This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The time of dragons dawns. Calling upon ancient magic and a host of draconic allies, the Cult of the Dragon seeks to unleash Tiamat from her prison in the Nine Hells. By bringing the Queen of Dragons bodily into the world, the cult plans to scour away their foes and usher in a new age of draconic dominance. But hope yet remains for the Forgotten Realms, as six heroes rise from obscurity to oppose the coming evil...
About the Campaign
This adventure will combine the tales of Hoard of the Dragon Queen and Rise of Tiamat. As the adventure unfolds, you'll face dragons rampaging across the Sword Coast, cultists, Red Wizards of Thay, and a gallery of other villains plotting to reshape the world in preparation for their dark deity's return to the material plane.
Beginners and seasoned DnD veterans are both welcome to apply. All I ask if a commitment to the play-by-post format, which means consistent posting! You can expect 1 to 3 updates throughout the day from me, and I encourage the players to try and match that.
This campaign will start at level 1. All sourcebooks are allowed. Homebrew is allowed on a case-by-case basis (DM me for approval). Stats will be chosen from the arrays rolled below.
You can apply by replying to this thread with a character concept, including the following:
Name: Race: Class: Backstory: Hook: Your character needs a reason to be on the road. Either looking for work elsewhere, or working as a caravan guard.
Name: Apollo Heledove Race: Aasimar Class: Paladin (DM'd about subclass) Backstory:
No happier man could be found in all of Waterdeep than Apollo of House Heledove. The Heledove family had spent generations consolidating power, gathering favors, and forging alliances. A plan a hundred years in the making would come to fruition soon, for the time was coming for a new lord to join the ruling council of Waterdeep, and Apollo was primed for ascencion. His mother's side of the family had sculpted him his entire life for this moment, even ensuring he received proper training as a knight. His father was a little more lax, often regaling him heroic tales and legends of his own family history. Tales of an ancient knightly order, forging a pact between man and dragon for the good of all. At some point during his upbringing he stopped hearing about it, as his studies and training grew more intense.
In truth, this did not matter to him. For he had a treasure far greater than any position of power could give him: a young daughter, Diane. Though her mother had passed from a virulent illness, the young lordling had soldiered on for the sake of his daughter. When he emerged on the other side of his grief, he was stornger than ever. Apollo could have been stripped of all of his titles and worldly possessions. But so long as he still had her, he would tell you that he retained his poistion as the happiest man alive.
Perhaps it was because of this fact that his foes targeted him as they did, forgoing physical wounds for something deep, a sundering of the soul. As he returned from a formal event hosted by another family, he felt a great sense of dread upon him. He rushe dback to his family's estate to find it empty, abandoned. Gone were all traces of not only his own parents, cousins, brothres, and sisters...But also Diane. He raised his neighbors and tried to rally the guard, but to his his horror found they all turned on him. None claimed to know him, nor this "Heledove" family. They treated him as some drunken madman, and cast him from the Castle Ward.
The months proceeding were dark, and too often Apollo found himself at the edge of his own existence. But a small spark always pulled him back: what if Diane could be brought back? What if he missed something, and there were answers yet to be found?
He returned to Waterdeep once more, sneaking into what was once his family's estate. Within his daughter's room - which had been empty when he tore through in a panic last time - he found something strange. A ring made of a strange dark metal, the band engraved with a pattern that resembled dragon scales, and a bright silver stone. Scorched into the wooden flooring floor was a message: "I am blood of your blood, and bone of your bone --forever. We will avenge those of our blood. Find me."
Hook: Apollo has spent months searching for further clues to his family's disappearance. Something about the ring and message made him think back to those old stories his father had told him. Tales of dragons. But what little money he had with him was starting to deplete, and his investigation would require money. His training as a knight would come in handy, and he was able to get himself recruited as a caravan guard for merchants traveling through the Western Heartlands.
Name: Russel Gwyddel Link to sheet Race: Shifter Class: Fighter Backstory:
Russel as a young child wondered off from his home chasing a rat into the woods. He was soon lost with many trails and dangers he was fortunate to be found by a family of sprites who lost their own child recently. The Faye's normally aloof attitude was overridden by maternal instincts and raised him as their own. Things were going happily till he was adventuring not far from his new family and was lured to a house made from a hollow tree by a young woman who look much like his mother. But the woman was actually a hag able to detect the young child's memories. And she loved to play evil games with unwary passerby's Enamored with his red hair and light blue eyes Instead of eating him the hag experimented on Russel polymorphing him into different forms experimenting with different hexes while torturing other children she caught from a nearby city by luring them from alleyways with candy and toys into her domain. Finally consuming their souls and making meat pies she would sell for coin intown. The Fae worried about their adopted son searched for him for a year till they happened upon the evilly protected tree recognizing from afar their adopted son and realizing they needed help partitioned adventures and the authorities intown and soon there was an epic battle. The hag and her coven slain their son rescued but sent to an orphanage in the city. For the sprites in their efforts were slain also. Russel Varangian its a name he remembers from the short years he was fully human. Though he looks the part of his true parents. He sometimes feels the urge of the hunt something wolfish within. While at the orphanage he learned to fend for himself stealing what was needed. He soon found a rapier amongst other tools off a dead rogue in an alley way. He learned the nuances of armor weapons and shields from an old veteran existing in the gutters too old and drunk to earn a living Russel would steal booze and food for the lessons the veteran taught, till he found the man dead of the mans own neglect. Taking the mans shield helm and armor Varangian now in his late teens, decided to try and put the Vets lessons to use perhaps earn a living.
Hook:
Looking for adventure, but needing coin, Russel hired on to caravans as a scout or guard, After the last job he found himself, wondering between jobs, heading south from Ber Dusk.
Name: Xarian Harkes (<-- Link to dndbeyond character sheet) Race: Variant Human (mutt with one half-elven parent, and the other having some goliath blood) Class: Fighter (but mostly Wizard after level 1) Backstory and Hook: See (first) spoiler below.
Another lost cause, this one. Or so Xarian had thought ruefully, glancing up from the pages of his found spell book and his dreams of adventure.
For some reason, he had stood up to the bully this time. The big man. Gerrard Borresquieu, the son of the guard captain and looking every bit the part, had been laying into another sparring yard victim with his greatsword. This time, the sacrificial lamb had been Timothy, the chandler's son. One of Xarian's few friends. How the big man had laughed when Timothy, bruised and bleeding beyond reason for a friendly bout among guardsmen, had lain face-down in the mud, unable to rise. To his own astonishment, Xarian Harkes found himself standing up.
Why, he could not say, exactly. Xarian's father had been a passing half-goliath adventurer from the far northern mountains and his half-elven mother... his mother had been the kind of person that passing visitors paid a visit to often. Locals too, from the snickering at the Inn. Where exactly she had found the will to encourage his training at arms and study at school, Xarian would never know, though he thanked her every day for it.
But here and now, sitting propped against the wall of the barracks, by all rights, he should have kept poring through his newfound book, tattered with its symbols and sigils, attempting use a pair of lodestones to mend his torn breeches. Arcane mumbling... halting and uncertain. Xarian did have a maul to match Borresquieu'sgreatsword, aye, and nearly the stature and strength as well. But less experience, training or bloodlust. And far less status of birth. Even if he won against Gerrard somehow, it would come out as a loss after the abuse he would take in the weeks to follow. Then again, he was probably not going to win.
But up he stood against all good reason, striding out into the yard as Gerrard's blocky face broadened into its customary grin, stupid and cruel. Next victim up. Xarian helped Timothy stand and hobble away, then turned to face the big man, trying to recall his technique, remembering his footwork.
It was not going to be enough. Not against someone of Borresquieu's skill and ferocity. As maul clashed with greatsword and onlookers shouted, Xarian retreated a step, then three more, parrying and countering for all he was worth. Even scoring a glancing blow that turned the big man's face red with surprise and anger as Xarian's owl, Bookmark flapped her wings in Gerrard's face and the captain's son was briefly pushed back.
Almost.. almost... Xarian gestured frantically and booming blue energy began to sheathe his opponent, but fizzled before it could coalesce. Ducking the big man's counterattack, he fell back hastily and set his stance again, gritting his teeth.
Everyone knew it could not last. Gerrard Borresquieu had a mountain's weight of training, cruelty and far superior parentage. The comfort and confidence of someone who knew his place in life as sure as the autumn snows in the Sword Mountain foothills. As the first flakes began to fall, the big man feinted right, then slipped past Xarian's parry, which came a split second too late this time. Gerrard's flat-arced swing was not a sparring blow, but rather one to break ribs. Maybe crush a lung or kidney. Kill, even.
Borresquieu grinned once again in anticipation. And then roared suddenly in surprise. A strange, blue arcane shield turned the blade aside as Xarian desperately splayed his fingers in a warding gesture, off balance and falling backward, hardly understanding what he was doing.
Gerrard spat with furious disgust. "WHY DON'T YOU GO FONDLE A BLOODY BOOK LIKE A POINTY-HATTED WIZARD ADVENTURER, YOU HALF-BREED SON OF AN ACTUAL WHORE! THE SPARRING YARD IS NO BLOODY PLACE FOR MAGIC!"
And so Xarian had. Gone back to trying to make sense of the strange spell book he had found, that is. And later left town as a caravan guard bound for Elturel in search of adventure. Once he was able to move again after the beating that Borresquieu had proceeded to lay on him, anyway.
He just hadn't expected what would happen next with the dragons...
Name: Kiya Ighara Race: Half-Elf Class: Light Cleric Backstory: For most of her life, Kiya did not pay homage to any particular deity, though ironically she spent swathes of her time within their temples. As an archaeologist, she sought out the ruins of ancient temples, attempting to piece together the religious practices of Faerun's ancient past. However, after spending a considerable amount of time in the ruins of a temple to Lathander, she found herself drawn to the Morninglord.
Even after she moved on from the site, in her spare time she continued her research on the deity's past worship, keeping up a regular correspondence with archaeologists still at the temple. Eventually, her diligence paid off in a strange way.... Hook: She was sent a vision, an omen of death of destruction to be wrought upon the realms. Few of her colleagues believed her however, so she set off in search of concrete proof. Night after night she continued to be plagued with nightmarish visions, leading her south into the Greenfields.
Backstory and Hook: Yvas was an unemployed young man looking to solve the universe's secrets. His brother had taken all the inheritance left from his father's death at sea (rumor has it a sea hag got him) and Yvas had frequent dreams about a man in black watching him.
Yvas couldn't find the secret to magic. It was always just beyond his reach. But a strange traveler promised to give him the secret in exchange for his soul. With godlike power the trade was complete. Yvas was a successful young man but was haunted by the lack of his soul. He seemed to age faster than everyone else, and know he knows that this quest is his chance to earn it back. But he has to prove himself.
Backstory: Erry was abandoned at the steps of the monestry and grew up under the care of the monks there. They fed he, clothed her, preached to her and taught her all that they knew but as she grew up so did her curiousity. Her questions about preachings turned into questions about purpose of being. Unable to tide over her inquisitive nature the monks often sent her on missions to search for lost texts and abandoned libriaries. One day on her way back form a particular mission she discovered a tabaxi kit shivering in the cold night. She picked the kit and brought him back to the monestary. She rised the kit herself but as time went on the kit grew sick with a unknown disease.
Hook: Unable to see her child to become sicker as time goes on, she went on her own mission this time to find a cure for this mysterious disease.
Name: Roblox Ironheel Race: Dwarf Class: Fighter/ Battlemaster Backstory: Just a basic Dwarf with visions of glory. See character sheet for more detail. Hook: Roblox is a soldier in the town guard and because of his low to mid rank is assigned caravan duty.
Trystane was born in a backwater village to a single mother who died during childbirth. She had claimed that he hasn’t got a father but the village had been sacked by a troll tribe not too long ago and for anyone, who bothers doing the math, it is clear that she had been taken advantage of during that raid, or so Trystane had been told. Perhaps, due to his unconfirmed heritage or by some family trait, Trystane was blessed with an insane constitution. His wounds closed rapid and his endurance and resistance caused much envy in his peers. His appearance however was off-putting to say the least and his hideous features, such as his oversized humpback and his unproportionally long legs, caused him to be largely cast aside by the village society as a freak already at a young age.
One fateful day, a circus visited Trystane’s village and he was as curious as anyone to see their spectacle. The troubadours made fast friends with him for which he fell quickly. No one else ever had been wanting to befriend him before. Of course he didn’t know their ulterior motives. He’d be a good addition to their show, they figured after hearing about him from the other villagers. Their plot worked and he decided to travel with them leaving his birthplace behind for the very first time in his life, though no tear was shed for he was glad to start a new life. One in which he would be appreciated. Differently than he hoped for, but he didn’t know that yet.
A few stops later he participated in a few shows as he was promoted to do and, when he refused once, he learned that refusal wasn’t an option for him. Especially since his part of the show would be extraordinarily healing wounds that would be even more staggering when he didn’t cooperate. Nevertheless his growing discontent caused the shows to bring in less money for the circus. Therefore they devised a new plan to make him more docile. One of them knew an ancient ritual that would imprison a beast within a person, or so he claimed. The ritual however is deadly to most who undergo it but due to Trystane’s constitution they weren’t too worried about that and anyway either he becomes easier to control or he dies.
They followed the ritual to the letter and it went smooth, perhaps it was even easier than they had thought it would be. True, they had to restrain Trystane but that they had anticipated. After all they needed to break him one way or another. Near the end, however, a violent transformation reformed Trystane’s body and he was writhing in agony and his muscle straining against his constraints. Until, with a sudden burst he broke free, maddened from pain and blind with rage. He took out two of the troupe before they managed to overwhelm him and cut him down. Equal in fear and belief that their ritual had failed, they left him bleeding to death at the ritual site. Unbeknownst to them, Trystane wasn’t done with the world and he stabilized against all odds. His unnatural regenerative skill carried his body back into the world of the living and a short time later he stumbled out of the woods into a new life with a book about the ritual that was supposedly performed on him.
It took Trystane some time to realize that his physique had changed, he looked normal, or at least not as hideous as before. Most of what had occurred during the ritual was lost to Trystane, perhaps for the better, but he never stopped to wonder why they had left him behind. Either way, he made his way to a nearby village where he learned that the troupe had departed for more than a week ago and they couldn’t tell him where to. Not that he cared. This was a month ago.
Now he sits comfortably around a campfire accompanying a merchant as a hired guard. A good life for what he could tell. They didn’t face any danger so far and the pay was ok, considering that their lodging and meals were covered, too. Guards seem to be in high demand. Good that he had a bit of training as they had established a mandatory militia training in his village. His village, he tries to remember the faces that had constituted to his childhood. It seemed another life altogether, perhaps it was.
Hook: Trystane follows as a hired guard. It is his first employment and he feels it is easy work so far.
Name: Hanzo Race: Human Class: Fighter (Samurai) Backstory: Knight Hook: Sent out to observe and report on local activities in the area, and to prove himself
The time of dragons dawns. Calling upon ancient magic and a host of draconic allies, the Cult of the Dragon seeks to unleash Tiamat from her prison in the Nine Hells. By bringing the Queen of Dragons bodily into the world, the cult plans to scour away their foes and usher in a new age of draconic dominance. But hope yet remains for the Forgotten Realms, as six heroes rise from obscurity to oppose the coming evil...
About the Campaign
This adventure will combine the tales of Hoard of the Dragon Queen and Rise of Tiamat. As the adventure unfolds, you'll face dragons rampaging across the Sword Coast, cultists, Red Wizards of Thay, and a gallery of other villains plotting to reshape the world in preparation for their dark deity's return to the material plane.
Beginners and seasoned DnD veterans are both welcome to apply. All I ask if a commitment to the play-by-post format, which means consistent posting! You can expect 1 to 3 updates throughout the day from me, and I encourage the players to try and match that.
This campaign will start at level 1. All sourcebooks are allowed. Homebrew is allowed on a case-by-case basis (DM me for approval). Stats will be chosen from the arrays rolled below.
You can apply by replying to this thread with a character concept, including the following:
Name:
Race:
Class:
Backstory:
Hook: Your character needs a reason to be on the road. Either looking for work elsewhere, or working as a caravan guard.
Ability Score Arrays
Ability scores: 13 12 12 14 11 17
Ability scores: 10 16 15 14 13 12
Ability scores: 11 9 15 12 16 16
Ability scores: 11 17 12 15 11 15
Ability scores: 14 11 13 14 9 14
Ability scores: 15 16 16 13 15 13
Ability scores: 11 18 15 12 12 15
PM me the word “Tomato”
Ability scores: 17 16 13 13 13 14
Name: Apollo Heledove
Race: Aasimar
Class: Paladin (DM'd about subclass)
Backstory:
No happier man could be found in all of Waterdeep than Apollo of House Heledove. The Heledove family had spent generations consolidating power, gathering favors, and forging alliances. A plan a hundred years in the making would come to fruition soon, for the time was coming for a new lord to join the ruling council of Waterdeep, and Apollo was primed for ascencion. His mother's side of the family had sculpted him his entire life for this moment, even ensuring he received proper training as a knight. His father was a little more lax, often regaling him heroic tales and legends of his own family history. Tales of an ancient knightly order, forging a pact between man and dragon for the good of all. At some point during his upbringing he stopped hearing about it, as his studies and training grew more intense.
In truth, this did not matter to him. For he had a treasure far greater than any position of power could give him: a young daughter, Diane. Though her mother had passed from a virulent illness, the young lordling had soldiered on for the sake of his daughter. When he emerged on the other side of his grief, he was stornger than ever. Apollo could have been stripped of all of his titles and worldly possessions. But so long as he still had her, he would tell you that he retained his poistion as the happiest man alive.
Perhaps it was because of this fact that his foes targeted him as they did, forgoing physical wounds for something deep, a sundering of the soul. As he returned from a formal event hosted by another family, he felt a great sense of dread upon him. He rushe dback to his family's estate to find it empty, abandoned. Gone were all traces of not only his own parents, cousins, brothres, and sisters...But also Diane. He raised his neighbors and tried to rally the guard, but to his his horror found they all turned on him. None claimed to know him, nor this "Heledove" family. They treated him as some drunken madman, and cast him from the Castle Ward.
The months proceeding were dark, and too often Apollo found himself at the edge of his own existence. But a small spark always pulled him back: what if Diane could be brought back? What if he missed something, and there were answers yet to be found?
He returned to Waterdeep once more, sneaking into what was once his family's estate. Within his daughter's room - which had been empty when he tore through in a panic last time - he found something strange. A ring made of a strange dark metal, the band engraved with a pattern that resembled dragon scales, and a bright silver stone. Scorched into the wooden flooring floor was a message: "I am blood of your blood, and bone of your bone --forever. We will avenge those of our blood. Find me."
Hook: Apollo has spent months searching for further clues to his family's disappearance. Something about the ring and message made him think back to those old stories his father had told him. Tales of dragons. But what little money he had with him was starting to deplete, and his investigation would require money. His training as a knight would come in handy, and he was able to get himself recruited as a caravan guard for merchants traveling through the Western Heartlands.
Ability scores: 16 14 8 15 15 17
I'd like to throw my hat in. One of these days maybe I'll be able to finish this campaign. (>//<)
Ability scores: 10 7 8 12 16 16
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reminder for myself. Work together or fail apart. Talk with each other when necessary. Describe how, where, if, your character moved.
The sign on the trail ahead reads "DONT FEED THE DRAGON!" "Working Together" Follow this link please
Ability scores: 13 11 13 17 10 17
Name: Russel Gwyddel Link to sheet
Race: Shifter
Class: Fighter
Backstory:
Russel as a young child wondered off from his home chasing a rat into the woods. He was soon lost with many trails and dangers he was fortunate to be found by a family of sprites who lost their own child recently. The Faye's normally aloof attitude was overridden by maternal instincts and raised him as their own. Things were going happily till he was adventuring not far from his new family and was lured to a house made from a hollow tree by a young woman who look much like his mother. But the woman was actually a hag able to detect the young child's memories. And she loved to play evil games with unwary passerby's Enamored with his red hair and light blue eyes Instead of eating him the hag experimented on Russel polymorphing him into different forms experimenting with different hexes while torturing other children she caught from a nearby city by luring them from alleyways with candy and toys into her domain. Finally consuming their souls and making meat pies she would sell for coin intown. The Fae worried about their adopted son searched for him for a year till they happened upon the evilly protected tree recognizing from afar their adopted son and realizing they needed help partitioned adventures and the authorities intown and soon there was an epic battle. The hag and her coven slain their son rescued but sent to an orphanage in the city. For the sprites in their efforts were slain also. Russel Varangian its a name he remembers from the short years he was fully human. Though he looks the part of his true parents. He sometimes feels the urge of the hunt something wolfish within. While at the orphanage he learned to fend for himself stealing what was needed. He soon found a rapier amongst other tools off a dead rogue in an alley way. He learned the nuances of armor weapons and shields from an old veteran existing in the gutters too old and drunk to earn a living Russel would steal booze and food for the lessons the veteran taught, till he found the man dead of the mans own neglect. Taking the mans shield helm and armor Varangian now in his late teens, decided to try and put the Vets lessons to use perhaps earn a living.
Hook:
Looking for adventure, but needing coin, Russel hired on to caravans as a scout or guard, After the last job he found himself, wondering between jobs, heading south from Ber Dusk.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reminder for myself. Work together or fail apart. Talk with each other when necessary. Describe how, where, if, your character moved.
The sign on the trail ahead reads "DONT FEED THE DRAGON!" "Working Together" Follow this link please
Ability scores: 17 15 11 13 11 16
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Name: Xarian Harkes (<-- Link to dndbeyond character sheet)
Race: Variant Human (mutt with one half-elven parent, and the other having some goliath blood)
Class: Fighter (but mostly Wizard after level 1)
Backstory and Hook: See (first) spoiler below.
Xarian Harkes' backstory and hook:
Another lost cause, this one. Or so Xarian had thought ruefully, glancing up from the pages of his found spell book and his dreams of adventure.
For some reason, he had stood up to the bully this time. The big man. Gerrard Borresquieu, the son of the guard captain and looking every bit the part, had been laying into another sparring yard victim with his greatsword. This time, the sacrificial lamb had been Timothy, the chandler's son. One of Xarian's few friends. How the big man had laughed when Timothy, bruised and bleeding beyond reason for a friendly bout among guardsmen, had lain face-down in the mud, unable to rise. To his own astonishment, Xarian Harkes found himself standing up.
Why, he could not say, exactly. Xarian's father had been a passing half-goliath adventurer from the far northern mountains and his half-elven mother... his mother had been the kind of person that passing visitors paid a visit to often. Locals too, from the snickering at the Inn. Where exactly she had found the will to encourage his training at arms and study at school, Xarian would never know, though he thanked her every day for it.
But here and now, sitting propped against the wall of the barracks, by all rights, he should have kept poring through his newfound book, tattered with its symbols and sigils, attempting use a pair of lodestones to mend his torn breeches. Arcane mumbling... halting and uncertain. Xarian did have a maul to match Borresquieu's greatsword, aye, and nearly the stature and strength as well. But less experience, training or bloodlust. And far less status of birth. Even if he won against Gerrard somehow, it would come out as a loss after the abuse he would take in the weeks to follow. Then again, he was probably not going to win.
But up he stood against all good reason, striding out into the yard as Gerrard's blocky face broadened into its customary grin, stupid and cruel. Next victim up. Xarian helped Timothy stand and hobble away, then turned to face the big man, trying to recall his technique, remembering his footwork.
It was not going to be enough. Not against someone of Borresquieu's skill and ferocity. As maul clashed with greatsword and onlookers shouted, Xarian retreated a step, then three more, parrying and countering for all he was worth. Even scoring a glancing blow that turned the big man's face red with surprise and anger as Xarian's owl, Bookmark flapped her wings in Gerrard's face and the captain's son was briefly pushed back.
Almost.. almost... Xarian gestured frantically and booming blue energy began to sheathe his opponent, but fizzled before it could coalesce. Ducking the big man's counterattack, he fell back hastily and set his stance again, gritting his teeth.
Everyone knew it could not last. Gerrard Borresquieu had a mountain's weight of training, cruelty and far superior parentage. The comfort and confidence of someone who knew his place in life as sure as the autumn snows in the Sword Mountain foothills. As the first flakes began to fall, the big man feinted right, then slipped past Xarian's parry, which came a split second too late this time. Gerrard's flat-arced swing was not a sparring blow, but rather one to break ribs. Maybe crush a lung or kidney. Kill, even.
Borresquieu grinned once again in anticipation. And then roared suddenly in surprise. A strange, blue arcane shield turned the blade aside as Xarian desperately splayed his fingers in a warding gesture, off balance and falling backward, hardly understanding what he was doing.
Gerrard spat with furious disgust. "WHY DON'T YOU GO FONDLE A BLOODY BOOK LIKE A POINTY-HATTED WIZARD ADVENTURER, YOU HALF-BREED SON OF AN ACTUAL WHORE! THE SPARRING YARD IS NO BLOODY PLACE FOR MAGIC!"
And so Xarian had. Gone back to trying to make sense of the strange spell book he had found, that is. And later left town as a caravan guard bound for Elturel in search of adventure. Once he was able to move again after the beating that Borresquieu had proceeded to lay on him, anyway.
He just hadn't expected what would happen next with the dragons...
^^^ See spoiler above for Backstory and Hook ^^^
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Ability scores: 15 13 12 14 13 14
Name: Kiya Ighara
Race: Half-Elf
Class: Light Cleric
Backstory: For most of her life, Kiya did not pay homage to any particular deity, though ironically she spent swathes of her time within their temples. As an archaeologist, she sought out the ruins of ancient temples, attempting to piece together the religious practices of Faerun's ancient past. However, after spending a considerable amount of time in the ruins of a temple to Lathander, she found herself drawn to the Morninglord.
Even after she moved on from the site, in her spare time she continued her research on the deity's past worship, keeping up a regular correspondence with archaeologists still at the temple. Eventually, her diligence paid off in a strange way....
Hook: She was sent a vision, an omen of death of destruction to be wrought upon the realms. Few of her colleagues believed her however, so she set off in search of concrete proof. Night after night she continued to be plagued with nightmarish visions, leading her south into the Greenfields.
Name: Yvas Silverheart
Race: Variant Human
Class: War Magic Wizard
Backstory and Hook: Yvas was an unemployed young man looking to solve the universe's secrets. His brother had taken all the inheritance left from his father's death at sea (rumor has it a sea hag got him) and Yvas had frequent dreams about a man in black watching him.
Yvas couldn't find the secret to magic. It was always just beyond his reach. But a strange traveler promised to give him the secret in exchange for his soul. With godlike power the trade was complete. Yvas was a successful young man but was haunted by the lack of his soul. He seemed to age faster than everyone else, and know he knows that this quest is his chance to earn it back. But he has to prove himself.
Upvote these 18 unique mythical weapon materials!
"Be the change you wish to see in the world." - Mahatma Gandhi
Ability scores: 8 14 13 9 14 17
Upvote these 18 unique mythical weapon materials!
"Be the change you wish to see in the world." - Mahatma Gandhi
I'll change to point buy: 8 13 14 15 12 10. With my ability increase for my race that's 8 14 14 16 12 10.
Upvote these 18 unique mythical weapon materials!
"Be the change you wish to see in the world." - Mahatma Gandhi
Here are my roles as my placeholder request.
Ability scores: 12 11 14 11 12 16
**This Space for Rent**
Ability scores: 17 12 9 8 13 17
Name: Erry Moonmeadow
Race: Halfling
Class: Monk
Backstory: Erry was abandoned at the steps of the monestry and grew up under the care of the monks there. They fed he, clothed her, preached to her and taught her all that they knew but as she grew up so did her curiousity. Her questions about preachings turned into questions about purpose of being. Unable to tide over her inquisitive nature the monks often sent her on missions to search for lost texts and abandoned libriaries. One day on her way back form a particular mission she discovered a tabaxi kit shivering in the cold night. She picked the kit and brought him back to the monestary. She rised the kit herself but as time went on the kit grew sick with a unknown disease.
Hook: Unable to see her child to become sicker as time goes on, she went on her own mission this time to find a cure for this mysterious disease.
Character: https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/106553254/OmtTtA
Name: Roblox Ironheel
Race: Dwarf
Class: Fighter/ Battlemaster
Backstory: Just a basic Dwarf with visions of glory. See character sheet for more detail.
Hook: Roblox is a soldier in the town guard and because of his low to mid rank is assigned caravan duty.
**This Space for Rent**
Ability scores: 15 13 16 18 12 14
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Zephirah - Demonic Bard - Sands || Merry - Gifted Surgeon - Short || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan - Dwarf Dragon - Wuxian ||
Trystane was born in a backwater village to a single mother who died during childbirth. She had claimed that he hasn’t got a father but the village had been sacked by a troll tribe not too long ago and for anyone, who bothers doing the math, it is clear that she had been taken advantage of during that raid, or so Trystane had been told. Perhaps, due to his unconfirmed heritage or by some family trait, Trystane was blessed with an insane constitution. His wounds closed rapid and his endurance and resistance caused much envy in his peers. His appearance however was off-putting to say the least and his hideous features, such as his oversized humpback and his unproportionally long legs, caused him to be largely cast aside by the village society as a freak already at a young age.
One fateful day, a circus visited Trystane’s village and he was as curious as anyone to see their spectacle. The troubadours made fast friends with him for which he fell quickly. No one else ever had been wanting to befriend him before. Of course he didn’t know their ulterior motives. He’d be a good addition to their show, they figured after hearing about him from the other villagers. Their plot worked and he decided to travel with them leaving his birthplace behind for the very first time in his life, though no tear was shed for he was glad to start a new life. One in which he would be appreciated. Differently than he hoped for, but he didn’t know that yet.
A few stops later he participated in a few shows as he was promoted to do and, when he refused once, he learned that refusal wasn’t an option for him. Especially since his part of the show would be extraordinarily healing wounds that would be even more staggering when he didn’t cooperate. Nevertheless his growing discontent caused the shows to bring in less money for the circus. Therefore they devised a new plan to make him more docile. One of them knew an ancient ritual that would imprison a beast within a person, or so he claimed. The ritual however is deadly to most who undergo it but due to Trystane’s constitution they weren’t too worried about that and anyway either he becomes easier to control or he dies.
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Zephirah - Demonic Bard - Sands || Merry - Gifted Surgeon - Short || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan - Dwarf Dragon - Wuxian ||
Name: Hanzo
Race: Human
Class: Fighter (Samurai)
Backstory: Knight
Hook: Sent out to observe and report on local activities in the area, and to prove himself
Ability scores: 14 14 14 17 14 16
Currently Playing: Regdus Ironfist (Greyhawk) Lvl 1 Storm Sorcerer ; Goraseth Drerjoxian (Icespeak) Lvl 3 Paladin Oath of Glory; Lerak (The Wild Beyond the Witchlight) Lvl 3 Barbarian Wild Magic
In Pause: Grimnir " Shadow-Feet", Lv 11 Owner of "The Basilisk & the Monk" (OotA) - Kurma Kappa, Lv 8 Priest of Oghma (ToA)
Currently DM'ing: Princes of Apocalypse >> Tomb of Annihilation