Tidefall Playable Characters
Tidefall is host to a number of playable characters. Whether you want to play as a brutal half-orc barbarian, a cunning goblin thief, or a chattering bard, the world of Tidefall will react differently to each character and their unique backstories.
With custom personal storylines, each of our characters feel distinct to play, and their relationships with each other and the world around them are defined by your choices.
Will you bring Tidefall back from the brink? Will you tread a darker path with the warlord Grax? Maybe you might just find a tavern and wait for the storm to blow over? The choice is yours.
Vrixa Trix
Vrixa was once the pride of her goblin tribe, celebrated for her clever tricks and daring heists. Drawn by the thrill of the chase, her scores grew ever more perilous, but as is so often the case, her ambition would be her undoing.
Under the cloak of night, she attempted the unthinkable: stealing her chieftain’s crown. Caught in the act, she was sentenced to death. Bound to splintered driftwood and thrown into the sea, Vrixa hacked at her bonds with a blade hidden in her boot as the waves threatened to pull her below.
Desperate and adrift, she spotted a passing merchant ship and managed to stow away, but as she wrestled with the looming consequences, a savage storm tore through the horizon, consuming all souls aboard.
When next Vrixa opened her eyes, she found herself stranded on the sands of a strange new shore. With the storm still raging behind her, she headed inland in search of opportunity.
Vrixa was once the pride of her goblin tribe, celebrated for her clever tricks and daring heists. Drawn by the thrill of the chase, her scores grew ever more perilous, but as is so often the case, her ambition would be her undoing.
Under the cloak of night, she attempted the unthinkable: stealing her chieftain’s crown. Caught in the act, she was sentenced to death. Bound to splintered driftwood and thrown into the sea, Vrixa hacked at her bonds with a blade hidden in her boot as the waves threatened to pull her below.
Desperate and adrift, she spotted a passing merchant ship and managed to stow away, but as she wrestled with the looming consequences, a savage storm tore through the horizon, consuming all souls aboard.
When next Vrixa opened her eyes, she found herself stranded on the sands of a strange new shore. With the storm still raging behind her, she headed inland in search of opportunity.
“Tidefall is nothing but a pile of riches waiting for the right hands to take them. And trust me, mine are the right hands.”
Vrixa Trix
“The rage is always there, lurking under my skin. The beast wants out. Someday the chains will snap. I hope that a worthy challenger stands before me when they do.”
Gral the Mountain
Gral the Mountain
A towering figure, hails from the mountain villages of the north where strength and endurance are prized above all. Born to half-orc parents, at the remarkable age of 13 he lifted the Kharnak Stone, becoming the youngest chosen man in his tribe. By 16 he could raise the colossal slab of granite high over his head with ease, earning him his mighty name and leading to whispered rumours he was descended from giants.
In combat, he is ferocious and wild. Prone to the red rage, a bloody berserker wrath that is common among his people. He fights to control that rage and exercise the beast inside.
Finding no man remaining to challenge him in combat, Gral left the isolated community of the peaks beginning an endless pilgrimage to prove himself as the strongest warrior in the land. The ship he was on was sucked into the Storm and he found himself shipwrecked on the coast of Tidefall, a new land of challenges.
A towering figure, hails from the mountain villages of the north where strength and endurance are prized above all. Born to half-orc parents, at the remarkable age of 13 he lifted the Kharnak Stone, becoming the youngest chosen man in his tribe. By 16 he could raise the colossal slab of granite high over his head with ease, earning him his mighty name and leading to whispered rumours he was descended from giants.
In combat, he is ferocious and wild. Prone to the red rage, a bloody berserker wrath that is common among his people. He fights to control that rage and exercise the beast inside.
Finding no man remaining to challenge him in combat, Gral left the isolated community of the peaks beginning an endless pilgrimage to prove himself as the strongest warrior in the land. The ship he was on was sucked into the Storm and he found himself shipwrecked on the coast of Tidefall, a new land of challenges.
Thalric Broadwell
Thalric “Giltongue” Broadwell was born with two gifts: music and mischief. From his father, he learned melody, and from his mother, drink. Whilst his dwarven cousins clanged iron in the forges of Achin, Thalric wandered tavern to tavern with a lute on his back and ale in hand, earning coin with song as quickly as he lost it with dice.
Years of roaming the same villages dulled Thalric’s inspiration, and as a poet in need of a fresh muse, he packed a kit and set off in search of adventure, which he found in the port city of Stumrode.
After five songs, four barrels of mead, three games of dice, two kisses from a husband and wife, and a tavern brawl for the ages, Thalric awoke to the worst hangover of his life in the hold of a ship called the Delight. With no memory of boarding, he staggered topside just in time to see the storm wall pull them in.
As brave men screamed and wept, Thalric cackled and gave his best performance yet.
Now, washed ashore with a broken lute, he’s certain Tidefall will inspire his best ballad yet.
Thalric “Giltongue” Broadwell was born with two gifts: music and mischief. From his father, he learned melody, and from his mother, drink. Whilst his dwarven cousins clanged iron in the forges of Achin, Thalric wandered tavern to tavern with a lute on his back and ale in hand, earning coin with song as quickly as he lost it with dice.
Years of roaming the same villages dulled Thalric’s inspiration, and as a poet in need of a fresh muse, he packed a kit and set off in search of adventure, which he found in the port city of Stumrode.
After five songs, four barrels of mead, three games of dice, two kisses from a husband and wife, and a tavern brawl for the ages, Thalric awoke to the worst hangover of his life in the hold of a ship called the Delight. With no memory of boarding, he staggered topside just in time to see the storm wall pull them in.
As brave men screamed and wept, Thalric cackled and gave his best performance yet.
Now, washed ashore with a broken lute, he’s certain Tidefall will inspire his best ballad yet.
“The sea didn’t just take my ship—it took the last damn bottle of brandy I had left. Now that’s a real tragedy.”
Thalric Broadwell
“Power looks like control, but it’s fragile. You have to be smart, fan the flame, but if you break the illusion, you can flay them with the shreds of what they took for granted.”
Lysandra Starfire
Lysandra Starfire
Lysandra Starfire’s arcane abilities were realised when, as a teen, she awoke from a fever dream, retching a language not even elven scholars could decipher. Naturally, the Arcane Academy took an interest in her, taking her in out of fear rather than kindness.
Whilst others memorised incantations, Lysandra chased symbols she saw in her dreams, tracing sigils that pulsed with wrong colours. When her experiments shattered a scrying mirror and revealed that the Academy’s dean was exploiting younger, more vulnerable students, she was accused of heresy and bound with a curse of silence. Exiled, she left the only world she’d known voiceless, severed from her power.
Desperate to escape her pain, she boarded a vessel bound for an ancient forest to the west, but after encountering an unrelenting storm at sea, she awoke on Tidefall to discover that the curse had shattered, unleashing a torrent of magic and restoring her voice and abilities.
Lysandra Starfire’s arcane abilities were realised when, as a teen, she awoke from a fever dream, retching a language not even elven scholars could decipher. Naturally, the Arcane Academy took an interest in her, taking her in out of fear rather than kindness.
Whilst others memorised incantations, Lysandra chased symbols she saw in her dreams, tracing sigils that pulsed with wrong colours. When her experiments shattered a scrying mirror and revealed that the Academy’s dean was exploiting younger, more vulnerable students, she was accused of heresy and bound with a curse of silence. Exiled, she left the only world she’d known voiceless, severed from her power.
Desperate to escape her pain, she boarded a vessel bound for an ancient forest to the west, but after encountering an unrelenting storm at sea, she awoke on Tidefall to discover that the curse had shattered, unleashing a torrent of magic and restoring her voice and abilities.
Febeor
Deglade
After a violent supper quarrel sent Lady Delsa the Cunning into early labour, Febeor Claverry-Deglade was born after three agonising days. Delsa didn’t survive, and so, from the beginning, Febeor earned little affection. His father, Lord Claverry, enjoyed his widowerhood, and with two thriving elder sons, a sickly Febeor was often left in the shadows. Growing up with his head buried in books, Febeor shunned his family’s ire, finding solace in learning.
The scholarchy welcomed his intellect, and magic soon became more than theory. When Lord Claverry died, Febeor barely blinked, but when his eldest brother assumed the title, he purged the estate of its “parasites,” Febeor included. Banished with a modest sum and beset by frauds, Febeor’s exile turned him bitter, grey, and deeply mistrustful.
Years later, and still ever-curious, whispers of a scholarly expedition to the storm-smothered “lost island” reached his ears, and Febeor couldn’t resist.
Now, shipwrecked and alone, Febeor masks terror with a noble’s cold detachment. Quiet and watchful, he aims to turn wit and learning into spell-slinging and return to the scholarchy a fear-inducing wizard.
After a violent supper quarrel sent Lady Delsa the Cunning into early labour, Febeor Claverry-Deglade was born after three agonising days. Delsa didn’t survive, and so, from the beginning, Febeor earned little affection. His father, Lord Claverry, enjoyed his widowerhood, and with two thriving elder sons, a sickly Febeor was often left in the shadows. Growing up with his head buried in books, Febeor shunned his family’s ire, finding solace in learning.
The scholarchy welcomed his intellect, and magic soon became more than theory. When Lord Claverry died, Febeor barely blinked, but when his eldest brother assumed the title, he purged the estate of its “parasites,” Febeor included. Banished with a modest sum and beset by frauds, Febeor’s exile turned him bitter, grey, and deeply mistrustful.
Years later, and still ever-curious, whispers of a scholarly expedition to the storm-smothered “lost island” reached his ears, and Febeor couldn’t resist.
Now, shipwrecked and alone, Febeor masks terror with a noble’s cold detachment. Quiet and watchful, he aims to turn wit and learning into spell-slinging and return to the scholarchy a fear-inducing wizard.
“It’s an intoxicating prospect, understanding the magics of this Island will be the greatest discovery of our time.”
Febeor Deglade
“That fog took over a hundred of my kin. If it came from Tidefall, I’ll find the source, and I’ll purge them all. Filthy, damned vampires.”
Alric Wynn
Alric WYNN
Alric Wynn always preferred the solitude of the wild. A refugee of warring nations, he grew up wary of strangers and devoted himself to nature’s balance, but when a tribe of the ancient Mairfrith forest begged his help after gnolls killed their trappers, he agreed to train their replacements.
They took him in as one of their own, and four years later, life on the trail seemed little more than a distant night terror. That all changed the morning the fog crawled in.
Alric spotted the anomaly from the hills, but by the time he returned, it was too late. He had seen vampires feasting on the fallen as a child, but this was different. The villagers were pale and bloodless, but none bore puncture wounds of any description.
He cremated the tribe and set out in search of answers. Priests and scholars offered prayer and platitudes, but portside gossip gave him direction. An island engulfed in a perpetual storm. Could it be the origin of the fog? With no other answers on his horizon, he bought passage on a schooner heading east towards Tidefall.
Alric Wynn always preferred the solitude of the wild. A refugee of warring nations, he grew up wary of strangers and devoted himself to nature’s balance, but when a tribe of the ancient Mairfrith forest begged his help after gnolls killed their trappers, he agreed to train their replacements.
They took him in as one of their own, and four years later, life on the trail seemed little more than a distant night terror. That all changed the morning the fog crawled in.
Alric spotted the anomaly from the hills, but by the time he returned, it was too late. He had seen vampires feasting on the fallen as a child, but this was different. The villagers were pale and bloodless, but none bore puncture wounds of any description.
He cremated the tribe and set out in search of answers. Priests and scholars offered prayer and platitudes, but portside gossip gave him direction. An island engulfed in a perpetual storm. Could it be the origin of the fog? With no other answers on his horizon, he bought passage on a schooner heading east towards Tidefall.
Valeria Kaeluma
Valeria, noble of House Kaeluma, fought to the last against the coup that shattered her family, but when a final act of defiance led to her sister’s death, she fled into the desert.
Starving and sun-blind, she mistook the banner of a grinning warlord for a vision of a god. The man was Baron Thale of the Drifts, and when his scouts dragged her before him, he took her in.
Consumed by grief, Valeria threw herself into his fighting pits. A skilled combatant, she rose quickly, becoming his prized champion, but when a challenger from her homeland revealed her sister lived and that Thale had known, a buried fury returned.
She confronted him. He denied it, but by dawn, she had the truth: her sister lived, somewhere in the northern kingdom of Thaedrun.
Valeria fled once more, leaving Thale’s corpse pinned to a mural of his own likeness. As enforcers chased her across the waves, she found herself caught between cannon fire and the Storm. With certain death all around her, she steered into the tempest.
Now stranded on Tidefall, she’ll do whatever it takes to find her sister.
Valeria, noble of House Kaeluma, fought to the last against the coup that shattered her family, but when a final act of defiance led to her sister’s death, she fled into the desert.
Starving and sun-blind, she mistook the banner of a grinning warlord for a vision of a god. The man was Baron Thale of the Drifts, and when his scouts dragged her before him, he took her in.
Consumed by grief, Valeria threw herself into his fighting pits. A skilled combatant, she rose quickly, becoming his prized champion, but when a challenger from her homeland revealed her sister lived and that Thale had known, a buried fury returned.
She confronted him. He denied it, but by dawn, she had the truth: her sister lived, somewhere in the northern kingdom of Thaedrun.
Valeria fled once more, leaving Thale’s corpse pinned to a mural of his own likeness. As enforcers chased her across the waves, she found herself caught between cannon fire and the Storm. With certain death all around her, she steered into the tempest.
Now stranded on Tidefall, she’ll do whatever it takes to find her sister.
“We lost, yes, but Kaeluma still stands, and if blades cannot break me… if the storm didn’t break me… what makes you think you will?”
Valeria Kaeluma
