Ribenheim: Into the Unknown (Ladies Wanted)

[MagicalPen]

World Map - Click to Enlarge - WARNING: LARGE  MAP

The Races of the World

The Civilized Races:

The Race of Man

Humankind are by far the most widespread of all the Races. Hardy and Intuitive, they are industrious and conquer all land that they come across. Based on location, they've evolved over the years to become more hardy in their locales, and are thus the most diverse of all the Races. Women are typically 4” - 12” inches shorter than their male counterparts.

-The Northmen-
Carving out a living in the Northern Reaches, the Northmen are at home in the cold. Tribal warfare before their civilization has created a race of man typically 6’0” -to- 6’8” tall, with fairer complexions and lighter colored hair. They are by far the tallest of the human races. Due to the climate, they are good hunters and good fishermen as well.

-The Typical Human-
The Typical Human, found in more moderate climates and by far the most common of all humans, are on average 5’8” to 6’4” tall, with body types that span the spectrum. They are Soldiers, Farmers, Craftsmen, Nobles - the whole gambit. Their complexions and hair are as widely varied as they are, with various regions having a higher likelihood of producing similarly looking locals.

-The Dar’Luka-
Otherwise known as the Sand People, the Dar’Luka have a more olive tone to their skin, almost the color of the deserts that they inhabit. Their men tend to stand between 5’6” and 6’0” tall and are often of a lean, thin complexion and are all universally dark-haired. Those encountered in the Civilized Kingdoms are often Merchants or Slave Traders.

-The Sirilians-
Of the Sirilians, little is known. They inhabit the Jungles of the World, are quite territorial and live in a Tribal Culture. What is known is that they often have the darkest skin of all the human races, all have black hair, and none have even been recorded to stand more than 5’8” tall.

The Race of Elves

Elvenkind are one of the most long-lived races in the World and claim to be the first to inhabit it as well. While they live nearly twice as long as your average human, they are lucky to have more than one child in their lifetime. As such, the Elves now live scattered throughout the World. Getting involved in another major war could quite easily spell the death of their race.

-The High Elves-
Widely considered among the most beautiful creatures on the face of the Earth, the High Elves fall into the category of Nobility among their people. Tall, elegant, graceful and above all, beautiful, they are always noticed when traveling. They are among the best crafters of silver and retain the secret of their Mithril armor - so light it is barely noticeable, but nearly as strong as plate mail. They are considered the best Jewelers in the world as well. Fair complexions and eyes and hair that seem to match the natural minerals and gems of the world. They stand between 6’2” - 6’8” tall.

-The Wood Elves-
Darker skinned than High Elves, with a more bronzed complexion and darker hair and eyes, Wood Elves are most at home in the forest. They are the best wood carvers to grace the world, their bows a testament to their skill. They are also considered the best trackers/hunters/archers as well and have an uncanny ability to blend in with their surroundings. They are also slightly shorter than their High Elven brethren, but much more agile.

-The Dark Elves-
The Dark Elves are a race of Elves who have turned from the light and everything that is natural to their Race. They are of a belief that the other Races seek to destroy the Elven Race and have vowed an endless war against the other races. Defeated in battle, they have taken to the underground, fighting the Dwarves and other denizens for the underground kingdoms, while also controlling a few well hidden surface-side locations where they wage their war. Due to their shift in alignment, their natural order is out of balance, slowly turning their skin to an ashen-gray or even black. They are on average the same height as Wood Elves.

On Elves

Elves live twice as long as humans do, but do not reproduce as quickly as Humans.

Visually, an Elf ages at the same rate as a Human until the age of 18, at which point their aging process seems to slow down. Elves are considered 'forever youthful' because of their fair looks.

As such, it is hard to distinguish the age of an Elf, though in their later years wrinkles begin to appear and their hair grows gray.

The Uncivilized Races

The world is truly a vast place. While the races of Man, Elf, and Dwarf have done much to bring stability and civilization to the world, there are those who seek to undo it, or those that just do not seem to fit in on either side.

Old races, nearly extinct, seeking to etch out their livelihoods in a changing world. Vile races, unleashed by the Under Dark, or inhabiting the Wild Areas.

These are those races.

The Orcs

If there was ever a race bred for warfare, it was the Orcs. Luckily for the other races, the War-like Orcs were a strictly tribal society of nomadic peoples, more intent on destroying each other then the other races. By the time the Tribes united, it was all but over for the Orcs. You are more likely to come across a Half-Orc these days then a pure-bred Orc, but they are out there - mostly operating as Mercenaries for Hire. Even so, an Orc in full Battle Armor is a foe to be feared.

Orcs are large - on average, around 7’0” tall, with tusks, green skin, dark hair, and muscled bodies. Half-Orcs are more human in looking, though their size and strength give away their Orcish heritage.

Goblins

Goblins are very much the Scavengers of the Under Dark. The size of Dwarfs, but on the leaner side of things, Goblins often attack in packs - about the only time they are truly deadly. Goblins caught unawares are likely to panic, and one-on-one most creatures can defeat a Goblin. Packs of Goblins have been known to raid above ground and are quite effective at it, scavenging for better equipment as they do so. They are quick and agile as well and often set traps around their encampments - it is said they love nothing more than torturing their enemies to death!

Images of the Races

Human Males
Human Females
Elvish Males
Elvish Females

Magic

Magic: Magic is a mystical thing. In some places its touch is strong, in other places it is weak, non-existent. Its weakest form is the most common - a healing touch, a natural affinity to calm animals, a master craftsman able to use his skill to make the finest of details or weapons. A level most likely not to draw any undue attention.

The next level of magic are those who can manipulate the world around them, or summon the elements. These people are called Mages and are mostly found on the Isle of Draiocht - an island devoted to the study of Magic and its uses for the better of mankind. It is these Mages that are most at risk - to society and themselves - and many die when consumed by the magic they can not control. Those who show signs of possessing this sort of magic are usually killed - accused of witchcraft and causing death and disease. Only the island of Draiocht can offer them protection and a chance to tame their powers, but none of the Adepts live a long life. Magic is wild and powerful and drives its users insane.

Wizards are the most powerful magic users to have ever walked the surface of the world. There area currently no known Wizards that exist in the world and it has been nearly 500 years since the last Wizard died.

On Religion

Religion can be viewed as similar to Norse and Gaelic and Roman and Greek from our world.

Ribenheim is a Kingdom that follows the Old Ways - or at least what is considered to be the Old Ways. There are Older Religions out there, but very few follow such deities.
The Old Ways -

Economics

Economics:
There is a universal monetary system, though when traveling between kingdoms it is best to obtain coinage from that Kingdom for transactions. While all essentially the same in value, they may be called different things depending on the region you are in. Of course, a bartering and trade system is also in existence.

1 Copper
20 Coppers = 1 Silver
10 Silver = 1 Gold Crown

Cost:
1 Draft Horse = 1 Gold Crown
Loaf of Bread = 5 Coppers
Room and Board at a modest Inn = 1 Silver + 8 - 18 Coppers
Meal at Tavern = 18 - 25 Coppers

5lb Twisted Candle = 5C  (copper) 
2oz Medicine = 1S (silver)   
Bronze Coffer = 12S
Flour/lb = 4C     
Horse = 20GC (Gold Crown)   
Draught Horse = 10GC
Ox = 4GC   
Mule = 6GC   
Donkey = 5GC
Knife Blade = 3C
Blankets = 12C
Mail Hauberk = 30GC
10z silk = 2C 
Wine/qrt = 2C
Lance Head = 4C
Stirrups = 3C
Mirror = 1S 
Paper/ream = 3GC

Relations of the Races

Humans and Elves have a history of not getting along. There have  been many wars fought between the two races and only in the more recent ones have the humans taken the upper hand - pushing the Elves deep into their forests - forests that no Human dares to go uninvited.

Relations are strained at the best of times, and the half-breeds are often looked at with disdain and are mistreated. They are viewed as filthy crossbreeds by both races and are often shun or kicked out by their communities. Even so, some areas are more open to the mixed species and there are even small communities of Elves living among humans - namely as Artisans skilled in their professions.

[MagicalPen]

Into the Unknown

Connor stood in the middle of the small ferry, the reigns to his horse held loosely in his gloved hand. His hood was pulled close to not only hide his identity but provide him with warmth. Beads of water collected on its outside from the heavy fog that covered the river and its banks. The sun was yet to rise and burn it off.

The far bank was his destination and the Red Falcon Inn beyond that. That was where he was meeting those that would accompany him on his adventure. The Northern Wilds lay not more than a few hundred feet beyond the Red Falcon Inn and many that had entered it had never returned.

Like his father.

His father had led the 13th Legion into those very same woods, on a morning much like this; a wetness to the air, a heavy fog making it nearly impossible to see your own hand in front of your face. An eerie silence, not a breeze to be felt. They had walked into the mists and that was the last anyone had seen of the 13th.

And now it was Connor who was going to follow in his fathers footsteps, only not leading a Legion but leading a small party of has-beens and have-nots, who have nothing left to live for. Venturing more than a day or two into these Northern Wilds meant that you’d never be coming back. The few that had returned were stark raving mad. It was a death sentence, going out beyond where even the trappers felt safe.

But Connor really had no choice. His head had a price on it, his family...his family name was dishonored and it was left only to him to restore that honor by finding the Legion, but bringing his father home, by solving the greatest mystery and defeat of the Empires history.

The ferryman continued to pull on the rope, guiding the ferry through the fog and treacherous White River until it bumped against the dock on the shallows of the other side. Connor led his horse off the ferry and along the dirt path towards one of the few permament structures on the North Bank - the Red Flacon Inn. He was to meet everyone inside and the thought of warming up by the fire greatly appealed to him.




The 13th Legion lives on in infamy. A full Legion of soldiers from Ribenheim, mustering at the end of the known world - Tetrarch. A town that had its beginnings as a Fur Trappers Post. It lays on a bend in the White River, far to the North, on the edge of the Wilds. Tetrarch happens to lie on the only place the White River is fordable - by ferry - for hundreds of miles. Rumors of Lost Cities of Gold and creatures never before seen have long drawn people to Tetrarch. Hunters make their living off the Wilds to the North of the River, though have grown wise, not venturing too deep into the Dark forest.

It was upon these rumors that the 13th Legion was sent to Tetrarch, with a contingent of Rangers, to lay claim to the Wilds in the North. Those who were there, those 12 years ago, long remember the morning that the 13th embarked on their journey. Banners flying high, it took nearly a week for the whole Legion to cross by ferry. Their encampment on the North Bank was far larger then the city proper itself and they left a legacy with the Camp Followers left behind.

On the trumpets call, the 13th Marched off into the Mists that fateful day, one by one disappearing into the trees. Nothing has been heard of - or seen - the 13th Legion since. Their fate a mystery that has haunted the region ever since, fueling rumors and myths that have drawn many Adventurers to Tetrarch in hopes of making a discovery. But those who venture into the Deep Woods are never seen of again. Those who do make it back are raving mad and usually die soon after. Whatever is out there is still a mystery though many still head off, seeking fame and fortune.

Tetrarch has always been a place where the unwanted and undesirable have fled too. It is one of the rare places that the Kingdom has little reach, being so isolated and so far to the North. Its a place where you go to get away, though the place has started to grow again recently, drawing more attention to itself as a place in the Kingdom and not just some fur traders outpost.

In the Red Falcon Inn, rumors are spreading of a man seeking to put together a small Party, to head off into the Wilds on what some would say is a Fools Errand, looking for the 13th Legion and any other riches for the taking. Its a death sentence, the rumors go, for anyone who takes part, just like the rest of such adventure seekers.





What am I looking for?
-People with great backgrounds to their characters.
-People need to sell me on their character - why are they here? What compels them? Because your character is awesome!
-Low Levels of Magic - I would like if only a FEW people (IE. 1 - 2 other people) possessed any innate abilities. This needs to also be shown in your background. Magic is RARE - the entire party will not be magic users!
-Interesting characters who have nothing to lose and everything to gain by going on this fatal quest.
-Keep the backstory of this game in mind. Adventuring into the Wilds is a death sentence - why is your character doing so?

[MagicalPen]

Character Creation Guide:

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[float=left][img padding=12 width=250]IMG HERE[/img][/float]
[b]Character Name:[/b]
[b]Character Age:[/b]
[b]Character Race:[/b]
[b]Character Profession:[/b]


[b]Background:[/b]

[b]Personality:[/b]

[b]Major Skills:[/b]
[b]Minor Skills:[/b]
[b]Innate Abilities:[/b]

[b]Additional Information/Secrets:[/b]

You need to convince me that your character would sign up for a quest like this.

ALL CHARACTER SHEETS NEED TO BE SENT TO ME VIA PM. If they are not in the correct format or posted here, they will be IGNORED.

[MagicalPen]

Accepted Characters:

Connor O'Fearghail

Name: Connor O'Fearghail
Age: 24 Years Old
Race: Human
Profession: 'Assassin' - term used lightly.

Background: Connor comes from a mixed background. Born to Nobility, he was given an education from an early age. He can read and write, do math, and speak three languages including Common. And he has kept this knowledge secret for most of his life. He received weapons training as well - mostly with Sword and Bow. As a youngster, he could often be found practicing his Archery and joining the Hunters out in the woods, where he learned how to track and trap, along with stalking his prey. Little did he know how useful these skills would become for him.

He was always destined for the Legion, like his father, and as he neared his twelfth birthday, he knew that it would be only another 2 short years before he'd be able to join and receive proper training. However, that all changed in a cruel twist of faith. His father was the Commanding Officer of the 13th Legion and upon his disappearance, things quickly spiraled out of control for Connor and his family. People cursed his name and spat at him in the streets and the family name was forever tarnished, tarnished by events out of his control. The servants left, not wanting to serve such an unlucky family, and soon Connor and his mother and younger brother were cast out onto the streets.

His brother only last a few months, his mother a few more months after that, leaving Connor all on his own. He quickly fell in with a gang of street urchins, fighting for every crumb of bread. By the time he was 14, he had grown adept at stealing and had become hardened to street life, realizing that there weren't any rules when it came to fighting. Following rules meant the difference between life and death. Over the next 4 years he began to rise through the ranks in the Underground World - a world as dangerous as it is mysterious for those on the outside. It was during these years that his innate abilities began to surface - or become noticed. He was deadly accurate with a bow, eerily consistent in fact, and seemed to be able to sense when some one nearby possessed magical abilities.

Both of these facts aided him in his new profession - combined with the skills he had learned on the Streets, and what little training in tactics and fighting as a youth, combined with his education - that of an Assassin. It was work that came easy to him, feeding the hatred he felt towards those that had shunned him into his tasks, he quickly excelled in his role. It paid well on top of everything as well but came with its own dangers. One could slip while climbing along the rooftops, or be cornered by guards. Or an Assassin could run afoul with the Guild and find a contract out on their head as well.

From the age of 18 - 22, Connor was at the height of his game and feel ever further into a deadly game. His jobs quickly shifted from Guild Warfare and small time targets to the big leagues - contracts taken out by one noble against another. Here, treading carefully was the only way to survive, but soon Connor's name grew - the Shadow, as he was called, due to his uncanny stealth and impossible shots that he made, along with his ability to avoid detection by those with magic. But with great Fame comes great Danger and it wasn't long before Connor discovered that a contract was out for him.

Connor had remained friendly to those who had shown him kindness and knew that gifting the street urchins that he had run along with as a youngster was a good way to get information that was otherwise hard to obtain. They were also good at creating distractions for him and seemed to know things before anyone else did. It was through the Urchins that he first learned that a contract was out for his head and he ambushed the Assassin sent to kill him, hoping the rest would get the message. But for people in that line of work, danger was half the fun, and being able to claim the head of one of the most feared Assassins in recent memory would be a great honor indeed.

Connor managed to stay in the city for a few more months, fending off the attacks that became more frequent. Soon enough, though, the city was far too dangerous for him to remain in, especially at night. He made one last hurrah, assassinating the head of the Guild he had once worked for in an attack that would forever live on in legend. Instead of calming things down, though, it stirred a hornets nest. During the night that would be forever remembered as 'The Flight of the Shadow', Connor escaped what seemed like every Assassin, Cuthroat, and Guild Member in the city looking for him.

It was certainly a close thing, though he'd never admit it. Connor hit the road running and has never stayed in one place for too long, least his past finally catch up to him. But now that he is on his own, he has been able to learn more about his father and the rumors that swirl about the 13th Legion. With a full coin purse, and taking on the occasional job along the way, Connor has made it to Tetrarch - the last place he ever imagined himself going to - and has decided to put some distance between himself and his enemies by heading out into the Wilds. Why not search for his father and the legion, perhaps adding another ounce of Legend to 'the Shadow of Ribenheim' while he is at it?

Personality: Connor is wary of strangers - for good reason - and is rather cautious in new places. Old habits die hard and he is always on guard, only ever half asleep with one eye open and a dagger within reach of his hands. Despite this, there is also a hint of nobility to his hard shell, charismatic and charming while also intelligent and friendly. He values loyalty above all else but knows all too well that too much fame can break such loyalty.

Major Skills: Stealth Skills (Sneak, Climbing, Hide), Archery, Swordsmanship
Minor Skills: Alchemy, Acrobatics
Innate Abilities: True Shot, Detect Magic

Character Items:

Additional Information:

Ser Albrecht von Ravensburg

Character Name: Albrecht Von Ravensburg
Character Age: 37 years old
Character Race: human
Character Profession: knight

Background: Albrecht comes from the River Lands, the wide, rich plains dotted with forests, where an unsteady Emperor wages war against land hungry neighbor kings and struggles to keep his crown far from the grasping hands of his own nobles. His father was the second son of Hermann the Fair, loved and respected Baron of Ravensburg, and he was raised, during an unusual time of peace, as a young noble should. He learned his letters and his numbers, heraldry and religion, hunting with the bow and with the falcon, riding and proper bearing, but mostly, fitting a warlike country like the River Lands he was carefully, deeply and thoroughly instructed in the art of fighting. He became proficient with many a weapon, albeit mostly with the long sword, he learned to use a shield and to maximize the protection that an armor grants.

He was a merry boy, then a serene young knight, displaying his prowess at jousts and melees, winning some honors and prizes. Then his grandfather passed away and his uncle Dieter became the new Baron. The lands of Ravensburg weren't extensive, and his uncle wasn't the wise, clever ruler Hermann the Fair had been. He was greedy, proud and resentful, and before Albrecht turned 16, his home land was again at war: since he was a very talented and skilled knight now, he had to forget his jousting lance and seize his war weapons.

In the following years, warring in blood and mud, Albrecht point of view on knighthood changed, slowly, but unremittingly. Defending children, women and weak people became impossible, championing justice and truth showed useless, warring with honor and loyalty was proven dangerous and reprehensible. He fought for his uncle the Baron, for his Emperor, then for a king who wanted a rich port city, then to recapture lands, and so on. He sadly realized that every time he was called to war for the sake of justice, honor or some other high virtue, it was just a mask behind which hid the voracious greed of men. He became a remarkable, fearsome warrior, but a jaded, cynical and bitter man.

When he was 33, some kind of bloodstained peace was imposed on the River Lands, and he rode back to his neglected family - yes, he had married twelve years before and sired a couple of daughters - hoping for a little rest. He spent some serene years, ruling his small stronghold and his tiny village, caring for his wife and watching his girls grow. Sometimes people came to visit him, mostly young knight eager to learn something from the famous warrior or old comrades who wanted to share tales and mulled wine. His older daughter got happily married with a fine young man and moved to his mansion, far away on the sea. Life was looking better. Then he made a dire mistake.

A very rich noblewoman who lived a couple of days from his family's lands was charged with the poisoning of her husband. Albrecht was sure it was a fabrication: the husband at issue was a good, nice man, but sickly, and dangerously prone to lung illnesses, he died in his bed, burning with fever, coughing blood and clutching his beloved wife's hand until his last, ragged breath. Little he knew that the fabrication was aimed at seizing her wealth and her affluent, powerful accusers couldn't care less for murder or poison. So when the desperate noblewoman asked trial by combat, he was glad to champion her. And being the knight he was, he proved her innocence with lance, sword and shield: it wasn't an easy fight, his opponent was a skilled, experienced mercenary warrior, who fought with great strength and cunning till the bitter end. At last, when the duel was over and Albrecht was grudgingly declared winner, it was the wounded, worn out mercenary who rouse his hand, smiling and muttering You fight hard, for being a pampered noble knight!»
In the following weeks, Albrecht victory turned into disaster. In the following weeks, his wife and his younger daughter disappeared without a trace and a mysterious fire burned two granaries in his village to the ground. Then his wife came back. She'd been raped and tortured and scared to death. She ran straight to the Baron, to accuse Albrecht of dark sorcery. She testified that he got his famous warrior prowess from the devils of the Abyss, in exchange for worship and regular human sacrifices, that he had sex with demonic creatures and sometimes he even surrendered her to the minions of Abyss, to torture and defile for fun. So his victory in the duel was obtained through evil magic and thus worthless: the woman he championed was indeed guilty of murder, she was burned and her riches confiscated, and Albrecht himself was a worshipper of the dark powers. He understood that he was doomed.

When the soldiers knocked down his door to throw him in jail, he was already gone, taking what he could and riding north, far from the River Lands, heading from some place where he was nobody. When he reached Tetrarch, his faithful war horse was long dead, his purse almost empty and his soul burdened by regrets. He decided to answer the call for the Northern Wilds expedition with a twofold hope: if he earns a lot of money, maybe he can go back home and put things straight; if he gets killed, at least he'll know some peace.

Personality: Albrecht Von Ravensburg used to be a honorable, loyal, brave knight. And somehow he still keeps faith in his old ideals. But now this side of him is buried deep under a thick layer of pain. He's a jaded, cynical, bitter warrior, who cares very little about his own life. Despite his best efforts, he wasn't able to protect the ones he loved, so he's very careful not to grow close to anyone.

Major Skills: weapon and shield fighting, two handed weapon fighting, riding, jousting.
Minor Skills: heraldry, falconry, first aid, weapon repair.
Innate Abilities: resistance to mind affecting spells and powers, fearless.

Mutt Sparkeeper

Character Name: Mutt Sparkkeeper
Character Age: 28 years (egads!)
Character Race: Goblin
Character Profession: Torchbearer, Secretkeeper, and 'Elder' of the Kurras Outlet


Background:
Born to a tribe of faux-pyromancers, Mutt was quickly submerged in a fascination of fire and flames. A prodigy of his (close-proximity) people, he acquired his first set of flint and steel soon after being able to walk, and began collecting, crafting, and repairing torches for the tribe. His initial hobby soon sparked an interest from the tribe elders at the time, as they noticed torches that Mutt tended to could last for hours on end, and they would dry in minutes if quenched. Not long after this realization was made, he became the tribe Torchbearer, the equivalent to a squadron's standard bearer in the eyes of this goblin tribe.

Raids and short-term wars left Mutt on the front-lines amid his peers, wielding a torch and nothing else for the longest of time. Not even a week after he began accompanying his raid brothers, he found himself a shield and used it in a manner uncommon to his tribe: defense. After returning home with either a handful of his companions or none at all, his high survival rate was recognized and he was deemed fit to also hold the title of Secretkeeper. His tribe was mostly illiterate, and passed down their lore and legends through word of mouth thus granting the need for lorekeepers and masters of secrets amid the tribe. With such an honor placed upon his head, he was no longer allowed into combat in case his luck ran short at the least opportune moment.

The years passed and he soon became an elder for outliving his peers, and becoming peer to a majority of his tribe. As he became more of a foundation to his brethren, he began to wish for the days when he was able to go out on raids in hopes of finding food or equipment for his family, so to say. His wish was granted, however, as a fledgling pack of adventurers avenged the nearby townsfolk and slew his brethren. Only one fell in battle to the goblins, unprepared and outmatched in skill, until Mutt joined the fray. Shield in hand and shield on his arm, he threw himself into the midst of the small adventuring party. Almost immediately his blade was broken in two, but his retaliation cut the elbow of his assailant to the bone before he rolled aside and grabbed the first solid object he could find. It was a torch, discarded by the first fallen adventurer. Upon retrieval the torch blaze sent out a small pulse of heat, and when Mutt charged the only adventurer still wielding a weapon, he struck the armored creature in the center of his chest. The flames took on a mind of their own, biting past the metal plating and crawling up along Mutt's arm, leaving ember and charred flesh to his elbow. As the adventurer cried out while ablaze, Mutt was left dumbfounded as he looked upon his most recent feat.

However, as he searched the camp for survivors, he found that only he and those who were too weak to move had remained, the others having abandoned their tribe. Over the course of the next winter, he was the only goblin of his tribe to survive, and with no life to live amid his own people, he began wandering the world. Soon, he became an adventurer for his own sake, putting food in his stomach and torches in his bag. He also became acquainted with oil and its flammable qualities, as well as lanterns and how to craft them. As such, Mutt began traveling specifically from city to city, fixing lanterns and crafting torches for travelers along the way to his unknown destination.

It was only a matter of time before he found himself hunted by the adventurer who survived the raid on the goblin encampment. As such, he ran as far as he thought he could to avoid the ire of the one who's sword arm he took from him. As such, Mutt found himself in the Red Falcon Inn, and acts as a runner for the trappers.

Personality:
Mutt has always been a curious creature, even for goblins. However, his curiosity overrides his fear, which is a rare thing for his kind. Even in the face of fear, he finds comfort in the closest flame, which is normally is the torch in his hand making him seem fearless for most observers. However, it becomes apparent that he's a normal goblin when frantically trying to light a quenched torch, or when a campfire is doused. In turn, he believes fire to be a living creature that shouldn't be abused, and doesn't believe that quenching a torch to be the right way to put out the fire, sand or a thick cloth is his preferred method.

Outside of that glaring personality, he's selfish and impatient. He only takes another person's consideration if they are a goblin or they haven't gotten on his bad side, which almost every non-goblin starts on his bad side. The only reason he even helps someone is if he needs the opportunity, and not out of the kindness of his heart.

Major Skills: Improvised Weaponry, Surviving (Defensive Combat, Hunting, Gathering)
Minor Skills: Torch/Lantern Crafting, Lorekeeping
Innate Abilities: Torches last longer and burn just a bit brighter when held. Striking an object or creature with a torch ignites flammables on Mutt and his target.

Character Items:
x1 Bag of Torches (holds 15)
x1 Pouch of Oil Flasks (holds 5)
x1 Large Metal Shield (Small shield for a human)
x1 Fire-treated Leather Armor
Flint and Steel Kit (contained in separate pouch)
x1 Bag of Coins (holds 42 Coppers)
x1 Skull Helmet
x1 Belt pouch of Oiled Rags (wax sealed)
x1 Ball of Twine (100 foot length)
x1 Fish Hook (Crude quality, kept on ear as a piercing)
x1 Metal-cast lantern (Ring on top, with metal hood)
x1 Dogslicer



Additional Information/Secrets:

Yen Rolfson

Character Name: Yen Rolfson
Character Age: 41
Character Race: Human
Character Profession: Formerly a fisherman, then a bodyguard, now a hobo


Background: Yen was born in Tetrarch on a rather normal day in the early summer, a week after the last snow.  His father was a hunter who prowled the fringes of the Wilds, his mother a housewife and fisherwoman trawling the White River.  Yen spent his early years in the prow of his mother's fishing boat, riding on the ferry, or crawling along the shore waiting for her return.

Life in Tetrarch was harsh.  Fortunately the Northmen who resided there were harsher.  Babies were weaned off mother's milk within months and fed mashed potatoes sprinkled with ground meat and egg yolks until they could chew properly.  Children would run around stark naked in air that would freeze a Dar'Lukan's prick off.  Many children died before their third birthday, but those who survived were hardy and durable.  Many Northmen survived well into their twilight years, whittled and hardened by the brutal northern climate.

Yen himself grew from a large red-faced babe into a large red faced man, covered in coarse hair and standing several fingers over two meters, tall even for a Northman.  He was boisterous and good natured, a favorite amongst his peers (especially the women).  When his mother's joints were too swollen and stiff to pull in the fishing nets, Yen took over the boat at the ripe age of 14 while his mother retired to their house to raise his two younger brothers.

Tetrarch was a small outpost, and so the arrival of the 13th Legion when Yen was 29 was a momentous occasion.  Yen lent his fishing boat to aid in ferrying the soldiers across, and his younger brothers joined as conscripts, working as laborers to maintain the massive baggage train that accompanied so many soldiers.  Having saved up a small mountain of salted fish in anticipation of their arrival, Yen proceeded to make (what he considered) a small fortune selling them to the Legion.

Then the Legion left, with Yen's brothers and Yen's fish, and never returned.

The years passed slowly.  Old men swung their canes and proclaimed that they knew the Legion was doomed the moment the first soldier stepped beneath the trees.  No one could brave the Wilds.  Formerly a stalwart purist, Yen began taking refuge in the bottle.  His skill at fishing was undiminished, but he began developing eccentricities: moments where he'd stare off into nothing, responding to words that no one spoke, and the rare seizure.  Once his wife found out, she left him, fearing that he was cursed by some affliction that she may catch.  The rest of the town was more rational, but Yen slowly grew to become a recluse and an outcast.

One night four years ago, he vanished into the Wilds.  Yen does not remember why or for how long.  It may have been one of his "mindless" moments, where his body acted while his mind was absent, or perhaps he was simply drunk.  Regardless, he was gone for three days.  When he returned, he was subtly mad (although the seizures were gone).  He no longer remembered how to operate his fishing boat, and even developed an irrational fear of the water.  He slept with his eyes open, or perhaps simply stared into the distance for several hours; no one could tell the difference.  Yen meticulously maintained a small bald spot on the front left of his scalp, a patch of ruddy skin amidst a tangled mess of red hair.  "That's where [insert name of deity of madness/jubilee] put my mark," he would cheerfully chirp.

When prompted, he would talk about mad things: immense cities of sand inhabited by salmon, a clearing where the moon gleams above while the sun shines below, upside down trees, elementals made of snow and blood, a dragon the size of his thumb and yet larger than any mountain, and other fanciful nonsense.  However, Yen was still functional.  He could hold a simple conversation (although he wouldn't like it), prepare a meal (he uses so much spicing that anyone else would find it inedible), repair clothing (but he never remembers doing so), and perform other mundane tasks.  He began training with a club, chasing down rocks and breaking branches over them.

The most pronounced change was in his mood.  Some days he was talkative and amiable, others angry and insulting.  Yen could be fighting a man in a tavern one moment, then hugging and crying on his shoulder the next, mumbling about how he was so sorry about the forks he stole from those squirrels.  Paranoia was a constant.  He would confide in people, animals, and inanimate objects that everyone was out to get him.  "I'm only here for a short while longer, Chen," he said to the dead squirrel.  "These Tetrarchian bastards won't get me.  If you're wise, you'll come with."

Yen was not the only madman in town, but he was the "friendliest" to outsiders.  Adventurers, explorers, and other would-be conquerors of the Wilds were often directed to Yen before they set off to the North.  The townsfolk hoped that he would alarm them with his madness and convince them not to go.  Instead, Yen simply begged them to go ahead with their plans with such urgency and frightening conviction that many gave up and turned back to the south.

After his foray into the wilds, Yen made a living as a bodyguard, protecting the merchant caravans that arrived to trade with the local hunters and fur traders.  His large size and formidable strength made him intimidating, but his tenure was short lived.  After a robber convinced Yen that he was simply a squirrel disguised as a human so he could recover his stolen nuts, no merchant would hire him again.

One consistency in Yen's madness has been his conviction that he would one day have to return to the Wilds in order to do... something.  The something changed on a daily basis, often accompanied by Yen triumphantly announcing that he had finally figured it out.  However, when invited to accompany someone has protection, Yen would always turn them down.  "The past is not yet ready," he would say.

It was only when Connor arrived that Yen decided the past was ready.

Personality: Highly variable.

Major Skills:
- Skinning, tracking, fire making, foraging, woodsmanship, and other natural survival skills
- Clubs, hitting things with clubs, making clubs, and other club related skills
- Intimidation (often unintentional)
- Holding his liquor
- Preparing fish
Minor Skills:
- Endurance (cold, hunger, exhaustion)
- Singing
- Cooking (just don't let him get his hands on any spices or salt)
Innate Abilities:
- Talking with squirrels (or so he claims)
- "Seeing upside down, inside out, and through nothing"

Items:
Fairly heavy club fashioned from a pine tree branch
-- Standard set of winter clothes
-- A skinning knife
-- An "empty" burlap sack

Additional Information/Secrets:

Tazara Nejem

Character Name: Tazara Nejem
Character Age: 25
Character Race: Human
Character Profession: Thief


Background:
Tazara had grown up in a very happy household in the Sands of Dar’Luka, with her parents, 3 brothers, and 1 sister. They lived on the north west side of smugglers bay. Her family was in the business of silk and spent quite a good amount of their time dying and selling it. It was not, however, their only business. Besides working with silk they also made poisons. With wars, and magic all around, people always looked for an edge. Her family had it. They knew how to craft so many things and with a ship they could gather ingredients that did not grow naturally in their homeland.

But of course these two things were not always helping with income. Sometimes ingredients were hard to find, sometimes the economy would go down for luxury items such as silk so her and her family… improvised. They would con, steal, and could generally be described as cutpurses. They would travel to their usual ports and if sales were not up, each of them had a role to play in helping make up for that. Although her mother stayed home to work there and take care of the youngest daughter until she was old enough to travel. For their tactics, they usually just had some type of distraction, sometimes her brothers juggling swords for an audience and then she and her siblings would pick pockets while people were distracted. As she got older and became a woman, she would dance and was very good at it, and it could be quite distracting for audiences. At their most desperate she would seduce wealthy men into a bed, put a sleeping powder into his drink, and then rob him blind.

Her father also taught all of them to defend themselves. If you were going to steal, you had to know how to fight and get away. Because of that she was quite good with daggers, and the ability to evade attacks and traps. She couldn’t use a bow to save her life but knives, daggers, and the ability to run and jump had saved her butt many times.

Their strategies had worked for years. They were fair to other locals and families around the docks in their hometown and they were very well liked. They never hoarded wealth and any extra they had, they would give to those in true need. Eventually her oldest brother got his own ship, got married, and he and his wife kept a spice and smuggling trade. Times were going well and her father was looking to retire and her second oldest brothers (twins) were slowly taking on the family business. She continued cooking poisons, finding new recipes, making new elixirs, and helping her mother dye the silks.

At the age of 23, things soon went downhill as a new man came into town. He walked straight into their family home and demanded to know where Maimun, one of her twin brothers was. He had made promises to very powerful people that had fallen through, promises of more poisons, potions, and elixirs than they could make. He had convinced them to pay him upfront and he would make the delivery up north in one month. Maimun had scammed them. What he didn’t realize was that he had scammed an assassins guild who did not take this lightly. A price was put on each of their heads and the man, who never gave his name, and would not take any offer their father made to him in exchange for his children’s lives, burned their homes and told them to run. It would be more fun that way.

So they ran. A friend smuggled them to the Islands of the free cities and from there they said their goodbyes and took separate ships to different countries and cities. None of them knew where the others were going and Tazara went far, far north. A place she would never want to go and assumed no one would ever look for her. For the next 2 years she kept her head down, and used the skills she had accrued over the years to keep herself alive and hidden. She still attempted to make poisons and desperately wished she could return to a land that was not so damn cold.

She was moving around often and found herself eventually in the farthest north she had ever been, Tetrarch. She kept hearing rumors about some group that was being put together and decided it was something worth hearing about. Maybe it could help keep her hidden better, and earn her some more money then just stealing and the occasional sold poison.



Personality: Tazara has charm to burn. She is kind, but when it comes to self preservation at this point, or the safety of her family, she is ruthless. Staying hidden is priority one, and due to being on her own she was grown a bit colder and more suspicious.
Major Skills: Craft: Poisons, Craft: Elixirs (very minor health potion, sleeping, awakening, really little stuff), Dancing, Evading/Dexterity (fast runner, jumping/climbing, etc.)
Minor Skills: Sewing, Fighting (hand to hand, with daggers), Swimming, Sailing (seamanship)
Innate Abilities: Negotiating, Distraction, Slight of Hand

Character Items:
All items organized and arranged in a single large bag.
Set of clothing (shirt, pants, under garments) x2
Leather Boots x1
Dance Costume (skirt, top, silks, bells/other adornments, shoes, veil, etc.) x1
Lock pick set x1
Small mortar and pestle x1
Empty vials (small) x3
Vials containing powder/liquid poison x2 (fluctuates, usually no more than 6)
Daggers with sheaths and leg/boot straps x2
Coin purse (holds roughly 50 coppers) x1 (sometimes she “finds” more purses)
Silk Head Scarf x2
Poison rings x3
Set of gold earrings x 2
Small locket necklace x1
Hairbrush x1

[Question Mark]

A vast unexplored wilds harboring unknown horrors?

Adventurers being driven stark raving mad?

A small cadre of unknowns with nothing left to live for?

Certain death?

I'm down.  I'll think up a character soon and PM it to you.

[Metro Mech]

In the wilds like there is no hell or heavens to return to, with death nipping at our heels. This is the life of an adventurer and an adventurer I will be. With a sword to guide my path and my wits to keep me alive I will go into the darkness called the wilds. With little chance to return I will make my mark on the world and find what was mine.

My character has been PMed to you

[Nameless One]

Of course my good old Albrecht is still interested.

[Question Mark]

"The past is ready.  Squirrel, fetch me my club."

Yen Rolfson's app has been submitted.

[Metro Mech]

By the gods that is, the high elves are at the ready to fight

Mine is ready as well

[dready]

A torchbearer has joined the fray!

Pm has been sent.

[MagicalPen]

*beats Dready like a War Drum*

Haven't looked at any of the submitted characters yet (in depth, at least) but they all seem to be magical peeps (despite me asking that not everyone is magical!) - any volunteers to 'lose' their magical abilities. Sir Albrechts I would not quite classify as Magical - more of a mental toughness sort of thing. I do believe everyone else has listed some sort of magical stuff though?

[Question Mark]

*beats Dready like a War Drum*

Haven't looked at any of the submitted characters yet (in depth, at least) but they all seem to be magical peeps (despite me asking that not everyone is magical!) - any volunteers to 'lose' their magical abilities. Sir Albrechts I would not quite classify as Magical - more of a mental toughness sort of thing. I do believe everyone else has listed some sort of magical stuff though?

...my dude's not magical.  Just insane.

[Metro Mech]

mine isn't magical just looks like he is

[dready]

I was under the impression that minor things that most people wouldn't notice were common. o H o

[Nameless One]

You're right, my character isn't magical at all.

[Metro Mech]

I will volunter to be non-magical

[MagicalPen]

Working my way through the profiles.

Added Dreadys.

[Metro Mech]

So do you want me to still do that what I said above?

[CrazyIvan]

I am interested in joining if you are still looking for people, though would people mind if I try and make a magic character, or all the slots taken of that type or in general?

[MagicalPen]

I am waiting for Question Mark to submit a picture.

Otherwise, you're free to shoot me a PM with your proposed character. I'll tell you if it fits - just make sure you've read the information in this post.

For everyone who has been accepted, I'd appreciate it if you follow Dready's lead and write up an items list your character is taking with them.

Also - where are the ladies at?

[Question Mark]

Oh, you actually want me to find a picture?  Oh boy, this will probably take a while, all things considered, and I'd honestly prefer not to have to sift through dozens of images of crazy Norsemen to find one that fits my description of Yen.  Is it possible to accept the application as it is, considering it's pretty much complete?

Here's his list of items...
-- Fairly heavy club fashioned from a pine tree branch
-- Standard set of winter clothes
-- A skinning knife
-- An "empty" burlap sack

[MagicalPen]

I like having visual references for every character, and it keeps all the profiles looking neat and pretty.

[Metro Mech]

Well can I be accepted since no one has come of late?

[Nymphadora]

I'm watching and working on a CS for this!  Nice looking world creation.

[Miroque]

You got PM...