ChadHale
February 20th, 2017, 22:46
I know there are GM's looking for players.
I am a player, but I do not know where to start.
I don't know whose group I might gel with best.
So I'd figured I would share my playing style and character designs with you all.
Gender: 10000000000000% hetero male. I play male characters that reflect an idealized version of myself when I was much younger.
Alignment: Lawful good, but makes mistakes. I am human, I err. If there is a small canoe and the party has to get off the island because the bad guys are getting away... I will take the boat. I will not waste time to search for the owner and then haggle over a price.
Moral code: My characters strive towards the goals of modern chivalry. No boasting, no self gratification, no ego, selfless service to others, respect is given by my and not received until others deemed I have earned it, Restraint and consideration - the needs of others must come first.
I try to follow this, but I fail... a lot. hence my characters tend to have their "code of honor" trained into them by having failed at a number of hard life lessons.
Character background Exile - Why? unrequited love and the monster inside me.
As a Younger man in school, I was terribly infatuated with a lovely lady whom was out of my league. Way back then she looked much like annasophia robb. I tended to look like "rick hunter" with acne. I was too flustered to ever speak to her. She clearly did not like me: too thin? too poor? no attraction? I didn't care. I liked her and longed to know her as a friend, a confidant, and one day as a lover. One evening after a glorious bout on the game field...
She was being accosted by another who was bent on much more craven actions - I tried to stop him. Things got violent. Fast. He was bigger, much more powerful, a better fighter, and armed.
...He was winning, I bore a number of wounds and was not going to last much longer. Something snapped within me, I experienced something beyond my ken. My foe was sent sprawling, convulsing, eyes rolling uncontrollably, blood running from his nostrils. Somehow, I had won the fight. I had done something dark and terrible. I will never understand, and pray that I never will again.
I was in a bad way. He was... worse. She, was terrified, shaking and crying. I looked to her and she looked at me with such horror...
Someone had called the authorities. Help did come. I had much more credit than I needed to leave school, and was bade to by the administration. My family did not stand by me. The girl I had longed to know, was running from me. I would never see her again. In her eyes, I was no hero. I was a monster.
I moved out. I joined the military.
I, looked back years later. what had become of us?
The toolshed, had grown up to make $5k a month at the lumber mill and dabbled in drugs, until the addiction had cost him his job. I found on microfiche a newspaper article about his arrest: He and a few other junkies had broken into his grandmother's home to steal, to pay for their next hit. They had killed his grandmother.
The girl? She had gotten married in college. She would have two boys. She would be happy. I had learned from her father, for her to stay happy I could never see her again.
Me, I became a part of something. something that no one will ever believe. then it was over. Discover magazine had a small sidebar article about "the C.I.A.'s psychic spies" almost twenty years ago. I liked how it never mentioned all of the other "implauisblity denied" programs run by the rest of the alphabet soup groups." 'cause everyone knows that psychic powers aren't real, pfft! shyaa, right!"
***************************
In mythic game terms: my character young and infatuated, tries save a tavern maid from debauchery at the rapacious paws of a half orc squire. The squire is killed. The town watch, The blackheart knight, and a few nobles; all called for my head to freed of my neck. My character fled to a port city, stowed away, and sailed to start a new life elsewhere.
for this reason my characters are often rogue like, and psychic in some way.
I am a player, but I do not know where to start.
I don't know whose group I might gel with best.
So I'd figured I would share my playing style and character designs with you all.
Gender: 10000000000000% hetero male. I play male characters that reflect an idealized version of myself when I was much younger.
Alignment: Lawful good, but makes mistakes. I am human, I err. If there is a small canoe and the party has to get off the island because the bad guys are getting away... I will take the boat. I will not waste time to search for the owner and then haggle over a price.
Moral code: My characters strive towards the goals of modern chivalry. No boasting, no self gratification, no ego, selfless service to others, respect is given by my and not received until others deemed I have earned it, Restraint and consideration - the needs of others must come first.
I try to follow this, but I fail... a lot. hence my characters tend to have their "code of honor" trained into them by having failed at a number of hard life lessons.
Character background Exile - Why? unrequited love and the monster inside me.
As a Younger man in school, I was terribly infatuated with a lovely lady whom was out of my league. Way back then she looked much like annasophia robb. I tended to look like "rick hunter" with acne. I was too flustered to ever speak to her. She clearly did not like me: too thin? too poor? no attraction? I didn't care. I liked her and longed to know her as a friend, a confidant, and one day as a lover. One evening after a glorious bout on the game field...
She was being accosted by another who was bent on much more craven actions - I tried to stop him. Things got violent. Fast. He was bigger, much more powerful, a better fighter, and armed.
...He was winning, I bore a number of wounds and was not going to last much longer. Something snapped within me, I experienced something beyond my ken. My foe was sent sprawling, convulsing, eyes rolling uncontrollably, blood running from his nostrils. Somehow, I had won the fight. I had done something dark and terrible. I will never understand, and pray that I never will again.
I was in a bad way. He was... worse. She, was terrified, shaking and crying. I looked to her and she looked at me with such horror...
Someone had called the authorities. Help did come. I had much more credit than I needed to leave school, and was bade to by the administration. My family did not stand by me. The girl I had longed to know, was running from me. I would never see her again. In her eyes, I was no hero. I was a monster.
I moved out. I joined the military.
I, looked back years later. what had become of us?
The toolshed, had grown up to make $5k a month at the lumber mill and dabbled in drugs, until the addiction had cost him his job. I found on microfiche a newspaper article about his arrest: He and a few other junkies had broken into his grandmother's home to steal, to pay for their next hit. They had killed his grandmother.
The girl? She had gotten married in college. She would have two boys. She would be happy. I had learned from her father, for her to stay happy I could never see her again.
Me, I became a part of something. something that no one will ever believe. then it was over. Discover magazine had a small sidebar article about "the C.I.A.'s psychic spies" almost twenty years ago. I liked how it never mentioned all of the other "implauisblity denied" programs run by the rest of the alphabet soup groups." 'cause everyone knows that psychic powers aren't real, pfft! shyaa, right!"
***************************
In mythic game terms: my character young and infatuated, tries save a tavern maid from debauchery at the rapacious paws of a half orc squire. The squire is killed. The town watch, The blackheart knight, and a few nobles; all called for my head to freed of my neck. My character fled to a port city, stowed away, and sailed to start a new life elsewhere.
for this reason my characters are often rogue like, and psychic in some way.