Now Shanks will move onward to the probably trapped treasure chest... Actually Shanks will throw a dagger at the chest before opening it just to be safe Shanks can never be too careful!
Name - Shanks The Monsters
Background - Shanks is a Kobold. Someone told Shanks he could find dosh here Shanks likes dosh thus Shanks is now here.
Statistics
Skill-at-arms - 2
Brawn - 1
Focus - 1
Conviction - 1
Wounds: 0
Arcana: 0
Inventory and Equipment
Right Hand - Dagger (one-handed, 0.5 wound, deathblow)
Left Hand - Dagger (one-handed, 0.5 wound, deathblow)
Armor - Simple Clothes
Trinket -
Perks: 0 Point Remaining
(3) Caravan Hand Time spent working for a trade company has taught you a number of valuable lessons. You receive +1 to rolls when price haggling, looting, and foraging.
(1) Acrobat You are particularly adept at climbing, jumping, vaulting, and clambering. The first time in a turn a 1 is rolled for any such feat, it is instead rerolled.
(3) Silent The footsteps of a cat and the breathing of a mouse; in all things, you are quiet as a ghost. Enemies will never hear your movement, and have disadvantage on rolls to detect you.
(1) Quick Hands You may switch your equipped Right and Left Hand items, even while in combat.
Spells:
The dagger bounces off the chest, producing both the normal thud of metal on wood as well as the less audible click of some hidden mechanism. A panel of the wall slides down into the ground, revealing a passage behind the chest that leads to another staircase. It seems this is the way up to the third floor. Opening the chest reveals something interesting - a small piece of paper is all that occupies its roomy interior. Glowing runes pulse with a soft yellow light from the page's surface.Roll
Focus:
2+1-2 =
1Shanks has absolutely no clue what these runes mean."I can try, though I don't have any practice. It just runs in my family. I'll give it a shot."
Quickly strip the rings off and see if I can figure out what they do and how to use them.
Name: Meleria
Background: This teenage Foxkin really has no buisness being in the Tower, though she doesn't see things that way. She sees it as being about what she needs. Either she succeeds here, or she has no future, so she might as well try.
Meleria's a Foxkin, a type of beastkin, and a minority that is commonly viewed as subhuman. Her family worked as peddlers, performing odd jobs from place to place, and living a mostly self-sufficient life. Never staying in one place overlong, so no one place was ever motivated to actively drive them off. Of course, that means when their wagon was attacked on the road, there was nobody to look for them. Nobody to provide the urgent medical aid they needed. Nobody to make sure that when Meleria crept back to the wagon from her hiding spot she'd run too during the attack, she wasn't alone.
lacking the skills to repair her family's wagon, she had to leave both it and her family's remains behind, limiting herself to what she could carry on her back. She found herself in the city of the Tower, and also found herself with a choice. She didn't have the right skills to make a proper living in the city, and to her mind attempting to find someone to take her in would just result in her becoming enslaved. But the Tower represented an option she wouldn't have anywhere else. A risky option for sure, but... What's she got to lose?
Description: This small female Foxkin has tan skin, brown shoulder-length hair, green eyes, and orange-brown furred ears and tail. She has slight build and a nervous but focused demeanor, her eyes and ears flicking about in reaction to slight noises. She has a habit of holding her own tail when anxious, and when resting tends to curl up with it in her arms.
Statistics
Skill-at-arms: 0
Brawn: 1
Focus: 2
Conviction: 2
Wounds: 0
Arcana: 0
Inventory and Equipment
Right Hand:
Left Hand:
Armor: Simple Clothes
Trinkets:
Perks
Acrobat (1): You are particularly adept at climbing, jumping, vaulting, and clambering. The first time in a turn a 1 is rolled for any such feat, it is instead rerolled.
Attuned (6): You are aware of the ebb and flow of the world's arcane current, and have the potential to tap into it. You may cast spells.
1 Unspent perk point
Spells
None
Protect Meleria by whatever means prove necessary.
"Makhios, I am not afraid."
Name - Isolde
Background - Gutter trash, no doubt. Certainly uncultured.
Description - Some sort of strange cat-human hybrid. Crimson eyes.
Statistics
Skill-at-arms - 0
Brawn - 1
Focus - 1
Conviction - 3
Wounds - 0
Arcana - -1
Inventory and Equipment
Right Hand -
Left Hand -
Armor -
Trinket -
Perks
Prophetic (6) - What the future holds is not entirely unknown to you. Voices, dreams, and symbols reveal glimpses of what is to come, either spontaneously or after purposeful divination.
Spells
Meleria scrambles forwards and expediently wrenches the rings from the hand.Roll
Focus:
3+2-1 =
4One of the rings seems fairly standard, but the second... as Meleria clutches it, she feels an almost uncomfortable warmth emanate from it, spreading through her palm and up her arm. Putting the ring on, she is quickly able to attune herself to it - time seems to slow down as her mind is occupied by a single image. Despite the chaos of the fight around her, Meleria is focused on the crackling of flame, the shimmering distortion of hot air, the smell of smoke. As the thoughts grow more real, reality shapes itself likewise - a small flame twirls and dances in Meleria's hand. As her attention returns to the ring, she finds it now inert - the magic no longer resides within the trinket, but within her.New Spell: Immolate (0.5 Arcana, 0.5 Wound,
ranged, can ignite enemies for continuous damage)
Meleria's momentary stupor leaves her open to an attack as the newest ghoul hurls itself at her. Roll
Skill-at-arms:
6The ghoul's pounce is stopped suddenly as it's knocked out of the air by Isolde. The two collide, and the ghoul is sent careening into one of its fellows, bringing both down in a tangle of wiry limbs. Isolde, however, manages to steady herself with relative ease. ...
Trip the ghoul who attacked Xing Xing. Break the knee.
Name - Xing Xing
Background - An orphan to the Tower, taken in by the temple, and trained to deliver justice upon evil. The Friar has trained her in hopes of great gifts without the need to go in themselves.
Description - Black hair with a single braid down her black, her monkly robes are bereft of ormenintation. Her grey eyes are blinded by her faith, and her will is sharpened to the breaking point.
Statistics
Skill-at-arms - 0
Brawn - 2
Focus - 0
Conviction - 3
Wounds
0.25/3
Inventory and Equipment
Right Hand - Staff
Left Hand - [Two-Handed]
Armor -
Trinket -
Perks: 1 Point Remaining
Devout - With every crushing blow, a whispered prayer. Attacks with any weapon are rolled with Conviction rather than Skill-at-arms.
Hardy - You are particularly resilient. Advantage to rolls against poisons and diseases.
Spells:
Debts
Staff (two-handed, 0.5 wound): 0/40 Crowns
Roll
Conviction:
1,
5+3-2 =
6With the ghoul already splayed out on the ground after Isolde's timely intervention, Xing Xing has little trouble snapping its knee. The creature writhes about on the ground, hissing and lashing out ineffectively with its claws. Xing Xing finishes by planting the base of her staff in the creature's skull, ending its writhing for good. One step closer to the purification of this vile place. As Xing Xing gazes down at the defeated creature, she cannot help but feel invigorated. Something about this bloody work is undeniably refreshing."Hmph, fuckers always travel in packs. Go figure." the old merc' spits to the side then moves to the ghouls flank to strike the back of its neck with his cudgel.
Name: Siegrid, the MercenaryBackground: Nothing of interest can be said for Siegrid's origins, his tale is anything but glorious and better left kept to himself with the rest of the horrors that war inflicts on the mind. To him the sword is a means to an end, and he has known nothing else in all his life. He works not to have a vast wealth nor the glory of combat, it is about getting the job done. Finished his contract working for a trade company operating within the Empire, Siegrid set his eyes on the tower as a means of employment. He'd offer his blade to those also braving the Tower.Description: Siegrid is a tired looking man, with short black hair and a close shaved beard touched by the greying of age. Possessing a stocky build and broad shoulders, even in his middle age he looks fit as he did in the service. His eyes are keen even if they look darkened by sleeplessness.Wounds + 0 // Arcana - 1
Statistics2 -
Skill-At-Arms1 -
Brawn1 -
Focus1 -
ConvictionInventory/Equipment(L) Hand-
Cudgel(R) Hand-
Armor-
Simple Clothing-
Padded LeatherTrinkets-
Perks- (4) Soldier You are endowed with a measure of battlefield experience. Your first roll in each combat is made with advantage if you fight with at least 1 ally in sight. Additionally, you may wear heavy armor.
- (3) Caravan Hand Time spent working for a trade company has taught you a number of valuable lessons. You receive +1 to rolls when price haggling, looting, and foraging.
- (1) Acrobat You are particularly adept at climbing, jumping, vaulting, and clambering. The first time in a turn a 1 is rolled for any such feat, it is instead rerolled.
Spells
Roll
Skill-at-arms:
3,
6+2-1 =
7Siegrid slips behind the other injured ghoul before bringing his club down on its neck. This time, the creature fails to block his blow, and it collapses in a burbling heap as its spine fractures under the well-placed strike. Siegrid issues a quick coup-de-grace to the downed beast, caving in its skull with a final strike. Vague memories of his soldiering years unveil themselves again... Siegrid begins to remember the thrill of the fight, the excitement of staking his life on every fight - and he remembers that he was damn good at it, too.Perk gained!
Skullcrusher - If an attack with a one-handed mace, cudgel, club, or hammer would leave an enemy 0.5 Wounds or fewer from death, they are instead killed by that attack
Name - Arek the Butcher
Background - A desperate man with nowhere else to turn. A orphan who never knew his parents, Arek was often discriminated against because of his, ah, unique appearance. He learned at a young age that he could only really rely on one person, himself.
Born with a innate affinity for the Arcane, Arek was quick to pick up magic from observing traveling wizards and whatever he could pick up from what he read in stolen books. The resentment he had of his situation grew, and Arek quickly turned into a mage feared and reviled far and wide for his evil acts, having no qualms with sacrificing citizens for blood magic rituals or bargaining with demons for whatever scraps of power he could get.
Now well into the prime of his life, Incredible magical powers; valuable trinkets, plenty of servants and a town to terrorize for his amusement. Arek was living the life. There was just one problem.
People despised him. Arek was quite literally the stereotypical dark lord. It got to the point where the God’s had blessed a hero with the power to defeat him just to get people to stop whining about him. The hero stormed his castle, massacred the servants, and left Arek for dead.
But Arek had one last trick, he remembered reading about a magical tower others dare enter and figured it would be the perfect hiding place. Just one little problem… he collapsed right after he entered the tower and woke up fully healed with a bad case of Amnesia, forgetting all the spells he had learned.
Description - Arek was born mutated, possibly because of his affinity for mana. He would look like any normal human, were it not for the two jagged horns that extended from his skull and sharp red eyes, which had him labeled as a “demonspawn” which wasn’t helped by his strange habits and borderline sociopathic behavior.
Currently covered in a large red cloak inlaid with gold trim, offers him little to no armor but is quite stylish.
Statistics
Skill-at-arms - 0
Brawn - 2
Focus - 3
Conviction - 0
Wounds - 0
Arcana - 0
Inventory and Equipment:
Right Hand -
Left Hand -
Armor - Simple Clothing
Trinket -
Curative Charm (Active - The wearer may, at any time, gain 1 Arcana in order to remove 0.25 Wounds from themselves or any living target within arm's reach. Cannot be used at maximum Arcana.)
Pullification Charm (Active - The wearer may, at any time, gain 1 Arcana in order to exert an extreme amount of pulling force on any target within 30 feet. The force is strong enough to cause harm (0.75 Wound) when directly applied, and is not mitigated by armor. This effect may be spread among any number of targets, but its force is divided equally among these.)
Perks:
Attuned - You are aware of the ebb and flow of the world's arcane current, and have the potential to tap into it. You may cast spells.
Scholar (Magic) - You are well-versed in your field of study. Pick your domain of study - it can be anything from history to alchemy to philosophy - and record it here. You have advantage in rolls to recall knowledge of your specified field. Additionally, you are literate.
Spells: None
Arek, seeing the ghoul, has a sharp but sudden headache which gives him a idea. Arek tried to use if he can drag up any memory of a spell he can use to reanimate the dead ghoul friends.
Roll
HiddenArek tries delving into his memory. People, places, sounds and sights, all detached from one another... sifting through the mess that remains is like tunneling through sand. With each jumbled memory he tries to cast aside, another pours into its place. Only two things remain constant throughout - suffering... and desire. For the briefest of instants, Arek finds a glimpse of his former power hidden away - only long enough to sense something familiar. Someone or something from his past was unmistakably here.Acquire club for better Ghoul beating.
With the ghouls all either dispatched or incapacitated, Mu seizes the club on the ground.Cudgel (one-handed, 0.25 wound)
Finding its balance and weight satisfactory, Mu applies it to some well-deserved ghoul beating.3,
6+2-2 =
6The last ghoul is hardly able to shake itself from its stupor before it finds itself on the receiving end of Mu's new club. The creature's fangs are scattered across the room as Mu knocks its jaw out of place. A finishing blow dispatches the last ghoul, leaving the room silent and emptied of undead. The distant chittering of the pack fades away, followed by a clank from a hidden mechanism as doors on the north and south walls slam shut, blocked by heavy stone slabs. The eastern door leads back to the first room, while the western door leads to the unknown.Grab both magical quarterstaffs and Maille armor, unless armor prevents spellcasting. I also grab the pendant. If I can only get one thing, I grab the pendant.
The guard who's supervising Vaolu chuckles as he take both staves and the pendant.Roll
Focus:
4+3-2 =
5From just a moment's touch, Vaolu is able to somewhat identify the magics within each staff. One of them brings to mind the unmistakable coppery scent of blood, while the other is more abstract - Vaolu's skin prickles and a shiver runs down his spine as he rests his hand on it. He freezes up for a moment, only to be brought back to reality by the voice of the sneering guard.
"A loner wants all of this? I'm really not interested in having to strip all of this off of your corpse, assuming it isn't lost or destroyed. The pendant's simple enough, but two staves? Give me one good reason why you'd need BOTH of them and I might let you have 'em. Emphasis on might."
Seems like the guard's lending Vaolu an ear, for now.