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Our brave party of adventurers lost a player while journeying through the Nine Hells and defeating Asmodeus to retrieve a piece of the sundered Tablets of Fate. So, we are looking to recruit one more player! Our current party is as follows: Wahad: Silenna - Druid (Controller) - Coiled Serpent - Sovereign Beast = Controller with a bit of a focus on melee and damage. Has a snake pet too. Doomykins: Gladys - Cleric (Leader) - Divine Oracle - Saint = Pacifist Cleric. Mortify: Arka - Ranger (Striker) - Battlefield Archer - Raven Knight = Archer Ranger. Klingon w Bowl Cut: Marcus - Bard (Leader) - War Chanter - Sage of Ages = Knowledge Bard. Not a taxi bard. Melchiresa: Merritt - Paladin (Defender) - Son of Mercy - Exalted Angel = Strength Paladin - Fairly heavy on damage. So based on current party comp, we're most likely looking for a Striker, but any (non leader!) apps will be considered! Character Creation: Starting Level: 24 Backgrounds: One Themes: Yes Inherent Bonuses: On Bonus Feats: * Melee Training * Improved Defenses * One Expertise Feat Starting Equipment: Standard level appropriate gear and gold: 425,000 gp and Magic Items: 1 Level 23, 1 Level 24, and 1 Level 25 Banned Races: Pixies Edit: Please tell me your legend so far in your app! Please try to work your epic destiny into this if you can! If you can't, just ping me and let me know you want to reskin with what you want to reskin to. -- I don't want you to be bound by your Epic Destiny by any means, but I'd like to see a mention at least. Also, if you're able to, please include a PDF of your character sheet with power cards. You can do this by viewing the character sheet in CBLoader and choosing to print it to PDF. Important links: Game Thread Original Recruitment Thread Please join the Discord Server! Edit: Final apps due by Look Around You fucked around with this message at 04:51 on Jun 9, 2018 |
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Jun 1, 2018 05:39
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Here is the text of the OP from the original recruit in case you do not have archives:OP posted:Your legend is written. Bards sing your praises, and scholars write books about you. You are widely renowned or reviled, a household name in most of Faerûn. Maybe you stopped an invasion from the Underdark, maybe you stopped the rebirth of a deity, maybe you saved a country from a plague, took down an evil empire, or stopped a vampire lord from enslaving a city. With those deeds behind you, and your story in place, you decided you were going to settle into wherever destiny took you.
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Jun 1, 2018 05:39
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Reapping Amalric Duskborn There was once upon a time, in a certain land, a man from a respected clan that was renowned for birthing many famous sailors, merchants and explorers. This man was called Amalric, a beloved captain who more than once went to uncharted waters, voyaging towards the unknown and adventuring to places few have ever went to before. Yet while his clan was indeed rich and respected, they still lacked any traces of nobility that were revered in that country. So Amalric was betrothed to a woman from one of the oldest families in the country, a woman called Helena, an alluring intellectual that was famous for her own arcane achievements. Despite being an arranged marriage, he still grew to love his wife, and they were indeed a perfect couple, soon blessed with twin daughters and several children after. Yet he still went on to sail towards new expeditions, unaware of what Helena did away from his eyes… For her research in the fields of magic was solely to fulfill the only obsession in her mind: Eternal life, and the youth and power that would come with it. For the next fifteen years rumors of defiled graves and disappeared young women started to spread alongside the lands, yet Amalric paid no mind to them until the tragic death of one of his eldest daughters while he was at the capital changed that. While it was claimed that she died in her sleep of a sudden fever, a lingering suspicion started to grow on Amalric’s mind, and he decided to finally act on it. After telling Helena that he was to leave for a trade mission on the North, Amalric hid within his mansion, waiting and watching for anything amiss. Soon, while looking on her personal library, he finally found something which would haunt him… An experimentation diary written by Helena, depicting her inhumane necromantic experiments with the local populace. To his horror, he found the following paragraph. quote:After several failures upon transplantation of souls, I found out that a close blood tie is needed for it to work. Unfortunately while I failed upon my attempt upon the eldest daughter, her younger twin might be a more receptive host. Driven mad with grief and rage, Amalric grabbed his sword and invaded the basement where the diary said the experimentations were made. As he knocked the door down, he found Helena with a grimoire in her hand and a dagger in another, and below her the unconscious yet still alive younger daughter, hands and feet restrained by reanimated skeleton limbs. Amalric leaped at his wife, trying to cleave her before she could conjure a spell against him, yet while he felt the weapon’s blow connect, a dark veil enveloped his eyes. He found himself in a pitch black void for what it seemed to be centuries, unable to move his body, speak or even think clearly until a voiced reached his ears. “You… You are an odd one indeed. Yet you are here, in my underworld.” The voice said. “My name is Kelemvor, God of Death. Not one of my predecessors neither myself have seen something like you before. A soul from another World, that has so much tenacity within, yet that tainted with necromantic magic. Yet you don’t seem to be a necromancer, do you?” A pause. “I… Can feel from your anger that this isn’t the case. Unfortunately it seems that whatever brought you here has tainted your soul enough that I cannot make a correct judgement of it, or even to let you stay. But perhaps we can find an agreement that might work for us both…?” His first mark, a Wizard-King that was a former disciple of the Archlich Szass Tam and a powerful Lich himself that went by the name of Rot-King Kublar. He ruled a vast stretch of land in Thay with an iron fist and a massive legion of undead troops that he collected as a "tithe" by his oppressed people, and yet his caution with expanding his dominion towards his neighbours made his deeds go unnoticed by most of his neighbors. But not by Amalric. Bursting inside the Rot-King's castle, cleaving his armored deathknights like a knife does to paper, freezing the very ectoplasm of the ghostly assassins and crushing his Vampire lieutenants to a fine paste, the armored revenant made his way to the Rot-King's quarters without minding the barrage of deathly spells being thrown towards him and casually dispatching the seemingly infinite undead on his path. The Rot-King, despairing at what took half a century of preparation being destroyed in a few minutes by the seemingly unstoppable intruder, offered Amalric whatever he wanted, asked him to become his second-in-command, or even to serve the Revenant himself. The only answer was "Can you take me home?" The Lich, stumped by this request, hesitated. It was all that took for the massive freezing axe to fall upon him, and the Kingdom of Rot was no more. It was by then that stories of a “Grim Reaper” have started to spread through all of Toril. About a massive armor-clad figure that hunted the undead and those who dabbled in evil necromancy. Of an axe made of pure ice that brought the final death to the defilers of life and enforced the natural cycle. Yet the man behind the legends still remembered his old home, his old family and of course if he failed or succeeded on saving them… And knew that if Kelemvor wouldn’t help him return, then perhaps a higher God could... Personality posted:While normally a grim and serious man, whose thoughts still wander towards his home plane, Amalric still maintains a fatherly disposition to those he cares about and is happy to share his wisdom to those who are with him. Plutonis fucked around with this message at 16:14 on Jun 3, 2018 |
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Jun 1, 2018 05:52
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Relic Of Justice Character Sheet This is not the first time the Gods have fallen, nor will it be the last. But some of them are capable of learning from their mistakes. Having avatars and clerics and paladins powered by faith is great, when the Gods are around. Long ago, after a period of upheaval, several gods met to find a way around this particular problem. Tyr himself called the meeting, but it was Moradin who suggested crafting a being that could fight on their behalf, untethered from divine power. Mystra wanted to tie it to a magical force, but Chauntea convinced the rest to tie it to the earth itself, so that as long as there was ground to walk on, it could function. Gond manned the forge, but everyone offered something. Not much, just a little, but selflessly. From the elves, Shevarash offered anger, Hanali offered beauty, and Sehanine restful dreams. From the gnomes, Gaerdal Ironhand offered earth and fire itself, and Flandal forged it into a burning heart, while Segojan gracefully prevented death from touching it, even a little. The halfling god Avoreen offered watchfulness, and Yondalla offered a spark of life itself. Tymora offered it a bit of luck, Sune detailed designs to animate the metal, and from Tempus the burning desire to fight. Helm gave him protection, Ilmater the endurance to prevail when that protection failed. A great and mighty golem was crafted. It awakened, was given instructions by all the gods, lessons to be learned and truths to follow. And then... it was forgotten, in a corner of the forge, watching, waiting for it's calling. This took a rather long time. The spirit stood, and watched. And waited. Several times he joined The Blood War to correct an imbalance, but that was not his place. During the Time Of Troubles, it was not his job to judge the gods or mortals, but he guarded the dark places, portals where demons and devils tried to spill forth. But mostly, he waited. Until now. Destroying minor demons was not what this Relic was made for. The Gods themselves may have forgotten this little side project, but Relic has awakened in full. Swift as lightning, and hard as Gond's anvil, he will be the unyielding force that crushes this "god" Asmodeus. Arming himself from the leftovers around the forge, Relic moved to join the fight. Relentless fucked around with this message at 06:41 on Jun 10, 2018 |
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Jun 1, 2018 16:48
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Holy crap, I'm so sorry guys, I apparently accidentally deleted the IC thread from my favorites. I totally thought the game had just died.
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Jun 1, 2018 18:25
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 Lin Sen Grith The Storm's Watching-Eye PDF Sheet This story begins long ago... A great god of thunder and battle called his host to war against a rising challenger, a creature from beyond the stars that had burrowed its way through the unseeable places beyond the furthest light of creation. A malevolence born from the far chaos attracted to the shining jewel of reality, which it and its befoul and besmirch. The thunder god's host fell upon the invaders with the wrath of a cyclone, and although they succeeded, it was not without cost. Many warriors had fallen, ensnared by the maddening, gibbering creatures and dragged to oblivion. In the final climactic struggle the Invader lashed out with its tendrils and struck the thunder god's cheek, leaving a scar that would last eternity... And sending a small, fading spark of Divinity spiraling through the planes. It was no accident that the spark fell into the Elemental Chaos, drawn to the lightning and storms of Sky Home, drawing them together into something new. A child of the elements, formed from the cooling ember of divine power into the form of a baby boy. His cries attracted a curious Djinn named Eden, who swaddled the child in cloud and took him in as an adoptive child. However as a djinn she had no concept of how to properly care for this mortal, material creature born of the storm, so she sought the help of a Githzerai monastery. In exchange for her help and protection, they agreed to help raise the child and bestowed upon him a name - Lin Sen Grith, the adopted cloud. He grew up as a genasi, with his mother Eden and the monks of the Silver Palm. He was taught the ways of the elements, how to fight, and the importance of calm even in the heart of a hurricane. Much to his adopted mother's delight though, he instead displayed natural attunement to controlling the elemental forces of wind, lightning and thunder (he takes after his mother, she would often say). However there came a day when he was an adult, and sought to venture forth on his own to make his own story on the material plane. He grew famous as a storm sorcerer without peer, stirring up the storm with a wave of the hand and bringing vengeful lightning down on the wicked. Most of his greatest triumphs are unsung by the dwellers of the surface, for his greatest and most persistent enemy are the Mind Flayers of the underdark. More than one Elder Brain has been smashed by resounding thunder deep beneath the world, while the lesser illithids fell to the silvered weapons of the Githzerai. His true moment of glory for the dwellers of the surface world was later, when he was adventuring along the Dragon Coast. He was travelling the coastal road toward Suzail, capital of Cormyr, when he saw a small clan of merfolk fleeing from the water with cobbled together magics and items of arcane power. They were being pursued by beings of madness that he had never encountered before, reminding him of nothing except for the strange mind-shattering experiments of the deepest illithid cities. Dispatching the small group of beasts was no trouble, but it soon became obvious that this was not an isolated incident - the good races of the sea were fleeing in all directions as something great and terrible stirred underneath the ocean. The coast was full of refugees, all bearing the same story - the floor of the Dragonmere was shifting, heralding the appearance of these nightmares made manifest. He had fought aberrations all his life, but this was something greater. His instincts told him, this was no mere monster. This was his enemy. Lin traveled to Suzail and appealed to the royal family for aid on behalf of the refugees. An alliance was formed between all the peoples of the Dragonmere, uniting to face this threat. It was the trade ships of Westgate that discovered the location of the awakening itself. The Monolith, an angular obsidian tower stood menacingly above the waves near the ruins of Starmantle, its impossible geometries distorting the world around it as multicolored light emanated from the deep. It was calling to something that had been slumbering, healing, dreaming in a tomb of stone and water. The location could not have been coincidental - Starmantle itself was a twisted mass of cyclopean architecture and eldritch secrets that were better lost to time. It was determined that the creature would seek out these ruins and the powers within and so stopping it was paramount. Approaching by ship was impossible, so the host of Cormyr marched with him around the length of the Sword Coast to make their stand. It was a nameless beach a short distance from the remains of Starmantle. The proud and loyal Purple Dragons held their banners high in their serried ranks, ready to receive the enemy with arrow, spear and blade. Behind them the assembled host of the War Wizards, gathering the powers arcane to blast aside whatever stood before them. Scattered among them other denizens and heroes of the Dragon Coast, called together to protect their homes from this threat. And there also stood a young genasi sorcerer of some renown, a powerful mage and influential speaker, but by no means the greatest of heroes that had walked onto the field of battle that day. The battle began suddenly, as though a chord in tension snapped. Where once there was thrashing waves of the Dragon Coast, in the blink of an eye there were hordes of malformed things, twisted reflections of real creatures swarming up the beach. The dragon knights held their lines, the war wizards rained death and devastation across the field of battle. A sorcerer of the storm called bolt upon bolt from the sky, but the tide of creatures seemed endless. From beneath the monolith the water began to bulge upward, as a great body roused itself to action. Wizard, sorcerer and cleric alike tried to pierce the sea to attack the mother creature beneath, to no avail. It became clear that the mother-creature was beyond the power of mortal interference. No matter how many they slew, more creatures came. The knights grew tired and began to fall and be pushed back, the wizards were struck down by poisonous spines and abhorrent magics. The rising Invader gathered the ocean to itself, a sloshing orb of seawater and power that offered tiny glimpses of the true threat laid bare. When he first saw the creature itself, he thought his mind might shatter, his sanity crumpling into howling madness. Instead, a spark that had lain dormant flared to life. The tiniest fraction of the Storm God's power surged to life in the face of the great enemy and Lin knew what he had to do. Storm clouds gathered from every direction. The sky roiled with fury and there seemed to be silhouettes illuminated in the clouds of battles long past. It was a storm unlike any other, a hurricane forming over land with Lin standing serenely at the eye of the storm, watching as sheets of lightning cut through the insane beasts and peals of thunder cast them aside as though they were children's toys. His arms lifted, motioned, spinning, weaving and conducting the typhoon raging all around as he too rose into the sky. To the north the sky grew clear and the ocean calmed. To the south the trees and people were buffeted by a cyclone that seemed to only grow stronger with every minute. Then with a flick of the wrist, Lin set the storm on its path. For the first time, a hurricane pushed back the sea. The wind buffeted the water and left soggy sand bare to the sky, and creatures that had sought to hide in the depths were set upon by spiraling whirlwinds and twisting, snaking thunderbolts that seared the sand molten. The other heroes and warriors rallied and charged with the storm, breaking the assault and driving back the spawn until finally the waters parted and showed the true, featureless face of the Invader itself. Uncloaked from its protective shell of water the warriors of good fell upon it with all their fury until finally its carapace cracked and the creature recoiled in pain and confusion. But it didn't fall, its wounds binding together as quickly as they could be inflicted. The storm found another target. It has been said that lightning strikes the tallest object first - and so it was the Monolith that was subjected to the fury of the lightning. Over and over, bolts of white, blue and purple scoured its featureless surface. Twisting whirlwinds battered against it. Hailstones the size of boulders fell from the heavens, but above all the lightning struck over and over again until finally the monolith buckled and shattered. A terrible wave of force eminated for miles in every direction, a gust of wind that knocked many off their feet and light that blinded all that looked directly at it. The obsidian tower fell, piercing the Invader and battering it with blunt force and the uncontrolled energies of the pillar's destruction. A calm quiet fell over the battlefield. Just as suddenly as it had formed, the storm abated. Water rushed back in where the wind had held it at bay, sweeping away the corpses and remains. Vengeful merfolk plunged into the waters to viciously scour the sea for any remaining spawn, and to retrieve the bodies of honored dead. Moonlight shown through the dispersing clouds. A gentle ocean breeze made the trees sway. The beach itself had no special name, simply a long stretch of sand. But after that day it was known as Spider-Glass beach, for the countless glass statues formed by the strikes of lightning left buried in the aftermath. The survivors of the battle, the Purple Dragons and the War Wizards, offered to give Lin Sen Grith a triumph through Suzail, a hero for the ages. Those attuned to such things could feel the fires of divinity now awakened in his soul, a demigod among men. Instead he waved them off with a smile, falling back onto the beach with an exhausted sigh. Use the money and effort to repair whatever damages had been caused, he told them. He just wanted to lay there on the beach for a while, and after that, he was going to go home. Although he did not go to Suzail that day, his story did. And as weeks turned into months, and months into years, the legends of his actions jumped from city to city, from town to town, like playful lightning arcing between the clouds. After the Battle of Spider-Glass Beach there are few official instances of him appearing to lend aid on the surface. However all across the Dragon Coast there are stories of marauding monsters being struck down by errant bolts of lightning and freak tornadoes sweeping away warbands of gnolls, goblins and orcs. In many small villages and towns around the Dragonmere a custom has developed to hang a flask of ale beside the door during a thunderstorm. Sometimes the flasks disappear... ------------------------- End of Epilogue -------------------------- A hero's rest He'd taken the slow way up to the monastery, climbing up the spiraling staircase around the floating mountain suspended in the eternal clouds and breezes of Sky Home. A castle in the sky, an eternal sky. He rests a moment, taking a drink from his waterskin as he crouches down, smiling at the sight. It had been several years since his encounter with the aberration creature, and although he was ever a wanderer he tried to make time to come home. He is briefly tempted to jump off into the wind and ride it wherever it would lead. Memories of adventures, happy times and good friends bubble into his mind, but he shakes them away with a chuckle. It was not the time for such exuberance. As he walks he begins to hear the daily callers and the chanting of the Sibling-Monks of the Silver Palm. The tall minarets and multi-level pagodas built into, out of and up above the stone of the drifting mountain peak above the cliffs, and then one last corner and he is home. The domed monastery buildings, connecting the towers, the small walls and the flat farmlands out in front. There is a brief moment of quiet, until one of the small forms helping work the fields suddenly perks up and gives out a shout. "Brother Lin! Brother Lin!" He smiles at the sound, tipping up the brim of his travelling hat with a sly grin. He'd hardly made it around the bend, but somehow the children always seemed to know when he was near. "Where did you go!" "How long are you staying!" "Did you bring us anything?" A few of the older field workers scold the children for running off, but without heart. Instead they too stop their work to watch the spectacle. The children are mostly green-skinned githzerai, with large brown freckles scattered around their faces and oversized pointed ears. A few human children as well, and an elf - other adopted children of the monastery. He kneels down and greets them, ruffling hair and giving hugs. Eventually the children all seem to agree on something and start asking for him to lift them up. "Up! Up!" He stands and seems to ponder the question with exaggerated seriousness before a small grin peaks out and he exhales, lifting his arms up and conjuring a small whirlwind around each child. A chorus of delighted squeals and laughter as the children begin to swim and spin in the air, able to fly and explore but carefully constrained by his power. Then it is his turn to give out a started yelp as a whirlwind surrounds him and he is lifted into the air as well, spun around until he was hanging upside down, to the delight of the assembled children. As he is spun around he sees a tanned woman with elvan features, except for her glowing yellow eyes and flowing, billowing white hair resembling more a cloud than anything else. "Come now Lin, don't look so sour. You used to laugh and smile too when I held you up like this." Lin crosses his arms, attempting to look serious and dignified as he is lowered, upside down until he was eye to eye with the woman, "Well I'm not a child anymore mother." "Clearly. I've told you repeatedly to shave, you look more like a wild-man than a civilized person." "Oh I don't know, you're always hounding me about starting a family," he says, stroking the somewhat scraggly and unkempt beard, "Back on the material plane the young maidens find beards quite fetching." "The ones that don't mistake you for a bugbear, I'm sure." A moment of silence, the children giggling at the exchange. Eventually the tension breaks and Lin and Eden both begin to laugh as well, setting everyone back to the earth in their proper place. Lin goes in and embraces his mother with a contented sigh, as the children are called back to work. "I didn't mean to be gone this long. It's just-" "Silly boy. Time doesn't mean anything to me," her grip tightens slightly, a moment of hesitation, "I would appreciate it if you sent word though. I know that I shouldn't worry, but I do." They step back and Lin finds a stone to sit down on. His mother doesn't sit, but simply lifts her legs up and floats with a smile. News would work its way into the monastery proper soon. He stared at the small colony in the elemental chaos he had called home, watching the clouds beyond the mountain. Then there is a subtle snap, a crackling in the air. He furrows his brow, small arcs of electricity flitting around his body, coalescing into a blue viper which hissed into his ear, "I know Ouro, but I don't see-" "Lin?" He turns toward his mother, then saw her worried expression and pointing hand. He turned to the edge of the rocky platform, hands instinctively going to his daggers. His mind starts to work into overdrive. Githyanki? Mind Flayers? His mind races with the enemies of the monks and could reach them here in the elemental chaos. What he didn't expect was a pair of paladins escorting a wizened old man. Lin frowns, standing up and twirling one of his daggers absently, "Forgive me mother. I think I might be leaving sooner than I expected." ---------------------------- Physical Description: When at rest Lin appears to be a tanned humanoid figure with primarily elven features, although when pressed he has no real idea why. Some assume that his appearance is inherited from his "mother," but in fact the opposite is true - the djinn Eden modeled her physical form to match her growing adoptive son. His hair wild, although he does attempt to keep his beard and mustache in some semblance of order. His eyes are a bright, nearly luminescent blue, and he has what appear to be ritual or religious tattoos covering most of his body up to his neck. He has a wiry, nimble frame that stands around 6'1'', although his lanky build and tendency to hover rather than stand in any place makes him seem taller than he actually is. When angered or tapping into his sorcerous power the tattoos reveal that they are in fact windows into the turbulent soul beneath, glowing and crackling with arcs of electricity. His eyes glow with bright, irregular flashes like lightning and his voice adopts a crackling, static quality. On his forehead there appears a smooth, oval stone embedded over his "third eye" chakra, glowing with the Gith symbol for Will. On his chest just below his neck is another similar stone embedded over his "heart" chakra, glowing with the symbol for Thunder. A popular game among the children of Cormyr and the Dragon Coast is to watch the sky on cloudy days, picking out shapes and trying spot Lin's flying ship, a junk from the elemental chaos built as a gift by the Githzerai and his primary form of travel between the planes and whenever long distances need to be covered. professor_curly fucked around with this message at 17:35 on Jun 5, 2018 |
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Jun 1, 2018 20:03
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Sockerbagarn fucked around with this message at 11:06 on Jun 12, 2018 |
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Jun 2, 2018 01:55
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Thanatosian posted:Holy crap, I'm so sorry guys, I apparently accidentally deleted the IC thread from my favorites. I totally thought the game had just died. Re-app and fight for the spot?
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Jun 2, 2018 04:58
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 Sevit Axalethris, Duchess of Kethendi, Admiral of the Adamant Fleet, Breaker of Ulash-Nar Cosmic Sorcerer, Demonskin Adept, Keybearer (PDF) (Orokos) They say a sailor's tale grows taller with each telling. That may be so, but an elaboration is not a lie, and I promise no event I'll speak about is fiction. If you have the time, why not sit a while and listen to an old sea dog's story of the greatest of us I've known? ---- There was once a dauntless liberator, a sorcerer wielding the might of above and below who had come to be called 'hero' on many planes. Though she had risen to the title of Duchess in her home country, she was a sailor at heart, and she felt the call of the Astral Sea. She had always trusted the cosmos to guide her before, searching for any signs of trouble she could solve. Now, it pulled her toward that most vast ocean, that immeasurable channel that flowed between the domains of the gods themselves. As she searched for where she could do the most good, the cosmos revealed to her a point on the outer edges of Bahamut's realm, Celestia. With a promise to her seneschal that she'd soon return, she traveled to the nearest teleportation circle, inscribing the Outer Celestian circle sequence as taught to her by the High Priest of Bahamut. She found herself, despite the unmatched splendour of the astral realm, in familiar environs. A bustling port, where a dragonborn fleet was preparing to launch into the sea beyond. As soon as they heard her name, the fleet gave the hero a ship, welcoming her with open arms into their fold. They were embroiled deep in a war with one of the most dreaded beings in the cosmos: an ancient dracolich. It and its bloodthirsty githyanki fleet had been terrorizing the environs of Celestia for some time, intent on striking the heart of Good itself. The hero eagerly joined the fight, for to serve in the Adamant Fleet of Bahamut was the greatest honour either a sailor or a dragonborn could imagine. While the next few skirmishes landed in the Adamant Fleet's favour, the dracolich's forces were not so quickly routed. In transit from a skirmish back to Celestia, the fleet was ambushed by a pair of githyanki frigates led by the dracolich itself. The fleet was still coming around to face the dracolich when the evil creature struck the flagship directly. The rest of the fleet readied their weapons and fired on the dracolich, driving it off, but the two frigates struck the final blow. The flagship was torn asunder, the admiral dead. The Adamant Fleet returned home. A new flagship was commissioned - that was no trouble - but it would take time. Despite their loss, the fleet needed an immediate plan. The hero had an idea. The dracolich, too, was injured in the fight. If they could find the dracolich's lair, they could teleport to a realm behind it and launch a sneak attack while the githyanki were busy prowling the Celestian sea. The hero's mastery of the cosmos was nearing the point where she could fold them around herself, walking as she wished throughout the planar sphere, and she believed she could use it to send a small ship or two to the vicinity of another teleportation circle. The other captains agreed, nominating the hero as the new admiral. Scouts were sent out, and soon they reported to have found the lair, on a drifting rock in the vicinity of the Supreme Throne. It was time. The hero ordered two cutters to be crewed with the fleet's best fighters and made ready to launch. She sat on the bow of one of the ships, meditating in preparation. Drawing in the experiences, the memories of all the planes she had visited, she reached through thoughts of their forms, through their characteristics as separate entities, through to the energy, the churning ocean of the universe that underlaid them all. She reached through to the fabric of reality itself, and pulled. When she opened her eyes, the fleet was at the Supreme Throne. The crew shouting in anticipation, they made for the dracolich's lair as soon as possible. Within little time, they were on it. The warriors of the Adamant Fleet leapt at the dracolich with swords, slung spells, shouted radiant prayers. The hero wielded her magic as well: the magic of the sun, the stars, the moon, of the Elemental Chaos, the Abyss, of Celestia. The dracolich fought back with the accumulated centuries of power, foul magics and the unyielding resilience of undeath. Both sides fought with the ferocity, cunning and might that have shaped the legacy of dragonkind, but in the end, the hero and her crew stood triumphant. The dracolich had fallen. The githyanki fleet was scattered soon after, and Celestia would know peace for a good while after. ---- Ah, but you want to know of her planar travels. The day would greet us if I told them all, but if you get me another beer, I'll recount the one I know the best. There was once a ship's captain, a soldier of fortune and a mystic who spoke the tongue of the stars. She'd made her name on the Sea of Fallen Stars doing battle with monsters, crossing spells with genasi corsairs, once even diving below the waves to retrieve a lost relic of Myth Nantar. One night, she stood on her balcony, searching the night sky. She'd learned which stars corresponded to which planes, and as she scanned the starry night, she noticed something direly out of place. One of the stars of the Elemental Plane of water, one that normally shone brightly as a sailor's guiding light, now flickered dimly, barely visible in the sky. Alarmed, she began to search the cosmos' flow, looking for any forces acting on it. What she found was an abyssal current, buffeting and smothering the star. She found that star's centre of primal influence - a point deep in the Gulf of Lurien - and rushed there as fast as the waters could carry her. The captain found easily found the point - even from the surface, she could feel it. She bid her crew farewell and dove into the water, swimming deeper and deeper until she found a whirling eddy beneath the sea. Determined, she kept swimming, and the eddy sucked her in. She found herself transported to the Elemental Plane of Water, lying in a water lord's grotto. Taking a moment to get her bearings, it struck her how empty the place was - and given how wet the rocks under her was, how little water was around her. She dashed outside of the cave to find her answer. An enormous Abyssal being hung in the sky, a horrible spheroid monster with eyes and teeth beyond number. It was called Ulash-Nar; a dreadnought of a creature made to consume vast quantities of energy and bring it back to its lord, who could then absorb the energy to become powerful beyond measure. Water dripped slowly from its many mouths. As the captain watched, a surge of water would now and again try to escape, but the mouth always snapped shut just in time. She fired a cosmic bolt at the monster, but for all the good it did, she may as well have fired it into the sun. Alarmed and afraid, she rushed off to find other elementals and beseech their aid. The captain ran throughout the plane, fighting demonic soldiers everywhere she went. She came first to an elemental palace, fortified with razor spears of ice, that the demonic soldiers had not dared approach. The Lady of Ice granted her a boon, a deadly spell to freeze the demonic hordes in their place, but offered no further aid. Next, she came to a yawning chasm, at the bottom of which dwelled a Lord of Steam. The lord granted her a second boon, a spell of heat to burn the demons where they stood, and granted her a contingent of steam-elemental soldiers. The captain traveled further throughout the plane, rallying elementals to follow her in their bretheren's defense, until she was marching on Ulash-Nar with a small army. With a cry from the captain, the elementals rushed into battle against the gathered horde, freezing, drowning and roasting the Abyssal invaders. The captain herself was the first to turn her attention to Ulash-Nar itself. She slung spell after spell, unleashing her newly strengthened powers on the immense creature, but to little effect. The elementals surrounded Ulash-Nar, striking it with all their might, but as many were being devoured as were inflicting any damage on its craggy hide. Sensing a losing battle, the captain reached out to the cosmos for an idea of what to do next. She tapped into the energy swirling around her, feeling its ebb and flow, and it hit her. All the cosmos were connected, from the Astral Sea right down to the Abyss. And if the Abyss was closing around the Elemental Plane of Water, it was the Abyss that would have to pull itself back. The captain reached down into herself, searching for the bit of the Abyss that dwelled there. She searched for rage, for anguish, for destructive glee. Those were not feelings she was used to, but find them she did. And with a fearsome roar that would have made her Arkhosian ancestors tremble, she let loose raw Abyssal magic, blast after blast, on Ulash-Nar. It lanced through the creature's hide and made it crumble away like a festering wound. Again she blasted, and again, until there was room enough for all the elemental water trapped inside the demon to come forcefully gushing out. The day won, the captain collapsed in a heap, exhausted from her first brush with Abyssal abandon. She became celebrated as a hero on the Elemental Plane of Water, and would become known far and wide as the one who destroyed Ulash-Nar. The water elemental lord, for his part, was restored, and his star shone brightly once again in the primal sky. ---- Don't want to leave off on demonic power? I don't blame you. It's a terrifying thing, and you'll live a good life if you never feel it in person. Don't worry, I promise it didn't corrupt her. She's as gregarious now as she ever was. I have another tale in mind, though. This one has a hopeful ending, cross my heart. There was once a girl who loved to watch the stars. She would stay up every night and watch as they moved across the sky. Her father would come with her sometimes, and he would tell her things like the names of the constellations, what time of year they were brightest, and old Arkhosian legends about what they signified. While she loved these stories, the girl could see more in the stars than names and legends. She could see life. She could see the universe's energy flowing through them, gracefully soaring and tumbling in infinity. As the nights passed, however, she began to see ripples in the flow, spots of menace that hinted at something darker underneath, like dangerous reefs threatening to dash an approaching ship. She resolved to learn more. Years passed. The girl grew. Her father, the Duke of the Tymanther city where they lived, taught her arts befitting nobility and skills vital to their culture, but the one she took to most was sailing. Entering the Tymanther navy as an officer, she quickly distinguished herself as an exceptional navigator. If the stars were a sailor's roadmap, hers was covered in marginalia that spoke of hidden paths, secret ways that no one else could see. The cosmos told her other things besides. One night, while meditating under the stars, feeling the ebb and flow of the universe's energies around her, she felt a strong current of violence surging around her, rising from the deeps. She leapt to her feet, rousing first the captain, then the rest of the crew. They begrudgingly clambered out of their beds and trudged onto the deck with weapons in hand, just in time for a sahuagin ambush. The sahuagin leapt onto the deck, spears in hand, but had come expecting to catch the crew sleeping. Bravely, the dragonborn set upon their would-be ambushers, raining down blows with their blades and letting loose blasts of elemental breath. After a brief battle, the crew triumphed, and the girl was lauded for her life-saving vision. It wasn't long before she would be given her own ship and a crew to call her Captain. She resolved to sail the seas wherever the stars led her, eager for the adventure and glory that awaited. ----------------- What does this build do, anyway? Sevit is based around getting in the middle of a bunch of enemies and letting loose with close bursts and aura-like damage effects. She's also quite capable in terms of single-target damage, with a bunch of multi-attack powers that take advantage of big sorcerer damage bonuses. She has a couple ally-unfriendly attacks but War Wizardry should minimize any issues that may cause. Don't worry about all her ranged attacks, she doesn't provoke OAs. She's also a glorious hero who leads from the front and the mere sight of her with full HP or making a saving throw is enough to inspire her allies to greatness! (Hero's Poise, Champion's Countenance) Out of combat, she's thoroughly equipped to serve as the party's metaphorical wheels, having an astral skiff that folds up into her pocket and being able to cast Planar Portal or Linked Portal without components once per day as per the Keybearer epic destiny. Wol fucked around with this message at 10:21 on Jun 6, 2018 |
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Jun 2, 2018 11:54
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 Reach Heaven Through Violence, Palanlas Gidbin Airgedlam, Gen Twice-Returned, Elfblade of Zerthimon Orokos PDF Not a striker, but I couldn't think of any even halfway-decent backstories for striker classes. Deep in the Elemental Chaos, in the redoubt of Tauhr Leng, a long-awaited time of prophecy was at hand. The signs were in place for the next reincarnation of Zerthimon's second disciple, Gen, and the githzerai had labored for decades to prepare. Alas, it was not to be. In the very moment of the destined boy's birth, an elemental storm fell upon Tauhr Leng with utterly no warning and raged for a full year and a day. The newborn Gen was lost, and after the maelstrom abated, his people entered into silent penance. But unbeknownst to all he had not perished in the storm--he had been cast into the Prime Material as a fiery star and landed unharmed on the world of Toril, in the court of Nuada Airgedlam, a general and lord-in-exile of Myth Drannor. In the face of these strange portents, the eladrin lord took the baby in to be raised as a retainer, naming him Palanlas: the far-fallen leaf. Most of Nuada's high-elven subjects found the mortal Palanlas strange and unlovely, dubbing him "Gidbin," the stunted, but even from infancy he attended to all his lessons and duties with uncomplaining dedication, learning at a startling pace and eventually making himself indispensible in the general's household. As maturity drew closer, the memories of Gen began returning to him little by little, bringing with them a serene, unshakeable tranquility that was nevertheless as unnerving in its intensity as an archfey's direst anger. By the age of sixteen, Nuada had made Palanlas his majordomo and begun tutoring him in the way of the armathor, which no mortal before him had been permitted to study. Palanlas tempered the timeless sword-arts of Cormanthyr with the iron focus and endurance of a zerth, and in a few scant years Nuada deemed him ready to join the eternal watch on the demon-haunted City of Song. When the Gates of Argent were breached by hordelings of the Grey Waste, it was Nuada and Palanlas who held the line until the House of Teshurr could send reinforcements. When the daemonfey were driven at last from the Noonlit Court, it was Nuada and Palanlas who struck down their fell captains and cast their defense into disarray. Time and time again throughout the War of Songs Unsilenced, Palanlas Gidbin and Nuada Airgedlam proved themselves an unstoppable force--and the former was counted foremost in their deeds just as often as the latter. On the eve of the final battle, Nuada proudly deemed Palanlas kin, naming him Raht-Menel Trí Breged: "Reach Heaven Through Violence"--by coincidence or fate the first mantra of Gen. Then as father and son they fought side-by-side in the host of Seiveril Miritar, and saw the kingdom of Myth Drannor at last restored. In the wake of the high elves' victory revels, Nuada asked his son if there was any boon he would claim for his service. Gen's memories had long since returned in full, and so he said only, with some sorrow in his heart: "I must go." So it was that Reach Heaven Through Violence bade farewell to the home where he had grown into greatness, and by the grace of Myth Drannor's high mages returned to the home where he had been born. He lifted the mourning-silence of Tauhr Leng and abided there for thirty years, guiding his people in the ancient wisdom of Zerthimon and the eladrin both. From the teachings of Gen Twice-Returned the githzerai forged an entirely new school of battle, which saw them drive back the chaos and expand their holdings throughout the inner planes. But this, too, was not to last. As old age crept upon him...again...Gen felt a foresight of terrible things to come: of a threat to all creation, and of five who would take up an infinite burden--a burden he could not leave them to bear unaided. Once again Gen left his people behind and journeyed across the planes...into the Hells. Reach Heaven Through Violence brought the legions of the Dark Eight a war like they had seldom seen, striking at random, cleaving through the baatezu's ranks, defying their most furious counterattacks, until he garnered the attention of Asmodeus himself. When the Lord of Nessus sent forces to claim him, Reach Heaven Through Violence...surrendered, and allowed himself to be dragged away in red-hot chains. Now he lies in the heart of Hell, enduring the torments of the archdevils with such calm as only a zerth can muster. His jailors feared to disarm him, believing that his sword would kill indiscriminately with no hands to hold it back, and so he waits for the appointed hour. Soon, the five will be at hand. Soon, Reach Heaven Through Violence will throw off these chains and resume his fight for the last time. Hwurmp fucked around with this message at 17:42 on Jun 2, 2018 |
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Jun 2, 2018 15:32
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OOC Gladys Post: Level 22 Item - Boots of Speed(Epic) Level 23 Item - +5 Whiteflame Armor(Rampager's Scale) Gold - Buy True Sending Ritual(25k), Overland Flight(25k), Endure Primordial Elements(12k), Waterborn(2k), Trollhide Bracers(Paragon, 105k), Eager Hero's Tatoo(Paragon, 125k), Sell previous Armor, Arms and Boots at 50%. End at 84k Gold. Feat for Disease Immunity/Poison resist and Epic Reflexes. Picked up CB5 Mass Cure Serious Wounds for a surgeless full party heal. Transform Close Blast 5 that Grants Allies Saves into CB5 that automatically removes one Hard CC.  Saint class feature lets me grant Saves for Surges or Surges for Saves if I'm adjacent to the target. Bought a spread of rituals for planar travel and more item tool-boxes.Combat Block: pre:Saint Gladys of Sune HP: 143/143 (THP: 16) AC: 40 Passive Insight: 36 Surges: 10/10 (V: 35) For: 36 Passive Perception: 29 Initiative: +22 Ref: 39 Action Points: 1 Speed: 7 Will: 42 Vision: Low-light Languages: Common, Elven, Dwarven, Giant, Draconic, Goblin At Will Encounter Daily Astral Seal [ ] Second Wind [ ] Word of Comfort Sacred Flame [ ] Spirit Flame [ ] Dismissal [ ] Remorse [ ] Stream of Life [ ] Sever the Source [ ] Radiant Armor [ ] Prophecy of Doom [ ] Brilliant Censure [ ] [ ] [ ] Healing Word [ ] Good Omens [ ] Healer's Mercy(Ch) [ ] Moment of Peace OR [ ] Hammer of Fate [ ] [ ] Favor of the Gods(Ch) [ ] Diabolic Soul [ ] Wrath [ ] Shining Symbol [ ] Divine Armor [ ] Divine Favor(I) [ ] Mass Curse Serious Wounds [ ] Calling(I) [ ] Sustenance(I) [ ] Flight(I) [ ] Gloves of Healing(I) [ ] Sovereign(I) [ ] Boots of Speed(I) [ ] Timeless(I) [ ] Whiteflame Armor(I) [ ] Guardian(I) [ ] Trollhide Bracers(I) Healing Word: Surge + 8d6 + 1d6(1) + 9 Healing Surges: +5 Healer's Implement, +3d6+4 Pacifist Healer, +1d6 Healer's Gloves(One Target) Target Gains: +2 Attack, +6 Defenses against next attack, then +2 Defenses USOMNT Last Legion Officer: When Ally Heals off spent Surge, Shift 1 or gain +2 AC/Reflex USONT Implement: +27, +29(Astral Seal), +1 vs Bloodied, Crits +5d6 Melee: +23, 2d4+7 Ranged: +17 Passives: Resists: Fire 17, Necrotic 22, Poison 19, Radiant 15 Sanc. Touch: If Adjacent to Ally for Surge, grant Save. If Save, grant Surge. Heal Skill grant Saves. Foresight: Allies within 5 cannot be surprised. Rolls Initiative twice. Prophetic Action: Action Point grants a Move Action for a different round. Terrifying Insight: Roll twice against Will. If both miss, Daze self UEOMNT. Ordained: Adjacent Allies get +1 to Saves. Saintly Grace: Cannot be Dominated. Dominates only Daze. Pacifist: If damaging a Bloodied enemy, Stun self UEOMNT. Superior Will: Save at start of turn to undo Save/Daze. Focused Mind: +4 to Saves against Stun/Daze. Eye of Judgement: Roll twice on Insight. Saving Grace: On Save Success, forgo the Save to let an Ally within 5 Save at +7. Supreme Healing: Healing Word targets two. H. Symbol Expertise: After using Implement Attack, cannot grant CA USOMNT. Ring of Flight: No Fall Damage, always land on feet. Divine Health: Immune to Diseases unless above Level 30. Eager Hero's Tatoo: After Short Rest gain THP 10 + 2 per Surge used since last Extended. Doomykins fucked around with this message at 04:58 on Jun 3, 2018 |
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Jun 3, 2018 04:53
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I also got a sweet tat (Demonskin), upgraded my armor, got some cool rings (to boost close damage and to swim), and most importantly a badge of the berserker, so that I can zoom around the battlefield with my new 12 speed in beast form with impunity. Took Warding Wind in favor of Sudden Bite, the level up gave me blinding swarm (surprise, snakes in your face!) and wall of the world. (surprise, 6ft. high 60ft. long wall of snakes!) This might change if I wanna pick up some other item, I still have some cash left. pre:Silenna HP: 140/140 (0) AC: 37 Passive Insight: 35 Surges: 8/8 (V: 35) For: 34 Passive Perception: 37 Initiative: +18 Ref: 37 Vision: Low-light Action Points: 0 Will: 40 Languages: Common, Elven Speed: 9 (walk, swim) At Will Encounter Daily Assassin's Shroud [ ] Blinding Swarm [ ] Clinging Drones Chill Wind [ ] Camouflage Cloak [ ] Fazing Fangs Grasping Claws [ ] Claws of Retribution [ ] Jaws of Ice Savage Rend [ ] Constricting Coils [ ] Primal Lion Wild Shape [ ] Darting Viper [ ] Wall of the World [ ] Elven Accuracy [ ] Feywild Sojourn [ ] Infiltrating Drone [ ] Second Wind [ ] Serpent's Dash [ ] Warding Wind Item Powers [ ][ ] Diamond Cincture (At-Will) [ ] Gloves of the Serpent (Encounter) [ ] Marauder's Armor (Daily) [ ] Ring of the Dragonborn Emperor (Daily) [ ] Staff of the Serpent (Daily) Conditionals Badge of the Berserker: Charges don't provoke OAs. Danger Sense: Roll twice for initiative. Demonskin Tattoo: When you spend an AP, gain resist 10 of your choice UEOE. Enraged Boar Form: When in beast form, +1 to attack and +2 to damage rolls on charge. Fey Beast Tamer: CA against enemies in your companion's aura. Communicate normally with your companion and other creatures of the same kind. Magnificent Beast: Can choose to become large when wild shaping to beast form. While you are in Large beast form, you get a +2 bonus to damage rolls and speed. Marauder's Armor: On charge, you get +3 AC UEOYNT. Pileus Helm: Telepathy 5, resist 10 necrotic, resist 10 poison, +4 to saves vs necrotic and poison. Pouncing Form: When using wild shape to change into beast form, you can shift 6 squares. Primal Resurgence: Once per day, when you become bloodied, you may regain use of a used primal daily power. Quick Wild Shape: Wild Shape as free action on your turn. Ring of Aquatic Ability: Breathe underwater. Upon reaching milestone, swim speed doubles. Ring of the Dragonborn Emperor: +3 damage to close attacks. Ruthless Killer: When hitting target with grasping claws, can choose to immobilize. Immobilize lasts UEOYNT or until you are no longer adjacent. Serpent Form: When in beast form, you get resist 15 poison and +5 to Stealth. Silt Striders: +1 item bonus to speed. Ignore difficult terrain on sand/silt/dirt. Leave no tracks in that terrain. Move across/stand on non-solid horizontal surfaces. Snake Fang Action: When you spend an AP to make an attack, each target hit by that attack takes 10 ongoing poison damage (save ends). Sovereign's Charge: Once per encounter on a beast form charge, use encounter instead of MBA. On hit, target is also prone. Staff Expertise: Ranged and Area attacks do not provoke OA. Melee attacks have +1 reach. Stalking Panther Form: When in beast form, +5 to Stealth and +4 to initiative. Swift Predator: +1 speed and +1 square to shift in beast form. Venom Hand Master: Attacks ignore poison resistance and immunity. Vicious Advantage: Gain CA against immobilized or slowed targets. Wild Elf Luck: +1d4 on elven accuracy reroll. pre:Watchful Cobra (Fey Beast Companion) HP: 70/70 AC: 37 Speed: 8, climb 6 Fort: 37 Initiative: 18 Ref: 39 Perception: 29 Will: 35 MBA: Melee 1; One Creature; +29 vs AC, Hit: 2d8+10 Aura 1 Enemies in the aura can't gain CA. Wahad fucked around with this message at 21:22 on Jun 21, 2018 |
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Jun 3, 2018 08:09
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Things Marcus has gained!: EDIT: replaced True Alter Fate with True Prescient Warning Powers: -Song of Transition utility Daily power: Create area burst 1 zone within 10 squares. While within the zone, you and any ally can teleport to any square within 10 squares of you. End of next turn, sustain minor. -True Prescient Warning Encounter power: When ally is hit, they can make a basic attack with +3d10 damage -Multiclass Mastery feat: two extra multiclass feats. -Twilight Adept: Stealth training, Cunning Sneak rogue feature 1/encounter. -Skirmishing Leader: Athletics training, allies can shift 1 square before or after action point action. -Bard Implement expertise: Bard spells crit on 19-20 -Keeper's Prescience (24th level Sage of Ages): At the start of each of your turns, roll a d20. You can use the result of that roll in place of any one d20 roll you make before the start of your next turn. Items: -Piercing Songblade +5: Yeah, it's a little inefficient to double up on attack items, but (a) I didn't want to have to juggle the Lilting Songblade's +4 with the Hellfire Lute's +5, and (b) I like the Piercing Songblade's item power better. Daily, any enemy hit with a bard power using it takes -2 AC for the rest of the encounter. -Ioun Stone of Allure: Don't know why I didn't have this before, to be honest. +4 to Charisma checks, +5 item bonus to Charisma attack damage -Luminary Ring: +(Cha)7 to range of all powers that restore HP or grant bonuses. And the Daily power is great: I can add +1 to any power bonus I grant until the end of the effect, +2 with a milestone. -Planar Stasis Boots: They don't negate forced movement like the Dwarven Greaves, but they're also Encounter instead of Daily, and make me immune to forced teleports. pre:Marcus HP: 147/147 (00 temp) AC: 37 Passive Insight: 44 Surges: 12/12 (V: 36) For: 36 Passive Perception: 27 Initiative: +13 Ref: 36 Speed: 6 Will: 40 Action Points: 1 Languages: All of them Vision: Normal At Will Encounter Daily Vicious Mockery [ ] Use Vulnerability [ ] Verse of Triumph Staggering Note [ ] Words of Friendship [ ] Wail of Anguish Wail of Anguish Attack [ ] [ ] [ ] Majestic Word [ ] Increasing the Tempo [ ] Deflect Attention [ ] Visions of Victory [ ] Victorious Smite [ ] Song of Courage [ ] Earthquake Strike [ ] Despana's Strategem [ ] Word of Vulnerability [ ] Echoing Steps [ ] Second Wind [ ] Veil [ ] Battle Chant [ ] Lessons of History [ ] True Prescient Warning [ ] Haste [ ] Song of Transition MBA: Piercing Songblade +5, +30 attack, 2d8+8 damage Crits: +5d10 Item Powers [ ] Piercing Songblade (Daily) [ ] ESP Medallion (Encounter) [ ] Adamantine Hide Gloves (Daily) [ ] Circlet of Mental Onslaught (Daily) [ ] Planar Stasis Boots (Encounter) [ ] Luminary Ring (Daily) [ ] Hellfire Lute power #1 (recharge 6): Can grant basic attack [ ] Hellfire Lute power #2 (recharge 6): Can add 1 or 1d4 to an ally's attack or skill check Conditionals !When allies spend action points!: -They can shift 1 square before or after the action -+7 damage on hit, or +7 temp hp on miss Interrupts -When an ally is hit by an attack, they may make a basic attack with +3d10 damage (Encounter) -Subject to forced movement: -2 squares (Encounter), can make MBA if ending adjacent to enemy (Feat) -Targeted by a burst or blast attack: -4 attack to other targets (Daily) Resists: 1 all Danger Sense: Roll twice for initiative. Virtue of Valor: Once per round when an ally within 5 squares bloodies or drops an enemy to 0 HP, Marcus can spend a free action to give that ally 10 temp HP, and he gains the same amount. Opportunistic Withdrawal: Moving doesn't provoke an OA from enemies Marcus has CA against. Planar Stasis Boots: Cannot be teleported against will. Battle Song Expertise: Marcus adds +1 to the number of squares he can push, pull, and slide creatures. Bard Implement Expertise: Bard spells crit on 19-20. Keeper's Prescience: Roll 1d20 every round, replace it with any d20 roll that turn. Orbs fucked around with this message at 02:14 on Jun 8, 2018 |
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Jun 7, 2018 16:51
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Enough people asked for an extra day that I decided to push the deadline back 24 hours to Sunday June 10th at 11:59pm EDT!
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Jun 9, 2018 04:50
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Siviss, Kobold Visionary Siviss is large for a kobold, standing four and a half feet tall, with a sturdy tail and the lean build of a spellcaster who faces danger rather than living in an isolated tower. An upturned nose, on which eyeglasses are perched, and a dark green scale coloration with patches of lighter green and blue, give her an almost charming air, less likely to trigger the distrust. There is enough of dragons in kobolds for them to grow in size as they age, particularly those who--like Siviss--manifest arcane talents. The story goes that it is dragon blood that sometimes rears its head in kobolds, but Siviss has no particularly notable lineage: the daughter of ordinary kobold craftsmen, her arcane talents nevertheless manifested strong and early. To go with her gift, she also showed unusual leadership (well, of kobolds, at least) ability: there is a subtle thrum of power. As a result, she was able to live off leadership, her advice valued, her chosen projects succeeding dramatically. She did not strive for the chieftancy: her position was comfortable and safe, gave her relative wealth and leisure time in which to read pilfered and bartered-for tomes, and as time passed, the magic in her blood thrummed more strongly and her abilities grew. --- Sviss is shirking her duties. Technically. She knows that she will not be chided: the chieftain grows fat by delegating decisions to her, and the things she plans go smoothly enough that only a fool would begrudge her the occasional journey out of the warren. They do not know where she goes, exactly, and she usually doesn't know where she's going until she begins walking, the thrum of magic in her blood drawing her to places of power and places of beauty with no rhyme or reason. The oasis is just below her, surrounded by dunes, cradled by the desert like a precious child. She can see a small group of antelopes drinking from it, a lazy crocodile only half-attempting to pretend to be a log as it basks in the sun. It doesn't attempt to grab an antelope, accepting that it is too old and fat to catch healthy prey. The sand around Siviss stirs, although there is no breeze. It swirls around her, and a column of air rises upwards, and she can smell the sharp scent of a coming storm. Above her, all around her, is the sound of beating wings: very faint, like it's distant, but growing louder, getting closer. She opens her mouth in wonder, gazing upwards at grey clouds pulling themselves out of empty air in the blue sky, and tastes the first raindrop when it hits, cool and sweet and wonderous. The sound of beating wings grows louder--vast wings in vast numbers, beating the air like thunder. It is not in her head. It is real, it is here, stirring the sand and makign the palms rustle. The antelopes are the first to notice, raising their heads and tensing up. Thunder cracks, and the clouds swell and darken, and dozens of white cranes take off, startled from the shade beneath the trees into squawking flight. They rush up and over the dune Siviss stands on, the sound of their wings mixing with that all above and around her, and for a moment her world is soaring white birds and the smell of joy and freedom in her mouth, and then there is more thunder, and the sky opens, and there is rain, rain, rain, and Siviss laughs in time with the singing in her blood, and knows that she can do great things. She does not return to the hive until very late, and she seems taller, and those who might have remarked upon her absence find themselves ducking their heads and curling their tails in respect. "You look happy," Tuluk, her den-mate, says later, expertly seasoning the root vegetables he's cooking over a fire. "Did you find a treasure out there?" He's being playful, she knows, but she smiles at him like she's sharing a secret. "Yes. Yes, I think I did," Siviss tells him, and for a moment he thinks he hears the distant beating of thousands of wings. ---- Siviss has outlived not only her generation, but the next, and the one after that, and the one after that. She learned the sorrow of outliving a series of den-mates, and saw her children raised by the hive, and their children, until she felt the whole tribe to be a large extended family, like a proud great-grandmother. It is not easy for anyone to think beyond the traditions and rules of their society, to consider what could be instead of what is; yet Siviss could not help but dwell on the kobold condition. Kobolds, she came to realize after giving the matter a great deal of thought, lead fairly pointless lives; nasty, brutish, and short. They pilfer and steal; they fight amongst themselves; they subjugate lesser kobolds even as they are subjugated by evil humanoids or by dragons. And, of course, urged on by the priests of Kurtulmak, they try to kill gnomes. This is a shame. Kobolds, Siviss knows better than anyone, are wonderful. Quick learners with curious minds; social creatures with deft fingers and a natural talent for engineering. If they weren't busy serving dragons, squabbling with rival hives, attacking gnomes, and all the other things their priests urge them to do in order to serve Kurtulmak, they could build sewage systems instead of pit traps, aqueducts instead of acid sprayers, bridges instead of walls rigged to collapse. They could create, and innovate, and trade, and benefit the world and themselves, if only they were not shackled to servitude. The priests, Siviss decided, have to go. Not only that: Kurtulmak has to go. Perhaps he was once the greatest hero of the kobolds. Perhaps not. History is murky, and the gods try to shape their own stories until the truth is lost to time. But now, consumed by his hatred for the gnomes, consumed by his greed and wickedness, Kurtulmak was holding the kobolds back. He was twisting their brilliance into something dark and malevolent. Parasol in hand, body swathed in protective cloth, and spectacles on her green snout, Siviss left her hive and set out resolutely for the lands beyond. The desert is a harsh land, if one is out of sight of the river: she came across those that cared more for ability and willingness to contribute to the survival of a group than for race. She traveled, seeking both knowledge and arcane lore. When she felt strong enough and knowledgeable enough, she returned to her hive, challenged the chieftain, and send him to his knees with a clap of thunder. Then she went and found the biggest kobold warren nearby, one that had a particularly mean and greedy chieftain. Him, she caused to explode from the inside out, small chunks of Chief Kivik splattering the walls of his den. Siviss began her grand experiment. At first, it was just her hive and the big warren. Then, the other hives nearby joined in, seeing opportunity. They were flocking to her like they might to a dragon, drawn by her power--but unlike a dragon, Siviss was not about to use them and throw them away. She put her rules in place, she sent the priests scurrying to other warrens with their tails between their legs, and she pronounced the kobolds that had come to her a city, and told them that they were free. They weren't a city, of course. Not yet. But Siviss made it happen. She identified the best and brightest among them and put their talents to use leading others, educating others. She persuaded them of her grand design, and they nodded, and lit up inside with the fire of an idea that had been previously inconceivable. But Siviss was working with the resources of kobolds, which are limited. She was tested and granted a gift all at once: the blue wyrm Arathronaxiss, She Who Leaves a White Trail of Bones Through the Desert, misliked the gospel of liberty that Siviss preached, an ddecided to nip it in the bud. Even for a dragon, extinguishing a kobold warren isa frustrating task: there are too many tunnels, too deep under the ground. But Arathronaxiss decided to make the effort. Siviss came out to meet her, and left the corpse for the alchemists to harvest. --- "This is not one of your warrens, Great One." Heart in her throat, pulse hammering in time to the sound of wingbeats, Siviss tries to strike a tone of firm respect. Not an equal to an equal, but a nevertheless-rightful authority to a greater one. "We have made no pact and pledged no fealty. You have no claim on us." Lightning crackles in Arathronaxiss' voice. "All warrens in my desert are my warrens, little hatchling," the dragon hisses. "And you are right. You have pledged no fealty. I have come to correct that." So. Clear skies, still air, the sharp, nose-stinging smell that accompanies a lightning strike. So this is how it has to be. She has lived a good life. She hopes that her warren can hide, can close their hatches, can escape through the emergency tunnels, can survive this and... reform elsewhere? Lead a more limited life, stripped of ambition by power and greed and cruelty? No. "We make no pact," Siviss says, "and pledge no fealty. We are kobolds, and that is enough for us. Let it be enough for you, Great One. You have many servants. You don't need more." The sound of hundreds of beating wings; grey stormclouds swirling out of nothing above them. Arathronaxiss glances upwards, reflexively; opens her mouth--to reply, or to question, or to breathe lightning. Siviss doesn't give her the chance. She strikes first, strikes hard: her hands clap together, and thunder erupts inside Arathronaxiss' open mouth. There's a horrible cracking sound as the dragon's jaws are forced open farther than they were ever meant to; the scales around the sides of the dragon's face crack, pieces raining to the ground. Arathronaxiss howls, and breathes anyway. Kobolds are canny, and even a dragon might underestimate a kobold who is prepared. Siviss is ready for this: she's already calling lightning down from the clouds she's formed up above, and the dragon's lightning forks, drawn to meet the path of the existing strike. Siviss has to keep her distance, of course. One bite, one swipe of the dragon's claws, and she'll be torn in half. She hammers Arathronaxiss with thunder, her heart hammering with each arcane blow. The dragon staggers: in her arrogance, she hadn't planned for such a fierce assault from such a small opponent. Siviss sends Arathronaxiss rolling down the dune, sand erupting into the air, hiding Siviss from the dragon's sight. Again she strikes, and again, and again, and for a moment, it looks like the sudden ferocity of her assault might actually drive the dragon away. Then Arathronaxiss roars through her broken jaws, and shakes her head, and flaps her wings, launching herself into the air. She arcs around and comes down, through another thunderclap, launching herself towards the cloth-wrapped kobold that dares to defy her claws-first. She comes down hard and fast, mightier than any lightning Siviss can conjure, weakened and enraged. Another thunderbolt, another, as Siviss tries to hammer Arathronaxiss aside, tries frantically to knock the dragon off course, to avoid being torn apart and crushed beneath the wyrm. It isn't enough. The dragon is too large, too heavy, moving too fast, and her roar is as loud as Siviss' thunder. Kobolds are canny, and they have never, ever fought fair, not against each other, and certainly not against larger, mightier opponents. For as long as others have attempted to destroy them, they have led their assailants into deadly traps. Siviss folds space at the last possible instant, an arcane step that takes her past Arathronaxiss and to the other side of the dune. It's too late for the dragon to change course: Arathronaxiss slams into the dune where Siviss stood a moment ago, the impact sending the kobold tumbling even dozens of feet away. The impact also triggers the massive adamantine-tipped spike hidden underneath the dune. It had taken months to acquire the metal, to enchant it, to build a shaft into the dune, to build the ratchet that kept it tense and ready to strike until an impact triggered a mechnaism that would release the ratchet, spring open the trap door hidden in the dune, and cause the spike to stab upwards. It punched through Arathronaxiss' scales, softer on the underbelly and weakened further by Siviss' assaults, spilling crackling dragon blood and violet intestines onto the sand. The wyrm flapped her wings, and writhed, but could not pull herself free of the barbed spike. When the dragon's death throes had subsided and lightning no longer turned clumps of sand into fused glass, Siviss came to make sure. Arathronaxiss was quite dead, her eyes still open, an expression of broken disbelief on her face. --- Kobolden, the City of Kobolds, was officially established then, and with the dragon's hoard to spend, it grew. It repelled a priest-inspired incursion from another warren with ease; it became a place of non-stop industry. It expanded above-ground, to the considerable concern of a nearby human town, which sent a band of warriors to investigate. Those warriors met Siviss, and were provided food and drink and gifts, and came away with a stunned sense of wonder, half-assured despite their wariness that Kobolden meant them no harm. They left with a sense that the world was changing, but they left carrying samples of kobold goods to give to the merchants passing through their village. One of them, Thorden Halfhand, was more enthused than the rest. It was wonderful craftsmanship, and unique. This would put his town on the map. No one else had anything quite like this, after all. Kobolden kept growing. The nearby town became a city, Thorden Haldhand guiding it to wealth even after merchants began to trade with Kobolden directly. A delegation of kobolds consulted with dwarven engineers--skeptical at first, excited once they got a look at the blueprints--and learned how to scale up and maintain the systems they had built. And for all that the priests shrieked and chittered and pronounced it heresy and abomination, kobolds kept on coming to Kobolden. The strange ones, at first--unusually gifted, unusually inclined--but soon they were pouring in from all over, in response to the need for capable labor and the desire for a better, more free life. Priests were admitted if they wanted to come, but preaching the bloody gospel of Kurtulmak in the streets of Kobolden made one more a laughing-stock than a successful missionary. Some priests left, ashamed or furious. Others stayed, quietly shedding their vestments. Siviss traveled again; a little at first, afraid to leave Kobolden, more truly her child than any of the kobolds hatched from one of her eggs, then more widely. She gained the notice of sages and scholars, studied voraciously, and managed to put together a way for Kobolden to govern itself, an electoral system that kobolds, group-minded as they are, are remarkably well-suited to. They were led by a council and a chieftain whose powers were limited, and while a member of the council could achieve great wealth and influence, by and large they had to do it by continuing to improve things for those who elected them. After all, there were many willing to replace them. It was not an ideal system, but Siviss did her best to keep her hands off of it. Every proud mother knows that sooner or later, her child has to manage on its own. Kobolden's thriving independence allowed Siviss to continue to travel, to make alliances, to impress the powers of the world and to convince them that Kobolden was not a threat but rather an opportunity; that as the fortunes of kobolds waxed through trade and craftsmanship, everyone would benefit. Those in power became familiar with her; began to account for her in their plans, make alliances, support or contest her aims. Her sorcery made her an indisputable power in the world, and whenever a power sets itself to changing things, other powers take notice. And she made her way into the Astral Sea, because her sights were still set on Kurtulmak and his dominion over the great majority of kobolds, and she had not forgotten what would need to happen if Kobolden was to be more than a happy accident, a small city-state unique among kobold warrens. It was there that she found it, deep in the Astral, far from the Known Sea where Hestovar and Arvandor drift: an astral seed, the remanants of a long-ago-collapsed dominion that responded to her thoughts. Something she could shape, could build, could draw power from. Something that would give her a base to one day resist Kurtulmak's influence on the world on something remotely resembling equal footing, and one day break his hold over kobolds entirely. Learning what was happening with the Tablets of Fate gave her an opportunity: anything that threatened the world in this way needed to be stopped, of course, and she felt that she could contribute. She had grown old, and mighty, and had slain more than one dragon that had come--indignant and furious--to lay waste to Kobolden. And if an opportunity to gain the power she needed to confront Kurtulmak, or lay him low, or imprison him, came up, so much the better. --- It is difficult to believe, Siviss thinks. The scale of events, the momentousness of them. The actions being taken and the decisions being made. She wonders if those taking action, shaping what is to come, are as hesitant underneath their show of bravery as she was every time she took a big, bold step into the unknown, every time she took destiny into her own hands. She is staying at Blackstaff Tower now, recovering from her latest dragonslaying. It was that--her repeated demonstration to old wyrms that their relationship with the kobold race was changing for good, usually lethally--that had truly gotten her the attention of the great magi of Faerun. Apparently, when a dragon dies, those in the know hear about it. When multiple dragons die, in such a relatively short time, they start to pay attention... and to acknowledge that perhaps the kobold slaying them should be counted among their number. She has grown a little tired of their condescension, their half-hidden shock at finding that she is educated ("self-taught? Truly? How remarkable!" one particularly pompous elf had said, aghast,) and erudite. Fortunately, there is none of that here: she has spent some days discussing both arcane and political theory with the current Blackstaff's Heir, Laraelra Harsard, a woman who has treated her as a peer and has needed less convincing than most that Kobolden should be given every chance to thrive. She is within inches of securing trade with Waterdeep--trade not just in goods, but in knowledge, apprentices to go both ways on the road between. Both! Humans, elves, dwarves, working in Kobolden, learning from her people! It is a thrilling prospect. It is a little less thrilling now than it was yesterday, though nothing can quite dampen the joy of it. The missive she received gave her information that was as urgent as it was dire. The Tablets of Fate! She had barely read about them, seen obscure mentions, but it seems that they are very real, and that they have been shattered, and that she--Siviss, a craftsman's daughter from a hive too small to even be a proper named warren--was invited, was needed, to help set things right. To restore Ao, to check the plans of evil gods. Well. Perhaps she could do it. The last wyrm she had slain had been a great and ancient being, but she had pushed her magical talents and her determination and brought it down. And she would be working with others. Others she has heard of, has read about. Silenna, the serpent-druid, with her grove of imprisoned liches. Arka, a great hunter of monsters. Marcus, a bard involved in--and telling the stories of--too many momentous events to list. Gladys, a Saint who spoke directly to Sune herself, and Merritt, an angel who did likewise with Torm! Doing this, working with these tall-folk... everyone would have to acknowledge her, then. To take her seriously. And she could do it. Was she not the slayer of Arathronaxiss, of Arveiaturace, of ancient Charvekkanathor? Had she not sailed the Astral Sea and tamed a dominion-seed? Was she not building a dam against the currents of history? Yes, she has something to contribute here, something new to bring to the table. And if she is successful, then she will have everything she needs to make her own dreams real. ----------------------------------------------- Things to note on the sheet: -The arcane-blooded dragonborn variant is being used to emulate what would have been a "Dragonwrought" kobold in the past. Reflavoring, hoo! -The paragon path Demon-Wrought Bolts power is usable 2x/encounter thanks to Planeshaper's 21 feature The mechanical gimmicks: -A big flat bonus to damage, coupled with both multiattacks (Demon-Wrought Bolts, minor-action Lightning Cuts) and big honkin' AoEs courtesy of Resounding Thunder (Area Burst 2s and a close blast 4). -Crig ol' biticals--a sorcerer feat maxes out bonus crit damage instead of rolling it. -Sorcerous Flux, which lets her swap the attack rolls of two creatures she targets--great for consistency and for shifting those big crits where they need to go, when they happen to land on minor enemies instead of the big ones. The character and the party: Mechanically, Siviss adds a little control and a lot of damage, and has great synergy with some of the leader powers in the group. Story-wise, Siviss adds a relative "up and comer" who's still done great things, but might be underestimated compared to the rest of them. She has a strong pragmatic streak, but is, at the same time, caught up in something over her head, which should put her at a nice balance between the most cynical and most hope-and-light of the party. She also has her own agenda which she will try to push forward, but one that doesn't involve screwing over the party and isn't incompatible with anyone's aims or morals, which can help drive the story. Also, she's an educated old-lady kobold with those li'l round glasses at the end of her snoot, so she's pretty adorable. LogicNinja fucked around with this message at 08:29 on Jun 11, 2018 |
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Jun 10, 2018 12:38
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 The Giant, Exiled Champion of the Sunrise Goliaths Orcish warrior witnessing The Giant backdropping K'urthax, Orc-King of the Great Wastes from atop his spiked tower posted:"GRUUMSH ALMIGHTY! HE KILLED HIM! AS GRUUMSH AS MY WITNESS, HE IS BROKEN IN HALF!" Destiny. A concept whose call is unknown for most people in Faerûn, who prefer to live content and safe from their houses and professions, accepting whatever destiny brings them with resignation. But this isn't something that applies to a certain man, someone who from early age knew he was destined for Greatness. The boy who would become the Giant was a simple Goliath from an unremarkable family from an unremarkable tribe that dwelled deep within the Sunrise mountains. Yet a certain feeling was engraved deep within the boy's mind. A stronger feeling of competition than even other Goliaths, and the belief that he could do more, and a burning desire of being the strongest. And so, the young boy decided to train, and train, and train. He lifted rocks, he ran around the mountains, he wrestled against the bears and other dangerous creatures of the wilderness, he climbed up and down steep cliffs every day after his chores were done, all before a fateful day, a day of celebration that happened every ten years where all the tribes of the Sunrise mountains joined for a great wrestling tournament. And when the day came, the fruits of his training bore fruit. While his opponents were far more experienced and larger than him, champions such as Holgath the Stonebreaker, Gorman the Unmovable and "Mountain Body" Arshan from more powerful tribes, the boy prevailed against them, and gained the right to wear the sacred mask of the Champion and to take the title of "Giant" for a decade. This would be a moment of great triumph, until a rumbling came from a distant part of the mountains. Suddenly, by taking advantage of the festivities, a massive horde of Orcs, Orogs and Goblinoid renegade slavers descended upon the Goliath tribes reunited. A massive brawl ensued, and while the horde was successfully repelled, the cost was too great, and one of the Orcs made an impression on The Giant. A large, massive armored leader of the Orcs known as K'urthax whose sheer power and strength impressed him, and while the Goliaths began assembling an expedition to take revenge on the Orcish confederation that masterminded the attack, The Giant had only a desire to prove himself stronger than K'urthax in mind. A month later, and the Goliath expedition arrived at the place where the Orc-King and his surviving followers dug themselves in, and while a bloody battle raged outside, The Giant raced towards the tower where the king was said to be directing his troops from inside, crushing any goblinoid and orc that stood in his way like nuisances that they were. Once he arrived at the throne room of the Orc-King, The Giant immediately sent a challenge to K'urthax for a deathmatch. Confident of his abilities, he taunted K'urthax into using his weapons while he would fight unarmed, and the furious monarch leaped to the challenge, charging towards the Giant with a massive flail in hand. The combat between the two raged for hours while the pitched battle below matched its violence. When it looked like the Goliath expedition was soon to be defeated, a shape became discernible from the top of the keep. The Giant, holding the Orc-King in a mighty grasp, leaped from the top of the three stories tall keep, suplexing him into the ground with a powerful slam and completely smashing his opponent, as well as his army's morale. Once the battle subsided, the Goliaths began to return to the Sunrise Mountains, their mission done. But the Giant refused to do so. He knew that he wouldn't be able to use his strength to his full potential, and would never find worthy opponents if he remained isolated, and instead traveled around all of Faerûn, challenging opponents whenever he went, from massive Dragons to Barbarian Generals, always desiring to finally obtain without a doubt, the title of "The Strongest", and this peculiar invitation that was sent to him... Yes, this might be what he needs to ensure his might will be unmatched through all of the planes. After all, is there a better opportunity that one might get to backdrop a God or a Higher Devil? Plutonis fucked around with this message at 19:17 on Jun 10, 2018 |
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Jun 10, 2018 19:14
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 The Scarlet Harrier, Red Hand, One of the Many of the Red Sashes, Scourge of Shadows and Champion of Waterdeep (PDF) Adriel Selentyr is an elven socialite in possession of both boundless curiosity and an abundance of free time. The third child of a moderately well-to-do elven merchant family in Waterdeep, Adriel works as a guild scribe whose duties include such exciting tasks as transcription, illustration, dictation, design and bookkeeping. Though some members of the guild supplement their income with such deeps as forging official documents, Adriel's hobby manages to be both more ethically valid than forgery but somehow infinitely worse. An inveterate gossip, Adriel covertly publishes the Twilight Fathom, a broadsheet whose contents tend towards the speculative and salacious, prone to rumor, conjecture and outright theatrics. It's certainly not a successful publication, as you'd be hard-pressed to find someone in Waterdeep who actually buys the broadsheet, but at the same time, it's difficult to find a tavern or square where everyone is completely unaware of its contents. The broadsheet does a fair amount of trade in gossip about things such as current events, noble affairs, crime, letters from Waterdeep citizens (and letters to those Waterdeep citizens informing them of their foolishness and failings, and letters to those citizens rebuking their accusations and making insinuations about their upbringing...) but the return of the Red Sashes seems to have given a fresh wind to the publication. A vigilante group who targeted those the Watch could not (or would not) in order to protect the weak and downtrodden, the Red Sashes had long been a casualty of the upheaval that shoot Waterdeep a century ago. But the past few years have seen a sharp upsurge in vigilante work, clear signs of the group's revival. (Though, as one letter to the broadsheet pointed out, the Red Sashes of old were named for their habit of using red sashes as bindings, not as fashion accessories, proving this band of crimson-clad costumed constables as nothing more than a band of ill-informed upstarts. Furthermore...) The Revived Red Sashes are probably capable of subtle work, where a merchant's corrupt deals are undone thanks to the acquisition of certain records and their convenient arrival into the hands of the authorities, but those aren't really the stories that get retold. The ones readers look for are the stories of daring, drama, wild exploits and questionable decisions, stories that tend to involve the Red Hand. It's not necessarily their official name, of course, merely a moniker given to them by the Fathom's contributors, one to designate the rotating band of red rapscallions that tend to crop up so frequently in the most audacious doings of the vigilante group, which the Fathom's contributors have opted to name as well. Vigilantes such as the Red Ram, a warrior who treats walls as mere suggestions, or the Stalwart Rose's swift binding skills. Some like the Copper Knight clearly belong in the thick of things, while others like the Shadow-in-Vermillion prefer to be above the fray. And then there's the Scarlet Harrier, either a swashbuckler without peer or an absolutely reckless fool who will go toe-to-toe with cultists and their extraplanar masters with nothing more than leather armor and a wildly flashing blade. The fact that the Harrier's physical description varies from incident to incident suggests that this is more of a temporary role in the vanguard, though similarities in fighting style lead to speculation of either a common school of reckless sword-waving or some sort of inherited skill passed from member to member. The Fathom constantly speculates on the mystery of these vigilantes, wondering about their nature, origin and abilities. Are they adventurers? Mages? Soldiers from the moon? Are they led by the One, the rumored leader of the original Red Sashes? Occasionally the Fathom publishes letters from those who claim to have spoken to Red Hand members in the brief moments before they left the scene- they're wildly contradictory, but when asked about their leadership, the members simply replied that they're "one of many", which was of course was sign that their leadership was clearly the One of Many. The efficacy of the Red Hand is always up for debate, with opinions ranging from "reckless fools who frequently make things worse" to "skillful heroes making the best of ever-changing situations" to "devious schemers whose every audacious move is part of a calculated scheme to bring the Watch down upon themselves and their foes." The last one is almost entirely willful optimism on the reader's part, though it isn't uncommon for Force Grey to be deployed when enough of the Red Hand are in action. The Red Hand crashed the Lord's Gala in a shocking display that threatened to pit them against the entire city, only to uncover a Thayvian plot to influence the city's nobility through a web of enchanted jewelry. The ensuing fire was clearly the fault of the Red Wizards. The Open Lord couldn't condone their actions, but fortunately for the Red Hand Force Grey spent several hours securing the manor before they could pursue the vigilantes. Their most storied adventure could the one where the Onyx Titan to ripped its way out from the Undermountain and menace the city, necessitating the reanimation of several of Waterdeep's Walking Statues in order to do battle with the behemoth. Later investigation would reveal it to be culmination of the work of a shadowy murder cult which the Red Hand had tracked through the wards of Waterdeep into the depths of Skullport and then Undermountain. The Twilight Fathom doesn't offer a balanced view of the Red Sashes so much as a willingness to publish almost any piece of praise, condemnation or rambling screed on the subject of the vigilantes. This has led to speculation and accusations of just about every prominent figure in Waterdeep being a piece in either the Red Sashes' master plan or the forces out to stop them, up to and including the staff of the broadsheet itself. Which is rather ridiculous, since Adriel would have trouble dueling a pot-roast, let alone a purple worm. And to be fair, Adriel Selentyr isn't actually a member of the Red Sashes. Mostly due to the fact that Adriel Selentyr isn't actually Adriel Selentyr. Adriel Selentyr was a victim of circumstance, a convenient target of infiltration for the Unseen, a group of shapeshifters, assassins and deceivers whose base of power is a far cry from their heyday before the Spellplague. Adriel had the right blend of station, influence and minimal attachments to serve as a functional set of eyes for the Unseen, a stepping stone to greater powers, the perfect starting point for a young doppelganger recruited from the streets of Baldur's Gate, given a new name and new assignment to test the shapeshifter's skills. It worked well, with the shapeshifter studying the young elf's extensive journals to better pull off the part. It was an oddly enjoyable experience, with Adriel's parents and siblings as loving and supporting as they had ever been. Things took a turn for the better when the doppelganger discovered that Saeli Selentyr represented the rarest of opportunities- a shot at one of the Masked Lords, a position the Unseen hadn't held in over a century. All they had to do was have Adriel lead Saeli into an ambush and they'd be one step closer to true power. But the young doppelganger couldn't do it, couldn't condemn these people to the same fate that had unknowingly befallen their child. The Watch couldn't be involved without implicating the shapeshifter's own sins. But it was Adriel's journals that provided the clue- stories of mysterious vigilantes who did what the watch could not. It's never too late to change. https://i.imgur.com/YtPcJJR.jpg
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Jun 11, 2018 04:59
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Hey everyone, sorry for the delay! Part of it was class and part of it was delaying and deliberating over and over because of how difficult it was to pick just one out of all of the great apps posted. I wanted to thank you all for your interest in my game and for putting in the time to come up with these amazing characters! It's a shame there's only room for one  .With all that said, the character I'm selecting is: Sevit Axalethris by Wol Thanks everyone again for all of the interest! --- Since all of the characters in this game are the stuff of well known legend whose exploits you've no doubt heard of, I have some small homework for you all to help integrate Wol into the party: Wol: Please post Sevit's knowledge and thoughts/opinions of all of the other PCs in the game! Other Current Players: Please post the same about Sevit!
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Jun 11, 2018 23:25
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Saint Gladys of Sune: Gladys and I don't have a lot in common. While I've hopped from plane to plane on the lookout for adventure, she's stayed in one city and built it up around her. While she loved, nurtured, and built her legend by empowering those around her, I led navies into battle, destroying and killing for the sake of the cosmic balance. We've both done good in our own ways, but those ways are as different as you can get. Alright, look. You're not always going to catch me this thoughtful, but I guess I'm just in that kind of mood right now, so here you go. I envy her a bit. The strength of her convictions. Healing is so much more work than destroying, and the fact that she's not only strong enough to insist on doing things the hard way, but can actually make it work? Yeah. I envy her. That doesn't mean I think she's right all the time, by the way, so don't go getting any ideas. I'm not looking to convert. Just that what she's done, what she can do, is something I never could. Silenna of the Green: Not someone I'm too familiar with, but from first impressions, she's as dour as a marut. I don't know how you get that powerful without enjoying yourself at least a little. Still, I find her intriguing. We dragonborn are quick to praise the majesty of dragons, but there's a certain beauty in the serpent, too. The sinuous way she moves, so fluid and effortless, is like few physical beings I've ever seen. It reminds me - and I don't say this lightly - it reminds me of the way energy flows, free and harmonious through the cosmos. I've met elemental lords of water, fire, air; perfect embodiments of the elements they represent. If there was an elemental lord of snakes, she'd be it. I don't doubt that someone like that has an important place in the cosmos. That, at least, I respect. Marcus Gellantara: I've caroused with Kossuth's janissaries, I've swapped stories in the Court of the Summer Fey. I've gone drinking with Gloomwrought skeletons. Don't think I haven't heard all of Marcus Gellantara's famous tales. Get me in the right spirit and you might even find I can recite the tale of Abarad and the Court of Bones by heart. What I find really intriguing, though, is that Marcus is said to actually tell something close to the truth. If a good bard looks to go where the best stories are, I'd expect to find someone of his calibre right in the middle of events that'll shape the world to come. If he's here, it's a sign that the stars are right. It's where I need to be as well. Arka Scorchoak: Drinking with elves is a good way to hear stories about Arka Scorchoak. I couldn't begin to tell you if any of them are true, but that's what makes them good stories. If I can believe half of what I heard, she's some kind of primal death spirit, appearing from out of the dark to put an arrow between the eyes of anything that threatens to mess with the natural balance. As someone who fights to maintain the cosmic balance, that sounds familiar. I think the two of us would get along, so long as she isn't some grim spirit of vengeance type. Merritt Carlisle: If there's anyone more rigid and uncreative than Bahamut's elder clerics, you'll find them in Torm's service. Might sound like a strange comment coming from a naval officer, but even in the most disciplined hierarchy, you need some room to maneuver. I don't know Carlisle personally, but if he's such a staunch Tormite that he got made an angel, that doesn't leave me with much hope for his powers of improvisation. I'd never doubt his strength, though. I heard what he did in the Siege of Baldur's Gate. Our ambassador was there in the siege, feet on the ground, and he saw Carlisle do his thing with his own two eyes. The way he told it, this knight was standing alone with a ring of Banites closing in around him, and more with crossbows aimed at him from the roof. With a great cry, he launched himself into the circle of blades, cutting two soldiers down with a single blow. When the others fell on him, it wasn't that he dodged their blades. It wasn't that he outsmarted them, outmaneuvered the crossbowmen, nothing like that. He just fought. Yeah, he got hit. He took a beating. But no matter how many blows landed, how many bolts stuck between the plates of his armour, he just kept fighting until there weren't any Banites left. Somehow, he was still standing, and he just launched himself forward into the next battle. And you know what? I might have my fingers crossed in hope that he's cleverer than most of his Order, but that kind of toughness is something I can't turn up my snout at. That's... something, any way you slice it. pre:Sevit Axalethris HP: 139/139 (00 THP) AC: 39 Passive Insight: 23 Surges: 7/7 (V: 35) Fort: 39 Passive Perception: 28 Initiative: +14 Ref: 33 Action Points: 1 Speed: 8 Will: 43 Vision: Darkvision Languages: Common; Draconic; Primordial Resists: 15 cold (Sun) / psychic (Moon) / radiant (Stars) Immune: Blinded Saving Throws: +2 At Will Encounter Daily Blazing Starfall [ ] Second Wind [ ] Glacial Armour Dragonfrost [ ] Dragonfear [ ] Day and Night Defender Aura [ ] Righteous Radiance [ ] Radiant Wings Sea Legs [ ] Chains of Fire [ ] Swords of the Marilith [ ] Stalking Frost [ ] Rock Armour [ ] Sun and Stars [ ] Chaos Link [ ] Demon-Soul Bolts [ ] Platinum Scales [ ] Sudden Scales [ ] Demonic Wrath [ ] Draconic Majesty [ ] Quickened Spellcasting MBA: +30 vs. AC, 2d8+14 damage. RBA: Dragonfrost: +29 vs. Fort; 2d8+35 cold damage. Push 1 square. Crit: +5d10 damage; target blinded USoNT. Item Powers [ ] Sandals of Avandra (At-will): Shift half my speed. [ ] Essence of the Wisp (At-will): Immediate Reaction as below. [ ] Sandals of Avandra (Encounter): Don't provoke OAs UEoMNT. [ ] Phylactery of Action (Encounter): Reroll saving throw vs certain effects. [ ] Gloves of Astral Quickness (Encounter): Free Action -> Minor Action if not dazed or stunned. [ ] Gloves of Astral Quickness (Encounter): Immediate Interrupt as below. [ ] Belt of the Witch King (Daily): When bloodied, +HP 2x level of unused arcane power. [ ] Ring of Personal Gravity (Daily): Self and adjacent enemies slowed/immobilized. [ ] Folding Astral Skiff (Daily): Unfolds into astral skiff. Immediate Actions (descending priority; only at-wills will react to / target minions) -- When hit, if negates: +3 to Ref and attacks vs Ref UEoMNT (Enc [Gloves of Quickness]) -- When hit, if negates: +4 to all defs against the attack (Enc [Sudden Scales]) -- When hit in 1st turn, if negates: +7 to all defs until end of encounter (Day [Platinum Scales]) -- When hit by area/close attack, if enemy in area: attack also hits enemy (Day [Chaos Link]) -- When hit by a ranged attack: Pull the attacker 2 squares (A-W [Essence of the Wisp]) Soul of the Cosmic Cycle After a rest, choose a phase. Phase must change the first time I am bloodied in an encounter. Phase may change when I use a daily arcane attack power. Phase of the Sun -- Start of Turn: Each adjacent enemy takes 7 fire and radiant damage. -- On-hit with Blazing Starfall or Dragonfrost: Roll a saving throw. Phase of the Moon -- +AC equal to the number of adjacent conscious enemies. -- On-hit with Blazing Starfall or Dragonfrost: Gain concealment UEoMNT. Phase of the Stars -- When an attack misses me, teleport 7 squares as a free action. -- On-hit with Blazing Starfall or Dragonfrost: Become insubstantial UEoMNT or until hit. Champion's Countenance While I'm at max HP, allies who can see me gain +2 to Fort, Ref and Will. Action Point Demon Fury: USoMNT, I and all allies gain +3 to attack rolls and enemies gain +3 to attack rolls against me. Demonskin Tattoo: Resist 10 acid / cold / fire / lightning / thunder until end of encounter. Other Defensive Features Mettle: No damage from missed Fort/Will attack. Greater Armour of Eyes: Do not grant CA for being flanked. Ring of Personal Gravity: Reduce forced movement by 1. Portal Mastery: 1/day, on death, regain half HP and disappear. Reappear on any plane on any permanent teleportation circle whose sigil sequence I have memorized. Other Active Features Mariner L1: While aboard a ship, +2 to skill checks related to life at sea. Mariner L10: Ignore difficult terrain while shifting. War Wizardry: Against allies, arcane spells take -5 to attacks and deal half damage. Superior Will: Roll saving throw against daze/stun at start of turn, even if effect doesn't allow a saving throw. Hero's Poise: On saving throw success, allies within 5 who can see me gains +8 to saving throws USoMNT. Portal Mastery: 1/day, use Linked Portal or Planar Portal with no components. Traveler's Tricks: On natural 18+ attack roll, teleport 5 squares after the attack. Wol fucked around with this message at 09:56 on Jul 13, 2018 |
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Jun 12, 2018 06:45
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Silenna's thoughts: I am loathe to take her tales at their word, knowing as I do the tendency of man to boast and brag. But her achievements are clear enough, and her cosmic travels may give us what we're sorely lacking. I only worry that she might be too reckless in her quest for glory.
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Jun 12, 2018 08:46
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Marcus's thoughts: Finally, someone who understands the power of stories the way I do! We need to get drinks ASAP. And if doing so gets me on one of Sevit's famous ships, all the better.
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Jun 12, 2018 16:32
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Arka's musings on Sevit: Near as I can tell she's among this generation's greatest heroes, as are my other companions, so that bodes well. Born well to do, but I won't hold that against her, neither. The tales I've heard about her adventures among the stars have the taste of a long night downing pints, but the same can be said of me, so maybe she's the real deal too. In one of them she took down a dracolich, so if that's true, she's already in mine and my Lady's graces. I'm inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt, which speaks volumes. She watches a different set of scales (Arka chuckles to herself) than I do, but I think we could be friends all the same. I'll have to see if I can drink her under the table, if we have time after all this is over. Can't pass up the chance to add "Out drank a legendary pirate" to the stories. ---- Arka updates for 24 Character Stuff [1] Retrained some Prime Shot related feats due to party composition (I'll rarely benefit from being nearest) [2] Retrained my level 2, 6 and 10 Utilities (consolidating on a few powers based on changes to how I've approached encounters) Items [1] Swapping out Goblin Totem Great Bow +5 for Bloodiron Greatbow +5 [2] Swapping out Gloaming Hide Armor +4 for Predator's Hide Armor +5 [3] Swapping out Premonition Ring for War Ring (paragon tier) [4] Swapping out Circlet of Indomitably for Ioun Stone of Agility pre:Arka | PDF HP : 145/145 (THP: 00) Passive Insight : 29 Defense Sets : AC/FT/RF/WI Surges : 10/10 ( V:36 ) Passive Perception : 36 1 Base 41/41/40/38 Initiative : +28 Vision : Darkvision 2 Adjacent 43/43/42/40 Speed : 10 (Fly 6) 3 OAs 45/43/42/40 Action Points : [1] At Will Twin Strike Nimble Strike Hunter's Quarry Nature's Mask Encounter [ ] Manticore Spikes [ ] Warding Shot [ ] Pounding Barrage [ ] Guidance of the Past [ ] Combined Fire [ ] Manticore's Volley [ ] Archer's Glory [ ] Guided Shot [ ] Second Wind [ ] Sneak Attack Daily [ ] Attacks on the Run [ ] Confounding Arrows [ ] Unrestrained Aggression [ ] Quarry's Bane [ ] Howling Winds [ ] Oak Skin [ ] Weathered Resilience [ ] Stepping Through the Veil Items: [ ] Raven Queen's Shroud (Encounter, Minor) [ ] Raven Queen's Shroud (Daily, Minor) [ ] Ring of Giants (Daily, Free) [ ] War Ring (Daily, Free) [ ] Boots of Dancing (Daily, Minor) [ ] Bracers of Archery (Daily, Minor) [ ] Unfettered Thieves' Tools (Daily, Standard) RBA: +30; 2d12+25 --- +2 to hit vs. quarry, +3 damage vs. isolated, +4 damage vs. bloodied, +3d8 vs. quarry (once per turn) Crit: +7d10+17 initially, +5d10 at SOMNT Passives: Archer : Can designate 7 Quarries, ignore cover and concealment vs. quarries, crit on 19-20, gain CA vs. Isolated, Deaf, Immob, Slow, Poisoned or Weakened Elusive : +3 defs vs. Quarry hit UEOMNT Slippery : +2 saves vs. immob, restrain, slow, and escape Willful : Saves vs. Daze/Stun at start of turn, do not grant CA when dazed Reserve : Recover an expended encounter power when spending an AP, in addition to other benefits Ghostly : Gain Phasing / Insubstantial when running/charging UEOMNT Timeless : Count as Immortal, Fey, Shapechanger, Magical Beast, Humanoid, Shadow type
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Jun 13, 2018 04:22
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Merritt's thoughts: To sail the seas - the planes themselves! - sounds so exhilarating! I saw much of Faerûn in my duties, but the lands beyond seem quite mysterious. I must admit, I have some envy for the adventures she has had. Her life sounds like a tale Marcus could weave, but I suppose that goes for the rest of us. Someday, I would love to hear her and Marcus exchange stories. Perhaps one day, when this is all done.
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Jun 14, 2018 23:32
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Impression of Sevit: As I grew older, I felt fulfilled in a way that sadly few can understand. If one thing unites all life in the world, it is a desire not to simply be happy, but to be satisfied, to reach a meaning in life in accordance with their values. I thought I had done so. My children were fully grown, their ambitions and dreams added to my own, Sune giving me the good luck to live to meet my grandchildren. I would not call it reckless, but I certainly felt I could afford to risk a bit more. My tenets still bid me to do what good I may and my skill had eclipsed that of other priests, my renown following me with the title Mother Gladness. I would always relish the chance to help the smallest soul I met but my talents demanded a higher responsibility, particularly when it came and made demands. The arrival of the Messemprar Kraken was a disaster unequaled, a manifestation of a dark god's avatar from the depths of the sea. I met Sevit in the calm at the eye of the storm, a fleet of ships volunteering to break through the first wave of invaders rising from the deep. Aboard the Skyfire my task was simply to heal and empower as many warriors as I could, hour after hour. In Sevit I saw beautiful nobility, willingness to sacrifice herself for the good of others. It was my great pleasure to mend her wounds and my continued joy to see her continued brilliance, as a blazing star in the night sky.
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Jun 18, 2018 01:03
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Sevitquote:Gloves of Astral Quickness Arka quote:Cloak of Accelerating Accuracy Meritt quote:Gloves of True Striking Gladys quote:Sune’s Embrace Marcus quote:Belt of Bardic Proficiency Silenna quote:Gloves of the Serpent Look Around You fucked around with this message at 17:15 on Jun 21, 2018 |
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Jun 21, 2018 03:09
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