Avatar of Vertigo

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8 days ago
Feet? No, I'm more of a meter man myself.
5 likes
18 days ago
i need a medieval fantasy rp like i need oxygen
5 likes
3 mos ago
we got a puppy last weekend! love him to bits but damn does he keep us busy
8 likes
5 mos ago
coffee is only good when it doesn't taste like coffee
1 like
9 mos ago
this really isn't the place for that
4 likes

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Most Recent Posts

I missed this last time due to time constraints, but interested in trying again! Definitely planning to make a survivor of the Dairy Kingdom, a girl who believes in the rumours/conspiracies about what led her people to ruin. She's trying to find answers, not knowing that there aren't really any to be found.

For a second character, I was thinking of making one of the Fruit Kingdom's princes - preferably one of two eldest ones, meaning he'd also be a general. But I wanted to check if that'd be alright first!
Here we go! I got a few different pictures saved for when her appearance gradually changes. Had a hard time deciding which look to go first... but this is suitably goblin-like, since she's still a small sized creature and all.

I've been a bit MIA this week due to work stuff, but the sheet is coming along nicely in general! I did notice, though, that I apparently chose the worst class option for a Verdan >> The Verdan race itself gives proficiency with wisdom and charisma saving throws - but Cleric already has both of those. Rip.

Still trying to decide on a background as well. I'm definitely going to use one of the new options!
If you aren't tired of me yet and still need players, I'd definitely be interested in trying out a Verdan! Not sure about class yet - a paladin or a cleric maybe, depending on how the stat rolls go.

I just realized you said point buy was an option - for some reason I thought the alternative was a standard array. In that case I'm actually doing that for once. Gonna do Verdan Forge Cleric who grew up among dwarves - has a dwarven name and values, at least for now. But things might change over time since that's kinda the Verdan shtick.

Anyone got ideas for their corporate role yet? Though I guess that would be 3rd level stuff.
𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖆 𝕯𝖊𝖜𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖕
HP 09/09 Speed 30
AC 13 DC 12
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What to do... what to do...

There wasn't much she could do, in all honesty. She was standing on the other side of the pit, with no ranged weapons at her disposal. She had never fought before - and so the spells she knew were also not intended for combat. She could run up to the troll and strike it with her rapier, but that sounded nothing short of suicidal. Then there were the flying creatures...

She patted around her person, and realized she did have a dagger. But just one.

It was worth a try, she supposed.

Drawing in a breath, Leanna closed some of the distance between her and the monsters. The flying ones seemed smaller, and therefore hopefully weaker. If she could at least thin their numbers, perhaps she could be of use that way. With that thought in mind, she aimed her dagger - and threw it straight at the closest one.

Without waiting to see whether it had hit its mark, she backtracked to the closest table and dug behind it. Once there, she picked up her instrument - and begun to play. She'd seen two men close to the troll, and hoped that perhaps, just perhaps, her playing could inspire some sort of fighting spirit in them. The closest one should've been within hearing distance, at least.

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I really like the "campaign after the campaign" angle you got going on. Just a question though; will the rp's focus be more on the resource management side of things and interaction with the NPCs of our lands, or do we get frequent chances to interact among player characters as well? I guess what I'm trying to find out is whether this'd be more nation rp lite, or interaction focused.

I'm not super interested in the former myself, but I do know a lot of people are. Just wanna make sure I'm on the right page as far as themes and such go.

I do have an (almost level 8 already) tiefling monk who's been trying to build a home for his people, and would be very happy to have lands to offer them. He is lawful evil - so that could bring about some fun conflict, if allowed. Also his charisma isn't very good and that will probably bite him in the ass eventually.
𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖆 𝕯𝖊𝖜𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖕
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"Ah, I see! My apologies," Leanna offered when the woman claimed the seat taken. She sounded calm enough - not someone who was being chased or otherwise in trouble. Her concern must've been misplaced.

Leanna thanked the woman, then readied to excuse herself. Before she could however, a shout rattled her from her thoughts. She spun around, a feeling of dread in her stomach. That one shout turned into two, three, a dozen, until she could no longer tell one panicked voice from another. Behind the crowds, a large monster pulled itself up from the well and stood to its full height. Leanna did not know what exactly it was - but she recognized the claws as the ones she'd seen in the well a moment earlier.

I should have told someone sooner, Leanna realized. The moment she saw those claws, even if she wasn't sure whether they were decoration or belonged to something living. Even if she had made a fool out of herself. It would've been preferable to... this. Instead, she'd tried to run - and even that had been a half-hearted attempt.

... She could still run, though. No one would fault her if she did.

But no, she intended to be an adventurer. And adventurers did not turn their backs to people who needed their aid. She could not offer much in combat prowess, that was true, but at the very least she could heal those who did.

"You'd best wait for your friend no longer," she told the woman hastily, standing her ground as she stared down the monster. Formidable as it was, it wasn't the monster from her memories. She could face it.
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𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖆 𝕯𝖊𝖜𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖕
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In the end, the fight was settled with no blood spilled. The humans fled the scene, and the crowds begun to disperse. Leanna let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, then turned back to her companion. Sir Wardragon was speaking, and she didn't want to appear rude.

Leanna followed the motion of his hand as he gestured towards the entrance of the Undermountain, her mind conjuring images of brave warriors and wise mages descending down into its depths. "Unfortunately, not many people make it back out. I’ve been down there, and I was the only member of my party to survive.”

The images Leanna had conjured shattered, and the excited glint in her eye was replaced with wide-eyed horror.

"Oh, I'm-- I'm so sorry," she wasn't sure if she sounded more taken aback than sympathetic, but it didn't make the sentiment any less genuine. "I... had no idea..."

... That adventuring was such a dangerous job,
she left unsaid.

Perhaps Wardragon noticed her hesitance, because he was quick to continue and assure her that adventuring did not need to involve the deathly well. A relief and a half, that. He went on to say that not many people ask how to become an adventurer - rather, they simply do. The notion made Leanna's ears heat up with embarrassment. W-was that so? She really did need all the help she could get...

"I’m sure there’s plenty of people around that could use some help in Waterdeep, why not start there?”

She nodded slowly but knowingly. That much she'd gathered from the adventurer she'd accompanied all the way here. Big cities had big problems, after all. This tavern itself was likely no exception.

Leanna took another sip of her liquid courage, then returned her gaze to the chaos that surrounded her. She glossed over the drunkards on the table and the old swindler, trying to see what lay beyond them.

There were quite a few people that looked troubled, in fact. A half-orc left unhappy by the resolution of the fight; a man drinking by his lonesome, tapping a finger to the beat of his impatience; somber tieflings, whose horns made Leanna look away with a startle; a woman glancing behind her at the door, as if afraid; a creature between a man and a cat, and a nervous woman taking its paw.

How was she to know where to start?

Leanna's gaze traced back to the maw of the dungeon, and her heart nearly stopped. On the edge of it, she caught side of a large, clawed hand - almost as if something was trying to claw its way up from the abyss below.

A snowy night, the reek of blood, and a tremendous beast. Its details were scraped away by time - but it, too, had claws.

Leanna stood up.

"Sir Wardragon, you've my utmost gratitude for your time and advice. Please excuse me, I must be off," she gathered her things and her wits, willing her hands not to shake as she picked up her nearly untouched mug. She did not want it to spill. "There is-- there is adventuring to do."

With a curtsy, Leanna excused herself from his company.

She pushed her way through the crowd, further and further away from the Undermountain. She did not dare turn around to see what became of the hand; whether it stayed still, or pulled up a monster of some sort. She did not want to know. She just wanted to leave the tavern.

On her way out, she passed by one of the tables she had seen earlier. A woman draped in white, stealing wary glances at the door. She could've walked past her. Should have, even. But the sight of her sitting there, alone and unsure was a bit too familiar for her to ignore.

"May I?" Leanna asked with a smile, tugging lightly at the back of an unoccupied seat at her table. She hoped her voice didn't tremble. The voices of adventurers, in her mind, never trembled. "The tavern is quite packed."
𝐸𝓏𝑒𝓀𝒾𝑒𝓁 𝑀𝒾𝓎𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓉𝑜


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Kiel woke up late on purpose.

Not because he needed the extra sleep - but because he wanted there to be as little time between waking up and leaving town as possible. He wanted no time for breakfast in the old family kitchen. No time for leisurely walks. No standing around the town entrance, stealing glances at what he was about to leave behind - again.

Most importantly of all, he didn't want to give them any extra time to find him.

The second his alarm went off, Kiel was up. Ten or so minutes later he was clean, clothed, and ready to go. Bag? Check. Ragnar's pokéball? Check. Now all he needed was--

"Hiro?"

There was no answer.

Smile faltering, Kiel stepped out of his room into the second floor hallway. Like the rest of the house, it was expensively furnished - and untouched in years. When Kiel had moved back into his childhood home a few months ago, he'd found it exactly as they left it. No furniture had been moved. No dust cleaned. Even the childish drawings he'd used to take pride in were still proudly on display. Time had eaten away the details of his monstrous lizard-Lugia, but honestly, Kiel found that an improvement.

He found Hiro floating outside a set of closed doors. The master bedroom. A sharp pain wrung Kiel's chest. That's where mom had...

"Come on buddy," Kiel whispered as he approached the Phantump, gently guiding him away from the door. He did not want to have to follow the ghost type inside. "We gotta go. The others are already waiting, you know."

The Phantump turned around, more due to Kiel's interference than his own will. At times, it felt as though the Phantump had no will of his own, simply floating through life as if detached from it. Kiel could relate.

The ghost type glanced up at him with his usual, curious-but-empty gaze, and Kiel gave him an affirmative nod. "We're going on an adventure, remember? It'll be fun. Look, I'll carry you."

He picked the Phantump up and placed him atop his head. "See? You'll see everything from there. Just hold on tight."

With a grin, Kiel hopped down the stairs and made for the exit. He flung open the door, then stopped dead in his tracks. With a heavy sigh, he turned around with a forlorn look.

"We'll be off."

The empty house gave no answer.

Kiel turned around and adjusted the strap of his designer bag - then took his first step beyond the threshold.

Man, it was bright outside. He'd have to find his sunglasses.

- - -


By the time he arrived to the meeting spot, Kiel had found his sunglasses - and his usual grin. Just as he'd expected, everyone else was already there. Some of them he'd managed to reunite with in the past few months - others he had not. He'd have plenty of time for all that mushy stuff once they were on the road, though.

"Yo! The gang's all here, I see. Yeah, uh, sorry for making you wait and all," Kiel jogged his way to the middle of the group, his grin widening that much more. "But you know what they say; good things are worth waiting for." He lowered his sunglasses just enough to manage a visible wink at whichever one of the girls was unfortunate enough to stand closest to him. "Am I right?"

He pushed the sunglasses back up, then addressed the group as a whole with a clap of his hands. "So! Nothing to it but to get going, yeah? Dunno about you, but I'm itching to leave Old Bark Town behind. Cherrygrove's just around the corner. C'mon, I'll race you!"

With that, he dashed towards Route 29 as if the wooden warning sign was not there at all.
𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖆 𝕯𝖊𝖜𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖕

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Leanna shifted in her seat nervously.

She was no stranger to taverns. On the contrary, she had been a regular patron at the Azure Mare, the largest tavern in her hometown. It had been a wonderful place for stories and conversations, whether they were shared willingly or overheard from a table over. Yes, there had been the occasional brawl, and every now and again someone had drank too much or said a few words too many. But overall, the atmosphere had been cozy, even quaint.

The Yawning Portal was a tavern of a different sort.

She was used to noise, but not quite this kind. It wasn't simply loud; the tavern overwhelmed every single one of her senses. It was chaos made manifest, unashamed, unapologetic, unrelenting. There was no respite to be found, even in the most quiet corner. She would know; she'd tried to find it. Yet even where she sat, close to the walls and away from the bustle of the counter, she found herself surrounded. The scents lingered. The noise blared. Everywhere around her, perturbing scenes fought for her attention.

To her right, an old hag was swindling young men from money. At least she assumed the victims were young men; she had never seen their kind before. To her left, two patrons lay intertwined on a table, only separating their lips long enough to draw breath. Thank the gods they were too drunk to find their way out of their clothes.

Somewhere unseen, an amateur lutist filled the gaps between clatter and gossip with off-key tunes. Leanna did not know who or where the bard was. That was, perhaps, for the best. Then there was the inevitable brawl, escalating a few tables over. Leanna had done her best to ignore it, unwilling to make eye contact with any of the participants so as to not get roped into their trouble. But the louder the belligerents got, the harder it was.

"Is the Yawning Portal always quite this..." Leanna hesitated, fiddling with the handle of her mug as if hoping the right words would spill right over its brim. They did not, so she chose the first word that came to her, "hm, rowdy?"

She turned her gaze to the man across the table. Meloon Wardragon, she believed his name was. 'War Dragon' - such a mighty name for a man that seemed anything but. He was a human man like any other, and by no means in the prime of his youth. Compared to the many formidable patrons around her, he seemed almost diminutive.

But looks could be deceiving. She had been told he was a famous adventurer, so treat him like one she would.

"Never mind that. My apologies, I've yet to grow accustomed to the city," Leanna hurried to say, hoping Wardragon had not taken offense. She had not come here to complain. She was to start a new life, and this was the man who ought to tell her how. She had sought him out for a reason. "A mutual friend ushered me to find you."

The man in question was not a friend of hers in truth. She did not even know his name. He was but a member of a group of adventurers who took notice of her wanderlust. But that was quite a bit more mouthful than simply 'friend', and a little pitiful besides.

Lanna glanced down at her ale, which Wardragon had kindly treated her to. She had yet to drink alcohol in her life, but she knew they called it liquid courage. It made every boy a warrior, and every old man a casanova - at least in their own minds. She took a sip. The foreign taste burned on her tongue, yet she felt no more courageous than she had before. A pity. She could not keep the man waiting any longer with good conscience.

"Sir Wardragon," she set down her ale and rested her hands upon the table, one folded atop the other. The ladies back home did so quite often. Perhaps they feared their hands would run off otherwise.

Leanna understood. Part of her wanted to run, too.

"How would one go about becoming an adventurer?"

Before the man could offer her an answer, a bellow silenced him - and many others besides. Leanna craned her neck to find its source, but there was already a crowd gathering around the ever-escalating brawl. All she saw from her seat were backs and raised fists.

She took another nervous sip of her ale.
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