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[Zebster]

Chuck

Charlton Vader'ixmusala (homebrew)

In the kingdom of Frizia (settled by Spelljammin' elves thousands of years ago) the latest king of the Vader clan raped one of his human subjects on a whim. This resulted in the birth of Charlton, known to his friends as Chuck.

Trained by a hedge mage and a local mercenary concurrently, Chuck learned to blend blade & spell and advanced (in 2e) as a Fighter/Mage. His friends cleaned out trouble spots locally, eventually drawing the attention of an evil theocracy up north. They got pulled into a Gods War, as the Goodly and Neutral avatars came down to oppose the deity of the evil theocracy (ascending in power). Under the towering avatars, Chuck & his companions led a small force of loyalists in battle agains their arch-enemies. The goodly gods won the day, but kept Chuck & co away from the world for five years. Upon return, he was able to depose his father and assume the kingship of Frizia. Now as an iconic character in the homebrew world for Frieden, Chuck has continued as a mover & shaker, losing his ancestral (artifact) sword in defense of one of his kingdom's protectorates. A powerful mage slayer has risen to oppose Chuck and is currently keeping the artifcact hidden. The companions are mounting an assault as a search & rescue when next we meet...

Chuck is a half-elf, 6' with grey eyes and brown hair. Via wish he has the ability to change shape at will (as doppleganger/changeling), so this is in a constant state of flux. He wears royal blue shirts, black boots, trousers & cloak. He fights with two longswords, or longsword and spell.

Best moments:

Level 1/1: Upon entering an evil clerics cave hide-out, the party split to face the threats coming at them. Ther cleric took on the zombie, the druid held his action, while Chuck saw the cleric casting threw his dagger into the evil cleric's shoulder (crit!). The druid immediately bounced over the table between them and grasped onto the dagger's hilt in order to end the fight in a single round.

Level 10/10: While the Gods were at war up high, Chuck buffed himself while leading his loyalists against the theocracy's warriors. Flying, hasted and stoneskin'd (2e goodness) Chuck encountered one of his arch-enemies, Garrium. Garrium was like-wise flying and protected, and an epic duel above the heads of the gods' avatars they went back and forth. Vorpal and Sharpness blades hummed, until finally Garrium's hand was lost and he fled...

Level 13/13: Facing off against the High Priest of the theocracy, the cleric and the druid companions were at one end of the hall taking their pot-shots as they could. Meanwhile, Chuck was trapped on one side of an anti-magic zone faced off against an ancient or wyrm Red Dragon. His back to the anti-magic zone, he was able to perfectly place an Evards Black Tentacles to keep the dragon in place. A few mighty spells and (2e) hasted full out attack and he single handedly killed the beast.

Level 17 (3.5): A cleric of Bane set up shop in the capital city, so disguised via change shape as a crazy old priest of Tymora, Chuck is able to locate and disintegrate the (potential) little-BBEG in a single round.


Picture ideas:

Chuck quick-drawing his two longswords - one a dark metal, the other a Githyanki Silver - with his black cloak flapping back and Parthus the pseudodragon wrapped around his neck.

 

[Arc]

Jadrek Falco

This guy is my current character in an IRC game being run by Demiurge, but damned if he isn't my favorite character I've played to date. I've had more fun roleplaying this guy than any other character in my history, and while he's not ac ombat machine, the inventiveness I've used in making him effective and entertaing makes me proud. Mechanically, he's a rogue 2/swashbuckler 3 who specializes in dual weilding daggers, and will soon start into Invisible Blade (and later, if he gets there, Master Thrower)

A public life:

Jadrek Falco stands 5'11" inches in height, a permanent slouch on his shoulders indicating that he carries a heavy weight (in more than the physical sense). Dressed in a old brown leather duster, soft leather knee boots, black trousers and a charcoal vest over a dress shirt, Jadrek's appearance is for all purposes nondescript. His few acceptances of style are a pair of metal studs in his ears, and a Silver Flame arrowhead on a chain he wears on his neck. While only 37, his short, half-kempt hair is already greying, and the permanent appearance of being 2 days behind on his shave does little to help the matter. Frown lines and heavy bags under his grey-green eyes indicate that he doesn't get much sleep, which is often rumored to be the reason for his gruff exterior. It would be hard for any to attribute Jadrek as having a "heart of gold", or any precious metal for that matter, but those who know him as more than a passing acquaintance will attest to his dry sense of humor, and a smile that, when revealed on rare occasions, is warm and open. In the City of Towers, many are inclined to forget their past, and Jadrek is certainly a member of that far from exclusive club. Though a few know that he was once a member of the Holy Army of Thrane, questions directed along that vein, or anything else related to his past, are either quickly deflected, or simply ignored.

Falco's eccentricities tend to make some doubt his abilities, but time and time again, he supports his convictions with bravery and action. On various occasions, he's jumped 60' off of a soarsled to cushion the landing of a falling child, ran to the aid of his comrades while on the verge of death (and paid the price of doing so), and risked personal dishonour and incarceration to prevent the escalation of violent conflict, and above all else, prevent the outbreak of another war.

Of particular note is his hatred of the living dead. While he views them as an abomination unto the Flame, his experiances fighting against them during the Last War and his inability (as a rogue) to damage them as they ripped his comrades apart have intensified that hatred a hundred fold. He constantly denounces the Karnnathi usage of undead soldiers and has undertaken a personal crusade against the Blood of Vol and its followers. After tracking down a glass foundry involved in the creation of lenses for the constrcution of an eldritch machine, Falco found himself facing off against a Karrnathi Zombie, with only a warforged artificer to aid him. In a fierce battle along the catwalks overlooking the massive melting vats and grinding gears, Falco and his companion found themselves in dire straits. Neither of them could manage to damage the foul creature, and Falco, faced with the worse luck he had ever encountered in his career (I jest not. Seven 1's in the fight, 3 of which were consecutive, and a streak of 12 rolls of less than 10 in a row), weaponless, and on the brink of death, grappled the zombie as his forged compatriot cut the bolts holding the catwalk aloft. Just as the final bolt was cut, Falco's streak of bad luck finally broke, and he scrambled up the falling catwalk as the zombie fell into the mess of gears below.

A private past:

Legault Ruby, Scout Specialist First Class, Holy Army of Thrane, was born on the 14th of Sypheros, 959 YK, in the Holy Kingdom of Thrane. With his parents dead in battle at the age of 12, Legault took to the streets of Flamekeep, where he learned to survive by any means necessary, even if it meant preying on the wealth of others. After only 4 years of a life of crime, Legault was aprehended by the city guard. His youth, and Thrane's shortage of skilled soldiers led the guard to give him a choice: Turn his life around and join the Holy Army of Thrane, or be put to death for his crimes. Legault chose wisely, and ended up enlisted in the army as a scout. The comradery of battle, and his fervour for religion combined to make Legault an excellent soldier, following orders to the letter, and undertaking the most dangerous of missions without a bat of an eye. While his early missions were mostly concerned with low level reconnaisance and routine counterintelligence, Legault soon found himself embarking into foreign territories with missions of death and destruction. Whether alone or with a team, Legault worked his way deep into enemy territories, assasinating high profile targets, sabotaging military equipment, or all to often, acting as an instrument of terror against an innocent populace.

After some 17 years of military service, Legault had, directly or indirectly, caused the death of several hundred souls... far too many of whom were mere innocents caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Legault's fervour had lead him to believe that their deaths were for the greater good, but as the killings escalated, he began to doubt the wisdom of his missions. On the eve before a highly secretive mission that would place him deep within the heart of Cyre to inflict as much damage as possible, Legault deserted the military. The next day is one forever known as The Mourning. While Legault never learned the fate of his comrades, nor the details of their mission, he did spend the next year and half fleeing across Thrane to Breland, avoiding both foes and former allies alike.

He arrived in Sharn a few weeks before the signing of the Treaty of Thronehold, and after hearing of the new peace, he chose to remain in the City of Towers. Legault changed his name to Jadrek Falco, took up a job enforcing peace rather making war, and tried his hardest to forget all he had done in the Last War. While still plagued by nightmares of his past, Jadrek was able to mentally block out his actions, even though he still acts nervous when around Cyran refugees and Thrane citizens and soldiers. No one has come after him yet, but he tends to keep one ear to the streets, in case he must flee authority once again.

 

[DarkSoldier]

At first glance, you might not give Kerad Dyilf more thought than any other odd loner, but if you take a closer look...

Standing 5'6", Kerad wears a trenchcoat one size too large so it stretches to mid-calf, and metal pauldrons are bolted to the coat's shoulders. He wears his dark brown hair long and loose to flow down his back. A single scar cuts down his face (like Ohara's scar from Enter the Dragon, but cleaner). He wears work boots, black jeans, and two leather straps crossing his chest from shoulders to hips. He's a decent-looking guy, but his eyes, however, draw your attention: two orbs of a most unnatural green shade, a shade that evokes the most primordial fear you've ever experienced just by looking at them.

Why does he have those eyes, you ask? Three thousand years ago, demonic forces openly roamed the world, and the gods fought them with their own armies. For a hundred years they ravaged the land with their conflict, until evil was forced to flee. However, some of their minions remained, struggling with their own internal conflicts, and convinced the forces of good to give them asylum. Their blood mingled with the mortal races, but their offspring always expressed traits of their demonic lineage. While the blood has diluted over three millennia, those traits occasionaly pop up again. Kerad is a direct descendant of these refugee warriors.

Personality
Kerad feels slighted by the world at large. He believes that he could have been something better than what he is now, if the world had just given him a chance, but it spat in his face and kicked him to the curb, and now he's going to pay it back for mistreating him.

Kerad expresses many traits associated with Avoidant Personality Disorder. He also has difficulties with long-term planning, changing allegiances whenever he perceives a benefit in doing so, without regard for what long-term benefits previous allegiances may have brought him.

Because his lover Malra Mytil is the only person who has expressed any form of interest in him as a person, Kerad does not want to do anything that would jeopardize that interest. He will cater to her every whim and do so eagerly.

Background
"Ruination follows the Son of the Black Moon."

A new moon heralded the birth of Kerad Dyilf. Within a year, he had already suffered a vicious attack by his own older brother, jealous of the attention he got. As he grew older, he suffered more; in school, it seemed that every student wanted to take a swing at him, and every teacher disliked him. One incident stands out in his mind: an older student was beating him when the school's vice-principal interrupted, demanding to know who started the fight. Kerad claimed it was unprovoked, while his opposite made up a story about catching Kerad trying to steal something from him. Unsurprisingly, he sided with Kerad's attacker, and either did not notice or did not care when he sucker punched Kerad right in front of him.

His home life was even worse: his father had become an abusive alcoholic, his older brother still tormented him daily, and his mother, who also possessed his inhuman jade green eyes, gave him precious little support between their mutual beatings. At the age of seventeen and after numerous failed suicide attempts, Kerad decided that there was only one way to escape; he took a sharp knife and slit his father's throat before escaping into the night, swearing never to return to his homeland.

Kerad barely managed to fend for himself for the next several months, in which he travelled halfway across the continent to the scrub desert town of Albard, where he promptly passed out into the sand. The next thing he knew, he was receiving care from an old man and a young girl; wizards of the desert. He barely had time to figure out where he was before word came that desert raiders were attacking.

Kerad followed them out and watched, detached, as the raiders fell onto the city, barely slowed by determined defenders. They cut down the old wizard when Kerad stopped to pick up a fallen sword, and he used the sword when the raiders went after the girl. The raiders' leader saw this and challenged Kerad. When the young man tried to attack, he was cut down, bleeding from a wound to his face. The raider laughed at his effort and turned his attention to the girl. Kerad used that mistake to drive the sword through his neck.

the next day, Kerad set out on his own into the desert, intent on crossing it alone, with nothing save the clothes on his back and the sword in his hand. Many times, he thought he would die from exposure, starvation, or thirst, but miraculously, he always found just enough sustenance to keep going. During this hellish period, Kerad came to the conclusion that some supernatural force was watching out for him, not to keep him safe, but to prolong his suffering, perhaps for its own twisted amusement. He called that force "Fate."

Perhaps with Fate guiding him, Kerad ended up on the fabled R'itni Islands. Shortly after his arrival, he was greeted by an mugger armed with a wicked knife. Kerad was fully intent on killing the mugger, until one of his strikes removed the mugger's cap, which broke an illusion and revealed that the mugger was actually an attractive half-elven female, a fledgling wizard turned brigand by the name of Malra Mytil. In her, Kerad saw a kindred spirit, a promising individual heartlessly cast out of her own society for being different.

Kerad's emerging feelings for Malra, coupled with his recklessness in defending her, landed them both in prison, in the same cell as a common street thug named Keane Kominda. Keane, like them, was different: he had the blood of demons in his veins, manifest as dark red skin, red eyes, short horns, and sharp teeth. Together, the three managed to escape to one of Keane's local boltholes, where they met Keane's loyal guard, a dark elf named named Do'kem Nupaji.

Some other power must have taken notice of Kerad, connected him with "Ruination follows the Son of the Black Moon," and sent Elizabeth to get him. Elizabeth, a seductive vampire, offered Kerad pleasures and power beyond human comprehension if he did a few tasks for her "master." Smelling a rat, Kerad initially refused the offer, but soon decided to see what it would cost him. One meeting with a titanic demon later, Kerad was infused with the ability to call upon the primal energy of the world of Boram'ith: the Macrocosm. He spent a week learning how to use the powers he had suddenly gained, and then returned to his companions with a new look and a new, unsettling and secretive, attitude.

The task he had to complete in exchange for the Macrocosm was allegedly a simple one: assassinate a troublesome wanderer identified only as "Falkyn." Kerad observed this Falkyn for a while, even hiring him to kill another individual his benefactors wonted dead, but he only succeeded in making Falkyn forswear killing. When he finally decided to confront Falkyn, he overpowered him spectacularly, but during the fight, Kerad discovered the nearly-fatal side effects to his new power: the demonic whisperings that he occasionally heard turned into full-blown demonic possession after prolonged use of the Macrocosm's energy.

His benefactors had made a slight mistake: they could not remove the ability to access the Macrocosm from Kerad, nor could they simply kill him on the spot. Moreover, he continued to resist Elizabeth's advances, even in the face of veiled threats to his companions. His incredible power did more than make Kerad potentially the most powerful being on the planet: it almost alienated his companions, something that profoundly disturbed him when Malra bluntly told him, "You scare me."

Kerad started looking for a way out of the deal, but what he was looking for came right to him when Elizabeth grabbed Malra and threatened to kill her if Kerad did not destroy Falkyn immediately. Kerad responded by declaring that Elizabeth had just nullified the terms of the deal by physically threatening his companions. The next thing she knew, Kerad appeared right in front of her, wrenched her grip from Malra, and teleported Malra and himself away.

Kerad looked down at Malra and told her he had a few loose ends to tie up, and then he'd be back. One of those loose ends involved disposing of the swords he received as a bonus: a pair of demon-bound weapons that his benefactors hoped would corrupt him to their service. Rather than submit, he took them to a volcano and threw them in. Thinking that was that, he started to leave, but the volcano erupted. Coming to the realization that he had been running from everything his entire life, Kerad stopped, turned to face the flow, and died with Malra's name on his lips.

He experienced the afterlife, where agents of the god of judgement enlightened him on how his activities affected his world, as well as informing him of Malra's unrequited love for him. When he felt the call of resurrection, he answered it, and found himself lying on a stone slab. The cleric who had brought him back, Miah Honzonoto, asked him to help her, and he agreed on the condition that he gather his friends. First, he found Malra and professed his own love for her, and then he gathered Keane and Do'kem.

Unfortunately, Elizabeth had her own plans for Kerad. She manipulated Miah into sending Keane and Do'kem to their deaths, and then killed Malra herself, using Kerad's grief to convince him to work directly for her. As they travelled, a mist separated them, and Kerad was never seen again.

 

[demiurge1138]

Once, before life got far too complicated, Jack Skellington was the third son of a wealthy merchant, a bit of a slacker, and a part-time criminal. Nothing too noticable, of course, just a little petty fraud and theft here and there. Skellington prided himself on his luck; he was never caught, despite several close calls, and survived an excursion into a grick's den when he was ten that spurred within him a love of adventure.

Then life got complicated.

Jack's father died, and revealed in the will knowledge of Jack's criminal activities. Stripped of his inheritance, Jack stole the Bone Blade, a finely crafted rapier that was supposed to go to his older brother, then used his safe-money to buy passage on an airship to Waterdeep, where he hoped to start a new life.

But the airship was boarded. And Mad Jim the Pirate Lord, who was responsible, decided that he didn't like Skellington, so he had him thrown overboard as a message to the rest of the passengers. And Skellington hit the dirt hard. Then got up.

That day, Jack learned that his family name was really more of a description of their curse than anything else. Any Skellington to die violently was doomed to roam Faerun as an intelligent skeleton until they could avenge their murder or re-died trying. Determined to do just this, Skellington turned to the life of an adventurer, in order to convince others into hunting Mad Jim.

Jack Skellington is a skeleton, of course, but he hasn't let being dead curb his style. A master showman, a bit of a fop, and a skilled swordsman, he continued for some time to make a name for himself. After his untimely demise, Jack took to wearing long-sleeves, gloves, and pants at all times, even though he doesn't seem to fit them well. Skilled with disguise, Jack managed, with a little magical aid, to create the illusion of being a living man, albeit a very skinny one with no hair and a disturbing smile.

Jack's greatest exploit was his theft of the Chaos Diamond from the cargo of the airship he and his gang of seedy and slightly monstrous cohorts managed to book passage on. Knowing that the item was only going to be used to ill ends, Jack stole the Diamond from the ship's hold, smuggled it in his ribcage, managed to escape the ship with his allies when it was grounded during a storm, and even sabotaged the bombards on the ship. When the airship's captain, realizing the theft, flew in pursuit of Skellington, the bombards that would have killed Jack exploded, destroying the ship and allowing the party to escape into the woods safely.

Sadly, Skellington never managed to avenge his own murder. He was cut down in the prime of unlife by a dark naga, who didn't take to being interuppted in its sleep. One scorching ray, and Skellington was a pile of charred bones.

Demiurge out.

 

[Tetujin]

Bruno

Quick Note: This character was played in demiurge's Prehistoric Campaign. Primary PC race was kobold, things like that. The following is the offical discription of the race of this character.

"The dinosaurian race known as the monoclones are the result of Ophidian experiments to create the perfect soldier. The experiment failed when the result displayed both free will and a good nature. Most were killed outright, but some were banished to the island of Nublar, a refuge for failed experiments, bizarre mutations and several other senient species. The average monoclon is about 7 feet tall and stout, with scaly hide, frilled head with a beak, and one long scimitar-like horn on the nose. Monoclones are vegetarians, feeding on fruit and stems. They speak Daemonic (the language of their captors), even though they are not evil. As such, they have had to invent several new words for concepts such as charity, kindness and altruism.
Charity, kindness and altruism are the concepts that drive most monoclons, and they disdain powerful rulers in favor of democracy. Monoclones are amoung the friendliest species on Gaea, but they are dangerous when riled.
Monoclons are imcredibly devout; they credity their survival to Kiiriiannai, their god. As such many of them are clerics, and they are sure to try to spread their faith to other species. They live in small cities carved from the massive trees of their tropical island, but they are careful to respect the territory of the other species that respect the island, such as ratkin and crustae. They view themselves as the protectors of the weak and the liberators of the enslaved, and have entered an alliance with the vethha in their plans for the global war for good."

Mechanical Stuff: Bruno, Race 4, (Dragon Magazine) Kensai 11, CG. Feats: Improved Sunder, Weapon Focus (Greatsword), Combat Brute, Power Attacl, Monkey Grip, Combat Expertise, Medium Armor Prof., Combat Feflexes, Improved Bull Rush, Awesome Blow. Main Equipment: Balanced +3 Gargantuan Adamantine Greatsword, +5 Coral Armor, Ring of Growth. If I would have realized it he would have put that enchantment of that Maul of the Titans (the one that deals x3 to material) on his sword. After he uses his ring of growth Bruno's sword is up to Colossal, meaning he had 20ft reach and dealt 6d6+22 damage.

Bruno was young with the ophidian experiments were old, the last monoclon born still under the whim of the ohpidians. He still endured horrible "tests", which any other person would call torture. Bruno was one of the monoclons marked to die once the experiments were concluded, but with the assistance of his brethern they attempted to fight thier way out. Bruno, still very young, grabbed the only weapon the monoclons were given to during some of the "tests" with other creatures, a large greatsword. As he was running out, barely able to lift the heavy sword, he and his brothers fought they're way out to the gates and eventually made it far enough that the ophidians lost interest in hunting them down. This band continues to fight their way to Nublar to join the other creatures who had been sent there, and hopfully gain some friends. All the time not quite full-sized Bruno learning to use the much too full-sized sword.
His sword training contined as he and the other creautures on the island defended thier home from hostile invaders. Bruno also learned some basic weaponcrafting abilities from his friends that allowed his weapon to grow with him, gaining the material from the melted down weapons and armor of hostile enemies. He also learned the process of growing the coral that surrounded the island to a specific shape for his protection.
On day a messenger came to their island, saying he spoke for a powerful dragon from the north, and was calling for great warriors to work towards ending the control of the Troglodyte Empire. Bruno had heard of this creatures, evil cowards who were familar to the practice of slavery. Bruno was more the happy to join the cause so that perhapes no one would need to endure what he had to for so many years.

Apperance: Bruno is now fully grown monoclon, a little over 7 ft tall. Very basicly, his appearance is not unlike a humanoid triceratops. His eyes are narrow and watchful of his surroundings. Since childhood he has kept the cuffs from his shackles on his ankles and wrists as a tribute to those who has escaped imprisonment and to give hope to those who have not yet. He wears ornate cage of coral as armor, he wields a 15' adamantine greatsword and always target shackles, jail walls, and other structures of imprisionment then any of the imprisoners. He would also attempt to break any manufactured weapon or shield, so that the foe would simply give up, but this was very rarely the case. If Bruno was not using his sword, then he was making use of one of his several "Bags of Boulders". He is always very suspecious when taking any order, and tries to avoid any person becoming "party leader". He will commonly ask people who have no spoken up thier opinion. If assaulting a group he would make use of his large reach to knock down entire walls of a building at a time and bringing the roof down.

Awesome Moments:
-Using "Awesome Blow" 4 times in a row in one round, juggled the Shadow Knight up the sides and over the edge of the deck of the Airship they were fighting on, causing him to fall 200+ ft to his death.
-While fighting a black dragon known as "The Blade Wurm", got a Vassel of Bahumut ally to stand on the edge of his sword and lifted him to a powerful magic item on the top of the dragon's lair, all the while dodging the dragon's bites and stings. Then once he had the item lowering the Knight on the back of the dragon's head.
-Bruno was wisdom drained and imprisioned by some Trogs, and so once his allies opened his cell he went on a near-random rampage of Gores and Bull rushes of his former Trog captures.

 

[Aeric]

Miriella Nightbreeze
Half-Elven Cleric of Paladine

Miriella is the daughter of Velanon Sulathiel, a Silvanesti elf, and Duala, a human barbarian from the Plains of Dust. Her parents met when Velanon was discovered by Duala’s tribe, unconscious and near death, three days from the Silvanesti border. Velanon was a soldier whose unit was stationed on the western border when the Dragonarmy overran their position. The elven warriors scattered to find their own ways home, but Velanon had deliriously wandered out onto the Plains. Although the plainsmen were distrustful of the elves, they had a great respect for life, and so they had taken him in and nursed him back to health. One barbarian in particular cared for Velanon and tended his wounds: a young woman named Duala, apprentice to the tribe’s wise-woman. The two came to care for one another greatly during Velanon’s recuperation, eventually becoming lovers. Despite their love, Velanon returned to Silvanesti and his duty as soon as he was well enough to travel. Shortly after Velanon’s departure, Duala discovered that she was pregnant with his child, but not before the tribe learned of the tragedy of the Dragon Orb. Velanon was never heard from again.

News of the pregnancy was not received well by the tribe, for even though the Plainsmen grudgingly tolerated the elf, the child would be both a bastard and a half-breed, seen by many as an ill omen. No man would have Duala after her pregnancy had been revealed and, fearing for her unborn child’s life, she fled for civilized lands as soon as possible. She hitched a ride with some merchants who traded with the tribe on a regular basis. The caravan took her to Black Harbor, a port town in the north where she eventually found employment assisting an elderly woman in her rug-weaving business. Miriella was born a year later, just in time for the Red Dragonarmy to conquer the area. Life continued almost normally in the small port city, despite the strict control of the Dragon Highlords and the ever-present draconians. Another two years and the city changed hands again, as the Whitestone forces drove the Dragonarmy from the area.

Miriella spent the first fifteen years of her life in Black Harbor, where her unmistakable elven features proved to be a strong contrast against the otherwise human population—and a constant source of prejudice and condemnation. Her mother fared only slightly better; even during peacetime the Plainsmen were suspected by the city-dwellers, but during the war many tribes allied or were forced into alliances with the Dragonarmy, and their raids on civilized lands were still fresh wounds in many peoples’ minds. As soon as Miri was old enough to handle the journey, her mother packed up all their things and they bid a fond farewell to the few friends they had in town. A month later, Duala and Miri found themselves in bustling Tarsis, a major headquarters for the Whitestone forces and center of the reconstruction effort. The unlikely pair quickly found acceptance in the city as two more pairs of hands to work. Miri’s life achieved some sort of normalcy in Tarsis; she still got the stares and the hushed whispers, but nowhere near as bad as in Black Harbor. After all, Qualinesti was just over the horizon to the north, and there were a fair number of elves and even a few half-elves who lived and worked in Tarsis. With her natural beauty and charisma, Miri made several friends there.

Shortly after moving to Tarsis, Miri found herself drawn to the Holy Order of the Stars, which had built a number of new temples in the city. She made the acquaintance of several priests, but felt the strongest connection with a cleric of Paladine named Trevin Farseer. Trevin, like most of the priests, had only been in the Holy Order’s service for a few years, but he was a man of strength and wisdom. After several interviews with Miri and her mother, Trevin accepted the girl as his apprentice. A year later she was ordained as a full member of the clergy, and served as an assistant to Trevin during his forays into the Plains of Dust. Despite her exile from the tribe, Duala taught her daughter everything she could about the ways of the Plainsmen, something that proved valuable during her missionary work. Miri worked alongside Trevin for several years before finally striking out on her own; she stayed active in the Tarsis area but also made frequent journeys to Qualinesti. She helped to bridge the gap between the humans and the elves reclaiming their forest home, and she also took the opportunity to learn about her elven heritage, something she never had a chance to do before. One of her most prized possessions, a pair of Elven Boots, was given to her in gratitude for her hard work.

As the weather started to change, Miri found herself spending more and more time in Qualinesti, trying to help the elves restore their forest home to its former glory. She returned to Tarsis after hearing that the Icewall Glacier was somehow moving northward towards her home. Miri began to work with a group of Solamnic Knights who were investigating the rumors of a dark knighthood based in the south. The rumors were indeed true, and Miri saw battle for the first time. It was almost the last time, for the unit she was serving with was defeated. Many of her comrades were slain, but she and a select few others were captured and taken south to the evil knights’ base of operations.

Description:

Miriella is an honest, hardworking young woman dedicated to the cause of good. She is shy and retiring around strangers, as she is all too aware of the effect her mixed heritage has on people. Once that barrier is breached, however, people find that she is a warm and pleasant person to be around, eager to please and help out whenever possible. She views her service to Paladine not as a calling or destiny of any kind, but simply the best way to do what she wants to do: protect others from suffering.

Miri was too young to remember the War of the Lance, but she is certainly familiar with the after-affects of such a war. She is dedicated to doing everything she can to ensure others do not suffer like that again, but in her heart, she wonders what one person, or even several people working together, can do to stop such an enormous thing as a war. She was inspired by stories of the Heroes of the Lance growing up, and it is through their example that she hopes to make a difference during the current crisis. She has no ambitions of becoming a Hero herself, but subconsciously she works as hard as she does so that people will accept and love her, despite her mixed heritage. It is probably the only selfish desire in her heart.

Appearance:

While only half-elven, Miri could easily be mistaken for a full-blooded elf. She is tall and willowy, although a bit more robust than the average elven woman, and has long limbs and angular facial features. Long, midnight-black hair (the only real obvious hint of human parentage) barely hides her sharply pointed ears, and her crystal blue eyes are almond-shaped. This strong evidence of her Silvanesti blood caused her quite a bit of trouble in Qualinesti, a place she thought to find acceptance beyond the small-minded prejudices of human lands. She had to work just as hard for acceptance there as she did at home. In fact, Miri has had to work hard all of her life, not just to fit in, but to survive. She had to pick up a lot of the slack left by the absence of a father, leaving her with a strong work ethic as an adult. The chaos of the post-war years only added to the danger and uncertainty of her existence.
Miriella commonly wears plate armor covered with a white tabard showing the symbol of the Platinum Dragon. Her weapon of choice is a light mace, and her large round shield also bears the symbol of Paladine on it. During these unusually cold times, Miri can usually be found wearing a hooded fur cloak made from the skin of a polar bear. She wears no helm, and keeps her hair in braids more common to her Plainsmen kin than to the civilized folk of Tarsis.

Killer Gaming Moments:
-There was an awesome roleplaying scene where our party confronted Lord Soth in his castle (we were playing in the War of Chaos campaign), and Miri tried to "turn him away from the dark side." It didn't work, of course, and we would have had to fight him, but then a chaos demon showed up and did it for us. We, in turn, fought the chaos demon, and much to everyone's surprise, triumphed.
-Another good scene was when the party had been taken prisoner in a city held by the Knights of Takhisis. We managed to escape and sneak around the city for a while, trying to figure out where to go next, when the city itself came under attack by the Chaos legion. We ended up fighting against the demons side by side with the evil knights who imprisoned us in the first place.

 

[MrFilthyIke]

Kai Lord,

What's the deadline? Shoot me an answer...email's in the sig.

 

[Aeric]

AYDIA RIEVER
FEMALE ELVEN WIZARD
CHAOTIC NEUTRAL

BACKGROUND:
A century and a half ago, an infant elven girl was given to the head of House Riever, a noble human household, by parties unknown. There were some elven communities fairly close to Riever land, perhaps a week as the crow flies, but for whatever reason Lord Trelaine decided to take it upon himself to raise the baby as his own daughter. He never divulged the details of how Aydia came into his possession, not even to his wife or children.

Aydia’s sudden and unexplained arrival to the family made it a beehive of controversy and the most popular topic of gossip. If it had been a human child, the fanfare would have died down after a couple of months, but because it was an elf, there was an added peculiarity to the situation.

As an elf, Aydia matured at a much slower rate than the humans who had adopted her, so she found herself being passed down through the generations like some kind of family heirloom. Some loved her, others hated and resented her, but all were beholden to care for her by the dictates of Lord Trelane, who made her continuing care a condition in his will. Her image was even added to the family crest. As the humans around her grew old and died at an astonishing rate, Aydia herself was profoundly affected.

At best, Aydia was treated as a valuable pet, pampered but allowed no freedom. At worst, she was a prisoner who had unwanted attention forced upon her by her last foster father until his daughter-in-law intervened and set her free. After five generations of controlling foster parents and virtually no contact with her own kind, Aydia was at a loss as to what she would do with herself. She wandered aimlessly for a time, until the money her benefactor had given her ran out. Then she began to panic. She briefly considered going back, but immediately put that thought out of her head. Instead, Aydia decided to seek out the elves she had heard so little about, who dwelt in the woods southwest of her home. With the last of her money, Aydia hired a guide to take her to the elven lands. Once she was there, she was shocked at what she saw.

The elves lived as barbarians, in simple temporary shelters built against the trees. They spoke a language she didn’t understand, and while they were able to communicate to her in Common, she had nothing for them but anger and loathing. She demanded to know why she had been abandoned and given to the humans; the elves claimed ignorance of the situation, but upon hearing her tale, they were extremely upset and spoke of killing Lord Korbin for his crimes against Aydia. Aydia stayed with the elves for a while, not wanting any more to do with the Rievers but having nowhere else to go. Fortunately for Aydia, the elves never got around to doing anything to Korbin. Aydia left the elves after a couple of years, not being able to adapt to their easy-going lifestyle. It was simply too alien to her. The elves let her go, of course, and even provided some supplies for her travels. She took what they offered and left.

For the next thirty years, Aydia wandered the countryside, farther and farther from her hated and feared human family. She renewed her interest in magic from her younger days, and sought out another mentor to teach her. None of the elves she approached could teach her fast enough and no human was willing to take on the lifetime commitment an elven apprentice represented. So she learned what she could from all of them and filled in the blanks herself. In time, she put her past behind her as best she could and moved on with her life. She even made a couple of friends in the form of fellow adventurers, and found a place that she could truly call home: the open road.

PERSONALITY:
A lifetime of neglect and abuse has left Aydia with some very deep emotional scars. She has a phobia of dark and enclosed spaces, and she doesn’t like people touching her or getting too close to her. She finds relating to other people a constant challenge, as she is naturally sullen and introverted. She does her best to keep people at arm’s length, for she is afraid of forming friendships that will end all too soon. In this regard, she finds herself on common ground with members of other long-lived races choosing to live amongst humanity; those few friends that she does have are usually elven or half-elven adventurers of some sort. Even among her friends she is withdrawn and distant, and very independent. Needless to say, she doesn’t like to talk about her past.

During the course of her adventuring career, she was killed and buried by her friends, only to be dug up and resurrected by some drow who used her as a guinea pig in an experiment to drain her of her magical talents. She was rescued a month later by her friends, who came across her accidentally. This experience only added to her emotional scars, and she now has an unhealthy fascination with death and necromancy. The only thing keeping her from becoming a necromancer is the memory of her only true friend in life, a cleric of Pelor who abhorred the undead.

APPEARANCE:
Aydia is a highly intelligent woman, and arrogantly proud of her wizardly talents, and so she dresses to fit the part. She dresses to intimidate as much as to impress, favoring black robes with silver accents and embroidery. These robes are cut to enable easy movement, revealing tight breeches and thigh-high leather boots beneath them. She recently came into possession of a Lesser Tentacle Rod courtesy of her former captors; she’s never used it in combat and likely never will, but she keeps it for show. She also has a satchel filled with her scrolls and wands, an Amulet of Natural Armor, and a leather headband with a large sapphire set into the middle of it (a Headband of Intellect). Her shoulder length hair is naturally black, but an encounter with a possessing ghost turned it permanently white. Her eyes are a piercing, crystalline blue in color. She is a beautiful but cold young woman, and is rarely if ever seen with a smile on her face. Her only true joy comes in raining death and destruction down on her enemies with the powerful magics at her disposal. She loves using area effect spells such as Fireball and Cone of Cold, and will often do so to wipe out weaker opponents when a lesser-powered spell (or the talents of her companions) would have sufficed.

KILLER GAMING MOMENT:
The party had spent a week preparing to confront a red dragon in its lair. We were so prepared, in fact, that the combat only lasted two rounds. The group had scattered throughout the room to avoid being hit by the dragon’s breath weapon, and Aydia had found herself in a side corridor. After the short battle was over, she heard the clanking of armor from around the corner. Moving to investigate, she found two of the dungeon’s ogre guards coming to check on the commotion. Aydia immediately hit them with an Iceball (energy-substituted Fireball), which they both managed to survive. She then floated lazily back to the main room of the dragon’s lair (being under the effect of a Fly spell at the time), allowing the ogres to follow her back. The two ogres came upon the scene of the red dragon lying dead on its pile of treasure and the rest of the party with barely a scratch on them. Aydia raised an eyebrow and gestured towards the dragon carcass as if to say, “do you REALLY want some of this?” Obviously, they didn’t. They took off running, only to be mowed down by our wonderfully amoral Arcane Archer.

 

[Zappo]

Lyrael, half-elf bladesinger.

----- Personal history

Lyrael was born in the woodsy domain of Tepest in the terrifying plane of Ravenloft. His mother was one of the very, very rare elves of the domain of dread, and one of the few who was accepted among the small communities of Tepest. She taught him the ways of the elves, the secrets of the music of war; in the twenty years it took for Lyrael to learn the art of mixing battle, magic and dance, he remembers she never seemed to age a single year. As it often happens in Ravenloft, her elven resistance to aging was not of use. Lyrael's mother was killed during an attack on their town, Brigdarrow, by a pack of werecreatures.

Lyrael took upon himself the role of defender which she had. He was among the best town guards of Brigdarrow, and well known in town for his equal skill in dance, song, magic and death for the horrors lurking in the woods of Tepest. Brigdarrow was flourishing, the pain for the loss of his mother was fading, and he was beginning to feel as happy as you can be in Ravenloft - when the Mists took him.

Of that journey, Lyrael remembers nothing. He, as well, as several other people which he didn't recognize, simply appeared in the forests of Tepest. None of them recalled what happened, but they all had a distinct feeling of having failed, of impending doom. In Lyrael's pocket, he had a map of a place he didn't recognize - but upon reading the name of Vecna, he was filled of terror, without knowing why. When they reached a town, Lyrael quickly discovered that he had been missing for one full year, during which Brigdarrow was attacked and destroyed by an army of undead monsters.

Astonishment turned to pain when he witnessed the devastation by himself. Pain turned to a thirst for vengeance when he led the companions to stop a powerful necromancer from turning his old friends and loves into undead monstrosities. But that was only the first step in the long way to making Tepest safe again - a journey which culminated in the defeat of the evil god and his minions. Lyrael was the only one, among those who woke up that day in the woods, to see the end of this conflict.

----- Physical description

Lyrael is of average human height and build, with shoulders-length blonde hair, light blue eyes, and the fair complexion so common in Tepest (where the sun is clouded more often than not). In fact, his figure is normal for a human, but rather robust for a half-elf - Lyrael has well-trained muscles and a surprising strength. Even though he does nothing to hide his heritage, most people in Ravenloft mistake him for a common, if a bit exotic-looking, human. Well-travelled people, as well as the rare and unlucky visitors from other planes, recognize him as a half-elf from the shape of his ears, eyes and face.

The bladesinger wears light mithral chain armor which he keeps mostly under common travel clothes, showing only mithral sleeves and the coif, hanging from his shoulders. When Lyrael wants to keep a low profile, he can easily hide the armor entirely under the clothes. The elven armor is so light that Lyrael often forgets or simply doesn't bother to remove it while sleeping, especially when travelling in dangerous zones. His only other defense is a small buckler, made from mithral as well, giving the impression of an easy target. This couldn't be farther from the truth; the bladesinger can dodge and parry like few other swordsmen and only expert fighters can even hope to touch the silvery mail, let alone his actual body.

Against serious threats, though, Lyrael dons his real armor - magic. In a matter of seconds, the bladesinger can wrap himself in enough spells to ward off or confuse any but the most powerful attackers. Against serious threats, Lyrael is a blur of fractured images, moving supernaturally fast around his foes like a whole troupe of dancers.

Lyrael's weapon of choice is the longsword; currently, he uses a lightning-enchanted weapon, claiming that he loves the zapping noise and flashes it makes when he draws it from the sheath at his left side. The half-elf has a pragmatic approach to equipment, and always carries a side weapon, should an enemy manage to disarm him. At his right side, he keeps another sheath with another long sword, not magical but made from pure adamantine.

----- Personality and notes

The nonchalant use of magic is actually a prominent feature of the half-elf, who has been trained in the arcane since birth. He uses magic to fight, but also to flavor his food, to provide entertainment, and to keep himself clean (most people wonder for days how the hell he can keep using the same clothes, sleep in armor, and still smell like roses). He has got from his mother the elven habit of becoming fascinated with something and focusing on it for inordinate amounts of time: instead of moving on to the higher levels of magic, he keeps refining his use of the common combat spells; instead of learning to use more weapons, he concentrates on the longsword. Luckily, this dedication is practically a requirement for his bladesinger profession.

Lyrael is one of the few champions of goodness in Ravenloft. He has placed himself at risk to save the ones he love, again and again, each time coming out on his feet and each time reinforced in his belief that selfless acts deserve success. The only dark side of his soul is the thirst for vengeance. Lyrael has seen all of his friends die one after the other at the hands of Vecna's minions. For revenge, he picked up the Sword of Kas even though he fully knew that he could not control it, risking the lives of everyone around him. The gamble paid off, and revenge is now complete - but what the future holds is uncertain.

Lyrael used to be pretty tolerant of odd-looking people and creatures, as long as they behaved. This has recently changed, and now the bladesinger is more inclined to kill on sight creatures that are known to be evil, or at least to do what he can to keep them away from him. Whether this will become a problem is yet to see.

----- Memorable scenes

The reason for Lyrael's recently-acquired xenophobia is recounted in this tale. His party had allowed a troll to travel with them for a while, and while the creature had a tendancy to vanish during combat, it didn't cause trouble either. This particular troll was very intelligent, and capable of casting spells; it spent most of the time polymorphed.

The creature betrayed them during an important fight. The good Lyrael insisted that the party spellcasters tried to dispel any mind-affecting enchantment that could be on the troll, but was quickly forced to accept the fact that the creature was doing this of its own will. The monster escaped, but returned just hours later to ambush them in a city.

Lyrael and two of his companions - a cleric and a wizard - found themselves in the room of an inn together with a three meters tall troll bent on killing all of them and with no easy escape. The troll grappled the wizard and killed him in a matter of seconds while the cleric desperately cast protective spells and the bladesinger tried in vain to free him. Then, the monster attacked the cleric and killed him as well, while the half-elf was hitting it as hard and fast as he could.

The rest of the battle was fought over the corpses of the two friends, in the rubble of the room (half of the ceiling and walls had collapsed by now). The bladesinger had spent every spell still in his mind. In the eyes of the troll, Lyrael was a multiplied, blurry image, almost as strong as itself, taller, and angrier. His sword rained on the monster like a shower of razor-sharp pieces from a broken stained glass window during a thunderstorm. When the troll fell, Lyrael was still untouched.

The half-elf commanded the villagers to raise a bonfire, and was about to throw its regenerating body over it, when a hag teleported in front of the flames, before the crowd. "Hand me the troll", the witch said, "or I will kill you and these people".

Alone and tired, the bladesinger was forced to comply. "But be warned, witch. If I meet this monster again, it will die". More bodies to bury, more vengeance to seek.

 

[carpedavid]

The following is actually my fiancee's recently retired character.

Laurel Sylvan Oakenblade


Laurel is the scion of the Oakenblade family, a proud wood elf clan dedicated to the defense of the natural world against the forces of darkness. At 5'4", she's tall for an elf, but she retains the lithe build of her race. Her eyes are amber, her skin the color of golden leaves, and her hair is a dark green with yellow highlights that evokes the sensation of watching light filter through the forest canopy.

As a ranger/rogue, Laurel wears leather armor that's easy to move in. She carries two blades: an ancestral longsword that blazes with fire upon command, and a short sword that has a blade permanently covered in frost.

She put her blades to good use when, one day, she and her adventuring companions were ambushed by a group of winter wolves. She and her friends fought valiantly, but as the snow-covered ground turned crimson, her friends fell one by one. Eventually, all three of her companions were lying crumpled in the snow, while she faced off against the remaining two beasts.

Every nerve in her body screamed as adrenaline coursed through her body. Her legs felt weak, and her arms were heavy, but she knew that she was the last chance that her friends had of surviving this encounter. She wiped the blood from her eyes, and charged the lead wolf. Twisting and turning, she barely managed to avoid its bloody jaws as she landed the telling blow. Then, before the wolf's lifeless body could fall under its own weight, she vaulted over the beast, propelling herself toward the remaining wolf.

With a desperation matched only by a mother protecting her children, Laurel flew through the air, her blood-spattered hair trailing behind her, as she drew back the fiery sword of her ancestors. The beast reared back to meet its opponent, blood and fangs opposing fire and steel. Laurel screamed -- forcing every ounce of remaining energy into what she knew would be her last blow. The wolf howled as it snapped at her, attempting to catch her head in its massive jaws. At the last moment, Laurel ducked her head and swung her sword blindly, eliciting a deafening crack that echoed through the frozen forest as she crushed the beast's ribs.

Both Laurel and the wolf collapsed. Laurel felt the cool kiss of snowflakes hit her face as she lay in the blood-soaked snow, and she smiled when she realized that she was the one still left alive.