Little_Rudo

  Privet Beccari Firbolg Druid Chaotic Good Hermit The Witch of the Pale Wood AC: 15 (Leather & Shield) | HP: 10/10 (1d8+2) | Speed: 30' Senses: Passive Perception 14, Insight 14, Investigation 11 Str: 11 (+0) | Dex: 14 (+2) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 12 (+1) | Wis: 18 (+4) | Cha: 12 (+1) Languages: Common, Druidic, Giant, Sylvan   "Neither, Sir..." The r rolls curiously on Privet's tongue as she realizes she does not know the knight's name... and, after a long moment, sighs and shrugs. "Neither. I am born of Falkovnia. The soil, the soot, the sky... they speak to me. They say the mists will not fall this next day. Perhaps." She seems to ever favor that word. Falkovnia, Barovia, all the domains are places ruled by many perhaps. Many terrible, horrible perhaps. Of course, to rage against them? One might as well rage against a river for flowing where it will. These wanderers are foolish. They will learn the ways and settle. Or they will die. When the companions speak of wandering into the mists, the young woman clucks and shakes her head. "No no no. Do not say such fool things, they make chickens laugh. The mists bring the dead to us and bring wanderers away. The dead are horrid, yes, but are they the worst that you can find in the mist? ...we shall see one day maybe, but for now, I will take a night of horror and many days of harsh living. The land provides if you ask." She says, firm and convinced.  

Rad! I figured it would come down to whether or not you wanted the mist to be a surprise the players would have to overcome or something they could prepare for. Either way, if I guessed wrong, it'd be easy to just say that part of this pre-game is non-canon. :)

Privet Beccari Firbolg Druid Chaotic Good Hermit The Witch of the Pale Wood AC: 15 (Leather & Shield) | HP: 10/10 (1d8+2) | Speed: 30' Senses: Passive Perception 14, Insight 14, Investigation 11 Str: 11 (+0) | Dex: 14 (+2) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 12 (+1) | Wis: 18 (+4) | Cha: 12 (+1) Languages: Common, Druidic, Giant, Sylvan   Setare's toothy smile and Amelia's firm commitment to fight are both met with a polite, passive nod from Privet. Her mouth twitches slightly, the faintest suggestion of a smile, as she looks to both them. "So you are the hunters, then. Not the cattle." She muses, hands gripping the straps of her knapsack, fingers rubbing the leather straps thoughtfully. Many wanderers do not even survive to find safe-haven. These are speaking of jumping right back into the danger. "You may wish to head to Lekar, then, near the Tors. The Talons make their base there. They hunt the undead, protect the innocents... all sorts of lovely things." That word, lovely, simmers sharply on Privet's tongue until she spats it out. If she carries anger or fear, though, it does not show in her meek demeanor. "Then you have safety in numbers, and some coin and food to spare. Become the sheep-dogs to the cattle. If that's your way." Pausing for a moment in thought, Privet raises her left hand, palm up. The air grows heavy as her wide eyes narrow. "Ceird draoithe." The wind around her stirs, causing her heavy dry hair to shift and her skirts and shawl to swish. In her hand, a flower blossoms as a sharp, sweet, refreshing smell fills their corner of the Inn. "No Mist through tomorrow, at the least. If you leave now you might have safe travels." She reasons, lowering her hand and gripping her shawl. "...perhaps." OOC Movement: — Action: Casts Druidcraft, specifically "You create a tiny, harmless sensory effect that predicts what the weather will be at your location for the next 24 hours." Bonus Action: — Reaction: — Regarding Druidcraft and the Mists, if accepted, I will confirm with the DM whether or not Druidcraft's weather prediction can predict the mists themselves. For this thread, at least at this time, Privet believes that it does.  

I'm a bit younger but only a bit. I got into D&D via Play by Post - started with an EZBoard Digimon RPG in my youth, which turned into an invite to someone's high fantasy EZBoard game when the LotR movies were coming out and making that big. I distinctly remember, as someone who didn't grow up a fan of fantasy, being confused why elves were so popular... because I could only picture the Santa's and Kiebler varieties. Oh, little Little_Rudo, how far we've come...

I like these "unregulated, loose RP threads" as a way to find our character's voices before a game begins, heaven knows I need some time writing as a character to get into their head. I just get worried when they're a part of the game application process, since a) this type of interaction (a dialogue between PCs with minimal NPC or world interaction) is a very small part of how typical games go, so it's not a great barometer of how well a PC or PCs will work in the proper game, and b) the fact that they're dialogue-heavy mean they really strongly favor those who can post and respond a lot. Glad to have the option to participate, I'd just hate to lose out on being a game because of them when I don't think they're a great selection criteria.

I feel just as awkward having Privet jump into a conversation as I do IRL. 😅

Privet Beccari Firbolg Druid Chaotic Good Hermit The Witch of the Pale Wood AC: 15 (Leather & Shield) | HP: 10/10 (1d8+2) | Speed: 30' Senses: Passive Perception 14, Insight 14, Investigation 11 Str: 11 (+0) | Dex: 14 (+2) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 12 (+1) | Wis: 18 (+4) | Cha: 12 (+1) Languages: Common, Druidic, Giant, Sylvan "She's right, you know." After rather shamelessly listening in on Amelia and Setare's discussion, Privet had been inching her way closer, oddly silent considering she stands a fair bit taller than most. Of course, given her meek nature and that she has a good hunch, it is a fair bit less intimidating. Finally, at a pause, she steps up and speaks in a hushed tone, accent thick with local flavor. "Raging against the dead? You may as well rage against the early frost or a hungry wolf stealing a chicken when the gates are left open. That is just the way of our land. We build cellars and sturdy homes when we can. We hide and we defend in the monthly Mists. Then we continue living, for it is all we do." She takes a long sip of her brandy, easily taking the sour taste without a flinch as she takes in the pair of wanderers. So many here. Many young, but many armed and ready to fight, it seems. "You lot might just survive the next Mists. Interesting. If not, I hope your suffering is short." She raises her glass in a meager toast then downs the rest of the drink.

She should be ready for your review now! Please let me know if I got anything wrong or should modify anything. I originally had a more detailed background, but I decided to go more high-level and aim for 'vibes' instead of granular details that ultimately won't matter much. I think it works better for our little tragi-witch. :)

Privet Beccari Firbolg Druid Chaotic Good Hermit The Witch of the Pale Wood AC: 15 (Leather & Shield) | HP: 10/10 (1d8+2) | Speed: 30' Senses: Passive Perception 14, Insight 14, Investigation 11 Str: 11 (+0) | Dex: 14 (+2) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 12 (+1) | Wis: 18 (+4) | Cha: 12 (+1) Languages: Common, Druidic, Giant, Sylvan   Flickering lights in the window. Loud, if somber, conversations. Privet stares at the shadow of The Wightwatcher Inn as she approaches, a bundle of kindling under one arm and her white-wood staff in another. She has been to this place often in the past few months; it has given her a roof and some meals in exchange for tending the garden and helping in the kitchens, yet for the first time the place feels alive. "Curious." The tall woman's steps are silent as she approaches from the woods, pausing as she walks 'round the back of the Inn to drop her bundle beside the kitchen door. Meat would need the kindling for the dinner fires, but that could come later. With a practices flourish, Privet shakes the bright-but-faded blanket that had held the wood and twirls it dramatically to land on her shoulders, a comfortable shawl with bits of wood and dirt and other dirty things. This fits the haggard, mended and worn look of the young woman well. The woman's shadow seems menacing through the windows as she walks 'round the front, taking the entire doorway as she steps inside. She stands over seven feet, though narrow shoulders and pale skin make it clear she does not tower; she seems to shrink beneath the eyes of the many guests, now second-guessing her own decision to not go straight to the kitchen. Strangers. Wanderers. The Mists were not yet here, but their blessings had come early. "Curiouser." Walking to the bar, Kazzador is already halfway through pouring her a glass something dark and thick, an old favorite between the pair. With wide eyes, Privet watches those gathered as she takes a sip, then murmurs aloud. "...what tree did all these leaves fall from?"

Privet Beccari Firbolg Hermit Druid AC: 15 (Leather & Shield) | HP: 10/10 (1d8+2) | Speed: 30' Senses: Passive Perception 14, Insight 14, Investigation 11 Str: 11 (+0) | Dex: 14 (+2) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 12 (+1) | Wis: 18 (+4) | Cha: 12 (+1) Languages: Common, Druidic, Giant, Sylvan  

One further question. For better or worse, my character was raised in Falkovnia, and may or may not be a true native. I'm guessing from the Overview the characters that it's expected we would be people coming in from abroad. Is there anything I should try to do, or avoid, to make sure my characters can meet up with the party? Or just figure that out once we've been accepted? Privet is a bit of an oddball outsider even among her folk, so I don't expect her to have a huge advantage via being a local.

  Privet Beccari Firbolg Druid 1 Circle of Spores Chaotic Good Hermit The Witch of the Pale Wood Character Sheet (D&D Beyond) Subclass Speculation I'm currently torn between Circle of the Land and Circle of Spores to show her unique connection to the land of Falkovnia. Let me know if you have thoughts! I feel Spores fits well for the concept of a Druid tied to a corrupted land, but I worry about picking a subclass that emphasizes one damage type (necrotic) that might be commonly resisted or immune during the campaign. Edit: On further consideration, Circle of Spores seems like the clear thematic fit. I'm fully open to reconsidering when we see the party's set up though! Description:  Privet is a tall, slender young woman who is sometimes seen wandering the Vigila Forest between the mist-falls. Though she stands over seven feet tall, none would say she towers over them; she is lanky and meek, trying to take up as little space as possible in spite of her frame. Her long green hair is near-dead, feels like hay and is forever tangled and mangled, resembling a bird's nest more than a maiden's mane. She is always wearing a simple dress, layered skirt and a number of shawls of Vistani make. Her only jewelry is a simple necklace with a wooden butterfly charm, a gift from her father on her birth day; she otherwise goes ungroomed and unadorned. The shirking part-giant woman has a demeanor as meek and mild as her stance. She was terribly shy even before being driven into the the forests she now calls home. Now, she watches strangers with wide eyes, always taking a half-step back when approached. She has taken to carrying a staff and a makeshift wooden shield, but she weilds neither expertly, seeming incredibly uncomfortable with the thought of bearing arms against another. She would much rather disappear into the mists and the shadows of trees to hide. She is most at ease in nature, speaking to the trees and the birds as easily as most would talk to their closest family, and the greater the crowd the more she longs for the wood. Plothook:  Privet Beccari is a strange, ethereal woman. She draws not just gifts but her very life from the natural forces of Falkovnia. While she is rooted (both figuratively and somewhat literally) in the land, her heart yearns to explore, to seek out the Mists and the lands beyond... but what would this mean for her? Her gifts? Her life? Regardless, she is both feared and desired as a witch by the common folk, able to bring healing and medicine but also the terrible force of nature in her hands. Backstory:  Somewhere far through the Mists, in another of the countless Domains of Dread, a Vistani caravan mourned. Their matriarch Suma had finally entered labor at dawn after a too-long pregnancy. Now, Suma wept silently as her husband and brothers dug their child's grave. Stillborn. A horror most mundane, but no less a horror for eager parents. As the men dug their dirt and sang their hymns, a voice called out: The Mists! They come! Shaking and sobbing, Suma stepped beside the hole, lowering the infant bundled in Vistani blankets into the hole. They had just a minute to shovel the dirt back onto the grave before clambering into their wagon, speeding away from the Mist's edge as it overcame the graveyard... Privet was plagued by many nicknames as a child: Witch. Foundling. But most importantly, she was Little Privet, youngest daughter taken in by the Beccari family. They were but one of a dozen farming families who made their lives in a commune near the Vigila Forest; an idyllic gathering that hid in cellars beneath their homes each Mist, cultivated the lands between, and worked hard to appease the Talons to leave them be and not force them to Morfenzi. The strange inhuman girl had been found in a hole in a coniferous tree in the wood; pale, wailing and very much alive, to the surprise of those soldiers who found her! They carried her to the commune hoping for answers, and found none, but the moment Irina Beccari saw the babe she refused to let her leave with the soldiers and no hope of a home. Irina and her husband Dmitri took Privet in as their own daughter, raising her with little mind that the strange girl was clearly not human and soon grew taller and stronger than even her eldest brothers. She was clearly of the living, and in Falkovnia, those alive were strongest together. Privet was certainly the strangest girl of the commune. Though the other families were wise enough to not say anything to anger Dmitri, for they needed all hands they could for each months' Mist-fall, they certainly spoke with their children about the youngest Beccari girl. Others gave her a wide berth, and while her brothers were rather protective of their youngest sister, there was enough work that she often had no other peers to play with. If this hurt the girl, though, she hid her pain well. She was fascinated by natural things: Talking to the chickens, tending the lone cow, and wandering the nearby Vigila Forest from dawn till dusk when time and chores allowed. Often her mother would have to call her name for minutes to draw her from beneath the boughs. There, where a thick fog often dwelled and the trees blotted out the sun, Privet felt truly safe and at home. She spoke to the trees; she was certain they heard her. The large coniferous trees felt strong beneath her fingers, and she could call to them, moving their branches and causing them to stir. Even their roots could make the ground tremble beneath her feet. She knew better than to touch the ring of pale trees, but they always spoke loudest to her, calling her... seeing them out of the corner of her filled her with both fear and awe of something she could not see. Mostly though, she wondered. She had been found here. She sometimes found old belongings and bones within the wood, different from the remains of undead she was used to finding elsewhere. Were these travelers like her? Did they belong to another realm? And was that realm where she belonged as well? She had to wonder. This is how Privet was, through childhood and into her young adult years. She never thought of marriage or schooling like other girls; her future was one of vague uncertainty, as were most young people in Falkovnia. Talk in the commune had turned over the years; neighbors were growing older, and as some of the children came to lead their households, they urged the commune to go to Morfenzi together, using their combined bargaining to convince the Talons to give them a more comfortable life than most. As each month passed with a fearful night hidden in cellars while the dead roamed and tore through their farms, ruining homes and farmland alike, the elders began to be worn down by these arguments for comfort. The Beccari were the last of the holdouts, and one evening Privet learned why; she heard her parents arguing... about her. They both wanted the comfort and safety of Morfenzi, the farmland was too destroyed to hold much value for descendants. But they feared what the Talons would think of a strange inhuman girl like Privet. Would she even be allowed to join? Or, when they met the tall pale girl with an odd affinity for the soil and the beast, would they see her as a monster and slay her? Rather than listen for their decision, Privet knew her only choice... she bundled her belongings and disappeared into the night, leaving for the depths of Vigila Forest, to give her parents no reason to hold the commune. The next morning her mother called for her to come home, and her cries carried hoarse and mournful long into the night. But Privet did not leave the woods. She had returned to her true home. Eventually, the cries stopped, and the woods welcomed their daughter home. Fears and Failures:  Buried Alive: Privet has always been afraid of dark, confined places. The monthly visits to the cellar while the undead roamed always terrified the girl; her tears and cries were the most emotive her family had ever seen her. She often has nightmares of being bound and buried by towering figures in the soil. She avoids small shadowy spaces whenever possible. Abandonment: While Privet seems aloof and shy, she is truthfully terrified... not necessarily of people, but of forming bonds and those bonds being broken. There was no hiding the Firbolg girl was not a true-born daughter of the Beccari family, but her mama and papa loved her like one of their own, her strange appearances and oddities and all. All it took was spreading rumors, her own panicking, the movement of the earth in response to her cries of fear... and that lifelong relationship burned away, leaving them no less fearful of her than the crowd, at least in her eyes. She now fears letting others close, lest they turn on her all the same. Rumors: The Podling: Those who know the horrors of Ravenloft well know of the Bodytaker Plant, a horrid organism that looks like vegetation, consumes people and births a 'podling' that grows into a terrible replication of the person. Some neighbors whispered that the orphaned babe from the woods must be a fresh podling, perhaps of the Montesori's daughter who left a letter claiming to have run away with a Vistani boy some moons ago. Of course, this rumor may have simply been the Montesori's own way of coming to terms with their daughter being stolen by such a heathenous people, but who can blame them? The Blight Witch: Those who were neighbors of the Beccari family before their commune was relocated still whisper of the strange happenings with the family's now-missing adopted daughter. Remember when Zorya's cow caught ill and died during the winter? Or thirteen chickens went missing the night of the Mist even though the barn they were locked away in was never breached? What of the meat spoiling the very day Privet's menses began? They speak in hush tone of the witch who walked among the family; the family themselves rarely speak of Privet, whether due to agreeing with the rumors after seeing the earth react to her fear, or out of shame for abandoning their Little Privet. Details:  Music: Privet's soul sounds like folk music and ancient, too-terrifying tales of mortality. Bayu Bayushki Bayu Green Man Pictures: Alternative Character Art:   Attire: Equipment:

I'm roughing out some ideas. Regarding the zombie legions who come from the mists, what happens to people who die within Falkovnia? Is there the traditional zombie tropes of someone who dies rising as a zombie, possibly after being bit? Or are the undead seemingly a mindless horde of monsters? Edit: I ran with a different idea, so you're welcome to answer if you wish but no pressure if you'd rather leave this mysterious. :)

Iacta alea est... 16, 14, 14, 12, 11, 11

It certainly doesn't have to, but that's what would get me to participate. I just don't play other systems these days, and I feel like this wouldn't be an awesome exposure to a new system. But you totally have my blessing to run this concept in another system if you wish! Your comment did help me draw the line between this idea and my love of rogue-likes. 😄