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 Adventurers have a lot of gold. Slaying dragons and exploring old ruins, carting off precious treasure by the wagonful, only to spend it all at the nearest tavern. Nobles have a lot of gold, too. They sit on it, lording their wealth over the commonfolk, growing fat from their lavish parties in their massive houses. Unfortunately, you are neither an adventurer, nor a noble. An adventurer's life is deadly! For every renowned hero, there's at least a dozen dead and forgotten. No sense in risking your life for some quick cash. A noble's life is circumstance of blood; and you are not born with that blood. But still, as with many folks, the promise of gold is a sweet whisper to your waiting ears. So you have decided, at some point in your life, to take up the easiest way to make a lot of gold; theft. You are a criminal, plain and simple, and you make sure all those adventurers and nobles aren't weighed down by heavy pockets. After all, what use is gold if it's not being spent? But you are not just any common bandit or thug, sticking up the nearest passerby with a knife for pocket change. You are an artist. Whatever your specialty, there is not a lock or wall in the world that can stop you; or at least, none that you've found so far. Of course, you take great care not to have your name or image on wanted posters. You're better than that. Of course, your name might be known in less savory circles, but you know that fame equals misfortune. If you become known, it won't be long before the guards of every city in Faerun would be looking out to put an end to your artistry. It might surprise you then that, wherever you are, a letter has reached your person in one way or another. quote:If this letter has reached you, know that we are aware of your work, and have great admiration for your skills. To that end, we would like to hire your services for a job that could only be done by someone as proficient in your field as you. Rest assured that your reward will be most generous. Please make your way to Waterdeep as soon as you can. Below you will find instructions on where to find us. The letter is unsigned, but you know a job offer when you see one. Time to make some money.  Welcome to the Sword Coast Shuffle! This is a 5e game set in the Forgotten Realms, but this isn't your typical heroes-brave-the-land game. Instead, the party will be comprised of 6 expert criminals, pulling off heists throughout the realm for a pair of backers. As such, this game won't be especially combat heavy - unless the group decides to go in hot and heavy, of course, or they get caught mid-burglary. It will instead rely a bit more on story and narrative. You might say "But Wahad, D&D is a terrible game to run heists in!" and to that I say you're probably right. But I didn't want to learn a new system. So here we are. Heists will be broken up into two phases - preparation, in which you gather information and objects that might come in handy during your heist, and execution, in which you put the plan through its paces and steal the treasure. As part of a crew, each of you fulfill a specialized role, like a burglar, or a fixer. Some of these roles might have more significance during the preparation phase, others during the execution phase. More on them below. But the important thing to realize is that you will all have to work together to pull these heists off; otherwise, you're guaranteed a straight trip to the jail. I plan to give everybody time to shine, though, so everybody will get to feel like a smooth criminal. And to ensure everyone is, in fact, a smooth criminal, the following game statements should give you a feel of what I'm aiming for with this game. Victory is Hard – but not Impossible: A core theme in heist media is that heists often fail. Sometimes, the crew has incomplete information. Sometimes a guard decides to be a hero. D&D being dependent on dice rolls for a lot of things, chance may simply not be on your side. But don’t be afraid to make mistakes. A good plan is key; but knowing how to improvise when poo poo hits the fan will still let you get away with the prize. You may just have to break some walls and bones on your way out. Be a Team Player: On the other hand, heists often fail because of somebody in the crew working against them. Be it an undercover law enforcement officer, a bribe from an outside party, or simply somebody who got greedy and decided to take the loot for themselves, there is usually an agent of chaos to muck up the plans. Don’t do this. This game is based on things like the Ocean’s Trilogy and Leverage; not Ronin or the Killing, as good as those are. You’re in it for the long haul. It’s not gonna be one heist, it’s gonna be a dozen or more, and it’s going to take everybody’s skills to pull them off. That’s not to say you can’t be in it for the money. You’re a criminal, after all. But the heists will have plenty of side-loot to keep even the greediest of criminals occupied; if you can grab it, that is. Evil is Allowed – but don’t be a Creep: We’re criminals. Criminals are usually bad guys! (Robin Hood types excepted, of course). So, I’m not gonna say no to people applying with evil alignments. But keep in mind two things. A) the aforementioned rule of being a team player. B) There is zero space in this game for creeps. Edge for the sake of edge is dumb. Violence will happen – it’s D&D – but if at any point a player says they feel uncomfortable with a description of violence, whether it’s too detailed or simply tasteless, I’m gonna ask you to cut it out. You get one warning. TL;DR: Keep it PG-13. Rule of Cool: Heists are cool. Therefore, we as a heist crew will do cool stuff, and look good while doing it. If at any point you want to do something, like “I want to use a spell to make a patron of the casino look like a monster, so I can cause a distraction” or “I want to shoot a grappling hook from my bow, so we can escape the pit vault,” you don’t have to ask. Just do it. As the DM, my job is to let you do cool stuff, so I often will. If I feel like the situation is a bit tricky, I might ask for a roll afterwards. If you ask for something that isn’t supported by the rules, I’ll allow it on a case by case basis, so get creative! Character generation:
Wahad fucked around with this message at 08:42 on Jun 17, 2018 |
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Jun 17, 2018 07:31
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Other game rules: The following optional rules are in effect: Disarm, Mark, Overrun, Shove Aside, Tumble. (DMG pp. 271-272) Flanking: If an ally of yours is opposite position around a creature, you may take advantage on your attack rolls against the flanked creature. Skills: Skills may use alternate ability scores if the fiction allows. For example, one might use STR to intimidate a person by beginning to smash their stuff. Hero Points (and Villain Points) Based on the rules variant in the DMG p264, we will be using Hero Points, though pulled back just a bit. At 1st level, every character starts with 3 hero points. Each time the character gains a level, he or she loses any unspent hero points and gains a new total equal to 3 + half the character's level. A player can spend a hero point whenever he or she makes an attack roll, an ability check, or a saving throw. The player can spend the hero point after the roll is made but before any of its results are applied. Spending the hero point allows the character to roll a d6 and add it to the d20, possibly turning failure into success. A player can spend only 1 hero point per roll. As well, whenever a character fails a death saving throw, the player can spend one hero point to turn the failure into a success. Additionally, you may spend a hero point to create narrative contrivance, like having the right piece of equipment for a challenge, or a useful environmental feature, or even a connection with a certain NPC or organization, so long as it does not contradict any of the established fiction. However, every time you spend a hero point, the DM gets a villain point to spend with the same possibilities as described above for their NPCs. The DM loses all unspent villain points once the PCs gain a new level. Crew Roles As with all heists, the crew hired will have specialists in to cover all the tasks. You, as a criminal, have been hired because of your talents in a specific area. To reflect these talents, when you make your character, pick one of the following roles. You may pick two or more for your application if you feel like your character can fit into multiple roles. However, when the game starts, each chosen applicant will only get one benefit. For example, say someone applies with a rogue called Magnus Quick. He would probably do well in the thief role, as rogues tend to do; but he has decent charisma, so he might also be a fixer. So, Magnus applies with both the thief and the fixer role. Then, when picks are made, as the DM I decide Magnus would be a better fit for the thief role, while somebody else becomes the fixer; so, Magnus joins the crew as the thief. Thief You get proficiency with thieves’ tools. If you already have proficiency, you double your proficiency bonus when using thieves’ tools. Also, you have advantage on Sleight of Hand checks. Hitter As a bonus action, you can make an Insight check contested by the target’s Deception Check to figure out if one creature you can see has resistances or vulnerabilities. If you fail this roll, you cannot roll it again on the same individual until you finish a short rest. If you succeed this roll, you also get advantage on your next attack against them. Also, you have advantage on ability checks to break objects. Hacker You can cast either the Detect Magic spell or the Knock spell as an innate spellcasting ability once without expending a spell slot. You regain the ability to do so upon finishing a long rest. Also, you have advantage on Investigation checks. Mastermind You gain three Planning Points. When an ally makes a skill check, after rolling but before the outcome is determined, spend a planning point to reveal one of your contingencies and roll a 1d20. They can choose which result to use for the outcome of the skill check. You regain your planning points when you finish a long rest and devise new plans. Also, you have advantage on Insight checks. Grifter You get proficiency with disguise kits. If you already have proficiency, you double your proficiency when using a disguise kit. Also, you have advantage on Deception checks. Fixer When attempting to find information related to a heist, or an object that might help you in a heist, you always know somebody to point you in the right direction. When making a deal for something you need, you can make an Insight check contested by that target’s Deception check. If you succeed, the target gives up the information or object freely, as per an owed favor. If you fail, you will have to pay an additional price to get what you want. Also, you have advantage on Persuasion checks.
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Jun 17, 2018 07:31
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 “The triton's heart holds dear its noble deeds; its greatest yearn to quest the ocean depths. In all the world, you'll find no braver soul. No truer blade, nor mage with more conviction. 'Tis little wonder that I left. Pray, wouldst thou mark me for a knight? A soldier? This fickle frame is hardly made for war. My virtue lies in subtlety and guile, in arts of song, of speech, of shadowed deed Of trick'ry that my countrymen despise. A station in the file, though, is no affair of choice amongst the triton world. I served as scout, in want of haleness or might. T'was there I thought my talents would be fit. Alas, my deeds e'en there brought me to scorn; cautious discretion branded cravenness, my expeditions dubbed mere larceny. My place was ne’er beneath the waves. I'd have stayed bound to such a stifling role had fate's hand not enticed my squadron forth to stalk the Seax, a human pirate ship. They captured us anon. While pris'ner there, encaged, I whiled away the time with song. Enthralled, the pirates gathered to my voice. I found more like with them as days passed by. In turn, they were delighted by my mien, and fain as I unfixed my iron bonds. Ere pass of week, I joined the pirate crew, my squadron's freedom as my sole demand. Delighted at my talents' welcoming, I nonetheless departed soon to land. I learned there was e'en more a place for me, more luxuries my skills were apt to earn. The cities had demand for subterfuge. The surface folk found beauty in my song, enthrallent in the sorceries I wove. They offered what my people never did. I may be born of ocean's yawning depth, but it's the world of air I'll make my own." quote:Name: Yren Sivaath Trait: Years of being treated as lesser have made Yren slow to trust, keeping people at arm's length. She's happy to socialize, but if the conversation must be about her, she'd much rather it be about her skills than her inner thoughts or her history. Trait: Yren likes to keep trophies from jobs she's done, and trinkets that remind her of people she's met. Her home, wherever it may be at the time, is filled with these mementos. Ideal: Yren sees the criminal world as her people, and she wants nothing more than for her people to admire her works and respect her talents. Bond: Yren quite likes the crew of the Seax, and even trusts a couple of them. Though she's barely seen them since she moved to the city, she'd quite like to catch up with them again. Flaw: Yren knows well that surface folk find her manner and her music entrancing. When she thinks she can charm her way out of a situation, she tends to get lazy with planning and details. What led me to a life of crime: "I am as nature made me. Curiosity came first to me, and the power to satiate it came perforce. My peoples' scorn taught me to do so under the cloak of silence, hence a thief I became. By the time I breached to the surface world, I was well disposed to pilferage. I had nothing of my own and nothing to barter - only what I could deceive from others or take unseen. My purposes were three. The first, survival. The second, sport, for there is thrill in the dangerous act and pride in the success of my talent. The third, I sought congress with my larcenous brethren: guilds, bands, and other subtle actors. I longed to be in the company of those who'd think well of my virtues." My biggest exploit so far: "Ere crocus' bloom, I heard news of a summons to steal the Jadestone Muse from Lord Starlan's Amnian estate. The client was a Lady of Calimshan, the sculptor's descendant who took insult at her ancestor's oeuvre being kept in a foreign land. Many offers were put before her, but 'twas mine that won, my price low for I knew I needed hire no help. My caper would play out over two acts. First, I invited myself to Lord Starlan's next gala, clad in a Cormyran baroness's glamour and carrying a false invitation. Amidst the eve of merriment and courtship, I persuaded the Lord to show me his prized statue. 'Twas a beauteous thing, an apt-named Muse that could inspire even the most vulgar heart to poetry. There was little in the way of security, but I appraised it to take at least four strong porters to carry. Anon, I slunk again from the party to walk the estate, tracing a path of egress through the servants' quarter. The second act was set a few days hence, whereupon I ambushed the housekeeper on her errands and took on her countenance. I made for the estate, and with a key I'd filched at the gala, made my way inside. Within, I gave orders to the other servants, directing them hither and yon to keep them from my path. Once in the Lord's gallery, I gathered the few guards to me and played for them a song. They fell naturally under my enchantment. It was, from there, a simple matter of directing them to carry the statue for me. They bore it to the street, where the Lady's porters waited with a carriage. The deed done, I bade them return to their posts; and before my sorcery could fade, we were away." A dear friend: "Fhein of the Quill, a peerless counterfeiter and self-titled "pan-Faerunian bastard", is of the few I've come to trust. One of the first surface criminals with whom I came acquainted, Fhein may still be the only one who wholly understands me. We are alike in being odd curiosities among the surface folk, oft coming under question of our histories, and being seldom apt to answer. We've conspired together a score, from gaming-house burglary to noble confidence. 'Tis they who made my invitation to Lord Starlan's gala, they who made the false signet ring that I carry when I must appear noble. They've a clever ear for poetry as well, and shy not away from advising kindly on my verse. Colleagues come and go as the fickle wind, but Fhein is the truest friend I have." A bitter enemy: "Once, I went to rob a gaming-house, only to find another with the same designs. Varra Philomen, a handsome knight of the road with aspirations of city thieving, had come to appraise the place that selfsame day. We met while skulking about the back-rooms, and after assuaging our mutual alarm, decided to conspire. We returned on the morrow to act out our plan, but fortune smiled not upon us. During the guard change, one guard returned to the safe for reasons known only to the gods. Varra was caught in the act, and I, at the gaming table where I'd been diverting the floor's attention, had a choice set before me. I could put myself at risk and spring forth to save my comrade, or I could flee. I did something betwixt the two. I made for the door, but before I escaped, I laid down a spell of thunder and a spell of sleep, hoping to weave enough chaos to cover her flight. She whiled away the next few months in prison. I saw her next at a merchant's banquet, where I meant to help myself to the manor's fineries. She'd caught wind that I'd be found there, and when she got a moment with me alone, made it known that she blamed me for abandoning her in the gaming-hall. She may have been half-right, but only half, and I wasn't disposed to concede. She threatened to expose me as a thief should I not leave forthwith. I spoke words of concession. On our return to the hall, however, I hailed a scarlet-nosed guest with a brimming glass of wine, telling him Varra wanted to converse, and tripped him as he approached. Burgundy spilled all down the front of her lilac dress, and I slunk away, forcing her to face a roomful of turned heads and shocked gasps. With all eyes on her, she was forced by politic to retire from the festivities, and I set to the rest of the night's larceny." Stats roll: http://orokos.com/roll/632652 artist credit: Xavier Collette; ???; hitokirichibi Wol fucked around with this message at 12:12 on Jun 25, 2018 |
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Jun 17, 2018 07:39
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Stat rolls: 5#1d10+7 12 14   Silmgrok Stonefist (Slim) Thief>Fixer>Hitter Silmgrok was born into a life of crime, as part of the Stonefist Syndicate. Mid-level muscle, they had a little piece of town right off the docks, and hired themselves out to the bigger families. He was also the runt. A full foot smaller than his brothers and sisters, and without the natural scariness of his aunts and uncles. This was balanced by being quick, and still stronger and tougher than most people not in his family. But at the end of the day, he didn't fit in. All Silmgrok really got from his family was a lot of hair, and the name. The name is what did him in. Similar to the tribes still out in the wilderness, the Stonefists expected their young to be able to survive by themselves. Weed out the weak. On his 10th nameday, he was cast out with nothing but his clothes, a knife, and a handful of copper. He would be let back in after one year. About a week later he was caught stealing bread. Thinking his name might mean something, Silmgrok proudly told the city watch who he was. They threw him in a jail cell and pinned every unsolved bugbear related crime in the last year on him, trying to get him to flip on the Stonefist Syndicate, give up their secrets. Thinking he was protected, Silmgrok said nothing. He was beaten for a month, and still nothing. Then he was sent to a dungeon far away. And still nothing. His first month in the basement of Castle Tethyr was worse than being beaten back in Waterdeep. In solitary, you get two meals a day, and silence. At first someone would come before dinner and question him. Then they skipped a day. Then two. They gave up soon after. He's still not sure if it was orders, or if some guard took pity on a child in solitary confinement, but he was moved into the general population. His cellmate was a dwarf, with firey red hair, who threatened to beat him to death for some long forgotten slight against his ancestors. That blooddebt aside, Silmgrok and Bromnyl Torunn became fast friends, and he became "Slim" in the process. Even better, they were placed into a cell next to Jassin Siannodel. Jassin was once a thief of no small measure, but ended up with a life sentence for taking the crown jewels of Amn. The main problem being that he was a scant 60 years old when he was caught, and came from a particularly long lived elven line. Four hundred years he had been there, and likely had another 300 to go. Despite this, Jassin was always cheerful, unfailingly polite, and would teach anyone who would listen. At first the three told stories of their exploit. Slim mostly had stories passed down from his family, but Bromnyl had a wild youth, and unfortunately the honor duel for the hand of the fair maiden Lyesmora went terribly wrong, and Hjuldrak Bouldercrush suffered a grievous wound that no one could have forseen, and lost his hand. In return, Bromnyl caught 20 years, and still had 9 to go. Jassin wove such wonderful tales of bravery and daring and luck that you'd hardly believe there was a hint of truth in them, but they were a way to pass the time. In between such stories, however, Jassin taught the two simple exercises of the mind and body. First just breathing and meditation, but then stances and exercises. He claimed they once let him move as silent as a cat, or let him dance from shadow to shadow. Jassin claimed he could walk out of the prison whenever he wanted, and had once or twice. But his family's honor was worth more than his freedom, so he stayed. He taught those that came, and would listen. After 9 years, Brom was released, but promised to be waiting for Slim when he got out. For another year, Slim waited and trained with Jassin, and tried to ignore the snores of his new orcish cellmate. Finally, he was released. True to his word, Brom was waiting for him. True to his word (and free of the wards in the dungeon) Jassin's training let him skip across the sand without a trace, and conjure illusions with flick of the wrist. Slim traveled with Brom to Baldur's Gate, where they feasted, drank, and caught up. Brom had carved out a nice little niche for himself with the thieves guild, playing lookout at first and then smuggling through the docks. A few introductions, and a few drinks later, Slim was working as well. He couldn't yet walk from shadow to shadow, but his training and natural stealth meant he was a natural for bypassing checkpoints and pocketing small items. It had been a rough road, and there were still some bumps, but Slim was free and moving up in the world. ---------------- quote:Why did you become a criminal? What led you down this path? Born into it, I guess. Ain't no bugbear knights that I know of. If it wasn't blood, then throwing me in prison for 10 years for a loaf of bread made sure I wuzzn't gonna play fair when I got out. quote:What is your biggest exploit so far? Lifted a gold'n compass right off the neck of some pirate. Said to always point to his buried treasure, but I sure as 'ell wasn't gonna spend months on a ship lookin' fer it. Trade it for a ruby the size of mah thumb, and traded that to pay back a... friend. But I listened to Jass's stories, I know I can be better. A necklace is cub's play. One day I'll steal the crown right off a king's head. quote:Tell me about one friend you’ve made in your career.  Old Brom, of course! He ain't got mah natural talents for sneakin, but he's tough as nails and gets around alright. He's just about nailed down that walking through shadows trick, too. quote:Tell me about one foe you’ve made in your career.  I ain't been back to Waterdeep since I got out, but rumor has it mah uncle Brocknar ain't too happy I didn't come crawling back to the family. He ain't done nuttin' for me mah whole life, but to him a Stonefist is a Stonefist, and we all work for him. Given 'alf a chance he'll take me for 20% of all I've made, or strangle me as an example. Relentless fucked around with this message at 03:19 on Jun 19, 2018 |
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Jun 17, 2018 08:36
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stat rolls 5#1d10+7 13 15
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Jun 17, 2018 08:43
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non-committal about app'ing, but here's my roll: 8 16 11 15 15
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Jun 17, 2018 08:49
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Rolling for stats: 5#1d10+7 8 12 15 12 9 Valeria Garland, Fighter for Hire "Ah, so you want to know my story, do you? Well, I'll tell you... but you have to buy me a drink, first." "My name is Valeria- or Val, if you prefer- last surviving member of the Iron Lions. A lot of people seem to think the entire company was wiped out, but not all of them. I'm still around, still carrying their name around with me," Val pauses to take a large gulp of her drink, "And I might be the only one left doing that." "What happened? We were sold out by one of our own, that's what happened. It was supposed to be a simple job, guarding a few caravans as they traveled down the roads, but it wasn't as simple as we thought. The whole thing ended up being a trap, set up by the Blood Ravens, a group of ruthless mercenaries who happen to very angry at us. We ended up clashing with them during our last job, and during the fight we had with them, we took down their leader, and, as you probably expect, they were noooooot exactly happy about that, and they might've wanted revenge against us for what we did to them." "...And they got that revenge. None of us saw it coming. Alistair, a man I-we thought we could all trust kept telling us that this would be an easy job, that there'd be nothing to worry about, and we believed him. Alistair has always been a trustworthy man, and we had no reason to doubt him at the time. We didn't think he would ever betray us... and we were wrong." "We were surrounded, and unprepared, and... that was it for us. The Iron Lions, a group known for their fierceness, gone, almost in an instant. Not even the toughest of us managed to survive that day... except for me. Somehow, I was the only one who managed to get out of that whole mess alive. How? Luck of the Gods, I guess." "Annnnd that's about it. Not exactly the happiest tale, I know, but there you have it." quote:Why did you become a criminal? What led you down this path? "Old habits die hard, as they say. I've always been doing jobs for money. The only difference between then and now is that the jobs I've been involved with recently are a little more on the dirty side of things." "Do I want revenge against the people who destroyed my company? Mm..." Val leans back as far as she can on her chair, and taps a finger on her chin as she considers the question, "...As strange as it sounds, not really? Don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean I'm fine with the events that lead to our downfall, but I suppose I'm more... baffled than angry? Me and Alistair have been friends for as long as we can remember, and he's always been someone I could rely on, so I'm... still having a hard time believing he did what he did. What reason did he have to betray us? Was it money? Did they threaten him? Or was there something else? I do not know. If I ever see him again, I hope to get the answers out of him so I could finally know why." "After I punch him as hard as I can in the face first, anyways." "Annyyyways, that aside, I hope to get enough money to rebuild the company again. I could use all the skills I've learned over the years to do more legal jobs, but.." Val shrugs, "Let's be honest here, that way is too slow, and too boring, and this has been much more lucrative so far. Sure, there's a lot more danger involved, but what's life without a little risk, yea?" quote:What is your biggest exploit so far? "Oh, good, I can finally tell a less depressing story." "There was this noble who had this rare, magical scroll with him, and there are certain people out there who would pay an exorbitant amount to get that scroll. As you've probably guessed by now, a scroll as valuable as that isn't exactly easy to obtain. It's not like we could stroll right in, and ask politely for it. See, it was put in this vault, underneath the noble's mansion, and it was guarded by countless magical defenses. Now, but I might not know much about magic, but that doesn't mean I'm dim. As I've said, I've learned a lot in my ears of being part of the Iron Lions, and one of those things is how to strategise, and how to lead others as a single, working unit." "With the help of someone I know (I'll get to him in a minute, don't worry), I assembled a group with the talents needed to pull off what needed to be done. It took months of planning, but it was all worth it in the end; I lead the group down, and we managed to make it past all those magical defences that were put in place, break the vault, and get out with the scroll without a hitch." "...Well, fine, we did end up getting into a fight with some kind of magical beast before we got out, but that only proved to only be a small problem. I think it was supposed to intimidate us, but it's hard to intimidate someone who's already been through hell already. Anyways, we took the beast down, got out, and made some good money that day. The noble we stole it from? Oh, he was mad. Furious, even. Last I heard, he's still trying to find out who took his precious object from him. Am I worried? No, not really. If he finds out, he'll find out. There's no sense worrying about it when I could be thinking about my next job instead." quote:Tell me about one friend you’ve made in your career. "So the man who helped me out with the job? His name is Styx, a half-orc who owns the Golden Coin Tavern. Styx was close friends with my old leader, and when he heard about what happened to him and the rest of the Lions... Yea, he didn't take it well." "Still, Styx is a good man. He took care of me when I had nowhere else to go, and even now, he helps me out when he can. He's practically got his ear on the ground on what's happening in the city, and he's always letting me know whenever there's a potential job opening for me, and he helped me out finding a crew capable enough for my last job." "I owe him a lot. It's just too bad being good friends doesn't mean getting free drinks, but ah well." quote:Tell me about one foe you’ve made in your career. "So, back to the scroll for a bit. I wasn't the only one that was after it. There were others who wanted it as well, and there was one person in particular who wasn't happy that I was the one who got it first. Her name is Adriana Fellwind. Adriana, from what Styx told me, is a "collector" of everything magical related, and she's more interested in increasing her own magical power than she is in gold, and when she found out that someone else took the scroll she's been after for so long, she was furious, even more furious than the noble we stole it from, if you could believe that, and she confronted me about it one day, made some vague threats my way, and told me to never interfere with her plans ever again, or else she'll make me sorry... or something like that. Styx thinks she's going to cause us some big problems in the future, but I'm not too worried. I've handled worse." "It's too bad she hates me. She's pretty cute, and I wouldn't mind sharing a drink with her someday, but that doesn't look like that's going to ever happen. Ah well." quote:Name: Valeria Garland (But you can call me Val) Tardzilla fucked around with this message at 18:24 on Jun 24, 2018 |
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Jun 17, 2018 09:11
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stats: 5#1d10+7 10 16 17 12 13 App to come.
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Jun 17, 2018 09:17
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Stats: 5#1d10+7 16 16 12 App incoming, maybe a kobold rogue? berenzen fucked around with this message at 10:07 on Jun 17, 2018 |
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Jun 17, 2018 09:27
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Hell yeah crimes! Goblin Magic something right here. Stats - 16, 12, 10, 10, WIP:  Tamtam Rattatam, The (Un)Fortunate Son "Everything has a value. But this thing especially, so it's mine now." Once upon a time, there was a Goblin, his name was Tamtam. He was a smart goblin, but not very smart on reflection because of where the story goes. He schmoozed through the notoriously deadly upbringing of his race, slid deftly around any of the hard-back breaking labour into a position of ease and comfort and was very much one for sneaking into the secret places of the world and getting his grubby little hands on what ever he could. He would have most likely been one of the lucky Goblins who wouldn't get eaten by monsters, or stabbed by adventurers. And then he stole a book he really shouldn't have stolen from a place he really shouldn't have been inside. Once upon a time, there was a Hag, an ancient and powerful hag that went by the name, 'The Good Mother'. In her earlier years centuries ago, she was an unholy terror that stalked the countrysides of the Swords Coast, outwitting, evading, and striking down all the attempts to stop her at every step. And then in what could be assumed her twilight years when she decided the terrorizing just wasn't doing it for her anymore, so she faked her own death in dramatic fashion in her 'final confrontation', settled down in the deepest and darkest parts of the swamps, in a nice little hut and wrote a little book that contained a mere fragment of her immense power as a hobby to whittle away the years. This book was then stolen from her hut by a Goblin, and she was very unhappy with that turn of events. But she was also absolutely bored out of her gourd from centuries of drudgery and occasionally tormenting travellers that strayed too far off the path and so whilst she was very capable of doing the most horrific and terrible things to this pesky Goblin that stole from her, she decided to instead cut him a deal in the interest of giving her another 'pet project' to entertain herself with. "Pay back unto me, seven-fold the value of what ye hath stolen, or suffer seven-fold retribution." Tamtam had a brief flash of premonition, that the price that was going to be demanded of him was far, far more then he could possibly ever gather in his entire lifetime, but he also had a great fondest for his own skin and was very certain that attempts to try and lie or weasel his way out of this deal or worse, refused outright would put that highly priced commodity at risk. And so forced into an impossible decision of which there was no conceivable way to duck out of it this time, Tamtam was forced to accept an offer he couldn't refuse. But at least she let him keep the book. The Good Mother believes in sporting chances after all. --- Trait: I like to squeeze into small places where no one else can get to me. ('The perks of being small in a tall folk's world') Trait: Each time you wake up, the small blemish on your face appears in a different place ('She put her evil eye on me as part of the deal, so she can check in at any time.') Ideal: People. I help the people who help me, that's what keeps Bond: I escaped my life of poverty by robbing an important person, and I'm wanted for it. ('Twice in fact') Flaw: It's not stealing if I need It more than someone else. ('If you had what I had you'd do it too') What led me to a life of crime: "Led? I leaped into life of crime with panache and grace and the knowledge that I'm from a race that is universally despised by most tall folk, and they get awful leery about the likes of me being given any jobs in polite company, so yes stealing to survive is a result and it's tough, but I don't get that choice. Except now I'm not stealing for just me, now I am stealing for Mother too." My biggest exploit so far: "Do you know who Abbathor is? No? Me neither, but he's a God apparently, some sort of Dwarven God of Greed or something I dunno that sorta thing you keep on the down low and is populated by real nobby types with lots of money and lots of things that are pretty illegal under the city rules and so won't go to the guards if they get robbed in case they also get caught. So I squeezed into a food cart being delivered to a big posh weird ceremonial do they were having, waited until they were busy with what ever it is Dwarves do when they are being religious and swiped the biggest shiniest thing I could get my hands on and booked it. It turned out to be an important relic of theirs but what did they need it for? They're rich enough as it is."  A dear friend: "Erma Golbez, quaint tea-shop owner, octogenarian, and notorious deal-broker for the strange and supernatural that have their made their business in Waterdeep. When 'Mother' wants me to make payments I make them to Erma and she ensures it reaches where it needs to go, or when 'Mother' desires something she has seen from my 'job', I will get any details I need from Erma. Despite this however if there is something below the table involving 'outside' entities happening anywhere within this city Erma will most likely know about it and will be willing to share. For a price."  A bitter enemy: Overseer Harkyl Goldfinger - "So err... Turns out that the little stunt I pulled on that group I mentioned earlier, they got really pissed off about that thing I stole. Now this one apparently owns a bunch of contracts for the Mining Guild here in Waterdeep and is holding onto them with an airtight grip, and thus has a bit of pull in the city proper since a lot of the trades in the city need the ore that this dwarf can provide. And he is also technically the one who runs that cult and collaborated with his cronies to ensure that that they can thoroughly line their own pockets in a big under the table monopoly sort of way and that item in question was a crystallised dragon's heart that was to be offered to their god, and then it wasn't there when they went to fetch it. Now I am pretty sure he didn't see me take it, but all the same I would rather not get found out by rich and powerful noble with a grudge and a mean streak longer than he is tall behind him. In hindsight maybe I should stop stealing from dangerous people. --- quote:Name: Tamtam Rattatam TheNabster fucked around with this message at 20:34 on Jun 20, 2018 |
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Jun 17, 2018 09:35
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Interest post.
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Jun 17, 2018 10:08
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App to come Stat Roll 14 11 9 13 9 Does the Total modifier rule include the dropped roll, or am I sneaking in with the worst allowable "+2"?
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Jun 17, 2018 11:04
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Silynt posted:App to come Unfortunately, the worst allowable +2, yes.
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Jun 17, 2018 11:08
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Interest post, though after talking with you and others on the app for the Strahd game I am going to force myself to play something I haven't played before. Sylvar, Gentleman Thief  http://orokos.com/roll/633959 (14, 14, 12, 12, 10) Name: Sylvar, Gentleman Thief Race: Eladrin (Spring) Age: 115 Size: Medium (6'4") Class: Bard (3; Valor) Alignment: Lawful Neutral Background: Mercenary Veteran Role: Mastermind > Thief > Fixer Languages: Common, Elvish Stats Hit Points: 24 Initiative: +4 AC: 14 (+1 when Buckler is readied) Speed: 30 ft.; swim 30 ft. Passive Perception: 13 Passive Investigation: 12 Passive Insight: 13 Attributes (Modifier/Saving Throw) Strength: 8 (-1/-1) Dexterity: 16 (+3/+5) Constitution: 14 (+2/+2) Intelligence: 12 (+1/+1) Wisdom: 12 (+1/+1) Charisma: 20 (+5/+7) Skills (Proficiency Bolded) Acrobatics +4 Animal Handling +2 Arcana +2 Athletics +1 Deception +5 History +3 Insight +3 Intimidation +5 Investigation +2 Medicine +2 Nature +2 Perception +3 Performance +5 Persuasion* +10 Religion +2 Sleight of Hand* +9 Stealth +4 Survival +2 Armor Proficiency: Light, medium, shields Weapon Proficiency: Simple weapons, martial weapons, hand crossbows, longbows, rapiers, shortswords Tools: Drum; Flute; Lyre; Gaming Features: Jack of All Trades Song of Rest Trance Fey Ancestry (advantage on charm, immune to sleep) Fey Step: As a bonus action, you can magically teleport up to 30 feet to an unoccupied space you can see. Once you use this trait, you can’t do so again until you finish a short or long rest. When you reach 3rd level, your Fey Step gains an additional effect based on your season; if the effect requires a saving throw, the DC equals 8 + your proficiency bonus + your Charisma modifier. * Spring: When you use your Fey Step, you can touch one willing creature within 5 feet of you. That creature then teleports instead of you, appearing in an unoccupied space of your choice that you can see within 30 feet of you. * Summer: Immediately after you use your Fey Step, each creature of your choice that you can see within 5 feet of you takes fire damage equal to your Charisma modifier (minimum of 1 damage). * Autumn: Immediately after you use your Fey Step, up to two creatures of your choice that you can see within 10 feet of you must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw or be charmed by you for 1 minute, or until you or your companions deal any damage to it. * Winter: When you use your Fey Step, one creature of your choice that you can see within 5 feet of you before you teleport must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw or be frightened of you until the end of your next turn. Feats: Actor (Advantage on Deception and Performance when pretending to be someone else, mimic other's voices) Spell Save DC: 14 Spell Attack Modifier: 6 Cantrips: Prestidigitation Vicious Mockery Known/Prepared Spells: Charm Person Cure Wounds Hideous Laughter Blindness/Deafness Invisibility Zone of Truth Equipment: Studded leather armour Rapier (1d8 piercing; finesse) Rapier (1d8 piercing, finesse) Dagger (1d4 piercing; finesse; light; thrown 20/60) Buckler (+1 AC, can be equipped or stowed as a weapon) Lyre Disguise kit Backpack: Leather Bedroll Candle (5) Ration day (5) Costume (2) Waterskin 165 gp Ideal: There may be honor among thieves, but definitely no trust. The rules are applied without exception or mercy. Bond: Loyal to the crew of his job without question, until the job ends. Flaw: Sometimes drawn in to the theater of the heist to the detriment of its success. What led me to a life of crime: Sheltered from the world for his youth, Sylvar's tribe of elves doesn't interact with the outside world. Once he reached adulthood, he boarded the first ship he could find in search of exploration - and the money to fund that exploration. One thing led to another... My biggest exploit so far: Sylvar once impersonated a goblin banker half his height in the process of cleaning out the vault of every last gold. A dear friend: Barristan, a human who he once ended up stranded on an island with after a shipwreck during a job gone wrong. A bitter enemy: His family, who wish for him to return home to seclusion and cease his young and rebellious ways. Nephzinho fucked around with this message at 19:00 on Jun 18, 2018 |
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Jun 17, 2018 15:11
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 Colwen Lithlinde, Draconic Sorcerer When you first look upon Colwen, the most striking aspect of her is the tiny brass flecks that shimmer across her skin. Most people assume it's a trick of the light, rather than a hint of dragon in her family tree. The effect is quite enchanting, she's found, and her draconic ancestor's gregarious nature is certainly most evident in the way she carries herself and relates to people. She's aware enough of her own strengths, and lack thereof, to surround herself with the sort of people who can compensate for them. Who needs an education in the mysteries of the cosmos, or even magic for that matter, when you can simply flutter your eyelashes and buy a stuffy academic a drink? They do love to yammer on, after all, and any mystery you bring them is like a particularly delightful gift. Of course, that's not to say that she uses these gifts for... entirely legitimate purposes. Colwen's made her way through the world as what some might name a conman, a grifter, or a general femme fatale. Her general game is to pretend to be a scion of a minor noble house. Too small to really suspect, particularly when she's acting every bit the part, and just interesting enough to make her way into a larger target's general orbit. The exact endgame varies, of course, but it often boils down to exhorting money to pay off fictional debts in return for trade concessions, counterfeit heirlooms, or even her hand in marriage. It's fantastic money, should everything go well, but she's found it to be a bit rote lately. It was almost like work, rather than the sheer expression of joy that it had been. She leapt at the chance to get involved at this plot, simply because her scams were starting to feel a little stale. Of course, there is the minor matter of that Masked Lord she scammed a while back... but surely he won't get involved. The plan will run like a dream! It always does. What led her to a life of crime: It was a healthy mix of necessity, at first, and then later a frank appreciation for the rush of a scam well-done. Colwen grew up in quite a poor household, her mother struggling to make ends meet after her father had passed away on the field of battle. Times were hard and she learned the arts of emotional manipulation by panhandling in the bustling streets of Neverwinter. The right bearing to make that traveler toss a clipped silver her way instead of to one of her competitors. The right approach to melt even the hardest heart with a sad look and grubby clothes. From there, she was involved in organizing the urchins into something of an organized collective. She'd gladly defer much of the credit to the actual brains behind the operation, given that it was really suggested as more of a lark, but she did do quite a bit of legwork in rounding them together. Once the cutthroat competition for spare change was defused, replaced with a communal fund, that opened up quite a bit of opportunity for these grubby children to set their eyes on larger targets. Snatch and grabs on an adventurer's purse, for instance, or faked injuries at the hands of a merchant's cart. More than a few found themselves on the wrong side of a crowd after Colwen worked up a good stage cry. She, as mentioned, fell in love with the rush. Scams grew in complexity and scope as she did herself, culminating in... Her biggest exploit so far: The so-called Cynosure Debacle. And, indeed, it most certainly was... for Kyrin Hawkwinter, one of Waterdeep's mysterious Masked Lords. Colwen, in the guise of a minor Cormyrian noble, had spent the weeks and months leading up to the Cynosure Ball working her way into Kyrin's confidence. It was, for her, one of those perfect marriages of business and pleasure. Kyrin was quite charming, if a bit prone to noble arrogance, and he was remarkably wealthy. Emphasis most certainly on was. The culmination of her plot involved securing the token to defuse his vault's magical defenses, always kept close upon his body, so a trusted friend or three could empty it while all involved were occupied by the largest social event of the season. The plan, as is the dream, went off without a hitch. Colwen secured the ensorcelled amulet that unlocked the myriad defenses, replaced it with a rather nice replica, passed the original to a friend disguised as a servant, and slipped away to use the privy. By the time Kyrin noticed the switch, the resulting scene on the ballroom floor giving the Debacle its name, she and her associates were exiting the city on a small, anonymous trader's sloop. A dear friend: Talei "Inknose" Lainel. One of the few people from Neverwinter with whom Colwen has kept in constant contact, Talei has been a friend, confidante, and go-to resource on knowledge and general theory for the sorceress. Colwen trusts her implicitly, as much as that is possible in this business, and would do just about anything for her if asked. The two bicker like siblings and, indeed, Colwen has always viewed her as a little sister. A bitter enemy: Kyrin Hawkwinter. The Masked Lord has spent quite a bit of time and effort tracking down those that dared to rob him. Even as the event itself fades into seasons past, he's simply redoubled his efforts to catch the trail. His house is in quite a bit of financial trouble, particularly given the sheer amount of favors he's called in to aid in the search, but that seems to only make him more dogged. It's unclear how much he's managed to connect Colwen's assumed persona to her real self, but she certainly has no intention of finding out. quote:Name: Colwen Lithlinde Tricky fucked around with this message at 00:50 on Jun 19, 2018 |
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Jun 17, 2018 15:36
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Thinking a Kenku Cleric of Trickery, Churchbells. Mastermind > Fixer > Grifter. Ability Scores: 5#1d10+7 15 11 8 11 15 
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Jun 17, 2018 15:55
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 A small bird dressed in fancy clothes heads into town. He (or they, it is hard to tell with the birdfolk) is dressed somewhat more raffishly than many of the other Kenku that walk through your district. Two swords dangling at his belt are a sign of possible danger or simple caution. They stop at every single vendor and street urchin and they seem to be spreading money around, but apparently not just to show off. Some of the beggars come back later to find the bird man and tell him what they may or may not have seen. He performs card readings in taverns, talks and talks and talks. It is getting wearisome. If this creature is a thief then he doesn't act like one! He wants to be seen, he tells outrageous tales and plays dice. This could be any of a hundred sell swords that your masters are tracking. Eventually you give up and head back towards your home. It is only later that you begin to hear of how many nobles lost at dice, or how many people are convinced that their signet rings have been replaced with forgeries or how many different nobles have lost so much money that you might have thought that tracking the Kenku might have been a sensible idea. But it is a bit late now for all that. What led me to a life of crime: I am Kenku. We are always regarded as creatures of theft and double dealing. I tried, for a while at least, to make a living as a runner and porter throughout a few cities on the sword coast. Instead I found that this simply led to everyone assuming I was faking the messages. I grew angry at the casual speciesism and rampant imbecility of humans who considered my folk "uncreative". And so I took my apparent untrustworthiness and fashioned it into a weapon to strike the smugness from their faces. I succeeded. I have made myself renowned amongst my folk as a scourge for the stupid and supporter of the downtrodden, stealing from wealthy humans who think they can gull us with ease or those who think they are untrusting enough of the bird folk so how could they be taken in. My biggest exploit so far: Have you ever heard of the expression "You cannot fool an honest man"? I like to think it is true. Which is why I have been able to fool, by my recollection, 10 different noble houses into purchasing "original" artworks produced by old masters. They are all fakes, not a lick of pain on them is over a month old and yet the nobility who pride themselves on their breeding and refinement cannot tell the difference between fake and real. It is joyous to watch them coo over things that a boy of 9 can produce in a mere 2 days. A dear friend: Teaches Furthest. My mentor and elder of my rookery. When I decided to get involved in the more dishonest trade it was he who helped teach me how to fight. He used to be a rogue of some skill back in the day before his back was broken, but he can still jump and leap it's just that he can now be recognised to easily by his run. He teaches and instructs and keeps some of the other criminal gangs out of the way. Our people are often recruited out but a tithe is always paid to the poorest. He let's no-one starve in his rookery and he is a friend who has given me places to hide when the heat is on. A bitter enemy: Horst Von Rajin. My family was broken once. We were travelling to a new city and had stopped off in a little steading. Father was doing his usual juggling, mother was cooking and my sister was playing with the local children. We were a family and happy. And then the local lord demanded we move, he had no time for us, said we were "leaching the creativity from his lands". We couldn't move on just yet as we didn't want to go into the night without the full flock. We tried to talk to him. He didn't even look at us he just said "deal with them", to his Sargent. They burned our caravan, they butchered my sister. Picked her up and just threw her to one side, they tried to do the same to the rest of us but we ran. I past through that steading on the last day I was a courier. Do you know what I saw in that manor when I was supposed to be bringing a message to some useless functionary who was working for a murderer? I saw my sisters broken body up on the wall like a trophy. They had labelled her as "Bird Fiend, slain by Horst Von Rajin". I still remember the sound she made when she died. I screamed that noise the nobles face as I tore off the couriers robes. Once I am strong I am going to come for him and I am going to take his hope from him first. Then I will give him the mercy of a swift end. quote:Name: Breaking Whisper Here's my roll 17, 8, 14, 14 ,9 Josef bugman fucked around with this message at 19:00 on Jun 17, 2018 |
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Jun 17, 2018 16:22
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Interested
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Jun 17, 2018 16:36
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e: Not gonna have time to slap something together that I'm satisfied with, so just gonna step aside. Shame to waste a really good stat roll, but thems the breaks. Successful Businessmanga fucked around with this message at 00:10 on Jun 20, 2018 |
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Jun 17, 2018 17:41
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Also interested.
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Jun 17, 2018 17:45
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 Sheet Roles: Thief, Hitter, Mastermind (no preference really, just what he could feasibly do well.) -- Funny thing about war...it's supposed to end. Sometimes, though...no, I guess it's always. You always bring it back with you. They give you a badge, and they tell you where to go, up which sons of bitches to stick your blade, your arrows. They don't tell you about the women. The children. About what you have to leave behind to make that badge mean something. Some of us don't come back at all. Some of us...well, we make it back. But we're just not us anymore. Our wives, our doctors, our families and friends...they see us. The us that we can't, we don't, when we look in the mirror. Guess I was one of those. I didn't have anything left. I left it all out there, on those places where people aren't supposed to go. Hope. Anger. Fear. Confusion. Denial. Just...me. Whoever I was before, I wasn't. I couldn't be. So, how did I end up getting that letter? How am I mixed up in all this pig-poo poo, this mess? Honestly, I got no gods-damned idea. -- quote:Why did you become a criminal? What led you down this path? PurplieNurplie fucked around with this message at 00:36 on Jun 22, 2018 |
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Jun 17, 2018 17:53
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I want to try this out: Stats: 16 14 16 15 Question: Can I use the Minotaur Race UA?
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Jun 17, 2018 21:24
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Interest post, stats for now! Stats: 5#1d10+7 14 15
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Jun 17, 2018 21:39
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Zoinker posted:I want to try this out: Eh, I don't think minotaurs are a good fit for an FR based game. They're a little too monstrous there. Wahad fucked around with this message at 21:47 on Jun 17, 2018 |
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Jun 17, 2018 21:45
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Wahad posted:Eh, I don't think minotaurs are a good fit for an FR based game. They're a little too monstrous there. Fair enough, I'll think of something else.
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Jun 17, 2018 21:52
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Stats 11 16 17 9 8 Interest post for now.
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Jun 18, 2018 01:05
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Interest post. Will roll after dinner
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Jun 18, 2018 01:35
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Stat Block: 17, 9, 11, 13, 15 Hey, look! A sheet! There's fluff to come, and I've got a couple of fun angles for this character. I'll make sure it happens today since I'm oh so late. My apologies for taking so long D: Update: Sheet's done! Backstory too! Thia Taletreader  Thia wasn't given her adult name. She took it. Just like the coin purses of petty nobles and minor merchants, bread from lowly bakers, and the acknowledgment of her god. It's not Thia didn't have parents more that she didn't respect them. Sometimes good, simple folk have strange children with troubled souls. They can't find rest, can't take pleasure in humble lives, and always yearn for more. It's the start of many stories, humble beginnings and a yearning for adventure, and certainly could have led to the life of a teenage folk hero. A puckish rogue with a heart of gold taking the world by storm, but, that was never Thia Taletreader. Make no mistake, the poverty she endured and the conditions that gave birth to the thief that she was were truly grotesque. While her parents and ilk had certainly been smallminded folk, weary of the outside world and content to self-sustain, they had at least provided for each other. Outside of their little commune, things weren't so pure and simple. Coin moved mountains and a lack of it was a surefire way to end up in the stockade. Thia learned quickly to have a great distaste for anyone who could afford fine clothing, jewelry, and wine. They were always the cruelest of the lot, their twinkling trinkets filling the void where a soul might have been once but no longer resided. It was after one particularly violent run in that Thia found herself limping down a Waterdeep alley only to find a makeshift temple hidden among the shadows. It was a quiet place, a sort of sanctuary, though one that came at a cost as well as any other. Thia had spent years upon years looking for a home away from home. She was more than eager to pay her way in tribute, stolen tokens of wealth and spilled wine, ever hopeful to turn the attention of the thieve's god to herself. Bigger scores, larger tributes, greater risks. Eventually, even the gods bow to those who demand their recognition ceaselessly. So too did Mask, anointing his new cleric with a purview that fit an ambition that could be satisfied. Thus began a cycle that haunts the elven woman to this day. Small schemes gave birth to larger plots, from contraband smuggling to gambling rings to orphan pickpockets to high stake heists. Nothing seems to satisfy her for long. In many ways, she's become just as empty as the people she loathes. It is only in fleeting moments of kindness, generous gifts to children and parents, booze for drunkards, and employing the otherwise unemployable with fair and good pay that she finds herself better than those she claims to despise. Now, she's found a new opportunity from faceless, nameless benefactors. One she simply can not refuse. After all, she was starting to get bored. Laying low was never her strong suit. What led Thia to a life of crime: Poverty. At least, that's how it started. Things like this never really just stick with impoverishment and disenfranchisement, do they? Sure, the lads smuggling in bootlegs and contraband are putting food on the table. Goons running collections probably just trying to get by. That's how Thia started out. A runner, then a pickpocket, occasionally a lookout. But when the jobs start getting bigger and the stakes all the more drastic? When it's a fortune on the line, not a meal or a night by a warm fire under a sturdy roof? Then you're doing it for the kicks. You're doing it because you want more. You want to be more. Thia won't stand to be worthless ever again. Thia's biggest exploit so far: The Mayweather Faire Caravan. A merchant caravan, three carts and a handful of guards carrying quite a hefty sum of gold. Big deal, big trade exchange. No one was supposed to know about it. Didn't stop Thia's little band of fledgling "adventurers", if you can call them that without holding your breath. It was all a manner of using the night to their advantage. Hushing flames and spreading confusion. Giving the guards something to chase, and leaving them nothing to return to. The pot was big, too big for the greedy bunch, and though they managed to take nearly five thousand gold pieces no one person walked away with more than a couple hundred. The hounds were on them, and in the night, they buried the gold in the woods and made a pact. A tontine. Last one alive would come back and claim the gold. That was nearly a decade ago. A good friend: Natalia Rytov and Thia didn't start off friends as much as rivals on opposite sides of the law. Natalia was a young diviner and an adventurer aiding the Waterdeep city guard in their pursuit of a smuggling ring bringing in cheap wines and passing them off as finer things for an unknowably large profit while undermining the city's local color. It was the natural progression of any of Thia's schemes, start small and grow in ambition and scope, and the first to have come to fruition since she had sought to hide among the huddled masses after the Mayweather Faire Caravan job went so incredibly poorly. The two played Cat and Mouse for some time, and though Natalie proved the more intelligent of the two Thia's clever, and at times painfully simple, solutions to problems often left the diviner detective with nothing to show for her efforts. Eventually, the conflict boiled over into private accusations and demands, only for the two to be interrupted by one of the neighborhood children begging for gold for food and medicine. Thia's generous on the spot donation gave Natalia pause, and she returned to the city guard to give her apologetic resignation. Since then, she's traveled all about Faerun but always made an effort to stop in and check on Thia whenever in Waterdeep. The two have helped each other out of a handful of binds, and there is a deep camaraderie if not unspoken affection that neither seems comfortable breaching the subject of. A bitter enemy: Marcellus Dinarus. They had a thing. Once. Back before the Mayweather Faire Caravan job. It wasn't a good thing, really. The kind of thing you don't write home about if you had a home to write to. He was the muscle, far from tender but altogether exciting. But see, with Marcellus was that he liked it when things got loud. He especially liked it when they got violent. He killed the bratty little merchant boy escorting his father's unthinkable sum. Some form of dowry or something or other. Took the boy's head clean off. The whole plan blew up in their faces right then and there, but for Marcellus, it was the most exciting thing that could have happened. Ever since then, the lot of them had all been driven to hiding. Lay low, live meagerly, more than enough to do that. But Marcellus spent his share too fast and he never did seem to see the wisdom in patience. Might explain why the tontine pool keeps getting smaller and smaller. Just last week, Thron Thistlefoot was gutted in an alley by a middle-aged man with a curved blade. That's the fourth of their little band to die a gruesome death. Only three of them left, present company included. quote:Name: Thia Taletreader Personality Trait: I often deadpan. It's hard to tell when I'm joking. Personality Trait: I'm a miser with coin. That is, until children are involved. Ideal: I'll leave my mark on bankrupt noble houses and in merchant books filled in red. They'll speak of my deeds in a hushed panic, clutching their coin purses. Bond: I know what it's like to be a street urchin and collect them where ever I go. Flaw: My ambitions blind me. Eventually, inevitably, I push too far. GenuineRevelry fucked around with this message at 18:35 on Jun 25, 2018 |
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Jun 18, 2018 03:24
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 Ralomenor Siannodel, The The Flashing Blade "Moonlight chases upon the rooftops, flashing blades, and daring escapades. That is my life." It all started with stealing to survive. Ralomenor Siannodel was not always a criminal, not always a dashing rogue, not always a gentleman thief. Once he was a young elf, happy with his family. But when they took him to tour Waterdeep things fell apart. He got distracted, separated from his family, and lost. He went through a number of events, got in trouble and ran about Waterdeep. Finally he found his family again. Or rather the scene of their death. He didn't know what happened to them, who killed them or why. He didn't know how to get home. But what would home be without his family? Forlorn and lost in more ways than one he wandered about in a daze. He grew weak from hunger and tired from lack of sleep. His face dirt and tear stained he collapsed in a heap in one of the many alleys. There he would have likely passed away, having given up on everything, had a small child not helped him. Poking him with a stick, then when he finally reacted bringing him some bread. Ralomenor stirred, he ate the bread and looked upon the child. The child was also homeless, familyless, abandoned and alone. Ralomenor felt a kinship with the child and his hope was rekindled. The child took him in, teaching him the ways of the streets, where to go to steal food, and how to do so, how to find shelter, clothes, and other necessities. And Ralomenor helped the child survive. In time they found other children, other urchins, and banded together to survive. They stole, they fought when necessary to survive or to escape. And the child grew up, and moved on. The other children followed suit. As the decades went on the group would take in more children with no one else, teach them the streets, and churn them out when they were old enough. Being an elf Ralomenor aged slower, remaining with the urchin group for decades as children came and went. In time he clearly was outgrowing the urchin lifestyle. He too left the band behind. He went out into the world, though returning time and again to Waterdeep. Becoming a fulltime thief. Stealing to survive yes. But in the decades of surviving on the streets he had found that he never felt quite as alive as when pulling off a great theft. He became a professional thief. Breaking and entering, stealing priceless items through complicated plans, and making a daring and exciting escape. Not all of his plans worked perfectly, he wasn't the greatest of planners. He was a good look out, great at the dashing rogue thing, the running about in the moonlight and exciting chases and daring fights. He had a steady hand and was good with a set of lockpicks. And of course he wasn't as charming as he would have liked. Still he made a name for himself as the The Flashing Blade. Even going so far on occasion to leave a warning note to up the level of excitement and danger. Of course on those occasions when he worked with other thieves they didn't care for that aspect. What led me to a life of crime: "Nothing led me to a life of crime. Not at first. I needed to steal to survive. Once I was grown perhaps I could have found another life. But stealing to survive awoke something within me. Now I steal for the thrill of it. Yes the money I make by stealing is nice, but the mere act of pitting my life on the line for the heist. That is what I live for. My biggest exploit so far: "Hmm that would have to be the Scarlet Diamond of Telnal. A beautiful stone. The former owner was one Malnorel Tavanaa. An elf of quite some repute. Rich, influential. Greedy. And vain. He had recently acquired the Scarlet Diamond of Telnal, and wished to show it off to all his friends, and evious rivals. So he threw a fancy party on his pleasure yacht. A cruise that all the best and most influential would want to be on. I sent a challenge letter. And how overconfident he was! He believed his eyes, his men, his golems, would be enough. I used a disguise and managed to infiltrate the yacht. Then once the pleasure cruise was on its way I moved carefully about the deck, flitting from shadow to shadow, and putting out the lights on my way. The Diamond was on prominent display, guarded by a pair of golems. An impressive security measure, but the night had grown long. Being an elf Malnorel was certain confident in his ability to see, and what could get past his golems? As the lights went out some panicked, but he was still confident. I slipped in, invisible to him and his golems, and took the Diamond from right in front of him. As soon as he noticed it was missing he panicked, further sowing confusion and disarray. I escaped in the confusion, invisible in the darkness. I slipped overboard and swiftly swam away. I sold the Diamond eventually, and the money has been spent since, but it was quite the escapade."  A dear friend: "Victor Shade, is an old criminal. Decades ago I and my band found him, lost and alone. He had lost his family. He had nowhere to go and didn't know how to survive on the street. We took him in, took care of him, trained him, and in time he left to make a name for himself. He grew into a strong and swift young man. He worked as a sailor, turned to piracy, then to a life of crime on the open road, working as a highwayman and a bandit. Before returning to the city life. He had grown, but he was starting to slow. He settled down, a rich man now, with no one around who really knew his past. He found an orphanage, and secretly trained the orphaned as we once did. To be thieves, fighters, and survivors. He runs a somewhat successful Thieves Band now making use of the orphans and those who have grown up in his orphanage. But on the surface he is simply a retired merchant who has made it good. I kept touch with him as best I could over the decades, and I have made contributions to his orphanage over the years. Even now we are still good friends."  A bitter enemy: Malnorel Tavanaa - "As I mentioned before the elf Malnorel Tavanaa is rich and influential, and styles himself as a noble. He acquires many great treasures. And announces them to the world. As if daring me to try and steal them. The Scarlet Diamond of Telnal was the most notable event of course. But he has made other purchases before, and since. It seems as if he wants to catch me, to have the fame of doing so. Or perhaps he is just upset about my thefts. Time and time again he has challenged me, and time and time again I have sent a warning before I move in to steal his precious treasure. I have been revealed, masked, a few times from an errant ray of light, and there have been a few fights along the rooftops. But for the most part I am capable of stealing the items without being seen. All this time and I don't think he has realized that I cannot be seen in the dark" pre:Name: Ralomenor Siannodel (Ralo to his friends) Race: Wood Elf Age: 70 Size: Medium (5"7') Class: Revised Ranger (3; Gloom Stalker) Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Background: Urchin Role: Thief > Hitter > Hacker Languages: Common, Elvish, Dwarvish, Draconic. Hit Points: 28 Initiative: +8 AC: 18 Speed: 35 ft Passive Perception: 15 Passive Investigation: 11 Passive Insight: 13 Attributes (Modifier/Saving Throw) Strength: 13 (+1/+3) Dexterity: 20 (+5/+7) Constitution: 14 (+2/+2) Intelligence: 13 (+1/+1) Wisdom: 17 (+3/+3) Charisma: 08 (-1/-1) Skills Acrobatics +7 Animal Handling +3 Arcana +1 Athletics +3 Deception -1 History +1 Insight +3 Intimidation -1 Investigation +1 Medicine +3 Nature +1 Perception +5 Performance -1 Persuasion -1 Religion +1 Sleight of Hand +7 Stealth +7 Survival +5 Armor Proficiency: Light armor, medium armor, shields Weapon Proficiency: simple weapons, martial weapons Tools: Disguise Kit, Thieves Tools, Features: Darkvision 90 ft: You can see in dim light within 60 feet of you as if it were bright light, and in darkness as if it were dim light. You can’t discern color in darkness, only shades of gray. Fey Ancestry: You have advantage on saving throws against being charmed, and magic can’t put you to sleep Trance: Elves don’t need to sleep. Instead, they meditate deeply, remaining semiconscious, for 4 hours a day. Mask of the Wild: You can attempt to hide even when you are only lightly obscured by foliage, heavy rain, falling snow, mist, and other natural phenomena. Favored Enemy (Humanoids): Gain a +2 bonus to damage rolls with weapon attacks against humanoids. Have advantage on Wisdom (Survival) checks to track humanoids, as well as on Intelligence checks to recall information about them. Also learn one language of your choice. Natural Explorer: I ignore difficult terrain, have advantage on initiative rolls, on my first turn during combat, I have advantage on attack rolls against creatures that have not yet acted. When traveling for an hour or more: Difficult terrain doesn’t slow my group’s travel, my group can’t become lost except by magical means, even when I am engaged in another activity while traveling (such as foraging, navigating, or tracking), I remain alert to danger, if I am traveling alone, I can move stealthily at a normal pace, when I forage, I find twice as much food as I normally would, while tracking other creatures, I also learn their exact number, their sizes, and how long ago they passed through the area. Fighting Style (Mariner): As long as I am not wearing heavy armor or using a shield, I have a swimming speed and a climbing speed equal to my normal speed, and I gain a +1 bonus to AC. Primeval Awareness: I have an innate ability to communicate with beasts, and they recognize me as a kindred spirit. Through sounds and gestures, I can communicate simple ideas to a beast as an action, and can read its basic mood and intent. I learn its emotional state, whether it is affected by magic of any sort, its short-term needs (such as food or safety), and actions I can take (if any) to persuade it to not attack. I cannot use this ability against a creature that I have attacked within the past 10 minutes. Additionally, I can attune my senses to determine if any of my favored enemies lurk nearby. By spending 1 uninterrupted minute in concentration (as if I were concentrating on a spell), I can sense whether any of my favored enemies are present within 5 miles of me. This feature reveals which of my favored enemies are present, their numbers, and the creatures’ general direction and distance (in miles) from me. If there are multiple groups of my favored enemies within range, I learn this information for each group. Ranger Conclave Gloom Stalker Gloom Stalker Magic: Add Disguise Self to my Ranger spell list. Dread Ambusher:I give myself a bonus to my initiative rolls equal to my Wisdom modifier. At the start of my first turn of each combat, my walking speed increases by 10 feet, which lasts until the end of that turn. If I take the Attack action on that turn, I can make one additional weapon attack as part of that action. If that attack hits, the target takes an extra 1d8 damage of the weapon’s damage type. Umbral Sight: I gain darkvision out to a range of 60 feet, or increase my darkvision range by 30 feet. While in darkness, I am invisible to any creature that relies on darkvision to see me in that darkness. Spells: Cure Wounds, Disguise Self, Hunter's Mark, Jump Spell save DC: 13 Feats: Elven Accuracy: Increase Dex, Int, Wis or Cha by +1. Whenever I have advantage on an attack roll using Dexterity, Intelligence, Wisdom, or Charisma, I can reroll one of the dice once. Equipment: Studded Leather, two shortswords, a dungeoneer’s pack, a longbow and a quiver of 20 arrows, a small knife, a map of the city you grew up in, a pet mouse, a token to remember your parents by, a set of common clothes, thieves tools, disguise kit and a pouch containing 10 gp + 105 gp Defining Traits Personality: I love the thrill of a heist well done. Ideals: People. I help the people who help me — that’s what keeps us alive. (Neutral) Bonds: I owe my survival to another urchin who taught me to live on the streets. Flaw: It’s not stealing if I need it more than someone else. Ryuujin fucked around with this message at 23:55 on Jun 18, 2018 |
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Jun 18, 2018 10:27
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Attribute Roll: 5#1d10+7 11 11 14 14 11 quote:Name: Morthos Domarien Fiend Patron(called Malachlabra by the Domarien family):  Dead twin sister of Morthos:  Most tiefling families have no current ties to Powers on the Infernal plane. Not so the Domarien family. In each generation the oldest child renews a pact with Malachlabra, and the family continues to have influence and power granted to them as they work the will of Malachlabra. Lerissa Domarien was born 5 minutes before Morthos, and was destined to renew the pact as the oldest. Morthos loved that his twin would take up the pact, and the freedom he had to forge his own destiny. Unfortunately, Morthos from a very young age would choose the easiest and shortest path to what he wanted. While Lerissa excelled in her studies and never broke a rule known to her, Morthos exemplified the results of an excess of wealth and a lack of discipline. 3 years ago, all of that changed, when a warlock serving a rival Fiend named Nergal removed Malachlabra's chosen tool Lerissa from the board, before the pact could be completed. The night of the funeral, Morthos performed the ritual of summoning of Malachlabra, and signed his soul over for power. Charm alone would not bring down Nergal's vessel. The last three years Morthos has been devoted to learning what he should have known before he made the pact. He still doesn't have a location or face to put to Lerissa's killer. Why did you become a criminal? What led you down this path? It was a natural fit, I've always been charming, and it didn't take a large amount of thought to realize that the same charm that enabled me to get free treats as a child in the market could be utilized to charm trinkets and gold out of trusting fools. Now that I have this burning desire for revenge, it is blindingly obvious that criminal enterprise is my surest path to that revenge. For what I want to do, I'm going to need a good crew around me. My patron utilizes my criminal skills to remove items that others are willing to bargain their souls away for. Some artifacts are guarded against infernal powers, but have only rudimentary protections from a mortal such as myself. What is your biggest exploit so far? Me? I haven't done a thing. But do you remember the story about six months ago about some human, Alwin Berberry that stole the Constable of Nashkel's dagger. Isn't it wierd that nobody had ever heard of Alwin Berberry before that heist, and nobody has seen him since? I think that's wierd. At the time I didn't know why my patron needed the dagger, but I learned recently that the dagger might have been spotted in the possession of a leader in the Cult of the Dragon. Tell me about one friend you’ve made in your career.  Marra Amblecrown is a cleric of Waukeen. A few months back, I alerted her to a ring of people that were counterfeiting Waterdeep coins. And helped introduce her to them, so that she could help them understand how that was not good for their health. It's always nice to have a church on your side when you are dealing with Infernal powers, and Marra understands that contracts need to be upheld. Tell me about one foe you’ve made in your career.  Belgin Thornberry, the ringleader of above group. He got away before Marra and I arrived. Belgin and I go way back. Not really sure what started the feud, doubt he remembers either. I do remember the one time he blew an identity I had worked for three months developing, I had even taken a legitimate job with the Neverwinter city watch for this identity(by the gods do I hate mornings and morning drill) only to have him out me before I could pull the con. Barely, got away that time. I hear Feril Birchleaf still has a bounty on his head. Great guy Belgin, can't wait to hear how he died. You offering to deal with him for me? Mykkel fucked around with this message at 13:11 on Jun 20, 2018 |
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Jun 18, 2018 15:47
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starting stats: 5#1d10+7 9 17 14 14  Donata Longclaw, a woman out for revenge against what she sees as the corrupt aristocracy. The life of a Half-Orc is not a pleasant one, even one born in Waterdeep. Suspicion and prejudice are at ever corner, the squalid conditions of the slums grinding away even the proudest of people. There was hunger, disease and despair in between those crumbling walls and little else. The only law in the area were a pair of guards, always itching for an excuse to try out whatever they had stolen off their quartermasters, be it a crossbow or a blade, it was to the joy of everyone in the community when their own armour cooked them alive in the mid-summer heat. We had thought a trouble had passed, but it had only begun. The city wanted revenge for the pair of thugs, calling their deaths the work of Ill magic rather than their own stupidity and as such established a series of shams where lies would be barked at us until one of the people living in the city broke down and confessed to magics he was not capable of. They called this ordeal a 'Trial'. Those who's nerves remained were expelled from the cities, carted to a desolate mountain range and abandoned with only the clothes on our back. Exiled and left for dead, hoping that the hostile lands would consume those they could not convict. Many perished, but I was not one of them. Arms once the size of melons had faded, leaving me a gaunt figure, a scarecrow made of flesh, but I endured it all the same. I learned how to survive out in the mountains, but always had the boiling hate to keep me warm when the winters were coldest. I returned, years later, with a plan. The city of Waterdeep had it's treasures well guarded by lock and key, but gates will rust and chains will break. There are soldiers, but all folk are mortal. Law and Chaos were merely a battle of wills, and my will is greater than any fat pig who sleeps on a mattress of gold and goose down. The elites must learn what I learned in my exile, the true face of the world, and it is my duty to bring it to them. Many gods who would declare themselves a force for good say to strike down lies and deceit, and who am I to question the divine? Why did you become a criminal? What led you down this path? It was a natural step. To seek to dismantle the law, one must aquaint themselves with those already outside it, who embrace me as their own. Even if they comment about the habits 10 years of isolation will bring. What is your biggest exploit so far?: One noble was jealous of another's collection of scrolls, something about an argument over who had the true original texts of a writer long ago and who had merely the second attempt. While it pained me to work for a rat in silk and ermine, it did present itself an opportunity. The target's owner had boasted that no-one could steal the scrolls, that they were affixed to the walls with some arcane trickery, so I did not. The fire was satisfying as the parchment turned to ash, leaving only an old pipe as a potential start of the flame. The client was initially vexed but I never understood why, now he had the only set of scrolls which were The Earliest Surviving copies. Tell me about one friend you’ve made in your career: A scarred Elf who preferred to be called Sarron. A man who has lived more than ten of my lifetimes, has seen kingdoms rise and fall, fighting all the while. Remarkably, he claims the side he fought for has never changed, only the world around him has, alternating between Outlaw and Hero he has given me assistance in the past, inviting me to be part of his rebel band. I respectfully declined, but my silence has earned his confidence.  Tell me about one foe you’ve made in your career: Magistrate George Telweather. The man who handed down my sentence in the first place. Truth be told, he never cared to know my name and most likely condemned any memory of my existance to the abyss by the time our prison cart was outside of the city limits. I remembered however, and I upon my return I was quick to make my presence felt to him. A feast for carrion was deposited at his desk, the howls of wolves haunted him on his passage home, my silhouette etched into that fat skull. He fears me. He fears many things, he is very much a coward, but an influential one. Perhaps I overindulged in stoking his paranoia.  quote:Name: Donata Longclaw Manic_Misanthrope fucked around with this message at 07:26 on Jun 25, 2018 |
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Jun 18, 2018 19:19
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Posting interest! Plan to work on a Diviner Wizard going for the Hacker Role. Stats: 5#1d10+7 16 11 15 13 17
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Jun 18, 2018 19:36
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Interest check, stats: 16, 13, 15, 13, EDIT: Having difficulty zeroing in on a concept I like for this one; guess I'll pass. Bad Seafood fucked around with this message at 19:25 on Jun 24, 2018 |
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Jun 18, 2018 19:41
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Just as a heads up - the campaign isn't necessarily built around social stuff. Yes, there will inevitably be social rolls in the planning stages, but if the party that comes together decides that going straight up payday 2 guns blazing bank robbery is the best approach to a heist, then so be it. I will try to make room for both the stealthy and direct approach in every heist; sometimes one might be even more profitable over the other. Anyway, glad to see a lot of interest so far! Looking forward to y'all's results.
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Jun 18, 2018 21:12
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 Layla Tahan Warlock 3 (Hexblade) Hacker > Thief > Mastermind Layla grew up a poor girl in the streets of Athkatla, Amn. Fatherless and penniless,she was raised by her elven mother alone, who put bread on the table by putting herself on the street corners. As a half-elf, she was often discriminated against, and was unable to make her way through her schooling, instead falling in with a local gang, the Scions. The Scions became a second family to Layla, and she grew to depend on them for support and guidance as much as her mother, particularly her best friend and leader, Red, a rough but kind human male. The two were inseperable, and soon Layla became the de facto second in command. Controlling just a small corner of the Low Quarter, they survived by selling drugs, mostly sannish. They were also constantly warring with a rival gang, the Crashers over territory and customers. Things seemed tense, but the status quo between the two groups was mostly maintained, at least until the first of Layla’s two major life altering days came. It started as a small scuffle when Red and Chewy went into Crasher territory looking to hawk sannish to new customers. The two Scions came out on top, leaving four Crashers laying bloodied in the street, but soon afterwards the Crasher’s leader, Raj, an imposing half-orc, finally decided he was over the constant back and forth violence. He quickly ordered his entire gang to move onto the Scion’s turf. Red, Layla, and the other Scions, of course, fought back. The battle was long and bloody, and the guards nowhere to be seen--they had little reason to care about gang fights in the slums, after all. In the end, only a few Scions survived. Layla was badly wounded, taking a blade to the thigh, while Red died slowly after being stabbed in the side with a dagger. Layla was distraught. She cried for days after Red was buried, vowing to get revenge. Her lust for revenge led her to the most important day of her life, one which changed it forever. Having assumed the mantle of leadership, Layla knew the Scions needed to gear up for the retaliatory strike she was planning. She decided the best target was a weapons shop, the Blackened Blade. Shortly after midnight on a particularly clear night, they moved under the bright light of a full moon. Rasha smashed the door down and they all burst through. The shop owner ran downstairs but didn’t even have the chance to reach for a weapon before Trigger punched him square in the face, knocking him out cold. While everyone else was grabbing what they could, Layla became transfixed on a curved sword made of a pitch-black metal hanging in a case above the counter. After staring for a moment, she hopped up onto the counter, smashed the case and took the blade. As soon as she grasped the hilt, she felt a deep chill run through her entire body, starting from her hand holding the blade. She froze for a second, staring at the blade, totally lost in it. Rasha elbowed her to get her attention, nodding to the door. She shook her head to snap out of it. “Aight guys! Let’s get the gently caress outta here before th’ guards show up!” She said, already out the door, carrying nothing but the blade, almost forgetting her mission entirely . She was barely out the door when she heard the cold whisper, “Hello, Layla. So you are my next servant then?” She threw her head back, looking over her shoulder to see who was talking to her. Seeing only her fellow Scions, she replies in shock, “Servant? I ain’t nobody’s servant! What th’ gently caress is goin’ on? Who are you? How do you know my name?” “It is I, the Nightblade. You have liberated me from my prison in that damnable shop, and now you will serve me. Do not be afraid, Layla, I can grant you powers you never could have dreamed of,” the cold voice responds. Two blocks of silence passed before she slammed through the door of her hideout. She immediately ran to the bedroom, throwing the door shut behind her before collapsing into the corner, panting heavily. “What kinda powers? And what am I supposed to do for you?” she asked, clutching the hilt in two hands, running her eyes up and down the razor sharp blade. Suddenly, the blade began to vibrate violently, glowing a dark purple. A bolt of pure energy burst out of the tip of the blade and into the ceiling, blasting clean through and leaving a giant hole. “See? That was but a taste. You shall command my full might in any way you see fit. In exchange, I only ask that you follow a few simple requests, when I may make them.” Layla sat there, silent, shaking. “We both know you want to avenge your friends, Layla. I can help you. Together, we will destroy the Crashers, and your Scions will reign. You just have to let me help you,” the blade continued. Still shaking, she nodded in response, “Ok. We got a deal.” She stood up and swung her new blade to test it out, letting out a loud humming sound as it sliced through the air. She walked downstairs and kicked the wall, jolting the remnants of her gang awake. “We move tomorrow,” is all she said. The next day came quickly and she gathered the 4 remaining Scions, leading them to the Crushers’ territory. “Raj! Bring your bitch rear end gang out here. We got somethin t’ settle!” she yelled, standing in the middle of the road with Nightblade drawn. Seconds later, Raj appeared out of a rundown house, with all 20 members of the Crushers pouring from other houses along the street. “So you’ve come to join your boyfriend, then?” he asked. “Not quite,” was her reply. She calmly stepped towards the group of Crushers and swung her blade. A bolt of pure magical energy flung from the tip of Nightblade, crashing into Raj’s lieutenant, felling him instantly. “The gently caress was that!” Raj screamed as another bolt of energy crashed into the archer he had set up on a rooftop. “gently caress this, CHARGE!” he screamed, leading the rest of the Crushers into battle. One by one, Layla cut them down with Nightblade, her fellow Scions watching her back. Finally, only Raj was left. She motioned for her men to stand down before pointing Nightblade directly at him. “Your rear end is dead,” she calmly said as she slowly walked towards him to close the distance. As soon as she reached him, he lifted his greataxe up above his head. As he swung it down however, Layla slammed her fist to the ground, emitting a massive shockwave that sent his axe flying and him to the ground, stunned. She straddled him and placed her blade at his throat. “This is for Red,” she said as she slit his throat. It was then that she heard the screams of the innocent civilians. “WITCH! SORCERY! GET THE GUARDS!” she heard. “You need to get out of here!” Rasha yelled at her, running to her side. “The guards… Magic like that is illegal here! They’ll chase you down… capture you and kill you! You need to leave Athkatla before they catch you… maybe if you lie low for a while you’ll be able to come back, but until then, I’ll build the Scions back… better than they ever were, thanks to you!” She began to stand up off of Raj when she heard the familiar, cold voice seep into her head, “His watch. We need his watch. Take it.” Fearing the consequences, she obeyed, sliding her hand into Raj’s pocket to retrieve the watch before sliding it into her belt pouch and running as fast as she could out of the city. Her next stop was Crimmor, the city of caravans. She quickly found her new powers were extraordinarily useful for stealing items--both to make a living and to fulfil Nightblade’s odd requests. She fell in with the Shadow Thieves and worked many “special procurement” jobs for them, using her spells to facilitate every stage of the theft, from detecting and disarming magical security to sneaking in with invisibility, allowing herself to make a decent living in the shadows, making sure she was never seen, especially not casting a spell like she was in Athkatla. Careful observers, however, would potentially notice a small oddity with her jobs… with every job she does, Nightblade would request for her to take a small, specific extra item. A glass cup from the Hassens’ house while stealing their prized Painting, the Winding River; a napkin from the kitchen of the Asghars’ while stealing the key to their safety deposit box; a plain wooden ring owned by the Maloofs’ while taking a map of their mines. She has no idea why her blade requests her to take these items, but she does as it asks, as the requests seem benign enough. And here we are, the present day, where she received the summons to Waterdeep. She reads the note and quickly packs for the trip to the city, figuring she can make more there in a week than she can in a month of stealing from caravaneers. Despite constantly sending her mother money to support her, she knows all she's sending is enough for subsistence, and realizes the significant increase in gold from Waterdhavian jobs would most likely allow her mother to move out of the Low Quarter or maybe to a different city altogether. Why did you become a criminal? What led you down this path? “I had no money, no hope growin up. Just seemed natural to fall in wit da Scions. Th’ work we sold helped feed me and my momma. It killed me to see her on th’ corner, so anythin I could do to keep her off of it, I’d do. That jus happened t’ involve sellin ‘work. What is your biggest exploit so far? “Well, let me tell you about th’ time I lifted th’ mayor of Crimmor’s personal jewelry collection. Firs’, I had to scope out th’ official mansion, see where th’ guards patrolled, detectin’ their magical wards, stuff like that. Jus’ after 1 am I slid up next to the building and found th’ one window they forgot ta ward. I turned myself invisible and slid in through th’ window, creepin along the hallways nice and quiet. I went to th’ bedroom and found a slip wit’ the code ta the vault on it! Finally, I got ta the vault… I used th’ code I found and slipped in, took the jewels, and slipped right back out… so smooth they didn’t know for a whole week!” Tell me about one friend you’ve made in your career. “One friend that I’ve made… I mean besides Rasha, since I grew up wit him… I’d say I’d count Akeem Seif as one of my best friends. He’s my fence at wit’ the Shadow Thieves in Crimmor. What good is a thief without a fence? An’ besides that, Akeem’s good people. He’d do anythin ta take care of me.” Tell me about one foe you’ve made in your career. “So, let me tell ya about Hazim Toma. He’s a fuckin snake. Tried ta do me dirty when we was robbin a route map--and only a route map--from a caravan master’s house. I got th’ map an’ went to go grab somethin small that I needed and he fuckin grabs a fistful of gems from their safe. Smashes th’ nearest fuckin window and jumps out with all these gems that’s supposed ta be untouched. I fuckin ran as fast as I could, made it out with the map… after I turned it in I went ta find the gently caress, but he had skipped town before I could get ta him.” Small build note: On reaching level 4, I plan on taking the Investigator feat if I am chosen as a hacker. This will give me +1 int, and double my proficiency bonus for investigation checks, which will give a total modifier of +6 quote:Biographical Info Look Around You fucked around with this message at 21:22 on Jun 20, 2018 |
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Jun 19, 2018 05:44
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Wahad posted:
Here's a dumb question: can we play the stock, PHB Ranger, or is the revision mandatory? 
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Jun 19, 2018 07:50
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I mean...I guess? I don't know why you would, since isn't the revised supposed to shore up some of the issues with regular ranger? But if you really want to, go hog wild.
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Jun 19, 2018 08:06
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 Amelia Winterbreeze (High Elf, Rogue1/Monk2, Folk Hero) Personality/Ideal/Bond/Flaw (link)
quote:quote:quote: Ghepard (Razorclaw Shifter, Ranger) An excellent marksman and all around bad guy, Ghepard is a professional scoundrel and mercenary -- both a capable thief and a competent detective. He was in the employ of the nobility, and helped to smuggle Amelia out. He set her up with a new life, and taught her the first few dirty tricks she would need to survive in the seedy underbelly of society. quote: Autumn Somerset (Wood Elf, Scout) In a lot of ways, Autumn and Amelia are two sides of the same coin; aside from just the high elf/wood elf rivalry, the two are opposites in a lot of ways. Amelia grew up rich, Autumn grew up poor. Amelia is from the big city and high society, Autumn grew up on a farm and amongst the wilderness. Autumn feels that she came up through the ranks of crime and villainy, whereas Amelia just sort of fell into it -- a major source of resentment. But the real reason they became such bitter foes is that Autumn was positioned very close to the leader of the coup, but secretly his heart belonged to Amelia. ---------- Character generation:
P.d0t posted:here's my roll: 8 16 11 15 15 STR 15 DEX 20 (save prof) CON 15 INT 12 (save prof) WIS 16 CHA 08 AC: 18 (Monk Unarmored) HP: 24 - Players start with a bonus feat. -- Mobile - Players start with an additional feature called a Role, which reflects your criminal expertise. See below for more information on Roles. --> Thief > Hacker > Mastermind > Hitter - Players start with their starting equipment, plus 200gp to spend as you please. (will work on spending gp after recruitment, likely picking up a longbow) Rogue
Folk Hero
Skill Profs [STR] Athletics (rogue, Expertise) [DEX] Stealth (rogue) [INT] Investigation (rogue, Expertise) [WIS] Insight (rogue) [WIS] Perception (elf) [WIS] Animal Handling (background) [WIS] Survival (background) Tools/Languages (High Elf) Elvish, Common, Orc (Background) artisan's tools (Jeweler's), land vehicles (Rogue) Thieves' Cant, Thieves' Tools Weapon Profs (High Elf) longswords, shortswords, shortbows, longbows (Rogue) simple weapons, hand crossbows, longswords, rapiers, shortswords (MC Monk) simple weapons, shortswords Racials Speed: 30ft (+10ft feat bonus, +10ft class bonus) Darkvision: 60ft Fey Ancestry: Advantage on saves vs. Charmed, immune to magical sleep Trance: don't need sleep, semiconscious for 4 hours to get Long Rest Cantrip: Message P.d0t fucked around with this message at 02:28 on Jun 21, 2018 |
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Jun 19, 2018 19:34
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Hey Wahad, how strict are you on using the Bladesinger as a non-Elf? Bouncing a few ideas around. I can work around it if you want to stick to RAW but figured I'd ask.
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Jun 19, 2018 21:41
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I don't mind per se if you're not one but you'll have to justify how your character got knowhow about a secret elven tradition while not being one.
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Jun 19, 2018 21:58
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