Eberron Bepop (3.5 edition DnD)

Started by Zaer Darkwail, September 10, 2013, 05:48:59 AM

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Rhaegar14

#175
Oh damn. I just realized that Warblade only grants proficiency in all martial melee weapons, and therefore doesn't technically qualify Demvarien for Knight Phantom (which requires proficiency in all martial weapons). Zaer, are you willing to let that slide, or am I going with Crusader instead?

EDIT: Spell selection is done, as is the entire character sheet if Zaer approves Warblade to qualify for Knight Phantom. If not, all that's left to do is switch his dip to another class. I'll put up a Personality blurb some other time; sifting through all the spells in the PHBs, SpC, and Dragon Magic took way too long for me to want to do anything else with it right now.
Pretty much scrapped my signature because everything in it is hilariously out of date. I might work on fixing that eventually.

Lockepick

I think, after all of this, I'm going to have to withdraw. I need to trust my gut that if it's this much trouble for me to work up a character, maybe it's not just a good fit. I think I just got excited about any idea involving airships...

Sorry to dick everybody around!
Like what you see? I am currently looking for new plots!

Detailed List of O/Os and Plot Seeds

All of my image links were previously photobucket and broken -- I'm fixing them as I use the avatars again, or for current games. Please let me know if there is something that needs updating!

Zaer Darkwail

lockepick: Sad see you go after so long trying figure out a good char :/. Good luck and have fun in E!

Rhaegar14: I myself had escaped notion that warblade only knows all martial melee weapons, I myself would rule they get martial weapon proficiency as usual (so can use martial ranged weapons).

kckolbe

I am going to bow out as well.  Have fun all.
Ons/Offs  A/A  Oath of the Drake
(From the Penis Game) Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Penis
I love a wet nymph.  "Letting some guy have [her] just to have another woman is a losing trade"

Buffy: The Vampire Slayer(IC#2)
Intro Thread

Zaer Darkwail

Well, I guess we make a roll call now; Who all are still interested on this game? If so if you have posted chars (or posted more than one because shifting on char ideas), please link them on the next post so I get clear idea what potential players I still have.

Muse

Still here! 

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
Quote from: Muse on September 14, 2013, 12:07:52 PM
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=654940

Arslan's extended family are the descendants of a small clan of Shifters who lived in a cliffside city on a mountain range for ages and ages.  Their domain was threatened at the beginning of the War and they took sanctuary in Sharn.  There they discovered that their head for heights made them naturals to construct, maintain, and repair the highest towers in the city. 

The companies in charge of these public works were corrupt and--while the Skywalker clan shifters earn more than a lot of people in Sharn, they're still hardly prosperous.  (IF they scrimp and budget, they can provide a home for their wife and children without their wife having to work.  But that's a stretch.) 

The old men in the Skywalker clan have developed a habit of taking one final climb up the highest towers when they grow too old to work.  They say they're climbing to the moons, but everyone knows that this is their way of facing their deaths with dignity, in a final challenge against the wind and the rain and the steel and the stone. 

Arslan never was satisfied with the life of a high steel worker.  After his father climbed to the moon, he'd had enough and enlisted in the army for the final years of the Great War. 

   Arslan never was very stealthy, but people always put shifters as scouts, so that's where he wound up.  Rather than ruin the silent movement of his comrades, he made a habit of taking to the trees and the rooftops, serving a lookout, sniper, and death from above ambush expert.  (It helped when the platoons artificer crafted him a magic crossbow of deep crystal and a magic chain shirt of mithril.) 

   Three years before the end of the war, Arslan and his troop wound up maneuvering against an enemy band of shifter scouts.  The running was hard and the fighting was harder.  The eneimes faked a retreat several times trying to lure them into ambushes.  He didn't even realize the group had really broken when he noticed a straggler in feminine armor beneath him. 

   Arslan had been cured of his awkwardness about fighting women during the war.  Hardening his body psionicly, he dropped from the tree with his dagger drawn and onto her back. 

   The girl managed to keep her feet!  As they both staggered, Arslan tackled her through some bushes, loosing her halberd and his daggers.  They both tumbled to their feet, unarmed.  The girl, Arslan could see now, was almost fully human.  If it weren't for the anamilistic light in her golden eyes he would doubt she was a shifter at all... 

   Then her muscles ripples and her head went almost entirely lupine and arslan had no further doubts! 

   The older man bulked up, nails extending into claws as he shifted as well.  They wrestled for almost a minute, occasionally gouging each other but both were too heavily warded for their wounds to endure. It was only when their shifts exhausted simultaneously that Arslan was able to overpower the smaller girl and bind her in silk rope to lead back to his army in triumph. 

   It turned out that their main force had suffered a crushing defeat that day and they had to move five miles extra to get to the new camp.  Arslan turned over his prisoner with the promise of 75% of the  ransom award, then ate, crawled into his tent, and snored. 

   The girl haunted his dreams.  She'd been young, with a fierce spirit and hopeful face. Barely old enough for love and surely too young for war! 

   Pained screams startled him awake in the morning.  Arslan dressed quickly and followed them the cries to the front of the captain’s tent.  The girl hung naked by her wrists, being stroked with a leather lash. 

   Furious, Arslan bellowed, “What are you doing to my prisoner?” 

   The captain glared at him, and he continued, “Sir, I doubt she'll be worth much ransome covered in scars!” 

   “New orders from the top, scout.  No more ransoming prisoners back to fight us again.” 

   Arslan growled as the lash was lifted again and strode up to the officers, who's garuds drew their swords, “Then by right of the laws of war, I claim her as my war bride!” 

   There were some gasps—not that he'd invoked the right to take a slave so much as because he'd defied the captain, who'd lost friends in the most recent battle, but he laughed and cut the girl down for Arslan.  “Enjoy her, boy!”

   Arslan carried the girl to his tent, lay her down on the bed, and began to wash her wounds...
A link for all of us who ever had a shouting match with our muse: http://www.ted.com/talks/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius.html

How to set this Muse ablaze (O/Os)

When the little angel won't appear no matter how many plum blossoms you swirl:  https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=135346.msg16474321#msg16474321 (Major update 5/10/2023)

Kunoichi

I'm still interested. ^^

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
Quote from: Kunoichi on September 13, 2013, 12:12:09 AM
Leisha of Breland (formerly Captain Leisha Skyvalley, Brelish Army)




My early life doesn't matter much, or at least not to me.  It was another life, and everything that happened in that life feels... distant, dreamlike.  I don't really have many clear memories of those days.  I was born and raised in Starilaskur, and life at home was... not perfect, but much better than it could have been, now that I think back on it.  I remember that dad fought in the Last War in his early days, and that he'd taken a bad enough wound that they'd had to remove his leg and send him home to recover, away from all the fighting.  Needless to say, he hated the War, and was often very vocal in his insistence that no daughter of his was ever going to go off and join the army.

When I ran away from home at 16, naturally my first move was to enlist.

Military life was pretty simple.  First I went through the same basic training as everybody else, where the drill sergeants managed to knock some discipline into me, then I settled into the life of a soldier.  It was boring, for the most part, follow orders, maintain readiness, go where they told you to go and do what they told you to do...  And then there were those brief, exciting, frightening, action-packed days where the actual fighting and dying happened.  I don't really remember many of the individual engagements, they tend to all bleed together over time, but I do remember that my military career lasted for 8 years, and that I was good enough at being a soldier to earn a promotion or two over that career.

The Day of Mourning is also a bit jumbled in my memories, but that's for a different reason.  I can quite clearly remember that the final battle in the Last War was a free-for-all, forces from Thrane and Cyre and Darguun, and of course the Brelish units I fought alongside, all converging together onto the same battlefield in a four-way battle for control of the area.  Then came a bright flash of light some ways off, and everyone paused for a few seconds as a massive grey cloud rose in the distance.  The fighting soon resumed, however, even as the sounds of battle were gradually drowned out by a keening, wailing sound that got louder and louder as the cloud got closer and closer.

The last thing I can remember is the mists washing over us, the ground shaking as the earth tore itself apart right in front of me, men and women and warforged falling to their deaths as a massive cliff rose up, and then pain and darkness... and then nothing.

Things get fuzzy again, after that.  I know from checking calendars that it took six months before I walked out of the Mournlands again, but it was impossible for me to track the passage of time while I was in there.  I don't know how long it took before my spirit rose, or how much time I wasted just sitting around, haunting that abandoned battlefield.  I... I thought I was in Dolurrh, at first, that I'd managed to evade the Keeper's grasp, and that all that was left was for me to wait around and see if I'd succumb to apathy, or if maybe someone would bring me back, somehow.

I don't know how long I spent walking after the boredom got to me, either, but eventually the mist sort of solidified into a wall up ahead of me, and when I pushed through that, I recognized the Brelish countryside.  I eavesdropped on a few conversations, managed to figure out what had actually happened to me, what I had become, but after that...

Well, would you know what to do or where to go if you were in my situation?  Friends and family were out, I'm a dead woman and I have no intention of ever troubling them with the knowledge that I've become undead on top of that, and as for making new friends, that's not easy when most people out there view you as little more than a dangerous monster.  Still, they say all roads lead to Sharn, and that's eventually where I ended up, too, haunting the Cogs until I managed to beg, borrow, or steal the magic items I needed to pass as one of the living.

As for why I joined up with Derram and his merry little band of misfits aboard the Blaze?  Well, let's just say we have similar goals.  As with all ghosts, I'm sick and tired of running around half-awake in this world, and I want to move on to my final resting place in the next.  And in order to do that I need to take care of a little unfinished business, here in the land of the living.  Working with Derram is probably my best shot at that.

Rhaegar14

I'm still here. Below is consolidated background and character sheet, with added personality blurb.

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
Character Sheet



Name: Demvarien d'Lyrandar, formerly Demvarien of Stormhome
Race & Class: Half-Elf Knight Phantom
Age: 51
Biography:

"I am the sword of Aundair. I am the first to arrive and the last hope when all seems lost. I saw the very worst of the Last War, and when the next one starts, I will see the worst of it too. I am one of the Knights Arcane's finest. I am a Knight Phantom, and if you face me on the field of battle, you will know what it is to fear."

Demvarien was born in Stormhome as a nephew of the current Matriarch of House Lyrandar, Esravash. Being closely related to the ruler of the House, Demvarien lived a life of comfort and luxury during his early years, and had the finest teachers gold could buy. Though he did not manifest a Dragonmark, early in his studies he showed a sharp intellect and a grasp of arcane knowledge. When the first Magewright was brought in to teach him the basics of arcane magic, the young Half-Elf took to spells like they were part of his blood. He was singled out by the Matriarch to be groomed for membership in The Twelve, and when he was old enough, Demvarien was sent to the University of Wynarn to receive magical training beyond what Magewright tutors could teach him. The year was 967 YK, and Demvarien was nineteen years old.

For a time, Demvarien was very happy at the University. Though many of its halls were empty of students, there were enough there for him to make friends and have a budding social life. However, one by one, his friends all left for the war, drafted in service of the crown. One by one, Demvarien received news of their deaths in combat. By his third year at the university, the young Half-Elf could take no more. He left his House in self-imposed exile, abandoning the name d'Lyrandar and calling himself Demvarien of Stormhome. Demvarien signed on with the Aundairian military as a battlemage not long after.

Many of his comrades saw Demvarien as less than a real Aundairian soldier, feeling that he could not so easily cut his ties to his Dragonmarked House. Rather than arguing with words, the Half-Elf argued with his actions, showing tremendous bravery and skill on the battlefield. He rose quickly through the lower ranks of the army, and it was not long before he was recognized by the Knights Arcane. Shortly afterwards, he was offered training and membership in the most elite order in the Aundairian military, the Knights Phantom. Demvarien eagerly accepted.

For two decades and most of a third, Demvarien fought ceaselessly for Aundair in the battles of the Last War. In the year 994, however, his military career came to an end.

In one of its many battles with Karrnath, Aundair sought to establish a foothold on the Eastern bank of the Scions Sound. Demvarien's unit of one hundred Knights Phantom was sent far ahead of the rest of the force to capture and hold a small ruin North of Rekkenmark, to serve as a temporary base for the expedition force into Karrnathi territory. The unit was well in advance of the main Aundairian force, in order to keep the Karrnathi from recognizing Aundair's true intentions and increasing their defenses appropriately. The Knights captured the ruin quietly enough in the middle of the night, but the defenders sent word before being overwhelmed. By the next morning, a force outnumbering their own many times over was gathered outside the small fortification to force them out. All they could do was try and hold on until the rest of their forces arrived.

For the first day, they held against the onslaught with minimal losses, their elite training winning the day. But the undead do not tire, nor do they run out of spells. By the end of the second day, with no time to rest and insufficient numbers to take turns refreshing spells, the Knights had lost more than half their number. On the dawn of the third day, when the Knights Phantom heard the horns of Aundairian reinforcements, there were only a handful of them left, desperately fighting for survival. When the reinforcements arrived, Demvarien, badly wounded, stood as the only survivor of the hundred Knights that had claimed the ruin.

Something inside Demvarien broke in the aftermath of that battle. His taste for bloodshed was gone, and he had no more stomach for war. The Half-Elf was granted the Aundairian military's highest honor, and his comrades received the award posthumously. Demvarien was removed from the front lines for the rest of the war, training prospective recruits in the battle techniques of the Knights Phantom. When the Treaty of Thronehold was signed, he was dishonorably discharged.

For a little while, Demvarien lived a civilian life, free of his House and the Knights Arcane. But despite his best efforts to hide it, the Least Dragonmark that had manifested on the dark day when he outlived his comrades had come to the attention of House Lyrandar. Demvarien was "persuaded" to rejoin his family, and assigned to work on the airship of one Bael'vanos D'Lyrandar as a bodyguard and mercenary.

Personality: Demvarien can come off as a cold individual; he is extremely logical and turns an analytical eye towards any situation, particularly tactical assessment. At his heart, however, he cares deeply for the good of others, and is a particularly loyal friend. However, the Half-Elf also bears more than his fair share of emotional scars from the war. He still bears old enmity towards citizens of Karrnath, Thrane, and the Eldeen Reaches, though he tries to keep himself from being overtly hostile. In addition, violence is hard on Demvarien. He has healed enough of his wounds to engage in small skirmishes with few side effects, and even in larger battles, three decades of military discipline keep him functional until the threat has passed. However, after a large battle or an encounter with undead, Demvarien can suffer from psychological breakdowns of varying degree as he is hurled back to that dark day in Karrnath.
Pretty much scrapped my signature because everything in it is hilariously out of date. I might work on fixing that eventually.

Zaer Darkwail

Hmmm, so far three. I hope Luna is still around and interested.

Teo Torriatte

#184
Quote from: Zaer Darkwail on September 17, 2013, 06:46:38 AM
Hmmm, so far three. I hope Luna is still around and interested.

Ooh yes, definitely!  :-)

Here is what I have so far.. a sheet and some background-

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=655636

During the waning few years of the Last War, Reala went to war alongside her shield sisters from the Eldeen Reaches. They were engaging against a scout team from Sharn, when they were outmaneuvered and pressed into a gravely disadvantageous position. Knowing when to fight and when to cut and run, Reala and her sisters decided to run, but Reala tended to wear heavier armor and was much slower and a lot less stealthy than the other girls. She was lagging behind, but encouraging her sisters to leave her if they had to, if thats what it took for them to get away. And when the other girls looked back, Reala had vanished.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a man had dropped on top of her and shoved her through a thick growth of bushes, into a small clearing where they faced off. She shifted.. and so did he! They tussled for a moment in their bestial forms, and she was able to hold him off, but when they both shifted back at the same time, he had an even greater strength advantage and was able to overpower her. He was able to tie her up and left the field with Reala as his battle trophy.

She had assumed, based of reports from other released prisoners, that it would be a matter of stewing in a cage for a few days and then being ransomed off back to her own people. But instead, she found herself stripped naked, strung up by her wrists in front of what she had assumed was the captain's tent. He produced a lash and started to ask questions, to which she just stubbornly shook her head.

It only took the first stroke for the young shifter to start screaming. Her first screams came out all bestial sounding, since she had shifted in an attempt to summon the strength to break free of her bindings. She squirmed as he struck her again, and again, her legs flailing, her cries of pain echoing through the camp.

The other soldiers just watched, seeming to be amused by the spectacle. It saddened her that the war had turned what she could only assume were basically good men into bloodthirsty animals. But she didn't have a whole lot of attention for such concerns, in fact as the lash struck her pale flesh over and over, she started to wonder if she was even meant to survive this. By the time she spotted the man who had initially captured her, she was covered in blood and welts, barely able to keep her head up to gaze hopefully at him. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but she had felt something when they had fought, sensed that he, too, might have been a decent, even honorable man, maybe even the kind who had the decency to deplore such treatment of prisoners... that hope was all she had left...

But even then she was not prepared for what he would say next. He would claim her as his war bride?!?

Her eyes widened, and in her half delirious state all she could do was chuckle, as if it was some kind of joke. "War bride, that's a good one..." she muttered... "at least I will die laughing..." and then finally the pain and blood loss became too much and she passed out.

Zaer Darkwail

Okay, got four players then. So the game is 'full' unless someone has interest play the pilot (fill the requirement to have entered the PrC) or play the ship's main engineer (by having levels in artificer, around half levels to be competent in the job).

Kunoichi

So... does that mean we're ready for an OOC thread? ^^;

Zaer Darkwail

Yup, although I got Chloe contact me in PM and tell interest about to be pilot (and liking the PrC what is requirement for the pilot although aiming later for storm sentry PrC). I will open OOC thread and char thread soonish.