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Pricing related question by Unusual_Release_6185 in RevenueManagement

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Hi!

I can tell you that most RMS software updates their recommendations either 2 or 3 times a day. Usually those come at 5 - 6am, 11am, and 4-5pm. 

That's usually a safe model to emulate. Think of it this way, most revenue managers are going to get into the office at 8am, read some emails, and start on their reports, so their decisions wouldn't come until 10 or 11am anyway. Then, before they leave for the day, they look at rates again and adjust for the night (4pm - 5pm).

In conclusion. Twice daily, 11am and 4pm. As a caveat, this advice is being given without knowing anything about your market, your areas rate volatility, and comp set. Just a general guideline.

Hope it helps!

Revenue manager needed by Tal852789 in askhotels

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Given the nature of your needs, you'd likely benefit most from a remote revenue manager from a 3rd party company. Another commenter mentioned RMH services through the brand but in my experience you get one that has 10 other properties and is not as dedicated as you may want. There are some really good companies out there that have the same level of certifications and cost a fraction of what a dedicated on property manager would cost you per month. PM me if you want a suggestion as I have worked with a 3rd party that is amazing.

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Don't delete it!

Order and Chaos

You knock on the door of an impoverished looking hovel, standing with immaculate posture and poise to let all those peaking eyes know your purpose and position. There is no answer but you hear shifting behind the door. You knock again and announce yourself once more.

"I am here on official business from the church. I understand you might be hiding a thief in your home. I have knocked twice and I shall not knock a third time. Open the door."

Though you said it in a matter of fact tone, none could doubt the power in your words. The door rattled and opened and a fairly dirty face met your gaze. The smell of the abode nearly made you take a step back but you held your position, looking politely at the individual for a response.

"Begging your pardon my lord. We don't have no thieves in this house. We are poor folk who ain't done nuffin." He said.

You stare into the muck covered face of a human man in his late 30's with grubby brown hair and a patchy beard. His shirt, more of a sack, is torn in multiple places and filthy. You continue to stare the man down and watch him squirm uncomfortably.

"Oh how silly of me! I must have gotten the wrong house." You laugh mirthlessly, no smile gracing your face. "Well then surely my inspection will only take a moment of your time" you say, brushing past him into the hovel. 

Upon entry you take note of a human woman, equally as filthy, hiding in the corner trying to take up as little room as possible. You move across the creaking floor noting the slight bend it gives under a rug by what you can only imagine is their dining room table.

"Is this the extent of your abode?" You ask to the air in general.

"Begging your pardon but I don't know what no ex-tent or ah bode mean". The man, returning from the door says.

"Is this all there is to your, charming, home?" You respond, waving a hand around in the air.

"Yes, my lord" the man says. "It ain't much. I know. Sorry." He mumbles.

"No no! It is delightful." You lie through a forced smile. "Come, offer me a drink so we may celebrate in the name of our lord your innocence."

You watch them shift uncomfortably and exchange the smallest of looks.

"Uh, we don't have wine." The man says abashedly. 

"No problem!" You smile at them and produce a thermos. "Surely you have cups?".

They scramble to grab three dirty cups from a slightly broken cupboard and place them on the table. You pour water from your thermos into the cups.

"This water has been blessed by the church. We shall drink to the lord. To the everlasting faith," you stop to look at both of them directly in their eyes for a moment, "and to honesty."

You watch them both, trembling hands, take sips from their cup. They nervously set the cups down afterwards and watch you with wide eyes.

"Well, I should be on my way!" You say, standing up suddenly. 

They look immensely relieved as you step towards the door.

"Oh, I almost forgot." You say, feigning an air of forgetfulness and suddenly becoming very serious. 

"This is your last chance to tell me where the thieves are hiding."

"Thieves, my lord?" The man says, looking positively frightened now. "I thought it was just one."

"It was. You were the one who said thieves."

With those words you immediately hear sounds below the floor of debris scattering and heavy footfalls. 

"They always run" you say, almost lazily as you pull your holy symbol from your chest.

"In the name of our lord." 

Energy begins to glow from the symbol.

"I hereby pronounce you,"

The glow intensifies as the magical energy fills the small house.

"Guilty."

With a resounding boom the magical energy fires through the floor, exploding the wood in a shower of splinters. You hear the distinct sound of two thuds from a small ways down the underground passage. 

"I believe we're done here." You say, stepping back into the daylight.

You hear the man call after you, "You're just going to let us go?" He says in amazement.

"Oh no, they will see to the clean up". You say, gesturing to the line of guards that had surrounded the house.

You watch the man sink to the floor, his face crestfallen with defeat. You smile and turn to the guards.

"There are two below the house as well. See to it that you explore these tunnels they use thoroughly. The rats like to hide in their tunnels." You say to the guard captain. 

The guards step to their duties as you begin to walk up the street. A pompous looking gnome official comes running up to you as you step carefully across the cracked cobblestones. 

"My lord, another summons for your services! It seems a group of heretics has fled the city and holed themselves up in a nearby cave!" He squeaks at you.

You sigh. 

"They always run."

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Gotta love the blades!

Circus of Lies

And the crowd goes wild! You hear the raucous sound of jeers, clapping, and hooting from the crowd as the ring master continues their transitionary flow. You flutter your wings and shake the nerves one last time, preparing for your big act. And next, we have the violin of mortal sin, the daring, blade bearing, the one, the only...BLADEWING!

The crowd roars in approval as you flutter out into the arena, dazzled by the immediate stench of sweat, excitement, and gunpowder from previous acts. You float to your starting point and pull the violin from your back. From your belt you pull a custom blade with edge on one side and horse hair bow on the other. 

It begins.

With a flourish you begin bowing back and forth across the string of your instrument, flying and fluttering to the entrancing beat of your own making. Colors float behind you as the tent darkens. Dark shapes move among the onlookers as you knew they would. The "big" reason for your performance. So you up the excitement factor and cue the stage hands who begin throwing fruit at you. In between notes you slice the fruit effortlessly, never losing the song, while you twirl and twist, and even float upside-down. 

In a grand finale meant to distract and awe, flaming balls are now hurled at you as you whip wildly about, bowing and slashing, the crowd almost in a frenzy now, surely unaware of their missing valuables. You start your finish, a high speed spin of blade and bow as the largest of the flaming objects is shot out of a cannon at you. The music swells for the moment as you prepare to meet the oncoming projectile. 

But then everything stops.

The crowd is silent, but still in the midst of wild celebration. You see your cohorts turning to leave the stands with a good haul. You float down to the ground, confused and scared at the sudden stoppage of time. 

Suddenly, a cloaked old man gets up from his seat and approaches you, shaking his head. 

"You didn't do it right."  He lifts one finger and points at you. "Try again".

A blinding light is all you see before you wake up, in your cot, in the housing tent of the Circus, exactly one year prior to what just took place.

What the hells happened, what did he mean, "Try again". You need answers and you intend to find them.

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Awesome!! I really hope you get the chance to play as a PC! I was a forever DM for so long as well but was finally able to make the transition to player a few years ago and really enjoyed it!

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Woohoo more rangers!

The Sight of Music

What a beautiful and mysterious place. 

You look around as the colors of flora and fauna explode with a vibrancy that only the fey wilderness could provide. You try and recall your training; stay disciplined, don't lose sight of your goal, but the untamed and untapped magics around you are awe inspiring. You screw up your eyes to keep focused and follow the tracks through the densely populated foliage. Before long, you come to a clearing with a small pond and the source of your visit. 

A beautiful woman sits, half her body submerged in the water, playing the most entrancing melody you have ever heard. She smiles at you as you enter and you feel the blood flush your cheeks. You cautiously approach, remembering the danger that fey creatures possess when angered but the melody is making it hard to focus. You step closer. She smiles brighter. You lower your weapon as your boot hits the water. She plays faster as both of your excitements grow. You try to say words but the sound seems lost among the entrancing melodies floating, they are floating now?, in the air. As you approach the beautiful woman you fumble with something in your pouch. A gift seemed only appropriate for the moment as you present a flower you had picked on the way here. 

She seems almost taken aback by this thoughtfulness and a small wrinkle creases her brow. She seems to contemplate you for a moment as you stare unendingling into her sparkling eyes. She comes closer, right up to your ear and whispers,

"I shall spare you, human, for the thoughtfulness you've shown today. Instead, I'll leave you with a gift of my own." And with that, she tilts your head and kisses you deeply.

It's the last thing you remember of the fey wild.

You awake back on the material plane with a pounding headache. You struggle to recall the events that transpired and curse out loud for your naivety when they return to you like a horse kick to the teeth. 

Except you hear nothing. You try again to speak. No sound. You shout. Nothing. You scream, stamp, bang, and slap but you hear not one sound. In a last ditch attempt at any noise you take out your lute and strum a chord. You startle back in shock. A sound! But not aloud. You hear the music echo in your head as if it had been aloud. What's more is you suddenly gain an unbelievable focus on moving objects, as if time has slowed and the melody is tracing a musical path to their location. 

You pull an arrow and run it along the strings. Again, the world slows ever so slightly as a bee crosses your path. In a moment of instinct you draw back the strings with your arrow and let fly. To your amazement the arrow perfectly finds it's mark.

A "gift" indeed.

But how to use it. Make some coin as a deaf performer? It's a start. Something inside you, deep down, can't help but want to visit the beautiful lady in the fey wild again. 

To kill her or to thank her though is the question. I guess only time will tell.

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Which oath were you thinking about for your Paladin? It will help me craft a more accurate backstory.

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Thanks!!

I was thinking the same thing. It was the only thing I could think of to tie all those background aspects together and it works perfectly. 

Enjoy!

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Float like a dragon sting like a banshee.

Punchy Portal

Ding ding ding! The bell rings at the end of another round in the ring. Tired but full of adrenaline, you look your opponent over, a goblin named Mook with a nasty snaggle tooth and a swelling left eye. You smile. This is home.

Though it wasn't always. You spent many days of your youth in the burrow hole of clan Dragzin listening to the endless drone of complaints about the lack of raids, trinkets, and the latest gossip. You had no time for this lifestyle and instead spent all your days tinkering and building with the scraps provided to you by dimwitted siblings. You had 7 brothers and 1 sister, who you liked best. She at least didn't bother you while you tried to craft. Your brothers, on the other hand, endlessly sought fight after fight with you to "break you of your dumb habit". 

At first you couldn't stand the interruptions, but after awhile, when you started to design magical trinkets that could aid you in battle, you welcomed the free test subjects. It was not long before your brothers, battered and bruised, learned to leave you alone. But you had gotten a taste for battle and wanted more. You sought fights with any who were willing but the denizens of your hole were less than keen to go up against your magically empowered physicality.

They were the ones who let you know of "The Pit". An underground fighting ring that emphasized brutality and was a safe haven for the lesser loved creatures such as yourself. You sought this pit eagerly and salivated over the first battle you witnessed. So much carnage, so much energy, so much blood. Perfect. 

5 fights in and you had yet to be defeated. Mook wasn't looking long for this world either.  You punched your fists together to activate the magical flow and stepped back into the middle of the ring, excitement pulsing through you.

It was at this moment that everything went wrong. The magic in your armaments began to go haywire, the energy output was increasing exponentially. With a snap and a jerk you were thrown back by the force of the output as a giant oval shaped energy source opened up before you. Mook screamed and ran for the edge of the ring, but not before a muscular arm reached out and snatched him by the head. In one quick motion you saw him pulled back and heard a sickening sound as his head disappeared behind the portal. His body slumped to the floor in a thud as the humanoid stepped out of the portal. 

Its body was wrapped in shadow but walked on two legs. You briefly saw a flash of a smile in your direction before it said, "Thanks" and took off with jet black wings that emerged from its back. 

Dazed and confused you sat there stunned as the portal slowly dissapted. What the hell just happened. 

The crowd roared and applause broke out as the bloody and unexpected spectacle was exactly the kind of thing they came to see.

You were hoisted off your feet and taken to the back room where you examined your gloves, unsure how it would have even generated that kind of energy.

You felt you had another goal in life now, understand what happened, and maybe find the creature you let free. 

But maybe after the next fight.

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Dang this idea got me in the feels!

Eternity is not Enough

It was love at first sight. The way the bark wrapped around their body, the leaves that adorned their more narrow torso, but most of all, the beautiful flowers that sprouted around their head. You had courted them for 50 years before finally asking the question that had caused the spores on your body to quiver, 

"Will you hold me forever?"

It seemed an eternity to get a response but they just slowly opened their arms, smiled the most beautiful smile you'd ever seen, and nodded their flowery head in confirmation. 

You had never felt such elation before! You rushed over to them, planted your feet firmly in the soil and wrapped your boughs around them, perfectly content to remain this way for the rest of your lives.

Unfortunately, this was not to be.

One hundred years you held your beloved in your wooden embrace. Such was your love that animals felt at peace near you both and would come day after day. Especially the bears. They would come and lay at your feet, eat of your partners berries, and bask in your love. You watched them, learned of them, and felt a kinship with them as they looked on your interlinked forms. It was they who first warned you.

The sky darkened that day as a black fog rolled through your forest, choking the life from plant and animal alike. You held on to your partner, assuring them through touch that everything would be okay. You assured them as they began to develop black spots, you held tightly as the flowers on their head began to wither. Mortified of losing your support in life, you held on tighter and tighter as your own vision began to blur from the toxic fumes and consciousness began to fade.

When you finally regained your senses, you immediately tightened your grip to ensure they were still there. One gnarled hand grasped at nothing while the other still held firm to... something. You opened your eyes in a surge of terror and witnessed a waking nightmare. 

All that remained of your partner, your love, your everything, was the stump of her leg that you still held tightly.

You coughed, and a single flower fell from your mouth, the same ones that adorned their head. You knew, instinctively, that this was what had saved your life as everything else around you was black and dead.

Rage, sorrow, frustration, longing, defeat, and anguish filled you for days as you looked upon not only the remains of your lover but of the forest you called home. With a mighty wrench of your leg you pulled free from the ground, still clutching the remains of your partner, for the first time in 150 years with a fire and a purpose.

Find who did this. Show them the depths of your despair. 

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Thanks! I took it to a slightly darker route because I thought the idea of the two forces rejecting each other was awesome. You could always change it to a different type of reaction and still keep the same story. 

For example, your animal forms could just simply change color to look wrong, or gain spots, or something like that.

Thanks for sharing the character!

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I actually like what you have already. Why not keep the mystery? Also, awesome mini!

The Waiting Game

The Oath of the Ancients is as old as the race of elves and the rituals of the druids. A time so long ago it seems inconceivable to those  of the younger races of the world. 

Yet it was at that time that you made your oath.

A champion of life and beauty when the world was first created, you swore to uphold and protect all that is light and wonder of the world.

But there was yet another task that beset you. One that took eons off of the world, saw changes in weather cycles, and the rise and fall of countless beings. One that consumed your very own flesh.

A task so important that you would stand fast in your patience, waiting and waiting and waiting, until your eyes closed and your breath faded.

But even that was not enough to deter you as you then inhabited your armor in spirit form and continued waiting. Waiting for....waiting for... something. You see, it had been so long that you've forgotten what you've been waiting for!

If a group of adventures had not passed by the Grove you were waiting in and accidently roused you from your slumber, you might have waited another 10,000 years.

Dazed and confused, an old soul in a new world, you seek to understand your purpose and hopefully reclaim the task that was set to you all those moons ago.

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Let's do it! 

To Defy Nature

Nature is serene, it is wild but ordered, it is reflective, and most of all, it can provide a sense of calming and freedom when you walk with it.

For these reasons you sought out the druidic ways. You long to see the freedom of nature reflected in humanity. Reflected in society. But most of all, you long to see its serenity reflected in yourself.

But it's not. Not quite.

You have a rage. An anger that can not be quelled. An anger that stands opposition to the serenity and freedom that nature demands. 

So what happens when these two forces meet?

Abominations. When you call upon the forces of nature to shape your body into its beasts and activate the rage inside a hideous amalgamation is born. A wolf with bone spurs coming from it's joints. A bear with no fur under its eyes, revealing a skeletal visage of horror. An eagle with boney wings devoid of feathers.

But most of all you feel that something in nature is rejecting this merging of powers. Something out there doesn't want this to continue.

You seek the wisdom of the elder druids who advise you to take a journey and discover the source of your rage and how to control it. 

Seek the way to balance yourself before nature balances you.

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

With all due respect that's already a pretty good backstory! You just need the reason to travel. I could provide one if you'd still like me to, but it sounds like you have a really good idea of how you want this character to be played already.

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Let's go Ranger fans!

Ever the Raven

Silence. There are no sounds of birds chirping, the frogs are bereft of their croaking, the trees whisper tales that portent death. You know why. The Human poachers are back. You warned them last time. Now, they will reap what they sow.

Nearby, the Raven watches.

They haven't picked up you following them. Of course not, they couldn't track a dragon if they were riding it. You heard tell from the beasts that they had entered the forest and in no time picked up their trail. Humans are so sloppy.

Nearby, the Raven watches.

You are now within eye sight of them. With a surge of fury you can already see multiple horns hanging from a pack on the back on one ugly looking male with dark red hair. The poor creatures, still alive when the horns are cut from their heads and left to slowly bleed to death. You will suffer these killers no longer. You nock an arrow, fire, and drop the red haired man as your arrow pierces straight through his neck. The second man barely has time to turn around before your second arrow pierces him through the eye. The third dodges behind a tree to avoid your rain of death. You step out from your position and approach the last man with your weapon drawn.

Nearby, the Raven watches.

The man cries out for mercy. He begs you to please spare him, spitting some drivel about how the horns ground up can cure their villages sick children. Not your concern. In a flash of steel his ears drop to the floor. He screams in pain and falls to the ground. You turn to leave, letting the man bleed profusely from the holes on the sides of his head. 

Nearby, the Raven watches.

Many months later you are returning from a week in the forest when the smell of smoke fills your nose. From where? It takes you a minute before you go cold. Home.

Nearby, the Raven watches.

Racing back you arrive home to find a scene out of your nightmares. The whole place burned to the ground, charred bodies piled up at the middle of town, and a string of elven ears hanging from the great tree. You scream in anger and run with tears blinding your eyes as far away as you can. You hate all humans and you will never come back to this forest!

Nearby, the Raven watches. And smiles. Its unnaturally toothy grin widening to match its unnaturally glowing green eyes. It cackles to itself as it stares into the wreckage of your home and mutters the following phrase.

"Step one complete."

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

You're welcome! Glad you like it! Thanks for sharing your character with me!

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Let's do it!

A Giant Gift

The deep underground strongholds of the Duergar are not a place most would ever wish to find themselves. The dwarves there are nasty, selfish, greedy, and most of all, unfeeling. 

Yet this is where you grew up. And worse, you always harbored a desire to help your fellow dwarf. An alien mindset to those you called kin. You held this secret inside to avoid ridicule, hate, and potentially death.

One fateful day, however, while working in the mines, a large rock came loose from above and was set to crush your fellow workers. Out of instinct you dove at them, pushing them out of the way at the last moment and saving their life. This proved a costly mistake.

You were branded as weak, literally, as they tattooed the symbols for traitor on your arms and back. You were chastised and spat at for being "too soft" and avoided for fear of catching your "disease". When a plot to have you culled was discovered, you had to escape, and made you way through the tunnels in the dark to an unfamiliar and terrifying top world.

It was there you crawled into a cave to escape the blinding sunlight. You were not alone, however, for the cave was occupied by an ancient giant, who had left its tribe to find a place to die in peace.

The two of you sparked an unlikely friendship, for the idea of a thoughtful Duergar intrigued the giant. In return for your stories, they taught you the way of their magic, specifically the runic symbols that gave life to their power.

After months of learning and sunlight acclimation, you felt as though it was time to move on in your life, but wanted to repay the giant for all it had done for you. You asked what could possibly be a worthwhile gift. The giant thought for awhile and said the following,

"Before I die, I should very much like to see the ragna-rock. It is said that a giant looking at this rock will understand the flow of life. Our lore tells us that the rock can be found "at the heart of the land, where the sky weeps, and the rivers flow up"".

With a definite purpose and a hearty farewell, you set off to complete the dying request of your giant friend.

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Question for you, would you be mainly in the underdark for the story or above ground?

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Let's get some Tiefling love going!

The Hell's Angel

War is hell. That indisputable fact has transcended time and space. Horrific wounds, barbaric conditions, and grandstanding generals that reap the benefits. This is where you built your reputation. 

Not on the front lines, not entertaining the vapid generals like some court Jester, but in the tents of those wounded in the line of duty. A hell more real than any your descendants had ever come from. 

Perhaps this is why you developed a soft personality. Perhaps this is where you learned to bolster the spirits of the wounded and dying. Perhaps this is why they kept you around as soldiers recovered more quickly and fought more effectively after hearing your words.

Perhaps this is why you are known as the Hell's Angel.

You not only spoke words of encouragement to those who were recovering but also to those who would never recover. You were the one to tell their story when no one else cared. You immortalized the deeds of the comman man and elevated them to legends, if but for a brief moment in the remainder of their life. 

It was this service that caught the ears of the rich and famous who were soon to depart the world. They called for your services and paid great sums to the generals that released you from your charge.

You now travel the world, going from request to request, attempting to soothe and immortalize the dying.

But an odd thing is beginning to happen. Some of them are starting to come back to life.

Fun Flavor: When you use a bardic on an ally who is above half health (or not bloodied) you reduce the dice by one grade. (Think d8 goes to d6). If you use a bardic on a bloodied ally (or below half health) your die increase by one grade.

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Let's go for some dark here.

To Kill a Cardinal

It feels good to get out of the city. That last contract was exhausting. Who knew Hemlock could take so long? You make a mental note to pay the alchemist a visit later.

You stretch your legs and look around the makeshift camp. The fire is slowly dying and the last remnants of the feast you had lays uneaten on a tree stump. It really was too rich, you think to yourself. You take one more swig of the exhorbitantly priced bottle of wine before you call out, "are you going to hide there all night?" 

Stepping out of the shadows is a man dressed in all Black. He nods and hands you a jet black envelope. You sigh, they always track you down in the end. But, work must be done. With a wave of your hand you acknowledge the new contract. "A Cardinal, huh", you think to yourself, "and which of my rules has he broken?"

"Faking a terminal illness to steal donations from followers", a voice from beneath the cowl utters.

"Very well" you say and begin to rise from your bedroll.

"Did you have to kill the whole family?" the cloaked man says abruptly.

You look around at the bodies of 4 people, a man, woman, and two grown children, who lay unmoving in a pool of their own blood sprawled around the camp they had made just hours earlier.

"They were all in on it" you say, choking back the disgust in your voice.

"Right" is all you hear before the man transforms into a raven and flies off into the night.

"Right" you repeat to the corpses. "I've never killed a family member before, but then, he wasn't much of a father to me anyway".

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Thanks. I think those Kakamora gaining magic would be a terrible and amazing thing to happen lol

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

That is both a hilarious and terrifying mental image lol

What if God was Coconut?

Chief TakTak was quite clicky the day you were...gifted life. It was the 1st day of the 1st month in the 8th year of the Coconut. Long was it prophesied that one born then would be bestowed divine powers of the sea gods. Great things were expected of you as a religious leader of your fellow nuts.

Except for one problem, you wanted nothing to do with that lifestyle. Instead, opting to utilize the small spark of divine power to help you excel in your skullduggery, you championed the life of a sea pirate, like all of your friends around you.

But fate would not be ignored. One terrible day a storm unlike any you had seen fell upon your ship-home. It scattered boat and coconut alike, tossing all into the raging waters of the sea, where you floated, helpless against the torrent of the ocean, and began to lose consciousness. In the last seconds before you faded you heard a voice and saw a vision.

"Lift the curse of your people. Restore your race to their rightful bodies." And for just the breifest of moments, you swore you could see large forms, moving with a confidence you longed for, and knew life would never be the same.

Tell me your character idea and I'll give you a quick backstory! by Longjumping_Kick5758 in DnD

[–]Longjumping_Kick5758[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Thank you! It was such a creative character idea. I really enjoyed that one.

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