Exclusive Contest! Todd Lockwood draws your character! [NO MORE ENTRIES!]

Not open for further replies.


First Post

Here's my character:

Dein Ossimun Anarias
Stats: Human | 1 th level Fighter / 5th level Rogue / 5th level Thief-Acrobat | Neutral evil

Personality: Calculating, curious and uncaring

Dein is 6'1'' with long, tangled green hair (tips of the hair are greyish white), white eyes. He's wiry and seems like he's starving even when he is eating well. His clothing consists of dark green tunic with torn sleeves, dark red vest (Vest of Escape) and chain shirt that is slowly unravelling (Kyton chain shirt). Dark green pants and soft black leather boots complete his attire. His skin is very pale and smooth, with oval-shaped face that is just about perfectly symmetric. Start contrast to his skin and eyes, his eyebrows are pitchblack and thick. As freakish as he looks, there is something weird about him that draws people to him. He is always carrying a polearm of some kind with him, he changes to different type at whim when he sees a new one in a shop. His favourite expression is smirk when something goes wrong. When he goes in combat, he dons silvery gauntlet on his right hand (+2 silver spiked gauntlet of frost). In a pinch he tosses poisoned dart or two when he faces tough opponent.


Dein Ossimun Anarias was born in low station noble family as 3rd child. Family Anarias was mostly destroyed during wartime strife that engulfed entire Greyhawk. Dein's father ran and changed his name to Ossimun and hid amongst normal folk to avoid his enemies. Thus, early in life, Dein learned the value of secrecy. Dein's father also taught Dein how to fights when he grew up. However, when he reached adolescence, he grew restless and thirsted for revenge against those who had broken their family. This hadred was carefully nurtured by his aging father. Dein left the city and became traveller. For two years he wandered here and there, drifting from place to place, seeking means for power. And then one day, he found companions to his liking. Adventurers they called themselves, reckless and greedy bunch seeking both glory and riches. So he joined and travelled with them to Sunless Citadel. Rest of the group was killed but he was experimented upon by goblins and crazy druid that we're keeping the lower portion of the old temple as their refuge. He was almost blinded by the experiments and was left rotting in old jail cell. He was rescued by other group that wandered in that accurced place. He joined them and got his revenge on the druid and the goblins. He still hates goblinoids with passion, but is capable of keeping it in check when needed.

Currently he's studying ancient spire in middle of the weird city of Ptolus, where he travelled when he heard about it's many lost secrets and weird magics. He started venetrating Vecna, Lord of Secrets, after his first adventure. He often whispers Vecna's name in short prayer when he uncovers yet another item or fact that might have been better left alone. He has also started collecting various samples of poison and studied little alchemy between adventuring, trying to alleviate his sore eyes that are still sensitive to light. At times, his eyes appearance has served him well, since he can see fine, but often people think he's blind due to his white pupils. Nobody suspects that blind beggar on streetcorner, listening to softly spoken secrets...

Last edited:

log in or register to remove this ad


First Post
Is begging, pleading, and bribing allowed? ;)

*puts on his best puppy-dog face*

Mejin and Zanatose are both great choices btw :), though I'll admit dissapointment on not seeing Sharantyr up there. I am considering writing a short (one or two page) short story on him, to better show his personality and why this character has become so fascinating to myself and everyone in our game as well.

Anyway, Kai, glad to see the thread alive again :).
Last edited:


First Post

2e Dark Sun Half-elf Psionicist

Six feet tall, black hair, dressed in tattered rags (its Dark Sun after all), piercing dark eyes.

He had a tendency to bust out Animal Affinity (Kirre) in a fight, so I'd like to see him depicted with four furry muscular arms, claws at the end, and horns protruding from his scalp. I know, I know, how many four armed half-elves with horns sticking out does one contest need, but this one has black hair.



First Post
Talinthas Shadeslayn (dragonlance character)
Male Sylvanesti elf Rogue/Shadow dancer (align TN)
Age- well over 500 years old.

Tal is a rather reclusive and quiet sort, being one of the few mortals to live through three ages of Krynn. Born approximatly 100 years before the fall of Istar and the Cataclysm, he has seen the gods leave, return, leave again, and return again. He posseses the sort of hardened cynicism that only one tired of life could manage.

He was the child of an illicit relationship between a Sylvanesti noblewoman and her Kagonesti house servant, and was abandoned near a human village on the plains to the west of the elven homelands. Tal was left in a wicker basket with but two possesions, a copper amulet bearing the rose of Majere, and a note instructing the plainsmen that found him to bob his ears and raise him as a human child.

Soon, he was found by a scout and brought back to the village, and taken to the chieftan, who handed the child to the only resident who could read the elven script in the message, the tribe's lead hunter. He took the child in, and in a ceremony attended only by the chief, swore to keep the child's heritage a secret until his death, at which time the letter would be shared to the child.

Thus did Tal grow up learning the ways of a plainsmen scout, as he was never quite as big or strong as the other boys, but much sneakier and quieter. He spent about 30 years training in the ways of the scout, but eventually it was noticed that he was much younger seeming than his contemporaries and tended to mature much slower. This talk was suppressed by the chief of the village for about 10 years, when it finally became clear that Tal looked like he could have been the child of his younger brother, who was nearing his 40th year.

At this point, Talinthas demanded to know the truth, and his adopted father, seeing no other choice in the matter, relented and shared the letter of origin. Immediatly afterwards, the venerable hunter killed himself, as per the condition set during the ceremony years past. Out of shame, Tal left his home of half a century and went wandering the world, with only the medallion to remind him of his birth parents, and his hunter's dagger, bestowed upon him when he became a full fledged member of the tribe after his right of passage ceremony.

In the course of his wanderings, he returned to Sylvanesti, only to find that his birth father had been killed at the hands of his maternal grandfather, and that his mother had been cloistered in a nunnary dedicated to austerity. Tal was turned away by his maternal family, and banished from the elven homelands as a dark elf, merely for trying to discover who he was.

It was at this time that the Gods turned their back on Krynn. Tal, having lost sight of his life, was aimlessly ambling northwards towards Istar, and saw the fiery mountain fall from the sky and annihliate the landscape. Watching the destruction of the world as he knew it completely shattered any grip on sanity that this elf had. The next 20 years were spent in a haze, as Talinthas became more and more withdrawn and desolate.

It was at this time that he began to attract the shadows. The cataclysm caused death on such a massive scale that the souls of the innocent and guilty alike could not be separated and sent to their divine abode quickly enough. Coupled with the complete withdrawl of divine presence, and the lack of final rites, these souls became the restless dead of krynn. Talinthas, with his blasted mind and empty soul, started to attract the attention of these ghosts and shadows. Some of the more aggresive spirits possesed Tal, and started him down the path of the Shadow Dancer.

The next few hundred years passed quickly, as Tal started to regain his senses and adapted to his new symbiotic relationship with these shades that hovered around him. He searched others who were similarly affected by incredibly mind altering events, and helped them to cope with their empty souls, starting a loose group of Shadow Dancers through Ansalon. Somewhere in there, he managed to get married a few times, and father a child or two.

Fast forwards to the War of the Lance. Tal, now in his 450th year or so, is a venerable old elf with massive control over the spirits and shadows that reside within him. Years of having been hunted as an evil necromancer and other such misunderstandings have left him hardened and wary of strangers. The return of the gods has not brought him the joy that it has brought to the masses, for the newly indocrinated clergy find him to be an abomination, and try to free the spirits trapped within him by any means necessary. The shadow dancers withdraw from the public light and hide from Gods and man alike.

Fast forwards another 30 years or so, to the cusp of the chaos war. With minions of chaos wreaking havoc on the realms of mortals and spirits, Tal was forced to fight for the survival of his shadow dancers, and was nearly destroyed once again by a Shadow wight, at the southern edge of the Blood sea of Istar, where 392 years before a young elf witnessed the destruction of the ancient world.

Shadow wights completely erase every living thing they touch, and force them into a state of non being, deleted from even the memories of those that knew the victims. Tal, having been buffered by the symbiotic spirts, managed to survive by shunting his shadow soul into the wight, leaving a living, but empty husk.

Once again, the retreat of the Gods was his saving grace, as the souls of the dead were completely unable to escape the mortal plane. Tal's shell, empty of all but the smallest spark of his soul, became a nexus of mystical energy. He lay there, on the beach of the Desolation, while the waters of the newly calmed blood sea threatened to take him away. There he was found by Dauroth, an Ogre Mage looking for a suitable subject to test a new magical form on. The hollow shell, coursing with just enough life and residual energy to keep functioning, was the perfect fit.

Dauroth took Tal, now known as the Shadeslayn, and proceeded to subject the elf to a ceremony granted to the ogre in a vision from his evil goddess, Takhisis. Tal's body was charged with Spiritual energy and mystic forces, and combined with scores of ghosts and spirits who were tied to the mortal plane. The newly fused shadow soul inhabited the body of the elf, and returned to a form of unlife never seen before. Talinthas Shadeslayn was faster, smarter, and stronger than the elf he had once been. Dauroth the Ogre Mage was stunned by his sucess, and immediatly took a sample of Tal's blood. Discovering that this blood held the magical properties needed to force this magical enhancement, Dauroth took it upon himself to endure the ceremony and transform into the Ogre Titan of legend. It was in the recovery time from this process that the multi spirit of the Shadeslayn decided to take initiative and escaped the prison of Dauroth's laboratory along the shores of the Blood Sea.

A struggle of wills ensued, but eventually the true soul of Talinthas asserted victory and regained command. The Shadeslayn went and recovered the remenants of his Shadow Dancers, and went into hiding, lest the Ogre Titans find him and completely drain him of his blood. His whereabouts are currently unknown, though he is thought to be in the north east part of Ansalon, biding his time and gathering souls to him.

Tal is an elf of about 5'5. The many soul drains and transfers he has endured have left him rather emaciated looking, with almost porcelin white, thinly stretched skin. However, following the ceremony by Dauroth, he has started to look a little more lively, with a fuller face and a shade darker skin. This change has been slow to come though, as his body has had five hundred years of abuse thrust upon it.

His hair is caught in a shoulder length pony tail, bound by an ornate clasp in the style of the tribe of his upbringing. However, it is notable that there are two streaks of molten silver hair that start at his eyebrows and go back to the end of his hair length.

His ears are raggedly cut at the tips, a symbol of his childhood, and his eyes, once a startling hazel/green, are now completely silver, with black irises and small red pupils. When he opens his mouth, his teeth are fanged, but as he never smiles, people hardly notice.

Around his neck is a battered coppery-green medallion impressed with the image of a Rose and Mantis, symbols of the God Majere, and only relic of Tal's birth. His clothing reflects his profession, and is black leather meant to blend in with shadows and appear completely unobtrusive from his coat to his thick hunting boots.

Around his waist are an assortment of pouches and packs, and two weapon holsters. One holds a blessed mace of disruption, granted to him by Majere during the Chaos war, and the other holding an ancient hunting knife dating to pre cataclysm tribes of the Plains of Dust.

However, these are all mundane things, for that which makes the Shadeslayn most noticable are the omnipresent shadows and spirits that dwell around him. Those who are Spiritually inclined, or dabble in Necromancy, can see that there are always shades and spirts in orbit around Tal, the way an electron orbits a nucleus. At times of trouble, Tal can gather these spirits and expel them in a damaging blast towards his enemies. Whenever the Shadeslayn walks into an area, all incorporeal undead, restless spirits, and lost souls are immediatly attracted to his presence, so this orbit is continually renewed. When normal, untalented people are around him, they get the eerie feeling that they are being watched, or feel a ghostly wind down their backs, or hear a faint whistle of haunted air. When clerics attempt to determine the presence of undead, Tal glows like a beacon to them.

For the most part though, the Shadeslayn is an elf in his 500th year of his existance, with much of that time spent in extreme pain and anguish. As such, his life view is bleak and dark, and he tends not to associate with people as much. The soul ceremonies have granted him a form of immortality, which the tired mind of Tal craves not at all. Some sages have likened it to the curse of Lord Soth, but worse, as Tal had done nothing to deserve this fate but be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

With the end of the War of Souls near, and the freeing of the trapped spirits, only time will tell what happens to the elf without a soul.

Wow, thats kinda long. But i guess i never actually came up with a complete background before. Even if i dont win the contest, i'm glad for the mental excersize. =)


Okay, one more... :D

Grenloke, the Ashen

"Okay, so I'm a wraith-like, undead entity composed entirely of ash, but does that make me a bad person?"

- Grenloke, while being rousted by some visiting paladins new to Greyhawk City...

N(G) formerly human Fighter/Rogue/etc..
Age - apparant 39, actual 116 (52 of which spent dwelling in a limbo-like state on the Plane of Ash)
Height: originally 5' 11", now 6'-ish.
Weight: originally 189 lbs, now... pretty light.

Description: If you didn't know him, you'd be reaching for your holy symbol right about now... Most of the time, Grenloke likes to appear as human as possible - a 6' well-toned man wearing dark, grey-blue breeches, soft boots with norse-like wrappings, an almost midnight blue shirt with simple gold embroidery and a pair of ornate blue and gold metallic bracers that cover most of his forearms that taper to a sharp, pointed protrusion past the elbow. However the snazzy attire does little to disguise the fact that Grenloke is comprised entirely of a slightly warm-grey colored ash. He is able to alter his color slightly to give himself more "definition" as he calls it, making his "hair" and his "eyes" darker and other features (like his teeth) lighter. His surface features seem smooth, but they are constantly swirling with numerous eddies playing along it's surface. There seems to be a constant low-to-the-ground cloud of ash that follows wherever he goes which makes dusting around the office a real pain. Grenloke's shoulder-length hair just seems to stream away from his head ending in whispy trials as he moves. He does nothing to disguise his nature, relying on his reputation and disarming charm to get him through "the little foibles of life". Barring that, he's still one of the foremost fighters of his age though he always aims to disarm and disable unless the attacker is clearly evil.

Weapons: His little "accident" on the Plane of Ash destroyed most of the items he owned at the time, but one item did survive... albeit somewhat altered. He normally carries it around as a simple ashen staff with a lot of surface irregularities which reveal a dim green misty glow. In battle, he can alter it's shape into any weapon desired, though he creates an ornate, oversized glaive-like weapon. It has the power to cleave through dimensional barriers creating temporary portals with virtually pinpoint accuracy in regards to the destination.

Brief History: Grenloke is currently the proprietor of a transplanar travel service called... well, he never really gave it a name so people just ended up calling it Grenloke's Transplanar Travel Service. He and eclectic planar staff offer Safe(ish) Planar tours, Accurate Planar Portals, Search & Rescue services (pricey), Planar Travel Advice and Workshops, and so on. His office has a number of stable portals leading to places like Sigil, the Astral, the Plane of Fire and a deceptively random (and possibly intelligent) one which is locked and barred. The latter being the portal that dumped him into a divinely powered, magically abberrant region of the Plane of Ash for over 50 years and the cause of his uncurable "condition".

Though while on the surface, Grenloke treats his undeadish state as source of endless party tricks, deep down he is very concerned. There was an incident several years ago, while on a rescue mission to save a band of adventurers trapped in the Grey Waste, which ended with a pitched battle against a pack of arcanaloths. It was a desperate fight which ended with Grenloke using a power he never consciously wanted to admit his ashen form possessed - Life Draining. It was like suddenly being alive again... even more than being alive, it was like being a god. However, seeing the horror on the arcanaloth's face and the unbridled joy of the experience... he knew then what true evil was.

So to this day he is haunted by the fear of losing control and becoming a true monster... and it is a fear he feels will one day be inevitable. However, he has taken steps to assure that if he does turn, that he will be resoundly dealt with. He has secretly paid a huge sum to powerful assassin's society called The Garrote to put him down should he turn to evil and is unable to do so himself. Only one memeber in his employ is aware of the deal and Grenloke has given her detailed information on himself, how he thinks, and tactical advice to give to the Garrote should the time come.


Last edited:


First Post
OK, I finally have my characters ready to post. Please excuse some of the repetition in background (it's unavoidable for married adventurers who were childhood sweethearts...).

Here's the first one...the first character I ever created and who I have played for the past three years.

Zorra Himar Lightshadow

Human Female Wizard 12 NG

STR 9 DEX 13 CON 16 INT 17 WIS 17 CHA 9

Background: Vaasan in heritage and Shadowdarran in nationality, Zorra is the youngest of 5 children born to a simple farm couple near the village of Imuston in northeastern Shadowdale. Her oldest brother was a member of the local militia during the Time of Troubles and never came home from a particularly nasty orc battle. Zorra did her best to take Daltik's place beside her 3 surviving brothers, helping with all the chores she could. Her parents gave her a basic but thorough education.

Zorra was just a little girl when her uncle Simon Himar, a wizard who himself had adventured across Faerun, recognized a potential for magic in her. At the age of nine she began an apprenticeship under him. The shy farm girl had a very hard time adjusting to town life and was terribly homesick, so Simon made arrangements with his friend Porthus Verunnay, a priestess at the Temple of Mielikki, for Zorra to meet Porthus's acolyte, Devin Lightshadow. The two forged a fast friendship which became something more as they grew older.

The young lovers began an adventuring career on Zorra's 17th birthday (they married several months later). Their travels brought them to Iriaebor where they became charter members of the Company of the Sunset adventuring party. They soon found themselves enemies of the Zhentarim, friends and allies of the Harpers, and heroes of the Western Heartlands. During their travels the party made the horrifying discovery that Zorra's "dead" brother was in fact a commander in the Zhentarim army and a Hunter of Herne (an evil ranger). While Daltik Himar's forces were sorely defeated by the party and their allies in the town of Parnast, he escaped and Zorra has since watched for him at every turn in the road.

The Company of the Sunset has now made their way to the Dales as they travel to the Firepeaks to meet with Gold Dwarf King Markos Silverhammer at behest of King Ashal Hammerstone, a former party member who recently reclaimed the dwarven kingdom of Hammerstone Hall with the party's help. It would appear Zorra has returned home at just the right time, as the Dales are in need of defending from the Zhents and spider-kissing drow who would threaten to overrun to the lands…and she finds herself in the difficult position of agreeing to an alliance with worshippers of Vhaeraun in order to save her homeland.

Zorra has borne to Devin identical twin daughters, Solace and Cammara. The twins are the Chosen of Mielikki. Solace has traveled through the Western Heartlands, across the Anauroch desert and into the Dales in an leather armor carrier on her mother's back, while Devin carried Cammara. After several frightening close calls on the journey to the Dales, Devin and Zorra have made the heart-wrenching decision to leave their toddler daughters in the protective arms of Zorra's parents (and under the watchful eyes of High Priestess Porthus Verunnay and Archmage Simon Himar) when they depart for the trail once again in the spring.

Zorra's signature spell is Magic Missile, the first spell beyond cantrips that she ever mastered. She can prepare the spell from memory alone and can in fact spontaneously cast it. Her first original spell is actually a more deadly version of Magic Missile, appropriately named Zorra's Magic Missile. She also has developed the ability to prepare spells without somatics. She is currently studying the ways of the spell chandler and hopes to soon master the art of scribing candles.

Physical Description: Zorra stands 6'2" and is of medium build with generous curves (especially since the birth and nursing of her daughters). While not very strong her muscles are conditioned for stamina after years of farm labor and now nearly three years of adventuring. She has jet black waist length hair, usually tied back in a ponytail, and dark blue eyes. Her skin is fair but tans lightly during the summer months. When adventuring few would guess she is powerful mage by her simple dress - a linen shirt, landshark leather jerkin, Bracers of Armor, buckskin pants, Boots of Grounding and a Cloak of Deflection. For more formal situations Zorra wears a Robe of Stars. Holy symbols of both Mystra and Mielikki hang around her neck, as well as a pretty and simple gold chain (actually a Necklace of Fireballs); she wears a blue feather in her hair that grants her the same low-light vision of a half-elf. On her right hand are a Ring of Wizardry I and a mundane silver ring set with several blue gems; on her left is a wooden wedding band carved by her husband and of a slight magical nature. She has pierced ears and usually wears gold dove-shaped earrings with ruby drops (a gift from her husband). A Brooch of Shielding is pinned to her cloak. Several pouches of spell components, healing herbs, coins and gems, etc, hang from her adventurer's belt.

She carries a magical spell-storing staff carved with a dragon's head, which can cast Light, Dancing Light, Shocking Grasp, and Lightning Bolt. Strapped to her back is an iron-shod Quarterstaff of Battle for when the party's in a tight spot. A Sling of Seeking and a +2 Light Crossbow are always within easy reach, with a mixed pouch of bullets and an assortment of bolts in a case on her belt. Strapped to her right thigh is a silvered dagger; she carries her wands of Fireball and Magic Missile on her left.

(Other notable items: Crystal Ball of True Seeing, a hooded lantern with an Everburning Candle, Gem of Seeing, scrollcase full of arcane scrolls, seven spellbooks of various sizes spread out among backpack, saddlebags, wizard's bag, etc, scryer's kit.)

Ever at her side (and often sitting on her shoulder) is her familiar, a charcoal gray tressym named George. She also has a light gray Cormyrian mastiff guard dog named Gustav, who she raised and trained from a pup. Zorra is 19 years old.

Personality: Zorra is extremely shy and reserved, rarely speaking until spoken to, which is misinterpreted by some as snootiness. She is always quiet and polite, almost to the point of being terse, in formal situations. The hustle and bustle of a large city still (and likely always will) intimidate her. Some would assume one so meek wouldn't make much of an adventuring wizard. But Zorra is a fierce and confident battle mage, drawing strength from her strong connection to the Weave. Many a foe has been caught by surprise when the quiet woman "hiding" behind the archers and fighters unleashes a fireball. Her height - which she carries proudly - also tends to intimidate her enemies.

When among those she holds near and dear to her heart, Zorra is very warm and friendly, even talkative. She always enjoys talking to another wizard and sharing adventures. Her husband and daughters are the shining lights of her life and she looks forward to the days of domesticity in her future when her work on the road is done. Zorra has a deep appreciation for good food (especially sweets) and good wine or cider. She loves the study of magic and has already created several new spells, but is just as happy being outside tending to an herb garden. She is skilled with the healing powers of herbs, and is also a talented seamstress and chandler.
Last edited:


First Post
And my second character...who started out as a NPC in the same campaign as Zorra, but became a PC under my control about a year and a half to two years ago.

Devin Lightshadow

Half Gold Elf Male Cleric of Mielikki 9/Ranger 4 NG

STR 19 DEX 16 CON 17 INT 10 WIS 21 CHA 14

Background: Devin was the third child born to a gold elf mother and a human father (who, though Devin does not know this, was a Barbarian of the Ride with a bit of wood elf blood). His childhood was shattered during the Time of Troubles when a raiding Zhentarim force on Shadowdale killed his parents, brother and sister as they tried to defend their forest home. After three long weeks alone in his family's cabin in the forests northwest of Shadowdale Town (the events of that time, Devin has blocked from his memory) Devin was rescued by Porthus Verunnay, a priestess of Mielikki from Imuston in northeastern Shadowdale. Porthus took Devin back to her temple and raised him as her own.

Devin knows little of his family history. He does know that his mother was raised near the High Dale, met his father at The Dancing Place, and was disowned by her entire elven community for marrying the human. The pain of being so shunned affected her deeply, and she spoke nothing of the elves to her children, and never again uttered a single word of the Elvish language. (And despite several years of adventuring with other elves and half-elves, Devin still has virtually no understanding of the tongue.) He knows even less of his father's past.

Porthus trained Devin in the ways of the ranger to supplement his divine studies. Devin had had very little in the way of an education before he came to the temple, and his lessons were always hard for him, so he welcomed the easy hands-on learning of ranger training. When Devin was 12 years old he met Zorra Himar, who was apprenticing with her uncle, the town wizard. The two forged a fast friendship which became something more as they grew older.

Devin was granted his first divine spells during his 17th year, and around the same time came to the realization that Zorra was the woman he would spend all of his days with. But he decided to wait to propose marriage until they were a little older and had something to live on besides love.

The young lovers began an adventuring career on Zorra's 17th birthday (they married several months later). Their travels brought them to Iriaebor where they became charter members of the Company of the Sunset adventuring party. They soon found themselves enemies of the Zhentarim, friends and allies of the Harpers, and heroes of the Western Heartlands. The discovery of the true fate of Zorra's brother - a Hunter of Herne within the Zhentarim ranks - has left Devin with an ache in his heart. The Zhentarim are his avowed enemy, and followers of Herne are enemies of the Lady…but if the chance comes, he wonders if he will have the emotional strength to take down his wife's brother.

The Lady of Silverymoon herself asked Devin to join the Harpers, much to his surprise. A friend and High Harper, Ali Huzzah, now travels with the party, and Devin can't help but wonder if part of reason Ali has temporarily joined the party is to keep an eye on him.

The Company of the Sunset has now made their way to the Dales as they travel to the Firepeaks to meet with Gold Dwarf King Markos Silverhammer at behest of King Ashal Hammerstone, a former party member who recently reclaimed the dwarven kingdom of Hammerstone Hall with the party's help. It would appear Devin has returned home at just the right time, as the Dales are in need of defending from the Zhents and spider-kissing drow who would threaten to overrun to the lands…and he finds himself in the difficult position of agreeing to an alliance with worshippers of Vhaeraun in order to save his homeland.

Devin has built three shrines to Mielikki in the Western Heartlands, and restored two that were battle-ravaged to their rightful glory. Under his tutelage two rangers turned to the priesthood. Along the adventuring trail, the Lady of the Forest came to Devin in a dream and decreed that he and Zorra would conceive her Chosen. Nine months later Zorra bore him twin daughters, Solace and Cammara. Cammara has traveled through the Western Heartlands, across the Anauroch desert and into the Dales in an leather armor carrier on her father's back, while Zorra carried Solace. After several frightening close calls on the journey to the Dales, Devin and Zorra have made the heart-wrenching decision to leave their toddler daughters in the protective arms of Zorra's parents (and under the watchful eyes of High Priestess Porthus Verunnay and Archmage Simon Himar) when they depart for the trail once again in the spring.

Physical Description: Devin is unusually large for a half-elf, obviously taking after his human father. He stands 6'6" tall and is 235 lb. of solid lean muscle. His elven heritage is evident, though, in his distinctive elvish facial features (and ears as pointed as any full-blooded elf), golden tanned skin, and green eyes flecked with gold. His hair is a bright golden blond, worn shoulder length, with a braid near each ear. During the winter he grows a sparse beard. His typical adventuring dress is magical leather scale armor with the holy symbol of Mielikki tooled onto the breastplate, Gauntlets of Ogre Power, a Cloak of Deflection, Boots of Elvenkind, and a woodsman's cap. (He owns clerical vestments for formal occasions.) His left ear is pierced with a platinum hoop. On his left hand is a gold wedding band etched with leaves (and of slight magical nature), on his right is a Ring of Protection. He wears a Periapt of Wisdom about his neck along with a silver holy symbol of Mielikki. (Also in his possession is a Torc of Animal Speech, which he trades for the Periapt when needed.) After several months of keeping it hidden, Devin now proudly and openly wears a Lesser Harper Pin on his cloak. Several pouches hang from his belt, holding healing herbs, assorted potions and holy water, and his pipe and pipeweed (which he rarely smokes outside of the winter months).

Ever present in his left hand is Daervon's Revenge, a magical composite longbow Devin crafted himself and named after his murdered father. The bow has a unicorn's head carved at each end and the handhold is detailed with roses and ivy. Mielikki blessed the bow with several magical powers, and it is especially deadly against Zhentarim. He wears a magical buckler shield. His primary melee weapons are the longsword Black Dragon Bane and a +2 Flaming Dire Flail which has not yet earned a name. A +1 Dagger is strapped to his right thigh, and a Wand of Neutralize Poison to his left. He has several quivers with an assortment of magical and mundane arrows.

(Other notable items: Decanter of Endless Water, Bag of Holding, censer and aspergil, scrollcase full of divine scrolls, Arrow of Greater Slaying - Iron Golem.)

Devin has two animal followers, a red tiger named Giselle and an Elven Cat (Cathshee) named Cheshire. He also has a very deep bond with his riding mare, Ashes (for whom he has purchased Horseshoes of Speed), and his companions often refer to him as "The Horse Whisperer". He is 22 years old.

Personality: A reluctant leader who prefers the roles of party scout and healer, Devin nonetheless realizes that his companions look to his wisdom for answers and he does his best to live up to their expectations. He takes seriously and approaches with enthusiasm his place in the clergy of Mielikki, as well as his new rank among Those Who Harp. He is a deadly foe in battle, especially against the Zhentarim, whom he has vowed vengeance upon for the tragedy and heartache they have brought to his family and Zorra's. His wife and daughters are the greatest loves of his life and he does not hesitate to put his own life in danger to protect them.

Wise beyond his years, Devin is friendly and charming. He is often quiet in conversation, preferring to listen than to participate. Though he has ever struggled with traditional book learning, he does enjoy reading and is well-versed in many topics through experience. He finds the wonders and opportunities of a city interesting and even fun at times, but greatly prefers the wild open of the trail. He enjoys good food and good drink, but neither to excess. He is a skilled bowyer/fletcher, and is a talented woodcarver - a connection to his late father, who was a woodworker by trade.
Last edited:


First Post
1 post, 3 entries — COMMENTS WELCOME!!

The Rootcrow Theatre Company is composed of three core members: Luthanel, Brisemur and Élisandre. They travel together in a worn-out wagon pulled by two donkeys, to display their talents from villages to towns, from towns to cities, and sometimes on the side of busy roads.


Luth and Brisemur are orphans — an all-too-common occurrence among adventurers, and even more among half-breds. Neither knows but rumors about his parents. Luthanel received his name from the hooker who raised him to replace and support her in her old age. Since, as a half-elf, he was aging quite slower than the woman, he was still a kid when he decided it was time for him to depart. With not so much as a good-bye, the ungrateful brat left when everyone else slept, in the middle of the day.

He did not stop before reaching the next town. As it happened, it was a city of some wealth, for a share of which Luth began to beg. Being a cute child, with a cute smile, and still rather clean, he proved successful enough to buy his first meal. Soon thereafter, two delegates of the local guild of beggars came to “invite” him to their headquarters, where he was slapped back to consciousness.

With a whorehouse for home, Luth had spent his nights wandering the streets so his mother and many aunts could work. He knew the rule out there: wherever an underworld “guild” exists, even just begging without its benediction is a no-no. Of course, he also knew enough not to brag about his being street-savvy. He pled ignorance. He started to weave an incredible tale regarding his rich father and mean stepmother, that kept the whole audience quiet until he was out of breath, and maybe half out of ideas.

The first reaction, after a pause, was a huge laugh, coming from the middle-aged man sat beside the guildmaster. This laugh was followed by many others, merging into a thunderous roar. When the last wave quieted down, Luth could not decide if he was alive or not. But he was, and soon a bard’s apprentice for the middle-aged man.

It is in the course of those years of learning that Luth met Brisemur. One night, hearing a commotion, his natural curiosity drove him close enough to witness a group of street toughs trampling on a form on the ground, shouting “half-bred” and “bastard” the whole time. He reacted as if the insults had been directed to him: he leapt out of the shadows right into the fray, first punching two surprised bullies away from their prey, soon being punched in turn, then kicked when he fell down.

The next surprise came from the first victim. While Brisemur had let the thugs waste their shoes on his tough hide, he could not agree with their hurting someone who had come to his rescue. He stood up. He was awfully tall. He was awfully big. At first, the bullies sníggered nervously, then they tried to resume their beating and they met with a wall. They met with a wall with fists, who answered back, pummeling them into a headlong flight. In an instant, Brisemur alone was standing, Luth half-conscious behind him.

Brisemur took care of the half-elf, carrying him back to his abode: a temple he had dedicated to the god who had helped him – a half-orc in a human city – to survive all those years. Brisemur was a self-proclaimed cleric of Olidammara, whose converts were mainly street urchins whom he protected, and sometimes healed through non-magical means. What skills he had, he had learnt from other social rejects, members of this “guild of beggars” also known as a guild of thieves.

Even then, never had he been really accepted, and that too linked him to Luth. If few people had the knowledge to recognize a half-drow in the bard’s apprentice, his appearance was alien enough to elicit suspicion in most parts of the city, even among its outcasts. Being naturally charming and witty, the kid had soon learnt to compensate and gather people around him, yet until Brisemur, he had never trusted anyone but his mentor; until Brisemur, he had never had a friend.

With his mentor gone on some adventure, Luth decided it was also time for him to leave the city. Brisemur left with his friend like it was the most natural thing in the world. They gathered their meager possessions one morning and departed. They became wandering entertainers, Luth with his wits and Brisemur his strength. With some practice, they also became acceptable comedians, rehearsing new roles while walking between towns and villages. When it would not feed them, they also accepted odd jobs; they became “adventurers” and, in the eyes of some, heroes.

Still, for most people, the half-breds were better kept at a distance. While Brisemur lacked in social graces, Luth’s exotic charm made him the fear of fathers everywhere. The pair happily kept on the move, now more comfortably as a wagon had been the reward of their oddest job to date. Only once did they part, and then not for very long: Luth had learnt that elves lived in a nearby forest and, always curious about his non-human legacy, he had set his mind on paying them a visit.

Brisemur did not like the idea; he did not like elves, or rather, he knew all too well that elves liked him even less than did humans. They decided to meet two weeks later: Brisemur would wait in the wagon, letting his friend pursue on foot.

To pretend that Luth received a warm welcome would be an exaggeration, but the elves finally let him stay one night among them. He was housed by their ruling family, sun elves whose grace and knowledge the half-bred could not but admire. Still, he began to feel that what kindness he was shown was painfully close to pity, a sting he could not stand. At dawn, he had already left, with due thanks to his hosts.

On his way back to the edge of the forest, he became aware of being watched. At first, it did not surprise him. Only when the stalker followed him in the open did he feel it was odd. When he turned around and discovered who had been in his steps, he thought he was seeing his death. The young daughter of the family who had welcomed him was standing there, her hand on the last tree, looking at him questioningly.

Abduction. He was going to serve as practice target for elven arrows. Could he run away? As if reading his mind, she had already taken a step toward him. Controlling his first impulse to back up, he let the maiden get closer. The archers would not dare shooting if there was a risk of hurting her. Would they? She was facing him now and explaining how his tales had moved her, how much she wished to discover the world. When he mentioned her parents, she claimed they had no right to restrain her, that she was of age and free, as any elf should be free to choose their own path.

Yeah, sure. Luth bowed, smiled and agreed. He invited her to follow him to his wagon, where his companion was waiting. She hurried by his side. The half-elf called for Brisemur, who slowly extracted himself from the wagon. The elven maiden missed a heartbeat, her eyes suddenly wide open. Then she passed Luth and, curtseying in front of his friend, presented herself: “I have for name Élisandre, and it is my pleasure to meet you.”

Luth made a bet with Brisemur that their princess would leave within a month, or would beg to be brought back to her parents. One month later, the half-orc was ten silvers richer. The whole little troupe was more in funds, though, as the exquisite Élisandre added to its luster. And she had more to offer.

She had felt estranged all her life because magic, which was a subject of study for her kind, was for her a natural talent… that she did not control all that well. Luth found a way for her to gain this control, when he suggested that she copied the wizards in her family, using the same gestures and material components. The weird part is when Luth found that he could, also going through the same motions and using the same props, cast spells too.

What she was to magic, he was to acting: they both had a Gift. As for Brisemur, he had been blessed in another way: one day, after a nasty battle that had left Élisandre bleeding on the ground, unconscious, the half-orc had thrown a tantrum, calling to Olidammara and even insulting the god, until this one answered and made a miracle, curing the elven maiden completely.

In a glow of holy light, and the echo of a laugher, the small troupe had been granted a cleric.



CG half-elf, bard 1. Str 12 Dex 14 Con 14 Int 16 Wis 8 Cha 15. Feat: Improved Initiative. Skills: Bluff 4 (6), Concentration 4 (6), Diplomacy 4 (8), Disguise 4 (6), Gather Information 4 (8), Listen 4 (3), Perform: staging 4 (6), Sense Motive 4 (3), Tumble 4 (6). Spells: 0- Detect Magic, Mage Hand, Prestidigitation, Read Magic.

Luth walks the world with the grace of a dancer, with the sparkling fluidity of a cat. His almond-shaped eyes light a dark blue fire under a bush of white hair, dense and soft as fur, while his feline smile is made even more dazzling from the swarthiness of his beardless skin. Naked, his long limbs and leanness make him look taller than he really is; of course, most people never see him but in costumes or in his traveler’s outfit: a patchwork of materials gathered during his wanderings, nearly a wearable logbook.

In his mid-twenties, Luth still comes across as a teenager playing the part of an adult. He exudes self-confidence; his ready smiles and exotic looks never cease to intrigue the fair sex. Still, in spite of his treating the ladies with what many call undue familiarity, he stays inexperienced. Only Brisemur, who knows about his friend having been raised in a whorehouse (from a time they brought some money to Luth’s foster mother), has an inkling of how the half-elf feels in the presence of women: while he treasures their company, he is wary of those who show too much interest in him, and even more of the few he finds himself attracted to.

In spite of that, he seems unable not to be charming, a talent that saved his life a tad more often that it got him into trouble. He is especially fascinating when spinning out tall tales, which he often acts out with his comrades. Should you believe Brisemur and Élisandre, his talent for staging is such as to border to magic, expanding beyond the boards even to the battlefield.


CG elf, sorcerer 1. Str 6 Dex 15 Con 11 Int 12 Wis 10 Cha 18. Feat: Skill Focus (Craft: illusions). Skills: Bluff 1 (5), Concentration 4 (4), Craft: illusions 4 (8), Knowledge: arcana 1 (2), Spellcraft 2 (3). Spells: 0- Detect Magic, Flare, Mage Hand, Prestidigitation, Read Magic. 1- Mage Armor, Magic Missile, Shield, Silent Image.

A smile of Élisandre’s is like the break of dawn, like a flower opening after the rain. Supple as a reed, and just as frail, she is never happier than when she can share her love for life. Though many have felt love for her, for this unsettling mixture of childlike enthusiasm and long life, she has never answered sigh for sigh. She looks everyone straight in the eyes, with a disarming frankness.

Only the wind is her avowed lover, when it makes a banner of her pale golden hair. When it kisses her brow, she drinks it into her violet eyes and it seems that the whole world is suddenly brighter. Élisandre likes to wear clothes that flow easily; she favors colors you can find in a natural environment, with a predilection for the lighter hues.

Is she still a child? She may look even younger than Luth but Élisandre has matured quite a bit since she joined the half-elf and his half-orc friend. Though barely past her first century, she has seen more of the world than any of her older cousins. She has begun using Silent Image to express her feelings artistically, and as she gains experience – and access to better Illusion spells – her talent may outgrow the little troupe.

In the meantime, she is a vital part of it. She even christened the company, from the picture of a crow holding a root in its claws, on the side of their wagon. She also found this one to be magical, but she still lacks the ability to pierce its secrets.


CG half-orc, cleric 1. Str 19 Dex 10 Con 16 Int 7 Wis 15 Cha 8. Feat: Martial Weapon Proficiency (greatsword). Skills: Bluff 1 (0), Concentration 1 (4), Heal 1 (3), Knowledge: religion 1 (-1). Domains: Luck, Trickery.

While younger than his two comrades, Brisemur looks the oldest and also acts the part. If he seems sullen, it is only that, aware of being a lousy speaker, he prefers to listen and ponder. He knows enough to welcome the many pleasures of life, if seldom the same as Élisandre. Still, does he have feelings for the elven maiden? Luth has sometimes thought so, but for once his intuition failed him: Brisemur sees Élisandre as a flower to be preserved, maybe as a younger sister. For lovers, he prefers women who will not break in his arms. Contrary to Luth, he gets his share of sexual bliss — with the occasional bold lady, less afraid of his looks than attracted to his muscles or more subtle qualities.

Brisemur is big: big hands, big arms, big chest, and a big big heart beating under his tough hide. You will always find him siding with the underdogs, with a religious devotion he ties to the “laughing rogue”: before even Luth and Élisandre, for whom he would lay his life, he has Olidammara as his best friend, if an unreliable one.

The god’s weapon of choice is the rapier; when the half-orc proved unable to wield effectively the puny weapon, he picked up a greatsword instead and named it “Rapier”. For lack of better, he currently wears as armor the hides of beasts that proved stupid enough to prey on him. His overall look is more that of a barbarian warrior than of a cleric, but his god himself being deceptive, the fact does not bother Brisemur.

Last edited:

Kai Lord

Well, I've chosen my 20 favorites. Whew! But have no fear, the contest will be open to submissions until August 1st. That's when I'm sending the 20 to Todd of which he will choose his favorite 10. Any new entries between now and then will be judged against the 20 I've already chosen.

As promised, I am posting two additional semifinalists, guaranteed to be in the top 20, regardless of what new entries arrive. So in actuality all new entries will be judged against the 16 I've chosen but am keeping secret.

The next two characters locked into the semifinals are:

Arianna Flamelocks


Lord Ardel Varn


Congratulations! Todd will be reading these two characters! There are so many great entries, I can't wait to see who wins. In roughly 30 days I send the semifinalists to Todd! On August 26th the 10 he chooses will be posted in this forum and a poll will be open for three days for you all to pick your favorite. That day draws ever closer! Good luck!


First Post
Just to be sure...

The fact that I had three entries in one post didn't play against me, did it? Each character has a separate description, even if they share a same backstory (since they're from a same party).

Luth, Élisandre and Brisemur compete separately: I remember the "only one character per entry" rule and didn't mean for the three of them to get into the fray as a group. I can cut my post into three, if it makes it clearer.


First Post
this is so exciting! =)

Lockwood is my fave fantasy artist. I met him at gencon and had him sketch raistlin for me. it rocks =)


First Post

Hecabus (aka El'rohir)

Formal Title
El’rohir of the Clan Tanaka, Epic Lord of Hellfire & the 7th Ring, Slayer of 1,000,000 Vampires, The Prince of Happy Darkness, Follower and High Priest of the One Untrue God, Weasel God, Death Reincarnate, Strifebringer, Trickster, Duke of the Rising Sun, Keeper of the East Gate, Hero of the Gnoll Uprising, Wishburner, Firebrand, Defender of the Realm, Scion of Justice, Chaosmarque, Chief Executioner of the King, Wyrm Destroyer, Alien Gouger, Liebearer, Tamer of Giants, Honorary Jester of the Realm, Royal Pain & Foot Stomper of Opposition

30th level (Fighter 4/ Sorcerer 12 / Chosen of Loki 1/ Arcane Devotee 5 / Archmage 3 / Eldritch Master 5)
Race: Vampiric Ogre Magi (not my fault, I inherited the character)
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral (but borders on Chaotic Good)

Hecabus stands 10’8” tall and 673 lbs., which is large even for an Ogre magi, and is only 124 years old (23 for eternity). His light green skin contrast sharply with his long dark blue hair and the small ebony horns that protrude from his forehead. His eyes are a deep blood red with strikingly white pupils with a childlike sparkle to them, his double-fanged teeth and claws are jet black. Hecabus does not look as feral, wart-covered or unkempt as a normal Ogre Magi even in his natural form. As natural shapeshifters, Ogre Magi look as they truly believe they should, but presumably due to his elvish upbringing and the inherent vanity that entails, Hecabus natural form is very elegant and attractive.

Hecabus favors loose, comfortable clothing, rarely wearing armour any more. He and is especially fond of very well made silk clothing cut in the latest oriental styles. Disarmingly, no matter what is going on his clothes are always pristinely clean. He is also fond of oriental weaponry and is usually armed with a Katana and dagger or a Naginata.

Hecabus has a Huge War Bat as a familiar (was a regular bat, but due to an epic level fight in a wild magic zone, he was permanently changed). Desmo is a cute looking bat.....that just happens to be big enough for Hecabus to right. He has a magic necklace and ring that allow him to live inside of a bag of holding when not needed.

Hecabus is the consummate trickster, and therefore a very devout follower of Loki, well as devout as followers of Loki get. He very rarely takes anything but the village and his “family” seriously and is almost always sarcastic. On the few occasions that he is not being sarcastic he is probably being cynical, sardonic or just flat out lying.

His sense of humor as only gotten wilder since he found out his true heritage and realized that his entire life has been a lie and his time spent in the Abyss has certainly made his pranks more elaborate. It is not uncommon to find Hecabus mocking his companions, demanding to be called by one of his many aliases, creating illusions of imagined dangers and talking to his weapons as if they were sentient.

The natural abilities of an Ogre Magi and those of a vampire work very well for tricking people, and more importantly protecting oneself when confronted by the subject of a joke, and Hecabus knows it.

Hecabus personality is split, much like the duality in his past. Although people are scared of his Ogre Magi form, most people have found Hecabus to be a caring and inspirational leader of a new religious movement with a wonderful sense of humor. Conversely, in his more acceptable elven form (he still uses the name of El’rohir for this form) is feared as the deadly enforcer that helped put a king on the throne and is often rumored to be the real power (which is not true, King Kain is much more powerful). The fact that he is a vampire is generally unknown and certainly his true generation is unknown.

Hecabus is extremely loyal to his followers, friends and the village in which he was raised, but will turn on any who betrays him or is in his way very quickly.

El’rohir was raised by elves, when his parents where slain in battle. His new parents enspelled him to look like a elf. El’rohir knew he was different as he was bigger than the other kids in his village and he grew faster and stronger every year. Near his 20th birthday, the village elders tasked him and a group of the most powerful children to investigate a series of dire portents. As he started adventuring, more of his racial powers started to show. He soon learned that he could regenerate, fly, turn gaseous and create darkness at will.....it was obvious that he was some weird vampire highbred. Not much later, a vampire asked if he would like to join his clan and he readily agreed. After his rebirth, El’rohir was told that he was actually an Ogre Magi and that his entire previous life had been a lie. Angry, he turned away from his village and friends, deciding to help the fledgling General Kain set up a new kingdom.

After a year or so, El’rohir came to grips with his former life and decided to rejoin the group from the village. The newly crowned King Kain asked El’rohir to complete one last mission which he accepted. This mission went horribly wrong, leaving El’rohir stranded in the Abyss, possessed by an imp. Months later, after freeing himself from the possession and killing the demons that tried to subjugate him. With no way back from the Abyss the creature now known as Hecabus continued to adventure, bringing his own form of justice and chaos, until he heard a voice he had not heard in several years. The voice was one of the members of the group he had left the village with. Shalington, the monkish mage had tried summoning a impish familiar, instead his summons was answered by Hecabus in the form of an imp.

This charade lasted for weeks as Hecabus teased, tormented and tricked his friends. Pulling unbelievable pranks and confusing his childhood friends. This cumulated with the “imp” out-drinking and out-gambling the hill giant chieftan, stripping the queen and humiliating the fire giant advisor. Naturally, the band of adventurers had to run as the hill giants attacked. After enduring hours of griping at the hands of his “master” and the remaining party-members that hadn’t been captured, Hecabus boldly told the group that he would singly handedly save the party members and destroy the giants, which he did. Unfortunately, this display of sheer power clued the party into Hecabus’ former identity and his ruse was over.

During his new travels, Hecabus heard of a little known trickster god named Loki. The more Hecabus researched the more he began to follow the tenets of Loki, eventually the party (ok, Hecabus and Crowe the halfling Loremaster carrying the burned and charred remains of the rest of the party) stumbled onto a portal to Asgard and Hecabus used this opportunity to try and meet Loki. Although, he did not gain a direct audience with Loki, his persistence, power, ability to trick the god’s staff and lyrical poetry (written in his own blood on his own skin) impressed the god. Loki burned his mark into Hecabus arm so that he could watch his growth.

Since being marked by his god, Hecabus has steadily acquired more power and pained beings with his wit. He has captured one tower and helped build a tower with his companions, he has single handedly taken control of an onclave of Fire Giants, destroyed a drowish invasion started by Lloth and a drowish temple, established a large city of sentient ferrets that worship him, grown the church of Loki considerably, destroyed an economy and rebuilt it in a week and more. His biggest moment was destroying all other vampires on the planet and sending himself into torpor in order to stop the drow backed vampire invasion of the planet. This act not only saved the planet but led to the events that has allowed him to become a demi god. Upon his the recovery of his body from underneath a destroyed mansion where he sacrificed himself, his body was interred at the site of the first church he built to Loki. People from all over have made a pilgrimage to his tomb, a crystal casket with special censors, where people could give an offering of their blood so Hecabus can live again.


Used a dead face hugger (yes from the movie Alien) to convince the party that the 3 characters had been infected by chest bursters, resulting in the monk and cleric taking turns swallowing poison to try and kill the creature and the fighter letting the druid knock him out and operate on him. No anesthia, no skill, no alien. It was great. Unfortunately, the DM let the guys off the hook before I got really mean!
Killed 1,000,000 vampires in one round.
Became a Demigod seeking true god-hood.
Bluffed a CR 43 Red Dragon 6 times before helping to slay the beast (was 30th level at the time and kept winning the contested rolls..... “Portal maintenance”).
Created a race of sentient and intelligent Ferrets (aka Thunder Rats).
Tricked the rich people of a major city to gamble away all their money and then gave the money (some 100,000 gp to the poor of the city).
Opened several part illusionary brothels (no diseases and no labor) and gambling halls in Loki’s name.
Angered Lloth several times and walked away from it.
Conquered a Fire Giant city in less than 24 hours.

Campaign Notes
The campaign started in 2ed and has run about 8 of the last 10 years. I took over the character when he was in the Abyss, I really thought at first that I was going to be playing this guys familiar until the DM handed me the character sheet and told me what character I really had. The Ogre Magi part of the character was a DM hose on the original player, who was not told until he became a vampire. This character is a horrible munchkin character as the DM didn’t make me pay the levels for his race or the vampire template because he didn’t think it was fair.

The campaign includes a large part of White Wolf’s World of Darkness (Vampire clans, werewolves, etc.) and creatures from movies such Predator and Aliens. Although it may sound a bit silly, the game was very straight laced before I started meddling.

Known Alias
Anagogic, Bucky, Bloahar, Camm, Captain Flambea, Celerslahan, Charizesthai, Count Orlok, Dauthi, Desmodon T’dae, Deyja, Elaia Branca, Erythos Ops, Faerfyr, Fangzand, Garchaion, Gebrunkel, Gomabathys, Impian, Konoskalt, Locian Regula, Marskilen, Max Schreck, Mustela, Nonothian, Novidere, Nutbasher, Pimp Daddy Tricky, Praylean, Priest Chance DeLuc, Professor Feign, Pyre, Rot Ouga, Ruse Canis, Sciftan, Suicara, Volgus, Strife, Swert, Smaralda Fla, Tricari, Wysard Magus


First Post
Better late then never

First off, thank you Kai Lord! It’s been a blast reading through all the different entries and getting to know everyone characters.

Now on to my entry… A friend of mine, a born again gamer, has recently thrown together an impressive character sketch that I thought was worthy of a professional artists attention. Of course, I’ll let everyone else be the judge of that… :)


By all outward appearances, Qayath-Otuph-ibn-Phyk is a healthy young adult, of no more than thirty years, with piercing dark eyes that hint at the truth of his centuries of service at the side of Red Wizard Masters.
This monk stands six feet tall and has a medium build. To the trained eye he presents the perfect balance between strength and agility like a great predatory cat. Qayath is a human of mixed Rashemi / Mulani heritage and bears the dark skin and features so common in the East. His face is remarkable for its deep set eyes, aquiline nose, and a strong cleft chin. His face is free from any scars or hair. The monk is completely bald, including an absence of eyebrows.
Qayath’s single most outstanding feature is the Blood Bond Tattoo which covers his head entirely; a few tendrils of bleeding fire even reach beyond his neck. The colors are those of blood and flame; reds, oranges, and yellows with red the most prevalent. This tattoo was scribed on the top of his skull more than two centuries ago and has been slowly burning its way down to the bone and over the whole of his head. It is as though his masters had placed a volcano inside of him and the eldritch lava has been flowing downward to consume him ever since. Despite the look of volcanic lava, the tattoo has not marred the skin any more than a mundane tattoo would.
Qayath wears an Amulet of Epic Blows around his neck. It is set in a V-shaped collar piece of ebony and ochre that suggests Kossuth’s fire. The amulet itself is fashioned in the likeness of an exploding meteor. Since fleeing Thay, the monk has taken to wearing simple looking garments. He wears a Tunic fashioned of a heavy, coarse weave that is oatmeal in color. The tunic has an open collar and modest V-neck with light draw strings. There is a deceivingly simple rope belt tied around his waist. Qayath also wears a small open vest over the tunic that is embroidered with intricate patterns in the style of the East. The colors are a blend of black, burgundy, and several earth tones. Its quality and design suggest the modest prosperity of a more fortunate commoner. This human also wears a pair of weathered, brown leather bracers laced to his forearms; the leather is covered in ancient glyphs of flame.
The monk wears a pair of weathered, fingerless gloves that are tan in color with an open weave and brown leather palms. His legs are covered by dark colored, loose fitting breeches that are suitable for adventuring and give him the freedom of movement needed for unarmed combat. His feet are protected by sandals that are nothing more than two semi-rigid soles and two long, wide silken straps that are used to bind the soles to the feet and tie around the lower calf.

As you can read, my friend has, quite enthusiastically, embraced the hobby once again. I’m sure he would greatly appreciate an artist’s rendition of his current character (of course, wouldn’t we all). Thanks again Kai Lord!


First Post
Yoko Shadowstag
Class: Rogue 4/Sorceror 1
Age: 16
Race: Goblin (with shadow heritage)
Alignment: Neutral Good
Height: 2'4
She is basicly a gothic Goblin girl, pale-white skin, very pretty for a Goblin. She has deep, black mysterious eyes, and a small pair of fangs jut from her top lip rather than from the bottom lip like most Goblins. She has black hair in short ponytails. She wears deep plum lipstick and nail varnish on her toe and finger-nails, and a necklace with Olidammara's symbol on it. She wears a black crop-top that show her shoulders, and a short black, leather skirt that has lace where her hips are.
Her personality is friendly and alluring, and very seductive. She is charismatic and sexy and doesn't mind showing it. She also has a mysterious side to her, as she has shadow-blood in her heritage. This means that her eyes are shiny and pure black, and her shadow seems larger and more ogre-like in shape. This is infact a large sized shadow that she has befriended, and it protects her.
She wields a composite shortbow and a kukri dagger inscribed with an image of a shadow-mastiff.

A guy named Origami_Ninja did this for her. Very pretty in a goblinoid sort of way...

Not open for further replies.

An Advertisement