Anyone play D&D?

[D-Bee 3,448]

We're going to need some kind of dice roller so we can all see the results. I think that there are online character sheets that are used for public games also. I don't care if stats are re-rolled a few times though - but other than that we should be as legit as possible.

Here's this:   http://dnd3rd.sourceforge.net/

[+Dr. Obvious 14,606]

Oh, and... starting level?

[Nano 7,892]

Thanks for the town description. Really enjoying the creation of my back story.

[fever 9,884]

Excellent DB., thanks

 

Is the place you described based on Telluride?

[+Skaila 5,462]

Aw dammit, Skaila's already got the werewolf-ism...

Can I be a rouge then? I love rogues :3

 

There can't be two? >>

[+Dr. Obvious 14,606]

There can't be two? >>

Only if i can get out the silver stakes for all of you.

In case you haven't noticed: usually, werewolves are the enemies to be slain in this version of the game...

[+Skaila 5,462]

Anyone want to be turned? I'm gonna go "Can I bite you?" all the time now xD

Regardless, since I'm a noob, I'm gonna keep it simple. No werewolf, I think I may end up completely confused, or impale myself with silver

 

But my services to bite people are still valid

[BloodRedWidow 3,508]

Anyone want to be turned? I'm gonna go "Can I bite you?" all the time now xD

Regardless, since I'm a noob, I'm gonna keep it simple. No werewolf, I think I may end up completely confused, or impale myself with silver

 

But my services to bite people are still valid

Me! mememememememememe!

EDIT: I typed that out before I finished reading your post... I'm sowwi....

So I've never done a char creation thing before. How long does it have to be?

Edited August 20, 2014 by BloodRedWidow

[+Skaila 5,462]

You want to be bitten? That can be arranged >> xD

 

I've got Obvi helping me with it >> Human Ranger Hunter so far, now just the rest of stuff

I think

[BloodRedWidow 3,508]

You want to be bitten? That can be arranged >> xD

 

I've got Obvi helping me with it >> Human Ranger Hunter so far, now just the rest of stuff

I think

Help me with mine? :3

And you... want to bite me?

I don't taste nice I'm afraid =[

[D-Bee 3,448]

Oh, and... starting level?

We are going to start at level 1. Noob level! 

 

Thanks for the town description. Really enjoying the creation of my back story.

No problem! It's good to have a background because it makes roleplaying your character easier and more fun. It also makes you care more about your character! I don't want anyone running into a dark cave without a healthy dose of fear.

 

Excellent DB., thanks

 

Is the place you described based on Telluride?

Telluride is basically Skyrim which is basically D&D, so yeah...it'll be easy to describe and keep consistent if we've been away for awhile. 

 

Anyone want to be turned? I'm gonna go "Can I bite you?" all the time now xD

Regardless, since I'm a noob, I'm gonna keep it simple. No werewolf, I think I may end up completely confused, or impale myself with silver

 

But my services to bite people are still valid

I'm glad you changed your mind. Werewolves are cool, and I love monsters, but you have to realize that almost all of the NPC's in this game will automatically think that you're there to kill them! The way that the town is set up you could be whatever you want to be and no one would care (you'd be surprised at some of the secrets these people have) but some character classes are going to be more trouble than they are worth. Example: Vampires are cool, but you'd be limiting the entire party to night time activity AND making everyone think that you're ALL vampires. 

Help me with mine? :3

And you... want to bite me?

I don't taste nice I'm afraid =[

If you need help or get stuck just ask. It'll be good to have questions answered here so it helps everyone.

 

The most important part of creating a character is simply knowing who they are. Why would a fighter have "craft wicker basket" as a skill? Well, maybe she came from a poor family that made and sold wicker baskets in order to survive and helped out as a child. See what I'm saying? Stuff like that helps give your character a believable history and makes them seem like they could be real people.

 

The rules part is easy, just follow the directions in the Player's Handbook and ask questions if you get stuck.

 

Oh! Please, please, keep in mind that your characters will NOT be average in any way! People just walking around (NPC's / non-player character) will have stats around 5-7 and 1-4 hit points, so don't be overly concerned with how powerful your character is - they'll become powerful if you survive!

[+Skaila 5,462]

Btw do we have to post something like stats or not yet? I assume subforum first? >>

 

P.S. Widow, I'll help tomorrow? I'll grab Obvi as well xD

[Nano 7,892]

Wrote this up on my lunch today. Not book quality by any means with poor transitions and different tenses - but I think it serves it's purpose to give my character some flavor.

@skaila: Sub forum won't be happening until after the clan changes go into effect. I suppose we could cheat in the meantime and move this thread to one of the abandoned "other games" sub forums. What do people think of that?

My backstory:

1st draft.

True Neutral.

Traits: Enigmatic. Distant. Diplomatic. Self-reliant. Mediatory. Even-handed. Fair. Indifferent. Impartial.

Tal took a bite of his breakfast apple then spit it into the coals with a disgusted look as he stoked the flames of the forge that he now called his own. As Tal went about his normal routine, a routine as comfortable as falling asleep in bed, he allowed his mind to wander as he often did. The thump thump of the billows and the whoosh of flames had a calming effect on the burly man with a barrel chest and arms the size of tree trunks. Tal has just become the youngest blacksmith in Otorno’s history and his thoughts quickly turned as sour as the apple he had been eating while he mused over the events of the past week. The previous town blacksmith, Harper, was an ill-tempered man who lost his wife Elena to a house fire 15 years ago. Harper had once been genial, and open-hearted. A man with a strong devotion to his loving wife, but the fire had since changed him – and it had not been for the better. For the next 15 years he’d spent his time brooding: split between drinking to drown out the screams that still haunted his dreams at night and imaging perverse ways that he might join her. Using his finest blade he had finally succeeded in reuniting with Elena in the afterlife.

It had not always been this way, this dismal. Tal still remembered the days when the blacksmith had been renown across the land for his workmanship. Nobles used to come from far off to their village just to custom-order his steel. It was well known that he could have moved to the city and made his fortune, but he had always dismissed these comments as too lofty and above his place. “I am but a simple blacksmith” he would say, “my work is my work and I shall share it with anyone who comes to me – no matter the size of their purse.” Over the years as his drinking increased, and quality of his metal began to deteriorate. In time, the nobles no longer made the trip to the sleepy little town and Harper’s reputation turned to one of laziness and indifference. In fact, the only reason the town still had horseshoes for their horses, and axles for their carts was because of his apprentice, Talbor, who was known around town simply as “Tal.” Although the quality of the steel from the smithy had begun to finally improve in the last few years of Harper’s life, the damage to his reputation had been done.

Tal became an apprentice to the blacksmith at the age of five. Elena had taken the boy in after his mother had died. It was only three years after he was adopted that Elena had passed away in the fire. Tal still remembered the day vividly, as though it had been burned into his heart and his mind. Harper and he were walking home and looking forward to a warm meal to fill their bellies when they had noticed smoke rising in the distance. Harper was off before Tal even registered what had happened before breaking into a sprint himself - chasing after the burly man. Tal was no runt. Even at eight, he was a sinewy mass of muscle and energy. His skin was heavily tanned from the sun and rough from his time at the forge. As fast as he was, he had no chance of catching Harper who hadn’t even looked back. When he came upon the house minutes later and out of breath, his head swirled in dizziness from the exertion. It was a horrible sight. Licks of flame billowed out of the windows and through the thatch roof. The heat was so intense that although he was 30 feet away he could get no closer. He heard a low moan and realized that Harper was nowhere around. Then he saw it. A dark mass in the doorway. Grabbing a blanket that was hanging to dry he wrapped it around himself and raced towards the inferno – holding his breath against the hot air that ripped at his lungs. He grabbed Harper and pulled – moving the huge mass of a man only a few inches. Frantic, he struggled with all of his might to drag the closest thing to a father Tal had ever had. He struggled, every muscle in his body burning, every breath more painful than the last refusing to let go. Inch by inch, he stumbled to the base of the ancient apple tree in front of the home before everything went black.

The forge was warmer now and he went over to the charcoal logs still in the shape of their original branches and began to break them apart into pieces the size of his fist so they could be added to the fire. While the loss of Elena was a day he wished he could forget, his own history was shrouded in a darkness he could not penetrate. He hadn’t always been a part of this town. As his pile of perfectly sized charcoal began to grow, he thought back to another sad day in his life – the death of his mother.

He didn’t remember much, but he was told that 18 years ago a woman dressed in rags that were made of fine silk had stumbled into town from the forest delirious from fever and with Tal in tow - finally collapsing in the town square. She was immediately taken to the herbalist – but died within the hour. With no money, no jewelry (except a single un-adorned silver ring which Tal kept around his neck in a crude necklace he had made as an apprentice), and no belongings - everyone assumed that she had been the wife of a bandit who had died in the forest.

Elena had been visiting the herbalist for bark of the willow when Tal’s mother had been brought in. She assisted however she could rummaging through bottles on the shelf that had various names such as witch root, essence of lavender, and peppermint leaf. The herbalist, an ancient woman with yellowing teeth and a face so wrinkled you could hardly see her bright blue eyes sighed heavily and took a cold rag from the brow of the woman laying on her table. Saying a prayer in soft, whispered tones, she looked up at the boy sitting next to the bed, “I’m sorry m’dear – but your mother has left this world and will return to the soil from whence we all come.” She then closed the woman’s eyes and shuffled away solemnly. Elena had always yearned for a son but none of the gods had been able to grant her wish. Elena’s heart filled with sadness as she looked upon the boy. Tal was wearing a disgusting rag that may have once been a simple leather shirt and pants and had no shoes on his feet. His body held the grime of a thousand mile trip and his face was tough and as leathery as his clothes.

Elena knelt down by Tal and embraced him in her arms. Weeping she told the boy it would okay. To stop crying. That everything would be alright. She pulled back from him only to startle. He wasn’t crying. He stared at the still-warm corpse of his mother passionless and made no sound. He stayed that way all through the night and all through the next day, refusing to leave her side until he finally passed out from exhaustion.

Harper had no choice when he saw his wife come home with the boy. The joy he saw in her eyes was one he had not seen in years and he was glad for some help in the smithy. From that day on, they both loved the boy as their own.

Filling the wooden buckets with charcoal, Tal walked back to the forge and began to add more fuel to the fire, stoking it as he did so. This shop was his now and he’d make the best of it. In his short periods of soberness over the years, Harper had shown Tal everything he had ever known. It had actually been years since Harper had even touched the forge, although the townsfolk did not know that. He wasn’t sure what the future held. He was 23 and in prime physical condition. He had no shortage of women from town that were happy to “stoke his fire” and yet he found himself reluctant to ever let it go farther, to ever be tied down or be responsible for another. No, it was easier to rely on yourself. To make your own calls and do whatever it took to get the job done. He’d seen the cruelty of the world and he knew that the only person he could ever rely on – was himself.

[D-Bee 3,448]

Wrote this up on my lunch today. Not book quality by any means with poor transitions and different tenses - but I think it serves it's purpose to give my character some flavor.

@skaila: Sub forum won't be happening until after the clan changes go into effect. I suppose we could cheat in the meantime and move this thread to one of the abandoned "other games" sub forums. What do people think of that?

My backstory:

1st draft.

True Neutral.

Traits: Enigmatic. Distant. Diplomatic. Self-reliant. Mediatory. Even-handed. Fair. Indifferent. Impartial.

Tal took a bite of his breakfast apple then spit it into the coals with a disgusted look as he stoked the flames of the forge that he now called his own. As Tal went about his normal routine, a routine as comfortable as falling asleep in bed, he allowed his mind to wander as he often did. The thump thump of the billows and the whoosh of flames had a calming effect on the burly man with a barrel chest and arms the size of tree trunks. Tal has just become the youngest blacksmith in Otorno’s history and his thoughts quickly turned as sour as the apple he had been eating while he mused over the events of the past week. The previous town blacksmith, Harper, was an ill-tempered man who lost his wife Elena to a house fire 15 years ago. Harper had once been genial, and open-hearted. A man with a strong devotion to his loving wife, but the fire had since changed him – and it had not been for the better. For the next 15 years he’d spent his time brooding: split between drinking to drown out the screams that still haunted his dreams at night and imaging perverse ways that he might join her. Using his finest blade he had finally succeeded in reuniting with Elena in the afterlife.

It had not always been this way, this dismal. Tal still remembered the days when the blacksmith had been renown across the land for his workmanship. Nobles used to come from far off to their village just to custom-order his steel. It was well known that he could have moved to the city and made his fortune, but he had always dismissed these comments as too lofty and above his place. “I am but a simple blacksmith†he would say, “my work is my work and I shall share it with anyone who comes to me – no matter the size of their purse.†Over the years as his drinking increased, and quality of his metal began to deteriorate. In time, the nobles no longer made the trip to the sleepy little town and Harper’s reputation turned to one of laziness and indifference. In fact, the only reason the town still had horseshoes for their horses, and axles for their carts was because of his apprentice, Talbor, who was known around town simply as “Tal.†Although the quality of the steel from the smithy had begun to finally improve in the last few years of Harper’s life, the damage to his reputation had been done.

Tal became an apprentice to the blacksmith at the age of five. Elena had taken the boy in after his mother had died. It was only three years after he was adopted that Elena had passed away in the fire. Tal still remembered the day vividly, as though it had been burned into his heart and his mind. Harper and he were walking home and looking forward to a warm meal to fill their bellies when they had noticed smoke rising in the distance. Harper was off before Tal even registered what had happened before breaking into a sprint himself - chasing after the burly man. Tal was no runt. Even at eight, he was a sinewy mass of muscle and energy. His skin was heavily tanned from the sun and rough from his time at the forge. As fast as he was, he had no chance of catching Harper who hadn’t even looked back. When he came upon the house minutes later and out of breath, his head swirled in dizziness from the exertion. It was a horrible sight. Licks of flame billowed out of the windows and through the thatch roof. The heat was so intense that although he was 30 feet away he could get no closer. He heard a low moan and realized that Harper was nowhere around. Then he saw it. A dark mass in the doorway. Grabbing a blanket that was hanging to dry he wrapped it around himself and raced towards the inferno – holding his breath against the hot air that ripped at his lungs. He grabbed Harper and pulled – moving the huge mass of a man only a few inches. Frantic, he struggled with all of his might to drag the closest thing to a father Tal had ever had. He struggled, every muscle in his body burning, every breath more painful than the last refusing to let go. Inch by inch, he stumbled to the base of the ancient apple tree in front of the home before everything went black.

The forge was warmer now and he went over to the charcoal logs still in the shape of their original branches and began to break them apart into pieces the size of his fist so they could be added to the fire. While the loss of Elena was a day he wished he could forget, his own history was shrouded in a darkness he could not penetrate. He hadn’t always been a part of this town. As his pile of perfectly sized charcoal began to grow, he thought back to another sad day in his life – the death of his mother.

He didn’t remember much, but he was told that 18 years ago a woman dressed in rags that were made of fine silk had stumbled into town from the forest delirious from fever and with Tal in tow - finally collapsing in the town square. She was immediately taken to the herbalist – but died within the hour. With no money, no jewelry (except a single un-adorned silver ring which Tal kept around his neck in a crude necklace he had made as an apprentice), and no belongings - everyone assumed that she had been the wife of a bandit who had died in the forest.

Elena had been visiting the herbalist for bark of the willow when Tal’s mother had been brought in. She assisted however she could rummaging through bottles on the shelf that had various names such as witch root, essence of lavender, and peppermint leaf. The herbalist, an ancient woman with yellowing teeth and a face so wrinkled you could hardly see her bright blue eyes sighed heavily and took a cold rag from the brow of the woman laying on her table. Saying a prayer in soft, whispered tones, she looked up at the boy sitting next to the bed, “I’m sorry m’dear – but your mother has left this world and will return to the soil from whence we all come.†She then closed the woman’s eyes and shuffled away solemnly. Elena had always yearned for a son but none of the gods had been able to grant her wish. Elena’s heart filled with sadness as she looked upon the boy. Tal was wearing a disgusting rag that may have once been a simple leather shirt and pants and had no shoes on his feet. His body held the grime of a thousand mile trip and his face was tough and as leathery as his clothes.

Elena knelt down by Tal and embraced him in her arms. Weeping she told the boy it would okay. To stop crying. That everything would be alright. She pulled back from him only to startle. He wasn’t crying. He stared at the still-warm corpse of his mother passionless and made no sound. He stayed that way all through the night and all through the next day, refusing to leave her side until he finally passed out from exhaustion.

Harper had no choice when he saw his wife come home with the boy. The joy he saw in her eyes was one he had not seen in years and he was glad for some help in the smithy. From that day on, they both loved the boy as their own.

Filling the wooden buckets with charcoal, Tal walked back to the forge and began to add more fuel to the fire, stoking it as he did so. This shop was his now and he’d make the best of it. In his short periods of soberness over the years, Harper had shown Tal everything he had ever known. It had actually been years since Harper had even touched the forge, although the townsfolk did not know that. He wasn’t sure what the future held. He was 23 and in prime physical condition. He had no shortage of women from town that were happy to “stoke his fire†and yet he found himself reluctant to ever let it go farther, to ever be tied down or be responsible for another. No, it was easier to rely on yourself. To make your own calls and do whatever it took to get the job done. He’d seen the cruelty of the world and he knew that the only person he could ever rely on – was himself.

I think moving this thread is a good idea.

 

Let's send character information straight to me in the form of (an icebucket!) a message from now on. Nano I'm glad you put this in spoilers and I hope that not everybody read this. Even though I plan on starting the group out as friends, there will be things that you keep secret or just don't want to talk about right away. It's always fun when when these "little secrets" pop up later. Example: "Why is Karg the barabarian such a good dancer?"  "You didn't know? They taught him to dance when he was a slave in Thay." "Holy shit! Now it makes sense why he hates slavery so much!"

[+Dr. Obvious 14,606]

I think moving this thread is a good idea.

 

Let's send character information straight to me in the form of (an icebucket!) a message from now on. Nano I'm glad you put this in spoilers and I hope that not everybody read this. Even though I plan on starting the group out as friends, there will be things that you keep secret or just don't want to talk about right away. It's always fun when when these "little secrets" pop up later. Example: "Why is Karg the barabarian such a good dancer?"  "You didn't know? They taught him to dance when he was a slave in Thay." "Holy shit! Now it makes sense why he hates slavery so much!"

Thank for the image of a barbarian in a pink tutu, that just showed up in my mind.

[D-Bee 3,448]

Thank for the image of a barbarian in a pink tutu, that just showed up in my mind.

It's my job to place images in your mind...as disturbing a prospect as that may be.

[+Dr. Obvious 14,606]

It's my job to place images in your mind...as disturbing a prospect as that may be.

Oy, i had a laugh, so no problems here.

I've had way worse things in my mind. A barbarian dancing swan lake isn't disturbing. ^^

[--- 691]

10+ years experience running and playing multiple tabletops. I've seen some shit, man.

 

Mage: The Awakening is by far my favorite, though. Followed by the other WoD splats and Pathfinder.

[BloodRedWidow 3,508]

Kay. I'm gonna have a go at writing my own now that I've seen an example.

Wish me luck! =]

[+Skaila 5,462]

Out of curiosity, how is this played? I mean the basic mechanics? We each create a character and we react as that character in real time?

 

I'm familiar with role playing, but that was forum roleplaying xD Basically writing etc and then the next person writes and it creates a coherent story, but no idea how this is done >>

[D-Bee 3,448]

You guys aren't expected to write a book, or even a short story. Nano went over the top (movie reference!) with his history and I don't want you guys to think that you need to send me a detailed recounting of your characters entire life. If you do, then great! But you don't have to take it that far.

 

Here's an example of the minimum expectation:

 

 

Male Fighter.

 

Name: Jeb Gilden

Height: 1.83 meters

Weight: 113 kilograms

Hair: black

Eyes: brown

Physical Description: Jeb is a tall, heavily muscled man with a dark complexion and a smoldering stare. He would be considered beautiful if it weren't for a large, deep scar running from his left cheek to mid-neck and his barely contained anger.

 

Alignment: Lawful Evil

 

Raised in a bustling town in Dagger Dale by a Watch Captain and his loving wife, Jeb was taught at an early age to fight, read and write, and respect intelligence above all things. He had many friends and was well liked by just about everyone. His parents loved him, and life was beautiful. One day one of the town councilman came and told his father to kill the mayor. His father refused, and Jeb's mother was kidnapped. His father ended up killing the mayor and being executed for the crime, and his mother was never seen again. Jeb joined a street gang for a few years as an enforcer (age 14 - 18) and during this time his view of the world solidified. The weak are dominated by the strong and powerful, so the point of living is to gain power so that you may never have to be the victim. Jeb now leads a sad, lonely life of brutality against anyone who threatens him.

[Se7en 10,762]

Is it dicks & damsels?

[D-Bee 3,448]

Out of curiosity, how is this played? I mean the basic mechanics? We each create a character and we react as that character in real time?

 

I'm familiar with role playing, but that was forum roleplaying xD Basically writing etc and then the next person writes and it creates a coherent story, but no idea how this is done >>

Here's something from Reddit about roleplaying

 

Hi Reddit, I have been playing Dungeons and Dragons for about half a year now and I thought I would share some of the better tips I have heard for improving your role play skills.

1. Stay engaged no matter what, you are pretending to be someone else and just because you wouldn't find something interesting doesn't mean your character wouldn't. Make sure you interact with your fellow party members, talk to npcs, and make note of all the little things your character would actually be doing. As an example don't just say you set up camp, actually go through the motions involved in doing so you don't have to do it every time but try it at least once for the experience.

2. Take a psych test in character, not the ones that are multiple choice but the moral and ethical question ones like "You see a shop keeper being intimidated by the city guard?" You will find thinking about these kind of scenarios in character outside of play sessions will help you react quicker and more in character when such moral quandaries show up in the game.

3. Give what your character says context don't just "How are you today." smile as you say it add an excited tone of voice reveal the kind of person your character is by showing us the kind of emotion they put behind their words.

4. The DM doesn't need to be there for you to role play, when the DM isn't around take the opportunity to talk in character. Share back story, discuss recent events, or better yet just try shooting the shit in character.

5. Remember it is and isn't a game. We play to have fun but at the same time you're not. The best role playing is done when for brief amount of time you become another person, who is really going through these experiences and you will start taking what happens very seriously because what happens matters a lot to the person you are trying to be.

Hopefully this helps you as much as it has helped me.

The actual game mechanics will come into play any time your success or failure changes the story. Examples include: jumping over a chasm, climbing a tree to escape a pack of wolves, smelling poison in your drink, trying to hit a bad guy with a weapon, hearing someone sneaking up on you, dodging an attack, and many others...

 

Typically, it's character roleplaying in real time which gets interrupted by dice rolls to determine the outcome of an action.

[Nano 7,892]

Hoping to upload my character sheet tonight

[BloodRedWidow 3,508]

I've done a 1st draft =D

But it needs editing.

Can I post my backstory over the weekend? :3