Backstory: Zheng was born in the village of Nanyang. Nanyang was a small village but Zheng was from a powerful family. Wishing to make a larger name for his family, Zheng joined the Xia army. For years Zheng was a glorified guard protecting city gates. Everyday he would train hoping to gain a chance to become a hero. When the dark times started Zheng was partly scared but also excited to have a chance to prove himself. His conversation was his strength and he used it to fight. His squad was sent to support the fight against the beast but they had no chance. They attempted to retreat into a local forest but were caught in an enormous wildlife. It was believed that everyone was killed but in pain and out of fear Zheng screamed for salvation. Hearing his screams the element of fire took pity on him, giving Zheng the power he needed to survive. After this event Zheng returned to his village a failure, when he arrived he only found destruction. Nothing left of the places or people he had grown up with and the Xia army destroyed Zheng left his past and last name behind. Zheng now sits in the Golden Dragon Tavern and Inn hoping to find a way to survive.
Could you share Zheng's character sheet link?
Super sorry that we had to delay the campaign start.
Backstory: High in the crimson‑veined ridges of Long‑Shan, a chain of peaks whispered to shelter the world’s oldest dragons, the reclusive Lantern‑Keepers kept watch. For untold dynasties they guarded the Amber Lantern, a mausoleum‑shrine said to cradle the soul‑flame of Xianglong the Unending, a river‑dragon whose spirit would one day rekindle and choose a new Emperor.
Apprenticed from childhood, Lan Shi studied the Circle of Dragons: tracing ley‑lines in jade dust, reading the thrum of buried scales in the stone, and brewing tonics that healed body and spirit alike. Then calamity struck. An earthquake split the shrine and revealed— not a slumbering titanic heart, but a desiccated coil of bones. The Lantern‑Keepers had been venerating a relic long drained of life.
Betrayed by lineage and legend alike, the young Keeper descended the mountain to Yin, capital of the new Shang Dynasty. Magic is outlawed, dragons are heresy, and yet dragon‑song still echoes in every river bend. If the lantern’s flame was extinguished, why does the land still hum with draconic currents? Carrying fragments of the shattered lantern and the healing arts of the old clan, the druid walks the empire in secret, scouring rumor and ruin for the missing spirit of Xianglong— and for the truth behind the Heavenly Mandate that toppled the world.
The search has led, inevitably, to the Roaring Dragon Tavern overlooking the Taihang foothills— a place where soldiers turn blind eyes and secrets flow like wine. Tonight, lantern‑shards rattle in the wanderer’s satchel, eager for answers.
Lan Shi has traced the faint thrum of draconic qi southward for weeks, following tales of an outlawed street‑magician who claims to channel a 'river dragon’s whisper' during secret performances; the rumor says the magician drinks nightly at the Roaring Dragon Tavern, where soldiers dare not intrude. Packed heavy with herbal remedies and the shattered amber shards of his clan’s lantern, Lan Shi slips onto a low stool near the hearth, hoping a bowl of millet wine and a healer’s ready hands will loosen tongues. If this performer truly wields the echo of Xianglong’s spirit, the tavern’s hush of conspirators and fugitives may provide the cover he needs to bargain for answers—or to defend the spark of dragonfire from those who would snuff it out.
Well, thanks everyone for submitting characters! We have 4 people, so I think we can start the campaign.
(OOC: Will make a campaign page sometime soon (if I can remember it.))
Lan Shi:
Waiting and watching (somewhat eagerly) for this magician, you begin to feel a sense of dread that they will not show. Each time the door of the tavern opens, the rusted hinges proving their age with small groans and creaks, your head snaps towards the new visitor. When the magician comes, you will know - you just feel it. But none of these regulars seem to be the right one.
Throughout your wait, you begin to look around the tavern, taking in the scene around you. Among these people, you see some who you feel are similar to yourself - travelers. Two humans and an elf, their eyes darting around the tavern, all sitting at tables around the tavern sipping their ale. One of these humans, as the door opens, also nervously glances towards the new arrivals, and you lock eyes for a second before turning away.
Your patient excitement is interrupted by a boisterous shout. You see a drunken man nearly shouting at the elf you saw, spouting all sorts of nonsense.
Zheng:
You simply sip your ale, taking in the room and enjoying the feeling of surviving another day. It's a calm respite from everyday life, which can prove difficult at times. However, a regular next to you, most likely long past drunk, turns to you, breath with the stench of beer. "Don't you just think that these new emperors are plain stupid?"he asks in a loud, slurred voice. He begins to attract the attention of most of the bar. "We should bring back old Emperor Jie. Those were the times! Killing everyone in our path...why, how I miss those days! Don't you agree?"
Heng Da:
You cautiously peer around the tavern, looking for those who might employ you - and become targets for a quick pickpocketing. You've checked the tavern's board, but almost nothing shows up there - planting some trees and fighting a rat infestation are the only papers up there, and even then, they don't pay well.
As you sit, looking around, you suddenly hear a man near you shouting about "old Emperor Jie." The rest of the tavern seems to notice as well, and people turn their heads. As this happens, you see a man who is just turning around to observe the drunk who's also nailing a sheet of paper up on the board.
An Ji-Ha:
Being on the run from the law isn't as fun as it sounds. You would know. Sitting in the Roaring Dragon, you constantly glance over whenever the door opens, even though soldiers don't usually enter. For hours, you're ready to spring up as needed, tensing yourself to run at any time.
Time passes, and you slowly calm down. There's a chance they catch you, after all, and there's a chance they don't. It was far away and long ago. No one cares anymore. Those and similar thoughts flash through your head, but you continue to glance, a nervous tic that you just can't shake.
The time in the tavern is slowly uneventful until, just as the sunset gives way to night, a group of new arrivals comes. Glancing around, you realize that they're just a group of students, possibly from a nearby school. But, turning around, you lock eyes with another traveler, a dwarf who anxiously looks at the door as if waiting for someone.
You would have spent more time thinking about what happened - especially with the danger that could result from it - what if they knew what you had done? But as you ponder this, you notice a regular, who you noticed entering earlier shouting the worst sort of ideas - about Jie and lamenting his departure.
(OOC: Once again, thanks all for joining this campaign. Now let's hope I didn't mix up the characters here.)
Lan Shi stays on his stool, rice‑wine untouched, letting the tavern’s sounds wash over him. The drunkard’s praise of Emperor Jie booms like a cracked gong, yet Lan listens for subtler notes: benches scraping as patrons edge away, the innkeeper’s sharp inhale, the hush that foretells fists. Stone‑whorl, his quarterstaff, lies across his knees; a thumb traces each carved ridge—one heartbeat per groove—anchoring breath and patience while dusk settles in coils of hearth‑smoke.
Between those measured pulses his gaze flicks, again and again, to the doorway. Every groan of the hinges tugs at the thread of anticipation he keeps wound tight inside his chest; each time only weary merchants shuffle through, that thread frays a little thinner. Still he watches—eyes half‑lidded but keen—refusing to surrender to the creeping dread that the river‑mist magician might never come. Better to greet disappointment on his feet than let doubt steal the moment should it finally arrive.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Zheng is numb at the mention of old Emperor Jie. The pain of his past greatly overshadows any happiness he might have felt at one time. Zheng being a forgotten man becomes extremely suspicious of anyone that mentions anything of the old empire. Zheng will instinctively try to insight the man to see if he is really drunk. (OOC: do you plan to make a campaign on DDB so that we can roll via our character sheets and have it show up? Insight Roll: 18 )
“I know of no way to bring back the dead. It sounds as if you were lucky in your previous life. I sadly was not lucky enough to have pleasant memories.”
Zheng will pull back the left sleeve of his shirt showing the man the burn scars Zheng received from a fire.
“These are the only memories that have stayed with me. I wish you luck finding your past glory once again but I sadly have nothing worth retrieving from the past.”
Zheng is numb at the mention of old Emperor Jie. The pain of his past greatly overshadows any happiness he might have felt at one time. Zheng being a forgotten man becomes extremely suspicious of anyone that mentions anything of the old empire. Zheng will instinctively try to insight the man to see if he is really drunk. (OOC: do you plan to make a campaign on DDB so that we can roll via our character sheets and have it show up? Insight Roll: 13 )
“I know of no way to bring back the dead. It sounds as if you were lucky in your previous life. I sadly was not lucky enough to have pleasant memories.”
Zheng will pull back the left sleeve of his shirt showing the man the burn scars Zheng received from a fire.
“These are the only memories that have stayed with me. I wish you luck finding your past glory once again but I sadly have nothing worth retrieving from the past.”
As far as Zheng can tell, the man is drunk, spouting these pro-Jie words in his delirium.
"You jest. You do not recognize Jie for the great man that he was." The man becomes more tense, curling his hands into fists. "You would make a fool of me and Jie's empire!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Religious frisbee player, writer, goofball, and nerd. Some may say professional for the latter two.
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Lan Shi feels the tavern’s air tighten like a drumhead as the drunkard’s fists clench and Zheng bares his burn‑scarred arm. A single thought flares bright: if blows land, the river‑mist magician will choose another door and the night’s long vigil will be wasted. He measures the distance, counts three heartbeats on Stone‑whorl’s ridges, and rises—quiet as ash settling—leaving the staff cradled across his forearms to signal peace rather than force.
He crosses to Zheng first, bowing just enough to honor a fellow traveler’s pain. “Old wounds can still trouble the heart,” he says, voice pitched for comfort not command. From his sash he produces a willow‑bark vial, offering a healer’s aid that invites Zheng a step aside. In the same breath he sets a small cup of cool tea before the ranting man without meeting his eyes, a silent balm for tongue and temper alike. With body angled between the two, Lan guides Zheng toward the hearth’s gentler light, intent on letting medicine, not muscle, draw the heat from the moment—preserving the fragile calm a hoped‑for magician might yet cross.
Heng Da disregards the loud drunk for now, and instead finishes his ale, before getting up as if to go get a refill. But his path just so happens to go by the tavern's board, and he tries to catch a quick look of the new paper just being nailed on there.
(Sorry, haven't used rolling from sheet before. Can I link the roll here somehow, or do I just say what my roll was? Now, I got 22 for Perception.)
Zheng seems shocked by the drunk man’s reaction. Giving a nod to Lan, Zheng will slowly move back and give a slight bow to the man.
“I am sorry that I offended you. I was never good with words and it would seem that in my old age I find myself greatly lacking. Please accept my apologies for any anger my words caused.”
(OOC: I plan to have Zheng be 218 years old. Just wanted to ask if Elves in this world have the same lifespan as in D&D. Also once per long rest Zheng can cast false life and give himself temp HP. I am assuming that he always casts it at the end of a long rest to I started with it cast and him having temp HP. Let me know if that is not okay. Also because Zheng switched to a Cleric I am going to say that he worships the God of the Sun.)
Lan inclines his head in silent approval as Zheng withdraws, then lets his eyes slide to the ranting patron just long enough to weigh the man’s pulse without touching him. One practiced breath, two: he notes the set of shoulders, the tremor—or lack of it—in the knotted fists, the cadence of exhalations that follow a mouthful of tea, if he accepts it that is. These small signs, sifted through a healer’s years and a pilgrim’s caution, tell him–hopefully–whether anger is cooling to embers or about to flare anew (Insight 14).
Keeping Stone‑whorl cradled across his forearms, Lan neither speaks nor shifts stance; the quarterstaff’s calm weight reminds both men—and any still‑watchful strangers—that mercy and readiness share the same space. In his periphery he marks the nimble traveler pausing at the notice board but chooses not to divide his focus further. For now, every grain of attention stays on the drunkard’s breathing and Zheng’s retreat, ready to tilt action toward salve or staff should the balance tip.
((Hi @Weslocke! First and foremost, perhaps we should establish a direct message thread for OOC comments because if not messages such as this one will occasionally disrupt the game thread.
Just a few quick notes on Lan Shi. 1) I added a few items to Lan's inventory, just basic supplies that fit his background but I didn't have the time to do that before, I hope it is still ok at this stage.
2) Lan’s familiar: While I’m using the Find Familiar spell as written (CR 0 beast, cast via spell slot or Wild Shape), I flavor the spirit as always present in an invisible, non-physical state—bound to the shattered Lantern he carries. It can’t act, perceive, or interact with others unless I spend the resources to manifest it physically in any allowed shape by casting the spell–and then it will only last until the next long rest (as per rules). Mechanically nothing changes; it's just a thematic choice to reflect that it’s a piece of dragon-qi tied to his backstory, not a random summoned animal. He will occasionally speak to it and it might speak back but only he can hear. Imagine it more or less like a Spren from Brandon Sanderson's Stormlight Archive if you are familiar with that. Let me know if that needs adjusting!))
((Hi @Weslocke! First and foremost, perhaps we should establish a direct message thread for OOC comments because if not messages such as this one will occasionally disrupt the game thread.
Just a few quick notes on Lan Shi. 1) I added a few items to Lan's inventory, just basic supplies that fit his background but I didn't have the time to do that before, I hope it is still ok at this stage.
2) Lan’s familiar: While I’m using the Find Familiar spell as written (CR 0 beast, cast via spell slot or Wild Shape), I flavor the spirit as always present in an invisible, non-physical state—bound to the shattered Lantern he carries. It can’t act, perceive, or interact with others unless I spend the resources to manifest it physically in any allowed shape by casting the spell–and then it will only last until the next long rest (as per rules). Mechanically nothing changes; it's just a thematic choice to reflect that it’s a piece of dragon-qi tied to his backstory, not a random summoned animal. He will occasionally speak to it and it might speak back but only he can hear. Imagine it more or less like a Spren from Brandon Sanderson's Stormlight Archive if you are familiar with that. Let me know if that needs adjusting!))
Heng Da disregards the loud drunk for now, and instead finishes his ale, before getting up as if to go get a refill. But his path just so happens to go by the tavern's board, and he tries to catch a quick look of the new paper just being nailed on there.
(Sorry, haven't used rolling from sheet before. Can I link the roll here somehow, or do I just say what my roll was? Now, I got 22 for Perception.)
(OOC: Just say what your roll was - we can see it in the game log. Also, can I call him Heng, or is it Heng Da?)
Heng springs up, winding his way through the tables. As he passes the young man, whose eyes are still on the brawl, he glances at the sign, peering around the man, who barely notices him. Emblazoning the paper, Heng sees the happy, happy words: "Mercenaries Wanted."
Immediately scanning the rest of the description, Heng realizes there isn't much - just a location "The Bazaar", and a date - two days from now.
Zheng seems shocked by the drunk man’s reaction. Giving a nod to Lan, Zheng will slowly move back and give a slight bow to the man.
“I am sorry that I offended you. I was never good with words and it would seem that in my old age I find myself greatly lacking. Please accept my apologies for any anger my words caused.”
(OOC: I plan to have Zheng be 218 years old. Just wanted to ask if Elves in this world have the same lifespan as in D&D. Also once per long rest Zheng can cast false life and give himself temp HP. I am assuming that he always casts it at the end of a long rest to I started with it cast and him having temp HP. Let me know if that is not okay. Also because Zheng switched to a Cleric I am going to say that he worships the God of the Sun.)
Lan inclines his head in silent approval as Zheng withdraws, then lets his eyes slide to the ranting patron just long enough to weigh the man’s pulse without touching him. One practiced breath, two: he notes the set of shoulders, the tremor—or lack of it—in the knotted fists, the cadence of exhalations that follow a mouthful of tea, if he accepts it that is. These small signs, sifted through a healer’s years and a pilgrim’s caution, tell him–hopefully–whether anger is cooling to embers or about to flare anew (Insight 14).
Keeping Stone‑whorl cradled across his forearms, Lan neither speaks nor shifts stance; the quarterstaff’s calm weight reminds both men—and any still‑watchful strangers—that mercy and readiness share the same space. In his periphery he marks the nimble traveler pausing at the notice board but chooses not to divide his focus further. For now, every grain of attention stays on the drunkard’s breathing and Zheng’s retreat, ready to tilt action toward salve or staff should the balance tip.
The man's fists unclench, and he keeps a watchful eye on both Zheng and Lan -- flicking back between Zheng, tense in case a brawl breaks out, and Lan's lap, where the notched quarterstaff lies, a promise of what will come if he continues. The long silence that follows, patrons with heads turned, still looking towards the man, is deafening. Eventually, he looks up at both of you and mumbles something unintelligible, perhaps an apology, perhaps a curse. Outmatched by opponents who do not simply fight, he stands up, and the door creaks and bangs loudly behind him as he leaves.
A small round of applause echoes around the room, patrons thankful for your service here. The bartender, a balding halfling man with the day's work etched across his face, comes up, offering both of you another drink. "They're on me," he says, sitting down beside you. He turns to Lan, and gratefulness shines in his eyes, a thank-you for this preacher of zen. "My friend. I believe you were looking for someone? It was hard to miss your excitement."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Religious frisbee player, writer, goofball, and nerd. Some may say professional for the latter two.
Extended sig here. Send me a PM if you want to chat.
Lan accepts the tankard with a small bow that turns the room’s applause aside while honoring the halfling’s gift. He lets the cool rim rest against his palm, foam sliding down the staves of wood, but does not yet drink; Stone‑whorl settles once more across his knees, a silent promise that calm will hold.
“Your generosity is noted, good host,” he says, voice low enough for the barkeep and the slender traveller beside him to share. “I wait upon a performer of… uncommon dexterity. Rumour claims their tricks ride on river‑mist—light enough to quicken a crowd, subtle enough to leave no trace.” He drums a finger on the tankard’s hoop‑iron, then tilts his chin toward Heng in quiet invitation. “Might such an entertainer drift through your doors with any regular tide? I ask only to witness the act, nothing more.”
Lan accepts the tankard with a small bow that turns the room’s applause aside while honoring the halfling’s gift. He lets the cool rim rest against his palm, foam sliding down the staves of wood, but does not yet drink; Stone‑whorl settles once more across his knees, a silent promise that calm will hold.
“Your generosity is noted, good host,” he says, voice low enough for the barkeep and the slender traveller beside him to share. “I wait upon a performer of… uncommon dexterity. Rumour claims their tricks ride on river‑mist—light enough to quicken a crowd, subtle enough to leave no trace.” He drums a finger on the tankard’s hoop‑iron, then tilts his chin toward Heng in quiet invitation. “Might such an entertainer drift through your doors with any regular tide? I ask only to witness the act, nothing more.”
The bartender's brow furrows. "A magician, you say? I would not know. I am new to this profession, recently hired to make up for losses in our ranks."
Could you share Zheng's character sheet link?
Super sorry that we had to delay the campaign start.
Religious frisbee player, writer, goofball, and nerd. Some may say professional for the latter two.
Extended sig here. Send me a PM if you want to chat.
DM: Westeros - A Homebrew D&D Campaign, Liquid Swords - A Historical Wuxia Campaign
Player: Marcus Aquillus Arcade (Quil) - 1st Rogue - Pax Romana
High in the crimson‑veined ridges of Long‑Shan, a chain of peaks whispered to shelter the world’s oldest dragons, the reclusive Lantern‑Keepers kept watch.
For untold dynasties they guarded the Amber Lantern, a mausoleum‑shrine said to cradle the soul‑flame of Xianglong the Unending, a river‑dragon whose spirit would one day rekindle and choose a new Emperor.
Apprenticed from childhood, Lan Shi studied the Circle of Dragons: tracing ley‑lines in jade dust, reading the thrum of buried scales in the stone, and brewing tonics that healed body and spirit alike.
Then calamity struck.
An earthquake split the shrine and revealed— not a slumbering titanic heart, but a desiccated coil of bones. The Lantern‑Keepers had been venerating a relic long drained of life.
Betrayed by lineage and legend alike, the young Keeper descended the mountain to Yin, capital of the new Shang Dynasty. Magic is outlawed, dragons are heresy, and yet dragon‑song still echoes in every river bend.
If the lantern’s flame was extinguished, why does the land still hum with draconic currents?
Carrying fragments of the shattered lantern and the healing arts of the old clan, the druid walks the empire in secret, scouring rumor and ruin for the missing spirit of Xianglong— and for the truth behind the Heavenly Mandate that toppled the world.
The search has led, inevitably, to the Roaring Dragon Tavern overlooking the Taihang foothills— a place where soldiers turn blind eyes and secrets flow like wine. Tonight, lantern‑shards rattle in the wanderer’s satchel, eager for answers.
Lan Shi has traced the faint thrum of draconic qi southward for weeks, following tales of an outlawed street‑magician who claims to channel a 'river dragon’s whisper' during secret performances; the rumor says the magician drinks nightly at the Roaring Dragon Tavern, where soldiers dare not intrude. Packed heavy with herbal remedies and the shattered amber shards of his clan’s lantern, Lan Shi slips onto a low stool near the hearth, hoping a bowl of millet wine and a healer’s ready hands will loosen tongues. If this performer truly wields the echo of Xianglong’s spirit, the tavern’s hush of conspirators and fugitives may provide the cover he needs to bargain for answers—or to defend the spark of dragonfire from those who would snuff it out.
|| 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 ||
https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/145726219/jec9Pe
I changed my class to be Ranger/Cleric because my original character was going to be almost identical to Paysien's (A melee warlock).
Well, thanks everyone for submitting characters! We have 4 people, so I think we can start the campaign.
(OOC: Will make a campaign page sometime soon (if I can remember it.))
Lan Shi:
Waiting and watching (somewhat eagerly) for this magician, you begin to feel a sense of dread that they will not show. Each time the door of the tavern opens, the rusted hinges proving their age with small groans and creaks, your head snaps towards the new visitor. When the magician comes, you will know - you just feel it. But none of these regulars seem to be the right one.
Throughout your wait, you begin to look around the tavern, taking in the scene around you. Among these people, you see some who you feel are similar to yourself - travelers. Two humans and an elf, their eyes darting around the tavern, all sitting at tables around the tavern sipping their ale. One of these humans, as the door opens, also nervously glances towards the new arrivals, and you lock eyes for a second before turning away.
Your patient excitement is interrupted by a boisterous shout. You see a drunken man nearly shouting at the elf you saw, spouting all sorts of nonsense.
Zheng:
You simply sip your ale, taking in the room and enjoying the feeling of surviving another day. It's a calm respite from everyday life, which can prove difficult at times. However, a regular next to you, most likely long past drunk, turns to you, breath with the stench of beer. "Don't you just think that these new emperors are plain stupid?" he asks in a loud, slurred voice. He begins to attract the attention of most of the bar. "We should bring back old Emperor Jie. Those were the times! Killing everyone in our path...why, how I miss those days! Don't you agree?"
Heng Da:
You cautiously peer around the tavern, looking for those who might employ you - and become targets for a quick pickpocketing. You've checked the tavern's board, but almost nothing shows up there - planting some trees and fighting a rat infestation are the only papers up there, and even then, they don't pay well.
As you sit, looking around, you suddenly hear a man near you shouting about "old Emperor Jie." The rest of the tavern seems to notice as well, and people turn their heads. As this happens, you see a man who is just turning around to observe the drunk who's also nailing a sheet of paper up on the board.
An Ji-Ha:
Being on the run from the law isn't as fun as it sounds. You would know. Sitting in the Roaring Dragon, you constantly glance over whenever the door opens, even though soldiers don't usually enter. For hours, you're ready to spring up as needed, tensing yourself to run at any time.
Time passes, and you slowly calm down. There's a chance they catch you, after all, and there's a chance they don't. It was far away and long ago. No one cares anymore. Those and similar thoughts flash through your head, but you continue to glance, a nervous tic that you just can't shake.
The time in the tavern is slowly uneventful until, just as the sunset gives way to night, a group of new arrivals comes. Glancing around, you realize that they're just a group of students, possibly from a nearby school. But, turning around, you lock eyes with another traveler, a dwarf who anxiously looks at the door as if waiting for someone.
You would have spent more time thinking about what happened - especially with the danger that could result from it - what if they knew what you had done? But as you ponder this, you notice a regular, who you noticed entering earlier shouting the worst sort of ideas - about Jie and lamenting his departure.
(OOC: Once again, thanks all for joining this campaign. Now let's hope I didn't mix up the characters here.)
Religious frisbee player, writer, goofball, and nerd. Some may say professional for the latter two.
Extended sig here. Send me a PM if you want to chat.
DM: Westeros - A Homebrew D&D Campaign, Liquid Swords - A Historical Wuxia Campaign
Player: Marcus Aquillus Arcade (Quil) - 1st Rogue - Pax Romana
This is looking pretty full for seeking 2 replacements.
But I'll give it a shot if it's still open.
Ability scores: 15 10 10 13 11 13
Lan Shi stays on his stool, rice‑wine untouched, letting the tavern’s sounds wash over him. The drunkard’s praise of Emperor Jie booms like a cracked gong, yet Lan listens for subtler notes: benches scraping as patrons edge away, the innkeeper’s sharp inhale, the hush that foretells fists. Stone‑whorl, his quarterstaff, lies across his knees; a thumb traces each carved ridge—one heartbeat per groove—anchoring breath and patience while dusk settles in coils of hearth‑smoke.
Between those measured pulses his gaze flicks, again and again, to the doorway. Every groan of the hinges tugs at the thread of anticipation he keeps wound tight inside his chest; each time only weary merchants shuffle through, that thread frays a little thinner. Still he watches—eyes half‑lidded but keen—refusing to surrender to the creeping dread that the river‑mist magician might never come. Better to greet disappointment on his feet than let doubt steal the moment should it finally arrive.
|| 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 ||
If you can make a character & post it to here before the end of the day tomorrow, I can count you in.
Religious frisbee player, writer, goofball, and nerd. Some may say professional for the latter two.
Extended sig here. Send me a PM if you want to chat.
DM: Westeros - A Homebrew D&D Campaign, Liquid Swords - A Historical Wuxia Campaign
Player: Marcus Aquillus Arcade (Quil) - 1st Rogue - Pax Romana
Zheng is numb at the mention of old Emperor Jie. The pain of his past greatly overshadows any happiness he might have felt at one time. Zheng being a forgotten man becomes extremely suspicious of anyone that mentions anything of the old empire. Zheng will instinctively try to insight the man to see if he is really drunk. (OOC: do you plan to make a campaign on DDB so that we can roll via our character sheets and have it show up? Insight Roll: 18 )
“I know of no way to bring back the dead. It sounds as if you were lucky in your previous life. I sadly was not lucky enough to have pleasant memories.”
Zheng will pull back the left sleeve of his shirt showing the man the burn scars Zheng received from a fire.
“These are the only memories that have stayed with me. I wish you luck finding your past glory once again but I sadly have nothing worth retrieving from the past.”
(OOC: Yep - that's my plan. Speaking of which, the campaign link: https://www.dndbeyond.com/campaigns/join/66603322238025172)
As far as Zheng can tell, the man is drunk, spouting these pro-Jie words in his delirium.
"You jest. You do not recognize Jie for the great man that he was." The man becomes more tense, curling his hands into fists. "You would make a fool of me and Jie's empire!"
Religious frisbee player, writer, goofball, and nerd. Some may say professional for the latter two.
Extended sig here. Send me a PM if you want to chat.
DM: Westeros - A Homebrew D&D Campaign, Liquid Swords - A Historical Wuxia Campaign
Player: Marcus Aquillus Arcade (Quil) - 1st Rogue - Pax Romana
Lan Shi feels the tavern’s air tighten like a drumhead as the drunkard’s fists clench and Zheng bares his burn‑scarred arm. A single thought flares bright: if blows land, the river‑mist magician will choose another door and the night’s long vigil will be wasted. He measures the distance, counts three heartbeats on Stone‑whorl’s ridges, and rises—quiet as ash settling—leaving the staff cradled across his forearms to signal peace rather than force.
He crosses to Zheng first, bowing just enough to honor a fellow traveler’s pain. “Old wounds can still trouble the heart,” he says, voice pitched for comfort not command. From his sash he produces a willow‑bark vial, offering a healer’s aid that invites Zheng a step aside. In the same breath he sets a small cup of cool tea before the ranting man without meeting his eyes, a silent balm for tongue and temper alike. With body angled between the two, Lan guides Zheng toward the hearth’s gentler light, intent on letting medicine, not muscle, draw the heat from the moment—preserving the fragile calm a hoped‑for magician might yet cross.
|| 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 ||
I've made a character, human Sorceress, criminal background (since magic is illegal) & I'll post it when I get home
Heng Da disregards the loud drunk for now, and instead finishes his ale, before getting up as if to go get a refill. But his path just so happens to go by the tavern's board, and he tries to catch a quick look of the new paper just being nailed on there.
(Sorry, haven't used rolling from sheet before. Can I link the roll here somehow, or do I just say what my roll was? Now, I got 22 for Perception.)
Zheng seems shocked by the drunk man’s reaction. Giving a nod to Lan, Zheng will slowly move back and give a slight bow to the man.
“I am sorry that I offended you. I was never good with words and it would seem that in my old age I find myself greatly lacking. Please accept my apologies for any anger my words caused.”
(OOC: I plan to have Zheng be 218 years old. Just wanted to ask if Elves in this world have the same lifespan as in D&D. Also once per long rest Zheng can cast false life and give himself temp HP. I am assuming that he always casts it at the end of a long rest to I started with it cast and him having temp HP. Let me know if that is not okay. Also because Zheng switched to a Cleric I am going to say that he worships the God of the Sun.)
Lan inclines his head in silent approval as Zheng withdraws, then lets his eyes slide to the ranting patron just long enough to weigh the man’s pulse without touching him. One practiced breath, two: he notes the set of shoulders, the tremor—or lack of it—in the knotted fists, the cadence of exhalations that follow a mouthful of tea, if he accepts it that is. These small signs, sifted through a healer’s years and a pilgrim’s caution, tell him–hopefully–whether anger is cooling to embers or about to flare anew (Insight 14).
Keeping Stone‑whorl cradled across his forearms, Lan neither speaks nor shifts stance; the quarterstaff’s calm weight reminds both men—and any still‑watchful strangers—that mercy and readiness share the same space. In his periphery he marks the nimble traveler pausing at the notice board but chooses not to divide his focus further. For now, every grain of attention stays on the drunkard’s breathing and Zheng’s retreat, ready to tilt action toward salve or staff should the balance tip.
|| 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 ||
((Hi @Weslocke! First and foremost, perhaps we should establish a direct message thread for OOC comments because if not messages such as this one will occasionally disrupt the game thread.
Just a few quick notes on Lan Shi.
1) I added a few items to Lan's inventory, just basic supplies that fit his background but I didn't have the time to do that before, I hope it is still ok at this stage.
2) Lan’s familiar: While I’m using the Find Familiar spell as written (CR 0 beast, cast via spell slot or Wild Shape), I flavor the spirit as always present in an invisible, non-physical state—bound to the shattered Lantern he carries. It can’t act, perceive, or interact with others unless I spend the resources to manifest it physically in any allowed shape by casting the spell–and then it will only last until the next long rest (as per rules). Mechanically nothing changes; it's just a thematic choice to reflect that it’s a piece of dragon-qi tied to his backstory, not a random summoned animal. He will occasionally speak to it and it might speak back but only he can hear. Imagine it more or less like a Spren from Brandon Sanderson's Stormlight Archive if you are familiar with that. Let me know if that needs adjusting!))
|| 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 ||
(OOC: Made an OOC thread - https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/dungeons-dragons-discussion/play-by-post/220309-liquid-swords-ooc-thread. Responding to your post in there.)
Religious frisbee player, writer, goofball, and nerd. Some may say professional for the latter two.
Extended sig here. Send me a PM if you want to chat.
DM: Westeros - A Homebrew D&D Campaign, Liquid Swords - A Historical Wuxia Campaign
Player: Marcus Aquillus Arcade (Quil) - 1st Rogue - Pax Romana
(OOC: Just say what your roll was - we can see it in the game log. Also, can I call him Heng, or is it Heng Da?)
Heng springs up, winding his way through the tables. As he passes the young man, whose eyes are still on the brawl, he glances at the sign, peering around the man, who barely notices him. Emblazoning the paper, Heng sees the happy, happy words: "Mercenaries Wanted."
Immediately scanning the rest of the description, Heng realizes there isn't much - just a location "The Bazaar", and a date - two days from now.
Religious frisbee player, writer, goofball, and nerd. Some may say professional for the latter two.
Extended sig here. Send me a PM if you want to chat.
DM: Westeros - A Homebrew D&D Campaign, Liquid Swords - A Historical Wuxia Campaign
Player: Marcus Aquillus Arcade (Quil) - 1st Rogue - Pax Romana
The man's fists unclench, and he keeps a watchful eye on both Zheng and Lan -- flicking back between Zheng, tense in case a brawl breaks out, and Lan's lap, where the notched quarterstaff lies, a promise of what will come if he continues. The long silence that follows, patrons with heads turned, still looking towards the man, is deafening. Eventually, he looks up at both of you and mumbles something unintelligible, perhaps an apology, perhaps a curse. Outmatched by opponents who do not simply fight, he stands up, and the door creaks and bangs loudly behind him as he leaves.
A small round of applause echoes around the room, patrons thankful for your service here. The bartender, a balding halfling man with the day's work etched across his face, comes up, offering both of you another drink. "They're on me," he says, sitting down beside you. He turns to Lan, and gratefulness shines in his eyes, a thank-you for this preacher of zen. "My friend. I believe you were looking for someone? It was hard to miss your excitement."
Religious frisbee player, writer, goofball, and nerd. Some may say professional for the latter two.
Extended sig here. Send me a PM if you want to chat.
DM: Westeros - A Homebrew D&D Campaign, Liquid Swords - A Historical Wuxia Campaign
Player: Marcus Aquillus Arcade (Quil) - 1st Rogue - Pax Romana
Lan accepts the tankard with a small bow that turns the room’s applause aside while honoring the halfling’s gift. He lets the cool rim rest against his palm, foam sliding down the staves of wood, but does not yet drink; Stone‑whorl settles once more across his knees, a silent promise that calm will hold.
“Your generosity is noted, good host,” he says, voice low enough for the barkeep and the slender traveller beside him to share. “I wait upon a performer of… uncommon dexterity. Rumour claims their tricks ride on river‑mist—light enough to quicken a crowd, subtle enough to leave no trace.” He drums a finger on the tankard’s hoop‑iron, then tilts his chin toward Heng in quiet invitation. “Might such an entertainer drift through your doors with any regular tide? I ask only to witness the act, nothing more.”
|| 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 ||
The bartender's brow furrows. "A magician, you say? I would not know. I am new to this profession, recently hired to make up for losses in our ranks."
Religious frisbee player, writer, goofball, and nerd. Some may say professional for the latter two.
Extended sig here. Send me a PM if you want to chat.
DM: Westeros - A Homebrew D&D Campaign, Liquid Swords - A Historical Wuxia Campaign
Player: Marcus Aquillus Arcade (Quil) - 1st Rogue - Pax Romana