Post/Author/DateTime	Post
Redyak 06-26-03, 02:56 PM	Most roleplayers love to talk about their characters. This thread is for just that. Post any of your characters, be it PC or NPC, current or past, in this thread. Try to focus on the character side of them, not the statistics. It's more fun to read about a character's background, personality, and whatnot than it is to read that they are a Level 12 Fighter/Rogue with 26 Dexterity, etc. If you really want to post your level or stats, please do it at the end of your post, so it's the last thing we see and doesn't take focus off the description of the character. I'll start with my current character. Joshua Tansden is an aspiring musician, archer, and magician, all in one package. He's a dark-haired human of average height and build, with a quick eye and even quicker hand. While his command of magic is negligible, his dead-aim archery skills and memorable musical performances are nothing to scoff at. Joshua's life has been very stressful as of late. The first adventuring group that he traveled with was slain by monstrous spiders just as he was beginning to regard them as his friends; the subsequent group he adventured with met a similar fate at the claws of ravaging ghouls. In both cases, Joshua was the only survivor, left physically unharmed but mentally scarred. Since the demise of the second group Joshua traveled with, he has mainly kept to himself, at least in dangerous situations. He is at heart very adventurous and a social person, but he doesn't want to see another group die before his eyes. His "survivor's mentality" is often in full swing. He feels guilt at being the only member left of the two parties, and also is beginning to feel as if he is destined to outlive all those around him in dangerous situations. He is often more concerned with the safety of others when called into combat, as he fully believes (irrationally) that even if they meet grisly deaths he will be spared, as he has always been. Joshua tries often to commemorate his two fallen parties in tale and song, but this brings him great sadness. For it is not the living exploits of Joshua's friends that bring his audience to the edge of their seats, it is the tale of their demise. Crowds love tragedy, something that irks Joshua to no end. Recently, Joshua found his world turned upside-down while staying a night at the Belladonna Inn. The entire inn was enveloped in a treacherous mist, killing many of its occupants and sending the rest fleeing into the inn's cellar. As the mist lifted, Joshua found that he and his companions had been transported to the country of Barovia in the dark realm of Ravenloft. Given what he's been through, it's remarkable that Joshua's psyche is still relatively intact. Unfortunately, relatively is the key word. In times of great fear or stress, Joshua often finds himself at the breaking point of sanity. His actions during these difficult times are very random, full of entropy. While he has never done anything to hurt his friends or innocent bystanders during his "vacation from reality," his actions rarely help them either. Recent examples include a time where Joshua found a grisly corpse, mangled by a wereworf, and panicked. He gave his all into following nearby werewolf tracked, vigilantly tracking the beast. Unfortunately, no one else could see the tracks, and they did not really exist. It should not be said that insanity is Joshua's only response to danger, however. Upon learning that the Burgomeister of the town he was staying in was an undead fiend and his staff were all zombies, Joshua organized the town to take action. He whipped up a frenzied mob to take matters into their own hands and burn down the burgomeister's mansion. While the mob burned the mansion, Joshua and the other survivors of the Belladonna Inn (Joshua's latest adventuring group, who he feels quite protective of) watched for the Burgomeister, ensuring that he did not escape. After a difficult battle, the Burgomeister, his wife (a hag), and their undead minions were defeated, many through being trapped in the mansion and burned. Only time will tell what the future holds for Joshua and the other Survivors of the Belladonna Inn.
Barrid 06-26-03, 04:23 PM	I'll add to this by adding a link to my own story :cool: I posted it a few days ago, but have a whole thread just for this seems a better place for it. Hallian (http://boards1.wizards.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=49579)
Darastrix 06-27-03, 12:55 AM	I like your story Redyak, I wish my co-players would get in to their characters to that extent. I write up everything about my characters and continually take notes to add to their story, so it annoys me to no end when my "co-players don't do it. I'll post my character hopefully tomorrow.
Kordak 06-28-03, 04:57 PM	OK, I'll bite...here's my current character background. Lucian’s Story I still remember that day…I was trying out a new bow my uncle had crafted for me and I wandered too far from the safe haven of Encelliar, our village in the Chondalwood. I heard voices and, rather than run, stayed to see who had come so near to our ancestral territory. These men looked hardened from battle and armed for protection, many of them were carrying nets. I thought it was a hunting expedition concocted to allow some rich merchant to put the finishing touch on some poor Owlbear. I was wrong… Before I knew what was happening, two large hands grabbed me and flung me to the ground with such force that the wind was knocked right out of me. I tried to recover and run, but just then a net was thrown over me! I thought for certain that this was a huge mistake. I looked around at the leering faces of the humans and came to the sad realization that this was exactly why they had come to the forest. The men were Chessentan slavers. Dealers in flesh…Sellers of life…the most despicable sort of creatures to ever walk upon this world. Luckily, they never found my village. The wild elves of Chondalwood are usually very good at “not” being found. I seemed to be the exception on that day. They trussed me up like a wild boar for slaughter and transported me to a camp near Luthcheq, the City of Madness, a place where magic is reviled and my kind are not welcome. The slavers sold me to a Sembian slaver (a member of the Eyeless Mask.) I later found out that it was either sell me cheaply to the Sembian snake or give me up to the Luthcheq authorities for having a “magical nature” as they thought all elves did. It seemed my luck was not going to improve anytime soon. As it turns out, the Sembians are not particularly fond of elves either. I was moved to Daerlun and promptly sold. The people of this city were mostly ill-natured and spoke with Chondathan accents. Drummond, my new master, was only concerned about making money and the days when he would miss a particularly good deal, or lose out on an investment, he would take his frustration out upon me and the other slaves in his service. These were dark days in my life. I was beginning to understand why not many of my people ever wanted to leave the forest; it was because everyone else hated us. Is it because we live longer than the rest of them, or that we seek joy in life while others seek only riches? Just as I was sinking to this new low and giving into my despair, fortune smiled upon me and I met a true friend… The day came when Drummond was able to make his money back on me. He sold me to Methos Selkirk, a member of the most powerful family in Sembia. He was an evil man and his mother, Mirabeta, who visited often, was even worse. I was introduced to the rest of the “servants” of the great house including a large man named Camlyn who tended the horses. Camlyn and I soon became fast friends and we would spend whatever free time we had together discussing our homelands and planning various methods of escape. This was just idle chat. We both knew that escape would be impossible as we had no weapons and no friends other than ourselves. I “served” in that place for close to a year and was witness to many strange things, including visits from dark elves and other evil creatures. One night while I was helping Camlyn with a particularly difficult mare, life took another drastic turn. A storm was raging outside and we were trying to calm the horse. She reared up suddenly and pushed me into a metal post at that exact instant a bolt of lightning hit the same post and the electrical energy coursed through my body. I was knocked unconscious and upon awakening suddenly, a bright flash erupted from hand. Camlyn and I kept this discovery quiet and I soon learned that I could perform other feats of magic, seemingly at will. I remembered others of my family had special talents and realized this power must have lain dormant until the lightning awakened it inside me. It seemed the Luthcheqans were right after all…I did have a “magical nature.” This ability was going to help us escape our servitude. I practiced shaping the magical forces in secret for six months while Camlyn and I planned our escape with newfound hope. The day of opportunity arrived in the form of a large party our master was throwing. We escaped and headed west while the household was in the throws of celebration. Camlyn and I made for The Vast Swamp and from there we hoped to travel to Cormyr. Again, it seemed the lady of luck had other plans for me. We were attacked by a pack of wolves in the night. With Camlyn’s strength and my magic, we fought them off, but not before Camlyn was badly injured. He was too large for me to carry him, but I refused to leave him as he bade me to do. Choice was again taken from me when a wandering Sembian patrol happened upon us. Camlyn was in a bad way and needed help whatever the cost. As he lay unconscious, I called to the guard, fled into the swamp and watched as they took Camlyn from my sight. I vowed then to come back to Sembia and find Camlyn as soon as I had the means. I passed into the swamp and eventually made my way to Cormyr. During my days in the swamp, I befriended a toad and named him Greenback. Greenback is no ordinary toad and our relationship seems to have grown into something more than a friendship. I have told him of the evils of slavery. He now hates that concept as much as I and would have it removed from this world…
Shyhawk 06-28-03, 11:55 PM	:sad:
Vaalingrade Ashland 06-29-03, 09:43 PM	My namesake character Vaalingrade Ashland: Born into House Ashland in the Bard City of Harpsfell in the Free Nation of Chordin, Vaal was destined for a charmed life. But on the night of his eight birthday, it all changed. A cleric of Kayda, god of shadows came to House Ashland and demanded lodging. Vaal's father refused him and ordered him escorted away. As he stormed from the House, the cleric saw young Vaal playing in the garden and unleashed a vile curse: The mark of Kayda was etched painfully into the boy's hand, those who looked upon it would go mad. The one who bore it would bring misfortune to all he loved. That night, a storm settled over the house and lightning set it aflame. Vaal and his older sister, Elana escaped, but while binding the boy's wounds, Elana looked upon the mark and went catatonic. With his sister paralised with madness and his childhood home in ruins, Vaal fled Harpsfell. The next ten years found Vaal in the Chrodini army, investigating rumors of demons on the northern glacier. It was here that Vaal first encountered the Kaydan demons. The monsters slaughtered his regament, drawn by his marked hand. They made sure that he knew who they were and why they did this. But as they were about to slay him, they looked upon his hand, which had come out of its bindings. The mark, while it makes mortals insane, burns demons. Thanks to his curse, Vaal was saved, but stranded in the Chordini Taiga. Ten more years passed as Vaal sought the man who had cursed him across all Ere. In this time, he had used his family's forgotten wealth to finance the best in adventuring gear: A cloak of Elvenkind that let him blend with the shadows, boots the let him leap two stories and stick to walls, twenty daggers that returned to the folds of his cloak when thrown. And finally, his pride and joy. The Last Kiss, a weapon forged with his own blood, that would never harm one it was not intended to harm (+2 Keen, Defending, Merciful Bastard Sword). And so he set out in the darkness, alone for fear of bringing misfortune to another. He returns home now and again to care for his still comatose sister and to give offerings to Dey, Goddess of those who do what they must (CN).
Zoticus 06-29-03, 11:38 PM	Zoticus Bruil was born in a fortified mannor in the Moonseas, a product of an unhappy arranged marriage. His youth was spent away from the house and the perpetual war between his mother and father as much as possible. The stablemaster, a former Zhent scout, taught him equestrian skills and the art of moving unseen and striking with devestating precision. Being the nephew of a powerful man has many advantages which include access to the best education and an unopposed comission as an officer in the military. The marshall training and leadership skills he learned at the academy combined with the stealth learned in his youth made him the perfect canidate to lead an elite band of soldiers on an expedetion to recover an ancient symbol of power for his city-state. Being the nephew of a powerful man also has many disadvantages. Word of the group and it's mission was sold to those who would do harm to the family by removing one of it's rising stars, and the party was ambushed by heavily armed humans and gray orcs. Zoticus managed to escape the ensuing carnage by feining death and floating, like flotsam, down the stream he fell into. Unfortunately, the arrow that pierced his breast through his chain shirt had a nasty poison on it; one that almost ended Zoticus's streak of fortune. He had only barely been able to drag his body from the torrent before collapsing. He awoke days later in a cave. He was shackled to the bed he had rested on with such superbly crafted hand and leg irons that he could neither open them with the sliver of metal he pried from the headboard nor wriggle free of their grasp. After what seemed like hours a tall figure in heavy black armor appeared in the mouth of the cave. She identified herself as Janda the Voice of Bane and proceded to instruct Zoticus on the tenents of the faith. That day when he had awakened in that cave herraled the arrival of a new Zoticus, the Unseen Hand of Bane. Under the guidance of Janda, one of the last remaining Baneliches, only time will tell what the future holds for Zoticus.
Fiantha 07-01-03, 03:32 PM	My current character is Amda, a human female cleric. Amda was born on a tiny little farm in a tiny little village in the middle of nowwhere. She earned her muscles in the fields, and learned to cook in the local noblewoman's kitchen, where she served as a scullery maid to help her family and farm stay afloat. When she learned of the money that could be made adventuring, she decided it was just what she needed to help her beloved, but failing farm. She knew she had no adventuring skills, but was an excellent cook. Amda joined an adventuring company as a hireling; a cook, drover and porter. The party's cleric, recognizing her composure, common sense and piety, trained her as a cleric of Pelor. Although she had nowhere near the skills neccessary to be helpful to such a high level party as the one she traveled with, she was fourth level by the time she left them, to seek her own fortune. She got a job as a barmaid and cook for a seedy tavern, and stayed there until she joined up with her current party. Amda is very shy and demure. A lifetime of servitude- dutiful daughter, invisible maidservant, obedient hireling, has left her unwilling to share her opinions unless she is asked, or they are obviously needed. This only applies to those she views as her social superiors. She is perfectly comfortable around peasants like herself, but they find it hard to believe she is one of them. Nobles and wealthy adventurers awe and humble her, even though she is no longer a destitute serf. She is in a very lonely state right now, because she barely knows her party members and cannot find acceptance among anyone. This character is very new, so she's still a work in progress, but I rather like her. Hope other people do to. --Fiantha
Fox Lee 07-03-03, 11:20 AM	We worked on characters just today, actually... I don't have my guy fully fleshed-out yet, but I am kinda buzzing with enthusiasm to play him ^.^ Luckily, the game starts tomorrow night, so I won't have to wait long! :D Basically, he's an Abilen Aasimar Adherent. To explain that - the Abilen is a race in our homebrew world, a humanoid feline (yeah, I know, everybody has one - but at least ours aren't just a cheap excuse to have naked catwomen running around ;p); Aasimar has been revised to be a template; and the Adherent is a "Holy Warrior" class akin to the Paladin, which is based around the character's ideals rather than the Lawful Good ideal (it works on domains - so, instead of Good and Law, you can have, say, Strength and Family, or Glory and Sun, or Trickery and Magic). Or, in the case of my (as yet unnamed) character, Lust and Healing. He's a young boy who grew up in servitude to some sort of unpleasant fellow who hasn't been fully developed yet - and,while the boy didn't exactly enjoy being a slave, he was sharp enough to know that he had little change of escape... that, and he has always had an odd sort of optimism - not faith in anything or anyone in particular, but just a sort of steadfast belief that no matter how bad things got, someday they would turn out for the best. So while he didn't have the best of lives, he wasn't really miserable for it - and he did try to make the best of the situation by employing his beauty and natural charisma (which he had always been somewhat proud of, and comforted himself with when he felt he had nothing else) to keep himself in favour with his master and his superiors. He even came to fall in a shy, unspoken kind of love with one of his fellow slaves - I'm not sure what race she was yet (yah, I made a straight character for once! :p), but I want it to be some kind of monster-ish race - something that would not conventionally be found attractive (at least not in a roantic way). Perhaps a Maug or something. Or just a Half-Orc. Suggestions would be nice, actually ^^ Anyway, the boy's master had the courage (read: stupidity) to acquire a Githyanki as one of his slaves. This brought a rather abrupt end to him, when the Githyanki's sister came knocking - he was killed, his manor burned down, all that jazz. In his attempt to escape (or her, I guess, as we haven't decided yet), he sent one of his servants - a Nimblewright - to face his attackers, basically telling it to kill anything that got in its way. My character had the misfortune to do exactly that, and - not being the most adept combatant in the world - lost an arm to each rapier before being left for dead in the fire. The Gith warrior did happen to rescue him before he could die - in fact, she proceeded to pull both arms off of the Nimblewright, then took the lot home to her husband, an adamant craftsman (and another PC). The net result being that the boy woke up with horrible scarring over one side of his face (his eye beyond repair), a collection of scars and burns that completely ruined his coat, and an Arm of Nyr (DotF) attached in place of one that he had lost. At this point, he found himself somewhat torn between gratitude - the woman had risked her life to save him, after all, and the man had devoted a great deal of time, effort and XP to replacing his arm - and the absolute horror that was his mangled body. This was the first point where he had found his faith flagging, feeling like he had lost everything - even the shallow physical beauty that had become his "security blanket". Realising the boy was somewhat distressed, the Githyanki man gave him a choice as to whether or not he wanted to have the other arm replaced, and a night to think about it. He spent the night in sort of a dazed stupor, not really able to wrap his mind around the choice he was being presented with, and probably would have still been staring at his metal fingers by morning if one of the low-tier Gods (Serein, a Nature-oriented Godling of Winter) hadn't felt sorry for him. Appearing to him in the night, to offer some words of comfort, Serein tried to ease the boy's heavy heart by leaving him a gift - a ring crafted by Serein's brother, which would allow the young Abilen to conceal his appearance until he was able to cope with his fate. This was both a good and a bad thing. On one hand, it made the boy able to bear what had happened and consent to having his second arm replaced; on the other, however, he clung to the ring as a way to deny his disfigurement, activating the illusion immediately. He was so desperate to do so, in fact, that he began to emebellish his appearance - little things, like changing his patchy fur to pure white, his somewhat scruffy sand-coloured hair to a silky, rather exotic wintery blue (inspired by Serein himself, quite likely). Basically, he went way too far in his attempt to conceal the damage, beginning to lose sight of the simple beauty he had been proud of - trying to capture a false perfection that everyone would admire, so taht he would never have to admit what had happened. This will be about the point where he'll come into the game - kind of depressed, very much in denial - but still believing, still caring about others and now knowing that he has the power to help them. I do plan to have him develop to the point where he will eventually have the courage to drop the illusion and accept what he is, but that's for the game to dictate, or a later story at any rate. Sorry for rambling on ^^; Thanks for listening though, if you did - I needed a bit of a ramble to flesh him out, and I think I like what I've added in the description ^_^ Oh, and as a final note, his fighting style - when he does fight - is based around a combination of Spiked Chain, Improved Trip, and another feat which allows an AoO against opponents when they are getting up from prone. I'll prolly try for Combat Reflexes too, but I think I'll be out of feats by then (have to take something to emebllish my skill points - ugh, two-per-level is so SUCK! The 4-6-8 rule is a Godsend!). So yeah, if the dice roll right, he can play keepaway like a madman (and then use that sexy butt of his for taunting - can't be a Lust Adherent without some base qualities, yanno ;p Kidding, kidding ^^; ). Hee. Fun! And... I think I'm sleepy... ^^;;;
Sisyfos 07-03-03, 02:16 PM	I had this character there on another thread where some people helped me to flesh him out: SYNOPSIS: Zafron Dawnwalker was born to a family with a mother, 2 brothers and one sister. The father of the other children had died 2 years ago in a very mundane accident with a wagon pulled by an ox. Zafron's mother refused to tell anyone anything about Zafron's birth. She kept on claiming that she had done nothing wrong, but to avoid the judgement of the village for her illegitimate child she had to eventually take Zafron away to a monastery of Lathander (the god worshipped the the passed away husband of Zafron's mother) to be raised there. Zafron grew up in the monastery reading the scripts of Lathander and feeling close connection with the god and thus he adopted the ways of a devout worshipper of Lathander (paladin levels). Zafron was a good and wise child and the monks of the order had high hopes for him. In his early teens Zafron started to grow wings and his divine origin became soon apparent for all to see. The locals started to call him "The Miracle of Avinar" and Zafron shied away from his peers and went even deeper into his religious studies and meditation (this is where he turned into a monk). Years passed and Zafron saw little outside his monastery. Then he started to see visions of a great evil arising in the desert. He looked into the old scriptures and found out of an evil cult worshipping elemental lords that had been wreaking havoc in the area in the days passed. Zafron consulted the eldest of the monastery about his visions and was granted a permission to look explore whether those visions were given to him by Lathander. Zafron took his meager possessions and left the monastery to find out if there was anything to his visions. --------- True story: Zafron's mother's husband's spirit had raised to the heavens to Lathander after his death. Lathander had given the spirit permission to watch over his family and when Lathander foresaw that the cult of Tharizdun were to raise again he desired to raise a champion in his name to watch over the lands and fight against the cult. Zafron's mother's husband was given the permission to join his wife once more in his celestial form. The meeting was a joyful one, and gave seed for Zafron to be born. All this left Zafron's mother a bit confused but she believed in her dreams and kept silent about Zafron's origins. Zafron was given to the monastery as was planned and eventually cult of Tharizdun was to be ended by the devout followers of Lathander. ----------- The future: Zafron went through The Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil and emerged mentally tougher, grimmer and more militant. With his comrades he partake in founding an order of knights to defend these lands from whatever that would threaten them. He is now Pal2/Monk3/Templar4/DivineChampion1 ...