Question. Do you allow multiclassing? For example, could a Sword know spells like Stone Skin or Weapon Bond in order to facilitate her Swording?
Hi, btw.
Hi, btw.
[OOC] Dungeon Clearer! The Wonderful World of an Adventurer Page 6
- Large Group
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- Anime/Manga
- GM VitaVitaAR Co-GM Raineh Daze
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Myrna Minkoff
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4 yrs ago
GM
VitaVitaAR King of Knights
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4 hrs ago
@Myrna Minkoff: Yes, it's about where your character focuses, it doesn't limit them to only that.
1x Thank
Myrna Minkoff
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4 yrs ago
Ok. I might not even need multiclassing but I'm still exploring my options.
Another question. Do we already know each other and travel together or are group(s) being formed at the start of the roleplay?
Another question. Do we already know each other and travel together or are group(s) being formed at the start of the roleplay?
coGM
Raineh Daze Figure of Hourai
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23 hrs ago
Well, everyone is already signed up as adventurers, so there's no reason they could all be strangers (especially with people being about the same ability level), but it's not like there's a fixed party requirement.
Not a good reason to be undead, no. Particularly as undead might not look undead but it wouldn't take months to realise "wait, I don't need food or rest".
Damn, there goes that idea. My original plan was to create a sentient undead that woke up in a field a while back with no memory of their former life, not even realising their undead nature for the first few months after awakening, given sapient undead look like normal people as far as I can tell. The idea was to have their inability to find out who they were previously and the realisation that it really doesn’t matter be the basis for their personality and the lack of memories being their drive for becoming an adventurer. Unfortunately, that’s more of a character gimmick than a good reason to play a sapient undead, so I don’t suppose that’d be acceptable? Figured I'd check anyway.
@VitaVitaAR@Raineh Daze
Not a good reason to be undead, no. Particularly as undead might not look undead but it wouldn't take months to realise "wait, I don't need food or rest".
HereComesTheSnow dehydration expert
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12 hrs ago
Is there a party registration system, or is joint tackling of quests and subsequently rewards simply handled on an adventurer level?
GM
VitaVitaAR King of Knights
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4 hrs ago
@HereComesTheSnow: You register your party before accepting a job.
chad dog
Name:
Rex of Calthir
Age:
16
Gender:
Male
Race:
Hundi
Rank:
4 of Swords
i.pinimg.com/originals/7d/b5/3b/7db53…
chad dog
edit: definitely did not forget to put the rank what are you even talking about
edit2: borgar
edit3: uhhh
edit4: Capitalization.
Basics
Name:
Rex of Calthir
Age:
16
Gender:
Male
Race:
Hundi
Rank:
4 of Swords
Appearance:
i.pinimg.com/originals/7d/b5/3b/7db53…
The first thing anyone would notice about Rex is his extraordinary physique. From his neck to his calves, Rex is nothing but unbridled muscle and testosterone. Aside from his trained body, one may also refer to his intimidating height (6’5”) and long appendages to conclude that this is one beast not worth perturbing.
Rex's eyes are somewhere between pale blue and gray and practically ooze excitement. As well, his medium length black hair sits stylishly atop his head disturbed solely by his two wolfish ears. His tail is large enough to create light gusts of wind whenever it wags.
For attire outside of battle, Rex prefers to “maximize ventilation” so-to-speak. In certain terms, Rex will wear as little clothing he can without being kicked out of the guild hall. It is not uncommon for him to forgo shirts entirely.
Personality
A kindhearted, boisterous, and vigorous character, Rex is the antithesis to his predatory appearance. He is patient, naive, and smiles wide. Rex seems to genuinely care about the people around him.
On one hand, Rex has an unfathomable quantity of energy, so much so, that even if he weren’t Hundi one may conflate him with the bombastic personality of a dog. On the other hand, his intelligence leaves something to be desired. He was never the smartest among his peers and has often relied on either luck or strength to solve his more complicated issues. As well, he is far too trusting for his own good and couldn’t lie to save his own life. Rex was neglected throughout his life, and is hypersensitive and incredibly responsive to any positive interaction. It would not be difficult for an ill-meaning party to take advantage of him.
Rex’s greatest dream is to become a legendary hero. He has a set of ideals that he believes heroes must abide by, and will often describe his behavior by claiming they were becoming of those ideals. In fact, almost all of his actions are based on what he thinks this hypothetical hero of his would do. Truthfully, Rex just wants to be friends with everyone around him and see everyone smile. His greatest fear is to be powerless when it truly counts, and strives to never find himself in that situation.
As a side note, should one be tall enough to reach, Rex is a sucker for headpats.
Brief Backstory
Especially for a race as proud as the Hundi, Rex’s upbringing was destitute from the beginning. Situated somewhere in northern Ithillin east of Calthir was a camp of cold bandits, and Rex was born the bastard son of their chief. Though cold, the bandits were not heartless, and Rex was cared for as long as it took for them to anonymously deposit him at an orphanage in Calthir. Rex’s first memories are past this point; he doesn’t even remember the face of his mother.
There, at the orphanage, Rex was nurtured past his infancy. The caretakers gave him his current name Rex. These years passed by without incident. Rather, his formative years seemed to be too bland. The dull nature of the surroundings bled into Rex and all the orphans until they themselves became dull. There may have been some form of camaraderie among the young orphans, but in their formative years, friendship was nowhere to be found. Not until they found a cause to rally behind.
The thing about genetics is that one’s progeny tends to share their progenitors traits. Rex was no exception. As he dawdled past his toddler years into his early adolescence, he began to resemble the heinous crime-lord that was his father. His mug was infamous for it’s long-standing on Calthir’s list of wanted criminals. While the resemblance was mistakable, the other kids in the orphanage did not look past this. Rex was soon met with nothing but contempt by his peers. In some semblance of morbid irony, Rex’s very ostracization was the foundation of his fellow orphan’s friendships.
It did not take long for Rex to grow restless. But rather than returning contempt with contempt, he instead was driven to succeed. His peers did not support him, so Rex soon learned to support himself. While most of the growing children made up for the orphanages meager sustenance with thieveries they shared amongst themselves, Rex found himself in servitude of a tailor who paid him with bread to sew. The tailor was all but uninterested in Rex except for his young and nimble fingers, and once Rex became eleven he was forced to seek another form of work.
This new work soon revealed itself as the loading and unloading of cargo at trade depots, a labor reserved for the degenerates who needed whatever coin that could possibly come their way. The pay was meager, the work was hard, and Rex was mistreated. But like farmers who spend endless hours working a field, Rex grew fortuitous with his endeavors. Funnily enough, the lower echelons of society were among the most accepting people Rex had met in his life. If Rex had any friends from Calthir, it was among those who toiled alongside him.
Rather than playing with other kids in his free time, Rex would linger by the guild hall where he would watch the heroes returning from their adventures. In particular among them was a human who would have may have been ranked as high as King ten had he adventures in Estival. The hero was known for his great strength, but also for his ability to make the people around him smile. Rex was fascinated by this, he had never made anyone around him smile.
As Rex grew older, he also grew startlingly large and began to stand out. His resemblance to his father only grew stronger, and people began to fear him. Even if one knew not of the notorious bandit chief that once terrorized Ithillin, Rex’s form was monstrous. Hundi did not usually come in his size, and the hard labor at the trade depots only served to exacerbate Rex’s intimidating presence. Once he was fifteen, he lost his job and was replaced.
The Smiling Hero, who was just an all aroung poggers great guy, looked past the arbitrary plot point that was Rex's scaryness and the two became acquainted during a fateful encounter at the guild hall. Being around such a dude, Rex realized that he wanted to be a hero himself one day and asked the hero to teach him how to fight. The Smiling Hero agreed and taught him some basics, allowing Rex to learn how to swing a sword. For some time this went on, until the Smiling Hero set off on a quest and never returned.
Rex grew to resent his loneliness. His sixteenth birthday was coming up, and though Rex was not part of a Hundi family and conscripted to their traditions, he decided he wished to go on his coming-of-age quest. For the first second time in his life, he considered what he dreamed for. His mind drifted to the hero who could make the people around him smile, and Rex knew what he wanted. First, he had to escape his cursed mantle and find somewhere that he could achieve such a thing. Behind him Ithillin shrunk as he traveled to Estival, leaving behind his father’s infamy and starting anew.
Equipment
Rex is in posession of a steel greatsword, purchased at discount for an amount equal to thirty dollars in our world. He also has plain garments. He is also currently broke.
Skills
- Tremendous Strength
- Rex's greatest asset is his great strength.
- Sword skills
- Rex is fluent with a sword from his practice in the Calthir guild hall. His fighting style revolves around overwhelming his foe with brute strength.
chad dog
edit: definitely did not forget to put the rank what are you even talking about
edit2: borgar
edit3: uhhh
edit4: Capitalization.
Myrna Minkoff
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
Well, here she is, if I haven't messed up the BBCodes. I'd like to drop her rank from a 4 to a 3 if possible. No biggie if that isn't doable. I just thought she'd be doing most of her jobs "off the books," if you know what I mean, and therefore she hasn't built up a lot of clout with the Guild. So if anything, her rank wouldn't even really reflect her skill level.
Age
Gender
Race
Rank
Personality
Brief Backstory
Equipment
Skills
Age
110
Gender
F
Race
Dark Elf
Rank
Four of Coins
Personality
Tuck is armed with seemingly bottomless reserves of patience, provided that those around her aren't breaking her few cardinal sins. But in turn, they will need a lot of patience to be around her for too long. See, Tuck is a drunk. And a lightweight at that. And when she drinks she gets blubbery, mopey, forcing her sappy life's story onto anyone sorry enough to want to listen.
It can be a big "if," admittedly, but if she's sober, Tuck is the picture of the picaresque. She can listen, counsel, and watch your back as well as a good friend. Though she can't fight worth a damn, she'll volunteer herself to the fore of the party, scanning for traps (and the best loot.) She can have a bit of a barbed tongue at times. She steals from the rich and gives to...well, mostly herself, but! But! Spontaneous acts of charity are not unheard of. And she never, ever steals from her own party.
What Tuck utterly lacks, however, when her thief's code isn't steering her hands away from her companions' purses, is self-control. What starts with "just one drink" with the boys invariably ends with waking up in an ever odder napping place, head pounding like a dwarfish foundry. When she discovers a new food she likes she'll eat herself sick. And for the life of her, she cannot resist a ring or a jewel-inlaid dagger if it breaks her too-pretty-I-must-have-it threshold. (Thankfully she's a bit of a connoisseur when it comes to baubles, so not anything and everything that glitters will unleash her inner klepto. Plus, she needs to stay on more-or-less good graces with the Adventuring Guild.)
Overall, she can keep some nasty company, and succumb to some nasty habits herself. But Tuck is a professional when it counts most: toeing friendships and alliances as delicately as she toes rafters and rooftops.
It can be a big "if," admittedly, but if she's sober, Tuck is the picture of the picaresque. She can listen, counsel, and watch your back as well as a good friend. Though she can't fight worth a damn, she'll volunteer herself to the fore of the party, scanning for traps (and the best loot.) She can have a bit of a barbed tongue at times. She steals from the rich and gives to...well, mostly herself, but! But! Spontaneous acts of charity are not unheard of. And she never, ever steals from her own party.
What Tuck utterly lacks, however, when her thief's code isn't steering her hands away from her companions' purses, is self-control. What starts with "just one drink" with the boys invariably ends with waking up in an ever odder napping place, head pounding like a dwarfish foundry. When she discovers a new food she likes she'll eat herself sick. And for the life of her, she cannot resist a ring or a jewel-inlaid dagger if it breaks her too-pretty-I-must-have-it threshold. (Thankfully she's a bit of a connoisseur when it comes to baubles, so not anything and everything that glitters will unleash her inner klepto. Plus, she needs to stay on more-or-less good graces with the Adventuring Guild.)
Overall, she can keep some nasty company, and succumb to some nasty habits herself. But Tuck is a professional when it counts most: toeing friendships and alliances as delicately as she toes rafters and rooftops.
Brief Backstory
"I used to be a princess." Where any inn, tavern, or public house has heard this sentence sobbed into a goblet of honeywine, Tuck must surely be a regular.
She won't say what exactly she was the princess of...she won't say who her parents were, or what her name was, regnal or otherwise, before the local thieves dubbed her "Tuck" in their strange bastard-tongue of dialects, jargons, slangs, and slurs...nevertheless, that's the story, and she's been singing it for years.
To even know the whole story one would have to have deciphered it through paragraphs and paragraphs of drunken gibberish. Then pieced together the important bits in the right sequence, peeling back any "embellishments" or half-truths. But supposedly, Tuck came from Slenxoth, a volcanic valley so deep in the Estivali highlands that it doesn't have a name in most civilized tongues. She was sired on barren earth into a society of intense scarcity, where most girls of age were expected to venture out as raiders every Spring and Autumn and bring home the riches of other elves' lands.
Supposedly, the dark elves themselves were equally perilous. Always pining for power, always currying the favor of their subterranean fire-gods, some noble house or other was always marching through the streets of their city, declaring a blood-feud against a bitter rival. If a house was utterly destroyed, it was supplanted, both in the courts and in the race's written histories. However, if even a single member of the family survived the massacre, a sort of curse, whether literal or figurative, befell the assailants: the law, the lands, the fire-gods, and even the other families agreed that the attack was unjust, because the attackers were too weak to complete their mission, or too misguided by outside evils. They, in kind, were turned upon, outlawed, and annihilated.
Supposedly, one such blood-feud was knocking on the door of Tuck's family. Her father smuggled her out of Slenxoth and sent her away. Not to protect her, but to ensure that someone could return to avenge him. Little did he know that his eldest daughter would entirely misunderstand his gesture. She has not returned to Slenxoth, not with an army, a burning desire for vengeance, or even a weapon. She has learned a trade from the ruffians and renegades who took her in. She has learned a language, and a "craft" or two, if one could generously call it such. And she has liberated a lot of noble fathers of their surplus wealth.
She won't say what exactly she was the princess of...she won't say who her parents were, or what her name was, regnal or otherwise, before the local thieves dubbed her "Tuck" in their strange bastard-tongue of dialects, jargons, slangs, and slurs...nevertheless, that's the story, and she's been singing it for years.
To even know the whole story one would have to have deciphered it through paragraphs and paragraphs of drunken gibberish. Then pieced together the important bits in the right sequence, peeling back any "embellishments" or half-truths. But supposedly, Tuck came from Slenxoth, a volcanic valley so deep in the Estivali highlands that it doesn't have a name in most civilized tongues. She was sired on barren earth into a society of intense scarcity, where most girls of age were expected to venture out as raiders every Spring and Autumn and bring home the riches of other elves' lands.
Supposedly, the dark elves themselves were equally perilous. Always pining for power, always currying the favor of their subterranean fire-gods, some noble house or other was always marching through the streets of their city, declaring a blood-feud against a bitter rival. If a house was utterly destroyed, it was supplanted, both in the courts and in the race's written histories. However, if even a single member of the family survived the massacre, a sort of curse, whether literal or figurative, befell the assailants: the law, the lands, the fire-gods, and even the other families agreed that the attack was unjust, because the attackers were too weak to complete their mission, or too misguided by outside evils. They, in kind, were turned upon, outlawed, and annihilated.
Supposedly, one such blood-feud was knocking on the door of Tuck's family. Her father smuggled her out of Slenxoth and sent her away. Not to protect her, but to ensure that someone could return to avenge him. Little did he know that his eldest daughter would entirely misunderstand his gesture. She has not returned to Slenxoth, not with an army, a burning desire for vengeance, or even a weapon. She has learned a trade from the ruffians and renegades who took her in. She has learned a language, and a "craft" or two, if one could generously call it such. And she has liberated a lot of noble fathers of their surplus wealth.
Equipment
- Lockpicks: one torsion wrench and eight picks of various sizes and shapes, all wrapped up in a folding leather case.
- More Lockpicks: Hidden in Tuck's vambraces are one more torsion wrench, and one "skeleton key," a dual-sided, multi-headed pick designed to pick any lock with a hole width of roughly 3/16 inches. Did you know that this is the most common padlock size used on Veltic jail cell doors? Tuck does.
- Rasp: a twelve-inch steel file. One side is coarse with cross-cut teeth. The other is bastard-coarse with single-cut teeth.
- Jimmy: a short crowbar, hooked at one end.
- Blackjack: a short hickory club, for knocking out windows, dazing guards...
- Knife: a shepherd's horn-handled folding knife, complete with corkscrew. It has cut more bread and cheese than throats. (It hasn't cut any throats.)
- Field Guide: a small, thick booklet containing all the information anyone could ever need or want on edible mushrooms and other fungi. This bitch loves mushrooms.
- Oil: a leather bottle filled with neatsfoot oil, used to condition leather clothing, lubricate a file, make a very tight getaway...
- Rope: forty feet of hempen rope.
- Rations: Tuck is prudent about stocking up on local non-perishables before setting off for her next destination. Anything salted, cured, pickled, dried, or lactofermented has a decent chance of winding up in her possession. At the time of writing this she is carrying a few loaves of bannock bread, mostly oat, but a few barley as well. Salmon jerky. Goat jerky. A small pot of potted beef. A wineskin filled with weakbeer.
- Mess Kit: A metal pot, with lid, containing all the essentials for cooking a fresh meal out on the trail. Contents include: flint & steel. Charcloth. A few sticks of fatwood. A small folding griddle. A bundle of cheesecloth. Wooden bowl, spoon, and cup. Iron roasting fork. A small clay pot of clarified butter, half-full. Small wooden jewelry box containing bags of salt and dried shavings of lemon rind.
- Travel Clothes: Simple, dark trappings of thin wool and overdyed leather. Tunic, pants, vambraces, belt, purses, knee-boots. Tuck wears the blacks, browns, and deep purples well.
- Backup Shoes (w/ 2 pairs wool socks): Adventuring is 95% walking. You can never have too many fresh pairs of shoes to replace the ones with holes in their heels.
- Blanket: a wool blanket, for winter sleeping.
- Penannular Brooch: Tuck can use this steel clasp to wear her blanket like a cloak.
- Coif: black cotton head wrap, for concealing her hair.
- Oilcloth: a 9'-by-7' patch of water-resistant cotton fabric, with leather hoops at its corners. This can be used as a tarp or as a tent, provided that some poles and stakes have been poached from the nearby environs.
Skills
Going where she doesn't belong. Not being noticed while she's there.
Opening doors, safes, windows, and display cases she wasn't meant to open. Being vewy, vewy quiet while she's doing it.
Tuck is fluent in thieves' cant, both the spoken dialect and the symbols scratched into alleys. She's limber and athletic, with strong spatial awareness. She's a decent cook. With a bit of a shake to knock the rust off, she can infiltrate many circles of high society, at least long enough to listen in on the right conversation. Though has walked away with their refined tastes in food, drink, clothes, and amusement, things she can only crave with so little money in her pockets.
Opening doors, safes, windows, and display cases she wasn't meant to open. Being vewy, vewy quiet while she's doing it.
Tuck is fluent in thieves' cant, both the spoken dialect and the symbols scratched into alleys. She's limber and athletic, with strong spatial awareness. She's a decent cook. With a bit of a shake to knock the rust off, she can infiltrate many circles of high society, at least long enough to listen in on the right conversation. Though has walked away with their refined tastes in food, drink, clothes, and amusement, things she can only crave with so little money in her pockets.
coGM
Raineh Daze Figure of Hourai
Member
Seen
23 hrs ago
@Myrna Minkoff This one is quite quick: no.
I feel I have to post this because somehow it hasn't occurred to everyone, when using one of the less-native races, to actually ask any questions:
Please, ask, don't just assume that because a setting has dark elves they're evil dark-skinned backstabbing lunatics who worship strange gods, or that you can randomly insert a large volcanic area into the damn country (which they aren't even native to).
The OP covers the generalities and the local area. At least ask if your idea fits the setting before writing an entire bio on a false premise!
I feel I have to post this because somehow it hasn't occurred to everyone, when using one of the less-native races, to actually ask any questions:
Please, ask, don't just assume that because a setting has dark elves they're evil dark-skinned backstabbing lunatics who worship strange gods, or that you can randomly insert a large volcanic area into the damn country (which they aren't even native to).
The OP covers the generalities and the local area. At least ask if your idea fits the setting before writing an entire bio on a false premise!
Myrna Minkoff
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
Well, literally nothing is said about "the Far North" except that the sun doesn't shine there, so ... what needs to be changed?
HereComesTheSnow dehydration expert
Member
Seen
12 hrs ago
Does the guild provide housing, or are we going to be doing the Konosuba thing and finding barns on the outskirts of town to live in? Because I'm way ready for that.
Myrna Minkoff
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
+ For the record, obviously I'm accepting GM law on this, but I want to be sure that the language "evil dark-skinned backstabbing lunatics" isn't belying the idea that I came up with this crap by random or just to be a dick. I put actual thought into it. Obviously anyone who plays PnP would have me dead to rights on borrowing a lot from 5e Drow, but I think what I borrowed would have made sense given the very little info provided.
1. In a land where "the sun rarely pierces the snowstorms" there's obviously no agriculture happening. And without agriculture how does a civilization feed itself? Thus, the raiding.
2. The weird Drow darwinism serves to cull the population, helping food go farther there, but it would also go a distance in explaining why they're famous for being "highly proficient assassins and ... skilled in the art of stealth and infiltration." Because they hail from a culture where they need those skills from a young age.
Doesn't matter now, obviously, I'll be waiting on the official lore so I can fix the app. Just wanted to clear that up. Thank you for considering.
edit: said "belaying" instead of "belying" whoops
1. In a land where "the sun rarely pierces the snowstorms" there's obviously no agriculture happening. And without agriculture how does a civilization feed itself? Thus, the raiding.
2. The weird Drow darwinism serves to cull the population, helping food go farther there, but it would also go a distance in explaining why they're famous for being "highly proficient assassins and ... skilled in the art of stealth and infiltration." Because they hail from a culture where they need those skills from a young age.
Doesn't matter now, obviously, I'll be waiting on the official lore so I can fix the app. Just wanted to clear that up. Thank you for considering.
edit: said "belaying" instead of "belying" whoops
Caasicam made mostly of bees
Member
Seen
7 mos ago
Does the guild provide housing, or are we going to be doing the Konosuba thing and finding barns on the outskirts of town to live in? Because I'm way ready for that.
oh g o d
oh noooooo
this would be amazing lmao
1x Like
This one is quite quick: no.
oh god this means my rejection will be slow and drawn out D:
GM
VitaVitaAR King of Knights
Member
Seen
4 hrs ago
@Derg2: Okay, a very basic one right off the bat is that there's no way someone with no shirt and a wooden sword would get to be a 4. Maybe if they had a proper sword and were skilled they could get away with no shirt or armor, obviously, this is basically a fantasy anime after all. But a wooden sword and no training... yeah.
There's some other deeper issues with the lore details though. The Church of Reon and Mayon is the dominant religion among humans(and has a fair number of worshippers among other races) on this continent, and thus the same goes for Ithillin. The heavy anti-slavery stance of the Church influences the laws of these countries, and therefore slaves would never be openly employed in Calthir. The illegal slave trade is usually confined to more isolated areas to avoid being discovered. So all the slavery elements are out.
Hundi extremely rarely have the capacity to become magi, which is why Raineh's hundi mage is actually a fairly big deal. So a big mana pool is very unlikely for a hundi.
@Myrna Minkoff: Okay, the big issues here are the backstory, and the issues in the lore it causes. The divide between high, wood, and dark elves is not a matter of actual racial differences, it's cultural. There was a split in the distant past, all three are fundamentally the same race. Dark Elves are typically very pale due to living in the far north underground. As for dark elven society, the gods they worship are different aspects of the gods worshipped by the high and wood elves, or focused on different deities. Their society is kind of cutthroat, but it's more in terms of proving the influence and power of your bloodline. There's also a lot of cultural pride placed on deception and subtlety, but at the same time dark elves also value those they know they can trust a lot
@HereComesTheSnow: There are dorms, and anyone who actually lives in town can obviously live in their own home and go to the guild for work.
There's some other deeper issues with the lore details though. The Church of Reon and Mayon is the dominant religion among humans(and has a fair number of worshippers among other races) on this continent, and thus the same goes for Ithillin. The heavy anti-slavery stance of the Church influences the laws of these countries, and therefore slaves would never be openly employed in Calthir. The illegal slave trade is usually confined to more isolated areas to avoid being discovered. So all the slavery elements are out.
Hundi extremely rarely have the capacity to become magi, which is why Raineh's hundi mage is actually a fairly big deal. So a big mana pool is very unlikely for a hundi.
@Myrna Minkoff: Okay, the big issues here are the backstory, and the issues in the lore it causes. The divide between high, wood, and dark elves is not a matter of actual racial differences, it's cultural. There was a split in the distant past, all three are fundamentally the same race. Dark Elves are typically very pale due to living in the far north underground. As for dark elven society, the gods they worship are different aspects of the gods worshipped by the high and wood elves, or focused on different deities. Their society is kind of cutthroat, but it's more in terms of proving the influence and power of your bloodline. There's also a lot of cultural pride placed on deception and subtlety, but at the same time dark elves also value those they know they can trust a lot
@HereComesTheSnow: There are dorms, and anyone who actually lives in town can obviously live in their own home and go to the guild for work.
1x Thank
TheMushroomLord I am me... I hope.
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Seen
1 hr ago
Not a good reason to be undead, no. Particularly as undead might not look undead but it wouldn't take months to realise "wait, I don't need food or rest".
Ah sorry, I'd made the assumption that other than what was written they were still pretty much normal people and subsequently still needed food and rest, simply not needing to be so choosy about how they acquired it, my mistake. I did forget to ask about that after all. Oh well, it's not like it'll be hard to adjust my CS to have it be a human with amnesia rather than post mortem amnesia.
On another note, just before I finish up my CS could I get some information on how the guild determines the ranks of its members? Is it based off some kind of ability assessment or work done with the Guild? Particularly I want to know how long it might take a previously unskilled and relatively unfit amnesiac with a knack for picking up new skills to rank up as a Coin.
@Raineh Daze@VitaVitaAR
Myrna Minkoff
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
Aw, heck. With the Far North being described basically as this world's Arctic Circle, I thought I was making an elf with an Eskimo complexion. 😒 Can I say they're darker because of a fish-rich diet so I can keep the faceclaim?
And if I'm on the same page as you, the actually important changes I gotta make are:
1. Dial back on the house rivalries; fewer assassinations, more spying and subterfuge
2. Find out more about elf gods so I can use them in place of "subterranean fire-gods"
?
And if I'm on the same page as you, the actually important changes I gotta make are:
1. Dial back on the house rivalries; fewer assassinations, more spying and subterfuge
2. Find out more about elf gods so I can use them in place of "subterranean fire-gods"
?
coGM
Raineh Daze Figure of Hourai
Member
Seen
23 hrs ago
@Myrna Minkoff ... why would you have a dark-skinned complexion when you live underground?
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Myrna Minkoff
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
From the Far North, Dark Elves are mysterious folk who dwell so far to the North that the sun rarely pierces the snowstorms.
As early humans started migrating north into Europe and east into Asia, they were exposed to different amounts of sun. Those who went north found their dark skin worked against them–preventing them from absorbing enough sunlight to create vitamin D. To adapt, these humans started producing less melanin.
But Inuits’ vitamin D intake wasn’t dependent upon the sun. They get all that they need from their diet, heavy on types of fatty fish that are naturally rich in vitamin D. The plentiful amounts of the vitamin kept them from developing less melanin. In fact, before milk was fortified with D, people living outside of Northern Canada and Alaska loaded their diets with fishy products, such as cod liver oil, to get their daily supplement. So despite their chilly climate and lack of sun exposure, it’s the Inuit diet that has kept them in their natural glow.
The same reason you can be darker than the average Mediterranean without seeing the sun for most of the year. Or never seeing the sun at all, if you live underground.
To edify, the lore has not yet given me reason to believe that the people in the Far North are capable of subsisting on a grain-based diet, as will be typical for the world's temperate zones. They're certainly not raiding grains from agrarian societies (as you very politely informed me,) and the lore makes no mention of them using magic to create artificial conditions fit for agrarian commerce. This leaves hunting and foraging to sustain sizeable populations living in the Far North, and I don't see what's so unlikely about at least some of these societies eating mostly fish, a food naturally rich in Vitamin D, thus the indirect cause of northern peoples being darker in complexion.
... and because I like the faceclaim and would like to keep it.
@VitaVitaAR My gratitudes for the review. The mana thing was a meme that would've been epic but I'm not too sad to concede it. And hold on... I'm getting a call from the CEO of social inequality in the hypothetical canon of yet to be accepted backstories. He says that slavery is no more! I have already made these changes in the initial post.
However, I draw the line at the ban on shirtlessness and I would like to plead my case. The very essence of my character has been crafted upon the foundation that is the absence of a shirt. I refuse to believe that platemail would provide any more protection when he already has abs of steel to stand in the path of incoming blows...
Just got a call from the CEO of making objects beyond their budget appear out of no where for characters who do not have alot of money. He says that Rex can have metal stuff. But that doesn't mean he's wearing a shirt* outside of combat. Provided this is enough to pass the bar for rank 4, I will make these changes.
ok now please accept me.
edit: *unless someone politely asks him to IC in which case he most certainly will.
However, I draw the line at the ban on shirtlessness and I would like to plead my case. The very essence of my character has been crafted upon the foundation that is the absence of a shirt. I refuse to believe that platemail would provide any more protection when he already has abs of steel to stand in the path of incoming blows...
Just got a call from the CEO of making objects beyond their budget appear out of no where for characters who do not have alot of money. He says that Rex can have metal stuff. But that doesn't mean he's wearing a shirt* outside of combat. Provided this is enough to pass the bar for rank 4, I will make these changes.
ok now please accept me.
edit: *unless someone politely asks him to IC in which case he most certainly will.
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