Savage Tide! (Recruiting Closed, Players Selected!)
- Thread starter Malvoisin
- Start date
) so I cannot get to them until Monday. I will clean them up and post again then!
Ok, I really would love to get in on this Adventure Path. I ran about half of the first one before schedules started conflictin and made it through the first third of the second one before my group fell apart.
I'm thinking a Human Shugenja (Water Elemental Focus), possibly from the far side of the world, recently ship wrecked, trying to start anew, with an unknonw back ground as to why he's so far from home.
Let me know if you need more.
I'm thinking a Human Shugenja (Water Elemental Focus), possibly from the far side of the world, recently ship wrecked, trying to start anew, with an unknonw back ground as to why he's so far from home.
Let me know if you need more.
Vakra Quinn
Vakra Quinn is an angry soul, quietly seething in his resentment of the human and elven societies which both cast him as an outsider. While he resents members of both races, he hates himself more still. He struggles to prove his worth, and through doing so, to Champion the cause of the Half-Elf, a distinct race worthy of respect and a place in society.
Quinn wields a longword or casts the raw magic at his command, his martial skill and magical aptitude both reflecting his elven birthright. His rage is most human. Quinn hides in the shadows looking for the best opportunity to strike, valuing success in battle more highly than honorable means.
“Stupid human. You think you know everything, as usual, you damned dirty ape.”
Vakra Quinn is an angry soul, quietly seething in his resentment of the human and elven societies which both cast him as an outsider. While he resents members of both races, he hates himself more still. He struggles to prove his worth, and through doing so, to Champion the cause of the Half-Elf, a distinct race worthy of respect and a place in society.
Quinn wields a longword or casts the raw magic at his command, his martial skill and magical aptitude both reflecting his elven birthright. His rage is most human. Quinn hides in the shadows looking for the best opportunity to strike, valuing success in battle more highly than honorable means.
“Stupid human. You think you know everything, as usual, you damned dirty ape.”
hafrogman
Adventurer
Human Dragon Shaman (Bronze Dragon)
Ye gads I can be overly verbose. Ah well, here is my story for my character concept. I hope you don't mind I took a few liberties here and there. I assumed the overall adventure path plot would be the same as the last two and the world would require saving eventually
[sblock=background]To the south there lies a small island, far away from any other land. On the island is a single village, isolated people living simple lives, fishing and gathering food from the jungle. On the far side of the island, lie the rocky cliffs of the Storm Serpents. The storm serpents are huge, scaled creatures of the waves, ferocious and terrifying, and yet seemingly benevolent. They are protectors of the island and its people, but they remain apart, only appearing when they wish to, and never speaking although their behavior shows them to be highly intelligent. They are worshipped by the people, who travel through the jungle to leave offerings at the top of the cliffs.
Highest amongst the people are the Shaman, those who's lives have been touched by the serpents. Those brave enough to stand in their presence, and favored enough to have seen them enough to learn their ways. They serve as the connection between the people and the serpents, interpreting their wishes and guiding the people.
This is the way it has been for countless generations. But a century ago, ships began arriving at the island bringing new people and change. New trade, new routes and a small island caught in the middle, the perfect place to stop for fresh water and food. It has brought prosperity to the island, but not without a price. Since the first ships arrived, the serpents have not been seen. . . except by me.
My grandfather was the last of the shaman, ancient and wise, he stood in the presence of the storm serpents when he was still but a boy. Since the serpents left, no new shaman have arisen. The old ways are fading, and new blood seeks to challenge the them for supremacy. With the fall of the shaman, the merchants have risen to supremacy. Those among us who abandon the old ways and use the newcomers to gain wealth and power. My grandfather has tried to maintain influence among the villagers, but he is old and tired and few listen to him. The merchants claim that the serpents have abandoned us, and that we should forget them in turn. When I was still a boy, the conflict came to a head. Their leader, Gharon argued with my grandfather and then struck him down. The blow was not terrible, but the insult was, and I could tell that it had destroyed my grandfather's spirit.
That night, I snuck away from the village and walked alone through the jungle to the cliffs. There, I did as no one before and instead of remaining at the top, I climbed down the cliffs. I found caverns at the bottom, hidden among the waves and rocks. I crept inwards into the dark, seeking answers. Instead I found the last thing I ever expected. He was larger than any of the outlanders sailing ships, deep bronze in color and the most incredible thing I have ever witnessed. I was a twelve year old boy, barefoot in the darkness staring into the eyes of my god. . . and I exploded with wrath.
I yelled, I swore, I demanded answers. I stood facing a creature large enough to swallow me whole and I felt no fear. He looked at me in silence and I railed against him. Eventually I wore myself out and sank to the cavern floor sobbing. The storm serpent stared into my eyes and spoke to me.
"I am truly sorry, child, for what has become of your people. But know that my kind could not remain here while the trade winds blow so many men upon your shores. When it was your kind and mine we had our peace and our privacy, but now we must find another place."
I stood stunned into silence at being the first of the villagers to be granted the boon of being spoken to by the Storm Serpents. Eventually I recovered myself and we spoke at length that night, of change and the world beyond the island and what was to become of my people. He had only returned to remove the last evidence of their presence, and tommorrow he would leave as well. He told me that perhaps one day, after the trade ships were gone, that his kind might return to the island, but that would be long after my time had passed. I drifted into sleep in the cavern, talking to the last of the Storm Serpents. When I awoke I was lying just outside the village, had I dreamed it all? No, I was sure it was real.
I rushed into the village to tell the people that I had seen the Storm Serpent, but the laughed and cuffed me and accused me of lying to save my grandfather's pride. Even my grandfather himself seemed doubtful, but when he looked into my eyes as I spoke he knew the truth. From that moment onwards he trained me to be the last shaman.
The people may not follow us, but we still exist to aid them. The serpents may no long remain, but we still exist to serve them.
The day my grandfather died, I carried his body to the cliffs and set him upon a pyre there, as the wind and flames carried his spirit into the far distance, after the serpents. when I returned home there was an outland ship docked. The captain came ashore with his men. That night he sought me out and handed me a sealed letter, saying a strange man in a distant port had paid him to deliver it. Curious, I read the letter . . . it confounded me to no end. Not from any man at all, but from things it mentioned it had to be from the Storm Serpent. The letter spoke of dark times to come, and an evil wind blowing that would spell doom for my people and the world at large. It bade me perform one last service for the Storm Serpents. I was to travel into the world at large and do what I could to stem the tide. He could give me no further guidance on my path, but said that it would find me in time. The next day when the outlander ship left the island. . . I was on board.[/sblock]
Ye gads I can be overly verbose. Ah well, here is my story for my character concept. I hope you don't mind I took a few liberties here and there. I assumed the overall adventure path plot would be the same as the last two and the world would require saving eventually
[sblock=background]To the south there lies a small island, far away from any other land. On the island is a single village, isolated people living simple lives, fishing and gathering food from the jungle. On the far side of the island, lie the rocky cliffs of the Storm Serpents. The storm serpents are huge, scaled creatures of the waves, ferocious and terrifying, and yet seemingly benevolent. They are protectors of the island and its people, but they remain apart, only appearing when they wish to, and never speaking although their behavior shows them to be highly intelligent. They are worshipped by the people, who travel through the jungle to leave offerings at the top of the cliffs.
Highest amongst the people are the Shaman, those who's lives have been touched by the serpents. Those brave enough to stand in their presence, and favored enough to have seen them enough to learn their ways. They serve as the connection between the people and the serpents, interpreting their wishes and guiding the people.
This is the way it has been for countless generations. But a century ago, ships began arriving at the island bringing new people and change. New trade, new routes and a small island caught in the middle, the perfect place to stop for fresh water and food. It has brought prosperity to the island, but not without a price. Since the first ships arrived, the serpents have not been seen. . . except by me.
My grandfather was the last of the shaman, ancient and wise, he stood in the presence of the storm serpents when he was still but a boy. Since the serpents left, no new shaman have arisen. The old ways are fading, and new blood seeks to challenge the them for supremacy. With the fall of the shaman, the merchants have risen to supremacy. Those among us who abandon the old ways and use the newcomers to gain wealth and power. My grandfather has tried to maintain influence among the villagers, but he is old and tired and few listen to him. The merchants claim that the serpents have abandoned us, and that we should forget them in turn. When I was still a boy, the conflict came to a head. Their leader, Gharon argued with my grandfather and then struck him down. The blow was not terrible, but the insult was, and I could tell that it had destroyed my grandfather's spirit.
That night, I snuck away from the village and walked alone through the jungle to the cliffs. There, I did as no one before and instead of remaining at the top, I climbed down the cliffs. I found caverns at the bottom, hidden among the waves and rocks. I crept inwards into the dark, seeking answers. Instead I found the last thing I ever expected. He was larger than any of the outlanders sailing ships, deep bronze in color and the most incredible thing I have ever witnessed. I was a twelve year old boy, barefoot in the darkness staring into the eyes of my god. . . and I exploded with wrath.
I yelled, I swore, I demanded answers. I stood facing a creature large enough to swallow me whole and I felt no fear. He looked at me in silence and I railed against him. Eventually I wore myself out and sank to the cavern floor sobbing. The storm serpent stared into my eyes and spoke to me.
"I am truly sorry, child, for what has become of your people. But know that my kind could not remain here while the trade winds blow so many men upon your shores. When it was your kind and mine we had our peace and our privacy, but now we must find another place."
I stood stunned into silence at being the first of the villagers to be granted the boon of being spoken to by the Storm Serpents. Eventually I recovered myself and we spoke at length that night, of change and the world beyond the island and what was to become of my people. He had only returned to remove the last evidence of their presence, and tommorrow he would leave as well. He told me that perhaps one day, after the trade ships were gone, that his kind might return to the island, but that would be long after my time had passed. I drifted into sleep in the cavern, talking to the last of the Storm Serpents. When I awoke I was lying just outside the village, had I dreamed it all? No, I was sure it was real.
I rushed into the village to tell the people that I had seen the Storm Serpent, but the laughed and cuffed me and accused me of lying to save my grandfather's pride. Even my grandfather himself seemed doubtful, but when he looked into my eyes as I spoke he knew the truth. From that moment onwards he trained me to be the last shaman.
The people may not follow us, but we still exist to aid them. The serpents may no long remain, but we still exist to serve them.
The day my grandfather died, I carried his body to the cliffs and set him upon a pyre there, as the wind and flames carried his spirit into the far distance, after the serpents. when I returned home there was an outland ship docked. The captain came ashore with his men. That night he sought me out and handed me a sealed letter, saying a strange man in a distant port had paid him to deliver it. Curious, I read the letter . . . it confounded me to no end. Not from any man at all, but from things it mentioned it had to be from the Storm Serpent. The letter spoke of dark times to come, and an evil wind blowing that would spell doom for my people and the world at large. It bade me perform one last service for the Storm Serpents. I was to travel into the world at large and do what I could to stem the tide. He could give me no further guidance on my path, but said that it would find me in time. The next day when the outlander ship left the island. . . I was on board.[/sblock]
A'koss
Explorer
I've just been over to Paizo's site (worth checking out, they have an entire ST messageboard) and listening to some of James Jacob's comments there and on these boards and I have to say the Savage Tide AP is shaping up to very cool indeed. Even better than I was expecting... 
They definitely have an eye on cool locales, PC props, wee beasties and better eye on pacing than the previous APs. Should be a lot of fun.
They definitely have an eye on cool locales, PC props, wee beasties and better eye on pacing than the previous APs. Should be a lot of fun.
Malvoisin
First Post
hafrogman said:Human Dragon Shaman (Bronze Dragon)
Ye gads I can be overly verbose. Ah well, here is my story for my character concept. I hope you don't mind I took a few liberties here and there. I assumed the overall adventure path plot would be the same as the last two and the world would require saving eventually
Yeah, that's probably a safe assumption...
Tabbycatt
First Post
Character concept.. character concept.. *thinks* I've never played in a play by post before.. but I've been meaning to give it a try for quite some time... I've played regular table top for about five years now.. =3... Alright... still have a few days to think... *puts some Deep Thought into it...* Forgive the bad pun... >.>
Tabbycatt
First Post
A Half-Elf druid by the name of Irisa. I would like to use a few druid rule variants, including making her a spontaneous caster as well as giving up her wild shape abilities in exchange for ones that would make her a better hunter. I didn't intend to have such a detailed backstory already.. but it happened anyway.. enjoy! ^^;
[sblock=backstory]Irisa was abandoned at birth by her Elven mother who left the mewling infant deep in the forest to fend for herself. Perhaps it was luck or the work of divine intervention but before any harm could befall the babe a wandering druid of Obad-Hai stumbled across her path.
- - -
Jared Narin had been living alone in these woods for many long years, enjoying the solitary and quiet life of a hermit where he could commune with his god in peace. Traversing familiar trails and winding his way easily through the thick forest foliage he gave pause at a set of humanoid footprints in the loamy soil laid out before him. His first thought was to avoid the tracks all together, to continue following the unmarked trail back to his ramshackle hut, but after a few moments of quiet contemplation a uncharacteristic feeling of curiosity got the better of him and he soon found himself on the hunt.
The tracks led him deep into the woods and it appeared as if whatever had made them was traveling slowly and possibly injured. After near a half hour hike the trail stopped in a small clearing where it appeared that a small scuffle took place with the injured creature was nowhere insight. He moved in closer to better examine the scene of the ‘fight’ where already he could tell a fair amount of blood had been spilled. As he approached a soft cry sent chills down his spine causing the little hairs to rise on the back of his neck. “Surely it couldn’t be…” He strained to listen and it wasn’t long before he caught the sound again coming from behind a large oak at the edge of the clearing. He held his breath as he hesitantly circled the base of the tree and found what he had feared. Lying on the ground and surely only a few hours old was a helpless infant, fallen oak leaves acted as swaddling clothes clinging to the afterbirth still present on the child. Jared took a step back and scanned the tree line hoping that he would see the mother returning to claim her child. He waited nearly an hour, but she never came. Stroking his long beard nervously he looked down to the newborn and firmed his resolve. With old and gnarled hands he stooped down and gently picked her up, cradling her in his arms. He quietly looked her over, a small tuft of red hair clung damply to her scalp and two bright blue eyes stared fuzzily up at her rescuer. From the looks of her ears she appeared to be a half-breed. “What mess did this old fool get himself into now?” Shaking his head he turned and left without another word.
- - -
He named her Irisa, Irisa Narin after his own mother long since departed from this plane. He taught her the things he knew, of plants and animals, how to hunt and survive on what the forest provided them. She was a happy child and eager to learn all that he could teach her, absorbing the knowledge like a sponge. She was a joy to have around, but he knew it wouldn’t last forever.
The druid was already an elderly man upon finding little Irisa and he didn’t long survive her reaching adulthood. Upon his passing she made the difficult decision to venture outside of her forest home, perhaps see this thing called an ocean that Jared said lay to the <appropriate direction of the ocean nearest to where the adventure will take place>. She gathered her staff, called her wolf Malcom to her side and prepared to set off on the first adventure of her young life.
[/sblock]
[sblock=backstory]Irisa was abandoned at birth by her Elven mother who left the mewling infant deep in the forest to fend for herself. Perhaps it was luck or the work of divine intervention but before any harm could befall the babe a wandering druid of Obad-Hai stumbled across her path.
- - -
Jared Narin had been living alone in these woods for many long years, enjoying the solitary and quiet life of a hermit where he could commune with his god in peace. Traversing familiar trails and winding his way easily through the thick forest foliage he gave pause at a set of humanoid footprints in the loamy soil laid out before him. His first thought was to avoid the tracks all together, to continue following the unmarked trail back to his ramshackle hut, but after a few moments of quiet contemplation a uncharacteristic feeling of curiosity got the better of him and he soon found himself on the hunt.
The tracks led him deep into the woods and it appeared as if whatever had made them was traveling slowly and possibly injured. After near a half hour hike the trail stopped in a small clearing where it appeared that a small scuffle took place with the injured creature was nowhere insight. He moved in closer to better examine the scene of the ‘fight’ where already he could tell a fair amount of blood had been spilled. As he approached a soft cry sent chills down his spine causing the little hairs to rise on the back of his neck. “Surely it couldn’t be…” He strained to listen and it wasn’t long before he caught the sound again coming from behind a large oak at the edge of the clearing. He held his breath as he hesitantly circled the base of the tree and found what he had feared. Lying on the ground and surely only a few hours old was a helpless infant, fallen oak leaves acted as swaddling clothes clinging to the afterbirth still present on the child. Jared took a step back and scanned the tree line hoping that he would see the mother returning to claim her child. He waited nearly an hour, but she never came. Stroking his long beard nervously he looked down to the newborn and firmed his resolve. With old and gnarled hands he stooped down and gently picked her up, cradling her in his arms. He quietly looked her over, a small tuft of red hair clung damply to her scalp and two bright blue eyes stared fuzzily up at her rescuer. From the looks of her ears she appeared to be a half-breed. “What mess did this old fool get himself into now?” Shaking his head he turned and left without another word.
- - -
He named her Irisa, Irisa Narin after his own mother long since departed from this plane. He taught her the things he knew, of plants and animals, how to hunt and survive on what the forest provided them. She was a happy child and eager to learn all that he could teach her, absorbing the knowledge like a sponge. She was a joy to have around, but he knew it wouldn’t last forever.
The druid was already an elderly man upon finding little Irisa and he didn’t long survive her reaching adulthood. Upon his passing she made the difficult decision to venture outside of her forest home, perhaps see this thing called an ocean that Jared said lay to the <appropriate direction of the ocean nearest to where the adventure will take place>. She gathered her staff, called her wolf Malcom to her side and prepared to set off on the first adventure of her young life.
[/sblock]
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