourself to your future. Let the fire burn away your past, all the doubts and fears, and let it forge you anew, as it has me. I see in all of you the burnin' embers of a new world, and it is up to you to fuel that flame. Let it burn, so that we may create a new, wonderful world, here in the wilds of Q'Barra! Can I get an amen? I said, can I get an A-MEN!"
Big Three Archetype interest: Cain is definitely geared toward the Faith, but if need be he could potentially be an... interesting Law, considering his tendencies toward chaos (by which I mean forging your own path, recreating yourself, etc.)
Appearance:
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"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Pitch was born in Q'Barra, his parents being part of the support staff for an archaeology team sponsored by Morgrave University. Months turned in to years and the shifter family came to see the frontier as their home. Pitch, named after a mishap in his early youth with the sap of a massive tree, came to love the flora and fauna of their home, especially drawn to the colonies of bees. Under the tutelage of an entomologist, Pitch learned how to keep and care for such creatures. His father introduced him to a love of cooking, and Pitch thoroughly enjoyed keeping the camp well-fed. After saving up some money and trying his hand at brewing, Pitch is trying to convince House Ghallanda to invest in him and create a foothold for the Hosteler's Guild in a rich new market.
RP Sample:
Pitch hummed tunelessly to himself as he moved slowly through the flowers with a watering can. Bees floated by lazily, sometimes visiting the flowers and herbs he had tucked in his hair. He looked up at the brightening morning and let a small smile appear on his face. It was the quiet mornings before the camp fully awoke that he enjoyed the most: the drone of his bees, the crisp smell of the flowers in the slightly cooler air, and the quiet of the jungle as the nocturnal creatures found shelter and the diurnal ones started to stir.
Big Three Archetype interest: Money - Pitch wants to set up a saloon where he can sell his concoctions and food and explore new brewing and distilling methods using the bounty of Q'Barra.
Appearance: A tall and broad body, the shifter has thick hair framing a bemused smile and kind but sly eyes on his face. Perhaps unsettlingly, bees seem to emerge from the folds of his clothes or even his hair, and he seems to not only be unperturbed but delighted by the insects.
Larond was the product of ambition. A dream that aimed to combine gunslinging and spellcraft, merging the two into a powerful way to channel offensive magic through a mundane yet effective weapon. Larond was that dream. Their body was created with the enchantments necessary to perform such channeling of mana, with spells already programmed into them so that testing could begin right from the beginning of Larond's creation. After countless trial runs and modifications, the newly dubbed "Spellshot Larond" was sent out to the lands of Q'Barra so that their skills could be applied in a realistic environment. Larond craves combat, as each new fight is a new set of data, information, and experience that they can use to evolve their techniques. Larond wants to make their name known throughout Q'Barra as the greatest gunslinger in the land, and what better way to do that than defending a small mining town from monsters and ruffians...
RP Sample:
The town stood still in tension. Doors shut, windows closed, children ushered inside by fearful mothers. Sand sweeping through the streets with swiftness. Today was the day that a problem which had plagued this town for years would come to an end. Or would it?
The new sheriff in town stood at a mere 3'7, and the ruffians sneered down at the copper construct. They jeered, "You really think you can take us on then, mage? Well, this should be good... another name on our records, another coinpurse for the boss, and another worthless existence in this damn town quenched."The small one chuckled, stroking their golden mustache as some runes on their holstered journal glowed faintly, obscured by the sandstorm raging outside. This would be an interesting experiment indeed. They then turned around and began to take one step away. Two steps. Three... "Old fashioned little thing ye are! I'll play by your rules, and once I'm done, your scraps will make good coin for us!" The gang laughed, and the mocking leader did the same as the machine.
Four. Five. Six.
Wind whipped around the autognome, swirling sand circling them in a ring. Testing would begin soon, and with a real, living variable. How exciting!
Seven... Eight...
"Backing off? C'mon, I wanna see how far those little legs can run... No? Fine then."
Nine. The automoton didn't respond, but instead, began to hum a slow tune... the runes on their pistol brightened.
Ten.
They didn't pull the trigger, but the ruffian certainly did. Yet as the bullet flew towards them, twisting through the air like a stalking serpent, it simply... curved around the autognome. All were in shock. How could such miracles happen? But there was no time to ponder, as the robot whipped around with a runic pistol in hand, firing three searing spears of flame that melted through both of the ruffian's eyes, and his evil heart. Red, molten goo began to seep from the openings in the gang's former leader as he crumpled into the sand. All the ruffians looked up at this creature, afraid about what might happen to them next.
"Remember this and run, rats. Remember the name... Spellshot Larond."
Big Three Archetype interest: As my backstory and roleplay suggest, I'm leaning more towards The Law! It's a great way for Larond to encounter creatures that need a couple holes through them to settle matters, and for Larond to gather data, as well as improve his skills as a "Spellshot".
Appearance: Spellshot Larond wears a blue scarf over their mouth, and their entire body is relatively Gnomish, although they are made of pure copper. They sport a mustache made of golden wires, a long brown cowboy hat, and sunset orange eyes that radiate slightly with light. On their hip are two holstered items. One is a journal etched with runes that trigger their programmed spells, and Larond also uses this to write about fights, record data, and journal about their experiences in general. The second is a pistol decorated with whirring gears that channels Larond's memories of their spells into concentrated shots, beams, or shards of harmful magic.
Character Name: Crunch and Growls (Steel Defender Dog)
Race/Lineage: Warforged
Age: 34
Starting Feat: Warcaster
Class: Artificer (Battlesmith)
Backstory:
Crunch was a soldier for Cyre. He fought the invaders to a standstill. Waded through their blood. He and his companion dog-mecha Growls let the enemy know they would pay. It was blood and more blood. He knew little else, although perhaps he began to think there was more than what he was created for. Finally, the mourning came, and he ran with the rest of the people, the army he fought for and even the whole nation gone. Now, he is forced to be something else.
RP Sample:
"I have seen my share of death elf. I will end you as I have many of your brethren. Just say when. Or you can walk away now and we can all live."The elf is silent and naught can be heard but the hydraulics of Crunch's legs as he steps forward, stopping within 10 feet of the elf. Growls follows along, staying close. A low growling noise begins to come from the dog mecha breaking the silence further, as he points directly at the elf, mimicking the actions of a canine hunting dog spotting prey.
Big Three Archetype interest:
Lawman....He could see himself going from a soldier protecting his homeland to protecting the smaller villiage.
Appearance: Armored and carrying a shield and blade, Crunch stands at 6'-8" and appears a massive sight. He will rarely be seen without his constant companion, Growls a mecha-dog.
Name's Dalla, actually Dallalandria but if you call me that I'll punch your lights out.
Newbie to this world of DnD but willing to learn quick if you're brave enough to give me a chance.
Race / class etc. Happy to be guided.
Age Young
Backstory/RP
A salon girl is no 'spoiled dove' so don't touch me unless you want your fingers broken. I serve drinks to my uncle's patrons, not my body! Travelling to my only known living relative, I've just arrived longing or news of my younger sister ...
The cart rumbles on through the heat and I gaze at the thin line of smoke in the distance, a mirage, it has to be. The sun is blinding and I'm unable to focus properly, the small farmstead I call home can't be this blackened smouldering heap. I sit in stunned amazement as the horse draws me ever closer. I glance at the paddock and notice Ma's abandoned gun. Jumping to the ground before the horse has time to stop I'm running. Falling to the ground I sweep up the body lying face down sprawled next to the gun. Gingerly I turn her face towards me and lifeless eyes gaze back accusingly, 'why were you so long 'they seem to say, 'where were you when we needed you' they plead. I clutch her closer to me and sob "sorry mama, I'm so sorry".
I've no idea how long I sat apologising whilst rocking her lifeless form. Eventually I sensed the horse becoming restless and took stock of my surroundings. Nothing appeared to be left. Everything had been senselessly burnt. I wandered through the ashes touching and remembering the items of my childhood. I hesitate at Gyllian's favourite book. Gyllian! Where is Gyllian?
"Gyllian" I scream
Apperance Tall for my age. Long hair I always keep braided so it's out the way. Muscled for a girl as I was always the 'man' of the house. Think Calamity Jane.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Character Name: Kizli Arventalz
Race/Lineage: Drow
Age: 213
Starting Feat: Skill Expert
Class: Order of Scribe Wizard
Backstory:
Short Version:
Kizli is an exiled drow teacher that managed to find their way to Q'Barra. They do not seem to behave like the typical drow and as such earned a place as the local teacher for the youth in the town. often under watch or suspicion they seem undaunted and focus most of their efforts on teaching. They seem to focus heavily on teaching independent thought and teaching students what they want to learn instead of forcing them into a curriculum. A skilled wizard with vast arcane knowledge that is often seen studying or preparing lesson plans they have managed to find a place in the town.
Long Version:
Kizli was raised in the underdark with many other drow. In their youth they were taught the ways of Lloth and learned the same lessons of racial superiority and entitlement. Kizli was perhaps one of the worst for being a gifted mind. They excelled at intellectual feats of knowledge and arcane development. They quickly learned that knowledge and skill far surpassed others less gifted. However, in his youth there was a major person in their life that constantly upstaged them. Their teacher. To say they had a profound effect on them is an understatement. Kizli learned much from them as their parents were quite wealthy and allowed him to learn under Master Ortho. Kizli was taught how to take advantage of others and use cunning and knowhow to achieve their goals as well as powerful factual knowledge. Kizli could see that Master Ortho held much power over him and it didn't take long before Kizli knew they wanted to be a teacher in the future.
Kizli achieved their dream of becoming a teacher. To mold the minds of the future. In fact, they spent little time developing their own magic in favor of learning and developing a school for the drow kingdom. The current rulers of which seemed to like the idea and Kizli soon had many youths to educate. He had to teach loyalty to the drow kingdom but there was nothing he saw wrong with that. Kizli choose his students preferring those with a drive to learn. When they seemed uninterested in learning he would kick them out. He taught for a number of years having many graduate. It wasn't until later that Kizli learned their ruler's true intent for this school and the fate of their students. Where as Kizli knew knowledge was power he was forced to teach loyalty to the drow kingdom too. This made for blindly obedient and skilled drow children. The kingdom used them as pawns, sacrifices and more. it was gradual at first as Kizli learned of one dying. Then 2 are dead. Soon, Kizli discovered that most of his students have been killed.
This prompted the drow to reevaluate and perhaps with guidance from Eilistraee herself or perhaps it was just the logical outcome Kizli suddenly saw the drow kingdom for what it was. His students despite all their knowledge were brainwashed and Kizli was the unknowing pawn of the nobles of the kingdom. Kizli tried to rescue several of his remaining students but was unable to find them. His investigation unfortunately led the nobles to learn of his intention and he was forced to flee for his life. Leaving behind all he knew Kizli fled the underdark for the surface. Taking as much as he could to survive. His beliefs, his ideals, his home, and everyone he knew was lost to him.
It took some time adjusting to the surface world. The bright light always stinging but Kizli moved on. he quickly learned his race was not only not superior but also hated and mistrusted by many. he wondered from town to town, using his magic to survive and he was cunning enough to remain comfortable but he missed teaching. He missed having students. He never really realized how much he enjoyed being a teacher and having that pride that he was training the next generation to be better and smarter then the last. His wondering eventually brought him to a town in Q’barra. A small town without any teachers. It took some time but Kizli managed to convince the people there that they really only meant to teach and help. Looked at with suspicion but unable to deny his knowledge and skill at teaching the locals did agree to let him teach but there would always be someone watching him to make sure he wasn't teaching their children anything they didn't approve of.
It was a start. He may be seen with distrust but the one thing he cared about was the students. He swore to himself that he would never again let his students come to harm and that he would do anything to protect a talented mind. He would instill in them not only his vast array of knowledge but also a sense of independence. They would not be victims of any system. If anything, they will be the next generation to create the systems or rule them.
RP Sample:
The small room that Kizli finds themselves in has only 4 students in it as well as himself and one of the local parents. The small town not being able to afford larger buildings yet has at least provided a space for them to teach. It mattered not to the drow that it was a room in the back of a tavern as long as the place was giving him a chance. It's been quite a few years since he got a chance to teach but he has had a lot of time to figure out how he wants to. He looks at the four students and tries his best to ignore the glaring parent that is just there to prevent him teaching anything she doesn't approve of. The four students are not hers. She kept her child back from learning and instead wanted to see Kizli's first class. The middle aged human woman definitely judging every single aspect of Kizli. To her a lack of a teacher is not an excuse to put a shady drow in the position.
"Four Students. Four minds. I am Kizli Arventalz. I would imagine this is the first time for many of you to meet a drow. Which of you would like to ask me a question before we begin?"
Kizli looks at each of them in turn. the first one being a young girl of 10 by the name of Lilly McCorrin. Human as all but one are she seems a bit timid as Kizli looks at her. She doesn't give any reply. Kizli tries to get a sense of if they are just quiet or if they are uninterested (Insight:18).
The next child he looks at is a young boy of 9 who doesn't even seem to be quite enamored by Kizli's appearance. They pipe up with an inquisitive mind asking "What's a drow?" Kizli smiles and replies "A drow is a person like yourself but with pointy ears. We have a darker complexion of skin then many other races and tend to live underground. We have a bit of sunlight sensitivity as well which is why we are inside this room and not outside for lessons. We also live much longer then many other races and can even live over a thousands years before we die of old age."
The child seems satisfied with the reply and Kizli moves onto the next child. Another boy this one of the age 15 and human. The boy is scowling at Kizli and its clear they don't trust them. When Kizli looks to them for a question they say "My father says Drow are murderous elves that backstab everyone around them. Why should I trust you?" Kizli was actually expecting a question like this and despite having given it a lot of thought he decided that in this case an answer isn't enough as the only way to get someone to see him as more then a drow was to get them to ask questions. The mother that doesn't trust him seems interested in his reply to this question and as such Kizli replies, "Many of those tales may be true. However, not every Drow is the same just as not every human is the same. I don't want you to trust me. I want you to question me. I want you to doubt me. If you decide I can be trusted then I will be better able to teach you. If you decide I cannot I will respect it. For now I will declare my goals. Feel free to question them. I want to teach. I want to learn. I want to see my students be successful."
He pauses there and looks to the last student. The only non-human currently in his class. A tabaxi child and girl of 13. She seems a bit put on the spot as Kizli looks at her and she seems surprised to be looked at and called on. She clears her throat and replies, "How do we figure out if we can trust you?" Kizli smiles and says "By asking questions. As long as you have a desire to learn and are my student I will never refuse to answer a question."
The rest of the day was spent with Kizli teaching. The students asking various questions. Sometimes the questions had to do with the topic on hand and other times they were questions that had to do with Kizli. True to his word he answered every question. Personal and professional. He was an open book to those who questioned him. He did however reply with questions of his own to get the children to think and ponder his words and not just give them answers. This was especially true when asked questions about himself. At the end of the session with the children they headed out of the room to go to their various homes. Kizli picked up a few local books he was lent on local wildlife to return them. The mother approaches him as he does so, "Interesting class. If you speak truly then I have no objection to you teaching my daughter. She will be in your class tomorrow and I'll be there too." Kizli pauses and nods as he looks to her. He asks, "Did you have any questions for me?" She thinks on it and says "I don't know if I trust you. You seem too good to be true for a small town like this. Why did you come here anyway?"
Kizli pauses a moment as he thinks until eventually saying "I think it is because I lost everything I knew and I wanted to find somewhere new to restart. I have my own trauma that I am trying to learn from. I can also see you want to know what happened but I do request you not ask. At least not yet. I only request time for you to get to know me before asking." The question was innocent and had no ulterior motive other then just him not wanting to talk about his past at this time. She however interpreted it a bit different. "You got bravery I'll give you that Mr. Arventalz. You seem to be heartfelt in his request so I won't pry, at least not yet. Lunch tomorrow then. We will see what happens after that." With Kizli having inadvertently made a date with her somehow he is a bit confused as she leaves. The drow uncertain what to do just continues to pick up and put things away and then prepares for tomorrow's lessons.
Appearance:
A drow of average height that keeps themselves well groomed and prefers suits and more regal attire to look professional. He likes dark blues and greys or more prominent colors but will often like a white trim to add that pop of brightness on his outfits. Their platinum white hair is commonly seen on many drow as Kizli prefers the long white mane of hair with a few twists of braiding to add some flair. The dark purple colorations of skin is adorned on his body similar to other drow. his hands have smooth skin of someone that works as an intellectual more then physical. He has piercing green eyes that seem to absorb and reflect light which belies his keen darkvision that often reacts poorly to sunlight. His pointed ears are not overly exaggerated and have a few simple silver piercings in them. His build is thin and wiry and showing more akin to a nimble build rather then a muscular build. He tends to have a large satchel to his side hanging from his opposite shoulder. It contains a lot of books on various subjects he may be researching or looking up for one of his students. This also contains his spellbook. His spellbook was fashioned in a spiderlike design and seems to be well made with colors of black, purple and white.
Backstory: Jerid did not grow up in Q'Barra, but spent his youth travelling with his family moving goods from the inland of Breland to the coast and back. Both of his parents were half-elves and never had that feeling of really fitting in wherever they were so life on the road suited them. His mother had the mind for money and his father the tongue to sell while Jerid proved to be a mix between the two and took to the merchant life from a young age, but truly found his calling in creating goods instead of just selling them. He was drawn to the worship of Onatar and the art of forging metal into something useful, practical, and valuable. While his parents were happy to continue travelling Jerid settled for a time to work on his craft, but the entrepreneurial spirit instilled in him did not let him stay still for long. He won the mining rights to a proposed vein of iron and maybe more in Q'Barra and moved there to setup operations to gain access to materials for his goods and those better margins.
RP Sample:
"No luck today, you say?" Jerid asked of the dust covered man in front of him as he leaned against the anvil of his forge. He was not particularly clean himself at the moment with a coating of sweat that had ash clinging to it on his bare skin and streaks here and there along his clothes and the leather apron over his front. "According to the reports that should have been the spot..." he started and eyed the other man. He smiled, but the gesture did not exactly meet his gaze as he took stock of the fellow in front of him to gauge the truth of his words.
"No luck today, but maybe tomorrow," he said after a long breath and the other man nodded enthusiastically. He didn't speak much, this miner, and for that Jerid was thankful. Less likely to spill any secrets. A hand lifts to wave his tongs over to a small bag hanging on a hook at the door, "Take your pay, Etmer. Go get yourself something to eat and rest up, I'll head up there tomorrow with you myself to see if we can bring some better luck, yeah?"
Big Three Archetype interest: The Money
Appearance:
More rugged than handsome this half-elf stands a bit above average height but with a sturdy build and the calloused hands of a workman. His dark hair is kept short and rarely styled other than a quick comb, but still givens the appearance of being well kept and frequently cleaned. His clothes are serviceable and well-made, nothing flashy but of the sort that are made to last for a long time. A mouth of white, straight teeth give him a friendly smile that often matches to the sparkle of green eyes
Edit: Was racing the deadline for a work meeting. One minute over! Hope it makes the cut for consideration :)
Hello, folks! I’m looking for five or six people to take part in an Eberron campaign inspired by an article from the blog of Keith Baker, Eberron's creator. This is mostly an experiment, since I intend to run a game like this for one of my in-person groups, and I’d like to see how it shakes out within a PbP. A trial run, if you will, before trying it out with my friends in real life!
My idea for this game is a Wild West-themed adventure; basically D&D’s Eberron setting meets HBO’s Deadwood. If you’re not familiar with either of those, I suggest you do some googling/reading before applying. However, you are absolutely welcome to apply if you do not have Eberron knowledge; I can help you fill in any blanks! I am looking for players who have good role-playing skills. This game will be a mix of role-playing, combat, and exploration, but at its core it is going to be a cinematic, story-driven experience. I will be running this on Discord, not on the forums, simply because I think Discord allows for better communication than DnD Beyond's forums and messaging systems do. So if you don't feel comfortable using Discord instead of the forums, this is probably not the game for you!
Here’s my pitch, part of which is taken directly from Keith Baker:
Q’barra is a wild and untamed land filled with danger and opportunity. Human (among other races) civilization grows on the fringes of the wilderness while beasts, monsters, and communities of reptilian humanoids populate the interior’s jungles and swamps. Ancient ruins dating back to the Age of Demons lurk in the jungle, surrounded by rumors of long-lost secrets and prehistoric treasure. Q’barra also boasts vast deposits of Eberron dragonshards, magical jewels that are vital to Khorvaire’s magical economy. Following the end of the Last War, waves of refugees, merchants, deserters, adventurers, and ne’er do wells have made their way over the Endworld Mountains into Q’barra looking for their fortune. Meanwhile, the local upstart kingdom of New Galifar, led by King Sebastes ir’Kesslan, seeks to further expand their territory in the region; and a loose collection of free mining towns known as Hope strives to maintain their independence.
You’ve got a stake in a small shard-mining town in Q’barra on the edge of the Hope region. The campaign is going to be centered on this town; it will serve as a hub and your actions will directly affect the success or failure of the town itself. With that said, it’s important to establish YOUR connection to the town: why you’re here, why you’ll stay if things get hard, what you’re looking for out here. In particular, there’s a few roles that you could take on.
Character Creation Ideas: Main Three Archetypes
These major roles do not have to be filled by you, but if you do not fill them, someone will. There’s going to be a sheriff, a preacher, and merchants that I will make as NPCs if these roles remain unoccupied. So you can deal with the Law, or you can be the Law.
We will wait until the final group is assembled to decide who gets to fill these big three pillars of the community. If there is some overlap in people's desires to take on these roles, we will talk it out and decide how to proceed. Keep in mind that while there are a limited number of people who can fill these roles, everyone will be important to the story. The group's collective actions will have an impact on the future of the town, for better or worse. There are a wide number of potential character concepts beyond the limits of the big three; here are a few in the spoiler below:
Now that you’ve got some idea of who you could play, let’s talk about who you CANNOT play: I am restricting anyone from playing the lizardfolk, dragonborn, or kobold races. Part of this game is going to be learning more about your reptilian neighbors and developing relationships with them; whether those relationships are good or bad is up to you and your actions. Any other official race is fair play, but please no homebrew without my approval. Additionally, while Eberron is a setting that is known for shades of gray, I am not allowing characters with evil alignments. This does not mean you have to be a goody-two-shoes; it just means that you should please make a character that will at least work well in a group with other people and actually have something to care about within the town. This is D&D, after all - getting along with the group is paramount.
Finally, once we get the final group together, we will participate in another group exercise, and that is creating the town around which the adventure will be centered. I really want this to become a place that the players care about, filled with NPCs that they have meaningful relationships with. Who your characters end up being once the session zero discussions are over will affect the makeup of the town, from its residents, to its community religion, to its threats and rivals. Players will also get to establish connections between one another's characters and create NPCs that they have connections with. All in all, I really want this to be a fun, inclusive worldbuilding opportunity for both myself and the players that will be involved. Let me be clear: This game is not for the lone wolves or the murder hobos. I want players (and by extension characters) who will care about this town and its future, for they will have a direct hand in developing it.
Alright, I think that's it! Please fill out the application below. Don't worry about stats or anything yet, we'll establish how to generate those once I make the final group. Xanathar's Guide Tasha's Cauldron optional content and subclasses are allowed. RECRUITMENT IS CLOSED. Thank you all in advance, and best of luck!
UPDATE: GR_Mustang was kind enough to offer up their content sharing so folks could have access to the Eberron sourcebooks while making their characters. If you need access to the content, please use this campaign link: https://ddb.ac/campaigns/join/32546794050024983
Please note that I will delete the campaign once I pick the final group. This is only a temporary arrangement to facilitate character creation.
Character Name:
Race/Lineage:
Age:
Starting Feat: (Yep, everyone gets to start out with a feat! Except human variants, since the feat is already built in.)
Class: (We are starting at level 3, so include your subclass if applicable. Multiclassing is permitted.)
Backstory: (Please limit this to just one paragraph, just the important parts of the backstory and please put it in a spoiler. The details can be fleshed out later. Include in this backstory why the character has come to the frontier. They should have ambitions and goals. If you get picked, we're gonna do a deep dive into these characters and flesh out their backstory and motivations, so please be flexible and prepared to answer some questions.)
RP Sample: (Again, keep this brief and put it in a spoiler. If you need two, that's fine. This should only be long enough to demonstrate your RP skills and introduce me to your concept for this character. This could be anything, whether it is your character in a combat situation, a flashback to an event in the life of the character, or your character just ordering a veggie soup at the local tavern. Let your imagination and creativity guide you!)
Big Three Archetype interest: (Optional. Note that these roles will be decided once we make the final cut and discuss as a group who gets to take these spots. So please do not get married to one of them!)
Appearance: (Can be anything from a brief verbal description to art or a hero forge mini.)
Example:
Character Name: Terin Lyvas
Race/Lineage: Human
Age: 34
Starting Feat: Tough
Class: Fighter (Battle Master)
Backstory:
A proud Cyran, Terin enlisted in the army of Cyre and fought on the frontlines of the Last War during the conflict's final years, defending his homeland from the invaders of the surrounding nations. Surviving numerous battle wounds, ranging from injuries inflicted by mundane weapons to barely surviving magic spells, has made him quite tolerant to pain. After one permanent injury to his eyes left him blind, he was honorably discharged and sent home. Shortly after, he and his wife and children moved to Sharn so that he could receive new eye implants that would restore his vision. When he finally recovered from the successful implantation, Terin learned that his beloved home was destroyed by the Mourning. Stranded in Breland, he made his way to the refugee quarter of Sharn and languished there with his family for four years, barely scraping by. After hearing word of Cyran refugees heading east toward the wilderness of Q'barra seeking a new start, Terin decided to join them, promising his family that once he had prepared a life for them there he would send word for them to join him. It took about a year to get there and reach a good enough position to sustain both him and his family, but word was finally sent to them. His wife and children will be arriving any day now, but until then, he has work to do.
RP Sample:
Terin's grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, warm blood trickling from the cuts on his fingers. Between those and the wound on his shoulder and calf, he'd taken quite a few hits, but this was nothing compared to the time that Aundairian dragoon hit him square in the face with three magic missiles back in the War. Taking a deep breath, he assumed his swordsman's stance and stared down the swaggering Valenar elf that opposed him.
"I've landed four hits already - the fifth will be the last. Yield, human, and I may let you live," The elvish warrior hissed, twirling his blood-stained double scimitar.
"Not a chance." Just a split second after the words left Terin's mouth, the elf charged, going for the throat. Big mistake. With one last parry and a swift riposte, the fight was over. Another notch in his belt. Before he moved on to find somewhere to rest, Terin looked down at the elf's corpse with a pitiful shake of the head. "Poor bastard. Guess you were right: the fifth was the last."
Appearance: Terin is a well-built human man with dark hair and fair skin. He usually wears dark clothing and a pin bearing the symbol of Cyre, in honor of his lost homeland. His body and face bear many scars from his time in the Last War, but his most striking features are his eyes. They have a slightly mechanical appearance, similar to a warforged, and they give off a slight blue glow.
Celica Maloraen | Twilight Domain Cleric 5 | Wildemount Irregulars
Jasper Finch | Fighter 1 | Curious Critters - A Tal'Dorei Tale
Amaris Tell | Order of Scribes Wizard 3 | Baldur's Gate Mysteries
DM | Icewind Dale: Rime of the Frostmaiden
I love this idea, thank you for running this. I’ve got an idea for a criminal that is literally born again and turns over a new leaf and becomes a person who defends the weak and helpless to make amends for his past sins. I’ll keep adding to it today so it can be bright and shiny for you to assess tomorrow.
Name: Sam
Race: Reborn
Age: (1) 37
Starting Feat: Aberrant Dragonmark
Class: Fighter (Rune)
Role: Lawman
Backstory: once a feared lawless person, he was betrayed by his partner in crime when he would not take an innocent life. As he lay dying he looked back at his life in remorse. He wished for another chance but relegated his fate to rejoin the earth. Once darkness had overtaken him, he woke up a few weeks later. He looked around but could not place where he awoke. This was his second chance. He thanked the fates and vowed to lead a better life.
D&D since 1984
I might throw my hat in, so posting for interest.
Edit: withdrawing because I got into a diff game.
DM: Adventures in Phandalin [Khessa], The Dread of Strahd [Darya], Dragons of Stormwreck Isle [Rook], Baldur's Gate Mysteries [4-Player]
Player: Oona in MO's Icewind Dale
Ru's Current Status
Character Name: Vitas Carhaggin
Race/Lineage: Human
Age: 40
Starting Feat: Gunner
Class: Rogue/Warlock
Backstory:
Vitas was born and raised into a demon worshipping tribe in the Demon Wastes. His childhood plagued by horrors and his youth suppressed after torment he tried to rise above it only to succumb to tragedy and sorrow. Now he runs a small general store in a mining village, trying to forget his lost love and raise his young daughter.
RP Sample:
Vitas woke covered in sweat, his nightmares haunting him yet another night. His burn scars inflamed it was impossible to go back to sleep. In the corner, Maya slept soundly. Vitas snuck downstairs and out into the cold night, breathing in a deep breath and embracing the night.
"When does it stop?" he asked. And as he did, he felt the goosebumps as the voice answered - "Never old friend, your torment is eternal as punishment for your betrayal"
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A nearly 50 years old lifetime role-player and gaming nerd
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Level 5 Half-Orc Barbarian Krugh in Warriors of Sehanine by Dylanthalas
Level 1 Half-Drow Warlock Qin'Tar T'Saria in The Shards of Miranos by PinkPygmyPuff307
Character Name: Father Jeremiah McCalmond
Race/Lineage: Human
Age: 40
Starting Feat: shield master
Class: Paladin
Backstory:
Do you know about those kind of a crazy preachers that bother people all around with their prophecies? He is that kind of guy. He was an humble blacksmith once, in a small village before he had a "call". He started to hearing God's voice and doing prodiges such healing wounds until he start to feel he needs to whip out the evilness and redime the sinners, protect the land of the men and conquering new one's for God's sake. So he got his blacksmith hammer and his holy book (it took a while to learn how to read actually), wore a rusty armor and makes his way into the wilderness
Role: Faith
Other: this one is quite ready but I am also developing another concept, playing a Barbarian, I will chose the one who fits better the lore and necessity of the group
If needed my discord name is: Grandpa's Cup#4847
Character Name: Breol Tenpenny
Race: Ghostwise Halfling
Age: 25
Starting feat: Skilled Expert
Class: Druid/ Circle of Stars
Backstory:
Breol hails from the Talenta Plains. There he adored traveling with his nomadic tribe and learning the hidden secrets found in nature. He also had to uses those secrets to defend his tribe during the last war. There was only a handful left by the end. The few that were left joined another tribe. Feeling bitter Breol refused to join and left once more traveling the Talenta Plains. Recently he has had very vivid dreams of a land beyond the End World Mountains. Seeing this as a good omen Breol packed his few possessions and left for this new land in hopes of finding a place for himself.
RP Sample:
Breol woke in a sour mood by the embers of a campfire. He has spent the last few days traversing the End World Mountains. Breol grumbles as he breathes in the crisp cold air. A moment later he had gathered some sticks and stokes the embers. A shrill scream pierces the relative stillness of the night. He drops the bundle of sticks and weaves his hand in the air spring forth fire in the palm of his hand. Sickening wet crunches follows. Mustering his courage Breol stalks into the brush.The silhouette of a creature can be made out in the distance. Breol filled with a mixture of fear and stubbornness, he enters the clearing ready for battle only to find its a Bladetooth which is a dinosaur commonly seen on the Talenta Plains, eating a rabbit. Breol whispers in a soothing tone as he gently places his hand on the dinosaur "This is no place for you. Go back and be with your kind" The dinosaur somehow understood and left. For the first time in a long while Breol smiled. "I will take that as a good omen. Perhaps I will find my home in this strange land"
Appearance:
He, MightyOwl. Interested in exploring the Eberron setting and very intrigued by the concept.
Name: Anton Martan
Race: Human
Age: 31
Feat: Keen Mind
Class: Artificer/Battlesmith
Backstory
Anton was a soldier from Cyre who lost everything on the Day of Mourning, his family, his homeland, his sense of purpose. He was stationed outside of Cyre, fighting on the front lines when the catastrophe struck, which is seen by some as a stroke of luck and by others as a cruel twist of fate. Already a skilled artificer, trained by some of the best artificers in Eston, he served his unit well in creating tools of destruction and springing into action with his steel defender where the fighting was the thickest, felling foes and rescuing fellow soldiers. That was all gone. Now, he joined the stream of refugees looking for a place to build a new start in a place called, fittingly enough, Hope.
RP sample
The sound of hammer ringing against iron echoes in the shop. It wasn’t really much of a shop, not yet anyway, just a hastily constructed wooden lean-to in the outside of a cluster of small buildings calling themselves a town. But it is a start Anton thinks to himself, a beginning of something that can bring good to others. He wipes the sweat from his eyes and returns to shaping the piece of iron in front of him, willing it to assume the shape of a pick suitable for mining, not battle, before quenching it in a barrel of water. He looks up through the steam and smoke as a shadow crosses the ground in front of the anvil. “Good morning! Can I help you? Looking for something to help stake your claim?”
Big Three Archetype Interest: Primary interest would be the Money, establishing a blacksmith shop, maybe eventually a general store to serve the town and miners. Looking to use his skills to build instead of destroy.
Appearance: Medium height and broad shouldered, Anton has tawny skin criss-crossed with scars from his battles. Piercing hazel eyes look out from underneath a tangle of dark brown, almost black curly hair. He is typically clean shaven but is nevertheless covered with sweat and grime from his work at the forge. He wears boots worn down by travel, plain leather pants, and a heavy leather half-apron when working.
Do you have content sharing as I only have the basic rules.
Bram Quikfoot fractured.
Yes, I will have content sharing.
GR_Mustang was kind enough to offer up their content sharing so folks could have access to the Eberron sourcebooks while making their characters. If you need access to the content, please use this campaign link: https://ddb.ac/campaigns/join/32546794050024983
Please note that I will delete the campaign once I pick the final group. This is only a temporary arrangement to facilitate character creation.
Celica Maloraen | Twilight Domain Cleric 5 | Wildemount Irregulars
Jasper Finch | Fighter 1 | Curious Critters - A Tal'Dorei Tale
Amaris Tell | Order of Scribes Wizard 3 | Baldur's Gate Mysteries
DM | Icewind Dale: Rime of the Frostmaiden
nope. Shhh.
Just a husband, father, DM, strength coach, writer, mustard producer, youth minister, and US Army Airborne veteran trying to stay sane.
Badran The Returner
I'm going to extend the deadline for applications - instead of Sunday the 14th at 11:00 PM, I will close recruitment on Wednesday the 17th at 11:00 PM.
Celica Maloraen | Twilight Domain Cleric 5 | Wildemount Irregulars
Jasper Finch | Fighter 1 | Curious Critters - A Tal'Dorei Tale
Amaris Tell | Order of Scribes Wizard 3 | Baldur's Gate Mysteries
DM | Icewind Dale: Rime of the Frostmaiden
Name Flame
class artificer artillerist
feat gift of the gem dragon int
flame was created for one purpose ,destroy but before he could be turned on his creator died. He malfunctioned and now he is trying to figure out what happened.
RP sample: greetings sentient being. I am looking for someone. he died .help me. DIRECTIVE FIMD MASTER.
Bram Quikfoot fractured.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1fM-dYb3t0Jo0JgqLF1jYjHMLSES7X1mV/view?usp=sharing
Just a husband, father, DM, strength coach, writer, mustard producer, youth minister, and US Army Airborne veteran trying to stay sane.
Badran The Returner
Character Name: Reverend Cain
Race/Lineage: Mechanically warforged, lorewise tiefling
Age: 34
Starting Feat: Inspiring Leader, of course. Gotta love a good sermon.
Class: Sorcerer (Divine Soul)
Backstory:
Cain has always known the flame. From the very beginning, he was fascinated by it, obsessed with it. Even as a very young child, he would steal tinderboxes and light little fires, just to watch them go. As he grew, so did his fires, to the point where at the age of nine he accidentally set a shed on fire, and instead of attempting to put it out he just watched. In a word, he was a pyromaniac. This obsession grew and grew, and he ended up causing several house fires. He never wanted to hurt anybody, he just... couldn't help himself. However, fire is a dangerous thing, and it will turn on you in an instant. At the age of twenty-five, he almost absentmindedly ended up setting a church on fire... while he was still in it. Just a casual swing of the tail, knocking over an oil lamp. He didn't escape in time. Can you imagine the pain of sitting there, buried under burning embers which blacken and char your skin where they touch, and yet... your infernal heritage refuses to let you burn. Instead, you cook, and peel, and char, for hours. Until salvation came. A vision entered his mind, an emissary of Boldrei, the god which presided over the church that he had set aflame. Instead of punishing him, it offered him a way out. Pledge himself to Boldrei, use the fire for good instead of evil, and he would be allowed to survive. They found him hours later, charred to a crisp but still alive. He was given... I mean, I don't want to say the General Grievous treatment, but he was given the General Grievous treatment, his skin replaced by metal, his burnt and charred limbs becoming hydraulics and gears. On the inside, he is still a man, but on the outside his new parts, using similar tech to warforged, make him all metal and burning faith.
RP Sample:
"My people," Reverend Cain growled through his brass vocal cords, the tinny tone echoing through the ramshackle church, "you must listen to me. I know how you feel. There is fear in your eyes, and doubt, oh yes, but I wanna tell you that I know what you feel. I've felt it myself, oh yes I have, so many years ago. I have felt the crushin' weight of doubt, the burnin' fire of fear that twists, and festers, and scorches you inside and out. You think there's no hope. You think we're doomed to die out here in the wilds. But I tell you, I tell you, this is not so. I wanna tell you, that fire you have inside you, that fire you think is burnin' you up, it ain't nothin' of that sort." Cain stepped up on the pulpit, eyes glowing with religious fervor. Around their edges, burnt, scarred skin could be seen. Smoke hissed out of the cracks in his metal skin as his voice boomed, amplified magically. The candles in the church all flared brightly, reflecting off of his face and chest. "That fire, it burns, oh yes it does, but fire also creates anew. The forest must be razed by fire so that new life may grow in its wake, and so must you allow yourself to be consumed by your own fire, so that you can truly commit yourself to your future. Let the fire burn away your past, all the doubts and fears, and let it forge you anew, as it has me. I see in all of you the burnin' embers of a new world, and it is up to you to fuel that flame. Let it burn, so that we may create a new, wonderful world, here in the wilds of Q'Barra! Can I get an amen? I said, can I get an A-MEN!"
Big Three Archetype interest: Cain is definitely geared toward the Faith, but if need be he could potentially be an... interesting Law, considering his tendencies toward chaos (by which I mean forging your own path, recreating yourself, etc.)
Appearance:
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Character Name: Pitch (he/him)
Race/Lineage: Shifter (Beasthide)
Age: 22
Starting Feat: Chef
Class: Ranger (Swarmkeeper; Unarmed Fighting Style)
Background: House Agent (Ghallanda)
Backstory:
Pitch was born in Q'Barra, his parents being part of the support staff for an archaeology team sponsored by Morgrave University. Months turned in to years and the shifter family came to see the frontier as their home. Pitch, named after a mishap in his early youth with the sap of a massive tree, came to love the flora and fauna of their home, especially drawn to the colonies of bees. Under the tutelage of an entomologist, Pitch learned how to keep and care for such creatures. His father introduced him to a love of cooking, and Pitch thoroughly enjoyed keeping the camp well-fed. After saving up some money and trying his hand at brewing, Pitch is trying to convince House Ghallanda to invest in him and create a foothold for the Hosteler's Guild in a rich new market.
RP Sample:
Pitch hummed tunelessly to himself as he moved slowly through the flowers with a watering can. Bees floated by lazily, sometimes visiting the flowers and herbs he had tucked in his hair. He looked up at the brightening morning and let a small smile appear on his face. It was the quiet mornings before the camp fully awoke that he enjoyed the most: the drone of his bees, the crisp smell of the flowers in the slightly cooler air, and the quiet of the jungle as the nocturnal creatures found shelter and the diurnal ones started to stir.
Big Three Archetype interest: Money - Pitch wants to set up a saloon where he can sell his concoctions and food and explore new brewing and distilling methods using the bounty of Q'Barra.
Appearance: A tall and broad body, the shifter has thick hair framing a bemused smile and kind but sly eyes on his face. Perhaps unsettlingly, bees seem to emerge from the folds of his clothes or even his hair, and he seems to not only be unperturbed but delighted by the insects.
Character Name: Spellshot Larond
Race/Lineage: Autognome
Age: 35
Starting Feat: Gunner
Class: Wizard (Bladesinger)
Backstory:
Larond was the product of ambition. A dream that aimed to combine gunslinging and spellcraft, merging the two into a powerful way to channel offensive magic through a mundane yet effective weapon. Larond was that dream. Their body was created with the enchantments necessary to perform such channeling of mana, with spells already programmed into them so that testing could begin right from the beginning of Larond's creation. After countless trial runs and modifications, the newly dubbed "Spellshot Larond" was sent out to the lands of Q'Barra so that their skills could be applied in a realistic environment. Larond craves combat, as each new fight is a new set of data, information, and experience that they can use to evolve their techniques. Larond wants to make their name known throughout Q'Barra as the greatest gunslinger in the land, and what better way to do that than defending a small mining town from monsters and ruffians...
RP Sample:
The town stood still in tension. Doors shut, windows closed, children ushered inside by fearful mothers. Sand sweeping through the streets with swiftness. Today was the day that a problem which had plagued this town for years would come to an end. Or would it?
The new sheriff in town stood at a mere 3'7, and the ruffians sneered down at the copper construct. They jeered, "You really think you can take us on then, mage? Well, this should be good... another name on our records, another coinpurse for the boss, and another worthless existence in this damn town quenched." The small one chuckled, stroking their golden mustache as some runes on their holstered journal glowed faintly, obscured by the sandstorm raging outside. This would be an interesting experiment indeed. They then turned around and began to take one step away. Two steps. Three... "Old fashioned little thing ye are! I'll play by your rules, and once I'm done, your scraps will make good coin for us!" The gang laughed, and the mocking leader did the same as the machine.
Four. Five. Six.
Wind whipped around the autognome, swirling sand circling them in a ring. Testing would begin soon, and with a real, living variable. How exciting!
Seven... Eight...
"Backing off? C'mon, I wanna see how far those little legs can run... No? Fine then."
Nine. The automoton didn't respond, but instead, began to hum a slow tune... the runes on their pistol brightened.
Ten.
They didn't pull the trigger, but the ruffian certainly did. Yet as the bullet flew towards them, twisting through the air like a stalking serpent, it simply... curved around the autognome. All were in shock. How could such miracles happen? But there was no time to ponder, as the robot whipped around with a runic pistol in hand, firing three searing spears of flame that melted through both of the ruffian's eyes, and his evil heart. Red, molten goo began to seep from the openings in the gang's former leader as he crumpled into the sand. All the ruffians looked up at this creature, afraid about what might happen to them next.
"Remember this and run, rats. Remember the name... Spellshot Larond."
Big Three Archetype interest: As my backstory and roleplay suggest, I'm leaning more towards The Law! It's a great way for Larond to encounter creatures that need a couple holes through them to settle matters, and for Larond to gather data, as well as improve his skills as a "Spellshot".
Appearance: Spellshot Larond wears a blue scarf over their mouth, and their entire body is relatively Gnomish, although they are made of pure copper. They sport a mustache made of golden wires, a long brown cowboy hat, and sunset orange eyes that radiate slightly with light. On their hip are two holstered items. One is a journal etched with runes that trigger their programmed spells, and Larond also uses this to write about fights, record data, and journal about their experiences in general. The second is a pistol decorated with whirring gears that channels Larond's memories of their spells into concentrated shots, beams, or shards of harmful magic.
The three teachings of Tyre:
Nothing is forbidden.
Nothing is sacred.
Nothing is impossible.
Also I stan Tomoe for life
Character Name: Crunch and Growls (Steel Defender Dog)
Race/Lineage: Warforged
Age: 34
Starting Feat: Warcaster
Class: Artificer (Battlesmith)
Backstory:
Crunch was a soldier for Cyre. He fought the invaders to a standstill. Waded through their blood. He and his companion dog-mecha Growls let the enemy know they would pay. It was blood and more blood. He knew little else, although perhaps he began to think there was more than what he was created for. Finally, the mourning came, and he ran with the rest of the people, the army he fought for and even the whole nation gone. Now, he is forced to be something else.
RP Sample:
"I have seen my share of death elf. I will end you as I have many of your brethren. Just say when. Or you can walk away now and we can all live." The elf is silent and naught can be heard but the hydraulics of Crunch's legs as he steps forward, stopping within 10 feet of the elf. Growls follows along, staying close. A low growling noise begins to come from the dog mecha breaking the silence further, as he points directly at the elf, mimicking the actions of a canine hunting dog spotting prey.
Big Three Archetype interest:
Lawman....He could see himself going from a soldier protecting his homeland to protecting the smaller villiage.
Appearance: Armored and carrying a shield and blade, Crunch stands at 6'-8" and appears a massive sight. He will rarely be seen without his constant companion, Growls a mecha-dog.
Name's Dalla, actually Dallalandria but if you call me that I'll punch your lights out.
Newbie to this world of DnD but willing to learn quick if you're brave enough to give me a chance.
Race / class etc. Happy to be guided.
Age Young
Backstory/RP
A salon girl is no 'spoiled dove' so don't touch me unless you want your fingers broken. I serve drinks to my uncle's patrons, not my body! Travelling to my only known living relative, I've just arrived longing or news of my younger sister ...
The cart rumbles on through the heat and I gaze at the thin line of smoke in the distance, a mirage, it has to be. The sun is blinding and I'm unable to focus properly, the small farmstead I call home can't be this blackened smouldering heap. I sit in stunned amazement as the horse draws me ever closer. I glance at the paddock and notice Ma's abandoned gun. Jumping to the ground before the horse has time to stop I'm running. Falling to the ground I sweep up the body lying face down sprawled next to the gun. Gingerly I turn her face towards me and lifeless eyes gaze back accusingly, 'why were you so long 'they seem to say, 'where were you when we needed you' they plead. I clutch her closer to me and sob "sorry mama, I'm so sorry".
I've no idea how long I sat apologising whilst rocking her lifeless form. Eventually I sensed the horse becoming restless and took stock of my surroundings. Nothing appeared to be left. Everything had been senselessly burnt. I wandered through the ashes touching and remembering the items of my childhood. I hesitate at Gyllian's favourite book. Gyllian! Where is Gyllian?
"Gyllian" I scream
Apperance Tall for my age. Long hair I always keep braided so it's out the way. Muscled for a girl as I was always the 'man' of the house. Think Calamity Jane.
Character Name: Kizli Arventalz
Race/Lineage: Drow
Age: 213
Starting Feat: Skill Expert
Class: Order of Scribe Wizard
Backstory:
Short Version:
Kizli is an exiled drow teacher that managed to find their way to Q'Barra. They do not seem to behave like the typical drow and as such earned a place as the local teacher for the youth in the town. often under watch or suspicion they seem undaunted and focus most of their efforts on teaching. They seem to focus heavily on teaching independent thought and teaching students what they want to learn instead of forcing them into a curriculum. A skilled wizard with vast arcane knowledge that is often seen studying or preparing lesson plans they have managed to find a place in the town.
Long Version:
Kizli was raised in the underdark with many other drow. In their youth they were taught the ways of Lloth and learned the same lessons of racial superiority and entitlement. Kizli was perhaps one of the worst for being a gifted mind. They excelled at intellectual feats of knowledge and arcane development. They quickly learned that knowledge and skill far surpassed others less gifted. However, in his youth there was a major person in their life that constantly upstaged them. Their teacher. To say they had a profound effect on them is an understatement. Kizli learned much from them as their parents were quite wealthy and allowed him to learn under Master Ortho. Kizli was taught how to take advantage of others and use cunning and knowhow to achieve their goals as well as powerful factual knowledge. Kizli could see that Master Ortho held much power over him and it didn't take long before Kizli knew they wanted to be a teacher in the future.
Kizli achieved their dream of becoming a teacher. To mold the minds of the future. In fact, they spent little time developing their own magic in favor of learning and developing a school for the drow kingdom. The current rulers of which seemed to like the idea and Kizli soon had many youths to educate. He had to teach loyalty to the drow kingdom but there was nothing he saw wrong with that. Kizli choose his students preferring those with a drive to learn. When they seemed uninterested in learning he would kick them out. He taught for a number of years having many graduate. It wasn't until later that Kizli learned their ruler's true intent for this school and the fate of their students. Where as Kizli knew knowledge was power he was forced to teach loyalty to the drow kingdom too. This made for blindly obedient and skilled drow children. The kingdom used them as pawns, sacrifices and more. it was gradual at first as Kizli learned of one dying. Then 2 are dead. Soon, Kizli discovered that most of his students have been killed.
This prompted the drow to reevaluate and perhaps with guidance from Eilistraee herself or perhaps it was just the logical outcome Kizli suddenly saw the drow kingdom for what it was. His students despite all their knowledge were brainwashed and Kizli was the unknowing pawn of the nobles of the kingdom. Kizli tried to rescue several of his remaining students but was unable to find them. His investigation unfortunately led the nobles to learn of his intention and he was forced to flee for his life. Leaving behind all he knew Kizli fled the underdark for the surface. Taking as much as he could to survive. His beliefs, his ideals, his home, and everyone he knew was lost to him.
It took some time adjusting to the surface world. The bright light always stinging but Kizli moved on. he quickly learned his race was not only not superior but also hated and mistrusted by many. he wondered from town to town, using his magic to survive and he was cunning enough to remain comfortable but he missed teaching. He missed having students. He never really realized how much he enjoyed being a teacher and having that pride that he was training the next generation to be better and smarter then the last. His wondering eventually brought him to a town in Q’barra. A small town without any teachers. It took some time but Kizli managed to convince the people there that they really only meant to teach and help. Looked at with suspicion but unable to deny his knowledge and skill at teaching the locals did agree to let him teach but there would always be someone watching him to make sure he wasn't teaching their children anything they didn't approve of.
It was a start. He may be seen with distrust but the one thing he cared about was the students. He swore to himself that he would never again let his students come to harm and that he would do anything to protect a talented mind. He would instill in them not only his vast array of knowledge but also a sense of independence. They would not be victims of any system. If anything, they will be the next generation to create the systems or rule them.
RP Sample:
The small room that Kizli finds themselves in has only 4 students in it as well as himself and one of the local parents. The small town not being able to afford larger buildings yet has at least provided a space for them to teach. It mattered not to the drow that it was a room in the back of a tavern as long as the place was giving him a chance. It's been quite a few years since he got a chance to teach but he has had a lot of time to figure out how he wants to. He looks at the four students and tries his best to ignore the glaring parent that is just there to prevent him teaching anything she doesn't approve of. The four students are not hers. She kept her child back from learning and instead wanted to see Kizli's first class. The middle aged human woman definitely judging every single aspect of Kizli. To her a lack of a teacher is not an excuse to put a shady drow in the position.
"Four Students. Four minds. I am Kizli Arventalz. I would imagine this is the first time for many of you to meet a drow. Which of you would like to ask me a question before we begin?"
Kizli looks at each of them in turn. the first one being a young girl of 10 by the name of Lilly McCorrin. Human as all but one are she seems a bit timid as Kizli looks at her. She doesn't give any reply. Kizli tries to get a sense of if they are just quiet or if they are uninterested (Insight: 18).
The next child he looks at is a young boy of 9 who doesn't even seem to be quite enamored by Kizli's appearance. They pipe up with an inquisitive mind asking "What's a drow?" Kizli smiles and replies "A drow is a person like yourself but with pointy ears. We have a darker complexion of skin then many other races and tend to live underground. We have a bit of sunlight sensitivity as well which is why we are inside this room and not outside for lessons. We also live much longer then many other races and can even live over a thousands years before we die of old age."
The child seems satisfied with the reply and Kizli moves onto the next child. Another boy this one of the age 15 and human. The boy is scowling at Kizli and its clear they don't trust them. When Kizli looks to them for a question they say "My father says Drow are murderous elves that backstab everyone around them. Why should I trust you?" Kizli was actually expecting a question like this and despite having given it a lot of thought he decided that in this case an answer isn't enough as the only way to get someone to see him as more then a drow was to get them to ask questions. The mother that doesn't trust him seems interested in his reply to this question and as such Kizli replies, "Many of those tales may be true. However, not every Drow is the same just as not every human is the same. I don't want you to trust me. I want you to question me. I want you to doubt me. If you decide I can be trusted then I will be better able to teach you. If you decide I cannot I will respect it. For now I will declare my goals. Feel free to question them. I want to teach. I want to learn. I want to see my students be successful."
He pauses there and looks to the last student. The only non-human currently in his class. A tabaxi child and girl of 13. She seems a bit put on the spot as Kizli looks at her and she seems surprised to be looked at and called on. She clears her throat and replies, "How do we figure out if we can trust you?" Kizli smiles and says "By asking questions. As long as you have a desire to learn and are my student I will never refuse to answer a question."
The rest of the day was spent with Kizli teaching. The students asking various questions. Sometimes the questions had to do with the topic on hand and other times they were questions that had to do with Kizli. True to his word he answered every question. Personal and professional. He was an open book to those who questioned him. He did however reply with questions of his own to get the children to think and ponder his words and not just give them answers. This was especially true when asked questions about himself. At the end of the session with the children they headed out of the room to go to their various homes. Kizli picked up a few local books he was lent on local wildlife to return them. The mother approaches him as he does so, "Interesting class. If you speak truly then I have no objection to you teaching my daughter. She will be in your class tomorrow and I'll be there too." Kizli pauses and nods as he looks to her. He asks, "Did you have any questions for me?" She thinks on it and says "I don't know if I trust you. You seem too good to be true for a small town like this. Why did you come here anyway?"
Kizli pauses a moment as he thinks until eventually saying "I think it is because I lost everything I knew and I wanted to find somewhere new to restart. I have my own trauma that I am trying to learn from. I can also see you want to know what happened but I do request you not ask. At least not yet. I only request time for you to get to know me before asking." The question was innocent and had no ulterior motive other then just him not wanting to talk about his past at this time. She however interpreted it a bit different. "You got bravery I'll give you that Mr. Arventalz. You seem to be heartfelt in his request so I won't pry, at least not yet. Lunch tomorrow then. We will see what happens after that." With Kizli having inadvertently made a date with her somehow he is a bit confused as she leaves. The drow uncertain what to do just continues to pick up and put things away and then prepares for tomorrow's lessons.
Appearance:
A drow of average height that keeps themselves well groomed and prefers suits and more regal attire to look professional. He likes dark blues and greys or more prominent colors but will often like a white trim to add that pop of brightness on his outfits. Their platinum white hair is commonly seen on many drow as Kizli prefers the long white mane of hair with a few twists of braiding to add some flair. The dark purple colorations of skin is adorned on his body similar to other drow. his hands have smooth skin of someone that works as an intellectual more then physical. He has piercing green eyes that seem to absorb and reflect light which belies his keen darkvision that often reacts poorly to sunlight. His pointed ears are not overly exaggerated and have a few simple silver piercings in them. His build is thin and wiry and showing more akin to a nimble build rather then a muscular build. He tends to have a large satchel to his side hanging from his opposite shoulder. It contains a lot of books on various subjects he may be researching or looking up for one of his students. This also contains his spellbook. His spellbook was fashioned in a spiderlike design and seems to be well made with colors of black, purple and white.
Character Name: Jerid Unter
Race/Lineage: Half-Elf
Age: 31
Starting Feat: Warcaster
Class: Bard/Cleric (Forge)
Backstory: Jerid did not grow up in Q'Barra, but spent his youth travelling with his family moving goods from the inland of Breland to the coast and back. Both of his parents were half-elves and never had that feeling of really fitting in wherever they were so life on the road suited them. His mother had the mind for money and his father the tongue to sell while Jerid proved to be a mix between the two and took to the merchant life from a young age, but truly found his calling in creating goods instead of just selling them. He was drawn to the worship of Onatar and the art of forging metal into something useful, practical, and valuable. While his parents were happy to continue travelling Jerid settled for a time to work on his craft, but the entrepreneurial spirit instilled in him did not let him stay still for long. He won the mining rights to a proposed vein of iron and maybe more in Q'Barra and moved there to setup operations to gain access to materials for his goods and those better margins.
RP Sample:
"No luck today, you say?" Jerid asked of the dust covered man in front of him as he leaned against the anvil of his forge. He was not particularly clean himself at the moment with a coating of sweat that had ash clinging to it on his bare skin and streaks here and there along his clothes and the leather apron over his front. "According to the reports that should have been the spot..." he started and eyed the other man. He smiled, but the gesture did not exactly meet his gaze as he took stock of the fellow in front of him to gauge the truth of his words.
"No luck today, but maybe tomorrow," he said after a long breath and the other man nodded enthusiastically. He didn't speak much, this miner, and for that Jerid was thankful. Less likely to spill any secrets. A hand lifts to wave his tongs over to a small bag hanging on a hook at the door, "Take your pay, Etmer. Go get yourself something to eat and rest up, I'll head up there tomorrow with you myself to see if we can bring some better luck, yeah?"
Big Three Archetype interest: The Money
Appearance:
More rugged than handsome this half-elf stands a bit above average height but with a sturdy build and the calloused hands of a workman. His dark hair is kept short and rarely styled other than a quick comb, but still givens the appearance of being well kept and frequently cleaned. His clothes are serviceable and well-made, nothing flashy but of the sort that are made to last for a long time. A mouth of white, straight teeth give him a friendly smile that often matches to the sparkle of green eyes
Edit: Was racing the deadline for a work meeting. One minute over! Hope it makes the cut for consideration :)