This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Ability scores: 181514151017
Name: Lia Diamonddew
Race: Half-elf (drow)
Class: Sorceror
Background: Criminal
Backstory:
Lia grew up with her mother, living in the city of Waterdeep. They got by, her mother working at the Yawning Portal as a waitress, while Lia was often left to run the streets with her friends. She eventually fell in with the wrong crowd, and started learning to pick pockets, as well as locks. When her mother found out Lia was brought to the Yawning Portal, where Durnin had a talking with her, that she pretty much ignored. Her mother was always worried about the lack of a father in her life, and offtimes Durnin tried to step in and help out his employee by being a male role model in Lia's life. She did not know who her father was in truth, but her half-elven blood, shown through the white hair she had, that could almost be passed off as a very light shade of blond, pluss her slightly pointed ears, told her that he was most likely an elf of some kind. As she grew older, magical powers began to manifest. She began to ask more questions about her true father, and, eventually her mother sat her down and explained that she had fallen in love with an elf. They had spent a couple years traveling together, but he had had to leave, since he was uncomfortable living among humans. It was a lie, and Lia knew it for a lie, but she also could see there was some pain there that her mother was very clearly not over, and most likely would never be over. She let it drop, but wondered who this mystery elf was who had sired her, then left. That was not the biggest secret though, and the second part was an even bigger blow. Her mother was not human either, as Lia had always believed. She was instead an Aasimar, who had traveled some with Durnin during his later adventuring career, and was why she worked for him now in his tavern. Lia had a bit of an identity crisis at this point, having one parent who was an unknown elf, and her mother, her rock and sole family, not be the human woman she had always believed. She became a bit rebellious and started doing more with her bad-crowd friends, and even got thrown into jail a couple of times for various infractions. It was during an outing with her friends that Lia came across the crystal shard. It was a jet-black crystal, the size of her fist. She felt 'drawn' to it, and could not help but pick it up. As soon as she did a voice spoke to her, though she could not understand the voice at first. It took her some time to do so, and then she was not sure what it meant most of the time. Its wording was so cryptic and often nonsense, that she often simply disregarded what it had to say. She couldn't get rid of it though, and had no desire to do so, feeling she needed to keep it close always. Eventually Lia got over her identity issues, and found she liked just being herself. She kept in contact with those friends from her rebellious stage though, people she trusted and knew would have her back. She spent a lot of time in the Yawning Portal, talking to adventurers and watching some go into the Well, while others traveled abroad. She yearned to follow after them, but was uncertain if she was ready for that yet.
Sure mate! Also i see that we both worship Helm, your back is something that i can get behind. Be what i lack and i will be more than happy to work with you.
Actually, "Watchful Eye" refers to Marthammor Duin, local deity of the town (neutral good), but by extension this is Moradin (lawful good) - both dwarven gods. If that still suits you, we could say Silver was with this band of travelers passing through Twilight Tor on the way to Waterdeep.
Hahaha sry mate,I associate moradin more with his hammer than an eye ,for me that´s more of Helm , but it´s cool to know more!!
Sure mate! Also i see that we both worship Helm, your back is something that i can get behind. Be what i lack and i will be more than happy to work with you.
He could introduce her to the concept of honor, something she hadn't had before from her simple village upbringing, and thus influence her to go the path of a Paladin instead of just a Fighter. If you're ok with that, I will fold it into my background story, and you can do likewise if you desire. :)
Sure, i can work with that, just one thing. I don´t feel that he is going to be confortable being a mentor or something like that (because of his fall), in the other hand if Chrys treat him as an equal, on this journey, he will be happy to work with her on her path to be paladin.
Sure, i can work with that, just one thing. I don´t feel that he is going to be confortable being a mentor or something like that (because of his fall), in the other hand if Chrys treat him as an equal, on this journey, he will be happy to work with her on her path to be paladin.
No problems! I updated my background story this way, let me know if something in here doesn't work for your character:
At least, that’s what she thought until the Simril festival of her 61st year. The villagers welcomed a company of weary travelers in their midst, offering them rest and respite from their adventures as they traveled towards Waterdeep. And among them was the strangest being Chrys had ever seen in her life - a silver-scaled dragonborn! Unlike his companions, Loraliann, or "Silver" as the others dubbed him, was reticent and withdrawn. He seemed extremely uncomfortable surrounded by the lively trappings of the festival, and his fiercesome appearance made many of the villagers afford him a wide berth for most of the evening. Still, as the festival continued, and the ale flew freely, another warrior from the visiting company dipped too deeply into her cups and became rowdy and obnoxious. Chrys noted with awe how the dragonborn overcame his reservation and moved swiftly to diffuse the tense situation before violence could erupt.
Chrys was intrigued; as a member of the Watch, she had been fully prepared and perhaps even anticipating the scuffle that would have surely resulted had she stepped in to take care of the problem. Yet Silver, despite his intimidating appearance, had chosen not to fight. A warrior who stepped away from the chance for battle? Intrigued, she sought him out and questioned him, and learned of his foreign concepts of honor and fealty - and to family, at that! Considering her strained relationship with her own parents, Chrys couldn't imagine pledging herself to her family's honor... but Silver's quiet and strictly structured approach to conflict appealed to her.
On noting Chrys' interest in the concepts of honor and chivalry, Silver decided to introduce her to the cleric of his company. There Chrys learned that she could turn her faith into the very discipline that she had admired in Silver's actions. Inspired by that knowledge, Chrys made a split-second decision to join the adventurers on their journey to Waterdeep, and learn the ways of a paladin. She knew it would be difficult, considering her quick temper and stubbornness, but she wanted to travel, and to learn more of the world than Twilight Tor had to offer.
Brown-haired, grey-eyed, perpetually sunburnt, with far more daggers than is entirely necessary, Arine makes for a less than imposing figure, but she isn't entirely bothered by it as she's frequently at eye-level with other humanoids' coin purses.
Backstory:
A great pirate hero from Lusken, honorary member of the Hellriders, bane of the Cult of Dragons, Vanquisher of all Corruption - Arine is none of these things, but will have you convinced she is before the night's out. A quick-fingered rogue with a gift for gab, Arine took full advantage of the birthmark on her right elbow curious enough to pass for a goblin's bite. Alongside her dearest friend, Bruklin, the halfling has talked herself into as much trouble as she's talked herself out of. The generous term for what they do is storytelling. Though others might disagree, their tall tales have earned them a warm hearth and full mug on more than one occasion, and a full sack of coin, on many others.
In Arine's eyes, it was a victimless crime. If a few naive villagers thought they'd really deliver their temple offerings, or chase out their ogres, and were willing to pay upfront, that was simply a free lesson in honesty. Their scheme had been their way of pulling themselves out of the claustrophobic poverty of a dying fishing town.
With a wild imagination, and the occasional letter from 'great uncle' Oldrin's printing press (he gets all the news down at Baldur's Gate, insane that stuff is), Arine spent years traipsing across the countryside in relative comfort, indulging in more brothels and gambling dens than was strictly wise, perhaps, but would a wise halfling have a tattoo of Laeral Silverhand on her hip? Precisely.
Like all things in life, it was good up until it wasn't.
To this day, she isn't entirely sure where they'd gone wrong. Perhaps they'd garnered the wrong sort of attention. Perhaps one of their lies had finally caught up with them. Most likely, they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. The attack came without warning or mercy, and figures cloaked in shadow descended on the sleepy town they'd taken refuge in. Arine escaped, but she hasn't seen Bruklin since.
Reeling from the loss of her oldest friend, forced to face genuine malice, Arine's taken her first steps on a grand adventure - to save Bruklin. Hopefully it'll be just like in the stories.
Link: ddb.ac/characters/19872158/OsjzHJ
[[ooc: i'd love to set up backstory buddies too! if everything works for you ahah]]
Sure, i can work with that, just one thing. I don´t feel that he is going to be confortable being a mentor or something like that (because of his fall), in the other hand if Chrys treat him as an equal, on this journey, he will be happy to work with her on her path to be paladin.
No problems! I updated my background story this way, let me know if something in here doesn't work for your character:
At least, that’s what she thought until the Simril festival of her 61st year. The villagers welcomed a company of weary travelers in their midst, offering them rest and respite from their adventures as they traveled towards Waterdeep. And among them was the strangest being Chrys had ever seen in her life - a silver-scaled dragonborn! Unlike his companions, Loraliann, or "Silver" as the others dubbed him, was reticent and withdrawn. He seemed extremely uncomfortable surrounded by the lively trappings of the festival, and his fiercesome appearance made many of the villagers afford him a wide berth for most of the evening. Still, as the festival continued, and the ale flew freely, another warrior from the visiting company dipped too deeply into her cups and became rowdy and obnoxious. Chrys noted with awe how the dragonborn overcame his reservation and moved swiftly to diffuse the tense situation before violence could erupt.
Chrys was intrigued; as a member of the Watch, she had been fully prepared and perhaps even anticipating the scuffle that would have surely resulted had she stepped in to take care of the problem. Yet Silver, despite his intimidating appearance, had chosen not to fight. A warrior who stepped away from the chance for battle? Intrigued, she sought him out and questioned him, and learned of his foreign concepts of honor and fealty - and to family, at that! Considering her strained relationship with her own parents, Chrys couldn't imagine pledging herself to her family's honor... but Silver's quiet and strictly structured approach to conflict appealed to her.
On noting Chrys' interest in the concepts of honor and chivalry, Silver decided to introduce her to the cleric of his company. There Chrys learned that she could turn her faith into the very discipline that she had admired in Silver's actions. Inspired by that knowledge, Chrys made a split-second decision to join the adventurers on their journey to Waterdeep, and learn the ways of a paladin. She knew it would be difficult, considering her quick temper and stubbornness, but she wanted to travel, and to learn more of the world than Twilight Tor had to offer.
Perfect, my story is going to be updated like this, if something doesn´t work with her, tell me :
Born and raised as a soldier near the icy mountains, silver was the only dragonborn among the recruits. His father an old retired general, encouraged him to be the best that he could and to hold his family honour above all. One day his squad was send on a reckon mission on the mountains.Then as he failed to spot an ambush at night when it was his turn to look out for the group , all his friends died at the hands of evil creatures. Consumed by the grief of his failure and the destruction of his family honour. He decided to escape and let everyone think that he died thet night with his comrades. Now he embarked himself on a journey to regain his family honour.
After a while Loraliann join a caravan in order to earn some coin and travel as far as he could of his past. Soon the caravan arrived to Twilight Tor. Everithing was so different , all the decoration and the jolly spirit in contrast to the grey and tense ambient of the barracks. Loraliann was absolutely absorbed by everything, but then his joy was interrupted when he realized that someone from the caravan had had too many beers. He soon took care of the situation and helped the now drunk man find comfort in the local inn. Upon leaving he noticed that a local had been especially interested in him, intrigued by the fact that someone had been able to see beyond his apperance, he decide to struck a conversation with her.
Quick temper maybe, stubborn you can bet on it, but Chrys was a diamond on the rough that just need a proper guide, and Loraliann was not that guide, but he knew where to find one. So after a quick chat with the caravan priest, the caravan got a new paladin, and Loraliann got a new ally.
Backstory: Quendra is self taught student of the late master Danica Bonaduce, and the ancient teachings of Penpahg D'Ahn. She travels to every library and archive she can to learn the forgotten techniques of masters of long forgotten ages. (That's about as far as I'm willing to write.)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
You know, on further testing out the dice roller, I think I might need to reroll my stats because I misunderstood how the "reroll 1s" thing works. Except it seems like I can't edit my old posts after a certain amount of time has passed. Well, I'll wait on that until we here from the OP on who is actually selected to play, but I'm not changing my base character application even if she ends up with some funky weird new stats.
But just in case I did it wrong, here's a reroll without the drop 1's:
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Ability scores: 1014109138
Olaf Redrikson, Mountain Dwarf
Bard, neutral good, folk hero.
Description: A smiling, rotund dwarf, with a face creased from much smiling and many winters. His auburn locks, just frosting to a light grey around the tips, fall in waves around his expressive face and frizzy beard. His booming call and soft baritone has been known to cut through raucous markets like an arrow, as if shot from the very quiver of infallible wisdom. Mercurial as the wind, loyal to the bone, and never quite slaked for a good brown ale, he yearns to pursue his life's greatest goal: the greatest story ever to be told.
It began with a dream. A foolish one, perhaps, but what is a foolish dream to a fool but a dream? On such words of so-called wisdom was young Olaf raised in old Redriksholm, listening to the tales of gods and valor that defined the ages before, their legends marked with the bright flame of glory, like so many bright young stars on the tapestry of history. Olaf does not see himself as of yet as being noted upon that most noble tapestry, though oh so eagerly would he see his fate entwined alongside such heroes as walked the world in ancient times! Still, sometimes it is not to be, and the more noble of paths is that of storyteller, taleweaver, inspirer of hearts and minds - the bardic life. His parents mildly disapproved, of course - one fewer pair of hands for the family brewery, you see. Still, they respected his youthful wishes and, now after 150 long years of idyllic wandering, Olaf believes he has found a hero worthy of tales to be told - if only he would stop protecting horse caravans and do something. Hvitserk was always a bit of a family blacksheep, but Olaf appreciated it when his nephew dropped in at family reunions. So, for the last year, and not taking no for an answer, Olaf's been riding the soon-to-be glorious bootstraps of the Mighty Hvitserk, quill and ink poised to jot down every careless, graceful word, every heroic quip, and every daring repartee. It is here that the real story begins...
I can easily adapt my background story with others as well (have noticed quite a few halflings on here) as Bree has traveled in the lands around Neverwinter with her mentor.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Ability scores: 161417111511
Oh nice.
Well, time to introduce my character.
Name: Kessdarra Lorrath
Class: Fighter
Race: Moon Elf
Background: Far Traveler
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Alignment: Neutral Good
Description:
What you see before you is a silver skinned elven female of Moon Elf origins, with blue eyes and a shock of silver in her otherwise blue-sheened ebon locks parted evenly down the middle. She carries a pair of cutlasses in carefully laquered black sheathes tucked beneath her shoulders for easy access by leather straps. Both blades have meticulously carved grips of knucklehead ivory in the shape of two white dragons on the end of both pommels, the grips of either weapon meticulously styled to feature the closed wings of the infamous northern tyrants and the eyes both set with polished blue chalcedony in the sockets.
She stands in a mix of attires that suggests an embrace of her femininity as much as her skill with a blade; a coat of black, studded leather that suggest a life of travel. This armor is often worn over a white blouse that flatters her figure without revealing her chest with sleeves that reach just past the elbow, worn under a form-hugging satin blue dress that is cut along a slit at her right side just a couple inches above the knee, revealing black silk tights and a sterling silver belt about her hips and a silver waist-cincher made of flexible fabrics, as well as black boots that fit close yet seem fitted with knucklehead ivory along the heels and steel along the toes. Her face is well made-up, and her nails are painted a blue that flatters her dress.
Her hair is long and straight, parted in the middle and pinned up in the back by a mother-of-pearl brooch fashioned in the shape of a snowflake. A simple knucklehead ivory pendant on a black silk collar rests on her neck with the elvish words for "my star" upon it, and two simple silver loop earrings.
Backstory: Kessdarra, or Kess to her friends, is a bit of an odd duck. Despite the flattering clothes and elven beauty that contrast strangely with her weapons and armor, few would be very hard-pressed to believe that this swordswoman and elven beauty was born in the harsh north of Icewind Dale. Raised in Lonelywood by her mother (a former attendant to one of the few members of the Host Tower of the Arcane of Luskan that chose not to throw in their lot with the Arcane Brotherhood), Kess at an early age has hinted of having potential in two areas of her life: magic and martial skill. So, she has spent her time trying to pursue both. However, she never quite knew her father, and it always ate away at her. They would sometimes journey south to the Moonwood during the winters to commiserate with her family, and even refine her skills.
Nevertheless, Kess grew into a beautiful woman who became known for her skill in blades and less for her magic potential, as well as a lover of history. Being a native to Icewind Dale, she often found herself being regaled with the sagas of a certain famous drow renegade also known for wielding two blades, much to her chagrin; while she has no quarrel or ill will towards the famed Drizzt Do'urden, she would rather not be constantly compared to a living legend. Although she also had a scholarly thirst for knowledge in history, Kess also sought to study the arcane and the blade. Eventually, at the age of 20, Kess took to leaving her icy homeland and exploring throughout Faerun, eventually ending up working as a guard in a tavern, employed as much for her beauty as her belying skill with blades. Young and full of vigor for an elf, Kessdarra is ready to take on the world.
Even so, a question eats away at her: who is her father, and why would her mother never tell her? Why did she sometimes get the feeling that her family elders knew more than they would ever let on?
Lia is also quite adaptable for background buddies. She is a half-elf from Waterdeep, who oftimes has gotten into hanging with the bad-crowd. Any of you could be part of that bad-crowd she hung out with...
Tammy is a friendly lass who's likely to (literally, look at that Dex) trip over anyone when she's selling wine in Waterdeep, so I'm happy to collab with anyone.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
I'm always looking for games where I can get descriptive and wordy :D
Ability scores: 1791517116
Name: Scrag
Class: Fighter (Brute if UA is allowed, otherwise a different subclass)
Race: Halfling
Backstory: Scrag grew up on the streets of Waterdeep an urchin. She's never known her parents, but suspects there's orcish blood somewhere in that abandoned lineage. Others have suggested that her mother was a keg of black powder, given her propensity for exploding without warning. That temper and talent for violence has kept her safe enough on the streets, but she's starting to realise that it's probably not a good strategy for a long life (or at least, longer than your average urchin). She's worked for thieves guilds, but both the Xanathar and Zhents talk a big game, full of adventure and the brotherhood of thieves, before sending her ilk out to serve as cannon fodder. Never believe the lies of someone trying to sell you dreams.
Thing is, she found that she was so enmeshed with the gangs of Waterdeep, that every attempt to break out just pulled her more tightly in. As far as she could see, her only option was to get the hell out of Waterdeep, cut ties and start fresh. She took a contract that would take her up to Neverwinter via Triboar, escorting a caravan. They didn't get further than Red Larch before trouble hit - two hill giants attacked the caravan. Scrag was able to get the caravan behind the town defences, rouse the guard and aided in defending the town. The acclaim she received for 'leading the defence' was... nice. Unusual, but nice, and absolutely something she felt she could get used to. The caravan, however, was spooked by the attack and decided not to continue on.
[I'd love to buddy up with anyone travelling the North, or have history with people back in Waterdeep - she's no doubt gotten drunk and/or sold wine to Tammy "It fell off the back of a wagon! Special deal, going quick!", and if Silver and Chrys are moving toward Waterdeep, they're moving on the same roads. She's not mad keen on going back there, but if she does, at least she's not alone]
Backstory: As the son of a priestess of Helm, I grew up with the understanding that I would serve in some clerical capacity. That is, until the day that I learned my mother was embezzling funds from the church to fund her drinking and gambling habit. I run away from home, unable to cope with my discovery. I'm found wondering the countryside by a friendly monk named Lawerence. He takes me to his monastery in worship of Lathander. I rededicate my life in search of renewal, but like most, I find myself falling into the same pitfalls as my mother. I drink too much, and eventually Lawerence banishes me from the monastery after one time many drunken escapades. I now wander the Savage Frontier in search of redemption.
A gnome stands proudly at her slightly above 3' height as she carries a pack upon her back. She wears no armor upon her dirtied clothes, but her clothes show much wear as they fray and have small holes in places. A patterned bandana rests around her neck as bandages are wrapped around her fists. The pack is almost as big as her, as it carries supplies to explore ruins, abandoned castles, and forgotten monasteries. Even with a pick and a shovel on the side to go deeper into the past. Though she has the two tools, her only actual weapon is a boomerang, wooden in build and sturdy enough to hit others.
Her hair is a short brown, a bit unkempt as she cut it herself but does the job. Her skin is tanned from working in the sun to dig and dusty due to old places. Her knuckles are a bit darker due to bruising but it doesn't bother her. Her eyes are a vibrant green as she gives a toothy grin, showing a few knocked teeth.
Backstory:
Like most gnomes, Shynivia held a love for exploring. Whether it be knowledge or location, she enjoyed it. Diving into a book or going beyond her hill home, both excited her. Though her brothers would tease her for her book loving nature, she'd retaliate with her own teasing. When they rubbed their knuckles onto her head, she'd wiggle out and climb onto them, returning the favor. She grew up with that love, it only growing more and more with each tale of lost city or discovering ancient ruins. Upon turning twenty, the grown up tom boy decided to leave her home. To learn more and to discover civilizations and cultures for herself.
Her first stop was Waterdeep, to find other like minded individuals and possible an expedition party. After a month of asking about, talking to barkeeps and bothering guards, she finds herself with an expedition to a recently discovered monastery in the Sword mountains. Through a week of travel and throughly informing or boring her companions with her fore knowledge of tales, stories, or fables, they arrive at the long abandoned monastery. The expedition's main task was to recover anything of worth back to Waterdeep, though Shynivia goal was to explore the large center. The party set about, checking left art, searching rooms, and pilfering anything remotely valuable.
Shynivia went about on her own, recording what she saw and making notes upon it. Through her excitement, she fails to notice the weak flooring as it creaks beneath her as she runs about. And with an excited hop, the floor collapses. She falls through as she lands upon another floor, the flooring partially covering her. After a moment of unconsciousness, she awakens to find herself in a hidden room. A small one, seemingly dedicated to meditation, with a single pedestal. Upon it is a thick tome. She brushes herself off as she approaches it, peering at the dry leather cover with the single image of a fist. She hefts it up as she starts to go through the pages. It told of ancient techniques, ways to harness elements in one's body. She barely notices as the others come to her, asking of the noise.
She tells them of the fall and the room with the book. With a sigh, the members dismiss the discovery, more interested in material gain. They help her out of the room as they've found what they can for now. And with that, Shynivia found a mentor in the form of a book. She learned the basics of it, focusing on the use of her body and is starting to understand what the element is inside her. She joins with a few more expeditions but started to grow tired of already discovered places. She yearned to be the one to discover the ruins, not just visit them after another tells of it. So why not journey to an unknown place, where many already roam and who knows how many were there before. The Savage Frontier, the 'Savage' didn't scare her, the 'Frontier' excited her. A place to be a pioneer for her goal.
Ability scores: 18 15 14 15 10 17
Name: Lia Diamonddew
Race: Half-elf (drow)
Class: Sorceror
Background: Criminal
Backstory:
Lia grew up with her mother, living in the city of Waterdeep. They got by, her mother working at the Yawning Portal as a waitress, while Lia was often left to run the streets with her friends. She eventually fell in with the wrong crowd, and started learning to pick pockets, as well as locks. When her mother found out Lia was brought to the Yawning Portal, where Durnin had a talking with her, that she pretty much ignored. Her mother was always worried about the lack of a father in her life, and offtimes Durnin tried to step in and help out his employee by being a male role model in Lia's life. She did not know who her father was in truth, but her half-elven blood, shown through the white hair she had, that could almost be passed off as a very light shade of blond, pluss her slightly pointed ears, told her that he was most likely an elf of some kind.
As she grew older, magical powers began to manifest. She began to ask more questions about her true father, and, eventually her mother sat her down and explained that she had fallen in love with an elf. They had spent a couple years traveling together, but he had had to leave, since he was uncomfortable living among humans. It was a lie, and Lia knew it for a lie, but she also could see there was some pain there that her mother was very clearly not over, and most likely would never be over. She let it drop, but wondered who this mystery elf was who had sired her, then left.
That was not the biggest secret though, and the second part was an even bigger blow. Her mother was not human either, as Lia had always believed. She was instead an Aasimar, who had traveled some with Durnin during his later adventuring career, and was why she worked for him now in his tavern. Lia had a bit of an identity crisis at this point, having one parent who was an unknown elf, and her mother, her rock and sole family, not be the human woman she had always believed. She became a bit rebellious and started doing more with her bad-crowd friends, and even got thrown into jail a couple of times for various infractions.
It was during an outing with her friends that Lia came across the crystal shard. It was a jet-black crystal, the size of her fist. She felt 'drawn' to it, and could not help but pick it up. As soon as she did a voice spoke to her, though she could not understand the voice at first. It took her some time to do so, and then she was not sure what it meant most of the time. Its wording was so cryptic and often nonsense, that she often simply disregarded what it had to say. She couldn't get rid of it though, and had no desire to do so, feeling she needed to keep it close always.
Eventually Lia got over her identity issues, and found she liked just being herself. She kept in contact with those friends from her rebellious stage though, people she trusted and knew would have her back. She spent a lot of time in the Yawning Portal, talking to adventurers and watching some go into the Well, while others traveled abroad. She yearned to follow after them, but was uncertain if she was ready for that yet.
Link:
https://ddb.ac/characters/19871071/Wnx5km
Hahaha sry mate,I associate moradin more with his hammer than an eye ,for me that´s more of Helm , but it´s cool to know more!!
Sure, i can work with that, just one thing. I don´t feel that he is going to be confortable being a mentor or something like that (because of his fall), in the other hand if Chrys treat him as an equal, on this journey, he will be happy to work with her on her path to be paladin.
No problems! I updated my background story this way, let me know if something in here doesn't work for your character:
Ability Scores: See above <3
Name: Arine Meadowleaf
Race: Halfling
Class: Rogue
Background: Charlatan
Description:
Brown-haired, grey-eyed, perpetually sunburnt, with far more daggers than is entirely necessary, Arine makes for a less than imposing figure, but she isn't entirely bothered by it as she's frequently at eye-level with other humanoids' coin purses.
Backstory:
A great pirate hero from Lusken, honorary member of the Hellriders, bane of the Cult of Dragons, Vanquisher of all Corruption - Arine is none of these things, but will have you convinced she is before the night's out. A quick-fingered rogue with a gift for gab, Arine took full advantage of the birthmark on her right elbow curious enough to pass for a goblin's bite. Alongside her dearest friend, Bruklin, the halfling has talked herself into as much trouble as she's talked herself out of. The generous term for what they do is storytelling. Though others might disagree, their tall tales have earned them a warm hearth and full mug on more than one occasion, and a full sack of coin, on many others.
In Arine's eyes, it was a victimless crime. If a few naive villagers thought they'd really deliver their temple offerings, or chase out their ogres, and were willing to pay upfront, that was simply a free lesson in honesty. Their scheme had been their way of pulling themselves out of the claustrophobic poverty of a dying fishing town.
With a wild imagination, and the occasional letter from 'great uncle' Oldrin's printing press (he gets all the news down at Baldur's Gate, insane that stuff is), Arine spent years traipsing across the countryside in relative comfort, indulging in more brothels and gambling dens than was strictly wise, perhaps, but would a wise halfling have a tattoo of Laeral Silverhand on her hip? Precisely.
Like all things in life, it was good up until it wasn't.
To this day, she isn't entirely sure where they'd gone wrong. Perhaps they'd garnered the wrong sort of attention. Perhaps one of their lies had finally caught up with them. Most likely, they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. The attack came without warning or mercy, and figures cloaked in shadow descended on the sleepy town they'd taken refuge in. Arine escaped, but she hasn't seen Bruklin since.
Reeling from the loss of her oldest friend, forced to face genuine malice, Arine's taken her first steps on a grand adventure - to save Bruklin. Hopefully it'll be just like in the stories.
Link: ddb.ac/characters/19872158/OsjzHJ
[[ooc: i'd love to set up backstory buddies too! if everything works for you ahah]]
Perfect, my story is going to be updated like this, if something doesn´t work with her, tell me :
Ability scores: 17 10 11 11 12 11
Name: Quendra
Race: Wood Elf
Class: Monk
Background: Sage
Backstory: Quendra is self taught student of the late master Danica Bonaduce, and the ancient teachings of Penpahg D'Ahn. She travels to every library and archive she can to learn the forgotten techniques of masters of long forgotten ages. (That's about as far as I'm willing to write.)
https://ddb.ac/characters/19881867/YG31s0
You know, on further testing out the dice roller, I think I might need to reroll my stats because I misunderstood how the "reroll 1s" thing works. Except it seems like I can't edit my old posts after a certain amount of time has passed. Well, I'll wait on that until we here from the OP on who is actually selected to play, but I'm not changing my base character application even if she ends up with some funky weird new stats.But just in case I did it wrong, here's a reroll without the drop 1's:Ability scores: 9 5 11 18 13 11Oh I did it right the first time. Derp. :P
Ability scores: 10 14 10 9 13 8
Olaf Redrikson, Mountain Dwarf
Bard, neutral good, folk hero.
Description: A smiling, rotund dwarf, with a face creased from much smiling and many winters. His auburn locks, just frosting to a light grey around the tips, fall in waves around his expressive face and frizzy beard. His booming call and soft baritone has been known to cut through raucous markets like an arrow, as if shot from the very quiver of infallible wisdom. Mercurial as the wind, loyal to the bone, and never quite slaked for a good brown ale, he yearns to pursue his life's greatest goal: the greatest story ever to be told.
It began with a dream. A foolish one, perhaps, but what is a foolish dream to a fool but a dream? On such words of so-called wisdom was young Olaf raised in old Redriksholm, listening to the tales of gods and valor that defined the ages before, their legends marked with the bright flame of glory, like so many bright young stars on the tapestry of history. Olaf does not see himself as of yet as being noted upon that most noble tapestry, though oh so eagerly would he see his fate entwined alongside such heroes as walked the world in ancient times! Still, sometimes it is not to be, and the more noble of paths is that of storyteller, taleweaver, inspirer of hearts and minds - the bardic life. His parents mildly disapproved, of course - one fewer pair of hands for the family brewery, you see. Still, they respected his youthful wishes and, now after 150 long years of idyllic wandering, Olaf believes he has found a hero worthy of tales to be told - if only he would stop protecting horse caravans and do something. Hvitserk was always a bit of a family blacksheep, but Olaf appreciated it when his nephew dropped in at family reunions. So, for the last year, and not taking no for an answer, Olaf's been riding the soon-to-be glorious bootstraps of the Mighty Hvitserk, quill and ink poised to jot down every careless, graceful word, every heroic quip, and every daring repartee. It is here that the real story begins...
What race is Oalf?
I can easily adapt my background story with others as well (have noticed quite a few halflings on here) as Bree has traveled in the lands around Neverwinter with her mentor.
Ah, my bad ! See the edit!
Also, thanks for taking the time to point out that omission!
See Hvitserk on page 1 for the other side of Olaf's story...
Ability scores: 16 14 17 11 15 11
Oh nice.
Well, time to introduce my character.
Name: Kessdarra Lorrath
Class: Fighter
Race: Moon Elf
Background: Far Traveler
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Alignment: Neutral Good
Description:
What you see before you is a silver skinned elven female of Moon Elf origins, with blue eyes and a shock of silver in her otherwise blue-sheened ebon locks parted evenly down the middle. She carries a pair of cutlasses in carefully laquered black sheathes tucked beneath her shoulders for easy access by leather straps. Both blades have meticulously carved grips of knucklehead ivory in the shape of two white dragons on the end of both pommels, the grips of either weapon meticulously styled to feature the closed wings of the infamous northern tyrants and the eyes both set with polished blue chalcedony in the sockets.
She stands in a mix of attires that suggests an embrace of her femininity as much as her skill with a blade; a coat of black, studded leather that suggest a life of travel. This armor is often worn over a white blouse that flatters her figure without revealing her chest with sleeves that reach just past the elbow, worn under a form-hugging satin blue dress that is cut along a slit at her right side just a couple inches above the knee, revealing black silk tights and a sterling silver belt about her hips and a silver waist-cincher made of flexible fabrics, as well as black boots that fit close yet seem fitted with knucklehead ivory along the heels and steel along the toes. Her face is well made-up, and her nails are painted a blue that flatters her dress.
Her hair is long and straight, parted in the middle and pinned up in the back by a mother-of-pearl brooch fashioned in the shape of a snowflake. A simple knucklehead ivory pendant on a black silk collar rests on her neck with the elvish words for "my star" upon it, and two simple silver loop earrings.
Backstory: Kessdarra, or Kess to her friends, is a bit of an odd duck. Despite the flattering clothes and elven beauty that contrast strangely with her weapons and armor, few would be very hard-pressed to believe that this swordswoman and elven beauty was born in the harsh north of Icewind Dale. Raised in Lonelywood by her mother (a former attendant to one of the few members of the Host Tower of the Arcane of Luskan that chose not to throw in their lot with the Arcane Brotherhood), Kess at an early age has hinted of having potential in two areas of her life: magic and martial skill. So, she has spent her time trying to pursue both. However, she never quite knew her father, and it always ate away at her. They would sometimes journey south to the Moonwood during the winters to commiserate with her family, and even refine her skills.
Nevertheless, Kess grew into a beautiful woman who became known for her skill in blades and less for her magic potential, as well as a lover of history. Being a native to Icewind Dale, she often found herself being regaled with the sagas of a certain famous drow renegade also known for wielding two blades, much to her chagrin; while she has no quarrel or ill will towards the famed Drizzt Do'urden, she would rather not be constantly compared to a living legend. Although she also had a scholarly thirst for knowledge in history, Kess also sought to study the arcane and the blade. Eventually, at the age of 20, Kess took to leaving her icy homeland and exploring throughout Faerun, eventually ending up working as a guard in a tavern, employed as much for her beauty as her belying skill with blades. Young and full of vigor for an elf, Kessdarra is ready to take on the world.
Even so, a question eats away at her: who is her father, and why would her mother never tell her? Why did she sometimes get the feeling that her family elders knew more than they would ever let on?
Krackle the super friendly and happy-go-lucky kobold sorcerer is totally fine with a background buddy lol.
Lia is also quite adaptable for background buddies. She is a half-elf from Waterdeep, who oftimes has gotten into hanging with the bad-crowd. Any of you could be part of that bad-crowd she hung out with...
Ability scores: 12 12 13 14 8 14
name:Durlinclass: rogue
Cloistered book nerd wizard here....Gray had no peers lol so I'm flying solo for now I think. Best of luck to everyone!
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
Tammy is a friendly lass who's likely to (literally, look at that Dex) trip over anyone when she's selling wine in Waterdeep, so I'm happy to collab with anyone.
I'm always looking for games where I can get descriptive and wordy :D
Ability scores: 17 9 15 17 11 6
Name: Scrag
Class: Fighter (Brute if UA is allowed, otherwise a different subclass)
Race: Halfling
Backstory: Scrag grew up on the streets of Waterdeep an urchin. She's never known her parents, but suspects there's orcish blood somewhere in that abandoned lineage. Others have suggested that her mother was a keg of black powder, given her propensity for exploding without warning. That temper and talent for violence has kept her safe enough on the streets, but she's starting to realise that it's probably not a good strategy for a long life (or at least, longer than your average urchin). She's worked for thieves guilds, but both the Xanathar and Zhents talk a big game, full of adventure and the brotherhood of thieves, before sending her ilk out to serve as cannon fodder. Never believe the lies of someone trying to sell you dreams.
Thing is, she found that she was so enmeshed with the gangs of Waterdeep, that every attempt to break out just pulled her more tightly in. As far as she could see, her only option was to get the hell out of Waterdeep, cut ties and start fresh. She took a contract that would take her up to Neverwinter via Triboar, escorting a caravan. They didn't get further than Red Larch before trouble hit - two hill giants attacked the caravan. Scrag was able to get the caravan behind the town defences, rouse the guard and aided in defending the town. The acclaim she received for 'leading the defence' was... nice. Unusual, but nice, and absolutely something she felt she could get used to. The caravan, however, was spooked by the attack and decided not to continue on.
[I'd love to buddy up with anyone travelling the North, or have history with people back in Waterdeep - she's no doubt gotten drunk and/or sold wine to Tammy "It fell off the back of a wagon! Special deal, going quick!", and if Silver and Chrys are moving toward Waterdeep, they're moving on the same roads. She's not mad keen on going back there, but if she does, at least she's not alone]
Ability scores: 8 9 14 8 11 7
Name: Duncan
Race: Human
Class: Monk (eventually Drunken Master)
Background: Acolyte
Backstory: As the son of a priestess of Helm, I grew up with the understanding that I would serve in some clerical capacity. That is, until the day that I learned my mother was embezzling funds from the church to fund her drinking and gambling habit. I run away from home, unable to cope with my discovery. I'm found wondering the countryside by a friendly monk named Lawerence. He takes me to his monastery in worship of Lathander. I rededicate my life in search of renewal, but like most, I find myself falling into the same pitfalls as my mother. I drink too much, and eventually Lawerence banishes me from the monastery after one time many drunken escapades. I now wander the Savage Frontier in search of redemption.
Ability scores: 10 14 11 14 12 12
Gonna go with Array
Name: Shynivia Kerpality Temper
Class: Monk
Race: Forest Gnome
Background: Archaeologist
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Alignment: Neutral Good
Description:
A gnome stands proudly at her slightly above 3' height as she carries a pack upon her back. She wears no armor upon her dirtied clothes, but her clothes show much wear as they fray and have small holes in places. A patterned bandana rests around her neck as bandages are wrapped around her fists. The pack is almost as big as her, as it carries supplies to explore ruins, abandoned castles, and forgotten monasteries. Even with a pick and a shovel on the side to go deeper into the past. Though she has the two tools, her only actual weapon is a boomerang, wooden in build and sturdy enough to hit others.
Her hair is a short brown, a bit unkempt as she cut it herself but does the job. Her skin is tanned from working in the sun to dig and dusty due to old places. Her knuckles are a bit darker due to bruising but it doesn't bother her. Her eyes are a vibrant green as she gives a toothy grin, showing a few knocked teeth.
Backstory:
Like most gnomes, Shynivia held a love for exploring. Whether it be knowledge or location, she enjoyed it. Diving into a book or going beyond her hill home, both excited her. Though her brothers would tease her for her book loving nature, she'd retaliate with her own teasing. When they rubbed their knuckles onto her head, she'd wiggle out and climb onto them, returning the favor. She grew up with that love, it only growing more and more with each tale of lost city or discovering ancient ruins. Upon turning twenty, the grown up tom boy decided to leave her home. To learn more and to discover civilizations and cultures for herself.
Her first stop was Waterdeep, to find other like minded individuals and possible an expedition party. After a month of asking about, talking to barkeeps and bothering guards, she finds herself with an expedition to a recently discovered monastery in the Sword mountains. Through a week of travel and throughly informing or boring her companions with her fore knowledge of tales, stories, or fables, they arrive at the long abandoned monastery. The expedition's main task was to recover anything of worth back to Waterdeep, though Shynivia goal was to explore the large center. The party set about, checking left art, searching rooms, and pilfering anything remotely valuable.
Shynivia went about on her own, recording what she saw and making notes upon it. Through her excitement, she fails to notice the weak flooring as it creaks beneath her as she runs about. And with an excited hop, the floor collapses. She falls through as she lands upon another floor, the flooring partially covering her. After a moment of unconsciousness, she awakens to find herself in a hidden room. A small one, seemingly dedicated to meditation, with a single pedestal. Upon it is a thick tome. She brushes herself off as she approaches it, peering at the dry leather cover with the single image of a fist. She hefts it up as she starts to go through the pages. It told of ancient techniques, ways to harness elements in one's body. She barely notices as the others come to her, asking of the noise.
She tells them of the fall and the room with the book. With a sigh, the members dismiss the discovery, more interested in material gain. They help her out of the room as they've found what they can for now. And with that, Shynivia found a mentor in the form of a book. She learned the basics of it, focusing on the use of her body and is starting to understand what the element is inside her. She joins with a few more expeditions but started to grow tired of already discovered places. She yearned to be the one to discover the ruins, not just visit them after another tells of it. So why not journey to an unknown place, where many already roam and who knows how many were there before. The Savage Frontier, the 'Savage' didn't scare her, the 'Frontier' excited her. A place to be a pioneer for her goal.