Everybody wants to do omghuge damage. I know for me, I've been playing a lot of leaders. I've played 5 leaders, 1 defender, 1 controller, and 1 striker so far. My only annoyance with leaders is that we can feel a bit hamstrung sometimes. I might just be building things wrong though.
Well, in all of my D&D games I'm torn between controllers/leaders and strikers, but my first character was a ranger, so I'm partial to strikers. All of these characters are looking cool, I'm sad to see that there won't be a frog man running around, but oh well. I'm glad I don't have to decide this.
I'm kind of partial to controllers first also, most of the time. Although to be honest, I've DM'd plenty of times in 4e but have only actually been a PC once, and that was a controller...so maybe it's just that first love kind of thing...
Illianthar on
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AnialosCollies are love, Collies are life!Shadowbrook ColliesRegistered Userregular
edited June 2011
I like playing whatever is most helpful to the group. Of course this usually ends up being a defender or a leader. Interestingly enough my last IRL session I had to switch over to a striker because the only people able to make it were a leader and controller. Would have been a very long and drawn out and possibly deadly couple of fights without it.
edit2: since then 5 leaders, 3 controllers, 3 defenders, 2 strikers and a frog
Good quote there. So, here's try three, a throw back to my first character, I figure a ranged striker can't hurt when there's sure to be naval battles.
Steven Seagull, Ranger Outlaw
Summary:
====== Created Using Wizards of the Coast D&D Character Builder ======
Human, Ranger
Build: Archer Ranger
Fighting Style Option: Archer Fighting Style
Ranger Option: Prime Shot
Human Power Selection Option: Heroic Effort
Lyrandar Privateer (+2 to Athletics)
FINAL ABILITY SCORES
STR 10, CON 13, DEX 18, INT 10, WIS 14, CHA 8
STARTING ABILITY SCORES
STR 10, CON 11, DEX 18, INT 10, WIS 14, CHA 8
Steven grew up in the Lhazaar Principalities, under the rule of a prince, his father told him stories of the noble past, when pirates were outlawed and none dared to interrupt the flow of trade. But it was a different time during the war, and eventually Steven found himself on a pirate crew. He served as one of the captain's assistants, which meant that whenever the captain dueled, it fell to Steven to make sure he never lost. Sure with his bow, he kept his word, until one day he was offered a better position on another crew, he let his captain die in exchange for their gold.
But he was fooled, and the ship turned him into one of the more "noble" principalities, he was left to rot in the prison, his time in prison was unkind, he made enemies out of the guards and fellow prisoners. Managing to infuriate one guard enough one day to bring him into his cell, he murdered his captor and ran for it. Finding himself on the run, he stole some goods from the keeps armory and made his way to the docks, his only true home. He staid low until he could find employment, on the Crimson Wave. Looking to start his life anew, and get as far away from his former prison as possible, he looks forward to his journeys with this new crew.
Appearance:
An unassuming build, his skin dirtied and paled from his time in the prince's prison, with wild untamed dark hair, he resembles your average street beggar. The only thing putting him apart from the rest was his bow and stolen guard leathers.
Personality and Mannerisms:
Steven isn't the most loyal companion, and his past has made him very selfish. He looks out for himself, but knows that his fate is usually intertwined with that of his crew, so he regards any weaknesses or failures on their part that of his own, and he seeks to help them, if only to keep himself alive. His humor is dark, and he typically keeps it to himself, though he is curious about the oddities of his world, and will strike up conversation if he thinks he can learn from it. His motivations are keeping his freedom, and his life, in his own hands for as long as possible.
I think that's a good spread to even up my chances, a pretty workable background, an a very "normal" type of character, which I hope will distinguish him alittle bit more than my other two.
Actual appearance:
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AnialosCollies are love, Collies are life!Shadowbrook ColliesRegistered Userregular
Damn, I could of used my 3rd character as a pun guy. Oh well.
Yeah, that's too bad you didn't guy, probably would have gotten you a spot.
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AegeriTiny wee bacteriumsPlateau of LengRegistered Userregular
edited June 2011
Simfair “The Maelstorm” Surehand: I really love the detailed background you've made and I like the character build as well (keen to see a Blackguard in play).
I will say there is something potentially conspiring against you though: You *might* be getting an offer for another game shortly due to your... geographical location. It might even be related to me! How I know this? It's a mystery
Aristotle, Elf Wizard Noble: I like the background here and the build as wizards make a really solid controller. I have to admit that I haven't seen any non-mages in a while now, so good to see another implement master wizard.
Steven Seagull, Ranger Outlaw: From a meta point of view, that is plain hilarious but it does work background and build wise as well. I will have to ponder that one!
Not many know where Foamgather is, and while some of its residents may prefer it that way, Mattias will let you in on a secret: most of them don't even know! Most of its inhabitants never leave. Well, until now.
You see, Mattias grew up as a fishmonger's son. The youngest of three boys, he grew up in the water. He learned to swim long before he learned to walk, and he learned to fish before he learned to fight (but not by much, some of those Aerenal eels are ornery!). It was quickly discovered that Melora favored him as a fisherman, for his net seemed to always be full of fish. He loved it. Being in the water, the thrill of finding bigger and more elusive fish, there was nothing like it. But there just wasn't enough variety. He had caught every kind of fish within miles of Foamgather, and he wanted to catch every kind of fish on the planet! It had been some time since the Sahuagin attacks, and even though he was valued as a warrior, his father understood his wanderlust. Putting aside his own feelings, he gave Mattias his blessing to set forth and fulfill his destiny - to be the most famous fisherman in all of Eberron!
It wasn't until a few months after leaving home that Mattias realized he wasn't quite...normal. He could hear the call of the ocean's spirits. He wasn't entirely sure what any of this meant, but he knew it granted him some rather unique abilities. He was able to call upon some of these spirits to aid him in his fishing, and that was all he really cared about. He could also call upon them if he needed to defend himself, but that wasn't a thing he had much need for, as he never really had to defend himself from fish...but he was hoping he'd have to!
His journeys have taken him from Kraken Bay (very inappropriately named, as he never once saw a kraken to catch!) to Regalport, where he quickly found a like-minded group of people he found easy to consort with - pirates! They did what they wanted and how they wanted, and they were amazed at how good at catching and cooking fish he was! He fit right in!
Appearance:
Mattias is very sun-darkened, with unkempt dishwater blond hair and a pathetic, scraggly beard. He wears a simple, green leather tunic and pants, coated in and cured with tuna liver oil to give him greater swimming ease. His ears are pierced and decorated with earrings of small seashells. He is short and thin, but muscular. His arms are covered in long, thin scars, presumably from scrapes with coral, planks with jutting nails or the like (in actuality half are from learning how to use his net properly). There are two things you will always see with him: his shoeless feet and his net. He often has his net wrapped around his hand and forearm, with the spikes and barbs carefully positioned on the inside so as not to wound himself.
Mannerisms:
Mattias is extremely easygoing. He laughs, he jokes, he just has fun. But when it comes to fishing, his game face is always on. He seems to be able to flip an inner switch, from jovial and affluent to driven and focused. He doesn't really have a sense of honor, but his courage runs as deep as his dive.
Miscellaneous info:
He speaks Elven because Foamgather is about halfway between Aerenal and Khorvaire, and they frequently had Elven seafarers dock for short periods of time to trade some of the goods they couldn't get off shore.
The only primal spirit I feel Mattias has a connection to is the World Serpent, and he views it as the King Kong of fish. He knows it is a fish he cannot catch, and hopes to become useful to it, so as to use its knowledge to catch all the other fish!
If there was a way, I'd like to give him some sort of negative value to certain skills on land but a bonus while at sea, but the game mechanics aren't super amazing that way. I do consider his land-based creature knowledge checks to be essentially nothing, barring humanoids.
Varog's younger years were spent leading a small cadre of notorious goblinoid highwaymen, ambushing and robbing passing merchants, trade caravans, and anything else on the roads that might yield exotic treasures not easily found in the wilds. Owing to his Bugbear stock and a natural talent for wrestling, Varog found it easy to domineer over his lesser kin, and exploited them to fulfill his lust for rarities and riches.
As the winds of war change, however, so too do trade routes, and before long nearly all traffic on the roads ceased. Varog's supply of marks had vanished, and soon the small clan found itself in a dangerous spot between clashing armies. Rumors soon began to circle of an opportunity for gold-- a mercenary corps. run by House Tharask was recruiting gnolls, ogres, goblins, and a host of other humanoid monsters to fill ranks. Finding their native wilds less hospitable than ever, and his desire for new wealth wholly intact, Varog enlisted his clan with the Liondrake's Roar mercenaries. No longer complacent to wait for opportunity to come to him, Vorag sought to seize fortune with his own hands.
Varog's time with the troop was relatively brief. It became apparent to him in short order that he and his monstrous comrades were being used as expendable front line fodder. Though he was short tempered, driven by gluttony and savage impulses, Varog was no fool, and considered his situation shrewdly. After a particularly disastrous tactical blunder on the part of a commanding officer, nearly all of Varog's former clan was slaughtered in an ambush, and it seemed Varog could tolerate no more. Under cover of night, Varog deserted his post, and shortly afterward absconded into the wilds carrying a pack bulging with a potpourri of various officers' personal possessions.
Fleeing as far as possible from the war, Varog eventually found himself in the Lazhaar Principalities, where, as it turns out, many would have use for the talents of a Bugbear with flexible morality and a taste for coin. Varog's greed led him inexorably to the seedier underbelly of the cities he stayed in, and the employ of criminals, though he made no qualms about doing honest work if it paid exceptionally well. Privateer, burglar, hired goon-- Varog was paid almost as frequently for his fearsome physical presence as he was for his aptitude with crushing tracheas and, surprisingly, his natural prowess in stealth. Though he was once again a sword for hire, Varog would have no more to do with armies, and generally did his best to refuse suicide missions.
Unless, of course, the price was right.
Personality and Appearance
Gluttony and Avarice utterly compel Varog, and he is mostly powerless to resist. Varog's lust for treasure could give a dragon a run for its money (har).
Though he despises incompetence and bureaucracy, Varog is accustomed to the dynamics of working with a tribe or clan, and is willing to bow to a leader whose cunning or ferocity commands respect. That, or snap someone in half and take the lead himself. Allies who Varog can truly trust to cover his back are rare enough that he can be unexpectedly loyal and amicable to such individuals. He perversely considers them to be a kind of "treasure" in their own right, and worthy of "collecting".
Varog does not much relish violence and savagery for its own sake, but has developed a kind of narcotic, pavlovian association with it, since in his line of work it usually precedes the acquisition of loot. This is to say, a casual observer might be understandably mistaken when they say Varog is a "bloodthirsty beast" and that they have seen him "cackling maniacally while strangling two men at once with one hand".
Physically, Varog is built stout like the stuff of mountains and trees. He stands a little over seven feet tall and nearly three hundred pounds. His stiff, bristling brown body hair peeks out from the gaps in his armor, and reveals rippling sinewy limbs in places with less hair coverage. Varog's midsection seems decidedly paunchy, but feels like stone to the touch. His face settles into an uneven, almost smug seeming smirk when at rest, with a few snaggly fangs protruding from his mouth at all times. Varog's clawed, meaty hands are large enough to fully encapsulate a human head in their grasp, which is a configuration they have taken on a number of times in the past.
Varog is usually seen sporting a lightweight armor constructed from various layered hides, and a trident, a tool which he grew fond of during his time in Lhazhaar for its versatility in combat and ubiquity within seaside locales.
Mechanics/Strategy
Varog is a Brawler Fighter, so while he carries a trident, his empty offhand is just as likely to be used for powers which enable grappling and smashing enemies. I'm hoping Varog will have a future full of headlocks, choking, and overall assisting with keeping the enemy in check while his friends eviscerate them.
~ I have actually played very little 4th edition, have limited access to rulebooks/supplements, and as such appreciate advice on builds and rules!~
I would also wish to note clearly I am not currently involved with any D&D games in any context
Uncheck 'recommended weapons' for the online CB, or check 'show all weapons' for the offline version. You can use anything marked 'large' to increase its damage die by one size.
In short, you turn your trident into d10 at no cost to yourself. This bullshittery also lets you take a certain ED that lets you use weapons as if you were 1 size larger, and a Bugbear with that ED can use a Mordenkrad...in one hand. Get some.
I have heard that the oversize trait was errata'd away for bugbears, or at least not intended for actual PC use, but that is nonetheless indeed the sort of thing that I appreciate tips about.
OoOoh well then I will gladly relinquish my spot in the PbP for that
Doesn't really matter I had a LOT of fun writing his backstory.
Amigu on
BitD PbP Character Volstrom
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AegeriTiny wee bacteriumsPlateau of LengRegistered Userregular
edited June 2011
You should keep the character concept around: In reality Marauders of the Elemental Chaos is this games evil planar twin in some ways. The opening of both games is almost a mirror of the other, but of course the first adventure and the plot of the game is entirely different. I just thought I would mention that in case you thought it wasn't happening, but just as soon as some of my book from New Zealand arrive there is going to be an email/PM to you shortly.
Mattias Saltbreeze: I am really tempted to take a Seeker on the whole "sticking it to Wizards" aspect alone. I like the background and concept as well. If you wanted to add in something about a Kraken, I can tell you that there is such a creature in the Lhazaar principalities - at least according to those who have seen ships sunk by something in the distance on misty nights. Nobody has ever actually lived through an attack first hand though...
Varog: You are indeed correct in thinking that I don't really approve much of the bugbears oversized weapons. I do like the characters concept and background aside from that, but if I did take your character I would probably think of some other powers or features to replace oversized weapons. I really like the brawler fighter as a concept and I think (alongside the tempest fighter) is arguably one of the most "pirate" feeling of the defenders in DnD.
Seer, but I can't get this to be a part of the cbloader stuff
Appearance:
An older man in well-kept but old leathers, under which corroded mail links can be seen, Edvar appears older than his actual years. His skin is weathered and tough. All of the hairs on his head are grey or white, and both are prodigiously long and unkempt. When he is moving, perceptive observers can see a hint of a blue glyph running from his head down his neck, though most of the time his long collar obscures this. His eyes are grey but they seem to darken or change color slightly, depending on when you look at them. He carries with him a long polished driftwood staff, a waterproofed satchel and wears tall boots which appear to be treated with a sort of resin.
Mannerisms and Personality Traits:
Erratic and terse, Edvar has few friends. He speaks quickly and without regard for people's feelings and can become upset very easily. Edvar can be calm and contemplative, and has been known to make startlingly accurate predictions about everything from the weather, to what the captain of his ship will eat next. From time to time, he mutters to himself in a strange language.
Background:
Edvar the mad is actually Edvar d'Lyrandar, a long forgotten scion of House Lyrandar. He ran away from home at a young age and has spent much of his time on ships, first serving as a deckhand and then, as an innate power grew within him, as a ship's mage. He worships the sea, and consequently worships the Devourer in his own way, reveling in the destruction and power of ocean storms. Drawing power from the sea itself, he has the ability to predict the future with uncanny accuracy, and has used this power to provide a valuable service to captain of legitimate and less-than-legitimate enterprise, even if they give him a wide berth while he serves them. His reputation is of an erratic, dangerous man, but a valuable addition to a crew, as he has saved many ships from certain doom. From time to time, certain... things... must be sacrificed to appease the sea, and woe to the sailor that does not follow Edvar's council.
During the last war, Edvar was serving much of the time on the ship "Shacklewake" in the principalities themselves, a smuggling ship for the highest bidder, though they often found themselves working for Karnath. He is in the principalities because he has been here since the age of 16, and though almost no people know that he is a member of House Lyrandar, some suspect. He is aboard the Crimson Wave in order to provide his usual ship's service, weather prediction.
I wasn't certain whether to put in certain elements of the background here, but I can take them out if necessary.
My question: how do the drow fit into Eberron? I'm a FR guy so my Eberron experience is limited, but I did play DDO for awhile and seem to recall drow being an option. Anyone have suggested reading on how the drow figure into the world?
Tunos on
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AegisFear My DanceOvershot Toronto, Landed in OttawaRegistered Userregular
edited June 2011
Drow are a forested/jungle race in Eberron. They even have their own feats for racial weapons (boomerangs and a drow long-knife which is a blade that also functions as a heavy thrown weapon).
AegeriTiny wee bacteriumsPlateau of LengRegistered Userregular
edited June 2011
Drow come from Xen'Drik in Eberron, which is rather like a version of 1800s Africa. Xen'Drik is most notable for the fact the Drow there worship a scorpion god called Vulkoor, the landscape changes randomly due to a magical curse that destroyed the entire continent and for having numerous strange artifacts. Overall it's a pretty great place for adventuring. It's worth noting that Drow aren't inherently evil or anything in Eberron, the Vulkoori for example are tribal and are a common source of adventurers. The Umbragen fight a never ending battle against terrors rising up from the depths of Khyber (one they might be losing, to the surface worlds detriment) and the Sulatar. The Sulatar are exceptional at binding fire elementals, serve fire giants as their masters and are the most evil of the three groups.
Edvar d'Lyrandar: I love the concept and the background there. Plus that sort of plot hook can have all kinds of interesting elements in it, especially with how House Lyrandar wants to move into the Lhazaar Principalities more.
I liked it, though this guy would be most fun, I'll probably throw up some combination of leader and defender in the next few hours as well. Just so you know, I am playing in my first PbP on the boards with Illianthar as DM.
Y'know I've been staring at this thread for three days; himmin' an' hawwin' an' droppin' G's.
Post #154 reserved as all hell. I'm writin'.
I am not playing any pbp games of any varietal.
Finished: "Hello..."
Bio
"...I've taken the name Bal, young master."
Some said that Bal came by his name as short for Balsa, as he was a rarely seen warforged made up almost entirely of a motley of woods; leaving him lighter than most of his brethren. Others say that his name's origin lies in the term Ballast, and hearkens to a time when everything... expendable aboard a ship upon which he served was thrown overboard in the middle of a raging storm to lighten the ship's load. Bal speaks little of his past, neither confirming these stories or discussing his role in the Last War.
A liberal minded observer would say that Bal drank the kool-aid with regards to Khorvaire's view of his species. He essentially sees warforged as the second class citizens many infer them to be. Bal will always defer to his biological counterparts in almost every way, and tends to address people with a heavier dose of formality and title than necessary. Without making a conscious choice, Bal will generally identify an "alpha" personality in a group setting and semi-attach himself to this person's will. He will certainly voice opinions and such (i.e. still a PC) but he will also follow this person's orders to a T and - if they can inspire his loyalty - to his own death as well.
In Bal's life, the sole exception to his natural deference was when he captain'd his own ship. Captain Bal was an iron fisted commander who brooked no argument from sailor or serpent, sea or sky. He was a terrible fisherman, a terrible businessman, and a terrible foe.
"The fish ain't worth it, buccaneer!" roared the wooden man across the foaming chop. "Sail off while you can, and best pray the Devourer save you the day I run your flag up my mast!"
***
"You... you're Captain Bal!"
"It's... just Bal now, if it please you, m'lady."
"They still tell stories o' you at some of the tavern hearths for miles around here. You were the hardest trawler on this bit o' coast for years."
"A captain's got to be a man, whatever he's made of. And I ain't a captain, not no more. M'lady."
"I'm a waitress."
Faith
Bal has had a [strike]love-hate[/strike] fear-respect relationship with the Devourer for most of his life. He shows deference and fear for the sea more than he really prays. His superstitious beliefs can best be described as an ignorant, secular occultism - a mixture of sailor legend and his own device - rather than true worship. Chief among his beliefs are a set of perceived "rules" which control the fate of all on the seas.
History
Bal had been on a ship... where? Doing what? It was all gone now, his service to Cyre as scorched away as the land itself. He awoke on the western shores of Thrane two weeks after the Day of Mourning; burnt, broken, and afraid. Even before the shock of what had happened to Cyre began to fade, hatred and fear gripped the populace. To them, Bal was a relic of a shattered land - and for all they knew the cause of it's fall. He was a monster. He was hunted. He ran.
The water was his only refuge, a place of relative safety. He walked the shore and the shallows - often trudging with the surface well over his head - and stole inland at night to find tools and materials for repair. Slowly he made his way north to the mouth of the sea, and took work on a ship doing the only job he could - serving as a sentinel.
Eventually, Bal came into his own small vessel and turned fisherman for a number of years. His greatest assets to his own business were that 1) he did not require to eat, and thus could not truly fail and 2) he could hunt the depths with spear and net, bringing in some more rare and valuable species of fish most others could not reach. This made up for his otherwise poor acumen in business and trawling. He was wealthy by no means, but for a time Bal was truly happy.
Bal would also occasionally scavenge trinkets from sunken shoals - but never too deep, and never too far from the coasts... Bal was no fool.
Last year, a ferocious storm [DM alternate option: stolen?] has taken down his beloved ship. Bal has turned back to his old life, the life of servitude and soldiery that his makers had meant him to lead, in hope of securing enough gold to purchase a new ship and returning to his life of freedom.
Just enough for a new ship, that's all, Bal swore. The Devourer gives an' the Devourer takes. Takes, mostly. But not this time. I'll earn this one fair. I'll sail off. I'll earn this one fair an' he'll have no claim to 'er.
Physical Description
Before you stands a patchwork warforged who appears to be hewn almost entirely from a motley of salt-stained wood. Only his hands and a slotted heartplate remain iron - the latter of which slides similar to a lantern's shutter to reveal what once must have been a working lightstone. He bears two fat little brass tanks on his back, and stoops slightly - as if they bear a great weight within.
A GIS on "wooden warforged" actually returns Gabe's DA as the top result, and it looks pretty good... most are really metallic and heavy looking. Also home team and such, if we need tokens I'd like that one.
Character Sheet
I went with a Warden & the Cleric multiclass feat. Sheet up on Mythweavers. I am still willing to play other roles if needs be assuming they fit the character.
Equipment Folded into character sheet; left notes here that were still relevant.
a pair of 2liter brass tanks (built onto back - air to control depth vs his weight, also propels nets)
a trident which Bal identifies with his fishing life, and another martial weapon which Bal identifies with his soldier'ing life. (Warhammer)
Last Thing
I know a bit more about Bal than I have said. I could divulge this stuff publicly, privately, or just see how it plays out if I get picked with no machina* involved, intentional or otherwise.
Pock always enjoyed making pretty colors. To do this, he felt around inside himself where he discovered a power. Surprised to find a power this big in a person so small as himself, he spent quite alot of time going about to the other gnomes and trying to show them. That's when the barn exploded. It wasn't his fault, really. After all, Adora -did- ask him to show her. It's not his fault she made him excited. After being kicked out of his village for material damage, Pock decided to roam the world and try to show others his pretty colors. He learned he could focus them a bit, though the results weren't always the same, they were close enough.
Pock decided that if he could make pretty colors, he could find others that could as well. Then they could all try to make the best ones possible. Not a dumb gnome, but certainly not the wisest. After all, when they finally kicked him out he was inside the cotton barn trying to make the ice ball he had conjured up melt. By shooting lit matches at it with his mind. Since then, Pock's been moving from town to town trying to do odd jobs and not get kicked out for accidentally freezing a well. When the war started, Pock was washing dishes in a small town around the center of Khorvaire.
A few wounded troops from a mercenary band had come into town and started threatening the nice woman that owned the tavern. When Pock tried to be friendly to the men and calm them down, they resorted to violence against Pock and the woman. In his successful efforts to defeat the men, Pock unfortunately also defeated the tavern. His profuse apologies did not soothe the grief of the woman, so Pock moved on. In his travels he discovered a few places willing to train him in his magical abilities, to unlock more potential and hopefully more control, but all required sums too large for his dishwasher salaries. So Pock continued on and ended up in the Lhazaar Principalities.
Here, he searched for odd jobs but eventually found one aboard the Crimson Wave as a cook. He had impressed the recruiter with his minor ability to conjure spice from thin air and light a fire for cooking with a snap of his fingers. Though he may have hidden a pouch of spices in his sleeve or two. He hopes the wages from the journey will make enough to gain entry into a magic school, or at least to meet interesting people on the way!
I am not playing any games anywhere, though I applied for the one recruiting here that needed a replacement. Dying to get into a game as no one in my town wants to play one! It's been a while since I've made a character but I work in front of a computer and have alllll day to post. And i'm not a DM now, but I've tried to DM stuff in the past! I think I setup Pock correctly, please let me know if I did something wrong and I'll go fix it.
edit: Oh, and theme! Theme would be Explorer. Or maybe Wizard's Apprentice, but given he's not actually one of those but only aspiring, Explorer makes more sense.
ITEMS
Adventurer's Kit
Short sword x2
Hide Armor x1
====== End ======
Background
Sarna is the son of a fisherman. During the war, he was press-ganged into service on the merchant marine vessel, The Emerald Rose. His water affinity proved useful during boarding actions and with time he was given more and more responsibility. With the end of the war, he was released from service and has since been working for whomever with have him. His skill with a blade and lack of ethics makes him an attractive addition to any pirate crew. His time spent stealing trinkets and treats from dockside vendors has also proven useful, giving him a means to make ends meet when work is hard to find. He finds himself in the Lhazaar Principalities at the end of a long voyage and is once again looking for work.
Theme
I'd like to go with Guttersnipe since it fits the feel of a pickpocket-y dockside kid.
I am currently DMing two tabletop games (one Dark Heresy and one PoL D&D), and playing in none.
Mareak was the son of a farmer who lived in the nation of Karrnath, near the Icewood forest. As a child, Mareak grew up knowing that his future was all but certain. His family was one of the small number of local farmers, and the Last War produced an insatiable demand on their tireless efforts.
When the time came for him, at 18, to participate in his mandatory military service, he eagerly took the chance to get away from the work and toil on the farm. Though he saw terrifying sights in the warfare, it was a grand adventure for a poor farmer's boy, and at the end of his two years, he attempted to get his service extended, but to no avail; his country needed him more on the fields of his farm than the fields of battle.
He resented every day he had to spend on the farm. An ambitious desire had been awakened in him, one that would not be satisfied with pedantic farm work. And when the war finally ended, he thought his chance at adventure had been cut off forever, that he would spend his days working the farm.
The forest whispered to him that it wasn't true.
He wasn't sure he had heard it at first. It was a twitch at the back of his mind, nothing verbal. But in the days and weeks after he first heard The Voice, it grew. It grew from a whisper to a call, a note to a song. His father started looking at him worriedly, warning him to stay out of the forest. It had been something he had heard since childhood. He had fought in a war, he could handle a few wild animals. He didn't have to listen to that tired old fool. So he snuck out one night, into the forest, to discover the source of The Voice. Following what appeared to be the source of the sound, Mareak found himself delving deeper and deeper into the forest, and noticed a headache beginning to form. As the night got later and later, he went deeper and deeper, and his headache got worse and worse.
When he finally thought he couldn't take it anymore and decided to turn back, he came across a clearing. A massive, glowing shape sat in the middle, pulsing quietly. Mareak slowly approached it, reached out a hand, and was struck with a sudden pain in his head, and blacked out.
When he awoke, he was lying in his bed at his father's farmhouse. He beheld the sight of his father, eyes cast downward, and his younger sister looking worriedly into the room. Downstairs he could hear his mother working in the kitchen. His father raised his head.
"What happened out there, boy?" Mareak looked down, realizing the depths of his stupidity. "I'm sorry, dad. I saw a troll, and I, I..." his voice trailed off. How could he have been so stupid? His father shook his head. "I'm not talking about your little adventure. I, uh...look, boy," Mareak noticed he was wringing his hat in his hands, "did you, er, touch a glowing crystal? I know it sounds silly, but just answer the question." Mareak wracked his brain, but couldn't remember a thing about what had happened the last night. He had snuck out, then...he shook his head. It hurt too much to think so hard. "Well, your arm. Healer says the only explination for it is that you've, uh, you found the Madstone." "My arm? Is it broken or something?" His father sighed. "Maybe you should take a look, son." Mareak looked down, pulling his arm from under the covers. It was covered in a tightly wound bandage. "Go ahead, wind the bandage off." He moved his good hand to the end of the bandage, unwinding it from his arm. His apparently completely normal arm. "What's wrong, dad? It looks normal to me." He wiggled his fingers. "Yeah, it's fine." His father's face showed an odd combination of relief and worry. "It, well, your arm I mean, it was...uh, different than that, when we found you." Mareak started getting a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach. "What do you mean, dad?"
His arm suddenly twitched. And then burst into a cloud of insects.
When his arm changed back and he stopped screaming, his father stood up. "I'm sorry, son, but the healer said there's...there's nothing he can do for you. He sent for some scholars, people who are versed in primal lore. There's hope that they might find a, a cure." He stood in the doorframe and looked back. "Get some rest, now."
Mareak spent the rest of the evening staring fearfully at his arm, a watch that was not helped by the revelation that his other arm was capable of the same feat. After wrapping both arms, and soon after, legs, in spare bandages, Mareak hoped he had reigned in this new power.
When his entire body became a swarm of locusts, those listening outside his room could hear a buzzing of insects that sounded remarkably like a human scream.
After a week had passed, Mareak could take no more sitting around, waiting for the nebulous promise of a cure. He fled his home, taking a dagger and a paltry amount of gold. Having no other source of income, he began preying on travelers on the road from Irontown to Vulyar. Being a relative newcomer to the outlaw buisness, he found himself jailed more than a few times. When the threat of death became too close, he fled once again, this time to the Lhazaar Principalities. hoping that they would take a more lackadaisical approach to law enforcement, or the opportunity for a reformation. He made his goal the city of Regalport, and bought passage on a ship, the Crimson Wave, with most of his ill-gotten gains.
Personality and Appearance:
Though he has achieved the ability to transform at-will, Mareak still cannot stop himself from transforming at inopportune times. He has ensured that very little flesh is exposed, wrapping himself in boots, gloves, stitched-together hides, and old bandages. He speaks in the plural, and while he is terrified and not entirely sane due to his encounter with the Madstone, the fragment of his personality that yearns for adventure still burns strong. He idolizes and looks up to those he considers heroes, and constantly jumps on opportunities to do something exciting himself.
Is it no longer possible to make a level 1 character for free via Wizards? How would one get a sheet to load into Orokos if not - is that basically a subscribers only bit now? I spose I'll just use Mythweavers, unless someone has a better idea.
Only one warforged so far? Well, here's another, probably my only other submission.
NOTE: I designed this guy as a hybrid, but would be happy to thow out the swordmage hybrid and be a pure artificer, but didn't want to submit multiple characters in this way. As a hybrid he makes a decent 5th-man to a party, but he can't be the solo healer without being pure artificer. The character concept is similar either way.
Alchemist, this time I think it's included in the character sheet!
Appearance and Mannerisms:
Rune wears leather armor over his relatively small frame, and has a fair number of daggers in bandoliers and his belt. His backpack is overstuffed with strange and noxious materials that periodically drip out. Much of his body is pitted and corroded, as if he had been in some sort of chemical explosion, but bright blue and green runes stand out all over the visible parts of his body. Where wood normally adorns a warforged body, Rune appears to have some combination of flexible membranes which occasionally leak fluids of varying colors. His eyes are bright and friendly.
Personality Traits:
Rune does not speak much, though when he does, his voice is low and rumbling. He laughs easily at jokes, and is always ready to help his shipmates out, though if he believes nobody is looking, he will stare west across the water. He works efficiently at his required tasks, maintaining any machinery and chemicals required for a voyage, often using his seemingly inexhaustible satchel. When he explains something, he often uses extraordinarily technical language, and can become frustrated when others cannot understand him.
Background:
Rune was built and fought for Aundair in the last war, by House Cannith. On the day of mourning, he was escorting a young noble woman sorceress as forces from Aundair sought to land at Eston to take the port city from the Cyrians. He does not fully remember what happened next, but a terrible explostion wracked his ship, and he lost consciousness. When he awoke, everything was in ruins and he found himself covered with pits, burns and that all of the organic parts of his body were changed into a strange black substance. Of the non-warforged in the battle, it appeared that all had been killed instantly in the explosion. He carried the body of the young woman back to Aundair. He was cast out of the floating city for failing to protect the important girl, who seemingly would not respond to any sort of revivification magic. The nobles blamed him and told him that he was responsible. Having nowhere else to go, but having a knack for a number of types of impressive magic, as well as experience in seamanship, he set himself to becoming a sort of mechanic of the sea. After some time, he developed unique concoctions and poultices which could plug holes in boats almost instantly, or coatings for ballistas to set the enemy's ship afire. He tried to get honest work for the most part, though he fell in with unsavory characters from time to time, and found his way to the far east of Khorvaire, plying his craft as he could. He is aboard the Crimson Wave precisely because he has a unique ability to help protect ships, and the heavy protection is precisely up his alley. He still feels bad about the death of his ward, and is always looking for ways to heal or protect those around him.
Litejedi on
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AssuranIs swinging on the SpiralRegistered Userregular
edited June 2011
So, the VTR game was cancelled, so it looks like I'm free to apply for this one. I may have some mandatory OT this morning, which means it may take a couple days, but I'll try to get a couple characters up by Sunday.
Posts
edit: for the first dozen anyways
edit2: since then 5 leaders, 3 controllers, 3 defenders, 2 strikers and a frog
Good quote there. So, here's try three, a throw back to my first character, I figure a ranged striker can't hurt when there's sure to be naval battles.
Steven Seagull, Ranger Outlaw
Summary:
Human, Ranger
Build: Archer Ranger
Fighting Style Option: Archer Fighting Style
Ranger Option: Prime Shot
Human Power Selection Option: Heroic Effort
Lyrandar Privateer (+2 to Athletics)
FINAL ABILITY SCORES
STR 10, CON 13, DEX 18, INT 10, WIS 14, CHA 8
STARTING ABILITY SCORES
STR 10, CON 11, DEX 18, INT 10, WIS 14, CHA 8
AC: 16 Fort: 13 Ref: 16 Will: 13
HP: 25 Surges: 7 Surge Value: 6
TRAINED SKILLS
Acrobatics +11, Athletics +7, Heal +7, Nature +7, Perception +7, Stealth +9
UNTRAINED SKILLS
Arcana +0, Bluff –1, Diplomacy –1, Dungeoneering +2, Endurance +1, History +0, Insight +2, Intimidate –1, Religion +0, Streetwise –1, Thievery +4
POWERS
Basic Attack: Melee Basic Attack
Basic Attack: Ranged Basic Attack
Human Racial Power: Heroic Effort
Hunter's Quarry Power: Hunter's Quarry
Ranger Attack 1: Twin Strike
Ranger Attack 1: Nimble Strike
Ranger Attack 1: Skirmish Shot
Ranger Attack 1: Hunter's Bear Trap
FEATS
Defensive Mobility
Level 1: Escape Artist
Level 1: Weapon Expertise (Bow)
ITEMS
Adventurer's Kit
Longbow x1
Dagger
Leather Armor x1
====== End ======
Background:
But he was fooled, and the ship turned him into one of the more "noble" principalities, he was left to rot in the prison, his time in prison was unkind, he made enemies out of the guards and fellow prisoners. Managing to infuriate one guard enough one day to bring him into his cell, he murdered his captor and ran for it. Finding himself on the run, he stole some goods from the keeps armory and made his way to the docks, his only true home. He staid low until he could find employment, on the Crimson Wave. Looking to start his life anew, and get as far away from his former prison as possible, he looks forward to his journeys with this new crew.
Appearance:
Personality and Mannerisms:
I think that's a good spread to even up my chances, a pretty workable background, an a very "normal" type of character, which I hope will distinguish him alittle bit more than my other two.
Actual appearance:
I'm....I'm speechless...haven't even read the rest of the post and I love this character.
Hatin' on the frog. Frogs ain't never hurt no one.
Exactly? No offense meant though, just couldn't resist.
I agree, although I think it would have been even more awesome if Steven Seagull was a Kenku...
GM: Rusty Chains (DH Ongoing)
I had no idea that was even a thing.
Yeah, that's too bad you didn't guy, probably would have gotten you a spot.
I will say there is something potentially conspiring against you though: You *might* be getting an offer for another game shortly due to your... geographical location. It might even be related to me! How I know this? It's a mystery
Aristotle, Elf Wizard Noble: I like the background here and the build as wizards make a really solid controller. I have to admit that I haven't seen any non-mages in a while now, so good to see another implement master wizard.
Steven Seagull, Ranger Outlaw: From a meta point of view, that is plain hilarious but it does work background and build wise as well. I will have to ponder that one!
I'll do anything
anything
GM: Rusty Chains (DH Ongoing)
Background:
You see, Mattias grew up as a fishmonger's son. The youngest of three boys, he grew up in the water. He learned to swim long before he learned to walk, and he learned to fish before he learned to fight (but not by much, some of those Aerenal eels are ornery!). It was quickly discovered that Melora favored him as a fisherman, for his net seemed to always be full of fish. He loved it. Being in the water, the thrill of finding bigger and more elusive fish, there was nothing like it. But there just wasn't enough variety. He had caught every kind of fish within miles of Foamgather, and he wanted to catch every kind of fish on the planet! It had been some time since the Sahuagin attacks, and even though he was valued as a warrior, his father understood his wanderlust. Putting aside his own feelings, he gave Mattias his blessing to set forth and fulfill his destiny - to be the most famous fisherman in all of Eberron!
It wasn't until a few months after leaving home that Mattias realized he wasn't quite...normal. He could hear the call of the ocean's spirits. He wasn't entirely sure what any of this meant, but he knew it granted him some rather unique abilities. He was able to call upon some of these spirits to aid him in his fishing, and that was all he really cared about. He could also call upon them if he needed to defend himself, but that wasn't a thing he had much need for, as he never really had to defend himself from fish...but he was hoping he'd have to!
His journeys have taken him from Kraken Bay (very inappropriately named, as he never once saw a kraken to catch!) to Regalport, where he quickly found a like-minded group of people he found easy to consort with - pirates! They did what they wanted and how they wanted, and they were amazed at how good at catching and cooking fish he was! He fit right in!
Appearance:
Mannerisms:
Miscellaneous info:
The only primal spirit I feel Mattias has a connection to is the World Serpent, and he views it as the King Kong of fish. He knows it is a fish he cannot catch, and hopes to become useful to it, so as to use its knowledge to catch all the other fish!
If there was a way, I'd like to give him some sort of negative value to certain skills on land but a bonus while at sea, but the game mechanics aren't super amazing that way. I do consider his land-based creature knowledge checks to be essentially nothing, barring humanoids.
"Huggy bear"
Stat Summary
Bugbear, Fighter
Build: Brawling Fighter
Fighter: Combat Agility
Fighter Talents: Brawler Style
Background: Lhazaar Principalities, Deserter, Occupation - Thief (Stealth class skill)
Theme: Mercenary
FINAL ABILITY SCORES
Str 19, Con 14, Dex 16, Int 10, Wis 10, Cha 8.
STARTING ABILITY SCORES
Str 17, Con 14, Dex 14, Int 10, Wis 10, Cha 8.
AC: 17 Fort: 18 Reflex: 13 Will: 10
HP: 29 Surges: 11 Surge Value: 7
TRAINED SKILLS
Stealth +9, Endurance +6, Athletics +8
UNTRAINED SKILLS
Acrobatics +2, Arcana, Bluff -1, Diplomacy -1, Dungeoneering, Heal, History, Insight, Intimidate +1, Nature, Perception, Religion, Streetwise -1, Thievery +2
FEATS
Level 1: Inescapable Hold
POWERS
Fighter at-will 1: Grappling Strike
Fighter at-will 1: Slash and Pummel
Fighter encounter 1: Bash and Pinion
Fighter daily 1: Seize and Stab
ITEMS
Trident, Hide Armor, Repeating crossbow, Adventurer's Kit, Crossbow Bolts (40)
History
As the winds of war change, however, so too do trade routes, and before long nearly all traffic on the roads ceased. Varog's supply of marks had vanished, and soon the small clan found itself in a dangerous spot between clashing armies. Rumors soon began to circle of an opportunity for gold-- a mercenary corps. run by House Tharask was recruiting gnolls, ogres, goblins, and a host of other humanoid monsters to fill ranks. Finding their native wilds less hospitable than ever, and his desire for new wealth wholly intact, Varog enlisted his clan with the Liondrake's Roar mercenaries. No longer complacent to wait for opportunity to come to him, Vorag sought to seize fortune with his own hands.
Varog's time with the troop was relatively brief. It became apparent to him in short order that he and his monstrous comrades were being used as expendable front line fodder. Though he was short tempered, driven by gluttony and savage impulses, Varog was no fool, and considered his situation shrewdly. After a particularly disastrous tactical blunder on the part of a commanding officer, nearly all of Varog's former clan was slaughtered in an ambush, and it seemed Varog could tolerate no more. Under cover of night, Varog deserted his post, and shortly afterward absconded into the wilds carrying a pack bulging with a potpourri of various officers' personal possessions.
Fleeing as far as possible from the war, Varog eventually found himself in the Lazhaar Principalities, where, as it turns out, many would have use for the talents of a Bugbear with flexible morality and a taste for coin. Varog's greed led him inexorably to the seedier underbelly of the cities he stayed in, and the employ of criminals, though he made no qualms about doing honest work if it paid exceptionally well. Privateer, burglar, hired goon-- Varog was paid almost as frequently for his fearsome physical presence as he was for his aptitude with crushing tracheas and, surprisingly, his natural prowess in stealth. Though he was once again a sword for hire, Varog would have no more to do with armies, and generally did his best to refuse suicide missions.
Unless, of course, the price was right.
Personality and Appearance
Though he despises incompetence and bureaucracy, Varog is accustomed to the dynamics of working with a tribe or clan, and is willing to bow to a leader whose cunning or ferocity commands respect. That, or snap someone in half and take the lead himself. Allies who Varog can truly trust to cover his back are rare enough that he can be unexpectedly loyal and amicable to such individuals. He perversely considers them to be a kind of "treasure" in their own right, and worthy of "collecting".
Varog does not much relish violence and savagery for its own sake, but has developed a kind of narcotic, pavlovian association with it, since in his line of work it usually precedes the acquisition of loot. This is to say, a casual observer might be understandably mistaken when they say Varog is a "bloodthirsty beast" and that they have seen him "cackling maniacally while strangling two men at once with one hand".
Physically, Varog is built stout like the stuff of mountains and trees. He stands a little over seven feet tall and nearly three hundred pounds. His stiff, bristling brown body hair peeks out from the gaps in his armor, and reveals rippling sinewy limbs in places with less hair coverage. Varog's midsection seems decidedly paunchy, but feels like stone to the touch. His face settles into an uneven, almost smug seeming smirk when at rest, with a few snaggly fangs protruding from his mouth at all times. Varog's clawed, meaty hands are large enough to fully encapsulate a human head in their grasp, which is a configuration they have taken on a number of times in the past.
Varog is usually seen sporting a lightweight armor constructed from various layered hides, and a trident, a tool which he grew fond of during his time in Lhazhaar for its versatility in combat and ubiquity within seaside locales.
Mechanics/Strategy
~ I have actually played very little 4th edition, have limited access to rulebooks/supplements, and as such appreciate advice on builds and rules!~
I would also wish to note clearly I am not currently involved with any D&D games in any context
Uncheck 'recommended weapons' for the online CB, or check 'show all weapons' for the offline version. You can use anything marked 'large' to increase its damage die by one size.
In short, you turn your trident into d10 at no cost to yourself. This bullshittery also lets you take a certain ED that lets you use weapons as if you were 1 size larger, and a Bugbear with that ED can use a Mordenkrad...in one hand. Get some.
Doesn't really matter I had a LOT of fun writing his backstory.
Mattias Saltbreeze: I am really tempted to take a Seeker on the whole "sticking it to Wizards" aspect alone. I like the background and concept as well. If you wanted to add in something about a Kraken, I can tell you that there is such a creature in the Lhazaar principalities - at least according to those who have seen ships sunk by something in the distance on misty nights. Nobody has ever actually lived through an attack first hand though...
Varog: You are indeed correct in thinking that I don't really approve much of the bugbears oversized weapons. I do like the characters concept and background aside from that, but if I did take your character I would probably think of some other powers or features to replace oversized weapons. I really like the brawler fighter as a concept and I think (alongside the tempest fighter) is arguably one of the most "pirate" feeling of the defenders in DnD.
Picture:
Theme:
Appearance:
Mannerisms and Personality Traits:
Background:
During the last war, Edvar was serving much of the time on the ship "Shacklewake" in the principalities themselves, a smuggling ship for the highest bidder, though they often found themselves working for Karnath. He is in the principalities because he has been here since the age of 16, and though almost no people know that he is a member of House Lyrandar, some suspect. He is aboard the Crimson Wave in order to provide his usual ship's service, weather prediction.
I wasn't certain whether to put in certain elements of the background here, but I can take them out if necessary.
My question: how do the drow fit into Eberron? I'm a FR guy so my Eberron experience is limited, but I did play DDO for awhile and seem to recall drow being an option. Anyone have suggested reading on how the drow figure into the world?
Currently DMing: None
Characters
[5e] Dural Melairkyn - AC 18 | HP 40 | Melee +5/1d8+3 | Spell +4/DC 12
Edvar d'Lyrandar: I love the concept and the background there. Plus that sort of plot hook can have all kinds of interesting elements in it, especially with how House Lyrandar wants to move into the Lhazaar Principalities more.
Post #154 reserved as all hell. I'm writin'.
I am not playing any pbp games of any varietal.
Finished: "Hello..."
Some said that Bal came by his name as short for Balsa, as he was a rarely seen warforged made up almost entirely of a motley of woods; leaving him lighter than most of his brethren. Others say that his name's origin lies in the term Ballast, and hearkens to a time when everything... expendable aboard a ship upon which he served was thrown overboard in the middle of a raging storm to lighten the ship's load. Bal speaks little of his past, neither confirming these stories or discussing his role in the Last War.
A liberal minded observer would say that Bal drank the kool-aid with regards to Khorvaire's view of his species. He essentially sees warforged as the second class citizens many infer them to be. Bal will always defer to his biological counterparts in almost every way, and tends to address people with a heavier dose of formality and title than necessary. Without making a conscious choice, Bal will generally identify an "alpha" personality in a group setting and semi-attach himself to this person's will. He will certainly voice opinions and such (i.e. still a PC) but he will also follow this person's orders to a T and - if they can inspire his loyalty - to his own death as well.
In Bal's life, the sole exception to his natural deference was when he captain'd his own ship. Captain Bal was an iron fisted commander who brooked no argument from sailor or serpent, sea or sky. He was a terrible fisherman, a terrible businessman, and a terrible foe.
"The fish ain't worth it, buccaneer!" roared the wooden man across the foaming chop. "Sail off while you can, and best pray the Devourer save you the day I run your flag up my mast!"
***
"You... you're Captain Bal!"
"It's... just Bal now, if it please you, m'lady."
"They still tell stories o' you at some of the tavern hearths for miles around here. You were the hardest trawler on this bit o' coast for years."
"A captain's got to be a man, whatever he's made of. And I ain't a captain, not no more. M'lady."
"I'm a waitress."
Faith
History
The water was his only refuge, a place of relative safety. He walked the shore and the shallows - often trudging with the surface well over his head - and stole inland at night to find tools and materials for repair. Slowly he made his way north to the mouth of the sea, and took work on a ship doing the only job he could - serving as a sentinel.
Eventually, Bal came into his own small vessel and turned fisherman for a number of years. His greatest assets to his own business were that 1) he did not require to eat, and thus could not truly fail and 2) he could hunt the depths with spear and net, bringing in some more rare and valuable species of fish most others could not reach. This made up for his otherwise poor acumen in business and trawling. He was wealthy by no means, but for a time Bal was truly happy.
Bal would also occasionally scavenge trinkets from sunken shoals - but never too deep, and never too far from the coasts... Bal was no fool.
Last year, a ferocious storm [DM alternate option: stolen?] has taken down his beloved ship. Bal has turned back to his old life, the life of servitude and soldiery that his makers had meant him to lead, in hope of securing enough gold to purchase a new ship and returning to his life of freedom.
Just enough for a new ship, that's all, Bal swore. The Devourer gives an' the Devourer takes. Takes, mostly. But not this time. I'll earn this one fair. I'll sail off. I'll earn this one fair an' he'll have no claim to 'er.
Physical Description
Character Sheet
Equipment Folded into character sheet; left notes here that were still relevant.
a pair of 2liter brass tanks (built onto back - air to control depth vs his weight, also propels nets)
a trident which Bal identifies with his fishing life, and another martial weapon which Bal identifies with his soldier'ing life. (Warhammer)
Last Thing
Background:
Pock decided that if he could make pretty colors, he could find others that could as well. Then they could all try to make the best ones possible. Not a dumb gnome, but certainly not the wisest. After all, when they finally kicked him out he was inside the cotton barn trying to make the ice ball he had conjured up melt. By shooting lit matches at it with his mind. Since then, Pock's been moving from town to town trying to do odd jobs and not get kicked out for accidentally freezing a well. When the war started, Pock was washing dishes in a small town around the center of Khorvaire.
A few wounded troops from a mercenary band had come into town and started threatening the nice woman that owned the tavern. When Pock tried to be friendly to the men and calm them down, they resorted to violence against Pock and the woman. In his successful efforts to defeat the men, Pock unfortunately also defeated the tavern. His profuse apologies did not soothe the grief of the woman, so Pock moved on. In his travels he discovered a few places willing to train him in his magical abilities, to unlock more potential and hopefully more control, but all required sums too large for his dishwasher salaries. So Pock continued on and ended up in the Lhazaar Principalities.
Here, he searched for odd jobs but eventually found one aboard the Crimson Wave as a cook. He had impressed the recruiter with his minor ability to conjure spice from thin air and light a fire for cooking with a snap of his fingers. Though he may have hidden a pouch of spices in his sleeve or two. He hopes the wages from the journey will make enough to gain entry into a magic school, or at least to meet interesting people on the way!
I am not playing any games anywhere, though I applied for the one recruiting here that needed a replacement. Dying to get into a game as no one in my town wants to play one! It's been a while since I've made a character but I work in front of a computer and have alllll day to post. And i'm not a DM now, but I've tried to DM stuff in the past! I think I setup Pock correctly, please let me know if I did something wrong and I'll go fix it.
edit: Oh, and theme! Theme would be Explorer. Or maybe Wizard's Apprentice, but given he's not actually one of those but only aspiring, Explorer makes more sense.
Crunch
Build: Tempest Fighter
Fighter Option: Combat Agility
Fighter Talents Option: Tempest Technique
Elemental Manifestation Option: Watersoul
Lhazaar Principalities (Thievery class skill)
FINAL ABILITY SCORES
STR 18, CON 12, DEX 16, INT 10, WIS 12, CHA 10
STARTING ABILITY SCORES
STR 16, CON 12, DEX 16, INT 8, WIS 12, CHA 10
AC: 17 Fort: 16 Ref: 14 Will: 11
HP: 27 Surges: 10 Surge Value: 6
TRAINED SKILLS
Athletics +8, Endurance +7, Thievery +7
UNTRAINED SKILLS
Acrobatics +2, Arcana +0, Bluff +0, Diplomacy +0, Dungeoneering +1, Heal +1, History +0, Insight +1, Intimidate +0, Nature +3, Perception +1, Religion +0, Stealth +2, Streetwise +0
POWERS
Basic Attack: Melee Basic Attack
Basic Attack: Ranged Basic Attack
Genasi Racial Power: Swiftcurrent
Fighter Attack: Combat Challenge
Combat Agility Power: Combat Agility
Fighter Attack 1: Dual Strike
Fighter Attack 1: Cleave
Fighter Attack 1: Distracting Spate
Fighter Attack 1: Driving Attack
FEATS
Two-Weapon Defense
Level 1: Light Blade Expertise
ITEMS
Adventurer's Kit
Short sword x2
Hide Armor x1
====== End ======
Background
Theme
I am currently DMing two tabletop games (one Dark Heresy and one PoL D&D), and playing in none.
Mareak Daleborn, Human Outlaw Druid
Background:
When the time came for him, at 18, to participate in his mandatory military service, he eagerly took the chance to get away from the work and toil on the farm. Though he saw terrifying sights in the warfare, it was a grand adventure for a poor farmer's boy, and at the end of his two years, he attempted to get his service extended, but to no avail; his country needed him more on the fields of his farm than the fields of battle.
He resented every day he had to spend on the farm. An ambitious desire had been awakened in him, one that would not be satisfied with pedantic farm work. And when the war finally ended, he thought his chance at adventure had been cut off forever, that he would spend his days working the farm.
The forest whispered to him that it wasn't true.
He wasn't sure he had heard it at first. It was a twitch at the back of his mind, nothing verbal. But in the days and weeks after he first heard The Voice, it grew. It grew from a whisper to a call, a note to a song. His father started looking at him worriedly, warning him to stay out of the forest. It had been something he had heard since childhood. He had fought in a war, he could handle a few wild animals. He didn't have to listen to that tired old fool. So he snuck out one night, into the forest, to discover the source of The Voice. Following what appeared to be the source of the sound, Mareak found himself delving deeper and deeper into the forest, and noticed a headache beginning to form. As the night got later and later, he went deeper and deeper, and his headache got worse and worse.
When he finally thought he couldn't take it anymore and decided to turn back, he came across a clearing. A massive, glowing shape sat in the middle, pulsing quietly. Mareak slowly approached it, reached out a hand, and was struck with a sudden pain in his head, and blacked out.
When he awoke, he was lying in his bed at his father's farmhouse. He beheld the sight of his father, eyes cast downward, and his younger sister looking worriedly into the room. Downstairs he could hear his mother working in the kitchen. His father raised his head.
"What happened out there, boy?" Mareak looked down, realizing the depths of his stupidity. "I'm sorry, dad. I saw a troll, and I, I..." his voice trailed off. How could he have been so stupid? His father shook his head. "I'm not talking about your little adventure. I, uh...look, boy," Mareak noticed he was wringing his hat in his hands, "did you, er, touch a glowing crystal? I know it sounds silly, but just answer the question." Mareak wracked his brain, but couldn't remember a thing about what had happened the last night. He had snuck out, then...he shook his head. It hurt too much to think so hard. "Well, your arm. Healer says the only explination for it is that you've, uh, you found the Madstone." "My arm? Is it broken or something?" His father sighed. "Maybe you should take a look, son." Mareak looked down, pulling his arm from under the covers. It was covered in a tightly wound bandage. "Go ahead, wind the bandage off." He moved his good hand to the end of the bandage, unwinding it from his arm. His apparently completely normal arm. "What's wrong, dad? It looks normal to me." He wiggled his fingers. "Yeah, it's fine." His father's face showed an odd combination of relief and worry. "It, well, your arm I mean, it was...uh, different than that, when we found you." Mareak started getting a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach. "What do you mean, dad?"
His arm suddenly twitched. And then burst into a cloud of insects.
When his arm changed back and he stopped screaming, his father stood up. "I'm sorry, son, but the healer said there's...there's nothing he can do for you. He sent for some scholars, people who are versed in primal lore. There's hope that they might find a, a cure." He stood in the doorframe and looked back. "Get some rest, now."
Mareak spent the rest of the evening staring fearfully at his arm, a watch that was not helped by the revelation that his other arm was capable of the same feat. After wrapping both arms, and soon after, legs, in spare bandages, Mareak hoped he had reigned in this new power.
When his entire body became a swarm of locusts, those listening outside his room could hear a buzzing of insects that sounded remarkably like a human scream.
After a week had passed, Mareak could take no more sitting around, waiting for the nebulous promise of a cure. He fled his home, taking a dagger and a paltry amount of gold. Having no other source of income, he began preying on travelers on the road from Irontown to Vulyar. Being a relative newcomer to the outlaw buisness, he found himself jailed more than a few times. When the threat of death became too close, he fled once again, this time to the Lhazaar Principalities. hoping that they would take a more lackadaisical approach to law enforcement, or the opportunity for a reformation. He made his goal the city of Regalport, and bought passage on a ship, the Crimson Wave, with most of his ill-gotten gains.
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NOTE: I designed this guy as a hybrid, but would be happy to thow out the swordmage hybrid and be a pure artificer, but didn't want to submit multiple characters in this way. As a hybrid he makes a decent 5th-man to a party, but he can't be the solo healer without being pure artificer. The character concept is similar either way.
Rune, Warforged Artificer|Swordmage
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