As was foretold, we've added advertisements to the forums! If you have questions, or if you encounter any bugs, please visit this thread: https://forums.penny-arcade.com/discussion/240191/forum-advertisement-faq-and-reports-thread/
Options
[4e D&D]Ravenloft - Castles Forlorn - Recruitment Thread
Illianthar
GMT -0700Registered User regular
GMT -0700Registered User regular
Castles Forlorn
Time Is Meaningless in Castle Tristenoira
Back of the Box wrote:Forlorn has long remained hidden in the shadows of notorious Barovia and Kartakass, yet the tiniest domain in the lands of the core is nearly as old as Ravenloft itself. This land is sick with evil, a twisted mockery of the place it once was. It is filled with creatures of despair who were drawn into the demiplane of dread.
Within Castle Tristenoira lies oblivion. The crumbling keep slips in and out of time, carrying its unwary explorers across the centuries, where they may be abandoned to the cold winds of eternity - and to the ghosts in the castle! Spirits both innocent and guilty haunt the timeless passages, whispering tales of murder and vengeance. Escape is for the lucky . . . or the hopelessly mad.
Castles Forlorn is a 2nd Edition boxed set module for the Ravenloft Campaign Setting. I'll be adapting it for 4th Edition, and I am looking for a fearless band of heroes to brave the horrors of the Demiplane of Dread.
I'll accept submissions through 8/12, 11:59:59pm Arizona Time (GMT -7)
Standard Submission Stuff: Name/Appearance/Background/Token (if you have one)/Link to Sheet
Character Background:
Your Subconscious wrote:A rolling mist blinds you. Despite its impenetrable thickness, the mist feels neither cold nor wet. In fact, the only clue of its existence is the fact that it has totally obscured your sight. You wander through the unending gray without any real sense of direction. Frantically you break into a run, trying anything you can think of to escape the vapors, but to no avail. The mists surround you utterly. Irrationally, you start to feel that the mists are "enjoying" the struggle that you are putting up against them.
Then, just as quickly as they appeared, the mists vanish. A frigid wind hits your face, chilling you to the bone as you take in your surroundings. You're standing amidst a grove of oak trees, on a hill overlooking a small village. A blanket of pure white snow covers the ground both in the village and on the hill leading to the grove, undisturbed by tracks of any kind. Puffs of white smoke rise from the chimneys of the thatch-roofed dwellings below. No movement of any kind if visible within the village, but still the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. You feel as though you're being watched by hundreds of eyes, peeking out from behind closed curtains and slightly cracked doors. As you stare in confusion, the chimney smoke swirls and seems to acknowledge your presence, picking up speed and flying with the wind straight towards you. Before you can act, the smoke surrounds you in a churning cloud, and once more you're sight is completely obscured.
How long you're in the cloud you do not know, but eventually you start to hear the sounds of shouting. Very faint at first, they grow louder and louder until they are all around you. Spinning in a circle you struggle to see the source of the sounds against the mist, but to no avail. The shouts surround you and intensify, and you start to make out the slight glow of torches through the mist. When you run to where the torchlight is, you can't seem to get there. The torches and shouting continue to be all around you, but always outside of your view and reach.
Within a few seconds, the sounds recede, the torchlight fades and again you're plunged into the silence of the mists. Apprehensively, you spin around, weapons at the ready, searching for some way to escape, but there is no solace. Finally you calm yourself, closing your eyes momentarily in the deafening stillness while you take several deep breaths.
When next you open your eyes, you recoil in horror at the sight before you. A young woman hangs before you from a noose which is tightly wrapped around her neck. Her eyes are closed, and her neck has been snapped to the side. The woman is wearing a long, flowing dress with a sash across the waist. The sash has alternating stripes of pure white and deep green.
She swings back and forth slightly, her arms hanging loosely at her sides. You reach out to her, but your hand passes through her with no resistance. Looking into her face, you start as her eyes snap open, staring seemingly through you completely. In a hoarse whisper, the apparition calls out, "Save my child…."
In an instant, the entire scene disappears, and you awaken from the dream, sweating and shaking from the experience.
Your character has just awoken abruptly from having the above dream. What were you doing the night before you had the dream? Were you adventuring through a dungeon, resting at an inn, sleeping in a forest? Did you suddenly collapse and black out in the middle of Waterdeep, or were you resting while hiding from the sun in the deserts of Athas? Where your character is from is completely up to you, but try and end your background with as much information surrounding when you had the dream as possible.
Selected characters will go through a personalized "opening vignette" which will unite them with the other PCs. This vignette starts after the character wakes up from the dream, so hence the focus on providing background information for that; it'll give me a jumping-off point.
Crunch Info:
Sheets can be on Orokos or Myth-Weavers, but be sure to link either way.
Looking for 4 PCs.
Looking for 4 PCs.
- Level 5
- Standard Starting Gold/Items for 5th Level (Level 6/5/4 magic items, then 1000gp for other purchases)
- Any Race / Class from any printed 4th Edition material
- 22 point buy
- Background can be from any source material
- General Themes are in, if you want one (No Dark Sun themes, just the others please)
- One free Expertise Feat
- No Inherent Bonuses
Illianthar on
0
Posts
Currently DMing: None
Characters
[5e] Dural Melairkyn - AC 18 | HP 40 | Melee +5/1d8+3 | Spell +4/DC 12
I'm going to let pretty much anything go, and see what happens (for better for for worse
@Pinfeldorf: There are quite a few NPCs in this module, and they're all deeply fleshed out; with a ton of personality. I would say that, while combat is still very much going to happen, there's just as much (if not more) problem-solving and role-playing that needs to be done. Without giving away much more than that, I can say there's an entire 100-page book that comes with the module that is just background and role-playing information.
Also, silly question here, but...Dark Sun is the only campaign book I actually have, and as such is the world I know the most about. Is it outlandish to want a Dark Sun theme on a Dark Sun character? They just fit better in my mind.
That being said, I'm willing to take the chance, so if you're rolling a Dark Sun character, feel free to use a Dark Sun theme. I'll edit the OP.
Otherwise, background coming soon.
The Mists of Ravenloft
The Mists of Ravenloft surround the entire demiplane at all times, creating the Misty Border. They do not radiate an aura of magic, nor reveal any alignment or sign of life. To all eyes, they appear to be normal fog. But they are anything but 'normal'. The Mists can reach into the Material Plane and transport unsuspecting characters into Ravenloft. With time, they can surround an entire portion of land and consume it, too.
No one can command the Mists to perform in this fashion. Where the Mists appear in the prime material plane and who they carry into Ravenloft is beyond the control of anyone living or dead. But when a character has a great enough need or desire, Ravenloft may respond to them. Usually, the Mists are content to transport a few hapless travelers, leaving others behind. In some worlds, sages speak of entire armies that have vanished in a fog, and it is conceivable that the Mists of Ravenloft have swallowed their ranks.
These mystical vapors are permanent fixtures in Ravenloft's Misty Border, but they can rise from the soil anywhere in the demiplane, creating a temporary pocket of doom. As a result, a character may be transported from place to place within the demiplane - from fog bank to fog bank - and be powerless to spot it. This also means a character who enters the demiplane from another realm may find himself deposited anywhere in Ravenloft, stranded by the vapors which dissipate around him.
Thinking a ranger, this time...
Background
Riardon begged to be sent, to go on one of the most important and dangerous assignments available. There were whispers and rumors of a ruin dating from just before the fall of the Hobgoblin empire unearthed in some of the last fighting of the war. This would be extremely important, if it existed, and eventually Riardon and a small team were sent out to recover whatever they could from it it. They spent months hunting down the sources of the rumors, greasing palms and 'persuading' in both violent and benign fashions until a solid lead led them to northern Breland. They were able to persuade a rather shady collector to give them the exact location, which is how they found themselves on the property of a minor lord in northern Breland.
The ruin had been mostly emptied by the time they arrived, possibly by the soldiers who had unearthed it, but they were able to find a singular tome in the rubble that had been overlooked. Nearly complete, it held more than a thousand pages of stories and history of their ancient empire. Chalking the expedition up as a success, the small group began their journey home. Unfortunately, a week down the road, they were accosted by several former Breland soldiers turned mercenary, one of which had had family who was killed when the Hobgoblins carved out their own nation. They ruthlessly attacked, leaving Riardon the only survivor. They tortured him for several days, disfiguring his face, before stealing all his possessions and leaving him for dead. He was barely able to survive, returning home in abject failure.
He was then assigned to search remote islands in the north, as punishment and de facto exile. Stuck on a ship, violently tossing in a sea wreathed in near-perpetual rain and storm, Riardon has spent the last week in and out of consciousness. He is barely tolerated by most of the crew, a collection of barely competent smugglers trying to hold their rotting ship together enough to deliver their cargo. Most had been soldiers before the end of the war, and some still held a grudge against the goblins for carving out their own land. Already violently ill from the swells of the sea, he has stayed as quiet as possible below deck with whatever meager food and water the crew deign to give him.
Appearance/Mannerisms
Tentative image (It is really hard to find Hobgoblin pictures!)
Berach, Elven Ranger
Background
That changed, quickly, when his father and mother brought him along on a "community hunt", where many of the Sylvan Hunters joined together to take down larger prey in large groups, enough to feed the rest of the village.
Berach, while looking for nuts and berries, found himself onset by a boar. The boar did not seem to mind his presence, until he noticed the moss that Berach had gathered for a tasty snack. He placed the moss down, knowing full well what the beast wanted, and stepped back slowly. The boar did not care, however. It saw the Elf as a threat, encroaching on its' territory. It snorted and stamped, as Ber tried to make himself look less threatening. Still, it did not care. With a snarl and a roar, it charged. Berach let fly an arrow, not even aware he had nocked an arrow, and watched as the beast nearly effortlessly slid to a stop.
"I...I killed it."
He was still a child, barely 60 years old, but it felt like he was already becoming a man. The sight of the dead boar did not shock him, like he thought it would.He had never PERSONALLY killed an animal, and this was a hell of a catch! The boar could easily feed his family for days.
"Berach! I heard the boar and..." his father paused, "You...you killed it? Valna! Valna come quick, our boy killed his first meal!"
The family rejoiced, although a mix of nausea and pride washed over him. He had never killed anything, at least nothing large enough to eat. Should he be ashamed for ending a creatures life, or proud that he personally brought sustenance to his people.
A few days passed, and as the boar was reduced to skin and bones, he was deep in thought as his mother tanned the hide and his father fashioned arrowheads from the bone. He decided to sneak away, to pray to Melora while he could.
"Father...I must pray. I am confused," he told the Priest that was tending to the shrine.
"Oh? What of, child?"
"I...I killed a boar. I know it's expected of me, but I feel at odds with myself."
"Understandable. Do you want to starve?"
"No, of course not."
"Mmhmm. And why did the boar attack you?"
"I...I don't know. I had some moss, I guess it thought I had more?"
"Or it was territorial. Melora did not save you, child. Do you know why?"
Berach cocked his head, "Why not?"
"Because she respects the struggle of life. You did not murder a boar. You slew it for food. It would not have murdered you, it would have been protecting its' territory. Do not let an inevitable death worry you, even if you caused it. Melora supports all who strive to live, even if they must kill to survive."
Since then, Berach has been training and honing his craft day in and day out, becoming an amazing archer with incredible accuracy. But his life took a strange turn.
He awoke in a sweat after experiencing what can only be described as a startling vision. Less a dream, more a dark prophecy. With little warning, he gathered his belongings and left, being sure to grab a few frozen arrows and his trusty bow, Stormstrike, and a combat harness from his families storeroom. Without so much as a farewell, he was on the road, looking for something that he wasn't even sure what it was.
Appearance/Mannerisms
Berach is a simple elf, as far as looks go. His hair is long, straight, and black. His body, thin and wiry. His armor is in no way ornate, a simple battle harness with latches for quick stowing and drawing of weapons; essential for a Ranger. He is abrupt, but not socially inept, finding little need in being anything other than straight forward. Like all elves, he does tend to overreact, positively and negatively, in many situations. Through the years, he has grown to love the idea of combat, but feels ashamed by this.
Galrin, Human Paladin
Background:
Galrin joined The Order when he was very young. He was taken from his home and family because The Order, through their powerful augurys and divinations, saw the purity of his spirit and the tenacity of his will. He would become one of their divine champions and rid the world of evil. It was the law of the land.
Through the hardship of his life in The Order, Galrin has learnt the value of the purity of purpose. He has but one purpose - seek out heresy and the dark things that infest the land, and purge them with purist flame. He is an exceptional warrior, even within The Order and has led many crusades against the darkness.
Most recently, Galrin finds himself leading a mission into a small village to hunt out a witch. Normally such things would be far beneath him, the work of minor clerics and petty savants - not the work of a mighty Paladin of Bahumut! Nonetheless, he felt oddly compelled to lead the mission. Some truly dark forces are at work. Forces he can feel are just out of reach, just out of sight.
Appearance and Mannerism's:
In his mighty plate armour and with great-sword in hand, Galrin is every bit the knight in shining armour. The fire in his spirit is tempered with the cold of justice.
Despite his upbringing, most are surprised to learn that this avenging knight is warm and compassionate to those he counts amongst his friends. In times of peace, he can even be somewhat jovial. However, there can be no doubt that when it comes to seeking out and purging heresy and evil, Galrin is singular in his purpose - it must be destroyed!
Thoughts of a Part-Time Hobbyist - A Wargaming and RPG Blog
Liking the submissions so far. Still got plenty of time for others to get in on the fun, though!
Then you get the + to hit, as well as a + to damage if the target has nothing else adjacent to it.
Bow Expertise
Benefit: You gain a +1 feat bonus to weapon attack rolls that you make with a bow. In addition, you gain a +1 bonus to the damage roll of any weapon attack you make with a bow against a single creature that is not adjacent to any other creature. Both of these bonuses increase to +2 at 11th level and +3 at 21st level.
At least you don't have a Holy Avenger... :twisted:
Background:
Marc woke with a start, jerking upright and hitting his head on the ceiling of the lightning rail. Cursing, he rubbed his head, and muttered about the shoddy, cramped design of the rail. Truth be told, the fault lay with him more than the train; at 6'4", Marc was well accustomed to hitting his head on things designed for people of smaller stature.
The pain in his head subsiding, he closed his eyes and tired to grasp the fading memory of the dream.
Save my child...
He was no stranger to dead bodies in his work as an Inquisitive, but it had been a while since they had given him nightmares. He tried to remember the face of the corpse. The memory was hazy, but Marc was fairly certain he had never seen the woman before. His reverie was interrupted by the announcement that the lightning rail would soon reach its destination, the city of Passage. Marc pulled out his traveling papers, making sure everything was in order before he got off.
Name: Marc Redfield, they said. Place of Birth: Korth. Marc could remember the streets of his hometown, in the few short years of his childhood. He had grown up believing in the glory of his homeland, only to witness firsthand its rotten core. Drafted into a dead and dying army, Marc saw his share of horrors. He shook his head. Best move on from that. Hanged women were the least horrific specters lurking in the shadows of his memory. Occupation: Inquisitive. Marc's dream had been to become one of the famed Inquisitives, and once the War had ended, he got the chance to do just that. Point of origin: Thaliost. A man had been burned alive, and his murderer had been revealed as a fanatical member of the Church of the Silver Flame. Marc shook his head. As a member of the Church himself, he hated those that smeared what should be a tolerant faith with acts of violence. Destination: Passage. From what he had heard, the next case wouldn't be much cleaner. A notable merchant had been killed in an apparently untraceable fashion. Initial reports were chalking it up to magic. Marc was not looking forward to investigating; arcane magic was too dangerous, and too commonplace, in his opinion. Any yahoo with some gold to rub between his fingers could learn to summon a fireball. His consoled himself by imagining that those fools were as like to blow themselves up as someone else.
Well, his papers were in order. Marc folded open his pack, making sure nobody had made off with his supplies. He grinned when he saw his Inquisitive's kit and accompanying disguise set. The only thing more trusty than his well-worn crossbow was the kit he had purchased with his scant funds immediately after the War. He checked the bundle of bolts he had bought; 100 should see him through another few weeks at least. At the side of his pack was the Scroll of Knock he had picked up in Thaliost. It wasn't exactly protocol, but it was better than carrying around a set of Thieves' Tools. Marc prided himself on never breaking rules, but bending them in the name of efficiency was a different matter. Two sunrods sat at the bottom, one of the few useful and least destructive inventions of the wizards.
Marc rubbed the lucky charm around his neck. The hilt of his first dagger was well worn, with age and the constant wear it suffered around his neck, but he felt an attachment to it all the same. His other hand slid along the sleeve of his opposite arm, checking that the hilt of his current dagger was in place and well hidden.
Good, then; it seemed everything was ready.
The train came slowly to a halt, and Marc stood up, and headed to the exit. Whatever lay on the other side of that door, would certainly prove to be interesting...
Appearance/Mannerisms:
Marc is a tall, lanky human, with brown eyes and hair. He is sound of body, though occasionally experiences flashbacks to the War. His time in the army of Karrnath inspired a fear and mistrust of all magical arts, and he is suspicious of any magic users. However, he is a regular worshiper of the Silver Flame, whispering prayers for guidance or thanks from time to time. He takes pride in his work as an Inquisitive, but has difficulty separating his work and his life.
My Steam
Other than that, definitely looks like it could do some damage at range.
My Steam
OP updated, for anyone else in the thread that maybe has a second idea they want to try.
Background:
Recently, Vetis has been tracking a sorceress said to be capturing children for some vile ritual. Progress has been slow, but Vetis is patient...
Appearance and Image:
Vetis is somewhat short and thin half-elf. Her raven hair is usually close-cropped. She is normally quite severe, but holds a special place in her heart for the poor and mistreated. She harbors a special hatred for the undead and other abominations, and will go out of her way to eradicate them.
Got one more week to go for submissions, then it'll be time to choose and get started.
Background:
prefers. While in his youth, he was confronted by a great bear who marked him as one of her cubs. Aiuriun has
wandered from one great wood to the next, constantly in search of a great bear that has guided him throughout his
life, pondering the reason for the great bear's protection. He has never taken on any momumental quest, primarily
making his livelyhood as a drifting hunter, often assisting outlying villages with the great beasts that would
plague them from time to time. While resting after one such task, Aiuriun is awoken from a fitful dream by the great
bellow of his guardian...
Aiuriun carries a totem in the shape of his great matriarical bear, always keeping it close for both comfort and
guidance. He stands just under 6 feet with dark, wild hair and beard. His face marks his ursine side, often showing
his cainines while speaking. Aiuriun perfers the shape of the bear while on the hunt or threatened, keeping his dark brown
hair and knowing eyes.
Controllers
Aiuriun Irisrune - Razorclaw Shifter Druid
Vetis Tuong, Half-Elf Invoker
Defenders
Galrin, Human Paladin
Leaders
Riardon, Hobgoblin Bard
Strikers
Berach, Elven Ranger
Marc Redtail, Human Rogue
Edit: Fixed the amount of days left...since I obviously thought it was already Thursday...
"Couldn't find it sir. Frisked 'er twice sir, no weapons sir."
The fat human quailed as his superior rounded on him. "You do understand that these fey are adept at weaving illusions, yes? And would it not behove them to conceal weapons when taken into custody?"
"S-she's got nothin' sir, even them clothes are army issue sir." Elcard turned from the stuttering guard. He supposed these gnomes were unlikely able to employ their tricks when unconscious. This one had, reportedly, fallen into such a state halfway through butchering one of his patrols. Before he could berate the guard further, the small fey began to stir.
"Ah, awake at last." Bending slightly and speaking in his most condescending tone, the commander said loudly "Where. Is. Your. Wea-pon?"
His reply was an eyeful of spit and some slurred curse in that odd gnomish tongue. Wiping his face with a red glove with what dignity he could muster, the commander turned back to the guard. "Fetch the scourge, we'll show these small folk how to speak the god's language."
Elcard's howl of anger could be heard throughout the camp when he turned to find the cell empty. Were it not for his hollering, the human may also have heard a derisive chuckle on the breeze.
Auga, Gnome Freedom Fighter
Background
Appearance
Personality
Uff so apparently the pact blade feat isn't available to hybrid warlocks now. Might retool this character, kind of liked the background.
Updated the sheet.
Ok, I know it's a hybrid roguelock multiclassed as assassin, but I think it works.
Background
Forced into a pact with Tectuktitlay at an age earlier than he can remember, simply so Maxlixoco could have the perfect arena champion? Led to believe murdering innocent people on the gladiatorial floor was, somehow, acceptable? Told at every turn that he was special, different, beyond normal rules for slaves, that he deserved the best...but only after, after, after..! After what? It had to stop.
He was welcomed into the palace one day by the roaring cheers of the crowd. He hefted his obsidian "hammer" high above his head, as if to receive the praise the crowd was laying at his feet. He lowered his gaze, and through the shimmer of the midday sun reflecting upon the sand of the combat floor, he saw an adversary he could never defeat.
His sister looked back at him, despair, shame and defiance carved into her features. She had been broken. Her will, her body...she was in no condition to fight. A thunderous voice erupted from the dais above the roar of the crowd, "This one has betrayed her master, and upon being questioned by the moon priests about where her loyalties truly lie, she disgraced the name of jasuan knight by slaying them. Her punishment, as given by the High Moon Priest Maxlixoco, is the shame of a public sacrifice, after which her head shall be on display at the Golden Moon Gate for two fortnight. Thus it is decreed, and thus it shall be carried out."
Marale had two options, here, realistically; he could attempt to kill his sister, as abhorrent as the idea might seem, but he was not sure that even in her current state that was a thing he could do were she to fight back. They hadn't spoken in quite some time, and it is possible she would resign herself and let it happen. No doubt she was thinking the same as he was, in regards to his second option; flight. If there was one thing the two of them were capable of, it was survival. He could easily sow confusion enough in the stands to give them a fair chance at escape, and she surely knew routes through the city that could get them out of it with little issue. Unless Tectuktitlay himself were present...
His thoughts ran wild as his eyes darted around the crammed bleachers lining the edge of the pit. "Forgive me, brother. There is not enough justice in this world, and I must do my part to show Draj's true citizens that some, at least, remains." With these final words, she did the unimaginable. She planted her hands on the sandy floor and began the casting of a spell he had thought only a legend. Her eyes flared a brilliant green, and a single, enormous tree enveloped her faster than he could place what was going on. The tree kept growing. The crowd's reaction was both awe and disgust, turning more toward awe as the tree finally finished its growth, standing near 500 feet into the air. Marale fell to his knees, and for the first time in his life, tears streamed down his face.
He would not stand idly by while his sister's sacrifice went for naught. Surely her grand tree would be hacked to pieces for these filthy bastards to have yet another useless piece of frivolity. While the High Moon Priest and his guards slept, Marale utilized his fell magic to creep unnoticed into his chambers. He stood above Maxlixoco's withered, frail form, lying peacefully in his impossibly comfortable bed. His "hammer" came crashing down with a terrible, sickening sound, an enormous blast of white-streaked purple light coruscating from the knuckles on the head of it. Rivulets of blood oozed down his face as he wiped chunks of gore from the hand on the once pristine white silk bedding. Shouts of alarm echoed throughout the halls outside of the High Moon Priest's chamber, no doubt in response to his brazen light display. With not a glance to his rear, he retreated into a series of escape tunnels that, with Maxlixoco's death, the only person who knows of them is himself. With a clear path to the exit several miles to the south, nothing but freedom, vengeance and hardship lay before him.
Appearance
Mannerisms
Controllers
Aiuriun Irisrune - Razorclaw Shifter Druid (Peff)
Vetis Tuong, Half-Elf Invoker (KetBra)
Defenders
Galrin, Human Paladin (Lezta)
Leaders
Am, Tiefling Ardent (deadonthestreet)
Riardon, Hobgoblin Bard (Z0re)
Strikers
Auga, Gnome Freedom Fighter (Grog)
Berach, Elven Ranger (The Muffin Man)
Marale Partik, Mul Warlock (Pinfeldorf)
Marc Redtail, Human Rogue (DrDinosaur)
The war was not for Am. He did not like being under the command of any kingdom, did not believe in fighting for any cause other than his own. So he didn't; he struck out on his own, eventually hooking up with a group of sky pirates. Ah, now this was the life, flying free in the skies of Eberron, fighting, stealing, and doing essentially only what you want.
Well, no, that's not true. You mostly do what the captain wants. And sometimes the captain wants different stuff than you. And following orders, even if they don't come from a king, is pretty terrible.
So Am left the group of pirates, but did not want to give up pirating. The only solution was to get his own ship and crew. Pretty hard to get a crew without a ship though. Air ships are expensive so acquiring it in a legit manner was out. It took him months to plan how to talk his way in to the shipyard and onto an empty ship.
Am is not a good planner. He got on the ship all right, even got it off the ground. Didn't count on being followed, though. So here he is, fleeing from several ships, trying to fly alone. It is not turning out well. The ship is being hit by spell and spear. It is going down. As the ship falls, Am falls unconscious, and has the strangest dream...
Personality/appearance
He does not like to be ordered around. He has no religion. He'll work hard but only if there's something in it for him.
I think an ardent will be cool because in a place where everyone is emotionally damaged and under a lot of stress, he can either help them stay calm or exploit their weaknesses to his advantage.
If someone happens to get in here with an application in the next hour, then I'll accept it, but failing that, here's the final list:
Controllers
Aiuriun Irisrune - Razorclaw Shifter Druid (Peff)
Vetis Tuong, Half-Elf Invoker (KetBra)
Defenders
Galrin, Human Paladin (Lezta)
Arlex, Warforged Swordmage (Tmoiy)
Leaders
Am, Tiefling Ardent (deadonthestreet)
Riardon, Hobgoblin Bard (Z0re)
Strikers
Auga, Gnome Freedom Fighter (Grog)
Berach, Elven Ranger (The Muffin Man)
Marale Partik, Mul Warlock (Pinfeldorf)
Marc Redtail, Human Rogue (DrDinosaur)
I'll make my decision by the end of the weekend, and get the PM's out to those that made it (and post the results here in the thread) either Sunday night or Monday morning.
Many thanks to everyone that applied. The submissions are all incredible, and it's obvious there's alot of Eberron love out there!
A fleeting thought crossed my mind that I would just take everyone and run two groups, but with all the customization and re-writing I have to do to this module, that isn't really feasible. So somehow I'll have to narrow it down to 4. Thanks again everyone, and talk to you again Sunday or Monday.