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February 20, 2014, 4:34 pm

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Guild Game Group 5

By:

Player 5's Pc's

The Guild Game

Wyatt DeMark

Description: Human Male 5’9” tall, 120lb, 23 year old Sorcerer.

Seven generations, each with seven sons. The seventh of these sons was born on a baleful winter's eve full of wild freakish storms that blasted wild signs into the ground beyond his birth home. It was the hour that tries men's souls, when questions without answers were asleep, (about 3 am), on the thirteenth day of the month. Signs and portents filled the night sky in the stars and a freak full moon aligned perfectly with the planets.

Unfortunately most of these seven sons were bastards and dead beat dads using the label "adventurer" to excuse their philandering. So only one son even knew he was the seventh child of the family - which it turned out wasn't true anyway. The planets aligned perfectly with the moon meaning any such significance was lost in the ill-portended sky. A sky which was obstructed for miles and days by the season - appropriate storm. Whose lightning blasted signs were lost in the swirling snows until spring, at which time they were already ruined by the mud and movement of animals. The timing of the birth? Remembered only as an absolutely god awful hour of the morning. Also due to a clerical error, an extra day earlier in the year meant the calendar showed the date was the twelfth.

Wyatt deMark was born to his mother as a very strange boy, but as she was an adventurer he seemed normal. By the time he showed the gift of sorcery she was exploring ruins again. On a few ascensions he joined her and acquired his taste for dungeoneering and architecture. Their last shared journey saw a return to an old favorite dungeon - running afoul of the denizens - to save him she threw herself in the path of a monster. Wyatt, fearing for his life, ran for his life. Her cries of suffering chased him to the surface and still haunt him today.

Durg Shumaker

Description: Half-orc male, 6’ tall, 180lb, 25 year old Magus.

Durg Shumaker was a half-orc born to a human woman who had been captured as slave stock by orcs, which was common. Less common, she and the other slaves were liberated by the army patrol intercepting their captors before escaping their home nation.

Durg was thus born into a world of humans instead of orcs, where his half breed nature kept him at odds with the majority of his peers. Though raised in a loving home Durg never completely absolved himself or made peace with the issue of his conception - a lifelong guilt complex reaching its worst in a brief worship of Desna. Until a local cleric explained he was causing more offense in this way.

Determined to overcome his self-described handicap, Durg apprenticed to scribes and book makers - eventually earning his keep with a local wizard. Studied into magic and the practiced violence coming inherent to the edges of urban habitation led Durg to eventually feel stifled by his home. Armed lightly, he set out for fortune and freedom.

Gulgrim Mountainside

Description: Dwarf male, 5’2” tall, 170lb, 65 year old Drunken Master Monk.

Alcoholic, mildly obsessive, and agoraphobic are just a few words to describe Gulgrim. After being dis owned for drinking too much of his father's special reserves, Harry Mountainside, Gulgrim found work mining out new buildings in the mountain he called home. Almost all of his time by now was spent drinking, digging, brawling after drinking, or sleeping after one of the others. It was during this time he met the dwarf that would be his master.

An old, bald, similarly beer soaked dwarf soundly beat Gulgrim into a coma before adopting, (kidnapping), the fledgling pugilist into his school (systematic mental conditioning and physical abuse). The novice trained under the master for years learning to harness his liquor, stone work, and his inherent simmering rage into a potent force of good, (profit).

All things must end however, and Gulgrim found the need to make his own way, (he was cut off from the schools kegs after almost drowning in one). So he bid a tearful adieu, (fled in the night), to his master to seek booze and to battle in the wider world.



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Comments ( 1 )
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Voted valadaar
September 17, 2014, 11:07
0xp
Wyatt DeMark - his background almost(?) is satire, 7th son of 7ths son with crazy coincidences.

Durg Shumaker - 'Typical' half orc birth condition, though that is really no surpise, but going into magic is relatively rare.

Gulgrim Mountainside - Alcoholic, Agoraphobic dwarf. Entertaining but very close to the stereotype.

Usable all, though none revolutionary.




Random Idea Seed View All Idea Seeds

Wet Faeries

       By: Murometz

Sages and naturalists frown at the common name given to these strange creatures by the small folk, but sometimes the silliest nicknames for creatures, places and people persevere in the minds of many. “Purifiers”, “Pond Jellies”, “Breath-Stealers”, “Lung-Ticklers” and “River Butterflies” are much less commonly heard appellations for these life forms. Wet Faeries are basically (and simply) a species of fist-sized, fresh-water jellyfish. Several traits steer them toward the peculiar category however. Firstly, Wet Faeries are nearly invisible in the water, much like their marine cousins but even more so. One can swim in a river swarming with these critters and not even notice their presence. Secondly, they possess the unique ability to clean and purify whatever body of water they inhabit. They do this via some sort of biological filtration process, sucking in all toxins present in the water, and releasing it back in its purest form. Needless to say, they are both a blessing and a curse to whichever folk dwell beside the rivers and lakes Wet Faeries inhabit. On one hand, no purer water can be found anywhere than a Wet Faerie lake or pond, and yet, in “pure” water “life” tends in fact to die out, lacking the needed nutrients to prosper. Thirdly, their “sting” is (unfortunately) virulently poisonous to all mammalians. Wet Faeries are loathe to sting anyone or anything, using their barbed fronds as a last line of defense, but if stung, most swimmers will suffer respiratory arrest, and die within minutes, usually drowning before they can make it back to shore.

Alchemists, druids, and less savory characters have studied these creatures over the years, and have predictably found all the ways Wet Faeries could be exploited. Morbidly humorous, some bards find it, that the Poisoners and Assassins Guilds as well as the Healer’s Union, all prize these creatures. The assassins use the extracted venom in obvious fashion, while the priests and healers use the still-living jelly-fish to sterilize other poison potions and to cure those already poisoned on death’s door.

It is known that a certain Earl Von Trumble keeps his vast castle moat stocked with Wet Faeries, the waters so clear that every bone of every one of his past enemies can be clearly seen on the bottom, twenty two feet below.

Encounter  ( Any ) | June 20, 2014 | View | UpVote 4xp


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