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[RangerWickett]

Gook Moop, Goblin hero
Created by Jessica Jones.

Gook is a classically stupid Goblin. He managed to become a great warrior of his people, saving them from numerous powerful foes, like the nymph that shrank Goblins and fed them to a dragon (actually a cat), and the vicious black dragon that Gook killed by blowing up a bunker filled with gunpowder.

Gook died when he was too eager to play the famous Goblin game, "Dodge the Guillotine."

Even after death, however, Gook lived on to fame. His head was preserved by a mage who wanted to have a shrunken head spirit fetish. Gook was not quite as skilled of a spirit-seer as the mage had hoped, however, and so the gibbering Goblin head traveled from owner to owner, guiding them safely through their travels, but being an annoyance.

Gook always smiles, since it's about all he can do now. And he loves fish. His last owner was Harley, described below.

 

[RangerWickett]

Hera 'Harley' Fyana, Elf performer and stage magician
Created by Jessica Jones.

Hera's family, and indeed her whole people, disapproved of being too friendly or familiar with humans, so when Hera grew too curious and started sneaking into a nearby human community, her cousin Seth Fyana took advantage of the situation and arranged to have Hera killed by humans, hoping he could ride the public outcry to a position of power in the community.

Hera was indeed almost killed, but she managed to sneak out of town by hiding in the wagon of a traveling performer, Miguel Moskowitz, or "The Magnificent Mosko." Hera traveled with Mosko for a while, learning human languages and the skills of a stage performer. She earned her own nickname, Harley, for being a talented and nimble Harlequin in Mosko's stage plays.

Eventually, Harley ran into trouble and had to run, eventually taking to a life of adventuring because it paid well. She disliked the danger involved, but eventually grew to care greatly for her fellow party members, and thus continued to fight with them even though she felt she could be little help. Eventually she proved to herself that she could be a valuable asset, and developed a greater confidence in herself, even though she still disliked the dangers of adventuring. Now, after three years of adventuring, she has again found her mentor Mosko, and travels with him, performing in numerous cities.

Harley dresses more like a human than an Elf, often wearing performing costumes over Elf chain shirts.

One of Harley's adventuring companions died, and left her his sword, a beautiful black scimitar that had been a royal heirloom of an old Elvish nation. The scimitar's blade is edged with thin, gleaming diamonds, and its hilt wrappings are deep violet leather, but aside from that, everything else is almost solid black. Harley respects the old blade, which obviously has magical powers she is unaware of, but she seldom uses it in combat. She usually keeps it in Mosko's wagon.

Harley wears her red-brown hair in one long braid, and though she used to hide her Elven ears, she now is no longer afraid of reactions from humans, and proudly shows off her Elven features. Years of adventuring and practice as a performer have made her an expert acrobat, so when she does fight, she is often a blur across the battlefield.

 

[RangerWickett]

Bobbie-Sue Komalofski, human mage-for-hire, adopted daughter of gnomes
Created by Courtney Cavaliere.

Bobbie-Sue was raised as an orphan by a group of traveling gnomish gypsies. She learned gnomish illusion magic, and when her adopted brother Ralph left the clan to start a curios and antiques shop, Bobbie-Sue went with him to help.

Bobbie-Sue is very slender and quirky looking, with a long neck and wavy black hair that falls to her shoulders. Though she is very smart, Bobbie-Sue doesn't recognize danger very easily, and so her curiosity often gets the better of her when she accompanies Ralph to explore old tombs and ruins. She wears light robes, often with a blue-green plaid pattern, and recently she became friends with a sentient, talking ring-tailed lemur named Buford.

Bobbie-Sue loves palm trees, hates spiders, and enjoys pretending that she's less smart than she actually is.

 

[Aaron L]

Rhaethiir Illiphar Vytheryl N’Vyn

A gold elven bladesinger from Leuhilspar, trained in the bladesong by his grandfather, he is a minor noble known for his opinions and a smart mouth. He gained notoriety in the capitol of Evermeet for his sharp tongue, and became something of a scandel and was popular among the young nobles of the city (those who he didn’t offend with his sarcasm, at least.)

By the time he was a young adult, he had offended most of the noble houses on Evermeet, especially the most arrogant. His mother is a Moon Elf who had married into House N’Vyn, and he had become somewhat of a pariah among the nobility, not being "Gold" enough for the Gold elves, and not "Moon" enough for the Moon elves. The final blow came when, at a whim, he dyed his hair red. Those nobles whom he had offended took this as a mockery of the Queen (who has red hair) and in the following weeks he received 20 challenges to duel. Not wanting to duel half the city of Leuthilspar, he left the island.

He traveled to the mainland and joined with a band of adventurers. Early in their career, this band fought a group of werewolves, but they had no magic or silver weapons, and so were finding it very difficult. Raethiir eventually used his silver holy symbol of Corellon Larethian (a crescent moon) to kill the two werewolves, and thus their group took the name “The Company of the Crescent Blade”. He still wears the symbol, with the battle wear from the fight intact.

Rhaethiir has fought in Myth Drannor and met a baelnorn, aided the crown in Cormyr against espionage from Sembia, fought alongside a Halruuan spellfire wielder and defended him against abduction attempts from the city of Shade, fought Zhentarim and Red Wizards, helped in the reconstruction of Evereska, and helped slay the fang dragon Phlargonnel.

Rhaethiir has long black hair and silver eyes. He is 6' 2"
tall and weighs 155 lbs., and he has golden skin. He wears elven chainmail and carries a mithril longsword. The only magic item he posses is an ioun stone that brings him good luck.

Gold elf male fighter 4/wizard 2/bladesinger 10/ weapon master 1

Str: 12
Dex: 18
Con: 12
Int: 24
Wis: 10
Cha: 14

 

[Cedric]

Barathon Silvermane, Swordlord of the Purple Dragons

The cool breeze swirled, snapping the banners back and forth in their rhythmic dance with the wind. Rising above those banners and snapping in that same breeze was the Standard of the Silver Lion.

Goblin armies marked the horizon as far as the eyes could see and the Purple Dragons of Cormyr were arrayed against them in the well choreographed lines of a trained Army.

Even among so many cloaks of purple and black, one man stood out. Leading the crown's army this day was The Silver Lion. The battle was yet to be fought, but the victory was all but assured.

The black standard behind him bore the Rising Sun of Lathander under a soaring Purple Dragon. The Sun was flanked on either side by Silver Lions which glinted in the morning sun.

Barathon Silvermane, Paladin of Lathander, is one of Cormyr's five Swordlords. Raised by the church he was found on the doorstep of the Temple in Marsember wrapped in a banner of black velvet. The same banner which rose behind him to mark his place on the battefield.

A tall Aasimar, just over 6'2", he is marked with hair of the brightest silver and brilliant topaz eyes. Raised by the temple of Lathander he is a natural born leader. Men flock to his banner to fight and he fights for Cormyr.

Riding a Celestial Heavy Warhorse of the deepest black with a silver mane, he stands out on the battlefield and where he goes, so goes defeat for his enemies.

"For Cormyr, Bring the Dawn!!"

Cedric

 

[Li Shenron]

Dehra Dun & Ur-Quan Shenron

Dehra Dun is a juvenile good Druidess of Human father and Elven mother. She has joyful shining green eyes and long, curly red hair which is always messy and which she likes to keep flowers and plants in, some of which seem even to be growing there spontaneously. A lot of freckles wink from her fair skin, and in the summer they tan and nicely cover her whole body. Despite her young age she has seen quite a lot: she first lived in his father’s human community, but he was an adventurer and explorer of the seas and she ended up spending most of the year without him, which later made her feel the need to seek her true identity among the elves of the woods. There she met an elven druid who was destined to make her join the druidic religion. But on one dark winter day a message arrived, that her father’s ship had not returned; haunted by the thought of having lost him forever, and feeling the guilt for having left, she departed from the wood folks and started her quest for his father which so far has led her to many adventures, but without discovering yet the reason why the ship disappeared.
Dehra loves nature and all the animals, she is never afraid when she is in the wilderness and knows perfectly what she can trust. Her respect and understanding for every creature or natural entity is unmatched even by many elders of the druidic community. On the downside, cities are not Dehra’s realm, as she feels uncomfortable with everything which strays too far from what she calls ”the roots of every being”. She wants to trust people, but feels more in tune with her two animal companions she travels with, a proud eagle called Cotca and a young and playful female wolf called Zuzy: she would never deliberately expose them to harm or threat to life, but reality is that she can’t really keep them from helping her bravely when she is in distress.
Dehra learned how to cope with the hard way of adventuring when she was imprisoned as a slave on a galley, a time of sorrow which, on the bright side, brought her to meet Shenron, one of her now most beloved friends and fellows. Now she has become a skillful and fierce combatant as well, but never ceases to worship nature for comfort, and always follows her druidic oaths to take from nature what nature gives us, as it can be seen even when she fights, by the fact she only uses weapons of simple craft: a crude scimitar, a wooden shield, and protections of animal hides.

Ur-Quan Shenron (”Shenron of the clan of the strong”) is a good-hearted young adult Wild Elf of solid build and simple mind. Raised in a tribe of free-spirited hunters and brawlers in a distant land, he learned to value friendship, fraternity and freedom above everything else. From his people he inherited an attitude of protecting the weak, respect the different, and esteem the wise. As a young tribesman, he was not stranger to the favourite sports of his fellows, like wrestling or archery games, and to fair hunting, but his notable insight soon brought him to the attention of the elders, who teached him to become a Cleric of Kord, the God of Strength and Courage.
One day when tired for hunting too late and too far with his squad, he and his companions were caught into an ambush lead by sea mercenaries; the ones who didn’t fell to the swords were captured and sold as slaves on pirate ships. That bloody red day was the end of Shenron’s life with his people, and the beginning of his adventures with a Druid called Dehra Dun. Once their slavery was put to end by the aid of a well-armed mercantile fleet, Shenron arrived in a new and unknown civilized land, whose people and culture tickled both his elven curiosity and his chaotic spirit, but the bonds that kept him slave on a galley for months had not left him unscathed, as he swore before his ancestors and Kord himself to never leave any tyranny, slavery or oppression stand in front of him, and never he will. Against such evil he fights fearless, blindly trusting the aim of his eye and the speed of his fingers playing the string of his oaken bow, for he still kills as he was used when hunting: mercyless and quickly, because even the worst foe does not deserve a slow and painful death. And when evil approaches closely, there is always his stone headed battleaxe, the only legacy left to his former family.
Shenron isn’t a smart person, and he knows that. He doesn’t often understand the way of Wizards and other knowledgeable folks, how they manage to dwell among books, when he gets headaches just by the browsing through the pages. But he is respectful of the ones more intelligent than him. He doesn’t scorn nor envy. He just loves freedom more than anything else, not only his own but others’ as well, and this greatest attitude manifests in all his habits, from wearing only armors of animal skins to move more freely, to resting every night under the sky, somewhere there outside the current town’s ring, where he can still believe for a while that the wind that whistles is the same that swept his homeland.

A note from the chronicles of this world:
Dehra and Shenron are very likely in love with each other, although the haven’t realized it at all. Whoever asks them about if there’s an affaire between the two, receives only smiles as an answer. Whatever there is, or whatever there will be, one thing is sure: so much they are fond of each other, and so many emotions they have shared, that no trouble can separate them any more. Whatever fate awaits one of the two, being it to die in battle or to become immortal, to fall to a doom or to retire to Arborea, or simply to end up in a picture on someone’s scroll, it will never happen without the other…

 

[talinthas]

ur-quan? like in the video game star control?

 

[Arryn]

ARRYN RAVEN

<img src=http://us.f1.yahoofs.com/groups/g_8331324/Character+Art/Arryn+Raven+the+Black+Bard.jpg?bcyXMK_A7kVF49Z6><br><br>The general din of the tavern lowers as a man in his early twenties takes the stage. It’s not his appearance that commands attention, although with his green eyes, black close-cropped hair, and goatee he does strike a handsome image. No it’s his presence on stage that draws all eyes to him. He seems to light up the room by just standing there. <br><br>He is oddly dressed for a performer, the leather clothing and rapier at his side give him a rough, capable look, yet he moves with a grace of a dancer. From the looks some of the women in the audience give him, they are obviously imagining him moving in a much different way. He turns and graces the crowd with a grin that can only be described as “roguish.” His expression seems to say, <font color=blue><I>”That’s right… I’m good and I know it… and you haven’t seen anything yet.”</I></font> Despite his cocky manner, there is something very appealing about him.<br><br>He removes the satchel from his side and places it on the stool provided for him. He cracks his knuckles loudly to loosen his fingers and reaches into his bag. He rummages around for a second and finally pulls out an object from the bag, still grinning at the crowd. There are a few titters from the crowd, and the man’s grin fades as he sees what the audience has already figured out… in his hand, instead of an instrument, he holds what appears to be a fake chicken. His expression changes to one of shock as he quickly stuffs the chicken back in his bag. He begins rummaging again, leaving the audience with one thought, <I>”Was that supposed to happen?”</I><br><br>After a moment or so, the grin returns to the man’s face and he pulls forth another item. This time the crowd gasps in astonishment, for out of the small bag he pulls a full sized lute. He gingerly sets the bag on the floor and strikes a chord on the exquisitely made instrument. The sound from the lute is sheer beauty; one would think there is no more perfect sound… that is until he begins to sing. The tenor voice that comes from his mouth is rich and powerful. He sings:<br><br><br><center><font color=blue><I>The Lady Fair walked in the room,<br>
Her beauty, plain to see. <br>
And I, being a flirty rogue, <br>
Said, "Lady, Dance with me?" <br><br>

She looked me up, she looked me down.<br>
She seemed quite lost in thought. <br>
But then she said six dreadful words, <br>
"With you sir? I think not." <br><br>

Now I have never been a man <br>
Who gave up easily. <br>
So I did say, with roguish charm, <br>
"But Lady, I love thee." <br><br>

Now though the Lady is quite fair, <br>
Apparently she's smart. <br>
She laughed at me and said, "I see <br>
Right through your lying heart." <br><br>

I had no witty quip for that, <br>
So I left with a groan. <br>
The Lady Fair would not be mine. <br>
Tonight, I sleep alone.</I></font></center><br><br>
Amidst a hail of laughter and cheers, Arryn Raven smiles at the crowd and winks…<br><br><center> Oh yeah… this guy is good.</center>


BACKGROUND

Arryn Raven’s mother was a chambermaid in the King Azoun’s palace. His father, Arden Telawyr, was an Ambassador from Thay on a diplomatic visit. Arden was struck by Cassandra’s beauty and he two became intimate. Arryn was the result. His mother with the aid of the entire maid staff raised Arryn. His charm and musical skill both became evident at an early age. As was his curiosity; he spent much of his youth in the vast library of the Palace.
<br><br>
Tragically, his mother died the winter of his 13th year. That spring his father made another visit to the Palace. Arryn found out and went to visit his father. Arden’s bodyguards did not believe the young man's claim so they taunted and ridiculed him. When Arryn got angry, they beat him severely. He fled the palace never to return again.
<br><br>
He lived on the streets for the next few years. His only income was stealing and singing for handouts. During his time on the street, he would often run afoul of slavers who would try to steal orphans off the streets and put them to work. He was always able to stay ahead of them, but his experiences have fostered in him a deep hatred of slavery and those who practice it.
<br><br>
When Arryn was fifteen a Wizard with an ear for music happened to watch his street performance. The Wizard recognized Arryn's talent and took the young man under his wing. Langdurin trained Arryn to be a Bard and taught him the basics of magic while his wife, Cindra (a formidable Duelist) taught him how to fight.
<br><br>
One night, after performing at a local inn, he returned to find Langdurin’s house burnt to the ground. It was often rumored that Langdurin experimented with unusual items. The Purple Dragons decided that one of his experiments went wrong. Arryn always suspected his mentor to be a Harper, and he believes the Mage met foul play..
<br><br>
After Langdurin's death, Arryn traveled around the realms seeking adventure. He did many things during this time, he was an adventurer, a performer, a lover, and a thief. The young man inherited his mentor's love of all things magical, often dropping everything he was doing to investigate a rumor of magical items. He is currently wandering, in search of his next big adventure.<br><br>His story begins…

 

[Li Shenron]

ur-quan? like in the video game star control?

I have never had much inspiration about names

I liked "Ur" which is also the name of one of the most ancient megalopolis, and "Quan" sounded like clan in a savage language.

 

[Bob the Reaver]

Well i better try i suppose. I let the wizards contest go without entering so I better do this as well before I regret it (I think that I might avoid these contests becuse I can neither rite or spel!)

Ive been a GM for all but like 3 games in the past 15 years but in all my game worlds there is a Dogbiter, the character that I have yearned to play since I was 10 years old. So with no preperation and lttle sleep i present too you...

Dogbiter

A nasty aging halfling of ill repute and worse hygine. Dogbiter makes a living doing the jobs others find either too tasteless or, most ofton, too disgusting. If you have lost your magic ring in the citys sewers, Dogbiter is the guy you need to go find it. If you need a few "rare" necromantic spell componats, Dogbiter can dig them up for ya. If you need some one to discreetly bury the 12 rogues you roasted with your fireball last night, well Dogbiters your half a man.

Dogbiter is most ofton found lurking in a number of run down taverns in the dock district. Usually roaming the bar trying to get new customers to buy him a drink or pick the pockets of the drunk or unaware, dogbiter dosnt stray far from the ale.

Dressed in a worn leather jacket, soiled old green breaches and an anciant leather cap reinforced with metal studs, his clothes are not much to look at. Sadly his face is worse still. Deep lines set with dirt draw about the halflings face. His eyes, still very much aware, are marred by a scar running across the left side of his brow. His left eye, damaged by what ever weapon scarred his face, is a milky blue. Always quick with a smile Dogbiters mouth reveils only the jagged remains of teeth, most however are missing. Unshaven for perhaps decades Dogbiter only sports a few wispy grey and black wiskers. Long halfling ears reach out from his wrinked smile. Both ears are adorned with cheap brass and copper rings, the right ear is missing its tip. His hair when not hidden under his leather cap is long, greasy and unkept. He attempts to control the sweaty mop with a large leather lash begemmed(is that a word?) with colored glass.

At his belt hangs a dagger of tarnished steel, its hilt is covered in several unknown symbols. Dogbiter claims this weapon is magical though few belive him. The dagger is perhaps his greatest treasure.

When Dogbiter came to the town not many can say. It is said when Dogbiter arrived he went to the nearest tavern and begane to drink. He became rowdy and the inn keeper sicked his dog on the "little runt", thats when dogbiter got the moniker hes carried for the last 12 years. The "little runt" leaped from his chair and bit the dogs ears off.

It is known that he had spent a long time travelling, for his knowledge of forign lands is surprisingly complte. Every so ofton he is visted by strange adventerous folk, mages, barabarians, once it is, said even a king from a distant land had jorneyed to see the rogish halfling. What is discussed between Dogbiter and his mysterious visitors is always secret and most ofton very brief.
Although Dogbiter seems a worthless begger of ale, poor pick pocket or, when really drunk, a rowdy bruiser, a few know that he possesses useful skills. Some come to him for these talents, usally a bit of information that he had picked up in his shrowded past but occassionally, if you can get him sober enough, he is able to do more descreat work. Tomb robbery and dungeon delving are a few of his unknown but highly prized skills.

Most of his days however are wiled away drinking, whoring and commiting petty crimes (in that order). Not much fazes Dogbiter anymore. Those in the know genrally give him a wide berth (most ofton to avoid the stencth). This is fine for the runty halfling. What ever adventures are behind him he would like them to stay there. Now he is content to be. (A dirty drunk whoring halfling that is)