Black Dow, sorry to hear it. Don't feel too pressured by other's submissions, I'm no elitist...just after a good time more than amazing writing. Though I enjoy writing too.
No worries GMI - not really settling on a concept that "grabs me" creatively, was the key reason. However if things change I'll pitch something :)
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Kjeta Strongmalt grew up in Kubourg, to the West of Zobeck. Kubourg is notable among the dwarven communities in the Ironcrags, in that it isn’t near any rich mines; instead, it is a fertile valley where the finest hops and barley are grown and brewed into rich dwarven ales.
Kjeta was raised in a family of respected brewers, and relished her work. She had a gift for brewing beer (and enthusiasm for drinking it) that stood out, even among dwarves. Her life was going well, until a gang of selang (twisted satyrs) started making raids out of the Western Wastes to terrorize the hops farmers that surrounded Kubourg.
After several grizzly deaths, many farmers decided it was time to leave town, and others were holing up inside, letting their hops wither and die on their trellises.
Seeing farmers she care for die--and that the valley’s famous hops harvest was in jeopardy--Kjeta did the first thing that occured to her: she went dancing with friends, and got thoroughly lit. That night--after many pints--she turned to her friends and said, ”Whoa! I’m soooooo druuuuunk. Does anyone else hear Ninkash taaaaalking to them right now?
“No?? NO WAY!! SHE SAYS SHE’S CHOSEN ME TO SPREAD THE FAITH, AND HER GOOD BREWS, AND THAT TOGETHER WE CAN DRIVE OFF THOSE FEY KILLERS!”
The First Miracle was that Kjeta awoke the next morning refreshed, and without any hangover. Thus emboldened, she gathered everyone together in the Great Beerhall and shared her vision. With a rousing speech--her voice booming supernaturally, her eyes beginning to swirl like a kaleidoscope--she cajolled and inspired the townsfolk. ”Can we let those killers push us out? No, we cannot! Can we let the hops wither in the field? Sweet Mother of Ales, NO!! We must face our fears, drive out those selang...and then celebrate and make merry in honor of Ninkash, who is always by our side!”
Together they managed to track the selang to their camp, kill most--with Kjeta battering them with her glowing tankard--and send the rest fleeing. The townsfolk carried Kjeta home on their shoulders, chanting about the Hero of the Hops.
More recently, Kjeta heard Ninkash’s call the spread the Good Brews within the bustling city of Zobeck. She arrived half a year ago--riding among her kegs on a wagon pulled by her donkey--and has quickly built a reputation as one of Zobeck’s finest brewers. She is becoming a noted presence at many street faires and performances.
While she lacks any of the typical schooling of an acolyte, it doesn’t stop her from quoting the teachings of Ninkash (as best she can remember them)...and for any flaws in her scholarship, she stands out as an excellent brewer, competent healer, friendly face of the faith, and potent channel of Ninkash’s divinity.
* I enjoy the praise I receive. Maybe a little too much.
* I love to quote the teachings and proverbs of Ninkash...even if I can’t quite remember how they go.
* I strive to share my talents with as many people as I can.
* I always try to help those in need, no matter what the personal cost.
* There are people who are unable to protect themselves. I fight to protect those people.
* There's always time to raise a cup of ale, eh?
* I am inclined to think the best of a fellow brewers, even in the face of evidence to the contrary
FYI, In case it's helpful to yall, here's a cool, interactive map of Midgard (and a detailed map of Zobeck)
|River of Sticks|
Throwing my health together here...
Stats: Str: 8 / Dex 13 / Con 14 / Int 10 / Wis 12 / Cha 15 pre-race adjustment.
Health: 6d8 ⇒ (7, 3, 2, 2, 3, 5) = 22
Still need to make a few equipment selections and pick my feat. My original Background idea doesn't fit anymore, so I need to look a bit more on that.
EDIT: So that would be (7,5,5,5,5,5) for 32 HP, plus CON (+2 per level) and 10 HP from Fighter 1, for a total of 56 HP.
After reading up on Midgard and the free city of Zobeck, I had the idea of a Bearfolk Life Cleric running around with Shillelagh, but then I saw the amazing dwarven brewer priest that had already been submitted and my soul glowed in joy (andcausing me to scrap the Bearfolk idea).
Instead, I am working on a Elfmarked Bard-Warlock, a castaway that grew up on the streets of Zobeck, where he rose from scratching by what meager scraps he could to becoming a dashing, charismatic personality and troublemaker that has a friend in every tavern, alley, and festhall. A storyteller, entertainer, grifter, and explorer, he stumbled into where he shouldn't have been and discovered a dark force that infused into him, binding him into a barely-realized pact. Think perhaps a charming, pseudo-goth indiana jones.
Mechanically, he will be a bard (lore) 5 / warlock 2, serving as a party face and skill monkey with a nice mix of utility magic.
@GM Infinity There are only 2 feats in the Core Rulebook that can give a +1 to Charisma. You mentioned being open to single case considerations - would you be open to me taking the "Everybody's Friend" half-elf racial feat from UA?
hit points: 6d8 ⇒ (6, 4, 1, 7, 4, 3) = 25
wealth multiplier: 1d10 ⇒ 3
Dhampir of Morgau
NOTE: If chosen I'll make a profile
Feature Lord of the Night:
You give off a mien of lordship that undead, and those who venerate them, can’t ignore. Within the Principalities you are treated according to your high station; your presence is rarely challenged, and you can demand lodging and hospitality for yourself and your companions (equivalent to a common lifestyle for yourself, and a poor lifestyle for non-dhampir companions). Outside Morgau and Doresh, undead creatures are disposed to hear your words instead of leaping directly to battle. Mindless or simple undead such as skeletons and zombies don’t recognize you for what you are, but more intelligent undead may be willing to treat instead of fight, if you approach them correctly.
*My enemies deserve no mercy.
*I am always wary of Treachery
Autonomy: I make my own choices, and guide my own Destiny.
My station gives me insight into a great evil thta must be overthrown.
I dismiss the opinions of others quickly.
AdamWarnock, there's a rich history between Zobeck and the Shadow Fey stretching back 1200 years give or take. And of course the Shadow Realm is fairly integrated with Midgard as a whole what with the shadow roads and the concept of Erosion (strong emotions in one realm alter the space of the other). However, as the common man knows (and as the adventure tends to assume) shadow fey are rather exotic and little is known.
I'd say just let your imagination run wild for now and we will see if it needs to be dialed back or not. :)
Alrighty. Still working on it. I keep debating on Tempest Cleric or Forge Cleric or War Cleric.
I wasn't thinking she had dealings with the Shadow Fey, unless that is what the Unseelie are and I've just missed that bit of info. I was figuring that she'd run into a hag in the Northlands and that was how she wound up in the realms of the fey.
I like the concept I have at the moment, a cleric who spent her childhood in the Northlands and her teen years in the fey realms before showing up new Zobeck centuries later. I'm just trying to figure out how to work out the details. I'd like Raseri to be a smith, for example, but I'm not sure how to make that work with the background I'd picked out.
Fey-touched or fey foundling? I cant find either in the MHH or MWB for whatever reason (5 beers in likely part of it), but of course you are free to customize any background as per the normal 5e rules. Also I'm not sure the Seelie/Unseelie distinction is present in this setting, but I think not...instead there are a variety of fey courts.
I think it may be in Midgard Heroes. I found it in Hero Lab and just assumed it was in the MHH. And you're right, it is Fey-Touched. Must have gotten a wire crossed with the part of my brain that was thing about the Foundling race I made.
- Born in the Northlands before the founding of the city that became the Moon Palace.
- Lived in what is now Vargrike.
- Family's steading was raided by dark and twisted fey (Could be shadow fey, could be elves, could be something else entirely. Raseri doesn't remember.)
- Raseri escaped, her parents and siblings did not.
- Raseri was found by a seemingly kind woman that turned out to be a silver-eyed hag.
- Raseri was cursed and made fateless by accepting the hag's hospitality and the gift of a warm blanket after nearly dying to exposure.
- Raseri spent her next seven years in service to the hag, often being beaten for praying to Sif, Thor, or Volund
- Raseri, after a particularly brutal beating, was found by a kindly fey that negotiated her release from the hag.
- Raseri spent another seven years under the kindly fey, learning how to fight and and call upon the powers granted to her by Thor.
- At the end of seven years, Raseri found herself waking up under a tree outside of Zobeck, thousands of miles and hundreds of years removed.
- She's spent the past six years living in the city making a living as smith and guard, but feeling without purpose. She remembers little of life before and doesn't seem to age.
Alrighty. Still working on it. I keep debating on Tempest Cleric or Forge Cleric or War Cleric.
If you don't mind my offering a suggestion, I'd recommend the Forge domain. Of the three you listed, I think it's overall the strongest, and gives you access to either a magic weapon or magic armor; By 7th level, you'll have +1 ac to your heavy armor that you'll be wearing, meaning that you could (realistically) have a min 20 ac. Also, the ability to spontaneously create things you might need in whatever scenario you find yourself is really handy.
And for Forge Cleric...
Lvl 4 take magic initiate. This nets you booming Blade and Find Familiar.
Assuming Mountain Dwarf for Str16 and +1 enchant on your hammer:
Lvl 1: To Hit +6 / Damage 1d8+4
Lvl 4: To Hit +6 Advantage / Damage 1d8+4
Lvl 5 Booming Blade: To Hi+7 Adv / Damage 2d8+4
Lvl 8 Str18 and Divine Strike: To Hit +8 Adv / Damage 3d8+5
Lvl 9: To Hit +9 Adv / Damage 3d8+5
Lvl 11 Booming Blade: To Hit +9 Adv / Damage 4d8+5
Lvl 12 Str 20: To Hit +10 Adv / Damage 4d8+6
Lvl 13: To Hit +11 Adv / Damage 4d8+6
Lvl 14 Divine Strike: To Hit +11 Adv / Damage 5d8+6
Lvl 16 Great Weapon Master: To Hit +6 Adv / Damage 2d6+4d8+16
Lvl 17 Booming Blade: To Hit +7 Adv / Damage 2d6+5d8+16
Just a rough plan. But that’s a full caster who, with one attack, seriously lays down some hurt. Throw in plate armor with +1 AC from class and he will he tanky too. The Familiar takes the aid action, which is what gives advantage on attacks.
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Going to bow out....some interesting stuff in XGE and the Midgard Heroes book, but my mastery of the system is a bit lacking.
Not sure if you're still watching this, but if you want help building your character I am more than happy to help out. I don't ever like seeing someone leave a game because they don't feel confident enough with the system. You are more than welcome to PM me if you would rather go that route as well!
Variant Human Cleric (Forge Domain) 7
Background: Fey-Touched (If allowed, It is from the Midgard Heroes book)
Feats: Warcaster or Weapon Master, Magic Initiate
Role: Healing, crafting, and hitting stuff really hard. I had pictured her using a maul or a greatsword depending on the situation.
Raseri was the youngest daughter of two thralls in the service of dwarves. When she was six, raiders (I was thinking malevolent fey, but they could be anyone really,) attacked her family's home on the edge of the pastures they tended for their dwarven masters one winter's eve. She escaped into the woods, but her family was slaughtered. Cold and lost, she ran through the woods until she could only walk, then walked until she was too exhausted to continue.
She had found her way into the Feywild (or whatever it's called in Midgard. I couldn't find the name.) Unfortunately for her, she was noticed by a silver-eyed hag that needed someone like her for some mysterious purpose (No idea why other than it involved stealing Raseri's fate.) Not willing to let the opportunity slip by, she transformed herself into a beautiful woman to entice Raseri into accepting her offer of hospitality.
Unfortunately for the hag, she wasn't able to do much about her eyes which remained silver, and Raseri is a clever girl. She had heard tales of the fey and knew better than to accept the offers. Twice the hag failed to convince Raseri to come with her to her home before tricking the exhausted and freezing girl. She claimed that there was a cottage where a dwarf lived and that she would be warm there. Clever, but naive and cold, Raseri agreed to be lead there if she could repay the favor with tales and songs on the way over. Her mother had a number of tales that she'd passed down to her daughter, after all.
The hag agreed and lead Raseri to the cottage where she lived, turned into mist and sneaked into the cottage through the chimney and turned herself into a dwarf while Raseri approached and knocked on the door. The hag answered, being sure to keep her eyes in shadow so that Raseri wouldn't recognize her. She gave the girl a blanket cursed to steal the fate of any who willingly accept it and offered a place by the fire and a warm drink.
Much to Raseri's horror, the dwarf turned into the first guise the hag had worn before changing into the hag's true shape after she had taken only a sip of the mulled cider. The hag claimed Raseri and put her to work. The first task being to help cook the dwarf that the hag had taken prisoner some years before. For the next seven years Raseri toiled away, cooking, cleaning, mending, and any other menial and miserable chore the hag could think of.
Raseri often prayed to Sif, Thor, and Volund at those times, asking for guidance, strength, or courage. When the hag caught her, she beat the girl mercilessly. Raseri endured it until she thought that a cold death among the snow wound be better than a moment more of her miserable treatment at the hag's hands. She ran once more, and again fled until she was exhausted.
Again a fey found her, but this one was a kindly fey, the lady of the forest Raseri had stumbled into seven years before. Seeing the scars and stick-thin frame, she took pity on Raseri and carried her back to her cottage where she tended to the young girl's wounds.
The hag, meanwhile hired a wild, fey huntsman to help her find the wayward girl she'd enslaved. The lady of the forest was not a weak fey, though and the hag and her companion found themselves constantly getting lost for three days and nights before the lady of the forest tired of the game and let them find her home. By this time Raseri had woken up and was timidly explored the cottage before hearing the commotion from outside. She peeked out a window and felt her heart catch in her chest as she recognized the hag.
The lady of the forest demanded to know why the hag was traipsing about her domain when the hag spotted Raseri and answered that she was looking for the girl and demanded her back. The lady of the forest offered to trade for the girl, not wanting let the hag have her way. The hag, not wanting to anger one so much more powerful than herself, accepted the trade, but spat out a curse at Raseri before departing.
The lady of the forest taught Raseri how to fight and the art of smithing in exchange for Raseri's help in tending her gardens. The work, while not easy, was much more enjoyable and the two often traded tales while they worked. Raseri soon ran out of the ones she'd been told, so she made new ones up when her turn to tell a tale came.
Raseri grew only a little more in those seven years, her aging slowed by her time in the Feywild. After thirteen years in the strange realms of the fey, she stopped aging altogether, appearing only sixteen years of age when she was nearing twenty.
Then, seven years to the day after she was rescued by the lady of the forest, Raseri awoke under a tree outside of Zobeck. Hundreds of years and thousands of miles away from her home in the region now called Vargrike. For the past six years, Raseri has made her way as smith and guard, still not appearing to age, and seemingly lost in a fast paced world where everything changes before she has barely had time to get used to things.
- First, totally up the DM what attacked Raseri's home that night.
- Raseri was born some time before the founding of the city that later became the Moon Palace. Her home was on the edge of the forest that covers the region.
- The not aging thing is something I would like to play with a bit. I figure there would be some consequences for her living hundreds of years in the Feywild. I also figure six years is long enough for some in the city to notice there's something strange about her and for rumors to really get going.
- Whether or not she's truly fateless is up the DM, as is the reasons why the hag needed her fate.
- Likewise, totally up the DM what Raseri's curse is. I figure he'll come up with something good.
- Raseri doesn't remember much about her life before waking up under the tree just outside of Zobek six years ago. Some things, like the Silver-eyed woman tricking her or the lady of the forest helping her stand out, but most of it is a blur of emotions.
- I also have a version that started off as prose then morphed into kind of a fairy tale style story. I didn't finish this one because, well, because I started to hate it. It felt dumb to me, so I'm just posting it so someone may have a laugh or get some entertainment out of it.
The howls of wolves followed her every step. Her family, thralls in the service of the dwarves, screamed as they were cut down. She ran into the woods, cursing herself for a coward with every step. She was too young to learn the proper use of weapons, but everything she'd been taught told her she was a coward. She ran anyway. What could a girl of six winters do? She knew too little and was too weak. She ran on, into the forest.
The hours passed as she tired. The screams and howls faded. Her mind only replayed the events that had begun the nightmare over and over again. She had smelled the smoke on the wind and knew there was no home to return to. The air grew colder with each passing moment and the forest grew darker around her. She was young, but knew of the dangers in the wilds. Even mighty men had been laid low by Boreas' fell breath. Death stalked her now, she knew. Her fate was near.
"Why so sad, child," a soft, singsong voice called from the darkness.
She stood, frozen with fear as she heard the voice. She had heard many tales of the fey and their wicked tricks, but she also knew they could be kind if the fancy struck them.
"I am lost and alone," she answered, "my home is likely burnt to ash and my kinsmen likely lay dead about its ruin."
"The night is cold child. Come to my hearth and warm yourself by the fire." The voice said as a beautiful woman with silver eyes came around. "It is not your fate to die here," she told the young girl.
The young girl stood where she was, warily watching the woman.
"If you'll but show me the way, I'll find someway to repay you. My masters are dwarves skilled with tools and all metals that are precious," the girl said, knowing better than to accept the hospitality of the fey no matter their temperament.
"The way is long and many hours yet. Come to my hearth and warm yourself by the fire," the woman replied. "It is not your fate to die here."
The girl pondered this for a moment. Wiser and more clever than her years might tell, she remembered the tales of her mother and of how the fey loved songs and tales.
"I am not so cold yet. The movement will keep me warm, but if you were to show me the art of making a fire, I'd gladly repay you with tales and songs to pass the hours," she said.
The woman pondered this a moment, then a moment more. A clever one was this one she thought and changed her tack.
"Lost you say you are. I know of a home where an old dwarf lives. He will not turn you away nor will accepting his hospitality bind you to a fey. You are clever, I see, and am sure the tales and songs will be most entertaining. These I'll accept for guiding you to him."
So the girl followed the silver-eyed woman and told her some interesting tales and sang a few entertaining songs. The night air was deathly cold, but the trip was not long. The girl had thought her troubles ended, but she was soon to be proven wrong.
They arrived at the house, a small cottage with a tall roof all draped with dead vines and moss. The silver-eyed woman beckoned the girl forward and urged her to knock. The girl obeyed, thinking a safe haven had been found. The woman disappeared then, as the girl's attention was on the door.
She turned into a cloud of mist and made her way through the chimney. Once inside and past the hearth, she changed into the form of a gray breaded dwarf and answered the door. She invited the girl in out of the cold, and girl eagerly accepted. Once the girl was inside, the disguised woman offered the girl a warm blanket to warm her as she sat by the fire. The girl, grateful to be alive, accepted.
Then, to the girl's horror the dwarf changed before her eyes into the woman, who then turned old and ugly. A hag, a fey witch of no small power, stood before the girl and leered with crooked and yellowed teeth and eyes of solid silver.
"Accepted both hearth and gift you have and now mine you are. Serve me well, girl of the north. Serve me well or be put into my pot," the hag cackled.
For seven years the girl served the hag. She cooked and cleaned. She mended the laundry and bathed the disgusting hag's back. She gathered the firewood and tended the wretched cats the hag kept as pets and familiars. She would pray to Sif for courage, to Thor for strength, and to Volund for skill each time the hag set her about some chore or another. Each time the hag caught the words, she sneered and whipped the girl across the back.
"The gods have no power here," she spat, "your words have no power!"
Seven years and a day after she'd been tricked, the girl ran away, thinking that dying of the cold in the forest was better than enduring another moment of servitude under the hag. She ran as far and as fast as she could. She was older and stronger, but her hands were no more skilled with weapons than before. She cursed herself again for a coward.
She ran until she collapsed, too exhausted to even rise. She lay there as she felt her limbs grow numb and the air bite at her lungs. Another woman came, this one dressed in green trimmed with gold and white trimmed with silver. Her features were fair and warm and her deep green eyes looked over the fallen girl with concern.
"A strange one you are," she said as she picked up the girl, "The strands of fate are missing, and you walk among the fair folk, yet you are mortal."
The woman took the girl to her home and tended her wounds. For three days and nights she cared for the girl until she awoke.
The hag had not been idle in those days. She summoned a master of the hunt, a wild fey that boasted of never losing a quarry. She and he hunted the girl. The woman that had saved the girl from a cold death was clever and swift. For three days the huntsman tracked the fey, getting lost each day before the woman, the lady of these woods, grew tired of the game and twisted their path to her home.
"Why do you hunt my wood," she demanded of the hag and the huntsman. "I do not desire your company nor have you asked my permission."
The girl had awoken by this time and peeked out the window. Her heart leapt into her throat as she saw the hag and the woman talking, and tighter did her chest feel when her eyes locked with the hag's.
"You have something of mine," the hag did begin, "a girl you see. More a waif, but still she belongs to me. She has warmed herself by my hearth and eaten my food. To deny me my right would be terribly rude. She is mine and belongs to me, for you see, she accepted my hospitality."
"Enough you have taken from her, but if it is your demand, an exchange I'll make for her skilled hands. A favor from me, to one such as you. Surely not even a fool would refuse."
If you actually read this, I am so, so sorry! I at least hope you got some chuckles out of it.
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|River of Sticks|
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Vrog, I'll gladly take up you offer if help...
Good deal. I have a few questions that I usually use when trying to pin down what I want my character to be able to do. I'll drop them in a spoiler and if you want to reply via pm that works too.
So really quickly, when I talk about the three pillars of roleplaying, what I am referring to are social interaction, exploration, and combat.
1) Character Race: it's normally the first thing I ask, but it sounds like you want to go with a Shadow Fey Elf.
2) Magic or no? This is one of the biggest questions and easiest ways of narrowing down your character that you can start with.
3) What is your character's primary social skill? It's my personal belief that everyone should be able to contribute to each of the three pillars of roleplaying, and having a social skill makes that happen. I'm not saying you should try to be the face of the group (unless that's your thing) but being able to meaningfully contribute when you are off on your own or the group splits up is helpful.
4) Of the six attributes, which would you say is the most important for how you envision your character?
5) Do you like to fight up close or at a distance, or to put it another way, do you like to poke people with sticks or throw sticks at them? Deciding how you meaningfully contribute to combat is important to a) help you pin down your character; b) can help you get an inkling of how your character became an adventurer, and c) will help the rest of us know what you do when a fight breaks out.
6) Finally, are there any archetypes that you can't stand and are absolute deal breakers for you playing a character? As an example, for me it's someone that steals from the party. I can't stand people who play that sort of roguish character, and they usually don't wake up after the first time it's discovered.
Sorry, but I've been asked for a substitution in a friend's game and I don't really think I'll have the time for a proper gameplay in that many games, so I feel I have to opt out and leave room for someone who can really dedicate the time this one deserves.
Once again, sorry, and thank you for your time and effort.
This is Wanderer82, tagging in with my Elfmarked Bard 5 / Warlock 2, Wraxus Drake. A "street-urchin-turned-cartographer-who-hunted-treasure-but-found-a-curse", Wraxus seeks excitement and intrigue, and a chance to create more great stories.
I still and filling in the mechanics on my character sheet (its getting damn late), but my backstory, personality, and the like are all there.
Still around 20 minutes of recruitment open, but current list of applicants I'm considering:
scranford Constantin Dhampir Fighter
Jubal Carnadine Dhampir Fighter
Grumbaki Hrungnir Dwarf Cleric
Vrog Lexi Human Rog/Rang
gyrfalcon Kjeta Dwarf Cleric
Dreaming Warf Deimus Gearforged Bard
Dan Xun'e Human Monk/Rog
AdamWarnock Raseri Human Cleric
wanderer82 Wraxus Elfmarked Bard/Warlock
River of Sticks Jorgund Dragonkin Warlock/Fighter
[Recruitment Closed Oct 6th 12:29 am]
Well thanks a lot guys, you had to be so amazing to make this ridiculously hard. You really stopped messing around. It was impossible to narrow it down to 7 let alone 6. Hope theres no sore feelings to old friends and game-mates!
Dreaming Warf Deimus Gearforged Bard Kobold rebuilt by Rava
Grumbaki Hrungnir Dwarf Fighter Fey-struck eldritch knight
gyrfalcon Kjeta Dwarf Cleric Ninkash brewer
AdamWarnock Raseri Human Cleric Pawn of the Woods Mistress
Jubal Carnadine Dhampir Fighter Local businessman
Vrog Lexi Human Rog/Rang Mharoti apprentice
Please check the discussion tab. A gameplay thread will be open soon.
|River of Sticks|