bloonofsteel
Master Adventurer
I have made 670 posts
Right now I'm Offline
I joined June 2016
My gender is Male
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Post by bloonofsteel on Jul 26, 2016 20:18:13 GMT 6
Name: Helion Serket Race: Troll (Cerulean blood. Though physically stronger and having sharper reflexes than most humans, he is more vulnerable to psychic and magical attacks. Has an innate psychic ability, however, it has not been developed.) Class: Rogue(Not to be confused with a class in Homestuck. Relies on quick strikes, stealth, silent kills and ambushes. Has a bonus to night vision and is less likely to be noticed, however, isn't particularly strong in face-to-face combat) Stat Distribution: STR 11 DEX 15 CON 11 INT 10 WIS 10 CHA 9 Added. You are Helion Serket, a gray-skinned being of unknown origin. Or rather, unknown biology and birthplace - your guardians claimed that they found you as a grub with an odd face after a meteor had landed by their carriage. Somehow recognizing you as sapient, they took the meteor with you in it and raised you as their own, along with your adoptive older brother. Because of the circumstances of your adoption, your parents believed it to be a blessing from the Star Goddess, a Goddess they prayed to and worshiped for most of their lives, and are one of the few who haven't switched to the more "conventional" Gods of Wealth or Harvest. You're not sure what to make of it, but you've been treated like an outcast by almost everyone who isn't your family, who themselves are treated as "weird" for worshiping the Star Goddess. So at 23 years old, you scraped up enough money to afford yourself 3 One Day Rations, and are gifted a shitty kitchen knife; enough to make it to Haven on foot. It'll take a few days, but you have to try. Character Name: Gilliard Greyman Race: Human Class: Bard- Nature. Uses ancient spells (Mostly Songs/Poems and Runes) as he travels throughout the world, helping to preserve the Natural World. Has a deep connection with the land around him. Strength: 12 Dexterity: 6 (this roll was absolute trash) Constitution: 15 Intelligence: 18 Wisdom: 15 Charisma: 12 (Crikey, I rolled really well it seems.) Added. You are Gilliard Greyman, and you are a human bard and musician. Well, you managed to bullshit people into thinking you play your shitty lyre better than the average person can, but a musician nonetheless. Okay, to say you are a musician is a disgrace to your profession. You delve into various literatures about the wonders of the Natural World, often writing poems and songs and whatever comes to your mind about the land around you. Your incredibly shitty dexterity doesn't make writing or playing your instrument of choice easy, but by the GODS you can sing and read and write your songs and poems in ALL the languages. Okay, that was your above-average bullshitting abilities put to use; you know Common, Elven, and Dwarven, a feat that no other man has in your town. You can sing rather well, too. Of course, you have heard of the Town of Haven as a spot where many other races can gather in taverns built to house them all. Of course, you would have a wider audience there, so why not set out for it? Your incredible luck with your job allows you to get the rations required to set out for Haven, which will take a few days by foot. You're also going to bring your admittedly shitty lyre, along with some paper to inscribe whatever comes to mind. Of course, when you would like to set out is a different matter entirely. Name: Gold Auros (You really shouldn't be surprised.) Race: Eladrin Class: Swordmage Stats STR 11 CON 12 DEX 11 INT 16 WIS 11 CHA 9 Race Bonuses? +2 INT +2 CHA Added. You are Gold Auros, an Eladrin Swordmage, though you wanted to be called a "Spellfencer" in your youth. As an Eladrin, you are naturally slim, and you had lived rather well off, able to train in the art of spellfencing both swords and magic in relative peace. However, you had always longed for more. You had always wanted to see the outside world, and had heard of a Town called Haven. With some rations preserved by the forest magic, as well as a shitty sword you managed to get for yourself, you are ready to set off for the town. On foot, of course. And of course, you're just ready. You're not actually going yet. OK I'm thinking of joining but RNG scares me. Hundreds of rolls and a technicality later..... Race: Warforged Name: Model X-3N0, but known as Mitch (the name could be a nickname for either Mitchell or Michelle, I'll leave the reveal to you Steel). Class: Artificer/Enchanter (makes and uses magic stuff, imparts mana into stuff to control it and stuff) Stats: Strength: 18 (being a warforged, and with new and refined alloy limbs (as in metals mixed together, not the race of adaptive beings), Mitch is incredibly powerful, and can even move around cannons and mortars) Dexterity: 16 (mana emitters were installed on Mitch's prehensile components, and as a result, Mitch's parts were made to conduct mana really well. In addition, Mitch has sleek limbs that offer little internal resistance to movements. This also means Mitch can move around fast, and reaction between sensing an object and reacting is sped up greatly) Constitution: 10 (+2 race bonus) (as a side effect of looking more human, Mitch does not have a thick exoskeleton or extensive armor, and is as a result not much more durable. However, Mitch is still immune to diseases, hunger and starvation, dehydration, fatigue, asphyxiation, and other things that would be problematic for a normal human) Intelligence: 14 (Mitch was built to be able to use mana effectively, to assemble and engineer, to learn, to adapt, and to be able to effectively explore the world.) Wisdom: 16 (In an age of xenophobia, Mitch was built to think before making judgments of others. Being persecuted only made Mitch's resolve to be better and not judge stronger. Mitch's creator made the magic component of Mitch incredibly complex and therefore really hard to alter or tap into. In addition, Mitch is highly loyal as a Warforged and fiercely loyal in combat. Mitch's mission and protocols are enhanced further through addition of human traits such as "determination" and "willpower".) Charisma: 14 (Mitch was built with a nice, natural sounding voice, and is fully able to experience human emotions. Also is programmed to be friendly and nice, and can even make friends.) Starting weapon: Mana emitters: Things on Mitch's palms and feet that emit mana. While pretty useful when it comes to enchanting things and making magic stuff, generally useless as a combat tool on their own.) Added, You are a Warforged, and a strong one at that. The populace of the village you were created in fears you due to your power, but your creators take great care of you. Despite your astounding advantages over the others, there's always that nagging feeling in the back of your head that you're not all that special... Though your creators didn't give you more than basic sapience, you have been compelled to do good since your creation. In fact, you want to do good to as many people as possible, and you have heard of a Town called Haven. You do not need food, water or even air, and only require four hours of rest as a Warforged. With all that in mind, plus your shitty mana emitters, you get ready to set off for Haven. Name: RaPiD Race: Variant Human Class: Warlock Stats: STR 13 DEX 13 CON 8 INT 12 WIS 10 CHA 16 Race bonus: +2 CHA +1 DEX +1 CON Pact: Pact of the tomb Added. You are RaPiD, your full name something you are not keen on sharing (psst, it's Rayth "Phoenix" Drandon). You are a Variant Human Warlock, and you had mingled with some dark forces via your soul whenever you needed some direction for where you wanted to go. Recently, though, the information your soul had retrieved seemed to be urging you to head to the Town of Haven, for reasons you aren't quite sure of. Regardless, you have a shitty crossbow and some magically preserved rations, so you're already ready. Whether to trust that information or not is up to you. I set off towards the town as I give a final farewell to Hall Dharduhr, home of Clan Wyrmsbane. You bid farewell to your foster clan as you set off, with your subpar hammer, shitty wooden shield and magically preserved rations. |
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