[CHAR] Prithvi: Non combat RP. Under construction....

[Markofkri]

Sample
NO GOD MAKING OR SPECIAL POWERS THE CREATIVE PROCESS IS HERE FOR YOUR APPERANCE THANK YOU

Name: Race: Age: Class: Combat style: melee/ranged/magic/ none your a preist
Pic/character description/equipment
short bio:
motivation:
skills: max 12 to start you will learn more as you progress
Races include but not limited to the constructs in Ebberon.
That's it, based on your character there will be allowances (max3)for water breathing speaking with chosen life form subtype night vision/dark vision ect.
Possible classes: shaman, knight/samurai, paladin, rouge, ranger, priest, cleric, druid, monk, sorcerer, wizard, caster berserker/barbarian scholar bard engineer alchemist others will be accepted on a case by case basis.
NPC classes: assassin, lich, necromancer, fighter/gladiator, warlock, you get the idea.
I reserve the right to refuse entry to anyone. Sorry anyone you know what you did.

[Markofkri]

Name: Captain Joan Race: human Age: mid none of your business Class:Rouge Combat style: Dirty



"I cant remember the last time I was in a tighter spot. A bead of sweat reluctantly slid off my cheek. I was in the bar after close when they came in. Three of the most deadly cutthroats I ever saw. Sat down at a corner table and smelled of the sea. They ordered me to get a pitcher of the houses finest and 4 mugs. When I returned one of the sea devils pushed out a chair with his peg leg. Naturally I sat down. The men poured a drink for themselves and slid a cup over my way."

"What be ye name?"

"Joan." I said.

The beasts nodded, "Ever gamble with yer life, Joan?"

"I work here don't I?" I took a drink since these dogs paid for the good stuff.

Grins all around, between the three of them they had half a set of teeth. The holes were filled with gold replicas. "Well Joan of the Tavern Gillius. We arr men of chance, Captians of fate as it were. We need a fourth to make this night fair." One slid a hand to the inside of his coat to pull out a deck of cards. "We have a treasure to be sure and cant decide who it should go to. So we arr going to setting the debt right here, right now."

The game went late into the night and so did the drinking. At the suns first light the game consisted of me, old one eye, and "Peg". The fourth hit a bottle on top of the half a dozen pitchers and passed out, slid right out of his chair.

"Your call Joan." Eyes narrowed.

I raised and looked to my left. Old one eye looked at me. "You'll not be taken this hand with out a fight." and pushed all his coin in.
"If its a fight yer looking fer, I will aim to give one." Said Peg as he too pushed all his coin into the center of the table.
The hand I dropped would kill a weaker person. Might of killed me too.

Peg sprung to his feet, "So be it." Grabbing their fallen Captain the three left before the regulars came in. She slid all the coin into her apron. To the left of the chair where the light weight sat was a satchel. Joan opened it to see if it had anything worth keeping. it was a wooden scroll case with the deed inside to "The Gail"....

"A SKY GALLY CLASS?!" Great now all I need is a crew and someone to teach me how to sail....."Groan"

Motivated by greed
Skills: bribe/sense motive/ persuasion/ sleight of hand/ hide/ poison/ listen/open lock/ search

[Markofkri]

Name:Akecheta Race: human tribal Age32 Class: ranger Combat style: sniper



I will never forget the day when my life changed forever. When they came and killed my tribe. We had no defenses against their sheer numbers. They attacked in the night killing many of us. I watched as they dragged my mother away. My father put my brother and I on a horse and had my brother ride us far from the camp. My father rode along side making sure we got through the enemy line by stopping and drawing their ire. My brother continued to ride keeping me safe..... We never made it to the next tribe because 'they' were already burning the homes. My brother rode east. Trying to keep me quiet as we rode. Not knowing if anyone else made it out alive we rode for days no food little rest the horse died of exhaustion. We continued on foot.

Then after we could endure no more, we stopped and made camp. My older brother found food and I was grateful for him. We missed our tribe, our parents, but we did not cry. We sat silent sure they would come. I awoke to find my brother talking to a woman clad in moss and dark leather. He said she would teach me the way to live. That I should carry on the traditions of our tribe and to find others like us and warn them of the danger. The woman said my brother would need rest now. She lied.

Motivation: Actively seeks out any orc and kills them on sight After learning the other tribes were enslaved or eaten Akecheta being the sole survivor lives in the wilds.

Skills: Track/ survival/ craft leather/ swimming/ ride/ herbalism/ cooking/ move silently/ spot/ hide
Other: speaks common elven

[Markofkri]

King: Brole Bronzbain Race Dwarf Age 85 Class: Smith/engineer


The great war was a terrible toll for the dwarven people. Too munch was lost for so little gained. Brole swore to never again shed dwarven blood. It was only in that dark armory did we find our new calling to evolve our skill of smithing to the engineering that save us all. Losing his right arm while holding the armory door open for his men.

King Bronzbain now has a metal arm not grafted into his shoulder but instead his armor. The shoulder has a metal cap inscribed with runes to send his will into his machine. He holds the last Dwarven stronghold in the underdark. Which is also the only safe path from the underdark to the surface.

[Markofkri]

Name Fiora Sabariel Age 112 Class Geographer/druid

My Hider

[Markofkri]

....under construction....