Need a character background written up?

[Tawmis]

Jhyn Velasir (Male, early 20s)
Earth Genasi Rune Knight Fighter
He just hit level 3 in a Curse of Strahd campaign and I only have a little bit of his backstory figured out, hoping for some help.
Jhyn set out to find a cure for some unknown disease afflicting his mother. I like the idea that it's not actually a disease, but the result of a great sin or broken promise his family made years ago - maybe to a Dao Genie or a deity. He's after a cure that doesn't really exist and will have to embrace what his lineage did as it's already in his blood. I'd love to completely reflavor the "Giant" concept for Rune Knights.
Thank you in advance for any ideas!

This was fun to write.
So I flavored (it's pretty light) the "Giant" thing as not so much Giant Strength - but you can call on the Earth around you to empower you.
So everything is based on being channeled to the Earth (I envisioned, as you will see, the mother as a Herbalist/Druid type) who wants to show her son how to respect the Earth. Because of what she shows him - and how someone (big background villain for your DM to use if they so want to!) has definitely done something to not respect the Earth, and yes, it's a Dao.
I hope you enjoy - and I'd love feedback in this thread as it helps keep it bumped and alive.
=========================


Twenty six years ago…

Domhana Velasir was beautiful and quite sought after by many, but she was already wed and bound to Cloch, whom she loved deeply – but, had not yet been able to bear a child for him. She moved through the city of Cathair na Cruinne as quietly as she could, but her shapely figure often caught the attention of others who watched her with great interest. She eventually reached the largest structure in the town and bowed to the guards, who after a quick exchange of words allowed her passage.

She quietly walked through the halls, noticing hundreds of servants cleaning – one, even cleaning up right behind her, cleaning each step she took, to ensure dirt was not being tracked through the hall. She eventually reached the main chamber where she bowed before a Dao, who sat cross-legged on his comfortable pillows and stared down at her.

She bowed her head, “Great Gealladh Dorcha, I come to ask a favor of you.”

The Dao looked down at her, from his elevated position, “As many do. What is it you want?” he sneered, as a servant continued to feed him grapes.

“I have been without the ability to provide my husband a child,” Domhana said. “I had hoped you could somehow help?”

“Well, you are attractive,” Gealladh remarked, “for one of your kind. I suppose I could lay with you and plant a seed in you.”

Domhana flushed red, though still bowed; Gealladh could not see her expression. “You are magnificent and attractive,” she lied, “but I had hoped that you could use magic so that when I lay with my own husband, my body would fertilize his seed.”

There was a long silence; and Domhana knew this was a risk. Gealladh was powerful – but his ego was as fragile as a stone hawk’s egg. After a long awkward moment passed, he leaned forward. “I can make this happen. But I will ask you to give me what you value the most, sometime in the future. Should you refuse, the magic I infuse within your body, will turn on you and rather than make all that is within you bloom; it would devour you and bring you illness and death. I will ask only once for whatever it is that I want at that time, and should you refuse, you will accept this punishment?”

Without hestitation, Domhana smiled, “Yes, I accept.”

Gealladh Dorcha chuckled, “Then let it be.” Grabbing a large wand he kept by his side, he spoke the words of enchantment – and blue energy streaked from its tip and enveloped Domhana. Her body surged with pain then pleasure, as she collapsed to the ground, winded. She struggled to stand back upon her feet and bowed to the Dao.

“You are forever powerful,” she said, ensuring to continue to do what she could to inflate his ego. “None dare stand against you.”

“None,” he said with a grin. “Or they are punished severely.”

Three years later…

The mid-wife smiled at Domhana, “He’s a boy. And healthy as can be.” Cloch sat next to his exhausted wife, pride beaming in his eyes; not only for the son who wailed in his wife’s arms, but for the sheer strength and love his wife showed for both child and husband.

Five years later…

“Where has father gone?” Jhyn asked.

“Your father fights for Gealladh Dorcha, the Dao who rules this city,” Domhana explained. “And you too must grow up to be a strong fighter like your father, so that you too can help defend Gealladh Dorcha and this city we call home - Cathair na Cruinne.”

“Who does father fight against?” Jhyn inquired.

“Many enemies,” his mother explained, running her hand across her son’s youthful features. “There are Stone Giants, other Dao, dwarves – the enemies of Gealladh Dorcha are many.”

“But I don’t want to fight,” her son smiled. “I want to hope for peace.”

“That’s good and fine to hope for peace,” his mother replied. “However, if you do not show you’re a worthy fighter – to be fit among Gealladh Dorcha’s army – this means, competing against your closest friends – the alternative is far worse.” She took her son’s hand and they walked for an hour across a brutal landscape before coming to a large vast pit, with rows of other Earth Genasi changed at the ankles, working relentlessly, whipped and beaten by Earth Elementals, who never tired, whenever the Earth Genasi and other humanoids slowed down.

“What is that?” Jhyn asked.

“A slave pit, a mining slave pit,” she corrected. “They mine for Gealladh Dorcha. The earth is full of riches and Gealladh Dorcha will reap it all.”

“That does not seem good,” her son commented, looking down horrified.

“In truth, it is not,” his mother replied, her voice aching deeply. The vast, gaping hole was a festering wound the world could not heal from. “But this is why you must learn to fight. I will teach you how to respect the Earth and become a warrior like your father.”

Three years later, at the age of eight, Domhana got news that her husband had perished in the battle he’d been taken away to. She was heartbroken but knew she had to be strong for her son, who looked up to her.

Day in and day out, she trained her son.

“Listen to the Earth,” she said, “you can draw great power from it. When you speak to it, it will listen.”

“Like talk to it?” her son asked. “I’ve seen you talk to the flowers in the gardens.”

“Yes,” she smiled, “you can talk to it. But more importantly, bind it to you. Write the words you beckon and ask the Earth. The Earth is the center – beneath it fire, above it rain and lightning. Understand that you are a part of that – and you channel and harvest such energies. You can use it - so long as it's at your feet to gain immense strength!”

She etched the signs on the ground and showed her son what each could do when properly used.

Over the years, mother and son grew inseparable.

Then the knock came at the door.

Domhana opened the door and saw two of Gealladh Dorcha’s Generals.

One of them handed her a parchment and she unrolled it. Her eyes were open in wide horror. She threw the parchment down. “No. He’s a fighter, like his father before him. He is destined for Gealladh Dorcha’s army not the slave pits.”

One of the Generals nodded, “I understand your concern. However, Gealladh Dorcha has observed your son and believes that his strength and endurance would be better suited for the slave pits. Will you give him to us now or refuse Gealladh Dorcha’s generous offer of working the slave pits in his greatness’ name?”

She knew – nineteen years ago, she’d made a deal with Gealladh Dorcha and the time had come. She had expected that her training with her son would have eventually led to her son being called to fight with the army not the slave pits. She looked down then looked at the Generals and said, “Sadly, I must refuse this generous offer. Please have Gealladh Dorcha consider the army instead.”

The Generals looked sad. “I am sorry you feel that way.” They pulled a rune stone and broke it in front of her, and in that moment, Domhana doubled over in pain, immediately her body attacked itself – every organ was on fire – her body ached and burned – going from hot to cold her vision blurred as the Generals closed the door and left her inside clutching at the air.

When Jhyn returned from being with his friends and found his mother collapsed on the floor, he immediately called for the Herbalists – who took Domhana, but even after weeks could not tell what afflicted her. She seemed to come in and out of consciousness, almost always so confused she could scarcely remember her own name – or the name of her son – or, at times, which hurt Jhyn the most – that she even had a son.

“Some disease afflicts her,” one of the herbalists remarked. “Some disease from some dark place. We can not yet tell what it is. But we have heard of such curses and diseases from a land known as Barovia…”