Author Topic: Post your character bio here  (Read 74555 times)

Bluebomber4evr

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Post your character bio here
« on: October 23, 2005, 04:36:15 PM »
Hello, everyone! With our second beta getting ready to be open to the public soon, I'd like to take the opportunity to invite you all to post information on the characters you plan on playing.

Where did your PC come from? What are his/her motivations, fears, dreams? What made them become an adventurer? What makes them tick?

You don't need to write it out in-character, but it doesn't have to be dry and dull, either. ;) Just a brief synopsis of who and what they are, where they came from, and why they are the way they are. :)

Have fun!

Bluebomber4evr: The Justice, not you, since 2002

Motley

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Post your character bio here
« Reply #1 on: October 26, 2005, 07:53:43 AM »
The fairytale begins with nobility declaring his undying love to his lover; a half-elf, renowned along the swordcoast for her skills as both a thief and courtesan. There is a catch, however, and this is the part where all semblance of innocence dissapears- the noble in question was not in fact human, but was in fact lycanthrope nobility.
They lived their first few years together as most do, spending their time together in loving matrimony. It was at this point that the half-elf noticed a change in her husband. Her husband, long a devotee of an unknown god began to change, both physically and in demeanour. He grew unbelievably large, packing on bulging slabs of muscle, his visage became more bestial by the day and his mood darker. Slowly he grew more distant and his wife- out of concern for his wellbeing- confronted him. He claimed that his purpose in life was drawing nearer, that he was chosen by his god himself as a crusader against those who would do wrong. He steadily grew hostile, even to the point of violence when she questioned him about his newfound quest. He gave her an ultimatum, follow him or leave him. Over the previous few weeks the half-elf found she was pregnant, yet kept it secret as her husband grew more unstable by the day. She elected to follow out of both fear for her child and love for her husband...



William "Griffin" Thurin's first clear memory was stealing copper coins from his nurse's drawer at four, it was these first memories that shaped his life in the years to come. Griffin grew up in a Baldur's Gate orphanage, knowing nothing of who his parents were, knowing nothing of where he had come from and knowing nothing of what he was. His teachers and nurses were thoroughly convinced he was a thief. Where he went dissapearances followed, yet they could never prove it no matter how hard they tried. Griff would dissapear from the orphanage for long periods and it baffled his carers. No matter how much they punished him he'd persist in doing it, and no matter what they tried he would always dissapear, never to be seen for days at a time. No matter how drastic the measure they took, whether it was locking him in the windowless cellar or even in their own rooms while they slept he would dissapear. Griff, in truth, had more coins stocked in caches around the orphanage all to himself than the orphanage had in it's entire existance, and soon he left, never to return. Griff made his own way in the streets. If it was illegal he could exploit it. He soon found his niche among the ladies of negotiable affection that populated the alleys and docks of the port city and offered protection in exchange for gold. He excelled at his job, it was his calling at the time and he loved it. Griff, despite not being the largest of men had a punch like a morningstar and anyone messing with "his girls" was found battered and bruised in a gutter, minus their coins and a few teeth. Needless to say, the troublemakers never messed with the girls again, not only because of the battering they were given, but because of the shame of having this battering delivered by a mere boy. Griff's skill in a fight didn't go unnoticed and soon he was a regular fixture in bare-knuckle fight circles in the city's seedier taverns and ale houses. He went unbeaten...
It was at fifteen that he gained a small glimpse into his future, it was at fifteen that he commited murder among the alleys, remembering nothing of his crime. Yet more years passed and Griff eventually became the city's premier thief, morally empty entrepeneur and perveyer of all things unscrupulous. Griff, however morally ambiguous he was never tolerated one thing. Slavery. It was at this time that Griff learnt of the owner of his former home and of a Kara-Turian slaver who's grip was slowly tightening on his home city. They were one and the same. The Kara-Turian used the orphanage as a business venture; the orphans after reaching a certain age were sold as slaves.
Griff hunted the slaver across the city, eventually confronting him in his own compound. Twelve people were killed that night, eighteen people were given a new life, free of slavery. Griff confronted the slaver in his den, and in that moment the beast took over. The slaver was literally torn to shreds as Griff's anger overwhelmed him.
Griff took six trophies from that bloody night; an ornate katana that belonged to the Kara-Turian and five chest wounds from the crossbow bolts of the city guard as he was caught...
The mists surrounded them and the guards were never seen again. Griff, however...







Griff has no goals outside of his own immediate desires. Sex, drugs and gold. His life revolves around acquiring all three of these things and nothing more and he will do anything to get the objects of his desires. Griff is rogue incarnate, an untrustworthy, morally ambiguous fast-talker. He's not used to losing, and what's worse, he never does, or at least hasn't yet. Extremities follow him like a shadow, his personality drawing extreme reactions from people, those around him either immediately loathing him or loving him. He immediately seems quite affable, and definitely isn't the ugliest of people and he uses both to take advantage of those that judge a book by it's cover, fleecing them for all they're worth whether it be wealth or emotions. Griff has incredible luck, lucking his way into and out of the most ridiculous and outlandish of situations with nary a scratch, though his companions are never as lucky. He believes himself as the epitome of being free, neither tied down by social standards nor moral boundaries. Growing up with no rolemodels he has no moral boundaries, somewhere within him lurks something that could be better, but whether it will come out remains to be seen. Somewhere within him his heritage lurks, the crimes of his father weigh heavily on his future and his mother looks for him still. What happened to his parents, will he ever grow up, will something that could be better be nurtured within him, what will happen to him when he finds out what he is?
These blanks are for you to fill in. The char is a blank slate, and only his experiences within Ravenloft will change him.  What will you do when you meet William "Griffin" Thurin?

romeo_longsword

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Thrar Feivrine
« Reply #2 on: November 04, 2005, 05:37:02 AM »
Thrar Feivrine

Born and bread in Elven Empire of Cormanthyr, Thrar Feivrine is one of the smaller numbers of Moon Elf in its population, nevertheless, there has been a long and diverse mixed of cultures and traditions, letting Thrar benefits with a healthy up brining of a typical combination of both Wood and Moon Elf, although he does not easily trust others, and even more difficult for the non elves, Thrar is nevertheless a polite young being with a kind nature.

With a Druid as his mother and his father as a scholar, Thrar’s family background is a theosophical one. With the influence from his parents, he has developed an interest in cartography, and which he would benefit from his more out going nature of the Mood Elf. And so, he travelled and practiced the trade, until one day, a strange mist appeared, clouded his surrounding and baring, led him to a land that is difficult to be mark by ink and paper.

StoutKegtapper

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« Reply #3 on: November 17, 2005, 06:06:22 PM »
Name: Stout Kegtapper
Class: Fighter / Dwarven Defender
Alignment: Lawfull Neutral

The Kegtapper clan is known throughout the Highland clans as fierce alcoholics, master brewers, master smiths, great farmers, and usually the instigator to any bar fight. Kegtappers take great pride in there ales and spirits.  Many families in the Kegtapper clan where dedicated to just farming the hops, barley, potatoes, and all other ingredients the brewery needed.  Other families where dedicated to protecting and mining for minerals for the brewery.  In all one could say that the Kegtappers relied on nothing from anyone in order to create there master spirits and ales.  Ale and sprits was the only currency the Kegtapper clans had.  And all other Highland clans consider Kegtapper ales and spirits as more precious than gold.  Food, clothing, and all other items necessary for life and luxury are traded to support the clan.  Stout was named after his exceptionally hairy ass, back and chest upon birth which looked like one big fluffy sweater.    
Stout grew up in a rather large family of the clan as the youngest.  Being the youngest his elder brothers would tease and pick on Stout in all forms of brotherly love.   Most of Stouts early days as a wee dwarf where spent in the Family brewery, which was kept in spotless condition with tender love and care in which would truly shock any outsiders who would happen to see the brewery.  Non Highlanders where not allowed into the brewery though, this is considered to taint the brew and would be the only batch to be exported to outsiders as it was to be considered a “bad batch” to Kegtapper standards.  Many hours where spent cleaning and tending to the brewery.  Many more hours where spent selecting by hand hops or malt husks which where selected and then tended to with great care, what was rejected was then resold to other breweries and considered worthless to Kegtapper standards.  
Behind the brewery is where the Kegtappers did there smithing.  They created there own brew kettles, conditioning tanks, casks, and all other equipment needed for there brewery considering all outside materials would taint there batch.  This is also where stout learned the basis of armor and weapon crafting. It’s a Kegtapper  tradition to make your own armor and weapon to defend the brewery from any form of tainting.   At a young age Stout was taste testing and sampling the ales and sprits and eventually became a connoisseur.  Stout learned the ways of fighting like a true Highland erin both bar fights and on the battlefield.  Stouts temper is as short as he is tall building him a reputation of a bar brawler.  On his free time between batches of ale and spirits Stout would perfect his smithing, taking great pride in his work as would any dwarf.   During the nights you would find Stout wooing the ladies with his drinking abilities at the Inn at the edge of the Kegtapper border which was considered a tourist location known for its cheap prices on Kegtapper ales and spirits.   Stout is known for his lack of bathing (unless he is entering the brewery then he has to bath each time anyone enters), chewing with his mouth open, using his beard as a napkin, fear of large bodies of water, and a natural distaste for orc and ken.  
The love of drink and fight soon took its toll on Stout and his wanderlust took hold with the help of his fathers boot up his arse.   Traveling the lands soon stout learned that he didn’t know common… didn’t know any language other than dwarven.  This is where many find it hard to understand Stout. Should you speak or write to him in Dwarven you would see just how well educated he is in the Dwarven language with proper grammar and punctuation.  Those who travel with Stout will soon learn that he is quick to make rash decisions and is always needing to be looked out after in order to keep the party out of troubles.  Only friends of Stout can change his mind, thus a wandering Stout on the road is best left alone and avoided.   Making friends with Stout is no easy task unless you are a Highlander, then you are considered an instant friend to Stout.  Stout has been seen to cry only twice in his life, once soon after he arrived in Barovia and his keg of ale ran dry that he brought from his homeland and the second when he found out he could never return home to get another keg.  Many who witnessed this dwarf cry can say he screamed like a little girl while hugging his empty keg.
When Stout left to venture forth on his wanderlust he soon was surrounded by trees, then mist... He saw someone down the road, heard a twig snap near him, thought he saw a tree move and decided to run to where he saw the dark figure.... This is all Stout rembers till he awoken with confusion. Stout figured he got to drunk to remember where he was, which is something not to uncommon so he wandered the land.. Thus begins the story of Stout Kegtapper.

Fiddle_Snuff

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Post your character bio here
« Reply #4 on: November 24, 2005, 03:42:46 PM »
Rowena Hallendt

When she was young her famillys wealth was allmost gone, and slowly over the years expenditure and a lack of viable income allmost forced them into a poor house. So they did what any other respectable upper middles class fmailly would do in the same position, they looked for a wealthy merchant familly to marrie there daughter into. As luck would have it they found such a familly, wealthy and respectible, with a handsome son. Rowena was married at 19 and the two famillys increased in wealth and status in waterdeep.

For a number of years Rowena was happy in her marriage to William Eastridge, and when her mother and farther in law died the estate, the Eastridge fortune and the trading company was handed over to william to take charge of.

Over the years Rowena saw that her husband William was not the man she married, and they grew increasingly distant to one another, and Rowena found refuge in the fortunes the marriage brought her, and the status which she enjoyed. As the years went by Rowena grew to hate her husband and her husband unbeknown to Rowena was increasingly growing reckless and foolish with the buisness and slowly wittled away his wealth on foolish ventures, and careless book keeping and expenditure.

Increasingly bitter and prone to throwing the odd glass of Gin at william whenever they thought (wich was allmost on a daily basis) Rowena in her thortys turned into a bitter shrew, who found a refuge away from her husband.

Suspecting she was having an affair (in reality she was up to something much more scandless) William sent her away to there second home (wich they could not actually afford) and on the way her caridge was attacked by clumsy and rather oafish bandits.

Rowena made a narrow escape from the bandits and fled into some nearby woods in the cover of some unusuall heavy fog.

Now in a strange new land, with no money, no status, and no immidiate prospects of getting home Rowena searches a way to escape the mists and return home to Waterdeep. Now she uses her maiden name Hallendt.

Gretch the Wretch

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« Reply #5 on: November 24, 2005, 05:31:11 PM »
Son of a black marketer, Agun Soric became familiar with the illegitimate side of business at a very young age. His father, Elim Soric, was a charismatic man and something of a legacy, as he belonged to a well-known guild of bootleggers in the vast underworld of illegal commerce. When he was 17, Soric's father was killed in an "unfortunate accident", where the young Soric was told a crossbow had accidentally fired off during a dispute over exports with trade partners. These trade partners were known business rivals of his father, and forcibly took over the dead man's share of the market shortly after this- making it clear that the death of Elim Soric was no "accident" at all- but such were the ways that shady businesses operated and expanded themselves. Cheated of his rightful inheritance to the family business by the murder of his father, Soric contemplated to avenge the death. During the night before Soric was about to perform the deed, he overheard that Elim Soric, had been in fact, set-up and murdered by his own fellow guildsmen, along with his trade partners, out of envy for his rising success in exotic weaponry smuggling operations. Agun Soric, distressed by the shock of this news, could no longer bring himself to carry out the murders of his father's killers and feared for his own life. Soon enough, the guild stalked every alley and street in search of the old man's son, declaring a generous bounty on his head. Reluctant to share his father's ill fate, Agun Soric fled the city with the help of a lifelong friend of Elim's, a smuggler and shipmaster named Duston Rams, where he was sailed to the notorious city of Calimport in the cargo hold of a ship belly.


 If there was one thing Soric had not been robbed of inheriting from his father, it was his unquenchable lust for gold. Along with this during the days of his youth, it was Soric's quick mind and physical ability that got him into a local company of mercenaries, called "Straight Silver & Services".
 Using a two-bladed sword - a crude wooden stave with blades fastened to each end, the type of exotic weaponry his father used to deal in- he recklessly dared to do almost anything for the prospect of coin. Soric lived on this way and survived on a sell-sword's wages and occassional gambling bets for most of his adult life. Still bitter about his past and deeply regretful about the loss of his inheritance, Soric developed a steady drinking habit.  Soon, after many public drunken acts and tavern fights, the mercenary company felt that Soric was disgracing their name to clients, and discharged him from their company- despite Soric's violent protests that he could "fight even better when I'm drunk!".



 After losing his job as a mercenary, Agun Soric gambled away all of his earnings in blind misery. His debts owed to dice games and hookjack soon began to stack to great heights and it was only a matter of time before he owed a small fortune to every loan shark in Calimport. Soric became a desperate man, unable to find large amounts of coin needed to repay his debts through any other way than his gambling. He would irrationally make large bets and win it all in one night, only to have greed take hold of his conscience and lose everything during the next. But it was never enough to survive on luck alone, and his bad debts eventually caught up to him. Fat Roj, a sadistic and powerful gang lord, the most dangerous of Soric's debt holders - finally caught up with the rogue ex-mercenary. After being evaded for nearly two years, Fat Roj was furious and slashed a dagger across Soric's left-eye when the debt of twenty-three thousand could not be repaid. Soric was given a week's time to repay the boss, or his life would be taken as payment instead. Soric took this borrowed time to escape and flee the city of Calimport and took refuge in the desolate slum town of Rottport- a place known only not for its poverty, but its rumored curse of witchcraft and black sorcery, for at every full autumn moon, a thick cloud of mists haunted and surrounded its area. Less than two weeks later, it was here that Soric was found by Fat Roj and his lackeys.


Taken to an abandoned harbor to be tortured and executed that night, the legendary "cursed mists" of Rottport swept over Soric, Fat Roj, and his lackeys.. several witnesses and local townsfolk of Rottport still speak of this like a ghost story, as the men were never seen or heard from again..

MalleasNuin

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« Reply #6 on: January 08, 2006, 06:52:56 AM »
Malleas Nûin
Elf, Aerenal

Malleas Nûin was on a secret mission from the Undying Court in Aerenal as some strange, fog took him by surprise.

Malleas, whose familiy was a member of the Undying Court, is not afraid of death. More so is death to all Aerenal Elves a further step in the Path of Ascension. To become a powerful

undead spirit worthy to be whorshipped and to bath himself in the positive energy of the plane of Irian.

Armed with his bow and his strong believes, he sets out in discovering a way to leave this place of death. But in so doing he cant just leave without proof about its existence and

some lore as to the necromantic powers which lies within its misty borders. His curiosity must be satisfied. Until then, he dares not to leave this plane of dread.

Kaithos

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Kai Osprey, Many Titles
« Reply #7 on: January 09, 2006, 01:19:19 PM »
“Land Ho!” The gruff but feminine sailor’s voice boomed just as she extended her telescopic lens to catch sight of Waterdeep. The sailor in the crow’s nest bellowed out a few more commands to her subordinate crewmen down below on the decks.

“Throw that pesky son of shark smoocher over the side lads!” The sailor laughed. “Lets see if he can swim a few hundred meters in chains! Let’s watch the great Osprey fly!” With that they threw the young man overboard. Being bound by chains, the man quickly sank to the bottom. All of the crew members of the pirate ship named “The Bloody Sea Harlot” chuckled gleefully as they watched the remaining bubbles spew up from the water. “

“Well, that’s that boys. Turn about to port, and let’s be outta range of Waterdeep’s ballista. I have no feud with them folks as long as they keep outta me coffers.” With that the captain, Bloody Kirsten Wyrmseeker, ordered her ship back out to sea.

Moments passed, and there was no movement from the bound man beneath the waves. His limp form just bounced along with the currents making his loose fitting clothing mimic the same ebb and flow of the surrounding sea plants. Small air bubbles clung to the sides of his handsome face, and slowly freed themselves to rejoin the air of the surface. Even small fish and denizens of the sea began to swim or crawl towards the man looking for an easy meal. However, the man did not move. It was as if he was dead.

A few more minutes passed, but still the body floated along the bottom with serendipity. It bounced along towards the shore as the tides shifted into high. The moon would be full this night, for the tides were stronger than normal. The waves of the surf were still nearly fifty meters away, but the strength of the undertow was defiantly increasing as it pulled the body several meters toward the shore, and then one or two meters backwards. The body rolled to and fro according to the powers of Uberlee, the goddess of the sea. Then suddenly the body struck one of the many sandbars around the waters of Waterdeep. A flicker of time passed once more, fully three minutes after being plunged into the depths of the sea, when the body was dragged upon the top of the sandbar with only three meters of water separating the abandoned man from the precious air above. The then man sprang into action.

His eye flicked open. The other eye, covered by a patch, could not been seen under the dark cloth that covered it. He surveyed the area by looking upward towards the sunlight. He craned his neck backward to see if the pirate ship was still within his water-blurred sight. All he saw was the water displacement caused by the hull as it made its way back towards sea. With a crooked grin the man; known as Kai Osprey, Many Titles, used his tongue to reach a small pick that he had concealed in his mouth. Once free, he spit it into the water, and deftly caught it with his bound hands by spinning into a complete circle. With the flexibility of an acrobat, he bent backwards enough that his hands could reach his face, where he quickly flipped up his eye patch so that he could get a better view of the lock that secured the chains. With both eyes now in use, Kai Osprey began to work his magic. Within seconds the lock was picked, and the chains had dropped to the bottom of the sandbar with a clanking thud. Slowly he swam to the top of the water, and poked only his mouth above the surface to take a controlled and silent gasp of air. Then he waited. He waited until the ship was far enough away that he could safely make it to shore.

Once the ship was far enough away, Kai Osprey emerged from the water and made a dash towards the shore. It was a long frantic swim, but once at the shoreline he abruptly stopped and reached into one of his many secreted pockets and pulled out a small wooden banded ring. He slipped the ring onto his finger, and fumbled through the arcane gestures and phrases to activate the spell locked within. A tiny puff of smoke whiffed into the salty breeze along with a small beam of energy that rocketed towards the “The Blood Sea Harlot.” The beam of energy bounced off of the rigging, and into the main mast. It then scurried its way up into the crow’s nest to bounce into the protective railing that kept Captain Kirsten Wyrmseeker from bouncing out during rough seas. From out of the railing came a conjured mouth. It grinned at Captain Wyrmseeker, and said the following poem:

“Look back dearest lady

And see what was lost

Your loins will now freeze

Like an old iceberg frost


My sweet sea faring lover

Back on the shore girl

Is the man you tried to murder

Now off to find a brand new whirl


So when you ache for my touch

And know that you will surely swoon

Look back to the shore now lass

And see the great Kai Osprey moon!”

Captain Wyrmseeker quickly pulled out her telescopic lens, and looked back to the shore. Her teeth clinched in a fit of rage at the sight before her. There upon the beach, with his pantaloons down to his knees, stood Kai Osprey slapping his rump with his bare skin exposed. The white grin from his mouth said it all. Kai Osprey was alive and well, and in a jovial mood.

“Damn that Kai Osprey. I will have his head someday.” Captain Wyrmseeker smiled a bit to herself and then closed her telescopic lens once more. “Farewell Osprey. Until we meet again. When next we meet, I may skin that rump of yours and have it turned into a flag.” Captain Wyrmseeker sighed, and turned her focus back out to sea…

The ship was now out of sight, and the wooden banded ring had become a scorched piece of ash. Kai Osprey looked down at it and frowned. It had been a fun tool to use on his enemies… His many enemies, but alas all of it charges were now spent. Then a coy smile came across his face.

“I am in Waterdeep! Rumor has it that there is a fine massage parlor here. Hmmmm…. it may even help me to grieve my most recent loss in love.”  He gave a mock momentary frown. It lasted but a second. Then, with a smile on his face, and a spring in his step Kai Osprey walked into the great city of Waterdeep to begin a new adventure in a new town. He whistled all the way.


Several weeks later, while exploring the depths of a dark forest, Kai Osprey discovered a wall of mist.  Too curious for his own good, he walked towards the mist and parted it with his hands.  After studying the strange mist for all of thirty seconds, he squared his shoulders and boldly walked in as deeply as he could…

He awoke with a throbbing head and a growling stomach. He was nearby some strange camp filled with gypsies that called themselves Vistani…

Now a new adventure begins.


(Feel free to PM me any comments about this tale.  I like constructive critisism.)

Tarth

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« Reply #8 on: January 09, 2006, 01:30:51 PM »
Tarth De'mealthra,

  Tarth is now nearing three and a half decades,

originally Tarth was the son of a lesser noble in waterdeep, and a paladin of the redknight...but as all those epic tales go, something horrible happened ofcourse.

  Tarth fell from grace, when his daughter was slain he made a deal with Malar god of the beasts. So he became Malar's servant through three wars. and during those wars he met another women, eventually getting over his daughter's death Tarth had a son, Renel Trueblade as he was known.

now tarth could not raise a son in the middle of a war so the child
was taken to  his father's house in waterdeep, and  were through Tarth's foes the house of theTrueblades was destroyed, Tarth barely made it intime to watch the house burn to the ground....and his son being taken away.

    even the darkest hearts can know love and it was through this Tarth travel two years tracking his son, intill the mists took him.


oh did I mention thats just the begining?

jalan

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Character bio
« Reply #9 on: January 11, 2006, 10:41:20 AM »
Elizabeth of Somers

When I was 16 the Lord of Somers' Manor saw me working in the field. I was comely, and he thought to make use of me. I was one of his peasants; it was his right. But I resisted. So, to make an example of me to the other girls, he had me tied to a post in the village square. With his newly sharpened dagger he slowly carved this slash on my face.

And then, elsewhere. The pain was incredible, and though I tried not to give him the satisfaction of a scream or tears, I could not stop myself.

Eventually the pain overwhelmed me, and I slumped unconscious. When he was finished, he would not allow me to be tended for a day and a night to be sure the scars would remain regardless of the healing draughts used.

Two years later I hid in the wagons of itinerant traders and so escaped that land. I vowed then that I would learn how to return my suffering a hundredfold, and I would gain my revenge.

That was 10 years ago. I have been on my own in that time. I did what I had to to learn how to move quickly and quietly to get past my foe's guards and how to fight with sword or bow.

Having gained certain skills, I recently returned to the Manor and sought the lord. We fought, and like the bully and coward he is, he ran. I was giving chase when he ran into a sudden mist. As I followed a shadow rose up surprisingly in front of me, and all went dark. When I awoke I was here. Somewhere here is that lord, and I will find him, and I will extract my due. I will find and kill William Somerset.

Ralph_The_Pervert_Moogle

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« Reply #10 on: January 11, 2006, 07:30:17 PM »
ello mates.. names takerday underbush .. tho i prefer people call me tak...funny story 'ow i got ere ya see i was on... "a "buisness" trip ta lovely town called waterdeep.. perty place mine ye...

anyways .. i spend ah weak there mindin me own and lookin fer ah few coin ere an there ta get me by.. when one day lo' an behold ah see some fella an 'is two big friends ruffin up ahnotha fella in ah alley an takin 'is things..

suffice ta say it annoyed me ah bit..seein as i dont righly baleave in robbin poor folk.. well they left da fella fer dead... i kow 'e was dead cause ah checked....got ah nice ring off 'im to..... wha dont look at me like dat.. feller was dead 'e didn need it no more.. besides... i always get paid for ah job.. an i was bout ta do one on bahalf of the dead fella

anyways as ah was sayin.. fella was dead and the other fellers were leaven.. so i followed um.. figured id find thir lil hide out an steal everythin they own... sort ta like karma ya know..

well afta followin dem fer 5 er 6 hours.. .. well i followed um fer 20 mineutes er so when they went in ah bar an spent most thir money dare.... real swanky place to..... surprised me ah group ah alley muggers would 'ave dis much taste..

well after hours 'o drinkin the fellas left an i followed... when they came cross ah huge house.. now im'a thinkin... if ye drunk .. thats not ah good time ta be robbin houses.. ..not that they were sneakin er anythin.. walked right upta tha gate gurds they did.. tho ta my surprise gate feller let um in..seems dis ally mugger be ah rich one... must just get off on beatin up people.. oi thats ah pisser ah tell ya... so ah got it i n me mind this mate gonna pay fer being a arse


round midnight i leave the temple o' tamera..ya know the good luck goddess..... left da ring i got off da dead fella as trubute.. anyways soon i get ta the house.. its little afta midnight anthe guards are doin ah lousy job.. well.. at wantin ta hurt them any.. they just work fer the arse...

after lookin about ah see ah tree growin cloce ta one of the side walls of the gate round the house.. ah hop skip ana jump later im in da yard an afta ah bit of duckin an hidin im at te back of the house..... lucky me someone left da back window unhitched

makin it inta the house was easy nuff.. findin the mate that mugged the fella might be at tad harder.. once again ma luck holds out seems only ah few guards aree inside the house at night... thir easy nuff ta avoid

after another hour er so of waitin an hidin i make mah way ta the master bed room.. the lock on it is way to easy.. ah drunk dwarf coulda picked it

anyways.. creep open da door .. dis feller as alota paintins...almost all dem bein women in ah state of undress an in various compermisin angles.... across da room layin on is overly stuffed bed wit what looks ta be a sortment of lasses there with im... 2 ..4 ..6.. aye.. three lasses in all er.. what was ah countin? .. er.. the feet.. yeah... 3 pairs of feet..not includin da fella that is..anyways i think ta maself arses like this fella should never av ah life dis good..

but what could ah take ta make him suffer... sure e as riches everywhere. but probly more somewhere else.... i couldent still nuff ta make ah dent in is coin..

hmm.. well eh seems ta love the lasses..... an id 'ate ta see some kid be born ta this arse an grow up jus lik um... well first off best look fer ah way outa ere fast first.. .. once again mah luck old ture an the roof outside tis bedroom window is close ta ah flag pool wavin this fellers standerd. ah unlatch da window fer ah fast excape.. cause i know un gonna need one ere soon..

slowly ah creeps across da room an up on ta da bed...oi... thats squishy.. er um ah mean i accidently nuged one of da lasses she opend er eyes but ah could tell she was still more sleep den anythin.. probly drunk to fer all i know.. lass didnt stay up long.. in bout 4 er 5 seconds lass was back countin sheep... er whatever it was she dose..

well ere on i rather not go inta details bout what append les just say  the fella is short ah stick an berries .. course the screamin woke da lasses.. an half the guards

 fella got up out da bed holdin is bleedin wound an shot me ah evil stare ta wich ah gave ah smile an stated.. "ye thin twice bout robbin people in alleys now ya wangless bastid" and proceded ta jump out da window an down ta the yard.. heh.. funny thin.. all the guards went in da house.. was more er lass i quiet lil walk out da front gates....

cept dats when da other two fellas that was with the wangless wonder when 'e was robbin that other fella showed up..

well they was surprised ta see me  as i was ta see then.. luckly these two were dumb as bricks an as agile  as oxen so evadin them was lil trouble... tho they were persistant chased me all ova da town till i made me excape out da front gate an lost dem in the woods... runnin blindly fer ah hour er so i finaly stoped ta rest.. nex thing ah knowim wakin up ta some gypsies .. well day went by ah found out im not inma home lane no more... hell.. not even on mah home plan

on one hand im scared not knowin where ah  am... on the other hand... da wangless wonder an the bull head boys dont know eaither... mabey i kin lay low ere..im sure ill find mah way home some day while im findin it all that hassle in water deep will be blown over... er.. i hope

Marius_Manners

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« Reply #11 on: January 11, 2006, 10:29:59 PM »
//Unlike the newspapers, this is not for anyone but me to use IC.

For just over 80 years the Manners' have been a part of Barovia. The first was three generations back. A man from Toril, wise and aging was in his study. He was reading and studying, as was his custom. "A sharp mind is a quick mind, and a quick mind is the kind that strives," Was his motto. For a man of his intelligence, it was not great, but it was good advice, at the least.
His name was Marcus Manners. In his youth he had been quite the dashing young man; Now he was graying, had crows feet on his eyes, yet still held a spark for life that kept his eyes intense and his jaw squared.
He was a teacher by trade, and a student by hobby. As a rule he only taught one person at a time, and he required them to be mature enough to understand the importance of studying.
Now, as he sat in his study, studying as life-long students will, something happened that his studies had never taught him. Dark gray mists enveloped his room. He went for his lantern, but the light did little to help his visibility. He scooped up his large book and stumbled out the door and into the hallway, but they too were full of mist and fog. He ran down the stairs, but the stairs leveled out into a dirt road and not carpet.
For days he wandered the mists until his stomach had given up on growling for food. Then, as magically as they had come, the mists departed, and before him stood a small, quaint town, bordering a large foreboading castle.
He came to live here, and came to call it as the locals did: Barovia.
His clothes were rich and bright, so he began to don modest earth tones. He also fell in love, finally. All his life he had been trying to find love, and it took him getting lost for it to find him. He married a young Barovian woman 30 years younger than him. He was shunned by the villagers, but she didn't mind. She was shunned too, for she was a widow. They made love nightly, their lust for each other never fading for an instant, until the day death seperated them.

Before that happened though, they had a son whom they named Maximus Manners. Marcus taught Max from the day he was born all the things which he had learned in his own studies. An educated child, Max was often held in contempt by the xenophobic villagers of Barovia, yet he contained the same zest that his father did, and so his eyes showed intense and his jaw squared as well. As he grew older he began to teach his father a few things even, and together they wrote these things in the large collection of his fathers lessons, in the large book he'd brought with him through the mists. His father taught him, "There are good people, and bad people. Some people will accept you for the educated man you are, and some will shun you for it. The latter are ignorant, and they may not wish to change that. You can't make them, so move on, and find someone who will accept you." Max did move on, and moved on often. Still, he was stalwart and cheerful, and eventually found a woman who accepted him. He was not nearly as old as his father when he wed, yet was still just as excited about her as his father had always been for his mother. He loved her often, and before long he too had had a child.

Meril Manners was this childs name. The beginning of his childhood was happy, but around the age of eight his grandfather Marcus died at an almost unnaturally old age. One year later his grandmother died as well. It was rumored that she died of a broken heart. He took these deaths hard, and the life faded a bit from his eyes. His jaw slackened. Children made fun of him for his education and proper tongue, and he fell deeper into despair. His father tried to pull him out of it, but death had not yet released its grip on their lives. Merils mother, Max's wife, died young. Max and Meril suffered in the following days, having lost everyone they loved, but each other. Max tried to teach Meril constantly then, as he had the same greed of knowlege that his father did. Meril would have none of it though. He distanced himself from his father, his studies, and gave in to the torments of the neighbor children. He found himself lost in a black sea of sorrow. Misery rained on him like freezing water and chilled him to his bones. He finally took the only stand he knew how, and with sad eyes and an unfirm jaw told his father that he would no longer continue his studies. The legacy was broken. His father cried hard then. As hard as he had at the loss of his parents and his wife. Perhaps harder. Still, he watched over his son with all the love a father is capable of, and gave him ground to walk on. Eventually Meril came to love his father as well, yet still found he resented him. For his studies, for his charm, his wit, and perhaps most of all because he was still alive. He didn't go down with the ship. He took the large book of Marcus Manners when it was his time to carry it on, and locked it away in his room, never to open it again.
Meril wed a Barovian woman as well, and had a son and no daughters, just like his father and grandfather. She was beauitful, and kind, and soft, much like his mother had been. He even thought she resembeled his mother, though he couldn't remember truely what she looked like.
Just like his father and grandfather, they had one child together. A son.

Marius Manners was born the son of Meril Manners, grandson of Max Manners, and great grandson of the wondrous and late Marcus Manners, 7/8th Barovian. He did menial work often, laborous chores, and everything else his father asked him with a hop in his step. He often baled hay, cleaned up after the cows, even had several crushes in his youth. He shared kisses with them often, in his daydreams. His eyes were intense and his chin was squared. The Manners once again had a lust for life. His father never tried to smite it out, though envied it much, as he had with his father. He also would not teach the young Marius, so that burden fell upon his aging grandfather. Max taught Marius everything he could remember from the book, except for the most important of lessons. Those he could not be taught until he was a man. It was a rule passed down much as the legacy had been, from Marcus. No one can learn the most important knowlege possible until they could truely appreciate and understand it. Marius was taught tongues- Many tongues! He was also taught math, anatomy, and even came to his grandfather for advice on girls, from time to time. Marius had an eye for them, and it caused his grandfather to smile, despite the inherant dangers of such a thing.
Sadly the lessons could not carry on. His grandfather Maximus passed away while he was still a teenager. On his deathbed he whispered some secret in Marius' ear. Marius went home, found the locked chest in his fathers room, and cracked it open. He fled his house with the book in hand, leaving his life, his crushes, and his family behind. He would study, he would learn first hand from life experiences, and he would not be weighed down by his fathers hand.

It was time for Marius to become a man.

DarkWyvern

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« Reply #12 on: January 15, 2006, 12:40:03 AM »
Character name: Idelle
Class: Druid
Deity: Nobanion, King of Beasts
Alignment: NG
Race: Human
Sex: Female
Colour Hair: Deep blonde/gold
Colour Eyes: Deep violet with blue flecks
Colour Skin: Coppery tan
Distinctive characteristics: Tribal tattoo starting from above her left brow, tracing down over her eye and along her neck and shoulder.


Born under the Sign of the Stone
and with New Selûne under the sign of the Eagle

Those born with Selûne under the sign of the Stone are complex, tenacious and fearless. Proud and independent, they have great strength of character and rarely compromise. They thrive on challenge and have an innate belief in their own destiny.

Those with Selûne under the sign of the Eagle are determined, resilient and ambitious. Good organisers, leaders and strategists, they are not deterred by setbacks, believing hard work, patience and persistance will triumph. They are loyal but reserved in showing affection.


Summary:

- Home lies within the jungles of Mhair.
- Protective of those bullied or abused

Personality, issues & mannerisms:

- Straight forward, honest to the core
- Considerate to those less fortunate than her.

Goals & dreams:

- To find her way back to her jungles
- To end the threat of Malar with her pridemates.

Languages:

Common
Druidic
Chultan


History:

The nights were warm in the jungles of Tashalar. Idelle was born, daughter of the high shaman of the Blackmane Tribe. Her tribe, charged with protecting the secrecy of the jungle wemics as well as disposing of the malarite threat.

Idelle even as a child was strong-willed and protective of others. Her best friend a boy two years younger than her, bullied by a druid in training. She stood up for him, and proved her prowess even then. She and Ethan became fast friends, and inseperable in hunts as they grew into adulthood.

She was chosen to follow in her fathers footsteps. With four others, her time to be inducted into the druidic circle had come. Their assignment: To destroy the Malarite pack that was demolishing a pack of direwolves not far from their camp. The four chosen set out on their hunt, and came upon their enemy. Unfortunately they were too late to save the canines, but not too late to decimate their murderers. Screams echoed throughout the jungles that night, but only the blackmane hunters returned unscathed. Idelle was the last to return, a large bundle in her arms. While they did not save the entire pack, they succeeded in their test for she found a hidden pup and took it under her wing as guardian yet again showing compassion and protection for the weak. Justice was set in the name of the great lion king, and that night she was marked with the tribal glyphs to signify her status as a druid.

She and the pup had become close companions, though Idelle never stopped teaching her to hunt on her own. Together she, ethan and the pup sought out their prey, blessed it in Nobanions name and brought it back to provide for their tribe.

However one night, upon their hunt they were ambushed by three malarites. They managed to kill two, the other ran in cowardice. Idelle took after the fiend, fast on his heels with her wolven companion close behind. She could hear Ethan calling to her, but as they entered thick mists his voice was drowned out. She slowed to a walk, squinting to see where the coward had run off to, but then was hit from behind. All went black, but then she woke in a strange world, her young companion nuzzling her cheek trying to wake her. The mists yet again claimed its prize.

Bunar

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« Reply #13 on: January 15, 2006, 05:52:19 AM »
Bunar comes from the Mithral Halls and is of the Battelhammer clan. His father was one of many blacksmiths there and his mother was a baker but even though his ftaher was a blacksmith Bunar didn't learn the art himself. Inspiered by the tales of Bruenor Battlehammer and his adventures he rather trained combat to himself become as famous as Bruenor.
   With the gole to do such as great deads as Bruenor had done and to perhaps become a king like he became when he took back the Halls Bunar took farewell of the Mithral Halls and joined a caravan heading south.
   Many years passed and Bunar lived on working as a merchaneri for anyone that paid enough. Bunar continued like this with his old dram fadding but a new one growing. His old gole had been replased by earning as much gold as possible, if he couldn't become a king he would atleast be as rich as one.
   There for he took many works that was on the edge to unlegal or sometimes over the edge. Bunar is now 174 years old and has hunted for his dream in 131 of them and he is not closer then he was when he stared when he lost everything to the mist.
   He was on his way to Waterdeep as a guard for a caravan when the mist took him. When the caravan set camp two days from Waterdeep Bunar sneaked away when they all had fallen asleep and he killed the guards that was still up. He had made a deal with some local bandits to help them robbing the caravan for a part of the gold. He never found the bandits though before the mist came.
   Now Bunar is lost here in Ravenloft and the onlything he regrets is that he lost all his gold. There is no point in trying to get back now either. If the bandits had been succesful in his attack all his stuffs would be gone, they were not likely to try and find him an probably didnt care what happened to him. The people on the wagons probably didnt care much either, if they had survived they probably though he was dead and left as soon as they could.

Bunar dosn't like to kill innocent but if the gold is right he will do it even if he will regret it after. The rules Bunar follow is simpel:

1. If the gold is good enough for the work then take it.
2. Finish the work unless it shows that the risks is bigger then expected.
3. Keep your word to the employer and don't turn on him for a better ofer unless he has lied to you about the risks or the context.
4. Try to avoid harming innocent but if they are a risk that you will get discovered kill them.
5. Someone didn't pay you but promisse a part of the treasure you don't need to stay loyal to him until you have the gold in your hands. Likewise if he first pays you first when the work is done.

It's not likely Bunar will risk his life unless he can earn something on it but he still has his old dreaming glowing in the back of his head and if he thinks he can make his name famous on an adventure he will probably join it, but if the risk is to great then you can turn around and run when every you want.

Bunar is mostly driven by greed and would kill a friend if it's enough gold and he havn't been paid by the friend to protect him. If he have to kill a friend he will of course want more gold and if it's a friend he know that can fight it will cost even more.

The Gods are something Bunar tries to keep away from and he dosn't woreship any of them. He don't mind the healing powers of a cleric but he will not take a work from a church that is to attack another Gods church to avoid problems with higer powers.

Signature made by Ophelia712(Asynie), the critics says... A masterpiece

Gamerofthegame

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« Reply #14 on: January 15, 2006, 11:26:05 AM »
Myssia Sil Korran,

 In the shining world of Eberron, the contenint of Khorvaire, the country of Zilargo, and the city of Korranberg, was a female gnome named Myssia Sil Korran. She is part of one of the great families of Zilargo, but was on one of the lesser branches of the family. However, still she studied at the great libary and soon enough, was given the ability to become a diplomat of Zilargo, a great honor. But I am getting ahead of myself.

 Well... instead of saying her grand entire life, I'd rather say imporant notes. Around eleven years, she began to pick up the use of a Tamborine, and at 13 years, she found out her first casting, which was a mere light spell, but hey, one of the best spells in the world. Around the age of 19 she was notfied that she had the choice to continue study at a Korranberg colledge, or go to the colledge of Zilargo, which teached people imporant goverment postions. Now, her postion wasn't grand, but it was imporant. It was a diplomat.

 Now, the thing about a diplomat is that around thirty to forty gnomes have the ability to take the potion, but over a span of four years those gnomes are dropped out, and take differnt, less imporant goverment jobs. Mainly because the leaders of Zilargo find that sometimes it hurts a person to much mentaly to have such a knowledgable job suddenly be ripped away and you having nothing to go on very... disturbing.

 It was at her first year when one of the lesser people, one of the ones that probably wouldn't become a Diplomat, hired three thugs, a dwarf, and two gnomes. They abducted Myssia when she was buying things at the market, and taken away to a cave. Eventualy a band of adventurees passed by, only about two days after being abducted, and freed Myssia. They brought her along to a journey to some magical ruins only a few days north, which wasn't that far from Korranberg, so she decided to go.

 The band itself wasn't really imporant to this tale, just a go too thing.

 When the band reached the ruins, they merely walked in to the old building when some sort of cloaked figure attacked. Myssia ran deeper into the ruins to escape, not seeing the figure again. Thats when she tripped over a rock, and fell into a misted over pit.

 Now then, the only reason why she can speak common like other people is because she was given a amulet of tongues, it having a lesser power in the mists, giving it the ability to only speak common of all the lands.

 
 Lately Myssia has begun to think that the mists is the deathly Mournlands, and that the state of Barovia is just a small surviving area left. Magic being feared due to the destruction, and somesort of curse to forget about the destruction itself. Now, she also beleives that she is along the lake of Cyre, around one of the large bays, which might have been blocked off from the rest of the lake in the epicdemic. Which means quite simply...: Mror holds is to the north, or the Talanteen plains are to the east.

Timpani - Human Barb. of the Talenta plains
Mariska Petratsch- Nerullie priestess

Xianio

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« Reply #15 on: January 19, 2006, 02:23:14 AM »
Name:  Gorgar Rotmonger
Skin Colour:  Black, with slight hints of Green
Race:  Black Orc
Height: 6'6'' with an addition inch per level.  ex: lvl 6 = 7 feet all
Girth:  Very large yet solid dispite the appearence.

Features:  Like all orcs Gorgar has large fangs protruding from his oversized lower jaw.  His skull is sloped downward making his jaw able to open far wider then any human could achieve.  He carries many many scars all over himself.  A fact he wears with pride.

His right eye has a scar overtop of it making it useless.  Both of his eyes however still can grow to be bloodshot should he become enraged.  

Height/Muscle Mass:  Gorgar like any orc continues to grow as he ages.  His body will become top heavy, beginning with massively muscular shoulders and arms.  Followed by his stomach gaining girth.  This size however will not be entirely apparent unless Gorgar should raise to his full height.  His massive muscle weight will force him into a slumped position.  This will force him to be hunched over at nearly all times.  He will begin to appear much like a lumpering ogre.  This will however give Gorgar an appearance of being 6'6'' nearly all the time.  His hunched frame will make his arms seem far longer then they should however.  Once getting much older his arms will seem as if they nearly reach the ground.

Skin and Pain:  Orcs are an interesting species in many respects.  As they age there skin becomes almost scaly and tough.  Much like a natural leather.  This has the side effect of making them able to shrug off many lesser wounds.  Pain for an Orc is not like pain for most.  Orcs feel pain in far lesser degrees then men and a massive amount of damage must be given before an Orc will stop fighting.  Many times blows that would cause a human to pull away will only cause an orc to lash out harder.

Thought Process:  Gorgar isn't stupid persay.  Much like his other Orcs Gorgar is simply very single-minded.  Instead of considering the pros and cons of many issues he will simply "do."  While men might take time for deeper thoughts an orc will simply not bother with such things and focus rather on whatever task he should be focused on at this moment.  (which is often times violence)

Clothing:  
(What Gorgar wears is always similar if not the same.  If he is not wearing such things at any time he either has them on his person or trying to amass items to reach this goal.)

Da Scarer Mask!
-Gorgar wears the skull of the most dangerous creature in the region.  This will often come as a werewolf or perhaps vampire.  The lower jaw of the creature is missing as this allows Gorgar's massive mouth room to move.  The eye holes of the skull will always be enlarged so Gorgar is able to see perfectly.  Attached to the skull are massive horns from creatures nearby.  Always taking the most dangerous creatures horns that he can find.  Hanging from the horns are skulls from lesser creatures that he has killed.  These are most often human or dwarf skulls.  On rare occasions Gorgar will take the time to light candles inside these skulls making them glow an eerie orange as they dangle from the side of his helm.

Tuff Armar
-  Gorgar's armour is full of spikes and dangerous edges.  It is ill-maintained and often broken in many areas.  The massive size of his arms does not allow for protection along his biceps.  The plating around his forarms are often made-up of two or more armbands which have been placed there and tied together using chain or string of some sort.  Around his waist is a massive belt which holds skulls and fangs from recent and old kills made by Gorgar.  These will often be tied there by the previous owners of the heads hair.  His gauntlets have massive spikes over each knuckle which help for extremely powerful punches should his choppa be unavaliable.  Finally Gorgar wears around his shoulders the skin from a massive beast.  Gorgar's main goal is that of the skin of a werewolf lord's skin around his shoulders.

Gorgar's Lumpin' Choppa of Choppain'
- Gorgar's Lumpin' Choppa of Choppain' isn't exactly any one weapon persay.  This name is however always given to the biggest and scariest axe in Gorgar's arsenal.  This axe is always massive in comparison to most.  Gorgar just as often weilds it in one hand as he does in two using his open hand for grabbing his foe to make sure they don't move as his choppa comes streaking for there head.  Tied to the bottem of his axe are more skulls of recently dead victims of his axe.


(Final note:  Should there be any wonder as to what Gorgar looks like when fully equiped and properly aged (approx lvl 12-14) refer to the sig)

Lyrithean

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« Reply #16 on: January 23, 2006, 08:04:52 PM »
Name: Neset Dana
Race: Elf

Hair Color: Currently Blond

[Nesets Past]
The oldest of two siblings, Neset and his brother Lyrithean, grew up on the island of Evermeet listening to their fathers tales of myths and legends from the elven peoples past. And although both were born with the gift to be bards they enlisted with the the city militia for the possibility of adventure. Lyrithean chose to be stationed outside the city in one of the outlying guard posts, Neset chose the City Guard and eventually moved up to become one of the guards stationed to protect the Royal family. Their homelife was jovial and happy and both are benevolent pranksters, although Neset has become the more practical and serious of the two thanks to the time he has spent as a Royal Guard. Since his childhood Neset has been plagued with dreams of mists and foul creatures, and he always believed that these dreams were caused by his fathers stories, however as he spends more time in Ravenloft he is beginning to wonder if they weren't premonitions of his future.

[How he came to Ravenloft]
Nesets entry into Ravenloft isn't glorious or something of legends and tales. It begins simply enough with him returning to his family for a night during a holiday. He remembers going home and staying at his families residence just outside the city, he remembers resting while waiting for his brothers arrival. He also remembers being stirred from his rest by his mother when his brother had not arrived as expected and going out onto the road through the forests to one of the outer guardposts near the city. On the road walking to meet his brother is when the mists took him, quickly enshrouding and blinding him to his surroundings, he tried in vain to find the road again but eventually decided to sit and wait out the fog next to a tree and there dozed off to awaken outside the Vistani camp.

[Neset Present]
Due to his dreams Neset often appears to be unfazed by the horrible things he sees in Ravenloft. In all actuallity Neset is still unsure as to weather he is awake or still dreaming caught in some horrible nightmare from which he cannot wake. He thinks he is still trapped in a dream brought on by his wandering through the mists in the forests surrounding his home. He hopes that in reality he is still resting with his back against a tree no more then an hours walk from home. His belief that this stay in Ravenloft is all just a dream makes him almost fearless, except when he feels that the dream is about to get worse. However Nesets biggest fear inside this dreamworld is that he may one day lose control of his dream self altogether and at times of great stress he starts to lose control of the discipline and composure he learned as a Royal guard. And sometimes he feels his sanity start to slip away, as the part of him that knows that this all isn't a dream starts to surface.

[Nesets Future]
Neset may come to realize that his stay in Ravenloft isn't a dream, that his dreams through childhood were actually of Ravenloft. What that will do to his sanity no one knows. Or he may continue to believe that he's trapped inside a dream and go mad trying to find ways to wake himself up. But for now Neset is willing to play along with the dream, believing that dreams are the inner selfs way of communicating with the outer self and he needs to let the dream play itself out before he can wake up.

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« Reply #17 on: February 14, 2006, 04:17:44 PM »
Perin Asher

In the backwoods town of Waterhole there lived a group of folk predominately of Halfling descent.  Waterhole was a one-pony town with not much to show unless you counted the bountiful supply of mud that passed for a main street as something interesting.  The population numbered roughly 240 halflings, one grumpy and ancient gnome and one poor, downtrodden half-orc.  The gnome served as the little hamlet’s doctor, blacksmith, leatherworker and butcher (hence the foul mood).  The half-orc, or Hargor as he was called, aided the halflings in any task that required more strength or height than what their diminutive size could muster in return for food and shelter.

Time came and went without much change in Waterhole.  They farmed the many kinds of tapers that they sold to passing merchant caravans (elves for the most part, some humans).  There were barn dances and feasts, and most of the town’s children spent at least one day a week in school.

Keeping the law in this sleepy town was a particularly stout halfling with a head of the most out of control orangish-red hair you’ve ever seen.  It curled and twisted in such a way that his head looked to be alight with fire.  His sideburns grew so long that they could almost be tied beneath his chin.  Paddy Asher was his name, and with his wife Pamela (also with red hair, albeit more in control) they bore a son, Perin.  The poor boy was born with a face that only a mother could love, and love him she did.  What Perin lacked in looks he made up for in common sense and book learning.  Somewhere around the time the boy was born, his father got him a shaggy mutt of a puppy, that they named Rufus.  Perin was lavished with all the attention his mother could give, right up until his younger sister Peri was born.  Pamela made sure that Perin learned responsibility by letting him take care of his sister on many occasions, and Paddy hoped to make sure Perin followed in his footsteps as a lawman.  Sure, there wasn’t any law to keep, but Paddy insisted that someday there might be, and it wasn’t going to be the Asher family that backed out on it’s word when the time came, for he was paid well enough for not a lot of work.

Paddy and his son tended to broken fences outside of town, saw to problems with wolves killing livestock at night and all the other tasks that couldn’t be taken up by the hard headed but kindhearted farmers.  Perin learned to shoot a bow at an early age and the gnome who tended to Perin and Paddy’s equipment was always willing to let the boy sneak out and test his latest inventions.

Things moved along like this for quite some time, and Perin was getting to be just old enough to see to some of his Father’s business alone (although trailed by his now elderly dog Rufus in tow) when things changed.  The moon that the halflings used to gauge the growing seasons and festival times became a thing of dread, for it brought with it a creeping mist that bore with it foul abominations.  Human sized footprints were found outside the pens at night instead of wolves when livestock were killed or missing.  Many times, the footprints were hard to make out, as the rustler’s feet seemed to be dragging rather than walking.  

It wasn’t long before the first of the walking dead were sighted in Waterhole.  The scared villagers were not willing to take matters into their own hands, and so it became Paddy and Perin’s duty to rid the town of the beasts.

The rotting carcasses of long dead humans somehow brought back.  Father and son hunted them day and night, and Pamela fretted over the health of her son and husband.  Keeping the household running in their absence sometimes meant leaving young Peri alone, or in the hands of the neighbors, which worried Pamela due to the walking dead attacks.  One night when it became obvious that the attacks were becoming regular, Pamela took aside her son and timidly told her of her wishes.  She told him of how much she loved him, how proud of him she was, and what a handsome lad he was becoming (a notion which the village girls didn’t seem to agree with, not that Perin had had the time with all the undead hunting).  The thing that made him the most uncomfortable however, was when she told her son that if something should happen to her and her husband that he should take his sister and hide in the pantry.  Pamela showed Perin a kitchen knife she had hidden…for the express purpose of taking his baby sister’s life so that she could not be taken by the undead.  Shocked at his mother’s fear, Perin vowed to not let it be so.

Father and son redoubled their efforts, searching the countryside to find the place the undead came from, but it was to no avail.  Returning from searching a nearby cave, Paddy and Perin arrived back in Waterhole to find that the farmers had finally been roused to action.  When faced with trouble, halflings have been known to show levels of bravery that larger folk find astonishing, and so it was that the town took up hatchets, pitchforks and other farm implements to stave off the largest attack the town had seen so far.

Brave or no, these halflings were not fighters, and Perin and Paddy knew something had to be done quickly.  Taking a pull from his hip flask of whiskey, Paddy wiped his lips and passed the flask to his son, who had never touched alcohol before.  Perin stowed the flask, still thinking of what his mother would say if she knew he was drinking.  Paddy called for all the farmers to retreat to the town hall, and they did easily enough.  Using the bodies of the already slain, Paddy formed a trail to the largest barn in town, Perin grimacing all the while, never having seen one of his kinsfolk dead.  Stopping every once in a while to take a shot with their bows, the Ashers led the zombies into the barn.

Scrambling to the hayloft, Paddy pushed his son out the window and yelled for him to close the barn doors.  Without realizing what his father intended to do, Perin complied.  The last thing he saw of his father was a wink before he touched a torch to the hay and burned all the zombies to the ground with him, laughing all the while.

In his fright and anger, Perin forgot the words of his Mother’s wishes and took the fight to the few straggling undead.  With bow and hatchet he drove them into the wilderness until he could find no more to cut down.  The undead paid for their intrusion, though how much they understood this can never be known

When he could find no more to hunt and he managed to calm slightly, the creeping mist enveloped him despite the moon being less than half full.  Trying to find his way back to Waterhole, worried to death about his Mother and Sister, Perin walked for what seemed like days.  Just when he thought he recognized some landmark to find his way home, he found himself lost once more.

Perin Asher walked and walked until he thought he saw a clearing in the mist up ahead.  He started hearing drums and faint pipe music.  Emerging from the mist, he found himself in a Vistani camp outside the town of Vallaki in the country of Barovia…

Chaote

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Kitian Figleaf Notteel
« Reply #18 on: March 03, 2006, 04:04:32 AM »
Kit is an Anchorite of the Church of Pure Hearts in Mordentshire.



Kit is a paladin of Ezra.  Indeed she has dreams about the goddess often and feels as though Ezra speaks to her through portents and visions.

Kit's heart is good, and she feels that if everyone would accept Ezra as the Benevolent goddess of all creation, then much ill in the world would be vanquished.

This is her life's work then.  To spread the faith of Ezra like flames consuming the dead wood of despair and sorrow, and thus bring renewal to a dark age.

WildPirate

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Healer Bearlike
« Reply #19 on: May 11, 2006, 04:22:49 PM »


 Greetings fellow gamers.

   The lands of Ravenloft are secretive at best ...
I would ask what I post not to be used IC, please and thank you.

    Name: Healer Bearlike Age:not telling ;)  Height:5'7
    Weight: 165 Hair color:black  Eyes:Hazel Sex:Male
     Profesion: Peace Keeper from the lands of Denyen
     Home World: Denyen "created world, low magic setting*
      high bio diversity
     Birth Place: The Cradle of the Elders Forests
     Family Caste: Artists and Labourers
     Profesional History: Militia in youth, Peace keeper in adulthood
      last of the order "or is he"
     Marital Status: Widowed
     Traits: introverted, thoughtful, reflective, cautious, Idealist, *pre
      ravenloft*
      Race: Moon Elf similar to D&D version slightly heavier and taller
       life span on average 230 pre cleansing 75 post cleansing
      Racial Predjudice: None pre cleansing humans post cleansing
      Magic Affinity: Very High   Phobias: deep water, mental disease,
       soul stealers from the ashen forests on his homeworld,
      Phobias after Ravenloft: Crowds, Amnesia, *stutters now* has since been cured.. through meeting a tree father, although may lapse.
     
         Healer Bearlike was born in the Twilight Stars Woods within
            the Cradle of the Elders Republic Year:8567 PC "Post Cleansing" The year of the Cleansing followed his birth. He joined the milita to defend his homeland in AC 38 *AC after cleansing*

    Healer was born to a Labourer named Wagoneer Bearlike and his elven life mate Katalana Green Leaf a diviner of the stars.
    Healer's mother had the gift of sight and it had been pased through the Green Leaf line since the first coming of the Moon Elves to the lands of Denyen. Healer's grandmother had the sight and the gift of magic.
   The gift of magic in Denyen comes at a heavy price.. insanity at worst and exculsion at best.
   Healer embraced his gifts of magic even though there was a stigmata attached to it. His parents seperated which was uncommon among the moon elves of the twilight forests.
  He joined the local miltia at young age never seeing action as the races all lived in relative peace. He learned to use the bow and blade from his teachers. Healer was arrogant of his natural born talent and was noted by his battle brothers and sisters.
  He left the milita before long and wandered the twilight forests never having a home. He met his life mate in the milita and would soon marry he after only ten years of courtship.
  The order of peacekeeper approached Healer for his membership.
 The order was looked upon as meddlers in the lands affairs but more often then not were needed to keep peace along the borders. The order was the only sanctioned magic using military force in all the lands of Denyen. The rulers of all lands used them in thier own way, and knew the time would pass when even the order of peacekeepers would fade from the lands as magic was slowly ebbing away...
 Until....
 
       
 
   
      [/img]

Rill

  • Undead Slayer
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  • Posts: 170
  • Eg tok min nystemde sitar i hende...
Post your character bio here
« Reply #20 on: June 27, 2006, 01:28:17 AM »
Character: Rill Tinkle


Rill dabbles in this and that. He's very easily influenced,and, although not impatient, very quick to move on to the next fad or whim. Before he came to Ravenloft, he'd (after spending most his years in various escapades and adventures) stumbled upon a small village, won a wager in a bar and gotten himself a farm. The mists took him while he was working on the farm, trying to get rid of a very resilient rock; and he was slumped into Ravenloft. Cold, but eager to move on to his next adventure.

"Wosser skelter? Man's gotn't skin, see?"
He's not an idiot.
"Wossis? S'rock, s'is."
He just finds it easier to take things as they progress.
"You must never lose sight of who and what you are, and what a threat you can be, by
 your very existence. We are making history right now, every day. Always keep the wider
 historical and social picture in mind."-LaVey
~Barrello Keye

Vigalance

  • Guest
Akar Monsain
« Reply #21 on: July 04, 2006, 09:56:50 AM »
Akar Monsain is a Paladin of The Overseer.  He was born in the city of Darkonian of Matira Bay.  He came to Valkari to find out what happened to the Monistary to find out that it was defiled.  He is a noble Paladin that tries to bring hope and divine justice to a land that is unfair.  Let me know if that is okay to play this guy.

Iconoclast

  • The Underworld
  • Dark Power
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  • Posts: 6417
Re: Post your character bio here
« Reply #22 on: October 25, 2006, 01:47:58 PM »
Character:  Marku Vintila
Race: Human
Ethnicity: Barovian
Origins: Kreszk
Faction: Vallaki Guard

Backstory: Marku Vintila, son of Ilias Vintila, hails from a proud Barovian merchant family.  As his father and ancestors before him, Marku has left his family home in Kreszk to offer his sword, skills, and services to the city of Vallaki.  The Vintila are a proud family; a family that has, despite hard times, experienced more than their fare share of economic success (which has ruffled the feathers of some of the local nobility as well as less fortunate peasants.)  It is the Vintila aspiration, that through consistent service and demonstrations of loyalty to the Count and Barovia, that their family will continue to flourish economically as well as bring more honor to the family name.  They also entertain, privately amongst themselves, the hopes that one day their family will be granted the status of nobility. 

Recent Events:  Trade routes have become unreliable and unsafe over the past few years due to an increased level of bandit and rebel activities.  Because of this, the Vintila sons have been raised within a bolstering militaristic structure by their father and uncles.  Marku has been educated not only in the arts of war, but has received a rounded education that involved becoming proficient in the language arts, ethnic dances, and the basic etiquette shared among the noble class (such as which fork to use for salad and which for the main coarse).  Aside from somewhat of an exceptional childhood, Marku is very much an embodiment of Barovian values and conflict in these times.  Ethnic pride, as the conflict between Barovians and Gundarakites mounts, continues to harden social boundaries among ethnic groups.  It has become a deep insult within Barovian society to even suspect that a Barovian is an associate with a Gundarakite.  Some Barovians argue that the Gundarakite should be expunged from Barovia all together, while others make a counter argument that the Gundarakites would only react by becoming more organized, thus becoming an event greater threat.  Marku contemplates with himself as to what can be done to solve these “problems.” Gundarakites could be good for business in some respects, but with the rebels, the relationship has become strained to put it lightly. 

Marku travels to Vallaki determined to do his duty towards restoring and enforcing the Count’s Laws, believing that only with a firm hand, consistent execution of the law, and undying loyalty can Barovia be restored to its previous days of greatness and glory. 

Marku’s arrival to Vallaki was full of surprises.  To begin with, he was overwhelmed by a strong presence of outlanders who were found “loitering” by night at the western outskirts.  His Pack Ox had been tampered with by a rogue while tied up at the Citadel of all places; such audacity is enough to make a man’s hair grey prematurely.  And he is placed under the command of a man who is not of Barovian decent.  It becomes increasingly clear to him, that it should be every Barovian man’s destiny to stand tall in times as dire as these. 

Isu

  • Undead Master
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  • Posts: 280
Re: Post your character bio here
« Reply #23 on: October 26, 2006, 07:35:21 AM »
Character:  Isu Sethotep
Race: Yuan Ti
Class: Priest
Ethnicity: Akiri
Origins: Muhar
Sex: female

Background:
A detailed story can be found here: http://www.nwnravenloft.com/forum/index.php?topic=4486.0
« Last Edit: January 26, 2007, 04:43:10 PM by Isu »

Isu Sethotep - Word of Set
Eric Leroux - phantom of the sewers
Taran - the good old student
Jeanne Marienne - faith in honor

Hieronim

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Re: Post your character bio here
« Reply #24 on: December 10, 2006, 09:29:12 PM »
Character name: Bialy
Subrace: Drow Elf
Alignment: Chaotic Evil

Character Background: Bialy, like his brother Tomasz, grew up within the Underdark beneath Shadowdale. Most of his life was spent as a personal slave/drown to Mistress Devona, a powerful wizard with a gift of transportation spells. Bialy was treated with the same respect all male Drow were and was given just enough knowledge in the arcane arts to be of use to his mistress. One day a band of adventures, comprised mostly of high elves, raid the Underdark killing Devona brutally. Bialy was separated from his brother in the battle and with a bit of luck was one of the few surviving members of his family. When Tomasz’s body was not found the family appointed Bialy to go fetch his brother in Shadowdale.