Added a few more details, hope it helps. Also added animal companion.
most history ought to come out IC, that is true. It doesn't matter how well-written a character is if he/she doesn't work out when used. we've had characters that were very detailed, but when used simply did not agree with any of the planning, going off on its own merry little tangent. (those often turn out to be the best sort of character, really, the ones with "life" of their own)
That part about angles makes sense really. The only part that made us note it was that we'd been researching it earlier and created a mixed-blood character at the same time.
Try adding a few more parts, but you don't need to add a lot, just enough so that other players have a better idea of how they would naturally interact with and comprehend it. Look at huscarl's for comparison. Its short, but covers fairly well despite that.
Added a few more details, hope it helps. Also added animal companion.
looks better. We're always a bit more critical than Werther, so we'll let him decide if its sufficient.
Just curious, though... how can a creature with only one "limb" capable of gripping (the mouth) pull arrows out of whatever they're stuck into without breaking them? (its one thing for an animal to grip a child by the scruff of the neck, the scruff is designed to handle it. An arrow typically isn't...
(that's mostly philosophical, mind you. Not really critique of it.)
It's difficult to find a picture of a female High Elf that doesn't show a lot of cleavage.
Not sure if you meant to use "your" or "you're"?
For the moment, I'm extremely drunk. I can't understand anything.
Excuse me, but every Friday will be the same.
Sorry for misunderstandings.
Midway in our lifes, I astray
from the straight road and woke to find myself in the dark wood.
Tall, lean and hard of body, Farin bears a passing resemblance to a starved predator. Haunted eyes of dark brown are framed by a widow's peak, raven black hair falling in waves to his collar, and ever-present dust and grime lies in smears across a granite-hard face. A wry smile is commonplace upon his lips- that, or the fierce snarl of battle.
With a willowy and muscled physique, Farin carries himself in a way that suggests a casual power, like that of a hunter stalking his prey. His right arm is considerably more impressive than his left, a common feature among swordsmen, but he is not completely lopsided; a decade of broken wrists from sparring have forced him to learn the basics of swordsmanship ambidextrously. Despite a body that is bruised and damaged all over, one mark is more noticeable than it's peers- below his right armpit, about halfway down his torso lies a knotted scar, though it's cause is a secret he prefers not to impart.
Across Farin's shoulders is slung a weather-worn cloak of black wool, fastened at the collar. The hem is torn and ragged, the result of many days on the road and many nights in the wild. Beneath the cloak is a grey tunic of surprisingly fine cut- it seems a strange thing for a wandering beggar to possess such clothing- but this again is stained by dusk and grime. Loose leggings cover his lower body, and hard leather boots his feet. Across Farin's midriff is strapped a leather belt, wound twice around his slight figure. Two daggers hang in sheaths, one from either hip, but perhaps most surprising of all is the blade slung across his back. A simple leather scabbard, unadorned, is bearer to a plain longsword of burnished steel. While plain to look at, the blade's beauty comes from its condition; blazing silver steel, shining like the day it was forged. It's only adornment is a simple engraving on the wooden pommel; a sigil of a griffin.
Fighter (Although with a striker flavour, as opposed to the traditional defender fighter)
Farin has a wide range of skills, and is knowledgeable to a scale that seems unlikely for a lost refugee. He is perfectly literate, and has a conversational knowledge of herbs, numbers and history for reasons unexplained. However, his finest talent is doubtless his prowess at arms. He fights with all the grace of a leaping panther and the speed of a mountain wolf, flying from foe to foe in a mesh of whirling steel. He scorns the cliché that a fight is like a dance; a fight is a two opponents facing to the death, and should be met with all the ferocity and brutality implied.
(Obviously, there is a lot I am keeping to myself here. Rest assured that his full history explains the possession of an expensive sword, his education and his rather cliché last name. If the GM wants to see it, I can PM the details.)
A refugee from the war-torn east, Farin shared the fate of so many other refugees like himself; cast out, scorned, and forced to sell his services to the highest bidder. In Farin's case, that service was his sword. He spent nigh upon a year sworn to every hedge noble and petty lord in the lands, each who kicked him aside once they had no more use for his blade. Finally, tired and bitter from disappointment and deprecation, he left his masters to carve for himself a life of honour and riches with the keen edge of his sword.
After months on the dusty road, the inns getting seedier and his clothes more ragged with each stop, Farin began to realise that this life of bravado and glory was not to be. He became bitter, secluded, abandoning his pride and ambitions in favour of having food on the table. His already opaque morals became shrouded in a haze of self-pity and wry satire, his already withdrawn personality became inclined towards introversion and alcoholism. It is in this state that he is found today, a man unwound and at odds with the world.
At best a satirist and at worst a pessimist, Farin is not one to see the gold at the end of the rainbow. While he is able to make light of the direst of situations with wry jokes and sarcastic comments, his overall outlook on the world is tinged with dusk and gloom. He enjoys the company of those who have a similarly cynical personality, but finds it difficult to interact with those who have a more positive view of their environment, either seeing them as idiots or envying their lot in life.
Though not a craven, Farin is certainly no brave knight. In dire straights, he is a realist and will not hesitate to run should it seem like the only way forward. He is not immoral and does not believe in leaving friends to die, but he also does not believe in unnecessary sacrifice and pain. However, when he does fight he is ferocious- putting his entire being and willpower behind the desire to rip his opponent to shred.
Towards morality, Farin has a confused approach. He does not believe in the existence of "Good" and "Evil", as in his eyes there is no sense pondering over greater questions when life is such an insignificant thing. His sole concerns are for his happiness, and for the happiness of the people he cares about- whether they be saint or sinner. That said, he does not needlessly put others to pain, nor is he a psychopath; he is merely practical.
Equipment and Armour:
Hand and 1/2 longsword
Two daggers, balanced for throwing
- Trail rations
- Bed roll
- 5 unlit torches
- Flint and steel
- Hempen rope (50ft)
~May joy live in your heart~
50 feet of rope, now that is quite a bit... probably not space for much else in there, at least not if its of natural materials and strong enough to take a decent load...
Beyond that, nothing to speak of. A very well-made character. we'd say its well worth tagging as 'approved'.
@Werther: Have fun drinkin'...
[ insert slightly mocking grin ]Enjoy the possible headache tomorrow. [/end joke]
@Lucius: can't guarantee anything. Depending on whether the two last-submitted characters are both approved or not, there's 1-2 character slots open. you submit a character, and we'll look it over. If there's more candidates for the remaining slots than slots by the next time decisions are made, then somehow it'll be decided between them. Maybe based on a drawn lot, maybe on order of submission, but hopefully based on which characters then seem to fit best into the greater story. We have no idea which.
scout/ranger (with hint of basic mage)
Will be better tomorrow, should head to bed soon enough. Thanks for being co-gm. Will check everything tomorrow. Drank like 6 litres of beers and had few cigarettes on top of that, wild friday. What's better than realizing that Im sympathy for some girls. Slef confidence goes up.
Midway in our lifes, I astray
from the straight road and woke to find myself in the dark wood.
Name: Vorinclex Urabrask Karnage
Homeland: Was born in the lands of the Orc, but has no home of his own.
Due to botched spell, he has fused into his armor, giving his natural flesh the property of steel. This makes his body numb and hard for him to feel things, though it also makes his flesh harder then most orcs. The Armor also covers his vitals, but also his genitals. As of right now, he is unable to remove this armor.
Class: Black Smith/Hunter
Skills: As a Hunter, Vorinclex is proficient at using a spear, which he also incorporates a shield with. He can also rig up traps from simple snares to deadly spikes, with time and preparation. But before he was allowed to use weapons, he had to use his hands, making him quiet able in hand-to-hand combat, as well as throwing objects with deadly efficiency. He can stalk his prey as he is very stealthy, sometimes disappearing. He's also familiar with using large heavy weapons, though this is due to being a Blacksmith, which isn't combat oriented. A talented Black Smith, he has photographic reflexes, able to recreate the creation of other blacksmiths he sees.
Flesh of Flame: Vorinclex is able to cover his body in in an intense flame without harming himself. He uses this Spell to escape most cages or monster stomachs by melting his way through. Flames do not go past his own body, but he can light other objects or people on fire if he makes physical contact with them. In this state, Vorinxclex is also immune to flames and other intense sources of heat.
One with Earth: Vorinclex is able to meld into unprocessed earth, dirt, and stone, and move within it without difficulty. This spell also allows him to extract rocks and ores from the Earth without the need of a tool.
Background: Vorinclex was born in the land of Orcs, but his parents were Wild Orcs; they serve their country, but they had no home of their own. His father was a blacksmith of their clan, Clan Karnage, and his mother was one of the Clan's Shaman. Vorinclex grew up like most orcs, learning their place in the clan. All young male orcs had to learn how to hunt, first by learning how to form traps, and then to kill. But they were not given even a knife for either task; everything was done by hand alone. The young Orc boys would have to use their knowledge and wits to cobble together traps, and if they were successful, they had to use their own two hands to kill their prey. Vorinclex was one of the more talented hunters, as he had the natural aptitude to copy the movements of others. He watched successful hunters make traps, and simply did as they did, and when it came time to kill, he did what they did. He also learned the effectiveness of thrown rocks from Halflings that his clan would sometimes trade with; the hairy and short humanoids would slay dangerous animals with a well thrown stone to the face, or for some of the stronger ones, piercing the animal through their body with just rocks. Karnage learned this, and he taught his other fellow hunters how to hunt with rocks. Soon he and their generation of orcs began to excess quickly as they began to hunt down their prey with thrown stones.
When Vorinclex began to grow older, it was time that he took up the craft of his mother or father. He started with his father first, as his mother was busy with her duties. Vorinclex picked up smithing fast, though he most mostly kitchenware and tools. the closes thing to weapons he ever made were forks, blunt ladles, and knives. But this was not because Vorinclex was unable to make more complex things; his father simply only taught him how to make them. So in private, Vorinclex would vist other smiths, weapon smiths and armorers, as well as artisans and engineers. From these people, Vorinclex learned how to create the things they made, though his time as a smith was sometimes changed to learn how to be a Shaman. Vorinclex mother wanted to teach him how to be one with nature; the place where Clan Karnage took everything they needed. She taught him now to wreath his body in flame, and how to be embraced by the ground they walk on. But the difficulty Vorinclex had was to share his mother's mind set; he didn't want this power to be in harmony with nature. He wanted to control it; bend it to his needs. While he mastered two of his mother's spells, due to his inability to think like her, she ended his training. This left him to focus on his time being a blacksmith, training with his father to one day be able to take up the mantle and be a clan smith.
As Vorinclex approached adulthood, there was two trials he must undergo. The first trial regarded becoming an adult male; he was to hunt down a powerful monster and bring it's corpse back to the clan. The second trial regarded his occupation in the clan, which meant he needed to create a masterpiece through his blacksmithing. Vorinclex spent time getting ready, from crafting his first weapon (a lance) and armor (A shield), he also received a gift from his father; a magic hammer for forging, that could withstand great heat. His mother tried to give him a gift too, which was a suit of armor made from a wood that was as hard as steel. However, due to a botched spell from a trainee Shaman that hit him, Vorinclex became one with said armor. Despite that little mishaps, Vorinclex had no desire to recover from it, and felt that this was actually a good thing. So at the age of twenty, Vorinclex left his clan for his first trial of Clan Karnage, and to prepare himself for the second trial.
Personality: Vorinclex tends to be quiet, but he's friendly enough for an Orc. He offers his help if he can see if help, and would sometimes give away some of his crafts for no reason other then whimsy. Doesn't look kindly on thieves, however. As typical for Orcs, if there is a problem, he will solve it with violence, usually with death. His own views could be call strange to some, and even amongst his fellow orcs he's something of an oddball. Dislikes humans for constantly forcing him into petty conflicts, and thinks that all humans will attempt to get him into a petty conflict. Thus he tends to ignore or at least limit his interaction with them. If they persist in bothering him, he will kill them.
Equipment and armor: Has 7 dales, as well as a Lance and Shield (used, but in good condition), and his Enchanted Blacksmith Hammer that is resistant to flames and heat. Carries a large sack made of monster hide, filled with metal ingots. Also has a Slab of salted meat made from High Elf. Is melded with a suit of armor that is as hard as steel.
Name: Lucilia Riovas
Race: Human (With a bit of elf)
Homeland: Born in the south-east, between the scorching desert and the elven forest. The town is called Cactus City (despite it not having the population expected of a city) due to it's abundance of catus, which they use for trade, cooking, crafting, and medicine.
Can see in the dark, though her eyes get irritated if she stares at anything too long. She has a rather light build, and not particularly athletic or durable. She spent most of her time studying or plotting, not jogging. So when it comes to melee, she tries to keep her distance.
Skills: Most of Lucilia's skills are in her magic ability. She can read books quickly and chant at high speeds. She's also a decent alchemist, able to balance ingredients to make some effective potions, medicines, foods, and explosives. She's also built up an immunity towards multiple poisons, mostly due to poisoning her own food to prevent others from eating it.
Shapeshifting: After an extensive study of the creature of choice, she can change her body structure to match theirs perfectly. In this form, she can also communicate with whatever creature she has turned into, as well as her native language. She is also able preform partial transformation. However, staying in a transformed state for a long period of time can do some damage to her psyche; her mind will eventually fully adapt to whatever form she's taken, so she usually doesn't stay in any particular form for longer then thirty minutes at most.
Illusions: By releasing magics that corrupt and mess with the minds of others, Lucilia can employ illusions that can trick an unsuspecting target of things that are not truly there.
Nature Magics: Lucilia has a general ability for nature magic, but she only knows one spell:
Instant Growth: Lucilia can use her magic to cause plants to grow instantaneously from their seed.
Background: Lucilia's "parents" were never around to raise her. Born to the a male elf and a female human, they thought they were in love. But shortly after the birth of Lucilia, something happened that made them break apart. Whatever it was, Lucilia could not even be raised by her birth parents. She was simply left at a temple, to be adopted by the priests. while growing up, she never even had a name for her own; she wasn't known as Lucilia Riovas until she was five years old, where she gave herself the name. But her time with the priest was nice enough; it was not their place to name her, but they always refereed to her as "my child", and made sure to raise her with good ideals and basic education. Growing up, Lucilia spent most of her time wondering the streets of Cactus City; despite it's name, it was a small town, though it did grow a lot of cacti. The town had about hundred citizens, most of them adults. She got along with the children, though the people that interested her the most were the elves; they would sometimes venture out from the forest and trade with the people in Cactus City, and it was from them that Lucilia was set on her path of becoming a mage.
When she was ten years old, Lucilia learned about her ability with magic. It started when she traded some elves for flower seeds. Living in a desert area, things like flowers tend to not grow, especially from seeds that grow only in forests. This was when she learned of her magic; she was able to plant the flower seeds and grow them in a desert, using her magic to provide it life. The priest saw her potential, and when the next supply caravan arrived, that had Lucilia go to a wizard city to learn to improve her magic. She was okay with this, though she would sometimes miss the home she once lived in.
During her teen years, Lucilia's life was much different. She was something of a county mouse; quiet, soft spoken, polite. The city she moved to had people who were ambitious, manipulative, and two-faced. Sure, they were polite and helpful on the surface, but soon enough she learned that she was being used like a pawn. She had to learn how to play the game of kissing-up, black mail, and manipulating others. She hardly enjoyed this, however, as she was here to learn how to improve her magic. But with so much under-the-table activity going on, if she stayed out of the loop, she might have found herself kicked out into the streets for reasons unknown. Despite having the play the game of manipulation, however, she still kept the virtues she learned at the temple. Or at least, she tries too.
As Lucilia grew to twenty years old, she had managed to learn two different types of magic: Shapeshifitng and Illusion. She learn these two spells mostly for their application to manipulating others; taking on the form of her opponents to smear their name, using illusions to trick them. But despite learning these spells, she never bothered to developed her Nature magic. At least, not until she found something interesting. She was looking for evidence against a student when she discovered a book on Nature Magic. However, it was written all in elvish. She only knew enough to know what the book was about, so she tried to learn elvish to better decipher the book. But around this time, the game she had to play against other students started getting out of hands. students were found beaten, sometimes killed, for reasons people outside the game wouldn't know. Fearing for her life, Lucilia fled the city, taking the Elvin book with her.
Personality: Lucilia can be genuinely kind and warm-hearted, but she's also an amateur manipulator and can easily tell lies. While she doesn't like to, she knows that it is necessary at times, and the more she uses it, the less she has a problem with it. However, she's protect of those she calls friends or allies, or people she wants to have as friends or allies. But ever since moving to the city, she has a hard time really connecting to others, as she always keeps them at length. While she would call you a friend, she still acts so distance that she can come off as a mystery. So, even if she stands in your defense at times, if your life is worth something she wants, she will betray you, like many others before. She can't resist chocolate, however, and can be easily bribed with it, and has a phobia of blindness. And despite her tendency to try to manipulate others, she can be very gullible and conceded when she thinks she's actually succeeding. Tends to be lethargic when it comes to physical activity, taking her time to do nearly everything. She's not very athletic.
Equipment and armor: 12 Golden Danes, a barely used steel kukuri, her mage robes (Lightly worn), a packet of dried plants (some edible, some medical, many of them poisonous), her Alchemy set, a book on plants, and an Elvin Tome of Nature Magic.