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  • There's a character I didn't play for very long that I'd like to play again.

    A cleric, but when asked who his deity is, he's pretty cagey. Maybe answers under his breath and coughs over his answer so no one can understand the answer.

    He introduces himself as "Pope Hypatious Constantine Driac". ("Pope Driac" for short.) But every time he is referred to by his title, he corrects them, reducing the importance of his position. "Actually, call me cardinal. That's more accurate." "Archbishop, actually." "Did I say 'arch'-bishop? I meant regular bishop. Ha! Silly me."

    He has terrible hygeine. And he's always got a runny nose that he's always wiping with his bare hand. And that's particularly gross because he keeps giving people blessings with a gesture that's basically palming (like one might palm a basketball) people's faces with a "bless you my child."

    His secret? He's an adherent of a secretive cult dedicated to a god(dess?) of disease/infirmity/plague/sickness. Everything from head-colds to typhoid are sacriments which he believes brings people closer to his god. He actively tries to convert people to his faith, but he believes only an illness (temporary or permanent) may truly convert one, so he's always trying to get others (including enemies while in the heat of battle) sick.

    He does know all the healing spells. His order practices by repeatedly infecting themselves with the sickness of the week (bubonic plague, leprosy, maybe this week I'll try influenza) and bringing themselves close to death. But their god isn't a god of death or suicide or necromancy, so they can't have their adherents dying all over the place. They heal their sickness with typical good-aligned-cleric sort of spells soon before death.

    Optimally, he'd get spells that allowed him to infect people, but failing that, he could just collect samples of infected stuff in little vials over time. A flake of dead skin from someone with leprosy here. A smallpox-laden scrap of cloth there.

    Last time I played him (not in D&D, but rather Lamentations of the Flame Princess), he had a blowgun. And his left arm was traumatically amputated in one of his first combat encounters. He saved the arm in his pack. Right as the next encounter (with lizardmen, I think) started, he said "wait!" in a commanding voice. He promised to show the enemy something grand and wonderful if they'd only give him a minute to show them. He rolled high on his persuasion roll. He withdrew his arm (now quite rotten and gross) from his pack, stabbed it a bunch of times with several darts, and then shot a lizardman with a gross dart with his blowgun. (You have to imagine him doing all this one-handed too. Lol.) Of course, at that point, the combat was back in full swing, but Driac had accomplished what he'd set out to. And of course, the party was all going "what the actual fuck...?"

    So, back to the name. "Hypatius Constantine Driac." It's a play on "hypochondriac." No one I played with ever guessed my character was any sort of "plague priest" or whatever. But then again, I didn't get to play him for very long.

  • A mortal warlock whose adopted dad is his great old one patron. He was meant to be a "standard first-born contract" but the eldritch being took a liking to him for what-ever reason. He has no idea when he was born because time is whatever dad wants it to be in his realm - I image him being centuries or maybe millennia old based on mortal time. But for him about 20 years have passed and he finally gets permission to go to the material planes for a gap year.

    His brain would be really broken.

  • A kind, bumbling entertainer who had to go travelling after he accidentally dropped what he thought was a prop sword through the chest of a noble. He never means to hurt anyone, but he keeps slipping in battle and hitting their vital organs. It's just an accident. He's definitely not doing it on purpose. (In reality, he's an assassin with an elaborate cover story)

    A 900 year old elf, which is really old, even for elves. He's a forest guardian looking for allies, but everyone just assumes he's a crazy old man. His entire backstory is a pun I refuse to tell, or even set up, until I get to play him.

    A man who always wanted to be a bard, but was unable to use magic until he slept with a groupie and she became his stalker. She watches him, sends him messages, and even gives him weird gifts. In case it's not clear, he is an archfey warlock.

    A powerful wizard from another world. Sadly, magic works differently here, and he couldn't get used to the change. He is trying, but in the meantime, he needs to pay the bills. Hitting stuff still works the same, so he's a fighter with aims of being an eldritch knight. And he uses a flail he painted red that he calls a fireball.

  • An old wizard who’s on a quest to re-learn all of his spells. If the DM allowed for it, he’s accomplished it several times but has a Sisyphus curse to lose his memory and start from level 1 again when he finally gets his memory back. Maybe he finds a way out, maybe he doesn’t but I’d like to play that sometime. Buuut that requires friends and time and I’m a middle aged dad of 3 lmao

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