You find yourselves in the small village of Oakhurst, nestled snugly between the base of the Skyclaw Mountains and the edge of the Whispering Wood. Less than a week ago you all had been travelling north by caravan towards the ancient switchback known as Azmaran's Stair, the only safely passable route through the mountains for a hundred miles in any direction.
That is until the snows started.
A days journey from Oakhurst one of the pack horses stepped into a hole covered by the drifting snows, snapping its front leg in two and unceremoniously pulling the wagon into a deep culvert running alongside the road. Having put the poor beast out of its misery and unsuccessfully attempting to maneuver the wagon back up onto the road you gather all you can carry and trudge north through the blinding snow and ice.
Now you sit and wait in the Howling Hallows Inn, if you'd call a defunct shrine to some long forgotten god where one can get a stout drink and a hard cot to sleep on the back room an inn, waiting for the snows to clear before you can continue your journey further north. The people of Oakhurst are a bit odd, giving you quizzical looks as you shovel boiled cabbage down your gullet, but they seem friendly enough. You've overheard whispers from the townsfolk of peculiar happenings plaguing the village. Folks are afraid to venture outside the walls of the village for fear of monsters that maraud the woods and surrounding countryside by night. Livestock has been turning up dead, the carcasses bearing dozens of strange needle like wounds. A pair of local hunters, Jon and Benjen, went missing three days past and have not been seen or heard from since...
I am looking for a party of 4, possibly 5, 1st level characters. Please apply with a description of your character and what he or she would have been doing while snowed in the village of Oakhurst The party will be acquaintances with each other having been traveling together in the caravan. I will give it at least few days for replies then I will select the party members.
You may use anything from an officially published WotC 5E source and anything from the UA's. This will take place in my homebrew world and I will be running a modified version of Sunless Citadel. Only rules would be please no meta gaming and be courteous to your fellow players. If you could try to post at least once a day that would be great. I work a full time job and have two kids so I know life can get in the way of D&D so if you are going to be unable to post for an extended period of time please let the group know. Thanks for your interest.
Update: For ability scores you can choose the standard array from the PHB or you can roll 4d6 and drop the lowest. You can reroll one 1 during your ability score rolls.
Darastrag Male Lizardfolk Ranger (Gloom Stalker, probably)
"Lissten, fellow wanderers. I have a tale that will chill your bones..."
Once lizardfolk ruled supreme in the great swamp of Dar Rulak in eastern Kadeira. For generations untold, they hunted its waterways and kept to themselves. Strangers who wandered into the swamp traded in goods or secrets, or they did not leave the swamp. The tribes of Dar Rulak sought nothing more than to be left alone, to war amongst themselves in the dank primeval marshes, but alas, change is the way of the world.
From deep in the darkness, whispers squirmed into the minds of the lizardfolk shamans. Whispers of power, of secrets, of a coming queen who could not be defeated but who would reward her servants with unimaginable might. Might to spread the swamp over all the world!
The shamans rose up and slew the chieftains of the lizardfolk tribes and drove the tribes out of the swamps and into war. A lizardfolk army is a horrifying and efficient machine, supplying its needs from the flesh of the fallen. Town after town fell before the onslaught as the reptilian warriors poured forth, led by a dark-helmed griffon-rider with haunted eyes and an aura of death. The rider, emissary of the Queen, promised victory and rule over all the territory the lizardfolk conquered. The shamans ate up the Queen's promises and scorched the earth with the powers she granted. When the army marched south from Vrakis, an alliance of humans and dwarves and even centaurs, the lizardfolk were shattered and their hopes scattered (along with their survivors) to the four winds.
Darastrag is one of those survivors. For five years, he wanders Kadeira looking for his lost uncle Darastrix. Along the way, he meets a grizzled human ranger who helps the lizardman learn how to live with nature rather than off of it, symbiosis rather than being a parasite. He learns to scout and track, and not to kill every warm-blooded creature he meets. In fact, as far as lizardfolk go, Darastrag is positively friendly! Hearing rumors of a wandering lizardfolk merchant in the northern territories, the ranger joins a caravan heading through the mountains.
While waiting for the snows to clear, he wanders the wilds around the Inn for short stretches of time, then hurries back to curl up beside the fire and soak up the warmth. He watches the others and answers questions with short phrases. Not curt or rude - in fact, he seems quite likeable - just not familiar with conversation. He sits so still, though, and for such long periods of time that it is very easy to forget he's even there.
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
App to come for a bard or monk.
Damn, Aram... you sure have the luck on your stat rolls. Let's hope that inspires my dice as well..
Ability scores: 1414671013
That 4 will be a fun one...almost just went with point buy, but I think this will make things more interesting.
N'ruel Qalrustran
Drow, male
Monk (kensei planed)
Outlander background
What he's doing in the inn: Much expected, N'ruel, a bald-headed drow, wearing bluish-green monks robes, keeps mostly to himself while the blizzard batters the inn the group has found themselves in. When he can find time to be alone, the monk tries to keep his body in shape by performing his daily kata, both unarmed and with his shortsword. Otherwise, he can be found at a seat near the fireplace with a cup of tea nearby, and where he can always keep one eye on the door while playing his shawm, or randomly tying knots with his rope. Any time someone approaches him to interact, he looks to the others in the group to ensure that this newcomer can be trusted. Any interaction that he offers to those he's not familiar with is usually just a nod, or simple one word answers.
That 4 deserves a bit of a backstory...
N’ruel Qalrustran was strong from the beginning. His mother, Shri’garu, had told him that he was the only of his siblings to have survived the birth. She had always told him that when he slayed his siblings in her womb, that it had given her such a rush of ecstasy that she knew the survivor was destined for great things. As the eldest son of a minor noble house, allied to House Misraria, he devoted the first part of his life to serving the Matron Priestess of Lolth. This honor of service was something of a family tradition by the firstborns for each generation of his family, going back for centuries. However, such position is highly coveted by other male drow, making all who are seeking such position natural enemies.
Upon the day of the first trials to proceed into the service of the Matron, he was deemed unworthy – likely some seed of doubt with planted within the Matron by one of his rivals. Typically, this would have marked the end of his life, but that sense of survival that N’ruel had from conception allowed him to barely escape the city with his life. The weight of failing this test had nearly crushed him, as his sense of purpose had been taken from him. After making his way out of the Underdark he wandered for months.
Once his relative safety was ensured, his world came crashing in on him. All his life devoted to one cause suddenly unrealized, not to mention the expectation of the family tradition. This realization destroyed his belief in himself, any many times contemplated just throwing himself off the mountain. But again, his inborn sense of survival wouldn’t allow himself to do it.
As a fierce winter came on, his struggle to just survive and find food became dire. He dug himself out the cave he managed to locate and use for shelter, and he wandered upon a nearby monastery he had always kept clear of. Hesitant to take a drow in, the masters realized that this creature appeared to no longer display the typical ruthlessness of the race. The masters took him in and provided him much needed food and shelter.
He has spent the better part of ten years in slowly training, doing little more than perfecting his body and senses, as his faith in himself is still shaken. As there is little more his masters can teach him until he can discover his self-worth, they have sent him out from the monastery on journey to hopefully rediscover himself.
How okay are you with having a chaotic evil character? I promise there will be no derailing of the campaign whatsoever but I was thinking of something like a tiefling warlock (fiend patron).
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
What method should we be using for ability scores?
Leaving off that for now, my application:
EDIT: Alright gonna give rolling for scores a try...
Ability scores: 121413151113
Lyndis, Wood Elf Monk (either Open Hand or Kensei, not sure yet)
Lyndis was something of a rambunctious child, hot headed and prone to fighting. Eventually things came to a head, and several decades ago in a fit of particularly strong anger he ran away from the town where he grew up. Setting out on his own into the wilderness with no supplies and little experience, he would likely have starved to death if not found by Helvi, a wandering dwarf monk, who nursed Lyndis back to health and took him on as her apprentice. Helvi's monk training served to cool Lyndis's temper, and the two have spent years traveling together, working as day laborers or caravan guards. Just recently, Helvi passed away, and Lyndis was headed through Azmaran's Stair to bring news of her death to her clan and monestary when the snows forced the caravan to stop in Oakhurst.
I'm thinking for my background a slightly modified version of Folk Hero that I'm calling Drifter, still uses the Rustic Hospitality feature and the starting equipment but instead of land vehicle proficiency gives a language (for Lyndis specifically Dwarvish), and Insight instead of Animal Handling.
Virtue Ferruhjalis - Tiefling Fighter (Archery, Planning for Battle Master)
Born to two human parents with dormant infernal heritage, Virtue disguised herself as a man and enlisted in the army to escape from the devil-hating she received in her small farming village. As a soldier, Virtue managed to rise to the rank of sergeant due to her tactical mind and leadership talent (and the fact that being able to make your voice three times as loud with inborn thaumaturgy is very useful for shouting commands on loud battlefields) before her gender was discovered and she was discharged. Since then, she has been making her living guarding caravans, which brought her to Oakhurst. While snowed in, she would have been trying to analyze the strength of Oakhurst's defenses and how well they stack up against the threats that may lurk outside the walls.
Obviously this character would have the Soldier background, but I was thinking of swapping in proficiency in deception and/or disguise kit to reflect the disguise part of her backstory.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Esvele Waters - Human Cleric of the Tempest
DMProctor - I had written this character up a while ago assuming the Forgotten Realms; as this is a homebrew world, I'm not sure of its structure, so if there are changes you'd like for me to make to her early history below, please feel free to let me know so that we can discuss.
Esvele grew up as most of the island folk do - splitting her time between working the land and exploring the sea. Her family traces back to one of the original settlements on the island chain... That, however, was a few generations back, the family tree had since uprooted and transplanted to the newer, better protected settlements - the people from those original settlements abandoning them due to... incursions.
As a youth, she tended to get lost for a bit in the dangerous forests surrounding the town. It was hard to know when the forests ended and where the fey wild opened up, so thin was the veil between the two throughout the woodlands, but Esvele was never fouled or harm. She had made a friend that taught her the ways of the wild Goddess of Winds and Weather (Aerdrie Faenya in FR). The nature of the goddess spoke to her own restless spirit and she has ever since then followed her ways. Her forest friend taught her some minor arcana, allowing her to call forth her fey osprey, Gwaihir.
When Esvele was of age - having become stronger, both physically and spiritually, she found the call of the winds pulling at her heart. Her forest friend, although knowing her answer already, asked her to stay, promising her that there was a whole other world he could show her. She almost stayed, but a gentle wind came through and with it a bright green feather that landed in her hair. She took it as a sign from her goddess and departed from her friend, the feather in her hair ever since.
She found passage on a ship and took to sailing life well. She kept her faith with her serving as the ship's cleric. Although her moods could be as tempestuous and a little wild when on shore-leave, both she and her feathered friend, Gwaihir, were well loved by the crew. However, the wind is calling again, and so, she moves on.
After some time sailing, she found herself restless again and the next time her ship set sail, she was not on it. As exploration was in her nature, she joined a caravan to seek the freedom that the seas gave her overland. Then, she and her fellows from the caravan were snowed in at Oakhurst. Esvele defaulted to her sailor-ways and did what she always does when in a tavern.... drink... copiously. When sober - and when not - she would willing swap stories with those in the tavern, while her osprey Gwaihir kept a watchful eye up in the rafters. Diving occasionally for the food Esvele would throw up at him.
Whenever she managed to pull herself away from the tavern, she would be outside in the snow and storm, listening to the wind, sometimes standing outside when the storm was at its worst. The green feather in her hair, moving with the wind.
// Edit for ability score rolling.... //
// Dare I try rolling for scores? This could be dangerous given I already decided to go with a cleric... oh well, here's hoping I roll well for her! //
// Does "You can reroll one 1 during your ability score rolls." mean that I can reroll one '1' for each score or just one '1' among all six scores - I'll assume the latter for now, given it's more conservative. //
// Ability scores: 1412121199 - one extra 1d6 to replace a '1' should I roll one: 5 Well, looks like I should've gone with the standard array... oh well. LOL //
What method should we be using for ability scores?
Leaving off that for now, my application:
Lyndis, Wood Elf Monk
Lyndis was something of a rambunctious child, hot headed and prone to fighting. Eventually things came to a head, and several decades ago in a fit of particularly strong anger he ran away from the town where he grew up. Setting out on his own into the wilderness with no supplies and little experience, he would likely have starved to death if not found by Helvi, a wandering dwarf monk, who nursed Lyndis back to health and took him on as her apprentice. Helvi's monk training served to cool Lyndis's temper, and the two have spent years traveling together, working as day laborers or caravan guards. Just recently, Helvi passed away, and Lyndis was headed through Azmaran's Stair to bring news of her death to her clan and monestary when the snows forced the caravan to stop in Oakhurst.
I'm thinking for my background a slightly modified version of Folk Hero that I'm calling Drifter, still uses the Rustic Hospitality feature and the starting equipment but instead of land vehicle proficiency gives a language (for Lyndis specifically Dwarvish), and Insight instead of Animal Handling.
I updated my original post regarding ability scores.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
DM: Since we are allowed to reroll one stat, I will just bump that 4 to a 6 (7 with racial). That way by forth level my monk should have enough confidence in himself to function somewhat normally...so he won't be such a chore for the group. If that's acceptable.
Thomas Renier, Human Cleric (Torm, god of courage and sacrifice), Lawful Good (which is highly unusual for me) with a desire to do right by people he meets. He's deeply religious, a bit annoying, but decent, sometimes goody two shoes, but with a giant morningstar he's not afraid to use if anyone threatens peace or order. Thomas prefers to resolve things without resorting to violence, but it rarely happens.
If you would consider him, I could sent you a character sheet or whatever you might need on him. Let me know.
Thomas sat at the table, seemingly unpertubed by the troubles the snow has brought. It wasn't he first time fate inconvinienced him, and if he knew anything about fate, it certanly isn't the last. Perhaps, this will turn out for the best, somehow - they say will of the gods is unknowable. Perhaps, they ment it.
For now, he was content to just sit here, warm up and drink that swill they called tea, observing patrons. Taciturn cleric preferred observing to communicating. Besides, there was a little game he played with himself every time, where he made up stories in his head about people. They were usually far more interesting than their real lives, but that's the whole point. There, just across the room, sat a gloomy orc with a broken tusk. Alone. An exile, perhaps? Lost his tusk in a fight with a clanmate, or even a chief. But what for? Power? Woman? Both?
Waitress brought him another cup (more of a mug) of tea and Thomas almost regretted he does not imbibe.
The talk about the monsters and missing hunters piqued clerics interest. Thomas could feel it in his bones that something was not right here, that this was not yet another ghast infestation, but decided that forming his opinion on the rumours and old wives tales was a waste of time. He would like to stay and help, but he already had an obligation to a caravan.
'Perhaps, on the way back', Thomas thought, putting down some silver for the tea and stood up, ready to go to his room. It was time for an evening prayer. 'If there's anyone left to help...'
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Ahkmenos will sit along side his party at the table with his hood pulled well over his head. Not many people are appreciative of tieflings especially with the recent events taking place. He looks around the inn checking everyone; what they're doing, what they're wearing, and all the exits to the room. Stealth (just to cover his tiefling features): 20 Perception: 17
He's well prepared for anything by this time even if these folk begin to show hostility towards him since he knows he'll easily be able to fend them off with his newfound powers.
Encountering the fiend was the best thing to ever happen to him. He was introduced to powers he's never had before. If he wants to get stronger all he'll have to do is keep his patron happy, good thing their interests align.
By this time he's feeling a little thirsty, he'll lean over and whisper to one of the party members asking if they'd order for him so as to not start a panic amongst the people when they realize a tiefling is around. Order something spicy for me, I really want to feel it BURN as I pour it down my throat. He says this with a sadistic smile, sending goosebumps shivering down your spine.
After the barmaid leaves he'll hand over the coin for the drink over to the party member that payed for him. He'll take his glass eyeing his crew in challenge and pour it down in one shot, grinning at the discomfort of the fiery drink making its way to his stomach.
Once he finishes he'll sit back and scan the room once again. Keeping an eye out for any changes in the room and waiting for the party's next course of action. Perception: 2
Neil had always wanted to be a city watchman and he worked very hard toward that goal. Unfortunately, only a few weeks into his first posting his power manifested itself. It was a total shock to him, having never heard of anything like this in his family before, but very quickly the damage was done. He literally destroyed the side of a building in the moment and nearly fried another watchman. He left before they could officially force him out as he realized he was quite dangerous with this unchecked power.
After a couple months of this his Great Aunt came to see him. She was naturally sympathetic and spent time trying to cheer him up. Eventually she sat him down and told him about an old tale she had once heard from her own grandfather. It had long ago been dismissed as the ravings of an old man but it was his belief that they had a long distant ancestor who could wield such power. Unfortunately there were no records.
When leaving she left Neil with a box that she said contains something which could help him. Inside he found a note, calling the item an "old family relic" and a two finger ring that looked to be either bronze or copper. When he touched it he could feel something innately magical about it, a new sensation he had come to recognize. He did nothing with the ring for some time while he tried to figure out what to do. In that time he went to secluded locations and let go the power that was bubbling inside, discovering some interesting and powerful spells along the way.
Eventually he decided to leave home and see if he couldn't find himself a new purpose. He took the ring, what money he had and set out. He spend time with various individuals or groups, learning some of what he needed to manage his abilities, eventually ending up in Oakhurst, sitting at the bar, drinking a lager and waiting for a storm to pass. When not having a drink or conversation with other patrons, he steps outside and away from anything flammable to apparently let off a burst of lightning as if couldn't hold it in any longer.
@badpanda wrong campaign recruitment thread. The one you're looking for actually ended earlier today. Applications are closed and applicants have been notified whether they were selected or not.
Wait I just finished reading the second half of your last paragraph, did you combine to different campaigns? XD
@badpanda wrong campaign recruitment thread. The one you're looking for actually ended earlier today. Applications are closed and applicants have been notified whether they were selected or not.
Wait I just finished reading the second half of your last paragraph, did you combine to different campaigns? XD
Corvail Excavations was the final word in Arcane Archaeology to anyone in the know. Behind it was the Corvail family, which produced upstanding wizards for generations. Aerin was meant to be the next in line but had as much talent for the Art as a goldfish. Still, she was determined to make her reputation in the scholarly side of the business, despite her family's discouragement. Then came her cousin Ryndil. Just as she was ready to present her work on deciphering the strange glyphs left in a remote temple, Ryndil stole the credit. Incised, Aerin challenged him before her father to correctly pronounce the inscription. Well, who knew Great Old Ones were so tetchy about glottal stops? Certainly not Ryndil. Her family, however, were not impressed with her flawless pronunciation of Deep Speech, nor of the new talents the invocation had awoken. Disowned, Aerin intends to climb the loft heights of arcane scholarship on her own, one tentacle hold at a time.
Perhaps rumors of trouble at Oakhurst may provide the opportunity. As she sips her drink at the Inn, she observes other patrons and listens for likely leads.
This is a character that I designed for a homebrew campaign I was in some months ago that only managed to play for two sessions before unofficially disbanding. I've been hoping for an opportunity to give him some play time ever since. With that said, I humbly present my dear friend, Tovar Shanka.
Whether first meeting him in an open market or a battlefield, Tovar Shanka is unmistakable. A towering figure by any standard, he stands at a little under seven feet tall, and at first glance seems nearly as broad. His impressive physique, the result of over twenty years of rough travel, contributes to his forceful presence, which has been known to elicit bargains from the most unscrupulous traders the world over. While some would consider his obvious brawn to be his strongest suit, his dark whiskers and bright, friendly eyes conceal a sharp and inquisitive mind. While one might first fear his iron grip and crushing embrace, his cold calculations and industrial acumen rank him first as a formidable businessman.
But times have been hard, and after an incredible series of misfortunes, he has been reduced to hiring out his services, recalling years of martial training as a boy with his brothers from many decades ago. Through his once clean, dark beard, now ragged and shot with an iron grey matched in his eyes, Tovar gratefully slurps at the bowl that has been handed to him, looking no further than his next meal and bed, thankful for the warmth of the hearth.
This is what I rolled for Tovar as a human fighter.
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
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Northern Kingdom of Aldenia
Late Hungerhope
Dusk
You find yourselves in the small village of Oakhurst, nestled snugly between the base of the Skyclaw Mountains and the edge of the Whispering Wood. Less than a week ago you all had been travelling north by caravan towards the ancient switchback known as Azmaran's Stair, the only safely passable route through the mountains for a hundred miles in any direction.
That is until the snows started.
A days journey from Oakhurst one of the pack horses stepped into a hole covered by the drifting snows, snapping its front leg in two and unceremoniously pulling the wagon into a deep culvert running alongside the road. Having put the poor beast out of its misery and unsuccessfully attempting to maneuver the wagon back up onto the road you gather all you can carry and trudge north through the blinding snow and ice.
Now you sit and wait in the Howling Hallows Inn, if you'd call a defunct shrine to some long forgotten god where one can get a stout drink and a hard cot to sleep on the back room an inn, waiting for the snows to clear before you can continue your journey further north. The people of Oakhurst are a bit odd, giving you quizzical looks as you shovel boiled cabbage down your gullet, but they seem friendly enough. You've overheard whispers from the townsfolk of peculiar happenings plaguing the village. Folks are afraid to venture outside the walls of the village for fear of monsters that maraud the woods and surrounding countryside by night. Livestock has been turning up dead, the carcasses bearing dozens of strange needle like wounds. A pair of local hunters, Jon and Benjen, went missing three days past and have not been seen or heard from since...
I am looking for a party of 4, possibly 5, 1st level characters. Please apply with a description of your character and what he or she would have been doing while snowed in the village of Oakhurst The party will be acquaintances with each other having been traveling together in the caravan. I will give it at least few days for replies then I will select the party members.
You may use anything from an officially published WotC 5E source and anything from the UA's. This will take place in my homebrew world and I will be running a modified version of Sunless Citadel. Only rules would be please no meta gaming and be courteous to your fellow players. If you could try to post at least once a day that would be great. I work a full time job and have two kids so I know life can get in the way of D&D so if you are going to be unable to post for an extended period of time please let the group know. Thanks for your interest.
Update: For ability scores you can choose the standard array from the PHB or you can roll 4d6 and drop the lowest. You can reroll one 1 during your ability score rolls.
Darastrag
Male Lizardfolk
Ranger (Gloom Stalker, probably)
"Lissten, fellow wanderers. I have a tale that will chill your bones..."
Once lizardfolk ruled supreme in the great swamp of Dar Rulak in eastern Kadeira. For generations untold, they hunted its waterways and kept to themselves. Strangers who wandered into the swamp traded in goods or secrets, or they did not leave the swamp. The tribes of Dar Rulak sought nothing more than to be left alone, to war amongst themselves in the dank primeval marshes, but alas, change is the way of the world.
From deep in the darkness, whispers squirmed into the minds of the lizardfolk shamans. Whispers of power, of secrets, of a coming queen who could not be defeated but who would reward her servants with unimaginable might. Might to spread the swamp over all the world!
The shamans rose up and slew the chieftains of the lizardfolk tribes and drove the tribes out of the swamps and into war. A lizardfolk army is a horrifying and efficient machine, supplying its needs from the flesh of the fallen. Town after town fell before the onslaught as the reptilian warriors poured forth, led by a dark-helmed griffon-rider with haunted eyes and an aura of death. The rider, emissary of the Queen, promised victory and rule over all the territory the lizardfolk conquered. The shamans ate up the Queen's promises and scorched the earth with the powers she granted. When the army marched south from Vrakis, an alliance of humans and dwarves and even centaurs, the lizardfolk were shattered and their hopes scattered (along with their survivors) to the four winds.
Darastrag is one of those survivors. For five years, he wanders Kadeira looking for his lost uncle Darastrix. Along the way, he meets a grizzled human ranger who helps the lizardman learn how to live with nature rather than off of it, symbiosis rather than being a parasite. He learns to scout and track, and not to kill every warm-blooded creature he meets. In fact, as far as lizardfolk go, Darastrag is positively friendly! Hearing rumors of a wandering lizardfolk merchant in the northern territories, the ranger joins a caravan heading through the mountains.
While waiting for the snows to clear, he wanders the wilds around the Inn for short stretches of time, then hurries back to curl up beside the fire and soak up the warmth. He watches the others and answers questions with short phrases. Not curt or rude - in fact, he seems quite likeable - just not familiar with conversation. He sits so still, though, and for such long periods of time that it is very easy to forget he's even there.
Ability scores: 13 10 12 12 12 9
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid, Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck
Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions!
I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
App to come for a bard or monk.
Damn, Aram... you sure have the luck on your stat rolls. Let's hope that inspires my dice as well..
Ability scores: 14 14 6 7 10 13
That 4 will be a fun one...almost just went with point buy, but I think this will make things more interesting.
That 4 deserves a bit of a backstory...
N’ruel Qalrustran was strong from the beginning. His mother, Shri’garu, had told him that he was the only of his siblings to have survived the birth. She had always told him that when he slayed his siblings in her womb, that it had given her such a rush of ecstasy that she knew the survivor was destined for great things. As the eldest son of a minor noble house, allied to House Misraria, he devoted the first part of his life to serving the Matron Priestess of Lolth. This honor of service was something of a family tradition by the firstborns for each generation of his family, going back for centuries. However, such position is highly coveted by other male drow, making all who are seeking such position natural enemies.
Upon the day of the first trials to proceed into the service of the Matron, he was deemed unworthy – likely some seed of doubt with planted within the Matron by one of his rivals. Typically, this would have marked the end of his life, but that sense of survival that N’ruel had from conception allowed him to barely escape the city with his life. The weight of failing this test had nearly crushed him, as his sense of purpose had been taken from him. After making his way out of the Underdark he wandered for months.
Once his relative safety was ensured, his world came crashing in on him. All his life devoted to one cause suddenly unrealized, not to mention the expectation of the family tradition. This realization destroyed his belief in himself, any many times contemplated just throwing himself off the mountain. But again, his inborn sense of survival wouldn’t allow himself to do it.
As a fierce winter came on, his struggle to just survive and find food became dire. He dug himself out the cave he managed to locate and use for shelter, and he wandered upon a nearby monastery he had always kept clear of. Hesitant to take a drow in, the masters realized that this creature appeared to no longer display the typical ruthlessness of the race. The masters took him in and provided him much needed food and shelter.
He has spent the better part of ten years in slowly training, doing little more than perfecting his body and senses, as his faith in himself is still shaken. As there is little more his masters can teach him until he can discover his self-worth, they have sent him out from the monastery on journey to hopefully rediscover himself.
How okay are you with having a chaotic evil character? I promise there will be no derailing of the campaign whatsoever but I was thinking of something like a tiefling warlock (fiend patron).
To add some spice to the party ;)
What method should we be using for ability scores?
Leaving off that for now, my application:
EDIT: Alright gonna give rolling for scores a try...
Ability scores: 12 14 13 15 11 13
Lyndis, Wood Elf Monk (either Open Hand or Kensei, not sure yet)
Lyndis was something of a rambunctious child, hot headed and prone to fighting. Eventually things came to a head, and several decades ago in a fit of particularly strong anger he ran away from the town where he grew up. Setting out on his own into the wilderness with no supplies and little experience, he would likely have starved to death if not found by Helvi, a wandering dwarf monk, who nursed Lyndis back to health and took him on as her apprentice. Helvi's monk training served to cool Lyndis's temper, and the two have spent years traveling together, working as day laborers or caravan guards. Just recently, Helvi passed away, and Lyndis was headed through Azmaran's Stair to bring news of her death to her clan and monestary when the snows forced the caravan to stop in Oakhurst.
I'm thinking for my background a slightly modified version of Folk Hero that I'm calling Drifter, still uses the Rustic Hospitality feature and the starting equipment but instead of land vehicle proficiency gives a language (for Lyndis specifically Dwarvish), and Insight instead of Animal Handling.
https://www.dndbeyond.com/profile/Daemon19/characters/2337772. I am very interested in this. Where will it be held? Discord?
Virtue Ferruhjalis - Tiefling Fighter (Archery, Planning for Battle Master)
Born to two human parents with dormant infernal heritage, Virtue disguised herself as a man and enlisted in the army to escape from the devil-hating she received in her small farming village. As a soldier, Virtue managed to rise to the rank of sergeant due to her tactical mind and leadership talent (and the fact that being able to make your voice three times as loud with inborn thaumaturgy is very useful for shouting commands on loud battlefields) before her gender was discovered and she was discharged. Since then, she has been making her living guarding caravans, which brought her to Oakhurst. While snowed in, she would have been trying to analyze the strength of Oakhurst's defenses and how well they stack up against the threats that may lurk outside the walls.
Obviously this character would have the Soldier background, but I was thinking of swapping in proficiency in deception and/or disguise kit to reflect the disguise part of her backstory.
Esvele Waters - Human Cleric of the Tempest
DMProctor - I had written this character up a while ago assuming the Forgotten Realms; as this is a homebrew world, I'm not sure of its structure, so if there are changes you'd like for me to make to her early history below, please feel free to let me know so that we can discuss.
Esvele grew up as most of the island folk do - splitting her time between working the land and exploring the sea. Her family traces back to one of the original settlements on the island chain... That, however, was a few generations back, the family tree had since uprooted and transplanted to the newer, better protected settlements - the people from those original settlements abandoning them due to... incursions.
As a youth, she tended to get lost for a bit in the dangerous forests surrounding the town. It was hard to know when the forests ended and where the fey wild opened up, so thin was the veil between the two throughout the woodlands, but Esvele was never fouled or harm. She had made a friend that taught her the ways of the wild Goddess of Winds and Weather (Aerdrie Faenya in FR). The nature of the goddess spoke to her own restless spirit and she has ever since then followed her ways. Her forest friend taught her some minor arcana, allowing her to call forth her fey osprey, Gwaihir.
When Esvele was of age - having become stronger, both physically and spiritually, she found the call of the winds pulling at her heart. Her forest friend, although knowing her answer already, asked her to stay, promising her that there was a whole other world he could show her. She almost stayed, but a gentle wind came through and with it a bright green feather that landed in her hair. She took it as a sign from her goddess and departed from her friend, the feather in her hair ever since.
She found passage on a ship and took to sailing life well. She kept her faith with her serving as the ship's cleric. Although her moods could be as tempestuous and a little wild when on shore-leave, both she and her feathered friend, Gwaihir, were well loved by the crew. However, the wind is calling again, and so, she moves on.
After some time sailing, she found herself restless again and the next time her ship set sail, she was not on it. As exploration was in her nature, she joined a caravan to seek the freedom that the seas gave her overland. Then, she and her fellows from the caravan were snowed in at Oakhurst. Esvele defaulted to her sailor-ways and did what she always does when in a tavern.... drink... copiously. When sober - and when not - she would willing swap stories with those in the tavern, while her osprey Gwaihir kept a watchful eye up in the rafters. Diving occasionally for the food Esvele would throw up at him.
Whenever she managed to pull herself away from the tavern, she would be outside in the snow and storm, listening to the wind, sometimes standing outside when the storm was at its worst. The green feather in her hair, moving with the wind.
// Edit for ability score rolling.... //
// Dare I try rolling for scores? This could be dangerous given I already decided to go with a cleric... oh well, here's hoping I roll well for her! //
// Does "You can reroll one 1 during your ability score rolls." mean that I can reroll one '1' for each score or just one '1' among all six scores - I'll assume the latter for now, given it's more conservative. //
// Ability scores: 14 12 12 11 9 9 - one extra 1d6 to replace a '1' should I roll one: 5 Well, looks like I should've gone with the standard array... oh well. LOL //
Storm King's Thunder - Ink, Elven Bladesinging Wizard
Core City: APbPA - Ormond, Human Twilight Cleric
The Inferno - BG:Dia - DM
They keep me rollin'
I'll go with standard array, I'm a little busy right now but later today I can send you a link to my character sheet.
DM: Since we are allowed to reroll one stat, I will just bump that 4 to a 6 (7 with racial). That way by forth level my monk should have enough confidence in himself to function somewhat normally...so he won't be such a chore for the group. If that's acceptable.
Just curious what the reroll would have been
Ability scores: 12
Thomas Renier, Human Cleric (Torm, god of courage and sacrifice), Lawful Good (which is highly unusual for me) with a desire to do right by people he meets. He's deeply religious, a bit annoying, but decent, sometimes goody two shoes, but with a giant morningstar he's not afraid to use if anyone threatens peace or order. Thomas prefers to resolve things without resorting to violence, but it rarely happens.
If you would consider him, I could sent you a character sheet or whatever you might need on him. Let me know.
Thomas sat at the table, seemingly unpertubed by the troubles the snow has brought. It wasn't he first time fate inconvinienced him, and if he knew anything about fate, it certanly isn't the last. Perhaps, this will turn out for the best, somehow - they say will of the gods is unknowable. Perhaps, they ment it.
For now, he was content to just sit here, warm up and drink that swill they called tea, observing patrons. Taciturn cleric preferred observing to communicating. Besides, there was a little game he played with himself every time, where he made up stories in his head about people. They were usually far more interesting than their real lives, but that's the whole point. There, just across the room, sat a gloomy orc with a broken tusk. Alone. An exile, perhaps? Lost his tusk in a fight with a clanmate, or even a chief. But what for? Power? Woman? Both?
Waitress brought him another cup (more of a mug) of tea and Thomas almost regretted he does not imbibe.
The talk about the monsters and missing hunters piqued clerics interest. Thomas could feel it in his bones that something was not right here, that this was not yet another ghast infestation, but decided that forming his opinion on the rumours and old wives tales was a waste of time. He would like to stay and help, but he already had an obligation to a caravan.
'Perhaps, on the way back', Thomas thought, putting down some silver for the tea and stood up, ready to go to his room. It was time for an evening prayer. 'If there's anyone left to help...'
DM Price of Misfortune (finished)
Ahkmenos will sit along side his party at the table with his hood pulled well over his head. Not many people are appreciative of tieflings especially with the recent events taking place. He looks around the inn checking everyone; what they're doing, what they're wearing, and all the exits to the room. Stealth (just to cover his tiefling features): 20 Perception: 17
He's well prepared for anything by this time even if these folk begin to show hostility towards him since he knows he'll easily be able to fend them off with his newfound powers.
Encountering the fiend was the best thing to ever happen to him. He was introduced to powers he's never had before. If he wants to get stronger all he'll have to do is keep his patron happy, good thing their interests align.
By this time he's feeling a little thirsty, he'll lean over and whisper to one of the party members asking if they'd order for him so as to not start a panic amongst the people when they realize a tiefling is around. Order something spicy for me, I really want to feel it BURN as I pour it down my throat. He says this with a sadistic smile, sending goosebumps shivering down your spine.
After the barmaid leaves he'll hand over the coin for the drink over to the party member that payed for him. He'll take his glass eyeing his crew in challenge and pour it down in one shot, grinning at the discomfort of the fiery drink making its way to his stomach.
Once he finishes he'll sit back and scan the room once again. Keeping an eye out for any changes in the room and waiting for the party's next course of action. Perception: 2
Neil had always wanted to be a city watchman and he worked very hard toward that goal. Unfortunately, only a few weeks into his first posting his power manifested itself. It was a total shock to him, having never heard of anything like this in his family before, but very quickly the damage was done. He literally destroyed the side of a building in the moment and nearly fried another watchman. He left before they could officially force him out as he realized he was quite dangerous with this unchecked power.
After a couple months of this his Great Aunt came to see him. She was naturally sympathetic and spent time trying to cheer him up. Eventually she sat him down and told him about an old tale she had once heard from her own grandfather. It had long ago been dismissed as the ravings of an old man but it was his belief that they had a long distant ancestor who could wield such power. Unfortunately there were no records.
When leaving she left Neil with a box that she said contains something which could help him. Inside he found a note, calling the item an "old family relic" and a two finger ring that looked to be either bronze or copper. When he touched it he could feel something innately magical about it, a new sensation he had come to recognize. He did nothing with the ring for some time while he tried to figure out what to do. In that time he went to secluded locations and let go the power that was bubbling inside, discovering some interesting and powerful spells along the way.
Eventually he decided to leave home and see if he couldn't find himself a new purpose. He took the ring, what money he had and set out. He spend time with various individuals or groups, learning some of what he needed to manage his abilities, eventually ending up in Oakhurst, sitting at the bar, drinking a lager and waiting for a storm to pass. When not having a drink or conversation with other patrons, he steps outside and away from anything flammable to apparently let off a burst of lightning as if couldn't hold it in any longer.
"No boom today. Boom tomorrow. There's always a boom tomorrow"
"No power in the 'verse can stop me"
@badpanda wrong campaign recruitment thread. The one you're looking for actually ended earlier today. Applications are closed and applicants have been notified whether they were selected or not.
Wait I just finished reading the second half of your last paragraph, did you combine to different campaigns? XD
"No boom today. Boom tomorrow. There's always a boom tomorrow"
"No power in the 'verse can stop me"
Corvail Excavations was the final word in Arcane Archaeology to anyone in the know. Behind it was the Corvail family, which produced upstanding wizards for generations. Aerin was meant to be the next in line but had as much talent for the Art as a goldfish. Still, she was determined to make her reputation in the scholarly side of the business, despite her family's discouragement. Then came her cousin Ryndil. Just as she was ready to present her work on deciphering the strange glyphs left in a remote temple, Ryndil stole the credit. Incised, Aerin challenged him before her father to correctly pronounce the inscription. Well, who knew Great Old Ones were so tetchy about glottal stops? Certainly not Ryndil. Her family, however, were not impressed with her flawless pronunciation of Deep Speech, nor of the new talents the invocation had awoken. Disowned, Aerin intends to climb the loft heights of arcane scholarship on her own, one tentacle hold at a time.
Perhaps rumors of trouble at Oakhurst may provide the opportunity. As she sips her drink at the Inn, she observes other patrons and listens for likely leads.
Half-elf, Goolock with the Standard Array.
https://www.dndbeyond.com/profile/TheManyNamed/characters/683513
I hope you'll take Aerin into consideration but I feel I should give fair warning this will be my first PbP on this site.
Hoping to sneak in one more entry.
This is a character that I designed for a homebrew campaign I was in some months ago that only managed to play for two sessions before unofficially disbanding. I've been hoping for an opportunity to give him some play time ever since. With that said, I humbly present my dear friend, Tovar Shanka.
Whether first meeting him in an open market or a battlefield, Tovar Shanka is unmistakable. A towering figure by any standard, he stands at a little under seven feet tall, and at first glance seems nearly as broad. His impressive physique, the result of over twenty years of rough travel, contributes to his forceful presence, which has been known to elicit bargains from the most unscrupulous traders the world over. While some would consider his obvious brawn to be his strongest suit, his dark whiskers and bright, friendly eyes conceal a sharp and inquisitive mind. While one might first fear his iron grip and crushing embrace, his cold calculations and industrial acumen rank him first as a formidable businessman.
But times have been hard, and after an incredible series of misfortunes, he has been reduced to hiring out his services, recalling years of martial training as a boy with his brothers from many decades ago. Through his once clean, dark beard, now ragged and shot with an iron grey matched in his eyes, Tovar gratefully slurps at the bowl that has been handed to him, looking no further than his next meal and bed, thankful for the warmth of the hearth.
This is what I rolled for Tovar as a human fighter.
Tovar Shanka Character sheet
I realize that the scores I rolled are quite high. I am more than willing to reroll as directed.
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Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid, Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck
Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions!
I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...