The beginings of an RPG
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Law Bringer
Member # 2984
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written Friday, January 21 2005 14:37
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As promised earlier. Roleplaying Character Description People become Adventurers because they seek for something. Some desire fame, some power, and others wealth. Many wish to prove their strength, and some want to find their destiny. Few, however, are motivated primarily by their thirst for knowledge... Name: Daryl Mycroft Birth year: 801 IE Race: Human Profession: Mage/Soldier Mycroft has only recently finished his apprenticeship at the Tower of Magi. He is currently enlisted in the army of Avernum and fighting in the Empire War. Age: Twenty-two (823 IE, in the midst of the Empire War) Place of Birth: Formello, Northeast Avernum. Appearance: A man, of mediocre height, stands with his back turned. He cannot be taller than five feet. The grey cloak he wears is of a rough cloth, and looks both uncouth and worn. Beneath this cloak, his garment is that of an adventurer: A light armor made from boiled leather, and beneath it a tunic that has seen better days. All in all, he looks closer to the observer's idea of a vagrant than a mage, let alone a scholar. His tanned, leathery skin betrays his long and arduous travels even more than his cloak does. He carries a light, but gnarled, twisted staff that an Avernite will recognize as carved cavewood. This staff is unadorned and has nothing set in its tip, but there is a small inconspicious warding sigil etched somewhere far down its base. A mage trained in the lore of runes would recognize it as a minor charm, simple but very effective, rendering the staff almost unbreakable. The staff shows signs of wear like the mage himself, and must have been used as a bashing weapon at more than one point in its life. Getting tired of being stared at from behind, the man finally turns aroud. His young face comes as a surprise to anyone who would have judged him older. He is in fact in his early twenties, even though in all but his face he looks over thirty, and his garb makes him look still older. Mycroft's face is dominated by his bushy eyebrows and the beard he has recently stopped shaving. He has a high forehead even at his age, but he has always had that. A rugged, but not unpleasant face to look at, over all, and his weatherbeaten skin only adds to the effect. His dark brown eyes contain the wisdom brought by years spent studying the arcane lore. But they are not dulled, nor calm: A fire appears to glow deep in them; the never-ending hunger for more knowledge and more experience. The burning desire to learn. Mycroft's features shift into a light, knowledgeable smile in greeting, but they cannot hide a certain curiosity as to who this unknown observer might be, and what may be learned from him. Personality, Strengths and Weaknesses: Strength: Openmindedness & AdaptabilityWhenever a situation comes up where an encounter with a new, unfamiliar sight might prove disturbing, Mycroft's curiosity may cover up any initial unease.Strength: Ranger's AbilitiesEven after studying the magical arts in the Tower of Magi, Mycroft has retained the cave lore taught him during his apprenticeship to a sage in Almaria. With this comes experience in Cavelore, Navigation skills, and many other abilities necessary for surviving in the harsh environment of the Underground.Strength: Magery Mycroft graduated from the Tower of Magi with honors shortly before his twenty-first birthday, in 822 IE. While he can – being skilled in the ways of a ranger – defend himself in close combat against weak opponents, his preferred way of fighting is magic. He knows most of the standard combat spells, as well as many spells used for magical analysis that aren't commonly taught to apprentices.Weakness: Suicidal Curiosity "Oh look! Now that is a strange-looking insect indeed – it appears to be at least two meters tall when standing on its hind legs, is plated in green-brown armor and possesses pincers that seem to be its main weapons. It also appears to inherently radiate a forcefield… my analysing spells reveal it to be a simple, but very strong anti-magic field. Finally, it can run amazingly fast. I just have to note this down; I've never heard of this creature before… hey, why are you all running awa--- Aargh!" Enough said.Weakness: Physical Frailty Daryl has an almost iron constitution, but when it comes to actual force, he is better off in the back of a battle, frying or riddling his opponents with arrows from afar rather than wielding a sword.Weakness: Over-confidence This comes as a real surprise. We have here a man striving constantly to learn more, to increase his experience. No one would possibly accuse him of thinking himself all-knowing; that would interfere with his continued quest for wisdom. Yet this same character will be over-confident when it comes to trusting his own experience and senses. He is reluctant to accept being instructed, especially on a topic he believes to know well. He may occasionally reject being corrected, even in matters that the other one is quite intimate with, and grow obstinate and stubborn. Even though such lapses never last long, they can cause problems in situations where quick action is required.Weakness: Lack of social/practical skills While, as described above, Mycroft is ready to interact with and adapt to other races and cultures with little or no inhibition, his actual social instruction is lacking. To simplify: In his life, an adventurer deals with two sorts of beings. Those he has to fight, and those who pay him for it. The latter are often humans with vast resources; merchants, rulers and the nobility - a social class that expects certain standards of behavior. When these people are concerned, Mycroft should stay in the back and let others negotiate, because he might botch things up, or worse, get saddled with a bad deal due to his weak haggling skills. Magical knowledge and cave lore simply is not all.. Possessions: A worn cavewood staff, light leather armor (cave lizard skin), a rough grey cloak (an heirloom from the surface), a tattered tunic (woven from cavewood cotton, an uncouth but durable material), a steel shortsword (also an heirloom), a tiny obsidian dagger used for etching runes (Tower of Magi standard issue), a pair of lizardskin boots, a cavewood bow, but no arrows. [Note: This adds to the other CD a few items not relevant to the games; thus, a staff, tunic, tiny dagger etc.] History: Daryl Mycroft was born in 801 IE to his parents Radel and Dora Mycroft, in the city of Formello, Northeast Avernum. He is one of a small generation of children born and raised in the caverns (there are only a few of these who were born before the Reconciliation; most inhabitants of Avernum are still immigrants, though the native descendant population is now on the rise). Radel and Dora had been exiled from the surface for vagrancy and unlicensed sorcery, respectively. They first met in Avernum. Daryl lived in Formello till the age of seven, when his parents moved to the city of Almaria on a trek. The roads were dangerous then, for it was the high time of the war against the Nephilim, who had recently united under the rulership of the human mage Anastasia and forged a temporary truce with the Slithzerikai, who had already ravaged the lands south of Formello some time back. The trip was not without risks, and the trek was guarded by experienced mercenaries and soldiers of the Crown. When the trek was ambushed by Sliths as it reached the shores of the southern lake to set sail for Almaria, it was young Daryl's first sight of a battle. His father Radel died in this battle, and his grief-shaken mother Dora was left to raise him alone once they reached the city of Almaria. At the age of ten, he was to be apprenticed to one of the craftsmen in the city ( who had a shortage of apprentices anyway due to the lack of younger Avernites, which gave him a lot of options). A solid choice might have been one of the Almarian vintners or wine-traders, but he did not want that. The other choices were either a former bladesman of the Empire army or the local scribe. Since the death of his father, Daryl had been wary and distasteful of anything related to warfare, and so he became an apprentice to the scribe. Since the sage was also an alchemist and the potionmaker of Almaria, Daryl spent a lot of his apprenticeship learning the properties and uses of herbs, making potions, and of course gathering ingredients for his master. This was a tricky task, and the alchemist himself had learned a lot of the cave and nature lore that enabled him to journey through dangerous lands unharmed. He passed this on to Daryl. His apprenticeship was brought to a stop when the old scribe had never returned from a journey to procure some graymold from the northern caves. In spite of the best tricks that his cave lore gave him, he had been discovered by a raiding band of Slithzerikai. His body was never found. Daryl, now old enough to journey alone, had joined the next caravan to the Tower of Magi in the Southeast and, by a fortunate chance, managed to secure himself an apprenticeship in the then most prestiguous (and only) center for magical learning in all of Avernum. However, he did not much like the tower's risky environment in layers of intrigue and political struggles. No sooner had his apprenticeship been finished and he himself been certified a licensed mage, than he left the tower to go north. When he was twenty (in 821 IE, four years after the assassination of Emperor Hawthorne III) he arrived in the town of Formello, which he had last seen thirteen years ago. He stayed there for a while, making a little money from protecting traveling merchants and selling potions. A year later, however, the Empire War began as the Empire retaliated against the murder of its ruler. As the war grew increasingly desperate for the Avernites, Daryl in a mix of patriotism and unemployment desperation joined the army of Avernum (though he was still an ardent pacifist, he was concerned about what the Empire would do to what he saw as his homeland - being born there - and figuring he could either die in battle or be slaughtered after it, he chose the former). Just as the barriers sprang up, he was sent up with a rag-tag band of other enlisted adventurers to Fort Ganrick. It is now 823 IE. [ Friday, January 21, 2005 14:38: Message edited by: Of Valinor and Eldamar ] -------------------- The Encyclopaedia Ermariana <-- Now a Wiki! "Polaris leers down from the black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey some strange message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a message to convey." --- HP Lovecraft. "I single Aran out due to his nasty temperament, and his superior intellect." --- SupaNik Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
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Apprentice
Member # 5408
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written Friday, January 21 2005 22:06
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quote:Crikey! Posts: 2 | Registered: Monday, January 17 2005 08:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 2984
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written Saturday, January 22 2005 01:07
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Yes, I loved writing that bit. :D -------------------- The Encyclopaedia Ermariana <-- Now a Wiki! "Polaris leers down from the black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey some strange message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a message to convey." --- HP Lovecraft. "I single Aran out due to his nasty temperament, and his superior intellect." --- SupaNik Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
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Infiltrator
Member # 4256
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written Saturday, January 22 2005 07:30
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Put the first part up. Character Description Bustle, hurried people running, shouts, comotion is the order of the day. All over Exile a war is being fought and everyone is keeping busy. But in one spot peace and calm prevail. Unperturbed by the racket one man slumbers on. NAME: Milton RACE: Human DATE OF BIRTH: 803 Imperial Era PROFESSION: Just graduated from Camp David. Promoted to Aide-de-Camp for one of the generals. PLACE OF BIRTH: Unknown APPEARANCE: Calmness, Confidence radiates out from one place. People turn to look, stare, whisper to each other. "What is he doing" they ask. The object of their attention is a man. Dressed in an upgraded version of the standard Exile Army armor this man stands in the middle of the busiest forges in Exile. A brooch that holds his cloak shows him to be the helper of one of the most prominent generals that Exile has. But this man just stands with his head down, and eyes shut. The apprentices of the forge weave their way around him casting irate glances, but not daring to complain of the sleeper that is in their way. A big man who takes up a lot of space, his body shows the signs of much toil over his short life. His downturned face has several curious scars on it, and the telltale raised scars that start on the lower part of his neck and dissapear beneath his armor tell of at least one severe whipping in his past. Boutell, the smith, walks over and loudly clears his throat. Since this has no effect he shakes Milton. The soldier immediately wakes and grins at the smith. Geniality shows all over his face, but any who were discussing him quickly turn away, hoping that he did not notice their stares. Personality, Strengths, and Weaknesses: STRENGTH: STRENGTH - Years of hard manual toil have not weakened Milton but given him might that is unproportional to even his large frame. STRENGTH: Knowledge of several small spells allows him to combat his tendency to move slowly WEAKNESS: An aversion to mages and spell casting makes him overly dependent on potions. It also makes him a very reluctant spell caster. STRENGTH: Genial Giant: Very sociable, converses easily with most people. Due to his position he knows many of the leaders of Exile's army. WEAKNESS: Sleepy: Somehow he never gets enough sleep. This makes him somewhat slow in combat and has earned him bruised ribs many a time for oversleeping. WEAKNESS: Weird things freak him out. More likely to fight then to attempt and make contact. Often connects random creatures to his hatred of mages. WEAKNESS: Color Bind: "So you said to pick all the red herbs?" POSSESSIONS: Light Bronze Chain Mail - Good quality though it is bronze. Steel Halbard - Unwilling to get this magically enhanced. Arrrow - Some stupid goblin shot Milton with a pointless arrow. Kept as a good luck charm. Standard Exile Uniform- Durable, built for wear, rather stupid looking. Standard Exile Boots- The Latest technology allows the equipment of Exile troops with boots, no longer do they have to troop around in homemade contraptions. VERY BRIEF HISTORY SKETCH/Intro Milton grew up in the household of a mage on the surface. An influential mage. This mage managed to make an exception in Miltons case to the closing of Exile. Milton was exiled at the age of 13. Didn't get sent to Fort Exile but to western Exile. Was found by an old master swordsman who taught him the basics of weaponry. Went to Camp David. Excelled. Became an aide of a general. Was sent to see the condition of the Boutell's forges. Got stuck when barriers went up. Joined a random band of adventurers just to keep from dying of boredom. [ Friday, January 28, 2005 04:42: Message edited by: Macrsp ] Posts: 564 | Registered: Wednesday, April 14 2004 07:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 2984
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written Sunday, January 23 2005 16:15
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Looks very good... Are we going to see the rest soon? :) -------------------- The Encyclopaedia Ermariana <-- Now a Wiki! "Polaris leers down from the black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey some strange message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a message to convey." --- HP Lovecraft. "I single Aran out due to his nasty temperament, and his superior intellect." --- SupaNik Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 258
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written Monday, January 24 2005 09:28
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NAME; Lashmier RACE: Nemphilim SEX: Male HEIGHT/WEIGHT: 6’ 200lbs BUILD: Massive HAND: Ambidextrous DATE OF BIRTH: 805 IE PRODESSION: Brigand/Mercenary PALCE OF BIRTH: Nemphilim fort near Fort Genrick DESCRIPTION: Lashmier is a huge cat with black fur and white patches on his face, hands, feet, and across his chest. His right arm bears magical tattoos that affect his hair as well as his skin dyeing them both a silvery white. The tattoos are vastly powerful spells and glyphs that counteract a certain enchantment from a gauntlet which Lashmier acquired from a traveling mage. The man tragically died before being able to tell Lashmier that the item had not been identified as safe or not and was being sent to the lair of Motrax for further investigation. Apparently the gauntlet was far from safe and began immediately to change Lashmiers body into an ethereal substance. Through some miracle of luck Lashmier was able to find a suitably able mage to fix the ravages of the item. The gauntlet, however, could not be removed. The effects of the magic on his hand was permanent so Lashmier is cursed to bear the item forever. A wonderous thing it is to bear nonetheless. Made of silver and set with stoned black as jet and crimson as blood. Intricate patterns and glyphs are carved into the metal and the gems seem to swirl with their own inner life. The dexterity of the gauntlet is amazing, giving it’s user nearly perfect precision with tools no matter how small or fine the detail. Two inch claws extend of the fingers of the gauntlet making it a capable weapon as well. The gauntlet seems to also be able to magnify the simplest spells changing the blaze of a flame to the ferocity of a fireball. All in all it’s a very adaptable item ( :D ) The only armor he wears is a chainmale scarf which acts as a coif. The chain is raged and hangs behind his in strips, some reaching to his waist with most not passing his middle back. His chest is bare and his left arm is covered to the shoulder with a thick layer of spiked armor. Articulated to perfection, the glove was created by master craftsmen available to only those with the money you get from a life of thievery or politics. Across his back are strapped two cutlass’s aproximatley a foot and a half in lenth each. The hilts are angled downward and outwards for easy access and the tips potrude over his shoulders a few inches. The blades are each blackened steel with almost a blue shine when the light hits the razor edge. His pants are those of a traveling swordsman. Wayleighed within sigh of his destination the man was easily enough killed and stripped. Although his sword cleanly took the head of one of Lashmiers companions. The pants are large and seem to be comprised of hundreds of stripps of leather laced together and interspersed with bits of chainmale to reinforce them. Numerous pockets can be found throughout the pants. The sword is quite a wicked weapon. Four feet long and slightly curved, the metal seems to have been…folded. But of course that’s not possible. The blade bears perfect balance and amazing speed, seeming to pass from one point in the air to another without having to pass through the space in-between.(hehe:) The sheath is of black leather and strapped about Lasmier’s waist with another length of chain. He wears no shoes save for a loupe of cloth to protect the soles of his feet from any damage. If necessary he dons a pair of curious wooden sandals also found on the young swordsman. About his neck and from his ears bangles numerous silver bells. Interwoven in the chain and one from each ear, the bells create a musical cadence with any movement. His appearance is pleasant, with sharp handsome features in his face. His voice is loud yet not to the point of being annoying. Across his shoulder he caries a worn bow of Lemon wood. A quiver at his hip holds barbed arrows with razor points. PERSONALITY: Lashmier is a pleasant person to be around. Easy going and ambitious. With few faults besides a touch of egotisticality. He seems to be a born leader, actively taking charge of situations and easily handling dilemmas. His quick wits and silver tongue lend his easily to the role of diplomat for the group and his size and dexterity make his obvious for bartering with merchants of a less reputable nature. When faced with a situation that has gone from bad to worse Lashmier is quick to take control and prefers affirmative action to any one of his men being hurt. He has been the leader of a brand of brigands from since the age of 16. Approaching his 18’th birthday he has become accustomed to people and their problems and learning to deal with them. ABILITIES: HEALTH: low SP: low MAIN STATISTICS: STRENGTH: average DEXTERITY: beyond average INTELLEGENCE: excellent WARRIOR SKILLS: EDGE WEAPON: grand master BASHING: inept POLEARM: average THROWN: inept ARCHERY: master DEFENCE: novice MAGE: Various spells PRIEST: Various spells MAGE LORE: adept ALCHEMY: inept ITEM LORE: inept OTHER SKILLS: DISARMING TRAPS: perfect LOCKPICKING: perfect ASSASSINATION: average to master(depending on weapon) POISION: master LUCK: perfect I have the oddest feeling that I've forgoten something but we shall see...the background will follow shortly. It's unlikely that anyone didn't notice but that was a ketana that he has and a pair of those japanese pants...the nifty kind...so enjoy:P Get back to me with any discrepencies... -------------------- ...well I thought it was funney...? didn't you? Posts: 296 | Registered: Wednesday, November 7 2001 08:00 |
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Infiltrator
Member # 4256
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written Monday, January 24 2005 10:28
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I'm feeling rather underpowered now ;) [ Monday, January 24, 2005 10:28: Message edited by: Macrsp ] Posts: 564 | Registered: Wednesday, April 14 2004 07:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 2984
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written Monday, January 24 2005 10:48
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So do I. And I mean to change that. In a party, the weakest char tends to be meat. Right now, we are the weakest chars. -------------------- The Encyclopaedia Ermariana <-- Now a Wiki! "Polaris leers down from the black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey some strange message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a message to convey." --- HP Lovecraft. "I single Aran out due to his nasty temperament, and his superior intellect." --- SupaNik Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 258
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written Tuesday, January 25 2005 07:49
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Yes, when I said no godding I ment in the relm of the imagination be sure not to make your character glow intresting colors and fly. But do be sure to make it so that they can last through the adventure. I've made some parties that absolutly could never make it unless they were modified. So take care not to be too extravegant, but do enjoy yourseves:) -------------------- ...well I thought it was funney...? didn't you? Posts: 296 | Registered: Wednesday, November 7 2001 08:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 258
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written Thursday, January 27 2005 10:56
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Do you who are playing want to post character updates or do you want to start playing as is? It's up to you but please get with me as soon as possible, thank you. -------------------- ...well I thought it was funney...? didn't you? Posts: 296 | Registered: Wednesday, November 7 2001 08:00 |
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Infiltrator
Member # 4256
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written Friday, January 28 2005 04:34
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Sorry bout the delay... Posts: 564 | Registered: Wednesday, April 14 2004 07:00 |
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