Drezdocks Rogues Gallery - Myth-Weavers

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Drezdocks Rogues Gallery

Drezdocks Rogues Gallery

For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to gather all of my applications and whatnot into one thread for people to peruse if they would so choose.

Feel free to take a look and check things out. Asks questions, make observations. Yada yada.

Maybe you think some of these guys would be a perfect fit for a game your running, or you would like to use a ready made NPC?

♫I'm not trying to be a hero...♫ l ♫ Im just a man trying to put his past behind him...♫

"I spent five years rotting in a dungeon because of Gaedren Lamm... When I find him, he is going to face the same. ...Or worse..."

Age: 18
Gender: Male
Height: 6'
Weight: 150 lbs
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Brown
Race: Human
Class: Swashbuckler 1
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Deity: Shelyn
Caspian Human Swahbuckler 1 CG HP 11 / 11 Speed 30 ft Init 4 AC 18 Fort 1 Ref 6 Will 1 CMB +1 BAB 1 Glaive-guisarme +6 (d10, x3) Str 11 (0) Dex 18 (4) Con 12 (1) Wis 12 (1) Int 10 (0) Cha 16 (3)

An ex-con who seeks to make amends for his past. He has one more wrong to set right, and then hopefully he will be able to move on.


Tall and lean built with dark hair and warm eyes. He has a lithe and muscular frame and moves with an almost cat like grace. His eyes tend to be ever on the move trying to take in everyone and everything around him. On the inside of his left forearm he hides a brand from the prison he served 5 years in. He wears a smile on his face for his new found freedom, but that smile can turn into a hard predators grin in an instant.

Caspian is trying to make right the wrongs he has done in his life. He cant actually repay those that he hurt, but he can try to help others and keep future wrongdoers from hurting the innocent as well. He is genuinely happy to be out of jail and tries to live each moment to its fullest as something he has never experienced before, whether that is a simple meal, the scent of a flower, or the thrill of combat.

Caspian grew up in the slums of Korvosa. He never knew who his parents were and soon fell in with the other orphans of the city depending on petty theft too survive. Before too long he was scouted by Gaedren Lamm to work as one of his Lambs. Caspian was a good earner, picking pockets and locks with the same ease; and if a few days went by where the take was a little light? ...Well sometimes you had to take a beating or two to make ends meet. That was the way of the world, and it's not like Caspian had many options to keep food in his belly.
As caspian grew older, and started to be less of a child, Lamm started giving him more work. Rough someone up over here, break a leg over there, force your way into a house and trash the place o send a message. Caspian did all this with aplomb, with his ever trusty Glaive by his side.... It was during one of these jobs that Caspians luck seemed to run out. Gaedren went with Caspian and a few of his lambs to an Artists home by the name of Sendre. Gaedren claimed that Sendre owed him protection money, and they were going to collect. Caspian would take half the Lambs and trash and loot the upper floors, while Gaedren and the rest worked over Sendre for the money.
Everything was going as planned until Caspian heard a woman screaming from the master bedroom and a man begging Gaedren to stop. Caspian rushed into the room to find Gaedren standing over the body of a woman... Sendre's wife. Gaedren had stabbed her several times to prove a point to the artist about why he needed to pay protection money. Caspian couldn't abide this. Theft and robbery were one thing. Even roughing someone up a bit was acceptable... But Gaedren had just killed a woman in cold blood.
Caspian charged in to accost Gaedren and thats when the betrayal happened. Gaedren and several of the lambs dog piled him and knocked him unconscious. Then they went about setting Sendres house on fire before leaving. Caspian barely managed to drag both himself and Sendre out to street before losing consciousness from his injuries and smoke inhalation.
The trial was quick. Caspian was sentenced to 5 years in prison as an accomplice to murder.
Strangely enough, the only visitor he ever received was Sendre himself. The old man remembered Caspian trying to stop Gaedren from murdering his wife and even Caspian pulling them both from the fire. In fact it had been Sendres own testimony that saved Caspian from the headsmans axe.
In addition to being an artist, Sendre was a faithful of Shelyn. The goddess of love and Beauty. The old man bore no ill will towards Caspian, but wanted to try and show him a better path.
Over the next 5 years Sendre visited Caspian nearly every day. The two formed a close relationship with Sendre becoming the father figure Caspian never had, and Caspian being the son Sendre never had. Caspian studied the religious texts and art pieces Sendre provided with fervor. He had never thought that there could be such beauty in the world if only one would look past the dirt and grime.
Then, suddenly, Sendre stopped coming. A few days later and Arbiter came to secure Caspians release. Sendre had passed away in his sleep. Apparently dying of old age. The old artist had left everything he owned to Caspian, and made an impassioned plea to the magistrate as his last wish that Caspian be freed...
The Magistrate listened. Caspian was released. He used the wealth that Sendre had left to him to purchase the equipment he would need for the tasks ahead of him. Gaedren Lamm needed to be punished. He had been a blight on Korvosa for too long and too many had suffered. In order for beauty to once more return to this city, Gaedren Lamm would have to be removed from it. One way... or the other.

RP Samples

Age: 5+
Gender: Female
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 125 lbs
Hair Color: Red
Eye Color: Green
Race: Android
Class: Gunslinger (gun scavenger) 1
Alignment: CG
Deity: Cayden Cailean
K-8 (Kate)
Android Gunslinger (Gun Scavenger) 1 CG
HP 11 / 11 Speed 30 ft Init 4
AC 16 Fort 3 Ref 6 Will 3
CMB +1 BAB +1
Musket (1d12, x4)
Unarmed 1d6 (, )
Str 11 (0) Dex 18 (4) Con 12 (1) Wis 16 (3) Int 12 (1) Cha 10 (0)

Kate fights hard and plays harder. As an adoptive daughter of Khonnir Baine. she has lived in torch for the past five years. Whether its having a few rounds at The foundry Tavern, getting in bar-fights at the copper coin, haggling with Garritt Burrwaddle at the junkyard, or enjoying pleasurable company at The Marrymaid; Kate lives life to the fullest and has become a well known figure around town.


K-8 has the appearance of an attractive redheaded woman of average height and build. Her eyes are a brilliant shade of green and her pale skin has a light dusting of freckles across it. Her circuitry tattoos can be seen just under the skin if one looks close enough. One of the most prominent features she has are the large tattoos on each of her upper arms. A bold letter "K" on her right arm and the number "8" on her left. It is from these marking that K-8 derived her name. She speaks with a brogue accent that no-one can figure out where it came from.

Rough and tumble. Never one to turn down a drink or back away from a fight. Kate lives as a sort of extremist. This is in part because she has trouble understanding the subtler nuances of humanoid emotion. But as Cayden Cailean says the truth can be found at the bottom of a cup. The emotions and idiosyncrasies of the intoxicated are much easier to read and emulate, plus its a hell of a lot of fun. Thus, she spends most of her free time at local taverns enjoying drinks, paying cards, or partaking in the pleasurable things in life. She loves her adoptive father Khonnir Baine with all of her synthetic heart. He taught her to speak common, how to understand the principals of engineering, and even gave her the parts she needed to put together her first musket. Kate and Val have a friendly rivalry with each other, but do regard each other as sisters. Something about the workings of firearms and black powder calls to her and she spends many an hour trying out different components and aspects to test how her beloved musket operates.

According to the regulars at The Foundry Tavern, K-8 burst through the doors of the bar one rainy night a little over 5 years ago. She was naked as a babe and covered in mud. She spoke frantically in a
language none of the patrons could understand and was waving a small leather wrapped bundle containing several
Selling them over time gave her the extra money from the child of fortune trait.
engraved metal slips that seemed to be made out of gold and platinum
When she seemed to be unable to get anyone to understand her, she collapsed to the ground and the tattoos on her body starting glowing through the mud. It was at this point that several of the patrons ran to get Khonnir Baine from his home. He immediately recognized K-8 as an android and had her transported to his home so that he could care for her until she recuperated. K-8 lay in a near deathlike comatose state for over a week before she finally woke up. However when she did, she had no memories of the incident that had led her to be in Khonnir Baine's home or what the strange metal slips were. In fact she had no memories at all. She did not even know her own name. Khonnir Baine decided to call her K-8 based on the tattoos on her arms and that eventually evolved into her being called Kate.
Not wanting to send the newly reborn android out into the world, he adopted her as a second daughter and raised K-8 alongside is other daughter Val.

RP Samples

Lady Merisiel Tessara the VIII
♫The Living have a purpose...♫ l ♫ As do the dead...♫

"The dead are a resource, like coal or iron. But instead of expoiting this commodity we allow it to lay fallow in the ground. Why should farmers break their backs when the bones of a murderer can plow their fields for them? Why should our children and parents die in battle when the bodies of our enemies can go to war in their stead?"

Age: 18
Gender: Female
Height: 5' 6"
Weight: 125 lbs
Hair Color: White
Eye Color: Black
Race: Dhampir
Class: Cleric (Undead Lord) 1
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Deity: Urgathoa
Lady Merisiel Tessara the VIII Dhampir Cleric (Undead Lord) 1 LE HP 8 / 8 Speed ft Init 2 AC 12 Fort 2 Ref 2 Will 5 CMB +0 BAB Str 10 (0) Dex 15 (2) Con 10 (0) Wis 16 (3) Int 12 (1) Cha 15 (2)

Outcast daughter of a noble family. Trained as a courtesan. Lust turned to hedonism. Now seeks to take back what she sees at rightfully hers, or show the fools who banished her the error of their ways by building something far greater than they ever could.


Hair the color of Ivory and skin like fresh cream. Merisiel cultivates an air of mystery and sensuality. Almost every inch of her lithe body is covered in intricate spiraling tattoos that come to a focus on her forehead. She sports numerous piercings all over her face, mouth and body and her manner of typical dress seems to hint at more tattoos and piercings not meant for the common eye. She tends to carry herself in a manner that seems to be an invitation to look at her. However, her blood red lips and pupiless black eyes could be seen as a warning for those who would look to close... or an invitation to those who aren't afraid of what they might see.

The spider lures the fly into its web by leaving droplets of sweet nectar upon the strands. The fly comes for an easy meal, but doesnt realize it is the main course until it is already too late...
Honeyed words, pouting lips, and shy glances are the tools of the courtesans trade and Merisiel has learned these tools to the point that they could be considered weapons. She may give others what they desire, but they almost always end up giving more in return. She has a bottomless hunger for sensation, and burning drive to turn others to her worldview; one whispered word and midnight sigh at a time.

The Tessara's are a proud and strong noble family, who can trace their lineage back hundreds of years. Merisiel is the 7th to bear the name of the noble woman who founded their house in the dim mists of memory and is the only daughter of the current generation. However, her birth is something of a blight to the great houses name. Her nature was almost immediatly apparent upon her birth. Her skin was cool to the touch and lacked color. Her eyes were black pupil-less pits, and she didn't cry. Not even once. The midwives and seers recognized her for what she was, a dhampir. This would indicate her mother had a tryst with one of the undead lords of another noble house. Her mother vehemently denied such actions, even while the proof of her apparent infidelity cooed in her arms and nursed upon her breast. Her father would have had the infant killed that night but for the protests of her mother. Eventually he relented, and allowed the child to live; But he never took to it.
Merisiel was raised in relative seclusion on the families estate. Her father didn't want the families private shame to become public. As she got older however, her naure would become more apparent. Servants would find her talking with the rats in the larder, or telling stories to the batts in the attics of the estate. One night they even found her crying at night while a wolf howled in the distance. They thought the child was scared, but she simply said it was because the wolves story was so sad.
During the winter of her 10th year, Merisiels mother died from an unknown illness and her body was unceremoniously laid to rest in the family crypt. during this time her father became even colder and more distant. It was nearly two years later that Merisiels own actions begat her exile. She had been talking to the servants about bringing her mother back. She said the rats had told her how to do it, and the bats had even confirmed it. She knew the words and the symbols that could raise her mothers body from the dead so that they could be a family again. She even showed her father the animals she had practiced on to prove she could do it...
Her father banished her immediately. He sent her to a pleasure house that was owned and operated by the family to be trained as a courtesan. Obviously no man in his right mind would take his deceased wifes strange daughter as a wife, but if she were lucky, perhaps she could make a life for herself as a mistress. Thus began her training in the ways of pleasures of the flesh.
Several years later, Merisiel as she was called (for her father had forbidden she use the family name) had become one of the most popular girls at the pleasure house. She performed her services with an enthusiasm they hadn't seen in decades and seemed to enjoy her work almost as much as her clients. However, a deep hunger was welling up within her; something that mere carnal delights only seemed fan the flames of.
In an effort to find out why she felt the way she did, and understand what was happening to her, Merisel offered her services at the next festival the pleasure house it hosted. She would begin a feast of all flesh as she called it... After nearly 36 continuous hours of non-stop "festivities" Merisiel was still unsatisfied. Though her body ached and her muscled screamed she refused to stop. It was then that she felt herself rising above her body and saw herself at the center of a huge room of celebrants.
To her left, she saw a pale woman dressed in dark robes that were tattered at the bottom. The woman bore a scythe and watched Merisiel intently. She knew this woman was a God almost immediately, and her name filled Merisiels mind. Urgathoa... the palid princess... the mistress of all hungers. The goddess of the undead... With this realization, Merisiel understood who and what she was.
On hands and knees she crawled to the pallid princess, and placed her lips in supplication upon the goddesses bloody and skeletal feet. Urgathoa gazed upon her and lowered the blade of her scythe to Merisiels face. Merisiel extended her tongue and licked the edge of the scythe from one end to the other splitting her tongue in twain. Urgathoa smiled.
With a sudden gasping cry Merisiel was flung back into her body. Indescribable pleasure, the likes of which she had never felt before filled every fiber of her being to the point of near bursting. She let out a scream of joy from the core of her being as tears of happiness streamed down her face. The feast of all flesh was over. Merisiel had been reborn...

RP Samples

Marius Boudreaux
♫Care for a game?♫ l ♫ 'Ello mon cherie...♫

"I'm sorry mon ami. It looks like lady luck smiles upon me once again."

Age: 27
Gender: Male
Height: 6' 2"
Weight: 179 lbs
Hair Color: Auburn
Eye Color: Red
Race: Vishkanya
Class: Magus 14
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Deity: Calistria
Marius Boudreaux
Vishkanya Magus 14 CN
HP 102 / 102 Speed 30+ ft Init 4
AC 23 Fort 15 Ref 11 Will 16
CMB +12/+7 BAB +10/+5
Card (1d4, x2)
Quarterstaff (1d6 / 1d6, x2)
(, )
Str 10 (2) Dex 18 (4) Con 12 (3) Wis 14 (4) Int 18 (4) Cha 12 (3)

Marius is a simple wandering gypsy who makes his living as a gambler and lives out of his formerly horse drawn, now magically animated wagon. He enjoys food, drink, cards, and pleasurable company. He veneers the goddess Calistria as Lady Luck.


AS MARIUS: Marius dresses in simple, brightly colored, and comfortable clothes. He has a Varisian accent and natural tanned skin. Perhaps his post striking feature are his red eyes, the only true indicator of his Vishkanya heritage. He is tall and leanly built, often with a smile on his face.

AS MARIUS: Marius is fun lovng and carefree. He has all that he needs in the world. His little wagon is his home. He goes where he wants when he wants. He makes his living as a professional gambler / swindler and more often than not spends his winnings on food, drink and pleasurable company. He has a cavalier and devil may care attitude believing that each person needs to live their own life and make their own luck.

Marius was born and raised to a group of traveling Varisian gypsies. Hey spent his early years in relative happiness with his immediate and extended family roaming from place to place, participating in various scams and cons, and learning the stories of his people. He saw much of the inner sea region during his travels from the strange metal ruins of Numeria to the Mist covered forests of Ustalav, To the ancient wonders of the grand city of Magnimar.
As he got older, and grew into manhood, Marius decided to travel separately from his family. He desired to live life by his own with and by his own rules. He had always been lucky, even as a youth, so he decided to apply that luck to his skill set and make his living as a professional gambler and card shark. He made his way from town to town and tavern to tavern. Winning here, and losing there; but always with a smile on his face and just happy to be playing. He won an old spell ook in game of dice off of a travelling merchant from Absalom. Marius had considered selling it for a time, but decided to teach himself the magics within it instead and soon found himself to be a highly capable Magus.
It was while journeying through Cheliax, the land of Devils, That Marius encountered the deck of cards that would become his new obsession and change his life forever. It was getting dark earlier than usual, and Marius had gotten lost on the back roads east of the Barrowood. Not wishing to wander those darkened lands at night, he parked his wagon near a small crossroads and made camp for the night. It was around midnight, as Marius was preparing to extinguish his flames and sleep for the evening, that he became aware of a strange gentleman casually approaching his wagon and whistling a tuneless melody.
The man appeared to be a Tiefling, and said he meant Marius no harm. He had simply hoped to Join him by the fire. Being a kind individual, and not one to turn a way a stranger simply due to there appearance, Marius happily invited the stranger to join him by the fire and join him for a meal, some wine and some cards. The two drank, talk and laughed until the sun was nearly up. It was then that the Tiefling introduced himself formerly. His Name was Moloch, Servitor of the Archdevil Asmodeus. He had intended to simply take marius as a slave and sacrifice for his master, but the Varisian Gypsy had made a good impression on him with his hospitality and humor.
As such, Moloch proposed a game. A single hand of cards to decide Marius's fate. If Marius won, the cards he drew would grant him power unbeknownst to most mortals. If he lost, he would accompany Moloch back to Egorian of his own free will, where he would be sold into slavery. If he refused, Moloch would kill him now. Marius couldn't refuse.
The game was simple, Moloch explained as he drew a slender deck of cards from somewhere on his person. We take turns drawing 5 cards from this deck of many things. High card wins and gets the benefits bestowed by the card. Winner of the most draws id overall winner of the game. The rules explained, They began to draw.
Moloch drew first, the two of spades. He smiled a shark toothed grin. Marius drew and revealed the jack of diamonds. He won. He could immediately feel knowledge flowing into his mind as his intelligence increased.
Moloch drew again. A two of clubs he sneered. Marius drew. The 2 of diamonds. A tie. Both get the effects of their cards. Marius felt nothing significant happen, but black smoke seemed to be seeping out of Molochs ears and a dull expression came across his face and eyes.
Draw 3. Moloch has Marius Draw first. Marius draws the Ace of hearts. Moloch is fuming at this point. Hatred blazing in his eyes. This was not how this was supposed to go. Moloch draws... 2 of hearts. He loses again. Marius sets this card to the side. Suddenly he feels a rush of strength and power filling him. He sees the 2 of diamonds glowing and fading away. It must have been something to do with that card. Whatever it did.
4th draw. If looks could kill, Marius and all his ancestors would be dead. Marius draws a king of hearts and suddenly a small castle grows around the pair at the crossroads. Moloch draws a queen of hearts and swears in a language that seems to scorch the air and curl the small hairs in Marius's ears.
The fifth and final card is drawn. Marius draws a Queen of diamonds, granting him a single wish. Moloch draws a Jack of hearts and loses.
One more game! Moloch proposes. One card. High card wins. Winner take all. Double or nothing? Marius thinks for a moment. He had come out of this relatively unscathed, if not smelling like roses. Should he push his luck? He pulled out a smaller copper coin, flipped it and looked at the results. One more game it is.
Marius slowly draws a card from the deck. Jack of clubs, with a picture of a wraith on it that seemed to be trying to escape. With a sneer Moloch drew a single card. The king of clubs. "I win..." the demonic for spat. Then it's eyes went wide as it realized what card it had drawn. The creature slowly started deflating and collapsing into itself. its voice seeming to echo from another world. "But, I won... I won..." Until it was gone.
"Shouldn't have pressed your luck mon ami"... Marius sighed with a sad shake of his head.
Now for the first order of business. What to do about this castle? He really didn't want it, but he just didn't want to leave it for some local lord to take over. It was HIS after all. He looked at the two cards that he had kept. One seemed to grant him a wish. and the other seemed to be able to undo things. Curious he took the undoing card and touched it to the castle wall, the entire castle exploded into dust and turned into a king of hearts playing card. Now he had a king of hearts and a queen of diamonds.
Maybe he could combine that magic somehow? "Um. A mans home is his castle. So, this wagon and horse are my home. I wish that the magic of this castle card would not create a castle, but to make my home better and more castle like?"
The energies of both cards surged out and engulfed his horse and carriage merging and transforming them.

RP Samples

Name: Brother Lucius Espanoza
Concept: Former crusader, turned monk
Age: 30
Nature: Philosopher
Demeanor: Caregiver
Possible clans: Lasombra please

[Background information can be discussed with storyteller to be modified and made more appropriate for the chronicle.]

Marius Boudreaux AKA Harrow
♫Care for a game?♫ l ♫ 'Ello mon cherie...♫

"I'm sorry mon ami. It looks like lady luck smiles upon me once again."

"The cards have been cast. Your name has been called for vengeance..."

Age: 27
Gender: Male
Height: 6' 2"
Weight: 179 lbs
Hair Color: Auburn / White
Eye Color: Red / Glowing red
Race: Vishkanya
Class: Magus 3 / Slayer 3
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral / Chaotic Good
Deity: Calistria
Marius Boudreaux AKA Harrow
Vishkanya Magus 3 / Slayer 3 CN / CG
HP 30 / 30 Speed ft Init 4
AC 17 Fort 3 Ref 7 Will 3
CMB +3 BAB 3
Card (1d4, x2)
Quarterstaff (1d6 / 1d6, x2)
Sneak attack (+1D6, )
Str 10 (0) Dex 18 (4) Con 10 (0) Wis 11 (0) Int 16 (3) Cha 14 (2)

Marius is a simple wandering gypsy who makes his living as a gambler and lives out of his simple horse drawn wagon. He enjoys food, drink, cards, and pleasurable company. He veneers the goddess Calistria as Lady Luck.

Harrow is the dark Harbringer of vengeance. When people have been wronged he will descend like a black angel to enact righteous retribution for the transgressors deeds.


AS MARIUS: Marius dresses in simple, brightly colored, and comfortable clothes. He has a Varisian accent and natural tanned skin. Perhaps his post striking feature are his red eyes, the only true indicator of his Vishkanya heritage. He is tall and leanly built, often with a smile on his face.

AS HARROW: Harrows skin is black and his white hair moves about as if blowing in a wind others cannot feel. He dresses in conservative dark clothing that helps him blend into the shadows he strikes from. His eyes are glowing red pinpricks of anger and his voice has a hollow and almost otherworldly echo to it. He is stern in his demeanor and dire in his speech.

AS MARIUS: Marius is fun lovng and carefree. He has all that he needs in the world. His little horse drawn cart is his home. He goes where he wants when he wants. He makes his living as a professional gambler / swindler and more often than not spends his winnings on food, drink and pleasurable company. He has a cavalier and devil may care attitude believing that each person needs to live their own life and make their own luck.

AS HARROW:Harrow is stern and often unforgiving. He serves to answer the prayers for vengeance sent to Calistria by those who have been wronged. Whether that punishment comes in the form of a robbery, a beating, or an even bloodier end. Harrow deals the cards that determine his quarries fate. He strikes quickly from the shadows, does his deeds, then returns to the darkness until he is needed again.

Marius was born and raised to a group of traveling Varisian gypsies. Hey spent his early years in relative happiness with his immediate and extended family roaming from place to place, participating in various scams and cons, and learning the stories of his people. He say much of the inner sea region during his travels from the strange metal ruins of Numeria to the Mist covered forests of Ustalav, To the ancient wonders of the grand city of Magnimar.
However his happy childhood came to and end when the caravan stayed too long in the nation of Cheliax. A minor noble took a liking to one of his cousins and wished to purchase the young girl for one of his concubines. The caravan elder politely refused the noble, and explained that his people were not for sale. Outraged the noble ordered the elder struck down by his personal guard and for the girl to be taken by force. Members of the caravan, including Marius's own parents, tried to stop this and the noble had them all executed and caravan put to the torch.
A few members of the caravan managed to escape the guards with their lives. They attempted to seek justice in the Cheliaxian courts, but the noble had friends in high places and as the gypsies were not citizens they were technically not protected under Cheliaxian laws. Heartbroken and crestfallen, the rest of the caravan ended up going there separate ways. A young Marius eventually found his way to a temple of Calistria where he was taken in.
It was there that his transformation truly began. While the gypsies had treated the art of trickery and enjoyment as an art form to be studied, the priests of Calistria took it to a religious level. He learned the arts of pleasuring the flesh from sacred prostitutes, how to earn peoples trust from spies who had forgotten their own names, a thousand cons from swindlers all across the inner sea, and the nature of vengeance from the dark clothed visitors who only arrived at night and left by the morning.
Rather than try to sway him from the dark desire for revenge that burned in his heart; the priests of Calistria nurtured that fire within him and gave him the tools he needed to work the her will in this realm. He learned to listen for the tell tale signs of those who had been wronged. The tear streaked makeup, the nervous inn keeper, the farmer whose crops wont even feed his family... He combined these teachings of the church with his own Varisian heritage to learn how to read the Harrow to interpret the goddesses wishes and call upon the shades of his ancestors to protect his form and identity. Years of intense study of blade and book, seduction and deception, and stealth and misdirection finally came to a close. Marius would assume an alternate identity inspired by the deck of harrow cards that had once belonged to his grandmother.
He traveled to Cheliax, and over the course of several years killed the noble, the guards, and each member of the court that had been responsible for his families death.
His personal vengeance fulfilled, he turned to the cards to find out what to do next.
All signs pointed to the grand city of Absalom. The city at the center of the world...
A humble gambler started slowly but steadily making his way there.
His simple horse drawn carriage above suspicion.
A happy whistle upon his lips.
Dark thoughts in his head.

RP Samples

♫The voices♫ l ♫ They call to me♫

"Thou knowest not what waits for thee... lurking in the space between spaces. Thy mind would'st surely shrivel at the sight of they who tread the dark gulf between the stars in a single step..."

Age: 26
Gender: Male
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 145 lbs
Hair Color: Blonde
Eye Color: Grey
Race: Human
Class: Arcanist 1
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Deity: The Great Old Ones
Human Arcanist 1 CN
HP 7 / 7 Speed ft Init 2
AC 13 Fort 1 Ref 2 Will 2
CMB +1 BAB +0
Sickle (1d6, x2)
Str 12 (1) Dex 14 (2) Con 12 (1) Wis 11 (0) Int 16 (3) Cha 16 (3)

Elim is a potent caster whose natural abilities lend themselves towards evocation. He voraciously studies any texts he can lay his hands upon, especially if those texts are related to the dream lands, the dark tapestry, or those beings that call those places home.


Tall, well built and attractive for a human. He keeps his long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail and generally favors loose fitting black clothes. However, the facade of normalcy fades upon close examination. A hint of madness hides behind his eyes and his shadow often moves of its own accord or sprouts tenebrous growths that seem to attempt to grasp at the world around it, almost as it was trying to reach our world from another one.

There are some things man was not meant to know. Perhaps then it is a blessing that Elim has amnesia, for even without his full memories of what his life was like before, Elim is quite obviously mad. He pursues topics of forbidden lore with reckless abandon and dives into the mysteries of the dark tapestry with no cares to the potential risks or dangers. If not for the potent magics that he seems to be able to wield as a result, or the knowledge that he seems to retain; one might thing that Elim belongs in Briarstone Asylum.

Mother... father. Fishing. Boats. The lake. The dark Island... Stay away. Dangerous. Never go near. Fishing. Alone. Storm from nowhere. Sinking. Swimming. Land. Forbidden. Cave. Dark. Falling... falling... falling so far. Eyes staring. Teeth gnashing. Fear... Pain. No blood. Why no blood? Torn apart, pieced together. again and again. ...and again... and again... Stars cold. Watching. Eyes in the sky, So many eyes. The eyes are mouths too. Screaming. Darkness.
Sitting at home with ones called mother and father. They found me on the beach of the forbidden island. Cluthching the book. Don't know them. They say they are my parents, but I know them not. Worried whispers. Hair and eyes washed of color they say. Wont let go of book. Cant let go of book. Voices. Screaming. So much screaming. Then the blood. There it is.
When are we? Is this now? Is this happening before or or has it happened in the future? Magistrate passes ruling. The peasants spit as he is marched into the carriage. Bound with thumbscrews, hard to breathe trough gag. His skin bruised and split from where the rocks hit him. Why do I feel this pain? Is this me?

RP Samples



Age: 18
Gender: Male
Height: 7'1"
Weight: 328 lbs
Hair Color: Blackish green
Eye Color: reddish black
Race: Orc
Class: Brawler (Mutagenic Mauler) 5 / Barbarian (Invulnerable Rager) 2
Alignment: Neutral
Deity: Gorum
Orc Brawler 5 / Barbarian 2 N
HP 95 / 95 Speed 40 ft Init 1
AC 19 Fort 10 Ref 5 Will 2
CMB +13/+8 BAB +7 / +2
Unarmed Strike (1d8, )
Bite (1d4, )
Str 22 (6) Dex 13 (1) Con 16 (3) Wis 13 (1) Int 5 (-3) Cha 8 (-1)

Gundar is almost more animal than he is a sentient thinking creature. He eschews weapons, focusing instead on bringing down opponents with the strength of his own hands. When not in combat, he can come across as rather slow and docile; however, when battle calls he turns into a fercious beast that quickly destroys anything that stands in his way.


Gundar is every bit the image of the stereotyped Orc Berserker. His huge Grey-Green form towers over most other creatures and every inch of his heavily muscled body is covered with scars. He walks in a slightly hunched manner, sometimes even moving on all four limbs like a great ape. His unkempt greenish black hair hangs in greasy strands over his reddish-black eyes. Gundars mouth is filled with sharp teeth that give his an even more fearsome appearance than standard orcs. He has several lengths of thick heavy chains wrapped around his torso, arms and legs. It appears that these chains may have once been used at an attempt to restrain him, but now serve as his armor.

If not for coming from a sentient species, Gundar could be a wild animal. However it is that spark of intelligence that makes him even more dangerous. He is determined to prove himself the strongest. Stronger than all others, and hopefully eventually stronger than his god Gorum, the god of strength. His main concerns are eating and proving his might. He has recently taken to styling himself a sort of merchant (tho he is not very good at it). His simple business model is to use a cart he found and collect various items he takes from opponents he beats. He pushes this cart himself, having no need for puny horses, and then then trades these items (usually for grossly under their value) for simple things like food and drink. Currently his cart is loaded with animals and camping supplies. If he cant trade the animals, at least he can eat them. A win-win in Gundars simple mind. He is loyal to his friends, but can go from lovable Oaf, to dangerous beast at a moments notice given provocation.

Gundar was found by a roving band of Skinwalker slavers as an infant. The slavers came across a battlefield where at least 3 dozen orcs from several different tribes had all been slaughtered. There were no survivors. None except Gundar. A shrine to Gorum made out of the weapons and armor of the fallen warriors had been placed in the center of the battlefield. Laying on top of this alter and bound in chains was a tiny orc child.
The slavers, deciding not to look a gift slave in the mouth took the young Gundar to train and eventually sell.
Even as an infant Gundar was already heavily muscled. Whats more someone (or something) had carved intricate magical scars across the baby orcs flesh to increase his already impressive strength and grant him other abilities. Taking advantage of this fact the slavers planned to make Gundar a war slave and sell him for a significant amount of coin to the highest bidder. At first they used him as a beast of burden. He would pull wagons where teams of horse couldn't go, or carry impossible loads from one point to the next.
Soon, they were tossing him into pits with starving dogs to see who would win. Gundar won... He always won. News of the invincible war slave spread which drove up the asking price. As word spread more and more people began coming to the exhibitions of Gundars might and the slavers wound up making far more coin using him as an attraction they ever would by selling him.
However Gundars strength continued to grow. The Skinwalkers were having a difficult time keeping him under control. They were forced to keep him chained at all times lest he escape. But his strength was too much for simple chains. A tiger-kin skinwalker, the shaman of the slavers, commissioned a special set of enchanted adamantine chains that would keep Gundar contained. Even with his strength there would be no way he could break these.
Then one night, Gundar had a dream. A towering humanoid suit of armor came down from the heavens. The armor ripped a mountain up by its roots and tossed it aside. The sky split and thunder screamed the gods name to Gundars ears. "GORUM". With a start, Gundar awoke to a raging storm. He knew he had to escape. He had to get stronger, as strong as Gorum... stronger than Gorum.
Gundar focused all his might and with a mighty roar, ripped the magical chains free of the moorings that held them. Now free and under the cover of the storm, Gundar brutally slaughtered many of those who had enslaved him before making his way into the wilds.

RP Samples

Name: Lallorona

Race: Qhonian

Character Class: Witch (Putrefactor)

Crime: Kidnapping

Character Sheet: https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1853293

Description/Personality: A beautiful and alluringly exotic member of her race with pale translucent blue skin and vibrant orange eyes.. Most people don't look past her lithe form and physical beauty long enough to see the hungry and almost desperate hint of madness hiding in her eyes. She tends to wear nothing but her own ankle length green hair and the natural skirt of her species. However, sometimes the strange creatures that inhabit her body can be soon moving just underneath her skin.
Lallorona comes of as charming, compassionate and empathetic... at first. These thin veneers are all that is left of the originally once loving girl who wanted nothing more than to be a mother and raise a family of her own. Time and tribulations have twisted that once noble desire into something darker and more destructive. Naive as she was, she trusted the green whispers without hesitation. She will trust anyone who promises to help get her what she desires most. That willingness to hold onto her goals even in the face of death, even when she had believed all was lost, and bravely face the unknown have made her a mother... of sorts. She is eternally hopeful that one day she can have a family of her own, but With the swarms of vermin growing to fill her more day by day, she is accepting her role as the mother of abominations. The rules of society don't matter anymore. All that matters is filling that empty gnawing void in the pit of her stomach that seems to be growing larger with each passing moment. She either needs to feel a new life grow inside of her, or feed the ones that are already there until they are both satisfied... and she might just have to feed them a whole kingdom for that to happen.


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