As my other AP-based game is running smoothly I've decided to attempt to run the Carrion Crown AP here on the boards as well. I'm looking for 5 players. FYI, I already have one person who has a reserved spot, if I hear from them and they want it. I think most people are familiar with this AP but if not think classic horror, Ravenloft, etc.
Character Creation Guide (General):
I am looking for a solid backstory submission and a brief outline of the mechanics you plan on taking (class/race/alignment for sure, then maybe stats, starting feats, etc). I don't expect or require a full character sheet or profile be created for this, feel free to wait till you're accepted if you'd like. I know I hate creating a profile only to be passed up in the end. If you want to do a full build or profile, by all means I'm not stopping you. Although see the next point.
I am looking for a solid backstory submission for your character. This will have more weight with me than a fully completed character sheet. My philosophy is that mechanics can be taught, good writing and inventiveness can't. Please don't take the time to build a full character sheet and then only submit 2 sentences about who they are. I want to see how well you write and what type of RPer you're going to be in the game.
I just want to reiterate the above, backstory is weighed heavily on this. I only glance at the character sheet when I'm reading entries so don't think having an impressive build is going to be enough to sway me.
Character Creation Guide (Mechanics):
Everyone starts at 1st level. 20 point buy, Max HP, Avg starting gold for your class.
Races: All core. If you want to submit a non-standard race as an option that's fine but you'll need to sell me on it and I will want to see a strong backstory to justify the race selection, mechanical synergy isn't enough of a reason.
Classes: Pretty much anything Paizo published including Core, APG, UM and UC (and all associated Archetypes) with the following exceptions/caveats. No Ninjas or Samurais. These two are too heavily Asian-inspired for my taste for this game. The Gunslinger is available but please note that guns being as rare as they are, you will not have much in the way of support during the campaign. Gunpowder won't be readily available at shops and you won't see a lot of gun-themed treasure coming your way. Just keep that in mind if you decide to play one and are accepted. Also for everyone, I would ideally like a "well-rounded" party so keep that in mind when people start submitting, you might have a better chance applying for a less filled submission category.
Alignment: Anything but Evil based. You guys are the Good guys in this AP, you're generally fighting evil monsters. There will be areas of moral vagueness as in any game but generally you're the heroes.
Traits: You will have 2 traits. 1 must be a campaign trait from the Carrion Crown Player's Guide that you may choose. The other trait will be chosen by me. This will be based on your backstory submission or the general impression of your character that I take away from your submission. If you want to angle for a specific trait, then write it up well in the backstory but it will ultimately be chosen by me regardless.
General Game Guidelines:
Regarding availability expectations it's pretty standard. Some of you may have played with me but I am a HEAVY poster Mon-Fri (10-15 per day) but I'm conversely a very sporadic poster on the weekends. I'm looking for a minimum 1-2 posts per day during the week from you as players. If you're going to be away that's fine, just make sure to let the group know ahead of time if you can. I run a fast game, barring real life snarls, and I like to keep things active.
That's about it. If I missed anything or you have questions, feel free to let me know. I don't have a firm cut off for the submissions, kind of a "we'll see how many I get and when". I'm assuming and planning that I'll have more than enough people to choose from by the end of the weekend but it might be longer or shorter depending on the number of submissions.
So good luck to all and I look forward to seeing what you come up with.
Interested and working up a brawler (either Monk(martial artist) or Fighter(Cad)) at the moment.
Dotting and crazy excited. I will have something up tonight or tomorrow at the latest.
Dotting having a think,
Just as an FYI, imimrtl is the reserved player mentioned above so I'll be looking for 4 others as well. Unless of course his backstory is so unbearably awful that I have to revoke his reserved status. ;-)
@Tierce: Don't have a copy of ARG at the moment although I'm hoping to get it soon enough. Could you give me a brief rundown on what it is and high level explanation of the mechanics?
So tempted to apply, but must resist. Jonasty is an incredible GM, so any players selected are more than lucky.
Be warned, though: He won't hesitate to try to kill your familiar.
Dotting. Debating between a witch and an aberrant sorcerer and leaning more towards the latter.
I'm tempted myself. Enjoying Jonasty's other game a lot.
It's an interesting path. I'm actually running this path tabletop with some friends.
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@DM Jonasty - Stonelords trade in their smite evil for a stonestrike ability which makes their chosen weapon a +1 adamantine weapon for 1/day. At level 2, instead of divine grace they gain a DR/1 which goes up every 4 levels. Stoneblood at level 3 which replaces mercies allows them to start ignoring crits and precision damage. The chance is at 25% at first. At 4th level the lose any spell casting that normal paladin's get and instead can use the defensive stance ability as if they were a stalwart defender.
There's a lot more, but by the time a character is above level 4, you would have the ARG. Essentually the Stonelord is a really good tank archetype for the paladin
@Tierce: Mechanically the alt build sounds fine. Go ahead and throw together a good backstory submission and we'll see where it goes from there.
For my S&S players who are chiming in, thanks for the support! You can apply for this game if you'd like although I will be leaning towards folks outside of the S&S game, just to keep it fair for them. Now that's not to say that you can't blow my mind with a submission and I HAVE to choose you for it. Or if I don't get a lot of submissions or they're weak ones, then of course you'll be reviewed. But yeah, just something to keep in mind.
(And Idyll is exagerating, I didn't try to kill his familiar. I certainly didn't try to save it but there's a big difference there lol.)
Dotting for extreme intrest. going to be working up a back story for a
Mute Barb or Fighter
Interested.
Character Linked. Hope I can get it. I will adjust character for location specifics.
@Jonasty: No worries. I agree that others should get the chance to play in one of your games. Like Idyll, I'm restraining myself. I'm just a huge fan of the CC adventure path so I must use all of my willpower, lol.
For your consideration:
Cassandra Blackmoore, Changeling Oracle of Life.
Tierce's Stonelord paladin, Crunch is in the alias. Working on backstory. Should be done tomorrow, would be sooner but I have PFS tonight.
I took the Chance Savior trait and left the second open for the GM
Sounds like fun. Probably will have some sort of Alchemist up sometime today.
Got inspiration from the Carrion Crown Player's guide mentioning halflings being used in carnivals/freak shows in Ustalav, though I worry otherwise the backstory is a touch cliche.
Ustalav is no virgin to the strange. Metral saw this firsthand from behind the bars of the wagon as it rolled through the counties, spreading its oddities with every jump of its lopsided wheels. As superstitious and judgmental as the wary humans of Ustulav were, even as a child he never failed to notice how they would line up to lay their eyes on whatever new malformation lay before them. Sating a morbid curiosity that their history had left etched in them soul-deep, he came to learn later. Then, though, his boyhood naivety told him that the reasons were all his doing. He was a freak, after all. That's what Feliks had always reminded him, as if being put on display for the damning stares of the ignorant were not enough of a remembrance. He couldn't argue with the man back then, though, not even if he had wanted to. He was convinced that he surely was a freak. His left eye socket was a mess of stretched, almost melted flesh, and the eye within it bulbous, a mix of black and sickly green. His hair on that side of his head grew strangely as well, af it did not want to come near the grotesque organ. His ring finger and pinky were half as short as they should have been, too. He wouldn't have even thought to deny it then; he was a freak. He wasn't alone, though. He was always in the company of other freaks. Some had massively engorged limbs, some were adult humans but no bigger than he, some had bizarre markings or horns or extra digits. One had no legs and walked about on two muscular arms. His parents were there, too, though they were less freakish than most and more there for putting on shows. His mother had a strange look about her, though not nearly as strange as Metral's. She was from somewhere in Versex, but Metral was born in that barred wagon. His parents hadn't met before being put in there together, and Feliks had encouraged them to mate, no doubt fancying the idea of breeding freaks. It worked well enough. The barred wagon rolled along with several others, through lonely villages and crowded cities alike where any and all could look upon the grotesquerie for a few bits of coin. They would gasp and awe and laugh at the specimens, and Feliks would lead them in their mockery. He didn't even quite know how to feel badly about it, then. He was a boy, and it was all he knew.
Sometimes the freaks would die due to their maladies or some strenuous task. His mother was one such casualty, ripped open by some malformed creature that Feliks had bought and put in a show with his parents. That was Metral's first taste of acknowledged cruelty. His second came when Feliks whipped his father to death after he had injured the expensive creature trying to save his mate. The wagon became bigger, then, and much less safe. Without the awkward, forced smiles of his parents, the string of it all became too noticeable. Feliks treated him particularly poorly after his parents were dead, mostly because the man couldn't punish his parents anymore for dying. It was some few weeks later when Metral stopped being a freak and became a force. Feliks made his nightly rounds, disciplining as necessary. Metral had needed some extra discipline as of late, it seemed, for Feliks would always pay him special attention. That night, though, when the whip rose, it fell out Feliks's hand as the man doubled over dead, a smoldering hole in his throat. Metral's finger was outstretched, fuming with a gossamer wisp of acrid smoke. And so he fled.
As he traveled, he learned that it had been his innate power that had awakened that night. He had powers, gifts - force, not freak. He devoted himself to learning all about it from that point on, seeking out information on this power wherever and whenever he could, from whoever or whatever would tell him. He later deduced that his mother had given him these gifts, that she and her forebears had lived in Versex, where the old Kellid ruins were said to bestow strange anomalies on nearby dwellers through their taint. He came to figure that such ruins were the source of it all. Rather than go to Versex, however, he traveled to Vieland, where he heard similar ruins were found. The freedom and relative open-mindedness of the Palatinate was especially appealing. While on his way to Vieland, Metral met Professor Lorrimor and was intellectually infatuated with the man, mesmerized by his breadth of experience and thirst for knowledge. The professor did not look down on him as freak, like so many others had done, but rather as someone special, lucky to possess such gifts. They traveled north for some time before parting ways, but Metral kept the professor's advice and wisdoms close to mind as he struck out into Vieland and even corresponded with the man from time to time.
Metral has spent his time since in Vieland, looking into finding out what he can about the source and potential of his powers. Due to his want to have a more firm understanding of them first, he has only just begun to attempt to develop them.
Male Halfling Sorcerer 1 (Aberrant Bloodline)
CN Medium Humanoid (Halfling)
Init+3; Senses Perception +2
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DEFENSE
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AC 14 (+1 size, +3 dex), Touch 14, Flat-Footed 11
HP 7
Fort +2, Ref +4, Will +3 (+5 vs. fear)
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OFFENSE
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Speed 20 ft.
Melee
Ranged Acidic Ray +4 ranged touch (1d6 acid), 30 ft.
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STATISTICS
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Str 8 Dex 16 Con 13 Int 12 Wis 10 Cha 18
Base Atk +0; CMB -2; CMD 11
Feats Eschew Materials (B)
Traits Inspired by Greatness, TBD
Skills Bluff +8, Knowledge (Arcana) +5, Knowledge (Dungeoneering) +5, Stealth +7, Use Magic Device +8
Languages Common, Halfling, Dwarven
Equipment
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SPECIAL ABILITIES
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Fearless +2 save vs. fear effects
Halfling Luck +1 bonus on all saves
Keen Senses +2 Perception
Surefooted +2 on Acrobatics and Climb
Weapon Familiarity Proficient with slings, treat 'Halfling' weapons as martial
Bloodline Arcana Increases duration of spells of the polymorph subschool by 50% (minimum 1 round). Does not stack with Extend Spell
Bloodline Powers
-Acidic Ray 7/day - 30 ft. ranged touch attack, dealing 1d6 points of acid damage +1/two sorcerer levels.
Inspired by Greatness - Choose one spell. Always cast at +1 caster level.
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SPELLS
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0th - Disrupt Undead, Mage Hand, Touch of Fatigue (DC 14), Read Magic
1st (4/day) - Ray of Enfeeblement (DC 15), Chill Touch (DC 15)
I would like to come up with a Kitsune Sorcerer. Here is my theoretical back story. The character's parents were a traveling group of Kitsunes who were murdered on their way to or through Ustisav because the local townsfolk thought the family were actually werewolves. The character in human form looks local because the first human he saw when his eyes openned were that of the local population so he doesnt actually look Asian. He is a bit confused because he thinks he is a werefox but cannot fathom why he is in full control when in Kitsune form. But he suspects that the fox is his real form but he is in denial.
I could flesh it out some more. But what do you think?
@Edwin: Sounds interesting. I'd need to see a full backstory to really be sold on it but the explanation at least addresses how he's in the area and his unique traits.
I'm thinking Human (Varisian) Cleric of Pharasma specialising in putting the undead to rest.
Well, I'm in Jonasty's S&S game... my character has been flogged, bullied, and practically made to live in the bilges for the first week*
And I'm STILL tempted to sign up for this. The DM is just that good. Very good immersion, always happy to clarify if you don't understand something, and he seems to thrive on the input of the players while still being fair and firm in his rulings.
I predict whoever gets in will be very happy with the result.
* Not Jonasty's fault, really. The Dice just seemed to want my gnome in the bilge for the first few days
Dotting for interest, i'll take a look at the guide and see what i can come up with.
RPG Superstar 2013 Top 32, RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16
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* Not Jonasty's fault, really. The Dice just seemed to want my gnome in the bilge for the first few days
I think it's almost a reoccuring joke at this point. Stick the shortest, and probably least strong, into the bilges. You're like the little old man in the oil tank in Waterworld.
Born to a trading family in Karcau, Elandor Nark showed promise as a disciple and a talented architect for the church of Abadar (God of cities, wealth and merchants). His skills were so advanced for his age that he even gained recognition and tutelage from the famed Professor Lorrimor. Over the course of several months, he and the professor spent hours debating the finer points of architecture, engineering and the civilian applications of necromancy. The Professor opened his intellectual doors and continues to flavour Elandor's outlook on the world. However, his mentor gone, his curiosity about an ancient legendary city powered by the labor of undead drew the scorn of his teachers. The bright young architect has decided to venture out to increase his knowledge and test his personal devotion. The religious symbol he wears around his neck shows a city carried by three skeletons with the motto.
To Serve The Living Through Death As We Are Unable To In Life.
An old man found him and raised him. Unbeknownst to Leonid, his bloodline is elemental because his great grandmother had been a lone survivor of a junk after a large monsoon hit. This elemental scar is the source of his powers.
One chilly evening, when Leonid Vârcolup was 12 years old, he had gone outside near his farmhouse to chop wood. He heard someone scream, being in his Kitsune form he smelled that a man was being attacked by a bear. Leonid cast Elemental Ray and attacked the bear from behind with electricity. The young black bear, in shock and stunned was met with a twohanded axe and a bite to the throat. The man who he saved was Dr. Lorrimor. He is then the Doctor's Chance Savior
His name should be Leonid Vârcolup. At the age of 15, his foster father passed away from old age and he has been trying to keep a low profile of both his sorcerer’s skills as well as his Kitsune self, afraid of how the locals would shun him for being magical and even worse assume that he is a lycanthrope and try to kill him. In addition, he has a lot of angst because he thinks he will go mad because of his abilities.
Sounds interesting!
Class: Druid -- Wolf shaman from APG.
"You won't be alone," the great wolf told him. "you will be surrounded by your own kind. Humans. What you are."
"I don't want to be human," the boy replied. "You told me, as I learn the ways of my father, I'll be able to become a wolf. Soon I won't slow you down. I'll be able to hunt with you, as one of you!"
The wolf shook his head. "That path will always be available to you, should you choose it. But I have decided. You must learn about humans, before you decide to abandon what you are. I loved your father, as I love you. He and I ran together, hunted together, and fought together. At times, he would be a wolf. But he always returned to his true form. And that was human."
The boy barely remembered his human father. Or his mother. The great, shaggy gray wolf with deep, piercing gold eyes was always his true father, he felt. He opened his mouth to speak.
"No. I have made my decision. So long as you remain with us, you will know nothing of humans. You must live amongst them for a time. They are a strange kind, but you know their common speech. You will make friends, meet females, and perhaps decide that houses and cities are not bad things."
The boy would not argue. He would follow the instructions of the alpha male, like a good wolf. And then he would return.
He met no human he liked. He met many who smiled, and said nice things, and made him like them for a little while. But their smiles were just the baring of fangs. He believed them, and was clasped in iron and put on display for others to gawk at.
Humans said one thing and did another. It was like a hunter moving one way to get the prey to move the other, into the jaws of a waiting pack member. The boy was prey among the humans, where his hunters used words and promises instead of growls and bared teeth. And before he realized it, he was caught. The months he spent with humans left him with no friends but his wolf companion, and no understanding of humans except that they were cruel and evil. He wanted nothing to do with them.
Until that one day, a visitor looked upon him with compassion. The humans had put him on display in the Egorian Hall of Curiosities, for all the perfumed and costumed nobles to view. But one elder was not like them. He met the boy's eyes, and nodded. Later that night, the same elder released him and helped him past the guards and out of the city.
The elder's name was Lorimoor, and he took him away from the evil humans. He tried to help the boy find his home forest, but the boy knew nothing of the names of rivers and forests or boundaries. The Chelaxians had transported him by closed wagon, and the boy could not help the elder find his pack. The best Lorimoor could do was turn him over to a druid conclave, and continue looking.
The boy's father was a druid called Greylocke. His awakened wolf companion took upon that name after his master fell. So he called the boy Son of Greylocke. The humans had another name for him: Feral.
Hence, Ferrell Greylocke.
When the Whispering Tyrant finally was subdued by the Shining Crusade and his forces routed, not all of the lich’s forces were laid to rest. The orcs of the Hold of Belkzen retreated to their holes and strongholds but would rise up numerous times over the years to cause their neighbors grief. One of the more recent uprisings would see the tribe of Three Fangs sending raids deep into parts of north and western Ustalav. The orcs were their normal merciless selves: villages were razed, men were slaughtered, and women were raped.
It was thus that Harold came into the world, an unwanted child in a nation that abhors abominations. His mother’s village was destroyed, a burning husk on the horizon, as she and the remaining survivors made the long trek to a neighboring village for assistance. Many of the women sullied during the raid committed suicide in the months after, some from their own inability to recover from the trauma and some from the pressure from the community that they were now tarnished or carried seeds of evil in their wombs. Harold’s mother was a bar wench in her previous life and too tough, or mean as most of the village’s men pronounced, to cave in and end her life. Instead, she pulled up her new roots and headed across the country to someplace that no-one would know her name or the father of the thing growing in her.
Eventually, Harold’s mother settled in Caliphas, the capital, taking up her previous profession in such a seedy joint that she ended up being little more than a prostitute that served ale. A month after moving to Caliphas, Harold was born prematurely but already the size of a very healthy baby boy. His crude features, a mockery of a human’s, were repugnant to his mother and all the difficulties she had endured from his conception to her voluntary exile were placed solely on his shoulders. To say that Harold had a hard life growing up would not encompass the cruel, stark reality of the situation. He was tormented by the neighborhood children, spat upon by their parents, then when he ran home to escape it all, his mother would beat Harold raw and call him names such as ‘Abominable Spawn’, ‘Aurochs-face’, and ‘Her horrible mistake that she should of fed to the dogs when he was born.’ The last name would stick, at least partially, as it shrunk over the years until he was just being called ‘Horrible’.
By the time he was five, Harold was the size of most ten year olds. As the abuse buried beneath his course features grew, it fermented into a deep and terrible rage at the world. The first time it erupted to the surface he broke an older boy’s arm in three places. The resulting beating by the boy’s father and charges filed with the local guards would set the tone of the rest of Harold’s youth. He was in and out of cells or hospital rooms, his face constantly swollen, black and blue, or marked by his often broken nose. His mother could care less what became of her son thus he was raised on the streets more than at home.
Between the ages of thirteen and fifteen, Harold was working with a local gang as an enforcer, breaking bones or shops of those that didn’t pay protection money. This life would take a change of course one night when he was supposed to tear up the antique shop of an older man who looked like he hailed from Tian Xia. The old man, Cho-lum, was supposed to be asleep when Harold broke through his door and started shattering his merchandise but instead he was up doing some late night cleaning in the shop. Already towering well over six feet tall at age fifteen, Harold wasn’t too worried about the little old man and didn’t even know anything was wrong until he came back awake on his back with the sound of guard whistles carrying through the open door.
Cho-lum was still sweeping the store nearby as he told Harold that a nice young man such as himself should show more respect to his elders and neighbors. At a loss for words, Harold was beginning to stand when the guards arrived and took him into custody. The old man didn’t file any charges but Harold was held for a few days just because of his long record as a troublemaker.
Harold would return three more times to Cho-lum in the following week, the first in anger at the little man ruining his job which ended much as his first encounter did. The second visit had Harold still angry but also weary, ready to catch the old man at whatever tricks he was playing. A blur of arms and legs later, Harold was shaking his head clear in a cell again. The third time, Harold returned, asking the old man how he kept disabling him so easily. Cho-lum told Harold it was as easy as disabling a mounted knight in armor, one must merely trip the horse and let the momentum of the big beast and its heavily armored master do all the work. Harold left the old man’s shop with much to digest after a conversation that lasted over an hour.
The next day, Harold returned and learned a bit more from the old man, who enjoyed having a younger fellow around to regale with stories and occasionally help move the heavy object or two. For three years, Harold visited Cho-lum as regular as clockwork, learning what the old man had to teach in pieces. Now most would have cause to fear that teaching a boy, that was filled with anger at everyone, these skills would make him a threat to every innocent person he might encounter, but somehow, Cho-lum had a calming effect on Harold even when the old man would pop the half-orc on the head in admonishment for doing something wrong.
At eighteen years of age, Harold lost the first person he ever thought of as a friend when Cho-lum passed away from old age. Set adrift again in the city of Caliphas, he started to migrate back to his old acquaintances and employment. However, with new insight in his view of the world, Harold found it hard to do the acts of petty, or otherwise, crime that his ‘friends’ wanted him to do. He made numerous new enemies as he started telling them to sod off and instead started to hire himself out as muscle for local businessmen whom had issues with the gangs causing them grief. He made a name for himself amongst the dregs of society, living up to his moniker ‘Horrible’ as most would scurry away to their dens of ill repute if so much as word got out that Harold was on the job.
It was during these years that Harold met the Professor. Visiting Caliphas to lecture at the local college, the Professor was also interested in the rumors of vampires stalking the streets at night. This would lead him into some nasty places that would have seen his throat slit just for the change in his pockets if he hadn’t had the foresight to hire a local tough to show him around the area. Thus Harold came to be in the temporary employ of the Professor, even pulling him out of one sticky situation when they actually did encounter a vamp who was seducing a young lady, a party the Professor accidently interrupted in his haste. Harold was sure he had a few gray hairs by the time the Professor left the city finally. It was strange and with some hesitation that Harold opened the letter from the Professor’s estate that arrived a few months later.
Rough concept will be a Street Performer bard, most likely human, something of a troubadour, more to follow.
then again, might end up with something a little more roguish as well.
I'm currently running this campaign myself, but would love a go at playing it.
And yes, this is based around the main character from Gaiman's The Graveyard Book.
He will be iether human or Dhamphyr if thats ok'd by the DM.
Human Male Witch (gravewalker archetype) (considering making him a Dhampyr, if thats ok)
Alignment: Neutral
trait: Making Good on Promises
Nob was an orphan; one of hundreds--maybe thousands--on the streets of Caliphas. Seeking shelther from the mayhem and chaos of the orphan life, and fleeing the wrath of the children who found him to be too different and the people running the orphanages who found him to be just too strange and unsettling, Nob took shelther in the great graveyard in Caliphas adjacent to Maiden's Choir Cathedral. He learned to hear the whispers of the dead, and to stay out of sight. He grew up there, sneaking out to steal when he had to, and using the fear that surrounded the place as a buffer against the outside world. He was at piece among the stones and mausoleums, and grew older.
His power began manifesting itself, centered around a packet of interesting bits he assembled during his travels. The dead whispered to him, he could see and commune with spirits and even control the undead if he truly wanted to. Repulsed but fascinated, Nob avoided exploring these abilities.
One day, a young girl was among the graves with her parents, searching for the resting place of a relative... Intrigued, Nob found her playing among the stones and they became friends of a sort. She was the only person Nob ever revealed himself to, and the only person he had spoken to in many many years.
Her parents thought of him as her imaginary friend, thinking little of her stories. When the girl turned up dead at the cemetary gates one day, Nob's world was turned upside down. The priests of Pharasma and the local guards searched the area thoroughly, looking for the murderer and justice for the slain innocent. Nob knew the truth; that she was the victim of a particularly sadistic vampire, but he told no one.
And when he was found skulking in the graveyard by the guards, he was labelled a murderer and thrown in chains. Only Professor Lorrimor, aiding in the investigations, was willing to see that the strange boy was not a monster. He helped Nob escape, fearing he would never be declared innocent, making the boy promise to one day return the favor.
So Nob left Caliphas, and spent his adolescence wandering the roads of Ustalav, trying to ignore his growing power and connection with the undead, always mindful of the debt owed to the kindly and wise old man who was willing to see past Nob's unsettling exterior.
when he heard of the professor's death, he found it only fitting to repay that favor by visiting his
this background will include more on Nob's parentage, depending if the ARG race is approved.
Also, not sold on the name just yet.
Potentially doing a Daemon spawn Tiefling Alchemist and may take fiendish heritage if it is allowed.
Working out background now also but I am open to change if it is not allowed.
Oh wow. So I really hope I can keep this although it might be a bit game breaking but could also be a really cool character hook for the first ability. Would give a perfect reason for the subject of study trait with Professor Lorrimor having a natural invisibility to unintelligent undead.
I'm not sure how many unintelligent undead are in the game but it definitely fits the flavor. Working on rounding out the background now.
Had an idea for an elven rogue i'd like to try out, will post tonight.
Was in a CC game that fell apart - the same character should work fine.
Name = goes to character and background. Alchemist with a strong Van Helsing vibe.
I am in a few PbPs and post at least once a day and often 3-4 times a day on each depending on the flow and on discussion and game play.
Mortimer Valdebridge Gentleman Undead Hunter
Mortimer looked up from his notes. The Professor had suggested the introduction. It was no doubt meant for a larger crowd than had actually turned out for his lecture. A dozen young students sat in clusters throughout the hall, many of them not looking at the lectern where Mortimer stood. A smattering of older fellows, scholars, were sprinkled about the room. One was asleep. Mortimer sighed and looked back to his notes.
"I have been most fortunate to collaborate with the renowned Professor Lorrimor on my research." A couple heads lifted at the Professor's name. Mortimer suppressed a smirk. The Professor's name was good for attracting attention. Many of the younger students were keenly interested in the more sensational tales of his adventures. The older scholars and faculty less so, but it still got them to look up.
"The subject of my research is the Unquiet Dead, or simply Undead if you prefer.” Mortimer smiled before continuing. “But I am not here to discuss theory and philosophy, but practical matters. Observations made in the field.” Several of the students looked more interested now. Mortimer walked over to a large chest on the stage and drew a key from its pouch around his neck. The lock made a satisfying clack as he turned it. After opening the chest, he withdrew a heavy, ornate crossbow of impressive proportions. Mortimer couldn’t stop himself from stroking the dark wood stock and the iron filigree that decorated and reinforced it. Placing it on the table next to the lectern he then withdrew several more items. A case of crossbow bolts, a mace, a saber, a slightly damp paper package and a dog’s skull. Many of the people in the room were now paying attention. He closed the chest and unwrapped the package, revealing a hunk of meat - probably pork, and placed it atop the chest.
“Combating the Undead is a matter of matching the weapon to the target.” he explained, picking up the mace, he then said. “The common Zombie, whose form is like this hunk of meat, is not particularly vulnerable to most blows.” He then walked over to the table, selected the mace, and then thumped it full force with the weapon. The meat made a squishing sound, and flattened under the blow. “As you can see, while tenderized somewhat, it is not terribly deformed.”
The students chuckled nervously. All of them were paying attention now.
“But, apply the correct type of force...” he said, grabbing the saber, “and you will receive much better results!” With a swing of the blade, he sliced the hunk of meat in two. Stabbing one piece with the end of the sword, he held it up for the audience to see. When he was satisfied they had the concept in their heads, he dropped the hunk of meat onto the table. “The common skeletal Undead, on the other hand...” Mortimer picked up the skull and placed it on the chest. He swung over hand at the skull, and the blow deflected off the top the blade of the sword clanging off the iron bands on the chest. “Is resistant to blades, but not...” he grabs the mace. “to blunt trauma.” The skull shatters under the mace’s heavy head.
“Thus, you see, we must choose our weapons carefully when fighting our Undead foes.” he says.
One of the students raises his hand. “Uh, sir. Why not just let a Cleric destroy them for you?”
Mortimer’s expression darkened and he frowned. After a moment, restraining the venom in his tone. “Yes, many Clerical adepts are proficient in defeating the Undead, but just as many are the cause of their depredations. Do you not know that many a Necromancer hides under the cassock of a holy person? Their powers are able to create and control the Undead.”
The rest of his presentation passed in a blur. His audience were amused by his demonstrations, but he feared they did not get the practicality of his observations. The older scholars left early, and the students took few notes. By the end, Mortimer, his temper aroused, stormed out of the lecture hall. Outside, his wagon waited. He loaded his chest into it and then sat behind the reins. Shortly thereafter a man approached. “Oh, Mortimer.” he said.
“Yes Rolf?” Mortimer snapped. “What is it?”
“This letter just arrived for you.” he said, handing it up with a frown.
Mortimer forced a smile and reached down to receive it. He waited until the other man departed. He tore it open and began to read, his cheeks blanching and his jaw dropping as he read. “Oh, no... not the Professor...” he whispered.
He sat in shock for a time. Mortimer could hardly believe what he read, but the signiature on the letter could not be disbelieved. The man who had so supported his efforts, who had been like a father to him, was dead. What was he to do without his guidance? Suddenly he felt like he needed to get to grips with something unliving, to tear it apart and end its mockery of life. His memory leapt to the first time he had met the Professor. A hunting expedition of sorts. Mortimer was a callow youth, ordered to escort the Professor to his ancestral burial ground. Reports of the Unquiet Dead in their family’s holdings had reached his father in Ardis, and through an acquaintance Professor Lorrimor was engaged to help investigate. It was years ago, but it stayed in the forefront of his mind. What he and the Professor found in the village was a pall of fear and mistrust. The local priest, a fawning man with unsavory looks, assured them there was nothing to fear. He and the temple were taking care of the problem. Lorrimor was not fooled. He began to investigate, and this forced the hand of the foul Necromancer, who pretended to be a priest and who had dominated the villagers with the threat of a fate worse than death. When the horde of Zombies finally assaulted the house they were staying in, Lorrimor was ready for them, and armed Mortimer and the few retainers they had left with the knowledge and weapons they needed to prevail. Even so, the horror they endured left a deep mark on Mortimer. When he emerged to see the ruin the Necromancer had made of the village and the brutality he had visited on the villagers, animating their loved ones and forcing them to remain quiet, a part of Mortimer’s heart became dark with hatred. He dedicated the next years of his life to studying the Undead and how to kill them. Lorrimor, saddened to see the scars the experience had left on the young man, tried to channel his new passion, educating him on what he knew of the Undead. As he grew older, and Lorrimor was pulled away to continue his own studies, he kept in touch, sharing the nuggets of his own research on the Undead.
The Necromancer, pretending to be a Cleric of Pharasma, fled. Mortimer tried to track him down, but the local Church of Pharasma was intractable and tried to cover it up, saying they were the only ones qualified to pursue the man. Mortimer never heard if the caught him and believes to this day that he is still out there somewhere, and spares time to hunt the man when he can, but the trail has grown cold beneath a pall of whispers.
Mortimer, a deep sadness in his heart, directed his horse home. He packed his things and departed for Ravengro to attend the Professor’s funeral.
He is a Ranger, with the Teacher's Pet Campaign Trait. He will be using the Skirmisher archetype, giving up the divine magic he so mistrusts. He wields a heavy crossbow, and will be following the Crossbow combat Style, but always tries to have appropriate weapons on hand to deal with any undead foe. His first favored enemy is, naturally, Undead. Later he may add Aberrations or Humans.
More to come, and a sheet is in the works.
Thanks!
Submitting Hadrian. Background in profile
Fanguar's Alchemist (beastmorph). Some preliminary crunch and finished backstory are all in his profile.
I hope it's ok with you, but I kind of re-skinned the mutagen ability as an involuntary change that comes over Mithias due to a family curse and the mutagen that he takes is actually an anti-serum that Professor Lorrimor helped him develop to prevent the change from taking over completely.
Mechanistically, I see him using his bombs to debuff and then using the feral mutagen for melee.
Let me know if you have any questions.
I'd definitely be interested. Was in the game that Malthus mentioned above. I'm definitely still what I'd consider a rookie, but I've got some good ideas and can definitely contribute.
This character was designed for that PbP and would need some minor tweaks (stats, etc). Is an Inquisitor, backup combat, healing, knowledges guy.
Theodor Rostmanov
An Inquisitor of the Grey Blades – a sect of Iomedae dedicated to the causes of the church, but not adhering to the strict beliefs of it. Theodor is in his late twenties, a man driven to spread the mission of his faith, even should it mean getting his hands dirtier than usual. To his way of thinking, the goals of Iomedae are more important than his personal view of what is right or wrong. He is willing to do almost anything, provided it (in his mind at least) pursues the espoused ideals of the church.
He has been trained extensively in monster-hunting, but maintains a well-rounded proficiency in all things he is able to, not specializing has helped him to perform the duties he is called upon to do.
As a very young man in the monastery far in the mountains Theodor became interested in the study of the arcane paths of raising the undead, as an ancillary study to the study of demonic summoning and how to combat the summoners of such beasts. He learned his dogma of Iomedae, and how to implement his judgment in the manner to pursue the goals of his sect. Each Inquisitor of the Grey Blades is required at a time in their studies to research and understand one type of threat to the faith, and Theodor chose the undead. In his research of the topic he stumbled across a primer written by Professor Lorrimor on the methodologies of necromancy and the specific differentiation of undead types however the document was incomplete, and Theodor needed to know more. This desire to acquire the knowledge led him to write the Professor and established a chain of communication between the young eager inquisitor and the Professor.
Theodor showed a degree of promise in the Grey Blades. His expertise and training focused him on the manipulation of targets to gain information and the abilities and practices of necromancers. His focus was less on the destruction of the undead, and more on slaying those who seek to use magic to create undead. Knowing that humanoid enemies are far more subtle than the ravening hordes of the undead, this forced him to learn to ferret out information, rather than just smiting evil. The methodology of his sect acknowledged for him that dealing with scum and the worst dregs of society allows them to strike at the heads of evil. While Theodor continued his training he would write the professor with questions, musings, and new observations and the schemes of those he declared to be the ‘bane of the living’.
As Theodor grew into a full Inquisitor of Iomedae he continued to correspond with the Professor, and even was able to convince the Professor to journey to the monastery to present a lecture on the dangers of the undead and the abominations created by the vilest minds who practice necromancy. This friendship continued to the present, when finally a letter came to Theodor at the monastery informing him of the unfortunate death of the Professor. The loss of a mentor and friend to Theodor has left him feeling somewhat adrift in his life, only with the strength of his faith holding him up.
Trait: Teacher’s Pet - +2 Knowledge (Arcana) – always a class skill
Thanks for your consideration.
** spoiler omitted **
Good to see you mate :D 20 pt build so you should be fine.
I love playing in DM Jonasty's Skull & Shackles!
Since I'm in that one, and have run CC at my tabletop already, I'll bow out of this one. It should be a blast for all who play, though! Good luck!
I did a personal survey for my submission and I can have up some prose as well if you want some but this definitely gives an idea on the character. Let me know if there is any questions. Looking forward to the game DMJ!
Where was your character born?
In the city of Westcrown in Cheliax during the Chelish Civil war.
Who raised him?
He was raised by his parents for a time, until the family destroyed itself due to the predations of an Erodaemon named
Meridia, who just happened to be Alexei's mother. After that he grew up on the streets of Westcrown until he was found by
Professor Lorrimor. After that he was taken to study at the University in Lepidstadt.
What was happening in the region when your character was growing up?
Civil war for the first 20 years or so of his life and then the slow and steady rise of the infernal rulers of Cheliax.
Does your character have any relatives?
Not that he knows of, they all died in a murder suicide perpetrated by his father due to the influence of Meridia.
Motivation
What are your character’s immediate goals? What would he like to do in the coming
year?
Find out what happened to Professor Lorrimor, whom he feels he owes his life to.
What are his long-term goals?
Continue his study of the alchemical arts. Find and destroy his mother, the Erodaemon Meridia.
What type of person would be his ideal mate?
Someone smart, who could keep up with him in a conversation. She would have to be able to look at him without feeling
revulsion at the circumstances of his birth.
Who is his patron deity? Is he a devout worshiper?
Alexei worships Sarenrae, the redeemer. He prays that she can help keep him on a noble path and not succumb to the
temptations of his blood.
Is he a devout member of any nonreligious cause?
He is a member of the University of Lepidstadt but as of now is not a member of any particular cause.
Is there any race, creed, alignment, religion or the like against which he is strongly
prejudiced?
He is vehemently opposed to evil in all its forms and especially detests Daemons and their pure destruction of life.
What is his greatest fear?
That his blood will win out like his mother predicts it will and he will become that which he despises.
What is the one task he absolutely refuses to do?
Murder an innocent especially children.
Idiosyncrasies
What is your character’s motto or favorite saying?
Redemption is at hand.
What is his favorite color?
Red
Describe what he would wear if money were no object?
Supple enchanted armor of red leather over black silk robes.
What is his favorite food? Drink?
Due to his heritage as a grimspawn, Alexei enjoys rare meats and blue cheese.
What is his favorite animal?
Coyote (a carrion animal that strips what it scavenges, moving it back into the life cycle)
What habits of his friends annoy him most?
When they are unnecessarily bloodthirsty
What well-known media figure from sports, movies or politics most closely
resembles your character?
Christian Bale from the Machinist
What would be his theme song?
Don't Fear the Reaper - Blue Oyster Cult
If his friends were to write his epitaph, what would it be?
His family was avenged, he finds peace in death, his work lives on, neverending.
What would be his job in modern society?
Mortician
Introduction Questions
Do you have any nicknames, street names, titles, or aliases?
the grey ghost
What is your full birth name?
Alexei Simon Dirven
Where do you live?
Lepidstadt
Why do you live there?
I am a teaching assistant
What is your citizenship status?
Former Citizen of Cheliax and current resident of Ustalav
What is your most obvious blessing or strength?
Incredible intelligence
What is your most obvious flaw or weakness?
Can sometimes be single minded and oblivious to everything except for my work.
Was there any event or cause to cause these weaknesses?
The loss of my family, the horror of that night stay with me and if I am not busy I can lapse into despondency.
Physical Traits
What is your general body type, frame, bone structure, and poise?
Extremely thin and wiry but with a steel hard strength
What is your skin colour?
Pale grey
What is your hair colour?
Jet Black
What is your hair style?
Kept loose and shoulder length to hide my gaunt face.
Do you have any facial hair?
No
What is your eye colour?
Black
Does it change?
No
How attractive are you?
Somewhat attractive in an otherworldly sort of way. Similar to a vampire.
What is your most distinguishing feature?
A pair of swept back black horns
Do you have any scars, tattoos, or birthmarks?
No
What is your handedness (left/right)?
Left
Do you resemble some currently known person?
No
Do you wear a uniform?
No
What kind of clothing do you wear?
Layered clothing in blacks and reds including a hat that can hide the horns.
History
Where is your homeland?
Cheliax
Did you have any childhood friends?
Not many as my parents thought me sickly they kept me indoors. My only real friends were my brother Tomasz and my sister
Sasha.
What conflicts might arise from your past?
I am still suspected of being involved in the murder of my family as the authorities in Cheliax think that I killed my
family instead of my father and then him killing himself under Meridia's influence.
Family
Who were your parents?
Joshua and Sophia Dirven
What did your parents and/or foster parents do for a living?
My father was a well to do merchant who sold glassware.
Are they still alive?
No they are both deceased.
Personality/Beliefs
Do you, or did you, have any role models?
My parents before they died, Professor Lorrimor.
Do you have any great rational or irrational fears or phobias?
Ever since the night his parents died he has had a fear of being poisoned like his brother and sister were before his
father beheaded his mother and stabbed himself in the heart.
What, if anything, would it take for you to be able to overcome this?
It is a work in progress to not check everything he eats, sniffing and examining it in detail before he eats it.
How do you react when this fear manifests itself?
Almost obsessively checking and rechecking his food.
Are you willing to discuss, or even admit to, the situation?
Not unless he has to.
What are your attitudes regarding material wealth?
It is a means to an end but not an end in itself.
Do you have any unusual or nervous mannerisms, such as when talking, thinking,
afraid, under stress, or when embarrassed?
He tends to dry wash his hands and hunches over so that he looks like he is a few inches shorter than he really is. He
speaks softly most of the time but can be quite expressive with his anger when roused.
What is your most treasured possession?
A locket my real mother gave me with a miniature family portrait.
Do you have a good luck charm?
The locket
Describe your worst nightmares.
The night Meridia made herself known and my family was destroyed...except in the dream it is I that is killing them all.
Stalwart here, with an addendum.
Looking at the traits, nothing fits perfectly. I'd say the two that seem the closest are Chance Savior and Subject of Study. Of the two, I prefer Subject of Study (choosing the animal type, of course), and tweaking it to make it fall in line with Greylocke's backstory, having the professor take an interest in the wild child. Of course, Chance Savior has it backwards, since the professor rescued Ferrell. However, it's always possible to say that he returned the favor at some point.
Man, I'm seeing some tough competition. I look at some of these entries and just get giddy thinking about roleplaying amongst such creativity. I don't envy your selection process. Thanks for your consideration!
I submit Cagliostro for approval. Fighter (Lore Warden), Wizard (Foresight), Eldritch Knight.
Cagliostro's was born to a pair of loving Elven parents in a fairly large city several legions away from Ustalav. His father was an instructor at the local mage college, while his mother was a commander of some esteem within the ranks of the city's military. Froom an early age in childhood, Cagliostro was instructed heavily in both approaches to life. He was taught the way of the blade by his mother, and the way of magic by his father. His life was somewhat...cloistered, as a result. When his nose wasn't in a book, he was training with the other soldier's; and when he was not with the other soldier's, his nose was in a book.
Despite that cloistered life, Cagliostro began to get somewhat of a reputation as being a man who could get things done. As a typical 'adventurer' he would do small tasks here and the soldier's or wizards now and then and always to his patron's satisfaction. Similarly, he had a rather impressive record at the military academy as well with a near undefeated sparring history. It was this dedication to the task at hand which made him a perfect pawn in a much larger game.
Towards the end of Cagliostro's training, Cagliostro's city went to war with another city-state for reasons Calgiostro had very little interest in and a few days later one of his combat instructor's approached the Elf with a matter of the utmost secrecy. The man claimed that the city had been infiltrated by spies who were going to undermine the city from within leaving them helpless before this enemy who would soon be at their gate. The man was conscripting Cagliostro, and some of the other top students, into immediate service to bring an end to their sabotage before it was too late.
Nobody thought to ask why the man was enlisting the help of mere cadets as opposed to the regular soldiers. But even if they had, it would have been a futile question to ask as the man had an answer on the tip of his tongue about how there was no way to know how high the conspiracy went and only the lowest level could be trusted.
At any rate, Cagliostro was given his first command. There were six of them, including Cagliostro. All of them were formidable swordsmen and all of them had promising futures within the city's military. The man who conscripted them gave them an address and informed them that everyone who was in that establishment was to be executed for espionage.
The unit complied without issue. They assumed since the order was coming from a higher up, all that moral talk had been considered and that this was the only course of option left. And so, they went to the address, and they killed everyone inside. Most of them were males, and they varied in terms of races. Technically speaking, the operation went off without a hitch. It wasn't until the group was heading out that something happened to catch Cagliostro's eye -- a piece of gold was shimmering from the inside cuff of the shirt of one of the men killed. Cagliostro bent down to investigate it and his eyes widened in horror: a sparrow. The mark of their own secret police force. He checked a second body, and found the same golden sparrow pinned to the cuff of their shirt. Cagliostro called out for the others to stop, but it was too late.
A dozen arrows flew through the air and struck all of Cagliostro's comrades in vital spots: hearts, necks, etc. All of them dropped, no doubt dead and Cagliostro dove for cover behind a wall as a second volley of arrows were loosed upon him. A voice form outside the building ordered that Cagliostro surrender and face trial for the espionage, high treason, and murder or he would be killed where he stands.
Cagliostro cursed as he realized they had been set up. Why, and to what end...he couldn't say. All he did know was that at trial, he'd be found guilty and sentenced to death. Similarly, if he didn't surrender, he would be killed for 'resisting arrest'. Could he fight his way out? Doubtful. A dozen arrows means at least a dozen soldiers. There may be more, but without going outside to get a better look, there was no way to be sure. And going outside to look was not really an option as he'd be shot dead on sight. Which left only one option: he pulled out a scroll of paper and spoke the words upon it and then gestured at the wall before him. A moment later, a fireball erupted from Cagliostro's outstretched hand, and the wall at the rear of the building exploded outwards which was immediately followed by Cagliostro charging outwards.
The two soldiers covering the rear of the building had been caught unaware by the fireball and were still somewhat staggered by the blast, an advantage Cagliostro took. With all the grace one would expect from an Elf, Cagliostro drew his two bladed sword and, in one seamless movement cut both of the soldiers down as he ran. He ran for miles first; and then for days; a week; a month...at which point, Cagliostro lost track of time and simply ran.
Whilst Cagliostro ran, he happened upon a robbery in progress. An elder man was being held at the mercy of some bandit thugs, six of them. And though the scene had nothing to do with him, Cagliostro felt somehow...compelled to act. With a terrifying scream, the fighter emerged from the shadows as, in one blow, he cut down two of the bandits and had raised his blade to fell a third. The third managed to parry the unexpected blow, but Cagliostro used the countering momentum to spin his blade and score a lethal hit with the but end of his sword.
It was at this point the other three bandits elected to charge Calgiostro not unlike how he had charged them. The first to reach him, however, was immediately cut down by Cagliostro's blade as he smoothly pulled the blade out from chest of the man he'd impaled on his blade and proceeded to score two devastating hits on the man: slashing upwards with the butt end of his blade first, and then a devastating slash across which beheaded the man in a shower of blood.
The remaining two bandits got into flanking positions but before they could take advantage of their position, Cagliostro immediately went on the offensive, effectively creating a series of seemingly random whirling blades as he moved, focusing the majority of his attack upon the one before him, and using the rear end of his blades to keep the one behind him off-balance and 'guessing' about where the blade would go next. It wasn't long before the one before Cagliostro was felled under the relentless onslaught of blades which left only the one behind.
The bandit ran; Cagliostro let him. And just like that, the event was over. The elder man Cagliostro had saved introduced himself as Professor
Lorrimor of Ustalav, and promised he would never forget these events. The man insisted that Cagliostro accompany him back to Ustalav where the professor would put him up at the local inn free of charge for as long as Cagliostro wished to stay there. Cagliostro, initially, refused the offer, but the man insisted.
That was nearly a month ago and while the professor had kept in close contact with Cagliostro for much of that time, of late, the professor has been silent. The Elf assumed this to be a sign that he had overstayed his welcome and as he was gathering his gear to depart Ustalav, a messenger arrived summoning him to the Professor's funeral and the reading of the will. Although he didn't know the man all that well, Cagliostro felt as if he owed the man at least his presence at the funeral. After all, the man had put the Elf up in this inn for sometime now. Whether or not he intended to stay for the reading of the will was a separate matter entirely. Nevertheless, Cagliostro would attend the funeral at least and then go from there.
Cagliostro is a keen tactician, and 'smart as a whip'. However, he is naive in his conception of people and authority. He is 'the good soldier' in that he does what he is told to do without considerations of what it might mean one way or another. He has no interest in 'the deep' problems of an action. Rather, he falls back on pragmatism: things are as they appear, the best course of action is the simplest one. There is somewhat of a 'zen' quality to his approach to life in that nothing is really is his concern. He values order, and structure, and a definitive chain of command and hierarchy, but this is more so because he does not concern himself with the deeper philosophical problems concerning these notions.
Morality is a secondary concern for Cag. He does what needs to be done, morals be damned. Those are the concerns of clerics and politicians. His concern is simply to make manifest the will of whatever cause becomes his own.
I would like to submit Kimberly Snow. the backstory is here.
Kimberly Snow, or at least that is the name she likes to be called, never knew where she came from. In her earliest memories she wandered the misty moors lost in a daze. Her only comfort was the voice she would hear in her head.
Believing it her doll that she carried she began to converse with it. She remembers meeting gypsies that took her in and fed her and clothed her. It was the gypsies that gave Kimberly her name.
Kimberly remained a recluse many times talking to herself, or to her doll. This made the gypsies uneasy, and they left Kimberly with the church of Pharasma in Ravengro.
She would always find a place to sleep and food to eat with the church of Pharasma, never realizing the power she held inside.
She would often walk the streets of the small town watching the people go about their business, even found herself the butt of pranks or snide remarks from other children; but Kimberly was always comforted by her “friend”, and her doll.
Even her “friend” would play jokes with Kimberly, moving objects from where she put them last, sometimes playing jokes on the other kids and leaving Kimberly to take the blame. But despite all this, the spirit was her friend.
Professor Lorrimor had noticed Kimberly around town and started to think how she would be an interesting case study. He only knew she resided at the church and almost nothing else about her past. Perhaps her mental condition could be a key to unlocking other secrets.
Either way he knew that Kimberly would not be a willing participant in his studies so he needed to devise ways he could control the environment around her and observe her reactions.
This field work went on for several days as the professor would lure Kimberly into certain areas of the town and surrounding areas where he would have pre-arranged situations. There he would observe and document his observations of how she responded to the situations.
This came to ahead at the cemetery where the professor was not expecting the attack that occurred. His original plan was to observe her reaction when confronted with the concept of mortality (of life and death), however the undead there had other plans.
During an evening wandering the town Kimberly saw a man heading by the cemetery, she noticed that he forgot to make the sign before passing. This did not bode well. Kimberly soon realized she knew the man, he was the man she had seen often as she would take her strolls; always watching her, Kimberly followed.
Soon creatures from beyond the grave attacked the man, clawing and biting into his flesh. The horror of what was happening shocked her and she screamed. She wanted to flee but she heard the voice of her friend once more urging her to go to the man.
Unsure what to do she obeyed her friend and ran to him. In such a confused state she also forgot to make the sign and when she reached him, the monsters went after her as well. Kimberly quickly remembered what she had forgotten to do. Quickly she stood over the battered man and made the sign over her heart.
It was at that moment a wave of divine energy emanated from her driving back the monsters. At this time Kimberly’s “friend” revealed itself as a spirit of Pharasma, and declared Kimberly her oracle. Kimberly saved the man’s life that night.
After the incident Professor Lorrimor became more intrigued at the idea that Kimberly was able to harness such divine energy at such a young age and with no formal training.
Professor Lorrimor continued his observations at the church and soon was able to talk with Kimberly on several occasions though she still remained a bit reclusive, she did open up a bit. Professor Lorrimor was able to deduce that she was subconsciously blocking a traumatic event in her past. He made it a point that he needed to unlock that event so Kimberly could come to terms with it.
He was so intrigued by her condition he decided that should he pass before his work was complete he made provisions in his will that Kimberly spend time with his daughter at his home during the mourning in the hopes that she would provide a good home for Kimberly.
the traumatic events of her past were left undefined at this time to allow the events of the AP reveal them to her as they unfold. And look at the AP two fold:
1) The standard goal of the AP to defeat some evil force
2) An adventure to cure Kimberly’s psyche. (A personal goal)
Kimberly was born from the mists of the Southwest of Canterwall. The villages consumed and left desolate reside there. All of her life, before finding the gypsies was gone from her, or perhaps they never existed.
The “sign” mentioned represents the old superstition of making the sign of Pharasma “A spiral shape with the finger” across your heart before passing or entering the cemetery.
Kimberly knows several of the other children in town but she would not be considered “friends’ with them since she is recluse and seldom conversed with them, but she would know them by name and some she would know where they lived.
Kimberly’s “Friend” is really just fluff and has no game mechanic other than serving as an explanation for the Haunted curse. To those that don’t know any better, Kimberly could be considered to have Schizophrenia.
Kimberly is human (young template) Oracle of Life haunted curse.
she has her Soulbound doll with her and she has no idea that the soul bound to the doll is that of her mother.
Leon is a Dex Fighter based around the idea that getting hit by Undead at all is a very bad thing. Conceptually, he's a gothic-themed monster hunting swashbuckler.
His backstory and crunch are all in his alias. He's tied deeply into the adventure background and the lore of the setting.
As for me, I'm a fantastic writer and a very regular poster. I'm enthusiastic about this AP since horror is my favorite genre.
Please look him over and make any questions or comments that come to mind.
Stalwart here, with an addendum.
** spoiler omitted **
He will start Neutral, and be very unsure of people. The other PC's, being friends of the professor, could be the start of a new "pack" for him. It will be interesting, if he makes it far enough to get wild shape, whether his companions will have shown him enough good about humanity that he doesn't stay in wolf form as often as he can.
(Sorry for the spotty posts, but it's been a busy day.)