Osna the Clever - Finding the Sunset

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pocketlint60
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Osna the Clever - Finding the Sunset

Unread post by pocketlint60 » Sun Apr 15, 2018 6:42 am

A daughter of Moradin walks alone. Sunlight casts on her face for the first time in her life as she flees westward, away from a home she's never left before. Smoke plumes rise from the mountain where she was born, signs of fires in the city where she was raised. She knows that the blood of her people stains the streets she spent the past five decades of her life roaming, the markets where she bought her first dress, and the temple where her oldest brother was married just last year. When you're walking alone with the nearest town miles away, the only thing you have to keep yourself busy are memories of home.

That home was Kazkar, The Blue Citadel. It earned it's name for the vast deposits of Lapis Lazuli below. It's people were Clan Sonnskar, or Bluestone. The Dwarves of Clan Sonnskar were never large in number or reputation, but the skill of their jewelers were never in doubt. They carved a quietly proud life in their corner of the Sunset Mountains, selling goods that reached the markets westward to the Sword Coast. The people lived peacefully, assured that they were beneath the notice of monstrous hordes seeking treasure troves of iron or gold.

The daughter of Moradin sits at a makeshift camp and wonders if they were right to think so. She always believed they were safe, but not safe enough that she shouldn't know how to defend herself. Her family would rather she spent her free time learning how to tend the home, but when she wasn't busy in study (reading half of the world's poems while teaching herself Elvish to read the other half) she was training with the priest of Clangeddin, the Alaghor. But she never truly believed she would need the skills he taught. She wasn't her father, after all.

Dwarven Kings lead their armies personally, and the lords of the Sonnskar Clan were no exception. Neither were the Sonnskar Queens, whose role was to tend to the Hold itself. Dwarven men outnumber the women two to one, so the decision to keep them at home was a pragmatic one, not born of prejudice. Whether or not that was still true was a discussion that wasn't being had. Small holds like Kazkar prefered to stick to tradition.

The daughter of Moradin can't decide where she stands on the topic. She genuinely enjoyed the courtly life, and was proud knowing she was part of a grand and venerable practice that her mother and her mother before her had been a part of. But she could never escape the desire to see the things that made poets write so passionately about them. She had considered, once or twice, telling her family she wanted to be an adventurer like the people she met at the markets, but was never sure if her father would approve. Ultimately she did what all Dwarves are taught to do: their duties. Yet here she is, and she isn't even sure what forced her out here in the first place.

She first heard the screams echoing out of the mines, up past the palace and into the market place. Then she saw the fires and heard her father putting on his armor. She was practically out of the Hold by the time she saw even the slightest glimpse of the perpetrators. Whoever they were, they were the size and possibly even shape of Dwarves. She only saw them silhouetted against billowing smoke, and their bodies didn't stand out as much as their weapons: gnarled, grotesque blades with rigidly angular designs. They looked like they were designed to be painful, not just harmful. It took effort not to imagine what those weapons were doing to her people as she ran away from them, but couldn't help but feel some relief as she reached the other end of the escape tunnel and saw the sun.

The daughter of Moradin walks onward for the fifteenth day in a row. She thumbs at the sword on her belt. The training weapon on her back bumps against her with each ragged step. She found larger weapons unwieldy and didn't have the upper-arm strength for a shield, but she managed surprisingly well with a defensive weapon in her off-hand. She had been lucky not to use either yet, but she is glad she knows how. Once again she can't stop herself from looking back. She can't see the mountain anymore, but that doesn't stop her from wondering if the Alaghor made it out alive.

The Alaghor is named Byrngul. He believed his princess when she said she would take responsibility if her father was upset about the training. He also believed that the world was dangerous, and anyone who wished to fight for good and justice should learn. The protection of the Hold was always his top priority. After all, he was the one who went to the king to formulate Kazkar's evacuation plan; he outlined the road to Kraak Helzek, they largest Hold less than a month's travel away. Training the princess to fight was just another safety measure. She was crafty. She had been trained to watch subtle cues in people's behavior, he decided, that's why she catches onto tells so easily. He started calling her his clever girl: Brakvinn. All the greatest heroes had epitaphs, after all.

The daughter of Moradin is named is Osna Sonnskar, also called Osna Brakvinn. Without Byrngor's planning and training, she wouldn't be here. But her ladylike upbringing taught her eyes to stay sharp, and the tradition of protecting women and children first got her out in one piece. Ultimately, she decides to that there was no point thinking about it until she does what she has to do: travel to Kraak Helzek and find her family.
___________________________________________________________________________

First Name: Osna
Last Name: Sonnskar
Epitaph: Brakvinn

Appearance: Youthful, on the cusp of adulthood. Incredibly pale, indicating her near complete lack of exposure to the sun. This highlights her bulb-like red nose. She wears a simple robe with a hooded cloak, perfect for withstanding long treks and hiding easily sunburnt skin during the day. Her armor (for now) is a simple chainmail shirt, the only thing she could carry with her when she fled home. Her helmet is slightly loose, as she bought it in Baldur's Gate and it's fitted for a human head.
Race: Shield Dwarf
Age: 56
Height 4'2''
Weight: 133 lbs.
Eyes: Dark Brown
Hair: Red

Personality Profile: Demure and quiet, but not a pushover. She has the demeanor of someone who only expected to be the last choice for making important decisions, but still had to be ready to make them. Less vocally proud of her Dwarven heritage, since she barely knows anything about life outside it. Her unexpected grace and confidence in battle is the only hint at her slight rebellious streak.
General Health: Physically healthy. Naturally lean but a bit plump due to her noble upbringing. Mentally sound, though unprepared for what's happened to her. Surviving pretty well, considering.
Deity: Berronar Truesilver by obligation, Clangeddin Silverbeard by choice.
Initial Alignment: Lawful Good, Neutral Leaning.
Profession: Princess. Amateur Fencer.
Base Class & Proposed Development: Swashbuckler.
Habits/Hobbies: Sewing, Weaving, Reading Poetry...and Swordplay.
Languages: Dwarvish, Common. Can read some Elvish.
Weapon of Choice: She carries two weapons: A shortsword with Dethek rune written along it's blade that hangs off her hilt, and a longsword she wears on her back that is of obviously human origin, especially considering the symbol of Ilmater engraved onto it. Her combat style is surprisingly agile and quick for a dwarf, and especially for one so untempered by battle. She fights defensively, preferring to draw out weaknesses in enemy technique, as she lacks the experience to know when to press her advantage.

Background: Osna was raised as the youngest daughter of a noble family would be: under the assumption that only a husband in high places would give her real power. She learned how to sew, how to weave, how to keep house at the temple of Berronar. But in the rare occasion she had spare time, she spent it at the temple of Clangeddin, training with a pair of training swords. She isn't exactly counter-culture, she simply dislikes the idea of cowering in the face of danger. She doesn't seek to be something different than a proper lady so much as something more than one.
Goals: Find the rest of the Sonnskar royal line. Failing that, find adventurers and warriors willing to search for them.
Possible Plot-Hook Ideas: Osna doesn't know for sure who it was that attacked Kazkar and she doesn't know what she'll do when she finds out. Worst of all, she has reason to suspect that the assailants came from her own people. All the while she'll have to consider whether she wants to return to that quiet life as a lady, or continue fighting and travelling.
Misc Facts: Osna was inspired by and is something like a combination of Arya and Sansa Stark from A Song of Ice and Fire: A young and inexperienced woman who was content to settle for her lot in life, but with some unorthodox masculine interests. Tragedy forces her to take action unexpectedly, and her romanticized version of the way of life she wanted will be challenged by what lies ahead of her. Like the Starks, Osna and her people speak with Yorkshire accents instead of the more typical Scottish ones.
Last edited by pocketlint60 on Sun May 13, 2018 2:32 am, edited 1 time in total.

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DM Boo
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Re: Osna the Clever - Finding the Sunset

Unread post by DM Boo » Mon Apr 16, 2018 4:07 am

Hey pocketlint60,

Thanks for sending this in!

It all looks fine to me, but I'll pass it on to the other DM's as well to make sure there isn't anything I've missed.

We generally dissuade people from playing characters who have active ties to nobility (since they should not be afforded any power that any other PC would not have), but we do allow minor noble connections to be included into a character's backstory as long as it no longer provides them with any advantage. It looks like you've met all these requirements however, so everything should be great!

Thank you,
DM Boo
2014, 2017 Campaign Coordinator
"Go for the eyes, Boo, go for the eyes!"

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DM Mimic
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Re: Osna the Clever - Finding the Sunset

Unread post by DM Mimic » Wed Apr 18, 2018 7:35 pm

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pocketlint60 wrote:A daughter of Moradin walks alone. Sunlight casts on her face for the first time in her life as she flees westward, away from a home she's never left before. Smoke plumes rise from the mountain where she was born, signs of fires in the city where she was raised. She knows that the blood of her people stains the streets she spent the past five decades of her life roaming, the markets where she bought her first dress, and the temple where her oldest brother was married just last year. When you're walking alone with the nearest town miles away, the only thing you have to keep yourself busy are memories of home.

That home was Kazkar, The Blue Citadel. It earned it's name for the vast deposits of Lapis Lazuli below. It's people were Clan Sonnskar, or Bluestone. The Dwarves of Clan Sonnskar were never large in number or reputation, but the skill of their jewelers were never in doubt. They carved a quietly proud life in their corner of the Sunset Mountains, selling goods that reached the markets westward to the Sword Coast. The people lived peacefully, assured that they were beneath the notice of monstrous hordes seeking treasure troves of iron or gold.

The daughter of Moradin sits at a makeshift camp and wonders if they were right to think so. She always believed they were safe, but not safe enough that she shouldn't know how to defend herself. Her family would rather she spent her free time learning how to tend the home, but when she wasn't busy in study (reading half of the world's poems while teaching herself Elvish to read the other half) she was training with the priest of Clangeddin, the Alaghor. But she never truly believed she would need the skills he taught. She wasn't her father, after all.

Dwarven Kings lead their armies personally, and the lords of the Sonnskar Clan were no exception. Neither were the Sonnskar Queens, whose role was to tend to the Hold itself. Dwarven men outnumber the women two to one, so the decision to keep them at home was a pragmatic one, not born of prejudice. Whether or not that was still true was a discussion that wasn't being had. Small holds like Kazkar prefered to stick to tradition.

The daughter of Moradin can't decide where she stands on the topic. She genuinely enjoyed the courtly life, and was proud knowing she was part of a grand and venerable practice that her mother and her mother before her had been a part of. But she could never escape the desire to see the things that made poets write so passionately about them. She had considered, once or twice, telling her family she wanted to be an adventurer like the people she met at the markets, but was never sure if her father would approve. Ultimately she did what all Dwarves are taught to do: their duties. Yet here she is, and she isn't even sure what forced her out here in the first place.

She first heard the screams echoing out of the mines, up past the palace and into the market place. Then she saw the fires and heard her father putting on his armor. She was practically out of the Hold by the time she saw even the slightest glimpse of the perpetrators. Whoever they were, they were the size and possibly even shape of Dwarves. She only saw them silhouetted against billowing smoke, and their bodies didn't stand out as much as their weapons: gnarled, grotesque blades with rigidly angular designs. They looked like they were designed to be painful, not just harmful. It took effort not to imagine what those weapons were doing to her people as she ran away from them, but couldn't help but feel some relief as she reached the other end of the escape tunnel and saw the sun.

The daughter of Moradin walks onward for the fifteenth day in a row. She thumbs at the sword on her belt. The training weapon on her back bumps against her with each ragged step. She found larger weapons unwieldy and didn't have the upper-arm strength for a shield, but she managed surprisingly well with a defensive weapon in her off-hand. She had been lucky not to use either yet, but she is glad she knows how. Once again she can't stop herself from looking back. She can't see the mountain anymore, but that doesn't stop her from wondering if the Alaghor made it out alive.

The Alaghor is named Byrngul. He believed his princess when she said she would take responsibility if her father was upset about the training. He also believed that the world was dangerous, and anyone who wished to fight for good and justice should learn. The protection of the Hold was always his top priority. After all, he was the one who went to the king to formulate Kazkar's evacuation plan; he outlined the road to Kraak Helzek, they largest Hold less than a month's travel away. Training the princess to fight was just another safety measure. She was crafty. She had been trained to watch subtle cues in people's behavior, he decided, that's why she catches onto tells so easily. He started calling her his clever girl: Brakvinn. All the greatest heroes had epitaphs, after all.

The daughter of Moradin is named is Osna Sonnskar, also called Osna Brakvinn. Without Byrngor's planning and training, she wouldn't be here. But her ladylike upbringing taught her eyes to stay sharp, and the tradition of protecting women and children first got her out in one piece. Ultimately, she decides to that there was no point thinking about it until she does what she has to do: travel to Kraak Helzek and find her family.
___________________________________________________________________________

First Name: Osna
Last Name: Sonnskar
Epitaph: Brakvinn

Appearance: Youthful, on the cusp of adulthood. Incredibly pale, indicating her near complete lack of exposure to the sun. This highlights her bulb-like red nose. She wears a simple robe with a hooded cloak, perfect for withstanding long treks and hiding easily sunburnt skin during the day. Her armor (for now) is a simple chainmail shirt, the only thing she could carry with her when she fled home. Her helmet is slightly loose, as she bought it in Baldur's Gate and it's fitted for a human head.
Race: Shield Dwarf
Age: 56
Height 4'2''
Weight: 133 lbs.
Eyes: Dark Brown
Hair: Red

Personality Profile: Demure and quiet, but not a pushover. She has the demeanor of someone who only expected to be the last choice for making important decisions, but still had to be ready to make them. Less vocally proud of her Dwarven heritage, since she barely knows anything about life outside it. Her unexpected grace and confidence in battle is the only hint at her slight rebellious streak.
General Health: Physically healthy. Naturally lean but a bit plump due to her noble upbringing. Mentally sound, though unprepared for what's happened to her. Surviving pretty well, considering.
Deity: Berronar Truesilver by obligation, Clangeddin Silverbeard by choice.
Initial Alignment: Lawful Good, Neutral Leaning.
Profession: Princess. Amateur Fencer.
Base Class & Proposed Development: Swashbuckler.
Habits/Hobbies: Sewing, Weaving, Reading Poetry...and Swordplay.
Languages: Dwarvish, Common. Can read some Elvish.
Weapon of Choice: She carries two weapons: A shortsword with Dethek rune written along it's blade that hangs off her hilt, and a longsword she wears on her back that is of obviously human origin, especially considering the symbol of Ilmater engraved onto it. Her combat style is surprisingly agile and quick for a dwarf, and especially for one so untempered by battle. She fights defensively, preferring to draw out weaknesses in enemy technique, as she lacks the experience to know when to press her advantage.

Background: Osna was raised as the youngest daughter of a noble family would be: under the assumption that only a husband in high places would give her real power. She learned how to sew, how to weave, how to keep house at the temple of Berronar. But in the rare occasion she had spare time, she spent it at the temple of Clangeddin, training with a pair of training swords. She isn't exactly counter-culture, she simply dislikes the idea of cowering i case of danger. She doesn't seek to be something different than a proper lady so much as something more than one.
Goals: Find the rest of the Karaskar royal line. Failing that, find adventurers and warriors willing to search for them.
Possible Plot-Hook Ideas: Osna doesn't know for sure who it was that attacked Kazkar and she doesn't know what she'll do when she finds out. Worst of all, she has reason to suspect that the assailants came from her own people. All the while she'll have to consider whether she wants to return to that quiet life as a lady, or continue fighting and travelling.
Misc Facts: Osna was inspired by and is something like a combination of Arya and Sansa Stark from A Song of Ice and Fire: A young and inexperienced woman who was content to settle for her lot in life, but with some unorthodox masculine interests. Tragedy forces her to take action unexpectedly, and her romanticized version of the way of life she wanted will be challenged by what lies ahead of her. Like the Starks, Osna and her people speak with Yorkshire accents instead of the more typical Scottish ones.
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