This is such a great idea. Y'all have room for one more?

Kinda interested, you still have room for more?

This is such a great idea. Y'all have room for one more?

Kinda interested, you still have room for more?

@Tortoise My current idea is a mother and her child. Not sure if there will be much magic involved.
Also, is there a list of the current nations / places? I might not use any of them, but I want to know if there are any already created cities that might house my character's backstory. Good to build on others ideas and all that.

@Tortoise I think I'll make my own! Fun worldbuilding practice.
Are there any recommendations / guidelines / hard no's when it comes to content within the character's backstory? Right now, my character is a former prostitute, and I just wanted to make sure there were no objections to that. There's no graphic content in the backstory, but if anyone is uncomfortable with the concept, I can make a different character.

<Snipped quote by OliveYou>

We have room for infinite more!

<Snipped quote by Theyra>

Indeed! I allow as many people as want to join. Whatchya thinking about making?

Lynn, The Weaver [+]

✴ ꒒ꌦꋊꋊ & Pietro ✴

#9F84FF ✦ #B7D1FF

Human, 28, about one year with the caravan // Human, 6

✴ Appearance: Lynn has curly blonde hair that reaches just below her ears and blue eyes like the autumn sky. She was once young and beautiful, but her innocence has long since been lost, and her beauty has been weathered by years of hardship. Her eyes, once clear and bright, are now sad and tired. Her body bears the marks of abuse, hard work, and motherhood. But past her bruises, scars, and stretch marks is a resolute mother, and that determination has made her hands rougher and her arms stronger. The callouses on her hands are from her weaving.

She usually wears long robes and dresses in dark colors--gray, black, dark blue, and dark purple. She tries to hide her figure as much as possible, aware of the looks and judgement it brings.

Her dear Pietro takes much after his father, with short, black hair, wide brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across his face. His round face is expressive and honest. He wears a dark blue tunic with green lizards on it--hand-woven by his mother.

History [+]

Lynn was once young. She once lived a modest but happy life in the countryside, surrounded by those who loved her. And she once saw the smoke rising from her neighbor's homes, and the warlord's army descending. As a child, Lynn saw her village razed, her parents murdered, and her friends taken away to become slaves, like her. Barely a teenager and now a slave, Lynn was shipped across seas and carted across plains for more than a year, traded between the hands of merchants who dealt with humans like livestock. At the end of the journey was a city that seemed like paradise--the city of Liva.

Ah, Liva! City of color and light, city of smells and tastes and sights so wonderous one might even call it gaudy! Here, the women dress up for breakfast, then change their outfits at lunchtime, and then again for dinner, evening, and bed. Here, the men parade the streets on majestic black steeds, armor gleaming, glittering, blinding. Here, the children light firecrackers in the streets at dusk, their shouts of joy mixing with the sounds of the city--half melody, half cacophony. In Liva, festivals are held almost every day, and the people are permanently drunk with wild joy, or maybe just drunk.

In loud, blinding Liva, Lynn found herself.

Liva was lively. Yes, even beautiful; but even the most beautiful city has its flaws, and Lynn saw most of them up close. The love of beauty became vanity, the love of celebration became frenzy, and the love of love became lust. And for a city whose appetite for the beautiful, shiny, and spectacular is unending, the supply must be also be unending. With her golden curls and rapidly developing figure--a non-issue to the Lynn Protected, but a dangerous, unnerving thing to the Lynn Captured--Lynn was the perfect product. The madam of the Blue Rose, a well-to-do brothel, immediately recognized the value in the young girl, and purchased her on the spot.

She was sold at the age of 14. By 15, she was a favorite of many patrons across Liva, both important and unimportant, and Madam Rose could not be more proud of her top earner.

Those years were the hardest for Lynn. The people of Liva did everything so loudly, and she struggled to learn their flowery language and extravagant customs. And while not every client of hers was a depraved beast, all were faceless, unfeeling. She grew used to being used. Her blonde curls, once the pride of the village, were now just another reminder of the vanity of Livans. Her body was a nothing more than an encouragement to insult, to catcall, to touch, to judge, to use. She was always being touched, everywhere. Some men would hurt her. Others would barely look at her.

By the time she was 18, though, things had begun to change. Madam Rose and the Blue Rose had prospered, and the prostitutes of the brothel were treated well. Lynn ate well; she was warm and well-groomed. Her beauty had fully blossomed, and she knew how to reel in the customers with a gentle and kind demeanor. The other prostitutes knew her, and while some were jealous, others offered her advice and wisdom. She learned how to navigate Liva, learned how to speak their language like she was born there, learned to love, in least in some small part of her, their festivals, their fashion, their songs.

It was then that she was introduced to the loom. The craft of weaving captured Lynn's heart and mind. The weavers of Liva were proud and skilled craftswomen, and Lynn admired their dedication and their stern countenances--traits so not like Livans, and yet these weavers were behind all the most beautiful outfits in the city. It took time to learn the craft, and longer to convince the weavers to teach her, but soon enough Lynn had a small loom in her room, where she would weave for hours. The detailed, repetitive work soothed her; feeling the threads grounded her mind in the present, the painful memories of the last decade melted away into nothingness, and Lynn could believe she was almost happy.

Things continued like that for years. Lynn continued her work at the loom and at the brothel, dreaming of the day she could sell her work, leave the Blue Rose, and maybe even go home. The turning point came when she met Valentin.

Tall, handsome, and gentlemanly, Valentin was her client only once. Captured by Lynn's beauty and intrigued by what might lie behind her gentle persona, he returned to the Blue Rose again and again, just to catch a glimpse of the "true Lynn." Lynn was struck by Valentin's unbothered manner, his oddly modest dress, and the way he seemed to really care about her. What began as curiosity grew into a friendship, and then, eventually, a romantic relationship. For the first time in more than a decade, Lynn felt respected and loved. For the first time in years, she had hope for a better future.

At 26, Lynn gave birth to her third child, a son.

Finally. A chance at a happy life, a normal life. Away from the Blue Rose, away from Madam Rose, away from her past life. Valentin had wealth, but he was also private; with him, Lynn could spend her days weaving and caring for her son, unbothered by the judgement of society. Just them three, a happy family.

Imagine her surprise, then, when Lynn discovered that Valentin had a wife. Heartbroken and furious, she confronted Valentin, only for him to dismiss, berate, and insult her. It was when he raised his hand against her that she understood: Valentin was not going to give her the happy life she wanted. She returned to her loom in tears, her hopes and spirit crushed.

Yet, when she looked at her newborn son, she couldn't stand the idea of staying in Liva a second longer. Her son deserved better than this vapid, soulless city that had used and abused her for so long. It was clear Valentin didn't care about them and wouldn’t lift a finger to help, and Madam Rose was bound to be just as (or more) merciless.

It was decided, then: She would have to do this herself.

Lynn's departure was as unassuming as her entrance. No Livan paid mind to the woman with a baby boy in her arms, her precious loom strapped to her back, and her curls chopped off. She boarded the caravan without a second thought, refusing to look back at the city she had called home for decades. The Lynn of Liva was no more. And good riddance!

✴ Personality: Tired, so tired. Lynn has spent a lifetime being used by others, and makes one weary.

Outwardly, Lynn will appear quiet, mild, and gentle, but inside, she is a woman of resolute strength and will. She is wary of anybody or anything that could pose a threat to her child, and she's fiercely protective of her son and his happiness. Healing for herself may be impossible, but she'll do anything she can to ensure that Pietro has a long, full life ahead of him. Even if that means lying, manipulating, or seducing (hopefully not!).

Past the secrecy and distrust, though, is a warm and loving mother. Lynn wouldn't think of herself this way, but she is still capable of great love, especially to young women and children. The past year with the caravan has given her some time to relax and perhaps even heal, and her weaving and her son give her something to work for. Maybe, given enough time, she can begin to hope again.

Lynn brings with her Pietro, also called "Pio" by his mother and other children. Pio is a bright and energetic child, endlessly curious about the world. Traveling the caravan at such a young age has given him an endless supply of new things to learn and new people to talk to! He can usually be found asking never-ending questions to anyone who will answer him--under his mother's supervision, of course. Pio has an interest in magic, among many others, but his mother is unsure if he should pursue it.

✴ Motivation: To give her child a better life, and to find the children she's lost.

✴ Skills: Lynn has no magic, but she is a skilled weaver with decades of experience in the art of making clothing, from procuring supplies to dyeing garments to sewing, etc. She speaks several languages (this is to be determined when I know how many languages there are) and possesses a lovely singing voice. She is good with children and often takes care of the caravan's children.

✴ Strengths: Although she's no scholar, Lynn could be called "street smart." She knows her way around people and money and is pretty perceptive.

✴ Weaknesses: Lynn is only human; she isn't going to put up a fight against any physical or magical force. Like many of the caravan, she prefers to keep to herself, and she can't read or write. She is also incredibly touch-adverse, and will freeze up or lash out if touched without warning.

✴ Tools: Her loom and her weaving supplies. Her and Pietro rent half of a wagon from an older woman in the caravan.

Additional Info [+]

What She Most Wants: for Pio to be happy.

If She Had a DnD Alignment, It Would Be: True Neutral

Three Likes: Weaving, Pietro, a long nap

Three Dislikes: Being touched, being stared at, liars

Does She Follow Her Heart or Their Mind?: Heart

Worst Fear: Losing Pietro

Favorite Color: Royal Purple

Favorite Food: Tomato Sandwich.

Favorite Time of Day: Sunset.

Favorite Season: Autumn.

What Gods/Spirits/Whatevers She Worships: Lynn has prayed to them all, and none of them have answered.

Other: Lynn has had two other children in her youth, both daughters, that were taken from her soon after birth. She aches for them.

All done and waiting for confirmation :).

But most roleplays that I've ran have, at some point or another, had at least one player think of some insane stuff that I couldn't have possibly anticipated when I wrote the rules out.

Ere we go, Vorex the knowledge thingy

Some things are subject to change, this is just a V0.1 version

Vorex Lector [+]

Name: Vorex Lector



Race, Age, Time in the Caravan:

A Homonculus created by an ancient civilization. Basically it's life-infused clay, but unlike a Golem it has a mind of it's own. 5610 years old. Last seen wandering the Forest of Emerald


Appearance:

As a Homonculus, Vorex has a weird look to it. A singular massive eye is the key feature of its look. However the dark blue skin does not help either, it stands a small 132 cm (4'3) tall with weirdly long arms and hands in the shape of a human.

History:
Vorex was granted life eons ago by an ancient forgotten civilization. Even Vorex does not know who, or what created it. It was granted a sole purpose in life, to protect the knowledge within the massive library it was created in. This could be achieved by use of force, persuasion or by sheerly memorizing the books. Which is eventually what Vorex did, as a Homonculus without brain, it was not limited by how much information it could absorb. Thus Vorex started absorbing all the books in the grandiose library, however, it turns out there was 1 caveat. Vorex could not access the knowledge by his own wanting, he could copy books perfectly at the request of others, but not access them himself.

During the fall of the unknown empire, the library was destroyed beyond help. The architecture in shambles, the books burned, forgotten or turned to dust Vorex was left without a purpose and all on its own. It had due to some fortunate accident survived the fall and raiding that went before that. One fateful day it had gotten stuck in a place in the library, a place nobody really checked, thus he sat there waiting... and waiting... waiting for someone to come free it. This took an endless amount of time until enough time had passed for the entire ecosystem around Vorex to change. A small creek had grown into a grand river during the course of thousands of years. This in turn had corroded the place where Vorex was stuck leaving him with a way out. Thus inspecting his surroundings Vorex had concluded his masters were no more. Its last purpose rang in its head, rebuild the library, and with that Vorex set out.

Personality:

Created with one purpose in mind, Vorex will do whatever it deems necessary to rebuild the library he was created in. Currently, that means joining the Caravan to gather new information, new books, and new places to learn. Vorex is amicable to others and willing to help by virtue of creating books.


Motivation:

Gathering of knowledge, finding a way to rebuild the grand Library.


Skills:

Has basically an entire library stuffed away in his head and is inhumanely fast in copying books from it.

Strengths:

Trained in close-quarters combat, to protect itself and the books.

Can divide its mind into 2. This allows it to constantly write while doing other things or double the speed at which it copies books.

A font of knowledge.

Weaknesses:

Has all this insane knowledge but no way to access it by itself.

Basically created for 1 thing and 1 thing only. He does not possess anything beyond that, which leads to it coming off as completely socially inept.


Tools:

A duo of magically enchanted quills that are linked. If one writes in the air the other will write that down in a book. (Credit to @Expendable for coming up with this idea)

Extras [+]

What They Most Want:

To find their library or rebuild it.

If They Had a DnD Alignment, It Would Be:

True Neutral

Three Likes:

Knowledge, people asking for books, learning new things.

Three Dislikes:

People disrespecting books, people hoarding knowledge and his past.


Do They Follow Their Heart or Their Mind?:

Their mind, for Vorex has no heart


Worst Fear:

Being unable to rebuild the grand library.

Favorite Color:

None, Vorex was not given one.

Most Like The Animal:

A crow? Since it's linked to knowledge and wisdom.

Favorite Time of Day:

Night.

How They Dress:

Always seen in what seems to be the same jute coat.


Favorite Season:

None, Vorex was not given one.

What Gods/Spirits/Whatevers They Worship (If Any):

None.

<Snipped quote by twannyman>

A p p r o v e d. I like the idea that he has the knowledge in his head, but he can only access it when someone asks for it to be written out. Like he theoretically knows the width and shape of the world, or how a necromancer becomes a lich, or what the speed of an unladen swallow is, but he can't actually remember any of that until the quill is in his hand.

Being the GM should exempt you from character sheets or smth.

<Snipped quote by Tortoise>

Important Non-Player Characters should have a character sheet, for much the same reason players create character sheets - to remind them of their character's details.

Minor characters who won't be interacting much with the players should have a brief writeup if only for you to reuse them again. Like the Quartermaster's Assistant - Harold - This teen boy makes you think of a strutting cat. He has round chestnut eyes. His fine, wavy, neck-length hair is the color of varnished wood, and is worn in an unruly style. He is very short and has a graceful build. His skin is pale. He has a wide forehead and small hands. He wears a green beret, a tanned leather jerkin, a dark green peasant blouse, dark brown breeches, and a tanned leather belt with a small knife in a sheath. He's usually barefoot. He likes to flirt with the girls when they pick up their supplies.

Harold really doesn't need much more. Some will never get a write-up, good for a scene and gone.

<Snipped quote by Tortoise>

Important Non-Player Characters should have a character sheet, for much the same reason players create character sheets - to remind them of their character's details.

<Snipped quote by Expendable>

I disagree. We're a smart bunch; we can remember the details of recurring characters, as we already see people doing with Hoogarth. And if someone does forget, I'm here to remember. Making a whole CS for a character nobody plays is a lot of work and a lot of reading for no real gain, and rubs my GM'ing instincts the wrong way.

<Snipped quote by Expendable>

Harold seems like a lovely lad.