Hey everyone, we had a striker drop from our game, so I'm looking for a replacement. The original thread is closed, so I made a new one!
edit: Current party comp is Ranger (Archer), Artificer, Battlemind, Psion|Avenger, and Shaman
Minor note: The party leveled up to level 12, so you will start there with level 12 starting equipment. The remaining character creation rules below apply however. You will be joining the party after recruitment ends once they rejoin the main quest giver.
Recruitment ends 5/19 at 11:59pm
Please join the Discord Server!
Original recruit thread
One day, however it happened – by courier or by note - you received a message. It was cryptic – simply stating, “You have proven yourself well. If it should interest you, I have a task that only one of your skill and renown can complete, with a great reward awaiting you.’ The message ended with a meeting place that appeared to be in the middle of nowhere. Something about this note, despite its cryptic nature, compels you to respond and meet the author of the message. You arrive at the meeting place and are greeted…
Melchiresa fucked around with this message at May 13, 2018 around 13:34
|# ? May 13, 2018 01:46|
|# ? May 27, 2018 17:49|
Taranis, Emissary of the Storm
The soothing rains have not fallen upon this land in years uncounted. There was a great tide of destruction, a maelstrom of pain, fire, inexpressible wrongness...and then, the end. Not even darkness or silence remained. There was only the faintest lingering regret for something that was broken and could never again be whole.
Now, however, after all this time, a way has been opened once more--the tiniest fraction of a pinhole compared to what had once been, but just enough to know, to sense. Enough to feel what has been done to the world. Enough to know sorrow...and wrath.
A suitable implement is located: one of the last novices, buried alive on the temple grounds when the war had swept over it. The wind howls. Lightning rends the entombing sands, and all the energy that can be mustered is poured into the unearthed vessel. Its limbs jerk and spasm as the power takes root...and at last, its eyes open in a mocking imitation of life.
The storms that rained upon the deserts of the old world had to be swift and severe, because they were granted precious little time to pierce that parched earth and make room for life. Now, there is an entire world that remembers nothing but scorched thraldom to the tyrant sun.
Now, the sky will make ready for war.
|# ? May 14, 2018 02:16|
Kairon of the Everflowing Flames
Tiefling Fire Elementalist
The world has been ruined by so much. Defilers taking the very lifeforce of the land to power their spells. The greed and far reaching grasp of the Sorcerer-Kings.
The bloodthirsty nature many of the world's inhabitants have taken to try and eek out a survival in the harsh land. And then there are the Tiefling. A group of people who long ago gave of their bodies and souls to otherworldly beings, demonic beings, in a bid for power. They gained power and were twisted by the deal. They became a blight upon the land. And many years later their descendants carry the stigma of that choice. Many of the Tiefling continue the destruction of their ancestors. Killing indiscriminately, raiding caravans or even towns, stealing what they want and burning the rest. Many Tiefling remain a blight upon the land. They have power so they use it as they will. Or they feel they have the debt of sin from their ancestors and do not believe it could ever be filled so they give in to hedonism and debauchery. Some feel the debt, but choose to fill it by killing as much as they can, filling the debt with the souls of the dead. For whatever reason many Tiefling are still a problem. Still there are others who try to make the world a better place.
Kairon was born a Tiefling. He felt the debt of his ancestors. He could feel the sins they committed. And he was ashamed. He wished to do what he could to make up for the Tiefling who came before him. But he was not gifted in producing food and water, in leading people into creating a utopian society, or anything else particularly useful to make the world a better place in a peaceful way. No his skills were more geared toward the use of fire. Calling upon the power of his blood, gifted to him by his cursed ancestry. So he set out to do what good he could by making use of his fire. He traveled the wastes doing what he could to save people from bandit attacks, from raiders, from the many beasts that make the wastes their home, and especially from his own kind.
How did you come to reach Paragon? What are your most notable exploits?
"I travelled the wastes. Saving those I could. I sought out signs of battle and went to the aid of those who may have otherwise been overwhelmed. I fought many bandit groups over the years. And I dealt with hundreds of my own kind who had given in to their blood." He looks sad for a moment. Then he continues.
"I even managed to lead a few brief rebellions, helping slaves to overthrow their oppressors. Freeing gladiators from their arena."
How Daclamitus hear of you? Why did you respond to his request?
"I spoke briefly of gladiators. I believe that is the event that led to Daclamitus' interest in me. While I was traveling the wastes I found signs of a raider attack, following the tracks I learned of slaves that had been captured and sold to a gladiator arena. They were forced into grueling training sessions, many died in the training or in the matches. I could not let it be. So I got involved. I let myself be captured. I joined with the gladiator slaves and I inspired them. I told them of how they could rise up, how they could free themselves, of how they could fight back. Then at the start of a match I gave a predetermined signal and we turned on our overseers. We fought back. And we were successful. I managed to get the gladiators free of the arena, and even outside of the city. Leading them to a group I had contacted that were able to escort them back to their old lives, or to other cities, where they could once more be free."
He pauses. "This was a rather big event. Rumors and stories about the event are spreading even now. As for why I responded to his request? I want to make the world a better place. Unfortunately I am fairly limited in what I can do by myself. With the aid of other like minded individuals and Daclamitus' backing perhaps I could truly make a difference."
What is one thing you would like to see change for the better on Athas?
"Well it would be nice if we could return the land to a beautiful and gentle place. But that may be a bit beyond our means. For now I would like to make the world a place where one does not have to fear for their life, does not have to fight tooth and nail for the simple luxury of life, where one does not have to be bloodthirsty and cruel to survive and thrive."
Kairon of the Everflowing Flames HP: 87/87 AC: 25* Passive Insight: 15 Surges: 11/11 (V: 21) For: 25* Passive Perception: 15 Initiative: +7 Ref: 22* Action Points: 1 Speed: 6 Will: 29* Vision: Low-light Vision Languages: Common, Primordial Resist 11 Fire At Will Encounter Daily Elemental Bolt [ ] Second Wind [ ] Elemental Shield Ignition [ ] Hellfire Heart Thought Projection [ ] Infernal Wrath Fire Stride [ ][ ][ ] Elemental Escalation Ensorcelled Blade [ ] Shield of Flames [ ] Learned Boost [ ] Refined Recall [ ] Weapon of Speed Ensorcelled Blade (mba): +22 vs AC, 1d4+14 Fire Damage Elemental Bolt (rba): +22 vs Reflex, Range 10, 1d12+1d6+27 Fire Damage Ignition: +19 vs Fort, Area burst 1 in range 10, 1d10+23 Fire Damage Passives: Shimmering Cloth Armor: Do not provoke for ranged or area attacks. Distortion Cloak*: +2 to all Defenses against ranged attacks from 5 squares or more away Backbone Belt: +4 bonus to all Defenses after Second Wind instead of +2 War Wizard Expertise: -5 penalty to hit allies. Superior Will: Can make a save vs Daze or Stun at start of my turn even if effect doesn't normally end on a save. Dispater's Iron Discipline: +6 (Cha mod) bonus to saves against Stun, Dominate, or Daze Fiery Blood: When I take fire damage from an attack, adjacent enemies take 5 fire damage. Sorcerous Vision: Can use Arcana in place of Perception or Insight. Bloodhunt: +1 bonus to attack rolls against bloodied foes. Arcane Underpinning:When I hit a target with an arcane at will I gain a +1 to hit that target with an arcane at will until the end of my next turn. Educated Action: When I spend an AP to take an extra action I can reroll the next attack roll I make that misses before the end of my next turn.
Ryuujin fucked around with this message at May 16, 2018 around 05:29
|# ? May 14, 2018 04:16|
Gerwin "Nim" Nimbusborn
Genasi Elemental Ranger
Orokos Sheet and PDF Sheet
Gerwin Nimbusborn, son of Father Cloud and Mother Storm, is a genasi that hails from the mountains south of the Estuary of the Forked Tongue overlooking the town of Smuggler's Rest. His parents were treasure hunters, until one day his father found a sword that gleamed like a mirror and could cut the toughest hide in one of the ruined castles. Gerwin's father didn't live to see the sunset that day, and so a young Gerwin was forced to work alongside his mother to try and survive. They spent their days in the silt and sand scavenging the ruins of a world long dead, but lived in the heights where the mountains touched the clouds. The rare feeling was a treasured experience - the chilled frost of a wandering cloud reminding him of his father.
Eventually they made enough money for Gerwin to pay for a spot on a travelling caravan headed east to the Ringing Mountains. His mother was growing old, the toils of her life catching up to her. They were trustworthy merchants, and those high mountains would allow her some peace for the first time in her life. They cried at their parting, knowing it might be the last time they ever saw one another.
Then Gerwin killed the men who had murdered his father so long ago. The ones that were left anyway. The relic was long gone, but it was no concern. Justice, or whatever passed for it, had been served. With his father avenged, and his mother safely away, Gerwin struck out on his own and made a name for himself as a wandering treasure hunter and mercenary.
How did you come to reach paragon? What are your most notable exploits?
"My mother was the best treasure hunter I've ever met, and she taught me well enough. How the sand settles where there is something beneath it, how the dunes can chart out long forgotten roads. How to tell a pile of rocks from a former castle. Of course treasure hunting alone is a fool's errand so I mostly joined up with whatever exploration party was hiring at the time. A bit of pay, a few salvage rights. I got these boots from one of those expeditions, for example."
"Of course times could get lean. I'd take a job as a caravan guard, or a guide leading some group or another on an expedition. I tried my hand at bounty hunting for a while. Wasn't very good at that though. Tracking down escaped slaves seems like it would've been easy, but it the desert is just so dangerous, especially if you don't have any supplies or equipment. Some people tell me that the slaves I reported dead were spotted later a few villages over, but I wouldn't know anything about that."
"What really made my name though was leading parties out into the Forked Tongue. The only things living out there are giant clans staking claim to these islands sticking up out of the silt. While this makes them obviously dangerous, it also makes them prime treasure hunting locations. The giants have no interest or reason to go picking through crumbling piles of rock or trying to find secret doors they could scarcely fit their hand into anyway, but they are also not too fond of visitors. Most of the time I had to sneak our parties past the giants and help find the ruins and secret passages we sought. Other times... things didn't go so smoothly."
How Daclamitus hear of you?
"You'd have to ask him specifically, but if I had to guess it would've been the run in I had with a Beasthead. See, the giants that live out in the Forked Tongue have a sort of pattern to them. Those that live close to the coast tend to be reasonable sorts, willing to talk and trade a bit if you know what they want. You can even make a social call on their islands, if they know you and you know how to be polite. The further out into the silt you go though, the less hospitable the giants are. Of course, the ruins out there are also mostly untouched, so who knows what you could find?"
"The plan was solid enough, as these things go. An old map and a story, an ancient castle way out in the silt. Full of treasure. A small flotilla of the brave, greedy and foolhardy assembled, and of course I went with them. Miraculously, we actually did find the island and the castle. We were attempting to find a way inside when a Beasthead just showed up. The place looked abandoned, but no, there was this mad thirty foot tall bullman ranting at us in a language that hurt to listen to."
"He killed four of our group by thinking at us. Then he started swinging a huge, gnarled tree as a club and smashed even more. For my part I was trying to get the others to run and hide, but some dumb kid got caught out. Well, no, not dumb. Inexperienced. Desperate. The next part is a bit unclear to me, a lot of instinct and adrenaline. I jumped out with my swords and just started slashing and stabbing like a madman. The short version is that with some help from the others that worked. Sometimes you're lucky enough that Athas doesn't eat you alive. For my part, I got a new pay of boots out of it."
Why did you respond to his request?
"I don't know. The message was vague, I'd turned down better sounding jobs than that. I turned down a better sounding job than that, to seek him out and see what this was all about. Something about the message carried a weight, a strange... potential that I didn't understand. The mystery of it drew me in."
What is one thing you would like to see change for the better on Athas?
"Once in my travels I found a small seed. It was from a tree, I found out later. It was in a city that had been hidden under the sand, and I happened upon it when the shifting dunes uncovered it. I was part of a small caravan, but I opted to stay behind for a while and explore. It was empty, though. Picked clean over hundreds of years by people just like me. I didn't even find any bones. But there in a corner was this seed, looking fresh and new like it had only been placed a second before I happened upon it."
"I thought it some sort of false container, something to hide a small treasure where none would suspect, so I pried it open. When I did, music started playing. Music unlike anything I had ever heard, and that I probably will never hear again. I must have sat there for hours, in the shade of one of the still-standing walls... Just listening. Then something in me snapped and I drew my sword. To my right, not ten feet away, was a giant lizard. I didn't hear it approach, it could have swallowed me whole. But it was just sitting there too. Listening. Eventually it just wandered away."
"Is that what Athas was like? Were there trees whose seeds played music, music that pacified the animals? Soothed worries and made the hardships feel a little lighter? I want to see that world. I want that to be the world again."
professor_curly fucked around with this message at May 16, 2018 around 03:13
|# ? May 14, 2018 07:03|
Kllkt-t'cha, Tohr-Kreen Explorer From Beyond the Tablelands
Thri-kreen Centered Breath Monk/Thri-Kreen Predator (Explorer)
Orokos | PDF
You asked me to tell you of any particularly unusual travelers who cross my path, and such a one has surely done so.
There is a kreen in the city, of their own accord and not as a slave or a prisoner. Uncommon, but of note only to local gossip. Except this kreen speaks like a civilized person, though not fluently, and more over, can read. They call themselves tohr-kreen, not thri-kreen, a distinction they seem to find important though no one else can make much sense of it.
This tohr-kreen has an insatiable curiosity and is constantly poking their antennae into places. Some of the nobles find them amusing and have feted them, even given them access to libraries. They have also made themselves a regular of the artist's quarter, and have traded for several works - none from notable artists or frankly of much quality. They may not be a savage, but they are still a kreen and thus peculiar in their taste. That has only made them more of a wonder to small children and beggars and fools, a trail of whom often follow in their wake, and who they seem inclined to indulge.
I had dismissed this kreen as merely one of those inexplicable things one simply must accept if one is not to go mad, living in Tyr in these times. But then I spoke with the merchant who brought the kreen here. The merchant told me that the kreen had slaughtered that band of kank-mounted raiders who have been giving us so much trouble, by themselves. This merchant is a reliable sort and was not in their cups, but I of course did not simply accept such wild tales.
Yet as I sought to confirm this claim, I came across more and more startling reports. That this kreen had come from beyond the Tablelands, across the Forest Ridge. From historians and wasteland guides I heard they had been seen searching half a dozen ancient ruins. From soldiers and guards-for-hire I heard of their battle prowess, of how they used gythka and chatkcha like extensions of their own body in a style no one had seen before. From flesh-traders and gladiators I heard how they had distinguished themselves in the Criterion, then had traded its winnings for a remarkably ugly rug before simply walking out of Balic. Though not before defeating a half-dozen dray slavers who's preference was for the kreen to continue its career in the arena. And at every instance how they sought out every scroll and scrap bearing a record of the past, no matter how mundane or extravagant its claims.
In the end I met this kreen myself, who calls themselves Kllkt-t'cha. My knowledge of the kreen language was of great aid; not only did it allow the kreen to express themselves more fully, given their shortcomings with the speech of the Tablelands, but it allowed me to intuit some things I would not have otherwise. In both tongues they had a thick accent, but I was able to overcome this barrier without much trouble.
They told me they were an explorer and scholar on a pilgrimage to find wisdom, and to return it to their home. They were reluctant to speak much of that place but I gathered it was a distant city-state of some sort, built and ruled by kreen. Imagine such a thing! Kllkt-t'cha said they were part of an order of warrior-scholars, the Claws of Truth (a somewhat poetic translation of my own devising; the kreen name is yet another collection of clicks and whistles without purchase on the minds of the non-mantid; a conceit I will make use of for some other figures and groups Kllkt-t'cha spoke of). This order, like the ascetic schools of martial arts that crop up in the Tablelands, mostly looked inwards for enlightenment, but this Kllkt-t'cha seemed to think a they would find more of interest by looking beyond. Beyond themselves and their home. They also seem to think this is of great importance in ensuring the survival of their community, though precisely what threat they fear I do not know.
I gathered this caused some trouble with their fellows and especially with their mentor (or teacher or master or parent - the distinction seemed unclear to the kreen, and thus I could not determine the true relationship for myself), one Kllkt-t'cha called the Warden of Rectitude. Kllkt-t'cha apparently had aligned themselves with a clique (or movement or school) called the Farsighted Erratics. Listening more to what went unspoken than what was said out loud, I believe Kllkt-t'cha was exiled for their unorthodox views, and probably after the philosophical disagreement turned to a physical one in some fashion. Their subsequent wanderings appear to be an effort to both prove the rightness of their views and secure some piece of lost knowledge that is key to their plan for the salvation of their home.
The conversation was an excellent way to pass an evening, as was Kllkt-t'cha's demonstration of their singular fighting techniques, which were as impressive as advertised. With my curiosity satisfied, my interest in this strange kreen is at an end, but perhaps they might of some use to your project.
As ever, your friend in the Free City.
Whatever your message to Kllkt-t'cha said, it must have piqued their interest for they left the city this morning in some haste. I thought I might let you know, as the kreen's grasp of social niceties is still somewhat theoretical, and even for you it might be disconcerting to have them show up on your doorstep unannounced, for they certainly did not pause to send a reply ahead of themselves.
Of more importance, I also wish to add an addendum to my prior correspondence. Additional information reached my ears in the last few days. The dray in Balic were first reported to me as slavers, but it seems this was mere disguise. In truth they were assassins for one or another of the clans - I have not confirmed which. But I did hear of a motive that seems sensible to me, especially considering what I currently conjecture about Kllkt-t'cha's true purpose.
First, that purpose. The combination of a handful of cryptic comments made during our interview, actions that I had previously ascribed to whim, and these further reports paint a clearer picture of the kreen's purpose. I now believe the Farsighted Erratics true heresy is not merely that they seek outside knowledge, but wish to share it. I conclude that Kllkt-t'cha and their fellows determined that the history of Athas has not merely been forgotten, but hidden, and what little is known is in fact a falsehood erected to mislead. Thus the goal of the Farsighted Erratics is to tear down that edifice of lies and reveal the truth to all, which they seem to think will usher in some kind of golden age.
In pursuit of those secrets the kreen seems to have stumbled across some mystery the dray clans wish to keep obscured, and I suspect other as yet unknown parties share that animus and are sponsoring the clans' efforts.
This kreen seems to be a kindred spirit of yours, in more ways than one. I hope that their goals and yours do truly align; any person who manages to survive a concerted effort by the clans to kill them is someone to be reckoned with.
Do let me know how it turns out. It should make for an absorbing tale.
As ever, your friend in the Free City.
Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at May 17, 2018 around 15:16
|# ? May 16, 2018 01:57|
Kalakote, Eater of Revenants
All are familiar with the dangers of the desert, the merciless sun, the ferocious predators, their fellow man. Few know of the depths of the Beastbarrens and those that do only urge fleeing. Nomads of the Ivory Triangle, the Revenant Eater Tribe would not disagree. They do not live within nor enter those cursed lands to hunt, but they are cunning warriors. Descended from a distant ancestry of Shadow Giants, the dark-skinned, pale-eyed half-giants share a strong resistance to eating things that are best left to rot. Their natural immunity to the danger of the plagued mutants gave them an edge against all other raiders. Revenant Eaters claim stretches of land near the East side of the Great Ivory Plain and make sport of baiting and killing monolithic multi-segmented Kruthiks, forging mighty plate from their carapaces and poison weapons of terrible potency from giant mandibles. These qualities alone are all almost anyone knows of the terrifying raiders, yet there is more to the people beyond savagery. There is no room for wishful thinking, no bemoaning an unfair death in the wastes. Revenant Eaters celebrate death as strongly as other cultures would celebrate a birth, sharing consumption of the fallen's flesh among the entire tribe and crafting primal charms from their bones. Those facing death do so happily, knowing that they may give their final boon to the tribe and empower their descendants, their closest friends, their lovers.
From this clan Kalakote came, born a respectable hunter to a simple father and a doting mother. Growing to stand tall and possess great strength, he entered manhood with a prowess for meeting the rush of the millennial kruthik and cleaving its underbelly, as his father and uncles and grandfathers before him had done. Although not a single child, he was the only son and Kalakote's choice of wife would affect his standing in the tribe. In a show of uncommon altruism Kalakote volunteered to the tribe elders that he seek a political marriage, aligning with another half-giant tribe in a show of good faith. Community was everything to nomads and to expand that to a trust with others was seen as a profound blessing. Talk of possessing a future leader's wisdom followed Kalakote in whispers as he departed. He would travel for a week and impress upon his hosts, negotiate a dowry and so on. Traveling alone was meant to serve as a sign of his undeniable strength, even as his mount's pack bulged with redundant food and drink. Kalakote would depart, encounter a bit of trouble, and arrive at the camp of his hosts as ever the courteous guest, bearing an ornamented necklace of preserved thri-keen eyes. A marriage was agreed upon, filling his heart with optimism for the future.
Returning to his home proved true the old adage that Hope is the First Line in any Devil's Contract. Where the Revenant Eaters had once gathered their herds of grumpy inix and hammered down great tents of beautiful leathers and sewn diptera wings, lit bonfires that the shamans would turn to flame ethereal, to let them know their ancestors watched contented... all of that was scattered, destroyed. The scrubland withered to black dust, all valuables torched or torn, great stretches of sand welded to green-black glass. If <long-legs-long-ears> or <six-arms-sharp-claws> sought to raid they would be broken and sent fleeing, weeping over a small number of fallen. This was annihilation, ringed by great defilement. Whether they had fallen upon the wrong caravan, unearthed something they should not have or stumbled upon a great evil in the desert, none would ever know. Certainly not Kalakote, not that day. The slaughter weighed heavy upon his back as he sought out familiar remains, carved out totems and remembrances of his friends, respected equals, lost children who admired him. When he found his family, a father and mother and sister, he bound their bodies with what remained of the wise man's supplies, drawing upon the scented herbs and treated linen that would preserve them. They could not rest here. Nobody could, but he had to be practical. A small bit of black humor, he thought, as he returned to traveling the desert.
Days turned into weeks. If he sought death in the Ivory, it was willing to offer. If he sought an idyllic, pretty place then perhaps he truly had gone mad. As the second month crept upon him Kalakote came to a great ruined city, half-buried in grey silt. His burden heavy, he draw a scale-bound toboggan with the last of his supplies and his family's remains into the ruins as the sun set. All was unnaturally cool, his brow suddenly yielding a cold sweat, his stomach finding room in it for anxiety instead of hunger. He had grown even stronger in his pilgrimage, taken in the flesh of mother and father and sister and the best of their wonderful traits, but he could not survive alone forever. Here it was that something would smile upon him as he discovered a beautiful treasure, immeasurably valuable: a stone-wrought well. Cool water rose with the bucket inside this tiny half-collapsed room. It would be as good a home as any, space enough to tend to his armor and blade, to sleep in shade, to prepare and inter his family, to begin searching for something of value and consider his place in the world. To craft, but he was no merchant. Treasure Hunter was as practical as any profession to the dullards of a city-state. So it was that he would begin mapping out the area.
How did you come to reach paragon? What are your most notable exploits?
Travelers tell tales, two sides of the same coin, of the fates that befall those who travel the ruins of the Ivory Triangle. The first men speak of disaster striking, their sand skiffs shattered by massive insects emerging from the sands or entering ruins with ancient stone pillars collapsing and trapping them. Survivors would walk the desert clutching at their bellies, adventurers would tremble in the dark as everything was deathly quiet, all that were lost knew Athas would claim them. They would rage and plea and finally shake, terrified by the death they knew was coming. Yet instead they would be blessed, assisted by a mysterious hermit traveling alone. Alone, moving deftly across the delicate silt! With mighty strength he would rout danger, with jovial spirit he would mend the wounded and help the lost, with impossible generosity he would share water. A priceless water-skin and a stern order to travel back West.
But others spoke of their missing friends, lost partners, laughed about vanished rivals. Those who attempted to pillage the old buried city would be met by a terrifying specter, a towering figure of bone and blue flame, brandishing a blade that defiled the land with every stroke. Only those few who escaped as their comrades died instead would be able to tell the tale, and no investigation could yield any sign of the deceased. It would be a waste, even for the Eater of Revenants, to let good corpse and the supplies carried be buried...
How did Daclamitus hear of you? Why did you respond to his request?
Many things emerge from the Beastbarrens, huge and terrible. And many small and terrible things lurk around it, reveling in the absence of the Revenant Eaters. Bands of diabolical Minotaurs prey upon travelers, eager to pressure caravans into mazes of cliffs and valleys, becoming enraged if their quarry should flee back to the West. This set the stage for the appearance of the rumored "Eater of Revenants", the blue-fire ghoul giant clad in bone, appearing when Master Daclamitus would find his wagon train in danger. For it was a simple task for the warped bull-men to invent new paths, to cut across dangerous terrain and evade the nests of predators, to haul great rocks and set wicked traps for their prey. Dash their vehicles, gore their beasts of burden. The rest should be an easy capture making for weeks of sacrifice. Instead the Minotaurs would find a blade held in two hands, able to rend air and melt sand.
In lieu of payment the half-giant man accepted a curious promise from the sage, a note bound and written with great care. Kalakote would not agree to it at the time but the forlorn passion of the Ghost of the Triangle would be remembered by Daclamitus...
What is one thing you would like to see change for the better on Athas?
Time moves slowly in solitude, slower still with limited entertainment. Kalakote was largely content in his self-imposed exile, yet he found he should write of his people lest he forget his culture entirely. And he should bring his own musings into it, for by default he was now the most credible philosopher of his people left. "Truly, if Athas were to die, I urge the slave to give praise for the end of his suffering. I urge the merchant to set down his profits and rest. I urge the soldier to know relief that his sins would be forgiven. And I urge the king to learn humility, always a soothing balm to the soul. For in Athas' passing, all would be equal in death, and one day the ground would tremble, the sky would scream. Something new would appear."
Regarding the note he held from the sage, Kalakote finishes writing upon the parchment with a tight-lipped smile. "An Athas turned green, while I live to see it... well, even I would find it difficult to complain." He moved to store any unnecessary goods, to obscure the familiar circle outline of the well, to mask any evidence of his cavern. The last thing he did before departing would be to thank his small corralled den of bush-chickens, butchering them with a smile. Their future contribution to his travels would be a sincere blessing. Besides, they wouldn't last a single season alone.
Kalakote PDF HP: 105/105 AC: 27 Passive Insight: 25 Surges: 12/12 (V: 31) For: 27 Passive Perception: 20 Initiative: +8 Ref: 22 Action Points: 1 Speed: 7 Will: 26 Vision: Normal Languages: Common, Giant(Literate), Deep Speech(Literate) DR 1, Resist 5 Necrotic At Will Encounter Daily Ardent Strike [ ] Second Wind [ ][ ][ ][ ] Ardent Vow Holy Strike [ ] Stone's Endurance [ ] Blood of the Mighty Body Equilibrium [ ] Divine Strength [ ] Frenzying Smite Divine Challenge OR Divine Mettle [ ] Death Angel [ ] Heedless Fury [ ] Blade of Black Wind [ ] Vice's Reward [ ] Dwarven Vigor(I) [ ] Strength from Valor [ ] Piercing(I) [ ] Valiant Rush [ ] Octogram(I) [ ] Force of Arms [ ] Lawbreaker's Doom [ ] Dispensed Justice [ ] Red Death [ ] Leaping(I) [ ] Scabbard(I) Melee: +20 Attack, 1d10+14 Damage Challenge: 14 Damage (6 + 2 Cha + 6 Str) Sanction: 8 Damage (6 + 2 Cha) Withering: -1 AC per Weapon Hit. Cumulative, Save Ends current stack. Implement: +13 Attack Passives: Power Athlete: Roll Twice on Athletics to Jump/Climb Disciple of Stone: +7 THP when spending Healing Surge Heavy Blade Expertise: +2 Defenses against OAs Divinity's Shield: +2 F/R/W UEONT after using Channel Divinity Immobilizing Action: Immobilizes LD Target on successful Hit with AP Action Physical Resolve: +2 to Saves against Weakened/Slowed/Immobilized Skull Mask: Enemies have -2 to Saves against Fear effects
Ardent Vow(+9), Divine Strength(+6), Lawbreaker's Doom(+4)... I'm all in on this Big Two Hander thing.
Doomykins fucked around with this message at May 20, 2018 around 23:22
|# ? May 16, 2018 02:34|
old recruit thread is closed so i'm going to post the all-new all-improved Shaiha Nilil in here! Now she's got friends and is kind of like a proxy defender!
Shaiha Nilil HP: 81/81 (THP: 00) AC: 28 Passive Insight: 20 Surges: 8/8 (V: 20) For: 23 Passive Perception: 23 Initiative: +6 Ref: 28 Action Points: 1 Speed: 5 Will: 26 Vision: Low-light Languages: Common, Dwarven Melee Basic Attack: +17 vs. AC; 1d8+6 damage. At Will Encounter Daily Ethereal Chill [ ] Second Wind [ ] Obedient Servant Thundering Armor [ ] Lab Conditioning [ ] Flameheart Defender [ ][ ] Healing Infusion [ ] Relentless Harrier [ ] Sudden Slime [ ] Arcane Springboard [ ] Ice Shard Traps [ ] Summoner's Staff [ ] Phantasmal Henchman [ ] Rod of Absorption [ ] Gale-Force Infusion [ ] Hero's Armor [ ] Planar Gateway [ ] Salve of Power [ ] Energy Conversion [ ] Slick Concoction [ ] Enduring Summons [ ] Rod of Absorption Conditionals/Passives: Arcane Rejuvenation: When an ally uses a magic item daily power, they gain 11 THP. Resilient Focus: +2 to saving throws. Ooze Master 10: Resist 11 acid. Acid attacks make targets grant CA UEoMNT. Ooze Master 5: Roll twice on Dungeoneering checks. Superior Will: Save against dazing / stunning effects at start of turn. Rapid Infusion: Use Healing Infusion as a free action on my turn. Defensive Minions: Summons gain +2 to all defenses. Tome Expertise: Enemies next to my conjurations/summons grant CA. An enemy immune to fear is immune to this effect. Summoner's Staff: When an enemy misses my summon, I or an ally within 5 of the summon gain 7 THP. Summoner's Slip: After using a conjuration/summoning power, teleport 2 squares. Arcane Empowerment: 1/Day, spend a short rest with a magic item: Recharge its daily power, or give its wielder a free action to gain a +2 bonus to an attack roll after rolling once before the next extended rest. Quick Fix: Roll Arcana to disable, identify, or sense magical phenomena, or Thievery to disable or identify devices, as a minor instead of a standard action. Take -4 to such checks. Summoner's Action: When spending AP to make an attack, reroll one attack roll or one damage roll. Hero's Armor: When spending AP to make an attack, gain +2 to all defenses UEoMNT.
Wol fucked around with this message at May 16, 2018 around 10:42
|# ? May 16, 2018 09:55|
Same deal for Baba, just swapped out some of the avenger powers to ones that I can use more freely.
Kayode HP: 80/80 (THP: ) AC: 29 Passive Insight: 25 Surges: 7/7 (V: 20) For: 23 Passive Perception: 20 Initiative: +12 Ref: 26 Action Points: 0 Speed: 7 Will: 29 Vision: Normal Power Points: 8/8 Languages: Common, Primordial At Will Encounter Daily Avenging Shackles [ ] Argent Rain [ ] Celestial Fist Dimensional Scramble [ ] Aspect of Agility [ ] Force Spheres Dishearten [ ] Bound by Fate [ ] Mind Blast Kinetic Buffer [ ] Dream Blade Manifest Dream Form [ ] Dream Stride Thought Projection [ ] Far Hand [ ] Mind over Flesh [ ] Mind Shroud [ ] Oath of Enmity [ ] Second Wind Item Powers [ ] Raven Cloak (Daily) [ ] Repulsion Armor (Daily) Conditionals/Resists: Courageous Mind: +1 to saving throws while bloodied. Dominating Mind: When inflicting save ends daze, dominate or stun, target takes -2 to the first save. Dreaming Advantage: When using an AP to make a psionic attack, gain CA against any enemy adjacent to dream form. Eyes of the Deep Dwarf: Gain darkvision as long as you have one PP. Human Ingenuity: When using an AP, regain a PP. Raven Cloak: Resist 5 cold and necrotic. Resilient Focus: +2 to all saving throws. Silt Striders: Ignore difficult terrain and leave no tracks in dirt, sand, silt. Can move across non-solid surfaces. If you end your turn on a non-solid surface, you sink. Staff of Expertise: Do not provoke OAs from ranged or area attacks with a staff. Melee attacks with a staff get reach 1. Superior Will: Save vs daze and stun at the start of your turn.
Wahad fucked around with this message at May 22, 2018 around 09:00
|# ? May 16, 2018 10:06|
WIP, basic background is a farmer-turned-gladiator who bought his freedom and used his fighting skills to hunt evil in the shadows. Following the conclusion of a major operation which ultimately failed to produce any lasting effect, he has realized he cannot meaningfully change the world on his own. He believes the coldness of the human spirit is ultimately to blame for Athas being the way it is and wants to be friendlier than he is, but he is unused to working in a group so he comes across as awkward.
TheArchimage fucked around with this message at May 19, 2018 around 14:12
|# ? May 17, 2018 00:25|
Sharnare, Scion of Raam
Raam is many things, most of them terrible. Sprawling and crawling with people it is perhaps the largest of the Seven Cities, but its resources have been all but exhausted by centuries of misuse. The sorcerer queen Albalach-Re doesn't so much rule the city as she leaves it to its own desires in favor of her own. Never the strongest of the sorcerer lords in terms of raw power, her hedonism and neglect have pushed her citizens into open rebellion time and time again, her templars and mansabdars engaging in daily skirmishes with her citizens and occasionally each other. It is by all accounts an animate corpse beset by putrefaction, a disaster waiting to happen...
...and yet Kalak, Sorcerer-King of Tyr died first. Why?
Well, there is the obvious reason of a spear to the throat, but Albalach-Re's continuing existence may be more than the simple lack of an ideal weapon thrown at the ideal moment. To date, Raam has been host to dozens of rebellions and despite the city's decrepit state it's still arguable that it has yet to see a successful one. The reason for that is... complicated.
Albalach-Re's centuries of decadent living have involved dalliances with countless paramours and resulted in the birth of scores of children. Some are raised in the palace while others are discarded into the foster care of the nawabs, the city's noble families. Her children and their descendants are known as the Offspring, and their long history of unusual magical and psionic manifestations speaks to the potency of the Grand Vizier's bloodline... and the rumors of her sorcererous experiments.
You must understand that story in order to understand this one.
Once there was a child of Raam who was like most other children in Raam- malnourished in body, mind, and spirit. The child hungered like the other children did and fought for scraps like the other children did but the child was weak and received little more than the whatever scraps were left (or occasionally shared). The child hungered and more than anything wished that it could be like those stronger children... not the ones of the lower quarters but the radiant ones of such splendid well-nourished builds that could only be the product of unassailable power that would strike down any competitors. Even as the child shrank the child yearned, until one evening a miracle occurred- the child's skin blurred and pulled and stretched until it was the perfect match of one of the splendid children!
The child was soon scooped up by several attendants, and brought to a home of such magnificence that it did not have a single hole in the roof! The child was dressed, brushed and made the discovery that the splendid children were so powerful that they did not even have to fight before an entire plate of food was placed before them. It was a transcendent experience... right up until the splendid child entered the room.
The hungry child has trespassed in the most dangerous of realms, and their wrath was great indeed. But before the child was to be destroyed for the deception, one of the elders spoke in disagreement. The arguments roared and soared, but one eventually bore down with a truly great weight- the child should be taken before the Grand Vizier for judgement.
The child was escorted through widening roads and great gates and brought to a home wrought from clouds higher than the walls of the city. The Grand Vizier herself was not what the child expected- she smiled, laughed, and embraced the child, and spoke with a voice like the sun's whisper and the night's thunder, a voice that spoke countless words but only four that took nest in the child's head.
"You Will Preserve Raam."
The child was given a new name from that point on, Sharnare, and was turned over to the care of the splendid child's family, who spoke with soothing words of gratitude when in the presence of the Grand Vizier but would only hiss when they returned to their home. The hungry child would be fed alongside the splendid one, fed in both food and words, though never quite as much as the splendid child, as was only fair for a trespassing imposter. But despite this the splendid child took interest in the hungry child, and a great many things were shared in secret.
The splendid child grew into a splendid youth and the hungry child less so. Though the hungry child had shown a great blessing in the form of skinshifting, years of tutors and teachers and every test known to the city had shown no trace of any other great Gift. But the changing youth would still explore the great streets of Raam and discovered that preserving it was harder than it looked.
Raam festered in every corner with hunger and hatred, a boiling undercurrent that threatened at any moment to rupture and consume the city. But there was no singular hatred yet, just thousands upon thousands of lesser ones all knocking together in search of something bigger. The mansabdars stood in, opposed to and among that hatred, with the templar above them and the whispers of the kuotagah in the shadows, but it wouldn't be enough to blunt the coming bloodshed. But the wondrous thing about these hatreds was that they were always so volatile and could be redirected upon each other. Sometimes all it took was the right action, the right word... or the right face.
There was a certain beauty in this task of preservation, the act of becoming someone else entirely. It was a chance to speak of hunger, anger and change, to speak and be heard and to believe in right even if it was all a lie. A chance to embrace that spirit and live fully within it, a chance to be more until it would be mourned. But through all those years, lives and losses, it wasn't enough. An end was still coming, something had to change.
Raam would be preserved, but the Grand Vizier might not.
|# ? May 20, 2018 03:59|
Thank you for applications! It was a pretty hard decision to make.
The next adventurer to save Athas will be Doomykins!
Thank you again for all of the hard work put into your apps
|# ? May 20, 2018 20:43|
|# ? May 27, 2018 17:49|
Sathain - level 12 - updated PDF/statblock
Sathain HP: 103/103 (BV:51) AC: 30 Passive Insight: 17 THP: 0 Fort: 27 Passive Perception: 15 Surges: 15/15 (V:25) Ref: 26 Vision: Low-Light Initiative: +9 Will: 28 Action Points: 1 Power Points: 9/9 Speed: 5 Power Cards At Will Encounter Daily Eldritch Strike [ ] Adept's Insight [ ] Living Fortress Battlemind's Demand [ ] Persistent Harrier [ ] Nightmare Vortex Mind Spike [ ] Dimension Slide [ ] Intellect Hammer Concussive Spike [ ] Impose Your Will [ ] Battle Aspect Forceful Reversal [ ] Rebind the Will Lodestone Lure [ ] Fast Talk Thought Projection Item Hand of the Mage - Prestidigitation, Mage Hand (AW) Hat of Disguise - Disguise Self (AW) [ ] Shield of Eyes - don't grant CA when flanked UEMNT (D) Deep-Pockets Cloak - draw or store an item from the cloak(AW, 1/round) Passives Fragment of the Way: expend 1 PP at end of short rest to deal +1[W] with next weapon attack Bracers of Mighty Striking - +4 damage to MBAs (Eldritch Strike) Hat of Disguise: +5 to Bluff to pass myself off as someone else Shield of Eyes: +2 AC vs OAs Wielder's Action: spend AP to make attack, get 1 PP back Superior Will: Save vs stun/daze at start of turn even if not save ends. Flail Expertise: when I hit with a melee attack using a flail and the attack lets me slide the target, knock them prone instead Dragging Flail: whenever I use a filail to knock an enemy prone, also slide them 1 square Rushing Cleats: increase the push or slide effect of any close or weapon attack by 1 Hindering Shield: whenever I pull, push, or slide a creature with an attack while using a shield, slow that creature USMNT -on slide (Eldritch Strike): knock prone, slide 3, slow -on push: push +2 squares, slow - Concussion Spike: push 8, slow -on pull: slow - Lodestone Lure: pull 1 (no aug)/4 (aug 1 or 2) and slow. If aug 2, also knock prone + slide 3
LogicNinja fucked around with this message at May 26, 2018 around 07:13
|# ? May 26, 2018 06:57|