Uncommon Knowledge Draaken Empire
-Homeland of a mid-sized population of rock gnomes.
-The primary source of magic that is used in Draaken arms and armor.
-The reason why people aren't allowed further into the city is to hide the above fact.


Common Knowledge Silver Forest
-Home to a large population of solitary forest gnomes

Uncommon Knowledge Silver Forest
-Forest Gnomes observe a two week long mating ritual in the heart of the Silver Forest each year in mid-summer. This is the only time these gnomes are seen in groups larger than three.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:51, Thu 23 Feb 2017.

Roscoe stood up and wiped the dust from his clothes, just as his companions were being pushed out of the tavern door behind him. "That was completely unnecessary," he said as he turned to look at them.

Verity caught her footing before she went down in the dirt as well, and gave the halfling a little shove, "Shut it, Roscoe! We told you a few spare coins weren't worth the risk. You can't go around doing business of your own, inside someone else's place of business, without their approval."

Roscoe looked up at the she-elf ranger, "If their food didn't taste like last week's scraps, I wouldn't have needed to offer my services! They could have just asked me to stop, and I'd have been happy to leave them to it." He could tell from the hidden smile on her face that she wasn't as angry as she wanted to appear to be.

The dwarven party leader, Khorban Galehammer spoke up then, "They did! TWICE!" His face was nearly as red as his beard, but Roscoe couldn't fathom why.

A bit hurt, Roscoe replied, "Yes, well... They should have asked more nicely, then." Roscoe sighed, and gave up on brushing the dust off manually. He held up his and snapped his fingers three times as he lowered it back down to waist level. At the first snap, his shirt appeared instantly clean as new. His pants followed with the second snap, and his boots with the third.

Khorban's mustaches were flaring out and his angry breathing was quite audible. He looked to be about to say something as Jory arrived, calling out, "Khorban! I found it!"

Jory jogged the rest of the way up to the group and paused as he noticed the color in Khorban's cheeks. The dwarf waved his concern off pointing at Roscoe, and then indicated for Jory to continue.

Jory readjusted his amulet, a symbol of a clean scroll, pulling it back from over his shoulder to rest in its place in the center of his chest. It was the sign of some god, or something, but Roscoe paid little attention to such things as he wanted nothing to do with gods. Especially human gods. "I found it mentioned in another book here as well. The Scroll of Vilfarz rests in a cavern not far from here. The entrance is disguised just as it was described in the other book; green vines with brown and orange blossoms. But, this book also mentioned that the blooms are poisonous, but only to the touch. Fire, it said, is the key to getting past them."

Jory looked as if he was about to say something else, but Roscoe jumped in, "Fire!? I can handle fire!"

Verity reached down and intercepted the halfling's hands as they shot up to demonstrate, "We know, Ross! Calm down, we'll get to that when we find it."

..

Everyone in the group took off at a run, and soon came upon the form of Verity kneeling on one knee, blood running down her side as she fended off three bandits wielding shortswords. Jory shouted at Verity as he ran toward her, and she pushed herself back up to her feet with renewed vigor. He struck out at one of the bandits as he closed in with them, but the man blocked it with ease.

As Khorban rushed in, three more bandits rushed out at him. The first met only his shield, but the second stabbed up into his arm and the third sank his sword hilt-deep into the dwarf's gut, piercing straight through his armor. Khorban fell to the ground, unconscious and bleeding out.

Roscoe stopped his run, sliding forward on the rocky dirt, "Khorban!". The halfling reached into a pouch and pulled out a live cricket, cupping it in that hand until he could pinch it between two fingers on the other. He held up the cricket, uttered a word of power and pointed toward the bandits surrounding Khorban, and then stuck the cricket in his mouth and swallowed.

The bandits dropped their weapons, fell to their knees and then tumbled over to the ground in magical slumber.

The bandits around Verity launched another attack. Two stabbed toward her, but found the elf too elusive for them time around. The third went for Jory and left a large gash in man's right cheek.

Verity retaliated by stabbing her rapier through the first bandit's eye socket, and the man fell dead. She spun and slashed at another bandit with her shortsword, wounding the man deeply.

Jory called out to Khorban, "Khorban, rise up!" He then turned back to the bandit he was engaged with and crushed the man's skull with one solid blow. Khorban awoke thanks to Jory's healing words, took note of his surroundings as he stood, and then killed a slumbering bandit nearby.

Roscoe expended the rest of his arcane energies in the form of three bolts of force energy flew towards the two bandits who still stood. One stabbed into the bandit injured by Verity, killing the man. The other two bolts stabbed into the one facing off against Jory and killed that man as well.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:10, Sun 04 June 2017.

link to a message in another game

Alright, then for my official RTJ

Your level of experience with D&D: I've been playing D&D for over 25 years.

Name : Mok'guleh
Race : Bugbear
Class: Rogue
Backg: Outlander

Brief description of your character's appearance:


Brief summary of their life before deciding to become an adventurer:


Why your character wants to become an adventurer:




BUGBEAR TRAITS
Your bugbear character has the following racial traits.
Ability Score Increase. Your Strength score increases
by 21 and your Dexterity score increases by 1.
Age. Bugbears reach adulthood at age 16 and live up
to 80 years.
Alignment. Bugbears endure a harsh existence that
demands each of them to remain self-sufficient, even at
the expense of their fellows. They tend to be chaotic evil.
Size. Bugbears are between 6 and 8 feet tall and
weigh between 250 and 350 pounds. Your size
is Medium.
Speed. Your base walking speed is 30 feet.
Darkvision. 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.
Long-Limbed. When you make a melee attack on your
turn, your reach for it is 5 feet greater than normal.
Powerful Build. You count as one size larger when
determining your carrying capacity and the weight you
can push, drag, or lift.
Sneaky. You are proficient in the Stealth skill.
Surprise Attack. If you surprise a creature and hit it
with an attack on your first turn in combat, the attack
deals an extra 2d6 damage to it. You can use this trait
only once per combat.
Languages. You can speak, read, and write Common
and Goblin.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:51, Tue 05 Dec 2017.

Application to another game: link to another game


I'm rules legit.

I started applying a couple of days ago, and life got busy. The game is no longer marked, so I assume you're full now, but if you've got room for one more or a player drops, I'll hang out on the sidelines for an opening.

Name: Kamish Emberforge
Race: Mountain Dwarf
Class: Forge Cleric 1/Wild Magic Sorcerer 2
Background: Soldier (Blacksmith)

Writing Sample 1: Combat round
Kamish reached up to grasp the small, silver hammer that hung around his neck, and uttered a quick prayer to heal the wounds he had sustained against this group of goblin ambushers. As the spell completed, he felt relief and energy flow back into him, bringing a smile to his bearded face.

He then tapped into the wild magic that flowed within his veins, rushing through an incantation and ripping the magical essence straight out of his body in order to send a streak of flames at a nearby goblin. He saw it hit true, but he felt the fire still burning within.

Then the world around him exploded.

Cast Cure Wounds, Quicken Spell: Firebolt, Wild Surge 07 casting Fireball centered on self


Writing Sample 2: Social or Exploration
Kamish climbed back to his feet, spitting blood that flowed from a loosened tooth and cut lip. Smoke curled around him, and his whole body ached and burned, even beneath his armor. It seemed that even quickening the simplest of spells could cause the wild surges of magical power to flood out of him. As he looked around him to take note of the damage it had caused this time, he nearly passed out just from the pain of moving. The silence around him told him well enough that the fight was over, so he let out a deep breath and tried to compose himself.

As his vision cleared, he decided to start small and moved nothing but his eyes and hands. The first thing he noticed was that his beard had been burned to nothing. Again. He'd managed three years of growth since the last time, and he was not looking forward to having to grow it back out again. He could tell just from the feeling alone, that the only thing that kept him alive was the healing spell he'd managed to cast just before the surge.

He heard a voice, but couldn't make out the words over the ringing in his ears. He wiped his eyes carefully, and then sat up to look for the source of the sound. There was no way goblins would have survived that blast, and Jorn would have certainly finished off the two he was facing by now.

He heard the voice again, this time more clearly, "Kamish! You alright over there, buddy?"

Kamish nodded to Jorn, "I'll live...I think."

"You've been holding out on me, man! When did you learn how to cast that!?"

"I didn't. That one cast itself. Remember that time my skin turned blue for nearly three weeks before we found a priest who could fix it? Same thing." Kamish took a few deep breaths, wincing at the painfully burned skill that covered his body, but calming and preparing himself to return to his feet.

Jorn came over to help him up, and retrieve the weapon and shield that had fallen from Kamish's hands. "If you're telling me what just happened here was an accident, then you seriously need to have someone take a look into whatever is wrong with you."

Kamish stood there for a moment, feeling the pain of that fiery backlash of power. He uttered one final prayer for the day to use the last of his magical reserve, removing the burning sensations that covered his skin. The beard would still take months to grow back to anything halfway reasonable, but that was a price he was willing to pay for his life.

Backstory

Lornax grew up in and around Terrah, located in the Cliffkeep, where he and the rest of his family served the Ashari tribe in maintaining the earth rift nearby. Their local leader Pa'tice, the Heart of the Mountain, directed the tribe's work and the maintaining of relationships with nearby peoples as well as the other Ashari tribes who served similar roles at the other elemental rifts across the land.

His true calling was interactions with the beasts of the wild, rather than the peoples of civilization. He learned to speak with them at a vary young age, and learned quickly the magical processes of adopting their forms. In that regard, he excelled in his druidic training and was welcomed into the Circle of the Moon at a rather early age.

With his love for his tribe, his nurturing instincts, and his sense of wanderlust made Lornax particularly good at acting as a guide and escort for traders and diplomats for the tribe. Lornax wanted to take part in the actual discussions, but he found at an early age that he was not well suited to interacting with outsiders. It seemed he had a knack for saying the wrong things, causing insult or offense of varying degrees, and he was rather quick to anger, himself. The qualities that made him good at protecting his loved ones, were the same that made him bad at dealing with the outsiders.

Trips to Kraghammer were somewhat common, and always rather tense, as they sought to warn the dwarves about their reckless mining excursions and its potential to upset the balance of the rift. He did as he was told, but he personally found the dwarves themselves to be a likable people with enjoyable personalities (racism aside). Emon was his most frequent destination, and far less tense, while Syngorn was somewhat more rare but the most enjoyable for him as the distance was greater. Lornax was able to visit the air Ashari in Zephra on his fourteenth birthday, and found the trip intriguing but oddly uncomfortable as well.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:39, Tue 09 Jan 2018.

Lornax continued his vigilant observation of the area around them as he listened to the others. Though he didn't often speak much about the Ashari with outsiders, he decided to share a bit about the subject, "In Terrah, we watch over the rift, as always, only more vigilantly and with larger numbers."

Shrade Harcroft

Male, Human, age 27

Height: 6'0". Weight: 203 lb. Eyes: Grey  Hair: Brown  Distinguishing features: facial scars

Class saving throws, skill proficiencies highlighted in blue

Level: 6 (14,000 / 23,000 XP)

Proficiency Bonus: +3
Size: Medium
Speed: 30 ft
Encumbrance: 80 lb
Lift, Drag, Push: 480 lb

Base Melee: +6
Base Ranged: +3
Spell Attack: +6
Spell Save DC: 14

Weapons:

Spell Slots:
  1: 4   2: 3   3: 2  4: 0

Prepared Spells: (Pal Cha+1/2 lv, Sorc all)
  Pal (4): Cure Wounds, Bless, Detect Magic {r}, Shield of Faith
  Sorc 1 : Shield, Expeditious Retreat
  Sorc 2 : Mirror Image, Misty Step

STR 16 (+3) [+3]  HD 2d10+4,4d6+8
DEX 10 (+0) [+0]  AC 19 (Natural 10)
CON 15 (+2) [+5]  HP 44/44
INT  8 (-1) [-1]  PAS.INV -1
WIS 10 (+0) [+3]  PAS.PER/INS. +6/+3
CHA 17 (+3) [+6]

Racial Traits
  Stats: +1 Con, +1 Cha
  Skill: Perception
  Feat : Resilience (Con): +1 Con, Proficiency in Con Saves.
  Languages: Common, Giant

Sage Traits
  Skills: Arcana, History
  Languages: (2) Draconic, Abyssal

Class Traits
  Divine Sense: (Action) locate celestial/fiend/undead within 60 ft. 1+Cha/Long Rest
  Lay on Hands: (Action) pool of 10 hp
  Style: Defense (+1 AC)
  Divine Smite: (free) when you hit, sacrifice a spell slot for 1d8+1d8/SL Radiant
   - deals +1d8 against Undead/Fiends

  Origin: Wild Magic
    Wild Surges: After casting a spell, DM can call for a d20 roll. On a 1, consult chart
    Tides of Chaos: Gain Advantage once per long rest. Recharge if DM makes you surge.
  Font of Magic: 4 points, use them to get slots back or use meta magic
  Meta Magic: Quicken (2), Extend (1)
    Quicken: casts the spell as a Bonus action
    Extend : doubles duration of the spell, max 24 hours
  ASI: +1 Str, +1 Cha

Armour: all
Weapon: all
Tools : none
Languages: Common, Giant, Draconic, Abyssal

Skills

STR +3               WIS +0
Athletics            Animal Handling
                     Insight
DEX +0               Medicine
Acrobatics           Perception
Sleight of Hand      Survival
Stealth

INT -1               CHA +3
Arcana               Deception
History              Intimidation
Investigation        Performance
Nature               Persuasion
Religion
Crafting


Equipment:  5 lbs
  Mace           d6 B    4 lbs
  Dagger         d4 P    1 lbs

Worn/Held: 77 lb
  Longsword      d8 S    3 lbs
  Shield         AC +2   6 lbs
  Chain Mail     AC 16  55 lbs
  Holy Emblem            0 lbs
  Common Clothes         3 lbs

Inside backpack: 1/30 lbs
  Bottle of Ink (black)

Inside Coin Purse
  starting gold +9.5gp for priest pack


Paladin Level 1
  Bless               (Con, 1 min) Three allies gain +1d4 to attacks & saves
  Command             Wis save vs Single word command
  Cure Wounds         heals 1d8+Cha per spell level
  Shield of Faith     (Conc, 10 min) target gains +2 AC
  Compelled Duel, Detect Evil/Good, Detect Magic, Detect Poison/Disease, Divine Favor,
  Heroism, Protection Evil/Good, Purify Food/Drink, Searing Smite, Thunderous Smite,
  Wrathful Smite

Sorcerer Cantrips (4)
  Booming Blade       Melee attack, +1d8 Thunder. If target moves, deal 2d8 Thunder
  Green-Flame Blade   Melee attack, +1d8 Fire. Deals 1d8+Cha to another target w/i 5 ft
  Light               Make things glow like a torch for 1 hour, 20 ft bright, +20 ft dim
  Fire Bolt           Spell attack, 2d10 Fire damage

Sorcerer Level 1 (3, -1 relearn at lv 3)
  Shield              (Reaction) +5 AC until start of your next turn
  Expeditious Retreat (Conc, 10 min) (Bonus) You can Dash as a bonus action

Sorcerer Level 2 (2, +1 relearn at lv 3)
  Blind/Deafen        Con Save vs Blind or Deaf, my choice. Repeat save each turn
  Mirror Image        3 images, d20 when attacked. 6+, 8+, 10+ to hit an illusion. AC 10+Cha
  Misty Step          (Bonus) teleport 30 ft to a place you can see


Sorcerer Level 3 (0)


------
Background History:

I grew up, I got strong, I learned to kill things, I collected loot. The end.

This message was last edited by the GM at 19:32, Thu 18 Jan 2018.

link to another game

Name: Blackthorn
Race: Half Orc
Class: Barbarian Zealot 5/ Paladin 2
Background: Entertainer (Gladiator)

Backstory
Born by the name of Kushk, this half-orc was sold to an arena master to pay off the debts of the human woman who gave birth to him. The arena he grew up in was one dedicated to the god, (god of war appropriate to the setting). Kushk's life was defined by this transaction, and his master trained his strength and fighting skills from the time he was only four years of age.

He started competing in non-lethal matches at the age of 10, where he quickly became a crowd favorite, earning himself rewards from the matches and gifts from the patrons. He paid a tithe of ten percent to the temple of (war god), and fifty percent to his owner, with the other forty going toward custom-crafted armor to draw more favor from the patrons.

At fourteen his prowess in the arena earned him the nickname of Blackthorn, based on the barbed armor that he'd had crafted for himself from his earnings. Two years later, he won his freedom from the arena by swearing oaths of service to (war god), and setting out into the world to do his god's bidding.

Writing Sample
The Blackthorn wiped his blade clean on the rags of the dwarven corpse in front of him. He still had no idea why the dwarves had attacked them, or what had caused their eyes to glow with that green light. As he stood, he noticed the marks of Antonina's blade across the dwarf's face, and once again felt the envy of that weapon. It was a habit left over from his time in the arena, coveting the physical possessions of the other fighters, seeking to win them through combat, or of having something even more awe-inspiring crafted from your own earnings.

The rage of battle was leaving him, his blood starting to cool ever-so-slightly, and feelings of calm...boredom, settling in over the glory he had felt just moments before. He turned and surveyed the battlefield, seeing that all of his companions were safe, and seventeen dwarven corpses laid at their feet. The fight was a good one, (god) would be pleased at the event and the result, but the unknown reason for the battle left Blackthorn feeling...cheated, like the time he'd met a woman he thought he could love, only to find out that her affections had been bought and paid for by the arena master.

He looked toward Telindra, "Green eyes? Has the giant lord found a new way to enslave minions to his cause? I grow tired of the bastard's tricks."