Willing to take two more to make a maximum of eight characters.
Note: Playtest 4 is out and all characters will start using those rules now.
WIP denotes missing sections or listed as such. Others have all sections though feel free to continue to edit or add to them. I'll review them fully each time I choose players/characters
Please let me know if you have added a character and don't see it added to this list within a few days.
Note: This game is taking rolling acceptance. We plan to accept no more than four players by the end of the first week (21st October) and then up to four more before the ad closes. We've decided to accept up to eight players for this game as that should provide more interaction whilst still being manageable.
Game Description:
The small village of Heawold is neither big nor special in any particular way. Whilst not prosperous the halflings who call it home are a generally very content lot. They live their lives busy producing fine wine and food that they enjoy as often as possible and occasionally trade to the dwarves of Nuledzar and the Goblins of Gorbul Town.
The dale they live in is quite safely tucked in between the Mountains to the North and West where little bar dwarves and the occasional grumpy giant live, the crowded trees of Ewnham forest to the East - the domain of Goblins but the have been peaceful for many years, and the cold broken tundra and forests to the south where very little bar tall and ancient trees grow and only the occasional bear roams.
However last night the village was raided. Sengo the sentry was struck from behind and sent tumbling out of his watch tower. The two nurseries-schools were entered and some sort of drugged rag was used on the inhabitants whilst they slept to keep them that way. All of the children around the ages of seven to fifteen and two of the nurses were taken.
Only those children whose turn it was to stay with their parents and those few in the small hospital remained safe.
A small party of villagers sets off to find and return the missing children and the two nurses. None has any illusions about the world outside the village being anything other than scary, unfriendly and outright dangerous. The furthest any of the villagers has been is to the dwarven city of Nuledzar’s outer gate or to the edge of the Ewnham forest to trade.
I've been waiting for a 5e game
You definitely sound like my kind of GM. It sounds as though you've been reading my OOC posts lol
I'll see what I can come up with...
Are you sure none of the info you've posted breaks this rule?
Quote:
From http://dndplaytest.assets.wizards.co...ments/OPTA.pdf
5. Confidentiality. As part of your participation as a D&D Next playtester, you will receive Playtest Materials that
are proprietary and highly confidential to Wizards. You agree not to copy, excerpt, distribute (either in physical or digital format), publish, display, disseminate, release and/or transmit, in whole or in part, or create derivative materials from any Playtest Materials provided to you.
They do allow online play tests (as of or prior to the 2nd iteration of the play test I think) so online character sheets should be allowable. Where to draw the line at with having too much detail I wouldn't hazard to guess. I can reduce the amount of detail if need be.
I can post daily, often more. If there are exceptions for lost in the desert, locked in a dungeon or abducted by alien's who for some reason don't have a wi-fi connection I'll do my best to let you know.
I like roleplaying mostly, basically I like using these games as a medium more than an end. I know D&D Next fairly well as I DM it in RL, but as its constantly being revised that doesn't mean a whole lot. I love the system, it seems to offer the best of all its predecessors and is great for storytelling.
If you want any references to my posts or posting consistency just ask, or if you wish you can check my posting history.
I appreciate your consideration.
Cheers! Rum
Cloven Grainsburry listened carefully. The town had turned into a bunch of sniveling wimps over the course of a few hours. The lot had gotten soft, the goblins needed their skulls cracked and he had just the stick to do it. He had fought plenty back in his younger days, not long after Marissa died. Then later when those green skinned bastards had gotten a hold of one of his lost kids and he wasn't long showin them what was what. This was no different, they likely just found some way to tame some sort of giant goat to pull a wagon. It was done all sneaky and poison-like, it just reeked of those yellow-gutted goblins.
He sniffed hard and wiped his tobacco filled mouth across his sleeve, streaking it a yellow brown before pushing himself up with his stout staff. I"ll go. I've found more
goats
kids and probably traveled further over the rock and into the wood than most here... and I knows I know hoofed beasts better than any here. I'll get the lil buggers back if I got to carry the lot mehself. S'long as someone will take care of meh goats that is." It wasn't an offer, it was a statement of fact. The oddity was that he probably wouldn't have bothered if her kids weren't taken, but they were and no matter how much he hated her husband he'd go. They would have been his nieces and nephews had her sister lived, and so the old goat herder took it as his own right and obligation to get their brood back.
Beady charcoal eyes peer out from a wiry mop that circled a balding crown and sandwiched between the those beads and wire was a deeply creased and furrowed brow. Cloven Grainburry is and has long been a cantankerous old coot who's face rarely cracks a smile, some would even say that if it did it would quite likely shatter. He has a jutting jaw not unlike the goats he cares for, it does well to chew the tobacco he likes so, and though he can grow no beard he pulls his sideburns down to his chin and ties them in a tuff that's close enough. A few of his teeth appear rotten from the tobacco stained cheese curd and meat often jammed between them, and all of it has a horrible tendency to fly out as he hollers and shouts at those who bother him. Needless to say he got the name Guffo for a reason, but few call him that to his face, save one or two who's exception proves the rule.
Despite his cranky demeanor, he's great to have in a pinch, hunting bear or wolf, he's managed a few, and sports the scars to prove it. Deep and long scars from a bear are drawn down the left side of his face but he now keeps its teeth on a necklace. Though generally he only helps if its in his own interests, any predator who could eat a goat is in his interest.
Not exactly right, but they're the closest I can find right now, mash them together and you'll get something pretty close
^not so bulky
^not so talenta (desertish)
^not so depraved.
To much of the town, particularly the younger generation, he's an awful soul, a hermit and vile man who does not but yell and spit... but to those who truly know him, that's only part the story.
You see, Guffo, or Clover as he was called in his youth wasn't always such a crank. The son of a healer and soldier, he was much the daredevil and quite well liked. He was sharp, strong and agile, joining the watch at a young age and excelling at it. He excelled with any weapon or armour he touched, his still growing body acclimating itself well to their various types and styles but unfortunately the youth of many talents was easily distracted, particularly by the fairer sex.
During his time on watch, he spent more time looking towards town square and berry covered hills, than towards any threat. Somehow, watching women bend over never lost his interest no matter how long he leered. Yet watching was oft as far as it went, when face-to-face with a female he froze so stiff he could be pushed over with the slightest nudge. Most women found his staring disquieting, especially given his inability to charm them with words or actions but there was one girl that found this trait adorable. Marrisa Bulgebottle, a beautiful girl who grew tired of the constant chatter and advances of so called charming men.
Her family owned one of the more prominent vineyards and it was said a man could get drunk off the look of her. Then, maybe it was just Cloven who said that, but it was true enough. They spent all their time together, days and nights, whenever possible, and sometimes when not possible. They combed the hills for berries and herbs for new recipes and scout the roads for traders. Sometimes they'd even go deep into the mountains to see the her favorite
Her favorites where the fainting goats that she said reminded her of him because of how he used to freeze up when they first met. A fancy none but her twin sister knew of.
goats. Then, as is always the case in tales such as these, tragedy struck...
On one of their expeditions into the mountains, he led her to a place he discovered while she was locked up to work at the vineyard. A whole herd of the goats that she so loved on a hidden plateau. At dawn they crept to the secret place and stayed hidden until they appeared. He had promised not to but couldn't resist, as soon as a goat approached he jumped out screaming and scaring it stiff, but before he could even begin to laugh at its topple the rocks gave way from beneath their feet. He and Marrissa tumbled down the cliff, rocks rolling with and over them as they fell. At first it seemed they'd both survive the fall, but on the way back to the village she
due to internal hemorrhaging I suspect, but I'm no halfling doctor
fainted and soon died in his arms as he carried her home.
It was not long after that the war began. At the time Cloven was but a shell of a man and he went fast to the front lines. He fought as a man does when they have nothing to loose, with no concern for his own safety and often put himself between his allies and goblins, deflecting or taking blows meant for others. Many will never forget his sacrifice and courage, though he pays them no mind, many of those he saved simply died later on. He doesn't care to remember, he wasn't doing it out of some sort of altruism or bravery but out of a spite for life. During the second year of battle, his recklessness nearly granted him his wish. He took one too many a blow to the head and was knocked into a coma. By the time he came out the dwarves were already pushing the greenskins back and he was of little use. His razor sharp mind had been dulled to a spoon and his speech was somewhat slurred... many would say he was lucky to be alive... Cloven Grainsburry was not one of them.
So, despite this "blessing" he hadn't forgiven himself for Marissa's death and quite probably never will. Her father and the husband of her twin sister's likely won't either. Though he still gets on alright with this said
one of the few people that gets away with calling him Guffo, along with her husband though he only bares the latter for the former.
sister, as she knew and knows how much he truly cared for Marissa from her sibling's confidence. Even though she cares for him and his well being, Cloven can hardly stand her presence. It pains him too much, because as a twin she reminds him too much of what he'd lost.
After the war his family were but a few aging aunts and cousins who were all distant. Their farm was abandoned in the relocation to Heawold, so picked out a small shack for himself, planted some turnips and built a good sized pen. Then he was out, combing the mountains and gathering the fainting goats that his love had cared for so much. Now he keeps them and cares for them like they were his own children. There is no distance he would not travel to finding them and one of the only times the townfolk see him not hollering at some poor soul is when he's carrying one under his arm.
He makes a living from milk and cheese, along with the occasional tonic. He's the best(only) goat herder around and has even adapted some of his mother's old healing recipes to potency through the use their milk. Yet as much as he cares for his
goats
kids, he's constantly chasing off the halfling youth who love scaring his goats. Screaming and hollering and spitting after them as they run off laughing and his toppled and stiff-legged herd. At this point he probably could tell any child in the town from their footprints or laugh alone.
Guff isn't privy to many recent rumors, so all he has are those from his youth.
• There are creatures called elves, slight creatures and small. Probably around 2-3ft tall and ride small animals like badgers
• Humans exist to the north, their skin can be any color of the rainbow. These Humans fight and war constantly based on their hue, which they obsess over, putting them on flags and banners.
• People who use magic too much use up their souls so they steal the souls of people and animals. In some places they do this so much that they start to look like the animals, turning into bird people, cat people, etc or they turn into doppelgangers. So people who have some animal like characteristics or seem strangely familiar are probably magic users and will steal your soul.
Cloven "Guffo" Grainsburry, Lightfoot Halfling Init +4 | AC 15 | HP 12/12 | HD 1d10 | Expertise Dice d6 Str 13 (+1) Con 14 (+2) Dex 18 (+4) Int 9 (-1) Wis 12 (+1) Cha 9 (-1) Skills: Animal Handling, Spot, Survival
As a Small creature, you cannot use heavy weapons.
Weapon Restriction Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common and Halfling.
When you attack with a dagger, a short sword, or a sling with which you have proficiency, the damage die for that weapon increases by one step: from d4 to d6, or d6 to d8.
Twice per day, when you make an attack roll, check, or saving throw and get a result you dislike, you can reroll the die and use either result. If you have advantage or disadvantage on the roll, you reroll only one of the dice.
You own a home and a small patch of land. Some of your home or land is dedicated to the practice of your profession. Your home and its adornments are consistent with a commoner’s lifestyle, and are comfortable but not lavish. Typically, your home and land are located in the same region you chose for your Local Lore skill. Additionally, you have one helper who can run your business in your absence.
Benefit: You can spend 1 hour to create up to three items, chosen in any combination from this list.
• antitoxin (25 gp)
• healing potion (25 gp)
• healer’s kit (2 gp 5 sp)
To create an item, you must expend material components (herbs, vials, cloth, and the like) worth the amount given for each item.
Besides the obvious "Git 'way from Meh Goats!" shouted at the younger towns folk, Guffo's served in the Goblin wars and knows some of the older halflings from then. Other options could be through the normal town dealings. He sells goat milk and cheese, bartering for other goods, particularly alcohol and the stronger the better. If he doesn't know Camden as a young hoodlum he'd know him from his trade.
As for any party clerics, well they're in for a treat. You see Guffo Grainsburry has this occasional propensity to go to temple drunk. Its not usually when there's any sort of service, but if service decided not to plan itself around his benders, its possible. In such a case he likely stumble in shouting, stop, grumble, spit, then stumble out again. However, If the church was not in session, he'd find some poor cleric to yammer off too about his guilt and maybe cry and shout, or some combination of the preceding. Of course the next day he probably wouldn't remember and if he did he'd at least never admit to any recollection. So if it was drawn to his attention he would guffaw incredulously, deny any such activity on his part(this may involve shouting as part of the denial) and then he'd stalk off home or some other random direction. Later on, the scenario would be repeated, specifically on the anniversary of Marissa's death and on the odd occasion thereafter, such as the death of one of his goats.
He's also had many conversations with youngster and random personages about the war or about how they should stop being such young bastards before it something terrible happens. He never goes into detail about what could happen, and will either change the subject or start yelling and swinging his staff if pressed to far.