A man of the city in the wild, a man of coin stands at nature’s side? Can this go well, can it bear fruit? Will he be worthy, will duty take root?
A product of chaos storms and waaaaaaaaaaaay to much caffine, Beet has boundless energy and the single mindedness of a stick.
He has a secret that only few know. He is being watched, always, unseen,unheard. This secret is on the priority of global security. If only he knew what he was truely, what his secret is.
“Hehe, a good prank never hurt anybody. Lets do it anyway”
Very few carry the griffin tamer bloodline, and those that do, are given a remarkable gift…
Ppoor little Corticus, born much smaller then the other fauns. Someone needs to help him out, someone needs to build him up…
Most people wake up in the morning hoping something interesting will happen today, Iziah just hopes to wake up in the morning…
Cornelia served the Grand Wizard Elkhorne for many years, tending dutifully to his laboratory and making sure his robes were properly cleaned and mended. That was until Cornelia slipped and fell down the spiraling staircase from the orrey and broke her neck…and died.
A bounty hunter who seems to reach full potential in battle while under the influence of alcohol. He is constantly traveling from pub to pub looking for work. He has stupidly accepted jobs assigned to kill werewolves, vampires, orcs, and the most fierce of beasts.
Two unlikely people. An unlikely pair. An unlikely love.
Sitri Andromalion has been the local druid of the Vepar Valley as long as anyone can remember. The local populace, long used to the wisdom and experience of the old druid are concerned as his health is failing…
A suspicious mage with a taste for making things.
Dark eyed and sultry voiced, few men can ignore the words that spill from Malhonne’s full lips. Fewer ever notice their valuables stolen as she whispers obscenity and sweetness in their ears.
An quirky Gnome with little patience and much skill with a flame.
Bumbling young wizard, who could link the PC’s to an ancient and reknowned guild…
A once noble man, he was tossed aside and tortured. He is an empty shell of what use to be Human.
A result of the experiments of the world’s first bioengineer, as manifested by a needle and thread and a whole lot of blotting paper.
A wonderer, a warrior. He is both cursed and blessed, he is feared and loved, but always misundestood.
A strong fighter, but an exellent assassin. He is the son of the Bandit Lord, and is the rightful heir to his title.
A man with three identities. He sells the services of thieves and assassins, and he’s not above doing some of the work himself.
What if casting magic changed (for a few hours or days depending on the strength of the spell) the colour of the skin of the spellcaster? It could lead sadly to a very racist world to rp in.