Posts by Bobbar7857

I'm actually fairly new to D&D (Don't even know some of the rules about spells, etc.) and have only done a few games, anyway, I feel like Wuldraider should perhaps add some input since this is their thread? They haven't posted in a bit, and we've kind of (unintentionally) seized control.

Lowehak gave another nod, "You seem a surprisingly capable youth... are you looking for some work? Perhaps some that could get you off planet?" He was guessing by her seeming fear, or wariness, of this planet that she was new to it, and a new person to the planet was always someone to hire... "I have some very strong connections that could get you either." He grinned, his tongue slithering out again to wet his dry eyes.

Name: Helgraf
Age: He is currently 27.
Race: Your average human.
Class: A Hunter Ranger.
Gender: Male.
Gear: He has a firm yew bow along with a small poniard, he has leather armor which offers minimal protection, though it doesn't do much against the stronger tiers of weaponry it serves its purpose currently.

Faction: He belongs to a small guild formed between three villages of the Nothians, hunters dedicated to making sure the villages and safe and are well stocked for winter. They are simply known as The Bowmen.

History: Taking interest in hunting early on, he killed his first squirrel at eight, using a rudimentary sling and a well aimed pebble, he was raised by a farmer who had originally planned for him to fall into the family trade. He fell into anything but that as he continued his passion for hunting, preferring the taste of a fresh kill over the crops his family grew, he stayed with his family longer than most men to help insure they would have a good life. He joined The Bowmen after discovering them when he was 20, and quickly found himself welcome among their ranks, he has served well with them since then, helping to support all three villages in whatever he can. He has lived a life easier than most, despite the few encounters with men who'd claimed he had no right to hunt in the woods he did, he had no tragic events in his younger years. Unfortunately this pattern did not continue, a small influenza break out claimed his mother and nearly his father, he continues his work now, having lost his mother five years ago he also seeks to help prevent sickness, as well as his usual task of gathering food.

Personality: A jolly fellow, due to the quite honest minor loss he took, he can usually find the bright side to most anything, but he has his limits of course. Though the change is unnoticed by him he has been taking a shift from that personality over the years, and while he is jolly now his attitude will border on apathy in possibly a few year's time. Naive, due to no betrayals that come to mind, he is rather quick to trust what he is believed, and has never had any true trouble with being ruled over in a less than freeing government. His temper is something not well kept sadly, his lack of tragedy leads to both that and his tendency to deal with tragedy well being something yet to be forged. When his mother died it nearly broke the man, driving him to consider suicide, though that event has helped, a tragedy of the proportion again could be his breaking point.

Physical Description: Standing at only 5'8 he is not a very intimidating man and is not particularly brawny, because an archer does not build such visible muscles. If one examined him truly they would see the well defined muscles though, they are less noticeable than that of a swordsman perhaps but he is a man of visible strength if one only looks for it. He is a bit on the skinny side all and all, his body is lean from the exercise gathered from shooting steadily higher and higher pound bows, and practically no fat is left.

Appearance: His eyes are a light blue color, the kind of blue which seems to pierce through you, his hair a light brown, bordering on being dirty blonde as it once was. He tends to shade himself with a cowl that has colors similar to those you might find in a forest, something necessary for moving unseen after his quarry. A stubble is carpeted over his face, like fuzz on a peach, he is never quite clean shaven, but he never quite has anything worthy of being called a beard.

Roleplay sample: I slowly raise my hands as I feel the point of a dagger placed to my back, I was completely stiff as I waited for a chance to move, to strike at the brigand who'd come up behind me. I felt the blade withdraw momentarily, and my body moved, like a cord that is tightened and then released I surged towards the man, spinning on my heel and grabbing his wrist. I twisted it and ripped the blade from his hand, as I bashed the hilt into his nose he went limp, the cartilage finding its way into his soft gray matter.

Also if you want I could take that map and edit it to fit what you described more.

I can't make it any larger sadly, also I have no picture which fits my character, which is why I went into more just describing him overall closely. The only way I could add islands to the north would be by shrinking the mainland. Actually I can just remove the compass rose or place it somewhere else, but the mainland's practically as big as it gets.

I'm afraid the software won't actually let me modify the map, it just keeps taking me to the image of it, I'll work on a new one. (Shouldn't take long it's got some easy tools)

I think I found a picture which might work, I'll add it to my form. Also by the time I saw you message about the map I'd already made a new one XD

Sorry if the map isn't what you were looking for, tried to make it a bit more varied than the other one I made, also that picture I got I feel fits well, except for the sword the guy has, so I'll keep it.

(Quick edit)
The little patches of trees, and the single ones, represent more than they look like because clearly the scale is quite small, it's not a place entirely void of small/medium patches of trees.

I used a free thing called Inkarnate. It's definitely worth checking out, and it is actually made more towards making smaller maps, so everything is at about 35-50% scale XD

Also none of those images really fit too well what I had in mind, but thanks for the offer!

Lowehak chuckled, "I am sure you can handle yourself in a typical fight yes, of course the work I offer is a bit more... under the table than most stuff, the kind of things the Imperials secretly smile upon." He gave a grin, when work came up he lost some of his serious attitude, a new crew member meant more money to Lobo overall, and that meant more money to Lowehak overall. "I work under a local Hutt named Lobo, a fellow responsible for the establishment of this little town... and a fellow always interested in a new hired hand- or gun."

(Also what happened to those people you made who work for Lobo, Kinishi?)

Name: Sargoth
Age: 36, though he looks to be in his early twenties.
Race: Drow
Class: Rogue
Gender: Male

Gear: He carries three blades, an obvious one on his hip, a smaller one in his boot, and a knife which is nothing more than a letter opener is strapped to his leg using a custom made sheathe. He also keeps a sling and two dozen steel pelts, six of them of a larger size, just in case he needs to strike unseen... from a distance.

Faction: He owes his allegiance to a guild of thieves who plague the mainland and the islands. They have no official name, but locals have their own names for them depending on the island, The Shadows, The Unheard Steps, and often The Unseen.

History: Growing in a Drow family which had many magic users in the blood line and great power, he was believed to be the next in line to have the power, being the seventh child of the seventh generation since the last, he fit the odd, fated pattern seen in his family. Whether he has the power or not is unsure, as his father pushed him too much, and it was never revealed but his father assumed he lacked it, and cast him out as a failure. He was eight then. Pushed out of a wealthy family by a father who soon regretted his decision, he vowed never to return to that place, and spent many years as a young urchin on the streets, learning that a quick cut of a coin purse was dinner, he took to thievery. He was recruited into The Unseen, the name he prefers for them, because by the age of seventeen he himself proposed a threat with his stealing to the local guild member in the small town he'd stowed away in. After this he decided the law was overrated, and took to more full on crimes, using his sling to expertly take out the knees or often eyes of horses he helped members of the guild and the bandits attack trading caravans. His group were efficient, eliminating all witnesses and keeping the name for The Unseen well and alive. But then everything changed when a member of his group sold them out, and he spent ten of his years in prison. He was released three years ago, and has already continued his life of crime, though each day he feels more and more inclined to break his vow, to meet his family and discover if he ever did have the power as they had thought.

Personality: Not one to trust others, but surprisingly friendly and charismatic, he can usually win most over to his ideas, either through his charm... or well trained intimidation and torture techniques. While he tends to be a joyful, sarcastic fellow, in spite of all his past he hides a deep frozen core, which would do anything to save him. Despite his happy appearance and warmness he does not feel loss when a friend dies, no matter how close they might have been to him when he was alive he is not changed by it. He has not shed a tear since he was eight years old, and has never experienced depression or anything like that, but those who know him best know the happiness, the sarcastic quips... are forced. He desperately wishes, deep inside himself, that he could break the barrier and let his sadness, his terror, his fear of what the future may bring, his regrets of the past, and his shame spill out. So far no one has poked so much as a hole in his dam, but it only takes a few leaks to make a flood.

Physical Description: Standing at six feet tall he is an extremely thin figure, which suits his chosen job well... his otherwise gray face is marked by a tattoo, the symbol of the Drow noble family he came from, only those who have experienced the culture of his people recognize it. It is the easiest way to identify him, though no one he has met has recognized it, either that or they have not shared their revelation. His eyes have a green yellow tint to them, and his white hair sits in a mess, Sargoth's youthful face can usually be found with a smile on it, that reaches his eyes from years of practice where it did not.

(Just a warning, the image is fairly big, and I'd rather not do the hassle of resizing it, I'm quite a fan of its look.)
Appearance:

Name: The desert planet of Govine

Species: The Lacerta

Home System: The Batin system, a system with a dozen planets and close to five dozen moons. Four planets are habitable, three of them are populated, and a dozen of fifteen habitable moons are populated.

Description: Humanoid in appearance but not quite so in behavior, they are a strange mixture between a sort of spider human cross and a lizard human cross. They have four eyes, and a bit of hair sticking out of their ears similar to that of a spider, but their outside is covered in mostly scales. They have sharp teeth and a forked tongue which occasionally darts out to their eyes, it is long enough that they can use it to wet their dry eyes. They do produce silk, but now it is used for armor more than anything else, though some of them use it to make things inside of their homes, said homes are burrows in the ground. They stand anywhere from six to seven feet tall, and rarely fall over or under those marks, the females are larger than the males, as it is with spiders. They do have a tail, which the silk comes out of it, and rather than claws they have small hairs on their palms and sticking out from their fingers. They have the ability to climb on walls to a certain extent, but generally can not climb extremely slick surfaces.

History: Though it is unknown to any they were made by freak accident long ago, and their origins lie among Dakronis scientists who had lost an experimental creature on this planet. Through generations of this bipedal lizard thriving, and through some freak accident of nature, breeding with a rather large spider, they some how came out with a cross species creature that did not come out sterile. They keep the bipedal lizards and large spiders which they believe to be their ancestors as pets, but the Dakronis have never revealed the truth to them. Early in their space faring years the Lacerta began their work as mercenaries, renowned combatants and the best shots you can find in the galaxy, they were driven to these desires by greed, because their desert home world lacks in riches, they are captivated by the jewels other worlds have to offer. This has led them to a rich history of warlords, bounty hunters, mercenaries, and all of their technology focused around war.

Ambition: The greatest ambition of any Lacerta is a desire to find some beauty beyond their blank, boring desert world they come from originally, though many lack this due to not being born there they're caught up in the mercenary business. There are only seven reported Lacertas in history who stood at the position of pacifist.

Leaders: The power of their government is practically useless, and in reality various mercenary guilds struggle for control over the people, and of course the riches.

Fleet: They fly medium sized ships, named, in a reference to their appearance and heritage, Spider Venom class ships. These are the only ones they have, though the design of the ship varies between individual and the military ones are better than most.

Signature Technology: Their weaponry surpasses all other in the galaxy.

Helgraf moved slowly in his cloak which seemed to shimmer, the coloring of it causing the forest behind him to seemingly meld with the silhouette of a man. He drew back his bow, the specific pounds behind it aren't necessary to know, you simply need to know that when he released that string the arrow flew with enough velocity to slam deeply into the throat of the deer he was aiming for. It was a young, limping stag, easy to track, it had lost itself in the trees, left by the rest of the deer to fend for himself, the animal had made an easy target. Not the biggest creature Helgraf had taken down this month, but he remarked grimly in his mind as he tied together its hooves, certainly the easiest, his mind went back to when he'd mistaken the tracks of a boar for that of a lost prize pig... Pure luck had driven the arrow he'd fired then into the boar's heart, just under the left shoulder of the creature, its tusks had been only inches from his throat.

Sargoth grinned as he raked in the coins from the center of the tavern table, "I'm afraid the cards just weren't with you gentlemen tonight, but it seems I'm going to bed with lady luck." He chuckled, though the only thing he received in response were glares and accusations as he rose, slipping the coins into his small pouch he exposed on his belt, he'd move them to a hidden one later... He was backing towards the tavern door as shouts were thrown at him, "Cheater!" "Scoundrel!" "No good Dark Elf!" He was shoved by one of the more brutish humans... and a few cards dropped from his sleeves. He gave the men no time to realize they'd lost their money unjustly, grabbing the man who'd shoved him and bringing his head into the wall with one hand, and using the other arm to elbow the second in the face. The third had a moment to register the scene, and swung a chair which broke on the door, the door creakily swinging after Sargoth had quickly excused himself...

Name: Rashak Galine
Age: 39
Race: Human
Class: Fighter
Gender: Male
Gear: He wields a scimitar, though he keeps a small scythe ready as well, and will often use both, allowing him to hook the weapon of his enemy. Whenever he is in full gear, however, he goes for a heavier ax.
Faction: He is the sultan of the Urindan Sultanate.
History: Born into the currently ruling Galine family of the Urindan Sultanate, he was the obvious heir as the oldest male of four children, two of his siblings were males as well, and in their teen years one of them attempted to end Rashak's life... This ended in said brother being cast away into the desert, taken by ship to the other side of the bay, and left with only two days of supplies, his brother, like all the others given said punishment, was never seen again. The shock of his brother's attack on him, through a poison which was thankfully identified by a servant hired to taste his food, just in case, hardened Rashak, as did the sacrifice of that servant and the loss of his brother. He carries that shame still on his shoulders, and later in life survived two more assassination attempts due to the sacrifice of those who are considered under him, one by arrow, another by blade. After the second one he took to learning how to defend himself, and what known herbs could be treated to heal such wounds, even going so far as to test on animals to find antidotes, he learned not only how to fight but how to heal wounds dealt by him to his enemies, or dealt to him by his enemies. When he rose to the rank of Sultan he was wed to a young woman named Jadina, a girl who came from a powerful family, the marriage is just a matter of politics to them both, and any passion or love due to it is rare, or faked.

Personality: A man who has seen much and lived through moments of sheer terror, Rashak has an emotional shell which has sealed him off from trauma, but whenever he goes before his people he seems a sensitive, charismatic and great leader, he is practically numb on the inside. The only people he does care about are his people of course, due to his brother's attack on him he is not a family man, but he would do anything to protect his country and keep them surviving. To strangers he is wary, due to years of political training he tends not to be openly trusting, and will always make sure he has an escape route.

Physical Description: Standing at 6'6 he is a large man, and his typical, Arabic appearance, complete with a head wrapping and skin darkened by the sun, makes him an intimidating figure to most. Much like the rest of his people he has dark hair as well, though it is not often shown.

Appearance:
His formal appearance when addressing his people or at a political event. (A bit Jafaar looking, ain't he?)

Him in full, battle ready gear.

Rashak walked forward slowly, intently, as he lead the force of around two hundred men towards the village that has been spotted... They were sailing, hunting for anything new in the seemingly endless seas of this world, when they found the greenest place they had ever seen. They were unaware that they were on the northwestern section of Nothia, the region of Baldynn as it was known to the locals, was an entirely green place. From where they were, nearly to the village, though the position of the sun gave them shadows to hide behind the gentle sloping landscape they would be in clear view at noon. He saw people going to that massive body of water and not only gathering water from it, but directly drinking from it, the thing was like a miniature ocean... an inland version of the Bay of Dragoff he had grown next to. He raised his right hand, and they halted, then surged forward as he brought his hand down with a cry, "Strike for your families, strike for your future families, and strike for Urindan!" They swarmed forward as one, and the attack began.

(Inserting a quick, one use NPC)
William, a guard of this unfortunate little town, saw movement in the distance, he was sure of it... He ran for the alarm bell and began ringing it just as the strange men surged forward, and then he moved back down the street, stumbling backwards as four men came at him. He stood his ground and then moved forward after a few moment, striking one of the strangers down, they all had dark skin, and wore odd armor, he'd never seen the likes before. His steel blade went through it thankfully easily and the one he'd struck went down, his shield catching a strike from one of their curved blades, he took a slash to his back from a curved weapon, he could not identify the scythe, and was taken back by the odd weapons these men wielded. He turned and fled, along with many others of the guard, crying out, "Attack! Attack, rouse the guard, send ou-" A thrown weapon cut his cry short. Within half an hour of the attack a lucky horseman warned another town, and that town two more, and then that one another, and so forth. It didn't take long for this new, outrageous news to spread like wild fire across the land.

Lowehak grinned at the girl, "I assure you... the process will be more intense once you meet him, girl, he is not as accepting as I am." He gestured for her to follow as he headed down the street, and then almost immediately stopped, a familiar group of Gamorreans were headed their way, and Lowehake didn't hesitate, drawing his small holdout blaster. He fired a shot before the Gamorreans could move, ducking to the side as a large ax swung by a hog like man swung past, and then nailing its owner between the eyes. Two more shots were enough to drive the group of formerly six, now of two, Gamorreans fleeing from his wrath. He nodded at the girl, "Get stepping then, Lobo likes people who can get somewhere fast."

Ameebo left the humid throne room, grateful to have gotten out of there, but unsure if he liked the job he'd been given... He had been ordered to pilot a transport ship full of Wookie slaves, and to deliver them to an Imperial mining prison, a planet where spice was secretly mined and dealt out to the various cartels to get protection the Empire could not afford. He shuddered at the thought of the smell of so many Wookies in one place, thankfully Lobo had promised that there would be plenty of protection on board in the form of Trandoshans, and even a group of Troopers.

Lobo sent the message to the higher ups of the Imperials of course, letting them know that the transport was on way, but that since the transport was one of the smaller ones he had sent one of his... below average pilots. He also sent a message intended for Vader and the Emperor directly, one of the Wookies on board the ship had supposedly shown force sensitivity, and if they wanted that fellow for whatever reason, they'd best interfere the ship before the Jedi found out...

Name: Hrek
Gender: Male
Race: Wookiee (Its spelled with two E's)
Fandom: Star Wars
Faction/Job/Position: He is currently enslaved by the empire.
Description: One of the few force sensitive Wookiees, Hrek is in appearance a typical Wookiee, standing at about seven and a half feet tall and covered in black fur he is an intimidating figure, even when in chains. He has a deep voice as far as Wookiees go, and he killed many Imperials when they were capturing him, though it took a long while before his force sensitivity was realized, even though he unknowingly used it in the fight. He is unaware of his abilities in the force, though he brags about his skill with a bowcaster and of course his strength, something no human can match.

Lobo let out a laugh, the Imperials were again relying on his men, unfortunately his men weren't too reliable for imperials, his HK-77 translated his chuckling speech, "I am afraid Lowehak no longer does work for the Empire, he's past his Jedi hunting days." He let out another small burst of laughter, his attendants spraying moisture over his dry skin, despite the fact that the room was already humid he kept attendants with him at all times. He shook his head slowly, "I assure you Lowehak has no wish to work for Vader again, not after the unfortunate events of his last Jedi Hunt." He was referring to the one instance where a target had eluded Lowehak, the only Jedi Master he'd ever attempted to hunt, the man had easily slipped away, and many years were spent by Lowehak re-earning his reputation after it.

Ameebo did not respond to the bounty hunter as he went through the hall and out to his ship, where a group of Gamorreans and properly armed mercenaries waited, they formed a pathway for him as he came onto the ship. He could get used to having guards who treated him like this when he went on missions, usually they jeered at him and called him things like 'Bug Eyes' for fun. He boarded the ship, the dozen men coming on board, thankfully the cargo hold was empty and it could be made into another bunk, other wise these men would not even fit properly on the ship. As is the small make shift brig, or kitchen, he had, would be too small for them to all be going for food at once. He let out a long sigh as he realized the ship only had one restroom.

Lowehak and the girl were approaching Lobo's palace, the guards began to move to stop Lowehak, but then he tapped the tally marks on his armor... As he turned to let the guard inspect them they were in clear view for anyone to see, expertly drawn lightsabers, each one with a line of red at the top of it for the blade... The blood of the Jedi who the lightsaber represented was the feature that set him apart from other Jedi hunters, he had the aroma of blood around him, wherever he went it wafted after him. It hung in the air now, and the Gamorrean inspecting the marks could smell it, he actually put a fresh bit of blood there every now and then... just to make sure the smell hung around.

Hrek pulled at his chains again, letting out a long howl of frustration, but the moment he applied too much pressure, it sent an electric shock, it was painful but not harmful and stopped his pulling. He let out another roar of anger, the guards looked over at him warily, they were docked and waiting for Ameebo to come, the other pilot had finished his section of the slave run. Hrek pulled... harder this time, the shock did a bit of damage, pumping up the shock due to the Wookiee's increasing the force he was pulling with, a bit of smoke rose from his fur and he roared even louder this time. All the Wookiees had tried similar things at first, after a while they gave in course... they always did.

Lowehak shook his head, "It's from a sort of... past life. I once participated in the Jedi Hunt, though I do not follow that path any longer I still am proud of what I did, Jedi are great respected warriors in the eyes of Trandoshans, taking down a Jedi is a sign of great honor." He grinned, as memories flooded back to him... the thrill of the hunt, the rush as a lightsaber swung past him, narrowly missing him... watching the weak Jedi crumble before him. He relished the memories.

Lobo shook his head slowly, "It is not my decision, little Sith, it is for Lowehak alone to decide... and it's safe to say that he no longer has a desire to continue that life. After his failed Jedi Hunt he made an oath to no longer hunt them, and Trandoshans are very stubborn about their oaths, trust me I know. I have tried to push him into another Jedi Hunt before, and he owes a life debt to me, but not even I could sway his opinion on the subject."

Ameebo sat down in the cockpit and started the ship... well, he tried to. The idiot pilot before him had left the thing on, and much like a car which had the head lights turned on for too long, this thing wasn't going anywhere. He cursed, slamming his hand on the control console in anger, he didn't realize what button he'd hit until it had taken effect. He'd turned off the electric charge powering the Wookiee chains... nothing was stopping them from ripping the chains free now, he ran off the ship like a chicken with its head cut off.

Hrek gave another tug at his chains... and received no shock. He let out a roar, shouting to the other Wookiees, "The chains no longer punish us for our resistance, fight for your freedom brothers!" He pulled on one chain specifically... until it ripped clean out of the ship wall, and then he repeated the process on the other one. He slammed into the door of his cell, and heard similar sounds throughout the ship... the guards outside began to panic as Wookiees burst out, going on a rampage. The captain of the Troopers sent a hasty, panicked message to inform Vader that the force sensitive Wookiee seemed to have incited a riot, and that the slaves were free... Just before Hrek ripped his arms off.

Lobo began to generate an excuse of Lowehak's location, trying to explain that the bounty hunter wandered. In the other room Lowehak was talking with the Twilek put to work outside Lobo's room, being informed of the situation... He walked into the room, grinning broadly, "I hope you know that Sith die as easily as Jedi, and that I do not like either coming in to bring up my past..." His stance was not tense, but calm and collected, if he wanted to draw his gun quickly he needed to be loose, if he was tense his muscles could be pulled or the like, and he couldn't have that.

Ameebo turned and fired at the horde of Wookiees spilling out of the ship, he was with three Troopers and one of Lobo's Gamorreans, desperately trying to get a land speeder up and running before the hairy monsters could reach them. A Wookiee got in close, dragged a Trooper away, the others had been staying back so far, but this brute cut the Trooper's screams off short. The speeder came to life and they hopped in, not bothering to fire as the Wookiees ran close behind, another Trooper was snagged, dragged screaming out of the vehicle. The Trooper left frantically sent a message much like his captain had, "Wookiee ship lost, they're in a blood rage! Don't send in reinforcements, I repeat, do not send in reinforcements, these things just took down four platoons, keep your distance!"

Hrek, and all the other Wookiees, were in a blood rage, but they were not stupid. The men around the speeder were armed, and they needed an opening to attack... Hrek saw it and ran in, grabbing a Trooper, the Wookiees roared as they destroyed the man, shattering bones, smashing his skull. After the speeder left the Wookiees began to organize themselves, gathering weapons from the dead Troopers and guards, Hrek took a Trooper's repeater. This would be fun.