As a long term player in these campaigns...
These are roleplay and character development heavy games. A good character concept is pretty important to have in mind before you begin play, and will help cement you into the groups.
Whilst the groups are all mostly 'good guys', they are also 'rough diamonds' so it is not expected that you have to be a Saint, and indeed in the Second Darkness campaign you could almost get away with being a bit of a scumbag.
Heart of Riddles So we need at least a frontline fighter type for Second Darkness, and possibly one other to fit in with a 'roguey' (well has a Bard and a Rogue, and the Witch is shady too) party. With a decent meatshield sourced, we'd have a spot for a just about anything - but its Saints and Sinners in that group.
Heart of Light IS what ZZ says, Epic and Gothic. Roleplay heavy indeed, we have Knights, Knaves and Courtiers all set in a place so nasty I wonder if we are in a new part of Ravenloft.
Heart of Darkness, also dark content, but generally the characters have hearts of gold... just a bit tarnished. Lots of halflings. halflings everywhere. Unsure how that happened. They multiply like lint. Would really love a strong healer.
"WHUUUUHHHHHH.",the breath fills my lungs in a great gasp as my eyes snap wide open. Scrambling to my feet in an effort to regain my fighting stance for a foe who just moments ago had landed upon ma back as I attmpted to tend to that poor girl and drove my head into the stream next to the dead girls body, I find it difficult to get my bearings. My armor and the beast immense strength made it difficult to get my head above the surface, but I managed to swing my spiked elbow back making contact with the stinking fiends thigh. I could hear the howl of rage even with my ears muffled by helm and water.
As I raised my head to draw in that sweet breath....it..struck..me. I realize this and immediately my hand moved my neck expecting to find the gash it had found before the world went black, but when I draw it back there is nothing there and again there is nothing but blackness. My mind is a rush of thoughts and I still find myself wanting to fight a non-existent foe and a sense of dread begins to creep in. "By Torag's arm where have I landed.",I shout, but there is only silence. No echo returns to my ears as it does when one is below the surface of the world. Only silence fills my ears and fill them it does with the crushing power of its overwhelming assualt on my senses.
As I began feel the whirlwind spirl of my mind beginning to bend, my hand brushed my tunic and the holy emblem emblazoned upon it. Suddenly, I began to feel the calm return and the my training in the planes began to come back to me. "I must have fallen to the hand of that thing.",I thought to myself or maybe I said aloud, but the silence robbed me of any sense of what was sound or what was thought. As I ran over the events which landed me in such a foul predicament a small speck of light broke the darkness.
Turning toward this miraculous appearence, I instantly knew where I was and the test that was to come. As a member of "Pharasma's Farmers," more than one of us had been given a second chance at life after falling upon the field of honor. We were the one's tasked with the clearing of undead from the battlefields, a task we were never bested at. But, such a task was always difficult as one would be forced to kill again those they had killed and, far worse, those kinsmen whom had fallen at your side.
Knowing the stories some of the order's brothers had brought back from the abyss, I will now stand before that foul judge they spoke of and her dark elf avatar. Steeling myself for the coming battle of wills,I stomped off toward that now less inviting light and the darkness it would hold.
White silvery hair flows around the beautiful, yet fragile maiden's face.
Her naked body promises everything you ever dreamt of, but you know only too well that this promise is indeed a deadly one.
With a voice that makes you think of honey pouring over a polished tankard , she adresses you
How nice, a representative of the bearded folk. I'm in the mood for playing today, so now is your one and only chance to persuade me not to take delight in torturing you for a millenium or two...
Upon reaching the stand the fiend's image and ords immediately began to assualt my mind filling my heart with the most unholy of lust and foul deed. Even as I attempted to divert my eyes and shut out her words, I found they did not orginate outside of my own head, but from within. Again, only by the strength of my faith and the boundless strength of my god was I able weather this storm. I steadied myself and thought carefully about the response I was to give negotiations with the gatekeepers was more perilous than fighting ogre vampires and the results of failure far more horrid.
"You need attempt to tempt me with the body of some stinking drow, fiend. Men and elves may desire such things, but not a dwarf. And ah'll be no part o' any of yer games, either.",I say in the most confident voice I can muster while noticing what appears to be a small beard begin to shape the drows face in a more desireable form to dwarven sensiblities. I again cast these thoughts frommy mind as I realizethe gravity of this situation is far graver than I had ever suspected.
"I bring ya more business 'an most,I'd reckon, and on that merit I'd say we'd be even. But, I'm sure you have other ideas,so out wit and we'll get this thing handled.", I say hoping I am right and knowing I am wrong.
You are going to send me souls? That's a nice attempt, I'm used to flattery and begging, but a deal...not bad. But, on the other hand, you're a dwarf, I should have known you were going to close a bargain. So, about how many souls in what period do we speak?
"As one of "Phrasma's Farmers" I know your till 'ill be full soon enough. I send you the one's who finds a way around your judgement and just take what you give. I'll not be makin' o' any deals with the likes of yourself, but I can assure ya that I will send each everyone of them which escape your "deals" back to ya in short order. The which landed me here wit' you 'll be the first on my list.", I say being sure not violate my vows as a sacred warrior.
I was pretty sure that was what we were going for,lol. I used to play 2nd ed. and that was the way we did it back then, so I assumed it would be so here also. You said epic, but those score would be a bit much,haha!
A mud caked figure stumbles out of the darkness toward the stall, obviously drunk and roaring angrily "Where are ya, ya yellow bellied bastard? Throwing t'ground at a man just ain't on, should fight like a proper man." while trying furiously to clear the mud from his face and defend himself against some perceived foe at the same time.
Finally managing to get some semblance of sight returned, the filthy figure stumbles to a halt and gapes terrified at his surroundings, hands dropping to his sides and his shoulders hunching up in terror. His voice, when it next comes is a hoarse whisper filled with none of the bluster or confidence of a moment before. "Oh bloody hell Corvax you daft pillock, your in hell ain't ya? Really gotta stop drinking and starting fights with shady blokes in pubs. Bet 'e was some kind of sorcerer, dumped me soul straight out through me bum and into this 'orrible place."
Shuffling around on the spot, Corvax ends up facing an odd sight for hell.Cor, a stall like they sell pies from in the market, only with a tasty looking elf bird stark b~!*%~& naked behind it. Maybe hell ain't that bad? Or maybe, just mebe this ain't hell? Still moving slowly and cautiously, Corvax shuffles up to the stall, arriving next to the dwarf who appears to be having some kind of argument with the naked elf lady and clearing his throat before asking her his question as polite as he can.
"Scuse me love, can't help noticing that your stark b~~~*!~ naked and I was wondering if you was one of the them Sucky buses that old Fred tole me to keep away from or an angle and 'eaven ain't quite what I thought it was?
Amused the drow arches one eybrow and clicks her fingers...a puff of purple smoke engulfs you and a moment later you are strapped inside a iron maiden and two giggling succubi are about to throw the doors shut.
You feel completely sober again and as the drow adresses you, you have the feeling to lose yourself in her black eyes.
Now did you rather expect something like this to happen? This dwarf here was just about to tell me, he would send me souls like yours in exchange for his miserable life, so what do you have to offer?
Dark and empty! Where am I?...
Thought and reason slide across his mind like the smoke that drifts everywhere around him. The stench of char and the unholy vapors of this realm assault his senses as he begins to recall those last few seconds of his life.
...I had just received a fat purse for taking care of that little problem for Lady Jefra. An overzealous lover that was threatening exposure to her dear husband. That kind of trouble would ruin his standing with the council...I took a shortcut down One Cart Lane. Well named that street; too narrow for even one cart Id say. I shouldve known it was all too good to be true and when that oaf with the sunken knuckles stepped out of the shadows I was too sure of my skill. Too sure to even notice what mustve been a second thug that easily slid his steel between my ribs. Darkness closed way too quick...
I was a damn fool...well dwelling on the past is a mistake. Im moving forward. This way is as good as any other I reckon.
He walked for what seemed an eternity...my punishment perhaps? to walk until my boots melt on this steeeming pile of rocks and my feet are gnawed away to stubs...not me!..
Then he saw it. A wooden dais with what appeared to be a judges chair and a beautiful drow woman waiting with what could only be the patience of the long living as she sat with air of dominance. He'd seen her before. In dreams and discussions that only the darkest of madmen had. He braced himself as he approached and resisgted the urge to draw steel and slice this b!tch down.
You again? We had a deal. I was promised glory, riches and long life for doing what you whispered in my fevered nightmares and so far Ive held up my end. What am I doing here?
Shifting her attention from the poor bugger in the iron maiden to the newcomer, the maiden's eyes take on a golden hue.
Awww, how cute, so you weren't able to survive, my Jack of Spades? I promised you to be my weapon master and you get yourself killed by a pair of thugs? Now what mercy do you expect from me, when you aren't able to simply survive, you puny insect.
Upon finishing the last sentence, her voice has become a booming roar which nearly slammed the doors of the iron maiden shut.
Corvax struggles for a few moments before slumping in his sudden new restraints. At the Drow's words he looks up and is transfixed by the black pools of her eyes. For some reason he feels slightly more calm while staring the elf in the face and his voice comes out conversational and with none of the fear it held before. "Augh..err..yes'm this would sum up what I was expecting, but if that shortarse dwarf thinks he could send you my soul 'e has another thing coming. I been scrapping since I could walk and I reckon I could take 'im no problem. I guess I kilt a few few people over the years but I wouldn't call it a steady stream. What I 'ave done is make a hell of a lot of people angry, pushed probly 'undreds if not thousands a little closer to you in my life. For example, just afore I ended up in this here predicament I started a bar fight that I reckon'll leave at least 30 odd people with a sore temper as well as sore knuckles. I ain't proud of it and any man who beats a woman deserves a right kicking but I guarantee at least one of those angry blokes went 'ome and took out 'is frustrations on 'is wife or a whore."
Without looking at Corvax, the drow mistress clicks her fingers again and the iron maiden vanishes.
Now, hero of the booze, why don't you tell the dwarf and this overly self-confident individual over there, what you think about them? I'm tired of listening to your tirades...
Buffeted by the vehement tirade; Kabal took a small step back and almost rached for his blade. An action that he knew would help him naught. He'd tried countless times to cut her down before during his nightmares and each every time he'd wake wracked in pain and spend days coughing blood and sweating before being able to rise from bed.
He didnt even notice the man nor the one in the iron maiden. She often lashed out at him in front of other...subjects. Jaw grinding; he spit to the side and prepared to roll the dice yet again.
Mistress, I admit I was a fool. I was drunk with satisfaction and blind with ego. But those were no ordinary thugs. They were assassins. Its the only way I wasnt aware of them before it was too late. This mistake wont happen again. You know Im meant for greater things and Ive dedicated myself to your desires and to becoming the weapon of your will. You will find no other like me. Now send me back and unleash me against your enemies.
Chest swelled and arms crossed, he stood as proud as he could knowing that with just a thought he would be crushed like the insect she refered to him as.
She looks over to you and nods approvingly
Very good, you found your wits at last...and your position. But I have to disappoint you, you had your chance to become my weapon, now I will just choose some souls that won't have the pleasure to experience my cunning in all matters of eternal torture. And you still haven't told me anything that would persuade me, my mercy was best bestowed on you.
Corvax falls in a heap on the ground, not at all ready for the abrupt disappearance of the iron maiden. He struggles to his feet and strides over to the newcomer, his brash confidence returning with each step, determined to prove to the creepy elf that he deserved to return to life.
He stalks a circle around the dark haired man, taking in the strange blade, pristine armour and generally clean appearance.
Still covered in mud and entirely weaponless, Corvax squares up in front of the man, jaw jutting and roaring his description from about 6 inches from in front of his nose.
"We-ell, looks like a bit of ponce to me. Armour doesn't look like its ever seen a days use and I 'ave no idea what is going on with that butter knife on 'is back, gimme a good axe and I reckon I could take 'im to the cleaners. As for all that promises b%!%+~@s, a man should earn 'is own way, not get some demon tart (beggin' your pardon ma'am) to do it for 'im. So, in conclusion 'e is a lazy bugger who blames others for 'is own mistakes."
Heart of Darkness Application - Holy Healer
"Now I've heard it told that only thieves and charlatans take your money and run. But I've never heard of a man who heals a deathly sick girl, accepts no coin for the mercy then steals that same amount not ten minutes later simply to loose it all at a card table not feet away. Either you are irrevocably cursed or the happiest man I have ever put behind irons."
-Sheriff Balor Hemlock of Sandpoint
Aesoph Faine
Character concept: A wandering cleric who has as much virtue as vice. A medicine man and occasional trickster blessed with the gift of healing and a wild streak of fickle luck. Aesoph is merry human, who lives in the moment and plays every day like a hand of burning cards. He rarely shows animosity or anger, simply believing fortune and friendship will grant him another boon should he be open enough to meet the opportunity with a grin.
Domains: Travel & Trickery or Healing / Party Applicable
Fleshed out background: Faine is an opportunist who was given to the church of of Abadar in a basket as a babe. Whatever parents the boy may have had they were surely wild devils, as his tutors thought him born from the Chelish town of Senara, ripe with Tieflings. He caused the priests no end of inventive incidents that had him stripped of his robes but he since he was already naked found under bath bubbles with the archbishop's niece it wasn't to much of problem to leave.
Aesoph fell into the life of a wanderer without problem, getting used to waking in haystacks and running from pitchforked armed mobs like another would learn to tie their booties. They say he was from Stavian’s Hold but all Faine might do is wink at the thought of his blood being Taldorian. He is motivated by excitement, challenge and having an enjoyable time with friends and enemies alike, he's not fussy.
Take care.
Focusing on the man with the big mouth for a moment...how many have wished to prove themselves in this way?.. He'd only been goaded into one fight this way and the look on his brothers face as his life slipped away with the steady stream of blood down his chest was...priceless.
Bring it, dont sing it little man. Do you really think you can prove yourself to her through me? You have much to learn.
Still as stone he looked back to the temptress and rechecked his previous assessment. With dignity and eyes downcast, Kabal takes a knee before his mistress.
I have shed blood for you that you could bathe in for many years to come and in such a way to keep it warm just as long. You would throw away one such as me over one instance of ineptness? I am not a smart man my Lady but I know you wouldnt wastes an asset such as my sword or my resolve. You mercy has been as much a blessing as your disappointment has been a suffering. I welcome both. Unleash me again and exhalt in the hordes of souls and river of blood I will send to you.
"You will not take her! Amun yells as he jumps to his feet, prepared to strike back at his mother's assailant. Instantly, he realizes he is not in his mother's house, there is no assailant, and he is dead. "By the Master, I have failed her. I am sorry, mother. I am so sorry." He says a small prayer, asking forgiveness for his imperfection, protection for his mother and retribution for her attacker - or, as was more likely - her killer.
Upon finishing his words, he takes in his surroundings. He looks down at his chest, expecting to see the wound from the bastard's sword. He is whole. He looks at his right hand - it is still attached to his body. He reaches up towards his neck - there is no slice where the dagger ended his life.
Rather than relief or joy, he begins to feel fear. This is not the afterlife he expected. He is still corporeal. He is not with the Master.
Stumbling forward, he turns his eyes towards a light. There are others gathered around what looks to be a pulpit. He makes his way towards the gathering and is greeted by the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on. Feelings stir in him that he has trained to suppress. He realizes that she is in charge of the proceedings. He stands back, waiting to be addressed by the Drow.
"Now if mama Faine knew my last ticket would be punched here, I might have taken a few more interesting people with me. Why did you kill you best friend? Because he's the best mandolin player I know mama.. that's why."
Aesoph lit a cigarette and watched the display of servitude.
"Drow like it when you lick their boots.. gets them going, but I shouldn't know that from experience, should I."
He stopped to shake off the match,staring up at the Abyss.
"Break the colt with some self respecting spirit left, at least that way your hunt would be a challenge."
The man's eyes slept with mild disdain but a sharp smile still pressed through.
With the apathy of a man condemned and no power to change his fate...she's already made up her mind. I could talk for hours and not change her mind either way...gods know Ive tried that before...all to no avail...Kabal stands up and takes a long look around and speaks to the mud covered man again.
Looks like a party and we weren't fashionably late. Seems our hostess has quite the ensemble here. Dark conspiracy to bring all of this about.
Im beginning to think that attack in the alley wasnt chance at all...
"Oh I don't want to prove anythin' through you mate, yon mistress just wanted me to describe ya as I found ya and that I 'ave done. You go off on ya merry murderin' way, evil sounding bastard that ya are."
Corvax moves aside when the other man kneels and grins a mud spattered grin as he listens to the outpouring of flowery language.
"I ain't the sharpest blade on the rack by any stretch o the imagination, but even I know 'ow risky deals wit devils are. Here you stand 'aving made one deal and failed in your part of it and asking for another? You must be thick as s&@*e or 'ave balls the size of me head. Either way I 'ave some new found respec' for you son."
He gives the dark haired man a hearty slap on the back, leaving a muddy hand print on his pristine armour.
hahaha!
A grudging respect developed for blunt, muddy man.
Id probaly qualify for both thick in the skull and too brazen for my own good man. Either of which landed me in this hellhole. Seems Ive had no choice but to do with her since as long as I could remember. Some crap about a promise 'my sons soul for eternal happiness'...I hope that b!tch is rotting now...
Im Kabal. What do you think landed you here?
He extends his hand.
Corvax's grin broadens as he begins to realise this man ain't so bad after all. "Aaaaah, so it weren't you who made the first deal? I am liking you more and more by the minute my Ballsy chum."
He wipes his muddy hand on his leg, completely failing to make it any cleaner before taking Kabal's and shaking it vigourously.
"M'names Corvax and I reckon it was my liking of a brawl that landed me 'ere. Shady looking bloke in the pub took me drink and I took a swing at 'im. Next thing I know it feels like someone dropped t'moon on me, everything goes black and I'm down 'ere talking to her creepiness over there. I reckon 'e was one o' them saucer blokes and he hexed me soul straight out of me body."
Glancing at the increasing crowd of people around the naked Drow, Corvax lets go of Kabal's hand and moves around to stand beside him, speaking low enough that it'd be hard for anyone else to make out his words.
= 9
= 9
= 15
= 17
= 17
= 18
Oh blimey I now really want to get into HOL.
Hawking up and spitting out a brown chunk of phlem, Kabal regards the others gathering warily. Anything but the beauty of her flesh...she's offered that proverbial carrot too many times...and let fantasies of just how delicious it would be invade even my waking world...
Dark and empty but the air here could drive a man mad if he wasn't already so. A curse you say? That just aint right to do in a bar brawl. You could seek vengeance. She likes that. But we could beg and plead Corvax or we could make promises on our sons souls. We could cut each other up for her enjoyment or curse and threaten her. She's heard it all before but Id guess that she's already made up her mind on what she'll do with us and each every one of us will be more than willing to do just as she asks.
...Light send Id even be willing to seek redemption if thats what she wished...
Overhearing the mud-covered man and armored fighter's conversation, he quietly says to them, "You speak as if you've been here before. Where is...here? And how do you know who she is? Does she have the unspoken power to restore our mortality? Or is she simply here to determine the nature and form of our eternal torment?"
Corvax's face creases into a frown at Kabal's words and he folds his beefy arms defensively across his chest. "Well grand, so we're to be 'er peforming monkeys are we? Don't reckon I want t'be that, so I'm gonna make meself a bit more comfortable right here and see how this whole fecking mess plays out."
He glances up at the newcomer and sighs at his question.
"Yer in hell mate, and I have no bleeding idea who her nibs is, but Kabal here 'as been under 'er spell since he was wee by the sound of it. She says she can bring us back ta life bu' looks like y'come back 'er plaything and even then I ain't sure we got much choice over coming back or nae."
A brute of a man, covered in chain links, his hand in front of his face to ward off a great light, stumbles out of nothingness into the arid heat. He lowers his hand, looking about himself and shock and disbelief. Seeing the group gathered by the strange hut, he unlimbers his flail and raises his shield. When nobody attacks him, he shrugs and puts his stuff away again.
Strolling up, he comments, "Okay, not the strangest dream ever, but pretty close. The naked elf is a good touch, though not sure what's up with the weird skin colour. Are we waiting our turns or do we just go on in the hut thing?"
Hey there. This is Garabbott's friend, and I'm finally able to post. I've read a bit about Heart of Darkness, and thinking a healing focus character. Probably a cleric of Sarenrae (I'll sure miss the sun).
I've a familiarity with Golarion and pathfinder, and have GM'd myself a few times. But I am very new to PhB, but am looking forward to picking it up. I don't move around too much, and have both a computer and internet, so I'll be able to check and post every day.
So, to start things off, I'll be making some ability score rolls here:
= 16
= 13
= 11
= 10
= 12
Total is 68. Garabbott tells me that doesn't hit your minimum. Finger's crossed.
= 4
= 11
= 11
= 12
= 10
= 11
Total is even less. Not my lucky day. Another go.
Total is 74. Just under. Here we go again...
14
16
12
13
9
11
Exactly 75. Oh, joy. I'll get the character made up in a jiffy.
Amun struggles to understand the muddy man's accent. "You speak strangely. Is that how all speak where you live…lived?"
Turning to the armor-clad newcomer, Amun says, "This is no dream. According to this muddy fellow we are in hell. I don't know if he speaks truthfully, but I know that you are not dreaming. I believe some of the others have spoken with the woman, but I am awaiting my turn."
"Sorry mate, s'what comes of being born where I was and getting smacked on the 'ead a lot when I were small. The name is Corvax by t' way, pleased ta meet'cha."
Corvax nods his head emphatically in agreement with Amun's description of their situation up until the point he questions the truthfulness of Corvax's own words, at which point he stops nodding and gives the back of Amun's head a dirty look before opening his loud mouth yet again "Definitely hell chum, not five minutes ago yon dark skinned lass clicked 'er fingers and I was trussed up tighter than a magistrate's bunghole in one of those cupboards with loads a spikes on t'inside and she was gonna shut the door an all. Can't see that 'appening anywhere but 'ell. 'ell or one of them funny clubs with all whips and leather and spiky bits of metal."
Hell? You mean, I'm dead? Well that sucks."
He looks thoughtful for a moment, then exclaims, "Fish balls! That means I got taken out by some wizard chick! Oh no. No f&$?@$ way! I gotta get back somehow. I can't go down to some loser book nerd!"
Grigori, sitting cross-legged with his hands on his knees, blinks many times as he slowly opens his eyes. He pauses, taking in his surroundings, first moving just his eyes, then his head, before finishing by turning his upper body to each side as he gazes about.
This is too clear to be a dreaming state, where are my personal markers?
Standing he begins to dust himself off, habit borne of dreamwalking while sitting on the ground, but realizes that the earth around him does not seem to cling to him. The voluminous tan shirt he wears hangs dully on him, as the tails from both his bandanna and the sash about his waist lay limply at his nape and thigh respectively. As they normally always twitch ever so lightly, even in times of the calmest of winds, leads him to notice the utter lack of natural breeze at all.
Grigori much more closely studies the environment in which he now finds himself, squinting lightly in suspicion.
Well, I am unable to ask the world to give me vision. There are no birds, no sand or earthen patterns, not even signs of beast from which I can read the entrails. Why do I always dreamwalk without my deck?
As soon as he considers the reading of spilled entrails, the barren landscape appears to have conjured previously unnoticed occupants from nowhere. There appears to be, off to his back left, a small stand like that of a vendor. The stand is encircled by a group of individuals, that all seem to be sharing a discussion. Warily, Grigori approaches the group hoping they are misplaced like he is, and not the denizens of his newfound environs fond of human flesh. He clears his throat before speaking.
"Prevyet Tovarishi, I vould like dat you can tyell me vhere I am find mysyelf? Dis is not place dat I am ryecognizing. I yam not mean to intyerrupting, but is most disturbing, dis place." he implores, eyebrows raised in question.
Finding that the emptiness of this place is no longer so empty, Harl speaks up again in an effort to win his freedom,"I believe we still have some unfinished business, elf. You'll have plenty of time to fool with these other unfortunates in short order, but I again assure you that the flood of evil souls will be yours to do with as you please. I know you fall in line with my lord's plans and we're not all that different. Now if you'd be returning me to my work we both can get on with those in need of reapin'."
Turning to the others, Harl says,"Be careful what ya be promisin' her, boys. She will surely take whatever it is and more. Rare is the man who can come out ahead in a deal with a devil, or angel for that matter. Guard yer soul and hold to your faith whatever the outcome may be."
before i can apply, i need Zyren's input on the following characters
both of the following 2 are young girls
Luminiere Argence Solaras Dawnbringer II, female Haunted Aasimaar Oracle of life 4. airheaded goodie 2 shoes who obscesses over love and kindness. a pacifist at heart. will likely perform as both a healer and a potential face. intended for heart of darkness or heart of light as you see fit.
Umbriere Nera Nox Astrum Lunas Moonwhisper IV, female fetchling bard 4 the Manipulative Terminally Ill Neice of Baron Maximillian Moonwhisper, a weakling whom has difficulty engaging in just about any form of physical activity, despite being eternally afflicted with rare supernatural forms of Amemia, Asthma and Tuberculosis, she has managed to educate herself in various acedemic subjects due to books she read during her time locked down in complete bedrest, she secretly escaped to practice engaging in social activity on several occasions, and she eventually convinced her uncle to hire a dance teacher. she practiced various arcane spells that were manifested from her genetic connection to the plane of shadow. she could be used in the heart of either darkness or light, but would be preffered for light
or i could adapt and return Nox, i'm sure she'd have made it back from Alkenstar by now. and headmaster Dimitri Molotov could be seeking a whole new set of notes. she could be used in either heart of darkness or light as well, as you see fit. i haven't really touched the loremistresses sheet.
both of the following 2 are young girls
...now there's a change :s
both of the following 2 are young girls...now there's a change :s
Yes... how surprising.
After watching the poor souls struggle, curse and panic for a while, the drow nimbly steps into their midst and raises her index finger
This is getting tiresome...I have just finished a discussion with some of my mightier mininions and we have chosen some of you...I will keep the rest enslaved for now, but should I...at some point in the future...decide to send your souls also back to Avistan, you will get aware of that soon enough.
At first she points to Corvax...Your annoying linguistic underperformance didn't even improve after you became sober...I think I won't be able to stand that for the next two thousand years, so I send you to the Heart of Riddles.
Now to you, she says as she walks over to Kabal. Since you were already at such good terms with Corvax why don't you join him? Since your first performance was so disenthralling, I decided that a "partner" can only be an asset to your impotence. But beware, should I ever encounter you here again, I will tear your soul to shreds and piss on your grave.
Let's see, who is left? Ah yes, the ugly but courageous dwarf paladin of my old friend Torag. I decided to send such a pious pain in the ass right to mist shrouded Ustalav. Fight what you loathe or die trying.
And last but not least, I have decided to send two of you to the Heart of Darkness...these two will be Jink and Aesoph. I'm eager to see how such philanthropic souls will prevail in my children's homelands.
Well done guys, some great applications and people really took on the spirit of the recruiting thread... look forward to catching you in game!
i really miss playing with Zyren. i'm going to need someone to keep me in check and prevent me from unintentionally pissing off another group. i unintentionally tend to overemphasize on the wrong aspects of a character and overemphasizing these aspects tends to upset other players. i know that many of you wanted to kill my PCs several times before. but please, may we attempt to suppress our hostilities and work to slowly guide me into building more acceptable characters?
i really miss playing with Zyren. i'm going to need someone to keep me in check and prevent me from unintentionally pissing off another group. i unintentionally tend to overemphasize on the wrong aspects of a character and overemphasizing these aspects tends to upset other players. i know that many of you wanted to kill my PCs several times before. but please, may we attempt to suppress our hostilities and work to slowly guide me into building more acceptable characters?
It seems to me that the players of Tom's SD, especially Winter, tried very hard to make it clear what behaviors they did not appreciate in your character, Kira Moonsong and tried to steer you in another direction. You had Kira claim to want to change, but made no real change, constantly reverting back to propositioning men and even offering yourself freely as a form of punishment for your transgressions. Your confessions thread only emphasized, making it painfully clear, that these behaviors are not unintentional as you now claim. They are, in fact, your main focus for each of your characters and you delight in attempting to role play the fall from innocence in each of these young girls, usually through grotesque, abusive means.
i really want to get over that. i really don't want to replicate Kira Again.
and i really want to get over the fall from grace trope. it is starting to get old to me.
i have a few male aliases i would like to use as PBP characters if they are deemed more acceptable.
it's just that the site won't let me remove 90% of my young girl aliases. so i feel the compulsive need to push them somewhere.
i am tired of rehashing Shuriken (who finally got a pbp), kodachi, Lumi, Umbri, Shinko, Yamiko and Kira. i really want to try something new.
i just recently created a swarm of male aliases to show that
i really want to get over that. i really don't want to replicate Kira Again.
and i really want to get over the fall from grace trope. it is starting to get old to me.
i have a few male aliases i would like to use as PBP characters if they are deemed more acceptable.
it's just that the site won't let me remove 90% of my young girl aliases. so i feel the compulsive need to push them somewhere.
Well I sincerely hope that you do mean to change, and that perhaps someone will give you a second chance to play a new character.
If the site won't allow you to remove your young girl aliases, then perhaps you should change them instead. After all, if you can change then surely your fictional characters can too.
Start a fresh account?
Comes in without any excess baggage.