Drifter Dwarf

Done with the application page. Let me know if anything missing. I'll start crunching through the mechanics, stats, character sheet stuff in a few days.

I had saw the comment about firearms and was considering for my artificer, but I also saw thought I saw in the equipment section to take your class gear. Are their backgrounds or classes which start with a firearm? I thought they were rather expensive so I didn't see how a level 2 would have one. My lack of 5E experience might be showing :)

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Tryne Knight - Half-Elf Urchin Artificer Name: Tryne Knight Character Concept: Born into a slum and living on the street, Tryne has spent his life thus far as a scrapper, digging through garbage and wrecks to find useful components for either sale or his own projects. A recent find has given him the funds to get out and take an opportunity to do something more than die in the sewer like so many around him. Race, Background, Subclass Class: Half-Elf Urchin Artificer (Future Battle Smith) Description: A handsome young man with an athletic build standing roughly 6' tall with clean human features and only the trace of elvish around the ears, Tryne's most striking feature is the tangle of bright orange, spiky hair on his head. Normally something you might find on a fire genasi it is impossible to tell if it is just naturally like this or if Tryne does it on purpose. Tryne always wears goggles with orange tinged lens, matching his hair but making it impossible to see his clear blue eyes. Tryne always wears armor which is a clash of two conflicting styles. Every piece is meticulously cleaned, finely polished, displaying runes or symbols of fire or other magical elements and nothing matches. The left gauntlet and pauldron appear to be plate armor, but not from the same set. The main armor is scale mail, but the various protective metal plates are a mix of at least 3 different styles layered together in a surprisingly detailed pattern. His right glove is made of fine leather that you might expect to see on a noble or knight. The shield strapped to his back is polished steal decorated with carved runes of elemental magic. Your Character’s Plothook: Tryne with an enthusiastic smile, "Anywhere is better than here, but a whole crashed airship of salvage, lost signal of technology, and a town not at the end of someone else's sewer pipe. Sign me up!" Oakhurst is a bustling, turn-of-the-century town located in what is otherwise an ancient, war-torn, and undoubtedly haunted frontier realm, the Mournlands. There is opportunity, riches, and adventure abound for those brave enough to risk life and limb. An airship named the Gigantic went down over the Red Scale Canyons. Aboard the vessel were several prominent aristocrats, industrialists, and various other well-ado socialites from Sharn. Naturally, this has caused quite a stir in the upper-echelons of the City of Towers! A cryptic signal has been projected from somewhere deep within the mountains whereupon lies the Sunless Citadel. Warforged, artificers, and the technologically-inclined seemed to have been singled out for the transmission. Past is Prologue: Tryne sat in his usual bar with his mates around their usual table. The bar is a dive, as was everywhere in this neighborhood, but the guards and the gangers all left it alone, so it had become their normal drinking location. Tryne had some extra coin from selling a load of scrap, but still drank the cheapest beer they had. He needed that money for his projects, to buy those things he could not make, find, or "liberate". After a few rounds, they started chatting about life and other things... Where did Tryne come from and what was up with that hair? Tryne laughed, "Always that question. Well, I'm from here, just like some of you. Lived in that old orphanage run by Mother Hanna, the one that the gangers avoid. Tough old lady still runs the place. First memories I have is her switch on my ass." The half elf paused thinking back, "Most kids there have no idea where they come from at all, no records, found in an alley some where. Guess I'm lucky, my ma dropped me off at the door and Mother Hanna remembered her." Tryne pointed at his head, "Same hair as me and she had seen her around the neighborhood over the years. Worked as an entertainer at a club on the east side. I tracked her down once. I was about 10 or so and walked all the way over there looking for someone with my hair." Tryne's voice went soft and he gazed into the candle on the table, "Found her taking a break behind the club, same hair, same eyes, she just looked at me for a long time with me looking at her. She gave me a little nod, then turned and went back in the club." Tryne returned his gaze to his drink, taking a gulp and a shrug. "Got mugged on the way back and beat to a pulp." What about his last name Knight? Tryne grinned widely, "Oh, I picked that myself. Sounded better than Tryne Gutter Trash. No idea who dad was, except I know he wasn't a dwarf since I can't grow a beard for squat. Has a nice ring to it and who knows, maybe I'll be one someday." How did he learn all that tech stuff and become a scrapper? A waitress brought a fresh beer as Tryne considered the question. "Scrapping came first. Lots of us would sneak through the streets looking through the trash. Once I got older, I'd range over to the upper district. There are some holes in the walls we could get through. Rich folk throw away all kinds of stuff. Fences would pay us cheep for the stuff." The fiery haired scrapper made some motions with his hands, "Some things I would keep, take them apart, put them back together. I'd do it a dozen times the right way, then I'd do it a bunch of different ways." Tryne paused and pointed at one of the listeners, "You know that alley behind old Ozlo's shop, the one with the runes which blow people up? I figured out how to get past those, so I had a stash in his alley. Old dwarf caught me, I thought I was dead. Instead he handed me some tools and said 'Show me'?" Tryne laughed warmly with a genuine smile for the first time that night, "I spent the whole day there with him watching. Took everything I had apart and put it back together. Then he started handing me stuff from his shop, so I took that apart too. Couldn't get it all back together, but he just laughed at me instead of being angry. After that I brought Ozlo the good stuff to trade before the fences. He lets me borrow some things and sleep in the back. Shows me some stuff now and then or just lets me look at what he is working on." Tryne trailed off for a few minutes lost in thought as he considered everything he had learned from the old dwarf. All the tricks he had been taught or the projects they had worked on. The young scrapper remembered the drawings and brainstorming sessions, working late into the night to finish some project to be sold or for his own side items. Tryne thought to himself, 'Guess my dad really is a dwarf.' Ready to Leave: Tryne stood in Ozlo's shop dressed in the armor it had taken him nearly a year to repair and assemble. The old dwarf checked some straps, fussed with some things, kept handing him 'one more thing' for the road. Tryne smiled at his old friend and mentor. They had discussed and planned for a week for Tryne to head off to Oakhurst, selling the refurbished power core Tryne had found to fund the final things he would need and pay for the trip. It was to good an opportunity and Tryne was never going to get anywhere staying in the slums. Ozlo would go with him, but the old dwarf was not as strong as he used to be and really could not make the journey. Finally, the two faced each other, exchanging a firm handshake, with Tryne adding a hug the old dwarf flustered at receiving. Olzo with his typical deep somber voice, "Take care boy. Find your fortune and finish that project of yours." Tryne smiled warmly at the dwarf, "I will. I'll be back someday". The old dwarf laughed sourly, "I wouldn't." but there was a smile on the old dwarf's face none the less. Deity: none - Sovereign Host maybe - Tryne sits in a hole in the wall bar and shrugs non commitment while gazing into his cheap beer, "Look around, I clawed my way just to survive and reach the bottom, what did they ever do for me? The orphanage, they believe, so I guess that kept me alive in the beginning. Mother Hanna did that, not the gods." Until recently, Tryne has lived his whole life in the slums, much of that a constant struggle to just get by every day. He does not feel like he has much to be thankful for and sees no evidence of the gods. Even being alive has not always been a blessing. Tryne does not even care enough to curse the gods for his plight. It just is what it is. Is Might Right? Tryne spins a coin on the bar, watching it for a moment, "No. They constantly beat us down, the law, the gangs, always someone putting their boot on our necks." He takes a drink of his beer, "But the best way to get a boot off is set them on fire..." with a shrug "or blow something up." Tryne watches the coin spin, "Heads you win, tails you lose." He slams his hand down on the coin and looks at the tails side facing up again. "Except down here, you always lose." Tryne has always been at the bottom with others pushing him down and he has fought everyday to survive. He mostly views authority with a negative perspective or distrust as it has always been used against him. However, he does view power as possibly the only way to liberate, protect, or raise up those who have been oppressed or left behind. Loyalties: Tryne gazes at something on the far wall of the bar for a moment, "You stick with your mates, if you have some good ones, but mostly you got to do it yourself. Mostly everyone is looking out for themselves, so when you are bleeding in the dirt, you either fight your way back up or lay there and die." Tryne has very few people in his life which he could count on and some of them have turned out to not be as reliable as he thought. He has survived thus far by his own wits, leveraging his intelligence and knack for fixing things to stay alive and find a way out of the slums. Dream Project: Tryne digs through his satchel and pulls out a worn book stuffed with various additional pages and puts it on the bar. His face lights up with a joy rarely seen on the young scrapper and his voice is quick and excited. "Look at this" he pulls out a rough picture of a mechanical lion "this is it, the thing I've been working on. I've got most of the details worked out, just need more parts. Old Ozlo's got nothing like this and I'm never going to find what I need down here. That power core I salvaged would help, but I got to sell that to clear out of here." Tryne sighed heavily, "I know I can make this happen."

Roles and character stuff Taking set 2.

Victor - “My words,” Victor said. | ‘My thoughts,’ Victor thought. | My actions . . . Strength: 7 (-2) Dexterity: 12 (+1) Constitution: 18 (+4) Intelligence: 8 (-1) Wisdom: 14 (+2) Charisma: 19 (+4) AC: 11 HP: 10/10 PP: 12 Victor cannot believe he is not dead as the wolf lunges at him. Clearly the beast likely has the advantage and his mind races with panic. He seems paralyzed with fear as his mind cringes at the beast mere inches from him. Victor desperately wants to crawl away and hide. The dark depth of Victor's mind, the other part of him which drives his power, rises like a shadow. Normally blocked by Victor, the other pushes Victor aside like a child. The sorcerer straightens as he faces the wolf, staff in hand, he glares directly into the beasts eyes, challenging it. Grabbing tendrils of thought and weaving it with darkness, words of power whisper from the sorcerer and tear into the mind of the wolf. OOC Concentration: None Movement: None Bonus Action: None Action: Casting Dissonant Whispers, Spell DC 14 Reaction: Cast the shield spell if targeted by an attack AND that attack would be stopped by the +5 to AC from the shield spell. Interact-with-Object: Dissonant Whispers Casting Time: 1 action Range: 60 feet Components: V Duration: Instantaneous You whisper a discordant melody that only one creature of your choice within range can hear, wracking it with terrible pain. The target must make a Wisdom saving throw. On a failed save, it takes 3d6 psychic damage and must immediately use its reaction, if available, to move as far as its speed allows away from you. The creature doesn’t move into obviously dangerous ground, such as a fire or a pit. On a successful save, the target takes half as much damage and doesn’t have to move away. A deafened creature automatically succeeds on the save. Spell DC: I included a roll for the Wolf save. If it has a higher than +7 Wisdom modifier, it will make the save for half damage. Otherwise, it takes the full 13 and has to immediately flee from Victor.

I wasn't sure if it was the Player turn again. I was waiting for a wolf to eat Victor ;)

That is definitely very compact. When I did my rolls, I did the attack role first. Then I saw I had a crit, so when I edited it to add the damage role I knew to add just the crit damage instead of the normal. I suppose there could be a problem if the creature can't be crit, but then I guess you just ignore the extra dice.

Looking at the char sheet, Kesh normal attack mod is +4. So looks like he didn't include the Bless d4 just his normal attack mod.

Victor - “My words,” Victor said. | ‘My thoughts,’ Victor thought. | My actions . . . Strength: 7 (-2) Dexterity: 12 (+1) Constitution: 18 (+4) Intelligence: 8 (-1) Wisdom: 14 (+2) Charisma: 19 (+4) AC: 11 HP: 10/10 PP: 12 Victor had been safely hidden by the illusionary tree stump, but seeing the wolf appear nearly on top of him, he forgot the camouflage and slowly backed away toward the fire. As he retreated, Victor whispered vile sounding words as a flame appeared in his outstretched hand. A quick motion and the flame launched at the nearest wolf. OOC Movement: Retreating to K13 Action: casting Firebolt at W2 unless the previous attacks have downed it, then W1 Bonus Action: Reaction: Crying in pain if eaten Interact-with-Object: — Concentration: Woot!! First critical hit of the game :)

Victor - “My words,” Victor said. | ‘My thoughts,’ Victor thought. | My actions . . . Strength: 7 (-2) Dexterity: 12 (+1) Constitution: 18 (+4) Intelligence: 8 (-1) Wisdom: 14 (+2) Charisma: 19 (+4) AC: 11 HP: 10/10 PP: 12 Victor roused at the cry of alarm rolled up to a crouch at his bedroll. He watched as Kesh approach the edge of camp supported by Trisae's burst of light. Feeling confident that nothing is easily getting through the massive dragonborn, Victor scans the opposite side of the camp looking for signs of a rear or flanking attack. [ooc: ignore this next part if we don't get an action here] The Other, that spark of his power deep within his mind awakens drawing power from within Victor's mind. A few quick gestures and the light around Victor starts to bend, shadows begin to reshape forming the image of a large tree stump covering the kneeling human. OOC Movement: — Action: Minor Illusion - tree stump on top of where Victor now crouches. Bonus Action: — Reaction: — Interact-with-Object: —

Victor - “My words,” Victor said. | ‘My thoughts,’ Victor thought. | My actions . . . Except for the early return of his headache, Victor found he had actually enjoyed the long walk with his new associates. As he chatted with others, he did not reveal much, although he does mention that his mother was a kitchen servant and that he essentially grew up in a kitchen. As first watch is established, "I will take second watch then and wake Trisae for hers." He felt a little guilty at having to disturb the dark elf, but was glad to see everyone was being careful. He smiled to himself at the small tent she called a hat. Unrolling his bedroll a bit farther from the fire, Victor sits quietly meditating for a few moments as the two interesting guards start first watch. His eyes closed, he has a small bag of objects which he pulls out touching one or the other. Breathing deeply and focusing on the familiar items, he stills his mind. Quietly going through the steps he has learned to quiet his thoughts. The last thing he wanted was to wake in one of Kesh's gladiatorial memories. The meditation and ritual did not completely banish the nightmares which had plagued his youth, but it helped. Victor rolls up into his bedroll and drifts off quickly.

Victor - “My words,” Victor said. | ‘My thoughts,’ Victor thought. | My actions . . . As they make camp, Victor seems to have recovered from his earlier struggles. He had been travelling for the past couple of years, so the methodic steady beat of one step after another was at least a comfort in its routine. Victor referenced his new compass a few times just to make sure they were headed in the general direction. it was definitely easier to follow a merchant caravan on an established route than their current endeavor. At the camp, Victor assists in gathering wood for a fire and spends time sitting next to it. He does not set up a tent, in fact he is not carrying one, but instead finds a spot not far from the fire to setup his bed roll. As evening arrives, Victor sits quietly and meditates for a while, centering and clearing his thoughts. It had been a long day, but this was only the beginning. What might he learn on this journey? Was it something he really wanted to know? OOC Victor will take a turn at watch in whatever slot. Maybe first or last if given a preference.

Victor - “My words,” Victor said. | ‘My thoughts,’ Victor thought. | My actions . . . With every step away from the tree it started building. Like the cool wind or dim light which warned of the coming thunderstorm. Even with the warning, Victor was unprepared when the storm hit. Stopping almost in mid step the young man leaned heavily on his staff as pain flashed through his skull like a lightning strike. His stomach churned as the entire world turned sideways and then righted itself. Catching a ragged breath Victor began to push back against the pain in his skull, thankful he had not over indulged at a breakfast and knowing he would be emptying it back onto the road if he had. A slow breath as he pushed back against the other, another he layered in those mental barriers which offered him some little comfort. Victor silently chided himself for not being prepared, lulled into a foolish lapse by the moments of peace offered by the tree's presence. That other part of his mind which sparked his power had awoken and reminded him that it was always there. 'Welcome back old friend' and somewhere in his mind Victor thought he heard laughter in response. OOC If the perception roll is for at camp, Victor will be recovered. If it is anywhere around the start of the walk, he is too busy putting his mind back together to notice anything at all.