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Paladins are pretty far from MAD. All you really need is Charisma and Strength. Everything else is just icing. You could also make a character like this one! He was generated with random stupid high stats.
I was kind of joking, I really like this character, but he would need to be re-worked for the campaign. Also not sure if my alchemist is going to get into the CSI Absalom game...I'm only looking for one game to play in right now.
...and my axe!
Bofgar will move to the north ten feet and wait for the spiders to approach. Ready Action to Attack Spider:
"Ack, bunch of babies. Just some whee spiders," Bofgar hefts Gimthic and prepares to enter the room.
"Now that we're lit up like dandys, let's go," he grumbles having regained his breath. Bofgar starts walking through the rubble trying to get a look inside the tower. If it looks clear he continues farther in.
"Nicely done, Krom'gosh! We best be movin' now." Bofgar slaps the half-orc on the side and starts walking towards the broken tower. Looking for anywhere in particular to enter.
Bofgar does a scary jitterbug trying to make his armor clamor about loudly to frighten the dogs away.
"Huh, got some dogs a little bit away. Probably just a pack of ferals." Bofgar comments, holding a hand out protectively to keep the others from advancing. "Shoo! Git on outa here!"
Still breathing Bofgar joins the strange cleric and dog, "Find somethin'?"
"Not sure how you humans can find anything with your weak eyes."
"Nay lass, me armor turned it's fangs. Like the elf said, barely got a scratch. Just a little...ooof...out of breath," he says as the adrenaline from the battlerage fades from his system. The dwarf has begun to lean heavily on Gimthic. "I'll be fine with a bit o' breather."
The loud dwarf barbarian laughs at a joke told at his table and turns to the serving maid, "Miss, could I get another rack of that delicious lamb, and maybe a mug of dark ale to wash it down with." Maybe I'll take your rack up ta me room later too. Bofgar returns to his companions merely exchanging tales.
The loud dwarf barbarian laughs at a joke told at his table and turns to the serving maid, "Miss, could I get another rack of that delicious lamb, and maybe a mug of dark ale to wash it down with." Maybe I'll take your rack up ta me room later too. Bofgar returns to his companions merely exchanging tales.
Bofgar jerks his blade free of the centipede. "A decent warm-up for the night. Looks like we're hoofing it for now." As he walks he cleans the ax with a rag from his pack.
"HahaHAHA, too tough to crush, eh?!" the mad dwarf roars back at the centipede taking another mighty swing.
Here is an example of a Play-By-Post alias. If you click this name you will see it links to a profile which I have setup similar to a Character Sheet. I would implore you to read through a couple pages of my other game. It can help you get an idea for how it's done. If you want to make a physical character sheet first using the character creation rules you can then create an Alias for the character. To create an Alias simply click on My Account, sign in, scroll down to the Messageboard Alliases section, and click on Create new messageboard alias. Put in your character name, click on change to select an avatar. Afterwards submit your changes. In your Alias section you can click on the name of your Alias and then Edit My Profile. Once in there setup something that looks similar to this characters profile.
"We'll get this out of the way quickly and be back to our ruins! HHEEAAARRGGGGHHHHHH!" Bofgar flies into a foaming battle rage charging straight at the creature. Mid charge he begins to swing Gimthick letting the momentum of the weapon carry him straight at it's shiny carapace.
Bofgar slips his mighty axe from his back and peers around, "A bug?"
The dwarf hops off the wagon with his freshly sharpened axe and stares at the fine architecture of the tower. "How do ya suppose we get in?" Starting to move towards it to find an entrance.
Bofgar has unslung Gimthic and begun to hone her edge with his whetstone, "Aye, thank ye as well, Roland. I expect ye'll have us there right smart. Soon as that elf gathers his muffins."
Bofgar grabs the boarding rope and swings himself onto a bench beside the cleric.
"An excellent parlor trick, Quinn," comments the dwarf as he studies the map. Bofgar heads outside the inn, "I'll flag us a wagon and let's be off!"
"Boy, a dwarf spends most his life in the dark. Ye've got to answer when adventure calls. Ask yourself, how could you sleep knowin' some two-bit purse thief might be sifting through your treasure," Bofgar says checking his own pack and weapons. "If it's only four hours than I be ready to go. Perhaps we should hire another wagon to take us there? To speed things up and have somethin' to carry out loot away with."
"Your lucky day, Quinn! No clue who that Balenar fellow is but this sounds like a chance to prove yourself and make a little scratch on the side," Bofgar turns towards Ilishna, "In the Cairnlands you say? The plain full of siege towers noone knows what about just outside of town?"
"An excellent song, Miss Blackbow," applauds Bofgar, "Always a pleasure to hear you sing."
"Perhaps now is the time, Thinwhistle, to see if there is a quest you kin take? When would be better than as you have a table of companions. Mayhaps she has a rumor or tidbit for you to follow?" prods Bofgar merrily enjoying the tune.
"Bofgar Morarr, dwarven battlerager, mercenary, and bodyguard," he says flourishing a meat pie. "Wielder of Gimthic"
Bofgar raises a fuzzy eyebrow, "Thank ye miss...?" He pauses for her name than continues, "The joke was that would-be thug earlier! I still can't believe I knocked him out by throwing Gimthic at him. T'was a first."
"Elf...you've got that look in your eyes. Like me Granfa when he remembered the old days," says Bofgar. He sits down again with a meat pie in both hands. "By the gods these are delicious. So warm and flaky...I'll need another drink to wash them down!"
"Quinn, your tavern could be a little closer to the Cathedral. This ride'll cost me a fortune!" Bofgar complains merrily.
Bofgar clambers back onto the wagon. Grace never being a dwarf's strong point.
"Aye, she was made with dwarven hands. It seems there is a clamor for her story and I will share it when we return." The dwarf takes a step closer to the bottomless pit. "Krom you speak of the Test of the Starstone. I've seen a dozen tries to take that first step. Some mages have flown across, others have tried and hurtled to their doom when their magic failed half way. I saw a man simply try and pole-vault across. One sneaky fellow shot a grappling hook across and tried to shimmy his way until a powerful wind swept up and dislodge the rope. Perhaps the most entertaining as a towering Mwangi warrior. He had built himself a catapult at the edge of the pit and launched himself through the air. Actually survived and ran inside." Bofgar shades his eyes and looks towards the sky. "That was two years ago, nobody has seen him since."
"Ha! Well you know what they say in the deep tongue. It is not the size of the barrel, but how many fish it can hold!" Bofgar laughs merrily and claps the elf on the side. Then he glares a bit, "'sides, Gimthick, here is thirsty. I wouldn't let her drink earlier.
Bofgar hops off of the wagon and let's out a small gasp. Even after seeing the Cathedral for years the barest glimpse steals his breath. The stories tell that the massive structure was created by Aroden when he raised the Starstone from the depths of the Inner Sea and that very relic is believed to rest within. The Cathedral stands on a stone column in the center of a wide and seemingly bottomless pit at the heart of Absalom's central Ascendant Court district. Four bridges span the chasm, each representing one of the four ascended gods who attained divinity at this site, though the bridge for Aroden collapsed in a massive earthquake in 4698 AR after years of poor care by the dead god's aging clergy. He's always been awed by the sight. For this is not just the place of heros and villains, but it is where gods themselves have risen. Bofgar only hears the tale end of Krom and Bru's conversation. "Ack, swords are what little girls use to mend their bedclothes. An axe! That is a real weapon. Something you can put your weight behind."
\/Holy cow, you can use a Large Bastard Sword
Bofgar kicks the thug off the wagon when they stop at the poorhouse. "Hey lads! Got some trash here fo' ya." He then turns to the wagoneer. "To the Cathedral, goodman!" Even the gruff dwarf is awed by the site and it's always a pleasure to see it.
Bofgar sighs irked at having to clean up his mess,"Well, we could always put him on the first bench-wagon we see. Ask the porter to drop him off across town at the Charter House of Our Lady o' Valor Iomedae. Girls there will take care of him real nice." The battle hardened barbarian winces at the thought of being at the mercy of the Iomedaen battle nuns.
"I am an axe for hire, and an easily bored one at that. If you two needed some help I could always send the bill to the Society." Bofgar says between mouthfuls of delicious mutton. He finally swallows and wipes his lips clean on his sleeve. "This would be wonderful with some onions and flat dwarven bread like me mum would make." While the story was being told and Bofgar dined another man had entered the room. This one only a hand shorter than Krom, a burly human with tattoos running down his bald head. He has worked his way near the moneychanger only a couple tables from the group. The accountant finally looks up from his book and drink nervously letting out a small yelp as the thug draws a knife. Hearing the yelp Bofgar turns to the sound, "Ah yeah. Him. Forgot." Bofgar quickly grabs the axe which has been leaning on the table and with a great red-faced, vein popping yell hurls it sidearm.
The axe hurtles through the air, spinning twice, before the handle smashes into the back of the cuthroat's head. Knocked senseless by the blow he collapses to the ground. The axe rebounds off, landing deep in the floor beside the moneychanger. "Sorry 'bout that!" Bofgar says taking a couple deep breaths. "If that was who you where worried about ye may want to run off back home now." White faced the coin counter stands up, hurries over to Bofgar's side and sets down a small leather pouch. "Ka..keep the..the.. change." He stammers before barging out of the tavern. Bofgar opens the purse to count his pay, his expression growing dire. "....pennies! I hate copper pennies." The dwarf stands up and retrieves Gimthic, chuckling to himself. "Gonna be a hell of a headache." As he nudges the unconscious thug with boot. Looking around the tavern Bofgar almost seems to blush a little under his thick beard. "Quinn, maybe we should show Krom here the Cathedral? I got some change we can hire a bench-wagon with."
"What where these gifts you mentioned? I want to hear more of how they fought," says the dwarf thunking his mug to the table.
"Fancy yourself a bard do you, lad? Let's see you perform! Give us a show to drink to." Bofgar says encouraging the halfing. "What do you do? Song, dance? Guitar, maybe a pretty little flute?"
"To Adventure! Wherever it may be lurking." Bofgar cheers and quaffs his drink. "Tell us more of your tale halfling and perhaps I will share more of my axe's."
"I've been too long without a good adventure. These bodyguard jobs grow dull. Why this fellow in the corner is afraid some two-bit thugs are going to jump him because he fixed their books." He flicks a bit of muffin in the direction of his employer. "I wouldn't even bother using Gimthic's blade if they showed up. Just knock 'em in the head with her haft.
"I would appreciate the roasted sheep then, miss. My mouth is watering already," Bofgar responds to Catrin. Nibbling the muffin he looks at Quinn. "Sometimes an adventurer's heart has to be bigger then the blade he carries. My granfa left me a deep goal, as dwarves say. I think you and your friend may be on your way. Keep an eye out if you see an opportunity to prove yourself."
"Nah, it's true. I know a half-orc dame at Lady Dusk's. She's built like a fine stone wall. Can do such things with those tusked lips, make you forget about that green tint to her skin." Bofgar tries one of the muffins a little disappointed it is not some kind of skewered and roasted meat.
His background is pretty funny though.
Oops, I'm a Dwarven Barbarian, not a Dwarven fighter, FYI.
Bofgar bristles at the mention of true orcs, "Their tongue sounds like squished organs and breaking bones." He spits on the floor in disgust. "I may have grown up in Absalom but me granfa had a word or two about orcs. They haven't proved wrong yet. Half-orcs are a different story of course."
"My granfa dubbed me Bofgar Morarr. Brave bear of the great tower he said it meant." he replies finishing his first drink. "Where did that wee lass go? My stomach calls for meat!"
"<You speak the father tongue as well as I.>" Bofgar replies in Dwarvish accepting the handshake. "Not much opportunity to practice it. Absalom only has a few thousand of my kind in its walls. Even few of yours."
Easing up on the suspicion the dwarf says, "New to town?" This money changer fellow was afraid of locals. I doubt they would hire an out of town sell-sword to take care of him. "Where are you from?" |
