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NOW LIVE! Into the Woods--new character species, eerie monsters, and haunting villains to populate the woodlands of your D&D games.
[Midnight] Escape from Shadow – OOC
- Thread starter hbarsquared
- Start date
hbarsquared
Quantum Chronomancer
Rikander Azebol -- I was looking over your character, Torak, again, and I have a couple suggestions.
First, the only other language the other two characters share is Erenlander. If you want to communicate with the rest of the party, perhaps Torak should learn this language as his bonus language, instead of Trader's Tongue. Either that, or learn comprehend languages instead of some other 1st-level spell. Let me know.
Second, and this is just a small issue, based on Torak's background, I would have to say his alignment is currently closer to Chaotic Good, instead of Chaotic Neutral. It's up to you.
First, the only other language the other two characters share is Erenlander. If you want to communicate with the rest of the party, perhaps Torak should learn this language as his bonus language, instead of Trader's Tongue. Either that, or learn comprehend languages instead of some other 1st-level spell. Let me know.
Second, and this is just a small issue, based on Torak's background, I would have to say his alignment is currently closer to Chaotic Good, instead of Chaotic Neutral. It's up to you.
Rikandur Azebol
First Post
jeremy_dnd said:
Sure thinge, DM. And by the way, Oops. I'm changing bonus language now.
And we will avoid situation like this:
<Trader's Tongue>
"Hi, where is food ?"
<Erenlander>
"What did this orc told us ?"
"Dunno, mebbi he want to get hit ?"
jeremy_dnd said:
Really ? But I didn't written anywhere that Torak is compassionate ... He is not as agressive as other Orc individualists, that is sure. Maybe ... maybe You are predicting his future, DM ? He might became good, but it depend on situations and people he will meet. Future will tell, thank for nice suggestion.
hbarsquared
Quantum Chronomancer
All right, Rikandur Azebol, no problem.
Everyone, go ahead and check out the Character thread to double check your characters. In the next few days, we will have the first post in the Playing the Game forum! In the meantime, I will post a second teaser later today . . .
Everyone, go ahead and check out the Character thread to double check your characters. In the next few days, we will have the first post in the Playing the Game forum! In the meantime, I will post a second teaser later today . . .
hbarsquared
Quantum Chronomancer
I would be honored, Dirigible. I've seen your tremendous work over at Against the Shadow, and it would be great to see a character from you. I might even bump up the player slots to 4 for ya! 
Looking forward to your character!
Looking forward to your character!
Rikandur Azebol
First Post
Chmmm, is Torak going to know all those languages ?! 
Oh, well I assume that You allow it from the beggining without using bonus language "slots".
And Chello, Dirigible ! You might notice that Dark Lord's faith isn't too deep within current warband of players.
If Jeremy ever allow us to level up into the Epic level ... Or to device spells ... DM, what would You say for personal epic quest of Torak, if he lives long enough, to "create" Wish spell ? I thinkthat everythingthat insanely ambitious Orc should strive for would be destroying their creator. Or becaming deity himself !
Good that all Torak wants is to get a warm meal.
Oh, well I assume that You allow it from the beggining without using bonus language "slots".
And Chello, Dirigible ! You might notice that Dark Lord's faith isn't too deep within current warband of players.
If Jeremy ever allow us to level up into the Epic level ... Or to device spells ... DM, what would You say for personal epic quest of Torak, if he lives long enough, to "create" Wish spell ? I thinkthat everythingthat insanely ambitious Orc should strive for would be destroying their creator. Or becaming deity himself !
Good that all Torak wants is to get a warm meal.
hbarsquared
Quantum Chronomancer
Rikandur Azebol - Yup. All orcs automatically know Old Dwarven Pidgin, High Elven Pidgin, the Black Tongue, and Orcish. With a 12 Int, he knows a bonus language: Erenlander. Recall that pidgin languages mean the character has only the barest grasp of the language. If your character speaks in pidgin, remember to phrase your dialogue like this:
The orc spoke in the old dwarven dialect, "You. Sword magic give. Take I." Then the orc turned to his comrade, "Doesn't the dwarf understand? I said, 'You, give me your enchanted weapon now, or I will take it from you.' I can't wait to leave this place."
Also, (and this goes for everyone), remember that literacy is not automatic for any language. A skill point must be used to gain literacy in a language already known.
The orc spoke in the old dwarven dialect, "You. Sword magic give. Take I." Then the orc turned to his comrade, "Doesn't the dwarf understand? I said, 'You, give me your enchanted weapon now, or I will take it from you.' I can't wait to leave this place."
Also, (and this goes for everyone), remember that literacy is not automatic for any language. A skill point must be used to gain literacy in a language already known.
Herremann the Wise
First Post
jeremy_dnd said:
Methuselas is as illiterate as they come - although he could most likely bluff his way into pretending he could read.
The only things I can see that are incorrect (my mistake) on my character summary is his:
grapple +8 [not +3: +1 melee, +3 Strength, +4 Improved Grapple]
Attack: +4 unarmed strike melee
Full Attack: +4 unarmed strike melee
Note that if he gets hold of an axe or greatsword somehow, Dorns get a +1 bonus in using these items. If you do not want to apply this bonus to Methuselas though, it would make sense.
Skills: Knowledge (Northlands) +4
Attack: +4 unarmed strike melee
Full Attack: +4 unarmed strike melee
Note that if he gets hold of an axe or greatsword somehow, Dorns get a +1 bonus in using these items. If you do not want to apply this bonus to Methuselas though, it would make sense.
Skills: Knowledge (Northlands) +4
By the way, how do you get the spoiler box rather than the tags?
Welcome Dirigible, look forward to seeing your "interesting" character.
Best Regards
Herremann the Wise
Dirigible
Explorer
Thanks, guys. Looking forwards to slaying many an orc with ya
Here we go, J.
Edit: Bah. Sorry about the formatting; I can't get it to hold the spaces before the lines, or do that neat 'spoiler text collapse to a single button' thing.
Karita
Beast Female Erenlander Wildlander 1
Medium humanoid
Hit Die: 1d8+3 (hp 11)
Initiative: +3
Speed: 30 ft.
AC: 13, touch 13, flat-footed 10
Base Attack: +1, grapple +2
Attack: +2 melee (d3+1 S / x2, claw)
Full Attack: +2/+2 melee (d3+1 S / x2, 2 claws) and +0 melee (d2 / x2, bite)
Saving Throws: Fortitude +5, Reflex +5, Will +2.
Abilities: Str 13, Dex 16, Con 16, Int 8, Wis 15, Cha 9.
Skills: Craft (bone & antler) +1, Craft (hides) +3, Climb +4, Heal +4 (no ranks), Hide +7, Jump +4, Listen +6, Move Silently +7, Spot +6, Survival +8.
Feats: Improved Unarmed Strike (virtual), Multiattack, Lightning Reflexes, Self-Sufficient.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral.
Languages: Erenlander.
Heroic Path:
- Vicious Assault (Natural weapons: two claws and a bite).
- Scent
Racial Traits:
+2 Con, -2 Cha
2 Bonus feats at 1st level
8 extra skill points at 1st level, 2 extra skill points per level
4 Bonus ranks in one Craft or Profession skill
Knowledge (Central Erenland) as class skill
Class Abilities:
- Master Hunter (Animals)
Physical Description:
[sblock]Karita is a feral-looking woman of mixed parentage and imprecise, but young, age. She stands a wiry and tanned 5'10", but her tendency to hunch over and squat makes her seem shorter. Thick, dirty hair that has never been touched by a blade and seldom washed hangs down to her mid-back, and is brown with lighter streaks. Each of her fingers ends in a long, curved claw, and her teeth are sharp, with especially prominent canines. Like all slaves, her body bears the marks of torture and bondage; unlike many, however, the majority of them are vicious animal-attack wounds, and long predate her life in captivity. It's possible that, without the encrusted layer of dirt that comes from living in the wilds and being afraid of water, a fairly attractive young woman might be revealed. Karita moves like a stalking wolf, always subconsciously watching her step and keeping her eyes on her prey. She wears filthy, crude but hard-wearing clothing of uncured hides, consisting of deer-skin trousers and a vest. Karita wears no shoes, and he feet are oddly deformed: she has only three large toes on each, though this doesn't cause her any trouble in walking.[/sblock]
Background:
[sblock]Legate Golghan slurped another gobletful of wine, and eyed the farmer who stood in supplication before his table. "So, Rethlin, would you care to tell me why you are five bales of wool behind on your tithe?"
"M'lud..." the man quavered, "My flock... there's been a beast eatin' of 'em... and I've no arrers for me bow..."
Golghan scowled, making his flabby jowls jiggle. He was not fool enough to let his subjects retain weapons, to let them kindle the hope of armed defiance, but it did create irksome problems like this. "It is not my role, you cretinous villein, to drive off whatever wolves or bears wander onto your farm..."
"P-pardon, m'lud... taint no wolf, no bear." The man was squirming now.
"No?" Golghan asked, raising a brow. "Then what?"
"It... looks like a man, but I've seen it rip a ewe's throat out with one 'and... then drag the carcass back into the woods. 'Tis..." Rethlin shuddered, and whispered "...'tis the were-wolf."
Some might have dismissed such talk as folk tales, but legate Golghan was cannier than that. The books of the Order spoke of such creatures, animalistic shape chagers that could wreak havoc on whole villages, and would fall only to magic. He levered his bulk out of the chair, and retrieved a huge, iron-headed mace from where it hung on the wall.
"It's your lucky day, Rethlin..." the fat priest grinned spitefully. "Have your wife put on supper for me. I'm going hunting."
- - -
Berria's birth pains culminated with the high, angry whine of her daughter not long after midnight. Joerel quickly cut the mothercord, and wrapped the squirming infant in a lambs wool blanket. He met his wife's eyes as she tried to wriggle upright, panting and wet with perspiration, and smiled affectionately. "I would have preferred a son, beloved, but there's always next time. No, an eldest daughter will be good, as long as she is health..."
The word died on his lips as he unwrapped the child. Saw the claws flexing on her tiny fingers. Saw her three-toed feet and pointed teeth prematurely present in her mouth. Saw the fine brown hair on her head. Joerel ran a callused hand through the thick, Dornish blond mane on his head, fear, anger, panic and confusion rising in his mind like bile.
"Berria... what is this?" he almost pleaded, forcing the infant into her mother's hands. "How did you birth this... witchspawn?" His voice rose to a furious shout, overwhelming the child's cries. "You swore you would stop your Art, woman! Do you want to bring the legates down on our heads? What demon did you cavort with to get with this... cursed brat!"
"Joer...Joerel..." Berria was nearly sobbing, but there was iron in her eyes. "You don't understand... the spirit of the woods, he came to me... our daughter, my daughter! She has a destiny...!"
"Enough! I will not have this monster in my house, you cuckolding whore!" Joerel roared, roughly snatching back the baby and flinging open the door. "Let the forest that fathered her have her, then!"
With Berria's screams and pleas echoing in his ears, the Dornish woodsman strode out into the windy night. He pushed through the trees until he felt that he was far enough away for the cottage, and then he placed the snarling, wild bay into a hollow between two roots. With a last glance at it, an expression that revealed much pain, he walked away, leaving the cold and night to do what it would.
Some time later, as the wind lashed leaves through the air, a tall figure stooped to pick up the motionless infant in his huge, emerald green hands. He raised the child to his face, peering at her closely. The moonlight gleamed off his antlers. He though to himself, Yes..
Cradling the baby in the crook of his elbow, the figure strode off into the deepest part of the woods.
- - -
Golghan thrived on being underestimated. No-one believed that such a fat man would be such a fierce fighter... or so quick on his feet.
Certainly, this 'beast' had no idea what it was in for.
His ears picked up a faint rustling, and his instincts warned him what was comming. Golghan pivoted, swinging his mace through the air. He struck the leaping, brownish streak as it lunged towards him, and knocked it aside. A thin, savage human figure crashed into the soil of the forest, blood trickling from a bloody gash in its thick tangle of hair.
The hawk perched on a branch above screeched in triumph. The bird that currently housed Golghan's astirax had already warned him that whatever haunted this forest was no ordinary animal. Standing over the body, the legate heard it give a pained groan, and was inclined to agree. He reached out with his boot and flipped the figure over, and saw that it was human. Or near enough.
Golghan squatted with a release of breath, and dubiously examined the wiry, dirty young female. Saw her claws and the fangs in her gaping mouth.
"Well now... here's a puzzle,' he said softly. "One I think the Order would be most interested in examining..."
- - -
"Karita!"
The feral girl looked up sharply from her meal of raw rabbit, eyes wide and ears pricked.
"Karita!"
The blue woman had returned. Quietly, the girl crept through the undergrowth, finding a spot beneath a bush where she could hide and watch.
The blue woman picked her way through the forest, her cloak pulled tightly around her. She came to a flat rock in the middle of a clearing, and slowly sat, letting the garment fall open. Her lined face looked sadly around the wall of trees, and she sighed.
"Oh, Karita, my child... I don't even know whether you're alive or dead, let alone whether you're here," the woman murmured, then raised her voice. "I've brought the book, my love. Shall I read?"
The woman began to recite old tales and great stories in her soft, rich voice. Under the branches, the wild girl's eyes half closed, and she lay listening to the sound, her lips occasionally moving in time with them subconsciously. She liked hearing the sounds the blue woman made, but she never dared approach; the blue woman unsettled her almost as much as the green man with horns she sometimes saw in the distant parts of the wood.
That evening, when the blue woman had gone, the girl sat and skinned the rabbit with a crude knife of sharpened bone. As she worked, she made shapes with her lips, and blew air through them.
"Ka. Kaaaah. Ka. Ree. Ka. Ree. Taa."[/sblock]
Personality:
[sblock]Karita was raised without civilisation or socialisation, and is in many ways more animal than human. She learned some words thanks to her mother's attempts to contact the girl, but it was only since she was captured that she has had a chance to use them, and her grasp of the language is very weak. Survival is the foremost goal in her mind; as far as she is concerned, the slave pens are not fundamentally different to the wilderness she lived in before: both are places where death comes easily. Normally, she simply ignores things that she does not understand, but of late the proximity to other humans has lit a spark of curiosity within her, one that may grow into a desire for increased human contact and knowledge if enslavement doesn't quench it. She has come to fear the orcish guards like the bears of the forest; they are just too strong and brutal for her to fight, and the last time she tried they took her claws out with pincers. Lacking the intelligence to come up with an escape plan of her own, Karita waits for an opportunity to present itself, like a caged animal waiting for the keeper to make a mistake.[/sblock]
Notes:
Karita was declawed when she was enslaved to make her less of a threat to the slave drivers, reducing her natural weapon damage from d4 lethal to d3 subdual. She has lost claws in hunting accidents before, and they always regrow; how long this takes is up to the DM.
Here we go, J.
Edit: Bah. Sorry about the formatting; I can't get it to hold the spaces before the lines, or do that neat 'spoiler text collapse to a single button' thing.
Karita
Beast Female Erenlander Wildlander 1
Medium humanoid
Hit Die: 1d8+3 (hp 11)
Initiative: +3
Speed: 30 ft.
AC: 13, touch 13, flat-footed 10
Base Attack: +1, grapple +2
Attack: +2 melee (d3+1 S / x2, claw)
Full Attack: +2/+2 melee (d3+1 S / x2, 2 claws) and +0 melee (d2 / x2, bite)
Saving Throws: Fortitude +5, Reflex +5, Will +2.
Abilities: Str 13, Dex 16, Con 16, Int 8, Wis 15, Cha 9.
Skills: Craft (bone & antler) +1, Craft (hides) +3, Climb +4, Heal +4 (no ranks), Hide +7, Jump +4, Listen +6, Move Silently +7, Spot +6, Survival +8.
Feats: Improved Unarmed Strike (virtual), Multiattack, Lightning Reflexes, Self-Sufficient.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral.
Languages: Erenlander.
Heroic Path:
- Vicious Assault (Natural weapons: two claws and a bite).
- Scent
Racial Traits:
+2 Con, -2 Cha
2 Bonus feats at 1st level
8 extra skill points at 1st level, 2 extra skill points per level
4 Bonus ranks in one Craft or Profession skill
Knowledge (Central Erenland) as class skill
Class Abilities:
- Master Hunter (Animals)
Physical Description:
[sblock]Karita is a feral-looking woman of mixed parentage and imprecise, but young, age. She stands a wiry and tanned 5'10", but her tendency to hunch over and squat makes her seem shorter. Thick, dirty hair that has never been touched by a blade and seldom washed hangs down to her mid-back, and is brown with lighter streaks. Each of her fingers ends in a long, curved claw, and her teeth are sharp, with especially prominent canines. Like all slaves, her body bears the marks of torture and bondage; unlike many, however, the majority of them are vicious animal-attack wounds, and long predate her life in captivity. It's possible that, without the encrusted layer of dirt that comes from living in the wilds and being afraid of water, a fairly attractive young woman might be revealed. Karita moves like a stalking wolf, always subconsciously watching her step and keeping her eyes on her prey. She wears filthy, crude but hard-wearing clothing of uncured hides, consisting of deer-skin trousers and a vest. Karita wears no shoes, and he feet are oddly deformed: she has only three large toes on each, though this doesn't cause her any trouble in walking.[/sblock]
Background:
[sblock]Legate Golghan slurped another gobletful of wine, and eyed the farmer who stood in supplication before his table. "So, Rethlin, would you care to tell me why you are five bales of wool behind on your tithe?"
"M'lud..." the man quavered, "My flock... there's been a beast eatin' of 'em... and I've no arrers for me bow..."
Golghan scowled, making his flabby jowls jiggle. He was not fool enough to let his subjects retain weapons, to let them kindle the hope of armed defiance, but it did create irksome problems like this. "It is not my role, you cretinous villein, to drive off whatever wolves or bears wander onto your farm..."
"P-pardon, m'lud... taint no wolf, no bear." The man was squirming now.
"No?" Golghan asked, raising a brow. "Then what?"
"It... looks like a man, but I've seen it rip a ewe's throat out with one 'and... then drag the carcass back into the woods. 'Tis..." Rethlin shuddered, and whispered "...'tis the were-wolf."
Some might have dismissed such talk as folk tales, but legate Golghan was cannier than that. The books of the Order spoke of such creatures, animalistic shape chagers that could wreak havoc on whole villages, and would fall only to magic. He levered his bulk out of the chair, and retrieved a huge, iron-headed mace from where it hung on the wall.
"It's your lucky day, Rethlin..." the fat priest grinned spitefully. "Have your wife put on supper for me. I'm going hunting."
- - -
Berria's birth pains culminated with the high, angry whine of her daughter not long after midnight. Joerel quickly cut the mothercord, and wrapped the squirming infant in a lambs wool blanket. He met his wife's eyes as she tried to wriggle upright, panting and wet with perspiration, and smiled affectionately. "I would have preferred a son, beloved, but there's always next time. No, an eldest daughter will be good, as long as she is health..."
The word died on his lips as he unwrapped the child. Saw the claws flexing on her tiny fingers. Saw her three-toed feet and pointed teeth prematurely present in her mouth. Saw the fine brown hair on her head. Joerel ran a callused hand through the thick, Dornish blond mane on his head, fear, anger, panic and confusion rising in his mind like bile.
"Berria... what is this?" he almost pleaded, forcing the infant into her mother's hands. "How did you birth this... witchspawn?" His voice rose to a furious shout, overwhelming the child's cries. "You swore you would stop your Art, woman! Do you want to bring the legates down on our heads? What demon did you cavort with to get with this... cursed brat!"
"Joer...Joerel..." Berria was nearly sobbing, but there was iron in her eyes. "You don't understand... the spirit of the woods, he came to me... our daughter, my daughter! She has a destiny...!"
"Enough! I will not have this monster in my house, you cuckolding whore!" Joerel roared, roughly snatching back the baby and flinging open the door. "Let the forest that fathered her have her, then!"
With Berria's screams and pleas echoing in his ears, the Dornish woodsman strode out into the windy night. He pushed through the trees until he felt that he was far enough away for the cottage, and then he placed the snarling, wild bay into a hollow between two roots. With a last glance at it, an expression that revealed much pain, he walked away, leaving the cold and night to do what it would.
Some time later, as the wind lashed leaves through the air, a tall figure stooped to pick up the motionless infant in his huge, emerald green hands. He raised the child to his face, peering at her closely. The moonlight gleamed off his antlers. He though to himself, Yes..
Cradling the baby in the crook of his elbow, the figure strode off into the deepest part of the woods.
- - -
Golghan thrived on being underestimated. No-one believed that such a fat man would be such a fierce fighter... or so quick on his feet.
Certainly, this 'beast' had no idea what it was in for.
His ears picked up a faint rustling, and his instincts warned him what was comming. Golghan pivoted, swinging his mace through the air. He struck the leaping, brownish streak as it lunged towards him, and knocked it aside. A thin, savage human figure crashed into the soil of the forest, blood trickling from a bloody gash in its thick tangle of hair.
The hawk perched on a branch above screeched in triumph. The bird that currently housed Golghan's astirax had already warned him that whatever haunted this forest was no ordinary animal. Standing over the body, the legate heard it give a pained groan, and was inclined to agree. He reached out with his boot and flipped the figure over, and saw that it was human. Or near enough.
Golghan squatted with a release of breath, and dubiously examined the wiry, dirty young female. Saw her claws and the fangs in her gaping mouth.
"Well now... here's a puzzle,' he said softly. "One I think the Order would be most interested in examining..."
- - -
"Karita!"
The feral girl looked up sharply from her meal of raw rabbit, eyes wide and ears pricked.
"Karita!"
The blue woman had returned. Quietly, the girl crept through the undergrowth, finding a spot beneath a bush where she could hide and watch.
The blue woman picked her way through the forest, her cloak pulled tightly around her. She came to a flat rock in the middle of a clearing, and slowly sat, letting the garment fall open. Her lined face looked sadly around the wall of trees, and she sighed.
"Oh, Karita, my child... I don't even know whether you're alive or dead, let alone whether you're here," the woman murmured, then raised her voice. "I've brought the book, my love. Shall I read?"
The woman began to recite old tales and great stories in her soft, rich voice. Under the branches, the wild girl's eyes half closed, and she lay listening to the sound, her lips occasionally moving in time with them subconsciously. She liked hearing the sounds the blue woman made, but she never dared approach; the blue woman unsettled her almost as much as the green man with horns she sometimes saw in the distant parts of the wood.
That evening, when the blue woman had gone, the girl sat and skinned the rabbit with a crude knife of sharpened bone. As she worked, she made shapes with her lips, and blew air through them.
"Ka. Kaaaah. Ka. Ree. Ka. Ree. Taa."[/sblock]
Personality:
[sblock]Karita was raised without civilisation or socialisation, and is in many ways more animal than human. She learned some words thanks to her mother's attempts to contact the girl, but it was only since she was captured that she has had a chance to use them, and her grasp of the language is very weak. Survival is the foremost goal in her mind; as far as she is concerned, the slave pens are not fundamentally different to the wilderness she lived in before: both are places where death comes easily. Normally, she simply ignores things that she does not understand, but of late the proximity to other humans has lit a spark of curiosity within her, one that may grow into a desire for increased human contact and knowledge if enslavement doesn't quench it. She has come to fear the orcish guards like the bears of the forest; they are just too strong and brutal for her to fight, and the last time she tried they took her claws out with pincers. Lacking the intelligence to come up with an escape plan of her own, Karita waits for an opportunity to present itself, like a caged animal waiting for the keeper to make a mistake.[/sblock]
Notes:
Karita was declawed when she was enslaved to make her less of a threat to the slave drivers, reducing her natural weapon damage from d4 lethal to d3 subdual. She has lost claws in hunting accidents before, and they always regrow; how long this takes is up to the DM.
Last edited:
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