Celsior Loriniscil, Prince of Alfheim Inspiration Yes | HP 35/35 | HD 5/5d6 StrSave -1 Athletics, proficient +2 8 | DexSave +3 Initiative +3 Acrobatics +3 Sleight of Hand +3 Stealth +3 14 | ConSave +2 14 | IntSave, proficient +7 Arcana, proficient +7 History, proficient +7 Investigation, proficient +7 Nature +4 Religion +4 18 | WisSave, proficient +3 Animal Handling +0 Medicine +0 Insight +0 Perception, proficient +3 Survival +0 10 | ChaSave +0 Deception +0 Intimidation +0 Persuasion, proficient +3 Performance, proficient +3 10 StepStarlight Step As a bonus action, you can magically teleport up to 30 feet to an unoccupied space you can see. You can use this trait a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and you regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest. 2/2 | Shield 1/1 | BladesongStarting at 2nd level, you can invoke a secret elven magic called the Bladesong, provided you aren't wearing medium or heavy armor or using a shield. It graces you with supernatural speed, agility, and focus. You can use a bonus action to start the Bladesong, which lasts for 1 minute. It ends early if you are incapacitated, if you don medium or heavy armor or a shield, or if you use two hands to make an attack with a weapon. You can also dismiss Bladesong at any time you choose (no action required). You can use this feature a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and you regain all expended uses of it when you finish a long rest. While your bladesong is active, you gain the following benefits: * You gain a bonus to your AC equal to your Intelligence modifier (minimum of +1). * Your walking speed increases by 10 feet. * You have advantage on Dexterity (Acrobatics) checks. * You gain a bonus to any Constitution saving throws you make to maintain concentration on a spell. The bonus equals your Intelligence modifier (minimum of +1). 2/2 | RecoveryArcane Recovery. You have learned to regain some of your magical energy by studying your spellbook. Once per day when you finish a short rest, you can choose expended spell slots to recover. The spell slots can have a combined level that is equal to or less than half your wizard level (rounded up), and none of the slots can be 6th level or higher. For example, if you're a 4th-level wizard, you can recover up to two levels worth of spell slots. You can recover either a 2nd-level spell slot or two 1st-level spell slots. 4/4 Spells +8 DC 16 | CantripsAE: Light VM MI1: Mage Hand VS MI2: Minor Illusion SM 1 Prestidigiation VS 2 Sword Burst V 3 Toll the Dead VS 4 Booming Blade VM | 1st1. Magic Missile VS 2. Shield VS Reaction 3. Sleep VSM 4. Burning Hands VS 3d6 Dex 5. Absorb Elements S Reaction Rituals Detect Magic VS Ritual Concen Find Familiar VSM Ritual Alarm VSM Ritual 4/4 | 2nd6. Suggestion VM Conc, 8 hr 7. Invisibility VSM Conc, 1 hr 8. See Invisibility VSM, 1 hr 3/3 | 3rd9. Fireball, VSM Rituals Tiny Hut, VSM Ritual 2/2 Celsior smiles staring at the sea from his chair and replies to Captain Sartell about their pamphlets, "it seemed funny at the time. Frankly, we've struggled to find any suitable recruits for the academy and wanted to say we tried everything. Which is amazing, considering that most people in this city want to leave." He sips his glass of white wine and continues, "They just don't believe the whole space thing. And, I think they believe we want to recruit them for some demonic cult. Is that so prevalent here?" He relaxes as he does most everywhere he sits with the posture of a prince. There can be no doubt of his royalty. This tall, oddly colored elf with regal-bearing wears oddly fancy fashion with strange fabrics and features which highlight his porcelain skin, silvery inhuman eyes, and flowing silver, shoulder-length hair and subtly repeat a particular heraldry: argent, three-petaled flower purpure. A sheathed rapier, dagger, and purse hang from his belt. A dark mahogany crossbow gilded with green oxidized copper and a luxurious leather luggage case sit beside his chair out of the walkway between the tables. "Are we meeting Flapjack here? Or, is he aboard your ship?" Always on mission, despite enjoying the scenery. Mechanics Active spells: Action: -

Please feel free to be the unlucky sod who caught Rush's eye, the aforementioned "next table over", a disapproving onlooker, or the bowl of olives.

Air Genasi Valkuryte Racer AC: 19 (Splint, Shield) | HP: 43/43 () | HD: 5/5 | Speed: 35 ft. | Initiative: +0 Senses: Passive Perception 17, Insight 17, Investigation 10. Darkvision 60ft. StrSave: +3 Athletics: +6 Carrying Capacity: 240 lb. Lift/Push/Drag: 480 lb.: 16 (+3) | DexInitiative: +0 Save: +0 Acrobatics: +0 Slight-of-Hand: +0 Stealth: +0: 10 (+0) | ConSave: +2: 14 (+2) | IntSave: +0 Arcana: 0 History: 0 Investigation: 0 Nature: +3 Religion: 0: 10 (+0) | WisSave: +7 Animal Handling: +4 Insight: +7 Medicine: +7 Perception: +7 Survival: +4: 18 (+4) | ChaSave: +2 Deception: -1 Intimidation: -1 Performance: -1 Persuasion: -1: 8 (-1) Languages: Common, Auran Spell Slots: L1 4/4 | L2 3/3 | L3 2/2 Rush's callused fingers tapped a staccato rhythm on the otherwise neat tabletop as he watched The Polakka slip out the harbour, Captain Linus threading the needle between two Fist ships with a judicious Gust. "Coulda got out quicker if he'd gone the other side and stole their wind," he judged, turning back to his drink and the dwarf sat next to him. He took a quick sip of his custom Thunderball cocktail - a pint of 'White Lightning cider charged with a shot of black Chult vodka. It had taken a bit of persuading - or rather gold - to get Tender Henk serving such a monstrosity in his more respectable cafe, but Rush was flush off his latest voyage. Even if he was between ships. "I'm telling you Thordal," he continued their earlier conversation "I almost made it last time. Knocked another few seconds off before everything else got knocked off." The heavyset smith just shook his head with a chuckle. "You're a tree-brained idiot Rush. Denser than adamantine, though I'll grant your balls are made of the same. What kind of sailor curses out the Sea Bitch in the middle of a storm." A wide smile cracked the Genasi's face, showing pearly white teeth between pale blue lips set in an angular jaw. Changing subjects on a dime, he snapped out "I gotta new idea though. You know all these things falling from the sky? I reckon there might be something there to work with right? Fancy magic flying rocks..." The dwarf immediately shook his head, red beard jangling as the steel trinkets shook like wind chimes. "Nah-uh, ain't touching none of that. Not after what I heard happened to those divers. Have to find yourself some other smith. Not even for all the gold in Waukeen's sweaty pits." A frown rolled across Rush's brow, wrinkling the jagged geometric tattoos that broke up his face. It passed as quickly as it arrived though, blown away by the same invisible breeze that caressed the frosted tips of his white hair and set his obsidian earrings swaying against the popped collar of his deep blue captain's jacket. "Nevermind. Here, I thought we were getting some snacks?" He shot from his seat, rising above the webs of low conversation that had been growing as if a particularly industrious cave spider was working its way around the impromptu bar. "Can anyone pass over that bowl of olives there?" he shouted, gesturing towards the kitchen hatch. "Yeah, you'll do," he added, as someone had the misfortune of meeting his eye, "just grab it and send it hand over hand. Pass it on to that table there and they can keep going." OOC Action: - Bonus Action: - Movement: - Reaction: - Object Interaction: - Actions & Resources Actions: Warhammer. Melee Weapon Attack: +6 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 1d8 + 3 bludgeoning damage. Club. Melee Weapon Attack: +6 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 1d4 + 3 bludgeoning damage. Javelin. Melee/Thrown Weapon Attack: +6 to hit, reach 5 ft., ranged 30/120 ft., one target. Hit: 1d6 + 3 piercing damage. Shocking Grasp . Melee Spell Attack (V,S): +7 to hit, Touch, one target. Hit: 2d8 Lightning damage. Sacred Flame . Cantrip (V,S): Creature you can see, range 60 ft., one target, no cover. DEX Save: 2d8 radiant damage. Toll the Dead . Cantrip (V,S): Creature you can see, range 60 ft., one target. WIS Save: 2d8/2d12 necrotic damage. Bonus Actions: - Reactions: - Class/Race Features: FeatherFall (1/1 Long Rest) . Levitate (1/1 Long Rest) . Wrath of the Storm (4/4 Long Rest) . You can thunderously rebuke attackers. When a creature within 5 feet of you that you can see hits you with an attack, you can use your reaction to cause the creature to make a Dexterity saving throw. The creature takes 2d8 lightning or thunder damage (your choice) on a failed saving throw, and half as much damage on a successful one. Channel Divinity (1/1) Turn UndeadAs an action, you present your holy symbol and speak a prayer censuring the undead. Each undead that can see or hear you within 30 feet of you must make a Wisdom saving throw. If the creature fails its saving throw, it is turned for 1 minute or until it takes any damage. A turned creature must spend its turns trying to move as far away from you as it can, and it can't willingly move to a space within 30 feet of you. It also can't take reactions. For its action, it can use only the Dash action or try to escape from an effect that prevents it from moving. If there's nowhere to move, the creature can use the Dodge action. Destructive Wrath When you roll lightning or thunder damage, you can use your Channel Divinity to deal maximum damage, instead of rolling.

That's the general idea, yes. Yahs and yourself have been in the city a few days already, attempting to recruit new cadets with corny pamphlets...having extremely limited success. Your assignment was to eventually meet up with merc Captain Sartell though, Flapjack is part of her crew. Her spelljamming ship is out in the harbor, but of course it just looks like a normal galleon to most people.

Just to be clear, Yahs and Celsior are there to meet Sartell, and Sartell is with them at the table. Will Sartell take them to the Rock of Bral? Or tell them how to, so they can spelljam their own way there? thanks

Congratulations to all the chosen! May you encounter much strangeness on your path.

First post is up all, go ahead and get your feet wet, start some banter. Interact with anything I've laid out or make up your own props/people. Let's create something awesome together. :) If there was a lingering decision about your magic item, I will try to have that settled in the morning. I might try to move all your applications to a special topic here you can continue to use for updates and such.

An unforeseen dentistry convention scuttled earlier plans to gather at the Blushing Mermaid, they were simply at maximum capacity. A group of the regular drunks mounted a valiant counterattack, gathering a pipe organ full of hooch under the half-schooner that was built into the tavern, pointing out to the harbor of Baldur's Gate. They had prepared for such a moment for years, storing the apparatus in a humble shack tucked away from the main patrol paths of the old Steel Watch. The Mermaid's previous owner was a hag who specialized in trading eyeballs, and the crew always knew one day their master fallback plan would need to be activated. They never expected dentists on the other hand, nor really ever thought through the whole pipe organ full of hooch thing. Nevertheless, the relocated barflies with their strange shambling dances down there and sloppy songs stirred up a few pinchy, unwanted visitors from the crabby sands, right down where the murky bay lapped against the tall yellowstone palisade. Other than that, it was a nice view from up at the Singing Lute. Romantic even, perhaps in different company and different lighting. It was a quaint cafe just across the street from the busy Mermaid, the sole-proprietorship being a stone faced half orc everyone sarcastically called 'Tender Henk'. Tables were set and etiquette was observed in their preparation of napkins and freshly picked mountain Balsam in cute vases, peddled that morning from barefooted flower girls that snuck past the Fist's checkpoint shakedowns. Henk had a full arsenal of drinks available, and it was certainly beer-thirty o'clock according to your hourglasses. His stock included some exotic mixes that drifted up from the traders and smugglers that really owned this part of the Gate. The food was good and came quick if you were the only one there...not the case now with you all and the other spillover from the Mermaid next door. Some rumored Henk had a twin brother named Honk, and the duo coordinated to never be seen together in some kind of sick game twins find hilarious. There was really no evidence to support such claims. The last of the Chionthar fog had almost been strangled out by the afternoon smug, a sudden clarity of dazzling blue waters carried the crisp salty notes of the sea along with their glittering light. Nearby, the heavily guarded docks of the Counting House were bursting with toil...treasure chests full of diamonds and gold being loaded and unloaded with a banker's efficiency. In certain moments, a gentle breeze would linger down from inland, quieting the bustle of the city. In those moments, the long vibratos of high notes could just barely be heard, those caressing voices of the water priests dancing over the activity of the humongous harbor. In contrast the cold mechanus of Gondian cranehooks scuttled in formation like a flock of geese, plucking parcels of smokepowder, sweet potatoes, boltsmelting tools, Calimshan jewelry, and of course live horses from the passing merchant vessels. The cafe crowd's banter was pleasant enough, or at least enough of a murmur to focus on the latest issue of Baldur's Mouth. Falling stars were the talk of the town, everyone from amateur astronomers to doomsayers had an explanation. The Mouth had hired a special investigator who was making a clink with a daily column, the intaglio ink portrait of the writer always showed the woman with dark eyes, dark hair, black clothing, and adorned with gaudy regalia...she always likened the falling objects to coffins. Others said the large droplets resembled seeds, like the two-faced patchy shells of almonds. Of course the recurring celestial event was all signs at once, a bright spark in the night spurring the gamblers next hand, or the schizophrenics last tick before a spout of nonsense promising impending doom. A group of crayfish divers made a ruckus a few days ago, claiming to have found one of the space eggs in its rest deep below the river's rush. They had tales of gorgeous, sweet-scented living yellow crystals sprouting forth from artistically worked metals worth a fortune. They were never heard from again. Anirys, headhunting initiate of Mop-Fu, enjoyed Prince Celsior the Astral Bladesinger's company as they took a break from their recent duties to meet a certain Captain Sartell. They had been sent to the coast ostensibly on a recruiting assignment, but in reality they had been pushed to contact the mysterious flumph Flapjack, a supposed way in to the underworld politics of the satellite city known as the Rock of Bral. To most in the city, Captain Sartell was just another runner of the Sea of Swords. The Prince however had memorized the exact vertical takeoff speed of her galleon the Moondancer, and its maneuverability ratings at tactical speed. One thing the recently graduated cadets learned quickly: everyone hates a pamphleteer. Sartell was criticizing the stack of prints you had failed to pass out yesterday, reading the ridiculous slogans with a smirk of entertainment "...'we've got a nose for excellence'? Really? Someone actually drew this Turtle Ship with an extra large reptilian shnoz thinking it would boost your numbers?" pointing out the crude sketch. The other eclectic patrons had come to the cafe by just as much chance. An actual cat taking an aperitif with coconut scones certainly caught Anyris' ocular sensors. A thri-keen played a strange instrument for tips, dangling a chitinous leg off the balcony without a care in the world. At the table near the kitchen a halfling was forcing crackers into a very confused chicken's beak for some unknown reason. A sky-toned genasai was tapping his fingers and feet watching a yacht far out on the waters snake deftly through a blockade. A rare noble from the Upper City was down here among the scrags, opting to dine without his butler for once. An inscrutable man with mismatched eyes seems immune to your consultations... It was a lazy afternoon, and none of them could know the strange connection they would share when everything they ever knew would be torn away...unwillingly sacrificed but for the light of a distant star. ooc: You all are at the Singing Lute, a small outdoors cafe along the main strip of Baldur's Gate that runs near the harbor. The cafe is at the top of a tidal wall, but a set of stairs runs down to the water front. Other paths lead deeper into the city, but what's the rush? All is well!

Welcome all. I'll be taking a finer look at your crunch over the next few days. I'll get something up for you all to play with soon, regardless. Feel free to say hello or ask questions here. Now that we have a party together, any last minute class changes are fair game as well. As mentioned, party composition isn't that important to me. We did not get a ton of pure martial apps, but a lot of you guys have a melee focus.

Guys its so painful, really. I consider myself a nice guy IRL, and reading such awesome stuff and turning it away makes me feel actually horrible. From all the apps, I shortlisted 9 that were a no-brainer invite. But I had to narrow it down, hence the pain. I would like to invite 4 brand new players as planned: Raaol Whiskerdust Minnifred Stormcandle Rush Thom ...and one semi-surprise bonus returning player from another site: Simon Eltan For a massive party of 8. For all others, I sincerely thank you for putting something together. If we have attrition, I will certainly reach out and hopefully you will still be interested.

That's faster than normal to be fair

For those holding their breath, I probably won't announce until after work today (roughly 8-9 hours from now).

Magic Item Request Amulet of the Drunkard (Source: EGW p. 265, Uncommon Wondrous Item): This amulet smells of old, ale-stained wood. While wearing it, you can regain 4d4 + 4 hit points when you drink a pint of beer, ale, mead, or wine. Once the amulet has restored hit points, it can't do so again until the next dawn. Alternatives - Bag of Holding - Slumbering Dragon's Wrath Glaive (Source: FTD p. 25, Uncommon martial melee weapon(requires attunement)) [Lightning Breath]: This weapon is decorated with dragon heads, claws, wings, scales, or Draconic letters. When it steeps in a dragon's hoard, it absorbs the energy of the dragon's breath weapon and deals damage of that type with its special properties. Whenever you roll a 20 on your attack roll with this weapon, each creature of your choice within 5 feet of the target takes 5 damage of the type dealt by the dragon's breath weapon. (6 lb. | 1d10 slashing, lightning - heavy, reach, two-handed) - Heavy. Creatures that are Small or Tiny have disadvantage on attack rolls with heavy weapons. A heavy weapon's size and bulk make it too large for a Small or Tiny creature to use effectively. - Reach. This weapon adds 5 feet to your reach when you attack with it. This property also determines your reach for opportunity attacks with a reach weapon. - Two-Handed. This weapon requires two hands to use. This property is relevant only when you attack with the weapon, not when you simply hold it.

Duk'ou Byao'gohn First Mate at Sea || First Charge into Battle Personality Traits I enjoy sailing into new ports and making new friends over a flagon of ale. My language is as foul as an otyugh nest. I will recklessly charge into battle, no matter what. But no sacrifice is worthless when offered for victory. All that matters is bringing the Storm Herald to where the Storm will be. Ideals Freedom. The sea is freedom—the freedom to go anywhere and do anything. (Chaotic) To wage battle against storms, monsters, foes, and anything else is simply his life. Wherever he fights, he will bring the storm with him or make his own. A good battle followed by a night of drinks is all one needs. Bonds I’ll always remember my first ship, the Hieratic, and its crew. And friends and foes alike can receive my respect in battle, such is the nature of all mighty heroes and villains to attract each other. Those who follow me and those I follow deserve my loyalty and that is not given lightly with my intuition. Flaws Once I start drinking, it’s hard for me to stop. The more damage I sustain and the more losses I suffer, the more reckless I become. I have no mind for tactics or strategy, relying on my instincts to read the situation and moving however I see fit, even to the displeasure of others. Origins of his Clan In the old times of Toril’s Spellplague, Clan Qin’skad’ia was in the middle of an exodus from their homeland and, unknowingly, their homeworld. Some time in their history within the parallel world of Abeir, where dragons ruled over dragonborn, the bronze dragonborn of Clan Qin’skad’ia served an ancient red dragon, whose true name is lost to time and passed to future generations only as the “Crimson Overlord”. Legend tells that Crimson Overlord enslaved the clan once their volcanic dominion reached the coastal villages of Qin’skad’ia, forcing it under their rule as their new shore base of operations. The Qin’skad’ian dragonborn were once traders and fishers, now made into raiders and marines for the water-hating red dragon to pillage along the newly-accessible sea routes for plunder. To avoid fiery annihilation from the Overlord, the clan had to regularly deliver sufficient treasure to the red dragon’s hoard, all coming from the plunder taken from coastal raiding. In those times, raiding parties sailing swift and numerous dragon longships became the core of the clan’s societal structure, made up of the fiercest warriors and seafarers to forcefully loot and pillage from others for the clan’s survival. These raiding captains struck from newly-constructed coastal fortresses whose foundations were the chained bodies of their brethren, and the commanders of these fortresses were in turn charged with not only imposing martial law over the clanspeople but also defending the Crimson Overlord from shore-based threats. The rigorous tenacity and innovation of the dragonborns’ bronze draconic lineage sparked their growth into powerful and fearsome fighters as well as more aggressive navigators, braving through any martial or natural obstacle with proud determination, only because that determination was but a matchstick to the volcanic might of the Crimson Overlord which struck fear and despair in their hearts. However, the age of slavery would come to an end with a shifting of the winds, when one dragonborn lit the spark of rebellion amongst his clansmen. Zhin’yusei, the Star-signer, led the clan in seceding from the Crimson Overlord’s domain with a decade-spanning war waged in pushing out the red dragon’s influence from their coasts. Uniting the raiding fleets and coastal forts into an army, Zhin’yusei turned the entire coastline against its unrightful master, provoking the Overlord’s wrathful rebuke. It was said that the bronze dragonborn cleaved through armies of hostile dragonborn, half-dragons, and even members of the Overlord’s own young brood to free their homeland and people. Initially, the campaign successfully freed the coasts of Qin’skad’ia with the element of surprise. But even the strength of the clan’s strongest warriors and the cunning of its most weathered captains and commanders could not hold back the Crimson Overlord’s might. For every glorious victory would eventually become only increasingly grievous losses of Qin’skad’ian heroes. And in the closing days of the war, in the clan’s darkest hour, Zhin’yusei would organize a mass exodus of all clansfolk into the ocean, with only a spark of hope that the ancient red dragon would not pursue them. Taking up the rearguard of this endeavor was the Starsigner’s Sword, which was the epithet of Zhin’yusei’s champion Fay-sheen’tai. Fay-sheen’tai was a warrior and captain unmatched in martial might, fiery intuition, and unwavering loyalty; whose blade always flew straight on its course like a longship in a storm, earning him the personal nickname the Flying Helm-blade. While the Star-signer led the evacuation of the clan out to sea, the Helm-blade thrust himself and his loyal army deep into the Crimson Overlord’s ranks, drawing the red dragon to them as they hacked their course through his armies. Even in the shrouds of myth and legend, it is unknown if Fay-sheen’tai really decimated such an unimaginable amount of enemies, but a witness claim was made that the unmistakeable breath of the Crimson Overlord was seen annihilating the land directly in front of it and that a bolt of lightning pierced through the engulfing flames before disappearing in smoke. So the legend goes that Fay-sheen’tai cut his way to the Crimson Overlord and engaged the dragon in a duel while his followers kept out any interlopers as best they could. No matter what details of the duel were told, the finale would always be the Crimson Overlord ending the fight once and for all with a breath attack, incinerating the remnants of the Qin’skad’ian army and its own in a hellish fireball, but in a bolt of lightning, the Starsigner’s Sword thrust straight through the dragonfire, flying in the hands of Fay-sheen’tai jumping off the ground. And the champion struck an sky-shattering blow with the full might of the bronze dragon lineage flowing through his veins unleashed. Thus marked the end of Clan Qin’skad’ia’s war with the Crimson Overlord. Meanwhile, the rest of the bronze dragonborn fled into the waves of the sea, sheltered in a fleet of the remaining longships not lost in battle and hastily constructed galleys. From the sunset after seeing the last lightning bolt to the next sunrise, Zhin’yusei gathered the clan remnants in mourning for the loss of his best friend and all the other clansfolk who sacrificed themselves for freedom. In the coming time spent in a straight course away from their homeland, no one could envision a final destination to their escape, and even their leader could find a path through the stars to guide them. Until a storm brewed on the horizon, swirling and roiling in a great spiral. It was terrifyingly huge, larger than any storm ever seen by a dragonborn. The torrential downpours and arcing pillars of lightning deterred even the most seasoned sailors of their people. Yet, with a voice proudly determined to meet their destiny, the Star-signer ordered his fleet to follow his flagship and plunge into the terror, promising them a final destination. With unparalleled skill and grit, the clan leader navigated the storm through every force of the oceans and heavens conspiring to tear his ships asunder, until he reached the destination promised to his people. An eerie calm beset the fleet once they have finally reached what only the Star-Signer could see through the obscuring clouds and the blinding seaspray: the eye of the storm. However, no one could have known what came next, for in passing through the eye, Clan Qin’skad’ia had found itself in uncharted waters. Waters belonging to a brave new world later discovered to be … Toril. Early History of his Clan on Toril Shortly after their unexpected arrival to Toril, the dragonborn clan soon made it to unknown shores. With their knowledge of coastal villages and fortresses, a stronghold haven was constructed as their new home over decades of work, carved out of rock cliffs and bored through tidal coves. But such a project to house an entire clan and future generations required resources, resources not found in the frosty wasteland the clansfolk scouted out further inland. Several longships ventured out along the coastlines to broaden the search, eventually coming to find coastal villages of unknown races. With the clan’s long history of slavery and waging a war with no allies, the dragonborn were not willing to trust these new faces to trade for the resources they needed. Or perhaps, the longships full of proud dragonborn warriors who knew only war and raiding did only what they knew best. Over the years, the middling coast of Icewind Dale and Neverwinter would spread rumors of bronze dragon warriors raiding villages for food, tools, and treasure; and many military forces and adventurers clashed with these warriors in defense of these villages. The Skadian Raiders, as the Toril locals nicknamed them, did not harm the villagers unless provoked, generally cowing the locals with intimidating appearances and plowing their way through houses and lockboxes for their loot. But, in the event of a strong force of soldiers or adventurers confronting them, the bronze dragonborn would not disregard the allure of a good fight. Many skirmishes were won and lost between the raiders and defenders, digging a deeper rift between the outsiders and natives yet also solidifying the clan’s fearsome reputation. With the completion of the new clanhold Z’ar’qin’skad’ia, the bronze dragonborn only grew in strength, their numbers replenishing in abundance and their old ways keeping their claws sharp. But their appetite for conflict and war was long oversatiated and was replaced with a weary want for peace. Despite their hopes of turning a heading of their current course, Clan Qin’skad’ia’s growing influence beyond their small territory grabbed the notice of the Lord Neverwinter himself who would not allow such a raiding force threaten Neverwinter’s sea trade. He sent a particularly powerful adventuring party to subdue the clan and end the threat once and for all. The adventurers were able to defeat several Qin’skad’ian longship crews and were eventually granted an audience with their clan leader, called a maekr’isk, who was at the time a wily former sea captain named Obe’rak Jal’rolf. Respecting the adventurers’ strength and justice, Maekr’isk Obe’rak attempted to foster peace between their peoples with the observation that an adventurer’s role to explore the unknown while fighting for what they believe in was a new heading the clan could take. And soon, negotiations of Clan Qin’skad’ia becoming a seafaring force for escorting sea traders instead of raiding them would bear fruit, which inadvertently allowed the clan members to openly explore their new world, free from the fears of their past. In the current age, Qin’skad’ian longships act as convoy escorts, long-journeying traders, and the occasional privateer, but a small percentage of those ships roam free of the clan’s new role. These Qin’skad’ian explorers and adventurers would make legends and tales of their own, each worthy of being told to their dragonborn ancestors upon the journey’s end. And this is where one such Qin’skad’ian adventurer’s story awaits. Backstory Duk’ou was born and raised in the rocky coves of Z’ar’qin’skad’ia, like all members of his clan. Blessed with an exceptionally powerful physique even amongst the terrifying forms of his kind, he boasted of his strength constantly in his formative years as a hatchling, able to muscle his way through any obstacles in his way. In single combat with his fellow clutchmates, he was undefeated. And even in the clan’s ritualistic martial training exercises involving clashing ternok’dos (“scale walls”, a fighting formation of clansmen), Duk’ou always led the charge to stir up a veritable storm of savagery in his wake and win costly victories at the expense of his allies. Still, his martial prowess gained him a decent following that would follow his ascent to sea captain of a longship. However, for all his power, he remained hindered by one obstacle to his path to greatness: a rival captain candidate named Hal’ki Elso’mikk. Hal’ki was physically weaker and smaller than his brethren, but where the thundering sparks of stormy might would course through Duk’ou’s spirit instead an enlightened spark of creativity and innovation guided his chosen path. He preferred to watch ships of all kinds sail on and off their homeport than doing any physical training, and his scrawled notes of observations included detailed sketches of old and new ship designs along with uncanny descriptions of weather conditions. The small dragonborn conquered his obstacles with cleverness and a keen mind, unlike Duk’ou’s physical might, which had caused the two to clash frequently over their differences. And in a twist of fate, the two were assigned as crew to their very own longship together, with Hal’ki as captain and Duk’ou as first mate. Initially, the duo made for uncertain leadership, given how they argued, but once settled, they made a formidable complementary team. As captain, Hal’ki modified the longship with his personal designs to make one of the fastest ships in the Qin’skad’ian fleet, which along with his superior knowledge of nautical navigation and maneuvering made him a premier upcoming sailor and commander. In his tour as first mate, Duk’ou led the crew in training and in battle as warrior-captain but also enforcing discipline and good spirits among them with boastful cheers and drink where Hal’ki’s more reclusive personality could not. And in time, the adventures of the longship Hieratic made its mark on the clan and other distant lands with the deeds of her captain and first mate. But all good things came to an end as the crew of the Hieratic were shipwrecked and forced to evade the law after a job contract gone wrong with a client in Waterdeep. The attempted heist in the famed City of Splendors ruined their fortunes and reputations, even having gone so far to involve the watchmen of Neverwinter to pursue them. And so the crew split up in hiding and taking up new lives, which for Duk’ou meant the life of a mercenary who did odd jobs as hired muscle for clients of all kinds. But the hope remained that one day he would reunite with his crew with enough money and resources to build a new ship and go back to sailing the high seas once more. Recently, an old friend from the Hieratic sent an invitation to Baldur’s Gate wishing to catch up and also discuss an opportunity to buy a ship for the old Hieratic crew. Of course, Duk’ou made haste for the city to meet his former crewmate Ing’vra. Physical Characteristics Gender: Male Age: 28 Height: 6' 5" (77 in.) Weight: 237 lbs. Size: Medium Eyes: Yellow "Hair": Bluish-white Skin: Bronze Appearance Duk’ou (also known as simply “Duke” to his Common-speaking friends) is an imposing figure of 6’5” with a muscular frame clearly defined by years of combat and ship-handling. His bronze scales are weathered and tanned from the sun and seaspray, with his crests and ridges surrounding his form taking a bluish-white color with all the accumulated sea salt bleaching the color out, which give him a mistaken but not unwelcome appearance of tribal markings, moustache, beard, and eyebrows. Scars litter his body from previous battles as electric yellow lines crossing his torso and arms. The only clothes on his person is an unbuttoned, free-flowing red vest hiding little of his bare scales; and baggy white breeches that offer comfort, maneuverability, and modesty. A backpack full of supplies is carried on his strong back with a gourd-like jug of fine wine tied to the top with rope while a smaller pouch is slung across his chest holding seafaring tools and his personal wineskin. However, no warrior is without his weapons and while his two handaxes hang by a waistbelt and his supply of harpoons are strapped to his pack, the trusty glaive stays in his hands always, its haft well-worn by use and the savage blade roughly grinded multiple times to give a vicious, serrated edge. Behind the blade are yellow eyes that will glow with lightning radiance and become wide like a beast on the hunt once he rages, and sharpened teeth that grin with a barbaric fiery joy for life. Personality He is a boisterous individual who isn’t afraid to make friends and enemies alike with his affinity for fighting and drink. He boasts of his past deeds and the deeds of his ancestors proudly when prompted to by curious minds and any requirement to prove his claims. A simplistic view of life allows him to pay attention to the finer details of the present, giving him a lightning-fast intuition that may catch those underestimating him for his intelligence off-guard. A rather ruthless and brutal approach to those in his way had earned him more than a bad reputation from more respectable members of society, but he views it as only a fair way to treat others with respect and impartiality, rarely harming others with any notions of neither ill intent nor self-righteousness. And to those whom he deeply respects and considers friends, he will freely open his wine jug and pour out a drink for celebration. Because Duke in battle is like a storm, a fearsome presence that strikes wherever he pleases and sending out waves of destruction in his wake, in which his friends will eventually come to appreciate after they toast with him in victory. However, unknown to most outsiders, he reserves a formal respect for Qin’skad’ian clan members, faithful to their traditions and mannerisms as needed; for he may make many friends and even family, but the clan will always be his home no matter where his travels take him.

Statblock Race: Metallic Dragonborn (Bronze) Class: Storm Herald Barbarian Background: Sailor (Pirate) Level: 5 Alignment: Chaotic Good HP: 80/80 | AC: 14 | Speed: 40 ft. (without heavy armor) | Initiative: +0 | Proficiency Bonus: +3 STR DEX CON INT WIS CHA 16 (+3) 10 (+0) 18 (+4) 8 (-1) 10 (+0) 13 (+1) Saving Throw Proficiencies: Strength (+6), Constitution (+7) Skill Proficiencies: Athletics (STR) +6, Intimidation (CHA) +4, Perception (Wis) +3, Survival (Wis) +3 Languages: Common, Draconic Tool Proficiencies: Navigator's Tools, Vehicles (Water) Armor: Light, Medium, Shields Weapons: Martial, Simple Defenses: Lightning Resistance Equipment Weapons: Glaive, 2 Handaxes, 4 Javelins Armor/Clothing: None/Common Clothing Tools: Navigator's Tools, Brewer's Supplies (both bought) Explorer's Pack Sailor's Items: Belaying pin (club), Silk rope (50 feet), Small lucky stone with a hole in the center, Belt pouch Mundane Equipment (Bought): Hempen Rope (50 ft.), Chain (10 ft.), Portable ram, Block and tackle, Crowbar, Fishing Tackle, Grappling Hook, Manacles, Jug (for wine), Waterskin (for wine), 8 Bottles of fine wine, Bucket Money 347 gp, 7 sp, 3 cp Features Racial - Bronze Metallic Ancestry - Draconic Resistance (Lightning) - Breath Weapon: Effect When you take the Attack action on your turn, you can replace one of your attacks with an exhalation of magical energy. You can use your Breath Weapon 3 times per long rest. - Lightning Breath Weapon: Effect When you take the Attack action on your turn, you can replace one attack with a 15 ft. cone breath weapon. Each creature must make a DEX save (DC 15) taking 2d10 lightning damage on a fail or half as much on a success. - Metallic Breath Weapon (Lvl. 5): Effect You gain a second breath weapon. When you take the Attack action on your turn, you can replace one of your attacks with an exhalation in a 15 ft. cone. Whenever you use this trait, choose one of the options below. You can use your Metallic Breath Weapon 1 time per long rest. - Enervating Breath: Effect Each creature in the cone must succeed on a CON saving throw (DC 15) or become incapacitated until the start of your next turn. - Repulsion Breath: Effect Each creature in the cone must succeed on a STR saving throw (DC 15) or be pushed 20 ft. away from you and be knocked prone. Background - Bad Reputation: No matter where you go, people are afraid of you due to your reputation. When you are in a settlement, you can get away with minor criminal offenses, such as refusing to pay for food at a tavern or breaking down doors at a local shop, since most people will not report your activity to the authorities. Spelljammer 1st Level Feat - Tough: You gain 10 HP (2 * Character level). Barbarian Level 1 - Rage: 3 uses/long rest Effect As a bonus action enter a rage for up to 1 minute (10 rounds). You gain advantage on STR checks and saving throws (not attacks), [+2] melee damage with STR weapons, resistance to bludgeoning, piercing, slashing damage. You can't cast or concentrate on spells while raging. Your rage ends early if you are knocked unconscious or if your turn ends and you haven’t attacked a hostile creature since your last turn or taken damage since then. You can also end your rage as a bonus action. - Unarmored Defense: AC = 10 + DEX mod + CON mod + Shield bonus Barbarian Level 2 - Reckless Attack: Effect When you make your first attack on your turn, you can decide to attack recklessly, giving you advantage on melee weapon attack rolls using STR during this turn, but attack rolls against you have advantage until your next turn. - Danger Sense: Effect You have advantage on DEX saving throws against effects that you can see while not blinded, deafened, or incapacitated. Barbarian Level 3 - Primal Path: Storm Herald (Sea) - Storm Aura (Sea): Effect You gain a 10 ft. aura effect when you start your rage and as a bonus action on each of your turns. - When activated, one creature of your choice in your aura takes lightning damage (DEX DC [15] (8+PB+CON mod), half damage on success) based on your level: 3rd-1d6, 10th-2d6, 15th-3d6, and 20th-4d6. Barbarian Level 4 - Dragon Fear (Feat): Show this Increase your STR, CON, or CHA score by 1. You can expend a use of your Breath Weapon trait to roar, forcing each creature of your choice that can hear or see you within 30 ft. to make a WIS saving throw (DC 12). On failure, a target becomes frightened of you for 1 minute, or until it takes any damage (repeating the saving throw, ending on success). Barbarian Level 5 - Extra Attack - Fast Movement: Your speed increases by 10 ft. while you aren't wearing heavy armor.

J'zirr is finished, with exception to prepared spells and mundane equipment, which I will finish if chosen. Let me know if I need to do it, though, and I certainly will. I couldn't decide between this or an Argonian rogue, but I feel that a Khajiit would be more fun and have the opportunity for better one-liners, as is customary in the Elder Scrolls games. Health calculation shows (despite my convoluted method): 8(1st level)+5+6+7+8+10(Con mod 2 x 5 levels) = 44 List of useful Magic Items that are useful to J'zirr: - Nature's Mantle - Cloak of Protection +1 - Gauntlets of Ogre Power

Last minute application powers activated! Whoever said druids can't be light hearted characters? Not me. Anyways I'm marking this complete, I will throw together a proper MW sheet tonight for he minor details but all the vitals are here. I did have one question on languages, so Kara-Tur has like a jillion languages and hasn't been update in forever. Given 5e's somewhat limited ability to learn them and the nigh certainty of them not coming up (I assume) do you think I could get away with just Common? I have space in the build for 2 but would like kinda like to pick up Sylvan which costs double.

I'm curious about the ensuing role-playing, no matter if I get in or not. And, with the quality of many of the applications, I'll be greatly surprised if I get picked. So, have fun, and may you live in interesting times.

Good luck everyone. Some really cool characters and creativity.

Uncommon Magic Item: Ring of Jumping or Immovable rod

"May Rajhin's luck guide you to warm sands, friend. " Class: Druid Circle: Wildfire Race: KhajiitTabaxi Deity: Azura Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Background: Outlander Quick Points - Motivation: J'zirr has heard that a group of Argonians might reside somewhere in Faerun. He hopes they might be able to help him return with their mystical connection to the Hist. He would want to save Faerun to find them (if they even exist). They are probably just lizardmen, and there is no Hist, but he believes they are Argonian. - He is a native to Morrowind. - Chaotic Neutral doesn't mean "Chaotic Stupid." Simply, it is a distaste for all governance, as Khajiit are normally inclined. - He has a crippling addiction to Skooma & Moon Sugar and hasn't had any in months. Personality J’zirr is like most Khajiit from Nirn. He believes in few laws of men or elves, has a free spirit, and will do whatever he can to provide for his fellow slaves and friends. He also enjoys having a good time and refuses to be down about any situation. His past as a Dunmer slave allows him to stay positive about his present: It can never get that bad again. He is sharper than most, and incredibly wise—rare, for a Khajiit—and chooses to sit back and watch for the right moment instead of craft an opening with a silvery tongue. Appearance J’zirr stands at 5’10” and is particularly thin Suthay Khajiit, weighing in at 130 lbs. He is built much like an elf of faerun. He is not physically strong, but is rather agile. Instead of wearing lighter robes like most khajiit, he wears a thick breastplate covered by furs and other such trappings. He also carries a shield on his left arm and no visible weapons. He carries a small totem about his neck fashioned in the likeness of a morning star, an homage to Azura who he reveres. His fur is a dark brown/auburn color, with pitch black spots that wind about his body. His eyes are a piercing bright yellow, and seem to reflect light in the darkness. Background In the final years of the third era, J’zirr was born in slavery under a minor Telvanni householder near Tel Voth. Slavery under the Dunmer was not a pleasant experience, but J’ziir didn’t know anything different for the first fifteen years of his life. He was abused, tortured, overworked, and starved, among many other things. He lost everyone: his parents, his friends, and anyone close to him. At the age of fifteen, he broke free from his bonds when a group of reavers broke into the tower, slew the Telvanni operators, and left the slaves for dead. With help from fellow slaves, J’zirr found the key to the slave bracers, freed himself and others, and made a break for the coast. With the dust and ash from the ever-erupting Red Mountain hanging in the air, it was a difficult trek, but he made his way northwest, deep into the Ashland. Here, broken, starving, thirty, and near death, J’zirr stumbled into the Urshilaku tribe. While they usually did not traffic with outlanders or even Khajiit, the wise woman, Nibani Maesa, saw something different in J’zirr and took him in. J’zirr spent several years with the Urshilaku, growing and learning among them. He learned the Urshilaku tribe’s ways and magic, calling on the Daedric Prince Azura for power. He learned that he had a knack for Conjuration, Restoration, and Destruction, and particularly favored flame magic. Eventually, the Khajiiti wander lust called him to leave and find some of his people. Once he set out, he began adventuring around Morrowind, gaining fame and helping others, simply putting his name out to try and find some Khajiit who might know any of his relatives, but finding any would be nearly impossible, he knew, because he did not know his surname or clan names. As he traveled, news of the Nerevarine spread, and how he conquered the demon Dagoth Ur, put an end to the blight in the mountain, and left the continent and went to Akavir, but rumors could only hold so much truth. J’zirr had often wondered if he could be Nerevarine, but clearly, that was not Azura’s plan. J’zirr’s travels brought him to Cyrodiil during the height of the Oblivion Crisis, and he found himself in Cheydinall, waiting to get across the country. It was here where he was asked to join a large party that planned to close an Oblivion gate that had appeared a few miles into the forest. The journey to the gate was short, and the excursion inside the gate was relatively short. Many of the adventurers died, but J’zirr held firm. As they worked their way into the tower, the forces grew stronger, and hours rolled by. Finally, they made their way to the top of the sigil tower and removed the stone. Expecting to be teleported back, they awaited one by one as they were shunted out of Oblivion, and back to the Prime Material Plane. J’zirr, however, was not home. Looking up, he noticed the stars were not right, and there was only one moon. He was in a forest, and he could still use his magic, but the voice of Azura was not present, and he felt... emptier than usual. He scouted around, used magic to divine locations, and explored the forest. Eventually, he made his way north to Baldur’s Gate and began adventuring around the area, looking for a way back to Nirn.

GEAR Magic Item Preference: Broom of Flying*Yes I get it, but for a world traveler there's no better item. Not sure it would even be that great in this context anyways, plus I have Misty Step and other shenanigans. Cloak of Elvenkind Ring of Jumping

CHARACTER INFO Basics: Name: Elyssia Blackwind Race: Half-Elf Age: 43 Alignment: True Neutral Class: Druid, Circle of Wildfire Deity: Mielikki Level: 5 Background: Outlander Statistics: HP: 38 AC: 16 Prof: +3 Init: +2 Abilities: STR 10 DEX 14 CON 14 INT 10 WIS 18 CHA 12 Skills: Insight +7, Medicine +7, Perception +7, Stealth +5, Survival +7, Perform +4 Tools: Herbalism Kit, Lute Languages: Common, Druidic, Elven, [Whatever they speak in Kara-Tur] Feats: Magic Initiate, Fey Touched .... DESCRIPTION Appearance: Half-elven Elyssia strongly favors her human mother in looks but still enjoys the youth of elves despite having seen over forty summers. A somewhat petite woman she is thin and quick but not exactly imposing, with a talent for blending into the background. She wears simple robes of a somewhat novel cut, one she claims is favored in far Kara-Tur where she also acquired the notably exotic markings of the sun, wind, and sky upon her shoulders. While of good make and well cared for most of Elyssia's belongings are worn with time and she discards them easily when they are no longer of use. Her real treasures are more temporary still, the scent of wine lingers around Elyssia and she always seems to have some sweet or delectable treat with her. Personality: Whimsical, indulgent, insightful, self-reliant, and generally pleasant company all around Elyssia drifts through live as a leaf drifts on a breeze. A druid by faith she claims to want for nothing, and indeed seems to mean it at least as far as greater fame or fortune is concerned. While she makes good coin as a healer and adventurer she rarely keeps it for long, preferring to indulge in good wine and good food today for there might be none tomorrow. And those who know her best know she can go a month on nothing but berries and water and be just as chipper on the last day as the first. Trait: I'm always picking things up, absently fiddling with them, and sometimes accidentally breaking them. Ideal: Life is like the seasons, in constant change, and we must change with it. Bond: An injury to the unspoiled wilderness of my home is an injury to me Flaw: I am FAR too enamored of ale, wine, and other intoxicants. ... BACKGROUND A roaming druid, errant healer, part time adventurer, full time drinker, and excellent storyteller Elyssia has traveled the face of Toril for some thirty years now. Alone or with a group, on foot or under sail makes little difference to her, she travels to enjoy nature in all its forms from towering forests and boundless skies to the small life that hides in the shadow of the mightiest cities. For all its scope though hers is a quiet sort of life. Elyssia is no mighty adventuring hero out of legend, though more competent then many she prefers to avoid trouble whenever possible. She does jobs for coin as suits her, but can also go without at need. Yet where does Elyssia hail from originally? The answer is perhaps surprisingly nearby at least to inhabitants of Faerun, for Elyssia was born under the eaves of the High Forest. Occupied by elves since they first came to the Realms it is place of deep history and forest kingdoms long vanished. Yet in the shadows of the forest sententels small elven villages endure sheltered out of sight and out of mind from the wider world around them. Elyssia's father heads such a village in the region of Tall Trees that was once capital of Eaerlann. Over two score years prior he rescued an adventurer known as Isami the Blackwind. A human woman her adventures had brought her all the way from distant Kara-Tur beyond the bounds of Faerun to the east. While Isami was healing she bonded with her savior and in time romance blossomed and Elyssia was born. While her near death experience had cured Isami's wanderlust and taste for adventure the same could not be said of her daughter, who grew up begging her mother for tales of their distant homeland. This worried her father who sent her to the local druids for education hoping she would learn to appreciate the forest around her and keep her feet planted. This plan half worked, Elyssia grew to love and revere nature fiercely but while it tempered her wanderlust with skill and judgement it did nothing to diminish its ardor. Finally when Elyssia was thirteen she declared she was off to see her maternal ancestors and vanished from the High Forest. Eventually word came through the druid circle that she had reached Cormyr and then Rasheman and then nothing. It would be ten years before Elyssia returned home. She'd made it to Kara-Tur of course and filled her small village with tales of it as her mother once had. She would not remain home for long though, for Elyssia discovered her feet began to itch if they stayed in place too long and in her years abroad she'd picked up certain tastes for fine food and drink that ill suited a small elven village. Within six months Elyssia was on the move again. North, south, west, her journeys have taken her away for years at a time, and twenty years later she shows little signs of stopping. Of late Elyssia has recently returned from Maztica for one of her periodic stops home to visit her father and aging mother. Heading south she fell in with a group of her fellow druids heading south to oversee a change of leadership at a small grove along the River Chionthar near the Shadowlands. Having decided to move on to Baldur's Gate and take ship to parts unknown Elyssia was asked to carry a message to a druid believed to have fallen in with some adventurers there. The small matter of a mind flayer invasion that followed before she could leave the city has rather delayed her plans and she has been spending her time working as a healer for the wounded city.

So, just another day for last minute touches or apps. After selection I would like to get IC going Wednesday night or Thursday morning. Tough choices!

Brigitte is ready for review. If there is anything that needs to be changed, please let me know.