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[RECRUITING] [DND 4e PbP] The Serpent Swallows its Tail
I'm looking to replace this character and get started early next week so this recruitment probably won't be up for a long time. We took a large break over the holidays, mostly due to loss of my entire VTT Artwork library, and all the maps I put together for the game. During that time we lost a defender and a 6th character who we will not be replacing (5 makes for less time waiting on another poster)
Weekends are for fun, Weekdays are for posting to PbP's while you're at work, alleviating some of the tedium.
I'm looking for a 1/day during the week posting schedule, but understand if you can't always make it. Weekends aren't expected, but may happen occasionally.
Please post your submission in this thread and I'll get back to you ASAP!
Garrok grew up within the Gray Vale, a child of carpenter in one of the smaller villages. While he was taught woodworking, he spent more and more of his adolescence training with the local militia or just wandering the nearby woods, listening to voices on the wind.
Things would have continued this way except for a goblin attack on his village one winter. Wounded and his fellow warriors close to rout, he howled in rage and the spirits howled with him. Tearing through the greenskins in a burst of primal magic, he managed to lead the militiamen in repelling the goblins.
Following this, a wanderlust quickly grew in him, and Garrok finally decided to leave, trusting his fate to the spirits and the Lady of the Forest.
Visually, he's battle-scarred halfling with a clean shaven head, and the scraggly shadow of a beard (unusual among halflings, who almost never have much facial hair). In halfling terms, he's a giant and muscled like an ox. To the larger folk, he probably looks just as short as any other halfling.
Only rarely is deBaron seen without a bottle of cheap liquor in hand, and he's never caught without an arsenal of weaponry strapped to his back in various mismatching loops and sheaths. He currently favors a set of heavy studded leather for protection, though rumor has it that's only because he sold his scale mail for ale money.
Quick to laugh, and quicker to anger, the halfling is a good friend to have and a terrible enemy to make. He once killed a man for a grudge that he'd forgetten the particulars of months before... though he was fairly sure the arse deserved it.
Background (part 1)
He once had a simple life. He once had a wife and a home. He lived as a simple laborer back then, doing whatever menial labor the village needed done. He was uniquely suited to the task, seeing how he was half again as tall as any other halfling he knew, and twice as strong. His mum said it was because his father was a human, the result of her one night with a hero who'd saved her from a pack of bandits.
But she said a lot of things. She said he was destined for greatness. She said that he wasn't worth anything if he couldn't measure up to his mythical Pa. She'd almost put them out of house and home to pay for trainers and soldiers to make deBaron into a warrior to compare to this heroic figure. deBaron went through the motions, but his heart was never in it.
She didn't even know that bastard's real name. Nope, the only thing she knew was that his mates had called him, "The Bull." All that meant for deBaron was that the other children had an easy nickname to call him when he lost his temper. "Little Bull, Little Bull" they'd call out as he chased them, oh how he hated that name back then. But it stuck, of course. Even his mum seemed to forget the name she'd given him. Of course she would, anything to make her "little bull" seem like the hero that'd taken her maidenhead and left the next day.
Some hero. When his mother was finally done for this plane, she lay on her deathbed weak as a babe, barely able to speak. Though it strained her nearly into unconsciousness, she managed to impart one last message to her only child. "Why couldn't you be like him? Why did you have to be... such a disappointment..."
Darien, a regular at the Tankard, has always felt that his bulk is his primary asset. His ancestors were once fine artisans, primarily jewelers and goldsmiths, but during the tumult of the Spellplague and the following century, their traditional crafts have been lost, replaced with a series of desperate and trodden-upon families, struggling to eke out a living. Darien's father left early in his life, and his mother remarried a cruel man. Darien set out on his own in his early teens, doing odd jobs in and around Loudwater. For the last few years, he's been an unofficial bouncer at the Tankard, mainly sitting around and looking intimidating, in an attempt to encourage troublemakers to head over to the Fisher's Friend or elsewhere.
While he does enjoy long hours at the pub and the occasional opportunity to show folks the business end of his maul, he would love the chance to get out and see some more of the world, and to maybe make something of the Urtoli family name again.
I'm still fairly new to 4e in general, as well as FR, so if I missed something or got something wrong, please let me know. Thanks!
Raised on a trade-ship like any self-respecting halfling, Nebin's quick wit and deft hands kept him out of trouble, despite his best efforts to the contrary. When his ship was attacked by raiders, fighting for life in the rapids, Nebin made a desperate plea for help, pledging his life to the gods in exchange for salvation. A tribe of wood-elves happened upon him and took him in, and making good on his word (for once) Nebin apprenticed as a Paladin.
Nebin's knack for getting the best price on a deal never left him, and with the paladin's robes, he seemed more trustworthy than ever. Accompanying a caravan to Loudwater, Nebin's mind wanders dreaming again of saling the rivers looking for adventure.
I can promise you far more than 1 post/day - work has been really slow lately!
Despite the healing graces of Toril's many deities, there has always been a need for the mundane healing arts. Doc Hendry was one such mundane sawbones who catered mainly to those who could not afford the mercies of the priests and clerics. He also healed many of those who wanted to avoid the notice of the churches' temporal powers -- criminals, blasphemers, heretics -- and those who distrusted the spiritual powers that the priests served.
After he lost his practice, Doc Hendry took to drinking. Doc's father, the elder Hendry, had been a drunk, as had his father before him. The drink was in his veins, and soon Doc was spending more time in the pub than out of it, drinking and fighting.
Fighting. It had taken Doc Hendry thirty-three years to find his gods-given talent -- for taking men apart.
Seldom sober, Doc barely noticed as he was bundled into the local clandestine boxing leagues. It was the kind of boxing in which those fighters who used only their fists were suffering from a severe lack of imagination.
Doc was brilliant.
Personality:
Doc Hendry is generally quiet and reserved, but when he grows interested in some odd phenomenon (natural, magical, medical, mundane) he becomes animated, verbose, and totally engrossed. Because -- of course -- Doc is a man of knowledge first and a fighter second, and that only accidentally.
He doesn't have a magical bone in his body, but Doc is fascinated by the arcane. Just because he can't do magic doesn't mean he can't learn about it! Before the drinking, most of his nights were spent with books, in libraries. Magic, history, medicine, the natural world. All were fascinating and are fascinating still, as long as he can keep himself sober.
Summary: Doc is not at all a big, dumb fighter. He is a big, nerdy fighter.
Appearance:
Campaign Connection:
After a fight in Loudwater, Doc's winnings quickly find themselves in the hands of the barman at the Green Tankard, where he drinks himself slowly but surely into a stupor. When he comes around, he hears that there was some sort of attack. Goblins? It was a fight that actually mattered, and where was Doc? There were deaths, and he might have prevented them!
Angry, frustrated and hating himself, Doc blearily follows the directions given by a ridiculously-dressed wizard. He sobers up as he stumbles through the forest and realizes the severity of his situation. De thinks about turning back, but takes a moment to look around. He knows the names and signs of the forest's edible plants, he can recognise some humanoid tracks going forward, and he's beginning to suspect they're headed straight to the old dwarven barrow.
Whoops, I didn't realize there was a recruitment thread, so I went ahead and posted my submission on the OOC thread. Sorry about that; I'll just re-post that information here.
----
Okay, I've finished up the character as quickly as possible. The character sheet itself needs some filling out near the bottom (just background stuff, which I intended to post here instead), but I think it's all done. I had originally intended to play a Genasai Swordmage, because that's something I'd never done before (I've got limited experience as a Fighter, Paladin and Warden, but I've never played a Swordmage); unfortunately, it looks like the character you've recently lost was a Genasi Swordmage, so I wanted to steer clear of that. What I ended up with is a Half-Orc Fighter from Calimshan with serious Paladin flavour:
Fadrimah abd Al-Muqit - Half-Orc Fighter, Multi-class Paladin.
Background:
Fadi's birth name was Ulmgurrath Crow's Blood; he was born amid the Trackless Seas -- 17th son of the Nelantherese warchief, Nulmgath the Biter. Although his father's savage ferocity and bitter cruelty was feared from Skaug to distant Amn, the treachery of Nulmgath's eldest son, Urtogg the Eater-of-Men, would be his eventual undoing; Urtogg betrayed his father to the corsairs of Ioma in exchange for control of the Crow's Blood tribe. Ulmgurrath, still too young to wield a blade in his tribe's defense, was sold into slavery and taken across the seas to Calimport, but not before Nulmgath tore out the boy's eye, so that he might come to understand the will of Gruumsh, even in the absence of his people.
When he arrived in Calimport, slavers determined the crippled boy to be of little value, and he was taken in by the House of Bound Hands, to be raised as an Ilmatari. He learned compassion in his new home, even as Calimport spiraled out of control in the wake of Calim and Memnon's war. The Ilmatari worked in secret, helping slaves escape the city, and healing the wounded, diseased, and forgotten as best they could. When he came of age, Ulmgurrath swore himself to the service of Ilmater, and took upon himself both the title of "Paladin" and an Alzhedo name, like those of his new family: Fadrimah abd Al-Muqit.
Fadi had found happiness, but he never felt quite right about his situation; though he had earned the respect of his brothers, and of the House, he knew as well as anyone that an orcish heart beat within his breast, and that he'd never be truly accepted in his new home -- then one day, he learned that alcohol warmed his wild spirit, calmed his mind, and quieted those thoughts. He would come to know the love of a young tavern girl named Zafirah, who served at his favorite watering hole, the Brazen Foal, but when he came upon her being assaulted by a man outside the tavern one night, he lost control, and in a drunken rage, beat the man's face until it turned to bloody paste on the cobblestone, killing him.
The elders of the House, reluctant to cast Fadi from their order completely, given his history and exemplary devotion to Ilmater, exiled him from the lands of Calimshan until the day when he learns to control himself. It's been several years since then, and Fadrimah abd Al-Muqit continues to wander Toril in search of redemption, and some way to earn himself back within the walls of the House of Bound Hands.
Description:
Fadi's hair is thick and black, worn short to help keep cool beneath the desert sun. His beard is the length of a man's fist, and his prominent side-locks (similar to traditional jewish peyot) tumble down to his chest in tight curls. His left eye is amber in colour, while the other is an empty socket, covered by a patch of black leather. Although barrel chested and heavy, Fadrimah is exceptionally quick, owing perhaps to his orcish heritage, and is a surprisingly technical swordsman. He's learned to fight in the traditional Alzhedo style: with a sword in each hand. His blades are old, but reliable, having been passed down through the House over the years. The first of these weapons is called "Poverty", and the second, "Troth"; names meant to remind their wielder of Ilmater's teachings.
Seeing as it looks like the party is also missing their only Striker, I've added a Slayer version of deBaron. Once he gets Glowering Threat at 2nd level, he'll be able to do well in both the damaging and defending roles.
Plus, I've wanting to see how these "Essentials" classes would fare in a game
Posts
Background
Things would have continued this way except for a goblin attack on his village one winter. Wounded and his fellow warriors close to rout, he howled in rage and the spirits howled with him. Tearing through the greenskins in a burst of primal magic, he managed to lead the militiamen in repelling the goblins.
Following this, a wanderlust quickly grew in him, and Garrok finally decided to leave, trusting his fate to the spirits and the Lady of the Forest.
deBaron "Little Bull" Redspear, the Brawler fighter
(New, alternate Slayer version!)
Personality / Visual Description
Only rarely is deBaron seen without a bottle of cheap liquor in hand, and he's never caught without an arsenal of weaponry strapped to his back in various mismatching loops and sheaths. He currently favors a set of heavy studded leather for protection, though rumor has it that's only because he sold his scale mail for ale money.
Quick to laugh, and quicker to anger, the halfling is a good friend to have and a terrible enemy to make. He once killed a man for a grudge that he'd forgetten the particulars of months before... though he was fairly sure the arse deserved it.
Background (part 1)
But she said a lot of things. She said he was destined for greatness. She said that he wasn't worth anything if he couldn't measure up to his mythical Pa. She'd almost put them out of house and home to pay for trainers and soldiers to make deBaron into a warrior to compare to this heroic figure. deBaron went through the motions, but his heart was never in it.
She didn't even know that bastard's real name. Nope, the only thing she knew was that his mates had called him, "The Bull." All that meant for deBaron was that the other children had an easy nickname to call him when he lost his temper. "Little Bull, Little Bull" they'd call out as he chased them, oh how he hated that name back then. But it stuck, of course. Even his mum seemed to forget the name she'd given him. Of course she would, anything to make her "little bull" seem like the hero that'd taken her maidenhead and left the next day.
Some hero. When his mother was finally done for this plane, she lay on her deathbed weak as a babe, barely able to speak. Though it strained her nearly into unconsciousness, she managed to impart one last message to her only child. "Why couldn't you be like him? Why did you have to be... such a disappointment..."
<< To be continued... >>
Background
While he does enjoy long hours at the pub and the occasional opportunity to show folks the business end of his maul, he would love the chance to get out and see some more of the world, and to maybe make something of the Urtoli family name again.
Background:
Nebin's knack for getting the best price on a deal never left him, and with the paladin's robes, he seemed more trustworthy than ever. Accompanying a caravan to Loudwater, Nebin's mind wanders dreaming again of saling the rivers looking for adventure.
I can promise you far more than 1 post/day - work has been really slow lately!
Backstory:
After he lost his practice, Doc Hendry took to drinking. Doc's father, the elder Hendry, had been a drunk, as had his father before him. The drink was in his veins, and soon Doc was spending more time in the pub than out of it, drinking and fighting.
Fighting. It had taken Doc Hendry thirty-three years to find his gods-given talent -- for taking men apart.
Seldom sober, Doc barely noticed as he was bundled into the local clandestine boxing leagues. It was the kind of boxing in which those fighters who used only their fists were suffering from a severe lack of imagination.
Doc was brilliant.
Personality:
He doesn't have a magical bone in his body, but Doc is fascinated by the arcane. Just because he can't do magic doesn't mean he can't learn about it! Before the drinking, most of his nights were spent with books, in libraries. Magic, history, medicine, the natural world. All were fascinating and are fascinating still, as long as he can keep himself sober.
Summary: Doc is not at all a big, dumb fighter. He is a big, nerdy fighter.
Appearance:
Campaign Connection:
Angry, frustrated and hating himself, Doc blearily follows the directions given by a ridiculously-dressed wizard. He sobers up as he stumbles through the forest and realizes the severity of his situation. De thinks about turning back, but takes a moment to look around. He knows the names and signs of the forest's edible plants, he can recognise some humanoid tracks going forward, and he's beginning to suspect they're headed straight to the old dwarven barrow.
It's time to do something important again.
----
Okay, I've finished up the character as quickly as possible. The character sheet itself needs some filling out near the bottom (just background stuff, which I intended to post here instead), but I think it's all done. I had originally intended to play a Genasai Swordmage, because that's something I'd never done before (I've got limited experience as a Fighter, Paladin and Warden, but I've never played a Swordmage); unfortunately, it looks like the character you've recently lost was a Genasi Swordmage, so I wanted to steer clear of that. What I ended up with is a Half-Orc Fighter from Calimshan with serious Paladin flavour:
Fadrimah abd Al-Muqit - Half-Orc Fighter, Multi-class Paladin.
Background:
When he arrived in Calimport, slavers determined the crippled boy to be of little value, and he was taken in by the House of Bound Hands, to be raised as an Ilmatari. He learned compassion in his new home, even as Calimport spiraled out of control in the wake of Calim and Memnon's war. The Ilmatari worked in secret, helping slaves escape the city, and healing the wounded, diseased, and forgotten as best they could. When he came of age, Ulmgurrath swore himself to the service of Ilmater, and took upon himself both the title of "Paladin" and an Alzhedo name, like those of his new family: Fadrimah abd Al-Muqit.
Fadi had found happiness, but he never felt quite right about his situation; though he had earned the respect of his brothers, and of the House, he knew as well as anyone that an orcish heart beat within his breast, and that he'd never be truly accepted in his new home -- then one day, he learned that alcohol warmed his wild spirit, calmed his mind, and quieted those thoughts. He would come to know the love of a young tavern girl named Zafirah, who served at his favorite watering hole, the Brazen Foal, but when he came upon her being assaulted by a man outside the tavern one night, he lost control, and in a drunken rage, beat the man's face until it turned to bloody paste on the cobblestone, killing him.
The elders of the House, reluctant to cast Fadi from their order completely, given his history and exemplary devotion to Ilmater, exiled him from the lands of Calimshan until the day when he learns to control himself. It's been several years since then, and Fadrimah abd Al-Muqit continues to wander Toril in search of redemption, and some way to earn himself back within the walls of the House of Bound Hands.
Description:
Plus, I've wanting to see how these "Essentials" classes would fare in a game
They hate all the submissions, and will be going with a bard played by Snowdown's cat, Mr. Wiggles.
I'm sorry that I've kept you all in......anticipation.....for an extra day.
The decision wasn't an easy one. All characters submitted had lots of flavor and great potential.
The group and I have selected Debaron Redspear as the new defender. There's just something about a beefy halfling with a nasty temper.
To the rest of you, please keep in touch, thank you for submitting, and best of luck in the future! I liked all of your characters quite a bit.
Squish, please PM me when you're around. I'm at work and will check periodically throughout the day.