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These are troubled times. Some simply call them the end of days; others call them the Godless Dusk; still others believe them to be the eve of a great war, the likes of which Noremien has never seen. Not quite three months ago, an eclipse which had eluded the predictions of even the most learned scholars wiped out the sun and plunged all of Noremien into a long darkness, turning day into absolute night for twelve hours. When morning came, the passing of the eclipse coincided with the rising of the sun; but even as the darkness lifted from the world it seeped into the hearts of many, for all over the world, countless men and women of power, be they wizards, sages or priests, found themselves cut off from the mystic energies they'd dedicated their lives to, the powers they could shape and harness at will simply gone, like air no longer exists to a drowning man. There was no rhyme or reason to this cataclysmic loss of arcane and divine power: in some cases, venerable archwizards became unable to work their magic, while their bumbling apprentices retained the ability to cast their lowly cantrips. High clerics and paladins, as well as humble priests who commanded but some minor healing powers, suddenly found themselves bereft of the awesome divine energy formerly invested in them. Research at the Academy of the Lake, the greatest centre of arcane learning in all of Noremien, has been fruitless; those who have become powerless do not appear to be afflicted in any way, but the nature of their immense loss is, by all accounts, indeterminable. What has yet to be proven otherwise is that it is a purely binary state: those who do lose their powers lose them entirely, those who retain them remain unaffected – for the time being, at any rate; it is also a state of utter uncertainty. Since the Aftermath of the Eclipse, as that day has become known, the number of magic-wielders throughout Noremien has been steadily declining, and what used to be a fairly common ability has turned into a commodity that is growing rarer by the day. Even more worrying, however, is that ever since that dark day, the gods have been completely, utterly silent; whereas they used to speak to their faithful followers before, however cryptically, their presence has not been felt or observed in Noremien since, and even those who still wield some power in the name of their deity feel the seeds of doubt growing in their hearts by now. In what has been regarded as a sign of grim portent among the fey residents of this world, the eladrin settlement of Deepwreathe, the only one of its kind to blend over into Noremien, vanished on the day of the Eclipse as well, its former site in the Everleaf now nothing but a large clearing devoid of life, the curtain that let a small part of the Feywild slip through into the mortal world apparently fallen; thus far, the city has shown no signs of manifesting on this plane again. Most recently, rumours of strange new arrivals in Noremien have been making the rounds, of the fabric of the world itself warping and shifting, spewing forth outlandish beasts and dark shapes that roam the countryside for a while, slaying and destroying whom and what they can find, before fading away again. Not three months ago, no one would have put much stock in such tales, but in the wake of the eclipse, there's little that is still regarded as impossible. Some say that the era of magic and gods is coming to an end, that the inhabitants of Noremien will soon be left to their own devices; devices that, if current trends are any indication, will hasten its great decline along. Many have given up hope already – many, but not all. There are still those who are determined to learn more of whatever nameless threat is befalling the world, and ultimately take the fight to it. The world is changing, but its doom is not yet determined. World map, not to scale. It only depicts the major cities and landmarks in Noremien; there are countless smaller settlements etc. It has been exactly 73 days since the Eclipse. With the ranks of able arcanists ever thinning, life in Noremien has changed and continues to change. War is brewing again on the southern continent, the uneasy status quo once upheld by the two kingdoms' evenly matched wizard forces waning in favour of Vaere. Throughout the world, prayers remain unanswered, and justice and order, once upheld primarily by magic and divine means, are deteriorating in many places; likewise, enchantments of a more intriciate nature are becoming more difficult and expensive to sustain, leaving treasuries, strongholds and other magically safeguarded places and individuals more easily assailable. Those still proficient in magic have begun to realize that they are becoming the exception rather than the rule, and many are finding ways of exploiting this to their own advantage – in fact, simply being able to work magic can be a cause for some suspicion these days, warlocks and their occult powers not being the only ones to be eyed warily anymore. Of those mages who are still looking to resolve the crisis rather than profiting from it as much as possible, many have gathered at the Academy of the Lake, where every attempt is being made to learn more about this strange fading of magic from the world. So far, no progress has been made in this matter, but this may be about to change: Ravic Carthaune, in his capacity as the Academy's headmaster and senior member of the Mages' Council, has sent personal messages to some of Noremien's most renowned adventurers, asking them to meet him at the Academy on the last day of the month. Judging from his brief words, the Academy may have finally made some headway in determining the nature of the mysterious loss of magic that has befallen Noremien. A generous reward was mentioned as well, perhaps to help sway those who are not content merely rendering the very world they live in a great service. What exactly this task consists of, Carthaune's message doesn't say; only that it is urgent. Those who want to know more will have to follow his call. I'm recruiting for a D&D 4E paragon game. Paragon tier means your character is, in the loosest sense of the word, a hero. Someone with a reputation. He doesn't (necessarily) have to be a knight in shining armour who slays dragons and saves princesses on a weekly basis, but one way or another, word of your various exploits will have travelled far in the world, whether you like it or not. This can be both a blessing and a curse, as you might find out at some point. Character creation rules: 22 point buy, L11 characters, PHB classes only, unaligned or (L)G. Player characters are among the lucky ones to have retained their arcane/divine powers, although the gods remain silent to them as well. I'm not going to rule out any MM races categorically (except for Warforged), but unless you're confident you can come up with an intriguing concept, I would strongly recommend sticking to the PHB races. Further below are some brief write-ups on how each of these fits into the world. The crunchy details: you get one magic item of 12th, 11th and 10th level each free of charge, as well as 5,000 gold and whatever mundane adventuring gear (PHB p221) you desire, within reason. PHB p29 and DMG p143 contain handy tables showing how many powers, feats and stat bonuses you're entitled to at your level. It can be a bit daunting to make a paragon character from scratch, so do take your time. In terms of backgrounds: heroes, let alone paragon-level heroes, aren't born, they are made. As such, your character has invariably undertaken his or her share of adventures, achieved victories and suffered defeats on the road to paragon-dom, and I would like to see some of these exploits touched on, as well as how the character came to choose the paragon path he/she has taken. Apart from that, the more there is to work with for me in terms of the character's past, the friends and enemies made during years of adventuring, his/her personality and desires etc., the more interesting things will be for everyone involved. The eight races: Dragonborn originated on the Isle of Masos, an island off the north-eastern coast of Utinmar, its otherwise flat expanse dominated by the massive volcano of the same name. Though it has not been active for hundreds of years, the island still bears countless marks of the volcano's past, violent eruptions, its sweeping plains scarred and rent, leaving it a place ill-suited for, but not altogether uncapable of sustaining life. Long accustomed to such living conditions and the need to cooperate in order to survive, dragonborn are hardy and far less divided than other races tend to be, and while initially wary of strangers, a dragonborn generally makes as dependable a companion as anyone could hope for. Obsidian remains the Isle's main export good, it being the only place in Noremien this glass is found. It has even given its name to the only noteworthy settlement of the Isle, as much of a capital as the race of the dragonborn cares to lay claim to; Samal Kolnin, located on a smaller island just offshore, means "City of Black Glass" in Common, even though the city's architecture involves very little of it. There are two dwarven kingdoms in Noremien, one under the Negesians in Vaere and one at the roots of the Shielding Mountains in Utinmar, where also is found the Vale of the Silent, a place sacred to all dwarves where their royalty and worthy fallen are laid to rest. Conducting such funerals is one of the few events where the northern and southern dwarves see eye to eye; otherwise, there is a long-standing animosity between the two realms, a relict of the Great War that divided Noremien a century ago, the atrocities committed on both sides not easily forgotten. One hundred years later, the Vaerian dwarves and their Utinmaran kinsmen usually are polite to one another when they meet, if only barely so, but few of them find it in themselves to overcome the long grudge held by both peoples. Widely renowned for their skills at stonecrafting and blacksmithing, as well as their dependable and resilient nature, dwarves are warmly received guests all over Noremien, and many villages pride themselves on having a dwarven craftsman settling down among them. Outside their two subterranean kingdoms, however, the only actual dwarven settlements tend to be mining towns, though with hobgoblin attacks occuring more frequently, as well as becoming more and more savage, these small settlements find themselved increasingly reliant on hired guards and mercenaries to keep them safe. The eladrin have traditionally been a reclusive people, perhaps on account of the fact that only one of their settlements, named Deepwreathe in the Common tongue, lay close enough to the ethereal border separating Noremien and the Feywild for it to blend over into the mundane world. With Deepwreathe, and thus the only semi-permanent gateway to the Feywild, suddenly gone, any eladrin abroad in Noremien are effectively stranded and forced, to a greater or lesser degree, to mingle with its natives. Eladrin relate best to humans, whose pursuits in learning, arcane or otherwise, tend to match up to those of the Feyborn in extent and dedication; they usually politely look down on most other races, although this attitude is far less prevalent in eladrin who took up residence in Noremien for good rather than only occasionally journeying beyond Deepwreathe. Elves, in contrast, have always felt more at home in the mortal world, where they can both live in Noremien's forests as well as explore the lands beyond the woods' edges at their leisure. Because of this, the eladrin consider them unsophisticated, even primitive in some cases; in return, the elves think of them as aloof and arrogant. There is no hostility between the two kindreds, but they tend to spend little time among one another, though elves at least are far more accepting of other races and are often found travelling abroad, mingling freely with whoever welcomes their company. They are, however, quite defensive of their settlements, and less tolerant of strangers in their proximity these days than they used to be, perhaps understandably so; the Everleaf, in particular, is a dangerous place now, and small gangs of bandits building crude hideouts amidst its soaring trees actually are the least of a traveller's problems now. Half-elves are found all over Noremien, their innate love of being with others leaving few doors barred to them. This is just as well, for they share the wanderlust of their elven parentage as well as the openmindedness of their human side. As such, they don't form exclusive communities of their own, preferring to live among other races and take in as much of their culture and way of life as possible. Generally speaking, halflings are quite content to stay out of the business of the "big folk" where it concerns positions of power, and don't care a great deal for establishing power structures among their own kind, either. They are second only to humans in number and just as widespread, though halflings overall display less of an inclination to settle down for good, or even for a longer time; the joy they take in wandering the world surpasses even that of the elves. Apart from sending a small squad of slingers to aid the forces of Queen Sezarte in the Great War, halflings have never taken much interest in politics – a few ambitious individuals aside – or events in the world at large, and prefer to concern themselves with the simple pleasures of life. The events of the last three months, however, have forced even the halfling race to take note. Humans are easily the most prolific race in Noremien, as well as the most prone to infighting and waging war amongst themselves. Many settlements and virtually all major cities in Noremien were established by humans, though members of any civilized race are generally welcome in them; the same cannot be said for the settlements of most other races, eladrin, elves and dwarves being particularly averse to the notion of outlivers living among them. On the flipside, much of the evil in the world also may be attributed to the human race; especially in such troubled times as these, many humans turn to pure opportunism and seize whatever they can, showing a disregard for their own people no other race can really comprehend. The Great War, too, was ultimately the result of strife between two human factions, though it drew virtually all peoples of Noremien into its maelstrom of destruction and bloodshed. In its aftermath, alliances were and still are a lot slower to form, particularly when there are humans involved, their penchant for turning on one another considered as much of a liability as their hospitality a virtue. Tieflings are a rather rare sight in Noremien. They are not a race or people of their own as such; the infernal curse laid on their ancestors in times forgotten by man has endured throughout countless generations, but whether someone born from an afflicted bloodline actually turns out to be Tainted, as common parlance refers to it, appears to be purely a matter of chance. At any rate, tieflings are born only rarely, but those who are suffer all the more for it; producing Tainted offspring is generally viewed as a great embarrassment to a family, and the Tainted themselves are considered harbingers of ill fortune and prone to evil, even though any specific knowledge of the ancient curse that made them so has been long since lost to the passing aeons. Tieflings are no more inherently evil than humans are, but in a world where much of the populace pities them at best and rejects them at worst, many find it difficult to escape the fates they're cornered into. Recruitment will be open for at least one week. If there are any questions, post here! MMAgCh fucked around with this message at 05:39 on Sep 22, 2018 |
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Aug 24, 2008 03:57
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I'm really interested in playing an apostate cleric - because of the way 4e has cleric powers coming from investiture rather than directly from the god, its possible for a cleric to keep their powers if they violate the tenets of their deity. (PHB says "what you do with your powers once you're ordained is up to you, although if you flagrantly and openly defy your deity's tenets, you quickly earn the enmity of the faithful.") I like the idea of a non-evil cleric of one of the evil gods; maybe he's been on the run, but can finally relax a little now that most of his god's followers have lost their power. I know that this can be kind of cliche, but I'd try to write a story that gives it an interesting twist. Are you cool with such an idea? Would you be willing to work with me on making a divine feat for the evil god?
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Aug 24, 2008 04:27
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Please excuse preliminary bad writing, also, what pantheon does this world use? Note: If permissible, all references to scimitar actually refers to a pirate cutlass Bhalsen Koridon was born under a strange sign. It is said that at the hour of his birth, Mt. Masos trembled at his arrival with a pyrotechnic display grander than any other in recent memory. At the moment of this portent, Bhalsen was donated immediately by his fearful parents to a local cult, hopeful that this portent might signal the grand future of their child and that his might could be put towards good use. They were right, Bhalsen quickly rose in the ranks as a mighty Paladin, unequaled with the blade. Bhalsen took his aged tutors to heart when they expoused the virtues of unity necessary to survive the Dragonborn's harsh homeland, and turned his martial prowess to those who would disrupt the order of his home. Bhalsen's fervant attitude towards law was unequal in his youth, but he soon grew tired of fighting the petty criminal elements on the island. His destiny will be fulfilled, but Masos seemed to be lacking in causes worth undertaking. When Bhalsen heard news of a particularly vicious pack of raiders preying on the trade ships laden with obsidian that frequented the ports, he felt it was a great chance to unfetter himself to the island. Urging the city council to finance a counterattack, Bhalsen quickly set up a small pirate band who would take the fight to the raiders. The campaign was short and brutal, leading his crew with equal parts charisma and horror, Bhalsen quickly dismantled the pirate fleet. But even that was too easy, were these sniveling dogs the greatest foes he would vanquish? Bhalsen continued his crusade on the water, and his fame continued to grow until Bhalsen's name was only whispered by superstitious privateers for fear of his wrath. Bhalsen had the blessing of the gods, he was a champion of order and scourge of evil, he will wipe out all those who would threaten order. That is, until the eclipse. Magic began to fade in the world, and even Bhalsen, chosen of the gods, began to lose touch. The divine voice that mandated he stamp out evil has disappeared entirely. While his power remained, without guiding force of the gods, how can order remain in the world? Refusing to succumb to the notion that the deities have abandoned the world, Bhalsen seeks to restore the connection with the gods lest the world fall into chaos and disorder without their guiding light. Personality: Bhalsen is quite arrogant but respects martial prowess. He usually tries to solve problems by brute force if necessary, and will often rationalize unscrupulous means if it will fulfill what he considers the greater good. He is eager to find out what happened to magic and the gods after the Eclipse and believes it is his destiny to return the world to the status quo. Any sacrifices along the way are preferable to the world remaining in the dark without divine guidance. code:WarpedLichen fucked around with this message at 08:55 on Aug 24, 2008 |
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Aug 24, 2008 05:01
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Looks interesting, will stat up a character shortly. I hope martial classes are okay, my concept is an ex-military human warlord. After being kicked out of the king's guard he took on a number of odd jobs, and ended up becoming the bodyguard for one or more of the mages in the campaign.
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Aug 24, 2008 05:06
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I'm interested in this: I feel like playing a fighter of some sort: concept is a renowned eladrin swordmaster (mistress?), who's made her name since (during?) the Great War and currently serves as the armsmaster at a human court, despite no lack of enemies that would rather a human in the position. I'll probably tweak this background when I stat her in the morning.
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Aug 24, 2008 05:21
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Preliminary sheet up. Fluff coming soon.code:
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Aug 24, 2008 05:25
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I definitely want to play a Warlock, probably star pact. He's generally really arrogant since he figures he's got everything under control with regards to the entity that's granting his powers. However, the magic rending, and the fact that he still has power, is making him paranoid about the ability of his patron to actually control and affect him.
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Aug 24, 2008 05:33
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Looking good so far, and yes, martial classes are of course perfectly all right. Nimlach posted:I'm really interested in playing an apostate cleric - because of the way 4e has cleric powers coming from investiture rather than directly from the god, its possible for a cleric to keep their powers if they violate the tenets of their deity. (PHB says "what you do with your powers once you're ordained is up to you, although if you flagrantly and openly defy your deity's tenets, you quickly earn the enmity of the faithful.") WarpedLichen posted:Acutely aware of the necessity of his own divine magic to keep order upon the waves, he is searching desperately for a way to get it back.  Otherwise you'll need to clarify.
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Aug 24, 2008 06:16
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Question: Are Artificiers allowed? Otherwise, I'll probably make me a fighter or perhaps a Warlock.
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Aug 24, 2008 06:32
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Definitely interested in getting in on this. I'll post a half elf warlord later. An aged hero of the army who's grown disillusioned with his superiors and the ruling class, but leads his men faithfully for the country because it's the only life he's ever known.
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Aug 24, 2008 07:17
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MMAgCh posted:Get what back? His divine magic is still with him, if that's what you mean; it's the connection with his god that doesn't exist anymore. I meant that while his personal divine magic is still there, he feels the need to restore the magic of the world lest it fall into chaos.
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Aug 24, 2008 07:45
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I am working on an Eladrin wizard, who enjoys flashy magic and seeks to restore magic to the world so others can hope to aspire to his brilliance. Bio is not finished. Will add hit and damage for the spells tomorrow.code:TiredDaemon fucked around with this message at 08:26 on Aug 25, 2008 |
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Aug 24, 2008 07:57
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Eradyn Masonwood Eradyn is the last child of Soralna and Hordar Masonwood, proud members of the Masonwood clan. Of note, the Masonwoods have gained a bit of notoriety for being outrageously hardy – some living well into their mid-bicentennial. Due to the fact that Hordar’s father was a renowned leader in during the Great War, they also have a bit of notoriety for being stalwart warriors. It’s not surprising that all of three of Eradyn’s brothers sought work that behooved their skills. The brothers Masonwood worked often as mercenaries, swords for hire, legionnaires, whatever one chooses to call them. Mostly, they defended villagers from roaming bands of brigands, the kind of folk that made a living preying on people who reveled in peace. They were fantastic at what they did. As such, it came as a shock when, a few days after The Elcipse, a messenger informed Eradyn and her family that one of her brothers was not going to return home; his life had been extinguished by a small band of Stonepicks that had been raiding mining encampments. It was an even greater shock when neither of the remaining two brothers returned. For almost a month, the Masonwoods stood in a collective daze. Two of their finest young clerics felled in a senseless battle against a bunch of heartless thieves, and Drierden…many believed that Moradin himself would’ve filled his mug in the afterlife—a paladin of his prowess had not been seen in decades. Why did they take them instead of…instead of her. None of them said it aloud, but Eradyn could feel their contempt. She knew to all of the Masonwoods, even to her parents, she was nothing more than a scalding reminder of what their family used to be. After more than a month of feeling the eyes of burning through her flesh, Eradyn decided that she had had enough. She set out to find Drierden and her brothers. If they were dead, she would bring back their bodies, and if any of them were still alive, she’d drag them by their beards. She left home with nothing more than a note, a shield, and a sword. When the Masonwoods realized she was gone, they assumed she’d never come back. Little did they know that battle would invigorate her more than a werewolf is invigorated by a full moon. She slayed more than her fair share of vagabonds, and when she encountered the Stonepicks, she slaughtered them without mercy. She found one of her brothers face-down in the dirt, lifeless. She found the other bleeding in a ditch, but still salvable. She found Drierden in a cave, hunched in a corner, afraid to feel the sting of another sword and praying that the others would leave before he had to face another foe. Eradyn never told her family the circumstances of the paladin’s rescue—it would have crushed them. Regardless, she never received the respect or adulation that she deserved. The Masonwoods were too ecstatic to have their favored sons back to do so. Even her brothers soon forgot the immeasurable debt that they owed their sister. Worst of all, many of the Masonwoods somehow feel that is Eradyn’s fault why her brothers can no longer communicate with Moradin, as if her intervention had stripped them of their powers. With that in mind, it’s quite understandable why Eradyn would rather adventure than remain with her clan. Perhaps if she can find the reason why the gods have ceased assisting their followers, her clan will accept her once again. Maybe they will finally see that she is just as capable as her goddamned brothers. Most likely not, but Eradyn isn’t going to sit back and do nothing. She will fight with a fortitude that is downright terrifying. She has been known to take blades across her neck without so much as wincing, and her armor has taken shots from foes that have made others collapse to the ground in agony. Eradyn is still relatively young for a dwarf, but the last few months of her life have been, well, interesting, to say the least. She finds it slightly difficult to trust others, given that she can’t even put faith in her own family. However, she has also learned quite quickly that the best way to earn both trust and respect is to fight with unparalleled valiance. It may not have worked for her brothers, but saving someone’s life generally does a fine job of making them like her. Once she’s comfortable with someone, her more jovial disposition finds its way out. From time to time, she’s been known to let loose with some quips, even while standing before some of the most horrible enemies ever seen. It’s slightly disconcerting, to be honest.  code:Aggro fucked around with this message at 04:17 on Aug 26, 2008 |
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Aug 24, 2008 07:57
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THinking of making a archer ranger
Piell fucked around with this message at 17:02 on Aug 24, 2008 |
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Aug 24, 2008 15:54
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Taldrel Darlhunt was a simple man. His primary concerns throughout the day relatively small compared others - a warm bed, good food, and the few responsibilities of his office. Taldrel was the Niemund city guard captain in charge of the Strand, Niemund's posh merchant district. It was a relatively simple job keeping order in that part of the city - fat merchants and young nobles with too much coin didn't cause the guard much trouble. Like every city, there was crime, yes, and Taldrel dealt with it in accordance with the law, but overall it was a fairly cushy job. He had gotten to know most of the wealthier merchants and the parents of some of the more raucous nobles, and was well liked. He felt a personal presence on the streets fostered respect for the law and her enforcers. Taldrel had not always had so easy a job. He had worked his way up through the ranks from wet-eared recruit, proving himself a capable leader over several decades in the guard. His current position was a recent promotion, a reward for his service to the city. For three years Taldrel had lead a small group of undercover guards in an investigation into the city's drug trade. The investigation was wrapped up several months ago, and they had gotten their man - a Niemund native called Aled Cerlori. Cerlori had been trafficking opium up and down the Utinmar coast for years and had a well established crime network. He was suspected of being involved in several unsolved murders over the past ten years, but the only thing they could pin on him was the (rather substantial) trafficking charge. Cerlori was in jail and wouldn't see the light of day and Taldrel had been rewarded for his final field assignment with a new job with higher pay and a new suit of ornate chainmail. He certainly looked the part. In some ways he was already bored with his new administrative position. He took an interest in his men's duties, keeping the city as safe as possible, but he couldn't exactly go out on patrol with them. He missed the old days, leading a few guardsmen into the slums to break up a gang of robbers and thugs. There was nothing quite as satisfying as cracking some skulls and hauling the guilty off to await trial. No more of that, unfortunately. On top of the tedium of signing papers, Taldrel's position came with a challenge he hadn't entirely anticipated: politics. As one of the city's captains, he was expected to advise the city council on various security matters, and with war looming, everyone was on edge. He did the best he could, but he'd rather be leading the charge against a mob of thugs, or better yet, an array of troops. Not that he wished for war. He enjoyed the combat, that was all. He was a fighter and a leader, not a politician. But Taldrel was being given a reprieve from his new position. The city council had received a letter from a Ravic Carthaune, apparently some sort of wizard leader, asking for help researching the eclipse a few months back. The eclipse hadn't really effected him, but from what gathered from the council, magic had gone all to poo poo. The nobles were in a tizzy because all of our mages were losing their abilities while Vaere's were unaffected, so the rumors went, and with war looming, Taldrel understood their unease. As for why they were sending him, he had no idea - he was no wizard or researcher, but they had already arranged for an acting captain and sent him on his way. He wasn't one to question his orders, but he had to wonder. Personality: Taldrel is a man of few words, but people listen when he speaks. A cunning an charismatic leader, he expects only the best from those around him. Those who disappoint him don't remain in his service for long, but those who remain are fiercely protected. He has seen his fair share of combat and retains his cool demeanor under the most trying circumstances. He is respectful and polite, but wary of strangers.  code:Clanpot Shake fucked around with this message at 03:00 on Sep 3, 2008 |
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Aug 24, 2008 16:32
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Paragon game?  Going to try a spell cleric Radiant Servant of Pelor, who has discovered that one rapidly rises up the church hierarchy in these sorts of conditions. The loss of magical communication and threat of zombie apocalypse has unnerved the cleric, so he or she swiped Carthaune's message and headed out to find out what happened, figuring the highest ranking priest at the temple was needed there.
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Aug 24, 2008 16:48
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Are you REALLY adamant about no warforged? Reading your OP had me thinking of making a warforged that is actually an artificial body housing the soul of an ancient wizard who didn't want to die when magic died. However, after transferring his soul to his new body, he was completely severed from any magical ability, so now he has to make his way with being a 'mundane' fighter or warlord.
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Aug 24, 2008 16:55
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The Transhumanist posted:Question: Are Artificiers allowed? Otherwise, I'll probably make me a fighter or perhaps a Warlock. WarpedLichen posted:I meant that while his personal divine magic is still there, he feels the need to restore the magic of the world lest it fall into chaos.  Yes, of course. That is why I shouldn't be posting at half past seven in the morning.Piell posted:THinking of making a ranger EDIT hasturhasturhastur posted:Are you REALLY adamant about no warforged? MMAgCh fucked around with this message at 20:10 on Aug 25, 2008 |
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Aug 24, 2008 16:56
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Character and background below. Is there any more you can tell us about the Great War as it relates to the kingdoms you name on the map? It could help a little with my fluff. I'm not married to the idea of Landra having fought in it, so if you have issues with that feel free to nix it.code:Hosts of feyborn issued from the Everleaf to support Utinmar and Queen Sezarte during the Great War, and Landra was among them, barely out of Deepwreathe's war college where she had shown but a spark of the potential that would emerge. Throwing herself fully into the movement warfare favoured by her kin, she fought well over the bloody seasons, especially distinguishing herself during the boarding actions that accompanied the battles in the Wretched Sea. She survived it all, remarkable in itself, and emerged from the other end of the war as not only a skilled and dangerous combatant, but a renowned hero in Utinmar, earning the sobriquet "the Cold Wind" for her mobility and deadliness. Where many of her kindred retreated back to their forest homes, she stayed amongst the humans (a choice that many in Deepwreathe still view uncharitably), initially serving Queen Sezarte in Niemund as a sworn sword and courtier, out of personal respect and gratitude for the honours bestowed on her. The racial tensions that served to inflame the Great War were by no means extinguished by Sezarte's victory, and Landra, as some sort of living symbol of Aresmir's grievance, made her fair share of enemies among nobles resenting such a visible fey influence at Sezarte's court. The less subtle of these enemies fell at her feet in duels, the more subtle nursed their grudges, protected by law and political necessity, but some among both sets have passed the grudges on like treasured heirlooms to their children, even down to the present day. After Sezarte's death, Landra's role at the court varied and generally diminished, until, twenty years ago and just before the ascension of the current ruler of Utinmar, she retreated westward to take up residence in Mitback, where she has become a fixture, whether training some of the more daring of the city's youth in her style of combat, or riding out to suppress bandit groups and worse hiding in the nearby Everleaf, or returning from the odd awkward visit to Deepwreathe, or going forth to the aid of other causes she approves of...like the Academy, to whose aid she rides today. Appareance/Personality: Landra is a tall, willowy creature with loosely worn white hair, who relies more on speed and aggression than sheer toughness to finish fights in her favour. A very flamboyant and prideful sort, she delights in both sides (the glory and the enmity) of the renown she has earned in Utinmar, enjoys the luxury she has earned through her career in the form of a beautifully-appointed house and fine clothing, and is happy at any opportunity to add to the above through decisive, often dramatic, action. Like many eladrin, she is given to taking long views of events, both forward and backward, but once her plans are made she acts with alacrity. Her relations to her homeland are somewhat more complicated: many there view her decision to remain outside as a mere chase after glory, but she sees it slightly differently, as one more way to demonstrate and sustain the friendship between the feyborn and the people of Utinmar, and help prevent another outbreak like the Great War. Just below the threat the Eclipse and associated oddities presents to the world at large, she aims to unravel this mystery for one other reason: to restore the tie of Deepwreathe and the Feywild to the world, and demonstrate to them that she has not forgotten where she came from. Perhaps then it will be easier to go home. Dallan Invictus fucked around with this message at 03:53 on Sep 3, 2008 |
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Aug 24, 2008 17:16
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What can you tell us about Carthaune? Is he paragon-level like ourselves, or more archmage inclined? Wonder if it's possible for any wizards to come from the Academy of the Lake. Also, any possibility that any members of the party have worked with each other beforehand?
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Aug 24, 2008 17:57
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Withdrawing from this, I don't have enough time.
Piell fucked around with this message at 13:24 on Aug 26, 2008 |
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Aug 24, 2008 18:36
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Think I managed to get the mechanics part down. Appearance, personality, and biography to come. If anyone wants to carpool to the Academy of the Lake, feel free to join up. If possible, Chaedia isn't taking the direct route, in favor of finding people she's worked with/heard of before to get help and possibly see if they know anything. Chaedia is a wiry elven female, 136 years old, her once-brown hair darkened to black with age. Perhaps her most notable feature is her unwavering gaze, her blue eyes speaking of a steadfast resolve forged over the past century. Chaedia is old enough to remember the Great War, the battles she took part in while only a novice. She remembers entering the war, fighting to defend the rightful place of a ruler whose enemies would run rampant over the world if left unchecked. She remembers the months of fighting, confusion, and despair, the battle-scarred lands and the constant tug of allegiances. But though her faith in individuals may have wavered, what never faltered was her belief in the power to change things. Exiting the war, her life became one of cycles. She'd travel the world, filling the credo of bringing light to the darkness, aiding troubled communities and helping to build new ones after driving the shadows away. She'd then settle down or up to years at a time, building, teaching, healing, learning, befriending. Eventually, she'd feel an increasingly irrepressible sensation of being needed elsewhere, causing her to begin the cycle anew. Her travels have taken her to many places, leaving both friends and foes behind her. She has made a point of having good relations with her fellow clerics, but far more interesting relationships with her family. Decades ago in one of her earlier cycles, she became enamored of a fellow elf, their short-lived romance leaving her with a child. The unique challenges of raising the child while attempting to perform her duties were enough that when she settled down with a human years later, she only relocated the family once in twenty years, a personal record. But with her children grown, her commitment to her duty took over, and she once more set off for parts unknown. Aside from perhaps estranging her family members, her dedication to Pelor has left her with true enemies as well. Though she makes every attempt to uphold the tenements of kindness, mercy and compassion, she has little patience for what she sees as the predators of the innocent. She is ruthless when dealing with the creations of Orcus, with a particular hatred for vampires and their ability to enslave others, body and soul. The feeling is likely mutual, especially for the members of the Black Haven. In battle, she bears no weapon, trusting instead in the power invested in her. To do otherwise would be to doubt the strength Pelor has given to her. Her style is unusual, more of a stylized mediative ritual than the sharp bursts of power and prayer other clerics may demonstrate. Closing her hands and extending the first two fingers, she traces paths in circling gestures, feeling the flow of power around her before releasing it in a jabbing lance or a descending cascade of light and power. Heat and light have always been important to her, the embodiment of the sun's greatest gifts to the world. She has devoted herself to mastering these gifts, to use them to bring hope and life to the darkest corners of the world, to embody the principles with every fiber of her being until it is as natural as breathing. She prefers to meditate outdoors or by a window whenever possible, basking in the warmth, the feeling of security and strength. Since the Aftermath of the Eclipse, these meditations have become more important than ever. Her own investigations have revealed nothing, leaving her with her faith alone. She is adamant that the unnerving silence is by no means definitive, but a product of some external intervention. Just as an eclipse is the result of the moon casting its shadow upon the lands, so too must the Aftermath be some form of shadow upon magic itself. The way it strikes followers both arcane and divine, and the way that some retain their abilities convinced her that the neither permanent nor irreversible. In times of doubt, Pelor's Holy Lantern reassures her that the gods are not gone, merely hidden from view, and the light serves as a promise that they will return as inevitably as the sun. It is the interference that must be dealt with. The cost of the interference has been remarkably steep. From the high priest down to neophytes, the severing has struck randomly and frequently. While the actual hierarchy of the church hasn't changed a great deal, Chaedia has realized that the number of servants of Pelor capable of wielding more power can likely be counted on one hand. To make matters worse, she is likely the last of the clergy capable of wielding Pelor's most resplendent gift to its fullest. Ravic Carthaune's message is a surprise, but not an inconceivable one. Her few magical superiors are scattered across the world fighting to keep the light of justice alive (no matter what rumors may suggest), leaving Chaedia as one of the only ones with both the ability and opportunity to make a difference. Not since the Aurorean Campaign has she been in such an important position. If High Mage Ravic Carthaune had discovered something and asked for her help in changing the world, there was no reason to possibly reject him. The meeting at the end of the month gave her time- time she would instead use to the fullest, riding across the countryside looking for old friends, acquaintances and rivals, anyone she could think of who might possess the strength and skill enough to make a difference in these trying times. She would help restore the world to its rightful state, even if she had to drag the gods back herself. code:LightWarden fucked around with this message at 03:20 on Aug 29, 2008 |
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Aug 24, 2008 19:41
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Gonna push out a Tiefling Paladin/Hospitaler.
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Aug 24, 2008 22:12
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 In his youth, karack, later to be called Sharpfang, was a footsoldier in the Obsidian guard, joining as a way to escape the drudgery of the obsidian mines and feed his lust for adventure. Quickly tiring of the relitively sedate city guard duty, the headstrong Karack requested transfer to one of the badland patrols, where he quickly became known for his recklesness in combat and willingness to close with the enemy at all costs, it was during this time that he also discarded his guard shield and developed his unorthodox two bladed fighting style. Like most badlands patrols, his unit encountered and fought many battles against all manner of foes, ranging from bandits and cave goblin incursions, to mighty beasts. It was during his defence of a small Masos village from a rampaging goblin tribe that he first made a name for himself and found his true calling. Dispite most of his unit, including his captain, being laid low by the foul goblins, he and the few survivors chased the green skins back to their mountain cave and slaughtered them all. Upon his return to the village, head of the goblin chieftan in hand, he was hailed as a hero by the villagers. After that, fame followed him wherever he went, but more and more he found himself drawn into the politics surrounding the guard's interactions with the local lords. Local dignataries wanted to meet the hero of the badlands, and his military superiors were more than happy to capitalise on Karack's celebrity. Growing weary of the constant politicing he was being dragged into, and becoming more and more disillusioned with a military life that consisted more of social events than actual military matters, he left the service of the guard and headed out into the wilderness to seek adventure on his own. Persistant rumors of a vilont confrontation between karack and the head of the Samal Kolnin guard also hint as to the reason for karack's rapid departure, to which credence is lent by the fact that he has never returned to the city in all the ensuing time. For the past few years, karack has traveled the remotest and most dangerous frontiers of Noremien, and tales abound of his exploits, from a caravan being saved from attack by the last minute appearance of karack, or of the Dragonborn appearing in a city with another fabulous treasure or carcas of a mighty beast. Karack has ranged across the bredth of noremien in search of challenge and adventure, and is at home in the wilds of the untamed wilderness as in the depths of an ancient dungeon, seeking lost treasure and fabulous wealth. At the time of the Eclipse, Karack was in the Utinmar wilderness, tracking down rumours of a long buried Dwarven treasure trove and has only recently returned to Niemund when the mysterious stranger tracked him down in a tavern baring the academy engraved letter. Karack is a taciturn and dour induvidual, although he becomes much more animated in the company of friends. When he has a target or quarry, he will persue it with single minded intent, often to the detriment of the larger goal. Age and his time in the wilderness has taught him restraint and wisdom though, and he is much more mindful of how his actions effect others now. He always travels with his two mighty swords sheathed at his back and often with a companion or two, but never the same for any length of time. karack lent over the gunwales of the boat carrying him to the island of the academy, paying the incessant drizzle no mind, and eventually spotted the dock apprering out of the gloom. Even having come this far, he was still uneasy with the summons, and his instinctual mistrust of authority even now made him yearn to order the captain to turn his craft around and return to Mitback. He'd been instantly wary of the shifty looking fellow who'd approached him in a tavern in Winzen, and had been prepared for anything from the scoundral, well, almost anything, the expensive looking scroll he'd produced and handed wordlessly to karack had certainly cought him off guard. He'd waited till he got back to his room in the inn before opening the scroll, and it's contents nad summons had been incredible. Even with the official seal binding the parchment and glowing with eldritch light, he almost hadn't come. His natural distrust of authority was only hightened by the mark of the most select institute of the land, and the feeling that being drawn into the affairs of the acadamy of the lake could bring nought but misfortune for one such as he. What eventually pursuaded him was the mention of fel and otherworldly creatures in the letter, and the striking simelarity to the grotesque.....thing that had cornered and almost killed him deep underground in an ancient burial crypt. The speed and ferocity of the thing had been phenomenal, unnatural even, and if, as the missive implied, more of these were abroad in Noremien, it behove him to at least see what aid he could offer. Making sure his weapons and equipement were all secured about his person, he jumped from the railing onto the deaing of the dock, landing with a heavy thump and the clatter of metal. Already aproaching from the landward end of the dock was a figure in the robes of an acadamy initiate, looking slightly bedraggled in the drizzle but intent all the same, and he seemed to be heading for Karack. "Time to see what I've got myself in for it seems" he thinks, striding purposfully towards the hurrying messenger. Male Dragonborn Ranger / Fighter / Pit fighter Level 11 Alignment: Good Deity: Kord Strength 21 (+5) Constitution 13 (+1) Dexterity 13 (+1) Intelligence 11 (+0) Wisdom 19 (+4) Charisma 11 (+0) Height: 6' 6" Weight: 280 lb Scales: Bronze Eyes: Red Hair: None Age: 30 Maximum Hit Points: 85 [includes toughness] Bloodied: 42 Surge Value: 22 [includes draconic heritage] Surges / Day: 9 [includes constitution modifier] [includes Battlehoned] Size: Medium Speed: 5 squares [armour] Vision: Normal Initiative: 1d20 +6 = + 5 [half level] + 1 [dexterity] Base Strength Attack: 1d20 +10= + 5 [half level] + 5 [strength] Base Dexterity Attack: 1d20 +6 = + 5 [half level] + 1 [dexterity] Base Constitution Attack: 1d20 +6 = + 5 [half level] + 1 [constitution] Base Intelligence Attack: 1d20 +5 = + 5 [half level] + 0 [intelligence] Base Wisdom Attack: 1d20 +9 = + 5 [half level] + 4 [wisdom] Base Charisma Attack: 1d20 +5 = + 5 [half level] + 0 [charisma] Armor Class: 26 = 10 + 5 [half level] + 7 [scale] + 1 [armor optimization] +2 [enchanted] + 1 [Feat] Fortitude Defense: 23 = 10 + 5 [half level] + 1 [ranger] + 5 [strength] +2 [enchantment] Reflex Defense: 19 = 10 + 5 [half level] + 1 [ranger] + 1 [dexterity] +2 [enchantment] Will Defense: 21 = 10 + 5 [half level] + 4 [wisdom] +2 [enchantment] Attacks: Basic attack (Vicious Bastard Sword +3): (+3 prof +5 STR +5 lvl +1 Feat +3 item) = +17 v. AC (+18 main hand), 1d10+9 dmg Ranged attack (Longbow): (+2 prof +1 DEX +5 lvl) = +8 v. AC, 1d10+4 dmg Languages: Common; Draconic; Skills: Acrobatics: +11 = 1 [dexterity] + 5 [half level] + 5 [class training] Arcana: +5 = 0 [intelligence] + 5 [half level] Athletics: +15 = 5 [strength] + 5 [half level] + 5 [class training] Bluff: +5 = 0 [charisma] + 5 [half level] Diplomacy: +5 = 0 [charisma] + 5 [half level] Dungeoneering: +14 = 4 [wisdom] + 5 [half level] + 5 [class training] Endurance: +6 = 1 [constitution] + 5 [half level] Heal: +14 = 4 [wisdom] + 5 [half level] + 5 [multiclass training] History: +7 = 0 [intelligence] + 5 [half level] + 2 [Dragonborn] Insight: +9 = 4 [wisdom] + 5 [half level] Intimidate: +7 = 0 [charisma] + 5 [half level] + 2 [Dragonborn] Nature: +14 = 4 [wisdom] + 5 [half level] + 5 [class training] Perception: +14 = 4 [wisdom] + 5 [half level] + 5 [class training] Religion: +5 = 0 [intelligence] + 5 [half level] Stealth: +6 = 1 [dexterity] + 5 [half level] Streetwise: +5 = 0 [charisma] + 5 [half level] Thievery: +6 = 1 [dexterity] + 5 [half level] Dragonborn * +2 Strength, +2 Charisma (already included) * +2 History, +2 Intimidate (already included) * Dragonborn Fury (when bloodied, +1 on attacks) * Dragonborn Heritage (healing surge includes constitution bonus) * Dragon Breath (see encounter powers below) Ranger * This ranger chose the two-blade style. This gives the equivalent of the toughness feat [not listed above]. * Hunter's Quarry -- bonus damage 2d6 [minor action] * Prime Shot Pit Fighter * Armor Optimization [Level 11] * Extra Damage Action [Level 11] Feats: Weapon Proficiency -- Bastard Sword Two Weapon Defense Two Weapon Fighting Weapon Focus -- Heavy Blade* Multiclass Fighter -- One-Handed Armor Proficiency -- Chainmail Armor Proficiency -- Scale *Once per encounter, free action, +1 to the next attack made with 1h weapony. Whether the attack hits or misses, you mark the target until the end of your next turn. Powers: At-Will: Hit and Run: One creature Standard: Str. V. AC, 1[W]+str dmg, If you move in the same turn after this attack, leaving the first square adjacent to the target does not provoke an opportunity attack from the target. Twin Strike: One or two creatures. Standard: Str. V. AC (melee, main + off weapon)or Dex V. AC (ranged) 1[W] dam. per attack Encounter Powers: Dragon Breath, Fire [Dragonborn] minor action: Close blast 3 Str+4 V. Reflex 2d6+1 fire dam. Two Fanged Strike [Level 1]: One creature. Standard: Str V. AC or Dex V. AC 1[W]+Str (melee) or 1[W]+Dex (ranged) per attack. If both attacks hit deal +wis damage. Unbalancing Parry [Level 2 Utility] immediate reaction: enemy misses you with melee, slide enemy 1 sq adjacent + gain combat advantage till end of next turn. Disruptive Strike: [Level 3] immediate interupt: you or an ally is attacked. Str V. AC (melee) or Dex V. AC (ranged) 1[W]+str (melee) or 1[W]+Dex (ranged) and target has -(3+Wis) to attack for triggering attack Weave Through the Fray [Level 6 Utility] immediate interrupt: An enemy moves next to you. Shift Wis squares Claws of the Griffon [Level 7]: One or two creatures. Standard: Str V. AC, Two attacks. 2[W]+Str (main) and 1[W]+Str (off-hand) All Bets Are Off[Level 11]: One Creature. Standard: Str V. AC 2[W]+Str.Secondary Attack: Str+2 V. AC 1d6+Str, the target is dazed until the end of your next turn. Daily Powers: Jaws of the Wolf [Level 1] One creature Standard: Str V. AC, two attacks 2[W]+Str Miss: Half damage per attack. Two Wolf Pounce [Level 5]: Special: You can shift 2 squares before making this attack. Primary Target: One creature Attack: Strength vs. AC, two attacks (main weapon and offhand weapon) Hit: 2[W] + Strength modifier damage (main weapon) and 1[W] + Strength modifier damage (off-hand weapon). Effect: After attacking the primary target, you can shift 2 squares and make a secondary attack. Secondary Target: One creature other than the primary target Secondary Attack: Strength vs. AC (off-hand weapon) Hit: 2[W] damage (off-hand weapon). Attacks on the Run [Level 9] One or two creatures Standard: You can move your speed. At any point during your move, you can make two Str V. AC (melee) or two Dex V. AC attacks (ranged).. 3[W]+Str (melee) or 3[W]+Dex (ranged) per attack. Miss: Half damage per attack. Open the Range [Level 10 Utility] immediate interrupt: enemy moves adjacent to you Shift 1 square, then move 1+Wis. Can't end adjacent to trigger. karack Sharpfang's Equipment: Vicious +3 bastard Sword (l12, 6lb) Magic +3 bastard Sword (L11, 6lb) barkskin +2 Scale Armor (l10, 45lb) Amulet of false Life +2 (l9, 4,200gp) Longbow: (3lb 30gp) Standard Adventurer's Kit: 15gp Quiver with 30 arrows: 1gp Everburning Torch: 50gp Climbers Kit: 2gp journeybread: 50gp 652 gp Edit: changed up the character a bit to better fit my idea of an ex military andevturer, rather than an out and out ranger. Joe_Richter fucked around with this message at 17:24 on Sep 1, 2008 |
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Aug 24, 2008 22:18
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Making up a rogue multiclass wizard. Once master illusionist thief/adventurer that has lost most of his arcane powers since the Eclipse. Edit: Questions to anyone. When taking the power swap feats, can you only take each type once? or can you take the utility one twice for example? When swapping powers for wizard daily/utility, do you gain two of those powers and need to prepare one like a "real" wizard? HawkedMatter fucked around with this message at 23:28 on Aug 24, 2008 |
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Aug 24, 2008 22:57
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Apparently, if you can take a feat more than once, it will say you can do so. You can juke around the spell you got with the feat, however. Since the "multiple spell choices per slot" seems to be a product of the "spellbook" class feature, it looks as though you'd only get to use it if there was a feat that granted you the spellbook feature. It looks like the answer is "no" on both counts.
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Aug 24, 2008 23:39
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For Artificer, what about Paragon paths? Can I just use a Wizard one, or should I take the Wizard Multi-class feat? Doesn't make a huge difference either way. Edit: Meh, will just multi-class it up. Edit 2: Eh, changed my mind. Artificer is just too narrow as it stands. Warlock ho! The Transhumanist fucked around with this message at 01:58 on Aug 25, 2008 |
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Aug 25, 2008 00:12
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Still messing around with feats and power swaps. Considering going multiclass paragon instead of infiltrator, let me know if all this meshes with setting. Also, I used some of the DnD insider illusionist powers from Dragon, can post link if needed. The southern coasts of Utinmar played home to most of Rence's early adventuring career. He found a liking to travelling acros the coast taking up whatever small jobs or personal quests he came upon and gained some small renown for his combination of martial and arcane ability. This renown was what lead him to be recruited to Saaran as a mercenary of sorts. In the wake of the Great War, Saaran had claimed its independence but as of late tensions had raised. The call that Rence answered was for a small group of covert operators. For several years, he trained with this group, increasing his skills in the art of stealth. The majority of the tasks involved spying, placement of scrying objects, and the occasional theft. The group was extremely successful but Rence grew weary of the growing politics surrounding the situation and one last operation provided itself as an omen to move on. It was an operation to take place across the border in Vaere, nothing out of the place save for the location; Daggard Keep. All seemed well until they had returned to Saaran where some higher-ups seemed extremely worried of scrying; Rence took his leave. Wanting escape from the political situation, Rence travelled far to the north in Genvegr where he can be found in Dorn most of the time. He has gained quite a reputation there as one who frequently takes on adventuring requests from locals, such as a missing child, or quests from the city guard, like the recent tribe of goblins harrassing the town. He takes particular joy in accompanying foreign groups on quests as a guide or just extra help to more exotic locales. The recent Eclipse has made Rence all the more busy, both making his remaining arcane powers more rare as well as the apparent increase or advancement of dangers out in the wilds. To answer the call of the Academy was a tough decision to make, balancing the help Rence could no longer provide to the area in this time of need with the chance to end whatever was causing the trouble. As far as enemies/allies, only some higher ranking officials of Saaran (and possibly Vaere as enemies) would know of Rence. However, around Dorn he has made quite a name for himself as well as many allies as those he has helped and the city guard. Enemies in the area could comprise of any group he has thwarted plans of or ancient temples/ruins he has adventured into. code:HawkedMatter fucked around with this message at 17:58 on Aug 26, 2008 |
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Aug 25, 2008 02:03
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I am deciding between halfling two blade ranger, or a paladin/warlock multiclass of some sort.
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Aug 25, 2008 03:05
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The young woman was destined to something greater, there was no more hope of her becoming a farmers daughter then there was of her being content with the world of her village and it's surroundings. Growing up north of Niemund, near the old forests, Annetta always was fascinated by those deep woods. Tales and admonishments would keep her away only a short while. It was not however till she was older and better at sneaking out undetected that she managed to get herself a long spell of time alone, quickly getting lost. Drawn ever deeper into the woods, rapt wonder on her face and a sharp knife in her hand, she let her curiosity drive her onwards. It was here, in the green lit depths of the Elderwood, she found the Feyspirit. Long had it remained just barely outside the realm of mortals, it's hunger for news, stories and tales from beyond keeping it so close that Annetta could even see it when she finally approached it. Drawn in by the fey spirit for a long week as she spoke of everything she knew, interspersed only rarely for the basic mortal necessities of life, Annetta shared everything she knew with the spirit. Her knowledge of the Great War, of the world beyond and what little she knew. An exchange then was made, the spirit would provide her with powers of all sorts, as much as her frame could endure. All she had to do then, was to find out more and more for the spirit, to give it as complete a history of the world beyond the woods as she could. It was a few months later that she realized there was in fact a price to this. Warlocks, she had found out at the same time she was one, were not welcomed much in larger society. In fact, they were down right hunted in some places. It came to her realization then that discretion was the better part of staying alive. So until the Eclipse, she rarely exercised her powers, and never the more showy ones in public. She would instead use her wits and charm to quickly wend her way through life, amassing a small fortune which she just as quickly spent on books of old lore and of modern arcana. The arcane, and her odd and twisted way of controlling it, fascinated her. A natural intellect of no small capability, with wealth and knowledge at her fingertips, she had caught her patrons hunger for knowledge. Annetta was, in her own way, one of the lucky ones. One who still held her powers. Her connection to the Fey was severed, true enough. She could no more call upon her patron then she could flap her arms and fly to the moon. But she could still draw upon the powers she had, and indeed, as time wore on she found she could even expand on those. Where once she hid herself beyond charm and wit, she now openly utilizes her power, partially in the hopes of getting greater power in of itself, and partly to prove to the world that she is not some monster the tales of Warlocks make them out to be. She is in control of her powers. The tales of the Fey madness have not claimed her, she is certain of this. The Academy of the Lake, with their call to those who would call themselves adventurers has brought the young Warlock out, the promise of reward interesting her just as much as the prospect of showing those stodgy mages just what one can do with a differing approach to magic. While she'd been known as something of a charismatic solver of problems in and around Niemund, it wasn't until after the Eclipse that her powers and capability became known. Following her single handed defense of the village of Piedmont against a raider group taking advantage of the chaos, she had quickly developed a guarded respect by those in the area. Every now and then, the plainly dressed red headed woman would enter a town or village suffering depredations of others, and would take care of the problem, some times with others, some times alone. Annetta has one major, perhaps fatal, flaw. Pride. She is proud of what she has accomplished, her pact having been nothing for her part in exchange for great power. Or so she thinks at least. The Eclipse, and the subsequent loss of contact with her Patron, has her convinced that her powers can come without the believed costs. That she can gain her power perhaps without direct intervention of another entity. She has a theory on this. Now she wants to prove it to the world. Annetta would perhaps be considered good by some, but her preoccupation with expanding her powers and her hunger for glory leave a lingering shadow. She does try at least to do no harm that is not called for. ------------ Sitting cross legged with her back reclining against the tree, Annetta watched the clouds drift past as dusk slowly approached. A sigh, shaking her head as she opened her pack, pulling out the crumpled, much abused note. She was frankly fascinated with it. From Ravic Carthaune himself to herself. Her status was not left in question, she would be there on the Mages' sufferance, the slightest hint of madness or twisted arts and she would find herself dead or worse. Still, she felt this was her best chance to truly prove herself. To cast off the shackles of dread superstition. "Time to go I suppose then, it's only a weeks journey to the Academy on the Lake," she said, speaking to empty air, forgetting that her Patron could no longer hear her momentarily. A shake of her head then as she was off, wandering off into the setting sun to find somewhere safer to sleep the night. She was still more at home in the presence of people then she was the wild. ------------ Days of long travel had put the miles and her little shreds of fame well behind her. Her short time at the Academy had been... trying. To say the least. Days of being ignored, if she was lucky, had tried at her patience. But she remained calm, cooly polite to even the most pigheaded students. Content with the knowledge that if she was a lesser person, they would be clawing their eyes bloodily from their sockets, trying to put out the fires of madness in their brain. Finally Ravic had met her, in private, after a lengthy journey to somewhere nowhere near anywhere as far from the . She was almost sure he'd have put a bag over her head, but finally had stopped, the two of them standing in a small alchemical herb garden. Annetta ran her hands along the branches of a small tree, before pulling it back with a yelp of pain, dozens of tiny little splinters in her finger. Laughing a bit, Ravic shook his head. "Fortunately for you it's merely prickly and not poisonous. You want to come on this venture then? You claim to be a good Warlock. You claim to have no corruption from your master. You claim many things young girl, but proof on the other hand is few and far between. There are, ahh, whispers of your deeds out around Niemund. But little else. Just suddenly, after the Eclipse, you are this wonderful champion from out of nowhere." Ravic seemed clearly unimpressed this whole time, and his speech just made this further evident. "Your kind however have this consistent tendency towards murder, hatred of all living things and a lust for power." "Sir, sir. Please, just let me a moment. I am aware of my, ah... precedents unfortunate, strange, shameful or otherwise heinous actions. I am aware of that all too well. Salvergin the Fell died by my own hands, but not after his sacrificing nearly half the village of Durold, so no, do not think to lecture me on this," Annetta interrupted, speaking suddenly from the heart. "I may not hold for the more sedate paces of Wizardly study, I do however hold for controlling what I do have. You have not heard of me before the Eclipse? That is simply because after the Eclipse, I could have continued as I had, the wealthy silver tongued merchant, trading in books. But instead, I stepped up, I offered my services and I was rebuked. So, I just simply gave them. I protected those who could not protect themselves. What more could you ask of me?" Ravic paused, stunned at her audacity as much as her conviction, saying nothing, a grim look on his face. Annetta shrugged slightly, pulling spines from her finger tips. "Besides, how much choice do you have? I've not really seen many beating down your doors to take on your summons. Fewer who appear to bathe."  Click here for the full 550x733 image. code:The Transhumanist fucked around with this message at 06:09 on Sep 1, 2008 |
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Aug 25, 2008 03:49
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Okay, here's the stats for my guy, will post fluff tomorrow.code:Food Court Druid fucked around with this message at 04:09 on Aug 25, 2008 |
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Aug 25, 2008 03:59
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Sorry it took me so long to get back to this thread, I have spells of being really slow sometimes.Dallan Invictus posted:I have the char statted up below, I'll write the background today or tomorrow. Is there any more you can tell us about the Great War as it relates to the kingdoms you name on the map? It could help a little with my fluff. I'm not married to the idea of Landra having fought in it, so if you have issues with that feel free to nix it. All of Noremien thus was swept up in what later became known as the Great War. New alliances were forged, and old ones called upon again; only the dragonborn did not become involved, a few mercenaries aside, but all others took sides to a greater or lesser degree. The southern dwarves, amongst whom the Stonepick clan was most prevalent, fought for Vaere, coveting the riches that lay beneath the Shielding Mountains, in turn causing the dwarves of Utinmar to take up arms against their own kin; eladrin and elves all but unanimously fought on the side of Queen Sezarte, fearing that Aresmir had his sights set on more than just the crown. Whereas the Utinmarans had always legitimately recognised the Everleaf as belonging to the Feyborn races, leaving its natural resources untouched except when permitted to do so, there was no doubt in the minds of most that Aresmir would summarily ignore this time-honoured agreement, likely intending to exploit the Everleaf as much as the resources of his own country in his bid for expansion. The war raged on for months, the Vaerian hosts forging deep into Utinmar initially, taking Mitback and besieging the capital city of Niemund for a time. Besides the aid of the elves, eladrin and the shield-dwarves, it was the involvement of the Academy that ultimately turned the tide against Aresmir's forces. Spells of such awesome destructiveness were wrought that their wielders took their lives after the war had ended, deciding that any knowledge of these spells and their dreadful power should die with them. The Vaerians were pushed back off-shore, and what remained of their armada was eventually destroyed in a final, bloody battle that also saw major losses on the part of the Utinmaran and Genvegrian fleet; in dreadful memory of that battle, the ocean separating Utinmar and Vaere became known as the Wretched Sea, for the immense loss of life it bore witness to. (The state of Saaran, formerly a Vaerian region, also won its independence following the Great War, a result of the Vaerian military being greatly weakened by its war efforts. They have remained thus for a hundred years, but lately, tensions have been heating up again; Daggard Keep, on the Vaerian side of the border, has had its garrisons considerably expanded, and it seems only a question of time until open hostilities break out again.) LightWarden posted:What can you tell us about Carthaune? Is he paragon-level like ourselves, or more archmage inclined? Wonder if it's possible for any wizards to come from the Academy of the Lake. And yes, player wizards can be members of the Academy (graduates or residents). quote:Also, any possibility that any members of the party have worked with each other beforehand? HawkedMatter posted:Making up a rogue multiclass wizard. Once master illusionist thief/adventurer that has lost most of his arcane powers since the Eclipse. You can of course still multiclass into wizard; I'd just reconsider the concept perhaps. (And a link to those illusionist powers would be appreciated, too!)Also let me mention the IRC channel for this game again: #septemberprocession on irc.synirc.net. It's, like, cozy in there.
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Aug 25, 2008 04:37
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A sombre and contemplative dwarf, Hendak Hearthstone is not prone to the gregariousness or drunken boisterousness that is common to his people. Born into a family of simple craftsmen beneath the Shielding Mountains, he found himself drawn to the study of religion, and especially to the god Moradin, who was believed to have created the Dwarves. Upon adulthood he officially joined the clergy, first at a temple in his hometown, and later as an assistant to the high priests who performed the elaborate funeral rites at the Vale of the Silent. He spent many years in this role, content with the affirmation of clan life and respect for the worthy fallen. Hendak's peace of mind, however, did not last forever. Time after time he tended to deceased dwarves who had died in the defense of their way of life, and here Hendak was, comfortable and safe in the great stone halls. The final funeral he attended to was for a dwarf name Lordar Tharkum, a miner from a town far abroad. A great horde of hobgoblins surrounded the town, and with reinforcements still days away, Lordar had organized a last-ditch defense. He ordered the women and children into the depths of the mine, while the workers would fall back from the town, defending the mine entrance with nothing more than their picks and their courage. The town was destroyed, and the defenders died to a man, but they bought enough time for the reinforcements to swoop in and save the innocents cowering below. No, Hendak could not stay while brave men like Lordar were out there fighting and dying. Taking his wishes to the high priests, they agreed to let him go as a crusader in Moradin's name, working his will in the outside world. He took up the hammer that day, the symbol of his god, and since then he and it have been as one. He took the fight first to the bugbears who had continued harassing the mining towns to the north, and then to other threats that reared their heads against dwarwenkind, both near and far to the Shielding Mountains. The righteousness of his fight filled him, and he began to dream of Moradin providing encouragement from his stone throne. He felt assured that one die he would die an honorable death and be buried with the other heroes in the Vale. And then the Eclipse happened. No longer did he dream of Moradin, nor did he even feel the subtle encouragement of his presence. He was not alone, as devout followers of all the gods had felt the same thing, some even losing the powers they had been granted. Hendak still had his, so perhaps he still had some destiny to fulfill. Perhaps Moradin had chosen him as his champion in these dark times. Or perhaps Moradin was gone forever, and the loss of his powers had only been delayed. The uncertainty and stress caused his hair to prematurely turn gray, making him look much older than his true age. He felt lost until he received the message from Ravic Carthaune. If there was a chance to discover what was going on, and perhaps even a chance to reverse whatever happened, he had to take it. He set out for the Academy that very night. code:Angstrom Gothington fucked around with this message at 07:10 on Aug 27, 2008 |
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Aug 25, 2008 06:52
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Blargh, managed to get a broad sketch of background and personality down. MMAgCh, let me know if it's not specific enough or lacking in any particular area. I went for the vague approach in parts so it could be altered and amended as the plot or players require, but if you want detail I can flesh it out.
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Aug 25, 2008 15:05
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http://www.wizards.com/default.asp?x=dnd/drfe/20080616 I might just keep the sheet and go for a similar rogue/illusionist that has just found his formerly basic arcane skillset more rare.
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Aug 25, 2008 15:13
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Holy poo poo, I didn't notice this was up. http://docs.google.com/Doc?id=dc65k52c_12czv9wfdt&hl=en You know the basic premise, more in a bit. EDIT: Holy poo poo, Piell made like, this exact guy down to the ELF part. I will pass for now I reckon! EDIT EDIT: I may make a whizzard instead. I dunno! Winson_Paine fucked around with this message at 19:59 on Aug 25, 2008 |
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Aug 25, 2008 19:18
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Background for Landra, my fighter, posted upthread: MMA, feel free to suggest any changes that would bring her more in line with what you're after.
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Aug 25, 2008 21:09
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Oh man, I am rockin' the Warlock with a side of Wizard Multi into BLOOD MAGE
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Aug 25, 2008 21:24
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The background for Eradyn Masonwood is up. Quick link. Let me know what you think.
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Aug 25, 2008 21:45
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Aggro, according to the first post the Great War was ~100 years ago, I think, and lasted a few months to a year-ish (well, it just says "months"). So if your character is 56, she won't have any memories of any events relating to the war. You'd probably want to either slap on a good 60 or 70 years, or figure out if this is some sort of other dwarf squabble. Not sure, but you might want to toss in a few more adventuring exploits that make others come to you, or otherwise explain why you went to them? Also, is it just me, or is Leomund's Secret Chest awesome for fetch quests? Drop it off at your employer's place, tell him to place it under guard, and then summon it up when you need to ship him something, he can leave notes, instructions, and more arcane components in the thing if he needs to do so, allowing the group to exchange information and items across the planes if necessary.
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Aug 25, 2008 23:35
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