After the Last War ended, your group came together as adventurers. You’ve done a bit of everything - challenged cultists, recovered ancient treasures, voyaged to far away lands and delved toward Khyber.
You’ve now been commissioned for a venture into the Mourning. And that’s new. You’ve never been to the Mourning before. Few have, and even fewer have returned.
The Cartographer of Morgrave University recently uncovered a map of Northern Cyre, which they believe to show the location of secret Cannith lab they briefly visited. The Cartographer, a Docent hosted by a damaged Warforged, has been a reliable and generous patron, and their patronage has offered you many additional benefits, from educational assistance to unusual resources.
The Cartographer has commissioned you to travel to Vathirond, and from there, journey north into the ruins of Cyre. Your map shows a trail from Eston to the facility - but this map is from before the calamity, and the Cartographer doesn’t have anything more recent. The facility was working on warforged armor, and when the Cartographer was there, they had nearly finished a suit of powered armor, adapting warforged technology into a suit of armor that humanoids could use. The opportunity to recover such an artefact is an amazing opportunity, and one which will reward you handsomely - if you can get back with it.
I’m looking for 4-5 players who like wordy, character-driven play and who can commit to regular posting. As this is Eberron, I’m open to any races and classes, including UA, and I’m happy to share resources once we’ve got the right team so that you can flesh out and localise your characters if needed. The most important thing is that as this is a character-driven campaign, I’d like to see 2-3 paragraphs of backstory as part of your application, and I’ll be asking for debts and regrets alongside the standard Ideals, bonds and flaws when we build our character sheets. Note that characters are level 10 and have been working together for several years - we’ll spend a bit of time talking about the team’s history once I’ve got my players, but please do address that you’ve been adventuring for a while - you’re no greenhorns!
Roll for stats, rerolling 1s once. You can reroll the array if the total is less than 70. Standard equipment plus 2 uncommon and one rare item (subject to DM veto/negotiation), and 200g in spending money. Common magic items cost 50-100g.
Class : Cleric (nature), with possible multiclass into druid.
Background: Haunted one
Backstory : I couldn't figure out a way to do this that wouldn't take up a huge space, and, though it is sadly one or two paragraphs longer than 3, it gives such a perfect feel for who Jon is that I can hardly bear to edit it down. The character is based on the story of Woodsman from Over the Garden Wall.
A campfire: the party gathers close for a story. The story of Jon Woods...
“We have always lived in the Wood, my father and me. We hunted small creatures, scavenged for fruits and other delights that the Wood provided, and kept a few trails clear for those few travelers who would occasionally come by. Our house was warm, a cozy little place dug into a small hillock where even the deep winter frost couldn’t touch us. Though, I suppose most of that is simply history now. Fond memories, slowly growing cold beneath trees of doubt.”
The campfire crackled as a small log settled into the coals. The smoky air, at odds with the cool, crisp night, caught the moonlight as it trailed into the midnight sky.
“Every month, father would go into the woods alone. ‘I’ll bring you, one day.’ He always said, taking up his lantern and his axe as he stepped through the door. ‘But not today.’ This went on for as long as I could remember, for as long as I was a child. But, one day, things… something went wrong. It was late winter, and though it had snowed all the night before and the winds tore through the trees, the morning came like spring, with warm, wet air weighing down every branch with dew. Father told me to stay inside. It wasn’t the time, but he took up his lantern and axe and walked through the door. A fog – or something like it – rolled around the house, and a lost sight of him a short ways from our home. I thought I saw… something. I shadow, reaching over him like the trees, just before the fog closed. But, he always came back, every time, his face breaking into a smile as he saw me at the window.”
The wind kicked up a spark, and it soared into the night, leaving a thin glowing streak in the air. The moon disappeared behind the clouds, and the night became darker.
“I saw next morning. What was left. I knew something was wrong. There were… candles. I don’t know how else to explain them. Leading me on the trail father always took. It led to the base of an Old Tree. Wider than the Tower at Castle Gridgeham. But, this one. It was as if a storm blew on it and spent all its fury on just that one tree. It was split down to the roots. Blackened husks of wood lay all around, and the forest itself seemed to recoil. The mists remained, but kept out of the clearing. I approached and, at the base of the Old Tree, my father’s axe… his lantern.”
Jon hefted the old iron lantern in demonstration, sending a small shimmer of blue light out in a pale wave from the cloudy glass face.
“Something spoke to me, then. I think there were lots of voices, calling from the mists, but I could only hear the one. It spoke from the tree, from… beneath it. Beneath where the storm had tried to reach. It spoke in my father’s voice.”
Jon blinked heavily and turned his face away from the light. The light pattern of tough bark-skin shifted on his neck as he collected himself.
“My father… the Voice… told me things. About the woods. About why it wasn’t safe anymore. About how my father was safe now, but that I needed to… become him. To grow into him. ‘There must always be a Woodsman.’ I suppose that means me, now, until my father gets back.”
The others at the fire shifted uncomfortably. They had seen the bark pattern on his skin, and seen the kind of magic this… thing wielded through young John.
“Oh, you think he’s dead? I did too. But it spoke with my Father’s voice. How can you explain that? No, I think that if I finish my task, if I find a place to start a new forest, I will get to live with my Father, in the Wood once more.”
Additional Gear : Undecided - probably based thematically more than practically, tbh.
Nasaar grew up among his Ghaal’dar kinsfolk, strong and brave as any hobgoblin could wish. He yearned to prove himself and was urged to become a mercenary, where he could hone his abilities even further. Knowing the wisdom of this, Nassar left his clan's settlement in Darguun and traveled to The Gathering Stone, to apply as a mercenary to House Deneith. House Deneith took him on and he worked as a mercenary, bodyguard, or even a soldier if necessary. He always worked to prove his strength and bravery, using his knowledge of his people as a measuring rod. He traveled as needed, guarding caravans, helping with feuding clans, and earning what money he could to continue onward. His plans always to return home and become a powerful and respected leader of his tribe. After completing his contract with House Deneith , Nasaar has been working with a group of adventurers, their patron, The Cartographer, sending them out on wonderful and skill-honing adventures. They have now been asked to travel into the Mourning itself to seek out a lab. If such a journey is not the true test of bravery and skill, then Nasaar does not know what is. He recalls that, when he was young, he traveled to Lyrenton, an abandoned city near his tribal settlement, where, at night, a terrible wailing that echoes among the ruins can be heard for miles across the plains. He knows that going into the Mourning will be a great and true test of everything he has done up to this point. He has to remember that bravery is good, but being smart and brave is better. As they prepare for the journey ahead, he does his research and preparations, trying to make sure he is ready for this test of his metal.
Nasaar tries to emulate Muut and Atcha in his life and relations with others. He sees the Cartographer as his leader, and believes his duty is to follow the Cartographer's dictates. He also sees his duty to his companions and, even after the years of being seperated from his tribe, his duty to return to them one day and help lead them into the future. He also works to find honorable and Atcha-worthy ways of fulfilling the tasks given him, hoping to be able to return home to his people one day and have his acts seen as honorable and worthy of respect.
Nasaar came into contact with a crystal shard from the shadow plane during one of the missions for the Cartographer. Contact with this shard gave him a link to a mysterious entity from that plane, who sometimes speaks to Nasaar through the link. The shard was lost long ago, but the link has remained. Nasaar is hesitant to follow what the voice tells him, but is not above using the power granted to him. For the most part he is a fight smarter not harder type, who researches battle tactics and strategies often. He incorporates the power from the shadow realm in his tactics often, and couples that with his own wizardly studies.
Zilpip, like many of his race, is fascinated by the world. Every minute is filled with wonder and excitement. He is one of several siblings raised by scientists, all of whom share his love of learning ... and five fingers (and one thumb) on each hand. He spent over a century going to school and then working in the family lab, examining physical and magical sciences before beginning to feel a self-driven push toward leaving the confines of the lab. With so many working in the same lab, redundancy abounded, which was counterproductive to the advancement of anyone or anything. While the thrill of competition added excitement to discovery, and even provided encouragement to produce results as quickly as possible, it still meant two or more working on a solution to the same question.
Deciding to leave the proverbial nest, Zilpip went through a thorough analysis of the various types of skills needed to survive in hostile environments. He was already slowly growing in a proficiency with specialized magic, but it was pointed out to him by several siblings (and his mother) a failing he has where magic is concerned: He is unable to properly wield offensive magic when a living target is involved. Even the simplest attack spells die on his lips. No matter how much he worked, something about the process ... or perhaps his emotional state ... guaranteed a failure. They felt if he continued down this path, he was sure to be seen as an untoward teammate. Analyzing all others, he finally decided upon firearms.
Besides choosing and working on his skills with guns, Zilpip was also encouraged to embrace his interest in medicine and natural inclination toward helping the injured. Zilpip and a few siblings would often offer services to adventurers seeking the aid of healers. While clerics are generally easy to find, Zilpip and his sibs offered aid without the usual verbal accompaniment proclaiming the power of this god or that. They simply helped. No sales pitch. No guilt trip. Zilpip even invented a companion — a mechanical construct — to help in these efforts. To the amusement of many, the construct looks almost exactly like Zilpip, though its outer shell is silver instead of blue like his skin, and it does not need to wear clothes. It even has five fingers and one thumb on each hand.
When Zilpip (and his critical family) thought he was ready enough, Zilpip left home to experience and test the world as an adventuring scientist. It took a while, but he finally fell in with a team patient enough with his curiosity and thankful for his talents.
Additional Gear: Thinking shield +2, adamantine half plate, and goggles of night ... but we can talk about it
Backstory - Slag was created by some of the best dwarven crafters of the Shimmer-Rock Clan. Although many warforged were built for fighting, Slag had a different purpose. He was built to create. Armor, weapons, magic items.. he spent many much of his life creating items to be used by the dwarves to aid them in winning the war. After quickly climbing through the crafter ranks within his clan, Slag sought a new purpose. Slag wanted to venture out of the mountain stronghold he had only ever known and see the world... He wanted to find a new reason to invent and new challenges to overcome with his incredible gift.
Shortly after setting out on his own, Slag joined up with a group of adventurers in the hopes of seeing the world and testing the limits of his powers. Using his wide arrays of tools at his disposal, he would support his companions over the years... primarily through his helpful and dangerous potions and other magical creations. Over the years, the warforged has suffered many burns and scars as the result of his failed experiments with his elixirs. Although his appearance is somewhat frightening to those that do don't know him because of this.. The warforged is actually very friendly. When working on his elixirs and latest magical items, Slag will often ask his assistant Sluggo for help. The bubbling green Homunculus is a great help to Slag and his companions. Lookingg very much like some kind of bubbling green ooze with thin tendril like arms, Sluggo is always there to Help in any way he can.
Additional Gear - (Lots! Holy crap a level 10 artificer gets a lot! This is way different than the UA I remember.. same with warforged.. holy poop!)
"So you wanna know my past?" Koda said as he too a long sip from his mug. He adjusted the cloth that covered his eyes and then leaned in. "Well I suppose you bought me my drink." Koda paused and took another sip from his drink. "I enlisted with the Cyre military as soon as I was able to. The Queen was the rightful heir after all and her siblings were nothing but pretenders. Our cause was just and our intentions were Noble." He paused again and looked into his mug as if his eyes still worked.
"I guess I distinguished myself enough on the battlefield for the brass to notice me. I ended up joining the Queen's Hands, a covert group that took on missions of Great importance for Cyre. We did whatever it took to win the war. So I lied, I cheated, I bribed men to cover the crimes of other men. I have killed countless men, women, and warforged if you want to count them and you know what that got me? Nothing. Cyre is gone, my home is now a wasteland and my people have been scattered to the winds." Koda took a deep breath. After a few minutes a small smile appears on his disheveled face.
"I'll be going back you know. I have a contract to go back into the... Mournland. Maybe I'll find some answers there. The gold can't hurt either." A barmaid walks by and Koda takes a sip as he watches her for a few moments before focusing back on the conversation. "Not sure why I've been telling you this. Guess i'm feeling mighty lonely. Koda takes a bite on the dry, miserable chicken breast that has been cooling on the plate in front of him. "Well, I gotta meet with my team, thanks for the drink." Koda stands up and finishes the last of his ale. "My eyes?" Koda chuckles. "I don't need em." And with that Koda walks out into the rainy streets. The water washes some of the grime off of his old armor.
backstory:Dr.Calastar was once a regular doctor who patched up simple wounds and helped to take care of the sick where he could. He once possessed a great optimism which was what some called his greatest strength, and what he considers now as his greatest weakness. As the Great War started Calastar found to many patients and to much destruction, and it was to much for him so he secluded himself away into his own home and only occasionally leaving to the library to acquire a new book. Soon the war and the suffering became second nature to him and he began to care less and less for the suffering of those caught up in, and soon he became entranced with the ideas of necromancery and the line between life and death blurred for him. He read and read learning more about the line of death and life, as he soul slipped deeper into darker studies it happened, the mourning, an events that shook Calastar to his core and reignited some of his old feelings. He couldn’t believe what has happened, and deep down he began to believe his studies could be used to prevent this sort of thing from happening again, he had to be the stopper from another Great War from rattling the land, by any means needed.
Debt:foolishly in my studies I incurred debt that I need to repay to certain people who sell magical items
Regret:I deep down regret the choices I have made on this path, a part of me knows I can not go back, now my only choice I must continue along this path to prevent this from happening again
additional gear:pearl of power, ring of spell storing, and a bag of holding
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Marvarax andSora (Dragonborn) The retired fighter and WIP scholar - Glory
Brythel(Dwarf), The dwarf with a gun - survival at sea
Jaylin(Human), Paladin of Lathander's Ancient ways - The Seven Saints (Azura Claw)
Urselles(Goblin), Cleric of Eldath- The Wizard's challenge
Viclas Tyrin(Half Elf), Student of the Elven arts- Indrafatmoko's Defiance in Phlan
Backstory: A cheat. But not good enough to be a thief. A scoundrel. A boil on the face of society. That is what most people would say about Parrywood Rosesorrow. To have met him would be a curse. Because he would either be constantly trying to swindle you or begging for coin. After being tired of being looked down upon, being weak, being a burden... he was presented with power. He would never be a burden all he had to do was a favor for the nice demon... he hasn't cashed in yet. And poor Parrywood doesn't even know what that would entail. But he goes about his days much happier now. Content as an adventurer and being a sought after commodity.
Additional Gear: Wand of Fireballs, Rod of Pact Keeper +1, Ring of Water Walking. Bought: Studded Leather
Name: Griff the Gentle Race: Half-Orc Class: Paladin (Oath of the Ancients) Background: Folk Hero Backstory:
Since his birth, the world saw Griff as a orc. As a half-orc growing up in a middling sized town, his ancestry made him the target for bullying from a young age. He could always stand up for himself, but always felt more human than orc. His rough exterior belied a deep-seeded kindness and love for all of natures creations. Growing up, Griff would spend time wandering the local forests and woods, enjoying the solitude. He would often sit for hours meditating within hidden groves and glades. This was his retreat from the way the world looked at him on a daily basis.
His love of nature came from his mother, Rysta and she taught him of the good graces of Ehlonna. Rysta always endured far worse treatment from the townsfolk than even Griff. The men and women of the village feared the half-orc, but particularly despised his mother for keeping this "dangerous monster" so close. Rysta did her best to shield Griff from these accusations, but as he grew they were impossible to ignore.
Late one evening, a small mob descended on Rysta and Griff's home to attempt to ride their town of the half-orc. Rysta stood between the mob and her son, but was soon tossed aside, bloodied on the floor. Despite his gentle nature, Griff was still part orc, and seeing his mother injured sent him into a blind rage, defending his home against the intruders. Before he new what happened, two men were dead on the floor. Before his mother even woke up, Griff had fled the town.
Since that night, Griff pledged an oath to Ehlonna to protect the innocent from those who would do harm. For years now, he has wandered the countryside helping those he can. As legend of the kind orc began to spread across the lands, the moniker Griff the Gentle had stuck. He had become known as a hero who would appear when most needed and he was glad that people could finally see through his rough exterior.
Additional Gear: +2 Halberd, Adamantine Plate, Hat of Disguise
Backstory: Elias was raised in a Druid clan. While growing up, he learned the ways of his family and even managed to master his wildshape skills. However, after his village was destroyed and Elias was left for dead, he began searching for those responsible. On his quest for justice, he picked up helpful skills for tracking and protecting himself. His Druid skills gave him an advantage in survival, and he learned to wield a blade and a bow through the various adventurers with which he traveled. Elias is often torn between the job at hand and his desire to avenge the brutal end of his family and friends. With the loss of these close bonds and his passion for protecting nature from the industrial machine, Elias is much more comfortable with the animals and plants than he is other beings with which he interacts.
Additional Gear: Looking into some different Bow and Arrow combinations, and a bag of holding.
Backstory: In the beginning it was only war, attacking, defending, and repeat. We were relentless we never slept, we never ate, and always pushing forward towards our objective. Strangely enough I never paid any attention of my fellow units. Neither of us did really but during the final stretch of the war most of us were gone. Anyway, during the final battle of the last war. My unit was given instruction to hold the line while the “Flesh Bags” retreated to safety. Bet your ass we held that line but, at a cost. The last of my old unit died and so did I. I don’t know what happen, one minute it was darkness then all of a sudden I heard a voice calling out to me “You are marked for greatness and your combat abilities will be put to the test. Come see me when you wake up.” Next thing I knew I woke up and my mind was clear. Emerging from the battlefield littered with warforged. After waking up I began to feel these feeling of frustration and anger bottle up inside. I have never felt it before but walking up in a field littered with my fellow warforged. I continued moving from one skirmish to the next until I found you all. Hopefully that lab can help me find what ever caused me to come back.
Additional Gear: +2 Maul, +1 Shield, and Helm of Comprehending Languages.
Class: Rogue(1)/Fighter[Eldritch Knight](5)/Monk(1)/Warlock[Fiend, Pact of the Blade](3)
Background: Urban Bounty Hunter
Backstory: Elves are evil, Elves are the enemy, Elves must be killed. This was the mantra told to Quarion Amascient since childhood growing up inside Cul`That an Umbragen City in the Underworld. The tasks given to him were simple: This is your mark, go to the surface, find it, kill it and return.
And this is what Quarion did for a living and he was rather good at it until he met Jenneleth Galanodel his latest mark and fell in love with her. He couldn`t kill her and decided to quit his old life, take up his new name Yorrik and stay on the surface. For a millenial it was a wonderful arrangement. They had three lovely children a boy named Vall and two daugthers Bryn and Mella. Then his past caught up with him and his former "friends" from the underworld found him and his Family. They killed Jenneleth but fortunately he could eliminate the assassins befor his kids were harmed.
Now his live has a new purpose. Drows are evil, Drows are the enemy, Drows must be killed. One day he will need to return to Cul`That and set some records straight. He broke up his ties to his children as not to put them in further danger. Until the time comes he needs to prepare for what will happen. Some time ago he joined a group of adventures to achieve this goal. They give him some sense of companionship.
Additional Gear: Hellfire Weapon, Boots of Elvenkind, Bracers of Defense
Debts: He fled his drow brothers while working for them and now the seek to kill him.
Regrets: Numerous but the biggest ones obviously are not being able to see his children grow up and his poor live choices like giving over his soul to some fiend for revenge.
Backstory: Calrych was part of a mercenary group of shifters who fought during the Last War, whatever event caused the Mourning killed the rest of his pack and left him haunted by their spirits. Lost and aimless without his pack, he sought out a new one, falling in with the group. He has adopted his new pack, but the spirits of his lost one never left him. When he heard about this opportunity to go into the Mournland, and even a fragment of a possibility of learning what caused it, his ancestors began to visit his dreams and urge him to accept. In general, his role in the group is as the muscle and tracker. However, due to his strong sense of pack, he also finds himself in the role of peacemaker when tempers flare within the group. In social situations, he is uncomfortable in large groups and with important individuals, but is able to associate fairly well with the servant classes. Rather than try and cure him of his discomfort, the party has learned the usefulness of acquiring information from servants, who are practically invisible to their "betters". Initially his tendency to pick things up absentmindedly, and periodically break them, was a source of frustration for his group, till one of them took him aside and worked with him a little. Now, though his habit remains, upon a signal from the party, he is able to quite naturally cause a scene, distracting onlookers for a few moments while others take advantage of the opportunity to carry out more subtle actions.
Debts: Two main debts, one to the group for taking him in and giving him a place in the world when he desperately needed one; and one to his former pack, feeling that by being the last survivor, he must somehow make up for all their lives.
Regrets: He sometimes feels regret for not dying with his kin, but has mostly gotten over that with help from the group. However, he still sometimes regrets his tribe entering the war at all, after all, it wasn't their fight.
Additional Gear: Cloak of Protection, Javelin of Lightning, Greataxe +2
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Name: Dylian
Race: Half-elf (Fey + Elf)
Class: Sorcerer (Wild Magic)
Background: Sailor
Backstory:
Unlike most Half-Elves, Dylian was not born of Human and Elf, but rather from Fey and Elf. His father was an elf, a kind and calm man named Kirian. Who fell in love with Dylian’s mother, a Dryad named Ceana (Keh-na), in the material plane. Ceana then took Kirian to Ceana’s home, the Feywilds, where they had three children together. The first child born was Iana (Eye-ah-Nah), a girl that was more Fey than Elf, she lives in the Feywilds to this day. The second child born was Decatys (Deh-cah-tis), another girl, this one more Elf than Fey, she went to the Material Plane at the age of 34. The final child born was none other than Dylian himself, though his birth name was actually Dyran (Dee-err-in), he changed his name soon after he went to the Material Plane, at the age of 21.
Dylian’s arrival on the Material Plane was not smooth, as the method of arrival for non-feys is rough, to say the least. It consists of falling into orbit with a slow falling spell cast on you, and hoping you don't land in the ocean, which is exactly what happened to Dylian. He was falling towards open waters in the middle of an ocean, luckily there was a ship nearby, so he managed to fall onto that instead. The ship he landed, the SS Bombardier, was on a year-long expedition, and only 2 months had passed since they left the harbor. Seeing as there was no chance that Dylian was going to get off early, he spent the next 10 months on the ship, getting to know the crew members, learning how to man a ship, and becoming a sailor. When Dylian finally arrived at the mainland, he decided that he would continue being a sailor, as that was the only thing he had really learned. Though he eventually got sick of swabbing decks, and so he started trying to hone his powers more.
Additional Gear: Elven Chain (Rare), Hat of Disguise (Uncommon), Robe of Useful Items (Uncommon) (How should we pick the patches that are on it? Should I roll, you roll, or you pick?)
Backstory: Kaz wasn't raised. From the time he can remember he was groomed to be an agent. Not just any agent.
He is the personal agent of Deathys D'Cannith. In the perpetual political war of the leaders of the House, Kaz is an ace in the hand.
He longs for freedom but knows that he can never really leave the grasp of his foster father. Through a combination of love, threats, and outright blackmailing he is firmly tied to Deathys schemes. Betraying him would be a death sentence for Kaz.
Kaz needs to belong. Because of his strange upbringing he sees betrayal as the most hateful thing to do which is strange for a man in his position. All the time he has served Deathys he has managed to remain loyal to his friends and protect them from the overbearing leader of the House.
Ooc: Tell me if you need more. Just tried to be concise but I can had a lot more background if needed
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After the Last War ended, your group came together as adventurers. You’ve done a bit of everything - challenged cultists, recovered ancient treasures, voyaged to far away lands and delved toward Khyber.
You’ve now been commissioned for a venture into the Mourning. And that’s new. You’ve never been to the Mourning before. Few have, and even fewer have returned.
The Cartographer of Morgrave University recently uncovered a map of Northern Cyre, which they believe to show the location of secret Cannith lab they briefly visited. The Cartographer, a Docent hosted by a damaged Warforged, has been a reliable and generous patron, and their patronage has offered you many additional benefits, from educational assistance to unusual resources.
The Cartographer has commissioned you to travel to Vathirond, and from there, journey north into the ruins of Cyre. Your map shows a trail from Eston to the facility - but this map is from before the calamity, and the Cartographer doesn’t have anything more recent. The facility was working on warforged armor, and when the Cartographer was there, they had nearly finished a suit of powered armor, adapting warforged technology into a suit of armor that humanoids could use. The opportunity to recover such an artefact is an amazing opportunity, and one which will reward you handsomely - if you can get back with it.
I’m looking for 4-5 players who like wordy, character-driven play and who can commit to regular posting. As this is Eberron, I’m open to any races and classes, including UA, and I’m happy to share resources once we’ve got the right team so that you can flesh out and localise your characters if needed. The most important thing is that as this is a character-driven campaign, I’d like to see 2-3 paragraphs of backstory as part of your application, and I’ll be asking for debts and regrets alongside the standard Ideals, bonds and flaws when we build our character sheets. Note that characters are level 10 and have been working together for several years - we’ll spend a bit of time talking about the team’s history once I’ve got my players, but please do address that you’ve been adventuring for a while - you’re no greenhorns!
Roll for stats, rerolling 1s once. You can reroll the array if the total is less than 70. Standard equipment plus 2 uncommon and one rare item (subject to DM veto/negotiation), and 200g in spending money. Common magic items cost 50-100g.
i am a 18 year old guy with my sword and shield, i am the strength of the group. i have a pet owl named Kim.
sorry for the lack of background, im new and wish to play a game of DnD. ill edit later
Ability scores: 14 8 12 17 10 13
A campfire: the party gathers close for a story. The story of Jon Woods...
“We have always lived in the Wood, my father and me. We hunted small creatures, scavenged for fruits and other delights that the Wood provided, and kept a few trails clear for those few travelers who would occasionally come by. Our house was warm, a cozy little place dug into a small hillock where even the deep winter frost couldn’t touch us. Though, I suppose most of that is simply history now. Fond memories, slowly growing cold beneath trees of doubt.”
The campfire crackled as a small log settled into the coals. The smoky air, at odds with the cool, crisp night, caught the moonlight as it trailed into the midnight sky.
“Every month, father would go into the woods alone. ‘I’ll bring you, one day.’ He always said, taking up his lantern and his axe as he stepped through the door. ‘But not today.’ This went on for as long as I could remember, for as long as I was a child. But, one day, things… something went wrong. It was late winter, and though it had snowed all the night before and the winds tore through the trees, the morning came like spring, with warm, wet air weighing down every branch with dew. Father told me to stay inside. It wasn’t the time, but he took up his lantern and axe and walked through the door. A fog – or something like it – rolled around the house, and a lost sight of him a short ways from our home. I thought I saw… something. I shadow, reaching over him like the trees, just before the fog closed. But, he always came back, every time, his face breaking into a smile as he saw me at the window.”
The wind kicked up a spark, and it soared into the night, leaving a thin glowing streak in the air. The moon disappeared behind the clouds, and the night became darker.
“I saw next morning. What was left. I knew something was wrong. There were… candles. I don’t know how else to explain them. Leading me on the trail father always took. It led to the base of an Old Tree. Wider than the Tower at Castle Gridgeham. But, this one. It was as if a storm blew on it and spent all its fury on just that one tree. It was split down to the roots. Blackened husks of wood lay all around, and the forest itself seemed to recoil. The mists remained, but kept out of the clearing. I approached and, at the base of the Old Tree, my father’s axe… his lantern.”
Jon hefted the old iron lantern in demonstration, sending a small shimmer of blue light out in a pale wave from the cloudy glass face.
“Something spoke to me, then. I think there were lots of voices, calling from the mists, but I could only hear the one. It spoke from the tree, from… beneath it. Beneath where the storm had tried to reach. It spoke in my father’s voice.”
Jon blinked heavily and turned his face away from the light. The light pattern of tough bark-skin shifted on his neck as he collected himself.
“My father… the Voice… told me things. About the woods. About why it wasn’t safe anymore. About how my father was safe now, but that I needed to… become him. To grow into him. ‘There must always be a Woodsman.’ I suppose that means me, now, until my father gets back.”
The others at the fire shifted uncomfortably. They had seen the bark pattern on his skin, and seen the kind of magic this… thing wielded through young John.
“Oh, you think he’s dead? I did too. But it spoke with my Father’s voice. How can you explain that? No, I think that if I finish my task, if I find a place to start a new forest, I will get to live with my Father, in the Wood once more.”
Ability scores: 10 9 12 17 15 13
Name: Nasaar
Race: Hobgoblin (Ghaal’dar)
Class: Warlock 1 / Wizard 9 (abjuration school)
Background: Sage
Backstory:
Nasaar grew up among his Ghaal’dar kinsfolk, strong and brave as any hobgoblin could wish. He yearned to prove himself and was urged to become a mercenary, where he could hone his abilities even further. Knowing the wisdom of this, Nassar left his clan's settlement in Darguun and traveled to The Gathering Stone, to apply as a mercenary to House Deneith. House Deneith took him on and he worked as a mercenary, bodyguard, or even a soldier if necessary. He always worked to prove his strength and bravery, using his knowledge of his people as a measuring rod. He traveled as needed, guarding caravans, helping with feuding clans, and earning what money he could to continue onward. His plans always to return home and become a powerful and respected leader of his tribe.
After completing his contract with House Deneith , Nasaar has been working with a group of adventurers, their patron, The Cartographer, sending them out on wonderful and skill-honing adventures. They have now been asked to travel into the Mourning itself to seek out a lab. If such a journey is not the true test of bravery and skill, then Nasaar does not know what is. He recalls that, when he was young, he traveled to Lyrenton, an abandoned city near his tribal settlement, where, at night, a terrible wailing that echoes among the ruins can be heard for miles across the plains. He knows that going into the Mourning will be a great and true test of everything he has done up to this point. He has to remember that bravery is good, but being smart and brave is better. As they prepare for the journey ahead, he does his research and preparations, trying to make sure he is ready for this test of his metal.
Nasaar tries to emulate Muut and Atcha in his life and relations with others. He sees the Cartographer as his leader, and believes his duty is to follow the Cartographer's dictates. He also sees his duty to his companions and, even after the years of being seperated from his tribe, his duty to return to them one day and help lead them into the future. He also works to find honorable and Atcha-worthy ways of fulfilling the tasks given him, hoping to be able to return home to his people one day and have his acts seen as honorable and worthy of respect.
Nasaar came into contact with a crystal shard from the shadow plane during one of the missions for the Cartographer. Contact with this shard gave him a link to a mysterious entity from that plane, who sometimes speaks to Nasaar through the link. The shard was lost long ago, but the link has remained. Nasaar is hesitant to follow what the voice tells him, but is not above using the power granted to him. For the most part he is a fight smarter not harder type, who researches battle tactics and strategies often. He incorporates the power from the shadow realm in his tactics often, and couples that with his own wizardly studies.
Extra items:
Mithril Half Plate
Robe of Protection
Ring of Spell Storing
Ability scores: 6 17 15 9 12 12
Zilpip, like many of his race, is fascinated by the world. Every minute is filled with wonder and excitement. He is one of several siblings raised by scientists, all of whom share his love of learning ... and five fingers (and one thumb) on each hand. He spent over a century going to school and then working in the family lab, examining physical and magical sciences before beginning to feel a self-driven push toward leaving the confines of the lab. With so many working in the same lab, redundancy abounded, which was counterproductive to the advancement of anyone or anything. While the thrill of competition added excitement to discovery, and even provided encouragement to produce results as quickly as possible, it still meant two or more working on a solution to the same question.
Deciding to leave the proverbial nest, Zilpip went through a thorough analysis of the various types of skills needed to survive in hostile environments. He was already slowly growing in a proficiency with specialized magic, but it was pointed out to him by several siblings (and his mother) a failing he has where magic is concerned: He is unable to properly wield offensive magic when a living target is involved. Even the simplest attack spells die on his lips. No matter how much he worked, something about the process ... or perhaps his emotional state ... guaranteed a failure. They felt if he continued down this path, he was sure to be seen as an untoward teammate. Analyzing all others, he finally decided upon firearms.
Besides choosing and working on his skills with guns, Zilpip was also encouraged to embrace his interest in medicine and natural inclination toward helping the injured. Zilpip and a few siblings would often offer services to adventurers seeking the aid of healers. While clerics are generally easy to find, Zilpip and his sibs offered aid without the usual verbal accompaniment proclaiming the power of this god or that. They simply helped. No sales pitch. No guilt trip. Zilpip even invented a companion — a mechanical construct — to help in these efforts. To the amusement of many, the construct looks almost exactly like Zilpip, though its outer shell is silver instead of blue like his skin, and it does not need to wear clothes. It even has five fingers and one thumb on each hand.
When Zilpip (and his critical family) thought he was ready enough, Zilpip left home to experience and test the world as an adventuring scientist. It took a while, but he finally fell in with a team patient enough with his curiosity and thankful for his talents.
Ability scores: 15 8 12 17 13 13
Slag was created by some of the best dwarven crafters of the Shimmer-Rock Clan. Although many warforged were built for fighting, Slag had a different purpose. He was built to create. Armor, weapons, magic items.. he spent many much of his life creating items to be used by the dwarves to aid them in winning the war. After quickly climbing through the crafter ranks within his clan, Slag sought a new purpose. Slag wanted to venture out of the mountain stronghold he had only ever known and see the world... He wanted to find a new reason to invent and new challenges to overcome with his incredible gift.
Shortly after setting out on his own, Slag joined up with a group of adventurers in the hopes of seeing the world and testing the limits of his powers. Using his wide arrays of tools at his disposal, he would support his companions over the years... primarily through his helpful and dangerous potions and other magical creations. Over the years, the warforged has suffered many burns and scars as the result of his failed experiments with his elixirs. Although his appearance is somewhat frightening to those that do don't know him because of this.. The warforged is actually very friendly. When working on his elixirs and latest magical items, Slag will often ask his assistant Sluggo for help. The bubbling green Homunculus is a great help to Slag and his companions. Lookingg very much like some kind of bubbling green ooze with thin tendril like arms, Sluggo is always there to Help in any way he can.
Ability scores: 13 13 13 13 17 14
Name: Koda
Race: Kalashtar
Class: Fighter (Samurai)
Background: Soldier
"So you wanna know my past?" Koda said as he too a long sip from his mug. He adjusted the cloth that covered his eyes and then leaned in. "Well I suppose you bought me my drink." Koda paused and took another sip from his drink. "I enlisted with the Cyre military as soon as I was able to. The Queen was the rightful heir after all and her siblings were nothing but pretenders. Our cause was just and our intentions were Noble." He paused again and looked into his mug as if his eyes still worked.
"I guess I distinguished myself enough on the battlefield for the brass to notice me. I ended up joining the Queen's Hands, a covert group that took on missions of Great importance for Cyre. We did whatever it took to win the war. So I lied, I cheated, I bribed men to cover the crimes of other men. I have killed countless men, women, and warforged if you want to count them and you know what that got me? Nothing. Cyre is gone, my home is now a wasteland and my people have been scattered to the winds." Koda took a deep breath. After a few minutes a small smile appears on his disheveled face.
"I'll be going back you know. I have a contract to go back into the... Mournland. Maybe I'll find some answers there. The gold can't hurt either." A barmaid walks by and Koda takes a sip as he watches her for a few moments before focusing back on the conversation. "Not sure why I've been telling you this. Guess i'm feeling mighty lonely. Koda takes a bite on the dry, miserable chicken breast that has been cooling on the plate in front of him. "Well, I gotta meet with my team, thanks for the drink." Koda stands up and finishes the last of his ale. "My eyes?" Koda chuckles. "I don't need em." And with that Koda walks out into the rainy streets. The water washes some of the grime off of his old armor.
Additional gear: Orb of Direction
Koda Kalashtar Samurai Eberron - The lost Laboratories
Ability score Ability scores: 17 17 13 16 12 15
Name:Dr.Calastar
race:human
class:wizard necromancer
background:hermit
backstory:Dr.Calastar was once a regular doctor who patched up simple wounds and helped to take care of the sick where he could. He once possessed a great optimism which was what some called his greatest strength, and what he considers now as his greatest weakness. As the Great War started Calastar found to many patients and to much destruction, and it was to much for him so he secluded himself away into his own home and only occasionally leaving to the library to acquire a new book. Soon the war and the suffering became second nature to him and he began to care less and less for the suffering of those caught up in, and soon he became entranced with the ideas of necromancery and the line between life and death blurred for him. He read and read learning more about the line of death and life, as he soul slipped deeper into darker studies it happened, the mourning, an events that shook Calastar to his core and reignited some of his old feelings. He couldn’t believe what has happened, and deep down he began to believe his studies could be used to prevent this sort of thing from happening again, he had to be the stopper from another Great War from rattling the land, by any means needed.
Debt:foolishly in my studies I incurred debt that I need to repay to certain people who sell magical items
Regret:I deep down regret the choices I have made on this path, a part of me knows I can not go back, now my only choice I must continue along this path to prevent this from happening again
additional gear:pearl of power, ring of spell storing, and a bag of holding
Marvarax and Sora (Dragonborn) The retired fighter and WIP scholar - Glory
Brythel(Dwarf), The dwarf with a gun - survival at sea
Jaylin(Human), Paladin of Lathander's Ancient ways - The Seven Saints (Azura Claw)
Urselles(Goblin), Cleric of Eldath- The Wizard's challenge
Viclas Tyrin(Half Elf), Student of the Elven arts- Indrafatmoko's Defiance in Phlan
Ability scores: 17 12 13 15 10 10
Gash - Lvl14 Goblin Wizard - The High Court of the Aasimar Queen
Ability scores: 15 16 17 11 16 14
Name: Griff the Gentle
Race: Half-Orc
Class: Paladin (Oath of the Ancients)
Background: Folk Hero
Backstory:
Since his birth, the world saw Griff as a orc. As a half-orc growing up in a middling sized town, his ancestry made him the target for bullying from a young age. He could always stand up for himself, but always felt more human than orc. His rough exterior belied a deep-seeded kindness and love for all of natures creations. Growing up, Griff would spend time wandering the local forests and woods, enjoying the solitude. He would often sit for hours meditating within hidden groves and glades. This was his retreat from the way the world looked at him on a daily basis.
His love of nature came from his mother, Rysta and she taught him of the good graces of Ehlonna. Rysta always endured far worse treatment from the townsfolk than even Griff. The men and women of the village feared the half-orc, but particularly despised his mother for keeping this "dangerous monster" so close. Rysta did her best to shield Griff from these accusations, but as he grew they were impossible to ignore.
Late one evening, a small mob descended on Rysta and Griff's home to attempt to ride their town of the half-orc. Rysta stood between the mob and her son, but was soon tossed aside, bloodied on the floor. Despite his gentle nature, Griff was still part orc, and seeing his mother injured sent him into a blind rage, defending his home against the intruders. Before he new what happened, two men were dead on the floor. Before his mother even woke up, Griff had fled the town.
Since that night, Griff pledged an oath to Ehlonna to protect the innocent from those who would do harm. For years now, he has wandered the countryside helping those he can. As legend of the kind orc began to spread across the lands, the moniker Griff the Gentle had stuck. He had become known as a hero who would appear when most needed and he was glad that people could finally see through his rough exterior.
Additional Gear: +2 Halberd, Adamantine Plate, Hat of Disguise
Character Sheet
Ryndar Shadowsbane - Lvl 3 Eldarin Fighter | Kassar - Lvl 2 Lizardfolk Druid (Circle of Stars) | Finnegan (Finn) Taggert - Lvl 1 Human Cleric (Peace Domain) |
Verdan Schmidt - Lvl 2 Half-Elf Bard | Grithik - Lvl 5 Deep Gnome Warlock (Celestial)
Name: Elias Amberwind
Race: Human
Class: Druid/Ranger
Background: Outlander
Backstory: Elias was raised in a Druid clan. While growing up, he learned the ways of his family and even managed to master his wildshape skills. However, after his village was destroyed and Elias was left for dead, he began searching for those responsible.
On his quest for justice, he picked up helpful skills for tracking and protecting himself. His Druid skills gave him an advantage in survival, and he learned to wield a blade and a bow through the various adventurers with which he traveled.
Elias is often torn between the job at hand and his desire to avenge the brutal end of his family and friends. With the loss of these close bonds and his passion for protecting nature from the industrial machine, Elias is much more comfortable with the animals and plants than he is other beings with which he interacts.
Additional Gear: Looking into some different Bow and Arrow combinations, and a bag of holding.
Ability scores: 14 18 11 15 12 12
https://ddb.ac/characters/10761305/Grg06Z
Ability scores: 12 10 15 14 13 15
Place Holder till I get off work.
Ability Scores: 15 11 10 13 10 18
Anyway, during the final battle of the last war. My unit was given instruction to hold the line while the “Flesh Bags” retreated to safety. Bet your ass we held that line but, at a cost. The last of my old unit died and so did I. I don’t know what happen, one minute it was darkness then all of a sudden I heard a voice calling out to me “You are marked for greatness and your combat abilities will be put to the test. Come see me when you wake up.” Next thing I knew I woke up and my mind was clear. Emerging from the battlefield littered with warforged. After waking up I began to feel these feeling of frustration and anger bottle up inside. I have never felt it before but walking up in a field littered with my fellow warforged. I continued moving from one skirmish to the next until I found you all. Hopefully that lab can help me find what ever caused me to come back.
Felix Windfall(Human-V Lv.7 Rogue) killed in ToA, Vallan Houndstrider (Halfling Ghostwise Lv.1 Fighter) in DiAPlace Holder (in Progress)
Ability scores: 10 16 14 15 11 11
Name: Yorrik van Falkenhain
Race: Elf(Drow)
Class: Rogue(1)/Fighter[Eldritch Knight](5)/Monk(1)/Warlock[Fiend, Pact of the Blade](3)
Background: Urban Bounty Hunter
Backstory: Elves are evil, Elves are the enemy, Elves must be killed. This was the mantra told to Quarion Amascient since childhood growing up inside Cul`That an Umbragen City in the Underworld. The tasks given to him were simple: This is your mark, go to the surface, find it, kill it and return.
And this is what Quarion did for a living and he was rather good at it until he met Jenneleth Galanodel his latest mark and fell in love with her. He couldn`t kill her and decided to quit his old life, take up his new name Yorrik and stay on the surface. For a millenial it was a wonderful arrangement. They had three lovely children a boy named Vall and two daugthers Bryn and Mella. Then his past caught up with him and his former "friends" from the underworld found him and his Family. They killed Jenneleth but fortunately he could eliminate the assassins befor his kids were harmed.
Now his live has a new purpose. Drows are evil, Drows are the enemy, Drows must be killed. One day he will need to return to Cul`That and set some records straight. He broke up his ties to his children as not to put them in further danger. Until the time comes he needs to prepare for what will happen. Some time ago he joined a group of adventures to achieve this goal. They give him some sense of companionship.
Additional Gear: Hellfire Weapon, Boots of Elvenkind, Bracers of Defense
Debts: He fled his drow brothers while working for them and now the seek to kill him.
Regrets: Numerous but the biggest ones obviously are not being able to see his children grow up and his poor live choices like giving over his soul to some fiend for revenge.
Ability scores: 12 14 15 8 16 15
In general, his role in the group is as the muscle and tracker. However, due to his strong sense of pack, he also finds himself in the role of peacemaker when tempers flare within the group. In social situations, he is uncomfortable in large groups and with important individuals, but is able to associate fairly well with the servant classes. Rather than try and cure him of his discomfort, the party has learned the usefulness of acquiring information from servants, who are practically invisible to their "betters". Initially his tendency to pick things up absentmindedly, and periodically break them, was a source of frustration for his group, till one of them took him aside and worked with him a little. Now, though his habit remains, upon a signal from the party, he is able to quite naturally cause a scene, distracting onlookers for a few moments while others take advantage of the opportunity to carry out more subtle actions.
https://ddb.ac/characters/19298194/qIqB85
Unlike most Half-Elves, Dylian was not born of Human and Elf, but rather from Fey and Elf. His father was an elf, a kind and calm man named Kirian. Who fell in love with Dylian’s mother, a Dryad named Ceana (Keh-na), in the material plane. Ceana then took Kirian to Ceana’s home, the Feywilds, where they had three children together. The first child born was Iana (Eye-ah-Nah), a girl that was more Fey than Elf, she lives in the Feywilds to this day. The second child born was Decatys (Deh-cah-tis), another girl, this one more Elf than Fey, she went to the Material Plane at the age of 34. The final child born was none other than Dylian himself, though his birth name was actually Dyran (Dee-err-in), he changed his name soon after he went to the Material Plane, at the age of 21.
Dylian’s arrival on the Material Plane was not smooth, as the method of arrival for non-feys is rough, to say the least. It consists of falling into orbit with a slow falling spell cast on you, and hoping you don't land in the ocean, which is exactly what happened to Dylian. He was falling towards open waters in the middle of an ocean, luckily there was a ship nearby, so he managed to fall onto that instead. The ship he landed, the SS Bombardier, was on a year-long expedition, and only 2 months had passed since they left the harbor. Seeing as there was no chance that Dylian was going to get off early, he spent the next 10 months on the ship, getting to know the crew members, learning how to man a ship, and becoming a sailor. When Dylian finally arrived at the mainland, he decided that he would continue being a sailor, as that was the only thing he had really learned. Though he eventually got sick of swabbing decks, and so he started trying to hone his powers more.
The proud owner of over 8000 hours in Terraria.
Send help pleaseC
Ability scores: 14 17 12 18 16 9(withdrawn)
Name:Kaz Feyigor
Race: Changeling
Class: Rogue (Inquisitive) /Artificer.
Background: Agent (House Cannith)
Backstory: Kaz wasn't raised. From the time he can remember he was groomed to be an agent. Not just any agent.
He is the personal agent of Deathys D'Cannith. In the perpetual political war of the leaders of the House, Kaz is an ace in the hand.
He longs for freedom but knows that he can never really leave the grasp of his foster father. Through a combination of love, threats, and outright blackmailing he is firmly tied to Deathys schemes. Betraying him would be a death sentence for Kaz.
Kaz needs to belong. Because of his strange upbringing he sees betrayal as the most hateful thing to do which is strange for a man in his position. All the time he has served Deathys he has managed to remain loyal to his friends and protect them from the overbearing leader of the House.
Ooc: Tell me if you need more. Just tried to be concise but I can had a lot more background if needed