> You pull open heavy red wood doors, the handle worn over time by thousands of hands. Inside you find a rough looking human with an eyepatch, feet kicked up onto a desk and picking his nails with a dagger. >He glances up at you, but returns his attention back to his fingernails. >Without looking up from the dagger he slides a clipboard towards you and begrudgingly recites;
“Welcome to the great Guild Hall of Veeky Forums. Please fill out the form and we’ll see if we can find you some work We’re supposedly not to discriminate based on race, age, gender, all that crap per the new young king’s decree”.
It reads: >Name: >Race: >Age: >Class: >Physical description: >Profession/Background: >Backstory:
>As you fill it out he adds: “That background and appearance stuff is just so we know it’s you when you come back and so we can build a psyche profile for you”.
(R8, H8, Appreci8, get help making characters, ask for help, etc)
>A medium sized figure in full plate, but no apparent weapons thuds up to the desk. His armor is rusty and covered in Orcish graffiti. He removes his helmet with massive Cestus gauntlets and places it heavily onto the desk revealing the ugly mug of a Half-Orc who could pass more as Orc than man. >He listens to the human and slides the clipboard back to him. “I can’t read”, he says in a heavy Orcish accent. “Fill it out for me”. >Name Krubb >Race Half-Orc >Age 26 >Class Fighter/Barbarian >Physical description Missing part of his right ear. Visible facial scars. Dirty, mild bad odor, dirty rusted armor with Orcish graffiti. Uses cestus as weapons. Strong streak of orc blood. >Profession Outlander >Background Raised in a trading post on neutral ground between barbarian human tribes and Orcish tribes by an Orcish mother. Krubb was always bullied by full Orc children in the village as acting “too human”. The life of a trader didn’t suit him, so he set out as an adventurer for fame, fortune, and to prove he’s more Orc AND more human than anyone.
Oliver Kelly
>Name: Tasya V'Rann
>Race: Tiefling
>Age: 25
>Class: Monk (Only in that her fighting style is very unorthodox. Wields half a dozen handaxes, but is prone to biting, tearing, kicking, kneeing, headbutting, etc. etc. Feral when it comes to close combat)
>Physical description: She's 6'2, pale grey skin, white hair and silver eyes. Goat / satyr style legs, blackish/reddish ram style horns. Long braid down middle, buzzed sides (Lagertha / pop-viking shieldmaiden hair). Otherwise looks like pic related.
>Profession/Background: Hired Muscle
>Backstory: Hails from a tribe of mixed races far too the North. Was hired as a guide through the mountains, and liked the company and change of pace from her home, so she's taking some time to explore the world, just kinda moving from here to there via odd jobs. Particularly good at hurting people.
Nolan Hall
>Name: Nimladrie
>Race: Cat-taur (probably actually a Lamia doesn't want to admit that)
>Age: 17
>Class: Cleric
>Physical description: Surprisingly short, only 5'3". Light skinned and thin build on top, bottom half looks like a snow leopard. Hair is grey and short with spots similar to her lower half. On the palm of her right hand is a large red scar. Wears a simple brown robe tailored to fit her odd body. (pic related is the reference I drew when I made her)
>Profession/Background: Healer and Leader of the Crimson Wayfarers
>Backstory: Grew up in an orphanage that was sponsored by the Temple of Cayden Cailean. Was never adopted due to her heritage but one of the clerics that worked there took her under their wing and taught her everything she knows. When she was old enough to leave the orphanage, she set out into the world to help those in need and spread the good word of Cayden. Early in her travels she let herself get a little carried away with the drink and blacked out. When she awoke, she found herself surrounded with the remnants of a ritual. Turns out she'd sworn a blood oath to somebody but she can't remember who or what the oath was. Is now following clues to help her figure it out so she can fulfill the oath.
Connor Anderson
>Name: Bill Bombadil
>Race: Human
>Age: 74
>Class: Fighter/Ranger
>Profession/Background: Long time caravan guide and low-risk bodyguard/hired help
>Backstory: Long ago he was best friends with a certain dwarf. The two went their separate ways on different quests, promising to meet back in town when they returned. Bombadil waited for more than 50 years, slowly building up some experience. Realizing that age is quickly catching up to him, he decided to adventure out of his town to find his friend before he kicks the bucket
Noah Roberts
9/10 I like the fighting style. I only dinged you 1 because I don’t like Tieflings.
7/10 because I don’t even know what a Cat-taur is, but everything else is totally solid.
10/10 believable and I like older PCs.
Isaac Torres
Asked the DM if he would be fine with me making a centaur character for his game. He said yes but I had to make it medium sized instead of large. Initial thought was "Pony-taur" but then got it into my head to use a large cat instead. DM approved then later found out about the monster race of Lamias so he's been working that into part of my backstory.
>A man in studded leather makes his way to the desk, leaning over it as the elf recites his spiel. The lute lazily hanging across his back twangs dully in the open hall as he rummaged through his satchel for a quil. Clumisly digging and dropping a few things, including a pewter flask and a whip, he pulls the brass knuckles from his hands produces said quil. Plopping it onto the table with a clink of the inkwell following shortly after he begins to fill it out
>Name: Sirius Balrog
>Race: Aaismer
>Age 27
>Physical description 5'6", olive complexion, black/dark brown hair, thick but well trimmed beard, deep gouge along left cheek, tattoo of a rats tail around wrist, pale green eyes. >Running a thumb along his scared cheek with a sour look he continues on
>Profession: >below the words "mercenary", "paladin", and "musician" are struck through before his decision is made Follower of Kelemvor, "Rat catcher"
>Background: Son of a draconian paladin and human ranger, grew up in father's monistariy doing odd jobs and contracts for money between jobs for the church-exorcisim, monster slaying, etc.-and playing music for local taverns. Fell in love with a beast folk, joined an adventurers guild.
Michael Parker
>Name Cricket >Race Human >Age 47 >Class Rogue >Physical description 5'3" with a build bordering on frail. Hair is a gray and mangey. Dressed in rags. looks like shit, smells worse. teeth stained black from fierce addiction to black lotus. Four tattoos: right forearm- cricket, left pectoral- black cat, left side abdomen- skeletal arm holding a key ring (5 keys), back- burning tower (3 windows) >Profession Vagabond, freelance neredowell >backstory bastard son of a half elf barmaid to an unknown father. Inherited no traces of her fine elven appearance but found many uses for his surprisingly lithe footwork. A (mostly) retired member of the River Rats- a small gang who deal mostly in burglary and pickpocketing. Works as a "gutterman", burglar who enters through catacombs and sewers as opposed to above ground. Excellent knowledge of local subterranean infrastructure, uneducated in most other matters. Compulsive curmudgeon, fluent in common, elvish, and profanity.
Jordan Anderson
Oh man, I didn't expect Sunny to last this long.
Leo Turner
>Name: Faye Ranks "Is there... something wrong with my name?" >Race: Human "Human though I may be, weak I am not." >Age: ??? She remains silent on this front. >Class: Fighter (Champion, 5e) "Fighter defines so many things, but for me, it means someone who is dedicated to understanding and honing their strength." >Physical description: Bit like pic related, little flat, fairly well-built, armor's painted to make it seem like she's not that poor. Blonde hair, blue eyes, maybe short, too? "M-must you look so far down? I know myself to not be THAT short." >Profession/Background: "Knight errant" "... Er, if you could, might you direct me to where the Rough And Tumble Annual Tournament takes place? I... may have taken a few detours. No, no, I merely wished to help others I found in need of it on the way there, and..." >Backstory: Faye was but a little lass THIS high, when she became enamored with tales of brave and resolute heroes, delving into deep, dark, dungeons for riches, dragons, and other unimaginable loot. And so, with a great deal of assistance, the town guard captain, also known as her father, taught her the way of the spear, and its companions, the shield and wits. Arduous it may have been at first, she understood the rush inherent within close-quarters combat, of clashing metal against metal, to become as a mobile fortress, a battering ram, even. It was with this in mind that Faye left her home, one day, to travel to the city, where the Rough And Tumble Annual Tournament was to take place.
Jaxon Phillips
>Name Thibault Leblanc >Race Human >Age 24 >Class Fighter/Ranger >Physical description He's 5 ft 2 with a fairly well-built musculature save for his somewhat disproportionately long and muscular left arm. He's also blonde, and has rather unkempt hair that's almost always covered by a blindingly-polished kettle helm. His skin, quite a bit of which is marred by smallpox scars, is quite suntanned. He's mostly seen wearing a white, jackchain-reinforced gambeson emblazoned with the red cross of St. George. The guy mostly smells of ale and unwashed clothes; the latter is mostly due to how hard it is to wash his gambeson without permanently ruining the dyes. Not even the camp followers touch it. >Profession/Background Thibault is a farmer whose home is in Normandy. He owns a bill, a dagger, a buckler, a kettle helm, a gambeson with jackchains, and a long bow he mainly used for hunting. He answered The King of England's call to arms when The Eternal Baguette came knocking. He just wants to loot something valuable from a French knight and then pocket the aristocratic bastard's ransom money. With that much in funding he could force the rest of his village into serfdom, including all the assholes that used to fuck with him during childhood. This time they literally have no right to complain!
Easton Rodriguez
>Name Sofya Falkonichna Oronova
>Race Dhampir
>Age 21
>Class Cleric (Light domain)
>Physical description 5' 7'', black hair, blue eyes and pale skin. Dresses in the plain clothes of an Ezran priest when not expecting a fight; in scale mail and with a shield when expecting one.
>Profession/Background Itinerant priestess of Ezra, The Lady of the Mists.
Haunted One background (see backstory below)
>Backstory The Oronov family were servants of the vampire lord Nikolaj Ivanov for centuries, and Sofya’s mother, Alada Sergichna, was preyed upon by the family’s vampire lord while Sofya was still in the womb, resulting in Sofya’s birth as a dhampir. Sofya grew up in fear of the depredations of Lord Ivanov, watching him kill or turn much of her family, including both her mother and father, but she herself was spared numerous times. Eventually Lord Ivanov was driven into retreat by servants of the Church of Ezra, and the few surviving Oronovs, including Sofya and her younger sister Nadezhda, liberated. Sofya became a devout Ezran follower thereafter, but never forgot her suffering at the hands of Ivanov. She trained to defend herself and embraced the light provided by Ezra to combat the darkness of her dhampir nature. Sofya now seeks to spread the word of Ezra throughout the Land of Mists.
I am intentionally trying to go MAXIMUM EDGE with Sofya here, and she's going to be my character for Curse of Strahd. Also I want to work with the DM to have Strahd continuously tempt her faith in Ezra and to try and get her give in to her vampire nature...and I want her to eventually fail and give in.
Joshua Cox
>Name: Zuimane "Lefty" Lifthrasir >Race: Human >Age: 35 >Class: Paladin >Physical description: Just over 6 feet, despite an ectomophic body type, Zui would have a fingertip to fingertip span of over 76 inches, if his left arm wasn't severed at the wrist. He is well muscled, even on his stump arm, has a heavy brow, sandy brown hair, light skin, and deep blue eyes. He wears the burdens of the last two decades of campaigning on his face, and his mien has been called "stony". His rare smiles are infectious, and his gaze carries a purity of purpose that can make it hard to hold. He has the callouses of a man who spends a lot of time with his head in a helmet, and a deep, but cleanly healed scar on his right cheek. >Profession/Background: A soldier before he took up the mantle of Paladin, he is sworn to an order of knights obscure and secretive. Does the order recruit knights who have lost a hand in battle, or are you required to give up a hand in an initiation rite? Outsiders don't know. His task, set by the order, is to expose and cauterize evil where conspiracy or personal power allow the depraved to dabble in diabolry or create human suffering on such a scale as to affect the spiritual topography of the land. He is also called to support justice, to temper his judgement with mercy whenever possible, and to remember the limitations of his power. When he's not on a quest, he works as an exorcist, a judge, and a hunter of tainted monsters, depending on what's available. >Backstory: The fourth son of a minor nobleman, he was close to completing his education as a clerk to join the king's service when the king died and a succession war started. He ended up in the logistical corps of one of the weaker claimants, and ended up in the rear guard when that army was destroyed. He was left for dead on the battlefield and recovered in an abbey, joining the secret order when he was healed.
Ayden Foster
By the way, the reason why I want Sofya to fall is because I know what one of my fellow players is going to roll up - a vampire hunter modeled on Trevor Belmont from the Netflix Castlevania series. Only evil, basically as an excuse to be a complete asshole to NPCs. He's rolling up a Vengeance paladin.
Then another player is rolling up a druid.
I looked at the cleric (good CHA save), the druid (good CHA save), and the paladin (good CHA save), and realized that Strahd is never going to be able to hit any of us with his Charm ability, which takes away a lot of Strahd's charm as a vampire. So I'm working with the DM on that front to have Sofya instead WILLINGLY give in and fall over time, no Charm required, or at least no supernatural charm required.
Not that I'm planning on having Sofya fall for Strahd or anything; nor do I want the DM to have Strahd become attracted to Sofya - she's not supposed to replace Irena. Rather my hope is that Strahd will just see her as a monster trying to deny what she is and take a sort of personal offense to that, and turn corrupting her into his hobby while he goes about his other plans.
But, we'll see.
Brody Hernandez
>A small, cloaked figure in leather armor approaches the desk quietly. After hearing the human speak, she whistles in response, and hurriedly begins scribbling on the clipboard in messy handwriting. >Name Whistle >Race Kenku >Class Bard >Physical description Beady eyes, unkept feathers, several scratches along her beak, as well as a circular scar on the back of her right hand. Cloak has a lot of bread crumbs stuck to it. >Profession Busks where ever she goes, but is willing to pickpocket if need be. >Background Whistle grew up in the slums, and was the oldest child of a poor family. She learned and honed her skills by watching, imitating others, and "borrowing" any materials she needed. As she grew up, she thirsted for adventure and a life of riches and fame. She packed up a bag of supplies, her trusty drum, and set out to find adventure.
Jacob King
A muscular half-orc wearing trousers, a thick blacksmith’s apron, and a toque grabs the clipboard and begins filling it out in flourishing handwriting, yet with slightly stilted grammar. Halfway through he reaches into his apron and withdraws a glazed scone, taking bites between sentences. When he finishes with both pastry and survey, he firmly hands the board back to the man and brushes crumbs off his apron. >”Orque resquest you please direct him to the kitchen.” >Name: Henk “Orque” Splintershield >Race: Half-Orc >Age: 32 >Class: Barbarian >Physical description: Very tall very built. Covered in oil burns, knife cuts, and animal-received scars. Neatly greased back hair usually hidden under his chef’s toque. Keeps an articulately trimmed beard. Goes shirtless but wears the aforementioned blacksmith’s apron for some protection while he cooks. >Profession/Background: Gourmet chef in a restaurant in the big city, think someplace about 75% of the way towards earning its first Michelin Star. >Backstory Henk was born to a tribal orcish mother and a disappeared human father, but experienced a normal orcish childhood. One day while assisting the tribe’s wisewoman he found a book detailing a mostly-forgotten orcish god, Garrakg, god of cooking and feasting. He began to practice the teachings on the food hunted and gathered by the tribe. Originally uncaring, they eventually became disgusted by his pride in such a frivolous activity, as well as the pride he took in his pointless non-combat oil and knife scars. They kicked him out of the tribe and he sought refuge in a large city. Most citizens condescendingly called him “Orc” so he adopted the name since that’s what he apparently looked like. He got a job tending bar in a small tavern and managed to work his way into the chef’s guild over 15 years. Now the head chef for a respected guild restaurant, Orque has taken a vacation to go on a pilgrimage for Garrakg to taste the delicacies of the world.
Angel Miller
>Name: Horace Chambers >Race: Human >Age: 23 >Class: Lore Bard/GOO Warlock >Physical description: Saturday: Dwarven merchant, surly and wide in yellow tunic Sunday: Elf of unclear gender in yellow cape Weekdays: Unnaturally handsome troubadour clothed all in yellow Beneath the veil: A Gaunt and bitter human with twisted features, clothed only in a tattered Yellow cloak. >Profession/Background: Failed Actor >Backstory: A starving artist from a backwater village, stole a manuscript from a strange visitor, performed it before the local crowd with horrific consequences. He is given new talents but does as another wills.
Parker Edwards
>Name: Vanna >Race: gnoll >Age: 21 >Class: ranger >Physical description: 8' tall even with a slightly hunched over posture common for her species. powerfully built even for a gnoll and quite rotund with a large pot belly that strains her fur covered breastplate despite being made for her. she wears a leather brown skirt that hangs to her knees and a simple undyed cotton shirt with no sleeves. on her back she bears a massive cleaver, longer even than she is tall with tassels of what seem suspiciously like locks of different color hair tied to the pommel. beside it a great war bow made from darkwood and overlarge ibex horn rests in a sheath beside a finely made quiver. her belt festooned with pouches and shackles of various sizes. at her side a dire honey badger covered in scars snuffles about, looking for food when not otherwise occupied. a stout chain hangs from its stouter harness. apparently the beasts name is sweety. >Profession/Background: monster hunter >Backstory: born to a gnoll tribe decimated by adventurers when it grew to bold sha was one of a handful of survivors. left behind and alone she preyed on animals, for her fear of man was strong. but soon a drought came to the land and prey became scares. the young gnoll was starving and desperate when she happened upon a lone human. mustering her courage she attacked but could not even overcome this small man for hunger had sapped her strength. he subdued her but to her great surprise did not kill her but spoke to her though she did not understand. when he finished he freed and fed her, allowing her to leave. she followed him in the days that passed and eventually overcame her fear, getting food each time she stayed to hear his tales. she grew strong again and learned his words as best she could. the man let her follow and eventually adopted her, teaching her to speak and act as men do. this man became more family to her than any gnoll she had ever known.
Jonathan Brooks
>Name: Ephraim Scorvander >Race: Human >Age: 34 >Class: Alchemist >Physical: Acid splash scars on his hands which he keeps wrapped and heavy a waxed cloak cover most of him and he has a tired, harried look. >Profession: "Inventor" >Backstory: Ephraim regularly prayed to an appalling eldritch being regularly, and through significant research fashioned a ritual tool to better "support" this being. It happens that this tool, the Scorvander Knife, is also basically THE multitool and can be used around the house, garden, mausoleum, or workshop. As such he gained notoriety and was invited to a prestigious guild of inventors. Now he wonders the world, looking for artifacts to claim as his invention so that he can work on praising his diety in peace.
William Hughes
I bet he has a weakness for giant birds
Josiah Allen
>A solid built young lady in fancy clothing stepped in. Looked around and thought that this place is in
>Name: Olinda Wicks
>Race: Human
>Age: 19 or 20 you can pick later.
>Class: The Textiles Arts pleases and thanks yous
>Physical description: Been working out for the past 2 years and I'm pretty fit. Been Training for long trips for at least 3 years now. Everything is still a part of me and I'm not planning on losing anything any time soon
>Profession/Background: The Seamstress, The Cobbler, The Tanner, The Weaver, etc etc etc
>Backstory: The first thing I remember my parents telling me was how amazing I was for knitting them a blouse at the age of 4 or 5. After that they had me learn more about all things textiles and by the age of 16 I master them all. Problem is I feel whatever I make is not good enough or well the materials I use are not good enough. Like I can make the weaving tool to make the cloth so I can make some cloth armor and have that cloth be some of the best cloth armor you could possibly ware. But I know I make it better. I know better fabrics and fibers are out there. Better monster leathers and dyes just waiting to be turn into something great. Which is why I want to go out and adventure. Just picture me finding something that could replace metal armor. (Hell I can almost do that right now....)
Michael Davis
>Name: Azarimar Moabul >Race: Dark Elf >Age: 25 >Class: Duelist >Physical description: A tall, thin, sicky looking, pale gray elf with a white marking reaching from his left brow to his jaw. He has studs in both ears, a notch in his left, three rings in his right, a ring in his right brow, long silky hair short facial hair >Profession/Background: Noble / Junkie >Backstory: He was a disgraced junkie son of an ancient and powerful house until the volcano his home sat on erupted, destroying everything he’s know. Witnessing this cause him to sort of snap into adulthood and he became the man he should have been, risking it all to save as many as he could. Despite his efforts he was seen as the “wrong survivor” by the other house members of unaffected cities, and was dismissed for being the junkie he’s always been. Since then he’s decided to sail around the world, feel the ocean wind, and see as much of the world as he can.
William Rodriguez
>junkie Trash
Jeremiah Lopez
>An energetic young man in light clothes and a triangular red hat with a strikingly white feather eventually makes his way to the counter after a solid three hours of being distracted by everything of moderate or higher interest in the room. >after an additional then minutes of being distracted by the clip part of the clipboard, he begins filling it out. >Name Henry Yoshida >Race Human(Nephilim Daimah[has the soul of an ADHD catfolk, instead of a normal human one]) >Age 15 >Class Tao(Monk) >Physical Description Light olive - [15 lines of distraction by wondering why olives are used as a skin color omitted] - skin, sandy brown - [sand colors distraction omitted] - hair, brown eyes, about 5'2", 140 lbs, slightly more handsome than average, wiry - [distracted by a bird outside] - build, incredibly cheerful. >Profession/Background Martial Arts student at my mother's dojo. Sometimes help my dad fish. >Backstory Mom and dad say I could never sit still, even as a baby. I'm more curious as to how anyone can STAY still, with all this neat stuff to see and do, I mean look at the STUFF in this place like that - [three page meander omitted] - and I guess that's why I like fishing, too. You never know what you'll hook. I mean, I found my hat in a fishing net, and it was bone dry! Isn't that awesome? The feather wasn't even wrinkled. So I figure I'll hold onto it until I figure out where it came from. I think somebody mentioned a "shiv-all-rick - why rick, what'd he do - order" that wore these hats and used rapiers and such, so I figured if I wear the hat, I should use those swords, maybe they'll think I'm one of theres. Oh, and believe it or not, I can focus on things, like the Tai Chi mom taught me. Also, I saw this one ronin once who could create fire with his Ki, I think that'd be really handy for cooking fish, so maybe I'll try to learn that. Oh, and I can -[Rest omitted, 5 pages, 75% meander] >He finishes up and pesters eyepatch dude until thrown out.
Cameron Perez
>Name: Morglo >Race: Half-orc >Age: 31 >Class: Fighter >Physical description: Big and gruff looking, with a deep scar on his left shoulder. Long black hair that is kept slicked back. >Profession/Background: Muscle for local crime lords >Backstory: Grew up as a street urchin on the edge of town barely getting enough to survive. Would always watch the local Mercenary group, the Lightning Talons, head out to fight the creatures in the near by woods. He fell in love instantly with their fighting style of pole arms and shields (Phalanx fighting). Morglo rarely tried to hurt anyone, even trying to survive he wouldn't hurt someone. His speciality was intimidating others, but if it didn't work, he wouldn't attack unless defending himself. Even working for crime lords, he would intimidate people into paying their money rather than hurting them like he was supposed to. He is a gentle soul in a barbarians body. He just wants to finally get the chance to do good and not be a big scary guy.
Jaxson White
I love you if you're really playing this. Though I think he should unmask.
Ian Watson
>An average figure in old, if well maintained plate walks in, less like that of a knight, and more of heavy cavalry. A soldier's armor. >He moves easily in the metal, despite his bowlegged stride, with a longsword at his hip is a large sword. >In a leather gloved is a lance, one that could be as easily used on a on horseback. >removing the steel helm, reveals a handsome, if scarred man, dark hair, with a scraggly beard and a streak of white through his tied back hair. "Right, sir. Provided my horse is fed and watered, hehe." >He says with an awkward smile and laugh, before adopting a nervous look, and quickly scratching out his information onto the clipboard, before pressing it back.
>Name Viggo. No last name, just Viggo >Race Human, last I checked, haha. Not funny? Okay... >Age TwentyThree Winters, sir. >Class Some people call me a cavalier. Others a knight. I'm just a guy with a horse, and a big stick. And a lance, ha. Still not funny? Okay... >Physical description Medium build. Black hair with a white streak. Scar from brow to chin, and a smaller scar over bridge and under eye. Green eyes. Bronzed skin. "Eastern European" prison tattoos over most of body. What's an Eastern European? I don't know, the word just came to me. >Profession Well I've always been a mercenary, and I'm not much good at anything else... Though I have been told I'm a lovely singer, and I have luck on my side, when I gamble. >Background Where to start... I was born into a mercenary clan, I was raised by the cavalry commander. We got smashed by the empire, and after some misadventures ended up married. Now she's dead, and I'm trying to make my way in the world. I hear adventurers make a pretty coin, may as well join up with a guild of them. Not enough detail? Well sorry, I'm new to your land, and I don't want to contradict established ideas and views.
