Character Sheet
The Mysterious Orphan

Name: Lotte, daughter of Henrik and Anelie
Sexuality: Pansexual
Age: 18
Species: Lamia, Central Lands Human Culture
Level: 3
Class: Hunter
Weapons: Bow, Knife

XP: 2/18

Description: A tall lamia, with short blond hair, and blue eyes, dressed in a protective vest and a noble's hunting shirt. They are muscular, well-formed and handsome, and have slightly yellowish eyes and a forked tongue. Their snake-half is in a forest pattern that helps for blending in, except for the occasional splash of Tyrian purple.

Traits:

Just Devotions (Racial--Human, Central, Cultural)(Level 0): Humans in some parts of the world worship the Gods, vast and sometimes unknowable beings that do grant blessings to those that believe in them, magical blessings. But even the lowliest of the pious knows how to pray to them, how to do the right supplications, how to act in the proper ways. This knowledge can sometimes be put to good use, though the Gods rarely turn their eyes to every little prayer.

Wholesome Farm Looks (Human, Central, Physical, Level 1): Though most of the people of the Central lands, that mass of Kingdoms, Princedoms, Dukedoms, Duchess States, and more, are of course quite poor, they are a hardy, hard-working people, and sometimes this life less beats a person down and more hones them. They have reasonably good looks, and even more importantly, look trustworthy, clean-cut, and otherwise like the kind of person who'd never lied a day in their life or slacked off a single hour, either. This remains even after becoming a lamia, though it is... tempered, obviously.

Snake Eyes (Level 1, Physical, Lamia): You can see in the dark pretty well. It isn't perfect, but the night is not nearly so dark and full of dangers as you expected it would be, for whatever reason.


Forest Wanderer (0, Pre-Class): The forest is a fascinating place for a child, as long as they don't go too far. As one gets used to it, one learns more about its ins and outs, and while some of it only applies to the forest that such a child lived in at first, much of it is quite helpful later.

Forest Eyes (Level 1. Class): As one could have eyes that pick out every tiny detail of the tundra, so can one be used to seeing in the dark forest tracks, possibilities, old growth, traps, and anything else, especially when one knows how to use your ears and nose to aid it. It is remarkable how much you can see, when you see what is actually there.

Hunter's Mettle (Level 1, Class): To hunt, one needs a bow, an arrow, and perhaps a knife for self-defense. Having some skill at them is inevitable, having solid skill at them is admirable, and quite useful.

Steady Arm (Level 2, Class): You have a strong, consistent aim. You're not a superlative archer, at least by the standards of adventurers, but you don't have off moments, and you don't waver from being able to hit your target, even if you're not doing the fancier tricks.

Leave Few Traces (Level 2, Class): The experience of being on one side of the hunt makes you wonder how you'd hide your tracks if you were being hunted, or tracked by hostile enemies, as sometimes does happen in adventures. You've begun to practice how not to be followed in the woods, and perhaps elsewhere.


Mending Knowledge, Basic (Level 0, Pre-Class, Healing Priest): You know how to apply poultrices, and you know the basic ingredients of a number of potions that cure headaches, deal with common pains, put someone into a gentle sleep, and other minor things. You can also bandage someone properly. You are not very good at this, merely adequate... but that's more than what most people are.


Whitlin' Ways (Level 1, Common): A man or woman who knows how to whittle will never want for whistles, or spoons, or any number of goods. It's a useful, solid sort of skill, and one that could be made into a trade. It also makes a pretty decent way to pass the time, and the person who whittles never lacks for a knife in sticky situations.

Penny Pincher (Level 1, General): You know the value of a Pfin, and how to keep from wasting all of your money, even if you're far from a merchant. Money is something you're familiar with.

Steel Nerves (General, Level 3): You've seen enough strange places and done enough fantastic things that you are less likely to panic in terrible situations, and more likely to think things through, however difficult. This doesn't mean you can't panic at all, but you have a grip on those nerves. In battle and danger only, this unfortunately doesn't help at all with social anxiety.


Divine Sense (Level 0, Divine): You can sense when someone is a Demigod, and there's at least the potential ability--though you have not figured it out yet--to try to track people through their divine 'scent.' A person's 'scent' gets stronger as they get more magically and divinely powerful... but on the other hand, you now have a 'scent' of your own, that will allow other demigods to know you for what you are, increasingly as you grow more powerful yourself.

Captivating Eyes (Level 2, Divine): You can sometimes 'catch' people with your eyes. If you're concentrating, they'll find it slightly more difficult to look away, though any sense of threat or danger breaks it immediately, and they'll hear your words clearly, actually listening… or at least hearing them. There's no requirement to listen to them, nor does it seem as if anyone's mind is being altered in any way, but it's an interesting, if bizarre, power, and certainly is a new take on 'lost in their eyes.'

Slithering Shadows (Level 3, Divine): You can blend into the shadows better than you should be able to. At night, and in darker areas, you can seem to shift away from sight. It doesn't work well in a wide-open space, but that little bit of extra secrecy can be very useful as a hunter, and as someone who might need to sneak through various areas.
 
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[X] Disaster! Somewhat to the north, a holy shrine to a martyr has been ransacked, and the goods stolen and taken deep into the wilderness of the so-called Roterwald. Now they need a team of adventurers to track down the goods and bring them back.
 
[X] Disaster! Somewhat to the north, a holy shrine to a martyr has been ransacked, and the goods stolen and taken deep into the wilderness of the so-called Roterwald. Now they need a team of adventurers to track down the goods and bring them back.

Lets get religious
 
[X] Disaster! Somewhat to the north, a holy shrine to a martyr has been ransacked, and the goods stolen and taken deep into the wilderness of the so-called Roterwald. Now they need a team of adventurers to track down the goods and bring them back.
 

That's an interesting name.

You could use a randomized name generator, you know?

Unless castles elsewhere were even bigger.

Oh you sweet summer child
Her husband, a bastard warrior

Is that an indication of his character, his parentage, or his preferred weapon? Or neither?

[X] Disaster! Somewhat to the north, a holy shrine to a martyr has been ransacked, and the goods stolen and taken deep into the wilderness of the so-called Roterwald. Now they need a team of adventurers to track down the goods and bring them back.

I feel like we will dual class into cleric someways down the road. :V
 
[X] Disaster! Somewhat to the north, a holy shrine to a martyr has been ransacked, and the goods stolen and taken deep into the wilderness of the so-called Roterwald. Now they need a team of adventurers to track down the goods and bring them back.
 
[X] Disaster! Somewhat to the north, a holy shrine to a martyr has been ransacked, and the goods stolen and taken deep into the wilderness of the so-called Roterwald. Now they need a team of adventurers to track down the goods and bring them back.
 
[X] Disaster! Somewhat to the north, a holy shrine to a martyr has been ransacked, and the goods stolen and taken deep into the wilderness of the so-called Roterwald. Now they need a team of adventurers to track down the goods and bring them back.
 
[X] A minor nobleman's son has been attacked by some sort of monster, and seeks aid in hunting it down and either capturing it or killing it. They're some ways away, but they've sent out the call far and wide, though this might well mean competition for the job.

Seems a fitting task for a hunter.
 
[X] Disaster! Somewhat to the north, a holy shrine to a martyr has been ransacked, and the goods stolen and taken deep into the wilderness of the so-called Roterwald. Now they need a team of adventurers to track down the goods and bring them back.
 
[X] Disaster! Somewhat to the north, a holy shrine to a martyr has been ransacked, and the goods stolen and taken deep into the wilderness of the so-called Roterwald. Now they need a team of adventurers to track down the goods and bring them back.
 
[X] A minor nobleman's son has been attacked by some sort of monster, and seeks aid in hunting it down and either capturing it or killing it. They're some ways away, but they've sent out the call far and wide, though this might well mean competition for the job.
 
[X] Disaster! Somewhat to the north, a holy shrine to a martyr has been ransacked, and the goods stolen and taken deep into the wilderness of the so-called Roterwald. Now they need a team of adventurers to track down the goods and bring them back.

Ruffians? In our religious establishment???
 
[X] Disaster! Somewhat to the north, a holy shrine to a martyr has been ransacked, and the goods stolen and taken deep into the wilderness of the so-called Roterwald. Now they need a team of adventurers to track down the goods and bring them back.

A good cause that leads deep into the wilderness sounds perfect.
 
[X] Disaster! Somewhat to the north, a holy shrine to a martyr has been ransacked, and the goods stolen and taken deep into the wilderness of the so-called Roterwald. Now they need a team of adventurers to track down the goods and bring them back.
 
Inserted tally
Adhoc vote count started by NemoMarx on Jul 30, 2019 at 8:38 AM, finished with 15 posts and 14 votes.

  • [X] Disaster! Somewhat to the north, a holy shrine to a martyr has been ransacked, and the goods stolen and taken deep into the wilderness of the so-called Roterwald. Now they need a team of adventurers to track down the goods and bring them back.
    [X] A minor nobleman's son has been attacked by some sort of monster, and seeks aid in hunting it down and either capturing it or killing it. They're some ways away, but they've sent out the call far and wide, though this might well mean competition for the job.
 
2:2
2:2

It was an outrage, and one that Lotte had to answer as a believer, especially since she knew, before even being told, which martyr it was. Ingeld had lived five-hundred years before, during the Great Troubles, and when his Duchy was threatened by a marauding band of mercenaries, criminals, and monsters, he stepped up to lead a guerrilla campaign that had protected the shrines of several Gods and had kept the peasants safe. A man who'd come out of the strange, dark woods of his home, and saved everyone, and then died towards the end of the war. Lotte's mother had once said that perhaps it was for the best, for he was a protector of the priests and the peasants, and while he had no grudge against nobility, neither had he seemed to think that they were any more important than the peasants. Such an attitude might have soured… considering he'd had a dedicated army at his back. It wasn't something she liked to think about.

Lotte didn't know if she shared her mothers' cynicism. Yes, nobles could sometimes be proud, but surely not so much as that…

Either way, he'd died in the last battle, defending a very important shrine, and after several visions from different Gods praising him, priests had pushed to have a martyrs' shrine built for him. And so it had been built, and existed untouched to this day, so great was the respect for this pious woodsman.

Until recently, that is.

Lotte had always liked to think that, in her own small. humble way, she could imitate Ingeld's fundamental goodness, the greatness of spirit that the stories always gave him. But this was the idle daydream of some farm girl. Still, when she'd heard about the thefts, she couldn't imagine not doing something about it. It didn't hurt that the bartender had mentioned that the martyr's shrine had sent the message that the pay would be equal to the task. Of course, they'd also petitioned various heroes far and wide, and if it wasn't recovered in a week or two, Lotte would have competition from heroes famous across all of Vikalean, at least in theory. But for the moment, they were reaching out to locals, in the hopes that this could be swifty resolved, and without the attention that more famous and skilled adventurers would bring.

Still, Lotte had very little time if she wanted to make it in time, for they had given a deadline of the next Holy Day, which would be the--she struggled for a moment to remember its name-- Feast of the Martyr Andreas of Calorn, though it wasn't much celebrated in the North.

Lotte didn't question how the man had known so much about the Feasts, since very few of them were celebrated in her village. There were other concerns, and the Gods themselves took enough time. Some were noted, of course, and the most major ones celebrated when there was time between one labor after enough.

It kept one humble, never truly running out of work, for all that Lotte shied away from the humility that housework would have brought. She'd watched the way her mother's work, just as her father's, never ended. It just renewed itself once the long day was done.

But she did know that it wasn't a lot of time, and so she hurried off right after it, and took to the road until the moon was high in the sky, and then set up her tent and slipped off to sleep, hoping she'd wake up if there were bandits. The dark of the night was a dangerous time to be out anywhere, but she couldn't afford to sleep as soon as the sun climbed down from its perch.

Then the next morning she continued at her pace, wishing she had the coin necessary and the skills required to ride a horse. It'd have certainly helped her, though she was a steady walker, the sort who could go in one direction for hours on end without slowing at all. The roads were bad, and at places muddy, but she forged onward, having no time to waste with cleaning up, not yet. Perhaps there'd be time, since she was sure there was a village near the martyr's shrine.

She made excellent time, by which it was to be admitted that she barely made it in time. She came into the somewhat small village overlooked on a lightly wooded hill, within which was the shrine itself, not particularly concealed by nature.

The village itself was lovely, clearly prosperous, its houses well-made and its people comparably well-fed. Lotte looked in admiration at the village as she walked through, getting many stares from people who no doubt wondered who this woman was. She had her bow on her back, unstrung, and her pack might have marked her as an adventurer, but she was like no story.

She was rougher and more worn, and she looked more like an itinerant than a hero, but there was a broad smile on her face as she took in the sights. A pig, wandering free, came up to her and snorted at her, looking her up and down. Lotte stepped aside to let it pass, wondering if there were any dogs. There were few enough in her home village, and while she knew that she didn't have that long, she did have long enough to slow and watch the village life.

At least until one of the women came up and approached her. "Traveler, are you an adventurer?" the girl asked. She was dark-haired, short and built like a bundle of sticks, but with wide, soft looking eyes.

"Yes."

"Then you want to follow me, if you're staying for the night to go up to the shrine tomorrow. The other adventurers have already come, and are staying at the local inn for pilgrims," she said, with a simple nod. "We are honored to have you here in our village." She gave a curtsy that looked like something out of a story. "I am Olinda, daughter of the local headman, the famed former warrior Paldrich the Bold. My father, in the interests of piety, has put up for all adventurers at the inn, with no charge. Though…"

She trailed off, looking Lotte up and down. "You are rougher than the other three."

"The other three?" Lotte asked, carefully. "May I ask who they are?"

"Well, one of them is a Sepult woman, a Speaker for the Ancestors, named Clemencia. Then there's Guilliam of Etone, he's a troubadour." She flushed, eyes going a bit wide. "A charming man, though I don't know how much to trust him. And of course, a nearby noble warrior, who has been Knighted in the west, Sir Oscar of Guttenvald. He's well known for his piety and bravery. Which brings me to ask, who are you?"

She smiled as she said it, but Lotte had the distinct feeling that she was being tested, given distant targets and told to aim for them. "My name is Lotte, and I was a hunter, and am now an adventurer. This will be only my second adventure, if I am accepted, but when I heard that a shrine had been desecrated, I had to do something. And I felt that since I knew something about navigating forests, I might be able to help." She took a breath, smiling a little. "I'm aware that I'm less experienced than some of the people who have come, but I hope I can contribute in my way."

Olinda smiled broadly at that. "It is true that someone to help navigate would help, and humility is a virtue indeed. I have always been much guided by Oshenkaron."

Oshenkaron, the ox-headed God who carried other Gods in the back of his cart, who labored and worked for others not because he was inferior, but because he was best at these tasks. It was said that one of the stages that the dead went through was a ride on his cart. He asked them about their accomplishments, and tested their souls for lies, for bragging and boasting beyond what one's deeds could justify.

Lotte had occasionally given tribute to him, but had felt a little strange about it, since she certainly didn't stick to her assigned place the way people said Oshenkaron liked. But she had laid out a few bits of animal skin in the back of one of the Oshenkarts that his priests sometimes sent around, to gather materials for the neediest.

Lotte returned her smile and said, "It is sensible."

"I do have one question," Olinda asked.

"Yes?" Lotte asked.

"Isn't Lotte a woman's name?" Olinda asked.

"I, uh." Lotte coughed a little. It was true that wearing Aldrich's shirt, and in rough clothes, spackled with mud and otherwise worn from work, she didn't seem nearly so much of a woman as Olinda in front of her. For some reason that didn't trouble her much, and so she took a deep breath. "I am a woman."

"Oh! Oh. I'm sorry, I merely looked at your hair and assumed." She looked Lotte up and down, and her face got even more red. "We should go to the inn. It is quite nice, and my father is paying for your stay tonight. It's an act of piety for our greatest hero."

Lotte didn't know how to feel about being mistaken, and so she tried to ignore it was they walked over towards the inn, which was… remarkable.

The walls were good, strong wood, and the whole structure, with two large floors, looked almost like a palace in miniature. Lotte knew that she was perhaps exaggerating, but compared to the tavern she'd been at, this was something else. And inside it didn't stink that badly, in part because the candles seemed to be burning some mild incense, and the floors were wooden boards. In fact, there were tables, chairs, and even dark benches in the corner, away from the unlit fireplace.

The walls were whitewashed, and behind the bar was a thickset middle-aged woman, and other girls, barmaids or perhaps prostitutes, brought drinks to rowdy men and women both. This was nothing like what she'd experienced before, and shrine business had to have been why everything was so nice.

"Hey, we have a fourth," a male voice said, melodic and lovely, from behind them. Lotte turned to spy a man in hose, breeches, and a tunic, all of which were brightly colored, with the hose especially showing signs that he must have changed in it before he went on the road. He was a slim, willow-tree of a man, but with a sharp nose, silky dark hair, bright green eyes, and a grin that showed off remarkably good teeth. "I am Guilliam of Etone, and you? You must be a huntress, or perhaps a dweller of the nearby forest?" He was looking at the mud on her boots and legs, though not with contempt so much as with surprise. Though he also didn't say 'huntress' and instead said 'untress.'

"Yes, I am," Lotte said. "My name is Lotte."

"Ah, good, good, so the other adventurers are down here too. First, there's that Sepult Speaker. A sharp woman, sharp tongued, sharp-minded. Her beard isn't sharp at least, but she's been winning for an hour." He pointed over to where there was a game going, with four players around a table. One of them, sitting on a large cushion, was a Sepult, the first Lotte had ever seen. She had a dark-brown beard, which looked oily and smooth, and ended in a curl like a ringlet of hair. The hair on her head was even longer than at her front, and went down the back of her head and halfway down her back in tresses, elaborate braids and twists that made Lotte wince just to think of how hard it must be to maintain. The woman herself was dressed in blue and red robes, and her face was obscured somewhat by the beard and the beer mug, as well as the cards she held close to her face. All that could be seen were eyes that looked like they might be flint grey.

"Oh," Lotte said, awfully intimidated.

"Let's go bother her!" Guilliam said, and gestured for Lotte to follow him.

Clemencia set down the stein of beer, delicately wiped her mouth with the cloth, and then played down a black card, decarling. "A trump. And a fool." She glanced up at Guilliam. "A fool and… his friend?"

"I'd like to introduce you to Lotte. She'll be the fourth player in our little game," Guilliam said, ignoring the glares of the other players, who no doubt were wanting to continue the real game.

Clemencia looked Lotte up and down, and then whistled. "You're more solid than most manlings, that's true. And a bow? Not a Sepult weapon indeed. I suppose we will get along, as long as you are not too big of a fool, like this one. Now--"

"You're cheating!" a big, dark-haired man declared. "Using your magic to cheat!"

"My magic does not work that way. Also, it is my religion," Clemencia. "Do you think I would defile it simply to win money from manlings who don't know how to play cards?"

"How dare you--"

"Yeah, we're stepping away from this mess before it starts," Guilliam said. "This way. Right by the fireplace. Oscar's changed out of the armor, at least."

Oscar wasn't as big as Lotte expected. In fact, he looked like he might be a little shorter than her, with blond hair and blue eyes, but a face that looked like someone had beaten him time and time again. He was thick with the muscle of a well-trained man, but he was too tense, the kind of tense that in an archer would have been disastrous. You couldn't fight while you were a bundle of nerves, Lotte decided.

"What does the blasphemer want?" Oscar asked, not even looking up. "I'm in no mood to listen to heresy right now. I was praying."

"O… kay. Maybe I should just… leave you two…" Guilliam began.

"Two?" Oscar looked up, taking in Lotte. "Ah. And who are you?"

"Lotte, I'm an adventurer," Lotte said, earnestly.

"Do you at least hold the Gods in your heart?"

"Yes, as many as I know," Lotte said.

"Then I suppose you are an acceptable companion on this quest." He looked her up and down. "A brave peasant and hunter who knows these woods?"

Lotte said, "I am from nearby, but not quite these woods. But I know how to make my way through the wilderness, and I know how to track others."

"Ah, very well." Oscar nodded. "This shall aid our endeavor."

But then he said nothing else, which was quite awkward.

What to do? (Choose 1)

[] Go over to Guilliam, who is carousing, dancing, and singing. Perhaps join in. He's strange, and the talk of him being a heretic is unnerving, but he seems fun enough.
[] Clemencia is winning at cards, again and again. Watch for a while, and perhaps once she's done, Lotte could talk to her a little. She's never met a Sepult, after all!
[] Oscar is clearly private and closed in, but perhaps Lotte could lure him out with talk of religion, and the task at hand.

******

A/N: Meet your first adventurer's party! A Speaker, a Troubadour, and a Knight.

Also, I had this done on Saturday, but what with the Council Nom QA Session, I just forgot about it.
 
What's a Speaker? A variation of Cleric, right?
Who's a Sepult???
I have no idea. Neither does Lotte.

[X] Clemencia is winning at cards, again and again. Watch for a while, and perhaps once she's done, Lotte could talk to her a little. She's never met a Sepult, after all!
 
What's a Speaker? A variation of Cleric, right?
Who's a Sepult???
I have no idea. Neither does Lotte.

[X] Clemencia is winning at cards, again and again. Watch for a while, and perhaps once she's done, Lotte could talk to her a little. She's never met a Sepult, after all!

Basically dwarves, and... Lotte doesn't know, but kinda, yes? Lotte knows that Speakers are sorta-kinda priests of some kind, maybe.
 
[X] Go over to Guilliam, who is carousing, dancing, and singing. Perhaps join in. He's strange, and the talk of him being a heretic is unnerving, but he seems fun enough.
 
[X] Clemencia is winning at cards, again and again. Watch for a while, and perhaps once she's done, Lotte could talk to her a little. She's never met a Sepult, after all!
 
[X] Clemencia is winning at cards, again and again. Watch for a while, and perhaps once she's done, Lotte could talk to her a little. She's never met a Sepult, after all!

Sepult!
 
[X] Clemencia is winning at cards, again and again. Watch for a while, and perhaps once she's done, Lotte could talk to her a little. She's never met a Sepult, after all!
 
"Isn't Lotte a woman's name?"
"No, it's a brand of confectionaries."

[X] Oscar is clearly private and closed in, but perhaps Lotte could lure him out with talk of religion, and the task at hand.

"Hello there, heard about religion? Because I'm gonna
Oh wait let's not do pickup lines.
 
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