I have a Level 1 Hill Dwarf Fighter that I would like to submit for this adventure. Char Sheet
Brom is a seasoned warrior. He spent the majority of his life in service to his clan Ironshield. When peace descended upon his people and there were no wars, Brom ventured out for battle. He found himself venturing from city to city hiring himself out as a caravan guard to protect cargo from highwaymen.
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Tarkin | Human | Fighter 1 -> Rise of the Rough Riders
Kuno| Half Elf male | Rogue 2 Wielding a Rapier, dagger and leather armor.
It sounds like you've already made your choice, but sure, i'll be more specific =P
Crispy was nearly dying in the alleys of Waterdeep at the age of 15. She was found by the Commander of a special forces group who took her in and pushed her through basic training until she reached 18. The force she was on would remain undisclosed, for it was a secret military organization that took on powerful and supernatural threats the city's regular police force couldn't or wouldn't tackle. The problem was, Crispy was, and still is, a dirty cop. She found joy and pleasure in abusing her power. Born from deep within her programming, she would extort, beat up, bribe, and constantly act above the law with her partner, and one day that got her in a whole mess of trouble. When they decided to push around the wrong crime boss, Crispy got her partner and his family killed, lost her job, and was exiled from Waterdeep and stripped of her accolades. She wanders the land to this day trying to cope with her problems, deal with her demons inside, and try and do the right thing.
As far as motivation for coming to the mining town. Can we say his family has been there before to steal things. He is on his way back to return the golden bust back to the shop owner that his family swindled long ago.
Sylelor lied face down on the edge of a cliff overlooking the path towards the village of Sheercleft. As the caravan passed by, Syl’s eyes moved around looking at all the surrounding areas. Sheercleft could not afford to lose another caravan. Out of the corner of Syl’s eye, he saw a masked human hiding behind a rock.
“Careful,” He yelled as a signal to the leader of the caravan as he shot an arrow at the bandit.
Syl then quickly stood up to begin chasing the bandit. He hated doing this but he needed the money for his son’s education as well as he cared for the wellbeing of others.
"Git yer bloody arse up. We 'ave to git to tha mine Erik!" Hurrig rolls out of his bed, yelling at his bunkmate. "We've slept a whole two hours past roll call!" Hurrig is stout in size, even for a dwarf, his fiery red hair loose from its braids. He rushes to put on his armor and mining gear. "Erik!! Let's go!" Hurrig runs over to Erik's bed, the tall dark skinned human drunkenly passed out in bed. "Ah screw 'im." He packs up his stuff and heads out.
He walks out of the hutch into the bright sunlight, squinting his eyes. "Ahh shite, tha Foreman is gonna kill me. I can't afford to lose this job."He runs off quickly towards the foreman's office, quickly throwing his hair into a quick top knot. and tossing his helmet on over it. On the way to the office, he says a quick prayer to Moradin and his holy symbol glows a little. When he reaches the office, with a heavy hand, and a lump in his throat he knocks on the door with three loud thumps. A voice calls from the inside, "Come in." As Hurrig opens the door, the voice yells, "I swear to Moradin, Hurrig, you better have a good excuse!" Hurrig steps in the office with his head down and the door slams shut behind him.
Also I do like the idea of him joining and running off after realizing its not much of a life for him.
Personality: Friendly and jovial if a bit guarded from the high degree of mistrust and suspicion she has encountered since the loss of her tribe. She has a competitive streak and often engages others in competitions of various types. Without realizing it, Valaith is searching for her next "clan", a place where she can be accepted and therefore is overcompensating the mistrust with a high degree of benevolence. While raging her compassion disappears and she becomes as cold and calculating as the blizzards of her homeland to the south.
Background: Valaith was always competitive with her older brother (Lakin) as they both constantly sought to outdo the other in nearly all aspects of their lives, but yet they were both fiercely protective of each other and their family. Her brother was stronger and smarter, but Valaith had more endurance and she could often outlast him in challenges that involved stamina or tests of constitution. She earned her nickname of "Rimehand" during one such competition in which she outlasted all others to see who could hold their bare fists out of a tent into a raging ice storm, when she finally drew her hand back through it was covered in hoarfrost and thus she earned her nickname.
One evening when the tribe was settling in and pitching camp in, Lakin boasted to Valaith of the caribou he had hunted for the tribe during their last encampment and challenged her to outdo his accomplishment. Never being one to be outdone, Valaith gathered her weapons and joined the hunting band as they departed. Several days into the hunt, the small group encountered a band of orcs which turned out to be a scouting party for the flanks an of orcish warband that was on the move and heading towards Valaith's camp. Given that the vanguard was likely already ahead of the hunting party, Valaith and the other goliaths immediately set out at a breakneck, dangerous pace through the mountain passes. Attrition through exhaustion or obstacles dwindled the hunting party until just Valaith remained as she raced as quickly as her legs could carry her, staggering the last few miles only due to her impressive constitution. So tired she was, that she did not realize anything was amiss as she collapsed just outside of the encampment, dragging herself and calling out for the scouts. When she received no response, she willed herself to her feet and stumbled forward into the ruins of the Kalukavi tribe. While she had beaten the orcish warband, another threat had come... She found the bodies of her people scattered among several frost giant corpses, including her family crushed beneath their enemy even in victory. She gathered her brother's hammer and what little supplies she could find before fleeing through the narrow, northern passages where the orcs could not follow in large number.
The journey north alone was dangerous and terribly lonely as Valaith nursed an ever-growing fury that seemed to match the relentlessness of a raging blizzard and she found that could draw upon that strength. She continued north through the dwarven territories where she found little acceptance and much scorn, despite her circumstances. She eventually found at least a temporary home in the mining town of Sheercleft and was able to find some steady income selling out her warrior skill set as a guard for the town.
Nights in Sheercleft brought a bitter wind howling through the mountains that locked most souls in their homes. In spite of this, many braved momentary cold for the warmth of the tavern fire after a day in the mines. In the center of the spacious room stood a dwarf roaming about the tables with a mug in hand. Bründir didn't have a drop of blood related to the town, but he was everyone's brother. To some, he shared games and jokes, others he led in a song, and a few he simply sat and chatted for a while over a drink and a pipe.
On this night, the main door opened to reveal a troupe of dwarves from the nearby mountain hold. Where others gave nods of recognition and a casual "Good evening", Bründir raced across the room to greet them.
"Stone-brother Dain! How're ye and yer boys? Come fer a drink or three, please. Alvus! A round fer friends of Sheercleft, on me!" The group of dwarves were traders that brought food and provisions from their nearby city in exchange for various supplies and the ore mined in the town. Bründir was no merchant, but he saw value in trade and the traders as friends to every city they visited.
However Dain, the leader of the small band, did not seem to have a heart for social pleasure, "Bründir, ah'm sorry, lad. We've come on business an' must be off. Yer mayor's struck a deal with th' elves, we won' be tradin' with Steelcleft fer a while." The older dwarf seemed hesrtbroken by this news, as though it pained him personally as well as professionally.
Bründir seemed struck by the news and a few concerned heads turned toward the dwarves. Shaking off the gloom, Bründir brought a faint smile back, "Dain, please, stay until tomorrow. We'll talk to the mayor about this and resolve the matter. 'Til and after then, ye're still friends of Sheercleft." Dain seemed mildly comforted and agreed, sharing a drink with the folk of Sheercleft for the night.
The following morning, Bründir and Dain approached the mayor at the town hall. A guard tried to block them until Bründir made a promise of visiting objects on bodily openings. The mayor's office was roomy with a large desk at one end and several bookshelves nearby. A single visitor sat opposite from the mayoral seat. At Bründir's interruption, attention turned and the dwarves saw the visitor was an elf, elaborately dressed and tattooed as those of the nearby forest. "Sir, if we may 'ave a minute - nay, if we all may 'ave a minute?"
Seeing Dain, the mayor quickly surmised the reason for intrusion and cut it off, "Bründir, the matter is settled. A better offer has been made by Elenwyr's people."
"Sir, please, we've not come to disturb yer peace. We only want to keep friends an' allies." Turning to the elven ambassador, Bründir approaches the desk and offers Dain a seat (though not before receiving the mayor's consent). "Sir, th' mountain hold has always been a close friend. Who's it that helped build th' mine? Who took in th' sick an' cold when their homes could'na keep winter at bay?"
The ambassador quickly cut off the dwarf's plea, "Do you suggest that their trade is more important than our troubles? Our lives? We are beset by brigands on the border of our forest! Our hunters refuse to leave without armed escort and our warriors are to spread and under-armed to defend everywhere they are needed."
Bründir suddenly took a somber tone, "Ambassador, please don' think we don' care fer ye'er plight. My heart breaks fer ye an' yer people. But can y'all not see a better way? We of Sheercleft are not soldiers, but we're strong and loyal to friends. Dain's people 'ave worked foundry and forge for ages. If ye'll consider it, can we all not come together to push these bastards out? Mayor, if they're on the border, wha's stoppin' them from starvin' the passes?"
A long, tense moment passes as the leaders and representatives stare across the desk to each other. The tension was unbearable and Bründir hastily added, "Give me th' brave souls, an' give them tools t'fight, an' Ill' lead th' charge me'self."
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Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
I'm tempted to increase the party size, but in PbP that can really slow things down.
@CraigTJones I like Archie a lot, although a golden bust is a bit ostentatious for Sheercleft. Maybe his family stole something valuable, but a bit more mundane? Do you agree that they would have come up from Eldren forest?
@decjimmy I'm referring to this. Have you seen that before?
@CrispyDM Yeah... I do like the character, but she isn't really suited to the tone of this adventure. Sorry.
@CrispyDM & Charwoman_Gene & Happy_Potato & Unseenhybrid Thanks for your offerings, but this is really filling up and I think I have a rogue and a tank.
@Lyrel & Agonzo & Barlow ...that's awesome. You guys are all but in. At this rate I may really have to increase the party size.
Alone Valaith, Hurrig, Bründir, Sylelor and Archie would make a good party, but I want to wait on at least Thurston and Vark... this is really hard. Great characters, all of you!
The gold bust might have been a little much, but whatever ornate decoration with sentimental/real value. Yeah, I picture the family kind of like gypsies. Travel to one place steal from it. Go to the next place and sell all the stuff while stealing new things etc. Archie has traveled a bit.
Up to you and how you want to build the world: maybe he has some places he knows he wants to make up for.... maybe some people recognize him and gets into some hot water.
Thanks @Stormchaser, I'm going to flesh out a full backstory at some point today! Very Excited to get started. Also is someone going to have sharing on with ddb?
Personality: She is a generally upbeat attitude towards others. The only moment I show annoyance is when others touch my puppet. She has a love of odd items, often attempting to collect those items if no one else claims them, or if they are of no particular use to anyone. When it comes to fighting, she tends to act according to what she thinks would get her to walk away alive, rather than what she can do to defeat my opponent. That is, only if she doesn't think she can prevail. She only resorts to survival instincts when she's in a pinch. That isn't to say that she would be cowardly enough to strike deals with intelligent enemies in order to save herself.
Background: As a child, Freya had always admired travelers. She loved the different types of clothing they wore, she liked the stories that some of them would tell the her and the other children, and she especially loved the foreign items that they brought with them. She would gaze at them in awe as their foreign beauty amazed her. She would dream of Travelling, and seeing all those foreign objects up close. Of course, her interest in collecting oddities did not entirely stem from this. It was also a result from her younger sister's interest in foreign items. They would often attempt to create their own strange items, similar to the ones travelers show to them. Out of all their attempts, however, only one item they crafted gave them the same interest they had toward the real items. It was a doll, one unlike anything they thought they could make. This doll was the only toy they kept as they grew. Freya eventually became a traveller, though not because she wanted to. Her sister had fallen ill with a disease that no one in her region knew how to cure. Freya thought that she could find a foreign cure for her. Along her travels, she collected various trinkets that she thought her sister would like. As she wandered, she would eventually find herself in contact with some sort of...creature. She cared little for its intentions, as she was focused on locating an antidote. She struck a deal to help it find certain things in her world that it was interested in, in exchange for the location of the herb, and certain other perks. Eventually obtaining the herb, Freya hurried to return to her sister. When she did return, she found her gone from her bed. At first she thought she was dead, but others informed her that a Travelling doctor had arrived and fell in love with her. He helped her back to health using the same type of herb that Freya had found. Freya was glad to find that her sister had joined the doctor on his travels. Leaving the oddities and trinkets she had collected back in their room, Freya set on her path again to travel. This time with the full intent on finding interesting objects and completing her end of the deal.
Liam the Weak: Level 4 Human Fighter - Trying to fight against his other personality, and constantly losing.
Aodh: Level 20 Half-Elf Cleric of Life - Not really. It's a strange being that had possessed and broke down a level 20 Cleric of Life Domain, gaining his knowledge and power.
"*****": Level 1 Tiefling Sorcerer - Her family is dead, and her will is broken. She follows orders so that those that command her will allow her to die.
(I have an idea for how to tweak his story, which would also make a great scene)
Wind biting at the slivers of skin peeking out between layers of cloth and fur, thunder booming overhead like some great battle in the sky, and the slick road ahead veering sharply around the mountain, the turn barely visible through the squall: this was a grueling journey, but it was one Vark was used to. Being half human meant being smaller, and therefore less valuable than any of the full blooded orcs in the Galestone clan. So of course, it was Vark who was chosen every week to take the potentially fatal trek up to the summit of Endelfjell. Much better for him to slip to his doom up there than a strong warrior or hunter. But the half-orc didn't mind, he enjoyed any chance to get away from his tribe, away from the constant derision and occasional beatings. The solitude of the journey was nice, but even better was the company of Aureaonus.
While his tribe worshipped the reclusive storm giant like a god, Vark was the only one that had actually met the awe inspiring being. The giant was fond of the diminutive half-orc, who's quiet demeanor and simple perspective on things grounded the lofty giant. Vark would sit in his palace for hours as Aureaonus would read the storms which raged around his home for omens. Often the massive giant wouldn't even acknowledge Vark, but occasionally he'd ask for his opinions, responding with thundering laughter or another few hours of contemplative silence, seemingly affected by Vark's words.
This trip proved different. As Vark finished unloading the cart of plundered treasures, he strolled into Aureaonus' observatory and to his surprise, found that the giant already had company. Three tall, blue skinned humanoids wearing fine, colorful silks stood there, one of them seemingly arguing with the giant. Vark had picked up a couple words in giant from his times with Aureaonus, but the language the group spoke now was different, almost blending into the sounds of the winds raging outside. Scared, but curious, Vark hid and watched. his giant friend was powerful, but could he take on these three if it came to that? Not that there was anything Vark could do either way.
Vark didn't get his answer. As the tensions rose, the storm out side began to seep into the building, winds rushing around the room, thunder booming inside. The strangers attacked first, jumping at Aureaonus who struck back with fists and bolts of lightning. Vark knew he needed to flee, this was getting out of control. Rushing out from the corner he'd been hiding in, he'd almost made it to the hallway, when a rogue strike of lightning blasted into him. Vark went flying, skidding across the grey marble floor before coming to a smoking halt.
Memories of the next hour are shattered. Vark recalls hearing, and more oddly understanding, the stranger's voice, demanding Aureaonus for what the giant had taken. Limping out of the palace, driving the cart back down the slope, waking up in his hut, his mother pressing a poultice to the burns that branched across his chest. Vark couldn't read her reaction when he recounted the story. Disbelief? Joy? Fear? Probably all of them. The next morning was a blur. "You must go. If the chief finds out you were touched by Aureaonus... I don't know, I don't want to find out." Packing, walking out into the snow, his mother waving goodbye.
Vark was sure he would see her again, but he knew she was right. he didn't understand what had happened or how he survived, and he surely wasn't expecting the elemental magic that would soon begin manifesting in him, but he couldn't help but feel that maybe this was meant to happen.
Liam the Weak: Level 4 Human Fighter - Trying to fight against his other personality, and constantly losing.
Aodh: Level 20 Half-Elf Cleric of Life - Not really. It's a strange being that had possessed and broke down a level 20 Cleric of Life Domain, gaining his knowledge and power.
"*****": Level 1 Tiefling Sorcerer - Her family is dead, and her will is broken. She follows orders so that those that command her will allow her to die.
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I have a Level 1 Hill Dwarf Fighter that I would like to submit for this adventure. Char Sheet
Brom is a seasoned warrior. He spent the majority of his life in service to his clan Ironshield. When peace descended upon his people and there were no wars, Brom ventured out for battle. He found himself venturing from city to city hiring himself out as a caravan guard to protect cargo from highwaymen.
Tarkin | Human | Fighter 1 -> Rise of the Rough Riders
Kuno| Half Elf male | Rogue 2 Wielding a Rapier, dagger and leather armor.
It sounds like you've already made your choice, but sure, i'll be more specific =P
Crispy was nearly dying in the alleys of Waterdeep at the age of 15. She was found by the Commander of a special forces group who took her in and pushed her through basic training until she reached 18. The force she was on would remain undisclosed, for it was a secret military organization that took on powerful and supernatural threats the city's regular police force couldn't or wouldn't tackle. The problem was, Crispy was, and still is, a dirty cop. She found joy and pleasure in abusing her power. Born from deep within her programming, she would extort, beat up, bribe, and constantly act above the law with her partner, and one day that got her in a whole mess of trouble. When they decided to push around the wrong crime boss, Crispy got her partner and his family killed, lost her job, and was exiled from Waterdeep and stripped of her accolades. She wanders the land to this day trying to cope with her problems, deal with her demons inside, and try and do the right thing.
As far as motivation for coming to the mining town. Can we say his family has been there before to steal things. He is on his way back to return the golden bust back to the shop owner that his family swindled long ago.
Sylelor lied face down on the edge of a cliff overlooking the path towards the village of Sheercleft. As the caravan passed by, Syl’s eyes moved around looking at all the surrounding areas. Sheercleft could not afford to lose another caravan. Out of the corner of Syl’s eye, he saw a masked human hiding behind a rock.
“Careful,” He yelled as a signal to the leader of the caravan as he shot an arrow at the bandit.
Syl then quickly stood up to begin chasing the bandit. He hated doing this but he needed the money for his son’s education as well as he cared for the wellbeing of others.
(is this the correct ranger? link)
"Git yer bloody arse up. We 'ave to git to tha mine Erik!" Hurrig rolls out of his bed, yelling at his bunkmate. "We've slept a whole two hours past roll call!" Hurrig is stout in size, even for a dwarf, his fiery red hair loose from its braids. He rushes to put on his armor and mining gear. "Erik!! Let's go!" Hurrig runs over to Erik's bed, the tall dark skinned human drunkenly passed out in bed. "Ah screw 'im." He packs up his stuff and heads out.
He walks out of the hutch into the bright sunlight, squinting his eyes. "Ahh shite, tha Foreman is gonna kill me. I can't afford to lose this job." He runs off quickly towards the foreman's office, quickly throwing his hair into a quick top knot. and tossing his helmet on over it. On the way to the office, he says a quick prayer to Moradin and his holy symbol glows a little. When he reaches the office, with a heavy hand, and a lump in his throat he knocks on the door with three loud thumps. A voice calls from the inside, "Come in." As Hurrig opens the door, the voice yells, "I swear to Moradin, Hurrig, you better have a good excuse!" Hurrig steps in the office with his head down and the door slams shut behind him.
Also I do like the idea of him joining and running off after realizing its not much of a life for him.
Mavi Göz Mal - Half Orc Monk Level 1 Not Another Lost Mine of Phandelver
Drita - Aasimar Hexblade Warlock Lvl 3 Tomb of Annhilation
Iznik Sylnithas - Half Drow Blood Hunter Level 2 Precipice of Voids
Name: Valaith "Rimehand" Kalukavi
Class: Barbarian (Storm Herald eventually)
Alignment: Neutral
Background: Outlander
Personality: Friendly and jovial if a bit guarded from the high degree of mistrust and suspicion she has encountered since the loss of her tribe. She has a competitive streak and often engages others in competitions of various types. Without realizing it, Valaith is searching for her next "clan", a place where she can be accepted and therefore is overcompensating the mistrust with a high degree of benevolence. While raging her compassion disappears and she becomes as cold and calculating as the blizzards of her homeland to the south.
Background: Valaith was always competitive with her older brother (Lakin) as they both constantly sought to outdo the other in nearly all aspects of their lives, but yet they were both fiercely protective of each other and their family. Her brother was stronger and smarter, but Valaith had more endurance and she could often outlast him in challenges that involved stamina or tests of constitution. She earned her nickname of "Rimehand" during one such competition in which she outlasted all others to see who could hold their bare fists out of a tent into a raging ice storm, when she finally drew her hand back through it was covered in hoarfrost and thus she earned her nickname.
One evening when the tribe was settling in and pitching camp in, Lakin boasted to Valaith of the caribou he had hunted for the tribe during their last encampment and challenged her to outdo his accomplishment. Never being one to be outdone, Valaith gathered her weapons and joined the hunting band as they departed. Several days into the hunt, the small group encountered a band of orcs which turned out to be a scouting party for the flanks an of orcish warband that was on the move and heading towards Valaith's camp. Given that the vanguard was likely already ahead of the hunting party, Valaith and the other goliaths immediately set out at a breakneck, dangerous pace through the mountain passes. Attrition through exhaustion or obstacles dwindled the hunting party until just Valaith remained as she raced as quickly as her legs could carry her, staggering the last few miles only due to her impressive constitution. So tired she was, that she did not realize anything was amiss as she collapsed just outside of the encampment, dragging herself and calling out for the scouts. When she received no response, she willed herself to her feet and stumbled forward into the ruins of the Kalukavi tribe. While she had beaten the orcish warband, another threat had come... She found the bodies of her people scattered among several frost giant corpses, including her family crushed beneath their enemy even in victory. She gathered her brother's hammer and what little supplies she could find before fleeing through the narrow, northern passages where the orcs could not follow in large number.
The journey north alone was dangerous and terribly lonely as Valaith nursed an ever-growing fury that seemed to match the relentlessness of a raging blizzard and she found that could draw upon that strength. She continued north through the dwarven territories where she found little acceptance and much scorn, despite her circumstances. She eventually found at least a temporary home in the mining town of Sheercleft and was able to find some steady income selling out her warrior skill set as a guard for the town.
Sheet:Character sheet
Valaith "Rimehand" Kalukavi - Chronicles of Arden
Nights in Sheercleft brought a bitter wind howling through the mountains that locked most souls in their homes. In spite of this, many braved momentary cold for the warmth of the tavern fire after a day in the mines. In the center of the spacious room stood a dwarf roaming about the tables with a mug in hand. Bründir didn't have a drop of blood related to the town, but he was everyone's brother. To some, he shared games and jokes, others he led in a song, and a few he simply sat and chatted for a while over a drink and a pipe.
On this night, the main door opened to reveal a troupe of dwarves from the nearby mountain hold. Where others gave nods of recognition and a casual "Good evening", Bründir raced across the room to greet them.
"Stone-brother Dain! How're ye and yer boys? Come fer a drink or three, please. Alvus! A round fer friends of Sheercleft, on me!" The group of dwarves were traders that brought food and provisions from their nearby city in exchange for various supplies and the ore mined in the town. Bründir was no merchant, but he saw value in trade and the traders as friends to every city they visited.
However Dain, the leader of the small band, did not seem to have a heart for social pleasure, "Bründir, ah'm sorry, lad. We've come on business an' must be off. Yer mayor's struck a deal with th' elves, we won' be tradin' with Steelcleft fer a while." The older dwarf seemed hesrtbroken by this news, as though it pained him personally as well as professionally.
Bründir seemed struck by the news and a few concerned heads turned toward the dwarves. Shaking off the gloom, Bründir brought a faint smile back, "Dain, please, stay until tomorrow. We'll talk to the mayor about this and resolve the matter. 'Til and after then, ye're still friends of Sheercleft." Dain seemed mildly comforted and agreed, sharing a drink with the folk of Sheercleft for the night.
The following morning, Bründir and Dain approached the mayor at the town hall. A guard tried to block them until Bründir made a promise of visiting objects on bodily openings. The mayor's office was roomy with a large desk at one end and several bookshelves nearby. A single visitor sat opposite from the mayoral seat. At Bründir's interruption, attention turned and the dwarves saw the visitor was an elf, elaborately dressed and tattooed as those of the nearby forest. "Sir, if we may 'ave a minute - nay, if we all may 'ave a minute?"
Seeing Dain, the mayor quickly surmised the reason for intrusion and cut it off, "Bründir, the matter is settled. A better offer has been made by Elenwyr's people."
"Sir, please, we've not come to disturb yer peace. We only want to keep friends an' allies." Turning to the elven ambassador, Bründir approaches the desk and offers Dain a seat (though not before receiving the mayor's consent). "Sir, th' mountain hold has always been a close friend. Who's it that helped build th' mine? Who took in th' sick an' cold when their homes could'na keep winter at bay?"
The ambassador quickly cut off the dwarf's plea, "Do you suggest that their trade is more important than our troubles? Our lives? We are beset by brigands on the border of our forest! Our hunters refuse to leave without armed escort and our warriors are to spread and under-armed to defend everywhere they are needed."
Bründir suddenly took a somber tone, "Ambassador, please don' think we don' care fer ye'er plight. My heart breaks fer ye an' yer people. But can y'all not see a better way? We of Sheercleft are not soldiers, but we're strong and loyal to friends. Dain's people 'ave worked foundry and forge for ages. If ye'll consider it, can we all not come together to push these bastards out? Mayor, if they're on the border, wha's stoppin' them from starvin' the passes?"
A long, tense moment passes as the leaders and representatives stare across the desk to each other. The tension was unbearable and Bründir hastily added, "Give me th' brave souls, an' give them tools t'fight, an' Ill' lead th' charge me'self."
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
O wow I just saw the writing sample request, I'll get on that!
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
That's the one I meant. I had multiple tabs open and I guess I put the wrong link.
The gold bust might have been a little much, but whatever ornate decoration with sentimental/real value. Yeah, I picture the family kind of like gypsies. Travel to one place steal from it. Go to the next place and sell all the stuff while stealing new things etc. Archie has traveled a bit.
Up to you and how you want to build the world: maybe he has some places he knows he wants to make up for.... maybe some people recognize him and gets into some hot water.
Thank you, stormchaser! Would you like a sample from me for Valaith as well for consideration?
Valaith "Rimehand" Kalukavi - Chronicles of Arden
Thanks @Stormchaser, I'm going to flesh out a full backstory at some point today! Very Excited to get started. Also is someone going to have sharing on with ddb?
Mavi Göz Mal - Half Orc Monk Level 1 Not Another Lost Mine of Phandelver
Drita - Aasimar Hexblade Warlock Lvl 3 Tomb of Annhilation
Iznik Sylnithas - Half Drow Blood Hunter Level 2 Precipice of Voids
Name: Freya Yates
Class: Warlock
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Background: Charlatan
Personality: She is a generally upbeat attitude towards others. The only moment I show annoyance is when others touch my puppet. She has a love of odd items, often attempting to collect those items if no one else claims them, or if they are of no particular use to anyone. When it comes to fighting, she tends to act according to what she thinks would get her to walk away alive, rather than what she can do to defeat my opponent. That is, only if she doesn't think she can prevail. She only resorts to survival instincts when she's in a pinch. That isn't to say that she would be cowardly enough to strike deals with intelligent enemies in order to save herself.
Background: As a child, Freya had always admired travelers. She loved the different types of clothing they wore, she liked the stories that some of them would tell the her and the other children, and she especially loved the foreign items that they brought with them. She would gaze at them in awe as their foreign beauty amazed her. She would dream of Travelling, and seeing all those foreign objects up close. Of course, her interest in collecting oddities did not entirely stem from this. It was also a result from her younger sister's interest in foreign items. They would often attempt to create their own strange items, similar to the ones travelers show to them. Out of all their attempts, however, only one item they crafted gave them the same interest they had toward the real items. It was a doll, one unlike anything they thought they could make.
This doll was the only toy they kept as they grew.
Freya eventually became a traveller, though not because she wanted to. Her sister had fallen ill with a disease that no one in her region knew how to cure. Freya thought that she could find a foreign cure for her. Along her travels, she collected various trinkets that she thought her sister would like. As she wandered, she would eventually find herself in contact with some sort of...creature. She cared little for its intentions, as she was focused on locating an antidote. She struck a deal to help it find certain things in her world that it was interested in, in exchange for the location of the herb, and certain other perks.
Eventually obtaining the herb, Freya hurried to return to her sister. When she did return, she found her gone from her bed. At first she thought she was dead, but others informed her that a Travelling doctor had arrived and fell in love with her. He helped her back to health using the same type of herb that Freya had found. Freya was glad to find that her sister had joined the doctor on his travels.
Leaving the oddities and trinkets she had collected back in their room, Freya set on her path again to travel. This time with the full intent on finding interesting objects and completing her end of the deal.
Liam the Weak: Level 4 Human Fighter - Trying to fight against his other personality, and constantly losing.
Aodh: Level 20 Half-Elf Cleric of Life - Not really. It's a strange being that had possessed and broke down a level 20 Cleric of Life Domain, gaining his knowledge and power.
"*****": Level 1 Tiefling Sorcerer - Her family is dead, and her will is broken. She follows orders so that those that command her will allow her to die.
(I have an idea for how to tweak his story, which would also make a great scene)
Wind biting at the slivers of skin peeking out between layers of cloth and fur, thunder booming overhead like some great battle in the sky, and the slick road ahead veering sharply around the mountain, the turn barely visible through the squall: this was a grueling journey, but it was one Vark was used to. Being half human meant being smaller, and therefore less valuable than any of the full blooded orcs in the Galestone clan. So of course, it was Vark who was chosen every week to take the potentially fatal trek up to the summit of Endelfjell. Much better for him to slip to his doom up there than a strong warrior or hunter. But the half-orc didn't mind, he enjoyed any chance to get away from his tribe, away from the constant derision and occasional beatings. The solitude of the journey was nice, but even better was the company of Aureaonus.
While his tribe worshipped the reclusive storm giant like a god, Vark was the only one that had actually met the awe inspiring being. The giant was fond of the diminutive half-orc, who's quiet demeanor and simple perspective on things grounded the lofty giant. Vark would sit in his palace for hours as Aureaonus would read the storms which raged around his home for omens. Often the massive giant wouldn't even acknowledge Vark, but occasionally he'd ask for his opinions, responding with thundering laughter or another few hours of contemplative silence, seemingly affected by Vark's words.
This trip proved different. As Vark finished unloading the cart of plundered treasures, he strolled into Aureaonus' observatory and to his surprise, found that the giant already had company. Three tall, blue skinned humanoids wearing fine, colorful silks stood there, one of them seemingly arguing with the giant. Vark had picked up a couple words in giant from his times with Aureaonus, but the language the group spoke now was different, almost blending into the sounds of the winds raging outside. Scared, but curious, Vark hid and watched. his giant friend was powerful, but could he take on these three if it came to that? Not that there was anything Vark could do either way.
Vark didn't get his answer. As the tensions rose, the storm out side began to seep into the building, winds rushing around the room, thunder booming inside. The strangers attacked first, jumping at Aureaonus who struck back with fists and bolts of lightning. Vark knew he needed to flee, this was getting out of control. Rushing out from the corner he'd been hiding in, he'd almost made it to the hallway, when a rogue strike of lightning blasted into him. Vark went flying, skidding across the grey marble floor before coming to a smoking halt.
Memories of the next hour are shattered. Vark recalls hearing, and more oddly understanding, the stranger's voice, demanding Aureaonus for what the giant had taken. Limping out of the palace, driving the cart back down the slope, waking up in his hut, his mother pressing a poultice to the burns that branched across his chest. Vark couldn't read her reaction when he recounted the story. Disbelief? Joy? Fear? Probably all of them. The next morning was a blur. "You must go. If the chief finds out you were touched by Aureaonus... I don't know, I don't want to find out." Packing, walking out into the snow, his mother waving goodbye.
Vark was sure he would see her again, but he knew she was right. he didn't understand what had happened or how he survived, and he surely wasn't expecting the elemental magic that would soon begin manifesting in him, but he couldn't help but feel that maybe this was meant to happen.
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
Sorry that was long and basically just his whole backstory lol, I got excited.
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
@CraigTJones I'll likely surprise you with some stuff like that as we go along. ;)
@Lyrel I'd certainly be interested to, but I also got a pretty good idea from the backstory you wrote out.
@Agonzo516 I'm still getting the hang of the DDB campaign tools. I've created a campaign page, what do you mean by having sharing on?
EDIT - Ninja'd by Sphynxxy. I'll read yours now.
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
@Sphynxxxy I like it! I think I just found our primary arcane caster. ;)
@Girania Sorry, your warlock is nice, but I have to start making some decisions. Thanks for the interest though!
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Awesome! Thank you!
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
Aw dang. I showed up too late.
Liam the Weak: Level 4 Human Fighter - Trying to fight against his other personality, and constantly losing.
Aodh: Level 20 Half-Elf Cleric of Life - Not really. It's a strange being that had possessed and broke down a level 20 Cleric of Life Domain, gaining his knowledge and power.
"*****": Level 1 Tiefling Sorcerer - Her family is dead, and her will is broken. She follows orders so that those that command her will allow her to die.