Now, I would like to try and test if we can do something like that on SCoD, just as an experiment on alternative styles of playing. I am looking for a small group of 3 or 4 players that can play together at the same time every 1-2 weeks or so (or however players and me manage) for a few hours. My time zone is Germany (GMT+2), but I am at home writing and have pretty free reign over my time, so any time that isn't very early or very late for me is OK, which means something like 10AM morning to midnight German time.
This is how I imagine it:
- the players would need to make new level 1 characters on SCoD.
- these characters are not played except for the DMed sessions, except for activities that give no XP or gold (talking in town to others, shopping for things with the gold they made so far from other players or NPC merchants, but NOT "grinding" or the standard quests).
- the characters stay together as a group and go through special quests and adventures that I will DM for them inside SCoD, and possibly (if necessary) sessions that will run outside SCoD using my home machine as the server.
- Plane of origin is Toril. In fact, all the characters were born or grew up in Neverwinter (this is since most people are probably most familiar with that general area from the NWN games).
- Must be ECL 0 race (so human, dwarf, elf, halfling etc. but no Aasimar, Drow, Svirf etc.).
- Must be starting adventurers by age, so no ancient men or old crones: basically the age that is the default in NWN2 for a new char plus/minus a couple years.
- Must be any Neutral or Good alignment, not Evil. If the char is Chaotic/Lawful is up to you.
- The group's members are friendly or neutral to each other, at least at the start.
- I would like the group to consist of the "classic" combination of Fighter, Thief, Wizard, Healer if possible, though some flexibility is allowed of course.
The adventure starts in Sigil, in that back alley, just as the characters awake, carrying only their standard militia gear and some small personal things.wrote: You grew up in Neverwinter. At an early age you joined the Neverwinter Militia for whatever reason, be it the lust for glory in battle or a desire to enforce law and order. One day you were doing combat exercises when a general call to arms comes through: something very serious is happening in a small forest glade nearby. Your commander tells your squadron (which includes all playing characters) to get your weapons, this is not a drill.
You travel out to the forest, where a full scale battle is already in full progress. Strange lights dance around the clearing, smoke and fire are everywhere and more than a hundred militiamen are fighting weird, horrific creatures that you have never seen before. At the center of the battle is a pulsating distorted dimensional portal of some sort, out of which the creatures are pouring. A figure in black robes is standing near the portal, gesticulating in some ritual.
You dismount the horse cart you came in on and your commander yells at you to get ready for fighting the monsters. You storm into the fray, helping the badly hurt men already there, but you soon realize that against these demonic looking invaders you are hopeless. Around you scores of men are killed in terrible ways, and your commander is literally torn limb from limb and devoured. You and your friends do your best to stay alive and simply keep the monsters surrounded, hoping and praying that Neverwinter sends reinforcements.
Just as you think that the next moment will be the last of your life, help finally arrives. A group of elite warriors that you don't recognize appear seemingly out of nowhere and push back the demons. You think you recognize one of the fabled Neverwinter Nine among them. The warriors smash a breach through the demons using magic and swords, and at last the Neverwinter Nine confronts the figure in the black robe in a wizard's duel.
The magic flying around nearly blinds you, and at last, as you still defend yourself against a demon, the black figure falls. Moments later the portal seems first to expand, then violently implodes, and you feel a powerful force as if from a strong wind. You pass out from the shock for an unknown amount of time. When you wake up, you are lying in a dark, dirty back alley in an unknown city. Up in the sky you see a strange arch...
So, if you would like to play, please PM me with the character's background information and when you can play, and I will notify you when a time and a possible group emerges. You can of course talk to other players and design your characters together. You don't need to write a whole book, just 1 page maximum or so is enough so I have a general idea what kind of person this is. If you include a rough outline of how you would level this char I would appreciate it too.
If you have questions, feel free to ask them in this thread. I haven't done this on a PW before, so this will be a learning experience for me as well.
______________________________________
Group 1, Sunday 7PM GMT+0 sessions:
- Pasha (Rafael Kural, Archer) GMT+0
- Mausman (Volerius Aeternum, Paladin) GMT+2
- Gitrodamus (Bolmy Higgins)
- greypawn (Quon Loopzig) GMT-5
On making the character:
- You can make your characters as soon as you want, and style their gear too.
- You can use all the standard given money and buy stuff from the bazaar too, though IC they got whatever that is from Neverwinter, so its sort of OOC shopping because I'd like to start you guys right after waking up in the alley. PLEASE DO NOT GRIND YOURSELF EXTRA MONEY WITH QUESTS AND SUCH.
- Set your faction to Prime of course.
- When you style your gear please also try to go with the "militia" theme, so for example use the cloak with the Neverwinter Eye design and those greycloak chain mails and such. For now at least I'd like to avoid everyone looking like they jumped out of a Sado-Maso fantasy hehe.
Character biographies (group 1):
wrote:Gitrodamus: Bolmy Higgins
He's twenty-three years old, in quite good physical, and mental, condition. The mental part can be argued, as we all witnessed last time. He's actually quite intelligent, but does his best to hide what he knows, because that usually leads to "problems" i.e. promotions + responsibility. That's something he loathes. He's usually quite cheery and likes to fool around, but there are those situations when it all gets serious indeed.
As he's a ranger, he served as a scout in one of the militia regiments. He uses a heavy crossbow, mainly because that's a better weapon to hunt animals with. Also packs quite a punch against armored foes.
wrote:Mausman:
Volerius Aeternum, 30 years old, Witch Hunter.
Volerius got recruited into the militia at being 18, a zealous follower of Tyr.
Favoring the rapier as weapon and a torch in other hand, Volerius sees it as a duty to hunt out unnatural, evil beings. Not a standard Paladin to behold at all, he tends to bring people of balance with his rough, dark, grim appearance yet clear favor to abide all laws.
He tends to bend the laws a bit if required to purge evil...just going that wee step over the border to get the job done....sometimes getting him into trouble with his superiors....who tend to let him off due to his honest nature if confronted on his actions. Volerius never shows regret however.
Volerius might be hars in his ways and might outright scowl at someone for doing something stupid, but in the end, only because he would care about the well being of the other and himself.
Volerius was part of that battle....determined to purge the evil that stood there.....caught in the blast that ensued....sucked into the portal and bumping his head against a thick twig of a tree....knocking him out....
average height, slightly muscular, agile. long dark hair and blue eyes.
wrote:Pasha:
Rafael Kural
Age: 27
Race: human
Gender: male
Class (main): Ranger
Style: mainly archer/ranged
Born into the nobility within Calimport, second oldest of four brothers and a younger half sister. Moved to Memnon as a family soon after the half sister was born. While the parents and older brother followed a clerical path, "Rafe" was a roamer, an explorer, comfortable in more natural environs in woods than in city. While he supported his brother's quest to reinstate the family's position and eliminate the corruption of the current "Pasha" of Calimport, his calling took him on another path that saw him travelling far and wide. He followed his half sister once to elben Aator, a lost isle of Abeir Toril, to keep an eye on her but returned to Calimsham with her and her man before leaving with his animal companion, Pandora, to Neverwinter. There he had heard that the Militia were recruiting and in need of skilled scouts. He joined and completed the basic training, finding the discipline hard for his free soul but persevered as his usefulness to the militia increased, found the camaraderie of brothers enjoyable and the adventures with them exciting.
______________________________________wrote:Basic Information
Name: Quon Loopzig
Aliases: None yet
Gender: Male
Race: Rock Gnome
Age: 45
Profession: Illusionist in the Neverwinter Militia
Languages: Animal, Gnome, Elf, Dwarf, Hin
Accent: Neverwinter
Physical Information
Height: 3'5” or 92 cm
Weight: 60 lbs or 27kg
Body build: Small, even for a gnome.
Skin type: Rough
Hair style: Loosely combed hair style accompanied with a neatly trimmed chin hair
Scars: None
Tattoos: None
Colouring:[b]Hair:[/b] Silver [b]Eyes:[/b] Grey [b]Skin:[/b] Dark [/li]
Mental Information
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Philosophy: Its a terribly exciting world.
Deity/Beliefs: Baravar Cloakshadow
Personality:[u]Optimistic:[/u][i] More than likely will look to the brighter side of things [/i] [u]Eccentric:[/u] [i] Smart but very odd[/i] [u]Easily Excited:[/u][i] Things are just amazing! So is stuff![/i] [u]Humorous:[/u][i] Likes jokes, likes telling jokes[/i] [/li]
Additional Information
Gear: second hand militia gear, back pack full of jars and trinkets, a walking stick, a beat up crossbow
Jewelry: goggles on his belt
Habbits/hobbies: Bug Collecting, Tinkering, Golems, Gardening
General Health: Really good heath
Favorite Drink: Pumpkin flavored drinks
Weaknesses: Easily scared, mind wanders, random at times
wrote:Wolfsbane:
Name: Guntram Abendroth
Class: Swordmage (Sorcerer as a main class, splashing in some Rogue & Fighter)
Alignment: True Neutral
Age: 23
Height: 5’10” (178 cm)
Weight: 172 lbs. (72 kg)
Hair: Ruddy blonde
Eyes: Green
Physical appearance: Medium height, fair skin and no visible scars.
Günther had an easy life. His early childhood was without worries. As oldest son to Gerhardt Bergmann he was destined to inherit the reins to The Gilded Fox Merchant Company set up by his grandfather Helmut Bergmann. Helmut passed when Günther was but a young boy and his father deemed it time for Günther to be instructed in the ways on running the family business. At the time Günther turned seven Gerhardt decided it was time to put a stop to the child’s days spend playing around. Gerhardt brought in tutors on mathematics, finance and penmanship to educate his son on business decisions and legible bookkeeping. He arranged for Günther to go on trips to the mines that had made the Bergmann family their wealth and make him see for himself the process of delving. He also was instructed by artisans on how to process the refining of gold and cutting the gemstones in order to combine them into jewelry. Despite grasping the educational lessons and his well off upbringing, Günther did not seem too thrilled about all of it.
As Günther turned twelve his father got more and more irritated with the boys behavior and he and his wife, Johanna Von Abendroth, argued about the boy’s fate. There were no harsh words between him. Both understood the other’s point of view. He wanted his oldest son to be ready to run the company in a few years, she wanted to bemother him for just a little while longer. They both did agree that the boy could use a bit more discipline.
The solution would have to be in hiring a sword master to teach the boy the art of dueling. Within a few weeks Gerhardt managed to hire on an elven swordmaster. Even though Günther did pick up the fighting style of longsword and dagger at a fast pace, he rebelled against the matter on discipline. There was one thing that interested the boy in the swordmaster’s technique, his ability to draw power from within himself and channel it through his strikes and stances. Fascinated Günther soaked up all that the elf would teach him about swordplay and the use of magic.
To his father’s dismay, during his late teens, Günther fell in with a group of merchant sons of lesser standing and repute. His behavior turned to that of a scoundrel and a lout and was oft seem slumming and drinking at inns and taprooms across Neverwinter. In a final desperate attempt Gerhardt devised a plan to arrange a marriage between his son and the daughter of Hilbrandt Gruenewald, a fellow merchant and good friend of Gerhardt. Together the two families would stand stronger in Neverwinter’s mercantile circles and it gave Gerhardt the hope that Hilbrandt’s daughter Brünhild might bring some sense of responsibility in the boy’s life.
Brünhild was quite the beauty and in any other situation Günther would not have minded getting to know her better, but due to his fathers interference he took it as a way for his father to control him. In reply Günther charmingly poured a bottle of Sembian Red into Brünhild’s twin sister before bedding her.
One sister filled with guilt, another filled with hate and a dissolved business merger between two merchant companies later, Gerhardt found himself the laughing stock amongst his peers and fellow merchants. A few of his dealings went sour due to Günthers actions and a feud started with the Gruenewald family. It took Gerhardt all of his effort to improve his status and not lose face. In his anger he disowned Günther and renamed Manfried the family heir.
Where it not for his mother Johanna, Günther would have been living in the gutter. Though upset over his choices Günther was still her son and she arranged a meeting with Rendrik, an old friend of her late father Hagan. Rendrik had served under her father in the Neverwinter Militia and she asked him for the favor of having Günther enlist in the militia under Rendriks supervision. Though knowing Günther history but at the same time not wanting to deny the daughter of the man who had saved his life twice, Rendrik reluctantly agreed.
With no other options left, Günther (too late) saw the error of his ways. He reluctantly enlisted, mainly for the mental wellbeing of his mother Johanna. Günther felt himself no longer a Bergmann and due to this he adopted his mothers last name, dropped the Von in Von Abendroth and changed his name from Günther to Guntram. Since he joined up with the militia the name Guntram, meaning War Raven in the old tongue, seemed fitting enough.
At current time Guntram Abendroth, as he calls himself nowadays, has been in the militia for almost two years. So far heÂ’s kept the fact he knows a few minor spells to himself. CanÂ’t hurt to keep the others out of the loop, especially if you already donÂ’t really fit in and have only yourself to fall back on, right?
wrote:Aidelynn:
Grevin is an 18 year old human male who grew up in the Beggar's Nest district of Neverwinter. His parents had been comfortable merchants, living over their shop in the City Core until their death. Grevin lays the blame for the deaths at the death of Luskan, though he tends not to elaborate on why. It's not clear whether his anti-Luskan tendencies are justified or simple prejudice.
What is clear is that sometime before his 7th birthday, Grevin's parents were killed, their shop burned, and Grevin was bundled off to an orphanage. He fled the orphanage within a fortnight, and invariably found himself in the Beggar's Nest after being chased from the more prosperous city districts.
Children do not survive long on their own in a setting such as that, and it was only a matter of time before Grevin found himself working for the Silver Palms, a rather grandiose name for such a small band of petty theives and con artists.
The Palms enjoyed a modicum of paradoxical success; paradoxical in that the largest factor in their success was how minimal it was. They managed to avoid the attention of the larger thieves' guilds and the city guard by scoring only few jobs, mostly too small for anyone to be overly bothered with.
And so Grevin grew up, a brother in a small band of thieves, living marginally and warily, hidden in the plain sight of the Neverwinter slums.
In the span of one Beshaba-Blessed tenday, it all went wrong. Two brothers were caught and hanged for a burglary that went bad. Three days later, Hanloch Nast, the Palms' patriarch, died of a sudden illness. Maddened by grief, two other members got into a fight in one of the Beggar's Nest drinking pits.
Fights there rarely turned lethal, but this one did. When it was over, one brother was dead and the other fled, leaving a noble son of Blacklake to bleed out in the gutter. Guards caught him the next day, and there was no trial. Braga was "killed while resisting arrest" and suddenly, the eight members of the band were three.
There are times when Grevin reflects on how everything might have been different. The Palms had survived improbably untouched for years. Perhaps if these deaths had occurred over a span of 10 years, he might have still been running the streets of Neverwinter.
Instead, Grevin walked into a recruiters office and made his mark on the page the moment he walked in. Within the hour, he was at the training barracks being beaten and bellowed at while the drill instructors tried to make a man of him.
Grevin has been a soldier for less than a year when the call to arms came and his party was mysteriously transported...wherever they are.
wrote:cdnspr:
Kreegan was the youngest son of a fierce but foolish Elk Tribe warrior. Around the age of 11, his father traded him for beads and other worthless trinkets to travelling merchants from Neverwinter. An unruly youth, these merchants soon let him loose on the streets.
Upon reaching maturity, he joined the militia, simply for lack of finding acceptance elsewhere. His battle prowess was praised by his superiors, yet they found it nigh impossible to control him.
Kreegan resents his companions. If he sees the opportunity, he may attempt to assert his dominance over the other members of the lost patrol. Failing that, their unplanned trip to Sigil may be his opportunity to shed his obligations to the Neverwinter militia altogether.
wrote:Raneguin:
Name: Pishnak
Race: Half-Orc
Class: Monk
Pishnak was a large child thanks to her oricish blood. She grew up in neverwinter an outsider, constantly feeling outcast and discriminated. Still, despite the taunting and negativity she remained calm... this was the teachings of a man she called father, a monk of the Sun Soul, follower of Sune. He taught his daughter to find the beauty in all aspects of life, and taught her to channel her frustration and let it go. While he was not actually her father, the man treated her like a daughter along with his own three human children.
It wasn't until father passed away that Pishnak felt lost and truly alone. She had become a young woman but lacked any companionship. She continued to train her body in solitude for years until she found a call for new soldiers to join the Neverwinter militia. With her trained body she joined in hopes of finding comradery... little did she know, what she would find would change her life forever.