"My daughter, these past few weeks I have hearing disturbing things." the old man looked at Shayla with warm brown eyes.
"What kinds of things father?" Shayla looked up from her studies.
"Oh you know the kinds of things that I was trying to get you away from when I found you?" he smiles and shakes his head with a regretful smile. "You gave those things up yes?"
"Of course! I've been clean since I joined the church." she blows a wayward lock of hair out of her face.
The priest nods, "Well I think it would be a good idea if you went to the temple of Bahamut and made an offering."
"Sure thing father, I'll pack right away." closing her book.
"Remember, Strength of Heart, Strength of Mind, Strength of Body."
"Yes father," and she knocked elbows with the surprisingly muscular arms of the man who literally saved her life.
She took his words to heart and helped save a small island community of holy folk then set sail for greater adventure. The ship sailed into a mist and things became fuzzy after that.
Sheet:Vaelar Lorynwen Alignment: Neutral Good Class: Ranger (Hollow Warden) Race: Dhampir Backstory: Vaelar Lorynwen was born in the shadowed glades where the forests of the Material Plane fray into the mists of Barovia. A quiet, steady soul, he made his life as a hunter and fisherman, providing for his family and kin who eked out a living on the perilous border of that cursed realm. The elders of his wood elf enclave taught their children to avoid the deeper parts of the forest, where the trees grew unnaturally still and the light seemed forever twilight. But one fateful morning, while tracking an injured elk, Vaelar crossed that unseen threshold and found something far worse than any beast.
The vampire fell upon him with the suddenness of nightfall, its fangs sinking deep before Vaelar could even cry out. He fought, survived, and escaped back into the trees, bloodied but alive. Or so he thought. In the days that followed, the change took root. He no longer needed to breathe. His senses sharpened cruelly. Food tasted like ash in his mouth. When the light reflected just so in his eyes, a vicious red gleam was obvious. His people recognised the taint before he did. Their horror turned to fear, and fear to rejection. Shunned and cast out, Vaelar vanished into the forest once more, but he never strayed far.
Now a solitary figure cloaked in the dusk, Vaelar watches over the village that once was home. He lives among the roots and rivers, a silent guardian resisting the beast within. By night he patrols the treeline, warding off wandering shadows with arrow and fang alike. His hunger is a constant battle, but he clings to the memory of who he was: a brother, a son, a protector. Though his people may never welcome him again, Vaelar endures, determined to be the last line of defense against the dark, even as he fears becoming part of it.
Name:Lorelei Dawnwarden Alignment: Neutral Good Race: Human Class: Cleric (Light) Background: Sage Backstory: Daughter to a poor farmer, young Lorelei was left at a young age to a monastary dedicated to the Dawnfather. While working hard the girl was also taught to read and write, and soon she was found at the monastary library late in the evenings. Later she would assist in transcribing documents and not long after that whole books. She studied broadly and diligently but more than her academic pursuits she was noticed for an insightfulness uncharateristic for her young age. One fateful late evening an old man arrived at the monastary, Signore Amauro Guardiano dell'Alba, a prominent servant of the Morninglord who immediately recognized the potential in young Lorelei, and the next morning the two of them were on the road, travelling to do the Dawnbringer's work, helping those in need across the land, all the while her new mentor taking care of her education, whether it was academia, spiritual, magical or martial training. In time Lorelei became a trusted assistant and advisor to the old man. During a recent journey the two became separated in a misty forest and Lorelei now finds herself without her mentor for the first time since they left the monastary soem years ago. She has vowed to herself to continue their work and uphold his creed while she searches for her mentor.
race: Shahar Kai (some mods to backstory forthcoming)
backstory: Illmirth Vae'Drynn knew a tough crowd when he saw one, and this was not a tough crowd. Half of the small inn's patrons eyed the ashy skinned drow with trepidation, the other half with cautious curiosity. A steady roll of enchanted drumbeats quieted the group; he knew he had them fifteen seconds into his performance. Ill, as his wicked half-sisters called him, suffered more than boos when he failed to entertain them as a child. Considered too puny and stupid to be of any value to the minor noble drow house of Vae'Drynn, he was allowed to live as long as he entertained the priestesses and kept the family's small shrine to Lloth meticulously clean. He learned many useful skills in his time in the drow city of Chauissin; how to avoid detection, how to persuade others (daily begging for your life or for beatings to end will help hone this skill), and how to use music to shape the weave. Often alone with his thoughts, he found comfort in the sound of his own voice, so he sang. One fateful day he overheard Matron Vae'Drynn speaking with his eldest sister. He was to celebrate his coming of age by serving his family as a Drider. His wicked mother had finally thought of a use for "Ill", and he had precious few tendays remaining. At the first opportunity, Illmirth took what he could carry and fled into the vast, terrifying Underdark. He was guided by fate, good fortune, and strange dreams. Although he faced many trials, Illmirth persevered. And then one day, as if he was kissed on the cheek by Tymora herself, he felt the gentle breeze. The tears that ran freely down his cheeks when he first saw the majesty of the rising sun were the last he would surrender to his former life. Challenges, obstacles, and opportunities awaited him now; the road beneath his feet and a song on his lips. (When he left his home he had the ebony skin common among the drow. When he reached the surface many months later, his skin tone had softened to an ashier gray.)
Backstory: As a child, Corina's village was raided and by a rampaging anarchist cult. The young girl survived through her own natural ferocity, taking the lives of three full grown cultists before earning enough respect to be spared. She was apprehended, taken as an involuntary acolyte to the god of violence. She was steeped in the cult's dogma and weened on the blood of the cult's victims... and yet she refused to allow her heart to turn. Even after she was conscripted into the ranks of the cult's raiders she remembered who she was by listing the names of her family members. For years she put villages to the torch while secretly protecting the villagers, using the fog of war to murder the strongest and most dangerous members of her cult in secret. In that time she committed atrocities that tarnished her soul for all eternity.
It took nearly a decade before she finally found her moment to get her revenge and her freedom. Using her increasing influence, she guided the cult into an ambush by a bloodthirsty gnoll tribe. The bloodletting was immediate and complete. Corina barely escaped with her life, stumbling into the woods where she was found by a tribe of druids and nursed to health. The druids cared for her body and soul, but some wounds will never be healed. The High Druid encouraged her to seek redemption through action. So she has devoted herself to seeking out those in need and lending aid where she can... while also unable to shake the thirst for violence that guided her existence for so long.
Let's see what the dice have in store for me: Ability scores: 141411171714
Rolled somewhere else for this character idea already, if you want me to roll anew let me know.
Name: Thamul Valu-Nathala Race: Goliath (Frost) Sheet: https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/145658008/Cqkpfy Class: Fighter 1/(Hunter) Ranger 2 Background: Soldier Backstory: Thamul grew up in the cold mountains and was thought to fight from a young age. Before he even started training it was clear he was really good at axe throwing games (can we reflavor darts?:P). And when he started to train to become a soldier for his clan he therefore went to perfect that craft. his skills with throwing where also very usefull during hunting for food. Unfortunately his tribe was attacked by the giant nearby when he was on one of these hunts. He came back and all and everyone was gone, which is why he decided to leave the mountains to find a new purpose, and maybe a new tribe. Which is how he came to be here, in Ravenloft looking to use his skills.
Focus: This character is gonna be all about throwing his weapons, Ideally Ill have a quiver of Ehlonna to explain the amount of weapons on him; although carrying capacity isn't an issue either^^.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"grandpa" Salkur, Gnome Arti/Sorc: Forged in Chaos | Pepin, Human Arti/Cleric: Goblin horde | Mixtli, Volc Genasi Arti: Champions of the Citadel | Erix Vadalitis, Human Druid: Rising from the last war |Smithy, Human Arti: Night Ravens: Black orchids for Biscotti | Tamphalic Aliprax, Dragonborn Wizard: Chronicles of the Accursed | Doc, Dwarven Cleric (2024): Adventure at Hope's End | Abathax, Tiefling Illriger: Hunt for the Balowang | Gorin Mestel, Human Arti: Descend into Avernus
This game has sources from Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft, Curse of Strahd , and The Wedding at Ravenloft, as well as Monsters of the Multiverse. Sadly I can not share as they are all hard copies.
Class: Warlock; Patron: The undead (Kas the Bloody-Handed)
Race: Dhampir
Backstory: For as long as she could remember, Fons had been held captive by a group of vampires, in a cottage at the edge of the woods. She doesn't know if she was born there, or perhaps taken from the nearby town when very young, but she could recall no life outside that of being a source of blood, kept, and drained whenever the group was unable to hunt; Nor could she remember any name other than that which they had given her, which translates roughly to 'blood-source'. She was certainly cared for. When things were going well, the vampires would bring her toys, trinkets, even gorgeous clothes from their hunts. She tried not to think about where these gifts had come from, or why some of them were stained red.
Despite the surface level kindness shown to her on occasion, there was never any doubt of her place. She was their pet when they were in a good mood, but little more than a blood bank when times were lean. Growing up, she had been nearly drained repeatedly, brought to the brink of death, only to be nursed back to health. By the time she was 16, she was pale, dark circles around her eyes a constant fixture on her face. She was exhausted all the time, lacking the will to resist her captors, even if she'd had the strength to be able to.
Everything changed one night. She had no way of knowing, but it was her birthday, and she'd just turned 18. She was laying weakly in the cot her captors had provided for her, slipping in and out of consciousness, her body freshly drained. She had begun to hallucinate in her delirium, whispers playing in her ears, dark figures flitting in and out of the corners of her vision. Suddenly, one of the whispers became... louder. More legible. She couldn't explain it, it was like the person speaking was kneeling next to her, right in her ear. She was frightened, worried that perhaps this time, they'd taken too much, but was still too weak to move. The voice spoke of freedom, of vengeance. It offered her power, the power to do as she pleased, to keep herself alive. Power enough that none would ever touch her again.
She could feel her limbs growing heavier, her heart pounding. Her vision was fading, no matter how hard she fought to stay conscious. As the darkness crept closer, the voice aske once again for her answer. Desperation growing, that deep seated need to just stay alive overriding every other thought, she parted her dry, trembling lips and uttered one word.
"yes"
It was barley a whisper, but it was enough. She could feel strength returning to her body, but more than that, she could feel her hunger. A violent, clawing thing, hunger she'd never felt before, now filled every thought. She managed to sit up, and in the next instant, everything went black. When she came to, she was in an unfamiliar room, covered in blood. No, not just a room, a house. Three bodies lay scattered around her, and a fourth was right in front of her. She looks at her hands, buried deep in the deceased wounds. She could feel the still warm blood trickling from her chin. The hunger was silent.
She sat like that, frozen with shock, for a good ten minutes. It wasn't until she heard the cries of a baby in the next room that she snapped out of her trance. Her eyes went wide as the realization of what she had done, of what she might've done if she hadn't come to, hit her all at once. She ran blindly, disappearing into the mists that surrounded the town that night. She ran from herself, from her actions, not daring to look back.
That was several years ago. After that night, she had found herself, somehow, in Barovia, in the shadow of Castle Ravenloft. She's survived since then mostly by remaining in the shadows, though occasionally by using her powers, powers she barley understands. She tries to keep her hunger in check, attempting to feed off of animals when she can. When the urge to feed does become overwhelming, she tries to target those she feels are deserving.
She doesn't really get that she's no longer on the materiel plane, but is observant enough to notice how the mist at the edges of the town never dissipates. Not that it matters to her. She's just trying to survive as long as she can, while trying not to draw attention to herself. Every choice she makes is a struggle between her desire to be merciful, hoping to retain some of her humanity, and her willingness to do whatever it takes to survive.
She is unsure if her Dhampire nature is from the deal she made, or simply the result of how long and how often she'd been on the edge of death from being drained. But she is determined to find a cure. Every time she is forced to feed, she worries she's one step closer to becoming one of the monsters that stole her childhood. She passes as human, albeit a pale, malnourished human, as long as she doesn't let herself get too hungry.
I was wondering if she could start with one of the dark gifts outlined in Guide to Ravenloft, and if you were planning on using the optional fear and stress rules. Let me know, I'd love to discuss the details in dms.
Link to character sheet:Crisaryn Melkial Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Class: Sorcerer (Draconic Bloodline) Race: Human
Backstory:
Crisaryn leads a quiet life, mostly alone, wandering from place to place. More recently she has used her magic to do enough small jobs to get along. But she never stays anywhere long before moving to a new place. It seems that's how she likes it. Nobody seems to know her or where she really came from.
Where she came from is a bit of mystery to her as well. When very young, barely a toddler, both Crisaryn and her family were abducted by a group of dragonborn. They were to serve as slaves - though at her age she was not very helpful in that regard. Her parents, barely remembered now, were taken off to serve in more physical tasks. She doesn't recall any siblings, though she honestly isn't sure if maybe she just forgot. It doesn't really seem that important to her.
For some reason, her captors kept her and other younger captives together. They were severely treated and conditioned to always obey every order. Though mostly hidden, she still has many scars on her body. And of course, burned into her memory. It seemed that for at least some of them, their intention had been to teach them magic. As best as she can imagine now, perhaps it was to have a subservient arcane fighting force. Crisaryn was really not smart enough to grasp the wizardly concepts they tried to impart on her. But through willpower and her innate power, she seemed to be able to accomplish some of the simpler tasks they were asked to do.
As she got older though it got harder and harder to cover for her failings. But unbeknownst to her teachers and captors, her power was slowly growing anyhow. There were also tell-tale signs of her heritage that started to show. The first were a few small golden scales along her shoulders. More obvious, her eyes, always a bit pale in color, were becoming more and more yellow. Some of her friends noticed and began asking her questions that she couldn't really answer. But at least her captors had not noticed yet.
With a little more time, more scales grew in along her upper arms and her magic grew. She realized she could perform spells that her teachers had not even tried to teach her. But as light golden scales started to appear at the back of her neck, she knew it would soon be discovered. She could hardly believe that it hadn't been seen so far. It scared her, but she knew she had to either admit her condition to the dragonborn who held her or use this power to escape. The choice haunted her, her treatment over the years had taught her to obey. But a few of her other friends convinced her to do it.
And it worked, mostly. Crisaryn escaped at least. And one other, a goblin girl. The two were separated during the flight from the fortress where they were located. But three others were killed. Plus, in the back of her mind, she suspected that many of the other children who were left were likely punished for the escape. It troubled her, but she didn't look back.
From that time, she mainly lived on the streets. At first, she thought she would find her goblin friend. It pushed her to go from place to place, but she never did find her. Her magic helped some. And she eventually realized, as he scales grew in, that they helped protect her. She usually avoided outright robbery but wasn't above that if the need arose. Whatever it took to keep her from going hungry. She could fight, protect herself, and things seemed to be going well. But she never felt comfortable anywhere. Today, she still is a bit unnerved by the sight of any dragonborn. And she now and then finds herself looking over her shoulder for someone coming after her.
Portrait
Time Zone: Pacific (GMT-7)
Quick Note: I used Homebrew for the Background and for the Lucky feat that goes with the Background. I have the 2024 Players Handbook physically but not here in DnD Beyond. They should be exactly as presented in the book.
DM Curse of Stradt and The Wedding in Ravenloft have dark themes of dominance, sex and death. These are not suitable in my opinion for under 18s.
Sorry no Homebrew. We have two Dhampirs and they had character sheets for that race so I am at a loss that you can't find it, murphys law.
Aberrant Dragonmark is from Eberron and is up to the DM to say yeah or nay. I'm afraid that I'd say nay as you are creating a new character for CoS, not using one from a past adventure in Eberron.
Jendra
https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/145932185/paks49
Lawful Neutral, Fighter (Psi Warrior), Goliath
Backstory WIP
Timezone: Eastern USA
Coriana - Company of the Grey Chain
Wagner - Dragon Heist: Bards.
DM - The Old Keep
Link to character sheet: https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/127775225/IGFADL Basically the same character from your Stormwreck Isle game updated to 2024 and down graded to lvl 3 =)
alignment: Chaotic Good
class : Cleric 1, Monk 2
race : Human
backstory :
"My daughter, these past few weeks I have hearing disturbing things." the old man looked at Shayla with warm brown eyes.
"What kinds of things father?" Shayla looked up from her studies.
"Oh you know the kinds of things that I was trying to get you away from when I found you?" he smiles and shakes his head with a regretful smile. "You gave those things up yes?"
"Of course! I've been clean since I joined the church." she blows a wayward lock of hair out of her face.
The priest nods, "Well I think it would be a good idea if you went to the temple of Bahamut and made an offering."
"Sure thing father, I'll pack right away." closing her book.
"Remember, Strength of Heart, Strength of Mind, Strength of Body."
"Yes father," and she knocked elbows with the surprisingly muscular arms of the man who literally saved her life.
She took his words to heart and helped save a small island community of holy folk then set sail for greater adventure. The ship sailed into a mist and things became fuzzy after that.
portrait :
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
Ability scores: 15 11 14 16 13 16
Sheet: Vaelar Lorynwen
Alignment: Neutral Good
Class: Ranger (Hollow Warden)
Race: Dhampir
Backstory: Vaelar Lorynwen was born in the shadowed glades where the forests of the Material Plane fray into the mists of Barovia. A quiet, steady soul, he made his life as a hunter and fisherman, providing for his family and kin who eked out a living on the perilous border of that cursed realm. The elders of his wood elf enclave taught their children to avoid the deeper parts of the forest, where the trees grew unnaturally still and the light seemed forever twilight. But one fateful morning, while tracking an injured elk, Vaelar crossed that unseen threshold and found something far worse than any beast.
The vampire fell upon him with the suddenness of nightfall, its fangs sinking deep before Vaelar could even cry out. He fought, survived, and escaped back into the trees, bloodied but alive. Or so he thought. In the days that followed, the change took root. He no longer needed to breathe. His senses sharpened cruelly. Food tasted like ash in his mouth. When the light reflected just so in his eyes, a vicious red gleam was obvious. His people recognised the taint before he did. Their horror turned to fear, and fear to rejection. Shunned and cast out, Vaelar vanished into the forest once more, but he never strayed far.
Now a solitary figure cloaked in the dusk, Vaelar watches over the village that once was home. He lives among the roots and rivers, a silent guardian resisting the beast within. By night he patrols the treeline, warding off wandering shadows with arrow and fang alike. His hunger is a constant battle, but he clings to the memory of who he was: a brother, a son, a protector. Though his people may never welcome him again, Vaelar endures, determined to be the last line of defense against the dark, even as he fears becoming part of it.
Portrait:
Name: Lorelei Dawnwarden
Alignment: Neutral Good
Race: Human
Class: Cleric (Light)
Background: Sage
Backstory: Daughter to a poor farmer, young Lorelei was left at a young age to a monastary dedicated to the Dawnfather. While working hard the girl was also taught to read and write, and soon she was found at the monastary library late in the evenings. Later she would assist in transcribing documents and not long after that whole books. She studied broadly and diligently but more than her academic pursuits she was noticed for an insightfulness uncharateristic for her young age. One fateful late evening an old man arrived at the monastary, Signore Amauro Guardiano dell'Alba, a prominent servant of the Morninglord who immediately recognized the potential in young Lorelei, and the next morning the two of them were on the road, travelling to do the Dawnbringer's work, helping those in need across the land, all the while her new mentor taking care of her education, whether it was academia, spiritual, magical or martial training. In time Lorelei became a trusted assistant and advisor to the old man. During a recent journey the two became separated in a misty forest and Lorelei now finds herself without her mentor for the first time since they left the monastary soem years ago. She has vowed to herself to continue their work and uphold his creed while she searches for her mentor.
Lorelei Dawnwarden
Portrait
Link to character sheet: https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/145924686/Ch3A7Z
alignment: GC
class: Bard / possible warlock dip
race: Shahar Kai (some mods to backstory forthcoming)
backstory: Illmirth Vae'Drynn knew a tough crowd when he saw one, and this was not a tough crowd. Half of the small inn's patrons eyed the ashy skinned drow with trepidation, the other half with cautious curiosity. A steady roll of enchanted drumbeats quieted the group; he knew he had them fifteen seconds into his performance.
Ill, as his wicked half-sisters called him, suffered more than boos when he failed to entertain them as a child. Considered too puny and stupid to be of any value to the minor noble drow house of Vae'Drynn, he was allowed to live as long as he entertained the priestesses and kept the family's small shrine to Lloth meticulously clean.
He learned many useful skills in his time in the drow city of Chauissin; how to avoid detection, how to persuade others (daily begging for your life or for beatings to end will help hone this skill), and how to use music to shape the weave. Often alone with his thoughts, he found comfort in the sound of his own voice, so he sang.
One fateful day he overheard Matron Vae'Drynn speaking with his eldest sister. He was to celebrate his coming of age by serving his family as a Drider. His wicked mother had finally thought of a use for "Ill", and he had precious few tendays remaining.
At the first opportunity, Illmirth took what he could carry and fled into the vast, terrifying Underdark.
He was guided by fate, good fortune, and strange dreams. Although he faced many trials, Illmirth persevered. And then one day, as if he was kissed on the cheek by Tymora herself, he felt the gentle breeze.
The tears that ran freely down his cheeks when he first saw the majesty of the rising sun were the last he would surrender to his former life. Challenges, obstacles, and opportunities awaited him now; the road beneath his feet and a song on his lips.
(When he left his home he had the ebony skin common among the drow. When he reached the surface many months later, his skin tone had softened to an ashier gray.)
portrait: wierd error messages 15, began772003 successfully posting a picture 0
Posting is a minimum of twice a day: no problem
***********************************************************************
Real chance of character death: I believe that's the Barovian motto.
time zone: CST
18+: yes
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Ability scores: 17 14 15 12 14 11
DM - Classic Adventures Reborn
Wendyl - L1 Halfling Wizard - Owlbear's Baldur's Gate: Descent into Avernus
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Name: Corina
Character Sheet: https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/144045308
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Class: Barbarian - Path of the Berserker
Race: Human
Backstory: As a child, Corina's village was raided and by a rampaging anarchist cult. The young girl survived through her own natural ferocity, taking the lives of three full grown cultists before earning enough respect to be spared. She was apprehended, taken as an involuntary acolyte to the god of violence. She was steeped in the cult's dogma and weened on the blood of the cult's victims... and yet she refused to allow her heart to turn. Even after she was conscripted into the ranks of the cult's raiders she remembered who she was by listing the names of her family members. For years she put villages to the torch while secretly protecting the villagers, using the fog of war to murder the strongest and most dangerous members of her cult in secret. In that time she committed atrocities that tarnished her soul for all eternity.
It took nearly a decade before she finally found her moment to get her revenge and her freedom. Using her increasing influence, she guided the cult into an ambush by a bloodthirsty gnoll tribe. The bloodletting was immediate and complete. Corina barely escaped with her life, stumbling into the woods where she was found by a tribe of druids and nursed to health. The druids cared for her body and soul, but some wounds will never be healed. The High Druid encouraged her to seek redemption through action. So she has devoted herself to seeking out those in need and lending aid where she can... while also unable to shake the thirst for violence that guided her existence for so long.
DM - Classic Adventures Reborn
Wendyl - L1 Halfling Wizard - Owlbear's Baldur's Gate: Descent into Avernus
Ability scores: 12 13 16 14 13 12
Rolled somewhere else for this character idea already, if you want me to roll anew let me know.
Name: Thamul Valu-Nathala
Race: Goliath (Frost)
Sheet: https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/145658008/Cqkpfy
Class: Fighter 1/(Hunter) Ranger 2
Background: Soldier
Backstory: Thamul grew up in the cold mountains and was thought to fight from a young age. Before he even started training it was clear he was really good at axe throwing games (can we reflavor darts?:P). And when he started to train to become a soldier for his clan he therefore went to perfect that craft. his skills with throwing where also very usefull during hunting for food. Unfortunately his tribe was attacked by the giant nearby when he was on one of these hunts. He came back and all and everyone was gone, which is why he decided to leave the mountains to find a new purpose, and maybe a new tribe. Which is how he came to be here, in Ravenloft looking to use his skills.
Focus: This character is gonna be all about throwing his weapons, Ideally Ill have a quiver of Ehlonna to explain the amount of weapons on him; although carrying capacity isn't an issue either^^.
"grandpa" Salkur, Gnome Arti/Sorc: Forged in Chaos | Pepin, Human Arti/Cleric: Goblin horde | Mixtli, Volc Genasi Arti: Champions of the Citadel | Erix Vadalitis, Human Druid: Rising from the last war | Smithy, Human Arti: Night Ravens: Black orchids for Biscotti | Tamphalic Aliprax, Dragonborn Wizard: Chronicles of the Accursed | Doc, Dwarven Cleric (2024): Adventure at Hope's End | Abathax, Tiefling Illriger: Hunt for the Balowang | Gorin Mestel, Human Arti: Descend into Avernus
FYI
This game has sources from Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft, Curse of Strahd , and The Wedding at Ravenloft, as well as Monsters of the Multiverse. Sadly I can not share as they are all hard copies.
Name: Sanguis Fons (Goes by Fons)
https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/145952509/1wqW0O
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Class: Warlock; Patron: The undead (Kas the Bloody-Handed)
Race: Dhampir
Backstory: For as long as she could remember, Fons had been held captive by a group of vampires, in a cottage at the edge of the woods. She doesn't know if she was born there, or perhaps taken from the nearby town when very young, but she could recall no life outside that of being a source of blood, kept, and drained whenever the group was unable to hunt; Nor could she remember any name other than that which they had given her, which translates roughly to 'blood-source'. She was certainly cared for. When things were going well, the vampires would bring her toys, trinkets, even gorgeous clothes from their hunts. She tried not to think about where these gifts had come from, or why some of them were stained red.
Despite the surface level kindness shown to her on occasion, there was never any doubt of her place. She was their pet when they were in a good mood, but little more than a blood bank when times were lean. Growing up, she had been nearly drained repeatedly, brought to the brink of death, only to be nursed back to health. By the time she was 16, she was pale, dark circles around her eyes a constant fixture on her face. She was exhausted all the time, lacking the will to resist her captors, even if she'd had the strength to be able to.
Everything changed one night. She had no way of knowing, but it was her birthday, and she'd just turned 18. She was laying weakly in the cot her captors had provided for her, slipping in and out of consciousness, her body freshly drained. She had begun to hallucinate in her delirium, whispers playing in her ears, dark figures flitting in and out of the corners of her vision. Suddenly, one of the whispers became... louder. More legible. She couldn't explain it, it was like the person speaking was kneeling next to her, right in her ear. She was frightened, worried that perhaps this time, they'd taken too much, but was still too weak to move. The voice spoke of freedom, of vengeance. It offered her power, the power to do as she pleased, to keep herself alive. Power enough that none would ever touch her again.
She could feel her limbs growing heavier, her heart pounding. Her vision was fading, no matter how hard she fought to stay conscious. As the darkness crept closer, the voice aske once again for her answer. Desperation growing, that deep seated need to just stay alive overriding every other thought, she parted her dry, trembling lips and uttered one word.
"yes"
It was barley a whisper, but it was enough. She could feel strength returning to her body, but more than that, she could feel her hunger. A violent, clawing thing, hunger she'd never felt before, now filled every thought. She managed to sit up, and in the next instant, everything went black. When she came to, she was in an unfamiliar room, covered in blood. No, not just a room, a house. Three bodies lay scattered around her, and a fourth was right in front of her. She looks at her hands, buried deep in the deceased wounds. She could feel the still warm blood trickling from her chin. The hunger was silent.
She sat like that, frozen with shock, for a good ten minutes. It wasn't until she heard the cries of a baby in the next room that she snapped out of her trance. Her eyes went wide as the realization of what she had done, of what she might've done if she hadn't come to, hit her all at once. She ran blindly, disappearing into the mists that surrounded the town that night. She ran from herself, from her actions, not daring to look back.
That was several years ago. After that night, she had found herself, somehow, in Barovia, in the shadow of Castle Ravenloft. She's survived since then mostly by remaining in the shadows, though occasionally by using her powers, powers she barley understands. She tries to keep her hunger in check, attempting to feed off of animals when she can. When the urge to feed does become overwhelming, she tries to target those she feels are deserving.
She doesn't really get that she's no longer on the materiel plane, but is observant enough to notice how the mist at the edges of the town never dissipates. Not that it matters to her. She's just trying to survive as long as she can, while trying not to draw attention to herself. Every choice she makes is a struggle between her desire to be merciful, hoping to retain some of her humanity, and her willingness to do whatever it takes to survive.
She is unsure if her Dhampire nature is from the deal she made, or simply the result of how long and how often she'd been on the edge of death from being drained. But she is determined to find a cure. Every time she is forced to feed, she worries she's one step closer to becoming one of the monsters that stole her childhood. She passes as human, albeit a pale, malnourished human, as long as she doesn't let herself get too hungry.
Posting is a minimum of twice a day: Works for me
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Real chance of character death: Yay!
time zone: PST
I was wondering if she could start with one of the dark gifts outlined in Guide to Ravenloft, and if you were planning on using the optional fear and stress rules. Let me know, I'd love to discuss the details in dms.
Ability scores: 15 18 16 15 13 14
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Satina Cindermark, Fighter || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
Name: Crisaryn
Link to character sheet: Crisaryn Melkial
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Class: Sorcerer (Draconic Bloodline)
Race: Human
Backstory:
Crisaryn leads a quiet life, mostly alone, wandering from place to place. More recently she has used her magic to do enough small jobs to get along. But she never stays anywhere long before moving to a new place. It seems that's how she likes it. Nobody seems to know her or where she really came from.
Where she came from is a bit of mystery to her as well. When very young, barely a toddler, both Crisaryn and her family were abducted by a group of dragonborn. They were to serve as slaves - though at her age she was not very helpful in that regard. Her parents, barely remembered now, were taken off to serve in more physical tasks. She doesn't recall any siblings, though she honestly isn't sure if maybe she just forgot. It doesn't really seem that important to her.
For some reason, her captors kept her and other younger captives together. They were severely treated and conditioned to always obey every order. Though mostly hidden, she still has many scars on her body. And of course, burned into her memory. It seemed that for at least some of them, their intention had been to teach them magic. As best as she can imagine now, perhaps it was to have a subservient arcane fighting force. Crisaryn was really not smart enough to grasp the wizardly concepts they tried to impart on her. But through willpower and her innate power, she seemed to be able to accomplish some of the simpler tasks they were asked to do.
As she got older though it got harder and harder to cover for her failings. But unbeknownst to her teachers and captors, her power was slowly growing anyhow. There were also tell-tale signs of her heritage that started to show. The first were a few small golden scales along her shoulders. More obvious, her eyes, always a bit pale in color, were becoming more and more yellow. Some of her friends noticed and began asking her questions that she couldn't really answer. But at least her captors had not noticed yet.
With a little more time, more scales grew in along her upper arms and her magic grew. She realized she could perform spells that her teachers had not even tried to teach her. But as light golden scales started to appear at the back of her neck, she knew it would soon be discovered. She could hardly believe that it hadn't been seen so far. It scared her, but she knew she had to either admit her condition to the dragonborn who held her or use this power to escape. The choice haunted her, her treatment over the years had taught her to obey. But a few of her other friends convinced her to do it.
And it worked, mostly. Crisaryn escaped at least. And one other, a goblin girl. The two were separated during the flight from the fortress where they were located. But three others were killed. Plus, in the back of her mind, she suspected that many of the other children who were left were likely punished for the escape. It troubled her, but she didn't look back.
From that time, she mainly lived on the streets. At first, she thought she would find her goblin friend. It pushed her to go from place to place, but she never did find her. Her magic helped some. And she eventually realized, as he scales grew in, that they helped protect her. She usually avoided outright robbery but wasn't above that if the need arose. Whatever it took to keep her from going hungry. She could fight, protect herself, and things seemed to be going well. But she never felt comfortable anywhere. Today, she still is a bit unnerved by the sight of any dragonborn. And she now and then finds herself looking over her shoulder for someone coming after her.
Portrait
Time Zone: Pacific (GMT-7)
Quick Note: I used Homebrew for the Background and for the Lucky feat that goes with the Background. I have the 2024 Players Handbook physically but not here in DnD Beyond. They should be exactly as presented in the book.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Satina Cindermark, Fighter || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
I have a questions about Party Initiative, miss the house and honours system.
Is 18+ because of gore or sex?
I have an idea for Ranger Hunter with Sorcerous Burst from Aberrant Dragonmark(but I don't have access to this feat and Dhampir in Character buider)
Should create character completly sticking to basic rules or do what I can in Character Builder and note differences here?
I can also make character sheet here and put it in spoiler or share link to pdf on google drive.
DM Curse of Stradt and The Wedding in Ravenloft have dark themes of dominance, sex and death. These are not suitable in my opinion for under 18s.
Sorry no Homebrew. We have two Dhampirs and they had character sheets for that race so I am at a loss that you can't find it, murphys law.
Aberrant Dragonmark is from Eberron and is up to the DM to say yeah or nay. I'm afraid that I'd say nay as you are creating a new character for CoS, not using one from a past adventure in Eberron.
Sorry.
Thodohr Mountainbelch
Neutral Good
Druid, circle of the Land
Dwarf
Backstory : when he was child he traveled with his parents who were traders. After bandits killed them a druid found and took him in.
After Thodohr became confident in his powers he returned to traveling to satiate his curiosity and make wourld better in his own way.
Timezone: +3
At 9th level play the macabre The Wedding at Ravenloft from the DMs Guild within Curse of Strahd where it was designed to be played.
Out of curiosity, how many players are you looking for, and when will you decide?