Character Name :  Scarscale              Height     :  6"
Character Race :  Lizardfolk             Background :  Outlander
Alignment      :  N                      Class      :  Barbarian (Beast)

Scarscale of the elder blood or Scar in the common tongue is the last member and former chief of his tribe. Back in the swampy forests of his homeland his tribe was amongst the strongest of the lizardfolk settlements and had a strict hiearachy based on strength. Scar was blessed with the elder blood, a powerful bloodline within his tribe that could awaken once a century or so. The elder blood allowed Scar to tap into the power of his ancestors during bestial rages that could enhance his fangs claws or tail to grow and become more deadly weapons. He was also able to shift his body structure to a certain extent, sometimes growing gills to battle sahuagin invaders or thousands of tiny hairs on his hands and feet that allow him to walk and climb impossibly sheer surfaces with ease.

On a night of the new moon several of the surrounding tribes gathered together and requested an audience with Scar and his tribe to plan their defences for a possible raid from the Sahuagins who had reportedly gathered a great force. Scar agreed to host the war meeting and  during the night the other tribes led hidden warriors into the settlment and began slaughtering Scars tribe. a Valiant defence was mounted by Scar and his warriors but they were overcome by sheer numbers and the suddenness of the attack. Scar's rage and strength was unmatchable as he cleaved through great swathes of enemies and even managed to kill the three other chieftains. When the last chieftains corpse fell Scar unleashed a earplitting roar of victory and the small pockets of battle came to a halt. As his rage subsided he saw that little of his tribe remained. The other tirbes offered to make him their new chieftain by right of battle, for he had undoubtledly earned the position through his display of terrifying strength.

Scar refused and chose exile rather than leadership over a tribe of cowards and weaklings that could only win through trickery and betrayal. He set out as a wanderer and sought new challenges so he could die with honour or find a mate worthy of his strength and rebuild his tribe. Scar carries the history of his tribe and is the last known inheritor of the Elderblood within his family line.

Scar Wears little clothing outside of necklaces and bracelets covered in tribal fetishes with the exception of his backpack and weapon sheathes. He has spent enough time around the soft skin races to learn some of their habits and moral or social cues even if they make little sense to him.

Scar was the chief of his tribe and carried the blessing of the elder blood, the ability to tap into the potent blood of his ancient ancestors and in times of need transform aspects of his body to more primal and powerful forms of his ancestors.

Scar's tribe was overtaken and defeated by a coalition of neighbouring tribes, Scar survived and defeated each of the enemy chiefs in combat but chose exile from his ancestral lands rather than lead an inferior clan that was not strong enough to defeat his tribe without aid. He bears no true ill will outside of disgust at the tactics employed by the other tribes. The simple truth was that his tribe was too weak and so fell.

Scar has travelled through desert, jungles, swamps and forests in search of a tribe worthy to lead and bear his progeny so that the unbroken line of elder blood will continue. Until he has found a worthy tribe he has pitted himself agaisnt dangerous foes so that all will know the strength of his one lizard tribe.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:16, Sat 30 July 2022.

Character Name :  Beck Freed             Height     :  6"
Character Race :  Human Variant          Background :  Haunted One
Alignment      :  N                      Class      :  Fighter (Rune Knight)

Beck was born into slavery and spent the first 12 years of his life in a quarry and remembers little other than the repition of hammering and chisseling or pushing and dragging slabs of Granite. Regardless of weather or season he worked in the quarry with no knowledge of his family or any other life. his only glimmpse of a would outside the great stone cliffs, wooden ramparts and sleeping sheds were from stories told by those who were once free. There was a comeraderie of sorts in the quarry as if the work was not done then they would all be punished however many of the slaves were not above selling out the others, escpecially when threatened with group wide punishments. often the old or the infirm would take the blame if a younger slave made a mistake but not in all cases. Beck had once had his life spare by such and act of charity. Beck had not known the mans name and knew too little of the world to know of the weight and meaning of the sacrifice but her understood years later and always offered a prayer to the kind stranger whenever he was able to save anothers life.

At the age of 12 he was dragged away and bundled into a caged cart with half dozen other youths ranging from 12-16 years of age and after several weeks found themselves in a port city and quickly sold to serve on a pirate galley and used to haul shot and reef sails much like the rest of the crew but were chained up at night in gangs of 5 in the brig. Each of therm wore a magical collar that caused severe pain if an order was disobeyed and this could be activated by the captain. the Captain was less viscious and cruel than the foreman of the quarry and rarely hurt them for pleasures sake. His punishments were severe for minor infractions however but they were always able to carry out their tasks. In deck to deck fighting they were chained in pairs and sent forward with rusted weapons as literal cannon fodder. After 5 years the orignal members that had joined the crew on the same day had dwindled to four others;

Dury - foul mouthed dwarf Barbarian witha grim sense of humour and a suprisingly good brewer of grogg that he traded with crew memebers for extra rations and benefits. His favorite method of fighting was to hurl heavy objects at his enemies as well as grappling opponsnents ands swinging them as weapons at his enemies. More than a few pirates, raiders or navel marines had focused too much on Karagan to find themselves hurtled at theri comrades by cackling dwarf.

Karagan - A quiet and kind ageing Goliath with a deep respect for battle who sought a to die in glorious battle before succoming to age. Karagan was always in the thick of every battle and weilded an anchor in each hand like hammers in each battle. It was not until the day of their escape that he revealed he was in fact a powerful rune smith.

Alik - a half orc ranger that tamed the rats in the brig and taught them simple tricks to pass the time. He preferred the company of the rats to other people and rarely spoke even to   the other collared. he often responded with nods or shakes of the head or other body language for more complex answers. He could speak but for unknown reasons chose not to but was a hard worker and carried out every taks given with silent efficiency, even during battle. He favoured hand axes in melee and always managed to find himself a ranged weapon very wuickly into the fight which he used to target particularly strong enemies or ones that appeared to be giving orders.

Bria - a tiefling monk that ran around the rigging like a purple monkey and was overly bright and optimitic regardless of the circumstance. She had a gift for talking and entertaining and was freindly with most of the crew and rarely found herself on the end of punishment. She was also an natural born enternaier and acrobat with an impressive singing voice. In a fight she could cause havoc amongst the enmy and was the only one of the collared that fought alone in battle, often being sent into the enemy rigging to cut lines and rain burning pitch onto the deck below or simply distracting enemies so the rest of us could take them unawares.

In battle, Bec was often paired with Karagan and so learned to focus on defending himself and his partner from being flanked or surrounded. Bec preferred to use halberds and polearms  to keep enemies at bay or take advantage forma slip in their guard and attack whisdlt keeping a safe distance from Karagans anchors or wildly flying projectiles and people if paired with Dury. when paired with Alik he was able to provide enough breathign room for the half-orc to pick off the targets from range or flank them with his axes.

Character Name :  Glib                   Height     :  5"4
Character Race :  Tiefling               Background :  Criminal
Alignment      :  CG                     Class      :  Bard (Lore)

Glib is an anarchist and rabblerouser that has been trying to stir up the populace of the outer city into taking action and overthrowing their oppressors. Unfortuantely very few have the will or desire to try and overthrow much so she often has to result to petty crimes such as graffitti and social media posts regarding her exploits. She has developed contacts within the criminal elelments of the city and her brazen displays have even earned a little respect.

If nothing else she can serve as a good destraction for more professional and money inded criminals and she often takes on such jobs for a share of the proceeds to fund her struggling cause. Glibs has been around the city and has picked upa  lot of gossip and information from talking to trader, strangers and other criminals. Though not strictly barred from the inner city she chooses to remain in the outer city to help fan the embers of rebellion so that here fellow city dwellers can rise up and overthrow their coporate chains of oppression.

Character Name :  Derrick                Height     :  6"
Character Race :  Human (V)              Background :  Dead
Alignment      :  NE                     Class      :  Paladin  (Oathbreaker) Warlock (Undead)


A former hero and paladin that died almost 200 hundred years prior after being stripped of his powers by his god for disoebying its decree. He was branded a traitor and executed for the murder of a high priest of his faityh after this priest sacrifced Derrick's family whilst he was away. Derrick's soul has been brought back into another body by an Elder Lich that had formerly been Derricks enemy. The lich offered another life and a chance for revenge agaisnt Derrick's former god and the descendants of the high priest that now form the head of a powerful theocracy. Derrick accepted and was granted patronage and some of the liches arcane knowledge. The Elder Lich, through unknown fell rituals was able to corrupt the previous connection with Derricks god granting him the abilities of a paladin once more though corrupted.

Character Name :  Rodney  Tackle         Height     :  5"8
Character Race :  Human (V)              Background :  Fisher
Alignment      :  N                      Class      :  Bard  (Eloquence)

Rodney or Rod is a simple fisherman who turned to adventuring after his family's heirloom, a magical rod named Kraken Bait was stolen. The rod was suppossedly used by a famour ancestor to successful fish and capture a grown Kraken. Rodney has left his alrge family and idylic home surrounded by lakes and rivers in order to try and recover this heirloom so it can be passed on to his family.

Magic items were gifted by a Wizard named Arlo whose grandaughter was amongst the group of villagers and commoners he had helped escort and protect to the southlands. Arlo gave them as a reward and to help aid the fisherman as he headed back towards the north. The ring to shield his mind from the madness and corrupting thoughts that plagued dreams and waking hours. The flute of illusions was so he could bring hope, joy and light when he played for those in need and the sword was so that he could fight the encroaching darkness.

Character Name :  Galinneiros Dayedarai  Height     :  5"8
Character Race :  High elf               Background :  Criminal
Alignment      :  CE                     Class      :  Wizard  (necromancer)

Name: Galinneiros Dayedarai (Commonly uses the name Gald)
Appearance:  He is fairly youthful and appears little older than a human in their early 20's with a slight frame and sharp shifting eyes. At a glance he seems relatively harmless if discounting any visible weapons. He rarely makes direct eye contact and seems to always stay slightly scrunched up, making himself look shorter than he really is.

Personality: Gald lets other see him as weak and will often pretend to give into pressure. his best quality isn't strength of arm but strength of mind and a cruelly cold patience. All insults and bullying can be easily paid for tenfold in time. He was born in a small village that fluxuated between being part of several warring nations as they fought their decades long war. The village stayed quiet and were smart enough to hide what little food they could in the nearby forest. one of the nations in the war was an alliance between several large groups of wood elves. they were hated and feared by the mostly human village folk and the fact that their family were high elves didn't seem to matter much. Gald's father was a strong and capable former adventurer who had settled down learned the blacksmiths trade. His skill with hammer and forge made him a necessity to the village and not many would challenge him to a brawl. His quiet and studious son was a much better target for their anger.

Gald had been weak and frail as a child but his mind sharpened on books and scrolls. He would often visit old Hendrik on the edge of the woods. It was well known he could cast magic though only little things like creating water and fire and other little tricks. He was a quiet, gentle man with  large collection of interesting books. Gald had been caught trying to steal one as a child and the old man gave him a belting for his trouble. Gald received another when his mother found out what he had done. Gald was sent to help the old man with chores as further punishment. Hendrik was reluctant and a little put off with the company. Until he discovered that Gald had a talent for magic. He taught him only simple tricks at first but over time would take him deep into the woods to show him more....frowned upon magics. he learned to bring creatures back from the brink of death and was taught other spells he was forbidden to use. the power was intoxicating and years went by in study and training.

it became well known he could use magic and some of the bolder villagers grew fearful once more. A small group caught him alone returning from the old mans hut and beat him. he used what spells he knew and crippled one of his attackers witch set the others to frenzy. during the scuffle a knife flashed and he felt searing agony in his torso followed by several more and finally one to the throat. He could remember drowning in his own blood, a horrid burbling noise issuing from his throat as he collapsed to the dirt.

When he awoke in a dank and mouldy stone room, the sound of dripping water echoed eerily. a scraping sound like two stones was proceeded by a cracking noise. the sounds repeated in a  rhythm and he realized something was moving. he sat up and noticed the several skeletons wandering the room. he drew himself up and suppressed a scream for help. they wandered aimlessly and were carrying pieces of furniture from the room and packing them into great wooden chests. He looked down at the stone slab he had laid on, surrounded by magical circles too complex for him to understand. finally he gazed into a corner and his dark vision made out the shape of Hendrik sat in a great stone chair. He was unnaturally still and his usual smile was a rictus grin. The man seemed to have aged a great deal since he saw him last and had little more flesh than the skeletons that wandered the room. Hendriks crypt now. Several decades must have passed for such a drastic effect.

A note was clasped tightly in his old teachers hands. he pried it open and the flesh was still soft, he had likely died mere hours before. It read:

My dear apprentice,

I am dead.

I was never able to learn the secrets to lichedom but a glimmer of hope remains. I have given you life again and in time i would ask you return my gift in kind. You will have to learn how but you have 200 years and i have confidence in your abilities. See your killers who brought you low wandering this room now. Know they suffered many years under my care and now shall serve you. from their very tanned flesh and blood i have wrought you your first book of spells. Fill its pages with the darkest of arts and find your destiny.
Remember that this world has already killed you once so return the favour in kind i say!

Bring me back to life and we shall be immortals.

Death is just the beginning.

Arkellion Hendrik, Lord of the Ebony Throne

Gald soon wandered the crypts with the skeletons in tow and his spellbook chained to his hip. he felt no disgust or revulsion as would be expected. In fact he found it rather comforting to keep it nearby. Something had changed in the young man, life was now a mere state of being. Clay to be moulded in his hands and shaped as he saw fit. He left the crypt with a smile that would herald years tortured cries and hundreds of deaths. All in the pursuit of knowledge and power. death was just his beginning.

Character Name :  Antonio Sinti          Height     :  6"2
Character Race :  Tabaxi                 Background :  Urban Bounty Hunter
Alignment      :  CN                     Class      :  Rogue

Character description: Antonio stands at a respectable height of 6"2' and despite his plentiful and luscious fur is fairly lithe and wiry. His fur is a a dark bluish gray colour and he spends a great deal of time grooming himself in his spare time. He has a scar over his right eye but otherwise appears unmarked and unblemished. He wears a light leather armour tailored rather flamboyantly with matching boots and hat with a large red feather sticking out of it. Antonio wears a rapier at his hip when able and often looks for a good crowd to impress. Even when chasing criminals he has been known to drive them towards a good crowd so he can defeat them with an audience. He moves and acts with dramatic intent most of the time. He can be selfish and unpredictable at times but is fairly dependable when there is a shared goal. Though not strictly lawful or charitable he doesn't tend to act out of malice and obeys the law unless it puts him at a personal disadvantage when pursuing a goal. On occasion he has managed to barely persuade the guards that his actions were within the limit of the law.

Writing sample:"So you wish to know my tale traveller? Why wouldn't you! Doubtless you have heard of my many acts of bravery and daring skill but it was not always so. I was born a simple merchant's son, though the wares we sold were not always strictly regarded as wholesome.

I was taught to fight with a blade by my mother and  father. Sword dancing has been a time honoured tradition in the Sinti family and it is a useful skill to learn in our trade. Mostly we dance to celebrate but on occasion we dance to defend ourselves and our kit and kin." Antonio leans forward and begins to speak in a more hushed tone." Of course I was also taught a few tricks of the trade if you know what I mean. Townsfolk have a habit of confiscating our wares and livelihoods! We would have starved many winters ago if we had not learned to regain what was stolen from us."

He takes a swig from his goblet and his nails tap the pewter in excitement as his voice returned to its much more cheerful and loud tones.

"I danced the swords well and grew tired of the constant travelling, haggling and bickering of merchants. When at last we came to Dene. Ah Dene. So much opportunity  and excitement. So much money and fame to be gained. I found my particular skill set worked remarkably well for hunting other small time criminals. I remember the first time I stopped a thief escaping with a rather voluptuous woman's purse. The applause was magnificent and her own personal reward was just as enjoyable and only required a quick shimmy over the rooftops when her father had gone to sleep. I found my calling in this city friend."

He paused to gulp down the remainder of his goblet and licked a few errant drops of wine from his whiskers and small beard. A light purring issued from his chest before he settled down and returned to his story.

"I said my goodbyes to my family and began Hunter wanted men and women for profit. I also took a few other odd jobs along the way. Despite my success it seems I have reached a plateau. The crowds are not impressed by petty criminals anymore. There seems to be no risk and word of my talents proceed me. I have become a common spectacle and that will not do at all. I have a plan though, I will join the adventurers guild and earn more money and fame until my name is on everyone's lips and every lady's mind haha. In the coming years you will tell others how you once spoke to the great Antonio Sinti in a tavern and you will be the envy of the town. Mark my Words, greatness awaits me in this city!"

He hopped from the bar stool and stood at his full height. He placed a few silvers on the bar and winked at the traveller who had so patiently listened to his tale before swaggering out the door and into the hustle and bustle of the city.

Character Name :  Vimak Stormherald      Height     :  8
Character Race :  Goliath                Background :  Inheritor
Alignment      :  CN                     Class      :  Cleric (Tempest)

Vimak was born in the Mountains on the south eastern cape of Burna. He was born during one of the worst storms his tribe had experienced in several decades. The storm lasted for several weeks and was seen as a terrible omen. Druids and wizards were consulted but their attempts to calm and disperse the storm seemed to only increase its strength and destructive power. The tribe began an exodus to the lower peaks, seeking shelter but the storm followed. Many of the old and young had perished in the journey and the tribe became desperate. When despair threatened to consume them a tribeless Goliath cleric appeared in the dead of night. He claimed to be the mouthpiece of the storms master. He sought the child that had been born when the storms first peal of thunder shook the mountains. He stated that the child had been chosen and that only by giving up the child would the storm end, failure to do so would result in the tribes destruction. Vimak's father challenged the cleric to single combat. his honour would not allow his son to be given away without battle. Vimak later learned that his fathers body was shattered to pieces by a single blow that erupted with thunderous force. having proven his strength the babe was given to the Cleric and the dissipated into the rain. Several days later the storm faded.

Vimak's life was brutal and harsh. Every failure was punished severely so that he might serve his god. For years he only knew his god as the Great Storm and worshipped him as his mentor commanded.  When he reached adolescence he was taken to the highest peak and told to pray until the Great Storm spoke to him. Several days past and he grew weaker and weaker until he was certain he would die on that mountain peak. In anger he cursed his god and bellowed his rage into the winds, using the last of hi strength he pushed the stone altar from atop the peak with a triumphant roar. At that moment he didn't care that he would surely die, he simply revelled in the destruction of his cruel and fickle gods alter. As his breath grew shallow he stared at the sky and the storm that had begun to gather with contempt. Three bolts of lightening arced from the clouds and struck him filling his body with divine energy and scarring his body with lightening shaped tattoos. The tattoo - scars on the left side of his body were green whilst the scars on the right of his body were purple. The marks on the centre of his body were blue. his face was untouched but for his forehead that bore the three distinct lightning bolts that marked his gods symbol.

With the lightning strike he also heard the vice of his god for the first time. His name was Talos and Vimak had been chosen to be one of his heralds in Epela. Spreading the faith and fear for the storms. Vimaks lessons advanced quickly and he soon set off from the mountains to spread his faith. At first his preaching were ignored and rejected as monstrous or cruel. Vimak was not dissuaded but could find few others that shared his faith or would not turn him away. He was passing through Dene when he was caught up in a great crowd of cheering. Following its source he found a group of adventurers with etherium plates around their necks. Vimak asked around and discovered that the plates around their necks were a sign of strength and skill. He was happy to move on and ignore this until he heard that the wearer of such a plate would be invited by kings and queens and were regarded highly. He pondered how much influence he could gather if he was able to earn such a plate. Perhaps people would speak his name and attend his sermons and so spread the name of Talos far and wide to be feared and respected.

Character Name :  Ronalf Keel-Breaker    Height     :  5"7
Character Race :  Half elf               Background :  Pirate
Alignment      :  CG                     Class      :  Warlock (Great Old One)

The Inn was quiet in the early hours of the morning and the room held a quiet ambience occasionly broking by the crackling or shifting of wood in the fire that made the place barely more hospitable and welcoming than the frigid air outside. Ranolf sat as close to the fire as was safely comfortable and stared at the untouched mug of ale in front of him, losing himself in memories. The few remaining customers shot him furtive glances as though anticipating trouble, Ranolf had been based in Easthaven nearly 2 years to the day and the locals were still wary of his presence.

The locals rarely commented on his precence publicly, there were more important things to worry about, however the occasional traveller were often curious. Strangers would watch the grizzled man with suspicion and a cautiousness that was well earned. His salt and pepper flecked hair was largely unkempt though often drawn back into a leather corded ponytail and the long scar over his right eye was far too clean to have been made by any beast or accident. From the open collar of his shirt were scars on his neck of an undefinable origin though clearly uniform in shape, similar in formation to a gallows mark yet they could not have been made by any rope they knew off. The eyes were usually drawn to his slightly pointed ears and the elegant frame of his face that marked him as a half-elf after they had taken in the scar. the scar was not the only thing that would identify Ronalf as he always carried a sturdy and curiously carved belaying pin seemingly carved from whalebone tucked into his belt and a scrap of sail cloth bearing a strange symbol that he kept rolled upa dn wore like a necklace.

Rumour had it that he was the very Ronalf Keelbreaker that had robbed and pillaged the sword coast for the last 5 decades or so before mysteriously vanishing with his ship The Krakens Mercy at the height of his fame and success. The stories had largely become exaggerated over time but there was no doubt that he was a particularly violent and merciless pirate captain. The stories told that survivors of his raids were tied or chained to the decks before scuttling the ship. it was also said that if a ship surrendered he would lash them to barrels and flotsam and leave them to the mercy of the see. Regardless he earned his epithet by ensuring no ship he sought would every reach dry land. The Ronalf of Easthaven was fairly solitary but cheerful and a good hand on the fishing boats and always free to lend a hand when someone was in a tight spot, nothing like the dread pirate in the stories. Yet it could not be denied he had a certain presence in the few times he had barked commands on the fishing boats in a tight spot and he had a certain hand when handling rope, sail and tiller. The physical description matched almost perfectly as well and one travelling bard even had a rough likeness that could be his twin. The question that played at the locals mind on occasion was why he was in ice-dale? if he was indeed Ronalf Keel-breaker then he should have ammassed a great fortune and living in comfort, not shivering each day in a small hut on the river side.

Ronalf was oblivious to the speculation and glances of his cohabitants and dreamed an old life of salt spray, wind and canvas. He had been young when The Krakens Mercy anchored of his small fishing cove. he remembered little other than being grabbed by rough hands and carried off to the ship as his village burned. No explanation had ever been given and none was ever asked as he joined the other bilge rats or rigging monkeys that called the ship home. His memories flashed forward, he was 12 years old and had just killed for the first time with warm blood covering his face and running down the edge of his blade. it had felt as if he had been dropped into the sea in winter, moments later he was being cheered and tossed into the air repeatedly by the crew and soon enough was given the name Ronalf by the Captain, marking his official membership to aldult hood and a real member of the crew. More memories flashed by as he rose through the ranks and challenged the Captain, beating him to death with a belaying pin and becoming Captain. Raiding towns and ships, the first time he was called Keel-breaker, through the golden years of his life until the darkest.

The ultimate downfall of the The Krakens Mercy and Ronalf Keel-Breaker was pride and greed. They had raided a ship filled with magical artifacts and were in good spirits. Ronalf took a sapphire orb that seemed to contain a raging sea and storm in miniature as his share and soon after the trouble began. Many of the crewmates Ronalf had set out with as children were now entering their twilight years and wished to return to land, retire and enjoy their ill-gotten wealth. Ronalf and the younger members of the crew disagreed however but agreed that they could leave when they next went to port, knowing that it could be several years before this would happen. In the dead of night a mutiny occured and Ronalf was dragged out from his bed, bleeding and broken as the crew beat him with belaying pins. they had considered it a fitting fate. Ronalf was unconcious when they tied the chains around his neck, arms and legs and weight them down to a cannon before rolling it off the edge of the deck. he was woken by the cold shock of salt water and struggled in vain agaisnt his bindings. He screamed curses as the water filled his lungs but his last thoughts begged for life at any cost. He heard an unearthly voice in his head, old as the oceans and unfathomably large. Ronalf did not understand the language it spoke yet he somehow understood. Before he drowned his last sight was off a great dark shape grasping upwards and the sillouhette of his ship shattering to pieces.

Ronalf awoke very much alive on a beach near a ruined fishing village he knew where he was and shivered, the crashing waves on the cliffs echoing with laughter in his mind and a voice too old to fathom "The pact has been paid for in death and so you shall belong to me in life". Ronalf eventually discovered that 3 years had passed since he was thrown overboard but he had no recollection of the time in between. He awoke with whalebone belaying pin carved in flowing runic script that curled and spiraleed like a breaking wave and felt power through it. He had an awareness of abilities he did not remember having and found he had some limited use of magic and an innate ability to summon an ethereal part of his master into the world for a short time. When next he slept he dreamt of a place he had never seen before, a great mountain and three lakes in the frozen northlands and always the eyes, the voice, the deep and the dark.

Ronalf startled himself out off his memerories and blinked slowly. The slow and simple life in icedale had not been an easy fit for him and he had spent 2 years waiting for some sign of what he was suppossed to be doing. 2 years of nightmares off his previous life and his servitude to something that made even his wildest dreams insignifigant. 2 years followed by the ghosts of his crew that had grown up, killed for, betrayed by and ultimately sacrificed for him. The darkness and bitter cold of the place hung heavy on him. once he would have scoffed at the supersitions of this frost Maiden.

Locals rarely commented on his presence publicly, but there was plenty of muttering whenever Ronalf walked by. Passerby's would watch the grizzled man with suspicion and a cautiousness that was well earned. His salt and pepper flecked hair was largely unkempt though often drawn back into a leather corded ponytail and the long scar over his right eye was far too clean to have been made by any beast or accident. Displayed under the open collar of his shirt were scars on his neck of an undefinable origin though clearly uniform in shape, similar in form to a gallows mark yet they could not have been made by any conventional rope. The eyes were usually drawn to his slightly pointed ears and the elegant frame of his face that marked his elven heritage. Ronalf always carried a sturdy and curiously carved belaying pin, seemingly carved from some kind of shimmering jewel which he kept tucked into his belt and a scrap of sail cloth bearing strange symbols that he kept rolled up and wore like a necklace.

In his youth Ronalf Keelbreaker had been a notorious pirate robbing and pillaging the sword coast for almost 3 decades or so before mysteriously vanishing with his ship The Krakens Mercy at the height of his notoriety. The stories had largely become exaggerated over time and told that he was a particularly violent and merciless pirate captain. Survivors of his raids were said to have been tied or chained to the decks before their ship was scuttled. It was also said that if a ship surrendered he would lash them to barrels and flotsam and leave them to the mercy of the sea. A few very rare stories painted Ronalf in a more generous light, reporting that he sent the survivors off in their longboats with provisions before scuttling the ships. these stories are far and few between however. Regardless of the particulars had  earned his epithet by ensuring no ship he sought would every reach dry land whole.

The adventurer Ronalf was fairly solitary but cheerful and a good worker  and always free to lend a hand when someone was in a tight spot, nothing like the dread pirate in the stories. Yet it could not be denied he had a certain presence in the few times he had barked commands in a sticky situation and he had a certain air of comfort and confidence when handling rope, sail and tiller. The physical description from the ale stories matched him well and one travelling bard even had a rough likeness that could be his younger brother. The question that played at people's minds most was why would the dread Keelbreaker be an adventurer? If he was indeed Ronalf Keelbreaker then he should have amassed a great fortune and be living a life comfort and debauchery, not risking his life and sleeping rough ins tables out of the rain.

Ronalf was not oblivious to the speculation and glances but paid them little mind. In moments of quiet he dreamed of an old life of salt spray, wind and canvas. He had been young when The Krakens Mercy anchored off his small fishing cove. He remembered little other than being grabbed by rough hands and carried off to the ship as his village burned. No explanation had ever been given and none was ever asked for as he joined the other bilge rats and rigging monkeys that called the ship home. His memories would always flash forward, he was 12 years old and had just killed for the first time with warm blood covering his face and running down the edge of his blade. It had felt as if he had been dropped into the sea in winter, moments later he was being cheered and tossed into the air repeatedly by the crew and soon enough was given the name Ronalf by the Captain, marking his official membership to adulthood and a real member of the crew. More memories flashed by as he rose through the ranks and challenged the Captain, beating him to death with a belaying pin and becoming and taking his place. Raiding towns and ships, the first time he was called Keel-breaker, memories flashing by through the darker years of his older life.

The ultimate downfall of the The Krakens Mercy and Ronalf Keel-Breaker had been pride. They had raided a ship filled gold and jewels as well as several magical artifacts and were in good spirits. Ronalf took a mysterious shimmering orb that seemed to contain a labyrinthian structure of shapes and colours that caused ache to the mind when studied too long. Each new angle of viewing seemed to show a completely different set of shapes, an optical illusion Ronalf had told himself, some illusionists toy, yet it was seductive in its strange way and no other gem was a s beautiful to Ranolf as the shimmering orb.

Ranolf began to become more secluded and cared less and less for plunder and instead plotted erratic courses across the sea risking storms and deadly reefs. Crewman were lost and supplies ran lower with stops for provisions becoming ever scarce. Eventually he dropped anchor in a desolate and eerily placid part of the sea. No fish were spotted in the water nor birds in the sky and for several weeks they stayed in that position as Ranolf refused to leave his cabin. Ranolf spent the days muttering to himself at the orb. His memories of the time were a blur and remembered as though watching from another persons perspective, observing rather than precisely remembering. Many of the crewmates Ronalf had set out with as children were now entering their twilight years and wished to return to land, retire and enjoy their ill-gotten wealth. One by one they began to fear what fate might await them if they remained loyal to the Captain. The younger members of the crew spoke openly of mutiny and even Ranolf's oldest and most loyal friends could see which direction the winds of fate were blowing. As far as they were concerned Ronalf had already condemned them to a long and drawn out death.

In the dead of night Ronalf was dragged out from his bed, bleeding and broken as the crew resorted to beating him after he had struck a crew member dead with orb. Ronalf was unconscious when they tied the chains around his neck, arms and legs before lashing him to the spare anchor. Ranolf was woken by the cold shock of salt water and struggled in vain against his bindings. He screamed curses as the water filled his lungs and but his last thoughts begged for life at any cost. He heard an unearthly and ageless voice in his head. Ronalf did not comprehend the language it spoke yet he somehow understood. Before he drowned his last sight was off a great shape grasping upwards and the silhouette of his ship shattering to pieces. He heard the screams off his mutinous crew so clearly in his memories yet knew it could not have been possible.

Ronalf awoke very much alive on a beach near a ruined fishing village he had recognised where he was and shivered, the crashing waves on the cliffs echoing with a kind of laughter in his mind and a voice too old to fathom "The pact has been paid for in death and so you shall belong to me in life". Ronalf eventually discovered that 3 years had passed since he was thrown overboard but he had no recollection of the time in between. He awoke with a shimmering belaying pin carved in flowing runic script that curled and spiraled in unnatural ways and felt power through it. The belaying pin was made from the same curious material as the shimmering orb he once cherished. Memories of the orb only brought revulsion and fear to Ronalf now. He had awoken with an awareness of abilities he had never possessed and found he had some limited use of magic. Though mostly illiterate he could now understand all letters and words he laid eyes on regardless of origin and could speak directly to another's mind though he did his best to avoid using this gift with strangers.

2 years he wandered with the ghosts of his crewmates lingering just out of sight and on the shadows of his mind before he fell into the life of an adventurer. He had liberated a small village from a group of local thugs, after that he had killed a few goblins that ambushed a merchant cart he had travelled with. The adventures life seemed to suit Ranolf and he felt a bit of the joy he once had as he threw himself into danger for riches and reward. he did not believe it could ever be the same but it was a start and perhaps one day he would discover what he had bargained with for his life. eventually he joined a group of other adventurers  and began his new life in earnest.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:49, Fri 05 Aug 2022.

Character Name :  Kroland 'Ironleg' Rocksinger     Height     :  4
Character Race :  Dwarf Hill                       Background :  Soldier
Alignment      :  LN                               Class      :  Fighter (Cavalier)

Kroland is optimistic and proud but also stubborn to a fault. He earned his epiphet iron leg because he never steps back or gives ground unless absolutely neccesary and has stood in shieldwalls against wave after wave of enemies without moving back a pace. He applies the same stubborness and tactic when training new warriors as one of the Clans Weapon Masters. Kroland served as an officer in Dammerhalls army and was away from his home when disaster struck, by the time he arrived the flkames had burned out and the city was completely lost.

Few members of his great family survived and most that did retreated to sedidentary lives amongst the human cities. Kroland has taken part on many of the expeditions seeking entrance to Dammerhall and eventually found himself allied with clan Stoneaxe, one of the few remainig great clans that have not given up on reclaiming their home.

Kroland has no doubt that they will reclaim Dammerhall and that it will shine once more as the brightest jewel in the dwarven empire but if possible he would walk its halls once more and put the ghosts of his past at peace before he dies. If he falls in the effort then he would not consider it a wasted death. With the destruction of Dammerhall and loss of his family, Kroland places less importance in codes of honour and tradition, the staunch honour codes he once lived by becoming less important than the future of his people as each passingdecade saw more humans and the dilution of his peoples values ind independence.

Kroland cares more about giving his people a place to belong and rebuild than about his personal honour and hopes that his descendants might understand that a stain on his personal honour was gladly paid for their future.

Character Name :  Cathrain Thorne        Height     :  5"7
Character Race :  Dhampir                Background :  Urban Bounty Hunter
Alignment      :  CN                     Class      :  Fighter (renegade)

Thorne is the product of a long line of Dhampirs bred by a longstanding vampire clan referred to as the Grigori family. Devoted servants of the dark god they have bred dhampirs for generations to serve as disposable servants for the dark gods whims. Though many dhampire children are born only a few from each generation surive the brutal trials and make it to adulthood. Thorne was one of the lucky, or perhaps unlucky few that survived to adulthood. He has been passed through the Grigori family's crucible, the final test where he was locked in a labyrinthian basement with a full blooded vampire and survive the night. The crucible left him with severe facial scarring and a deep rooted fear of vampires and his family.

Thorne was trained in the more sophisitacted methods of stalking, sneaking and killing prey from afar and was eventually put to work as he travelled from city to city killing as dicated by the Grigori family. He has become infamous in a few cities with bounties having being place don his head. Due to his unmistakable appearance thios makes travel in those cities more difficult. He has alos set a trend of copy cats who dress in a similar fashion and commit personal acts of voilence or otherwise lie and cheat banking on Thorne's criminal reputation.

Word reached the Grigori family that once again another cult was soon to herald the birth of their Dark God into this world and sent Thorne as a gift to serve the dark god should the cult actually succeed for once. He was also given orders to kill all cultists in attendance should they fail for the Grigori family has a strong opinion on what to do with failures.

Character Name :  Jack Stranger          Height     :  6"
Character Race :  Reborn                 Background :  Feylost
Alignment      :  CN                     Class      :  Barbarian (wild magic)

Jack is a fairly cynical yet freindly individual with a devil may care outlook and an optimisitc disposition that is hard to miss (or ignore). Though not particularly selfish or mean spirited he does not render his assistance or aid without payment of some form though admittedly the price can be trivial. He is reluctant to let go of his past in the Feywild and so continues to live by the odd and sometimes baffling 'rules' of the feywild though this could easily be mistaken for whimsical refusal to accept the reality as it exists around them. This loose set of mannerisms and rules can vary wildly and change though several core rules always remain, most notably his requirement of a cost for aid or assistance. He takes no particular pleasure in others misery and much prefers to be surrounded by frivolity and mirth yet does not have an abundance of empathy and is often unswayed by sad events or misfortune that befalls over aroudn him.

Jack cannot remember his original appearance, race, home or even his name. His earliest memory is seeing a great host of ethereal riders in the night that he found himself compelled to follow. His journey was blur of locations, sounds and smells and he eventually awoke in the feywild. After wandering the wylds he found himself unwittingly became becoming a favoured servant of a powerful fey of the summer court. Eventually he was even chosen to be one of her many'spouses'and had his soul bound to her through magical means unknown.

Over time his mortal form withered and was reshaped by his spouse according to her whims as they travelled between the realms. On occasion they would argue and fightas all partners do Jack would be cast into one of the myriad mortal realms soulbound to a pumpkin lantern that would attach itself to a headless corpse until he could find his way back to the feywild. This cycle had repeated no less than 4 times in the past but each time he always found his way home and was forgiven. This last time was little different however the location that the headless body he was drawn to take over was in a much grimmer locale before. To the locals he provided the name Jack, it was easy to remember with a face like his after all and he preferred not to provide his fey name where possible as he knew from experience that names held power over the owners in the feywild.

Upon arriving in the world he was uncremoniously collected by a group of rabid children from the body he was bonding too and used as an object of fun, the game being to kick his head as hard as possible and make Jack use even more profane language at increasing volume. Fortunately he was delivered from the fate of being a bodilles magical pumpkin head by and elderly elf named Auberee, who admonished the children in such a manner as to make the most miserly grandmother impressed. Aubree returned Jack to the body so he could complete his assimilation into the mortal world. Jack lodged with Aubree and consider himself indebted to her and so she alone he would assist without cost, for as far as Jack was concerned it had already been paid in full.

Jack Had lodged with Aubree when ever he passed through the village and found a sense of comaraderie wither her despite the odd disagreement on points of philosophy and morality. The only other signifigant connection had made was to one Alexander Cahir. An unpleasantly handsome human with breeding so pure his blood should have been blue. Alex had appeared amicable if a little arrogant on their first meeting and in truth the little lordling looked so pathetic soaked in mud and shivering from the winter rain that Jack could not help but laugh at his pitiful countenance whilst barking orders at Jack for assistance with no ability to enforce them. Alex had become lost whilst hunting alone to impress some relative or another and Jack helped him return home for a single gold coin and his ruined surcoat. Several week later Alex returend and struck a bargain with Jack, if Jack helped him with three goals he would use his families influence to request his uncle, a powerful and accomplished magician, assist Jack with returning home to the feywilds. Several years passed and Alex the youth became Alex the over enthusiatic and eventually Alexander the bold.

Near 3 decades passed before Jack had completed his side of the bargain but Alex had grown ever more prideful and arrogant and had Jack cast out from his lands rather than paying the price agreed. Jack cursed the Cahir family in every tongue he could utter yet lacked the strength to enact his vengeance personally. Before he could even begin to prepare he was taken by the mists. HIs chance at revenge appears to have been delayed, but bitter anger at the Cahir family still remains.

Character Name :  Beric Beranecessides   Height     :  8"
Character Race :  Firbolg                Background :  Chef
Alignment      :  NG                     Class      :  Barbarian (totem warrior)

Beric was born to the esteemed Beranecessides family, famed for their expertise in archaelogical discoveries and collective historical knowledge.
There motto 'Don't pick the prickly pear by the paw, when you pick a pear try to use the claw' has become synonous with their doctrine of unconventional archaelogical methods of excavation and unique manner in which they view evidence with a practical and methodical approach.

Beric was born a Beranecessides and therefore an esteemd seeker of knoweledge and history but he was not satisfied with combing through dusty tomes and overturning rocks. No. Beric was born to be a Chef! A culinary wizard, a Cleric to cooking and a Paladin of delightful tastes. Beric had dreamed of something different but at first had no direction to guide him to the path of dedication for the delicatessen until he stumbled upon a mighty artifact. Caoimhin's Crucible, an ancient and mighty skillet of giantish preportions once used by the legerndary demigod himself!

Beric had but to touch the hallowed skillet of the gods and was infused with the passion for cooking and glimpsed the wonders he could one day make. Its size and strengh also made is a formidable weapon (Maul +1). Beric found his calling at last!

He set out learning the rarest recipes he could find and accidently became an adventurer after bumping into a group of would be heroes that were severely starved of edible food. Beric discovered that adventurers often ate rastions! vile blocks of matter that would be ebtte roff burned than touching ones digestive tract. Beric swore he would do all in his power to rid the world of such barbaric food and so set off to become the greatest chef in Faerun and one day defeat the evils of disgusting and mass produced food that was slowly and silently corrupting all of civilisation.

Beric finds joy in feeding other his fine food but has been afflicted with the foul temper of his master, Roardon Gamsey  and so often finds himself enraged when others intend to prevent him from removing all cheap and nasty food from the world, for surely any that would impede his quest must be serving some darker power to stop him.

Character Name :  Krynos Kobold King of Kher Kanyon   Height     :  3"
Character Race :  Kobold                              Background :  Noble
Alignment      :  LE                                  Class      :  Sorceror (draconic)

Krynos was born a dragonwrought kobold and raised by his ancestor the gold dragon Akrisilios. Like most of his brothers and sisters they were instilled with lessons of peace kind ness yet to follow a strict code of justice. the lessons did not come easily to the kobolds that attended Akrisilios but he was their maker and master so they obeyed where they could.

Years went by in their mountain home polishing magical artifacts and hiking across the  small mountains of gold and gems that their master had collected over time. Eventually the peace was disturbed by the intrusion of visitors, a group of rock gnomes that begged their master for aid. An alliance of dwarves and and men had been encroaching on their land and destroying their homes and their people. Akrisilios was troubled by this news and ventured out in disguise returning several days later. He gifted a great magical stone that shone with opalescent splendor and gifted them a tome that would allow them to create a barrier of non-violence, to be powered by the stone.

Character Name :  Patient 37                          Height     :  5"8
Character Race :  Dhampir                             Background :  Haunted One
Alignment      :  NE                                  Class      :  Cleric (grave)

Patient 37 is a Judge for the Order of the Broken Scales, a cult dedicated to the death god Kelemvor. They seek to uphold the realm off death by ensuring that those that would violate it are eradicated and punished. They have no qualms about using vile or inhumane methods where required. Though cleansing the undead is the primary focus the order also seeks to eradicate those creatures or indivduals that were born with or attained unaturally long life. In this way the scale remains balanced in their eyes.

On occasion the order will capture monsters or unbdead specimens to test weapons or train their members against and in some very rare cases will treat those they consider innocently 'afflicted' each member of the afflicted is given a 6 digit number during treatment and those that are successfully cleansed , baptised and found worthy in Kelemvor's measured gaze are provided the title of patient folowed by their number. Kellemvors disgust for undead is known yet through the order he offer a slim chance of redmeption for thoise who were afflicted unwillingly.

37 has been with the order for several centuries and has been raised to the trusted rank of judge and sent into the world to cleanse and balance the world in service of Kelemvor through any means neccesary.

The process of transitioning from afflicted to patient has horrifically scarred physically and emotionaly. 37's porcelain flesh is a tapestry of religious scarring, tatooed scripture and long healed burns that mar what may have been considered a specimen of eerie beauty. A side effect of his darker nature is a need to feed on dreams. Though uncertain how, 37 can often  gain sustenance from creatures dreaming nearby, often leading the victims to suffer nightmares or a feeling of uncomfortableness when waking. 37 keeps himself hidden beneath his armour, robes and mask.

Character Name :  Ungrik Bloodbraid      Height     :  4"
Character Race :  Hill Dwarf             Background :  Soldier
Alignment      :  LG                      Class      :  Cleric (War)

Ungrik is a warpriest of Clanggedin Silverbeard and was born in the great dwarven city of Faazum Zin. The city itself is in fact closer to an entire dwarven kingdom with the mines being constantly converter and fortified into small fortress towns that expand downwards as more of the mining veins are full excavated. Centuriesis ago there was a single ruling clan and King. King Grakas was a poor king however and left dozens of potential heirs yet refused to marry or name an heir. upon his death the great city state disolved in decades of vying factions until it eventually descended into all out civil war with each child creating a new clan and claiming rightful ownership of the city. Lines were drawn and battles fought in the great halls and roads that served as neutral ground and the borders between each factions holds.

Evenutally supplies ran low and resources became scarce and an uneasy truce was agreed, grudges were placed on hold as 7 of the 8 clans attended a great moot to prevent the entire kingdom from falling to ruin. The discussions were presided over by the head priests of each god present. No written record was kept of the moot though some say a verbal rendition is passed down from head priests upon ascension. After the moot three guilds were established, the mining Guild, The trading Guild and the war guild. All members of the guilds were considered neutral regardless of blood or clan and served only the kingdom itself.

Those that join the guilds must leave behind all grudges and clan ties. Some join out of a sense of duty and others are elected or sent as a form of exile. Several centuries have pased and the sytem remains in place witht he guilkds balancing and maintiain the fragile economy of the kingdom as the 8 clan continue to battle for surpeemacy with the crown as their ultimate prize. When Ungrik was a youth he fought for his clans honour in battle but swiftly grew tired of the fighting and questioned the senseless slaughter of their kinfolk. Hventually renounced his clan and joined the war guilds priesthood in order to oversea the battles, heal the wounded and occasioanly wade in and break the battling dwarf who were to enrgaged ro refused to cease fighting after the battle had been won.

Ungrik tired of refereeing battle too and set off into the world to help those in need.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:24, Wed 03 Aug 2022.

Character Name :  Ilevar the Grappler   Height     :  8"
Character Race :  Bugbear               Background :  Acolyte
Alignment      :  LN                    Class      :  Fighter (Rune Knight)

Ilevar was orphaned in his mountain home when a group of adventurers delved into the dungeon that his tribe had called a home seeking treasaures and to return the dungeon to a dwarvish lord. One the the adventurers, a monk named Jarek found him hidden in a pile of rags and took pity on the babe, refusing to kill it or leave it to its fate. The monk returned to his temple and raised the child as an acolyte in the temple of the dawning serpent. Ilevar had no talent for cultivating Ki or the patience and balance of the mind required for the complexities and sublties of the temples martial arts but he was naturally gifted when it came to grapping techniques. Coupled with his immense natural strengh and long reach he became a formidable fighter in his own right though struggled to fit in with the other acolytes. He bid farewell to his father Jarek and went forth as a jouneyman to try and seek his own path, challengin any foe that crossed his path to bout of strength and taking part in wrestling comeptetions or brawls where he often found success and money to be won. it was durign these travels that he devloped a hunger to find his own limits and this eventually led him to the frozen mountains of the north. amongst the tundra he met the native goliaths and proved himself and equal in might and impressed them with his courage, strength and honour.

He travelled with the goliaths in their nomadic life style and was eventually partook of a trial of strength and succeeded. in return the goliaths taught him of the rune magic to enhance his abilities and grant him the size and strength of the giants. With his new foudn strengnth Ilevar travelled south once more and began adventuring in order to seek ever greater foes to test his mettle agaisnt and to walk the path of honour through strength and battle.

Character Name :  Three-Mountains Divided   Height     :  7"
Character Race :  Tabaxi                    Background :  Folk Hero
Alignment      :  CG                        Class      :  Barbarian (Totem) Monk

Exalted character

Daughter the Burning Jackal

father was a freedom fighter in the southern deserts who would free slaves and steal food, water and money from the slavers and merchants and spread it amongst the people. Father name was Burning Jackal of the Twilight Winds.

fighter - artificer

Artifacts
 - combo of folding ship and land ship - 5 dot artifact

 -

Character Name :  Brakdus LittleHammer      Height     :  8'0
Character Race :  Goliath                   Background :  Folk Hero
Alignment      :  LN                        Class      :  Barbarian (ancestral guardian)

- Killed the tribes leader during a dispute about slaughtering innocents. the leaders son challenged Brakdus immediately after, something frowned upon but no one spoke agaisnt the challenge.
- Son was no match for Brakdus and as the killing blow fell he was balsted back by fell magic coming from the son. Brakdus let out a roar and summoned his ancestors to battle as he charged but was cast through a portal and awakened in the dark amist a raging battle of dwarves and orcs in some deep tunnels he knew not where.
- Brakdus was struck by an Orc and in his rage turned on them as his ancestors surged forward with him. Brakdus lost himself to the battle and slaughtered dozens of orcs before his rage subsided.
- Brakus had inadvertantly saved a travelling dwarf prince and was invited to their hold to celebrate in the mithrall hall. Brakdus stayed with them for some time as they battled further Orc attacks and upon his leaving he was gifted a belt of dwarvenkind as a token of the dwarves respect and granted the title LittleHammer

Items:

Flame Tongue (Greatsword)
Belt of dwarvenkind
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:11, Fri 07 Oct 2022.

Character Name :  Pimrick Von Ribbitflop    Height     :  3'0
Character Race :  Halfling                  Background :  Clan Crafter
Alignment      :  LE                        Class      :  Fighter (Rune Knight)

Pimrick Von Ribbitflop was the fifteenth child of the Von Ribbitflop family and was sent to learn runecrafting and blacksmithing from a nearby dwarvish hold before he set out into the world witha  group of young dwarves who wished to make their fortune. Pimrick travelled far and wide and took a shine top the adventurers life, preferring to ply his trade as he travelled and unlock further secrets of runecrafting. During his travels he headed to a mountain where a fire giant dwelled and impressed the giant with his crafting skill. The giant was bound to his forge by a magical chain by his own kin as punishment for a crime forgotten in ages past.

Primrick agreed to free the giant in exchange for the old knowledge of magical rune crafting. the bargain was struck and Pimrick learned the secrets of the rune smithing. Pimrick oved across the mountaintop and broke the hidden binding runes thus freeing the giant. The Giatn gifted two items before he set off down the mountain to wreak havoc on the descendants of his captors.
- Belt of Fire Giant strength (Str 25)
- Volcanic hammer (flametongue on battlehammer)

Character Name :  Averod Kiertzmann         Height     :  3'0
Character Race :  Human (Variant)           Background :  Inquisitor
Alignment      :  LN                        Class      :  Cleric 1 (war)Fighter 8 (Samurai)

Avery is a priest inquisitor of Torm and travels the world seeking out evil doers and law breakers to exact Torms justice upon them. Avery will also sit as an arbitrater in small villages and mete out sentencing and judgment for petty issues if requested of him.

Inquisitor

Skill Proficiencies: Investigation, Religion
Tool Proficiencies: Thieves' tools, one set of artisan's tools of your choice
Equipment: A holy symbol, a set of traveler's clothes, and a pouch containing 15gp

Legal Authority
As an inquisitor of the church, you have the authority to arrest criminals. In the absence of other authorities, you are authorized to pass judgment and even carry out sentencing. If you abuse this power, however, your superiors in the church might strip it from you.

Personality traits
I try to see the bright side in the very worst situations.

Ideals
Order. The laws of Torm are meant to preserve the social order — everything in its proper place.

Bonds
My weapon is all I have to remember my beloved mentor by.

Flaws
I have come to believe that I executed an innocent person.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:36, Fri 09 Dec 2022.

level 10
2k gp
starting gear
1 rare

Cleric (Bahamut) life -
Yawning portal - pub in neverwinter
Dhani Bhada

Name: John Smith

Appearance:

Age: 26

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 5ft 10

Weight: 190lbs

Backstory: John's father was a smith of exceptional skill that travelled from town to town in the north training his art and studying with the dwarves. When John was around 5 a fever struck both him and his father. His father did not surive and John was taken in by Kroland Rocksinger, a dwarven smith based in Kugarum.

John was raised by Kroland depsite many protests from the Rocksinger family, Kroland had given his word to Johns father on his deathbed that he would raise John as his own and his honour would not allow him to break the oath. John was raised as a dwarven smith and life was difficult being an 'other' in the family but his affinity for finding rare ore in the mines and skill in the forge helped lessen the general disdain directed towards him in his later years.

At the age of 18 he set out from Kugarum and became a journeyman smith. As he was an adult Krolands oath had been fufilled and he was under immense pressure from his family to expel John. John agreed to leave and thanked Kroland. Kroland gave John a necklace with a grain  of adamantite ore, a rare and some say magical material. Eventually John found his way to Eswen. John worked where he could travelling around villages in the area and soon found himself helping in the castle forges. John soon grew fustrated with simply making weapons and armour to be handed out to brave soliders that risked their lives and so decided to sign up and place his own life on the line. He hoped that with some luck and determination he could rise through the ranks and perhaps one day gain enough notice to open his own armoury and build war machines of his own.


Magical Abilities: Earth magic:
1. Ore sense: when concentrating John can sense metal ore in earth or rock a short distance away or sense impurities in metal when touched.
2. Minor hardening/softening - John can spend an hour infusing metal or earthern/ stone structures to make them more durable or weaker. Effects are minor and only in small area from point of contact. The infusion has to be re-applied periodically or it wears off.

Weapons and armor: Leather padded armor and iron helmet along with a rucksack. Warhammer, 2 throwing hammers.

Inventory: Rucksack, smithing tools, smiths apron and goggles. grain of adamantine ore in a necklace.

Talents:
(1) Long days at the forge: John has incredible stamina and can swing his hammer tirelessly hour after hour whislt keeping a level and focused mind.
(2) Iron hands: John's skin is calloused and used to wroking with raging fires and high temperatures of the forge. He can handle incredibly hot objects with little sign of pain and is more resitant to heat and fire.
(3) Raised by Dwarves: John  has learned many of the dwarven smithing secrets and is cappable of forging dwarvish war machines and firearms if given the resources and time. He also knows the secret of making dwarven black powder but guards this carefully.He is also highly skilled in smithing.
(4) Affinity to earth magic: john has had a strong affinity to earth magic but has had little opportunity or need to puruse it outside of very minor abilities that helped with his forging.

Weaknesses:
(1) Honour bound: John has an ironclad sense of honour and will not back down from any direct challenge or break his word once given.
(2) Defender of the weak: John will not abide of smallfolk being lied to or mistreated and will fight to defend them and their rights.
(3) Straight talker: John does not use fancy words or talk around the truth. he is honest and direct even when a situation can more easily be solved with honeyed words.

Hobbies: designing or tinkering with weapons and armour, making or solving dwarven puzzles.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:34, Tue 08 Aug 2023.