Backgrounds, and Concepts!

[ByOdin'sBeard]

As the title implies, leave a post about your most unique character concept/background to your character.

An npc I made for my characters right now is a warforged druid that is solely made out of wood, with ironwood cast on his whole body. He was left as the sole remnant of a previously sentient druids staff, who when broken splintered into pieces. His owner used the wood left over from the staff, still containing it's sentience to forge a living tree of a warforged body, so he may continue living. His former owner, now magic mentor has gone missing, and he has made it his duty to find the man who gave him true life.

[Malphegor]

Dread Necromancer based off of Snow White with bits of Darth Revan and the Borg.

'Mother' was a lich queen, who ruled uncontested for a very long time, eons ago, but her power was stopped by a band of unnamed adventurers, and supposedly killed. But that which is dead can never die, and in the woods, an evil lies.
Years later, a child was in that forest. Perhaps she was delivering goods to her grandparent. Perhaps she was fleeing some societal shift. Perhaps her parents sent her out to get eaten by a sweet toothed witch. Whatever the reason, she came across the tomb of the forgotten lich queen, and camped near the stone dungeon.
As she slept, as the campfire's embers dimmed, a fragment of the once great BBEG queen, now less than the weakest ghost, posessed the girl, and she woke up with arcane knowledge, a rusty scythe, and the voice of a harsh older woman in her mind commanding her to be better, bonded irrevocably in the soul. Still ostensibly in control, but intrigued and excited and perhaps charmed by the promises of the elder voice in her mind, the young woman travels to gain power and has been warped over the years since into a growing urge to conquer and dominate the world. Resistance is futile. The necropolis will rise anew. The dead shall rise, and release us of our chains.

All shall join Mother.

Nildur Seidrsmith- Dwarven Spell Engineer (Archivist/Contemplative/Runecaster), mostly inspired by the game Dwarf Fortress's moody dorfs with some musings on the Midgard Dwarves of Frostburn

The Midgard dwarves who came to the fortress once with strange and wonderful knowledge were right. The gods could not be trusted. Rumours spoke of planes where those who did not pick a god were sent to an eternity of pain, whilst the petty gods would wage games of war, with innocents as their pawns. Most of the fortress was paying homage to gods of knowledge, gods of craft... But even that worship was dwindling. Runesmiths and Wizards were called in to look at divine magic.
And there came the most beautiful thing of all. The gods granted their worshippers divine power.
But wizards harnessed latent arcane power.
What if a divine scholar treated the power of the gods as a wizard does their spells? What if we could steal the power of the gods, without their consent? What if we could create new runes, as the runesmiths do, but filled with the power the gods parcel out...

Or at least, that was the theory. Three hundred and thirty three thunderstorms later, Nildur was the only survivor (or so he thinks) of the dwarven fortress, and he now travels, spreading knowledge of how to touch the divine without the divine's consent. Versed in craft and the art of carving stone, Nildur seeks to avenge his people (kill all the gods! Independant mortals!), attain great power, and maybe also find the elusive extraplanar dwarves who were known for crafting tools of legend.

[ByOdin'sBeard]

These are both awesome! Love the thought that went into them

[Jay R]

Warning. Long character story. It should be amusing, but if you don't like that sort of thing, skip it.

Deep in the mountains, near a clear cold mountain lake, there is a small, unassuming cavern entrance. Nobody looking at it would suspect that it is anything other than an opened seam. But it is the entrance (or rather, one of hundreds of entrances) to the caverns of the Grabediodd – an ancient clan of Gnomes.

Not even the gnomes (most of them) know about this entrance. That is why Gwystyl chose it when he left the clan. Most of the known entrances are several hundred feet higher up, in a hidden valley.

The Grabediodd (“the clan of Grab”) have a long, long history. They were once led by the mighty Grabthar, who won a great battle, earning the clan high fame and (more importantly) safety in their caverns. But for some reason, much of the history of Grabthar is lost to the clan. One of its greatest illusionists was the matriarch Grablorna, but many of her stories are also lost. In fact, there are entire generations missing from their lore. Searching the records kept by a reclusive clan of a suspicious, secretive and non-Lawful race that produces rogues and illusionists can be extremely frustrating.

This is the beginnings of the tale of one young gnome of the Grabediodd tribe. But how shall we identify him? “Gnomes love names, and most have half a dozen or so.”

He was originally named Grabnol, a name that shows his relation to the clan, and that will never be used outside the caves of his birth (or within them, as shown below). When visiting dwarves, he is called Doli. The elves named him Tildring (“pointed hammer”). Two gnome sisters from another clan knew him briefly as Dimble, a name which only lives on as a use-name for the child one of them bore. And one orc called him Grek’khan (“little brown dinner”), but that name died when the orc did, moments later.

He has at least three other names, which I will invent when I need them, and abandon at whim, for this is the way of the gnome.

But he will soon be among humans, who expect somebody to have a single name. Among them he will be known as Gwystyl. We will therefore refer to him as Gwystyl. He will answer to it, but he does not consider it his own, as his tools are.

Gwystyl is about 3 ½ feet tall, and more quiet and unassuming than most gnomes. Many assume this means he has less sense of humor. They are wrong. He has quite a wicked one, but he feels no particular urge to share it. He has blue eyes and light brown greyish skin. With unassuming looks and average charisma, he often goes unnoticed.

As Gwystyl was growing up, the clan had turned its attention away from the arcane mysteries it had mastered in the past, to the new mechanical learning. Gwystyl is not sure why. He has been told that there is greater power to be mastered here, that all races can do magic but few can master science. None of these explanations seemed convincing to him.

[And rightly so. The strongest reason is that not everybody can be a wizard, but anybody can be trained to make cogs. A generation or two back, there happened to be a stretch of time in which no gnomes with arcane ability were born. So the gnomes, always working out solutions, turned to mechanics. Also, their caverns have several underground waterfalls fed by the snows above, and so there is always a large source of mechanical power.]

Of course Gwystyl (not called that yet) was trained in mechanics. He has 4 ranks in both Craft (mechanics) and Knowledge (science and engineering). This represents his training until he started his travels at first level. It is not his intention to develop these skills, but he might be able to repair mechanical devices, or even create simple ones. He certainly has a set of mechanic’s tools.

For a gnome, there is nothing more personal than his tools. Building his own toolkit is his first major work, and he must keep trying until they are perfect. After that, he would not willingly part with them. For this reason, Gwystyl always carries a set of masterwork machinist’s tools.

Gwystyl always wanted to know why. He followed streams to their source, and burrowed down to the roots of trees. While the illusions are far more important to him, he is still interested in mechanics, because the principles and science behind it answer the question “Why?” about things that magic cannot answer.

Where did it come from? Why did it happen? He is always wondering, and this led him to explore deeper and further, and probably knows the tunnels and underground near the gnome caverns better than anyone else. This is also how he found the hidden, almost forgotten vault (see below).

But his greatest interest is not in the clan’s great modern works. As a young gnome, he developed arcane powers. Of course, he had to hide them from all, or nearly all, of his clan. Coldwen, an old crone, ignored and sneered at by most of the clan, saw his powers and helped him develop into an illusionist. [Note to DM: do I need to invent any more details about her?]

Unsurprisingly, he became more of a loner as he grew up. This itself makes him unusual among gnomes. The need to hide his greatest interests from the clan only reinforced this attitude.

Deep in the family caverns, in a hidden vault, lies a hooked hammer. Once he discovered the existence of the hammer, Gwystyl wanted to know all about it – its history, its meaning, its origin. It has been in the family for generations, and the clan does not speak of it now. Indeed, most of the clan does not know about either the hammer or the vault. Gwystyl suspects that the reason they don't is that the family wants to be modern and develop scientific wonders, and the hammer is tied to their magical past, but that is a mere guess, with no real evidence at all. It is also not true. What he knows is that his questions are not answered, and the questions themselves are discouraged. Most particularly, he was told (by the few elders who know of the vault’s existence) that whatever is in the vault is cursed, and he must never touch it.

“Don't look at the past,” they say. “Look to the future. Here is a device that nobody else has ever created before."

Of course, attempting to discourage his curiosity has always been the most effective way to increase it. After he discovered the existence of the hammer, he visited it repeatedly – though he remembered the injunction not to touch it. [After quietly dismantling the vault’s lock a couple of times, he eventually just fashioned himself a key. Nobody else has yet noticed that a lock made before the clan’s advances in mechanical knowledge is no longer as effective as it once was.]

He often sought information from the clan’s chronicles and stories. Sometimes it seemed to him that any story that might relate to the hammer had been removed and destroyed. Unlike many of his guesses, this one turns out to be the simple truth. Nonetheless, the long search taught him much, and he now has 6 ranks in Knowledge (history).

For many generations, the hammer has lain unused, as nobody could claim it. Evidently, it carried an enchantment that caused 1d6 damage to anyone who was not worthy tried to take it. Many household members tried and failed to use it, and a few children died in the attempt. That made it a dangerous item, and a continual shame to the family, implying that nobody was worthy. After several generations of this, the clan built the vault to keep it safe, and expunged all records of that time. So it has been lying, deep in the family's caverns, in a locked, nearly forgotten vault.

[In fact, the word for “worthy” could also mean “rightful” or “chosen”. There is no inherent worthiness that Gwystyl has over all the rest of his clan – he just happens to be the one the hammer’s been waiting for.]

Finally, Gwystyl could not resist. He snuck in and picked it up. As he did, he heard a voice in his head intoning a prophecy. The voice – a god, the power of the hammer, a delusion, who knows? – told him that he must seek out the truth of the hammer. That was the first time he could detect magic on the hammer, and the last. He will not feel its power again until he awakens it. Was it magic from the hammer? A prophecy of the gods? A delusion? He does not know, but he wants to believe it.

[The 1d6 damage is now gone forever. It's a plot device, not a power for him to pay for.]

The prophecy was great and momentous, but he can no longer remember it. All his mind still holds was the final line: “If you do not discover the secrets of this hammer, they will be lost to the Grabediodd forever.”

He knows that the answers cannot be found in his clan’s caverns. While the gnomes are inquisitive and methodical in their record-keeping, they are just as methodical in purging records, and this history is one that they chose to erase. He is aware that the clan destroys records of any fact they do not wish to be known.

That the hammer is related to Garl Glittergold is obvious to young Gwystyl. (Which does not mean that it is true. That's up to the DM. But he takes it into every temple he visits and prays over it. At sixth level, when he takes the Ancestral Relic feat, those prayers will have a result that surprises him. He will not know about the feat) And he has been told that he must learn its secrets. He has also been told about its great destiny, but he cannot remember any details.

When he came back out carrying the hammer, the family was horrified. They congratulated him, rather nervously, and urged him on his quest, grateful that the (presumably cursed) hammer was leaving their home forever. None of them touched him. They don’t expect to see him again, because they are sure that the hammer will kill him. The name of “Grabnol” has been expunged from all clan records. [He does not know this. If he should ever return, he may need to defend his right to a clan name.]

He has discovered that for all that it is a true gnome’s hooked hammer, in his hands, it acts like a staff. Thus he can cast with it in his hands. So in his travels he carries it. (Also, he does not wear robes, which are impractical for travel. When people first see him, they see a gnome in traveling clothes, carrying a weapon. He does not appear, at first glance, to be a caster.)

He sought his answers beneath the mountains, for he had always been drawn to roots and beginnings, and where better to search for his own roots.

But while he found orcs, goblins, kobolds, and troglodytes, he found no answers.

He traveled to the marshes and the sea, and met aquatic elves, lizardfolk, merfolk, and locathah. He is now reasonably certain that there are no answers for him under the sea.

He traveled to dwarven lands as Doli seeking information. (What a shame that these dwarves were not related to Warvan.) They also named him Bolten, “Son of Mystery” because he does not know the nature of his own quest.

He learned what he could from the elves, who named him Tildring. He even went up the high slopes. But from the top peak, he could see further than he had ever seen before. (This is really not too surprising for one who had lived underground, and whose most common outside area was a hidden valley.) Looking out over the world, he realized how much larger it was than he had ever really grasped. He determined that, while he didn’t really know what he was looking for, he would need to travel further than he ever had to find it.

So under the name of Gwystyl, he is wandering alone into human lands, seeking the answer to a riddle without knowing the riddle, searching for he knows not what.

It's a gnome hooked hammer, with a hammerhead on one end and a plothook on the other.

The hammer was an ancestral weapon, from when the heads of the family were warriors. At some point Gwystyl's ancestor Grabthar used it, and it was crucial to winning an important battle, as an ally of the sons of Warvan. This is a meaningless in-joke. It has no purpose except to please me. The DM has written a history of the battle, which Gwystyl does not know.

After that battle, something happened that changed the hammer's purpose and powers forever. Something - a wish, a gift (or a curse) from a god, the gratitude of a powerful mage, a random surge of magic - gave the hammer latent power, but only conditionally. It would grant power only to a worthy scion of Grabthar's lineage, and only on a level that that gnome could use.

For many generations, it has lain unused, as nobody could claim it.

That it is related to Garl Glittergold is obvious to young Gwystyl. (Which does not mean that it is true. That's up to the DM. But he takes it into every temple he visits and prays over it. At sixth level, when he takes the Ancestral Relic feat, those prayers will have a result that surprises him. He will not know about the Feat.)

Perhaps it was used with its power by earlier gnomes. He doesn't know, and all records of the history of the hammer have been deliberately destroyed.

So while its history certainly includes that battle, its greatest secret might be related to Grabthar himself, anyone else involved in that battle (including the sons of Warvan), or some later wizard in the family. There could be an unfinished quest, or curse, which requires Gwystyl to take on some great adventure. To complete the in-joke, this quest could include some type of vengeance.

The family certainly know of their ancestor, the great warrior Grabthar, but all connection between him and the hammer is lost.


P.S. The in-joke is a tribute to Alan Rickman, who died the day I was designing it. The name of the gnome who carried it, and the allies he fought for, come from Rickman's line in GalaxyQuest. Someday, when Gwystyl learns its history, I intend to find an opportunity for him to say, "By Grabthar's hammer, by the sons of Warvan, you shall be avenged!"

[HONEYBONE]

I've been working on a fallen aasmir death cleric starting at lvl. 5 I feel I have a solid background but looking for help this is what I have so far....

My*life*growing up was as ordinary as could*be*I was*born*to two loving human parents.*I*had*eleven other*siblings*growing up.*Until a*man*came*one*day.*A*man*by the*name*of Sir Harbin Wester came to the*farm*to*see*if my*family*wish*to*join*the*church.*Saying*we would be*relocated*to a*realm*the*church*had*set up.*We would also be*set up*with a*farm.*They*offered*to*set*all the*children*with*jobs.*My*parents*could not pass up on such an*offer.*It was bizarre to leave home, but I was more than excited.*The*new*realm*was*vast,*vast*red*trees with metal vanes running through them. They had*set*us*up with a*farm, a*house*to*accommodate*all of*us*and*even*had*others that would*help*with routine chores.*
The*day*of*my*fifteenth birthday Sir Harbin came to*place*me with a task master just as he*had*with*my*other nine older*siblings.*He*notified*me and*my*parents*that*I*would*become*a wander for the*church*and be*taught*in the*ways*of a*cleric. To go forth and*spread*the*word*of the Traveler.*My*training*seemed to come easy.*I*had*a*talent*for casting and*I*learned quick with the*blade.*It merely*took*me three*years*till*sister Abigail*felt*I*was ready. I*was*offered*a*station*in*Neverwinter*in the poor district.*I*had*never*seen*such a*place.*The varied diverse races, but even the*monsters*all coexisting in one*place. I was*told*that the*leader*of the*followers*along with his*band*of the original*followers*had control over*most*of the*city.*My*mission*was*to*take care*of the*church*and to*stay*in*correspondence*with Sir Harbin and a*man*named*Sinep.*Sinep*was*a peculiar man who*I*came*to respect as fast as it*took*for him to*talk*me out of all my*coin.
Life*was*great,*I*was more than content. Until the*cultists*came*they*devastated*the*town,*they*s laughtered*all of us anyone that had to*do*with the*church.*I*was*restrained*and*hung*from the*statue*in the*church.*Brought*to the brink of*death.*Left*to*die*I*looked out on the*bodies*that*covered*the*floor.*As*I*wept*the*p ain*completely subsided and*prayed*for the Traveler to*allow*me*wander*at his*side,*as*As my*vision*began*to blur and the*torch-light*started to*fade.*I*overheard*a*voice,*do*you truly wish to*walk*with the Traveler?*To be able to*stand*on familiar ground,*I*can*help.*I*can*set*you*on a*path*to*become*death.*The mighty*horseman*was massacred, and*you*will naturally have to die too but*I*will*deliver*you*back with a divine spark of his extraordinary power.power. Ultimately*it will be up to*you*to*tread*your own path.
I slipped gently into the*embrace*of nothingness.*Then fire, everlasting hell was strange not*scary*as one would have thought the unique experience was exciting. It*felt*like a life time passed as*I*wandered*the diverse levels.*I*thanked*the*gods*I*was already*dead.*Cause*every*time*I*turned a corner*I*suffered*what would*be*death*in some*innovative*and creative way. I*began*anticipating*what was coming next.*I*continued*fighting back.*No*matter*the persistent challenge, every*time, my*body*was ripped*apart*I*would mend. I*would regain consciousness, although it*felt*as if*I*lost*a*piece*of what*I*thought*used*to*be.
He*revived*me*last*night*the Traveler finally came to liberate*me*after a*century*of this******he*ultimately answered my*prayers.*With one*word*he*gathered*me*up and*dusted*me*off. Flinging a*cloak*over my*back*he*said, “Follow.” I*couldn’t help but*smile*as*I*walked*behind this being.*I*couldn’t stop*talking*I*described*everything,*all*the*exper iences*I’ve*entertained.*All*the*thoughts*that*I’v e*had*no one to share with.*I*talked, he*listened.*He ferried me to a*building*through*all*my*time*spent*here*I*had*ne ver*seen an enormous*building*made*of*steel*with massive double doors*made*of*glass.*The*magic*it must have*taken*to*build*such a*building.*He*opened*the door*and a*portal*opened.*Its*time,*I*asked*as*I*looked*at him with*tears*in my*eyes.*He ushered me through with one sacred word, Wander.*I*awoke*on a polished slab.*Looking around found myself in a modest tomb.*I*naturally found this funny trapped, but*I*laughed hysterically as*I*instantly realized*I*was undoubtedly in*my body. Hunger*gripped me.*Damn*I*missed*life.*The*door*to the*tomb*opened.*Sinep*protruded*his*head*in, “Hey kid*long*time no*see.*It's*about*time*you wake up,*lazy*ass.*You’ve*missed*a*lot, and*a*lot*has*changed.”
Over*the next four*years, I*learned*that the*cult*had*taken over*Neverwinter.
From the information that the*followers*have*gathered.*The originals had fought heroically against the*occultist’s*god. They had*slain*him, but his*magic*reverberated and*caused*a*chunk*of the mainland to*plane*shift.*Sir Harbin had naturally gathered everyone together, made*Phalidin*a secure haven for the faithful followers.*I had*contacted*him not to long ago.*He*had changed*considerably,*now*representing the noble head of the grand*church*since*Rin*and the originals had*disappeared.*He had willingly become a*lich, so he could return the strength the church needed to survive but it was still not enough.*He*tentatively proposed for me to*become*an*emissary*for the*church.*Go forth into this unknown land to*spread*the sacred word and miraculously find support. Most*importantly*I*was*eagerly asked if*I*would*keep*my*eyes*out for the originals.*I*accepted*and head out as swiftly as*I*could.*I*headed east to the new mountain range.*After*getting*through the*mountains.*I*came*upon the*town*of*Poc.*Asking around*I*found out of a power full wizard king that rules this*area.*I*found*the best place to*start*was in a*town*to the*north*called the*Sesten*Sanctuary.
The*sesten*was undoubtedly an amazing place right as*I*entered*the grand canyon.*After a pleasant week in*town,*I*naturally began*picking up*missions*till*I*had*found*a*man*name*Malik*he*w as*a particular*man.*A*knight*with the*ability*to cast magic and a*strength*I*have*never*seen until*now.*I*had*to*develop*a*friendship*with*him. *I*soon found out he*was*an*assassin*working*in*part*for the*thief’s*guild.*I*credited*him*a few*drinks*and*convinced*him*if*my practical worth.*We*met*our*next*companion*Makroo*in a local cave.*Malik*and I were*sent*to*take care*of some bandits hiding out in a*grotto.*The job itself was easy enough.*We carefully cleansed tththe grotto swiftly, but as we were leaving we stumbled upon an eccentric little kobold muttering to himself holding some strange book.*I*coaxed*him out with a*bit*of*food*from*the meal*that morning.*He was captivating little fellow with strong magics.*As a*band*we have worked cooperatively for the*past*few*months*producing*enough*coin*to*survi ve, but I*feel*like it’s*time*to move on.*I must*find*this*wizard*king and*see*if he would*support*the*followers*in their*endeavoring quest to*destroy*the*cult.