4000 years ago, There were 3 planes of the world, at the bottom the hell realm, filled with demons and horrors unmatched. There were 7 leaders of these evils that lead all the rest, the devils. Their names have been lost to time. in the middle of the planes their were the earthlings, normal creatures who lived with evils and greats. and then their were the high realms where the gods and dragons lived. it was a paradise, where only the greatest of heroes went after death. One day the demons escaped their horrible prison and feasted on earthling flesh. the gods and dragons saw this with horror and descended to the peoples aid. Many were lost in the great battle that ensued lasting 7 days. on the 7th day the humans and dragons and gods had almost completely sent the eldritch horrors back to their realms, the devil lord, lucifer cast a spell to keep all celestial gods and dragons stuck in the mortal realm, but fortunatley he was cast back to hell before he could lock the gods in. unfortunately he was able to keep all dragons and heroes in the earthly realm where most wasted away after a couple hundred years. the heroes were almost all succesful at creating bloodlines, but few dragons were able to do so. And here we are 4000 years later in need of more heroes help. A wizard in the kingdom of millgarde has returned with horrible news. The demons are coming back. And there here to kill.
Please put your character's name, backstory, class and link to your character sheet.
all levels start at one
The cutoff date is Feb 15th
I will PM (personal message) you if you get in
Please link your Character sheet.
there are two parties 1: The good party follower of the celestial gods and are trying to stop the demon party from starting the armageddon 2: the opposite evil the followers of the devils and lucifer who are trying to start the armageddon Clerics and paladins are exclusive to the good party while warlocks and rogues are exclusive to the evil party
I can put people who request certain parties in others if one has too many and the other too few.
This is the story of a boy, not a man. Relative to his race he's still just a teenager, but his sense of duty is strong. Raised among men, he knows nothing of his ancestry, but so what? His duty is to those he does know!
He was apparently abandoned at birth. His foster father, Lorus -- an old human, found him in the wood while hunting for grouse. Feeling sympathy for the lost soul, he brought the child home with the intent of finding an orphanage that could take him, as he and his wife, Ada, were surely long past the age of child rearing. However, upon seeing the babe swaddled in stained silk and soft hay, his wife's face warmed to a gentle smile he'd thought all but gone. You see, their children were long gone, all dead from a sordid plague that had swept through the area decades ago. They had mourned and found peace with time, but things were never quite as bright. Now, Lord's saw a smile on his woman's face he didn't want to see fade away. The next night, the old couple christened their son, Roland.
The next few years became the happiest of their lives in decades. In very short time, Roland had grown to become an earnest, good-natured boy, strong-willed, enthusiastic, gentle with the livestock, and an avid naturalist. In short order, Lorus had come to love this boy as his own, just as his wife had the moment she saw him. The two found themselves eager to give this child all they could. They did their best to teach him his numbers and letters. They taught him proper manners and charity. They instilled in him a curiosity for the world around him and nourished his natural sense of order for everything around him. To that end, it was the surprise of no one who knew him that on his 13th birthday, he asked his father to train him in the sword.
Alas, Lorus was no swordsman. He was barely a hunter. As such, he could not teach his son what he wanted. Feeling guilty about his shortcomings, he instead taught the boy all he knew in hunting, which to his credit kept the child occupied for some time. Roland was young and idealistic, eager to learn all that he could. And so, he lapped up every word as if it were a precious resource, learning how to identify poisonous plants and fruits, trapping, skinning, cooking, camouflage, firestarting, and camping all around. His eyes seemed to glow at every new prospect, his curiosity unflinching.
But as time went on, his old itch returned. On his 16th birthday, he again asked his father to learn proper swordsmanship. By this time, Lorus was well into his seventies and had long lost any sort of resistance to his sons' whims. Luckily, spring rutting had brought unforseen providence. Lorus had managed to bag a large older buck during one of his hunts. Seeing opportunity in both money and a trip to the nearest town, he quickly set about cleaning the great beast. With Roland's help, he had the bucks' meat salted and stored away, immediately getting to work tanning it's grand, thick hide. After two days of arduous coating, careful heating and consistent soaks, the hide was ready for market.
The road to Sawforge was not a long, but in Lorus' age, he had slowed significantly. The trip, as such, would take at least a day. Naturally, Roland would come too, though he could not suspect why, the old man mused. The first days ride went without trouble. Warm sun, soft breeze and narry another traveler to be seen. That night, the skies were clear, the dark sky awash in a portrait of hundreds of thousands of jewels, twinkling softly amidst black satin and pale moonlight. When morning came, so did rain. A miserable downpour, at that. Rather than brave the squall, father and son elected to wait under a nearby canopy of thick trees. They made a temporary shelter, expecting to be back on the road by noon, but as light began to fade behind the swollen gray clouds, it became clear the rain would not stop before nightfall. Sleep came slow that night. But when it did, it was thoroughly welcomed.
By noon the next day, the two had reached Sawforge, a sizeable walled townships of fair repute with a full posting of guards, cobbled streets and a bustling marketplace. The fresh aroma of baked cakes and grilled meat mingled with the smoke of the nearby smithy. Chatter from curious shoppers and laughter of gossiping citizens filled the din of the marketplace, bringing further warmth to the scene. As Lorus began unpacking his goods for barter, he told Roland to take a walk, enjoy the sights while he did some business with the local artisans. By all means, this was not Roland's first time to Sawforge; he had come here seasonally for years. But it was always a treat to return and see how things had changed. He started in the market district, browsing both the fine wares and the finer foods. Then, with his curiosity and his appetite sated, the young man walked to the guard house, eager to watch some training drills or perhaps catch a few practice fights.
Before he knew it, the day had gone and the sun was setting. It was just before the strike of dusk that Lorus found him. The old man was carrying a long parcel and beaming broadly. With a clumsy flourish, he opened the parcel. To his son, for his 16th birthday, Lorus had bought his boy a longsword, polished and sharp to a fine hewn edge. The boy's face lit up immediately. He hugged his father with the strength of three, prompting Lorus to let out an exasperated cough as he felt his feet leave the ground. Though, his surprise wasn't over yet. With genuine astonishment plastered on his face, Roland was led across to the guard house. There, he was introduced to Quartermaster Burkin and Guard Captain North. Lorus explained that both men were friends of his and that they had agreed to hire the boy as a squire to the town guard. In exchange for his work in cleaning and preparing meals, sharpening weapons and washing armor, Roland was to be trained in the sword, the shield and the spear. If he did his work well, they even offered pay.
So began Roland's dream. Every morning, he'd stir at the crack of dawn, doing various morning chores and preparing plates and meals for the changing of the twilight guard. While they ate, he'd clean and sharpen his blade, stowing it once more when it was time to wash dishes. By noon, he'd have the laundry rung out and hung to dry, ready to take them down and fold them within an hour or two. At that point, by mid-afternoon, it was time for sparring sessions and drill runs. The burn was intense, more than the kid had ever expected. But he loved it, every moment. Like it was learning to hunt in the woods, every scrap of knowledge was a new wonder for him. He learned every thrust he could, struck with vigor and enthusiasm, treated his shield like an extension of himself and honed his form like a well-trained soldier. Granted, his charge was sloppy and he was still barely a novice, but his zeal for this was palpable to all who watched him. And many certainly watched. It wasn't often that a human township played host to an elf of any sort. His was a sight to behold.
At the end of training each day, he would help Master Burkin fix evening meals, before taking to the wash house for a brief bath alongside the retiring afternoon shift. Then he'd retire himself to his quarters behind the kitchen, taking a few moments to write his parents of all he had learned. These letters would then be delivered at the end of each month. Young Roland would then lay back and close his eyes, reviewing all he had done himself and meditating on his lessons to come. This was the boy's schedule for six long years. In that time, Roland had become a fine young man, worthy of carrying the seal of Sawforge on his shield and walking his rounds as the youngest of the guard. He was still underage by elven standards, but in his mind, he was a man.
On his 24th birthday, however, his life changed. He received word from his father: his mother was ill. Believing her to be on her deathbed, Lorus wished his son come home before she passed. He didn't need prompting. He was on the road at a blistering sprint before noon of that day. His wild blood carried him, but his training delivered him. He arrived that night, as the moon hung low in the sky. It was as Lorus had feared: Ada was close to her end. At first, upon walking in, her gaze seemed so distant. But upon seeing her son, strong, proud, healthy and standing in her doorway, a warm gentle smile spread on her face, like the morning's sun. He took her hand into his, Lorus grasping her other. They were so cold. He was so sorry for not being home, for not spending more time with her. But Ada only shushed him, the smile on her face never wavering. She moved her hand up his face, softly wiping his tears away. She was so proud of all he'd become, her little wild child. She didn't want him to feel such regrets. "Be not remorseful that it is over," she chided faintly "Instead, feel joy that it happened." He assured her he would. He swore he would not cry more, a promise he couldn't keep as more tears ran down his face. She gently nodded, slowly sinking back onto her pillow. She turned to Lorus, smiling still, and whispered, "Thank you, my love, for bringing our son home." Lorus, red eyed and speechless, gave his wife one final kiss on her cheek. She drew in one final breath and closed her eyes, letting out a long deep sigh.
They buried her in the forest, up an old game trail in the Western hills. The earth was soft and sunlight peeked between deep green leaves as birds sang sweet songs. Before Roland could ask the significance of such a place, Lorus told him it was where he'd found an elf child and brought him home, raising him as their son. She had asked to be laid there. She wanted to sleep eternal in such a wonderful spot. Lorus thought for a moment, then asked his son a favor. When his time came, he wanted to lay there, next to her. His son nodded, silent in this realization. He did not return to his duty in Sawforge, instead electing to remain at home and help his father settle all affairs. As time passed, the older chickens died or were sold off. The cow too. Eventually, only the family horse and the house remained.
On his 26th birthday, Roland buried his father. Tears had been shed and pain long caused. But he wasn't sad that his father had died peacefully in his sleep. He was instead happy that he'd seen them both off. He quietly walked through his childhood home, tightening his armor, lacing his boots. Everything was stored away. Books had been stowed and portraits were wrapped securely. The meat and the oil had all been properly disposed of. Roland closed each door and drew the curtains. He checked to ensure the fireplace was good and cold. He gave the empty home one last look. Then he opened the front door and departed, locking it with a large padlock before walking to his horse. He loaded the last of his supplies and mounted his steed, pulling away and riding off to adventures unknown.
Sylas only knows he descended down from a celestial being. Not knowing who and where he really came from In his soul, he knows he was put on the earthly realm to protect as well bring peace and justice to the world. He took an Oath as a Paladin, and has been doing everything he can to put a stop to evil in this world.
Balgron was a leader of the hosts of good and at the forefront of every battle against the hordes of evil. Slaying about him with great power and laying many a devil low. However, in the end his partner and lover was killed in battle with the devils. Balgron raged against the gods blaming them for his loss, and turned on them, driving his spear through the hearts of many of his former collegues and heroes. Finally, he came face to face with a greater god and was cast out, his powers ripped from him as he was sent to hell, a shell of his former self. But now there is another chance. He has been sent back to help bring forth the devil horde. He is weak still, but feels his power begin to grow. Soon. Soon his vengeance that began all those years ago will come.
Thorne has spent his life as an acolyte of an ancient church order that has been waiting and preparing for the day when this ancient evil would return. Now that that day has arrived, Thorne has been sent by his order to help drive back the evil.
ok we have 3 light people and 1 dark person. Im ASKING the next person to be dark. If you really want to be light you can But it means that everyone who signs up after you will be dark until its even. I really dont want to force peoples hands
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
heh.. last time I tried to play Chaotic Evil, it came out more like Mildly Chaotic Wonky... leaning more toward Chaotic Good. Darkside *makes wheezy breathing noises* Let me see....
Balgron was a leader of the hosts of good and at the forefront of every battle against the hordes of evil. Slaying about him with great power and laying many a devil low. However, in the end his partner and lover was killed in battle with the devils. Balgron raged against the gods blaming them for his loss, and turned on them, driving his spear through the hearts of many of his former collegues and heroes. Finally, he came face to face with a greater god and was cast out, his powers ripped from him as he was sent to hell, a shell of his former self. But now there is another chance. He has been sent back to help bring forth the devil horde. He is weak still, but feels his power begin to grow. Soon. Soon his vengeance that began all those years ago will come.
Hey is it possible you could give me the dnd character sheet, helps out a ton
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I AM HOMICIDE I AM THE EMBODIMENT OF FIRE I AM STRENGTH AND POWER PRAISE LORD JEFF THE EVIL ROOOOOOOMMMBBBAAAAA
I AM PURE HATE! MY NAME IS BURDURXA SHADEMAKER! TREMBLE IN FEAR AT ITS MENTION!!!! PM ME THE WORD TOMATO OR I WILL SLAP YOUR FIRST BORN CHILD!!
Was dead drunk on his feet one long weekend and passed out. Woke up with a crystal embedded in his chest and a scroll that declared he was now in the service of The Fiend... who ever that was. Once he was able to sober up, Synntax was discovering he had the beginnings of 'Real Power'... and also, a deep obligation to his new Patron. I mean, his life was fast heading into a long walk off a short pier as things stood up 'til now... being a bad ass might turn things around in the long run.
*** Synntax has also discovered that alcohol no longer affects him as it once did. However, if he imbibes too much, he WILL end up in an alley bringing it all back up all the same. ***
What method of stat generation do you want? I am going to create a dark character who isn't a warlock for a bit of diversity. Still deciding on exactly what.
What method of stat generation do you want? I am going to create a dark character who isn't a warlock for a bit of diversity. Still deciding on exactly what.
roll 4d6's for your ability scores please.
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I AM HOMICIDE I AM THE EMBODIMENT OF FIRE I AM STRENGTH AND POWER PRAISE LORD JEFF THE EVIL ROOOOOOOMMMBBBAAAAA
I AM PURE HATE! MY NAME IS BURDURXA SHADEMAKER! TREMBLE IN FEAR AT ITS MENTION!!!! PM ME THE WORD TOMATO OR I WILL SLAP YOUR FIRST BORN CHILD!!
am I able to use a homebrew type thing where a human was turned into a-- yk what, could you just look at this and tell me if it's fine or if I need a new character? I'm currently making the stats and character sheet for it. I also have another character if you would rather smth a tiny bit less homebrew.
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"There are things in the universe that are simply and purely evil.
A warrior does not seek to understand them, or to compromise with them.
Wish I could play, I would only be able to play for consistent amounts of time on weekends and maybe not even then. I'm also GMT timezone, so you'd have to work around that.
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I am a Star Wars nerd who is obsessed with roleplay, sci-fi, and brutal murder.
Pronouns he/him. PM me the word tomato 🍅 or the word Banana 🍌
I am an Unstrikable Warrior, as drummer dictated. Do not waste your energy in attempts to strike me, for it will fail.
I am a knight of the fallen order, an undying saviour, a defeater of tyrants and a bane of evil.
am I able to use a homebrew type thing where a human was turned into a-- yk what, could you just look at this and tell me if it's fine or if I need a new character? I'm currently making the stats and character sheet for it. I also have another character if you would rather smth a tiny bit less homebrew.
A snail robot. hmmmm. um I dont think that will work, its a little too wonky.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I AM HOMICIDE I AM THE EMBODIMENT OF FIRE I AM STRENGTH AND POWER PRAISE LORD JEFF THE EVIL ROOOOOOOMMMBBBAAAAA
I AM PURE HATE! MY NAME IS BURDURXA SHADEMAKER! TREMBLE IN FEAR AT ITS MENTION!!!! PM ME THE WORD TOMATO OR I WILL SLAP YOUR FIRST BORN CHILD!!
Wish I could play, I would only be able to play for consistent amounts of time on weekends and maybe not even then. I'm also GMT timezone, so you'd have to work around that.
I am also GMT. Timezones are theoretically not an issue for PbP. It is one of the perks.
Name: Othokent
Backstory: Othokent is a lizardfolk. His tribe was a nomadic tribe which got him exploring the world. On this adventure, they came across a glade that looked like a peaceful haven. While they set up camp, mushrooms grew around, suddenly releasing spores into the air. The whole of his tribe started dying, and while he was on death's door, a figure came and spoke to him. It offered him a continued chance at life if he helped bring chaos back into the world. Chaos was something that Otho enjoyed, as it often led to death, and therefore free food so he gladly took the offer. The figure then started to teach him druidism, but with a focus on death rather than life. It was through this bond that led him to want to bring Armageddon around.
4000 years ago, There were 3 planes of the world, at the bottom the hell realm, filled with demons and horrors unmatched. There were 7 leaders of these evils that lead all the rest, the devils. Their names have been lost to time. in the middle of the planes their were the earthlings, normal creatures who lived with evils and greats. and then their were the high realms where the gods and dragons lived. it was a paradise, where only the greatest of heroes went after death. One day the demons escaped their horrible prison and feasted on earthling flesh. the gods and dragons saw this with horror and descended to the peoples aid. Many were lost in the great battle that ensued lasting 7 days. on the 7th day the humans and dragons and gods had almost completely sent the eldritch horrors back to their realms, the devil lord, lucifer cast a spell to keep all celestial gods and dragons stuck in the mortal realm, but fortunatley he was cast back to hell before he could lock the gods in. unfortunately he was able to keep all dragons and heroes in the earthly realm where most wasted away after a couple hundred years. the heroes were almost all succesful at creating bloodlines, but few dragons were able to do so. And here we are 4000 years later in need of more heroes help. A wizard in the kingdom of millgarde has returned with horrible news. The demons are coming back. And there here to kill.
Please put your character's name, backstory, class and link to your character sheet.
all levels start at one
The cutoff date is Feb 15th
I will PM (personal message) you if you get in
Please link your Character sheet.
there are two parties 1: The good party follower of the celestial gods and are trying to stop the demon party from starting the armageddon 2: the opposite evil the followers of the devils and lucifer who are trying to start the armageddon Clerics and paladins are exclusive to the good party while warlocks and rogues are exclusive to the evil party
I can put people who request certain parties in others if one has too many and the other too few.
I AM HOMICIDE I AM THE EMBODIMENT OF FIRE I AM STRENGTH AND POWER PRAISE LORD JEFF THE EVIL ROOOOOOOMMMBBBAAAAA
I AM PURE HATE! MY NAME IS BURDURXA SHADEMAKER! TREMBLE IN FEAR AT ITS MENTION!!!! PM ME THE WORD TOMATO OR I WILL SLAP YOUR FIRST BORN CHILD!!
MY VENOM SYMBIOTE: FFFFUUUUUURRRRRRRRYYYYYYYY
Name: Roland of Dennimar
Race: Wood Elf
Class: Fighter
Backstory (sorry in advance):
This is the story of a boy, not a man. Relative to his race he's still just a teenager, but his sense of duty is strong. Raised among men, he knows nothing of his ancestry, but so what? His duty is to those he does know!
He was apparently abandoned at birth. His foster father, Lorus -- an old human, found him in the wood while hunting for grouse. Feeling sympathy for the lost soul, he brought the child home with the intent of finding an orphanage that could take him, as he and his wife, Ada, were surely long past the age of child rearing. However, upon seeing the babe swaddled in stained silk and soft hay, his wife's face warmed to a gentle smile he'd thought all but gone. You see, their children were long gone, all dead from a sordid plague that had swept through the area decades ago. They had mourned and found peace with time, but things were never quite as bright. Now, Lord's saw a smile on his woman's face he didn't want to see fade away. The next night, the old couple christened their son, Roland.
The next few years became the happiest of their lives in decades. In very short time, Roland had grown to become an earnest, good-natured boy, strong-willed, enthusiastic, gentle with the livestock, and an avid naturalist. In short order, Lorus had come to love this boy as his own, just as his wife had the moment she saw him. The two found themselves eager to give this child all they could. They did their best to teach him his numbers and letters. They taught him proper manners and charity. They instilled in him a curiosity for the world around him and nourished his natural sense of order for everything around him. To that end, it was the surprise of no one who knew him that on his 13th birthday, he asked his father to train him in the sword.
Alas, Lorus was no swordsman. He was barely a hunter. As such, he could not teach his son what he wanted. Feeling guilty about his shortcomings, he instead taught the boy all he knew in hunting, which to his credit kept the child occupied for some time. Roland was young and idealistic, eager to learn all that he could. And so, he lapped up every word as if it were a precious resource, learning how to identify poisonous plants and fruits, trapping, skinning, cooking, camouflage, firestarting, and camping all around. His eyes seemed to glow at every new prospect, his curiosity unflinching.
But as time went on, his old itch returned. On his 16th birthday, he again asked his father to learn proper swordsmanship. By this time, Lorus was well into his seventies and had long lost any sort of resistance to his sons' whims. Luckily, spring rutting had brought unforseen providence. Lorus had managed to bag a large older buck during one of his hunts. Seeing opportunity in both money and a trip to the nearest town, he quickly set about cleaning the great beast. With Roland's help, he had the bucks' meat salted and stored away, immediately getting to work tanning it's grand, thick hide. After two days of arduous coating, careful heating and consistent soaks, the hide was ready for market.
The road to Sawforge was not a long, but in Lorus' age, he had slowed significantly. The trip, as such, would take at least a day. Naturally, Roland would come too, though he could not suspect why, the old man mused. The first days ride went without trouble. Warm sun, soft breeze and narry another traveler to be seen. That night, the skies were clear, the dark sky awash in a portrait of hundreds of thousands of jewels, twinkling softly amidst black satin and pale moonlight. When morning came, so did rain. A miserable downpour, at that. Rather than brave the squall, father and son elected to wait under a nearby canopy of thick trees. They made a temporary shelter, expecting to be back on the road by noon, but as light began to fade behind the swollen gray clouds, it became clear the rain would not stop before nightfall. Sleep came slow that night. But when it did, it was thoroughly welcomed.
By noon the next day, the two had reached Sawforge, a sizeable walled townships of fair repute with a full posting of guards, cobbled streets and a bustling marketplace. The fresh aroma of baked cakes and grilled meat mingled with the smoke of the nearby smithy. Chatter from curious shoppers and laughter of gossiping citizens filled the din of the marketplace, bringing further warmth to the scene. As Lorus began unpacking his goods for barter, he told Roland to take a walk, enjoy the sights while he did some business with the local artisans. By all means, this was not Roland's first time to Sawforge; he had come here seasonally for years. But it was always a treat to return and see how things had changed. He started in the market district, browsing both the fine wares and the finer foods. Then, with his curiosity and his appetite sated, the young man walked to the guard house, eager to watch some training drills or perhaps catch a few practice fights.
Before he knew it, the day had gone and the sun was setting. It was just before the strike of dusk that Lorus found him. The old man was carrying a long parcel and beaming broadly. With a clumsy flourish, he opened the parcel. To his son, for his 16th birthday, Lorus had bought his boy a longsword, polished and sharp to a fine hewn edge. The boy's face lit up immediately. He hugged his father with the strength of three, prompting Lorus to let out an exasperated cough as he felt his feet leave the ground. Though, his surprise wasn't over yet. With genuine astonishment plastered on his face, Roland was led across to the guard house. There, he was introduced to Quartermaster Burkin and Guard Captain North. Lorus explained that both men were friends of his and that they had agreed to hire the boy as a squire to the town guard. In exchange for his work in cleaning and preparing meals, sharpening weapons and washing armor, Roland was to be trained in the sword, the shield and the spear. If he did his work well, they even offered pay.
So began Roland's dream. Every morning, he'd stir at the crack of dawn, doing various morning chores and preparing plates and meals for the changing of the twilight guard. While they ate, he'd clean and sharpen his blade, stowing it once more when it was time to wash dishes. By noon, he'd have the laundry rung out and hung to dry, ready to take them down and fold them within an hour or two. At that point, by mid-afternoon, it was time for sparring sessions and drill runs. The burn was intense, more than the kid had ever expected. But he loved it, every moment. Like it was learning to hunt in the woods, every scrap of knowledge was a new wonder for him. He learned every thrust he could, struck with vigor and enthusiasm, treated his shield like an extension of himself and honed his form like a well-trained soldier. Granted, his charge was sloppy and he was still barely a novice, but his zeal for this was palpable to all who watched him. And many certainly watched. It wasn't often that a human township played host to an elf of any sort. His was a sight to behold.
At the end of training each day, he would help Master Burkin fix evening meals, before taking to the wash house for a brief bath alongside the retiring afternoon shift. Then he'd retire himself to his quarters behind the kitchen, taking a few moments to write his parents of all he had learned. These letters would then be delivered at the end of each month. Young Roland would then lay back and close his eyes, reviewing all he had done himself and meditating on his lessons to come. This was the boy's schedule for six long years. In that time, Roland had become a fine young man, worthy of carrying the seal of Sawforge on his shield and walking his rounds as the youngest of the guard. He was still underage by elven standards, but in his mind, he was a man.
On his 24th birthday, however, his life changed. He received word from his father: his mother was ill. Believing her to be on her deathbed, Lorus wished his son come home before she passed. He didn't need prompting. He was on the road at a blistering sprint before noon of that day. His wild blood carried him, but his training delivered him. He arrived that night, as the moon hung low in the sky. It was as Lorus had feared: Ada was close to her end. At first, upon walking in, her gaze seemed so distant. But upon seeing her son, strong, proud, healthy and standing in her doorway, a warm gentle smile spread on her face, like the morning's sun. He took her hand into his, Lorus grasping her other. They were so cold. He was so sorry for not being home, for not spending more time with her. But Ada only shushed him, the smile on her face never wavering. She moved her hand up his face, softly wiping his tears away. She was so proud of all he'd become, her little wild child. She didn't want him to feel such regrets. "Be not remorseful that it is over," she chided faintly "Instead, feel joy that it happened." He assured her he would. He swore he would not cry more, a promise he couldn't keep as more tears ran down his face. She gently nodded, slowly sinking back onto her pillow. She turned to Lorus, smiling still, and whispered, "Thank you, my love, for bringing our son home." Lorus, red eyed and speechless, gave his wife one final kiss on her cheek. She drew in one final breath and closed her eyes, letting out a long deep sigh.
They buried her in the forest, up an old game trail in the Western hills. The earth was soft and sunlight peeked between deep green leaves as birds sang sweet songs. Before Roland could ask the significance of such a place, Lorus told him it was where he'd found an elf child and brought him home, raising him as their son. She had asked to be laid there. She wanted to sleep eternal in such a wonderful spot. Lorus thought for a moment, then asked his son a favor. When his time came, he wanted to lay there, next to her. His son nodded, silent in this realization. He did not return to his duty in Sawforge, instead electing to remain at home and help his father settle all affairs. As time passed, the older chickens died or were sold off. The cow too. Eventually, only the family horse and the house remained.
On his 26th birthday, Roland buried his father. Tears had been shed and pain long caused. But he wasn't sad that his father had died peacefully in his sleep. He was instead happy that he'd seen them both off. He quietly walked through his childhood home, tightening his armor, lacing his boots. Everything was stored away. Books had been stowed and portraits were wrapped securely. The meat and the oil had all been properly disposed of. Roland closed each door and drew the curtains. He checked to ensure the fireplace was good and cold. He gave the empty home one last look. Then he opened the front door and departed, locking it with a large padlock before walking to his horse. He loaded the last of his supplies and mounted his steed, pulling away and riding off to adventures unknown.
If after all that, you still want it, here's the link: https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/117317251
He's lawful-good, so I assume he'd be a natural hero.
Name: Sylas
Race: Aasimar
Class: Paladin
Sylas only knows he descended down from a celestial being. Not knowing who and where he really came from In his soul, he knows he was put on the earthly realm to protect as well bring peace and justice to the world. He took an Oath as a Paladin, and has been doing everything he can to put a stop to evil in this world.
https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/117401091
Name: Balgron The Fallen
Race: Aasimar
Class: Warlock Hexblade
Balgron was a leader of the hosts of good and at the forefront of every battle against the hordes of evil. Slaying about him with great power and laying many a devil low. However, in the end his partner and lover was killed in battle with the devils. Balgron raged against the gods blaming them for his loss, and turned on them, driving his spear through the hearts of many of his former collegues and heroes. Finally, he came face to face with a greater god and was cast out, his powers ripped from him as he was sent to hell, a shell of his former self. But now there is another chance. He has been sent back to help bring forth the devil horde. He is weak still, but feels his power begin to grow. Soon. Soon his vengeance that began all those years ago will come.
Ability scores: 11 12 13 11 14 15
Name: Thorne Riverwater
Race: vHuman
Class: Cleric (life domain)
Thorne has spent his life as an acolyte of an ancient church order that has been waiting and preparing for the day when this ancient evil would return. Now that that day has arrived, Thorne has been sent by his order to help drive back the evil.
https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/118646389/u5kYPI
ok we have 3 light people and 1 dark person. Im ASKING the next person to be dark. If you really want to be light you can But it means that everyone who signs up after you will be dark until its even. I really dont want to force peoples hands
I AM HOMICIDE I AM THE EMBODIMENT OF FIRE I AM STRENGTH AND POWER PRAISE LORD JEFF THE EVIL ROOOOOOOMMMBBBAAAAA
I AM PURE HATE! MY NAME IS BURDURXA SHADEMAKER! TREMBLE IN FEAR AT ITS MENTION!!!! PM ME THE WORD TOMATO OR I WILL SLAP YOUR FIRST BORN CHILD!!
MY VENOM SYMBIOTE: FFFFUUUUUURRRRRRRRYYYYYYYY
heh.. last time I tried to play Chaotic Evil, it came out more like Mildly Chaotic Wonky... leaning more toward Chaotic Good. Darkside *makes wheezy breathing noises* Let me see....
Ability scores: 9 15 16 12 15 13
Hey is it possible you could give me the dnd character sheet, helps out a ton
I AM HOMICIDE I AM THE EMBODIMENT OF FIRE I AM STRENGTH AND POWER PRAISE LORD JEFF THE EVIL ROOOOOOOMMMBBBAAAAA
I AM PURE HATE! MY NAME IS BURDURXA SHADEMAKER! TREMBLE IN FEAR AT ITS MENTION!!!! PM ME THE WORD TOMATO OR I WILL SLAP YOUR FIRST BORN CHILD!!
MY VENOM SYMBIOTE: FFFFUUUUUURRRRRRRRYYYYYYYY
https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/117471497
Tiefling Warlock 1 -- Synntax
Yep, he is a broken syntax :p
Was dead drunk on his feet one long weekend and passed out. Woke up with a crystal embedded in his chest and a scroll that declared he was now in the service of The Fiend... who ever that was. Once he was able to sober up, Synntax was discovering he had the beginnings of 'Real Power'... and also, a deep obligation to his new Patron. I mean, his life was fast heading into a long walk off a short pier as things stood up 'til now... being a bad ass might turn things around in the long run.
*** Synntax has also discovered that alcohol no longer affects him as it once did. However, if he imbibes too much, he WILL end up in an alley bringing it all back up all the same. ***
What method of stat generation do you want? I am going to create a dark character who isn't a warlock for a bit of diversity. Still deciding on exactly what.
After joining more my signature got out of hand so I am now a proud member of the extended signature club!! :)
Oooooh, seems interesting! I'd be up for filling either side, which one do you need more?
My character (an almost finished Druid, to be a Circle of Spores at level 3) will make the two sides even. So take your pick
After joining more my signature got out of hand so I am now a proud member of the extended signature club!! :)
Everything is good But he needs to be level 1
I AM HOMICIDE I AM THE EMBODIMENT OF FIRE I AM STRENGTH AND POWER PRAISE LORD JEFF THE EVIL ROOOOOOOMMMBBBAAAAA
I AM PURE HATE! MY NAME IS BURDURXA SHADEMAKER! TREMBLE IN FEAR AT ITS MENTION!!!! PM ME THE WORD TOMATO OR I WILL SLAP YOUR FIRST BORN CHILD!!
MY VENOM SYMBIOTE: FFFFUUUUUURRRRRRRRYYYYYYYY
roll 4d6's for your ability scores please.
I AM HOMICIDE I AM THE EMBODIMENT OF FIRE I AM STRENGTH AND POWER PRAISE LORD JEFF THE EVIL ROOOOOOOMMMBBBAAAAA
I AM PURE HATE! MY NAME IS BURDURXA SHADEMAKER! TREMBLE IN FEAR AT ITS MENTION!!!! PM ME THE WORD TOMATO OR I WILL SLAP YOUR FIRST BORN CHILD!!
MY VENOM SYMBIOTE: FFFFUUUUUURRRRRRRRYYYYYYYY
with the addition of swiftgale its even so we have equal need take your pick
I AM HOMICIDE I AM THE EMBODIMENT OF FIRE I AM STRENGTH AND POWER PRAISE LORD JEFF THE EVIL ROOOOOOOMMMBBBAAAAA
I AM PURE HATE! MY NAME IS BURDURXA SHADEMAKER! TREMBLE IN FEAR AT ITS MENTION!!!! PM ME THE WORD TOMATO OR I WILL SLAP YOUR FIRST BORN CHILD!!
MY VENOM SYMBIOTE: FFFFUUUUUURRRRRRRRYYYYYYYY
am I able to use a homebrew type thing where a human was turned into a-- yk what, could you just look at this and tell me if it's fine or if I need a new character? I'm currently making the stats and character sheet for it. I also have another character if you would rather smth a tiny bit less homebrew.
"There are things in the universe that are simply and purely evil.
A warrior does not seek to understand them, or to compromise with them.
He seeks only to obliterate them."
Grand Admiral Thrawn
Wish I could play, I would only be able to play for consistent amounts of time on weekends and maybe not even then. I'm also GMT timezone, so you'd have to work around that.
I am a Star Wars nerd who is obsessed with roleplay, sci-fi, and brutal murder.
Pronouns he/him. PM me the word tomato 🍅 or the word Banana 🍌
I am an Unstrikable Warrior, as drummer dictated. Do not waste your energy in attempts to strike me, for it will fail.
I am a knight of the fallen order, an undying saviour, a defeater of tyrants and a bane of evil.
A snail robot. hmmmm. um I dont think that will work, its a little too wonky.
I AM HOMICIDE I AM THE EMBODIMENT OF FIRE I AM STRENGTH AND POWER PRAISE LORD JEFF THE EVIL ROOOOOOOMMMBBBAAAAA
I AM PURE HATE! MY NAME IS BURDURXA SHADEMAKER! TREMBLE IN FEAR AT ITS MENTION!!!! PM ME THE WORD TOMATO OR I WILL SLAP YOUR FIRST BORN CHILD!!
MY VENOM SYMBIOTE: FFFFUUUUUURRRRRRRRYYYYYYYY
Ability scores: 12 16 12 17 14 11
Yep. It is level 1, just I have planned the subclass in advance.
I am also GMT. Timezones are theoretically not an issue for PbP. It is one of the perks.
Name: Othokent
Backstory: Othokent is a lizardfolk. His tribe was a nomadic tribe which got him exploring the world. On this adventure, they came across a glade that looked like a peaceful haven. While they set up camp, mushrooms grew around, suddenly releasing spores into the air. The whole of his tribe started dying, and while he was on death's door, a figure came and spoke to him. It offered him a continued chance at life if he helped bring chaos back into the world. Chaos was something that Otho enjoyed, as it often led to death, and therefore free food so he gladly took the offer. The figure then started to teach him druidism, but with a focus on death rather than life. It was through this bond that led him to want to bring Armageddon around.
Sheet: https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/117482008/q787jo
After joining more my signature got out of hand so I am now a proud member of the extended signature club!! :)