Question on the druid power "Latch On" from PBH2. It's a wisdom v reflex that, on a hit, deals damage and "you grab the target". Does that mean I still have to go through the strength check to actually grab him, or is it assumed he's already immobilized after I land the wisdom v reflex?
TheBog on
0
Options
Mr_Rose83 Blue Ridge Protects the HolyRegistered Userregular
Question on the druid power "Latch On" from PBH2. It's a wisdom v reflex that, on a hit, deals damage and "you grab the target". Does that mean I still have to go through the strength check to actually grab him, or is it assumed he's already immobilized after I land the wisdom v reflex?
It means they go from not-grabbed to grabbed as part of the hit result of the power. If it wanted you to make a secondary attack to grab the target it would say so.
AegisFear My DanceOvershot Toronto, Landed in OttawaRegistered Userregular
edited May 2011
No, the power automatically grabs the target assuming you hit, no roll for actually grabbing is necessary. He does get an escape check on his turn, naturally, and you would have to expend a minor action to the sustain the grab in subsequent rounds, however.
“Should have taken the main road; a shortcut near the Underdark never did anyone any good,” the woman mutters under her breath.
“A little late for that now, dear, we’re almost there. We just have to make it out into the clearing,” the man replies.
The storm shows no sign of letting up; the couple splash through the grove of trees, desperate to find higher, drier ground. Without warning, five figures burst from the edge of the clearing in front of the couple, obvious from their garb to be bandits searching for easy prey.
The leader, a hobgoblin, marches forward and backhands the man with a casual swing of his mace. The man crumples to the ground without a sound. The woman, terrified, shouts out "Benrick! Leave us alone!"
The humans behind the hobgoblin begin chuckling. In the glare of the sunrods, the corner of the leader's mouth turns upward in a smirk. He raises his mace as the woman cries out.
A crossbow bolt hisses out of the darkness and slices through the hobgoblin’s arm, pinning it to a nearby tree.
“There’s someone else out here, you idiots! Get him!”
As his companions wheel about frantically, trying to find the unknown assailant, four more bolts spring forth and burst into a swarm of insects. The bandits quickly become overwhelmed by the bugs and flee into the woods.
The leader wrenches the bolt out of the tree and his arm and looks around for the mysterious figure. Out of the darkness, a male drow springs forth, wearing hunting leathers and leveling a vicious-looking crossbow at the hobgoblin.
“Now is the time where you should run. I won’t ask twice.”
The hobgoblin swallows hard, glances at his fleeing companions and his bleeding arm, and immediately begins sprinting away from
The drow holsters the crossbow and bends down to examine the fallen human. “He’ll be fine, but he’ll have a bad headache when he awakens. Stick to the main roads; the dark is no place for you.” Without waiting for a response, the drow stands up and melts back into the woods as though he were never there at all.
Background:
Ryltar is quiet and reserved, generally; he allows his allies handle diplomacy. He is honest to the point of bluntness, which often makes those around him cringe from the resulting awkardness. He is ruthless against his enemies, especially those who wish to harm nature, but Ryltar kind and gracious towards women, children and animals.
Didn't take a paragon path, instead choosing to pick up another Hybrid Talent Option (Rageblood Vigor)
Sheet is currently on Myth-Weavers until I can get the offline builder up and running. I'll update it to Orokos once I have the offline builder updated with everything. Just wanted to get the vitals down.
I put all Braylon's powers online outside of the sheet though, you can access them here.
Portrait:
Appearance
A huge, hulking man. Braylon stands six and a half feet, and weighs around 260lbs. He has thick, unkempt red hair and a long beard. Scars adorn his face and arms, symbols of battles past and present. He has more of the appearance of a wild beast than anything else, but his look belies his intelligence.
Mannerisms
Braylon is very well-spoken, but he has a problem with his temper. His inner demons fight to get out, and they manifest themselves in momentary fits of rage. He will smash a mug on a table, or punch through a wall. During these periods, he has even been known to start to change shape into a bear. His face will elongate slightly into a snout, and fangs will protrude from his face. His speech will start to degenerate into a series of growls and roars until he fights off the aggression and returns himself to a sense of calm.
Personality
Braylon is torn by his inner struggles. He constantly fights with the anger inside him. He despises himself when he lapses into a fit of rage, and often is sullen or brooding after such a period.
Despite his anger management issues, Braylon is extremely protective of those around him. If his trust has been earned, he will fight to the death to keep you from harm. On the battlefield, if he sees one of his compatriots attacked and injured, he will come to their aid as quickly as possible, regardless of the number of foes that stand in his way.
Background
Braylon was born to a poor rural family. He grew up tending to his father's flock, but spent most of his time wandering in the nearby woods. He aspired at an early age to be a druid or caretaker of the woods. On his sixteenth birthday he went wandering in the woods as he normally did. This time he ventured further than he ever had before. Night fell, and under the light of a full moon he came across an injured bear. Rushing to help, he realized too late that the beast was not a normal bear, but a cursed lycanthrope. The were-bear attacked him instantly, biting and clawing him to the point that he was on death's door. Instead of killing him, however, it ran off into the woods roaring. Braylon would remember that roar for the rest of his life. It wasn't a roar of anger or rage, but one of pain and suffering.
Braylon recovered from his injuries at an alarming rate, but the attack had left him physically scared, emotionally broken, and cursed with lycanthropy. He fled his home for fear that he would attack his family, and spent several years wandering aimlessly. Each full moon he would transform and rampage through the wilderness. The years passed, and Braylon became more of an animal than a human. He wandered the wilds without purpose, savagely attacking any animal he came across. Then he met a blind monk named Sanphras. Braylon attacked the monk on sight, but the old man easily subdued him, even without his sight. Sanphras took Braylon in and helped him regain his humanity. He also was able to concoct a potion that suppressed Braylon's lycanthropy so that he would no longer change form due to the full moon, although the cure was not able to take away the rage that Braylon felt. Braylon stayed with the monk for a long time, learning to harness his emotions and channel them into positive ends. Over time he was even able to learn to use his emotion to utilize his curse, changing his form to mimic the way in which he is feeling. The rage was still with him, but now he had a way of controlling it and unleashing it.
Knowing that he needed to use his curse to give back to the world, Braylon left the monk and returned to civilization.
Party Motivation
Braylon happened upon the party as they were in the midst of helping a town with a local orc problem. He saw the opportunity to help others, and quickly joined up. Over the course of that adventure, and the ones that came aftewards he came to feel that the party was his family, almost like his cubs, and now he will do anything to protect them.
Illianthar on
0
Options
AegisFear My DanceOvershot Toronto, Landed in OttawaRegistered Userregular
edited May 2011
Just noting ~2 more days for applications for those that mentioned they were working on apps and/or lurkers. I'll likely close apps and decide after work, EST, on the 31st. Also updated current submissions list at the top of this page.
Will be a bard - just don't have any time to put him together right now. Been stalking these boards all day waiting for a game to go up and it looks like I'm still late to the party!
Haven't done any 4e, but am familiar with 2, 3 and 3.5e - is that ok? If not, I understand - no one likes to train the newbie.
Will be a bard - just don't have any time to put him together right now. Been stalking these boards all day waiting for a game to go up and it looks like I'm still late to the party!
Haven't done any 4e, but am familiar with 2, 3 and 3.5e - is that ok? If not, I understand - no one likes to train the newbie.
4th Edition is not very hard to pick up on account of classes functioning off of a core template and the rules in general being extremely consistent.
Aegis, what are your thoughts on submitting the same character, just as two different classes/roles?
By same character I obviously mean race/background/profession/favorite foods etc.
Ehhhhh, I don't know if I'm overly thrilled with the idea of just copy-pasting wholesale the more important aspects of character development. Unless you're trying to do something like represent both of a Kalashtar's souls as different, distinct entities or sides of the singular coin; or a fractured shardmind who has each piece thinking they're a separate...person-crystal-thing. But even then they'd be represented by entirely different personalities and shared experiences.
Background: A short story on Ferris attaining his blood moon stalker paragon path and taking a short trip to the feywild.
How’d he end up here, anyway? Where did he go wrong?
Normally Ferris isn’t one to pity himself. He, more than anyone, understands how the mind descends into panic. But when you’re tied to a stake in an orc camp whose leader you tried to assassinate, and beaten within an inch of your life, you kind of start losing it. Nobody even knew he was here. Nobody was going to save Ferris. He dragged his tongue along the top row of his teeth only to find many gaps and shards. His keen senses were overwhelmed with the metallic taste and smell of his own blood.
It was a full moon out tonight. It rose above the black treeline ahead of him like a beautiful lantern. He could see the orcs leisurely approaching, talking amongst each other, maybe 5 of them. It’s hard to remember. So tired. He couldn’t understand them, but reading their body language wasn’t difficult. The one with the club brought it under his chin and propped it up to look at them as they asked him something. Ferris just smiled his toothy bloody grin.
“Heh… Orcs huh?.. Shit.. Is that how it’s gonna end?”
A smack across his face with the jagged wood made his vision flash white and numbed his face. He felt something break, but he could still see. “Don’t all come at once now.” He tried to taunt them, but it came out as inaudible mumbles through his broken jaw. Dizzy. Another hit made it seem like he was falling.
When he got up, the first thing he clearly saw was the giant bright moon in the sky. It had turned blood red.. Wait.. He was standing? Looking around, he didn’t see the stake he was bound to before. The clearing seemed familiar, but there were no orcs, no stake, no nothing. But he could still hear them as if they were right next to him. He looked at his hands.. felt his face.. Seemed healthy. The woods seemed to close in around him, a gust of warm air rustled the grass. The crickets grew louder. The air thicker.
Movement caught the corner of his eye and he swung around, startled and ready to defend himself. Atop a tall hill stood the silhouette of what appeared to be a huge wolf. And above him now hovered the blood moon. They stood there for a moment, staring at each other. Ferris could only see the wolf’s piercing glowing eyes, motionless.
“Your time will soon run out.” Said the wolf. Perhaps not so much said it, as made Ferris think it. “Remember that you are beastial at heart. The feywild is watching.” The primal spirit pulled his ears back and gnashed his jaws. Images of claws. Teeth. Bloodshot eyes. Steam rising from the carcass of a fresh kill in the snow. The heavy metal clink of a mad dog trying to break free of his chain leash.
As suddenly as Ferris entered, he had slipped out of the feywild and back into the orc camp. They were all standing around the stake totally confused, loose ropes resting in the grass. This was his chance! He didn’t think. Not rationally, anyway. The transformation was seamless as he dove into the orcs from behind, making one stumble backwards into the stake and pinning him there, tearing his throat out before the others could act. An orc raised his club, only to receive a series of sharp spines shooting up and digging into the underside of his arm and his lower face. He fell back on his ass and whined, trying to pull them out one by one. The remaining orcs turned and tried to flee, but one of them got caught by Ferris’ lunging out, catching his leg. The orc fell on his face and tried to grab fistfuls of grass to stop being pulled in, screaming for his friends to help him. And the blood moon hung overhead.
Ferris did end up getting that bounty. Not only did he bring the head of the orc leader, he brought four more, which weren’t exactly asked for.. but it encouraged the captain to give him a little extra. Unclear whether it was as a reward for doing more than was expected of him, or out of fear of displeasing the druid. Ferris’ mouth was still caked in blood as he smiled a courteous smile and nodded, packing the pouch of gold and heading out the door.
Personality:
Ferris is friendly and easy going when it comes to mercenaries. He tries to live every day like it’s his last, especially after the night a primal feywild spirit told him his time will soon run out. But it also saved his life. The feywild and the primals are some of the few things Ferris takes seriously, and yearns to learn more about. He has a ‘survival of the fittest’ type of mindset, and will never back down from a fight if it risks undermining his status as an alpha male. In his mind every victory further elevates his status, so naturally he’s drawn to adventuring and becoming a predator worthy of the feywild’s tutelage.
Appearance:
Outside of town Ferris prefers his bestial form, which is canine in nature. His equipment is bound in a way and effects his transformation (for example his horned helm giving him that property in beast form). In human form he wears a big old dire wolf pelt on his back. Over the years he has taken the blades of dozens of knives and daggers and tied them into the fur of the pelt, which protects him, and translates offensively in his beast form. Unlike most druids he does not use a staff as an implement, but rather the severed paw of the dire wolf he killed when he was young. It hangs around his neck, and you could swear the blood on it was still fresh after all these years. Ferris isn’t a looker, but he’s not exactly ugly either. He’s got a fair number of scars, but being a shifter gives him a sort of rugged wild look which many ladies seem to like. He’s not one to turn them down. After all, what’s more in tune with nature?
Pictures:
History:
Raised by humans, Ferris grew up in a poor neighborhood in a big city. He picked up work where he could, and often snuck out at night outside the city walls to wander around the forest, much to the chagrin of his caretakers. He was particularly good at shifting, and it felt easier at night. He kept practicing until one night he went through a full transformation into a beast. That night too he could’ve sworn he saw a large wolf watching him from afar. Ferris would bring in many kills of deer and such to feed his caretakers, and eventually decided to try his hand at more dangerous game, becoming a mercenary and a bounty hunter.
Basat was happy. Perhaps he shouldn't have been, but he was always good at seeing the light in the darkness. His wife Rose had died shortly after childbirth, but she gave him two lovely daughters, Lily and Daisy.
The clock winds forward. Lily and Daisy are 8. A blood curdling scream comes from the girls' room, and Basat is out of the study in a heartbeat, only to see a silhouette of a large, bloated being stepping into some sort of portal. There was no time to think, only to act. Basat jumped through the portal in pursuit.
There is no rationale for why the creature left him alive. It overpowered him easily. He awoke, stranded in a place beyond strange. Darkness enveloped him like an ocean. He wept, he prayed, he howled; but more than anything else, he regretted. He regretted his inability to protect his girls. He regretted even more that he was incapable of avenging them. The gods, it would seem, were not apathetic to his torment. As a side effect of being granted the power to pay retribution upon those who would destroy the bond of paternal love, a part of the Shadowfell was imprinted upon his soul. No warning was needed. A worthy trade, seemingly not even worth considering dismissing at the time.
The clock winds forward. He was cast out of his village as an aberration, never given a chance to explain himself. Still, there was no true darkness within him. He harbored no ill will toward the others, they were simply ignorant of the details. His inner light belied his outer darkness. He knew he was given a second chance, and it would not be squandered. Never again would a parent know the pain he had endured. At all costs to his body and mind, children would not have to fear the darkness, but at the same time, never would they know it was he who saved them. It was his curse to bear, and he bore it proudly.
Finding others to sympathize with him was not easy, but he finally met with a handful of them. They understood him, if not entirely, than to the point where they realized his goals were amiable, if a bit bizarre for his circumstances.
Traits
Average height and build, gaunt cheeks, sunken eyes and a constant smile adorn his face. Thin wisps of greying hair hang to his scalp. Clearly, he has not aged well. The blueish tint to his skin does nothing to conceal his affliction, and as sure as he is aware of this, he does not let it trouble him. He wears a cowl over his face to prevent early misunderstandings based on his appearance, but he is well versed in convincing others he is no true danger. When he wills it, 3 thin purple orbs of incandescent flame hover just above his hears and forehead, with a thin white veil surrounding them.
Mannerisms and Personality
As grim as he appears, Basat has managed to keep himself in good spirits. All is done with a purpose, and now that his has been realized, his one true goal keeps him motivated. He is aware his looks are a bit frightening, but his warm tone, easy attitude and affluence with words go a long ways toward keeping the lynch mobs at bay. Quick to laugh, tell jokes, and attempt to keep the spirits of his fellows up, to his friends, he is considered an extremely jovial individual. To his enemies, he is feared as the unmaker, the creeping shadow of inevitable defeat.
Moonstair
The portal to the Feywild at Moonstair has long piques Basat's scholarly interests. Is there a link between the Shadowfell and the Feywild? If so, could he find it? What could or would he do with the information if found? Only time would tell.
Of note: I couldn't find a way to get the Shade stuff to work right with my Offline CB, but I am not terribly concerned with that, it's a thing I can wing. For the sake of brevity, I left some of his feats out of the story and only briefly touched upon his Paragon Path, and while I know it is important, it is not something that I feel Basat truly understands. He was a simple man, befallen by tragedy. There is much he does not understand about the how or why he can do what he can, and I leave much (if not all) of that up to the DM if chosen. Portrait will be submitted if selected, as I officially suck at finding good ones.
Arrays work out the same in terms of point costs as to just manually buying the same point distribution, they're just included if people want a quick creation. People tend to put a +4 bonus in their primary stat (after racial bonus) and a +3 in their secondary (possibly +4).
Gods are, as often as mortals, selfish and dishonest. They do things, sometimes terrible thinks for personal gain or security.
Corellon is no exception. He is the patron of the fey, and guards the Feywild in many ways. Tavr Alt is one of those ways. The god placed Tavr near the Feywild portal in Moonstair in order to protect his domain. But this is not what he told his servant.
Corellon instead told Tavr that he was to be a leader and protector of men, a hero to heal, protect, and rally them. A missionary sent by the Feywild to strengthen the bonds between the Fey and the mortals of the village. And that was what Tavr did. He healed the weak, and founded a hospitalter house. He fought with the townspeople to defend against any attacks. He took on quests and missions to aid any in need. He gave sage advice and wise counsel to any that sought it. And in the town he is indeed seen as a hero by many.
But this is not the true purpose of his god. Rather, he is there to be sure that the town remains strong in case of a catastrophe. With a strong warrior leading organizing the town, in the case of war or invasion, the Feywild could avoid being drawn into the conflict, or at least have time to prepare. No, Tavr is not truly there to protect the people, but rather to keep them strong, as a first line of defense, a sacrificial first line, for the Feywild.
And he has played this role brilliantly, though he knows not what his true purpose is. He is a beacon of hope, both in battle and in counsel. He is followed by many, especially in times of conflict. And as he has grown, he has become both closer and more distant from his god. He has taken on aspect or Corellon's being: arcane powers and the ability to tap into the fey. But he has also grown in his love for the material world. He is becoming attached to the land. Though most Devas seek ascension, he seeks closer ties with the world, in direct conflict with his true purpose. He has also taken on something of an anything goes attitude: for the good of the town he will do what he can and what he must, including some things that Corellon may not approve of
Ties to the party
As a resident of Moonstair, Tavr is acquainted with all strong adventuring parties that pass through. He has a great deal of respect from most of them, and has quested with them in the past, ether individually or in a group. He could be the hub of the party coming together, with the other members the spokes. Perhaps he has helped to gather these warriors in defense of the town against the trolls.
Personality
A forceful and inspiring leader, he is not afraid to take charge. Others tend to listen to him, especially the more they get to know him, because his wisdom and experience leads him to have an insight some others may lack. In battle, he is as much of a director as any warlord.
Mechanics
Strong control with a lot of dazing. Decent multitarget damage. Excellent secondary leader with some healing and lots of enabling.
I thought that seemed odd...luckily I never closed that window.
Background:
Aluhaen was born to unmiraculous circumstances in a tiny town on the outskirts of the port city of Valindos. Valindos was predominantly human in population and Aluhaen's mixed heritage was received negatively for most of his early life - he was teased and picked on by other children and as he got older often received rudely when he went into town for busienss, though he never met a merchant that would refuse his money. Rather than letting the rude treatment turn him into a cold and unforgiving person, Aluhaen adopted the opposite approach. He met unkindness with kindness and frowns with smiles. Even in the face of rampant racism, he hoped for a world where racial divides didn't matter - a hope he carries with him to this day.
***
Aluhaen winced as his butt hit the road and his hands stung where they scraped against the rough-hewn stone. One of the other children jeered at him, "Aww, is the widdle baby huwt?" The other children snickered.
He picked himself up quickly and regarded the children thoughtfully. They were human - all of them. It didn't surprise him. As long as he had been coming into Valindos he had been treated this way; in many ways he was used to it, though that didn't stop it from hurting. The racism inherent in the town was obvious, if veiled. Mother did the shopping whenever possible - father often drew more attention to himself than he would care to. Through no fault of his own of course; the ears were hard to hide. Not to mention that he wouldn't want to. In spite of all the mockery that it brought him, his parents had always encouraged him to be proud of who he was. And he was. Most days.
He smiled at them, more with his eyes than his mouth, and turned to walk away - right into the body of a larger and much thicker child. Some days were easier than others. The shove that came was far more forceful than the earlier one and caught Aluhaen off-guard. His legs got twisted up in themselves and his arms careened wildly as he fought to maintain his balance to no avail. He hit the ground hard and his backpack slipped off his shoulders, tossing its contents into the air. A resounding crack split the ruckus caused by the children.
Though he had fought the tears back when he hit the ground, the sight that awaited his eyes when he looked up brought tears to them swiftly. There, amidst the rest of his scattered belongings, were the broken pieces of his harp. It was a small thing, made for a child, but lacked no elegance for that fact. It was smoothly polished elder wood and engraved with intricate patterns and spirals that rain the full length of the instrument with tiny gold filigree worked into the etchings. The strings, once tightly strung and silvery - almost as majestic as the wood itself - now spilled onto the ground haphazardly. Aluhaen began to sob quietly.
"Oh look Clive - we've pushed the half-breed too far! Gone and broken his toy, now he's gonna run and cry to his mommy!"
Aluhaen said nothing but walked over and scooped up the pieces of his harp.
"Did we say you could pick that up yet?" another shove came from behind and forced Aluhaen to drop the pieces, spilling the fragments back onto the ground though he kept his footing this time.
Something inside the half-elf snapped. He spun on his foot and glared into the eyes of the large child, inclining his head to do so. Rage poured from his eyes.
"Leave me alone," Aluhaen spoke softly.
The bully laughed loudly and poked him in the stomach, "What was that mutt? I couldn't hear you!"
The fury that had been smoldering within Aluhaen burst at that point, "I said LEAVE!!!"
The word that erupted from the half-elf's mouth was tinged with more than just his fury. The sheer force of his shout sent the bully flying backwards from the street and smashing into some barrels that sat outside of a nearby inn. The barrels erupted in an explosion of deep, red liquid as the wine spilled onto the streets, soaking into the sun-parched stone. The children, and indeed everyone in the surrounding area, were cradling their heads between their hands, each palm clasped tightly over their ears. Some of the children standing closest to the confrontation had tiny rivulets of blood running down their cheeks from where their eardrums had ruptured.
The bully pulled himself out of the wreckage of barrels and stumbled forward before dropping to his knees in the middle of the street, panting heavily and swaying lightly from side to side. The other children dropped their hands to their sides and looked around warily. Two of the bully's friends rushed over to him and helped pick him up. They ran from the street without saying another word to the "half-breed."
"Alu!" He heard his mother scream from down the street and she ran swiftly to his side, dodging the gawkers in the marketplace.
"What happened?" Even as she asked him, she knelt and scooped up the mangled pieces of his harp before turning to him, eyes askance.
"I just wanted them to leave me alone..." he replied, his voice still tinged with the faintest bit of arcane power.
"Oh baby," she dropped the groceries she had purchased to the ground and took him into her arms, clutching him against her breast and the harp pieces in her hands, she turned and carried him back to their cabin sitting just outside the city walls. His father brought him into town the next day and he was promptly enrolled in the Academy of Arts and The Art where he learned to harness and channel his musical gifts into more manageable and predictable forms.
***
Aluhaen sat by himself, lazily reclining in one of the Harlequins' plush chairs. They had whisked him back to their camp as soon as the performance for the evening was concluded. They had been performing the play, Silver Under the Moon, Red Under the Sun, and Aluhaen had been invited to give a guest performance during the intermission. To think that he was not yet twenty years old and he was already being invited to guest star with the famed Harlequins! Perhaps he did have a bright future ahead of him. Of course, it didn't hurt that he understood the true nature of magic in addition to its more mundane forms.
The performance went flawlessly. It was not until after the performance was over that Aluhaen learned the true nature of the night's events. While he had played in the great hall and his magical songs had deadened the senses of the guards and the nobles in attendance, members of the visiting acting troupe had stolen through the castle, infiltrated the viceroy's chambers and gathered information on an underground slaving ring that the viceroy had been overseeing. While the people in attendance had sat, mesmerized as Aluhaen plucked the strings of his harp and sang an ancient Eladrin lament,a number of the Harlequins had infiltrated the castle's sub-levels, killed the slavers and freed the slaves held captive. True to Harlequin fashion, the castle guard never discovered who was responsible for freeing the slaves.
Following his performance, and amidst the rioting that was taking place in the streets, the Harlequins had whisked Aluhaen back to their camp outside of town and explained the events of the evening to him. Part of a larger company, the troupe explained that their previous bard had met with an ill-fated end while they had many among them who could sing and tell stories, none of them possessed the gift of magical music as Aluhaen did. They offered him a position with the group - travelling and performing, righting wrongs that they encountered and occasionally hiring themselves out to perform special services for those who had need of their unique skill sets. After conferring briefly with his parents, Aluhaen accepted the offer and left home with the troupe.
Mannerisms and demeanor:
Aluhaen is a soft-spoken and kind hearted individual. He makes no judgments based on first impressions or appearances and is always willing to give someone a second chance. In the presence of others he is jovial in spirit and always has something to say to cheer someone else up. His outlook is largely positive and he is the eternal optimist when adventuring. When given time to reflect by himself however, he can be withdrawn and quiet - almost as if a deep sadness is welling up from within him, though he is loathe to show it to anyone else, lest they take his own sorrow as a burden unto themselves.
Appearance:
Aluhaen is 5'10 and of average build, neither stocky nor skinny, but rather lithe, with lean muscles. He carries himself with a noble, but kind, air that dispels any sense of pretension about him. He has deep auburn hair that he wears short and piercing green eyes. A faint purple tattoo curls around his right eye, beginning above his eye brow and curving around his eye, then downwards, ending just below his cheekbone. It is an ancient script, somewhere between Elvish and some combination of old Dwarven runes, but it is of no language that anyone alive today can still decipher.
Ties to the party:
In his adventures with the Harlequins, Aluhaen came into contact with the party. Though he maintains his Harlequin membership, he felt a need to depart from his troupe for some time, seeking personal growth outside the confines of the company. To that end, he joined with the party and has been travelling with them since.
Sheet:
Couldn't figure out how to make Orokos work so I did my sheet in Mythweavers - I'm happy to convert it to Orokos if someone can tell me how.
You seem to have double posted. An excess post can be deleted by way of the Edit function.
As for Orokos, it works by way of sending a .dnd4e file from the Character Builder to the site which is then translated to an online character sheet. If you don't have the Character Builder, your Orokos options are limited.
AegisFear My DanceOvershot Toronto, Landed in OttawaRegistered Userregular
edited May 2011
Double post looks like it was last night's missing post issue, noted above.
Anyway, I'm doing some housecleaning related to the IC portions of the game so applications are technically closed though won't be officially done until I get around to posting who gets in or not.
No your fleshy human tongue cannon pronounce his name.
Kreen are not common in this world, and are generally fairly isolationist. Tckkkcttckt had no interest in sticking with his tribe, however, because there was so much to learn and do in the world. He is exceptionally strong and quick, and that lead him down the path of a fighter.
His first job after leaving his tribe was that of an arena warrior. He was paid to do battle against all sorts of men and beasts. There, he honed his weapon skills, and found that he was most talented with spears. He developed a distinctive style to please the audience: flashy and powerful. It did not take him long to grow bored, however, with the arena. Fighting the same type of battles in the same place stunted his learning.
His next step was to sign on with a mercenary band. He would travel with them doing battle for the highest bidder. Here he learned toughness and how to fight with allies and against many foes. But the thought of fighting for the profit of another did not please him, so Tckkkcttckt didn't stick around long.
Soon he set off on his own, selling his spear to those in need of it. He took gold of course, but always valued knowledge more. On one occasion he spent several months helping to defend a mountain monastery from goblin attacks. He spent that time learning the talents of monks: how to move unseen and how to channel inner power for the purpose of battle. This has proven invaluable since.
Recently, he signed on with a band of rebels along the coast. They taught him hit and run tactics, and the value of precision in attacks. Combined with his monastic training, and his arena experience, Tckkkcttckt would be a valuable ally in any battle.
Party ties
Tckkkcttckt received a letter from an old mercenary buddy telling of the rise of the trolls. What interests him most is the portal to the feywild nearby perhaps he can learn new tactics and skills from the fey.
Personality
He thinks he's better than most fleshy people. His kreen heritage and extensive training leaves him stronger and faster than most. He likes to show off and be flashy. Still, he won't stab your back, and as long as you have something to teach him, he will be your friend.
Mechanics
Defends by killing. Secondary striker. Huge weapon damage and lots of multi attacks allow him to spread his mark. Crits on 19-20 with a spear, targets refex with basic attacks. Lots of mobility powers to allow him to move around the battlefield unhindered.
Edit: whoops, was typing while you posted that apps are closed.
ITEMS
Heavy Shield, Summoned Gith Plate Armor +3, Symbol of Dire Fate +2, Melegaunt's Darkblade Longsword +3, Deep-Pocket Cloak +2, Pelor's Sun Blessing (level 3), Flame Bracers (heroic tier), Belt of Vigor (heroic tier), Bedroll, Climber's Kit, Crowbar, Flask (empty) (5), Oil (1 pint) (5), Silk Rope (50 ft.), Sunrod (2), Woundpatch (heroic tier) (5)
====== Copy to Clipboard and Press the Import Button on the Summary Tab ======
History/background (short version):
Rhogar is a driven and determined Paladin of Bahamut. Born to a dispossessed family formerly of some wealth in the Empire of Nerath he and his mother ended up in the villages surrounding Fallcrest essentially as refugees thought Rhogar never fully understood what it was they were fleeing, or what happened to his father. However, with a young child in tow and no money left, Rhogar's mother decided to try and disappear in one of the nameless suburbs of Fallcrest where the pair were able to eke out a living on the back of his mother's skills as an artificer, but they never became comfortable for various reasons. Rhogar himself became a priest first through a scholarship in Fallcrest then by meeting the high priest of Pelor there, who gave him a reference to a similarly ranked cleric of Bahamut in Harkenwold. Rhogar proved an able student of religion and history and also picked up enough skill with a blade on his travels that the cleric of Bahamut started Rhogar on the path to membership of her order of Paladins almost as soon as he had been ordained. Rhogar proved to be an able student and soon learned the way of watching and anticipating the reactions of others both in and out of combat and soon joined the Order of the Dragon's Wing, a group dedicated to bringing the glory of Bahamut to the dispersed peoples of the world in the form of wandering ministry to the scattered villages and hamlets that arose in the wake of the fall of Nerath. Rhogar, having been on the move for most of his life already, took no issue with the edict to spend no longer in any one place than necessary to bring the word of Bahamut to it and immediately set out back to Fallcrest to formally reopen the shrine of Bahamut at the House of the Sun and spread the word from there out into the towns and village north of the and west of the old city. And so began Rhogar's career as an adventurer. In the intervening years, he has seen (and slain) many monstrous creatures, including some of his own kin turned to the worship of Tiamat. It was in fact in the aftermath of one of these battles that the seed of his Plan was first planted.
Rhogar had always wanted to meet Bahamut in person and had read many accounts of faithful paladins achieving such a goal but up to then, it had merely been an idle ambition. Seeing the corruption of his kinsmen by the worship of Tiamat, his ambition became his overriding goal and began to grow even beyond that, to the ultimate defeat and destruction of Tiamat. To this end, he sought out the history of his own people and that of the mortal dragons that inhabited the world, hoping to find some way to defeat a god. Inevitably, of course, he became aware of the near-legendary empire of Arkhosia and the legendary death of Io and the birth of the two dragon-gods that exist to this day and once again his Plan grew in scope and ambition; what was needed was nothing less than the resurrection of Io himself!
Personality:
Rhogar is a fanatic, with a fanatic's charm and force of personality. Most people never find out what, exactly, it is that he's fanatical about and most assume it's his devotion to Bahamut and for most situations that's close enough to his true purpose. If pressed, he will say he wants to actually meet Bahamut in person and that is usually big enough of an ambition to sate the most curious of inquisitors.
Capable of both icy calm and towering rages, anyone who survives the first quickly comes to prefer the second, being both less dangerous and easier to detect by comparison with his normal demeanour of cold patience and restraint. He knows what he wants, he thinks he knows how to get it, and nothing, not the will of the gods, nor his task being merely impossible, will stop him.
You seem to have double posted. An excess post can be deleted by way of the Edit function.
As for Orokos, it works by way of sending a .dnd4e file from the Character Builder to the site which is then translated to an online character sheet. If you don't have the Character Builder, your Orokos options are limited.
Is the Character Builder a DDI thing? If so, that's why I don't have it.
Also, is it incredibly useful? If it makes creation substantially easier I might get a subscription - because I spent about 2 hours trekking through Adventurer's Vault 1 & 2 trying to track down magic items that I thought might be useful
You seem to have double posted. An excess post can be deleted by way of the Edit function.
As for Orokos, it works by way of sending a .dnd4e file from the Character Builder to the site which is then translated to an online character sheet. If you don't have the Character Builder, your Orokos options are limited.
Is the Character Builder a DDI thing? If so, that's why I don't have it.
Also, is it incredibly useful? If it makes creation substantially easier I might get a subscription - because I spent about 2 hours trekking through Adventurer's Vault 1 & 2 trying to track down magic items that I thought might be useful
Character Builder is nice to have, especially if you don't want to spend a ton of money on all the different books. It aggregates every bit of information out there. So Feats, Powers, Magic Items, etc come from all the different sources. Not just splatbooks, but also Dragon Magazines. So there's alot of info that you wouldn't normally have access to, unless you're a crazy collector (like me!)
Even if you do have all the books, you might not think to look at the Skill Feats from PHB3 for your character, or something like that.
Even if you only grab it for 1 month, it's still a good investment to sign up for DDI and take a look. The only problem is you don't have access to the Offline Builder anymore (at least I don't think you do), so the Orokos import doesn't always work correctly.
You seem to have double posted. An excess post can be deleted by way of the Edit function.
As for Orokos, it works by way of sending a .dnd4e file from the Character Builder to the site which is then translated to an online character sheet. If you don't have the Character Builder, your Orokos options are limited.
Is the Character Builder a DDI thing? If so, that's why I don't have it.
Also, is it incredibly useful? If it makes creation substantially easier I might get a subscription - because I spent about 2 hours trekking through Adventurer's Vault 1 & 2 trying to track down magic items that I thought might be useful
The current Character Builder is quite amazingly terrible. The old Legacy Character Builder, which was a program installed on your computer, was fantastic.
Seriously, I was lucky to have a sub before they switched to the online builder. So while I don't subscribe anymore, it's basically up to date right up to just before Dark Sun. Sadly, it's missing themes, which is why I wasn't even quite aware of those.
MaxFrost on
0
Options
Mr_Rose83 Blue Ridge Protects the HolyRegistered Userregular
Seriously, I was lucky to have a sub before they switched to the online builder. So while I don't subscribe anymore, it's basically up to date right up to just before Dark Sun. Sadly, it's missing themes, which is why I wasn't even quite aware of those.
Posts
Also: I feel dumb because I forgot Implement Focus exists and going to lengths to get Dark Fury was a waste of time arrrrgggghhh
White FC: 0819 3350 1787
Thanks, I'll find another pic.
Nintendo Network ID: AzraelRose
DropBox invite link - get 500MB extra free.
Currently DMing: None
Characters
[5e] Dural Melairkyn - AC 18 | HP 40 | Melee +5/1d8+3 | Spell +4/DC 12
Fiction:
“A little late for that now, dear, we’re almost there. We just have to make it out into the clearing,” the man replies.
The storm shows no sign of letting up; the couple splash through the grove of trees, desperate to find higher, drier ground. Without warning, five figures burst from the edge of the clearing in front of the couple, obvious from their garb to be bandits searching for easy prey.
The leader, a hobgoblin, marches forward and backhands the man with a casual swing of his mace. The man crumples to the ground without a sound. The woman, terrified, shouts out "Benrick! Leave us alone!"
The humans behind the hobgoblin begin chuckling. In the glare of the sunrods, the corner of the leader's mouth turns upward in a smirk. He raises his mace as the woman cries out.
A crossbow bolt hisses out of the darkness and slices through the hobgoblin’s arm, pinning it to a nearby tree.
“There’s someone else out here, you idiots! Get him!”
As his companions wheel about frantically, trying to find the unknown assailant, four more bolts spring forth and burst into a swarm of insects. The bandits quickly become overwhelmed by the bugs and flee into the woods.
The leader wrenches the bolt out of the tree and his arm and looks around for the mysterious figure. Out of the darkness, a male drow springs forth, wearing hunting leathers and leveling a vicious-looking crossbow at the hobgoblin.
“Now is the time where you should run. I won’t ask twice.”
The hobgoblin swallows hard, glances at his fleeing companions and his bleeding arm, and immediately begins sprinting away from
The drow holsters the crossbow and bends down to examine the fallen human. “He’ll be fine, but he’ll have a bad headache when he awakens. Stick to the main roads; the dark is no place for you.” Without waiting for a response, the drow stands up and melts back into the woods as though he were never there at all.
Background:
Character Notes & Portrait
Sheet is currently on Myth-Weavers until I can get the offline builder up and running. I'll update it to Orokos once I have the offline builder updated with everything. Just wanted to get the vitals down.
I put all Braylon's powers online outside of the sheet though, you can access them here.
Portrait:
Appearance
Mannerisms
Personality
Despite his anger management issues, Braylon is extremely protective of those around him. If his trust has been earned, he will fight to the death to keep you from harm. On the battlefield, if he sees one of his compatriots attacked and injured, he will come to their aid as quickly as possible, regardless of the number of foes that stand in his way.
Background
Braylon recovered from his injuries at an alarming rate, but the attack had left him physically scared, emotionally broken, and cursed with lycanthropy. He fled his home for fear that he would attack his family, and spent several years wandering aimlessly. Each full moon he would transform and rampage through the wilderness. The years passed, and Braylon became more of an animal than a human. He wandered the wilds without purpose, savagely attacking any animal he came across. Then he met a blind monk named Sanphras. Braylon attacked the monk on sight, but the old man easily subdued him, even without his sight. Sanphras took Braylon in and helped him regain his humanity. He also was able to concoct a potion that suppressed Braylon's lycanthropy so that he would no longer change form due to the full moon, although the cure was not able to take away the rage that Braylon felt. Braylon stayed with the monk for a long time, learning to harness his emotions and channel them into positive ends. Over time he was even able to learn to use his emotion to utilize his curse, changing his form to mimic the way in which he is feeling. The rage was still with him, but now he had a way of controlling it and unleashing it.
Knowing that he needed to use his curse to give back to the world, Braylon left the monk and returned to civilization.
Party Motivation
Currently DMing: None
Characters
[5e] Dural Melairkyn - AC 18 | HP 40 | Melee +5/1d8+3 | Spell +4/DC 12
Will be a bard - just don't have any time to put him together right now. Been stalking these boards all day waiting for a game to go up and it looks like I'm still late to the party!
Haven't done any 4e, but am familiar with 2, 3 and 3.5e - is that ok? If not, I understand - no one likes to train the newbie.
By same character I obviously mean race/background/profession/favorite foods etc.
4th Edition is not very hard to pick up on account of classes functioning off of a core template and the rules in general being extremely consistent.
White FC: 0819 3350 1787
Ehhhhh, I don't know if I'm overly thrilled with the idea of just copy-pasting wholesale the more important aspects of character development. Unless you're trying to do something like represent both of a Kalashtar's souls as different, distinct entities or sides of the singular coin; or a fractured shardmind who has each piece thinking they're a separate...person-crystal-thing. But even then they'd be represented by entirely different personalities and shared experiences.
Currently DMing: None
Characters
[5e] Dural Melairkyn - AC 18 | HP 40 | Melee +5/1d8+3 | Spell +4/DC 12
I've got the story all thought up, just need to get it on "paper" and copypasta it in hurr.
Background: A short story on Ferris attaining his blood moon stalker paragon path and taking a short trip to the feywild.
Normally Ferris isn’t one to pity himself. He, more than anyone, understands how the mind descends into panic. But when you’re tied to a stake in an orc camp whose leader you tried to assassinate, and beaten within an inch of your life, you kind of start losing it. Nobody even knew he was here. Nobody was going to save Ferris. He dragged his tongue along the top row of his teeth only to find many gaps and shards. His keen senses were overwhelmed with the metallic taste and smell of his own blood.
It was a full moon out tonight. It rose above the black treeline ahead of him like a beautiful lantern. He could see the orcs leisurely approaching, talking amongst each other, maybe 5 of them. It’s hard to remember. So tired. He couldn’t understand them, but reading their body language wasn’t difficult. The one with the club brought it under his chin and propped it up to look at them as they asked him something. Ferris just smiled his toothy bloody grin.
“Heh… Orcs huh?.. Shit.. Is that how it’s gonna end?”
A smack across his face with the jagged wood made his vision flash white and numbed his face. He felt something break, but he could still see. “Don’t all come at once now.” He tried to taunt them, but it came out as inaudible mumbles through his broken jaw. Dizzy. Another hit made it seem like he was falling.
When he got up, the first thing he clearly saw was the giant bright moon in the sky. It had turned blood red.. Wait.. He was standing? Looking around, he didn’t see the stake he was bound to before. The clearing seemed familiar, but there were no orcs, no stake, no nothing. But he could still hear them as if they were right next to him. He looked at his hands.. felt his face.. Seemed healthy. The woods seemed to close in around him, a gust of warm air rustled the grass. The crickets grew louder. The air thicker.
Movement caught the corner of his eye and he swung around, startled and ready to defend himself. Atop a tall hill stood the silhouette of what appeared to be a huge wolf. And above him now hovered the blood moon. They stood there for a moment, staring at each other. Ferris could only see the wolf’s piercing glowing eyes, motionless.
“Your time will soon run out.” Said the wolf. Perhaps not so much said it, as made Ferris think it. “Remember that you are beastial at heart. The feywild is watching.” The primal spirit pulled his ears back and gnashed his jaws. Images of claws. Teeth. Bloodshot eyes. Steam rising from the carcass of a fresh kill in the snow. The heavy metal clink of a mad dog trying to break free of his chain leash.
As suddenly as Ferris entered, he had slipped out of the feywild and back into the orc camp. They were all standing around the stake totally confused, loose ropes resting in the grass. This was his chance! He didn’t think. Not rationally, anyway. The transformation was seamless as he dove into the orcs from behind, making one stumble backwards into the stake and pinning him there, tearing his throat out before the others could act. An orc raised his club, only to receive a series of sharp spines shooting up and digging into the underside of his arm and his lower face. He fell back on his ass and whined, trying to pull them out one by one. The remaining orcs turned and tried to flee, but one of them got caught by Ferris’ lunging out, catching his leg. The orc fell on his face and tried to grab fistfuls of grass to stop being pulled in, screaming for his friends to help him. And the blood moon hung overhead.
Ferris did end up getting that bounty. Not only did he bring the head of the orc leader, he brought four more, which weren’t exactly asked for.. but it encouraged the captain to give him a little extra. Unclear whether it was as a reward for doing more than was expected of him, or out of fear of displeasing the druid. Ferris’ mouth was still caked in blood as he smiled a courteous smile and nodded, packing the pouch of gold and heading out the door.
Personality:
Appearance:
Pictures:
History:
Basat, the Loveless
History
The clock winds forward. Lily and Daisy are 8. A blood curdling scream comes from the girls' room, and Basat is out of the study in a heartbeat, only to see a silhouette of a large, bloated being stepping into some sort of portal. There was no time to think, only to act. Basat jumped through the portal in pursuit.
There is no rationale for why the creature left him alive. It overpowered him easily. He awoke, stranded in a place beyond strange. Darkness enveloped him like an ocean. He wept, he prayed, he howled; but more than anything else, he regretted. He regretted his inability to protect his girls. He regretted even more that he was incapable of avenging them. The gods, it would seem, were not apathetic to his torment. As a side effect of being granted the power to pay retribution upon those who would destroy the bond of paternal love, a part of the Shadowfell was imprinted upon his soul. No warning was needed. A worthy trade, seemingly not even worth considering dismissing at the time.
The clock winds forward. He was cast out of his village as an aberration, never given a chance to explain himself. Still, there was no true darkness within him. He harbored no ill will toward the others, they were simply ignorant of the details. His inner light belied his outer darkness. He knew he was given a second chance, and it would not be squandered. Never again would a parent know the pain he had endured. At all costs to his body and mind, children would not have to fear the darkness, but at the same time, never would they know it was he who saved them. It was his curse to bear, and he bore it proudly.
Finding others to sympathize with him was not easy, but he finally met with a handful of them. They understood him, if not entirely, than to the point where they realized his goals were amiable, if a bit bizarre for his circumstances.
Traits
Mannerisms and Personality
Moonstair
Of note: I couldn't find a way to get the Shade stuff to work right with my Offline CB, but I am not terribly concerned with that, it's a thing I can wing. For the sake of brevity, I left some of his feats out of the story and only briefly touched upon his Paragon Path, and while I know it is important, it is not something that I feel Basat truly understands. He was a simple man, befallen by tragedy. There is much he does not understand about the how or why he can do what he can, and I leave much (if not all) of that up to the DM if chosen. Portrait will be submitted if selected, as I officially suck at finding good ones.
From the Heroes of Shadow Book, though Shades are considered a sub-par race optimally.
Arrays work out the same in terms of point costs as to just manually buying the same point distribution, they're just included if people want a quick creation. People tend to put a +4 bonus in their primary stat (after racial bonus) and a +3 in their secondary (possibly +4).
Currently DMing: None
Characters
[5e] Dural Melairkyn - AC 18 | HP 40 | Melee +5/1d8+3 | Spell +4/DC 12
White FC: 0819 3350 1787
My Steam
Background
Corellon is no exception. He is the patron of the fey, and guards the Feywild in many ways. Tavr Alt is one of those ways. The god placed Tavr near the Feywild portal in Moonstair in order to protect his domain. But this is not what he told his servant.
Corellon instead told Tavr that he was to be a leader and protector of men, a hero to heal, protect, and rally them. A missionary sent by the Feywild to strengthen the bonds between the Fey and the mortals of the village. And that was what Tavr did. He healed the weak, and founded a hospitalter house. He fought with the townspeople to defend against any attacks. He took on quests and missions to aid any in need. He gave sage advice and wise counsel to any that sought it. And in the town he is indeed seen as a hero by many.
But this is not the true purpose of his god. Rather, he is there to be sure that the town remains strong in case of a catastrophe. With a strong warrior leading organizing the town, in the case of war or invasion, the Feywild could avoid being drawn into the conflict, or at least have time to prepare. No, Tavr is not truly there to protect the people, but rather to keep them strong, as a first line of defense, a sacrificial first line, for the Feywild.
And he has played this role brilliantly, though he knows not what his true purpose is. He is a beacon of hope, both in battle and in counsel. He is followed by many, especially in times of conflict. And as he has grown, he has become both closer and more distant from his god. He has taken on aspect or Corellon's being: arcane powers and the ability to tap into the fey. But he has also grown in his love for the material world. He is becoming attached to the land. Though most Devas seek ascension, he seeks closer ties with the world, in direct conflict with his true purpose. He has also taken on something of an anything goes attitude: for the good of the town he will do what he can and what he must, including some things that Corellon may not approve of
Ties to the party
Mechanics
Hope to be playing with you fine folks soon!
That's...not how the posting works. Did you accidentally report your own post to the mods instead of quoting/editing/hitting new post?
Currently DMing: None
Characters
[5e] Dural Melairkyn - AC 18 | HP 40 | Melee +5/1d8+3 | Spell +4/DC 12
Background:
***
Aluhaen winced as his butt hit the road and his hands stung where they scraped against the rough-hewn stone. One of the other children jeered at him, "Aww, is the widdle baby huwt?" The other children snickered.
He picked himself up quickly and regarded the children thoughtfully. They were human - all of them. It didn't surprise him. As long as he had been coming into Valindos he had been treated this way; in many ways he was used to it, though that didn't stop it from hurting. The racism inherent in the town was obvious, if veiled. Mother did the shopping whenever possible - father often drew more attention to himself than he would care to. Through no fault of his own of course; the ears were hard to hide. Not to mention that he wouldn't want to. In spite of all the mockery that it brought him, his parents had always encouraged him to be proud of who he was. And he was. Most days.
He smiled at them, more with his eyes than his mouth, and turned to walk away - right into the body of a larger and much thicker child. Some days were easier than others. The shove that came was far more forceful than the earlier one and caught Aluhaen off-guard. His legs got twisted up in themselves and his arms careened wildly as he fought to maintain his balance to no avail. He hit the ground hard and his backpack slipped off his shoulders, tossing its contents into the air. A resounding crack split the ruckus caused by the children.
Though he had fought the tears back when he hit the ground, the sight that awaited his eyes when he looked up brought tears to them swiftly. There, amidst the rest of his scattered belongings, were the broken pieces of his harp. It was a small thing, made for a child, but lacked no elegance for that fact. It was smoothly polished elder wood and engraved with intricate patterns and spirals that rain the full length of the instrument with tiny gold filigree worked into the etchings. The strings, once tightly strung and silvery - almost as majestic as the wood itself - now spilled onto the ground haphazardly. Aluhaen began to sob quietly.
"Oh look Clive - we've pushed the half-breed too far! Gone and broken his toy, now he's gonna run and cry to his mommy!"
Aluhaen said nothing but walked over and scooped up the pieces of his harp.
"Did we say you could pick that up yet?" another shove came from behind and forced Aluhaen to drop the pieces, spilling the fragments back onto the ground though he kept his footing this time.
Something inside the half-elf snapped. He spun on his foot and glared into the eyes of the large child, inclining his head to do so. Rage poured from his eyes.
"Leave me alone," Aluhaen spoke softly.
The bully laughed loudly and poked him in the stomach, "What was that mutt? I couldn't hear you!"
The fury that had been smoldering within Aluhaen burst at that point, "I said LEAVE!!!"
The word that erupted from the half-elf's mouth was tinged with more than just his fury. The sheer force of his shout sent the bully flying backwards from the street and smashing into some barrels that sat outside of a nearby inn. The barrels erupted in an explosion of deep, red liquid as the wine spilled onto the streets, soaking into the sun-parched stone. The children, and indeed everyone in the surrounding area, were cradling their heads between their hands, each palm clasped tightly over their ears. Some of the children standing closest to the confrontation had tiny rivulets of blood running down their cheeks from where their eardrums had ruptured.
The bully pulled himself out of the wreckage of barrels and stumbled forward before dropping to his knees in the middle of the street, panting heavily and swaying lightly from side to side. The other children dropped their hands to their sides and looked around warily. Two of the bully's friends rushed over to him and helped pick him up. They ran from the street without saying another word to the "half-breed."
"Alu!" He heard his mother scream from down the street and she ran swiftly to his side, dodging the gawkers in the marketplace.
"What happened?" Even as she asked him, she knelt and scooped up the mangled pieces of his harp before turning to him, eyes askance.
"I just wanted them to leave me alone..." he replied, his voice still tinged with the faintest bit of arcane power.
"Oh baby," she dropped the groceries she had purchased to the ground and took him into her arms, clutching him against her breast and the harp pieces in her hands, she turned and carried him back to their cabin sitting just outside the city walls. His father brought him into town the next day and he was promptly enrolled in the Academy of Arts and The Art where he learned to harness and channel his musical gifts into more manageable and predictable forms.
***
Aluhaen sat by himself, lazily reclining in one of the Harlequins' plush chairs. They had whisked him back to their camp as soon as the performance for the evening was concluded. They had been performing the play, Silver Under the Moon, Red Under the Sun, and Aluhaen had been invited to give a guest performance during the intermission. To think that he was not yet twenty years old and he was already being invited to guest star with the famed Harlequins! Perhaps he did have a bright future ahead of him. Of course, it didn't hurt that he understood the true nature of magic in addition to its more mundane forms.
The performance went flawlessly. It was not until after the performance was over that Aluhaen learned the true nature of the night's events. While he had played in the great hall and his magical songs had deadened the senses of the guards and the nobles in attendance, members of the visiting acting troupe had stolen through the castle, infiltrated the viceroy's chambers and gathered information on an underground slaving ring that the viceroy had been overseeing. While the people in attendance had sat, mesmerized as Aluhaen plucked the strings of his harp and sang an ancient Eladrin lament,a number of the Harlequins had infiltrated the castle's sub-levels, killed the slavers and freed the slaves held captive. True to Harlequin fashion, the castle guard never discovered who was responsible for freeing the slaves.
Following his performance, and amidst the rioting that was taking place in the streets, the Harlequins had whisked Aluhaen back to their camp outside of town and explained the events of the evening to him. Part of a larger company, the troupe explained that their previous bard had met with an ill-fated end while they had many among them who could sing and tell stories, none of them possessed the gift of magical music as Aluhaen did. They offered him a position with the group - travelling and performing, righting wrongs that they encountered and occasionally hiring themselves out to perform special services for those who had need of their unique skill sets. After conferring briefly with his parents, Aluhaen accepted the offer and left home with the troupe.
Mannerisms and demeanor:
Appearance:
Ties to the party:
Sheet:
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=302151
As for Orokos, it works by way of sending a .dnd4e file from the Character Builder to the site which is then translated to an online character sheet. If you don't have the Character Builder, your Orokos options are limited.
White FC: 0819 3350 1787
Anyway, I'm doing some housecleaning related to the IC portions of the game so applications are technically closed though won't be officially done until I get around to posting who gets in or not.
Currently DMing: None
Characters
[5e] Dural Melairkyn - AC 18 | HP 40 | Melee +5/1d8+3 | Spell +4/DC 12
History
Kreen are not common in this world, and are generally fairly isolationist. Tckkkcttckt had no interest in sticking with his tribe, however, because there was so much to learn and do in the world. He is exceptionally strong and quick, and that lead him down the path of a fighter.
His first job after leaving his tribe was that of an arena warrior. He was paid to do battle against all sorts of men and beasts. There, he honed his weapon skills, and found that he was most talented with spears. He developed a distinctive style to please the audience: flashy and powerful. It did not take him long to grow bored, however, with the arena. Fighting the same type of battles in the same place stunted his learning.
His next step was to sign on with a mercenary band. He would travel with them doing battle for the highest bidder. Here he learned toughness and how to fight with allies and against many foes. But the thought of fighting for the profit of another did not please him, so Tckkkcttckt didn't stick around long.
Soon he set off on his own, selling his spear to those in need of it. He took gold of course, but always valued knowledge more. On one occasion he spent several months helping to defend a mountain monastery from goblin attacks. He spent that time learning the talents of monks: how to move unseen and how to channel inner power for the purpose of battle. This has proven invaluable since.
Recently, he signed on with a band of rebels along the coast. They taught him hit and run tactics, and the value of precision in attacks. Combined with his monastic training, and his arena experience, Tckkkcttckt would be a valuable ally in any battle.
Edit: whoops, was typing while you posted that apps are closed.
Currently DMing: None
Characters
[5e] Dural Melairkyn - AC 18 | HP 40 | Melee +5/1d8+3 | Spell +4/DC 12
Rhogar, Scion of Arkhosia
Appearance:
Token Portrait:
Statblock/summary:
Rhogar, level 11
Dragonborn, Paladin, Scion of Arkhosia
Dragonborn Racial Power: Dragon Breath
Dragon Breath Key Ability: Dragon Breath Constitution
Dragon Breath Damage Type: Dragon Breath Cold
Background: Dragonborn - Brush with the Past, Divinely Inspired, Champion of Bahamut, Resurrectionist, Scholarship Student, Society - Poor (+2 to History)
FINAL ABILITY SCORES
Str 14, Con 18, Dex 9, Int 11, Wis 16, Cha 21.
STARTING ABILITY SCORES
Str 13, Con 14, Dex 8, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 16.
AC: 30 Fort: 22 Reflex: 20 Will: 23
HP: 93 Surges: 14 Surge Value: 28
TRAINED SKILLS
Religion +12, History +14, Heal +13, Insight +15
UNTRAINED SKILLS
Acrobatics, Arcana +5, Bluff +10, Diplomacy +10, Dungeoneering +8, Endurance +5, Intimidate +12, Nature +8, Perception +8, Stealth, Streetwise +10, Thievery, Athletics +3
FEATS
Level 1: Bolstering Breath
Level 2: Draconic Challenge
Level 4: Enlarged Dragon Breath
Level 6: Battlewise
Level 8: Radiant Breath
Level 10: Lend Health
Feat User Choice: Holy Symbol Expertise
Level 11: Empowered Dragon Breath
POWERS
Channel Divinity: Divine Mettle
Lay on Hands: Lay on Hands
Ordained Priest Feature: Smiting Symbol
Paladin at-will 1: Virtuous Strike
Paladin at-will 1: Ardent Strike
Paladin encounter 1: Valorous Smite
Paladin daily 1: Frost of Letherna
Paladin utility 2: Virtue
Paladin encounter 3: Avenging Smite
Paladin daily 5: Sign of Vulnerability
Paladin utility 6: Aspect of Ferocity
Paladin encounter 7: Blade of Light
Paladin daily 9: Reaper's Harvest
Paladin utility 10: Winter's Arrival
ITEMS
Heavy Shield, Summoned Gith Plate Armor +3, Symbol of Dire Fate +2, Melegaunt's Darkblade Longsword +3, Deep-Pocket Cloak +2, Pelor's Sun Blessing (level 3), Flame Bracers (heroic tier), Belt of Vigor (heroic tier), Bedroll, Climber's Kit, Crowbar, Flask (empty) (5), Oil (1 pint) (5), Silk Rope (50 ft.), Sunrod (2), Woundpatch (heroic tier) (5)
====== Copy to Clipboard and Press the Import Button on the Summary Tab ======
History/background (short version):
Rhogar had always wanted to meet Bahamut in person and had read many accounts of faithful paladins achieving such a goal but up to then, it had merely been an idle ambition. Seeing the corruption of his kinsmen by the worship of Tiamat, his ambition became his overriding goal and began to grow even beyond that, to the ultimate defeat and destruction of Tiamat. To this end, he sought out the history of his own people and that of the mortal dragons that inhabited the world, hoping to find some way to defeat a god. Inevitably, of course, he became aware of the near-legendary empire of Arkhosia and the legendary death of Io and the birth of the two dragon-gods that exist to this day and once again his Plan grew in scope and ambition; what was needed was nothing less than the resurrection of Io himself!
Personality:
Capable of both icy calm and towering rages, anyone who survives the first quickly comes to prefer the second, being both less dangerous and easier to detect by comparison with his normal demeanour of cold patience and restraint. He knows what he wants, he thinks he knows how to get it, and nothing, not the will of the gods, nor his task being merely impossible, will stop him.
Pseudoedit: Goddamn server issues.
Nintendo Network ID: AzraelRose
DropBox invite link - get 500MB extra free.
Is the Character Builder a DDI thing? If so, that's why I don't have it.
Also, is it incredibly useful? If it makes creation substantially easier I might get a subscription - because I spent about 2 hours trekking through Adventurer's Vault 1 & 2 trying to track down magic items that I thought might be useful
Character Builder is nice to have, especially if you don't want to spend a ton of money on all the different books. It aggregates every bit of information out there. So Feats, Powers, Magic Items, etc come from all the different sources. Not just splatbooks, but also Dragon Magazines. So there's alot of info that you wouldn't normally have access to, unless you're a crazy collector (like me!)
Even if you do have all the books, you might not think to look at the Skill Feats from PHB3 for your character, or something like that.
Even if you only grab it for 1 month, it's still a good investment to sign up for DDI and take a look. The only problem is you don't have access to the Offline Builder anymore (at least I don't think you do), so the Orokos import doesn't always work correctly.
The current Character Builder is quite amazingly terrible. The old Legacy Character Builder, which was a program installed on your computer, was fantastic.
White FC: 0819 3350 1787
Nintendo Network ID: AzraelRose
DropBox invite link - get 500MB extra free.