Character Intro Thread

Discussion in 'Tyrant's Grasp' started by theLumberJack, Jan 18, 2020.

  1. theLumberJack

    theLumberJack Achievement Hunter Member from long ago...

    Once you have your character made, please post an introduction of them here.

    Please explain why you are in Roslar's Coffer (whether you are from here, passing through, trading, etc)
     
  2. Statboy

    Statboy Resident Cueball

    Character Intro: May Underlake; CG Halfling Psychic
    [​IMG]
    Hi I May, and i'm happy to meet you, and it's nice to find people happy to meet me as well. After that business with my pet cat Samson nobody in my hometown will speak to me. Never mind that I was only 7, and had no idea how to control magic. I don't even know how it happened, Samson was upset because I wanted to hold him and, well you know how cats are, he didn't mean to scratch me, but when he did it startled me. Then Samson just started bleeding from his eye's, his ears, his nose, everywhere. The veterinarian said Samson's brain had melted in his skull, and that's how I found out I have a magical aptitude, and why nobody in my hometown will talk to me.

    That was 30 years ago and I have a decent measure of control now, I don't make people's brain's bleed, at least not on accident, but I needed a fresh start, a new town. So when I heard Roslar's Coffer was rebuilt I had to come. It's only on the other side of the Fangwood, so its not too far from home, but far enough to leave the stigma of my hometown. Hopefully I'll find a new pet cat too.

    OUT OF CHARACTER: May is very small, even for a halfling. Her 5 str isn't going to be much help, her combat is based around throwing rocks and acid flask's with her mind at the enemy. I am building towards an animal companion (Animal Ally feat at lvl 4, holding my lvl 3 feat to get it), going for a small cat. The Players Guide says Mountain Lion's and Lynx's are prevalent in the Fangwood so that is my plan. I understand we may not have access to animal companions by then and that it will be whenever the story says its allowed. I can also spend my phrenic pool to make undead susceptible to my mind affecting spells.
     
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  3. Splyons1993

    Splyons1993 Well-Known Member

    Here is my excessively long entry;

    Aelynthi had thought her fortunes had turned around when she enlisted in the Order of the Shining Rose, a self-proclaimed order of Paladins devoted to the god Erastil based several miles outside the city of Elidir, in central Isger. Though she had never been more than passingly religious- enough to keep the local zealots off her back- the thought of regular meals and a free roof over her head was more than enough to turn her into a fair-weather friar after several months of near-starvation following the Goblinblood Wars. Though Erastil never responded to her lackluster devotions, her passing skill with the blade and her eager- if hotheaded- manner was enough to keep her within the order, earning her a place as an Initiate Paladin within 6 months. The Order itself was a bit of a lark- made up more of idealists and young eccentrics than seasoned veterans- and few within the city took them very seriously, save for the Diabloists of Cheliax, who sought to increase their influence, and who were more than a little hostile to the naïve Paladin order, though it seldom came to open conflict between the two parties. Some time into her second year as an Initiate- the preceding two years having been filled predominately with weapons training and the occasional dull sermon- the Order was called into the city of Elidir itself to help drive off the attentions of a particularly nasty cult who were suspected of abducting several citizens in the preceding weeks, none of whom had been seen again. Aelynthi found herself thrown into the rearguard of the strike team, outfitted in a suit of four-mirror armor and given a finely crafted falchion, the elder paladins intending her to gain a little experience in actual combat with little supposed risk.

    Unfortunately, the assault went about as poorly as was humanly possible. Within the first three minutes of the engagement nearly every member of the Order was slain, the strike team finding itself outnumbered 3 to 1 in the small confines of the city basement they were directed to by the governor. It was not until several days later that Aelynthi learned that the governor had led her Order to slaughter deliberately, having caved to the demands of the growing Diabolist contingent within his city, who demanded their deaths as payment for promised wealth and power. As she watched her friends and mentors die by the score against hellish outsiders summoned by the Diabolic cult, Aelynthi prayed- not for grace or healing, nor for peace and honor, but for vengeance. Erastil- as so many times before- did not answer. But another did.

    For the first time in her life, Aelynthi felt the strength of a god's blessing flow through her- not the peaceful, serene grace of Erastil's anemic creed, but the righteous, wrathful fervor of Ragathiel, General of Vengeance. With Ragathiel's burning blessing, Aelynthi fought her way free of the ambush, slaying several of the cult's demonic allies in a berserk fury. This rage dimmed only slightly in the coming days- fading to the background only when the perfidious governor lay dead at her feet, his promised rewards ungiven. Escaping the city just ahead of the headsman's axe, she fled to the nearby Kalistocracy of Druma, remaining there a few days before taking a ferry across the lake to the town of Vellumis in Lastwall. Feeling safe for the moment, she took a room at one of the local Inns and began to consider her options- Isger itself was not a powerful nation but she doubted her execution of the governor would be looked upon kindly by it's Chelaxian lords, and those were not the sort that one offended if they expected to go on living. The life of a wandering outlaw did not exactly appeal to her, but then neither did dying ingloriously at the hands of midnight assassins. With a steadily depleting purse, Aelynthi considered her frustratingly limited choices.

    A few days into her deliberations, a newcomer came to the Inn, taking a room next to her own. This was not uncommon, however that evening as she sat at a nearby table in the common room, she noted a tattoo upon the newcomers hand- a demons grinning face with burning eyes. Several days of surreptitious shadowing along night-darkened alleys found Aelynthi in a now all-too familiar situation; a pack of Diabolist cultists in front of her with knives in hand, her falchion in her fist and Ragathiel's wrath welling up inside her. She had not been as sneaky as she had thought, and despite her precautions she had walked into yet another ambush. The Grandmaster would have been less than impressed, had she been alive to see Aelynthi now.

    A minute or two saw several cultists on the ground in various states of mutilation, with Aelynthi herself sporting a dozen or so wounds that- though none were fatal- were certainly beginning to slow her down. With more than half a dozen cultists still standing, she considered that maybe she should have picked one of her terrible options sooner rather than later. As she wearily readied herself for what would almost certainly be the last clash- having glumly admitted to herself that it would likely see her joining the bodies underfoot- she was as astonished as the Diabolists to see the foremost cultist suddenly sprout an arrow in the throat and fall backwards, arms flailing, as a hail of shafts flitted down from the rooftops above to pierce chests, throats and limbs. Shrieking in fear, the last remaining cultist began to flee back down the alley, making it only a few strides before Aelynthi's falchion pierced him through the spine. As she turned clumsily from the corpse, sinking slowly to her knees beside it, a large shape dropped down from the nearby rooftop. Stepping forward from the shadows with hand extended, a gruff voice introducing itself as Jando Parr. With a drowsy grin, Aelynthi tried to put forth her hand to shake his- only blearily noting that the hand itself was greenish in tinge- before collapsing face-first into the dirt of the alley, unconscious.

    It turned out that Jando Parr was a Ranger- a half-orc Ranger, to be precise- who acted as a sort of vigilante in Lastwall, hunting down members of a cult known as "The Whispering Way." Truth be told he had thought that the Diabolists of the night before had been members of that cult, else he may not have gotten involved, but having seen her skill with a blade he was glad he had- she may be useful. As she healed from her wounds over the next week, Jando brought her up to speed what he knew of The Whispering Way and its goals, as well as rumors he had heard regarding some potential cult activities in a village by the name of Roslar's Coffer. Before long Aelynthi found herself agreeing to travel ahead of him to the village and to meet up with him there, deciding that life as a vigilante would suit her far more than life as a refugee. Once her wounds were more or less healed she began making her way to the village, bidding farewell to Jando and mentally preparing herself for the coming storm. From what Jando had told her of the Whispering Way, she was certain that her god's righteous wrath would be more than well-deserved when it was brought down on the cult's heads

    Build: intending to build as a 2H heavy hitter, with the Oath of Vengeance archetype giving me the option to sack some lay on hands per day for extra smites and netting me the ability to grant allies the effects of my smite starting at lvl 12. Was considering switching to a lancer build to complement our new samurai friend but its probably enough to have one mounted party member.
     
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  4. TR_Datsun

    TR_Datsun Active Member

    Introduction for my character:

    A man of honor and duty, Xude Inlo took up his post in Absalom, on the isle of Kortos 10 years ago. Xude, a fledgling samurai in the Order of the Shroud, has kept to himself for the most part. His purpose in the city, simple, to rid it of undead and those who terrorize the living with them.

    As a samurai, he has used his diplomatic abilities to sway favor within courts, taverns, and townships alike. Xude’s art of speechcraft is influenced mightily by his physique and demeanor. Being of Vishkanya origin, people are either deterred or enraptured by his humanoid, yet, scale-covered body and pupil-less, green-yellow eyes. However, when diplomatic options and charm are out of the question, he will not hesitate to draw his sword to defend himself or the people he deems his charge.

    Now, a decade later, with his life in Absalom for the time being finished. Xude, receives a missive from his Order directing him toward the capital of Lastwall, Vigil. This missive instructs him to inquire about horrific and occult events ravaging the country.

    He finds himself in an inn within the town of Roslar’s Coffer, on the border of Lastwall, while in transit to Vigil.
     
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  5. theLumberJack

    theLumberJack Achievement Hunter Member from long ago...

    How long have you lived in Roslar's Coffee? Do you have a new pet?
     
  6. Statboy

    Statboy Resident Cueball

    Lived in long enough that i felt the need to put a point in knowledge local, so 8 months'ish if that works story wise. I havnt found a pet yet as I wont get an animal companion until lvl 4. So running into a lynx or mountain lion I could tame would be nice.
     
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  7. VintagePC

    VintagePC GodModePC (One-man Show) VF4-S (Server Operator) Forum Operator Minecraft Operator Global Moderator Staff Member DMC Tester Jailbreak Admin TF2L developer

    Okun Thaadson has always been a hothead. His short temper and shortsightedness generally make him disliked, if not outright despised, in short order. If he sees something he wants, he takes it, and woe is anyone who gets in his way. Being of short stature and with magical abilities means he can often escape without too much trouble. Despite all his pilfering, he doesn't have much to his name, preferring instead to spend his nights in whorehouses and gambling.

    As you can imagine, this sort of behaviour means he quickly becomes a persona non-grata as far as the city watch is concerned; he doesn't stay in one place for long anymore now that they are wising up to his tactics and patterns, and his last hasty escape brought him to Roslar's coffer, where his face is not yet well known.

    However, he is growing weary of this lifestyle; or at least the constant need to be ready to run at a moment's notice... Perhaps it's time to rethink things, or at least find a place with some folks that are at least tolerable to him (i.e. also not as vertically inclined as most races). Or, perhaps just a party to join for easy pickings to aid in filling his slush fund.
     
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