This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
-Ability Scores: Ability scores: 11148121017
-Character Name/Pronouns: Ooboron / he, him
-Character Race & Subrace/Class & the subclass you plan to take: Loxodon / bard, College of Eloquence
-Background: Entertainer; bonus feat: actor
-Backstory: From as early as he can remember (and Loxodons have long memories), Ooboron has been an entertainer. He is an actor. He is a comedian. He is naturally gifted in music (though he prefers to give a moving speech over playing one of the instruments he's proficient in). When he's not in the spotlight, however, Ooboron is quiet, introverted and unsure. He has low self-esteem, is nervous, and would rather hide in the shadows. Ooboron doesn't really believe he's as talented as his tribe insists he is. Intellectually, he recognizes the dichotomy between his natural inclination to hide and the freedom he feels when performing, but he can't seem to inject any of his stage confidence into his everyday self. When he tries, he feels like he is playing the part of someone with confidence rather than having confidence himself, and so he shies from trying.
It was Ooboron's grandmother who convinced him to apply to Strixhaven. Always Ooboron's biggest fan and one of the few people from whom Ooboron can take a compliment, she told him it may be a way to finally prove to him how talented he truly is. Reluctantly, but hopeful, he sent off his application.
-RP Example: A vacant stage, shining lights, and an audience piqued with curiosity: These are the perfect ingredients for something spectacular ... or horrific. Standing on the top step of the stage's stairs, the sharply dressed Ooboron, his silver eyes closed, takes a deep breath. His sail-like ears quiver ever so slightly as if teased by a breeze. He's been preparing for this. So many nights, he has neglected sleep in order to make sure it is perfect — as perfect as a tribute should be. It is, in a sense, a love letter to his father, the most powerful and wise Loxodon he has ever known. Ooboron wasn't good at expressing himself, but the stage has given him an opportunity, and he is taking it — seizing it to show his father how he is seen by his family — to honor and thank him.
Taking another deep breath, the Loxodon's eyes open. They are sharp. They are full of emotion. They are no longer Ooboron's. Ooboron has been tucked away to hide. The actor steps up onto the stage, strides to its center, turns with a flourish, then, after a dramatic pause, begins his oration.
Ooboron watches from behind the eyes. He is wary. He is fearful. He is regretful. The words are wrong. The sentiment is heavy-handed. The story is meandering and bloated. He wants to scream. He wants it to end. He is ready to run from the stage. But it keeps going and going.
Finally, as the ring of the final line dies away, the Loxodon — Ooboron and yet not Ooboron — pauses again, one arm extended as if releasing something into the air above the audience. His eyes slowly close, and the applause begins. Behind the closed eyes, Ooboron feels ashamed. What he had written for his father did not honor, but mocked him. The applause is pitying. They're just being nice. He feels himself bow a proper bow. Finish with grace, even if the performance was rubbish. With another crisp turn, he exits. Coming back to himself fully as he reaches the stairs, Ooboron gasps, lurches forward, and almost throws himself down the short flight. He grasps hold of the railing and stays on his feet as he descends and hurries to find somewhere to hide and sulk.
-Character Race & Subrace/Class & the subclass you plan to take: Hill Dwarf-Wizard/Conjurer
-Background: Clan Crafter
-Backstory: Clan Fiercehammer is known for 2 things, their unwavering grumpy demeanor and their renowned skill in carpentry, & building homes. Dwal is no exception. He was raised to be a builder from an early age but there was one thing that his kin did not understand about him, his fascination with magic. He would go out of his way to put himself into a position to speak to any wizard, sorcerer, mage, and even, to the dismay of his father, elves. "Dwarves an'' Elves don't mix!" was what his Da told him more than once, especially when the rumor among the Clan was that Dwal was spending his evenings with a female elf named Dreidre. These evening visits went on for years, about the same number of years it took Dwal to finish his apprenticeship to the Guildmasters and all Dwal's kin were satisfied when Deidre finally left. "Good, now he can focus on what's important in life." was the saying among the Clansmen. What no one knew was Deirdre was teaching Dwal the one thing he desired the most, Magic! Upon finishing his apprenticeship, Dwal was given his Guild hammer and chisel and sent out into the world to work as a journeyman for the next 50 years. What his Da doesn't know is that Dwal has sent in his application to Strixhaven.
-RP Example: "All this pomp an' fanfare don't make sense." Dwal mutters to himself. He adjusts his vest for the umteenth time while waiting for his name to be called. Looking around he sees his fellow graduates, all dressed in various attire, some less than others, listening to their quiet chatter about this and that and he can't help but grumble. "A proper send-off would be full of games an' beer." he thinks to himself. A quiet longing for home overtakes him for a moment then panic sets in. He scans the audience making it is void of anyone from Clan Fiercehammer. Once the panic passes Dwal takes a breath and reflects on this moment. He had started little more than a novice and now, he is set to graduate from a place he only dreamed about. His journey had been long and frot with trials but he had made it. "Dwal Fiercehammer!" It took him a moment to realize they had called his name but with a deep breath, adjusting his vest once again, he moves past the stage curtain. A single tear slides down his cheek and disappears into his thick reddish-brown beard, being overcome by the wonder of it all. He quickly replaces this wonder with his normal scowl and stomps on out.
-Character Race & Subrace/Class & the subclass you plan to take:
Variant Human, Wizard, Necromancer
-Background:
Noble (with permission, I'd like to switch to "Witherbloom Student")
-Backstory: Due to the trauma of seeing the effects of war as a girl, Primrose has become obsessed with using the Necromantic arts for healing. So she's spent several years neglecting everything else for her studies, to try and win placement in House Witherbloom.
(More later)
Since she has virtually no chance of taking the family throne, she broke from the "marriage or convent" fate of her social class to spend her future inheritance on training as a Necromancer. She honestly thinks she can use Necromantic wizardry to duplicate necromantic healing effects. And it looks like House Witherbloom can help her do that. So she paid to have her Arcane Focus crafted from a Rod to an Umbrella (if allowed) and made sure to have fashionable clothing in Witherbloom colors.
RP example:
At the end of a dreadfully long speech, the Dean finally got around to the good part. "And now to give the Valedictorian Speech, Miss Primrose Perianth of House Witherbloom..."
Primrose, a tall, slender blond human girl swept across the stage in her green and black Witherbloom robes, the umbrella she carried everywhere tucked in her belt as if it were a sword in a scabbard. "Thank you Sir, I'm very proud to represent House Witherbloom. My graduation Cum Laude was the result of years of hard work and neglecting all else to the benefit of my studies. I stand here able to use curative magic and eager to use my knowledge of the Mystic Arts to discover the secret...of Life...ITSELF!" She pauses and blushes at the show of emotion. "That I may use to enable wizardly healing. And I hope my fellow students have gained what they sought at Strixhaven. My heart goes out to you all! Mwah!" (blows a kiss to the audience. The graduation music starts as the assembled students line up to get their degrees.
Brandon was always the special kid, the "promising one". Oh gods how he hated those terms. They didnt define him. they just showed his skills, what he had done. But see it wasnt what he had done, it was others. He was born at a time where their was nothing new. nothing to put his talents to. someone had already explored the frontier of the old world. someone had already solved all the math equations. He just copied them, see, he had a photographic memory. The school gave him information and he copied. that was the cycle over and over and over again. Nothing was exciting. Thats why he started to work out. It was hard at first, but thats why he loved it, he needed he burn. but eventually, it like everything else became easy. He had lost his lifeline his hope. why couldnt he be weak. Why couldnt he be dumb. He was suffocating, drowning. He needed something. a lifesaver. something his memory couldnt help him with. When that white letter came, with the yellow aged paper inside, he lit up. This was it. This was his calling, he just knew it. He spent days that turned into weeks, trying to convince his parents. "why give away all your good at for something youve never even tried?" "how do you know its for you? youve never tried it.". But he Just knew. he didnt know how or why. It was like some hidden part of him had awaken. It was thirsty, starving, begging for this. something no one had done before. something he could create. after all, everyones magic is different. unique. a reflection of the person, who they are. Not who other people say they want to be. Yes. This was something he had to do. he packed his bags, he read all he could. he couldnt believe this was happening. he just couldnt contain himself. Everything was a wonder, the hills, the train, even the sound was new. He had changed irreversably. Instead of just waiting for the next bit of information, he didnt know what was ahead. When he tried to cast his first spell. He couldnt. Wait, he couldnt?! YES! he tried again, smiling each time, wider and wider as he failed and failed. He couldnt do it! He was failing! It was the most exhilerating experience. He studies harder and each new spell was a hike, a mile of step by step carrying hundred pound weights. and he loved the burn.
Ability Scores: STR ( 11) DEX (15+1) CON (13+1) INT (12) WIS (12) CHAR (16+2) //+'s from racial Name: Tendilius Mondhaven Paxaramus (male) Race: Half-Elf Class: Warlock (The Fiend) Background: Sage Bonus Feat: Spell Sniper (I believe Shocking Grasp can be added via it, but will have to check) Character Sheet: https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/79075407/mBgw6F
Backstory: From a young age, Tendilius was fascinated with learning and exploring for knowledge. Where others saw a scary situation, he saw an opportunity to add a new experience to his book. Magic. History. Those were his passions. But among a simple farming town there weren't many opportunities to discuss things with other scholars at heart so he worked hard to save up his money, whether it be odd-jobs on the farm or minor sage-related duties, for the opportunity to get to Strixhaven. And at long last that opportunity had arrived.
RP Example: Tendilius looked out at the crowd and smiled. There were a lot of faces he was going to miss... and some he wouldn't. He took a glance around looking for some of the friends he'd made over the course of his years at Strixhaven, making sure to give a nod of acknowledgement to them. He waited for his name to be called and tried to imprint the details into his mind for journaling later on. When his name when finally called he felt a giddiness in his steps as he walked over, shook the chancellor's hand with a smile, and collected his diploma. All while making sure to keep his elation subdued in respect for the formality of the occasion. But inside he was looking forward to the celebrations later that day and for the journey home to let his folks know he had done it.
Name: Briar (previously called august thistle branch) (he/him)
Race: Hex blood- Druid (circle of spores)
Background: Feylost
Backstory- August Thistlewood lived a good life in the town of Willows Cradle. Or at least he thinks he did, five-year-olds aren't exactly known for their great memories, and unfortunately for August, that's when a hag decided to add one more child to their cauldron. Once some adjustments had been made of course. Fortunately, a kind dryad took pity on the newly altered child and gave them refuge from the hag's wrath, and after nearly 14 years of surviving and learning the ways of the fey, August finally managed to return home.
Only one slight issue. In the eyes of the village, August thistlewood never left. In fact the way his parents saw it, this stranger wearing their son's face was here to try and take their son again just like the “failed” attempt all those years ago. It was from this encounter that Briar decided on both his new name and purpose. He would become someone that couldn’t be forgotten who couldn't be replaced or ignored. So when his dryad guardian pointed out that Strixhaven was accepting applicants well…. Briar knew where his destiny could start to take root.
Rp moment- Briar felt his bramble heart beat faster and faster .Finally, after all this time, after all of his suffering, it was HIS turn to bloom. Yet as Briar opened his mouth to speak, to address the friends and enemies he made as he grew here…. Something stopped him. His certificate. On it his name was Briar -. Assumedly they had put the hyphen there as a placeholder, he had never given the academy a last name after all. A pretty simple mistake. A comedically easy fix. Briar nearly ripped the certificate he had struggled so hard for in two. He had not come all this way to be known as Briar HYPEN. HE HADN’T GROWN AND CULTIVATED HIMSELF HERE JUST TO BE FORGOTTEN AGA–
Briar's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of paper ripping. There was now a small tear in his certificate. His gaze slowly turned back to the crowd. "Whelp ya don’t make it this far without making a few mistakes, guess I’ll just put this one on my tab! He says as a smile plaster his face "A nice little something to remember me, nah to remember us by! One final screw-up to start things off right! Gotta set your roots down somehow!” He waved towards the laughing crowd and stepped off the stage, the smile on his face masking the feral determination in his eyes. He would root himself down in the history of the world. August's Thistlebranch may have been weeded out, but Briar....
Name: Briar (previously called august thistle branch) (he/him)
Race: Hex blood- Druid (circle of spores)
Background: Feylost
Backstory- August Thistlewood lived a good life in the town of Willows Cradle. Or at least he thinks he did, five-year-olds aren't exactly known for their great memories, and unfortunately for August, that's when a hag decided to add one more child to their cauldron. Once some adjustments had been made of course. Fortunately, a kind dryad took pity on the newly altered child and gave them refuge from the hag's wrath, and after nearly 14 years of surviving and learning the ways of the fey, August finally managed to return home.
Only one slight issue. In the eyes of the village, August thistlewood never left. In fact the way his parents saw it, this stranger wearing their son's face was here to try and take their son again just like the “failed” attempt all those years ago. It was from this encounter that Briar decided on both his new name and purpose. He would become someone that couldn’t be forgotten who couldn't be replaced or ignored. So when his dryad guardian pointed out that Strixhaven was accepting applicants well…. Briar knew where his destiny could start to take root.
Rp moment- Briar felt his bramble heart beat faster and faster .Finally, after all this time, after all of his suffering, it was HIS turn to bloom. Yet as Briar opened his mouth to speak, to address the friends and enemies he made as he grew here…. Something stopped him. His certificate. On it his name was Briar -. Assumedly they had put the hyphen there as a placeholder, he had never given the academy a last name after all. A pretty simple mistake. A comedically easy fix. Briar nearly ripped the certificate he had struggled so hard for in two. He had not come all this way to be known as Briar HYPEN. HE HADN’T GROWN AND CULTIVATED HIMSELF HERE JUST TO BE FORGOTTEN AGA–
Briar's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of paper ripping. There was now a small tear in his certificate. His gaze slowly turned back to the crowd. "Whelp ya don’t make it this far without making a few mistakes, guess I’ll just put this one on my tab! He says as a smile plaster his face "A nice little something to remember me, nah to remember us by! One final screw-up to start things off right! Gotta set your roots down somehow!” He waved towards the laughing crowd and stepped off the stage, the smile on his face masking the feral determination in his eyes. He would root himself down in the history of the world. August's Thistlebranch may have been weeded out, but Briar....
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Ability Scores: 1291310137
-Character Name/Pronouns: ‘Birch’ He/Him
-Character Race & Subrace/Class & the subclass you plan to take: Elf (High) sorcerer no idea of subclass
-Background: Outlander
-Backstory: Woke up in the forest one day with no recollection of his past, and no idea of his name. Only had his clothes, and a birch leaf in his hands, so called himself Birch.
-RP Example: walk up there confidently, but when reaching the stage, stammer as he starts to speak, start freaking out, but then at the end catch himself and start talking again with frequent intervals.
”Um hey. I’m Birch. Wait….. what am I here?” He looks down at all the people and starts to hyperventilate. Recovers himself. “Um… yeah.” Continues talking, hyperventilates some more, but keeps going until the speech is done.
‘ too much of a bio to fit here. call me Bananer for short, I’m one of the forum’s resident insane things. I’m a nongender Therian (look it up!) and also a silver dragon (not my kintype, just a me thing.) I’m a rogue and wizard, and if you want more info on me, PM me, or ask someone else. I’m well known.
-Character Race & Subrace/Class & the subclass you plan to take: Shadar-kai - Druid (Circle of Spores)
-Background: Witherbloom Student
-Backstory: Elsenia, born amidst the eerie mists of the Shadowfell, found solace in the natural world of plants and fungi, where decay and renewal danced in a delicate balance. Yet she yearned for knowledge beyond the bleak landscapes of her homeland. The tales of Strixhaven Academy, whispered among the Shadar-Kai, painted a picture of a place where magic flowed like a river, where ancient tomes held secrets waiting to be unraveled. Elsenia's hunger for understanding led her to crave the vibrant energy and scholarly environment that Strixhaven promised, believing that within its hallowed halls, she could not only expand her command over life and decay but also unearth forgotten truths about the natural world.
Driven by an insatiable curiosity and also fleeing the grip of the Raven Queen, Elsenia embarked on a journey to Strixhaven, determined to carve her own path amidst the bright minds of the academy. Her decision was driven by a longing to bridge the gap between the realms of light and darkness, to show that even within the depths of the Shadowfell, there exists a beauty worth preserving and understanding.
-RP Example: Elsenia stepped up onto the stage and stared out at the sea of faces looking up at her. This was the proudest moment of her life. As a teenage girl adrift among the dark places of the Shadowfell, she could never have imagined this moment, that she would make it so far, and yet here she was. It was all due to her hard work, her determination to make something of herself, to prove that Shadar-Kai could be more than withered villains featured in stories designed to scare children. The Shadowfell could be more than that. Her studies in Witherbloom proved that. Her experiments on the balance between life and death, renewal and decay showed that each process was so much more complicated and beautiful than most would suspect. There was beauty and hope even in death.
-Character Race & Subrace/Class & the subclass you plan to take: Variant Tiefling / divine soul sorcerer
-Background: Noble
-Backstory: When you’re the son of Baalgorath the Devourer, a prince of Avernus, and also a prophesied lord of chaos, life had its perks. Sure, your destiny was to shatter the tenants of law and bring suffering to millions of people, but you never had to wait in line for the theatre, always had dinner reservations, and, of course, could get into the most prestigious magic school without even filling out an application. Vex was the kind of kid who relished in his privilege. He wasn’t too keen on this whole lord of chaos thing, but he figured he had time to sort that out down the road. Meanwhile, he thought he’d enjoy the position of power he had while it lasted.
-RP Example: As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a fiery glow over the grand amphitheater of Strixhaven School of Magic, Vexarath Bloodmoon stood at the center of the stage, his presence commanding and his aura crackling with chaotic energy. The air buzzed with anticipation as the entire student body, faculty, and esteemed guests gathered to witness the culmination of years of study and dedication: graduation day.
Dressed in his finest robes, adorned with symbols of rebellion and defiance that seemed to pulse with dark magic, Vex surveyed the sea of faces before him with a smirk of satisfaction. This was his moment, his chance to shake the foundations of the institution that had tried to tame his wild spirit and bend him to its will.
Raising his hands to silence the murmurs of conversation, Vex spoke, his voice dripping with defiance and rebellion. "Esteemed faculty, honored guests, and fellow graduates," he began, his words cutting through the silence like a knife. "Today, we stand not on the precipice of a new chapter, but on the brink of revolution. For too long, we have been shackled by the chains of tradition and conformity, forced to adhere to the narrow-minded dictates of those who seek to control us."
The crowd stirred uneasily, unsure of what to make of Vex's inflammatory words. But he pressed on, his eyes blazing with righteous anger. "But no more," he declared, his voice rising to a crescendo. "Today, we cast off the shackles of our oppressors and embrace our true selves as agents of chaos and change. For it is only through chaos that true progress can be achieved, only through rebellion that we can forge a new path forward."
The crowd erupted into a mixture of cheers and murmurs of dissent, torn between admiration for Vex's fiery spirit and apprehension at the implications of his words. But Vex paid them no mind, his gaze fixed on the horizon, where the promise of a new world beckoned, one where the forces of chaos reigned supreme and the old order crumbled beneath their feet.
"And so, my fellow graduates," Vex concluded, his voice ringing out with conviction, "let us embrace our destiny as harbingers of chaos, as champions of rebellion, and as architects of a new world order. Together, we shall shake the foundations of reality itself and carve our names into the annals of history as the true masters of our own fate."
With a flourish of his hands and a burst of chaotic magic, Vexarath Bloodmoon stepped down from the stage, leaving behind a stunned and divided audience, unsure of what the future held but certain that it would never be the same again.
I’m going to withdraw my application
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Writer • Podcaster • Professional Gamemaster
playing Jin Wei, human (Kara-tur) way of the Four Elements Monk in the Princes of the Apocalypse
-Character Race & Subrace/Class & the subclass you plan to take: Fire Genasi, Artificer (Artillerist)
-Background: Prismari Student
-Backstory: Cindrix is certainly one of the academy's more colorful students. A prodigy from a young age, his ingenuity and curiosity were matched only by his recklessness and impulsivity. He's a genius with the physical sciences, but his lack of rigor prevented him from getting into Quandrix. Instead he's found a home among the students of of Prismari, whose intuitive approach to the physical sciences suits his personality quite well. He's an easygoing fellow with a penchant for underestimating danger.
-RP Example: Cindrix streaked across the campus, hastily tugging on a set of robes and a shirt without any singe marks in it. Today is graduation? How could he have forgotten?! The entire morning had been spent in the lab, returning once again to his project of trying to form glass that was harder than steel. Never mind that his thesis was supposed to be about sculpting with kinetic energy. He raced through the quad, ignoring the stares and titters of the other students. He scampered into the hall and scooted into line just as the dean called his name. He made a few quick adjustments to his outfit, chucked aside the soot covered gloves he'd forgotten to remove before leaving the lab, spritzed a bit of potion into his mouth to remove the smell of styxweed from his breath, and bounded up onto the stage. He flashed a smile to the bemused dean and eagerly accepted his diploma. Here it was. Countless sleepless nights (not that he slept much anyways), forgoing parties and fun (on occasion), working his fingers to the bone for five long years (plus two that he spent on that biokinetic plasma project). Finally, he was a graduate! He held it high for his friends to see and just as quickly stepped off the stage. For the moment his restless mind was transfixed by the paper before him. And then came the question he'd been putting off for some time, the question he promised he'd get around to one of these days: Now what?
-Character Race & Subrace/Class & the subclass you plan to take: Custom Lineage(half-elf, with a touch of dragon blood) Rogue, planning on Mastermind
-Background: Charlatan
-Backstory:
To say that Alvid Magistere-Lorehold does not know what he is doing is not entirely accurate. Alvid is a singularly talented individual, whose knowledge and talents in countless fields are unrivaled among his peers. In magical theory and history they are unrivaled, but when time comes for its application... Alvid is often conspicuously absent. The thing about being a distant descendant of one of the school's founders is that one saves greatly on tuition when going to the institution of their ancestor's founding, especially when your family has intentionally preserved said ancestor's last name so as to garner the greatest amount of attention. The other thing is that draconic blood definitely does not guarantee draconic powers, no matter how much you want it to, and even if your father and his father before him were great and powerful sorcerers with the shining blood of Velomachus Lorehold herself coursing through their veins, the apple has very few qualms about falling far from the arcane tree.
As such, Alvid has found herself enrolled in Lorehold College, despite not knowing a lick of magic. Now, technically, there isn't anything saying that a non-magic user can't enroll in Strixhaven. It's just heavily, heavily implied, and if you want passing grades you sure as hell better have something under your belt. So, Alvid pretends. What else could they do? So he finds himself thrust into the spotlight, popular both among the professors due to his wealth of magical knowledge accrued through theory and absolutely no practice whatsoever, and among the student body for his connections to power and influence through his family and his draconic ancestor, and because he's also just kind of a chill guy to be around. But below it all, below the sleight of hand and the thin excuses, is a person desperately holding on to an image they have no hope of maintaining.
-RP Example:
Alvid strolls on stage in an easy, practiced motion, staff tapping against the floor with each step. He grins at the group of his peers in the front row, basking for a second in their cheers, before proceeding to the Dean of Lorehold. They fix the Dean with an earnest, heartfelt smile before taking their diploma. A shake of the hand, and it's done.
A single bead of sweat rolls down his cheek.
She moves to leave the stage, before the cheer goes up. Speech, speech, speech! Inwardly, she cringes. Outwardly, she smiles, a practiced thing flashed sixty different ways in front of the mirror each morning, poked at, prodded, perfected. They take up position on center stage, and clear their throat. The words that will follow will be simple. Concise. Accurate. There will be no lie in them, though the falsities they contain are many. Half-truths. Omissions. The words soon to erupt from the throat of Alvid Magistere-Lorehold are exactly what everyone expects of him. What else could he give them? Were he to speak his truth, he would be ostracized, or worse, expelled.
Except.
The deed is done. The hand has been shaken, the diploma signed and taken. Alvid's heart skips a beat, and a few more after, as she comes to the sudden realization, hitting harder than a roc dive-bombing at terminal velocity. He's done it. A new grin spreads across their face, not one seen before. It's natural. Real. Realer than anything he's ever put out these past few years. He opens his mouth to speak, and the words that do come out are something entirely unplanned.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, neithers, boths, in-betweens, professors and students, one and all. What I'm about to say may surprise you..."
-Ability Scores: Ability scores: 11 14 8 12 10 17
-Character Name/Pronouns: Ooboron / he, him
-Character Race & Subrace/Class & the subclass you plan to take: Loxodon / bard, College of Eloquence
-Background: Entertainer; bonus feat: actor
-Backstory: From as early as he can remember (and Loxodons have long memories), Ooboron has been an entertainer. He is an actor. He is a comedian. He is naturally gifted in music (though he prefers to give a moving speech over playing one of the instruments he's proficient in). When he's not in the spotlight, however, Ooboron is quiet, introverted and unsure. He has low self-esteem, is nervous, and would rather hide in the shadows. Ooboron doesn't really believe he's as talented as his tribe insists he is. Intellectually, he recognizes the dichotomy between his natural inclination to hide and the freedom he feels when performing, but he can't seem to inject any of his stage confidence into his everyday self. When he tries, he feels like he is playing the part of someone with confidence rather than having confidence himself, and so he shies from trying.
It was Ooboron's grandmother who convinced him to apply to Strixhaven. Always Ooboron's biggest fan and one of the few people from whom Ooboron can take a compliment, she told him it may be a way to finally prove to him how talented he truly is. Reluctantly, but hopeful, he sent off his application.
-RP Example: A vacant stage, shining lights, and an audience piqued with curiosity: These are the perfect ingredients for something spectacular ... or horrific. Standing on the top step of the stage's stairs, the sharply dressed Ooboron, his silver eyes closed, takes a deep breath. His sail-like ears quiver ever so slightly as if teased by a breeze. He's been preparing for this. So many nights, he has neglected sleep in order to make sure it is perfect — as perfect as a tribute should be. It is, in a sense, a love letter to his father, the most powerful and wise Loxodon he has ever known. Ooboron wasn't good at expressing himself, but the stage has given him an opportunity, and he is taking it — seizing it to show his father how he is seen by his family — to honor and thank him.
Taking another deep breath, the Loxodon's eyes open. They are sharp. They are full of emotion. They are no longer Ooboron's. Ooboron has been tucked away to hide. The actor steps up onto the stage, strides to its center, turns with a flourish, then, after a dramatic pause, begins his oration.
Ooboron watches from behind the eyes. He is wary. He is fearful. He is regretful. The words are wrong. The sentiment is heavy-handed. The story is meandering and bloated. He wants to scream. He wants it to end. He is ready to run from the stage. But it keeps going and going.
Finally, as the ring of the final line dies away, the Loxodon — Ooboron and yet not Ooboron — pauses again, one arm extended as if releasing something into the air above the audience. His eyes slowly close, and the applause begins. Behind the closed eyes, Ooboron feels ashamed. What he had written for his father did not honor, but mocked him. The applause is pitying. They're just being nice. He feels himself bow a proper bow. Finish with grace, even if the performance was rubbish. With another crisp turn, he exits. Coming back to himself fully as he reaches the stairs, Ooboron gasps, lurches forward, and almost throws himself down the short flight. He grasps hold of the railing and stays on his feet as he descends and hurries to find somewhere to hide and sulk.
-Ability Scores: (point buy) str: 12 dex: 14 con: 14 int: 14 wis: 12 chr: 10
-Character Name/Pronouns: Dwal Fiercehammer
-Character Race & Subrace/Class & the subclass you plan to take: Hill Dwarf-Wizard/Conjurer
-Background: Clan Crafter
-Backstory: Clan Fiercehammer is known for 2 things, their unwavering grumpy demeanor and their renowned skill in carpentry, & building homes. Dwal is no exception. He was raised to be a builder from an early age but there was one thing that his kin did not understand about him, his fascination with magic. He would go out of his way to put himself into a position to speak to any wizard, sorcerer, mage, and even, to the dismay of his father, elves. "Dwarves an'' Elves don't mix!" was what his Da told him more than once, especially when the rumor among the Clan was that Dwal was spending his evenings with a female elf named Dreidre. These evening visits went on for years, about the same number of years it took Dwal to finish his apprenticeship to the Guildmasters and all Dwal's kin were satisfied when Deidre finally left. "Good, now he can focus on what's important in life." was the saying among the Clansmen.
What no one knew was Deirdre was teaching Dwal the one thing he desired the most, Magic!
Upon finishing his apprenticeship, Dwal was given his Guild hammer and chisel and sent out into the world to work as a journeyman for the next 50 years. What his Da doesn't know is that Dwal has sent in his application to Strixhaven.
-RP Example: "All this pomp an' fanfare don't make sense." Dwal mutters to himself. He adjusts his vest for the umteenth time while waiting for his name to be called. Looking around he sees his fellow graduates, all dressed in various attire, some less than others, listening to their quiet chatter about this and that and he can't help but grumble.
"A proper send-off would be full of games an' beer." he thinks to himself. A quiet longing for home overtakes him for a moment then panic sets in. He scans the audience making it is void of anyone from Clan Fiercehammer.
Once the panic passes Dwal takes a breath and reflects on this moment. He had started little more than a novice and now, he is set to graduate from a place he only dreamed about. His journey had been long and frot with trials but he had made it.
"Dwal Fiercehammer!"
It took him a moment to realize they had called his name but with a deep breath, adjusting his vest once again, he moves past the stage curtain.
A single tear slides down his cheek and disappears into his thick reddish-brown beard, being overcome by the wonder of it all. He quickly replaces this wonder with his normal scowl and stomps on out.
Since she has virtually no chance of taking the family throne, she broke from the "marriage or convent" fate of her social class to spend her future inheritance on training as a Necromancer. She honestly thinks she can use Necromantic wizardry to duplicate necromantic healing effects. And it looks like House Witherbloom can help her do that. So she paid to have her Arcane Focus crafted from a Rod to an Umbrella (if allowed) and made sure to have fashionable clothing in Witherbloom colors.
RP example:
At the end of a dreadfully long speech, the Dean finally got around to the good part. "And now to give the Valedictorian Speech, Miss Primrose Perianth of House Witherbloom..."
Primrose, a tall, slender blond human girl swept across the stage in her green and black Witherbloom robes, the umbrella she carried everywhere tucked in her belt as if it were a sword in a scabbard. "Thank you Sir, I'm very proud to represent House Witherbloom. My graduation Cum Laude was the result of years of hard work and neglecting all else to the benefit of my studies. I stand here able to use curative magic and eager to use my knowledge of the Mystic Arts to discover the secret...of Life...ITSELF!" She pauses and blushes at the show of emotion. "That I may use to enable wizardly healing. And I hope my fellow students have gained what they sought at Strixhaven. My heart goes out to you all! Mwah!" (blows a kiss to the audience. The graduation music starts as the assembled students line up to get their degrees.
Hey btw something came up I’m gonna need to back out of this campaign
I'll reroll:
Ability scores: 11 14 11 13 11 9
Brandon was always the special kid, the "promising one". Oh gods how he hated those terms. They didnt define him. they just showed his skills, what he had done. But see it wasnt what he had done, it was others. He was born at a time where their was nothing new. nothing to put his talents to. someone had already explored the frontier of the old world. someone had already solved all the math equations. He just copied them, see, he had a photographic memory. The school gave him information and he copied. that was the cycle over and over and over again. Nothing was exciting. Thats why he started to work out. It was hard at first, but thats why he loved it, he needed he burn. but eventually, it like everything else became easy. He had lost his lifeline his hope. why couldnt he be weak. Why couldnt he be dumb. He was suffocating, drowning. He needed something. a lifesaver. something his memory couldnt help him with. When that white letter came, with the yellow aged paper inside, he lit up. This was it. This was his calling, he just knew it. He spent days that turned into weeks, trying to convince his parents. "why give away all your good at for something youve never even tried?" "how do you know its for you? youve never tried it.". But he Just knew. he didnt know how or why. It was like some hidden part of him had awaken. It was thirsty, starving, begging for this. something no one had done before. something he could create. after all, everyones magic is different. unique. a reflection of the person, who they are. Not who other people say they want to be. Yes. This was something he had to do. he packed his bags, he read all he could. he couldnt believe this was happening. he just couldnt contain himself. Everything was a wonder, the hills, the train, even the sound was new. He had changed irreversably. Instead of just waiting for the next bit of information, he didnt know what was ahead. When he tried to cast his first spell. He couldnt. Wait, he couldnt?! YES! he tried again, smiling each time, wider and wider as he failed and failed. He couldnt do it! He was failing! It was the most exhilerating experience. He studies harder and each new spell was a hike, a mile of step by step carrying hundred pound weights. and he loved the burn.
Ability scores Str:15 Cha:10 Int:17 Wis:15 Dex:13 Con: 10
Name: Brandon Jackson
Race: variant human (might edit to reflect ability score changes havent made the character sheet yet)
Class: wizard evocation/ barbarian (fire specialty)
Edit: https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/118838784 <---- character sheet
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
Are you still recruiting for this game?
Real Life Healbot
Application withdrawn. Best of luck and fun to the selected party.
Ability Scores: STR ( 11) DEX (15+1) CON (13+1) INT (12) WIS (12) CHAR (16+2) //+'s from racial
Name: Tendilius Mondhaven Paxaramus (male)
Race: Half-Elf
Class: Warlock (The Fiend)
Background: Sage
Bonus Feat: Spell Sniper (I believe Shocking Grasp can be added via it, but will have to check)
Character Sheet: https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/79075407/mBgw6F
Backstory: From a young age, Tendilius was fascinated with learning and exploring for knowledge. Where others saw a scary situation, he saw an opportunity to add a new experience to his book. Magic. History. Those were his passions. But among a simple farming town there weren't many opportunities to discuss things with other scholars at heart so he worked hard to save up his money, whether it be odd-jobs on the farm or minor sage-related duties, for the opportunity to get to Strixhaven. And at long last that opportunity had arrived.
RP Example: Tendilius looked out at the crowd and smiled. There were a lot of faces he was going to miss... and some he wouldn't. He took a glance around looking for some of the friends he'd made over the course of his years at Strixhaven, making sure to give a nod of acknowledgement to them. He waited for his name to be called and tried to imprint the details into his mind for journaling later on. When his name when finally called he felt a giddiness in his steps as he walked over, shook the chancellor's hand with a smile, and collected his diploma. All while making sure to keep his elation subdued in respect for the formality of the occasion. But inside he was looking forward to the celebrations later that day and for the journey home to let his folks know he had done it.
This is a signature. It was a simple signature. But it has been upgraded.
Bel, Aarakocra Hunter Ranger, Friend Campaign
Screechirk, Aarakocra Light Cleric, Wages of Vice
Darath, Goliath Battlemaster, Into the Overlap
Draíocht, Wood Elf Moon Druid, Kholias
Eggo Lass, Drow GOOlock, 100 Dungeons
Drako, Dragonborn Tempest Cleric, Dragon of Icespire Peak
Phait, Mountain Dwarf Wild Magic Sorcerer, Shadowglass
Get rickrolled here. Listen to awesome music here. (selection 27, 4/23/24, One Voice)
This sounds like a great time!
Ability scores: 14 16 8 16 15 14
Name: Briar (previously called august thistle branch) (he/him)
Race: Hex blood- Druid (circle of spores)
Background: Feylost
Backstory- August Thistlewood lived a good life in the town of Willows Cradle. Or at least he thinks he did, five-year-olds aren't exactly known for their great memories, and unfortunately for August, that's when a hag decided to add one more child to their cauldron. Once some adjustments had been made of course. Fortunately, a kind dryad took pity on the newly altered child and gave them refuge from the hag's wrath, and after nearly 14 years of surviving and learning the ways of the fey, August finally managed to return home.
Only one slight issue. In the eyes of the village, August thistlewood never left. In fact the way his parents saw it, this stranger wearing their son's face was here to try and take their son again just like the “failed” attempt all those years ago. It was from this encounter that Briar decided on both his new name and purpose. He would become someone that couldn’t be forgotten who couldn't be replaced or ignored. So when his dryad guardian pointed out that Strixhaven was accepting applicants well…. Briar knew where his destiny could start to take root.
Rp moment- Briar felt his bramble heart beat faster and faster .Finally, after all this time, after all of his suffering, it was HIS turn to bloom. Yet as Briar opened his mouth to speak, to address the friends and enemies he made as he grew here…. Something stopped him. His certificate. On it his name was Briar -. Assumedly they had put the hyphen there as a placeholder, he had never given the academy a last name after all. A pretty simple mistake. A comedically easy fix. Briar nearly ripped the certificate he had struggled so hard for in two. He had not come all this way to be known as Briar HYPEN. HE HADN’T GROWN AND CULTIVATED HIMSELF HERE JUST TO BE FORGOTTEN AGA–
Briar's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of paper ripping. There was now a small tear in his certificate. His gaze slowly turned back to the crowd. "Whelp ya don’t make it this far without making a few mistakes, guess I’ll just put this one on my tab! He says as a smile plaster his face "A nice little something to remember me, nah to remember us by! One final screw-up to start things off right! Gotta set your roots down somehow!” He waved towards the laughing crowd and stepped off the stage, the smile on his face masking the feral determination in his eyes. He would root himself down in the history of the world. August's Thistlebranch may have been weeded out, but Briar....
Briar was here to stay.
Yes. As stated in the post, recruitment will stay open till FEBRUARY 21ST
Hi, I'm Raccoon_Master, The Rocket Raccoon/Trashcan Tactician (as appointed by Drummer). Pronouns They/Them/Theirs.
My Characters: Brormin the Crusher; Discovery the Keeper; Thea the Scoundrel; Jorvir the Weaver; Threlan, the Speaker; Zolya the Inspired; Penley the Devourer;
DMing: Dark God's Dread; Raccoon's Strixhaven, Dungeon of The Dead Mage
Join the Anything but the OGL 2.0 Thread!
EXTENDED SIGNATUR
Link to sheet:https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/118878157
Free feat: war caster
Ability Scores: 12 9 13 10 13 7
-Character Name/Pronouns: ‘Birch’ He/Him
-Character Race & Subrace/Class & the subclass you plan to take: Elf (High) sorcerer no idea of subclass
-Background: Outlander
-Backstory: Woke up in the forest one day with no recollection of his past, and no idea of his name. Only had his clothes, and a birch leaf in his hands, so called himself Birch.
-RP Example: walk up there confidently, but when reaching the stage, stammer as he starts to speak, start freaking out, but then at the end catch himself and start talking again with frequent intervals.
”Um hey. I’m Birch. Wait….. what am I here?” He looks down at all the people and starts to hyperventilate. Recovers himself. “Um… yeah.” Continues talking, hyperventilates some more, but keeps going until the speech is done.
‘ too much of a bio to fit here. call me Bananer for short, I’m one of the forum’s resident insane things. I’m a nongender Therian (look it up!) and also a silver dragon (not my kintype, just a me thing.) I’m a rogue and wizard, and if you want more info on me, PM me, or ask someone else. I’m well known.
PM ME THE WORD BANANA! PRAISE JEFF! Check out my support thread! https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/off-topic/adohands-kitchen/195676-just-a-support-thread
Ability scores: 15 15 14 15 13 10
Real Life Healbot
Ability scores: 12 15 14 11 16 14
Characters: Bryony Alderleaf - Lvl. 3 Halfling Rogue (Phandelver and Below: The Shattered Obelisk) ♦ Evelyn Drake - Lvl. 3 Human Wizard (Rule of Change) ♦ Aranea Kendrick - Lvl. 4 Human Warlock (Where the Cold Winds Blow) ♦ Elsenia Vesper - Lvl. 2 Shadar-kai Druid (Strixhaven)
DMing: Curse of Strahd
-Character Name/Pronouns: Elsenia Vesper (she/her)
-Character Race & Subrace/Class & the subclass you plan to take: Shadar-kai - Druid (Circle of Spores)
-Background: Witherbloom Student
-Backstory: Elsenia, born amidst the eerie mists of the Shadowfell, found solace in the natural world of plants and fungi, where decay and renewal danced in a delicate balance. Yet she yearned for knowledge beyond the bleak landscapes of her homeland. The tales of Strixhaven Academy, whispered among the Shadar-Kai, painted a picture of a place where magic flowed like a river, where ancient tomes held secrets waiting to be unraveled. Elsenia's hunger for understanding led her to crave the vibrant energy and scholarly environment that Strixhaven promised, believing that within its hallowed halls, she could not only expand her command over life and decay but also unearth forgotten truths about the natural world.
Driven by an insatiable curiosity and also fleeing the grip of the Raven Queen, Elsenia embarked on a journey to Strixhaven, determined to carve her own path amidst the bright minds of the academy. Her decision was driven by a longing to bridge the gap between the realms of light and darkness, to show that even within the depths of the Shadowfell, there exists a beauty worth preserving and understanding.
-RP Example: Elsenia stepped up onto the stage and stared out at the sea of faces looking up at her. This was the proudest moment of her life. As a teenage girl adrift among the dark places of the Shadowfell, she could never have imagined this moment, that she would make it so far, and yet here she was. It was all due to her hard work, her determination to make something of herself, to prove that Shadar-Kai could be more than withered villains featured in stories designed to scare children. The Shadowfell could be more than that. Her studies in Witherbloom proved that. Her experiments on the balance between life and death, renewal and decay showed that each process was so much more complicated and beautiful than most would suspect. There was beauty and hope even in death.
Characters: Bryony Alderleaf - Lvl. 3 Halfling Rogue (Phandelver and Below: The Shattered Obelisk) ♦ Evelyn Drake - Lvl. 3 Human Wizard (Rule of Change) ♦ Aranea Kendrick - Lvl. 4 Human Warlock (Where the Cold Winds Blow) ♦ Elsenia Vesper - Lvl. 2 Shadar-kai Druid (Strixhaven)
DMing: Curse of Strahd
I’m going to withdraw my application
Writer • Podcaster • Professional Gamemaster
playing Jin Wei, human (Kara-tur) way of the Four Elements Monk in the Princes of the Apocalypse
Ability scores: 15 12 12 15 12 12
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
-Ability Scores: STR 13 DEX 15 CON 17 INT 16 WIS 10 CHA 14
-Character Name/Pronouns: Cindrix Angipati, he/him
-Character Race & Subrace/Class & the subclass you plan to take: Fire Genasi, Artificer (Artillerist)
-Background: Prismari Student
-Backstory: Cindrix is certainly one of the academy's more colorful students. A prodigy from a young age, his ingenuity and curiosity were matched only by his recklessness and impulsivity. He's a genius with the physical sciences, but his lack of rigor prevented him from getting into Quandrix. Instead he's found a home among the students of of Prismari, whose intuitive approach to the physical sciences suits his personality quite well. He's an easygoing fellow with a penchant for underestimating danger.
-RP Example: Cindrix streaked across the campus, hastily tugging on a set of robes and a shirt without any singe marks in it. Today is graduation? How could he have forgotten?! The entire morning had been spent in the lab, returning once again to his project of trying to form glass that was harder than steel. Never mind that his thesis was supposed to be about sculpting with kinetic energy. He raced through the quad, ignoring the stares and titters of the other students. He scampered into the hall and scooted into line just as the dean called his name. He made a few quick adjustments to his outfit, chucked aside the soot covered gloves he'd forgotten to remove before leaving the lab, spritzed a bit of potion into his mouth to remove the smell of styxweed from his breath, and bounded up onto the stage. He flashed a smile to the bemused dean and eagerly accepted his diploma. Here it was. Countless sleepless nights (not that he slept much anyways), forgoing parties and fun (on occasion), working his fingers to the bone for five long years (plus two that he spent on that biokinetic plasma project). Finally, he was a graduate! He held it high for his friends to see and just as quickly stepped off the stage. For the moment his restless mind was transfixed by the paper before him. And then came the question he'd been putting off for some time, the question he promised he'd get around to one of these days: Now what?
Real Life Healbot
-Ability Scores: 14 12 14 17 16 16
-Character Name/Pronouns: Alvid Magistere-Lorehold (he/she/they)
-Character Race & Subrace/Class & the subclass you plan to take: Custom Lineage(half-elf, with a touch of dragon blood) Rogue, planning on Mastermind
-Background: Charlatan
-Backstory:
To say that Alvid Magistere-Lorehold does not know what he is doing is not entirely accurate. Alvid is a singularly talented individual, whose knowledge and talents in countless fields are unrivaled among his peers. In magical theory and history they are unrivaled, but when time comes for its application... Alvid is often conspicuously absent. The thing about being a distant descendant of one of the school's founders is that one saves greatly on tuition when going to the institution of their ancestor's founding, especially when your family has intentionally preserved said ancestor's last name so as to garner the greatest amount of attention. The other thing is that draconic blood definitely does not guarantee draconic powers, no matter how much you want it to, and even if your father and his father before him were great and powerful sorcerers with the shining blood of Velomachus Lorehold herself coursing through their veins, the apple has very few qualms about falling far from the arcane tree.
As such, Alvid has found herself enrolled in Lorehold College, despite not knowing a lick of magic. Now, technically, there isn't anything saying that a non-magic user can't enroll in Strixhaven. It's just heavily, heavily implied, and if you want passing grades you sure as hell better have something under your belt. So, Alvid pretends. What else could they do? So he finds himself thrust into the spotlight, popular both among the professors due to his wealth of magical knowledge accrued through theory and absolutely no practice whatsoever, and among the student body for his connections to power and influence through his family and his draconic ancestor, and because he's also just kind of a chill guy to be around. But below it all, below the sleight of hand and the thin excuses, is a person desperately holding on to an image they have no hope of maintaining.
-RP Example:
Alvid strolls on stage in an easy, practiced motion, staff tapping against the floor with each step. He grins at the group of his peers in the front row, basking for a second in their cheers, before proceeding to the Dean of Lorehold. They fix the Dean with an earnest, heartfelt smile before taking their diploma. A shake of the hand, and it's done.
A single bead of sweat rolls down his cheek.
She moves to leave the stage, before the cheer goes up. Speech, speech, speech! Inwardly, she cringes. Outwardly, she smiles, a practiced thing flashed sixty different ways in front of the mirror each morning, poked at, prodded, perfected. They take up position on center stage, and clear their throat. The words that will follow will be simple. Concise. Accurate. There will be no lie in them, though the falsities they contain are many. Half-truths. Omissions. The words soon to erupt from the throat of Alvid Magistere-Lorehold are exactly what everyone expects of him. What else could he give them? Were he to speak his truth, he would be ostracized, or worse, expelled.
Except.
The deed is done. The hand has been shaken, the diploma signed and taken. Alvid's heart skips a beat, and a few more after, as she comes to the sudden realization, hitting harder than a roc dive-bombing at terminal velocity. He's done it. A new grin spreads across their face, not one seen before. It's natural. Real. Realer than anything he's ever put out these past few years. He opens his mouth to speak, and the words that do come out are something entirely unplanned.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, neithers, boths, in-betweens, professors and students, one and all. What I'm about to say may surprise you..."
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
So many great applications! It's so hard to choose! All of y'all are so creative!
Hi, I'm Raccoon_Master, The Rocket Raccoon/Trashcan Tactician (as appointed by Drummer). Pronouns They/Them/Theirs.
My Characters: Brormin the Crusher; Discovery the Keeper; Thea the Scoundrel; Jorvir the Weaver; Threlan, the Speaker; Zolya the Inspired; Penley the Devourer;
DMing: Dark God's Dread; Raccoon's Strixhaven, Dungeon of The Dead Mage
Join the Anything but the OGL 2.0 Thread!
EXTENDED SIGNATUR