Quetzal

Starting gold was spent on the following. 15 gp to start -10 gp for a shield -3 gp for a horn 2 gp left!

Overall plan is to go Path of the Storm barbarian! Heres some alternative art for the goatboy, in a more cartoony style, to give a better idea of what he looks like in person. I still want to color the one in his app though!

If I had to suggest a place that might fit the vibe described... Razmiran is a country ruled by the 'living god' Razmir, and its government is very corrupt, and its people not treated very well. There could be places there lawless enough where the local law just rounds up peasantry to be a 'militia' to cut costs, and fill the pockets of the Razmiran priests. There is also Isger, which is a vassal to a much more powerful country called Cheliax, and is a more rugged country that isn't well governed, or funded in most places that aren't already heavily developed. More of a forgotten hinterland that just gets mined for resources. I could see a local governor or politician enforcing military service on the locals, especially if the city was under threat. 

Pelaombros' app is done and ready for review. I might update the art and some point when I can find the time to color it, but otherwise all done.

Pelaombros Liminal Nomad, Local Garbage-raiding Cryptid & Petty Thief     "Need an adrenaline junkie someone who is fearless enough to chase a tornado & fall for disaster willing to hold on when I recklessly strike, like lightning. After my catastrophic personalities storm, they will whisper - "I love thunder."   BARBARIAN 1 Medium fey male (Satyr), neutral good Armor Class 13 (15 with shield) Hit Points 14 ( 1d12 + 2 ) Speed 35' ft. Senses none Languages common, sylvan Proficiency Bonus +2   ABILITIES & SKILLS  Proficiency Bonus: +2 Strength 16 (+3) Save +5  Athletics +5 Dexterity 12 (+1)  Save +1  Acrobatics +1 | Sleight of Hand +1 | Stealth +3 Constitution 14 (+2) Save +4  No skills associated. Intelligence 10 (+0) Save +0  Arcana +0 | History +0 | Investigation +0 | Nature +2 | Religion +0 Wisdom 10 (+0) Save +0  Animal Handling +0 | Insight +0 | Medicine +0 | Perception +0 | Survival +0 Charisma 14 (+2)  Save +2  Deception +2 | Intimidation +4 | Performance +4 | Persuasion +4 * Includes +1 from Luckstone / ** Includes +1 from Luckstone and Jack of all Trades / (E) denotes expertise. / Bold denotes proficiency.   PROFICIENCIES & ABILITIES  PROFICIENCIES Tools Dice set, Thieves' Tools  Instruments Horn Weapons Martial & Simple Weapons Armors Light & Medium Armor, Shields BARBARIAN CLASS ABILITIES RageRage: 1 Bonus Action Uses: 2 / Long Rest Damage:+2 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 DefenseWhile not wearing armor, your AC equals 10 + DEX modifier + CON modifier + any shield bonus. RACIAL TRAITS RamRam: 1 Action You can use your head and horns to make unarmed strikes. When you hit with them, you deal 1d6+3 bludgeoning damage. | Magic ResistanceYou have advantage on saving throws against spells. | Mirthful LeapsWhenever you make a long jump or a high jump, you can roll a d8 and add the number rolled to the number of feet you cover, even when making a standing jump. This extra distance costs movement as normal. | RevelerProficiency - Horn As an embodiment of revelry, you have proficiency in the Performance and Persuasion skills, and you have proficiency with one musical instrument of your choice. FEATS None   WEAPONS WEAPONS Trident +5 to hit for (1d6+3) piercing damage. | Martial, thrown (20/60), versatile Ram +5 to hit for (1d6+3) bludgeoning damage. | Unarmed Javelin +5 to hit for (1d6+3) piercing damage. | Simple, thrown (30/120)   SPELLS None * Denotes a Midgard spell. / (C) Denotes concentration. / (R) Denotes reaction spell. / (B) Denotes bonus action spell.   EQUIPMENT & ENCUMBERANCE TOTAL ENCUMBERANCE (89.04 lbs.) Weight: 89.04 lbs. / 240 lbs. max. (15 x STR Score) Status: Unencumbered Penalty: None MONEY POUCH (.04 lbs.) Copper: 0 | Silver: 0 | Gold: 2 | Obsidian: 0 | Platinum: 0 (2 Coins x .02 lbs. = .04 lbs. Total Weight) EQUIPEMENT READIED (28 lbs.) Equipped items can be retrieved with a manipulate item interaction. Armor (9 lbs.) Dark Common Clothes - 3 lbs. | Shield - 6 lbs. Weapons (14 lbs.) Trident - 4 lbs. | (5) Javelin - 10 lb. Readied Items (5 lbs.) Crowbar - 5 lbs. EQUIPMENT STORED (61 lbs.) Stored items can be retrieved with an action. In Backpack (27 lbs.) Backpack - 5 lbs. | Mess Kit - 1 lbs. | (10) Rations - 20 lbs | Tinderbox - 1 lb. Strapped to Backpack (34 lbs.) Waterskin - 5 lbs. | Hempen Rope - 10 lbs. | Bedroll - 7 lb. | (10) Torches - 10 lbs. | Horn - 2 lbs. EQUIPMENT NOT CARRIED (--) None * Denotes magic item (see below)   MAGIC ITEMS NON-ATTUNED None ATTUNED (0/3) None   APPEARANCE Age He's lost count, but somewhere around 23 Summers | Height 5' 1" | Weight 104 lbs. | Hair Stormy | Eyes Electric Lavender | Complexion Dark Gray Pelaombros is small of stature, but surprisingly sturdy with a muscled build, much like a wiry and rugged goat which he very much resembles. Dusky skinned like a dark elf, his face is partially hidden behind the puffy wool of his hair, which like his coat is a mottled mix of grays, blues, and purples as dark and foreboding as a thundercloud. His face, what you can see of it anyway, is angular, again almost elven save for the goatish nose, and the large tufted ears. The eyes you can see under that mop of hair are pale, a mix of pink and lavender, shocking bright in his dark complexion. Twin horns jagged horns rise from his wooly crown, pale pink almost glass or crystal like in their composition, and seeming to glow with electric light whenever the satyr grows angry. He wears little in the way of clothing, naturally insulated with a healthy amount of wool, but he is partial to his dark cloak, knitted gray and blue, that he often drapes over one or both shoulders. It has a number of pockets on the inner lining, useful for keeping small things, and whatever cant fit goes easily inside his backpack. His only force of arms, other than the formidable looking horns, are a trident and several javelins he carries, along with a small wooden shield in the shape of a sunflower. These, like the backpack and its contents, are gifts from his mother, for the journey into the wider world, to help keep him safe and provided for.    BACKGROUND LOCAL BRIGAND Source Adventure Path You hail from the River Kingdoms or the more lawless reaches of Brevoy. Your life has been hard. You know how to ambush travelers, bully traders, avoid the law, and camp where no one can find you. Recently, you’ve run into some trouble, either with the law or with other bandits, and you’re looking to get away to somewhere no one would ever think to look for you. An expedition into the rugged wilderness seems like a perfect way to lie low until the trouble blows over. Personality Traits: I hide scraps of food and trinkets away in my pockets. I don’t pay attention to the risks in a situation. Never tell me the odds. I’m driven by a wanderlust that led me away from home. Ideals: People. I help the people who help me — that’s what keeps us alive. Freedom. Chains are meant to be broken, as are those who would forge them. Charity. I steal from the wealthy so that I can help people in need. Bonds: I have a family, but I have no idea where they are. One day, I hope to see them again. I protect those who cannot protect themselves. Flaws: It’s not stealing when someone needs it to live, and needs it more than someone else. There’s no room for caution in a life lived to the fullest. Background Feature: Group Coercion - You have advantage on any charisma-based skill check against a group of two or more. BACKSTORY Is desire the provenance of mortals alone? Or can the wind dream of wild romance? The storm ache for the embrace of a lover? Maybe so. Maybe such things happen in the untamed and overgrown places of the world where the grip of mortals is the weakest. For once, in the Stolen Lands, a tumultuous being of cloud and lightning and a gentle child of the First World, both being far from home, found comfort in each other. One was brash and strong where the other was languid and thoughtful, a rare union of elemental and fey. Sadly, the faun could not be with her lover forever, for he could visit only when the dark clouds gathered. So she turned longing eyes to the sky and wished for rain. Now and then her wish was granted, and one more wish besides, for their familiarity bore remarkable fruit.   A child, a faun like his mother, and fur dark as a thunderhead. Pelaombros they called him, their little raincloud. So the love between the two became love shared by three, and soon it was both mother and son who watched the skies and wished for rain. And the rain would always come, though sometimes it took days or weeks, but the boy's father always came with it. To lift and embrace him in the breeze, and tickle him with static. And when the rain was gone, he could return to the warm wisdom of his mother, who taught him little things about life in the forest. The mushrooms that sprouted after his fathers visits? What were they called? The name of the birds who sang their songs above their heads, and the way to walk small and quiet as a mouse that fears the owl. He learned these things, and he grew to a lanky lad with budding horns that sparked occasionally with his father's temper.   So things were, until the day of a torrential downpour beat through the canopy to the forest floor, and though thunder crashed, and the flash of lightning blazed distantly,  the boy's sire did not appear. His mother, disquieted, bade him hide and wait, and vanished into the wood. So he hid as a mouse hides, confused and nervous, heart pounding nearly as loud as the rain. Hours he waited, until the storm broke, and his mother reappeared, bedraggled and sobbing. She carried his father's horn with her, a twisted spiraling thing like lightning glass, apparently broken from his body by some great force. In her grief, she'd not tell him what happened, only that the storm was ended, and they'd not see its like again. Rain now, would just be rain, falling like tears. The mushrooms names didn't matter, and the song of the birds just echoed emptily off the trees.   Fey are creatures of great emotion, and Pelaombros had always been a somewhat gloomy boy. Perhaps his partly elemental nature lent him toward dark and drear, or perhaps like his father he was destined to be somewhat of a tempest. Often he was morose, and withdrawn, steady and quiet. But after the storm stopped visiting, sometimes without warning something as small as a butterfly caught in a spiders web could provoke reckless acts of kindness or bravery, sudden flares of temper in opposition to some small cruelty or injustice that threatened what he saw as innocent. Only his mothers love, grieving as it was, warmed him from bitterness, but children can only stay with their mothers for so long, and its the nature of the storm to go where the wind takes it. A sense of loneliness and restlessness eventually caused him to say his goodbyes, and his hooves carried him from the glade he knew... A troubled wanderer, seeking something he couldn't define, and so he stumbled into the southern reaches of Brevoy.   The first settlement he came across fascinated him. So many people, for a lonely heart seeking friendship and connection, seemed an oasis in a desert, but he had no experience with mortals. Had never seen much more than a hunter or two, watching from hiding with his mother, as they tramped noisily through the brambles. Its a terrible thing to feel alone surrounded by so many souls, unsure how to reach out, how to be noticed. He became a ghost in the night, learning what he could and observing under cover of dark. The mortal town wasn't as abundant as the forest, and being the bold soul he was, began take little things in order to survive. A discarded teacup for the flower pattern on the porcelain, a bottle of milk delivered in the early morn to someone's doorstep to slake his thirst, the day old bread from the bakery for his hungry belly. Eventually he was taking a bit more, not just for himself but to leave covertly for those mortals who seemed as in need and lonely as him. They were not brave enough to take it themselves, but that did not make them less deserving to live, and maybe one day he'd be brave enough himself to talk to one of them. Though he strove to keep his night-time occupation of the settlement a secret, soon enough some people were grumbling about some audacious creature rifling through their bins at night, maybe a goblin or a huge raccoon, while others were certain it was some variety of spirit that left gifts for the needy.    Things came to a head one night, when following cries of pain, he came upon one man being beaten by another. It seemed an unfair fight, for one was on the floor begging, and the other had some sort of club and chains. It seemed without mercy. It seemed wrong. He reacted without thinking, lowered his head, and in a fury struck the aggressor from behind, knocking them to the floor. Before he could help the startled and wounded victim, the villain he'd struck was whistling, and there were more whistles and shouts, and several more mortals with clubs and chains came running from around the street corner. They shouted and blinded him with lights, and something sharp scratched his shoulder as it passed him. Riled as he was, he never faced such a confrontation before, and his mother's wisdom won out over the fire in his heart. He sought escape by charging at them and bowling through them. Nimble hooves carried him though the maze of streets and alleys until his temper cooled, and heart pounding, he hid silent as a mouse until the pursuit had lost him.   Shook up as he was in the days that followed by that encounter, he also found it encouraging. Mortals had seen him! He had let himself be seen, had even been on the verge of helping and meeting one before he'd had to flee. It shamed him that he hadn't helped the beaten man, and that shame hardened his resolve. Tales were spreading, of some kind of wild beastman who stalked the streets at night, and even attacked some of the city guard. Emboldened, he cloaked himself, hiding his identity in swathes of dark fabric he'd liberated from someone's clothesline, and began to walk the streets during the day, though he wisely kept his thieving to the darker hours, which would have made his mother sigh in relief had she known. One day, bravely, he managed a nod in response to a good morning, on another a wave at a passersby that wasn't returned. Walking the city by day was so much more lively than by night. People shouting by carts full of goods, children playing in the streets, the smell of warm fresh food, and the sound of hundreds of voices as beautiful a sound as the birdsong of his mother's glade. This was the kind of life he wanted, to live in a city with these mortals, to be part of a community, where maybe he wouldn't feel so alone. It was the change of scenery he'd desperately needed. He could make it happen, he just had to seize it by the horns.   By chance he heard rumor of a gathering of brave souls for some great endeavor, and curious, yearning to meet someone, be part of anything, be noticed by anyone, he followed the crowds to a place where would-be adventurer's gathered to see what would be.  

If our character starts with some money from their class, is it okay if we spend it on additional equipment prior to the games start? For example, a shield?