Ollie-Twist's page

I've got two character ideas I'm kind of tooling with at the moment. Neither of them are super fleshed out yet, but I figure it's worth getting feedback om them anyways, see if either concept is really jumping out at anyone. They're both using one of the player's guide campaign traits as a jumping-off point.

Using the "Against the Technic League" trait: An escaped Technic League android, new to the world outside their designated duties but determined to share their newfound freedom with as many slaves and other androids still held captive as possible. I like the idea of them starting the campaign with a serial number/code in place of a name and without much of a personal sense of identity, with a personal goal of building one over the course of the game. For class, I like the 'science vs nature' juxtaposition of making this character a druid, but I'm struggling to think of the how and why for that set of abilities, so I think most likely they would wind up either a magus or a wizard that had been studying whatever Technic League scraps they could get their hands on in secret. This character could definitely run the risk of feeling a bit on the "edgy" or overly dark side of things, but I'd want to focus much more on their joy in experiencing new things for the first time and their excitement to bring that joy to other people than on any desire for vengeance they might feel. If anyone else in the party has dealings with the League, maybe they met in the process of this character's escape and have stuck together, or might have been pointed towards each other by a third party.

Using the "Skymetal Smith" trait: A human metal kineticist, native to Torch, who has finished his apprenticeship at one of the many blacksmiths in town and started out on his own just in time for the fires to go out on Torch Hill. He's much more interested in being able to get back to his forge and his work than he is in being any kind of fancy adventurer or hero or anything, but someone has to solve this, and he's definitely not interested in sitting around and waiting for someone else to do it. I don't say that to mean that he'll actually object to continuing on in the campaign once that issue is resolved, at worst he might grumble a little, but that sense of "someone has to do it, and I sure am here" will carry him a long way. A pretty straightforward, salt-of-the-earth kind of guy without much patience for subtleties, subterfuge, or nuance. I'm fuzzy on the details of what caused/awakened his kineticist abilities, I think some kind of traumatic accident in the forge early on in his apprenticeship that he might not have survived if not for his gate opening. If he has any conflicting kind of feelings about that, they've got to be buried somewhere pretty deep, because if anything, gaining these powers have made him more attached to the forge than he was before his accident. If the campaign doesn't have more set-up for how the group is getting together and deciding to investigate the fires, maybe he put out word that he wanted people to come investigate with him?

So.... Hm. I would have been willing, if it had been left at the first post, to accept this as a redline and move on with the game. To be perfectly honest, I'm very uncomfortable with a PC becoming pregnant on screen in a campaign, however it's handled, and the GM you mentioned making rolls for conception would have skeeved me all the way out the door. I'm fine making the handwave that contraception in this fantasy make-believe world is easy, reliable, and practical enough that it barely needs mentioning.

The more this topic gets expanded on, the less comfortable I become. Your points range from things that I might disagree with but have some sympathy for, to things that I find actively harmful. I can handle having a friend who might be uncomfortable with the topic, or might have some complicated feelings surrounding it, I think that's natural. But, somewhere in these posts, you crossed the line for me.

I really do appreciate the effort you've put into this game. You're a good writer, and I've been really enjoying this cast of PCs, so I am very sad to be bowing out, but I struggle to see myself continuing to be comfortable here.

To all the other players, I really enjoyed playing with you all, and would love to do so again if the opportunity ever arises. Feel free to send a DM if you'd like to keep in touch. See y'all around.

As Lita mentions hazing, Dare nods. "Ah. You think Duke Creepypants is testing us?"

"No, I don't think so, don't think he'd want to be there with us if that was it. This strikes me as someone wanting to get to know us, maybe thinks danger is a good way to bond, or thinks we can get a good trophy from it, bring back some glory."

She's quiet for another beat, then raises her glass for another sip, in part to hide the corner of her mouth tugging upward into a half-smile.

"Willie's school mates, though? Definitely taking the piss."

Lita had stayed quiet, quite happy to listen to Chask and Willie's banter. It was fun, in its way, to watch the city boy fluster and flail about. That, unfortunately, doesn't last long, as Brodent Quink enters, giving each of her companions in their turn a simple nod, and then stopping at her. She waits for his judgement to pass, unsure if the narrowed eyes are scrutiny or dislike or something in between, and she's almost as surprised as he looks that the reception isn't cold.

"I- Thank you, Mr. Quink. It's a pleasure to see you again." Whatever might have been betrayed on her face at first is covered quickly, lowering her head in a polite bow, her voice measured and even. If she's at all embarrassed to be called 'little Lita' or to be complimented - and she is certainly embarrassed - Lita is trying her very best to keep it from being obvious.

"With the winged woman and the white robes?"

"That's the one," she starts, some of the nervousness dissipating. If it was real, or at least mutually remembered, then it's a comfort. At the very least, it means they don't have to hash out that particular conversation again. "You should know, I meant everything I said."

Lita seems content to let that covnersation lie there for the time being, falling quiet as the others think about Thassilonians and subjects her own education had never really seen fit to include. History was all well and good and probably fit to study, but she'd never had much luck, personally, with anything that required that much reading.

"This isn't the first time I've gotten some kind of message from my Goddess or one of her servants. And Scrapeknee's clearly been blessed, so between us, and a disruption of a festival of Desna, messages in our dreams makes sense, but... I couldn't tell you why us. I'm sure the Gods have stronger servants willing to fight this fight. We might simply be the ones who were here, or they have plans on pushing us into being the stronger servants we're looking for. Father Zantus is a good place to start."

Lita had grown quiet as the conversation drifted to Lord Foxglove, though her face did pull into a displeased frown the longer Willie waved off Dare's concerns. When Cailyn speaks, though, she does speak up.

"He didn't do much but look last night, but there was some looking. He was hanging on anything you said, making very sure he was making a good impression on you. And only you, didn't care too much who else saw the way he was only interested as long as you were looking at him." Lita glances back towards Willie, voice going a little quiet, unsure if continuing is wise. "Some people - ones that care more about appearing good than actually being it - they'll put a lot of effort towards a flawless appearance, but if you're not one of the people whose opinion they care about... Look, I'll be happy if we're wrong. I'm not saying we've got to run him out of town and ruin his name or anything, but I think it'd do us well to be cautious around him."

By the time Lita reached her bed that night, she was tired through to her bones, eyelids heavy and each step feeling like dragging lead weights by her hooves. The excitement of the night had caught up to her, leaving her somewhat sore and looking forward to even her simple bed as if it was the most luxurious silk and cushions, and by the time she'd gotten out of her armor, washed the blood and grime from her person, and collapsed into it, it might as well have been. Sleep claimed her before she was even really aware it was coming.

"Who d-did he say he was?" he asks the horned woman in a low voice, not-so-subtly changing the subject. "And why's it t-taking so long?"

"A 'Lord Foxglove', I believe he said." Lita keeps her voice low, not trying to be overheard, but as she opens her mouth to continue, to say something about how these fancy folks seem to love using quite a lot of words to say so very little, they're interrupted. Which, really, is probably for the best.

She's quiet as they're led through the town, never quite sure what should hold her attention. Every moment, she sees a different picture. One second, all she can focus on is the damage, the places she can see will need repaired or replaced, blood spilled on the ground, yet another tragedy to recover from for people who had seen more than their fair share. Then, the next moment, she'll catch the eye of someone celebrating, or hear a cheer from off elsewhere, and maybe it isn't so bad. There's more to celebrate than to mourn, it seems, an idea which fully sinks in as they enter the Rusty Dragon and Lita is bombarded with the sight and sound of raucous celebration, almost overwhelming.

Okay, definitely overwhelming.

There's too much being said from too many directions as they make their way through the crowd. Someone puts a drink in her hand and claps her back hard enough that she almost spills it and she doesn't know who, but she manages a weak smile in the direction she thinks it must have come from, and she's grateful when their little group makes it into the back room and the heavy oak door muffles the worst of the commotion. Finally, as she lowers herself into a chair, maybe she can breathe.

"But that's enough about me! I'd like know what brought all of you to Sandpoint! What do you love about this town? I was only a young boy when my sisters and I were taken to Korvosa, and I want to know more about this quaint little town."

"I've recently come back here to work at the Cathedral." She looks around to the others, realizing that this was an update to what she'd told them all the other night. "Like I said the other day. They did have a place for me, so. It looks like I'll be staying. I moved my things into the priests' quarters already." Lita can't quite keep the grin off her face as she speaks, clearly quite happy with the news, even if she can't quite bring herself to answer the slightly more complicated second half of Lord Foxglove's question.

That smile doesn't subside as Dare, and then Conrad, join her at her table, raising her own drink in a short cheers to them both.

Lita's hand falls to where that arrow had pierced through her armor without thought as Conrad asks about it, finding nothing there but her own drying blood, and a puncture in the material through which she can feel unmarred skin. The pain had remained for a little while after the healing, through reduced from something piercing and all-encompassing to an ache not unlike a bruise, but now as the excitement dies down, even that is dissipating, leaving only the memory.

"I'm... I'm intact, at least. Scrapeknee fixed me up." She looks up from the remaining evidence of the injury to cast her glance around them, at the town around them dealing with the aftermath. "Whether I'm 'okay' might remain to be seen." There's a short, somewhat half-hearted chuckle, an attempt to lighten her own mood. Whether or not it works is up for debate. "You handled yourself well. You said you've fought for coin the other night, right?"

"I- Well."

That fight might have cut it close, and even with the damage gone Lita could still feel a dull ache where the arrow had come so close to sending her to her Goddess, but if anything was going to be the death of her tonight, it was apparently going to be the ease with which these compliments were being thrown around. That any of them might be thrown her way might as well put her in the coffin right now. Even if she can dismiss Lord Foxglove's comment as sycophantic, overly-complimentary to win over his saviors, it still sets her off-balance, cheeks going warm with the embarrassment, and positively burning as Dare follows it up. Suddenly, it's hard to make herself make eye contact with anyone, and she finds herself fidgeting, toying with the symbol of Sarenrae hanging from her neck.

When Lita can find it within her to speak again, she clears her throat, awkward.

"I'm Lita. It's good to see you're unharmed."

Lita bows her head with a quiet "Sheriff," as Scrapeknee introduces her, though her manner becomes noticeably subdued as soon as Hemlock is on the scene, apparently unwilling to meet the man's eye.

Instead, she distracts herself with Willie's reluctance, hanging back a moment to address him.

"There's no shame in taking shelter, if that's what you want. You're not a soldier." She pauses, as if thinking the idea over. "But, you ran in when there was more danger, and again to help that woman, and your rallying cry was... Well, rallying." another pause, this one accompanied by a smile that she can only hope is reassuring. "You've been very courageous, I think. We'd appreciate your help, if you're willing."

Attack (+1 competence, +2 aid another): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
Damage: 2d4 + 3 ⇒ (3, 2) + 3 = 8

Lita takes the opening Scrapeknee provides, slashing upward and through a new gap in the goblin's defenses. She flashes an appreciative look to him, though she's already beginning to fix her attention on the next target.

"Good work, you're doing well."

Lita frowned, about to give Willie some choice advice on where he could take that attitude (into the cathedral to shelter with the other civilians, of course. No need for someone not cut out for fighting to get themselves hurt) before the sound of more goblins approaching reached them. Instead, whatever she had been about to say is lost to another hissed curse in Abyssal.

Dare seemed competent enough, and Cailyn's owl had taken out a number of the little creatures in the previous fight, but Scrapeknee and Dani were left with too many, too close, and she hadn't seen a proper weapon in either of their hands. So, Lita throws herself into a sprint, skidding to a halt in a stance beside Scrapeknee, ready to defend.

Taking the full round to Run and get in position.

By the time it came for Father Zantus' speech, Lita had found her way back towards the stage and taken her earlier spot beside it, a sense of... peace, maybe, and pride that she had contributed in some way to the success of the event, that she had come back for this at all. He throws the thunderstone to the ground with a resounding crack and Lita's back goes straight, shoulders back, at attention. She'd been ready for that, knowing it was part of the plan for the evening, but a scream splits the air, then another, then the sick sound of a blade hitting flesh and a sudden roar of fire and all of it too fast for her to react to. There's too many things happening at once, and Lita's eyes dart across what she can see of the crowd - what to do, what can she do - before landing, finally, on Dare's burst of flames, and the two goblins caught in it. The crowd would make it difficult, but that, she could help with.

"Get out of here, get to shelter!" Lita raises her voice to address the civilians as she bursts into action, drawing her guisarme from her back as she starts to work her way through the crowd.

Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

She curses under her breath, unable to properly maneuver her blade in the throng.

When Naffer sweeps her up into a hug, squeezing hard enough that a few joints pop in protest, Lita nearly cries. She hugs him back, stammering half-managed assurances that his apologies weren't needed, he did as much for her at the time as anyone could expect, she certainly doesn't hold any past events against him. She spends some time catching up, telling him all about her travels, about having found a mentor in a dedicated church to Sarenrae elsewhere, her training and struggles, and about the decision to return to Sandpoint for the time being.

He offers her a place to stay in the Cathedral, then, and suggests it might be home, and that does make her cry, overwhelmed tears that she quickly realizes she can't hide, and she blots with her scarf. Yes, of course she'll stay at the Cathedral, and when the option comes up to help prepare for the festival, that decision is another easy one.

So, that's how Lita spends much of the rest of her time - rushing about town, directed by Father Zantus or by Naffer, doing whatever she can to help prepare for the festival. Which leaves her tired on the day of, but not by so much that she can't enjoy the festivities. She stands by the stage with Naffer during the speeches and the release of the butterflies, scale armor polished to gleaming and looking every part the temple guard, her guisarme at her back, and mutters a quiet prayer as the butterflies take off to the skies. There's a smile on her face, gentle and peaceful, as she spends a few minutes at her station, watching them as they flit through the air following the initial flood. But, as the festivities progress, she leaves her post to wander among them, sampling food from vendors and trying her hand at various games, though never with any real intent to win.

Lita had fallen silent, content to let Scrapeknee field the questions about the Late Unpleasantness, though she did raise her glass in a quick cheers, first to him and then to Willie in turn as they addressed her. She might be confident in her own ability, but hearing a local say her presence would be a comfort was still... Well, surprising, mostly, but a relief, and while Willie's platitudes may not carry much weight, she was hardly about to turn down any well-wishes.

She was, however, perfectly happy to leave the betting to the cousins, though she does lean back in her chair to watch the two of them, occasionally hiding a laugh behind her hand or her drink as they make a spectacle of themselves. She leans towards Conrad and Scrapeknee to join their conversation, keeping her eyes on the action in front of her.

"I don't mind something like cards or a simple contest, but once the stakes have moved past simple coin..." Lita eyes the foul-smelling concoction placed on the table warily, even without the chance of being the one who has to drink it. "That gets a little dangerous." Her tone, still light, still bearing the last hints of laughter, does not suggest a real danger as much as it does perhaps some humiliation.

Lita reaches under her scarf by way of illustration, hooking her thumb on the chain of her holy symbol and pulling a fine silver symbol of Sarenrae from where it had fallen under the neckline of her tunic.

"Before I left town, the Sarenites at the church here helped put my life on a better track than I think it would have found otherwise. Now that I've finished my training and taken my vows, it seemed... right, I suppose, to come back here."

Lita had been in the middle of waving off Scrapeknee's apology - she doesn't take it personally, it's almost a relief to be forgotten so easily - when Willie speaks, and, for a moment, she freezes in place. Those odd eyes go wide, eyebrows raised, as she lets the statement sink in. She blinks in his direction once, twice.

That she starts to laugh seems to come as much of a surprise to her as anyone else, a light, surprised sound that she tries to stifle with a hand.

"Oh, you really just say whatever comes to mind, don't you?" She shakes her head, pressing the backs of her knuckles to her lips as she waits for the last of the laughter to subside. "Your apology is appreciated, but it's hardly the worst thing I've been called." Laughter finished, she makes a motion with the hand she'd covered her mouth with as if to wave away any concerns. It's one thing to know that people were insulting her behind her back, to hear the whispers and to know that the rumors are spreading. Hearing them said, bold and to her face, is almost refreshing, and all the more so for the immediate apology. A poor first impression, sure, but one she thinks will be simple enough to smooth.

She can't entirely help herself, and leans forward, almost conspiratorial, with a cheeky sort of smile. "And, Demon-spawn, if you'd like to be accurate in insulting me next time." Lita shoots him a wink, and, without another thought, turns her attention back to Dare, as if Willie's faux pas had never happened.

"I've been out of town a little too long to know too much about employment prospects. My plan was to go to the cathedral and hope I could be of a little use there."

Sorry for the late reply, I could have sworn I posted yesterday, but it looks like it didn't actually go through.

Oh, that's a lot of people suddenly at her table. Lita knew it was going to happen, crowded as the inn is tonight, but for the table to be so full, so suddenly, of people so talkative, is almost overwhelming.

She almost gets up, worried she'll have to put herself between Dare and Cailyn to keep any damage from being done, but thankfully it seems to resolve itself - mostly, at least - before she needs to intervene. To her relief, most of the people now gathered at their table seem preoccupied, already, in speaking amongst themselves, though she does pick up a sentence here or there that has her interested. Scrapeknee, for one, introduces himself, and she realizes that she does recognize him, vaguely. He was too much younger than her to be among her peers, and not one of the orphanage kids, anyways, but she remembers his face now. Little Hawk, is what the kids called him back then, right? She makes a note not to repeat the name now. The other one, Willie, she realizes was the one on the piano earlier, and hardly seems like he's about to dispel her assumption of him as someone with too much time and not enough sense, but there's an easy kind of charm to his smile and his turn of phrase. She nods, polite, as the two new women approach, gesturing them towards open seats, but she doesn't respond until Cailyn addresses her directly.

"Lita. ...Just Lita, afraid I don't come with much pedigree." She fiddles with her tankard as she speaks, one sharp nail tapping at its side, self-conscious to be around so many well-to-do, and especially to be introducing herself to them.

The Rusty Dragon Inn

Well, she'd been in town a few days, and hadn't been taken in by the Sheriff yet. That, she could only hope, was a good sign. It helped, probably, that Lita had kept quiet, kept to herself, kept her walking routes out of the way and in hours that the Sandpoint residents would be less likely to stumble upon her. She rose early enough to watch the sun rise, and walk around town in the pre-dawn twilight, and would spend her days alternatively re-acquainting herself with the town and its surrounding areas or in her room, with her journal.

Of course the one night, the first night, she had chosen to try and truly test the waters, put herself out among the people, the Rusty Dragon Inn had some sort of commotion in the tavern. 'Some sort of commotion', in this case, of course means Willie's display on the piano. Lita had noticed the noise of the crowd a while before she'd noticed who had caught their attention, but that changed at the first discordant note. That brought her attention to a pair of spats, hoisted into the air by another patron, and belonging to... some nobleman, by the looks of him, trying to muddle his way through some song on the piano, while upside down. For some reason.

Some people truly did just have so much time on their hands, and so little sense in their heads for what to do with it.

Lita huffed a short, quiet laugh, shaking her head and taking a sip of her drink. It wasn't long, though, before she found herself tapping the tip of a cloven hoof against the spot on the stool where she'd rested it, enjoying the music - and, indeed, the bustle of the crowd - almost against her own better judgement.

'Oh, alright,' she thought, as if her internal monologue could address her old mentor. 'You're right, maybe this doesn't have to be so bad.'

Okay, I've gotten Lita's equipment finished and her statblock set up in this profile (hopefully, please let me know if there's anything obvious I'm missing!) so she should be all set to go!

As far as connections, I was assuming Lita would arrive day-of, but I'm also happy to put her in a caravan with any combination of other PCs who might want to have been traveling with her a few days. If that's the case, then she's staying at the Rusty Dragon instead of trying to get a place in the church, and during the trip, she would have kept mostly to herself, though she likes to make herself useful, and would have offered to help carry things, or cook, or tend to any animals in the caravan.

Also @Scrapeknee: Lita's a good 7 years older than Scrapeknee, so they probably wouldn't have a ton of social overlap, but they were both raised in Sandpoint, so I feel like they'd probably at least recognize each other. If you want him to have heard any of the rumors that are mentioned in her backstory, I think that sounds like a fun place for their interactions to start.

Thanks everyone for the nice comments on my art, there will almost definitely be more.

I really like these character image choices, they give a really fun idea of who everyone is.

While we're sharing, I'm a hobbyist artist and like to make art for new characters when I make them, so: here's one for Honey!