Player Details

Player Name: Rayane

Age: 20

Gender/Pronoun: He/Him

Discord: SpicySpook#9417

A random thing about you: Med student in my 2nd year from Belgium, so you know
I have advantage on all chocolate/fries/beer related rolls. In my free time, I either
produce music, devour all the books I can get my hands on or RP with friends all
over the world. I'm quick with my wit and always have a stockpile of creativity ready
to be released from its containment. Aside from that, I'm pretty calm and thoughtful.

Playstyle: I tend to make very fleshed out characters that tell a story rather than
sticking to certain stereotypes but I'm not afraid to tap into familiar sentiments or
nostalgia to bring that oomph to a campaign. When discussing actual gameplay, I'm
at times rather calculating and planning, especially when it comes to combat as I like
to really crawl into my characters. The same goes for narrative RP. Those are my
time to shine as I can get really invested in the world and play as if I were the
character, navigating his or her surroundings.

Experience: I have 4ish years of RP'ing, mostly in MMO's such as WoW and Swtor
and the occasional campaign/one-shot. It's only in the past 6 months that I've been
participating in a long term campaign but it has certainly kindled my passion for it and
I've acquainted myself quite well with the game mechanics. On top of that, I have
written several short stories, both sci-fi and fantasy, so I'm not new to storybuilding.

Character Details

Name:
Calio Silversong AKA The Pauper Prince AKA Widowlayer

Age:
85 years old.
Preferred Pronouns:
He/Him
Tell me about your character:
Growing up as one of the only drow in Farbarrow certainly gave Calio quite a unique
childhood. On a dark, stormy night, a heavy knock was heard at the front door of The
Blue Garden, one of the more sophisticated brothels of the city. When the Madame
opened the door, there was no one to be seen. Except a little wicker basket put in
front of the threshold. When she lifted the cover, the crying of a babe echoed through
the foyer of the establishment. She hurriedly carried the basket inside to both shelter
it from the pouring rain and take a better look at its content.
Upon further inspection, she found a little elfling wrapped in a blanket of surprisingly
high quality make. And that wouldn't have been the strangest view if not for one
important detail. Instead of the usual fair skin tone, the baby had a dusky, almost
obsidian complexion. And in a surprise moment of matronly instinct, she decided to
keep the baby and raise it, vowing to take care of it as if it were her own.

And thus, Calio's story began. Due to his Elven heritage, he aged at a much slower
rate than the mostly human children in the neighborhood. But even in his early years,
it was clear to all who observed him that the child had an inquisitive and pensive
nature. Always roaming around the establishment, asking questions to the working
girls, playing with the guards who came to visit after their shifts and often browsing
through the many books Madame Klio had in her chambers. Klio used the money she
had set aside for emergency expenses to hire tutors and trainers for the boy, who
schooled him both in academic subjects as in the more martial forms of education.
When he was 30, he accidentally set a curtain on fire after throwing a fit over a lost
book. But curiously, there was nothing in the room that could have caused the flames
to spread all the way to the ceiling. And so it was discovered that Calio had an innate
talent for magic.

For the next decade, he would be trained intensively in the arcane arts. He would
devour any piece of literature on any subject that even hinted at magic. Often times
he would use his talents to fend off customers who broke the rules of the
establishment or protect one of the girls who worked there. One night, when the
establishment had closed for one of the city's holidays, he sang his adoptive mother
to sleep. His voice was so beautiful and mesmerizing, the girls gave him the
nickname "Silversong", as they often told him that his singing could warm even the
coldest heart of a noble. He embraced the name and soon began to receive requests
from wealthy citizens to perform at private parties and events. He quickly made a
reputation for himself in wealthy circles and would often be found enjoying the finest
aspects of high society. He would come to be a regular visitor to the district.
But every story has its tragedies. When he reached the age of 75, the jealous wife of
a nobleman who frequented The Blue Garden, arranged to have Klio killed. And lo,
on a rainy evening, much like the one when an innocent life was placed on a
doorstep, another was taken. Calio caught the assassin red-handed trying to escape.
And in a moment of rage and heartbreak, he unleashed his magic to its fullest, killing
the murderer almost instantly. Before his final breath left him, he revealed the name
of the client to Calio, who swore to become as powerful as he could be and enact his
revenge on the woman responsible for his mother's death.
In Klio's will, she transferred ownership of The Blue Garden over to him, along with
the coin she had saved over her life and the blanket he had been wrapped in as a
baby. Using the coin, he enrolled in an academy where he took on a formal training
in the arcane arts. He studied there for the next decade. After his graduation, he
bought voyage on one of the leaving trade ships, deciding to continue his quest for
power in other parts the world.

This is but one of the various ideas floating around in the ol' grey matter. So if
myself (*furious eye flutter*) or my character pique your curiosity, feel free to
Dimension Door into my inbox.
Name: Zariel Drakynos
Age: 28 years old
Gender: Male
Race: Aasimar 
Subrace: Protector Aasimar
Class: Warlock/Paladin
Subclass: Hexblade/Oath Of Conquest
Background: Knight Of The Order
Backstory: 
Zariel had been training since his earliest memory for this moment. All of his Aasimar
forefathers had sacrificed their life on their family's holy mission. It was only 5 years
ago that both his parents had tried to defeat their eternal foe, only for his mother to
return home on the brink of death, clutching his father's bloodied helmet. This only
strengthened his resolve to finally do what none of his bloodline had ever
accomplished, to slay the archfiend that had been corrupting and pillaging the lands
of the kingdom for centuries.

At the age of 23, he had completed his training. With zealous resolve and
accompanied by a small band of priests and knights the Baron had sent him with, he
set out to the Cave of Calamity, where his infernal foe would lie in wait.

Upon arrival, they carefully entered the cave, immediately smelling the scent of old,
dried blood and seeing many corpses in various states of decay littered across the
interior. Despite the horrendous view, Zariel pushed on, leading his troupe further
down the structure. When they finally reached the innermost chamber however, the
sight was not what he had expected. Instead of a terrifying fiend or hellish demon, he
instead found the Baron and a group of priests in the midst of sacrificing a young
maiden from one of the nearby villages. Before Zariel could demand what was going
on, the men and women that accompanied him all sprang on him, subduing him and
unarming him.
Helplessly, he was forced to watch as the Baron produced a large, wicked-looking
greatsword out of thin air and proceeded to plunge it in the young woman's chest.
When the fatal blow was struck, it almost seemed as if the girl's soul was ripped from
her flesh, being absorbed by the blade. It was then revealed to him that one of the
Baron's ancestors had made a pact with a fiend from the Abyss, offering wealth
beyond imagining if he and his descendants sacrificed the souls of those of celestial
heritage. It was then that a plan was devised, and the Drakios bloodline was picked as
a sacrificial lamb since they had the strongest remnants of celestial in their blood.
What happened next cannot be described in detail as the violence and carnage would
break the mind of even the cruelest soul. Suffice to say that in a fit of blinding fury
over the age-old deception, Zariel summoned all his holy might, and slaughtered
almost all of the Baron's minions in ways that defy even the mere concept of sanity. A
few managed to escape, though what they saw would hound their every living
moment for eternity. In a final showdown with the man that had been responsible for
his parents' death, blade clashed with blade as their battle spanned for hours. In the
end, Zariel managed to deliver the killing blow, obliterating any living remains of the
Baron in a blaze of holy fire.
Silence filled the cave, his mind almost broken as the realization that his entire life
was based on a lie nearly shattered him to the core. The infernal blade lay before him,
its former infernal essence having been drained once the Baron had been destroyed.
What was he to do? Go back and expose the lies, thereby ruining not only the memory
of all his ancestors, including his parents, but also destroying his siblings' lives? Kill
himself for the massacre he had committed? Just leave and risk someone else finding
the blade and restarting the cycle?
Thoughts racing, he spent hours screaming at the walls of the cave, praying to Pelor
for answers when it suddenly hit him. He walked over and picked up the now broken
shards of the blade. He removed the bloody remains of his armor and prayed through
the night, now filled with a cold, searing thirst for vengeance. Eventually, sleep
descended on him like a warm blanket. His dreams were filled with visions of stars
shining bright in an eternal void and a soft voice addressing him, before falling,
plummeting through the heavens and raining down on the wicked.
When the sun rose once more over the valley, he awoke and found an intricate
gauntlet in front of him. As soon as he put it on, a strange feeling came over him, and
almost on instinct he summoned a reforged version of the Baron’s blade out of thin
air. The blade, now possessed with unknown arcane power not unlike the power he
now felt inside himself, spoke to him, telling him of his new path. When he asked who
the voice was, a single word was whispered in his mind: "Stargazer".  He had come to
the conclusion that his former life as a champion of Pelor was over, and that he would
wield Stargazer to seek out the wicked and deliver cold, relentless judgement.
When he exited the cave, the warm rays of the sunrise heralded his rebirth as he
made his way to the port. Once there, he disguised himself and boarded a departing
vessel, leaving his family and his troubled past behind, letting the draw from the
blade guide his journey across the seas towards those who awaited his judgement.
Image: Zariel stands a towering 6'9. His long, silver hair is often tied back in a series
of intricate braids and knots. Even from afar, his celestial heritage can be seen clearly
as glowing, gold markings curl across his dark skin and when he goes into battle, a
flaming halo forms above him. When his golden eyes fall upon you, you can almost
feel your soul being laid bare in front of you, your every sin and misdeed burning with
shame and regret. He is usually clad in a dark plated armor with gold trimmings and
on his right hand he wears an intricate obsidian gauntlet etched with glowing runes. 
Stargazer
Weapon (greatsword), rare  (requires attunement)
Proficient:
Yes
Attack Type:
Melee
Reach:
5ft.
Damage:
2d6
2d6 While Radiant
Damage Type:
Slashing
Weight:
6lb.
Cost:
--
Properties:
Heavy, Two-Handed
You can use a bonus action to speak this magic sword's command word, causing astral fire to erupt
from the blade. These flames shed bright light in a 40-foot radius and dim light for an additional 40
feet. While the sword is ablaze, it deals an extra 2d6 radiant damage to any target it hits. The flames
last until you use a bonus action to speak the command word again or until you drop or sheathe the
sword. Activating the blade consumes one of its charges. When delivering the killing blows to a
creature of a fiendish nature, the blade regains one charge. The weapon has a maximum amount of 4
charges.

High-Quality Smoked Glass Goggles

Wondrous item, uncommon

Weight:
--
Cost:
50 GP
10 GP (for repairs)

These goggles completely eliminate the wearer's light sensitivity trait while worn. They do however
halve the range of darkvisionWhile wearing these dark lenses, you have darkvision out to a range of
60 feet. If you already have darkvision, wearing the goggles increases its range by 60 feet.

Wondrous Item, uncommon

While wearing these dark lenses, you have darkvision out to a range of 60 feet. If you already
have darkvision, wearing the goggles increases its range by 60 feet.

Notes: Sense: Darkvision, Detection, Eyewear

Fragile and finicky, but ideal.

Cost: as magnifying glass.
These goggles completely eliminate the wearer's light sensitivity trait while worn. Their
fragility lives in the plot, not the rules. They probably block darkvision, but the wearer can
just take them off for night uses.
Part 1, All About You:
What is your name/nickname or alias?:
People either call me Rayane (name) or Spicy (nickname)
What are your preferred pronouns?:
He/Him
How old are you?:
20 y/o
How much experience do you have with D&D5e?:
A solid 6 months of playing experience and another 1,5 years of viewing several
campaign streams. I'm well familiar with the mechanics and lore. 
How much experience do you have with roll20.net?:
Same as practical experience, 6 months of experience from a player's standpoint
What is your favorite class & why?:
My all-time favorite would have to be the Wizard, namely Bladesinger. Caster classes
have always been my favorite in any sort of RPG and the versatility that a wizard
offers with its expansive spell list really tickles that RP itch for me. Though the
combination of Hexblade Warlock and Conquest Paladin (which I'm applying for
here) seems very interesting to me and offers great RP possibilities that I would love
to explore.
What is your favorite race & why?:
I would have to say either Elves (namely Eladrin and Drow) or Aasimar. The Eladrin
and Drow really portray the classic Elf species with an original and exciting flavor
twist that gives both subraces its own plethora of possibilities for great RP. Mostly
due to the season change in the Eladrin and the often negative light Drow are viewed
in.

On the other hand, Aasimar have a special place in my heart. I'm a big fan of fantasy
involving the divine and religious themes so to have a being that has this spark of
divine essence can make for some very creative, fantastical characters.
What would your ideal magic item be?:
My magical item would be my pact blade. The idea of this Aasimar, disillusioned with
the world, roaming the land to enact cold judgement on the wicked with a sentient
blade to guide him already makes creative juices flow. I already have an item
description written for it but that can easily be altered or tweaked.
What kind of split do you enjoy in a game? What do you enjoy doing in a
game? (For example Roleplay 50%, combat 30%, party downtime/chatting 10%,
looting 10%):
For me, a solid 50-60% RP/20-30% Combat and some great party interaction make a
perfect campaign. I consider looting part of RP and Combat so it doesn't have to take
up a specific amount of time. I'm a big RP fan so obviously that's the main pull factor
for my playstyle but that doesn't mean that combat and party downtime don't offer
that as well. Often those can make for some of the most exciting RP moments in a
campaign.
What is your favorite animal?:
I'm a big dog/wolf lover, mostly bc a neighbour used to have one that I played with all
the time. So they will always hold a special place in my heart. And koalas are also
awesome bc of their chunky floofyness.
Why do you play D&D?:
Simple, bc I love storytelling. And to create an interactive, immersive story with a
group of people who all share that same drive/love is one of the best feelings there
are. To craft a narrative that isn't based around one character but instead flows with
the way the characters act, relate, feel offers a unique opportunity to not only make a
story feel organic and natural but also combines the best aspects of all sort of
fandom, whether it be fantasy, sci-fi, thrillers, etc.
Part 2, It's all about me:
Can you make the time? The game plays on Monday and Tuesday at 3:00pm
EST and runs for roughly 3-4 hours:
Those hours perfectly align with my schedule so that's already not an issue. I enjoy
sessions that take their time so 3-4 hours are excellent.
Describe the process you go through to create a character:
I almost always start by asking myself what kind of character I would like to play. A
mischievous trickster, a stoic roadman, a dramatic showman, etc. Then I go to which
classes and races I enjoy playing and find which profile would fit those characters
best, both from a RP standpoint and a gameplay standpoint. And then it's a matter of
flavoring them according to what I want to do with the character and where I see him
going down the line.
What is your availability during weekdays? Write your answer in EST or it's
useless to me.:
I'm free every weekday from 14:00 EST til 18:00-19:00 EST.
This is a long-term campaign. Are you able to play weekly for the foreseeable
future? What foreseeable risks might there be to this availability?:
I always invest time when participating in a campaign so I'm definitely able and willing
to play on a weekly basis for the forseeable future. The only possible "risks" I could
imagine would be if I were on vacation (though if the hotel has a stable internet
connection that shouldn't be a problem) or if there was some kind of
emergency/urgent matter that would come up last minute. But for the moment I don't
see those happening soon.
Do you like dogs?:
Oh yes, dogs are an absolute blessing. 
What questions do you have for me?:
- Are there any specific themes you're actively looking for or trying to avoid?
- Is there anything important I should know before joining, outside of lore?
In any case, I will add you on Discord and hopefully I will hear from you soon.
Arkan The Red
Arkan's story really begins at the age of 10, when he and his family were travelling through
the thick forests of the mainland, on their way to their Athel after his father had concluded
his business in one of the human cities. It was a dark and stormy night and the roads were
slick with mud. All went well until suddenly the coach briskly stopped, the coachman cursing
as the horses whinnied and reared. When Arkan looked out the window, he could see a body
lying right in the middle of the road, face down in the mud. Despite his parents’ warning, he
got out of the coach to see if the unknown individual needed help. But when he reached the
body, lightning flashed across the sky and in that brief moment of light, he saw that it was in
fact a dummy. As if on cue, robed and masked men jumped out of the surrounding foliage,
heavily outnumbering them. When he tried to run back to his family, something hit him in
the back of the head and unconsciousness overtook him.
When he woke up, he found himself bound to a stone tablet alongside his family members
and the coachman. With them in the room, the same robed and masked men who had
ambushed them earlier, but now in the middle of some sort of occult ritual. When they
noticed their prisoners had regained consciousness, they approached, and grabbed them one
by one, dragging them over to a pool of dark liquid in the center of the room. Crying and
panicked, Arkan asked what they wanted and why they were doing this. He got no response,
and instead was forced to watch as the cultist slit the coachman’s throat, letting his blood
flow into the pool. They went down the line, sacrificing the rest of his family before
ultimately, it was his turn.
But when the now dripping knife pressed against his throat, the door to the room suddenly
burst open as a gigantic, lupine form crashed through. The beast, black as the night, with
crimson eyes that burned like coals and strangely standing on its hind legs, tore into the
cultists, ripping them limb from limb. When the carnage was over, a now shocked Arkan
could not believe his eyes as the beast slowly shrunk into a humanoid form. Before him now
stood a burly, Elven man, covered in blood and guts. It was then that Arkan once more faded
into unconsciousness.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself clean and resting in a comfortable bed. Mere
moments later, the Elven man from before entered the room, bringing him a meal. Despite
the horror he had just experienced, Arkan couldn’t help but ravage the food, scarfing it down
as if he had never tasted anything like it. When nothing was left, he calmed down and the
man sat beside him. He explained that he belonged to an order of hunters who possessed the
blessing of lycanthropy to aid them in rooting out any cultists and worshippers of the Dark
Gods. Remembering what had happened to his family, Arkan asked if the man could teach
him so what had happened to him would never happen to another innocent family. The Elf
warned him that this was no simple choice and that once he began on this path, there was no
turning back. But Arkan had already made up his mind, the pain and loss of his family slowly
turning into an icy rage and hunger for vengeance.
And so, he began his training with the Order, first learning the art of martial combat and
swordfighting, history and religion to aid him in his hunt and all the essential information he
needed to hunt those who strayed from the light. After a decade, when his training was
almost complete, he underwent the trials to become a full-fledged Hunter, and was granted
the gift of lycanthropy.
Now he roams the land, tracking and eradicating all those who prey on the innocent and
sacrifice in the name of fiends and dark gods. Bringing them down by either the cold steel of
his blade or the vicious savagery of his fangs.
My experience with D&D: I've been RP'ing for a solid 5 years now, in all sorts of
RPG's and MMO's. When it comes to D&D, I've been playing for almost 2 years with
a campaign of my own that I've been DM'ing for the past 5 months.
What I'm looking for in D&D: It's simple, I love storytelling. And to create an
interactive, immersive story with a group of people who all share that same drive/love
is one of the best feelings there are. To craft a narrative that isn't based around one
character but instead flows with the way the characters act, relate, feel offers a
unique opportunity to not only make a story feel organic and natural but also
combines the best aspects of all sort of fandom, whether it be fantasy, sci-fi, thrillers,
etc.
What's important for me in-game or in a DM: When the DM can take the elements
the players provide him within their respective characters' backstories and weave
them into the world he creates, that's when you know you've struck metaphorical
gold. Or literal gold if the DM is particularly generous. It's all a matter of the DM and
the party working together to weave a thrilling and interesting tale.
What I am looking for in other players: What I enjoy and look for the most in other
players is the opportunity to grow and evolve as a collective, with dynamics shifting
as the narrative progresses. As long as we can create a story together

In character

Name: Cassandra Lexios
Race: Protector Aasimar
Class: Shadow Sorceror
About my character: 
Born in privilege, Cassandra would have her life all set and taken care of from the
start, with no worry in the world. Right? Well ... not exactly. See, with her family's
status and image came certain expectations. Like all her family members, it was
expected of Cassandra to go to an elite private school where she would be taught in
the ways of magic by all the greatest wizards, make plenty of influential contacts
among her peers, and further the family's golden legacy. Except, that didn't really
match with Cass's wants and needs.
Why would she slave over boring spellbooks for hours when she already possessed
the power inside her? See, unlike her kin, who had to study magic and earn their
arcane abilities, Cassandra was born with them. Magic came as natural to her as
breathing. So where is the problem, one might ask? Well, when your family's legacy
is built on clean, flashy magic and divine powers, being able to wield the powers of
shadows and darkness doesn't really match well with that. You can imagine the
surprise when at a youth meeting at her mother's church, Cassandra suddenly starts
spreading darkness across the room. 
The solution? Arrange for her to get sent to a school for adventurers, in the hope that
she might work out that nasty phase and finally conform to her family's wishes. But if
you think our dear Cassandra is going to just roll over and do as asked ... Well,
guess you'll have to find out.

Name: Razundir "Rayze" Elvarys

Race: Eladrin Elf
Class: Way Of The Astral Self Monk
About my character: 
"Power. Precision. Peace."
Those are the 3 words that Rayze had etched into his mind from a young age.
Growing up in his grandfather's dojo, Rayze was steeped in martial arts and
spirituality since his earliest memories. He would see many students train for hours
under his grandfather's tutelage, honing both their mind and body. Even children
younger than he received training. But every time he asked to join in, the answer was
the same: "No. You are not ready."
Those five simple words would be the driving force for the entirety of his youth. For
hours, he would watch the students' moves, taking careful notes, and practicing them
at night when everyone was sleeping. After school, he would do all sorts of little jobs
in order to afford the latest training material and info. A new training dummy? Deliver
some ambrosia pizza's for a few weekends. A ticket for that new martial arts movie?
Go wash the neighbours' flying brooms on Sunday. And on and on. 
This would continue until he turned 14, when his teenage hormones got the better of
him, and he couldn't bottle his frustrations anymore. Interrupting one of his
grandfather's training classes, he demanded to be trained as well. But again he was
told he wasn't ready. Out of years of pent up anger and confusion, he attacked the
sensei in the middle of the dojo, only to be brought down in a second. With the rage
and shame no longer able to be contained, he fled to his room, packing his
belongings to run away. But when he was about to leave, a strange letter and ticket
were lying in front of his door. Having no plan, he decided to just throw caution to the
wind and follow the path the letter lead him on, swearing that one day, he would
return to his grandfather's dojo and prove that he was not only ready but that he
would surpass him.