Race: Dwarf Gender: Male Class: Guardian Fighter Date of Birth/Age: Old enough to be yer pappy Hairsyle & Color: Dark brown hair Eyes: Brown eyes Skin Tone: Slightly tanned Height: 4' 3" Weight: 220 lbs.
Birthplace/Homeland: In a small dwarvish settlement where the mountains are high, the trees are green, and there is never want for food or family. Relatives: Aldera Dragonsbane, old and loving mother. Orick Dragonsbane, proud father (deceased). Eriks Dragonsbane, brother.
Description: Urist is a portly dwarf covered in armor and angry scowls. Dirt covers his face and a few scars remain from past adventures.
Background/Biography: Born a dwarf of the dwarfiest stature, Urist was destined for greatness. Born and raised in happy village, all that would come to an end when he was sent to the river to fetch some fresh water. Unfortunately for him, the current was stronger than he expected and he was swept downriver and subsequently became lost. He wandered upstream where he came upon a caravan heading towards a human city. He joined the militia and vowed to one day take revenge on the water that separated his family from him. One day he would meet again with his dear old mother and finally claim vengeance against all water everywhere.
And he will have his vengeance, no matter who stands in his way.
Name: Darth Norris Title: Lord of the Sith Brotherhood Alias(es): The Shadowed One
Race: Orc Gender: Male Class: Trickster Rogue Date of Birth/Age: 1455 DR / 33 years Hairsyle & Color: Dreadlocks Eyes: Morphing Skin Tone: Grey/Green Height: 6' Weight: 170 lbs.
Birthplace/Homeland: Neverwinter Relatives: The Sith Brotherhood. Family of shadows
Description: Darth Norris is as unreadable and deep as a bottomless well. His eyes are always changing, his gaze locked from focus to focus. Calm and collected, Norris stays in control of every emotion and never let's a situation get the best of him.
Background/Biography: Raised among the Sith brotherhood of Neverwinter; Chuck Norris received his Lord hood title of “Darth” at the age of 16 after successfully assassinating rebel gang leader, Juke Drywalker. A cunning master of the dark arts, thievery, and an unstoppable foe of shadowed combat; Lord Norris travels the world in search of adventure and riches, but most of all seeking challenges that push his fighting skills beyond that of any other mortal. Spoken of throughout the kingdoms as “The Shadowed One”, Lord Norris’ reputation is only preceded by the ancient blade in which he wields, “Nilosthar, The Black Blade”.
The dagger was forged when the world was still very young, by ancient and powerful magic. The darkness of a thousand nights lives within the blade, engulfing the surrounding light as a Black Hole in space while shrouding the wielder in complete darkness and shadow, rendering one invisible to un-aided eyes. An inscription in an ancient tongue is inscribed along the blades face, reading “The shadows are my brethren, and they walk with me always.”
“Fortune favors those that slay the bold and steal their gold.” – Darth Norris
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jsmurfedMember, Neverwinter Beta Users, Neverwinter Hero Users, Neverwinter Knight of the Feywild UsersPosts: 39
edited May 2013
Name: Vasae de Vandree Title: Mistress Alias: The Dancer of Blood
Race: Drow Gender: Female Class: Control Wizard Age: 149 years Hairsyle & Color: Shoulder length tussled white hair Eyes: Red Skin Tone: Dark Height: 5' 7" Weight: 112 lbs.
Birthplace/Homeland: Menzoberranzan Relatives: Niece to Troken'ther Vandree (former matron mother of House Vandree), cousin to Fiirnel'ther Vandree (current matron mother of House Vandree)
Description:
At first glance, nothing seems too out of place. Average height and average build for a Drow, it isn't until people notice that same Drow heritage that they begin to shun her. But despite this, she presses forward, her inquisitive nature of all things regarding the surface world making her capable of seeing past the petty discrimination.
Her name, Vasae, translates to The Dancer of Blood in the common tongue, a nickname that she both relishes and revels in. Her quirky, curious, sometimes outright cheerful personality takes mos by surprise, it isn't until people who have earned her scorn find out just why she revels in her name-sake, which is usually when they're on the receiving en of her deadly magic, or a dagger to the face for those times when the personal touch is needed.
She has been able to make a handful of friends since leaving Menzoberranzan, but due to her curiosity gaining the better of her, she has left most of them when she has decided to continue her travels.
Background:
Born and raised in Menzoberranzan as a noble in one of the lower noble houses, House Vandree, Vasae Vandree showed great aptitude for the arcane arts from a young age. Tutored in Sorcere until coming of age, she was assigned to the surface "trading" parties in fear that she would start a power struggle with her older cousin for the title of Matron Mother. As such, Vasae was very rarely present in the House, and had very little to do with the House politics.
After many years of "trading" with the surface, Vasae formed an unnatural infatuation with the world above the Underdark, and sought to uncover as many mysteries of the strange world as she could.
It wasn't until after a trade gone wrong that the ire of her older cousin caught up with her. Her admiration of the world above was perceived as softness during her last rai- trade, which led to the death of many Drow, including some promising young priestesses of Lolth.
It was then that Fiirnel'ther devised the plan that would not only see Vasae out from underfoot, but also benefit the house in turn. For all outward signs, Vasae appears to have been banished from the Underdark, but has been given the task of travelling to he surface world, she is to learn as much of the ways and customs of the surface dwellers as she could, and report back to House Vandree in secret each year with her findings.
It has been this path which led her to the beseiged Neverwinter, and given any other direction or ambition, Vasae will stay in the torn city, until it either bores her or she is called back home...
Killing orcs is like washing a pig. Turn your back for a second and the filth is back...
The good thing about having three characters at max gives me a choice on how much butt I want to kick. For balls-to-the-wall murder, I go with the Great Weapon Fighter. The Wizard is the one that runs around laughing maniacally yelling "Catch me if you can", while the Guardian Fighter flips you off and is all like "Come at me, bro"
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zhekraforumMember, Neverwinter Beta Users, Neverwinter Hero UsersPosts: 1Arc User
edited May 2013
Name: Vargax
Title(s): Redhand
Aliases: None
Race: Tiefling
Hair: Long, dark
Eyes: Sunken, red
Skin: Pallid
Height:: 6'6"
Weight: 240 lb
Age: See below
Class: Trickster Rogue
Birthplace/Relatives: Undisclosed
Description: Vargax could best be described as a towering brute, so muscular as to look bloated. Despite this, with his long, dark hair and exaggerated physique, Vargax might almost be attractive; if not for his face. Red eyes set deep in blackened sockets and a dark-lipped mouth bristling with jagged teeth conspire to render his visage monstrous. Taking a kind perverse pride in his appearance, Vargax typically wears fine clothes of black silk, cut to best emphasize his distended bulk and hideous features. Despite his unpleasant demeanor and coarse behaviour, Vargax is literate and demonstrates a vocabulary suggestive of some erudition.
Background/Biography: Vargax is a man without hidden depth, being precisely what his appearance suggests: a big, mean-spirited lout of questionable ancestry. With his terrifying appearance, physical prowess and base cunning; Vargax possesses all the necessary attributes to become a villain of some renown, but his lack of ambition, coupled with a measure of simple laziness, has left him as nothing more than a rather unaccomplished adventurer.
Vargax has never mentioned his age, and his features are so grotesque as to make it nigh impossible to guess. He may be in his youth, or well past middle age. As yet, no one has bothered to enquire.
When he is not brawling in the streets, Vargax can usually be found at the bottom of a bottle in whichever tavern looks the least reputable to his inebriated eye. He sets forth in search of adventure most grudgingly, and only when he has exhausted his supply of gold on drink and bribes to avoid imprisonment.
Of late, however, Vargax's fortunes seem to have improved. He is troubled by the guards far less often, despite remaining something of a public nuisance, and some even whisper that he is being hailed as a "Hero of the North". Quite how such a prestigious title could have been bestowed upon such a singularly undeserving individual remains a matter of considerable speculation among bards and gossips in the seedier taverns of Neverwinter. The prevailing hypotheses tend to involve murder, blackmail and significant amounts of coin.
Whatever the case, one must give credit where it is due. While he rarely employs it to any worthwhile end, Vargax is possessed of considerable martial prowess. Despite his tremendous bulk, he is as nimble as any dancer, and capable of remarkable stealth for a man so large. His fighting style is as unpleasant as his personality, consisting almost exclusively of dirty blows that would make any instructor weep with outrage. He acquired the nickname "Redhand" after a particularly brutal tavern brawl from which he emerged drenched to the elbows in another man's blood.
Noteworthy Quotes:
"A kick in the stones often serves as well as a fireball. Sometimes better."
"My cup is empty. Mayhap I'll fill it with your blood."
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jsmurfedMember, Neverwinter Beta Users, Neverwinter Hero Users, Neverwinter Knight of the Feywild UsersPosts: 39
edited May 2013
Name: Vierafae Vandree Title: Mistress Alias: The Dark Knife
Race: Drow Gender: Female Class: Trickster Rogue Age: 89 years Hairsyle & Color: Long white hair, usually tied back Eyes: Red Skin Tone: Dark Height: 5' 1" Weight: 105 lbs.
Birthplace/Homeland: Menzoberranzan Relatives: Niece to Troken'ther Vandree (former matron mother of House Vandree), cousin to Fiirnel'ther Vandree (current matron mother of House Vandree). Younger sister to Vasae de Vandree
Description:
Short, even by elven standards, she can sometimes be mistaken for a tall, skinny halfling if it weren't for the dark skin, white shock of lush hair and red eyes.
Despite her diminutive stature, she's surprisingly physical in nature, lithe and nimble, quick on her feet and almost as quick with her blades. Not one known for tact, she would rather stab her target in the front just as much as the back, although stabbing in the back usually turns out better as not as much blood is spilled on the fine clothing she wears. Usually black with purple trimming, and usually expensive.
Her love of sweet foods is just as great, if not greater than her fondness for fine attire. One of the few luxuries allowed to her with her rigorous upbringing was sweet foods. Usually offered as a reward for either successfully disposing of her targets, it wasn't long before she learnt that the quicker she completed her tasks, the quicker she got just "just desserts", this has seeded perhaps an unwanted trait amongst those of her profession, that being impatience...
Background:
Born of a scandalous liaison between a highborn noble and an unknown male footsoldier, Vierafae was looked down upon by almost the entirety of House Vandree since her birth. Taken from the House after it was revealed that she showed no talent for magic, either divine or arcane, she was raised by the Vandree assassins. Even though no one acknowledged her birthright, she was still nobleborn and female, and as such could not be openly mistreated. She was still shunned and given no special treatment, some of the more petty members even giving her harsher disciplines and more of the tedious, unwanted tasks out of disdain.
Eventually though she started to show promise with the blades. If not as stealthy as some of the other students, there weren't many her age who could best her with knife and dagger. It wasn't until after her first real assassination that the others began to treat her as one of them, slowly and over time, and that she met another of her blood relatives, her older sister, Vasae de Vandree.
The two grew rather close, unusually close for Drow at least anyway. Not allowed out of the compound unless it was for a mission, it was Vasae who told Vierafae of her noble heritage, and of the world beyond the House walls, and beyond the Underdark itself. If Vasae was back from one of her raiding parties, they would spend most of their time together, Vierafae hanging onto every word her older sister spoke to her, admiration growing stronger with each minute they spent together.
When Vierafae learnt of her sister's "banishment" for betraying House Vandree, she couldn't believe it at first. How could one of the most loyal subjects of the House betray them like that, betray HER like that? She shed no tears though, instead, she steeled herself and slipped out into the darkness without a whisper, the stories of Vasae's many travels and unusual landmarks guiding her to the surface world in search of her former sister. And she wanted blood...
Killing orcs is like washing a pig. Turn your back for a second and the filth is back...
The good thing about having three characters at max gives me a choice on how much butt I want to kick. For balls-to-the-wall murder, I go with the Great Weapon Fighter. The Wizard is the one that runs around laughing maniacally yelling "Catch me if you can", while the Guardian Fighter flips you off and is all like "Come at me, bro"
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coldsoul69Member, Neverwinter Beta Users, Neverwinter Hero UsersPosts: 0Arc User
edited May 2013
Name: Grimmjow (Jaegerjaquez) Title: Troll Slayer Alias(es): 6th Espada of Aizen's Arrancar Army
Race: Drow (Vasto Lorde) Gender: Male Class: Trickster Rogue Date of Birth/Age: July 31 / unknown Hairsyle & Color: Long / White Eyes: Gold Iris Skin Tone: Lighter than the average Drow Height: 6'1" Weight: 176 lbs.
Birthplace/Homeland: Hueco Mundo Relatives: Unknown
Description: Grimmjow is a tall, muscular man with light blue spiky hair and light blue eyes (can't do with the Drow race), the latter including green lines below them.
Grimmjow's attire consists of a white hakama, a black sash and a ragged white jacket with an upturned collar. The inner lining of his jacket is black, the sleeves are rolled up, and Grimmjow wears it open, leaving his muscular chest exposed. The remains of his Hollow mask consist of the right jawbone, and his Hollow hole is located on his abdomen. His tattoo number (6) is located on his back, near the right side of his Hollow hole. Grimmjow also sports a large scar across his torso, gained from his first battle with Ichigo Kurosaki.
Background/Biography: Before Grimmjow became an Arrancar, he was a panther-like Adjuchas-class Menos. At one point he came across a group of Adjuchas-class Menos that included Shawlong Koufang, Edrad Liones, Yylfordt Granz, Nakeem Grindina, and Di Roy Rinker. Di Roy decided to eat him, but before Di Roy could act, Grimmjow attacked him and ate a chunk of Di Roy's head. The group was impressed at his strength and they introduced themselves. Their leader Shawlong asked that Grimmjow join them, and the group bowed to him. Shawlong then explained that they have no intention of remaining Adjuchas or Gillians, vowing to become Vasto Lorde, but in order to do that they needed strength that they can use to pull themselves up. They had seen that strength in Grimmjow and Shawlong asked that Grimmjow lead them as their king.
Sometime later, Shawlong told Grimmjow that the group has given up. Yylfordt explained that they have given up in their quest to evolve into Vasto Lorde. They had eaten over one thousand Hollows and haven't felt their power increase anymore. As of that day, they had eaten three thousand so they know for certain to continue on would be pointless. Grimmjow told them that if they wanted to give up then it was fine, but he would have nothing to do with it. Shawlong then asked Grimmjow if he would eat them, and noted that since Grimmjow had already taken a piece of Di Roy, he would never evolve into a Vasto Lorde and that in conjunction their evolution would end where it was at as well. Grimmjow called them cowards, but Shawlong interrupted him and explained that they have become enlightened. It was not only to the fact that they would never become Vasto Lorde, but it was something they knew even before becoming Hollows. They knew that they would always only be Adjuchas and that Grimmjow would have been the only one to evolve beyond that stage.
Name: Dammon
Title: God of Bloodshed
Alias(es): Dammoni, Warlord Mushi-Oni, Lord Dammon
Race: Elf
Gender: Male
Class: Control Wizard
Date of Birth/Age: Unknown
Hairsyle & Color: Unknown
Eyes: Red
Skin Tone: Unknown-He was burned by a Dragon
Height: 6 ft
Weight: 211 lbs. Mostly muscle.
Birthplace/Homeland: Unknown/Amn
Relatives: Adopted by the Late Leon Cololr (Hero & Famous Monster Hunter)
Description: Dammon is 6ft in height. His body has burns all over it. His eyes are red but not because he is an elf. His Hair di grow back but nobody have seen it since he normally wears helmets, hats and hoods.
Background/Biography: He was raised to be a Monster Hunter. His Father was trained in some magic, but was really just a Guardian Fighter who was a God with the sword. Yet He turned out to be a Control Wizard. He loves to kill his targets in midst of battle.
Notes: For more info, please visit here (http://nw-forum.perfectworld.com/showthread.php?322482-Rumors-of-Dammoni-Mushi-Oni).
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mittensofdoomMember, NW M9 PlaytestPosts: 247Arc User
edited July 2013
Tieflings walk a fine line between light and dark. Ever striving to rid themselves of the evil taint in their blood some join the clergy in an attempt to purify their spirit. Avaliene D'aemor is one such Tiefling. She worked hard day and night under the guidance of the Clerics of Oghma, gaining enlightenment. She was strong, some would say too strong. Her downfall came in the shape of a strange book she found mysteriously left in her bedroom. The book contained amazing spells, however they were pure evil. She struggled against both her teachings and her tainted blood vainly. She eventually gave in to her darker self and devoured the words contained in the book and overnight was transformed from star pupil into something dark and twisted. Now she shrouds her evil nature in disguise of an Initiate of the Faith all the while slowly corrupting the Clergy of Oghma from within.
Name: Bors Title: Bors Red Hand Alias(es): Boris the Red
Race: Human Gender: Male Class: Guardian Fighter Date of Birth/Age: The 1st Moon of the 50th Year of the Founding of the Wolf Tribe Hairsyle & Color: Black straight hair. Eyes: Black Skin Tone: Brownish Red Height: 6'2" Weight: 240 lbs.
Birthplace/Homeland: The Red Forest Relatives: Adopted by Nagath Sunder, Mercenary of the Silver Hand. Relatives were killed or enslaved in a Many Arrows orc raid.
Description: Bors was born in the Red Forest to the Wolf Tribe. He was a blacksmiths son. He lived in a wooden longhouse in the woods. He is tall and muscular with dark hair and dark eyes. He has many fighting scars, including one across the bridge of his nose, and a deep scar on his right leg. He has reddish brown skin. His eyes are constantly watching for danger. He moves with a slight spring in his step. He is a bit taciturn and listens more than he speaks. He radiates a tension that can seem to uncoil at any moment.
Background/Biography: Bors grew up among the wolf tribe in the Red Forest. He had an affinity for dogs and animals early in life. When he was young, the Many Arrows orc tribe invaded his village killing many of his tribesmen. He was captured and taken into slavery. What saved him was affinity with wolves. The beastmaster recognized his affinity with wolves and kept him as a slave to tend the worgs. He was branded as a slave of the Many Arrows.
After a time an adventuring party came and dealt with the Many Arrows tribe, slaying and capturing many of them. He was spared because he was not an orc. His brand saved him. He was given a chance at freedom, but instead followed the adventurers. He managed to warn the adventurers of an ambush set by orcs. Nagath Sunder, the Guardian fighter took him under his wing. His sharp eyes and constant attention spotted things which other adventurers had missed. This helped them get back to camp safely.
At the camp, Nagath Sunder argued that a portion of their treasure should be used to give the boy a new start. They paid to have him taken by caravan to the city. On the way there, he befriended the guard dogs. The caravan was attacked by goblins, but Bors spotted them and managed to set the dogs on some of the goblins. On the way to the city, the caravan master offered him a position to handle the dogs and horses and learn the trade of a guardsman.
He quickly took to the position and gained favor with the guards when he prayed to Tempus whom both the orcs and the warriors in his fathers tribe prayed to. It helped create a common ground. He wears the symbol of Tempus.
Nagath Sunder after many adventures came back and found Bors on the same caravan which he had planned to send him to the city on working as a guard. He saw potential in the young man and asked him to come to join him with the Mercenaries of the Silver Hand where he could be trained as a proper warrior. There Bors learned to wear sword, armor, and shield.
After a time, he went and sought the Wolf tribe. He managed to find a few remnants, but the shaman saw him and knew fear, the shaman saw destructive power of the wolf in Bors that was awakened. He had a dream of Tempus guiding Bors hand to destroy the the tribes enemies, leading them to victory after victory ultimately leading to the end of the tribe and the formation of an army. This would end the tribe, but bring glory. The shaman spoke to the spirits and threw the bone runes and they told him to send Bors away to destroy monsters, Bors was a destroyer-- better that he be a destroyer of evil. The old shaman banished Bors and blessed him at the same time, blessing him with the rage of Tempus the war god so could fight monsters.
Bors fights with abandon, often seeing red. His symbol is a silver gauntlet surrounded by flame holding a broken chain. He has taken on the role of an adventurer seeking battle.
In Game Storyline:
Coronda, a cleric of Tempus saw a red nimbus around Bors and decided to follow him as a companion because she had a vision of him destroying the enemies of Neverwinter.
Bors has adventured to many dungeons. During this time he has collected various weapons and acquired a new companion, Rex Hex an armored wolf. He sometimes adventures with Rex Hex.
Race: Halfling Gender: Lady Class: Trickster Rogue Date of Birth/Age: (secret! c.f "Lady", above) Hairsyle & Color: Bright red bundled dreadlocks Eyes: Emerald green Skin Tone: Freckles on honey Height: TALL! (well... Halfling lass tall) Weight: *munch munch* Extra pounds, me?
Birthplace/Homeland: Neverwinter Relatives: Mommy and daddy
Description: Pangea is the most beautiful person you have ever laid eyes upon. Her blend of wisdom and... Excuse me? Okay, well then you say what you think I look like? *sigh* Can't a girl dream a bit?
Background/Biography: Well, I've always worked at daddy's leather goods shop (aprons and armor, shoes and hats, great quality for low prices!) but read many a book on traveling and adventures all stuff exciting. But when I finally skip out to go explore the world, the world comes to me: and a dracolich burns down the ship right in the harbor before we set sail. Bummer! I get an adventure, that's for sure, but in my boring home, not traipsing around the world! Ah, well... Notes: For the stories of Bob Bobbius, please visit here.
European timezone player (Paris, France) BLOOD Guild Pangea - lady Halfling Trickster Rogue - Dragon shard (started July 12, 2013)
Name: Mez
Title: The Unremarkable
Alias(es): Jester
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Class: Trickster Rogue
Date of Birth/Age: 1463 DR / 16 years
Hairsyle & Color: Very Short black hair
Eyes: Brown
Skin Tone: Medium Brown
Height: 6'
Weight: 185 lbs.
Birthplace/Homeland: Luskan
Relatives: Only child to a mother and father who died when Mez was too young to remember
Description: Mez is a pragmatic killer who would rather spare the innocent but would not regret dispatching a few if his mission required as much. He holds out faith in the loyalty of others despite his pessimistic view on the way of the world. He enjoys and feels at peace when performing acrobatics across rooftops or through forests.
Background/Biography: Mez's parents, who he was told died on an attack on the city by undead when he was very little, spent his earliest years pick pocketing visitors to the city with a group of local boys. A chance encounter with a member of the Taunch Adventuring Guild would have him training under their guise for most of his adolescence. Now of travelling age, Mez soon learns that life as an adventurer is not as glamorous has he was led to believe.
Notes: For the stories of Mez, visit www.jerseyimperator.com
Follow Mez and Rasia as they encounter friends and foes in a constantly shifting environment where allies could be foes and death awaits those who aren't prepared.
myles08807Member, NW M9 PlaytestPosts: 409Arc User
edited August 2013
Name: Myles from Nowhere Title: Priest of the Gates of the Moon Alias(es): Who needs an alias when one doesn't even know one's real name?
Race: Half-elf Gender: Male Class: Devoted Cleric Date of Birth/Age: 1450 DR / 29 years Hairsyle & Color: Thick, shaggy magohany brown Eyes: Green Irises Skin Tone: Light Height: 5' 8" Weight: 169 lbs.
Description: Myles prefers comfortable clothing to armor, and can be seen wearing his signature red and black all over the less-challenging adventure areas. His armor is decorated in the Liiran style.
Background/Biography: Cormyr, famed for political stability and law-abiding citizens, has a sewer of festering corruption and vice called Marsember. That's where I was born, of an unknown human father and an eladrin mother I barely remember. The Purple Dragons offered a way out of a life of petty crime, and my fondness for female attention soon blossomed in to a talent for interpreting Sune's will upon Faerun. If I introduce myself to you, it's probably because I just saved your life and am about to give you a little gift that will help you in the future... Notes: My Myles for Neverwinter is based on a bard I've been playing since 4.0 was published who is now 30th level and married, actually married, to the Prophet Rohini...
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tsutsujiMember, Neverwinter Knight of the Feywild UsersPosts: 0
edited August 2013
Name: Amaia Ogelsvie
Title: Protector of the Enclave
Race: Half-Elf
Gender: Femme
Class: Control Wizard
Date of Birth/Age: 30
Hairsyle & Color: Scarlet Red, braided to the sides
Eyes: Deep Blue-Green
Skin Tone: Ivory
Height: 5' 8"
Weight: closely guarded secret
Birthplace/Homeland: Travelled for most of her life. Before moving to Neverwinter permanently. She rarely speaks of a homeland, and instead seems to have had residencies nearly everywhere.
Relatives: Brigid Raine - GWF Cousin from Cormyr on Mom's side, they share their eye color, but that's about it.
Description: Sassy, sarcastic, and a bit deviant, Amaia is most assuredly good at being bad. Sharing in her mother's powerful elf-magic and her father's strong constitution, she is a powerhouse for a control wizard and focused all of her training on piercing, powerful, arcane magic. While her intentions are good, there is a black-mode in Amaia that can make one question whether or not she really enjoys killing the bad guys. She does enjoy it, and the badder the boss, the more excited she gets.
Background/Biography: Rumors in Moonstone Mask were that her parents were leaders of a guild whose powerful magic kept some of Neverwinter's most dangerous and unknown artifacts sealed within their secret vaults until about 10 years ago, when a mysterious group attacked and murdered her parents while she was away, stealing the contents of the vault. She decided to take up her parent's job and reclaim what artifacts she could find from the wrong hands, forming a network known as the Indigo 808, similar to the harpers but far more discreet. She keeps a home in Neverwinter, but she is searching for a map to her parent's secret base of operations, which she suspects is somewhere impossible to reach without magic.
Notes: Amaia was my first character and also the first that ever just 'developed' a backstory in my head. I have been wanting to make some foundry quests based on this story in my head and the Indigo 808. Whenever I play her, my brain turns into Lina Inverse. I don't know why, but this chick wants to be Lina Inverse SOOO sooo bad. lol
Date of Birth/Age: 151 years of age, though may appear to be more in her late 20s.
Hairsyle & Color: Long and straight, no specific style, silver with a lavender sheen.
Eyes: Ruby or Crimson Red, depending on lighting.
Skin Tone: Pitch Black
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 149 lbs
Birthplace/Homeland: Somewhere in the Northdark
Relatives: Unmarried; has two younger sisters, Natrelia and Morelia Sha'Xera. Mother is unnamed for a reason, father is unknown.
Description: Pitch black skin, eyes of ruby and hair of silver with a lavender sheen, Ilvaria is rather slim in comparison to other Drow. She can be cold and calculating, while other times she can be compassionate and talkative. Often, you will see her by herself, as she does have trust issues. They can be resolved, though, if she feels you are a trustworthy person.
Background/Biography: Ilvaria was the Elder Matron to the House Sha'Xera but was exiled about twenty years ago due to her practice of a religion other than Lolth's. She was dissatisfied with her position, so she wasn't losing much when she was exiled.
Notes: Ilvaria was created for the Pathfinder campaign "Knot of Thorns". Pathfinder is similar to 3.5, so transitioning from Pathfinder to 3.5 or vice versa is relatively easy and smooth. She was created as a cleric, archetyped as a Demonic Apostate, with a raven-turned-imp named Edgar Allen (I started this out by saying "Nevermore!" in the most raven-ish way I could). In Neverwinter, I have Ilvaria's last name as Nightstorm, and I do not have a picture of her, though artists are welcome to draw her! This may be edited at a later time.
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zebularMember, Neverwinter Moderator, NW M9 PlaytestPosts: 15,270Community Moderator
edited November 2013
Zek 'Elf-ear' Teldir
. . . . . Zek 'Elf-ear' Teldir is not your average half-orc. Born by a sun elven mother and a half-orc/human father, Zek has always felt an outcast among any of his kind, orcish, elven, and human. He has recently left his mother's homeland of the the Elven Court of Myth Drannor near the Dalelands and has taken up residence in Neverwinter.
Character Background Full Name:Zek Teldir In-Game Name:Zek 'Elf-ear' Teldir@zebular Title:Journeyman Leatherwoker Alias(es):"Zek" and "Elf-ear" Homeland:Myth Drannor and the Dragon Coast Current Residence:Nevewerwinter City Relatives:Nymtharina Teldir (mother, deceased) and Zorbek the Pale (father, unknown) Patron Diety:Tymora Class:Master Infiltrator (Trickster Rogue) Date of Birth:1452 DR
Character Biography . . . . . During an orcish raid upon the outlying settlements surrounding Myth Drannor, a Sun Elven maiden by the name of Nymtharina Teldir was captured and taken back to the orc's camp. During the first month of her imprisonment, she was tortured and forced to cook and feed the orcish raiders as they continued to pillage the elven settlements. Eventually, a new half-orc recruit joined the raider's ranks. The orc raiders called him Zorbek the Pale, as he was handsome by orc-standards, having human-like skin rather than orcish. As time went on, the only one in the camp to treat Nymtharina kindly was Zorbek and over time, the two formed a secret love affair. When she became pregnant, Zorbek knew his child, Nymtharina and most likely himself would be slain for such a coupling.
. . . . . Late one night, under a New Moon, Zorbek spirited away his beloved Nymtharina and returned her to home in Myth Drannor. Allowed to live for the returning of a prominent elven maiden, Zorbek was still banished from Myth Drannor because of his orcish blood. Grieving the separation of her half-orcish lover, Nymtharina secluded herself from social life while she kept her pregnancy a secret. Eventually, her Uncle the Patron of House Teldir found out about her pregancy and was lead to assume it was by an unknown elven suitor. Allowed to carry the child to term, she fell into discrace by her Uncle when she gave birth to a Half-Orc/Half-Sun Elven baby boy. The child was hidden away in the Teldir Tower for many years until he came of age along with his mother, who named him "Zek," short for his father's name.
. . . . . By that time, word had grown and rumors spread of the "half-orc" child of the Teldir House and late one night, a band of trouble-some young moon-elves snuck into the Tower with the intent to prove the rumors true but in their panic, they killed Nymtharina and severly wounded Zek. With the rumors found true, the Coronal of Myth Drannor pardoned Zek for his half-orc heritage for the wrongful death of his Mother and was allowed to enter into the social life of the Elven City. Regardless of the Coronal's pardonship, Zek was treated with mistrust and violence by many of the younger generations living within the City. This lead him to leave Myth Drannor in search of a new home.
. . . . . Along his journeys, he happened upon a half-orc encampment within the Dragon Coast and even though he was accepted into the fold of other half-orcs, he was still treated unkindly because of his elven heritage and apparent elven ears and golden hair, earning him the nickname of "Elf-ear." Tiring of constant persecution, he left the encampment not but a year later and traveled to Neverwinter where he wouldn't be seen as an outcast, even though he still is at times, just not by the blade of an axe or elven spell.
First time doing this kind of stuff, I only have the character creation information to go on and I hate formal writing.
Name: Erik Shamble Title: Child of Knowledge
Race: halfling Gender: Male Patron Diety: Oghma Class: Worldly Student (Devoted Cleric) Date of Birth/Age: Around 10 Hairsyle & Color: Short ginger boyish cut Eyes: brownish-blue. Skin Tone: Peaches-and-cream Height: 4' 8" Weight: 76 lbs.
Birthplace/Homeland: Cormanthor Relatives: The 'real' Erik Shamble (Possible father, likely deceased)
Description: Erik appears to be nothing more than an average freckled ginger boy with poor motor skills and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge; Who is easily bored when told about information he already knows.
Background/Biography:
Unknown to nearly all, there once stood a stone mansion deep inside Cormanthor with floors stained with blood and bodies; One of the bodies belonged to a halfling woman whose womb still housed a son. He was not brought into this world, but instead he forced his way into it.
The newborn grew despite being alone and knowing nothing. At age six he discovered the extremely vast library of books the departed owner left behind. He spent every waking hour intensive staring at these books, especially the ones with drawings, wondering what they were. Several months passed and every book laid in a pile and only three scrolls in a lit glass case at the back wall remained untouched.
He took the thickest book that didn't have pictures and smashed the glass case, cutting himself in the process. The middle scroll rolled out of the case, unraveled on the floor. The child saw the scroll, but nothing was written on it. Shocked and broken-hearted he quickly picked it up to flip it, smearing blood on it in the process; Letters began to glow on the parchment and for the first time they didn't look just like squiggles, but actual words which he could understand:
"Erik Shamble, you have not only sought knowledge for eighty-nine years, but also gave it to everyone you met; You are indeed worthy to join me in the House of Knowledge and I await for your arrival so you can spend an eternity learning. -The Lord of Knowledge, Oghma".
He didn't know who Erik Shamble was or even who Oghma was, but the House of Knowledge sounded like a paradise to him, "Erik Shamble" who knew nothing of this world.
This is an old history I wrote for NWN2. I revise it at times and it is always a work in progress. Though it is not made for Neverwinter, and I understand the name is not elven, and it is pre-spell plague era (when D&D was good), I hope you are able to enjoy it.
First Name: Avereon Last Name: Elestar Race: Sy-tel'quessir (wild elf) Age: 123 Height: 5'2" Weight: 125lbs Eyes: Almost Lime Green Hair: Dark Brown with Black Streaks Facial Hair Style: ...none! Languages: Common and Elven Weapon of Choice: Longbow Deity: Corellon Larethain
Appearance:
Avereon stands closer to 5 foot than 6, about average height for an elf. She has sharp oval, light green eyes, almost lime in color. Her hair is long, dark brown with streaks of black and with a fairly dark brown skin complection, all telling of her Sy heritage. With high cheek bones and a slim cut jaw line with a strong chin, it is hard to call her anything short of beautiful. She is thicker and seems to be more powerfully built than the typical elf, but that comes from the stouter bones and thicker skin of the Sy elf. She is still thin compaired to most Sy, less muscular but lean and athletic in appearance. She wears beads of dark shades of purple and blue through her hair, attached to her boots, gloves, and leggings as well as around her collar. For the most part they seem simple, hanging freely from her all aside from those on her collar and gloves which are woven into the leather in intricate design. On her upper back, just below the base of her neck, is a tattoo of highly intricate design. It has layers upon layers of runic marking woven together into a hauntingly beautiful and mysterious design. Durring the day the tattoo appears mundane, however at night it can be seen faintly glowing in a light blue hue.
Personality Profile: Avereon is generally easy going, yet mischevous and playful at times. If she finds your weakness, she will often push it but always being wary not to push you to far. She also has a darker side though, due to her history before her "rebirth" in Baldur's Gate, that she keeps well hiden. That side of her is slowly being wittled away by the company she keeps, but at times can be sparked again by her encounters with those who would cause harm to her loved ones or influence her in negative ways. She has a free will that makes her feel akin to Mielikki but her deep seated love for the elven race that extends as far as the high elves but abruptly ends at the drow keeps her following Corellon. Despite her love for her race, she often finds herself butting heads with high elves, who she often refers to as "haughty" elves, due to the fact that they often have a tendency to think of themselves as being better than the other races. She also believes that the high elves, if not kept in check, would return the elven race to a time before the Crown Wars to once again repeat the cycle. She despises orcs and is baffled by the humans quickness to trust members of the brutal race that has ravenged their people for as far back as history has been recorded. Avereon also has a fear of hieghts which is strange for an elf who was born and raised in the tree tops, or perhaps that is the very reason for her fear.
General Health:
She is in generally good health aside from an occassional cut or raw lower lip caused from her nerviously chewing on it. She is thin for a Sy, though not unhealthily so.
Initial Alignment:
Chaotic Neutral but with her close contact with Calinde as they both inspire each other to become better and put their past lives behind them, she is slowly shifting twards good. She still, however, keeps a mischievous streak and is short tempered when dealing with "Haughty" elves (high elves) and ill tempered when dealing with orcs or humans who would speak ill of her kin of whom she loves dearly.
Profession:
Avereon spent years of her life before coming to Baldur's Gate as an entertainer with a gypsy caravan. Her singing and dancing helped keep coin flowing for the gypsies and her minor skill with alchemy and healing magic were also useful any time someone became sick or injured, making her a part of their caravan as long as she desired.
Habits/Hobbies:
As with most Minstrels she enjoys telling stories, singing and dancing. She also has a habit of shifting around and chewing her lower lip when anxious. She has an appriciation for the craftmanship of bows and cherishes such artifacts as her beloved Snap Shot
Avereon was born and lived the first ninety-three years of her life with her clan in Neverwinter Wood in a tree-top village they called Shanta Mar. Her clan had been through hard times, for nearly five hundred years they had been without a shaman. Being without a shaman was to be lost and blind for her clan. At the age of ninety-one her powers first revealed themselves in the form of a minor healing cantrip as she lay over a friend who was fatally wounded in a hunting accident. When the clan learned of her ability to heal they were over joyed, believing she would become the new shaman. She knew her power did not come from nature but she could not bare to tell them the truth after seeing how it lifted their spirits. She was quickly pushed into training and her freedom stripped from her. She was not allowed to leave the village, all privacy was taken from her, her association with members of the clan was restricted, and she had even been "chosen" to marry the village elders oldest son Valandil Mithrand.
She believed Valandil to be a good man of good character, but she was a creature of free will and the choices being made for her and the restrictions placed on her were unsettling for the young elf. Still, she would endure it all for sake of clan. The hope it gave her people was worth the sacrifice, until it was finally to much. Every day of her training was one failure after another. She had no power to communicate with nature, she could not cast the most simplest of druidic spells and her rituals were an exercise in futility. Most believed her failures were due to the lack of guidance from a proper shaman to teach her the ways, though she believes some knew the truth, they, like her, didn't have the heart to share it. The only successes she had were in learning written language and common from the village elder. She was passed on the history of her clan and the history the Sy elf all the way back to the creation of the elven race. Despite her failures she was pushed through the training. It wasn't until her training was "complete" that she learned of a dark secret her clan had kept. Normally when anyone was caught poaching in their territory, that person was captured and questioned to see if they might be a possible threat. Once the interrogation was complete, if they were found to be no threat, the shaman perform a ritual to strip their memory of the event and release them somewhere far outside the clan's territory. However, without a shaman the practice had taken a dark turn. Those captured were slain, regardless of innocence or guilt. This had made their section of the forest notorious to the locals who now believed it was either haunted or plagued by demons. She did not blame her clan, they did what they thought they had to to protect their kin, but her role in this was more than the young girl's heart could handle. She would never be able to perform the ritual properly and the only alternative was death. She would blame herself for each failure. With a heavy heart she began trying to find a way to escape. She knew that once the ritual making her the head shaman of the clan was complete her restrictions would be lightened and her best chance for escape would be then. So she bid her time and waited, at one point she almost changed her mind until a young human was caught by her clan and she failed in the ritual. He was immediately slain and her heart was again laden with grief. Finally the time of her final ritual that would make her the clan's shaman came. She was given a tattoo on her back, just below her neck, that marked her as the high shaman forever more. The tattoo took days to complete and was extremely painful for her. Once all the ceremonies were complete, including her marriage to the elder's son, she found her opening and took it, feeing the village and abandoning her kin with nothing but a bow, a few arrows and a sack containing the basic supples she would need for survival. Due to her abandoning her clan, she sees herself as a coward even to this day. Once she broke free of Neverwinter Woods she began to realize just the fool she had been. She knew nothing of the world outside her forest. At random she picked a direction and began traveling north. After crossing through The Crags and crossing the Mirar River she found herself upon a road. Again picking a direction at random she began following it East finally arriving at the gates of Luskin, the City of Sails.
(Location: Luskin Age 93-102)
Upon walking through the gates, Avereon instantly despised Luskin. The noises of the city, it's unnatural feel, and it's smell all assaulted her sensibilities. Lucky for her, her hunts had been fruitful. After speaking with the gate guards, she learned of a local merchant who would buy the hides she had collected and a cheap inn where she could stay. Her niavete did not serve her well. She was given a meager amount for the pelts, but it was enough for three nights at the inn. However, after only the first night, a pick pocket stole what little coin she had. She soon found herself on the streets of Luskin with nothing. The next night she tried to rest in an ally, but before she could enter reverie, she was approached by three armed thugs. They told her to hand over all her coin. She explained she had no coin, but that did not dissuade her attackers. One of the men wielded a dagger, while the other two attacked with simple clubs. Her bow and arrows had been confiscated upon entering Luskin, leaving her with only a skinning knife to use as a makeshift weapon. She fought the men off best she could, but panic soon set in. She realized the men could easily over power her. The dagger wielding thug lunged toward Avereon. She held out her hands and cried out in desperation. To everyone's surprise, magic leapt from her, assaulting her assailant's mind. The thug stopped abruptly with a look in his eyes as though he were lost to the world. She quickly took queue and plunged the cruel knife deep into his abdomen, then twisted to ensure a fatal blow. The other two stood in horror as their friend dropped to the ground and took his final breaths. The two remaining thugs could see she was also confused by what happened. Their fear was soon replaced by outrage. Both men swung at her with clubs. She dodged the first nimbly but the second caught her off balance, striking her forehead. The world suddenly flashed whited. She felt herself plummiting to the ground. Steel rang against stone as her knife landed at her side. The thugs stood over her, their eyes filled with hatred. Avereon sat up, tears flowing freely from her eyes, blood trickling down her forehead. She held out her hands and begged them to stop. The men, expecting another spell, raised their clubs to strike. Avereon shut her eyes and curled up defencively. She waited for what seemed like an eternity till the silence was broken by the sound of wood against stone and two loud thumps. She opened her eyes to find her attackers on the ground before her, their throats slit. A man's voice call out to her, "Are you hurt?" he asked. She looked up to see the dark figure of a human, cloaked in black, with a blood coated kukri in his hand. She began composing herself and wiped the blood and tears from her face then shook her head no. The man offered his hand and lifted her to her feet. He introduced himself as Davmorn Carter and asked if she had a place to stay. Again, she shook her head no. He warned Avereon it would not be safe to stay on the steets and invited her to his house. "What other choice do I have?" she asked herself and accepted reluctantly. He offered her a bath, warm food, a pair of baggy men's clothes and the spare room for the night. She accepted them all, this time without hesitation as she began to trust him, a mistake she would soon live to regret. That night she entered reverie, her mind filled with the trauma she had endured and thoughts of her clan. The next morning she and the man spent hours talking. She explained her situation without revealing much information about her clan and she was thankful that he did not pry. The rest of the conversation mostly consisted of him explaining the city. By the end of the day, Davmorn made a proprosition; he would teach her how to survive in the city, train her to better defend herself, and let her stay with him if she would take care of his home and, once she was capable, work for him. The arrangement seemed too good to be true but she accepted. He stayed true to his word and she to her's. He spent the next several months teaching her how to avoid danger, how to barter with the local merchants, and the best ways to make coin. Then came the self defense lessons. The two would spar for hours, him always keeping one step ahead of her. Any time she would make an improvement, he would step up a level to match her but at no point did he allow her to even lay a touch against him. At times his methods seemed cruel, she had little talent for wielding blades and every time she left herself open for an attack he would strike her hard. Still, she endured it, believing he only meant to better her skill. He began teaching her to open simple locks and disable simple mechanical traps. Again, she had no talent for either. She could manage some of the locks but the mechanical traps were far to complex for her. Several months passes and the training became more intense. He began to loose patience with her failures and would hit her when she made mistakes. Eventually the hitting became beatings. She felt trapped and the more she began to learn about the man she had put her trust in, the more trapped she felt. Davmorn Carter was fairly well known to the underworld as an assassin for hire. He had contacts through out the city and kept himself well informed of all of the going ons inside of it. Now she believed he was training her as his apprentice. She saw little chance of escape without his knowing. Still, she plotted and began collecting resources. Then came the time he put her to work. She had been training with him for over three years and now he was finally ready to give her his first target, if she succeeded he would even pay her. She took the contract and executed it without fail. He seemed slightly impressed so the work began. Always the contracts were to kill some low life within the city: a guard who wanted more coin for looking the other way, a thug who killed or mugged the wrong person, a pirate who wouldn't pay his dues to the higher ups. Luskin has no shortage of trash that needed disposing of. She even enjoyed the work. Every time she killed, she knew she was getting rid of one more degenerate that walked the city and deserved no less and likely far worse. She began picturing her master's face instead of the faces of her targets. Years passed and the work was continuous. She saved coin and made more contacts trying to find ways to escape the city without her master knowing. She knew it was all futile though. If she left her master would catch wind of it and be quick on her heels. The only way to escape would be to kill her master first, and she didn't believe she could, he was just to good. Every time she planned a way to do it, she saw her demise. Davmorn seemed to have no weaknesses and left no openings. He would catch her and kill her, he probably even knew she was planning it. Avereon was sure she would never escape her master, until one day when she saw on choice. She was given a job. It seemed some noble had slept with a commoner woman and she had bore a son. The woman threatened the nobleman, saying she had proof the boy was his, probably a lie, but it was too great a risk for the noble to let go unanswered. The child would have rightes to his estate. He also had a wife and an honorable reputation on the line. So a contract was passed to Davmorn and then to Avereon. The job was to kill the woman and her child. As she read the contract, she stood in horror, unsure if she could fulfill it. To her, the woman would be no problem, she deserved her fate. She knew the risk she put herself and her child in. With a heavy heart, Avereon knew she had to obey her master, the innocent child would have to die. Unnoticed, she slipped into the house late that night and slit the woman's throat. When she approached the crib, the infant woke. As he looked up at her, Avereon's heart melted. There was no way she could bring herself to take this innocent life, it would **** her soul. She took the baby and any supplies she found. She rushed to the gates of the city and paid the guard to not notice her. This cost her most of the gold she had, after all, the guard knew who would come looking for her. She tore out the gates and hit the road following it northeast. Again, she was on the road with meager supplies, but this time with a baby in tow. She managed to ration supplies, giving all she could to the infant, but it wasn't enough for the child to survive long. She intended to cross through Mirabar, only stopping for supplies. She met a band of gypsies who were traveling north to Ten Towns in Icewindale for trade. They were in a hurry to get there before the freeze. It sounded like the perfect opportunity. Once the freeze began, her master would not be able to follow them. One of the gypsies had recently given birth and could possibly play the roll of wet nurse for the boy. She begged the gypsies to let her join them, offering her all the gold she had. It was hardly enough though. When Avereon was asked what talents she had, she told them she had could heal. She demonstrated her ability on one of the gypsies who had sprung his ankle. With that, the gypsies took her gold and allowed her to accompany them to Ten Towns.
(Location: Gypsy Caravan, Age: 102-123)
As the caravan traveled the road north to Icewindale, Avereon kept to herself. Several of the gypsies attempted to befriend her but after all she had been through she kept herself well guarded. The woman who had recently gave birth agreed to wet nurse the child but it was Avereon's responsibility to take care of him. Eventually she named him, giving him the elven name Ha-vain-lie meaning freedom spirit giver. She became attached the to Havainlie as they traveled to ten towns and even more during their stay. She was amazed watching how quickly he grew and learned. She was there for the boy's first steaps, his first word spoken, he called her mother. Her heart had been reopened and the gypsies kindness was slowly breaking down her barriers. As she sang to the child one night, her voice was overheard by the gypsies and residents. People began to gather around her tent that night and listened. Her voice was as warm and sweet as the spring breeze. Some began dropping copper and a few silver outside her tent. Avereon began singing to the people of Ten Towns regularly, making her and the gypsies enough coin that they begged her to stay with them once they departed after the melt. She agreed and when the ice melted and the roads dried enough for safe travel they set out heading back south, back towards the man who would rip her heart asunder. Avereon kept on her guard as they traveled the long road back to Mirabar, but, mercifully, when they left Mirabar the band traveled south. She felt safe, "Maybe he wont find me after all" she thought, so she let down her guard and began to enjoy the company of her gypsy friends and her son. She was wrong though, her master had not stopped his pursuit and Avereon had errored in letting her guard down, an error she would pay for dearly. One morning she awoke feeling something was off. She rolled over to wake Havainlie. As she touched his arm he felt wrong, stiff, cold. She rolled him over and her eyes opened wide with shock. She cried out at the top of her lungs. The child was dead, a dagger jabbed through his heart with a small blue ribbon attached, embroidered on it was a black mask, it was the calling card of her master. She pulled the child into her lap as the gypsies sprang from their tents and rushed to hers. She rocked him wailing as they burst though the opening. One by one they looked on with horror. Later that same day they buried the child and all mourned. There was not a dry eye among them, especially those of Avereon and Havainlie's wet nurse who held each other as they grieved together. They stayed there for several days, not wanting to leave the burial site. Finally the decision was made to depart and it took everything Avereon could muster to leave. As she began to pack up her things she lifted up the bed roll and under it, where she lay her head was a note. She picked it up and read "To love is to let death in". It was a lesson her master had drilled into during her training. An assassin can't love, it is a weakness. Her heart was broken, her master had killed him not only to complete a job, he never left a job unfinished, but also to destroy her and prove he was right all along. Over the next several years she traveled up and down the sword coast, from Ten Towns in Icewindale to Calimport in Calimshan, always avoiding Luskin. All the while Avereon waited for the day her master would come for her, she was even looking forward to it. The suffering she endured felt as though it would last forever. Mercifully it slowly became more and more dulled as time went on and eventually she felt it was time for her to move on as well and try to bury her past and start new. The gypsy caravan approached Baldur's Gate and she decided that it was here she would say her goodbyes and part with her old life. The gypsies were saddened to see her go, many of them had been children when she first joined and she had become like an aunt to most of them.
Goals:
Averoon is trying despritly to put her past life behind her and begin a new life in Baldur's Gate. That is her primary goal though she also hopes to share her Sy heritage, such as their unique art, music and dance with her elven kin who she believes have began straying from their roots due to their close contact with the humans. She also desires to become a master archer and learn new techneques of combining magic with archery.
Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to write about little old Allen. Started as a self insert, then when the hate for sue chars came up, I guess I got things differently for him.
Name: Allen Lex Hughes Title: Blademarch Apprentice Alias(es): None
Race: Human Gender: Male Class: Hunter Ranger Age: 23 Hairsyle & Color: Long, black Eyes: Brown Skin Tone: Tan Height: 1,84 m Weight: 88 kg
Birthplace/Homeland: Cormyr Relatives: Married to Marie Griffonhelm, father of Hanna Hughes
Description: Allen is normally kind, if a bit evasive. He doesn't trust others easily, but once he has gained confidence, he is a different man. He behaves as a noble, and often stands or acts as one.
Background/Biography: Allen was born in Cormyr, raised by a humble family who taught him how to survive in the forests. When he was 16, his house was burnt down during an orc raid, and his family was killed in the fire, to which he barely survived. After nursing himself with herbs and wandering Cormyr for a year, he was found by Hanna Blademarch, who took him in as her student and taught him the way of the Marksman. He took part in many missions for the Blademarch Family, building character and learning more and more about the life of the nobility. Eventually, he met Marie Griffonhelm and fell in love with her. After three years, they got married and had a daughter, who he named Hanna, honoring the memory of his now deceased teacher.
My grain of salt to keep this topic going.
Name: Jox Minoslav
Alias(es): None
Race: Half Elf
Gender: Male
Class: Trickster Rogue
Age: 28
Hairsyle & Color: Short, spiked red hair.
Eyes: bright green
Skin Tone: slighty tanned
Height: 1,84 m
Weight: 88 kg
Birthplace/Homeland: Unknown
Relatives: None that he knows.
Description: Jox is a lighthearted individual, pretty friendly and open to meet new people. He usually acts before thinking though and has a bit of a drinking problem.
Background/Biography: Jox doesn't have any memories of his parents or family, he only knows he is the son of an unknown human father and an elf mother, a necklace with some elven jewel is the only possession he has from them. Since he has memory, he was raised as a thief by a gang of crooks and pirates in the streets of Luskan, among other orphans.
Jox had a natural talent for stealing and lockpicking, but he was captured when breaking into the house of a powerful crime overlord called Minos, and forced to serve him as a slave as retribution.
After years he was finally be able to break free when the house was stormed by some Neverwinter adventurers to make Minos pay for his crimes.
After his escape he decided to travel around the World of Faerûn, searching for ancient ruins and treasures, and enjoying his time in taverns and other less reputable places.
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orangefireeMember, NW M9 PlaytestPosts: 1,148Arc User
edited November 2014
I have 30 or so. I'll post my main for now though.
Full Name: Vlathis Vilthear Nicknames: None
Level: 60 ((IC she's probably around 21-22)) Class: Control Wizard
Race: Human Gender :Female Current Age: 8 Hair: Blonde Skin: Pale Eyes: Blue Height: 3'8 Weight: Thin
Biographical Place of Residence: A large building a couple miles from Neverwinter known as "The Temple of the Planes". Place of Birth: Neverwinter
Relatives: Neilxva (Grandmother, deceased), Lealiena Vilthear (Cousin, although they only recently were reunited.) Enemies: The Arcane Council (Deceased, although their spirits were recently brought back by a cult of Orcus), Allies: The Mythweavers, Phaun Varkthos, Satella Voshk, Clarissa Wyntersong, Eve Ellemire (And all the other names she uses), Nathala Vrai'Xail, Lealiena Vilthear a couple golems, some summoned fire elementals.
Appearance: A little girl wearing the robes of a powerful wizard.
Fashion of Choice: Wizard Robes Armor of Choice: Wizard Robes Weapons of Choice : Orb. Special Abilities: While near the Arcane Spire, her source of power, she becomes far more powerful.
History/Biography: At the age of eight, Vlathis's village was attacked and destroyed by goblins. She was the only one who was still alive when an adventurer came in soon after to eliminate the goblins. She soon stumbled upon a wizard known as Traevou who took her as an apprentice.
Traevou was later killed during a mission that took him into the Demonweb itself. A wizard named Zyraen offered to finish her training, which she accepted. However, she later learned that Zyraen had lured Traevou into the Demonweb with the intention on killing him.
Vlathis stormed into Zyraen's chambers, and, having the element of surprise, managed to take him down. Not much is known about how her training finished so quickly after that, but some believe she found something in his chambers that led her to the Arcane Spire.
To find more details about her storyline, you can play my foundry campaign The Arcane Conflict: NWS-DG4CX25DT
Personality
Alignment: Chaotic Good. Motivations: To protect the weak, and keep herself entertained. Disposition: Friendly, excited. Outlook: Optimistic.
Religion/Philosophy: Selune
Misc. Quirks: Vlathis is much younger then most adventurers. (See age entry)
Interests
Likes: Saving Neverwinter, adventurers, having her efforts appreciated.
Dislikes: Being underestimated, Favorite Foods: Any Favorite Drinks: Juice Favorite Colors: Assumed to be red and white due to the color of her robes.
Hobbies: Adventuring
Neverwinter players are stubborn things....until you strip them down to bone. (Cursed players, my flowers, MINE!) Oh how I plotted their demise.
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orangefireeMember, NW M9 PlaytestPosts: 1,148Arc User
edited November 2014
Ok, let's bring in a few more alts.
Full Name: Virilena Laenlel Nicknames: Viri
Level: 60 Class: Warlock (Pact with a powerful Ice Elemental. OOC she is a control wizard.)
Race: Moon elf Gender : Female Current Age: 56 (Which, while not technically being an adult by elven standards, elves do mature at the same rate as humans) Hair: Blue Skin: Blue Eyes: Blue Height: Slightly shorter than average Weight: Light
Biographical
Place of Residence: Neverwinter Place of Birth: In the middle of nowhere with a group of moon elf nomads.
Relatives: Her parents. Possibly some others. Enemies: Believes every moon elf and most other people to be trying to track her down and kill her. In reality, none. Allies: A sylph named Aranaya whom she befriended during her travels, and currently considers to be her only friend.
Occupation: Avoiding being noticed. Tradeskill: Blending in. (As long as something doesn't happen that causes her to accidently freeze the wall.)
Appearance: A young moon elf.
Fashion of Choice: An uninteresting gray outfit with a hood to partially cover her face. She really doesn't like being noticed. Armor of Choice: Robes made out of ice Weapons of Choice: A shard of ice
Special Abilities: Frost powers due to her pact.
History/Biography:
Virilena was born into a nomatic group of moon elves, not at all a rare occurance. As a child, she liked to explore, often managing to wander off while everyone else was busy. One day, at the age of six, she managed to locate a cave. She quickly went in and started to explore it, and eventually came upon the place where a powerful ice elemental had been magically imprisoned.
Having no idea whatsoever about what she was doing, she broke the wards and set it free. Rather then killing her, it offered to make a pact with the young moon elf child. Not understanding exactly what she was doing, she agreed to lead the moon elf nomads into the far North in order to teach them to fear the power of ice.
The child warlock had managed to accept power that she could not control, although she managed to hide it for a while. She left the cave and made her way out to the worried moon elves. Between her various "adventures" and a few suggestions, she did manage to lead them into the north where they grew somewhat accustomed to the cold.
She continued to hide her power until sometime after her tenth birthday. A polar bear managed to stumble into the moon elf camp, and attacked one of the other elves. Scared and angry, Viri used her powers which she had not yet learned to control, which resulted in encasing both the bear and the elf in ice.
She fled before anyone could question her about her strange powers, wandering alone for many years, until finally she has arrived in Neverwinter. She still has not learned to control the powers granted by her pact, and so tries to avoid using them.
Personality
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Motivations: Survival, to master her powers that she has almost no control over currently Disposition: Timid
Religion/Philosophy: Worships Corellon. Is pacted to a powerful Ice Elemental
Positive Personality Traits: Attempts to be kind and friendly. Negative Personality Traits: Afraid of everyone except Aranaya. Misc. Quirks: Has almost no control over her powers, resulting in a tendency to accidently freeze things.
Affiliations
None currently
Neverwinter players are stubborn things....until you strip them down to bone. (Cursed players, my flowers, MINE!) Oh how I plotted their demise.
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orangefireeMember, NW M9 PlaytestPosts: 1,148Arc User
edited November 2014
And another one.
Full Name: Saelines Loysilias, but claims not to have a last name. Nicknames: Saeliness, Mindbreaker Saelines.
Level: 60 OOC. 13 IC. (Using 4th edition rules) Class: Great Weapon Fighter (Both IC and OOC)
Race: Human Gender : Female Current Age: 29 Hair: Orange. Skin: Pale Eyes: Blue Height: 5'11 Weight: Natural
Biographical
Place of Residence: Neverwinter Place of Birth: Neverwinter
Relatives: Prinaru Loysilias (Ex husband and evil psion), Chelana Loysilias (Daughter), parents (Deceased) Enemies: Prinaru Loysilias, all psions. Allies: A group of warriors dedicated to slaying psions and the Mythweavers.
Fashion of Choice: An elaborate dress. Armor of Choice: A mixture of scale and platemail created from adamantine coated with a mithral layer to protect again corrosion. Weapons of Choice: A greatsword created from an adamantine and steel alloy.
Special Abilities: Wears a powerful amulet that gives immunity to mind effecting spells and heavy resistance to magical fire. Can also be used to remove from someone all recent memories of Saelines, although it's power becomes drained and must slowly recharge after using this, making her temporarily vulnerable, so she does this extremely rarely.
History/Biography: Saelines was born shortly before the Cataclysm nearly destroyed Neverwinter. Her family survived, although she was left without many other people around during her early childhood. That said, her family had enough money to survive without too much trouble. As she grew older, Saelines began to admire the adventurers that were helping to protect the damaged city.
By the age of ten she had learned to ride a horse.
By the age of twelve she had begun to train with swords.
At the age of eighteen she left to begun defending the city. Shortly after she joined a party of adventurers which included the tiefling mage Prinaru Loysilias. They venturered into the Underdark soon after, where Prinaru was captured by a group of illithids. He was rescued with little damage, as far as anyone could tell. Saelines fell in love with him shortly after. They later became married, but it was not to last.
Not long after her twenty first birthday, her first and only child was born. Chelana. Due to her father's heritage, she was born with some defining tiefling features, however Prinaru's infernal heritage was very faint and Chelana's even less so. They agreed it would be better for her to remove the tail and horns in order that she might appear human. A few days later, Saelines discovered that her parents were dead. When she told Prinaru. he laughed and revealed that he was the one who had killed them. A long battle ensued, in which Prinaru nearly gained control of Saelines's mind. She survived, but he also escaped, never to be seen again until recently. Saelines later discovered that an illithid experiment had granted him psionic abilities.
Later, Chelana began to display psionic abilities as well, weak at first, but growing stronger as she got older. Saelines continued to reduce Chelana's contact with people, not trusting her psionic abilities at all.
No one has been known to see Chelana aside from Saelines over the past two years,
Personality
Alignment: Neutral Good Motivations: To protect Neverwinter, specifically her daughter Chelana.
Religion/Philosophy: Torm
Positive Personality Traits: Loyal, skilled at developing tactics Negative Personality Traits: Often too analytical, can seem rather serious at times around people she doesn't know well Misc. Quirks:
Favorite Foods: Any Favorite Drinks: Tea Favorite Colors: White
Hobbies: None
Neverwinter players are stubborn things....until you strip them down to bone. (Cursed players, my flowers, MINE!) Oh how I plotted their demise.
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orangefireeMember, NW M9 PlaytestPosts: 1,148Arc User
edited November 2014
And let's put her daughter Chelana Loysilias in too.
Full Name: Chelana Loysilias, although she believes not to have a last name at all Nicknames: "That weird voice in everyone's head", Chel
Level: 4 OOC, 2 IC. Class: Psion ((CW OOC.))
Race: Tiefling, although her infernal heritage is extremely small and her horns and tail were removed at birth, so she appears human without any magic to detect otherwise. Gender : Female Current Age: 8 Hair: Blonde. Skin: Pale, with a slight reddish tone to it. Eyes: A pale almost unnatural blue. Height: 2'8 Weight: Light
Biographical
Place of Residence: Neverwinter Place of Birth: Neverwinter
Affiliations
Relatives: Saelines Loysilias (Mother), Prinaru Loysilias (Father and evil psion. His relation to Chelana is unknown to her.) Enemies: Someone she has nicknamed "The Horned Man". Allies: Her mother Saelines Loysilias, another little girl named Nathala Nilsilus, a telepathic magical floating stone named Contagion.
Occupation: Looking cute. Tradeskill: Creeping people out by trying to have a conversation with them...in their head.
Appearance: A little girl. Fashion of Choice: An ornate dress following the same pattern as her mother's, but smaller obviously. Armor of Choice: Doesn't have any, since she never fights. Weapons of Choice: Doesn't have any for the same reason as above, although she can defend herself to some degree using her psionic abilities, but she hasn't developed them much yet.
Special Abilities: Psionics, mainly telepathic communication.
History/Biography: Chelana was born to Saelines Loysilias and Prinaru Loysilias. Shortly after her birth, Prinaru revealed himself to be evil and capable of psionic powers. Chelana was raised by her mother Saelines, and eventually began displaying psionic abilities as well. Saelines began to keep her separated from society in order to hide her abilities. She eventually met an equally strange child named Nathala who helped her escape the house, where she learned most people didn't really have any issues with her psionic abilities.
Personality
Alignment: Neutral good. Motivations: None.
Religion/Philosophy: Unknown
Misc. Quirks: Her psionic abilities are still rather weak, making her unable to form most names or long words. This often carries over to her physical speech, causing people to get strange nicknames from her in most cases. (IE: She refers to her mother as "The Sword Woman" due to her big sword, and refers to a certain tiefling as "The Horned Man".)
Interests
Likes: Flowers, puppies, kittens, telepathic communication. Dislikes: Fear, pain, lying, people with mental protections.
Favorite Foods: Cookies Favorite Drinks: Juice Favorite Colors: White, purple.
Hobbies: Whatever she feels like doing at the time.
Saves
Will: 10 Reflex: 5 Fortitude: 2
Neverwinter players are stubborn things....until you strip them down to bone. (Cursed players, my flowers, MINE!) Oh how I plotted their demise.
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orangefireeMember, NW M9 PlaytestPosts: 1,148Arc User
edited November 2014
And this guy is dead now IC, but I'll post him anyways. He's shown a little in part 8 of my campaign and will be back for more optional objectives in part 10 as well.
Full Name: Naulhiel Vrai'Xail Nicknames: The Elder Visionary, Naulhiel The All-Seeing
Level: 55 Class: Hunter Ranger ((IC, I honestly have no idea what he'd be considered. Probably some sort of monk or fighter.))
Race: Sun Elf Gender : Male Current Age: 327 Hair: Dark Black Skin: Pale Eyes: Bright Red Height: 5'10 Weight: Average
Biographical
Place of Residence: Neverwinter Place of Birth: Netheril Relatives: His 9 year old daughter Nathala, his wife Railthela who is currently desceased. Enemies: Any who stand in his way Allies: The New Order of the Eye Tyrant.
Occupation: Sometimes takes mercenary work in order to gather riches for his order. Tradeskill: Weaponsmithing
Appearance: His dark hair, red eyes, pale skin, and red tattoo make him look very creepy.
Fashion of Choice: White, red, and black robes. Armor of Choice: White, red, and black robes. Weapons of Choice: Dual swords
Special Abilities: In addition to his skills as warrior, Naulhiel can use some illusion spells, although he uses them rarely and they are not very powerful.
History/Biography: Naulhiel was born in the empire of Netheril. At a young age, they exiled him, forcing him to fend for himself. Very soon after, however, an elder beholder known as Schalifax found Naulhiel and forced him to do his bidding in return for food and shelter. When Schalifax discovered a cult dedicated to the worship of beholders, he took control of the cult and brought his "pet", Naurhiel, with him. Naurhiel quickly gained a high rank in the cult for his devotion to Schalifax. Eventually, when the cult was all but destroyed by a small band of adventurers, Naurhiel took control of what was left and now seeks to restore it to its former glory, through whatever means necessary. Unlike the previous leader, Naurhiel believes beholders can become accepted leaders in Neverwinter society and seeks to establish their dominance through more peaceful means if possible.
To most, he calls himself "The Elder Visionary", however, the few high ranking leaders that know his true name call him "Naulhiel the All-Seeing".
Personality
Alignment: Lawful Evil Motivations: Rebuilding to Order of the Eye Tyrant to its former glory. Disposition: Emotionless Outlook: Assured of his success
Religion/Philosophy: Worships beholders.
Positive Personality Traits: Calm Negative Personality Traits: Arrogant, does not care about individual lives so long as his goals succeed. Misc. Quirks: He never blinks. Ever. Combined with his lack of pupils he is extremely creepy because of this.
Interests
Likes: Beholders Dislikes: Anyone who believes themselves greater than his plans
Favorite Foods: Unknown Favorite Drinks: Unknown Favorite Colors: Red, white, and black. The colors of the Order of the Eye Tyrant.
Hobbies: None
Neverwinter players are stubborn things....until you strip them down to bone. (Cursed players, my flowers, MINE!) Oh how I plotted their demise.
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orangefireeMember, NW M9 PlaytestPosts: 1,148Arc User
edited November 2014
And one more, for Thaivalin this time.
Full Name: Thaivalin Lok'Draneer Nicknames: None known.
Level: 60 Class: Devoted Cleric
Race: Half Sun Elf/Half Wood Elf Gender : Male Current Age: 214 Hair: Reddish-orange with a slight green tint. Skin: Pale, and heavily damaged by frostbite. Eyes: His right eye is blue, and his left would have been the same color if not for a large cut in that area. Height: 6'1 Weight: Average
Biographical
Place of Residence: Caer Konig in Icewind Dale Place of Birth: Myth Drannor, although he claims, and for a long time believed, he was born in Icewind Dale.
Appearance: He would be handsome if his features were not so marred by frostbite.
Fashion of Choice: Scalemail Armor of Choice: Scalemail Weapons of Choice: Holy Symbol
Special Abilities: None
History/Biography:
Thaivalin was born to a Wood Elf priestess of Selune named Theltesa Lok'Draneer. and a Sun Elf wizard and nobleman of Myth Drannor named Trahliel Lok'Draneer. Two years after Thaivalin's birth, Theltesa decided possibility of her relationship with Trahliel being discovered was too much of a risk to his position and moved back to her homeland of Icewind Dale, taking Thaivalin with her. About ten years later, Theltesa was murdered, the cause of which was never found. Thaivalin continued her work as best as he good, quickly gaining a high rank in the Silverstars. His hotheaded nature prevented him from becoming a Moonstar, however. Many years, later, he discovered the true location of his birth, although he never told anyone except for, several years later, Satella.
Over two hundred years after his mother's death, he faced Neiressa Voshk, a believer of the Dark Moon Heresy who also believed she was destined to repair the Shadow Weave and use its full power to replace Shar. (And Selune as she believed) After killing Neiressa, Thaivon adopted her daughter, Satella, who attempts to follow in his footsteps as a priestess of Selune. It is quite rare, however, that he actually tells the full truth about what happened to Satella's family.
Personality
Alignment: Chaotic Good Motivations: To destroy evil, to protect Satella Disposition: Friendly Outlook: Neutral
Religion/Philosophy: Selune.
Positive Personality Traits: Friendly, righteous Negative Personality Traits: Hotheaded, often doesn't know when to stop. Misc. Quirks: As mentioned earlier, his skin is heavily damaged by frostbite.
Interests
Likes: Unknown Dislikes: Unknown
Favorite Foods: Unknown Favorite Drinks: Water Favorite Colors: Blue
Hobbies: Adventuring.
Neverwinter players are stubborn things....until you strip them down to bone. (Cursed players, my flowers, MINE!) Oh how I plotted their demise.
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orangefireeMember, NW M9 PlaytestPosts: 1,148Arc User
edited November 2014
And since Nathala was mentioned in a lot of the other bios I posted...
Full Name: Nathala Nilsilus (Formerly Nathala Vrai'Xail) Nicknames: Used to call herself the Elder Visionary after her parents died. She has now dropped that title though.
Level: 0 IC (Around 13 I think OOC) Class: Commoner
Race: Half elf Gender : Female Current Age: 9 Hair: Black Skin: Pale Eyes: Black Height: Around average for her age Weight: Light
Biographical
Place of Residence: Neverwinter Place of Birth: The Cult of the Eye Tyrant Citadel
Fashion of Choice: A white, red, and black dress. Armor of Choice: None Weapons of Choice: The Visionary Blade, a small magical dagger capable of replicating any beholder eye beam.
Special Abilities: None
History/Biography: Nathala was born to a cult known as the Cult of the Eye Tyrant. Not long after her ninth birthday, the cult was nearly wiped out by a group of adventurers. Her father took the rank of Elder Visionary, which made her a well respected member as well. Unluckily for her, the remaining cultists continued attempted their schemes and the cult was completely destroyed by a very young mage named Vlathis and an assassin pretending to be a noble named Eve Elemmire. Nathala's father Naulhiel managed to be freed from the control of the cult, and he started a new life with Nathala in Cherrywood. Eventually, it was discovered that Eve had simply capture, rather than killed, the remaining cultists, and her mother was released to live with Nathala and Naulhiel. Railthela, however, was actually a secret worshipper of Cyric and killed Naulhiel. The intervention of a druid known as Sierra Silverfox, and rogue named Iosifova Blouse, and a commoner named Karnarath Leiphone rescued Nathala and killed Naulhiel.
Nathala lived in an orphanage run by a woman named Jade Underhill for a while after that. Eventually, Nathala was adopted by a woman named Kaisele Nilsilus.
Personality
Alignment: Chaotic good Motivations: To have fun Disposition: Cheerful, although somewhat mischievous.
Religion/Philosophy: Worships Selune, but used to worship beholders.
Positive Personality Traits: Friendly, cheerful Negative Personality Traits: Always seems to show up at exactly the wrong time Misc. Quirks: A tattoo around one of her eyes given to her while she was part of the Cult of the Eye Tyrant to mark her status as daughter of the Elder Visionary.
Interests
Likes: Puppies, magical items that can be used to prank people Dislikes: Anyone who tries to force her to do (or not do) anything.
Favorite Foods: Cookies Favorite Drinks: Juice Favorite Colors: White, red, and black
Hobbies: None
Neverwinter players are stubborn things....until you strip them down to bone. (Cursed players, my flowers, MINE!) Oh how I plotted their demise.
Comments
Title: N/A
Alias(es): Angry Jerk, Urist
Race: Dwarf
Gender: Male
Class: Guardian Fighter
Date of Birth/Age: Old enough to be yer pappy
Hairsyle & Color: Dark brown hair
Eyes: Brown eyes
Skin Tone: Slightly tanned
Height: 4' 3"
Weight: 220 lbs.
Birthplace/Homeland: In a small dwarvish settlement where the mountains are high, the trees are green, and there is never want for food or family.
Relatives: Aldera Dragonsbane, old and loving mother. Orick Dragonsbane, proud father (deceased). Eriks Dragonsbane, brother.
Description: Urist is a portly dwarf covered in armor and angry scowls. Dirt covers his face and a few scars remain from past adventures.
Background/Biography: Born a dwarf of the dwarfiest stature, Urist was destined for greatness. Born and raised in happy village, all that would come to an end when he was sent to the river to fetch some fresh water. Unfortunately for him, the current was stronger than he expected and he was swept downriver and subsequently became lost. He wandered upstream where he came upon a caravan heading towards a human city. He joined the militia and vowed to one day take revenge on the water that separated his family from him. One day he would meet again with his dear old mother and finally claim vengeance against all water everywhere.
And he will have his vengeance, no matter who stands in his way.
Title: Lord of the Sith Brotherhood
Alias(es): The Shadowed One
Race: Orc
Gender: Male
Class: Trickster Rogue
Date of Birth/Age: 1455 DR / 33 years
Hairsyle & Color: Dreadlocks
Eyes: Morphing
Skin Tone: Grey/Green
Height: 6'
Weight: 170 lbs.
Birthplace/Homeland: Neverwinter
Relatives: The Sith Brotherhood. Family of shadows
Description: Darth Norris is as unreadable and deep as a bottomless well. His eyes are always changing, his gaze locked from focus to focus. Calm and collected, Norris stays in control of every emotion and never let's a situation get the best of him.
Background/Biography: Raised among the Sith brotherhood of Neverwinter; Chuck Norris received his Lord hood title of “Darth” at the age of 16 after successfully assassinating rebel gang leader, Juke Drywalker. A cunning master of the dark arts, thievery, and an unstoppable foe of shadowed combat; Lord Norris travels the world in search of adventure and riches, but most of all seeking challenges that push his fighting skills beyond that of any other mortal. Spoken of throughout the kingdoms as “The Shadowed One”, Lord Norris’ reputation is only preceded by the ancient blade in which he wields, “Nilosthar, The Black Blade”.
The dagger was forged when the world was still very young, by ancient and powerful magic. The darkness of a thousand nights lives within the blade, engulfing the surrounding light as a Black Hole in space while shrouding the wielder in complete darkness and shadow, rendering one invisible to un-aided eyes. An inscription in an ancient tongue is inscribed along the blades face, reading “The shadows are my brethren, and they walk with me always.”
“Fortune favors those that slay the bold and steal their gold.” – Darth Norris
Title: Mistress
Alias: The Dancer of Blood
Race: Drow
Gender: Female
Class: Control Wizard
Age: 149 years
Hairsyle & Color: Shoulder length tussled white hair
Eyes: Red
Skin Tone: Dark
Height: 5' 7"
Weight: 112 lbs.
Birthplace/Homeland: Menzoberranzan
Relatives: Niece to Troken'ther Vandree (former matron mother of House Vandree), cousin to Fiirnel'ther Vandree (current matron mother of House Vandree)
Description:
At first glance, nothing seems too out of place. Average height and average build for a Drow, it isn't until people notice that same Drow heritage that they begin to shun her. But despite this, she presses forward, her inquisitive nature of all things regarding the surface world making her capable of seeing past the petty discrimination.
Her name, Vasae, translates to The Dancer of Blood in the common tongue, a nickname that she both relishes and revels in. Her quirky, curious, sometimes outright cheerful personality takes mos by surprise, it isn't until people who have earned her scorn find out just why she revels in her name-sake, which is usually when they're on the receiving en of her deadly magic, or a dagger to the face for those times when the personal touch is needed.
She has been able to make a handful of friends since leaving Menzoberranzan, but due to her curiosity gaining the better of her, she has left most of them when she has decided to continue her travels.
Background:
Born and raised in Menzoberranzan as a noble in one of the lower noble houses, House Vandree, Vasae Vandree showed great aptitude for the arcane arts from a young age. Tutored in Sorcere until coming of age, she was assigned to the surface "trading" parties in fear that she would start a power struggle with her older cousin for the title of Matron Mother. As such, Vasae was very rarely present in the House, and had very little to do with the House politics.
After many years of "trading" with the surface, Vasae formed an unnatural infatuation with the world above the Underdark, and sought to uncover as many mysteries of the strange world as she could.
It wasn't until after a trade gone wrong that the ire of her older cousin caught up with her. Her admiration of the world above was perceived as softness during her last rai- trade, which led to the death of many Drow, including some promising young priestesses of Lolth.
It was then that Fiirnel'ther devised the plan that would not only see Vasae out from underfoot, but also benefit the house in turn. For all outward signs, Vasae appears to have been banished from the Underdark, but has been given the task of travelling to he surface world, she is to learn as much of the ways and customs of the surface dwellers as she could, and report back to House Vandree in secret each year with her findings.
It has been this path which led her to the beseiged Neverwinter, and given any other direction or ambition, Vasae will stay in the torn city, until it either bores her or she is called back home...
The good thing about having three characters at max gives me a choice on how much butt I want to kick. For balls-to-the-wall murder, I go with the Great Weapon Fighter. The Wizard is the one that runs around laughing maniacally yelling "Catch me if you can", while the Guardian Fighter flips you off and is all like "Come at me, bro"
Title(s): Redhand
Aliases: None
Race: Tiefling
Hair: Long, dark
Eyes: Sunken, red
Skin: Pallid
Height:: 6'6"
Weight: 240 lb
Age: See below
Class: Trickster Rogue
Birthplace/Relatives: Undisclosed
Description: Vargax could best be described as a towering brute, so muscular as to look bloated. Despite this, with his long, dark hair and exaggerated physique, Vargax might almost be attractive; if not for his face. Red eyes set deep in blackened sockets and a dark-lipped mouth bristling with jagged teeth conspire to render his visage monstrous. Taking a kind perverse pride in his appearance, Vargax typically wears fine clothes of black silk, cut to best emphasize his distended bulk and hideous features. Despite his unpleasant demeanor and coarse behaviour, Vargax is literate and demonstrates a vocabulary suggestive of some erudition.
Background/Biography: Vargax is a man without hidden depth, being precisely what his appearance suggests: a big, mean-spirited lout of questionable ancestry. With his terrifying appearance, physical prowess and base cunning; Vargax possesses all the necessary attributes to become a villain of some renown, but his lack of ambition, coupled with a measure of simple laziness, has left him as nothing more than a rather unaccomplished adventurer.
Vargax has never mentioned his age, and his features are so grotesque as to make it nigh impossible to guess. He may be in his youth, or well past middle age. As yet, no one has bothered to enquire.
When he is not brawling in the streets, Vargax can usually be found at the bottom of a bottle in whichever tavern looks the least reputable to his inebriated eye. He sets forth in search of adventure most grudgingly, and only when he has exhausted his supply of gold on drink and bribes to avoid imprisonment.
Of late, however, Vargax's fortunes seem to have improved. He is troubled by the guards far less often, despite remaining something of a public nuisance, and some even whisper that he is being hailed as a "Hero of the North". Quite how such a prestigious title could have been bestowed upon such a singularly undeserving individual remains a matter of considerable speculation among bards and gossips in the seedier taverns of Neverwinter. The prevailing hypotheses tend to involve murder, blackmail and significant amounts of coin.
Whatever the case, one must give credit where it is due. While he rarely employs it to any worthwhile end, Vargax is possessed of considerable martial prowess. Despite his tremendous bulk, he is as nimble as any dancer, and capable of remarkable stealth for a man so large. His fighting style is as unpleasant as his personality, consisting almost exclusively of dirty blows that would make any instructor weep with outrage. He acquired the nickname "Redhand" after a particularly brutal tavern brawl from which he emerged drenched to the elbows in another man's blood.
Noteworthy Quotes:
"A kick in the stones often serves as well as a fireball. Sometimes better."
"My cup is empty. Mayhap I'll fill it with your blood."
Title: Mistress
Alias: The Dark Knife
Race: Drow
Gender: Female
Class: Trickster Rogue
Age: 89 years
Hairsyle & Color: Long white hair, usually tied back
Eyes: Red
Skin Tone: Dark
Height: 5' 1"
Weight: 105 lbs.
Birthplace/Homeland: Menzoberranzan
Relatives: Niece to Troken'ther Vandree (former matron mother of House Vandree), cousin to Fiirnel'ther Vandree (current matron mother of House Vandree). Younger sister to Vasae de Vandree
Description:
Short, even by elven standards, she can sometimes be mistaken for a tall, skinny halfling if it weren't for the dark skin, white shock of lush hair and red eyes.
Despite her diminutive stature, she's surprisingly physical in nature, lithe and nimble, quick on her feet and almost as quick with her blades. Not one known for tact, she would rather stab her target in the front just as much as the back, although stabbing in the back usually turns out better as not as much blood is spilled on the fine clothing she wears. Usually black with purple trimming, and usually expensive.
Her love of sweet foods is just as great, if not greater than her fondness for fine attire. One of the few luxuries allowed to her with her rigorous upbringing was sweet foods. Usually offered as a reward for either successfully disposing of her targets, it wasn't long before she learnt that the quicker she completed her tasks, the quicker she got just "just desserts", this has seeded perhaps an unwanted trait amongst those of her profession, that being impatience...
Background:
Born of a scandalous liaison between a highborn noble and an unknown male footsoldier, Vierafae was looked down upon by almost the entirety of House Vandree since her birth. Taken from the House after it was revealed that she showed no talent for magic, either divine or arcane, she was raised by the Vandree assassins. Even though no one acknowledged her birthright, she was still nobleborn and female, and as such could not be openly mistreated. She was still shunned and given no special treatment, some of the more petty members even giving her harsher disciplines and more of the tedious, unwanted tasks out of disdain.
Eventually though she started to show promise with the blades. If not as stealthy as some of the other students, there weren't many her age who could best her with knife and dagger. It wasn't until after her first real assassination that the others began to treat her as one of them, slowly and over time, and that she met another of her blood relatives, her older sister, Vasae de Vandree.
The two grew rather close, unusually close for Drow at least anyway. Not allowed out of the compound unless it was for a mission, it was Vasae who told Vierafae of her noble heritage, and of the world beyond the House walls, and beyond the Underdark itself. If Vasae was back from one of her raiding parties, they would spend most of their time together, Vierafae hanging onto every word her older sister spoke to her, admiration growing stronger with each minute they spent together.
When Vierafae learnt of her sister's "banishment" for betraying House Vandree, she couldn't believe it at first. How could one of the most loyal subjects of the House betray them like that, betray HER like that? She shed no tears though, instead, she steeled herself and slipped out into the darkness without a whisper, the stories of Vasae's many travels and unusual landmarks guiding her to the surface world in search of her former sister. And she wanted blood...
The good thing about having three characters at max gives me a choice on how much butt I want to kick. For balls-to-the-wall murder, I go with the Great Weapon Fighter. The Wizard is the one that runs around laughing maniacally yelling "Catch me if you can", while the Guardian Fighter flips you off and is all like "Come at me, bro"
Title: Troll Slayer
Alias(es): 6th Espada of Aizen's Arrancar Army
Race: Drow (Vasto Lorde)
Gender: Male
Class: Trickster Rogue
Date of Birth/Age: July 31 / unknown
Hairsyle & Color: Long / White
Eyes: Gold Iris
Skin Tone: Lighter than the average Drow
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 176 lbs.
Birthplace/Homeland: Hueco Mundo
Relatives: Unknown
Description: Grimmjow is a tall, muscular man with light blue spiky hair and light blue eyes (can't do with the Drow race), the latter including green lines below them.
Grimmjow's attire consists of a white hakama, a black sash and a ragged white jacket with an upturned collar. The inner lining of his jacket is black, the sleeves are rolled up, and Grimmjow wears it open, leaving his muscular chest exposed. The remains of his Hollow mask consist of the right jawbone, and his Hollow hole is located on his abdomen. His tattoo number (6) is located on his back, near the right side of his Hollow hole. Grimmjow also sports a large scar across his torso, gained from his first battle with Ichigo Kurosaki.
Background/Biography: Before Grimmjow became an Arrancar, he was a panther-like Adjuchas-class Menos. At one point he came across a group of Adjuchas-class Menos that included Shawlong Koufang, Edrad Liones, Yylfordt Granz, Nakeem Grindina, and Di Roy Rinker. Di Roy decided to eat him, but before Di Roy could act, Grimmjow attacked him and ate a chunk of Di Roy's head. The group was impressed at his strength and they introduced themselves. Their leader Shawlong asked that Grimmjow join them, and the group bowed to him. Shawlong then explained that they have no intention of remaining Adjuchas or Gillians, vowing to become Vasto Lorde, but in order to do that they needed strength that they can use to pull themselves up. They had seen that strength in Grimmjow and Shawlong asked that Grimmjow lead them as their king.
Sometime later, Shawlong told Grimmjow that the group has given up. Yylfordt explained that they have given up in their quest to evolve into Vasto Lorde. They had eaten over one thousand Hollows and haven't felt their power increase anymore. As of that day, they had eaten three thousand so they know for certain to continue on would be pointless. Grimmjow told them that if they wanted to give up then it was fine, but he would have nothing to do with it. Shawlong then asked Grimmjow if he would eat them, and noted that since Grimmjow had already taken a piece of Di Roy, he would never evolve into a Vasto Lorde and that in conjunction their evolution would end where it was at as well. Grimmjow called them cowards, but Shawlong interrupted him and explained that they have become enlightened. It was not only to the fact that they would never become Vasto Lorde, but it was something they knew even before becoming Hollows. They knew that they would always only be Adjuchas and that Grimmjow would have been the only one to evolve beyond that stage.
Name: Dammon
Title: God of Bloodshed
Alias(es): Dammoni, Warlord Mushi-Oni, Lord Dammon
Race: Elf
Gender: Male
Class: Control Wizard
Date of Birth/Age: Unknown
Hairsyle & Color: Unknown
Eyes: Red
Skin Tone: Unknown-He was burned by a Dragon
Height: 6 ft
Weight: 211 lbs. Mostly muscle.
Birthplace/Homeland: Unknown/Amn
Relatives: Adopted by the Late Leon Cololr (Hero & Famous Monster Hunter)
Description: Dammon is 6ft in height. His body has burns all over it. His eyes are red but not because he is an elf. His Hair di grow back but nobody have seen it since he normally wears helmets, hats and hoods.
Background/Biography: He was raised to be a Monster Hunter. His Father was trained in some magic, but was really just a Guardian Fighter who was a God with the sword. Yet He turned out to be a Control Wizard. He loves to kill his targets in midst of battle.
Notes: For more info, please visit here (http://nw-forum.perfectworld.com/showthread.php?322482-Rumors-of-Dammoni-Mushi-Oni).
Thats mine, now show me yours!
Title: Bors Red Hand
Alias(es): Boris the Red
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Class: Guardian Fighter
Date of Birth/Age: The 1st Moon of the 50th Year of the Founding of the Wolf Tribe
Hairsyle & Color: Black straight hair.
Eyes: Black
Skin Tone: Brownish Red
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 240 lbs.
Birthplace/Homeland: The Red Forest
Relatives: Adopted by Nagath Sunder, Mercenary of the Silver Hand. Relatives were killed or enslaved in a Many Arrows orc raid.
Description: Bors was born in the Red Forest to the Wolf Tribe. He was a blacksmiths son. He lived in a wooden longhouse in the woods. He is tall and muscular with dark hair and dark eyes. He has many fighting scars, including one across the bridge of his nose, and a deep scar on his right leg. He has reddish brown skin. His eyes are constantly watching for danger. He moves with a slight spring in his step. He is a bit taciturn and listens more than he speaks. He radiates a tension that can seem to uncoil at any moment.
Background/Biography: Bors grew up among the wolf tribe in the Red Forest. He had an affinity for dogs and animals early in life. When he was young, the Many Arrows orc tribe invaded his village killing many of his tribesmen. He was captured and taken into slavery. What saved him was affinity with wolves. The beastmaster recognized his affinity with wolves and kept him as a slave to tend the worgs. He was branded as a slave of the Many Arrows.
After a time an adventuring party came and dealt with the Many Arrows tribe, slaying and capturing many of them. He was spared because he was not an orc. His brand saved him. He was given a chance at freedom, but instead followed the adventurers. He managed to warn the adventurers of an ambush set by orcs. Nagath Sunder, the Guardian fighter took him under his wing. His sharp eyes and constant attention spotted things which other adventurers had missed. This helped them get back to camp safely.
At the camp, Nagath Sunder argued that a portion of their treasure should be used to give the boy a new start. They paid to have him taken by caravan to the city. On the way there, he befriended the guard dogs. The caravan was attacked by goblins, but Bors spotted them and managed to set the dogs on some of the goblins. On the way to the city, the caravan master offered him a position to handle the dogs and horses and learn the trade of a guardsman.
He quickly took to the position and gained favor with the guards when he prayed to Tempus whom both the orcs and the warriors in his fathers tribe prayed to. It helped create a common ground. He wears the symbol of Tempus.
Nagath Sunder after many adventures came back and found Bors on the same caravan which he had planned to send him to the city on working as a guard. He saw potential in the young man and asked him to come to join him with the Mercenaries of the Silver Hand where he could be trained as a proper warrior. There Bors learned to wear sword, armor, and shield.
After a time, he went and sought the Wolf tribe. He managed to find a few remnants, but the shaman saw him and knew fear, the shaman saw destructive power of the wolf in Bors that was awakened. He had a dream of Tempus guiding Bors hand to destroy the the tribes enemies, leading them to victory after victory ultimately leading to the end of the tribe and the formation of an army. This would end the tribe, but bring glory. The shaman spoke to the spirits and threw the bone runes and they told him to send Bors away to destroy monsters, Bors was a destroyer-- better that he be a destroyer of evil. The old shaman banished Bors and blessed him at the same time, blessing him with the rage of Tempus the war god so could fight monsters.
Bors fights with abandon, often seeing red. His symbol is a silver gauntlet surrounded by flame holding a broken chain. He has taken on the role of an adventurer seeking battle.
In Game Storyline:
Coronda, a cleric of Tempus saw a red nimbus around Bors and decided to follow him as a companion because she had a vision of him destroying the enemies of Neverwinter.
Bors has adventured to many dungeons. During this time he has collected various weapons and acquired a new companion, Rex Hex an armored wolf. He sometimes adventures with Rex Hex.
Race: Halfling
Gender: Lady
Class: Trickster Rogue
Date of Birth/Age: (secret! c.f "Lady", above)
Hairsyle & Color: Bright red bundled dreadlocks
Eyes: Emerald green
Skin Tone: Freckles on honey
Height: TALL! (well... Halfling lass tall)
Weight: *munch munch* Extra pounds, me?
Birthplace/Homeland: Neverwinter
Relatives: Mommy and daddy
Description: Pangea is the most beautiful person you have ever laid eyes upon. Her blend of wisdom and... Excuse me? Okay, well then you say what you think I look like? *sigh* Can't a girl dream a bit?
Background/Biography: Well, I've always worked at daddy's leather goods shop (aprons and armor, shoes and hats, great quality for low prices!) but read many a book on traveling and adventures all stuff exciting. But when I finally skip out to go explore the world, the world comes to me: and a dracolich burns down the ship right in the harbor before we set sail. Bummer! I get an adventure, that's for sure, but in my boring home, not traipsing around the world! Ah, well...
Notes: For the stories of Bob Bobbius, please visit here.
BLOOD Guild
Pangea - lady Halfling Trickster Rogue - Dragon shard
(started July 12, 2013)
Title: The Unremarkable
Alias(es): Jester
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Class: Trickster Rogue
Date of Birth/Age: 1463 DR / 16 years
Hairsyle & Color: Very Short black hair
Eyes: Brown
Skin Tone: Medium Brown
Height: 6'
Weight: 185 lbs.
Birthplace/Homeland: Luskan
Relatives: Only child to a mother and father who died when Mez was too young to remember
Description: Mez is a pragmatic killer who would rather spare the innocent but would not regret dispatching a few if his mission required as much. He holds out faith in the loyalty of others despite his pessimistic view on the way of the world. He enjoys and feels at peace when performing acrobatics across rooftops or through forests.
Background/Biography: Mez's parents, who he was told died on an attack on the city by undead when he was very little, spent his earliest years pick pocketing visitors to the city with a group of local boys. A chance encounter with a member of the Taunch Adventuring Guild would have him training under their guise for most of his adolescence. Now of travelling age, Mez soon learns that life as an adventurer is not as glamorous has he was led to believe.
Notes: For the stories of Mez, visit www.jerseyimperator.com
http://www.jerseyimperator.com
Title: Priest of the Gates of the Moon
Alias(es): Who needs an alias when one doesn't even know one's real name?
Race: Half-elf
Gender: Male
Class: Devoted Cleric
Date of Birth/Age: 1450 DR / 29 years
Hairsyle & Color: Thick, shaggy magohany brown
Eyes: Green Irises
Skin Tone: Light
Height: 5' 8"
Weight: 169 lbs.
Birthplace/Homeland: Marsember, Cormyr
Relatives: ******* foundlings can't really say...
Description: Myles prefers comfortable clothing to armor, and can be seen wearing his signature red and black all over the less-challenging adventure areas. His armor is decorated in the Liiran style.
Background/Biography: Cormyr, famed for political stability and law-abiding citizens, has a sewer of festering corruption and vice called Marsember. That's where I was born, of an unknown human father and an eladrin mother I barely remember. The Purple Dragons offered a way out of a life of petty crime, and my fondness for female attention soon blossomed in to a talent for interpreting Sune's will upon Faerun. If I introduce myself to you, it's probably because I just saved your life and am about to give you a little gift that will help you in the future...
Notes: My Myles for Neverwinter is based on a bard I've been playing since 4.0 was published who is now 30th level and married, actually married, to the Prophet Rohini...
Title: Protector of the Enclave
Race: Half-Elf
Gender: Femme
Class: Control Wizard
Date of Birth/Age: 30
Hairsyle & Color: Scarlet Red, braided to the sides
Eyes: Deep Blue-Green
Skin Tone: Ivory
Height: 5' 8"
Weight: closely guarded secret
Birthplace/Homeland: Travelled for most of her life. Before moving to Neverwinter permanently. She rarely speaks of a homeland, and instead seems to have had residencies nearly everywhere.
Relatives: Brigid Raine - GWF Cousin from Cormyr on Mom's side, they share their eye color, but that's about it.
Description: Sassy, sarcastic, and a bit deviant, Amaia is most assuredly good at being bad. Sharing in her mother's powerful elf-magic and her father's strong constitution, she is a powerhouse for a control wizard and focused all of her training on piercing, powerful, arcane magic. While her intentions are good, there is a black-mode in Amaia that can make one question whether or not she really enjoys killing the bad guys. She does enjoy it, and the badder the boss, the more excited she gets.
Background/Biography: Rumors in Moonstone Mask were that her parents were leaders of a guild whose powerful magic kept some of Neverwinter's most dangerous and unknown artifacts sealed within their secret vaults until about 10 years ago, when a mysterious group attacked and murdered her parents while she was away, stealing the contents of the vault. She decided to take up her parent's job and reclaim what artifacts she could find from the wrong hands, forming a network known as the Indigo 808, similar to the harpers but far more discreet. She keeps a home in Neverwinter, but she is searching for a map to her parent's secret base of operations, which she suspects is somewhere impossible to reach without magic.
Notes: Amaia was my first character and also the first that ever just 'developed' a backstory in my head. I have been wanting to make some foundry quests based on this story in my head and the Indigo 808. Whenever I play her, my brain turns into Lina Inverse. I don't know why, but this chick wants to be Lina Inverse SOOO sooo bad. lol
Title: Former Elder Matron
Alias(es): N/A
Race: Drow
Gender: Female
Class: Trickster Rogue
Date of Birth/Age: 151 years of age, though may appear to be more in her late 20s.
Hairsyle & Color: Long and straight, no specific style, silver with a lavender sheen.
Eyes: Ruby or Crimson Red, depending on lighting.
Skin Tone: Pitch Black
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 149 lbs
Birthplace/Homeland: Somewhere in the Northdark
Relatives: Unmarried; has two younger sisters, Natrelia and Morelia Sha'Xera. Mother is unnamed for a reason, father is unknown.
Description: Pitch black skin, eyes of ruby and hair of silver with a lavender sheen, Ilvaria is rather slim in comparison to other Drow. She can be cold and calculating, while other times she can be compassionate and talkative. Often, you will see her by herself, as she does have trust issues. They can be resolved, though, if she feels you are a trustworthy person.
Background/Biography: Ilvaria was the Elder Matron to the House Sha'Xera but was exiled about twenty years ago due to her practice of a religion other than Lolth's. She was dissatisfied with her position, so she wasn't losing much when she was exiled.
Notes: Ilvaria was created for the Pathfinder campaign "Knot of Thorns". Pathfinder is similar to 3.5, so transitioning from Pathfinder to 3.5 or vice versa is relatively easy and smooth. She was created as a cleric, archetyped as a Demonic Apostate, with a raven-turned-imp named Edgar Allen (I started this out by saying "Nevermore!" in the most raven-ish way I could). In Neverwinter, I have Ilvaria's last name as Nightstorm, and I do not have a picture of her, though artists are welcome to draw her!
. . . . . Zek 'Elf-ear' Teldir is not your average half-orc. Born by a sun elven mother and a half-orc/human father, Zek has always felt an outcast among any of his kind, orcish, elven, and human. He has recently left his mother's homeland of the the Elven Court of Myth Drannor near the Dalelands and has taken up residence in Neverwinter.
Character Background
Full Name: Zek Teldir
In-Game Name: Zek 'Elf-ear' Teldir@zebular
Title: Journeyman Leatherwoker
Alias(es): "Zek" and "Elf-ear"
Homeland: Myth Drannor and the Dragon Coast
Current Residence: Nevewerwinter City
Relatives: Nymtharina Teldir (mother, deceased) and Zorbek the Pale (father, unknown)
Patron Diety: Tymora
Class: Master Infiltrator (Trickster Rogue)
Date of Birth: 1452 DR
Character Appearance
Race: Half-Elf (Sun) / Half-Orc (Human)
Gender: Male
Hair Style: Long, Straight
Hair Color: Golden Blonde
Eyes: Golden Irises
Skin Tone: Pale Peach
Height: 6' 4"
Weight: 210 lbs.
Body: Tall, Strong
Character Biography
. . . . . During an orcish raid upon the outlying settlements surrounding Myth Drannor, a Sun Elven maiden by the name of Nymtharina Teldir was captured and taken back to the orc's camp. During the first month of her imprisonment, she was tortured and forced to cook and feed the orcish raiders as they continued to pillage the elven settlements. Eventually, a new half-orc recruit joined the raider's ranks. The orc raiders called him Zorbek the Pale, as he was handsome by orc-standards, having human-like skin rather than orcish. As time went on, the only one in the camp to treat Nymtharina kindly was Zorbek and over time, the two formed a secret love affair. When she became pregnant, Zorbek knew his child, Nymtharina and most likely himself would be slain for such a coupling.
. . . . . Late one night, under a New Moon, Zorbek spirited away his beloved Nymtharina and returned her to home in Myth Drannor. Allowed to live for the returning of a prominent elven maiden, Zorbek was still banished from Myth Drannor because of his orcish blood. Grieving the separation of her half-orcish lover, Nymtharina secluded herself from social life while she kept her pregnancy a secret. Eventually, her Uncle the Patron of House Teldir found out about her pregancy and was lead to assume it was by an unknown elven suitor. Allowed to carry the child to term, she fell into discrace by her Uncle when she gave birth to a Half-Orc/Half-Sun Elven baby boy. The child was hidden away in the Teldir Tower for many years until he came of age along with his mother, who named him "Zek," short for his father's name.
. . . . . By that time, word had grown and rumors spread of the "half-orc" child of the Teldir House and late one night, a band of trouble-some young moon-elves snuck into the Tower with the intent to prove the rumors true but in their panic, they killed Nymtharina and severly wounded Zek. With the rumors found true, the Coronal of Myth Drannor pardoned Zek for his half-orc heritage for the wrongful death of his Mother and was allowed to enter into the social life of the Elven City. Regardless of the Coronal's pardonship, Zek was treated with mistrust and violence by many of the younger generations living within the City. This lead him to leave Myth Drannor in search of a new home.
. . . . . Along his journeys, he happened upon a half-orc encampment within the Dragon Coast and even though he was accepted into the fold of other half-orcs, he was still treated unkindly because of his elven heritage and apparent elven ears and golden hair, earning him the nickname of "Elf-ear." Tiring of constant persecution, he left the encampment not but a year later and traveled to Neverwinter where he wouldn't be seen as an outcast, even though he still is at times, just not by the blade of an axe or elven spell.
[ Support Center • Rules & Policies and Guidelines • ARC ToS • Guild Recruitment Guidelines | FR DM Since 1993 ]
Name: Erik Shamble
Title: Child of Knowledge
Race: halfling
Gender: Male
Patron Diety: Oghma
Class: Worldly Student (Devoted Cleric)
Date of Birth/Age: Around 10
Hairsyle & Color: Short ginger boyish cut
Eyes: brownish-blue.
Skin Tone: Peaches-and-cream
Height: 4' 8"
Weight: 76 lbs.
Birthplace/Homeland: Cormanthor
Relatives: The 'real' Erik Shamble (Possible father, likely deceased)
Description: Erik appears to be nothing more than an average freckled ginger boy with poor motor skills and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge; Who is easily bored when told about information he already knows.
Background/Biography:
Unknown to nearly all, there once stood a stone mansion deep inside Cormanthor with floors stained with blood and bodies; One of the bodies belonged to a halfling woman whose womb still housed a son. He was not brought into this world, but instead he forced his way into it.
The newborn grew despite being alone and knowing nothing. At age six he discovered the extremely vast library of books the departed owner left behind. He spent every waking hour intensive staring at these books, especially the ones with drawings, wondering what they were. Several months passed and every book laid in a pile and only three scrolls in a lit glass case at the back wall remained untouched.
He took the thickest book that didn't have pictures and smashed the glass case, cutting himself in the process. The middle scroll rolled out of the case, unraveled on the floor. The child saw the scroll, but nothing was written on it. Shocked and broken-hearted he quickly picked it up to flip it, smearing blood on it in the process; Letters began to glow on the parchment and for the first time they didn't look just like squiggles, but actual words which he could understand:
"Erik Shamble, you have not only sought knowledge for eighty-nine years, but also gave it to everyone you met; You are indeed worthy to join me in the House of Knowledge and I await for your arrival so you can spend an eternity learning. -The Lord of Knowledge, Oghma".
He didn't know who Erik Shamble was or even who Oghma was, but the House of Knowledge sounded like a paradise to him, "Erik Shamble" who knew nothing of this world.
First Name: Avereon
Last Name: Elestar
Race: Sy-tel'quessir (wild elf)
Age: 123
Height: 5'2"
Weight: 125lbs
Eyes: Almost Lime Green
Hair: Dark Brown with Black Streaks
Facial Hair Style: ...none!
Languages: Common and Elven
Weapon of Choice: Longbow
Deity: Corellon Larethain
Appearance:
Avereon stands closer to 5 foot than 6, about average height for an elf. She has sharp oval, light green eyes, almost lime in color. Her hair is long, dark brown with streaks of black and with a fairly dark brown skin complection, all telling of her Sy heritage. With high cheek bones and a slim cut jaw line with a strong chin, it is hard to call her anything short of beautiful. She is thicker and seems to be more powerfully built than the typical elf, but that comes from the stouter bones and thicker skin of the Sy elf. She is still thin compaired to most Sy, less muscular but lean and athletic in appearance. She wears beads of dark shades of purple and blue through her hair, attached to her boots, gloves, and leggings as well as around her collar. For the most part they seem simple, hanging freely from her all aside from those on her collar and gloves which are woven into the leather in intricate design. On her upper back, just below the base of her neck, is a tattoo of highly intricate design. It has layers upon layers of runic marking woven together into a hauntingly beautiful and mysterious design. Durring the day the tattoo appears mundane, however at night it can be seen faintly glowing in a light blue hue.
Personality Profile:
Avereon is generally easy going, yet mischevous and playful at times. If she finds your weakness, she will often push it but always being wary not to push you to far. She also has a darker side though, due to her history before her "rebirth" in Baldur's Gate, that she keeps well hiden. That side of her is slowly being wittled away by the company she keeps, but at times can be sparked again by her encounters with those who would cause harm to her loved ones or influence her in negative ways. She has a free will that makes her feel akin to Mielikki but her deep seated love for the elven race that extends as far as the high elves but abruptly ends at the drow keeps her following Corellon. Despite her love for her race, she often finds herself butting heads with high elves, who she often refers to as "haughty" elves, due to the fact that they often have a tendency to think of themselves as being better than the other races. She also believes that the high elves, if not kept in check, would return the elven race to a time before the Crown Wars to once again repeat the cycle. She despises orcs and is baffled by the humans quickness to trust members of the brutal race that has ravenged their people for as far back as history has been recorded. Avereon also has a fear of hieghts which is strange for an elf who was born and raised in the tree tops, or perhaps that is the very reason for her fear.
General Health:
She is in generally good health aside from an occassional cut or raw lower lip caused from her nerviously chewing on it. She is thin for a Sy, though not unhealthily so.
Initial Alignment:
Chaotic Neutral but with her close contact with Calinde as they both inspire each other to become better and put their past lives behind them, she is slowly shifting twards good. She still, however, keeps a mischievous streak and is short tempered when dealing with "Haughty" elves (high elves) and ill tempered when dealing with orcs or humans who would speak ill of her kin of whom she loves dearly.
Profession:
Avereon spent years of her life before coming to Baldur's Gate as an entertainer with a gypsy caravan. Her singing and dancing helped keep coin flowing for the gypsies and her minor skill with alchemy and healing magic were also useful any time someone became sick or injured, making her a part of their caravan as long as she desired.
Habits/Hobbies:
As with most Minstrels she enjoys telling stories, singing and dancing. She also has a habit of shifting around and chewing her lower lip when anxious. She has an appriciation for the craftmanship of bows and cherishes such artifacts as her beloved Snap Shot
(Location: Neverwinter Woods, Age 91-93)
Avereon was born and lived the first ninety-three years of her life with her clan in Neverwinter Wood in a tree-top village they called Shanta Mar. Her clan had been through hard times, for nearly five hundred years they had been without a shaman. Being without a shaman was to be lost and blind for her clan. At the age of ninety-one her powers first revealed themselves in the form of a minor healing cantrip as she lay over a friend who was fatally wounded in a hunting accident. When the clan learned of her ability to heal they were over joyed, believing she would become the new shaman. She knew her power did not come from nature but she could not bare to tell them the truth after seeing how it lifted their spirits. She was quickly pushed into training and her freedom stripped from her. She was not allowed to leave the village, all privacy was taken from her, her association with members of the clan was restricted, and she had even been "chosen" to marry the village elders oldest son Valandil Mithrand.
(Location: Luskin Age 93-102)
Upon walking through the gates, Avereon instantly despised Luskin. The noises of the city, it's unnatural feel, and it's smell all assaulted her sensibilities. Lucky for her, her hunts had been fruitful. After speaking with the gate guards, she learned of a local merchant who would buy the hides she had collected and a cheap inn where she could stay. Her niavete did not serve her well. She was given a meager amount for the pelts, but it was enough for three nights at the inn. However, after only the first night, a pick pocket stole what little coin she had. She soon found herself on the streets of Luskin with nothing. The next night she tried to rest in an ally, but before she could enter reverie, she was approached by three armed thugs. They told her to hand over all her coin. She explained she had no coin, but that did not dissuade her attackers. One of the men wielded a dagger, while the other two attacked with simple clubs. Her bow and arrows had been confiscated upon entering Luskin, leaving her with only a skinning knife to use as a makeshift weapon. She fought the men off best she could, but panic soon set in. She realized the men could easily over power her. The dagger wielding thug lunged toward Avereon. She held out her hands and cried out in desperation. To everyone's surprise, magic leapt from her, assaulting her assailant's mind. The thug stopped abruptly with a look in his eyes as though he were lost to the world. She quickly took queue and plunged the cruel knife deep into his abdomen, then twisted to ensure a fatal blow. The other two stood in horror as their friend dropped to the ground and took his final breaths. The two remaining thugs could see she was also confused by what happened. Their fear was soon replaced by outrage. Both men swung at her with clubs. She dodged the first nimbly but the second caught her off balance, striking her forehead. The world suddenly flashed whited. She felt herself plummiting to the ground. Steel rang against stone as her knife landed at her side. The thugs stood over her, their eyes filled with hatred. Avereon sat up, tears flowing freely from her eyes, blood trickling down her forehead. She held out her hands and begged them to stop. The men, expecting another spell, raised their clubs to strike. Avereon shut her eyes and curled up defencively. She waited for what seemed like an eternity till the silence was broken by the sound of wood against stone and two loud thumps. She opened her eyes to find her attackers on the ground before her, their throats slit. A man's voice call out to her, "Are you hurt?" he asked. She looked up to see the dark figure of a human, cloaked in black, with a blood coated kukri in his hand. She began composing herself and wiped the blood and tears from her face then shook her head no. The man offered his hand and lifted her to her feet. He introduced himself as Davmorn Carter and asked if she had a place to stay. Again, she shook her head no. He warned Avereon it would not be safe to stay on the steets and invited her to his house. "What other choice do I have?" she asked herself and accepted reluctantly. He offered her a bath, warm food, a pair of baggy men's clothes and the spare room for the night. She accepted them all, this time without hesitation as she began to trust him, a mistake she would soon live to regret. That night she entered reverie, her mind filled with the trauma she had endured and thoughts of her clan. The next morning she and the man spent hours talking. She explained her situation without revealing much information about her clan and she was thankful that he did not pry. The rest of the conversation mostly consisted of him explaining the city. By the end of the day, Davmorn made a proprosition; he would teach her how to survive in the city, train her to better defend herself, and let her stay with him if she would take care of his home and, once she was capable, work for him. The arrangement seemed too good to be true but she accepted. He stayed true to his word and she to her's. He spent the next several months teaching her how to avoid danger, how to barter with the local merchants, and the best ways to make coin. Then came the self defense lessons. The two would spar for hours, him always keeping one step ahead of her. Any time she would make an improvement, he would step up a level to match her but at no point did he allow her to even lay a touch against him. At times his methods seemed cruel, she had little talent for wielding blades and every time she left herself open for an attack he would strike her hard. Still, she endured it, believing he only meant to better her skill. He began teaching her to open simple locks and disable simple mechanical traps. Again, she had no talent for either. She could manage some of the locks but the mechanical traps were far to complex for her. Several months passes and the training became more intense. He began to loose patience with her failures and would hit her when she made mistakes. Eventually the hitting became beatings. She felt trapped and the more she began to learn about the man she had put her trust in, the more trapped she felt. Davmorn Carter was fairly well known to the underworld as an assassin for hire. He had contacts through out the city and kept himself well informed of all of the going ons inside of it. Now she believed he was training her as his apprentice. She saw little chance of escape without his knowing. Still, she plotted and began collecting resources. Then came the time he put her to work. She had been training with him for over three years and now he was finally ready to give her his first target, if she succeeded he would even pay her. She took the contract and executed it without fail. He seemed slightly impressed so the work began. Always the contracts were to kill some low life within the city: a guard who wanted more coin for looking the other way, a thug who killed or mugged the wrong person, a pirate who wouldn't pay his dues to the higher ups. Luskin has no shortage of trash that needed disposing of. She even enjoyed the work. Every time she killed, she knew she was getting rid of one more degenerate that walked the city and deserved no less and likely far worse. She began picturing her master's face instead of the faces of her targets. Years passed and the work was continuous. She saved coin and made more contacts trying to find ways to escape the city without her master knowing. She knew it was all futile though. If she left her master would catch wind of it and be quick on her heels. The only way to escape would be to kill her master first, and she didn't believe she could, he was just to good. Every time she planned a way to do it, she saw her demise. Davmorn seemed to have no weaknesses and left no openings. He would catch her and kill her, he probably even knew she was planning it. Avereon was sure she would never escape her master, until one day when she saw on choice. She was given a job. It seemed some noble had slept with a commoner woman and she had bore a son. The woman threatened the nobleman, saying she had proof the boy was his, probably a lie, but it was too great a risk for the noble to let go unanswered. The child would have rightes to his estate. He also had a wife and an honorable reputation on the line. So a contract was passed to Davmorn and then to Avereon. The job was to kill the woman and her child. As she read the contract, she stood in horror, unsure if she could fulfill it. To her, the woman would be no problem, she deserved her fate. She knew the risk she put herself and her child in. With a heavy heart, Avereon knew she had to obey her master, the innocent child would have to die. Unnoticed, she slipped into the house late that night and slit the woman's throat. When she approached the crib, the infant woke. As he looked up at her, Avereon's heart melted. There was no way she could bring herself to take this innocent life, it would **** her soul. She took the baby and any supplies she found. She rushed to the gates of the city and paid the guard to not notice her. This cost her most of the gold she had, after all, the guard knew who would come looking for her. She tore out the gates and hit the road following it northeast. Again, she was on the road with meager supplies, but this time with a baby in tow. She managed to ration supplies, giving all she could to the infant, but it wasn't enough for the child to survive long. She intended to cross through Mirabar, only stopping for supplies. She met a band of gypsies who were traveling north to Ten Towns in Icewindale for trade. They were in a hurry to get there before the freeze. It sounded like the perfect opportunity. Once the freeze began, her master would not be able to follow them. One of the gypsies had recently given birth and could possibly play the roll of wet nurse for the boy. She begged the gypsies to let her join them, offering her all the gold she had. It was hardly enough though. When Avereon was asked what talents she had, she told them she had could heal. She demonstrated her ability on one of the gypsies who had sprung his ankle. With that, the gypsies took her gold and allowed her to accompany them to Ten Towns.
(Location: Gypsy Caravan, Age: 102-123)
As the caravan traveled the road north to Icewindale, Avereon kept to herself. Several of the gypsies attempted to befriend her but after all she had been through she kept herself well guarded. The woman who had recently gave birth agreed to wet nurse the child but it was Avereon's responsibility to take care of him. Eventually she named him, giving him the elven name Ha-vain-lie meaning freedom spirit giver. She became attached the to Havainlie as they traveled to ten towns and even more during their stay. She was amazed watching how quickly he grew and learned. She was there for the boy's first steaps, his first word spoken, he called her mother. Her heart had been reopened and the gypsies kindness was slowly breaking down her barriers. As she sang to the child one night, her voice was overheard by the gypsies and residents. People began to gather around her tent that night and listened. Her voice was as warm and sweet as the spring breeze. Some began dropping copper and a few silver outside her tent. Avereon began singing to the people of Ten Towns regularly, making her and the gypsies enough coin that they begged her to stay with them once they departed after the melt. She agreed and when the ice melted and the roads dried enough for safe travel they set out heading back south, back towards the man who would rip her heart asunder. Avereon kept on her guard as they traveled the long road back to Mirabar, but, mercifully, when they left Mirabar the band traveled south. She felt safe, "Maybe he wont find me after all" she thought, so she let down her guard and began to enjoy the company of her gypsy friends and her son. She was wrong though, her master had not stopped his pursuit and Avereon had errored in letting her guard down, an error she would pay for dearly. One morning she awoke feeling something was off. She rolled over to wake Havainlie. As she touched his arm he felt wrong, stiff, cold. She rolled him over and her eyes opened wide with shock. She cried out at the top of her lungs. The child was dead, a dagger jabbed through his heart with a small blue ribbon attached, embroidered on it was a black mask, it was the calling card of her master. She pulled the child into her lap as the gypsies sprang from their tents and rushed to hers. She rocked him wailing as they burst though the opening. One by one they looked on with horror. Later that same day they buried the child and all mourned. There was not a dry eye among them, especially those of Avereon and Havainlie's wet nurse who held each other as they grieved together. They stayed there for several days, not wanting to leave the burial site. Finally the decision was made to depart and it took everything Avereon could muster to leave. As she began to pack up her things she lifted up the bed roll and under it, where she lay her head was a note. She picked it up and read "To love is to let death in". It was a lesson her master had drilled into during her training. An assassin can't love, it is a weakness. Her heart was broken, her master had killed him not only to complete a job, he never left a job unfinished, but also to destroy her and prove he was right all along. Over the next several years she traveled up and down the sword coast, from Ten Towns in Icewindale to Calimport in Calimshan, always avoiding Luskin. All the while Avereon waited for the day her master would come for her, she was even looking forward to it. The suffering she endured felt as though it would last forever. Mercifully it slowly became more and more dulled as time went on and eventually she felt it was time for her to move on as well and try to bury her past and start new. The gypsy caravan approached Baldur's Gate and she decided that it was here she would say her goodbyes and part with her old life. The gypsies were saddened to see her go, many of them had been children when she first joined and she had become like an aunt to most of them.
Goals:
Averoon is trying despritly to put her past life behind her and begin a new life in Baldur's Gate. That is her primary goal though she also hopes to share her Sy heritage, such as their unique art, music and dance with her elven kin who she believes have began straying from their roots due to their close contact with the humans. She also desires to become a master archer and learn new techneques of combining magic with archery.
Name: Allen Lex Hughes
Title: Blademarch Apprentice
Alias(es): None
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Class: Hunter Ranger
Age: 23
Hairsyle & Color: Long, black
Eyes: Brown
Skin Tone: Tan
Height: 1,84 m
Weight: 88 kg
Birthplace/Homeland: Cormyr
Relatives: Married to Marie Griffonhelm, father of Hanna Hughes
Description: Allen is normally kind, if a bit evasive. He doesn't trust others easily, but once he has gained confidence, he is a different man. He behaves as a noble, and often stands or acts as one.
Background/Biography: Allen was born in Cormyr, raised by a humble family who taught him how to survive in the forests. When he was 16, his house was burnt down during an orc raid, and his family was killed in the fire, to which he barely survived. After nursing himself with herbs and wandering Cormyr for a year, he was found by Hanna Blademarch, who took him in as her student and taught him the way of the Marksman. He took part in many missions for the Blademarch Family, building character and learning more and more about the life of the nobility. Eventually, he met Marie Griffonhelm and fell in love with her. After three years, they got married and had a daughter, who he named Hanna, honoring the memory of his now deceased teacher.
Name: Jox Minoslav
Alias(es): None
Race: Half Elf
Gender: Male
Class: Trickster Rogue
Age: 28
Hairsyle & Color: Short, spiked red hair.
Eyes: bright green
Skin Tone: slighty tanned
Height: 1,84 m
Weight: 88 kg
Birthplace/Homeland: Unknown
Relatives: None that he knows.
Description: Jox is a lighthearted individual, pretty friendly and open to meet new people. He usually acts before thinking though and has a bit of a drinking problem.
Background/Biography: Jox doesn't have any memories of his parents or family, he only knows he is the son of an unknown human father and an elf mother, a necklace with some elven jewel is the only possession he has from them. Since he has memory, he was raised as a thief by a gang of crooks and pirates in the streets of Luskan, among other orphans.
Jox had a natural talent for stealing and lockpicking, but he was captured when breaking into the house of a powerful crime overlord called Minos, and forced to serve him as a slave as retribution.
After years he was finally be able to break free when the house was stormed by some Neverwinter adventurers to make Minos pay for his crimes.
After his escape he decided to travel around the World of Faerûn, searching for ancient ruins and treasures, and enjoying his time in taverns and other less reputable places.
Full Name: Vlathis Vilthear
Nicknames: None
Level: 60 ((IC she's probably around 21-22))
Class: Control Wizard
Race: Human
Gender :Female
Current Age: 8
Hair: Blonde
Skin: Pale
Eyes: Blue
Height: 3'8
Weight: Thin
Biographical
Place of Residence: A large building a couple miles from Neverwinter known as "The Temple of the Planes".
Place of Birth: Neverwinter
Relatives: Neilxva (Grandmother, deceased), Lealiena Vilthear (Cousin, although they only recently were reunited.)
Enemies: The Arcane Council (Deceased, although their spirits were recently brought back by a cult of Orcus),
Allies: The Mythweavers, Phaun Varkthos, Satella Voshk, Clarissa Wyntersong, Eve Ellemire (And all the other names she uses), Nathala Vrai'Xail, Lealiena Vilthear a couple golems, some summoned fire elementals.
Occupation: Adventuring
Tradeskill: Alchemy (OOC: Leadership)
Appearance: A little girl wearing the robes of a powerful wizard.
Fashion of Choice: Wizard Robes
Armor of Choice: Wizard Robes
Weapons of Choice : Orb.
Special Abilities: While near the Arcane Spire, her source of power, she becomes far more powerful.
History/Biography: At the age of eight, Vlathis's village was attacked and destroyed by goblins. She was the only one who was still alive when an adventurer came in soon after to eliminate the goblins. She soon stumbled upon a wizard known as Traevou who took her as an apprentice.
Traevou was later killed during a mission that took him into the Demonweb itself. A wizard named Zyraen offered to finish her training, which she accepted. However, she later learned that Zyraen had lured Traevou into the Demonweb with the intention on killing him.
Vlathis stormed into Zyraen's chambers, and, having the element of surprise, managed to take him down. Not much is known about how her training finished so quickly after that, but some believe she found something in his chambers that led her to the Arcane Spire.
To find more details about her storyline, you can play my foundry campaign The Arcane Conflict: NWS-DG4CX25DT
Personality
Alignment: Chaotic Good.
Motivations: To protect the weak, and keep herself entertained.
Disposition: Friendly, excited.
Outlook: Optimistic.
Religion/Philosophy: Selune
Misc. Quirks: Vlathis is much younger then most adventurers. (See age entry)
Interests
Likes: Saving Neverwinter, adventurers, having her efforts appreciated.
Dislikes: Being underestimated,
Favorite Foods: Any
Favorite Drinks: Juice
Favorite Colors: Assumed to be red and white due to the color of her robes.
Hobbies: Adventuring
Full Name: Virilena Laenlel
Nicknames: Viri
Level: 60
Class: Warlock (Pact with a powerful Ice Elemental. OOC she is a control wizard.)
Race: Moon elf
Gender : Female
Current Age: 56 (Which, while not technically being an adult by elven standards, elves do mature at the same rate as humans)
Hair: Blue
Skin: Blue
Eyes: Blue
Height: Slightly shorter than average
Weight: Light
Biographical
Place of Residence: Neverwinter
Place of Birth: In the middle of nowhere with a group of moon elf nomads.
Relatives: Her parents. Possibly some others.
Enemies: Believes every moon elf and most other people to be trying to track her down and kill her. In reality, none.
Allies: A sylph named Aranaya whom she befriended during her travels, and currently considers to be her only friend.
Occupation: Avoiding being noticed.
Tradeskill: Blending in. (As long as something doesn't happen that causes her to accidently freeze the wall.)
Appearance: A young moon elf.
Fashion of Choice: An uninteresting gray outfit with a hood to partially cover her face. She really doesn't like being noticed.
Armor of Choice: Robes made out of ice
Weapons of Choice: A shard of ice
Special Abilities: Frost powers due to her pact.
History/Biography:
Virilena was born into a nomatic group of moon elves, not at all a rare occurance. As a child, she liked to explore, often managing to wander off while everyone else was busy. One day, at the age of six, she managed to locate a cave. She quickly went in and started to explore it, and eventually came upon the place where a powerful ice elemental had been magically imprisoned.
Having no idea whatsoever about what she was doing, she broke the wards and set it free. Rather then killing her, it offered to make a pact with the young moon elf child. Not understanding exactly what she was doing, she agreed to lead the moon elf nomads into the far North in order to teach them to fear the power of ice.
The child warlock had managed to accept power that she could not control, although she managed to hide it for a while. She left the cave and made her way out to the worried moon elves. Between her various "adventures" and a few suggestions, she did manage to lead them into the north where they grew somewhat accustomed to the cold.
She continued to hide her power until sometime after her tenth birthday. A polar bear managed to stumble into the moon elf camp, and attacked one of the other elves. Scared and angry, Viri used her powers which she had not yet learned to control, which resulted in encasing both the bear and the elf in ice.
She fled before anyone could question her about her strange powers, wandering alone for many years, until finally she has arrived in Neverwinter. She still has not learned to control the powers granted by her pact, and so tries to avoid using them.
Personality
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Motivations: Survival, to master her powers that she has almost no control over currently
Disposition: Timid
Religion/Philosophy: Worships Corellon. Is pacted to a powerful Ice Elemental
Positive Personality Traits: Attempts to be kind and friendly.
Negative Personality Traits: Afraid of everyone except Aranaya.
Misc. Quirks: Has almost no control over her powers, resulting in a tendency to accidently freeze things.
Affiliations
None currently
Full Name: Saelines Loysilias, but claims not to have a last name.
Nicknames: Saeliness, Mindbreaker Saelines.
Level: 60 OOC. 13 IC. (Using 4th edition rules)
Class: Great Weapon Fighter (Both IC and OOC)
Race: Human
Gender : Female
Current Age: 29
Hair: Orange.
Skin: Pale
Eyes: Blue
Height: 5'11
Weight: Natural
Biographical
Place of Residence: Neverwinter
Place of Birth: Neverwinter
Relatives: Prinaru Loysilias (Ex husband and evil psion), Chelana Loysilias (Daughter), parents (Deceased)
Enemies: Prinaru Loysilias, all psions.
Allies: A group of warriors dedicated to slaying psions and the Mythweavers.
Occupation: Adventuring, parenting.
Tradeskill: Tailoring.
Appearance: A strong middle aged woman.
Fashion of Choice: An elaborate dress.
Armor of Choice: A mixture of scale and platemail created from adamantine coated with a mithral layer to protect again corrosion.
Weapons of Choice: A greatsword created from an adamantine and steel alloy.
Special Abilities: Wears a powerful amulet that gives immunity to mind effecting spells and heavy resistance to magical fire. Can also be used to remove from someone all recent memories of Saelines, although it's power becomes drained and must slowly recharge after using this, making her temporarily vulnerable, so she does this extremely rarely.
History/Biography: Saelines was born shortly before the Cataclysm nearly destroyed Neverwinter. Her family survived, although she was left without many other people around during her early childhood. That said, her family had enough money to survive without too much trouble. As she grew older, Saelines began to admire the adventurers that were helping to protect the damaged city.
By the age of ten she had learned to ride a horse.
By the age of twelve she had begun to train with swords.
At the age of eighteen she left to begun defending the city. Shortly after she joined a party of adventurers which included the tiefling mage Prinaru Loysilias. They venturered into the Underdark soon after, where Prinaru was captured by a group of illithids. He was rescued with little damage, as far as anyone could tell. Saelines fell in love with him shortly after. They later became married, but it was not to last.
Not long after her twenty first birthday, her first and only child was born. Chelana. Due to her father's heritage, she was born with some defining tiefling features, however Prinaru's infernal heritage was very faint and Chelana's even less so. They agreed it would be better for her to remove the tail and horns in order that she might appear human. A few days later, Saelines discovered that her parents were dead. When she told Prinaru. he laughed and revealed that he was the one who had killed them. A long battle ensued, in which Prinaru nearly gained control of Saelines's mind. She survived, but he also escaped, never to be seen again until recently. Saelines later discovered that an illithid experiment had granted him psionic abilities.
Later, Chelana began to display psionic abilities as well, weak at first, but growing stronger as she got older. Saelines continued to reduce Chelana's contact with people, not trusting her psionic abilities at all.
No one has been known to see Chelana aside from Saelines over the past two years,
Personality
Alignment: Neutral Good
Motivations: To protect Neverwinter, specifically her daughter Chelana.
Religion/Philosophy: Torm
Positive Personality Traits: Loyal, skilled at developing tactics
Negative Personality Traits: Often too analytical, can seem rather serious at times around people she doesn't know well
Misc. Quirks:
Interests
Likes: Children, unique weapons.
Dislikes: Psions, undead, orcs, psions, bandits, evil drow, mindflayers, psions, goblins, evil mages, did I mention psions?
Favorite Foods: Any
Favorite Drinks: Tea
Favorite Colors: White
Hobbies: None
Full Name: Chelana Loysilias, although she believes not to have a last name at all
Nicknames: "That weird voice in everyone's head", Chel
Level: 4 OOC, 2 IC.
Class: Psion ((CW OOC.))
Race: Tiefling, although her infernal heritage is extremely small and her horns and tail were removed at birth, so she appears human without any magic to detect otherwise.
Gender : Female
Current Age: 8
Hair: Blonde.
Skin: Pale, with a slight reddish tone to it.
Eyes: A pale almost unnatural blue.
Height: 2'8
Weight: Light
Biographical
Place of Residence: Neverwinter
Place of Birth: Neverwinter
Affiliations
Relatives: Saelines Loysilias (Mother), Prinaru Loysilias (Father and evil psion. His relation to Chelana is unknown to her.)
Enemies: Someone she has nicknamed "The Horned Man".
Allies: Her mother Saelines Loysilias, another little girl named Nathala Nilsilus, a telepathic magical floating stone named Contagion.
Occupation: Looking cute.
Tradeskill: Creeping people out by trying to have a conversation with them...in their head.
Appearance: A little girl.
Fashion of Choice: An ornate dress following the same pattern as her mother's, but smaller obviously.
Armor of Choice: Doesn't have any, since she never fights.
Weapons of Choice: Doesn't have any for the same reason as above, although she can defend herself to some degree using her psionic abilities, but she hasn't developed them much yet.
Special Abilities: Psionics, mainly telepathic communication.
History/Biography: Chelana was born to Saelines Loysilias and Prinaru Loysilias. Shortly after her birth, Prinaru revealed himself to be evil and capable of psionic powers. Chelana was raised by her mother Saelines, and eventually began displaying psionic abilities as well. Saelines began to keep her separated from society in order to hide her abilities. She eventually met an equally strange child named Nathala who helped her escape the house, where she learned most people didn't really have any issues with her psionic abilities.
Personality
Alignment: Neutral good.
Motivations: None.
Religion/Philosophy: Unknown
Misc. Quirks: Her psionic abilities are still rather weak, making her unable to form most names or long words. This often carries over to her physical speech, causing people to get strange nicknames from her in most cases. (IE: She refers to her mother as "The Sword Woman" due to her big sword, and refers to a certain tiefling as "The Horned Man".)
Interests
Likes: Flowers, puppies, kittens, telepathic communication.
Dislikes: Fear, pain, lying, people with mental protections.
Favorite Foods: Cookies
Favorite Drinks: Juice
Favorite Colors: White, purple.
Hobbies: Whatever she feels like doing at the time.
Saves
Will: 10
Reflex: 5
Fortitude: 2
Full Name: Naulhiel Vrai'Xail
Nicknames: The Elder Visionary, Naulhiel The All-Seeing
Level: 55
Class: Hunter Ranger ((IC, I honestly have no idea what he'd be considered. Probably some sort of monk or fighter.))
Race: Sun Elf
Gender : Male
Current Age: 327
Hair: Dark Black
Skin: Pale
Eyes: Bright Red
Height: 5'10
Weight: Average
Biographical
Place of Residence: Neverwinter
Place of Birth: Netheril
Relatives: His 9 year old daughter Nathala, his wife Railthela who is currently desceased.
Enemies: Any who stand in his way
Allies: The New Order of the Eye Tyrant.
Occupation: Sometimes takes mercenary work in order to gather riches for his order.
Tradeskill: Weaponsmithing
Appearance: His dark hair, red eyes, pale skin, and red tattoo make him look very creepy.
Fashion of Choice: White, red, and black robes.
Armor of Choice: White, red, and black robes.
Weapons of Choice: Dual swords
Special Abilities: In addition to his skills as warrior, Naulhiel can use some illusion spells, although he uses them rarely and they are not very powerful.
History/Biography: Naulhiel was born in the empire of Netheril. At a young age, they exiled him, forcing him to fend for himself. Very soon after, however, an elder beholder known as Schalifax found Naulhiel and forced him to do his bidding in return for food and shelter. When Schalifax discovered a cult dedicated to the worship of beholders, he took control of the cult and brought his "pet", Naurhiel, with him. Naurhiel quickly gained a high rank in the cult for his devotion to Schalifax. Eventually, when the cult was all but destroyed by a small band of adventurers, Naurhiel took control of what was left and now seeks to restore it to its former glory, through whatever means necessary. Unlike the previous leader, Naurhiel believes beholders can become accepted leaders in Neverwinter society and seeks to establish their dominance through more peaceful means if possible.
To most, he calls himself "The Elder Visionary", however, the few high ranking leaders that know his true name call him "Naulhiel the All-Seeing".
Personality
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Motivations: Rebuilding to Order of the Eye Tyrant to its former glory.
Disposition: Emotionless
Outlook: Assured of his success
Religion/Philosophy: Worships beholders.
Positive Personality Traits: Calm
Negative Personality Traits: Arrogant, does not care about individual lives so long as his goals succeed.
Misc. Quirks: He never blinks. Ever. Combined with his lack of pupils he is extremely creepy because of this.
Interests
Likes: Beholders
Dislikes: Anyone who believes themselves greater than his plans
Favorite Foods: Unknown
Favorite Drinks: Unknown
Favorite Colors: Red, white, and black. The colors of the Order of the Eye Tyrant.
Hobbies: None
Full Name: Thaivalin Lok'Draneer
Nicknames: None known.
Level: 60
Class: Devoted Cleric
Race: Half Sun Elf/Half Wood Elf
Gender : Male
Current Age: 214
Hair: Reddish-orange with a slight green tint.
Skin: Pale, and heavily damaged by frostbite.
Eyes: His right eye is blue, and his left would have been the same color if not for a large cut in that area.
Height: 6'1
Weight: Average
Biographical
Place of Residence: Caer Konig in Icewind Dale
Place of Birth: Myth Drannor, although he claims, and for a long time believed, he was born in Icewind Dale.
Relatives: Theltesa Lok'Draneer (Mother. Deceased.), Trahliel Lok'Draneer (Father.), Vrilanev Lok'Draneer (Uncle) Satella Voshk (Adopted human daughter.)
Enemies: Neiressa Voshk (Believed Deceased.)
Allies: Satella Voshk, Silverstars, Mythweavers.
Occupation: Healer
Tradeskill: Black Ice Shaping
Appearance: He would be handsome if his features were not so marred by frostbite.
Fashion of Choice: Scalemail
Armor of Choice: Scalemail
Weapons of Choice: Holy Symbol
Special Abilities: None
History/Biography:
Thaivalin was born to a Wood Elf priestess of Selune named Theltesa Lok'Draneer. and a Sun Elf wizard and nobleman of Myth Drannor named Trahliel Lok'Draneer. Two years after Thaivalin's birth, Theltesa decided possibility of her relationship with Trahliel being discovered was too much of a risk to his position and moved back to her homeland of Icewind Dale, taking Thaivalin with her. About ten years later, Theltesa was murdered, the cause of which was never found. Thaivalin continued her work as best as he good, quickly gaining a high rank in the Silverstars. His hotheaded nature prevented him from becoming a Moonstar, however. Many years, later, he discovered the true location of his birth, although he never told anyone except for, several years later, Satella.
Over two hundred years after his mother's death, he faced Neiressa Voshk, a believer of the Dark Moon Heresy who also believed she was destined to repair the Shadow Weave and use its full power to replace Shar. (And Selune as she believed) After killing Neiressa, Thaivon adopted her daughter, Satella, who attempts to follow in his footsteps as a priestess of Selune. It is quite rare, however, that he actually tells the full truth about what happened to Satella's family.
Personality
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Motivations: To destroy evil, to protect Satella
Disposition: Friendly
Outlook: Neutral
Religion/Philosophy: Selune.
Positive Personality Traits: Friendly, righteous
Negative Personality Traits: Hotheaded, often doesn't know when to stop.
Misc. Quirks: As mentioned earlier, his skin is heavily damaged by frostbite.
Interests
Likes: Unknown
Dislikes: Unknown
Favorite Foods: Unknown
Favorite Drinks: Water
Favorite Colors: Blue
Hobbies: Adventuring.
Full Name: Nathala Nilsilus (Formerly Nathala Vrai'Xail)
Nicknames: Used to call herself the Elder Visionary after her parents died. She has now dropped that title though.
Level: 0 IC (Around 13 I think OOC)
Class: Commoner
Race: Half elf
Gender : Female
Current Age: 9
Hair: Black
Skin: Pale
Eyes: Black
Height: Around average for her age
Weight: Light
Biographical
Place of Residence: Neverwinter
Place of Birth: The Cult of the Eye Tyrant Citadel
Relatives: Naulhiel Vrai'Xail (Father, deceased), Railthela Vrai'Xail (Mother, deceased), Kaisele Nilsilus (Adoptive mother.)
Enemies: None
Allies: Archmage Vlathis, Chelana Loysilias
Occupation: None
Tradeskill: Pranking
Appearance: A half elven little girl.
Fashion of Choice: A white, red, and black dress.
Armor of Choice: None
Weapons of Choice: The Visionary Blade, a small magical dagger capable of replicating any beholder eye beam.
Special Abilities: None
History/Biography: Nathala was born to a cult known as the Cult of the Eye Tyrant. Not long after her ninth birthday, the cult was nearly wiped out by a group of adventurers. Her father took the rank of Elder Visionary, which made her a well respected member as well. Unluckily for her, the remaining cultists continued attempted their schemes and the cult was completely destroyed by a very young mage named Vlathis and an assassin pretending to be a noble named Eve Elemmire. Nathala's father Naulhiel managed to be freed from the control of the cult, and he started a new life with Nathala in Cherrywood. Eventually, it was discovered that Eve had simply capture, rather than killed, the remaining cultists, and her mother was released to live with Nathala and Naulhiel. Railthela, however, was actually a secret worshipper of Cyric and killed Naulhiel. The intervention of a druid known as Sierra Silverfox, and rogue named Iosifova Blouse, and a commoner named Karnarath Leiphone rescued Nathala and killed Naulhiel.
Nathala lived in an orphanage run by a woman named Jade Underhill for a while after that. Eventually, Nathala was adopted by a woman named Kaisele Nilsilus.
Personality
Alignment: Chaotic good
Motivations: To have fun
Disposition: Cheerful, although somewhat mischievous.
Religion/Philosophy: Worships Selune, but used to worship beholders.
Positive Personality Traits: Friendly, cheerful
Negative Personality Traits: Always seems to show up at exactly the wrong time
Misc. Quirks: A tattoo around one of her eyes given to her while she was part of the Cult of the Eye Tyrant to mark her status as daughter of the Elder Visionary.
Interests
Likes: Puppies, magical items that can be used to prank people
Dislikes: Anyone who tries to force her to do (or not do) anything.
Favorite Foods: Cookies
Favorite Drinks: Juice
Favorite Colors: White, red, and black
Hobbies: None