Character Race and Class (with potential Subclass, if you are already thinking that far ahead): Variant Human / Rogue (Psi Knive)
+1 to DEX and +1 to INT Bonus Feat: Keen Mind for a +1 to INT
If multiclass is allowed I would like to take Psi warrior levels too.
Character Background: Criminal
Character Portait:
Character Personality (no more than a paragraph please): Rasen has been always quiet and thinks that had much to learn of people around him by carefully listening and observing them. He had learned the hard way that the rules and laws usually benefit the ones up in the pyramid and tend to forget the ones below. So he has no problems to breaking the laws to make things a little more equal with a better distribution of wealth He will not take advantage of those who are weaker than him and he does not tolerate bullies.
Character Backstory (no more than 4 paragraphs please):
Son of a Suelian mother and Flaness father, he is just but another orphan from the Wars. His father died at the Battle of Kandred Meadows and his mother met the same fate just a few weeks later, when she tried to recover her husband body and her caravan was attacked by the soldiers of the Overking. Soon he was left in an auspicie where Gilwor Greymist, an elf member of the Thieve's Guild found him. He was impressed by the fast and keen mind of the child and took him with him. He taught him the inners and outs of the job, and with only 15 years Rasen was able to conduct his own jobs alone, always under the direction of Gilwor of course. All was well until that job. Gilwor got word that a wizard had acquired a strange, big, and very expensive gem. It's origin was unknown, some said that it came from the Underdark, others that it had fallen from the skies, truth being told, that didn't matter to Gilwor neither Rasen. Rasen and his friend, Rothkesnlinski, a gnome, infiltrated the wizard's tower and reached the laboratory at the top, where the magic-user was about to conduct his experiments on the gem, using a young woman as a experimental subject. That was unexpected and the wizard's servants discovered them. They did their best but the Roth was killed in the fight. Rasen took the gem and threaten the wizard to smash it if he didn't let him and the girl go. The wizard, deranged, casted a powerful spell... the gem exploded, killing the wizard and the young woman. Rasen woke up in the middle of the destroyed laboratory and, still groggy, managed to escape before the Guard reach the scene. It turned out that the woman was the daughter of a noble, and the gem was an artifact owned by the Academy and the wizard had stolen it. Everyone was looking for Rasen, to.. questioning him and to find an escape goat. Gilwor helped him escape the city and he went to the south, trying to stay low. That's how he reached Darkshelf.
A writing sample of how your character came to be in Darkshelf: Included at the backstory spoiler.
A link to your Character Sheet (whether that be here at D&D Beyond or another site you prefer for sheets): Rasen Finceleb
Nocto loves nothing more than to bring joy to his audience. Well, that and wine. And good food. And fine clothes.
Nocto has spent the last several years entertaining the richest courts in the land. His recent... troubles... have rather abruptly cast him into the role of street performer and tavern singer. He is trying hard to see this as a return to his roots, and a chance to connect with common folk. But he desperately misses the life of finery to which he had become accustomed.
Character Backstory
Hark and behold the greatest Bard of our age.
Though small of stature, his legend overshadows the giants. Nocto the Halfling - the Bard Owl of Dennet's Snuggery. Have his songs delighted common folk and nobility alike? Assuredly so! Have his epics and plays been performed in courts across the land? Only the grandest! Has there ever been a bard to match his juggling and puppetry? Not in living memory! Did his foolishness lead to the death of the Amber Countess? Eh... well... yes...
Nocto was one of the most highly sought-after bards in the land. Traveling from estate to estate, sampling the finest wine and dallying with the courtesans, his life was all he could have imagined. Then, carelessly, he accepted a contract from a shadowy figure whom he would later discover was a member of the Subtle Thread. At the Midsommer feast at the Amber Castle, the unwitting halfling refilled the countess's goblet, not realizing that he had delivered her a lethal dose of the assassin's poison.
In the political battle that followed the murder, Nocto was able to call in enough favours and avoid the noose, but his reputation and standing in the Bards' college are in shambles. Nocto dreams of regaining his rightful place in the nobility. He is, for now, a penniless street entertainer, seeking a good meal for his belly and silk sheets to sleep in. He still has standards.
A writing sample of how your character came to be in Darkshelf
"A bottle of your finest, innkeep, and you may trust that this evening at the Gentle Boar will be one talked about through many a winter."
"Two silver'll get you a pitcher of gran's cherry wine."
"...Delightful. But, my good sir, you mean to charge for my supper? Is it possible you know me not?"
"Little feller what sings songs, I'd wager."
"Songs, for certain. But also epic poems, wonderous illusions, juggling, puppetry!"
"Two silvers for the pitcher. Four, if I gotta listen to poetry."
I'm also player from the 1980s red-box days. I have played and DM'd a variety of RPGs over the decades, and dove into 5E with my kids in the last couple of years. This is my first foray into PBP. I'm being ably coached on the technical side by my teenagers, so I'm confident I can keep up. I'd love the opportunity to join this amazing campaign.
Race: Aasimar (Mordenkainen's Monsters of the Multiverse; +2 Cha, +1 Con)
Class: Divine Soul Sorcerer
Background: Custom Background - Haunted One (two languages, two skills)
Portrait:
Backstory: Enoch was born in a coastal village, by the churning sounds of Azure Sea. As an aasimar, the villagers soon found that the child possessed an extraordinary power - the ability to predict the tides and storms with astounding accuracy. The villagers viewed him as a divine blessing, a messenger of the heavens who brought prosperity and abundance to their humble village. Enoch was cherished, and his presence filled the village with a sense of hope and joy.
However, fate can be fickle, and Enoch's prophetic gift took a dark turn. His predictions began to go awry, and the villagers began to see him as a cursed child, a harbinger of doom. They turned on him, and their once-reverent attitude transformed into vicious cruelty. Enoch's spirit was shattered, and his body bore the scars of their abuse. Despite his cries for help, the heavens remained silent, and there was no escape from their wrath.
In a desperate attempt to appease the gods and calm the raging storms, the villagers came up with a gruesome solution - Enoch would be sacrificed to the sea. Consumed by anger and fear, the villagers agreed to the unthinkable. Enoch walked into the frigid water, and the chill bit at his skin. The icy water rose above his head, the waves merciless, each drop feeling like a thousand icy needles piercing his skin. Yet Enoch was not afraid. He knew that his fate was to be intertwined with the sea, forever one with the tides and storms.
Despite the sacrifice of their divine messenger, the village was not spared. A great wave rose from the sea, crashing down upon them, and everything in its path was drowned. Enoch was the only survivor, his body battered and bruised, his heart heavy with bitter anger and regret. He realized then that he could never trust the kindness of others again. That naïve child was lost in the sea forever.
Personality: Deeply scarred by the betrayal he suffered at the hands of those he once trusted, Enoch despises the way people tend to approach him, assuming his kindness solely based on his angelic appearance, and he would glare at them until they back off. He prefers to keep his distance in social interactions, always cold, distrustful, rarely opening up to others. He is fiercely motivated to attain power as a means of safeguarding himself from future harm. The memories of his past continue to haunt him, and his past wound evident in every guarded expression and cold, steely gaze he casts.
A writing sample of how your character came to be in Darkshelf: Enoch sat alone in the corner of the dimly lit tavern, nursing his ale as he brooded over his past. The tavern was bustling with rowdy patrons, but Enoch was hardly paying them any attention, lost in his thoughts. Standing at over six feet tall with broad shoulders and an imposing presence, he commanded respect without ever having to say a word. His celestial appearance drew the attention of a group of rough-looking strangers, who sauntered over to his table, their eyes fixed on him. Enoch's eyes flickered up at them, his expression stoic and guarded. His cold, authoritative gaze and sharp, chiseled features gave off an air of danger and made the strangers hesitate.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” One of the strangers leered. “Looks like a pretty boy's wandered into our little corner of the world." Enoch's jaw tightened, but he still remained silent, his face like stone. Another of the strangers chimed in, "What's the matter, pretty boy? Cat got your tongue?" Enoch's grip on his mug tightened, placing it down on the table with a harsh thud, the muscles on his arm bulging. He glared at them with deep blue eyes that pierced through their bravado, making the strangers grow uneasy and take a step back.
Watching them leave with an annoyed gaze, Enoch picked up his thoughts again. He heard of Darkshelf’s reputation as a haven for those seeking to escape their past, and he hoped to start anew there, to escape the pain of his past, but he also knew that this city was a place where power was highly valued. And Enoch had always been ambitious, driven to attain power as a means of protecting himself from ever being hurt again. So he sat in the tavern, his mind churning with plans and schemes, waiting for the right opportunity to present itself.
Character Race and Class: Goblin, Celestial Warlock (per her backstory), with plan to multiclass into Rogue (per her character history and temperament). How many levels go into each one will depend a lot on how the story goes...
Character Background: Criminal/Spy
Character Portrait:
Character Personality: Secretive would be the one word description of this goblin. Wary, scrappy, and manipulative, when dealing with others Phodoxia will employ a wide range of friendly overtures, charm, fawning, ferocity, or threats depending on the situation. Or, she'll just disappear. Superimposed upon her natural self-preserving goblin nature is the terms of her pact, of healing and virtue, terms which she will not break whatsoever, although she often tries to hide the reasons for her refusal as if embarrassed of them. Of other ties that bind her, she is very socially oriented, as goblins tend to be, but divested of her own clan, she'll attach herself to others to accomplish her goals or achieve security.
Character Backstory:
Raiding parties and crime syndicates were the hallmarks of Phodoxia's goblin parents and from a young age she was involved in these activities as well. Thoughtful and suspicious, she remained aloof even from fellow goblins and sought influence to keep herself untouchable. Whether this was by fawning, charm, performance, intimidation, or pure stealth and avoidance, she maintained this untouchable approach to life.
But, as criminal and spy undertakings will have their risk, the goblin was cornered one day by a contingent of elves whom her syndicate had been robbing at the edges of the forest of Celadon. She was unable to escape except to flee into Celadon, pursued hotly by the elves. They were more at home there than she and she could not outmaneuver them, but suddenly they left the chase, laughing merrily, and the beautiful forest seemed to close in like the jaws of a steel trap on the goblin. Sprites and brownies with bared teeth and fey fury came at the goblin's intrusion. Despite her charms and maneuvering they were not fooled, and strung her up to kill her. Yet the guardian of that forest was a powerful unicorn, and Phodoxia begged and fawned for mercy from the celestial being. The fact that she was still a virgin (rare in goblin society at an adult age) aroused the unicorn's goodwill and it made a pact with her while she swore up and down to change her ways if only her life would be spared.
As the servant of a unicorn, Phodoxia could not return to her previous life. The unicorn's hidden sanctuary nature meshed well with how she had lived her life anyway, but by the terms of her pact she now had certain promises she had to fulfill: She would always need to heal non-evil-aligned wounded creatures if she was able. She could no longer steal. She must remain a virgin. She could no longer use poisons.
The radiant energy has transformed her over time and she sometimes finds herself actually enjoying the practice of virtue, of smiting fiends and rooting out evil. She is quite devoted to the unicorn, in a sense, although she fears it in a subservient sort of way. Left to herself as she is most of the time, outside of the terms of her pact she still likes to hide or ingratiate herself with whoever happens to be around. She'll window shop things she can't steal, make antidotes to poisons, play her flute and make some promises if she impresses anyone, and then disappear. Unable to support herself by robbery any longer, or be tolerated long in the circles she knew, Phodoxia travels from place to place seeking "honest work" enough to survive.
A writing sample of how your character came to be in Darkshelf:
The job was boring and it smelled bad. The human miners sweat and groaned in the dark, singing irritating songs, and would swing their picks at her often or not as they had a chance. The goblin stayed in the shadows, staying out of their way, clawed hands pressed to the wall or ceiling of the jagged stone stope, listening.
Bazili only hired her because he claimed the human workers couldn't hear underground streams or weak spots in the rock like his dwarves could. Of course, she told him she could. She'd never tried. It wasn't really untrue. She had large, long ears, and of course Bazili knew goblins lived underground as a matter of routine and knew about these things.
No cave-ins and no floods since he'd hired her for two silver a day a fortnight ago. Phodoxia liked to think it was a good record. She hadn't heard anything funny, and no one had died. They didn't make her hurry the carts or help with the getting, because she wasn't very big, and most of the time they didn't see her anyway. They'll see me when it's important.
But today she felt something. She didn't hear it. Just something felt wrong. A thought came into her mind, of the old forest, far away above the stone tunnels, a thought of wild creatures running, escaping a trap. A trap. And the unicorn, white as pale cloud wisping through the deep undergrowth, she saw it stop, and look at her, as if beckoning her to follow.
Then she did hear it. A deep groan. Very far away. Oops.She tried to make herself visible then. She tried to do her job. Shouted out in Common to the human miners---"Stop digging now and leave the tunnel!"They looked at her as if they didn't even understand. She ran closer to them, waving her arms urgently, and had to dodge another swung pick as a reward. "You've got to leave! It's going to fall!"Maybe they'll follow me if I run!She took off back down the tunnel, the dim flickering light of the lamps quickly fading into blackness as she scrambled upwards, as she felt the breath of the forest around her again, her feet suddenly leaping with the incredible speed of a woodland celestial escaping pursuers… and far behind her she heard it. The groan turned to an ear-splitting roar, pattered with the miners' screams. Oops. Oops.
When the dust settled she turned back, her limbs fighting her as if in pain. Dangerous job, stupid, you could've found another job. Just because everyone's rich in limestone around here doesn't mean you have to be.Still she crawled back down, through the dust, through the debris, groping in the darkness, listening for the cries, the choking breaths. When she finally found one, a warm body still moving, still fighting the crush of the earth that had buried him, she laid her clawed hand on the body with a sigh of relief. The soft glow she'd seen in her vision trickled from her hand, lighting up the man's bare skin before it seeped deep inside of him.
His groans of pain melted away, replaced with shocked silence, with a deep breath that didn't catch in the agony of broken ribs anymore. "Who are you?" he gasped.
"Nobody," she said, in Common. "Not me. It wasn't me." She dug him out of the rubble as he struggled free, his own strength returned, and then she disappeared into the shadows again. Let's get the next one! Oo, Bazili is going to fire me for sure after this.
I will close this thread on Friday, March 3, at 3 PM PST. At that time I will review any/all characters that have been submitted, and I will select 5-6 of them to go through this grand delusion I have created. PM's with the Roll20 link will go out to the selected few, and I am hoping to start the actual IC portion of this game on Monday, March 6.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
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A Greyhawk Campaign!
Please allow me to introduce you to..
+1 to DEX and +1 to INT
Bonus Feat: Keen Mind for a +1 to INT
If multiclass is allowed I would like to take Psi warrior levels too.
Son of a Suelian mother and Flaness father, he is just but another orphan from the Wars. His father died at the Battle of Kandred Meadows and his mother met the same fate just a few weeks later, when she tried to recover her husband body and her caravan was attacked by the soldiers of the Overking. Soon he was left in an auspicie where Gilwor Greymist, an elf member of the Thieve's Guild found him. He was impressed by the fast and keen mind of the child and took him with him. He taught him the inners and outs of the job, and with only 15 years Rasen was able to conduct his own jobs alone, always under the direction of Gilwor of course.
All was well until that job. Gilwor got word that a wizard had acquired a strange, big, and very expensive gem. It's origin was unknown, some said that it came from the Underdark, others that it had fallen from the skies, truth being told, that didn't matter to Gilwor neither Rasen. Rasen and his friend, Rothkesnlinski, a gnome, infiltrated the wizard's tower and reached the laboratory at the top, where the magic-user was about to conduct his experiments on the gem, using a young woman as a experimental subject. That was unexpected and the wizard's servants discovered them. They did their best but the Roth was killed in the fight. Rasen took the gem and threaten the wizard to smash it if he didn't let him and the girl go. The wizard, deranged, casted a powerful spell... the gem exploded, killing the wizard and the young woman. Rasen woke up in the middle of the destroyed laboratory and, still groggy, managed to escape before the Guard reach the scene.
It turned out that the woman was the daughter of a noble, and the gem was an artifact owned by the Academy and the wizard had stolen it. Everyone was looking for Rasen, to.. questioning him and to find an escape goat. Gilwor helped him escape the city and he went to the south, trying to stay low. That's how he reached Darkshelf.
PbP Character: A few ;)
Hark and behold the greatest Bard of our age.
Though small of stature, his legend overshadows the giants. Nocto the Halfling - the Bard Owl of Dennet's Snuggery. Have his songs delighted common folk and nobility alike? Assuredly so! Have his epics and plays been performed in courts across the land? Only the grandest! Has there ever been a bard to match his juggling and puppetry? Not in living memory! Did his foolishness lead to the death of the Amber Countess? Eh... well... yes...
Nocto was one of the most highly sought-after bards in the land. Traveling from estate to estate, sampling the finest wine and dallying with the courtesans, his life was all he could have imagined. Then, carelessly, he accepted a contract from a shadowy figure whom he would later discover was a member of the Subtle Thread. At the Midsommer feast at the Amber Castle, the unwitting halfling refilled the countess's goblet, not realizing that he had delivered her a lethal dose of the assassin's poison.
In the political battle that followed the murder, Nocto was able to call in enough favours and avoid the noose, but his reputation and standing in the Bards' college are in shambles. Nocto dreams of regaining his rightful place in the nobility. He is, for now, a penniless street entertainer, seeking a good meal for his belly and silk sheets to sleep in. He still has standards.
"A bottle of your finest, innkeep, and you may trust that this evening at the Gentle Boar will be one talked about through many a winter."
"Two silver'll get you a pitcher of gran's cherry wine."
"...Delightful. But, my good sir, you mean to charge for my supper? Is it possible you know me not?"
"Little feller what sings songs, I'd wager."
"Songs, for certain. But also epic poems, wonderous illusions, juggling, puppetry!"
"Two silvers for the pitcher. Four, if I gotta listen to poetry."
Player
I'm also player from the 1980s red-box days. I have played and DM'd a variety of RPGs over the decades, and dove into 5E with my kids in the last couple of years. This is my first foray into PBP. I'm being ably coached on the technical side by my teenagers, so I'm confident I can keep up. I'd love the opportunity to join this amazing campaign.
Are you still recruiting?
Udrien 3rd, the Goliath Monk - Lawful Good.
Name: Enoch
Race: Aasimar (Mordenkainen's Monsters of the Multiverse; +2 Cha, +1 Con)
Class: Divine Soul Sorcerer
Background: Custom Background - Haunted One (two languages, two skills)
Portrait:
Backstory: Enoch was born in a coastal village, by the churning sounds of Azure Sea. As an aasimar, the villagers soon found that the child possessed an extraordinary power - the ability to predict the tides and storms with astounding accuracy. The villagers viewed him as a divine blessing, a messenger of the heavens who brought prosperity and abundance to their humble village. Enoch was cherished, and his presence filled the village with a sense of hope and joy.
However, fate can be fickle, and Enoch's prophetic gift took a dark turn. His predictions began to go awry, and the villagers began to see him as a cursed child, a harbinger of doom. They turned on him, and their once-reverent attitude transformed into vicious cruelty. Enoch's spirit was shattered, and his body bore the scars of their abuse. Despite his cries for help, the heavens remained silent, and there was no escape from their wrath.
In a desperate attempt to appease the gods and calm the raging storms, the villagers came up with a gruesome solution - Enoch would be sacrificed to the sea. Consumed by anger and fear, the villagers agreed to the unthinkable. Enoch walked into the frigid water, and the chill bit at his skin. The icy water rose above his head, the waves merciless, each drop feeling like a thousand icy needles piercing his skin. Yet Enoch was not afraid. He knew that his fate was to be intertwined with the sea, forever one with the tides and storms.
Despite the sacrifice of their divine messenger, the village was not spared. A great wave rose from the sea, crashing down upon them, and everything in its path was drowned. Enoch was the only survivor, his body battered and bruised, his heart heavy with bitter anger and regret. He realized then that he could never trust the kindness of others again. That naïve child was lost in the sea forever.
Personality: Deeply scarred by the betrayal he suffered at the hands of those he once trusted, Enoch despises the way people tend to approach him, assuming his kindness solely based on his angelic appearance, and he would glare at them until they back off. He prefers to keep his distance in social interactions, always cold, distrustful, rarely opening up to others. He is fiercely motivated to attain power as a means of safeguarding himself from future harm. The memories of his past continue to haunt him, and his past wound evident in every guarded expression and cold, steely gaze he casts.
A writing sample of how your character came to be in Darkshelf: Enoch sat alone in the corner of the dimly lit tavern, nursing his ale as he brooded over his past. The tavern was bustling with rowdy patrons, but Enoch was hardly paying them any attention, lost in his thoughts. Standing at over six feet tall with broad shoulders and an imposing presence, he commanded respect without ever having to say a word. His celestial appearance drew the attention of a group of rough-looking strangers, who sauntered over to his table, their eyes fixed on him. Enoch's eyes flickered up at them, his expression stoic and guarded. His cold, authoritative gaze and sharp, chiseled features gave off an air of danger and made the strangers hesitate.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” One of the strangers leered. “Looks like a pretty boy's wandered into our little corner of the world." Enoch's jaw tightened, but he still remained silent, his face like stone. Another of the strangers chimed in, "What's the matter, pretty boy? Cat got your tongue?" Enoch's grip on his mug tightened, placing it down on the table with a harsh thud, the muscles on his arm bulging. He glared at them with deep blue eyes that pierced through their bravado, making the strangers grow uneasy and take a step back.
Watching them leave with an annoyed gaze, Enoch picked up his thoughts again. He heard of Darkshelf’s reputation as a haven for those seeking to escape their past, and he hoped to start anew there, to escape the pain of his past, but he also knew that this city was a place where power was highly valued. And Enoch had always been ambitious, driven to attain power as a means of protecting himself from ever being hurt again. So he sat in the tavern, his mind churning with plans and schemes, waiting for the right opportunity to present itself.
Character sheet: https://ddb.ac/characters/94926765/NZpMbx
Question: is Lunar Sorcerer allowed?
Unfortunately, no. I do not own the Dragonlance book, so I can't allow it as I have no chance to review it. And I want to keep this to material I own.
In addition to this, you have already submitted a character, and you aren't allowed to submit more than one.
Jesus saves. Everyone else takes damage.
My character is -> https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/94895905 , sorry I forget.
Udrien 3rd, the Goliath Monk - Lawful Good.
Character Name: Phodoxia
Character Race and Class: Goblin, Celestial Warlock (per her backstory), with plan to multiclass into Rogue (per her character history and temperament). How many levels go into each one will depend a lot on how the story goes...
Character Background: Criminal/Spy
Character Portrait:
Character Personality: Secretive would be the one word description of this goblin. Wary, scrappy, and manipulative, when dealing with others Phodoxia will employ a wide range of friendly overtures, charm, fawning, ferocity, or threats depending on the situation. Or, she'll just disappear. Superimposed upon her natural self-preserving goblin nature is the terms of her pact, of healing and virtue, terms which she will not break whatsoever, although she often tries to hide the reasons for her refusal as if embarrassed of them. Of other ties that bind her, she is very socially oriented, as goblins tend to be, but divested of her own clan, she'll attach herself to others to accomplish her goals or achieve security.
Character Backstory:
Raiding parties and crime syndicates were the hallmarks of Phodoxia's goblin parents and from a young age she was involved in these activities as well. Thoughtful and suspicious, she remained aloof even from fellow goblins and sought influence to keep herself untouchable. Whether this was by fawning, charm, performance, intimidation, or pure stealth and avoidance, she maintained this untouchable approach to life.
But, as criminal and spy undertakings will have their risk, the goblin was cornered one day by a contingent of elves whom her syndicate had been robbing at the edges of the forest of Celadon. She was unable to escape except to flee into Celadon, pursued hotly by the elves. They were more at home there than she and she could not outmaneuver them, but suddenly they left the chase, laughing merrily, and the beautiful forest seemed to close in like the jaws of a steel trap on the goblin. Sprites and brownies with bared teeth and fey fury came at the goblin's intrusion. Despite her charms and maneuvering they were not fooled, and strung her up to kill her. Yet the guardian of that forest was a powerful unicorn, and Phodoxia begged and fawned for mercy from the celestial being. The fact that she was still a virgin (rare in goblin society at an adult age) aroused the unicorn's goodwill and it made a pact with her while she swore up and down to change her ways if only her life would be spared.
As the servant of a unicorn, Phodoxia could not return to her previous life. The unicorn's hidden sanctuary nature meshed well with how she had lived her life anyway, but by the terms of her pact she now had certain promises she had to fulfill: She would always need to heal non-evil-aligned wounded creatures if she was able. She could no longer steal. She must remain a virgin. She could no longer use poisons.
The radiant energy has transformed her over time and she sometimes finds herself actually enjoying the practice of virtue, of smiting fiends and rooting out evil. She is quite devoted to the unicorn, in a sense, although she fears it in a subservient sort of way. Left to herself as she is most of the time, outside of the terms of her pact she still likes to hide or ingratiate herself with whoever happens to be around. She'll window shop things she can't steal, make antidotes to poisons, play her flute and make some promises if she impresses anyone, and then disappear. Unable to support herself by robbery any longer, or be tolerated long in the circles she knew, Phodoxia travels from place to place seeking "honest work" enough to survive.
A writing sample of how your character came to be in Darkshelf:
The job was boring and it smelled bad. The human miners sweat and groaned in the dark, singing irritating songs, and would swing their picks at her often or not as they had a chance. The goblin stayed in the shadows, staying out of their way, clawed hands pressed to the wall or ceiling of the jagged stone stope, listening.
Bazili only hired her because he claimed the human workers couldn't hear underground streams or weak spots in the rock like his dwarves could. Of course, she told him she could. She'd never tried. It wasn't really untrue. She had large, long ears, and of course Bazili knew goblins lived underground as a matter of routine and knew about these things.
No cave-ins and no floods since he'd hired her for two silver a day a fortnight ago. Phodoxia liked to think it was a good record. She hadn't heard anything funny, and no one had died. They didn't make her hurry the carts or help with the getting, because she wasn't very big, and most of the time they didn't see her anyway. They'll see me when it's important.
But today she felt something. She didn't hear it. Just something felt wrong. A thought came into her mind, of the old forest, far away above the stone tunnels, a thought of wild creatures running, escaping a trap. A trap. And the unicorn, white as pale cloud wisping through the deep undergrowth, she saw it stop, and look at her, as if beckoning her to follow.
Then she did hear it. A deep groan. Very far away. Oops. She tried to make herself visible then. She tried to do her job. Shouted out in Common to the human miners---"Stop digging now and leave the tunnel!" They looked at her as if they didn't even understand. She ran closer to them, waving her arms urgently, and had to dodge another swung pick as a reward. "You've got to leave! It's going to fall!" Maybe they'll follow me if I run! She took off back down the tunnel, the dim flickering light of the lamps quickly fading into blackness as she scrambled upwards, as she felt the breath of the forest around her again, her feet suddenly leaping with the incredible speed of a woodland celestial escaping pursuers… and far behind her she heard it. The groan turned to an ear-splitting roar, pattered with the miners' screams. Oops. Oops.
When the dust settled she turned back, her limbs fighting her as if in pain. Dangerous job, stupid, you could've found another job. Just because everyone's rich in limestone around here doesn't mean you have to be. Still she crawled back down, through the dust, through the debris, groping in the darkness, listening for the cries, the choking breaths. When she finally found one, a warm body still moving, still fighting the crush of the earth that had buried him, she laid her clawed hand on the body with a sigh of relief. The soft glow she'd seen in her vision trickled from her hand, lighting up the man's bare skin before it seeped deep inside of him.
His groans of pain melted away, replaced with shocked silence, with a deep breath that didn't catch in the agony of broken ribs anymore. "Who are you?" he gasped.
"Nobody," she said, in Common. "Not me. It wasn't me." She dug him out of the rubble as he struggled free, his own strength returned, and then she disappeared into the shadows again. Let's get the next one! Oo, Bazili is going to fire me for sure after this.
A link to your Character Sheet: https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/95103969
Still recruiting? Or closed?
Deadline
I will close this thread on Friday, March 3, at 3 PM PST. At that time I will review any/all characters that have been submitted, and I will select 5-6 of them to go through this grand delusion I have created. PM's with the Roll20 link will go out to the selected few, and I am hoping to start the actual IC portion of this game on Monday, March 6.
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)