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Ooh, you're right. NovaPowered, you're sixteen points too high on your attributes.

Duruza, you might as well go half-elf and remove all that pesky decision-making.

Sorry, don't know where exactly I went wrong, because it was the class attributes, then add 20 points on and finally racial bonus. Probably went wrong with the 20 points -_-, changing it right now. But Gideon, the class gave me Con: 16 Dex: 16 wis: 16 cha:16 str: 10 and int: 12 then the racial bonus gave me +2 to int and dex, and finally allowed to give out 20 points.

Yes. Class attributes are requirements, which is why the quote-on-quote "prestige classes" (Bard and Ranger) are substantially harder to get than the others. In the end, you should add up to ninety-four, unless you're a human in which case ninety-two.

How long is it going to be untill the RP starts? I don't whant to sound impatiant but we have quite a bit of people.

Name: Klyde Hemmingmore
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Class: Rogue
Attributes:
Str: 15
Con:14
Dex: 25
Wis:14
Int:14
Cha: 12
Fighting Style: Shooting targets from a long distance, almost never comes within a close-distance of his enemies.
Skills: Stealth, Nature, Acrobatics, and Perception
Weapons: A longbow, with a small dagger that hardly leaves his belt
Spells: N/A
Personality: Straightforward and serious. Only time he really talks is about relevant business and to loved ones (which are limited to his daughter). He normally works alone, but has been reported to have worked in small teams. He doesn't hesitate to kill. He has a strange hatred for mages, but works with them if he must. He has a tendency to hold deep grudges.

Background (detailed, please): Born into a very large rich family, he grew up in Dale with 11 siblings. Being the third oldest, he had to frequently watch after the rest. At the age of 14, he accidentally killed his first victim by choking a burglar, who was breaking into their house, to death. His parents didn't know whether to thank him or punish him, so they just ignored the crime. Later when he tuned 16, his father took him hunting the local game for the first time. His father gave him a very well made bow, of which he shot 2 large deer. His dad noticed a very sharp sense in his child that could only be described as 'predator'. After this day, his father feared his son and never took him hunting again. At his 17th birthday, he was outraged when henasked to go hunting again and his father declined. Klyde ran away from Dale and made his dwelling in the outskirts of Rohan. He never saw his family again.

The next chapter of his life began. He was living by himself until he reached the age of 25 when he met a huntress, named Mary, in a pub located in Rohan. She decided to live with him and raise a child with him. Klyde, bing upset that the child was female, decided to raise the child as if she was male. 12 years later, he and his daughter, Eolynn, were out hunting when a band or Mordor orcs ransacked their camp and killed Mary. The two tracked the band down and watched from afar. They prepared their bows and took down them all before the last one could figure out what was happening.

2 years later, they parted ways, Eolynn living in the same area, and Klyde moving to fight in the North against the Orcs. The roleplay begins here. He's 39 years old but still retains his youth and cunning. But still cannot hold back his hatred for the Orcs. that will likely never cease.

EDIT: Added the 3 points as asked.

You're three attribute points shy; otherwise, everything's golden. Good first character sheet!

EDIT: Accepted! I anticipate we'll start this Friday.

Schveet.

Welcome to hell Sovngarde your first RP!

The night was thick and foul on that eve. The rain poured down in sheets, but the villagers of Woade were warm and dry inside their homes. By happy chance, a near half-score of heroes found themselves taking lodgings at Woade's tavern, The Wheat & Sickle.

A fire burned in the hearth, and the innkeeper and his daughter were strained to the limit accommodating the many patrons. Ale and coins aplenty had exchanged hands, but the night was still young and the atmosphere merry.

A small garrison of Rohan soldiers was stationed in the town, yet all but one of its members was indoors. Few wanted to be out in the elements on such a night as this.

Articus sat down in a chair and relaxed. He loved nights like this; the rain outside made the indoors seem much more cozy. "I'd sing a song, but I'm too tired," he said to nobody in particular. He saw some of the other people in the tavern, and he could tell that they were outsiders here too. "Greetings, my fellow adventurers," he said, "What brings us all here tonight?"

Steve turns to Articus and replies, "I am waiting for my brother Simon Lane, have you saw him?"

Ránen Erinqua, or Eressea quen*, as those proficient in the Elvish tongue called him, was sitting alone, broodingly cleaning the blades of his short-bow.

Filbo entered the inn and sat beside Ranen, blowing colourful smoke rings with his pipe, "Are you an Elf?"

Ránen looked down on the Hobbit and stopped his polishing for just a moment.

"No, the Orcs pulled my ears long because I annoyed them. Then they gave me a wet willy and sent me back here."

He went back to his task, muttering something that Filbo couldn't hear.

"I knew it! I leave the Shire and the first thing I see is an Elf! I'm Filbo by the way, Elf sir. Related to the great Bilbo Baggins!"

"Great indeed," said Ránen without stopping his cleaning. "He found the One Ring and doomed us all. You must be quite honoured to count yourself among his relatives. No doubt you will perform a comparable deed during your time here." The bitter sarcasm in his voice couldn't be overheard.

"Stop that smoking or go away," he added gruffly. "I am trying to clean my equipment."

"I'm starting to think you aren't an Elf, sir," he said, stuffing the pipe into his pocket.

"And on what grounds would you draw that conclusion?" Ránen asked the Hobbit, while asking himself why he was still humouring the little bugger. "Judging from your words you have never met an Elf before."

"Elves are kind and beautiful and just a tiny bit mischievous." he said, squashing his fingers together to show how tiny.

"Even Elvish spirits can be broken," Ránen only said.

Simon strode into the inn, taking off his cloak, sitting down in the corner. Then he saw Steve and waved. "Oi! Come here!" he said, grinning behind his beard.

Lanendin slowly walked into the inn, he inspected everyone in the room before walking over to a table. He looked at Ránen and said; "I'm glad I'm not the only Elf on this expedition."