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'Patch'

Blackfoot

Carrion Crown

Race: Gnome

Gender: Male

Role: Controller

Class/Level: Umbral Sorcerer/13

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'Roku'

"Do not fear the dark, but those that dwell within it. "

Kodie

Broken Sword

Race: Vampire - Lasombra

Gender: Male

Role: Striker

Description:

Background:

Wrong place, wrong time, but an interesting outcome.

This is ‘Roku's’ past in a few short phrases. When's his parents made a great trip across the oceans and many lands to come to the United States and into the state of Louisiana in pursuance of a cultural endeavor they had no intentions of losing their son as they knew him. Already sharp or mind and body, his parents did not think to enroll him in any colleges here, as they were not meant to stay very long.

They were there to help enrich the foundation of a new building that would bring their culture to the United States and be free of political biases and influence from either Japan or the United States -- And so in 1927 they arrived in New Orleans just three short years after the society had been formed his parents arrived along with him. Nevermind the fact that ‘Roku’ never wanted to come here in the first place, but it was not his choice and had to follow his parents – more precisely his father.

Helping his father was not his ambition, though he would help his mother when she called. He would procrastinate and argue with his father – which would lead him to go walk into the city away from the Japanese society’s neighborhood. The more time he spent there the more his father resented him and gave 'Roku' even more reason to spend time there.

A couple years go by and ‘Roku’ makes himself more acquainted in the age-old city he now called home. He began to favor a tea house that was in town. It was owned by an older Japanese woman, Kyoshi-sama as he came to call her, and strangely enough it was only open after dark. She would greet people as her staff would wait on them.

But over time his frequency was noticed by a group of people that did not care for his adventuring to their side of town. Shortly after leaving the tea house he was cornered into an alley by three men, all looking to be of some importance by their dress. As if moving with more speed than Roku had ever seen, in even the finest trained warriors of his people the three descended upon him. It seemed an unfair fight for one trained even as well as ‘Roku’ was he could not get too many functional blows into any of the men before their brutishness pounded the fight and blood out of him.

After losing consciousness and once again regaining it -- his first sense to return was the smell of hojicha - a roasted Japanese tea that he loved. His second observation was that Kyoshi-sama had been watching over him. With a small interaction Kyoshi convinced him to drink a special tea she had made to make him feel better. He drank the viscous, dark tea without question and with quickness. He rested again after drinking the oddly soothing drink and awoke the next night.

Upon rising he felt the need to greatly seek out those that had assaulted him and put his vengeance upon them. So he did, he found the three men that had cornered them and did the same to them. He found his strength to be remarkable as he easily threw one to the side as he grappled another. When the fight was done he had killed two of the three and the other lay lay in the alley missing an arm that had been used to kill one of his allies.

His immediate thought was to return to Kyoshi-sama and he did. When he arrived she gave him more of the thick, tantalizing tea that he drank without question and with haste. Relaxing from his brawl with the other three he fell into slumber, guided by the sounds of Kyoshi's voice. So he slumbered for a great while and rose again to Kyoshi's voice and another glass of the viscid, black-red tea.

This was the night that, as Kyoshi explained it, he would die in the eyes of the rest of the world. So it went that there was a setup of were ‘Roku’ would be and a great and terrible accident happened and nothing but a charred body would remain. His parents, more precisely his mother, were devastated and returned to Japan never to again think of returning to the United States for any purpose.

Thus began the journey and new life of ‘Roku’ - a ghoul to a vampire. Kyoshi taught him many new things of how the night was more fruitful than the day. For a few years he remained the keeper of the shop during the day - receiving orders and taking care of other aspects of Kyoshi's personal business that could not be handled at night.

Just before whispers of a war came back from his home land, Japan, Kyoshi told him that it was time that he be embraced by the shadow and the night. So it was that ‘Roku’ became a member of the Lasombra and the Sabbat. Now a childer to Kyoshi he would taught in the ways of kindred, society, politics, fighting, and of course the masquerade.

After doing very well under the guidance of Kyoshi and a few others, she has new plans for him in a place that is now desolate of Sabbat members. Confident that he would do well after many years under her tutelage and with his own natural skills of combat, social interaction, reconnaissance of information and the ability to think freely.

So let us see what unfolds in this new chapter of ‘Ruko’s’ life.

Details:

'Sev' Reese

"My job is to make sure that you stay alive"

KHilton

More Human Than Human

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Class: Solo

Background:

Details:

(Elicia) Kiryae (Retired)

Megan

The Ruined Isles

Race: Half-Elf

Gender: Female

Class/Level: Cleric/1

Description:

Background:

Details:

(Father) Barnabas Barclay Begbie

"Fair winds and following seas."

Kyle

Curse of Strahd

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Role: Striker

Class/Level: Gunslinger/1

Description:

Background:

Barnabas was born into a low caste family who, for most of their family's generation, worked as pig famrers and fisherman for the local royal family; Lord Richard and Lady Deredrith Dingwald of the Blindmouth coast located in the province Dullsard on the continent Ein.

Unlike his family, Barnabas was not content with life of poverty and servitude, because of this Barnabas had very little respect and love for his family seeing as "losers" or thoughtless drones who deserved the life that they had because they never tried to make their situation better, so Barnabas often rebelled and shirked his many responsibility's at great expense to his family, and by being the oldest son in the family his duties were the most labor-intensive and often impossible tasks for his younger siblings who simply too young to accomplish these duties. Often, when he left, he would go to the port or tavern to try and talk/drink with the many pirates/mercenaries that came to port; Barnabus was young and also naive, the rough and tumble life of these men inspired his young self to become one of them, seeing these men who were brave enough to take from the world when the world often took back more from people like Barnubas.

One day, after leaving early to go drink and try to impress a group of mercenary/pirates Barnabas tasked his youngest brother Davis to reel in the last net of blindmouth fish to clean and then wheel them back to be processed. Just as Barnabas reached reached the tavern, Davis became entangled in the net of fish which plummeted off of the dock into the water, ultimately drowning. It was by nightfall when Barnabas was stumbling back from the tavern after an evening of hard drinking and failed attempts of convincing a pirate to take him out on the seas on his next voyage out when Barnabas stumbled into a mix of local fisherman and guardsmen fishing out the body of his youngest brother. Barnabas didn't say a word, as his father held Davis's blue body in his arms and stared into Barnabas with a silence of numb resignation. In the years that followed, Barnabas never went back home, he spent every day as a drunk and beggard outside the tavern, occasionally stumbling by his father or mother, or sisters, too drunk to even recognize them.

On his 25th birthday Barnabas strangled a man to death in an alleyway; the man was a merchant mariner, whose goods were incredibly vital for the town and Dingwald family. His murder, turned away one of the three vital lines of supply that came in and out of Blindsmouth, effectively marking Barnabas and his family for swift and (mostly) unjust punishment. What was left of the Begbie family was sent into the east across the Knochenmehl plains for technical exile while Barnabas was slated for execution. The day came for execution and Barnabas was led out of his cell however it was not to the gallows but instead to the docks were he was met by a Priest surrounded by armed mercenaries. The Priest had learned of Barnabas' execution, past, and his reputation among the town and took pity on Barnabas. Father Dory was a Missionary of Selune(seh-LOON-ay, the Goddess of he Moon) and was overseen(secretly) by a small diverse order who were known as Swords of The Lady, to travel the world, establish missions in "honor" of Selune but many observe this to be less of a religious mission but, arguably, military. Wherever Father Dory stayed to set up a mission he would also recruit lost/astray boys who were often castaways of society, victims of abuse/poverty/tragedy and in many ways Father Dory facilitated a nomadic reformatory for these boys, provided the bare essentials as well as an education in sailing/swordsmanship/ and basic education. These classes were often taught by the men who were also taken in by Father Dory but now also served his Father Dory's guards and personal crew.
For the first time in Barnabas’ life he felt a part of something, he felt loved, he had direction and most importantly he saw a future for himself. Despite the reformative education and sole purpose for serving and protecting Father Dory, a holy man himself, the men themselves were still prone to behavior and lived a lifestyle that would be considered unbecoming of any self-respecting man, certainly for priests of most cloths. They were, after all, sailors and sells swords but there were those who fell into practice of what Father Dory preached and naturally formed an awkward rift between the crew that would, from time to time, cause small altercations (a few started by Barnabas.)
As important as it was for his men to "come into the fold",as Father Dory so often preached, he saw it more important to gather and keep, well trained, and loyal men to protect him than to convert.. Not that he didn't try.However different their attitudes, the crew loved Father Dory and even greater than their love was respect for him even if many would not or could not say it aloud. Fights broke out, arguments were had, but at the end of the day order, discipline, and respect for each other won over, but many would admit that if not for Father Dory in the first place there’d be a lot more broken noses and lasting grudges.

As is time new faces became old and old faces faded away in one form or the other, so did too Barnabas’. Twenty four years passed since he was taken in, he was now on the verge of being an “old-timer.” A badge of honor given by peers with a Salt’s blessing( a Salt being a graduated old-timer, a coveted informal rank for most human sailors that have reached absolute mastery in sailing) and a term for respect to be rendered by tadpoles (an insult, depending on context, coined for mostly the young and inexperienced.) Around this time Barnabas was well known and respected by the crew; Barnabas must’ve taught hundreds of tadpoles all from sailing, navigation on land/sea to haggling down a whore’s nightly price or the best techniques to drink others under the table or at least to get them drunk faster than you. Barnabas was reaching stability in his life, no longer young to be caught off guard by whatever the sea had to offer but still not too old to be held back by age.
So when Barnabas saw a young man drifting on a bit of burnt wood, floating away along with bits of debris and human bodies, Barnabas was not held back by neither ignorance nor health; he jumped in to bring the young man aboard. He was unconscious, badly burned and a tiefling. After he brought the young man aboard it was clear; whomever or whatever had attacked his ship and his was all that remained. There was no question among anyone that he would coming with them. His name was Drago. Barely twenty years old and truly an anomaly for the crew; never had they a tiefling on board. It wasn’t as if they were strangers to different races, they’ve seen tieflings, both slept with, drank, and even killed a just as equal an amount. For some it was just odd, and to the most paranoid an omen. Tieflings certainly have developed a reputation for the weird, and more often than not, when you dealt with Tieflings something always bad came out of it ( if you weren’t watching them.) For all of the strange looks and misgivings aside Father Dory reminded the men that whatever life this boy lived (good or bad) was now over and that Selune had blessed this boy for another opportunity. And with that final word it was decided.
When the boy came to, he was quiet, but responsive. The men tended to him as best as they could and as much as Drago let them. He was still in a dark place, and the men knew all too well where he was at, so they left him be. It wasn't long before the boy came back into himself and into the open arms of the crew. The boy was smart, and picked up on things quick. Only had to show him something once for him to understand and after a couple of tries to master.
He earned his place fast among the tadpoles and impressed even the most sternest of Salts aboard. The boy was a natural sailor.
But what really separated the lad from everybody else, he was a real charmer and could back up whatever was said to whomever they were. A real blessing of Selune, to Father Dory. Even faster than Drago’s innate ability to master everything he touched, was the relationship that would form between himself and Father Dory. The two were close, then soon inseparable. You would’ve thought them Father and Son if it were not for his horns and crimson skin. Drago like to move fast, never slowed down. There was always something to do, learn, or someone to talk to. Drago’s arrival created an unspoken rift between the crew; something that the men had always managed but never came to an understanding ; this of course being the religious divide between the crew. It was only natural that Drago became a personal study for Father Dory; the more Drago learned from Father Dory’s lessons the more devout he himself became. Over the years that devotion turned to passion which developed zealotry than to outright fanaticism and what was once a small and mended rift became a complete and obvious divide. Most of the tadpoles and dozens of the old-timers came to see Drago as a prophet of Tyche, and borderline worshiped Father Dory. The other made up of the salts and the old-timer’s that erred on tradition and the brotherhood that was formed through sailing/swordsmanship and being a bastion for the worlds orphans and societal cast aways. Fights were more frequent, the crew trusted less.
The ship made anchor off the coast of a tropical island in the frangeretur sea; Father Dory received word of a newly discovered tribespeople, untainted by modern society and was a prime opportunity to set up the first mission on that island. Drago coordinated the shore party and followed Father Dory into the thick and dark jungle. When Father Dory left the boat was left in charge to Barnabas, being an executive officer by now. There was no telling when the shore party would be back, sometimes it took month’s even years, but communication was always maintained every couple of days, often for more supplies or to change out tired men, etc. Even if communication drop offed for a day or two, it wasn’t reason to fret, things can never go exactly as planned and more often than not it was because of some lost tadpole or weather that prevented word coming back. So when the first time came to send a party to reconnect with shore party Barnabas did so. When the first search party never returned Barnabas sent another, this time more old timers and with their weapons/armor ( just in case.) When the second party didn’t come back Barnabas raised the alarm. It was one thing for a group of tadpoles to not return, but when you sent old-timers who didn’t come back…there was something very wrong. As if to punctuate Barnabas’ internal paranoia a deafening unwordly scream pierced his ears bringing every man onboard to his knees. It seemed to have shook the very island itself only to be replaced by roars of thunder and lightning, seemingly come out of no where. It was the worst storm Barnabas had ever experienced. Thick, torrents of rain, hurricane gales pushed men from starboard to port, port to starboard. The storm nearly tore the ship to pieces, if not for the combined efforts of the remaining crew and Barnabas as well. They managed to navigate the ship into a nearly enclosed beach that formed a half-crescent; enough to protect the ship from the worst of the storm, but not enough to keep the ship seaworthy. Barnabas and he rest of the crew abandoned their ship, for now, and backtracked their way back to the main landing area in which they were originally docked, it was around this time when the storm finally died down. Barnabas arranged half of the remaining crew to sray with the boat and begin salvaging what they could from the ship, while himself and the rest if the crew to follow the shore party path.

The worn path was harsh and unforgiving; vegetation was thick, and often leaves were razor sharp and tall, the path would fall down into steep hills and escalate just as quickly. Vegetation was thick and obnoxious. The jungle canopy towered overhead blocking out almost all sun or indication of daylight; with thick jungle canopy accompanied sweltering humidity and sealed in an enormously high temperature. One rarely could spot any wildlife but could a;ways hear it. Whether it was insect or mammal the jungle teemed with organic noise but one could never pin down exactly where it came from even if it seemed only inches away from you.

(nine lives) Murphy

"Religion is for the weak"

Phil

Shackled City

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Role: Striker

Class/Level: Thief/19

(Sha) Verlas the White Priest

"May Pelor's light be with you"

Steven

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Role: Leader

Class/Level: Cleric (Templar)/Shaman/4

Description:

Background:

On the mid-day before the winter solstice, Corvan, a former Commander in the Knight Hospitalerâ€™s and his wife Maravanna, once a priestess of Corellon Larethain, were working in the fields with their children when they saw a white wolf emerge from the edge of the forest. The wolf barked at them as if beckoning them to follow him, and then disappeared back into the forest. Corvan grabbed his shovel for protection and told his wife and children to wait there for him until he returned, he then followed the direction the wolf disappeared at. Upon entering the forest, he heard more barking and followed the sound. Upon following the sounds, he came across a white wolf that laid dead, shot with an arrow, and next to the wolf was a human toddler around the age of 3 or so. He looked around for the childâ€™s parent but found none, so he took the child back with him. He and his family took the child in and named him Shaâ€™Verlas.

Over the yearâ€™s Verlas got older he was taught the ways of the land and how help out with the daily work as best as he could. One day the farm and surrounding farms were brutally attacked by a massive goblin raiding party, very few farmers survived that raid. Verlas was one of the few survivors from that raid, but none of his adopted family survived. He was found by a member of the Knight Hospitalerâ€™s who were sent out to help any survivors. Since he had no family left, he was taken to a temple of Pelor and left there as a ward of the church. Verlas never forgot his foster family nor the knightâ€™s who graciously helped him after the raid. He found the teachings of Pelor to be one he could follow and devote his life to. When he was old enough, he joined the Order of Hospitalerâ€™s in order to learn more how he could help those in need, as was shown to him in the past.

He has spent many years on the frontier lines in service of the Hospitalerâ€™s, most of his time was spent helping elven villages and various farming villages. He devoted his life in service of Pelor and to preservation of life and helping in those in need of his help.

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