Backstory : Do you bother and if you do, what is your best?

[Krahe]

I am a REALLY big fan when it comes to creating a compelling back story for my characters, but I have played with quite a few people who, in the zenith of their creation, think that "A half-orc barbarian with a heart of gold" is Shakespearean.

I was wondering what you all thought, and if you had a particularly good one, give it a post. I will start by my favorite character in my history of D&D.

Edward Alphonse Valmonte Trivusky LeBeau III aka "Capitan Fast-Hands LeBeau"
(Homebrew world, 3.5 ruleset)

Edward and his mother, both slaves, were not in possession of their own lives. Marked by a tattoo on their inner wrist, a linked chain, their status was plan, and had them as property for their rest of their mortal lives, and in the case of some cruel masters with arcane talents, some time after that as well.

When their current master, a brute by the name of Halashim, tired of them, he sold them to a merchant from a far away land. During the long sea voyage, a set of sails on the horizon made close to the slave ship. Before the drunken and untrained crew had time to react, the men of the brave Captian Vincent LeBeau has swept onto the ship, slaughtered the slavers, and made to take whatever was not nailed down. While exploring the lower decks in search of more goods, Vincent stumbled upon the slave hold, and a young boy, a dead slaver at his feet, and a pair of shaking, blood covered swords in his hands.

Taking the boy and the rest of the slaves on board, Capitan LeBeau sailed straight for the nearest free city, and let them off, in hopes of finding a new life free from the chains. With a wave, Capitan LeBeau set off back out into the blue waves. A week out, a stowaway was found on board, the young boy, Edward. Impressed by the boys creativity, Vincent let the boy stay on, if he could prove himself in combat against the first mate, Kogash Darkhand.

Needless to say, when the boy awoke, he was back on shore, nursing some bruises in the arms of his dear mother, cradling a note from the Captian, reading simply "When you feel ready, try again."

Years later, and a few more poundings at the hands of Kogash, Edward kept at the studies of the blade, adventuring with a group of friends from the town, wondering who the mysterious visitor occasionally visiting his mother could be.

Years passed again, and one day, Vincent pulled into shore to find a strapping young man waiting for him. With a flurry, Edward not only beat Kogash, but Vincent as well, and then surprised the crew by asking permission to join them. The crew approved, as did Kogash and Vincent.

Proving himself to be a loyal member of the crew, always willing to help out someone in need, Edward continued to impress the Capitan, who, despite his skill, was beginning to show his age. Upon what he felt was his last voyage, Vincent begged Edward to challenge him for control of the ship so he could retire in peace, and live a life on shore. Edward reluctantly accepted, and the two men fought on the deck. Vincent, before the first blow fell, conceded, and presented his sword to Edward, who took it, and at the request of the Capitan, the last name of LeBeau, up into shaky hands and an even shakier heart. The crew let loose a flurry of applause and cheering, and even Kogash swore loyalty to the young man, his new captain.

Now, Capitan Edward "Fasthands" LeBeau and the crew of the ship, Fasthand's Pride, sail the open seas, making their mark on a world of blank paper.


Lemme know what you people think, and sorry if it is a touch TL;DW.

~Krahe

[Gamerlord]

I stink at roleplaying IMHO, so my best is not very good:
Half-orc ranger favored enemy giant
He's mother was from a orc tribe that was forced to take refuge in a human town that his father lived in because of a vicious group of giants. He was born not long after, but at a young age the town was destroyed by the giants. He has since been a warrior without a home.


Yeah, I know I stink at roleplaying.

[Sstoopidtallkid]

Rogue 1/Paladin X: He was a minor criminal who was captured with his hand on the purse of a priest of Heironious. Sent to prison, where the priest steadily converted him to worship of the God of Justice. He was attacked by other prisoners for his worship, and they carved a lightning bolt into his chest. They would have killed him, but the divine power of Heironious infused him, allowing him to fight off his attackers and permanently scarring the symbol into his chest. Now he travels the world doing the god's work using his eclectic collection of skills.

[Yukitsu]

I like to make fairly elaborate backstories. Whether they are actually good or not is a different question, but my DM seems to like them.

My current character was an orphan taken in by the state after a long war. After years of torturous scientific experimentation, she had become an immortal Elan imbued with all the powers of fear, meant to be used as a massed shock troop against the nation's enemies. She and her ilk managed to overthrow their opressors, but were quickly scattered across the multiverse. 500 years later, only a handful of these individuals remain, and my character had lost all her memories when she arrived in the campaign world. She has a bitter hatred for institutions that enslave people, though she doesn't know what that is. She's stalked the streets literaly terrifying the wicked to death.

[arguskos]

Rogue 1/Paladin X: He was a minor criminal who was captured with his hand on the purse of a priest of Heironious. Sent to prison, where the priest steadily converted him to worship of the God of Justice. He was attacked by other prisoners for his worship, and they carved a lightning bolt into his chest. They would have killed him, but the divine power of Heironious infused him, allowing him to fight off his attackers and permanently scarring the symbol into his chest. Now he travels the world doing the god's work using his eclectic collection of skills.

Man, I liked that character. Like, hardcore. Too bad that game ended horribly thanks to break.

[IonDragon]

Homebrew setting, homebrew Psionicist.

This is the longest back story I've ever done:

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Quin's parents were not rich. They had some money, enough to get him an apprenticeship with his Uncle, a Blue Wizard who lived many days travel away. (Enchantment so you don't have to look it up). While in grey robes, he learned the basics of magic. The chants, hand motions, how to clear his mind and prepare his spells but for some reason, he never could get his spells to work quite right. From time to time, he would baffle his instructor by making something happen, something...not quite right: Magic Missile that was much slower and fatter than it was supposed to be, fire that clung to his hands like a Druid's. This went on for some time until his master released him as a lost cause claiming he was unable to teach him the ways of the Arcane.

Rather than shame his family by being prematurely released from apprenticeship Quin went to the city and bought himself a set of red robes. His family was overjoyed and proud of him for completing his internship ahead of time. Knowing that he could not maintain the ruse if he stayed at home Quin packed his things and set off to adventure, hoping one day to make a name for himself and maybe even wrangle his Arcane knowledge into a more appreciable form so he could return home, mostly to show up his family.

He has an older brother who went through his Arcane training several years before Quin did. His older brother also left home, presumable to seek fortune for his family and move them out of their squalid township.

It is my opinion that characters should have SOME KIND of back story, and that should get cleared by the DM, but at the same time, the DM has other things to worry about. It is more than likely he's not going to mind much of any back story if it gets cleared (Short of secretly being the King, or owning half the kingdom or something). Really, it's just a story. That's the way I DM, and our other groups DM operates.

[Katana_Geldar]

Backstory is something I like to work with the DM on, as they can give me a few details about their campaign world to use, and vice versa.

In the FR campaign, my half-elf paladin Adannaya travels from Waterdeep to Cormyr where her parents left soon after she was born. Her mother was the sister of Baron Alamber, but she eloped with and elf emmissary sent to her brother's court. Later on, her father left her mother and returned to Myth Drannor and Adannaya was adopted by the church. Her mother dying a few months before the campaign began and triggering her journey. There was also a goblin war she was involved in.

Half of this was something I worked on my own, but had a series of convsersation prior to the game with the DM about the noble factor. he was fine with it, to the point where a piece of paper we found that a minion was burning had Baron Alamber on there, along with other nobles.
I was surprised to see it there, so there was no acting when I told the significance of the name to the other players.
Also, a lot of these backstories are natural conclusions to where my character ends up at the moment as well as giving the DM a few hooks.

I have to confess, I use the Creative Casting books to give myself a headstart on backstory then go from there.

[Weimann]

I often have a hard time with backstories, since those often require knowledge about the setting world that I typically don't have, or interest myself in very much. What I do find important, however, is a good grasp on personality, motivations and quirks. Many of these get developed as the game goes, of course,but you have to start somewhere, and I don't think it's always relevant to tie them back to some specific past.

[Jerthanis]

One of my characters was the only son of a powerful Evil Wizard, ruling as a tyrant over the land. My character was initiated into the mystic arts, but couldn't understand the arcane texts most of the time. He mastered the occasional spell, but never to his father's satisfaction, and that made him lose confidence that he would ever master others, and some spells just lay beyond his comprehension no matter how hard he tried.

He grew angry, sullen and depressed at his continual failures, but abjectly refused to let them get the best of him. He ran away from home in search of additional arcane texts, thinking that there would be one out there that phrased the concepts in a way he could understand.

But he was destined to fail, because he was actually a Sorcerer.

So to this day (when the campaign ended he was no wiser to his nature), he carries around a spellbook, confounded at the fact that he can't make even the most rudimentary spells work, but can sometimes call up very potent magics if he puts his heart and soul into it.

Not very long or detailed, but I believe elegant in its simplicity.

[Dusk Eclipse]

Nice Backstory, I has quite a lot of emotion, I like it.

My favorite backstory si for Drake Ignusfang a Gestalf Duskblade/Warlock Half* dragon in an eberron

*Actually quarter-dragon, we watered down the half-dragon template and fluffed it as being the child of a half dragon

His basic backstory is that from the time he was born he was an outcast, trying to get the respect or at least acceptance from his town, he took the mantle of a protector to the town. Eventually with his dutiful and succesful protection he steadiy gained their respect and in some time the admirattion of the towns-people.

Some years later Drake married a werewolf woman named Aurora, eventually they had a daughter who they named Dine; they kept Aurora's and Diane'sl condition from the townspeople knowing they would mistrust them if not attacking them on sight.

One week before Diane's five birthday, Drake an inquisitorial squad from the Church of the Silver Flame came to the town, they came hearing rumors of lycanthropes in the town.
Eventually they came to Drake's house, they took into custody Aurora and Diane for execution.

Drake returned to the town just in time to see the death of his familiy, Drake become blinded by rage and singlehanded burnt down the town to its very foundations and killed all the townspeople including the inquisitorial squad.

Theimages of his family was forever burned into his mind, he then started his own crusade to bring down the church of the silver flame, and he will take anymeans necesary to do that.

[Glass Mouse]

@gamerkid: Still better than no backstory at all

Every one of my characters gets a pretty detailed story, otherwise I simply cannot get attached to her (yeah, I always play girls).

My most elaborate is Saromihe Illstra, my drow bard (story originally written in Danish - the spoilered-for-length, englishified version, for your convenience).

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Saromihe Illstra was raised in Menzoberranzan, as a more-or-less regular noble girl of one of the minor houses. Youngest of three sisters. (wow, it sounds bad already, doesn't it?)
Her family had a long and (for drow) very unusual tradition for music and bards, a position usually held by the family's men. However, the current bard was getting old, and there didn't appear to be any boys coming. As such, Saromihe had to take our the barding.

She grew up on stories and music. The old bard knew a lot more about the world than the general propaganda-filled drow did, and he taught Saromihe everything. He had even been on the surface once or twice, and his stories didn't quite match with the propaganda she usually heard.
While listening to stories of drow, of dwarves, of illithid, of surface elves, of the sun, while learning broken Common and a few phrases of Elvish, she soon developed a taste for the world outside of Menzoberranzan.

In her family, however, as she grew up, she started to take the position of family diplomat. This would sometimes take her outside of Menzoberranzan, and she loved those trips.
Thus, all was well.

One day, though, a rumor swept over the city. Something was crawling around in the darkness, out there in the Underdark. Something pale-skinned and fair. A surface elf. A group was immediately mobilised, but Saromihe was faster. She gathered a few slaves for protection, then set off into the dark.
Luck was with her, and she stumbled across the elf. It was a male, pale and light-haired, and he would have killed her if she hadn't made her intentions clear.
She wanted to talk. To know all of the surface world from which he came, the sun, his people, everything. In exchange, she would help him out of the Underdark.
He was willing to tell, and she listened. They talked for hours, exchanging stories, lifes, getting lost in the other's world. When they parted, she provided him with a map and some food, and he set off.
She disposed of the slaves, so they wouldn't tell, and resumed life as usual.

This did not please Lolth. Within hours, the house of Illstra fell from grace. Within a few days they discovered this, yet without knowing the cause. In desperation, they sent away Saromihe (who had earlier, in her position as diplomat, been to a nearby city) and a sister, in the hope that this would discourage other houses from attacking.
A vain effort. Shortly after Saromihe's departure, the house and the two sisters were attacked simultanously.
The house fell.
The sisters... got lucky.

Their attacker was a single assasin, and, being the fighter, Saromihe's sister tried facing her. The attacker was stronger, and she was soon pressed. Saromihe, on the other hand, got very lucky. One spell, a weak one, managed to overcome the attackers spell resistance, and in an instant, her attitude changed towards the bard.
Saromihe considered for a moment. Then sent the assasin right back at her sister. A short fight later, and the sister lay cold on the dark stone floor.
This was time for a second thought. She knew the house had to have been attacked, maybe even fallen. She could be adopted among the higher house, become a real noble, power, favor in the eyes of Lolth. On the other hand...
She sent the assasin away ("Run home, run as fast as you can back to your friends"). Then ran in the opposite direction, heading towards the surface.

Her first meeting with the surface was... not bad. She escaped in the middle of night, and the starlight was a puzzling experience.
The next morning, she almost immediatedly ran back to the darkness. Almost.

The beginning was tough. She already suspected this, and her fears were confirmed the first time she neared a town. It was a complete stroke of luck that she even escaped with her life. That night, she snuck back in and stole clothes enough to cover every inch of her skin.
This way, she lived for some time. Sneaking about, becoming fluent in Common, learning the ways of the surface, always in the background, always in the shadows.
At some point, though, she started noticing that some inns had use of... people with her abilities. The usual performers were way below her standard, and the first night she dared to offer her services, she took an entire inn by storm.

It didn't take long before she developed a small reputation. She covered up her body and her face, and she excuses herself with any story that suits her mood - sometimes involving dragons, sometimes curses, sometimes vows.
Saromihe the Faceless, she still travels the surface world.
Over time, she's grown a healthy dose of paranoia, keeping her on edge, always an eye over the shoulder. Knowing full well that everyone would kill her if they ever... knew.

Sometimes, she's still looking for the elf that she talked to in the Underdark. She's not sure what she'll do if she finds him. Kill him? Thank him? Embrace him as the only friend she'd ever be able to find?
She doesn't know.

And still, she hasn't found him.
Instead, she's found a home that suits her. The sunny, hostile, so wonderfully... free... surface world.

Edit: I know there's a lot of "creative" interpretations in here. It's okay, I'm allowed. (Nice DM)

[horseboy]

I find it depends on what system I'm playing. In systems that I can craft characters or that require really strong back stories I do far more than systems where I just fill in the blanks.

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Vrran’s father was a member of the Tulgarian embassy for Earth. There they facilitated broke travelers, smoothed over inter-species problems, trade and tax issues, answered elementary school kid's letters with questions about their kind, and the like. He was actually born on Earth with two sisters and a runt brother in his litter. His parents took great strides to ensure that their children were brought up in true Tulgarian traditions; camping holidays for the weekend, riding lessons, fencing classes and Sensenet classes about Tulgar. The Tulgarian enclave was in a nicer area. It wasn’t that the buildings weren’t old and dilapidated, but that the whole community watched out for each other. They felt safe letting their children explore all that Earth (well, London anyway) had to offer, believing all of London to be like their neighbourhood.
Vrran was always out and about, popular at school, running around the neighbourhood, at the pool. He knew a lot of people. So it came as no real surprise when Abigail Steward, a very popular last year student asked him for tutoring in Tulgarain even though he was only 14. The lesions were pretty straight forward, until right before the summer holiday, when she seduced him.
Rownya, his oldest sister, killed Abbie in an honour duel. The resulting inquiry made it into the news, expounding into a scandal thanks to typical human sensationalism. “That’s when she said that I was such a pretty puppy I deserved a…a special treat.” To save the honour of the family he demanded to be tried as an adult and accepted the full dishonour of the act. He was forever to be dishonoured and the path of knighthood barred to one of such questionable character.
He was sent away to a monastery to hide the family shame and complete his primary education. The first thing the monks did was to try and beat the monkey out of him. It was about this time that he started affecting a bad Cockney accent. While quite smart enough to understand the lessons, he never really had the discipline to apply himself and unlock the true power his faith. They all knew he wasn’t meant for the clergy, they could never give him the death he needed to assuage his honour.
He joined the Inter Species Confederation Marine Corps at 18. Tulgar are extremely rare in the ISCMC, so he didn’t have to worry about his pariah-hood there. He served well with a mainly human unit as squad medic. Jokingly, someone in the squad started calling him “Bernard”. He responded with inquiries about variable form mecha. He enjoyed the sense of duty, but it never allowed him the moment to die. He was always needed by someone else, so he couldn’t fall.
Then Paraxis conquered Helios III. His family was still there. He has no idea what happened to them. Did they die in the initial bombardments? Were they alive and in the Jeronan PoW camps? Were the tales of the Tulgar death camps true? Had the agreement that allowed the Knights of the Heavy Horse an honourable escape included Tulgar of other worlds? With his status as a non-entity amongst his people he couldn’t just ask someone. It was the not knowing that sucked the most. He requested a delay on his paper work for admittance to force recon and instead be assigned to a Privateer vessel as military advisor.
All of his shirts and armour (except the dress uniform) have an iron on of a broken heart pierced by a broken sword. The dress uniform just has a small broken sword just below the marksman badge.

Personality: His happiness to be in the thick of it disturbed most of his squad mates. He greatly enjoys combat and is quite willing to settle any disagreement through honour duels. He works well in a group, after all you don’t grow up with 9 siblings and expect to be the center of attention, so is more than willing to champion someone else.
His dishonoured status is something of a stickler. While he has found he enjoys the “freedom” to be snarky, followed by a “Whot? I’m a git! Says so wright here, it does!” It’s more often caused by his frustrations at being effectively exiled for something that happened when he was legally still a child. (Tulgar are considered adults at 15.) He’s always had a dry sense of humour, but he tends to express his Hurt through being snide. Most other times he’s quite Chipper and Up Beat. In a moment of genre savvyness he’s decided that if the Universe is testing his mettle this hard, then surely great things are in store for his future. Although he can be snarky about being trustworthy, he's still a freaking Boy Scout.
Maybe his momma just raised him a little too right, maybe he’s naturally just a Doormat, but a woman’s tears are his salty kryptonite. He can not say “no” to any reasonable request from a woman and even unreasonable ones can make him stop and think about it. It extends pretty much to anything with a uterus, regardless of species. Falar aren't always so chivalrous, so he's had to attach an under barrel sonic stunner to nullify enemy female combatants without hurting them.

Yes, tulgar are wolves, in space.
Yes, his rifle is named Abbie.

[Brendan]

One of my characters is an elven rogue 5 shadowdancer (variant) 1. She has a slightly over-adventurous background. She was born in an average town on a different continent that is fairly distant and not well known. It is on most maps, but really doesn't draw much attention to itself. Anyway, she was very intelligent, ruthless, and dextrous. due to this, she was given the nickname four-arm sorin, due to how she was twice as dextrous as an average person, and, once in a fight, REALLY got the namesake. Simultaneously, Dayron Friwan gained the nickname Ol' Noarms.
Anyways, she trained and eventually was experienced enough to attempt her master plan. She stole the king's crown and scepter. Unfortunately, she was persued by MANY guards. Stealing a huge handful of scrolls of all sorts in the chase, she got onto an unmanned ship and with a boat feather, floated away. Still being chased by the now entire fleet, she used a special invention of that continent. essentially a spell detinator. It is a fine construct that rolls a negative 100 on a UMD check and, since magic needs presision, the scroll and everything near by goes boom. The enemy now thought she was dead, hit by an unusually reactive fireball.
She went the rest of the way by rowboating. It was only another few miles.
Now with oodles of cash from the jewels, she bought a mansion. Unfortunately, it was owned by a wizard before that. The wizard was a bit kooky and paranoid and, before he died, had animated the whole house, telling it only to awaken if someone other than he opened the door, and in that event to chase that person down.
Now out of cash, she joined an organized crime syndicate. as head of a small trained extraction and intimidation team, she got by. occasionally having to move due to the mansion following her like a noseless hound, she made some allies and enemies. after getting some really great poisons, she entered a contest as an alibi to scope out a new town. One of the five winners, she was put into a group with the other adventurers.

[Emlyn]

My favorite background is about a Half-elf sorcer by the name of Cai.

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Cai grew up in a small fishing village with with her elven mother and human father. Cai was always fascinated with the sea. Before she could walk she was swimming and her parents would take her out to fish. The village depended on the sea and Cai joined her father as soon as her mother would let her go. It was around this time that Cai's magical talent began to bloom. An elderly wizard, who was the chief weather forecaster, took interest in her and helped her devolve control over her skill. Life flew by, a time of nothing but happiness and love. But this could not last.

One morning, she awoke to the cries of the lookout. Dashing outside, her heart filled with dread. A large host of pirates had landed and were assaulting the village. The men from the village were already engaging but they were hopelessly outnumbered. Houses were burning and the cries of battle terrified Cai. But she swallowed her fear and ran down to the beach to help. She laid into the pirates flank with a magical barrage of flame. With her timely arrival, the men were able to rally and began to push the pirates back. But then the pirates mage launched his own attack. The old village wizard managed to block the attack, but was mortally wounded. As the mage began to cast again, Cai desperately thought for a solution. She was already exhausted and had no spells that could hurt the mage. In desperation, she tried to summon a celestial being. But the spell was too powerful and she lost control. A demon from the lower planes was summoned instead, possessing Cai.

When she regained her senses, the demon was gone but it had left a terrible mark. All around her lay dozens of dead pirates and villagers. All were marred by fire or acid or other horrible magical effects. The stench was overwhelming, a putrid mixture of human flesh and brimstone. Sobbing, she backed away from the horror that confronted her. She let out a cry as she tripped over something. When she realized what it was, she cried out in horror and scrambled away. Her mother lay before her, a gaping wound through her chest. Cationic with fear and sorrow, Cai curled into a ball and sobbed for nearly an hour.

She didn't realize that people had approached her until they began whispering. Slowly uncurling, she was confronted with the surviving men from the village. All wore grim expressions, though most were touched with fear. They had their weapons drawn and pointed at her. Fear nearly overwhelmed her again but then one voice she recognized called out her name. Turning to the voice, she saw her father. Tears streaked his weathered face and he called her name again. Finding her voice, she squeaked out her father's name. All the men relaxed slightly as they had feared that the demon was still inside her. Her father related what had transpired.

A black cloud had engulfed her and then demonic magic flavored out from it. Cai strode from the cloud, laughing manically and slaughtering any before her. Upon seeing her the men had fled the battle, but not before nearly half had died. The pirates were massacred, none survived. Cai's mother had been hiding with the woman and children but when she saw the men running she had looked down to the beach and saw her daughter. Instead of being filled with fear for herself, she had ran to her daughter, desperate to do anything to help her. She had grabbed Cai and shouted her name. Upon being touched the demon recoiled violently, sending the mother flying. It had lost it's grip over Cai and was banished once again, but not before sending one last bolt of demonic magic into Cai's mother. That had happened nearly four hours ago. Cai had lain of the beach as if dead the whole time.

By the end, Cai had completely lost all control over her emotions, sobbing bitterly. Before she could speak, accusing words rang out from the surrounding men. Kill her! She is too dangerous. She killed almost half the village! Cai could scarcely comprehend what was happening as fear overwhelmed her senses. At last her father demanded silence. Staring down at her with no pity in his eyes he declared that she was banished from the village on pain of death and that she was no longer a daughter of his. Her pleas fell on deaf ears as her father shouted that she had killed her own mother! How could that be forgivable. Instead he said that the only reason she lived was that her mother had died trying to save her.

Sobbing, Cai blindly fled the village. However, a lone girl on hostile roads will not fare well and she was captured by slavers several days later. She was taken to the nearest port where she was sold onto a pirate ship by the name of Ngaio. The crew quickly learned to avoid her after the first pirate who made unwanted advances ended up dead.

That was years ago. In time she became a powerful sorcerer and able to control the winds. Her years of service earned her some rewards and her freedom. She disliked having the profession of pirate thrust upon her but she saw no other course for her life to take. Haunted by her past, she could never shake the sadness that was set deep in her bones. Eventually, she began to enjoy some parts of her life, the sailing most of all. However, she never did get along with the captain. Then one day...

[Count Dravda]

Oh, I love writing backstories. I find it helps me flush out a character, knowing how and why he thinks and reacts in every situation. Here's one I recently wrote, and it's one of the darkest ones ever. This is a LG crusader of Heironeous or Pelor, but with an unusual twist for a paladin:

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He hadn’t always been this way. Though it seemed as if his torment had lasted for eternity, there had been a time where he didn’t regret drawing each breath. There had been a time when he was happy. It had been her, of course. Beautiful, in every sense of the word. Every time he looked at her, his heart had leapt, each night they were away he dreamed sweet dreams of embracing her, and every time he thought of her he assumed he would spend the rest of his life with her. It couldn’t be any other way.

He was a knight paladin first and foremost, however, and his duty took him away from her for long periods of time. When foreign courtesans smiled at him, and demonic temptresses offered themselves to him, his fidelity was beyond question. And when he returned to her, his sword, shield, and armor lay in a corner, forgotten along with his worries. She kept the darkness at bay that had claimed so many knights paladin before him.

He made enemies, though. When he returned home one fateful day, he sank to his knees in horror: their house lay in flames, and she was nowhere to be found. He swore an oath to find her, to not rest until he had rescued her. With each dead end and each red herring, he fought harder to stave off the horrific thought that she may have been killed already; that he would never see her again in this life.

The truth was far worse. He finally found her, three years later. He had bribed, talked, and sneaked his way into a demon cult’s headquarters. There she lay, crucified to an infernal torture machine, not dead but far worse. For three years, she had been lying there, lashed to the diabolical torture engine that had flayed away every bit of her being. Her death had taken years. Every bit of magic the cultists had ever used had come from an eternity of agony from her soul. She was not dead. She was gone: her eternal being completely erased and blotted out of existence. She had left life screaming his name, and he had never come.

He did not know how long he lay there, cradling her as tears rolled down his face. Minutes? Hours? It was interrupted by the demonic high priest entering the room. In an instant, grief boiled away under the flames of hatred. Forsaking sword and spell, he had killed the priest with his bare hands, screaming obscenities as he throttled the old man and felt his life depart from under his fingertips. He roared until he had bellowed himself hoarse, and cast away the limp carcass like a rag doll.

The remaining cultists had heard the screaming, and stood ready but shaking on the other side of the door. They were not prepared. He thundered through, burning hate having crystallized into terrifying, icy murder.

He killed them all. Tore one’s throat out. Ripped another’s jaw off. Gutted another one, actually ENJOYING watching the life leave his victim’s eyes as he struggled helplessly at the end of a yard of steel. Broke another’s kneecap before slicing his wrists and leaving him to die in a pool of his own blood. Smashed yet another’s skull in against a stone wall. Three now cowered in a corner, begging for mercy, quarter, anything. He barked a note of hideous laughter as they despaired, recognizing no empathy in his eyes: only true alien insanity. He left them hanging from the ceiling by their internal organs.

Their final agonizing screams echoed in his ears as their dark patron approached him. It had engineered the fall of many a noble knight and expected no different from this one. No sooner had the offer left its foul lips before it had been subdued and each of its limbs tied to a frantic horse. The knight whipped them in four different directions and sent the fiend shrieking back to Hell.

He stared morosely at the length of rope in his hands as he tied the familiar knot with the practiced ease of one who has done it many times. He contemplated the resulting noose before untying it with equal precision. It was not the time. There was work yet to be done. No reward awaited his service, no glorious afterlife held any allure to him. All he had left was pain, hatred, and grim determination.

-Count Dravda

[Katana_Geldar]

Some people can over do backstories though in terms of "awesome", the firts backstory I read for my Star Wars game the player had their character involved in about twenty influential htings in the last ten years. I gave it back to him with red marks all over it.

[valadil]

I bother, but only if I expect it to matter. Some GMs just don't care what the backstory is and I'm not going to waste my time writing for them.

This is the best of my backstories in recent memory. It's 14 pages though, hence the link.

[Vizzerdrix]

I once used the 3.0 heroes builder guidebook to generate a back story with random rolls. I came out with a gnome refugee living among dwarven refugees in a human city, whos family fled some great evil and was mostly casters who ran the temple. Honestly, with a few tweaks I turned that into something epic.


Shame I never got to play it :(

[The_JJ]

I'm a fan in general, though too much is a bit... silly.

I've got two great backstories, both for halfling rogues for some reason.

The first is actually a day in the life sort of thing for my baker by day catburgler by night charactor, the second is a more traditional backstory that drew heavily on the setting's history but also, because I never got to use the first one (), featured a halfling baker with roguey skills, this time with less comic relief, reluctant hero feel more retiried PTSD guy who may or may not have multiple personalities. One was the baker, the other James Bond

[Serpentine]

I think some sort of a background concept is good to have. Even just a vague outline can be enough, especially if it's filled in as you go. Good for bonuses, too... It is possible, however, to go too far. One guy in the first game I ever played wrote out a multiple-page detailed epic story for his character that was just ridiculous. For example: at around 4th level, he singlehandedly defeated a chain devil with nothing but a flare spell and a crossbow, and sometime after that (we were playing at about 15th level, so somewhere lower than that) he (also singlehandedly) defeated an army of red dragons. Literally an army, mind.

I can pretty much count the characters I've had on one hand, so here's a summary of all of them, in chronological order:

Korihel, Half-elf Ranger/Wildrunner. She was conceived when her mother was raped by a human member of a roving group of soldiers. Her tribe was horribly prejudiced against humans, and she and her mother were mostly shunned by everyone. Stories of how horrible humans are were repeated throughout her life (Favoured Enemy: Humans).
One day, they were surprised by a roaming giant. It tore Korihel's mother apart while she watched (Favoured Enemy: Giants).
Cast adrift in the world, she sought her father with intent to wreak revenge for her mother. She discovered him to be a decent man, with a family of his own. He told her of his deep regret for his actions, and explained it (but did not excuse it) by the pressure he had felt by his colleagues.
So, when I was playing her, she was roaming the world with mixed feelings of hate and... well, not-hate for humanity.

Shea, Half-orc Rogue/Catlord. As far as Shea can remember, she was born alone on the streets. She never knew her parents, and has no idea whether they're alive or dead. A few people over the years have taken her in, but inevitably something comes along and they can't look after her anymore, or they don't want to, or she is no longer of use to them, or they are taken away from her. One particularly kind person took her in for several years, and even taught her much about fighting. It was this person who gave her the magical lynxpaw she now treasures. (I can't remember, or never explained, what happened to this person)
She is used to abuse and abandonment, but is good-natured about it all. She is not very clever (Int 8ish), but has a well-developed sense of self preservation (Wis 14+, cowardly streak). She finds her most constant family in stray (and owned) felines, wherever they can be found.

Sar'Pynestae, Tiefling (3/4 elf) non-magical Ranger. Sar'Pynestae's grandfather once sought out the source of various demons that had been infesting his forest. He, and other elf warriors, tracked it down to a Gate to the Hells that had been opened, and employed with great gusto by its inhabitants. They defeated, eventually, the leader of an impending invasion and managed to close the Gate - but not before Sar'Pynestae's grandmother, a succubus tired of the eternal fighting and misery of the Hells, slipped through. She approached the elves in peace, and over time they managed to quell her natural inclination towards Evil to an unsteady middle-ground. At some point, she and Sar's grandfather fell in love, and had several children, ranging from practically elven to almost demonic. One of the more demonic offspring eventually had his own child - Sar'Pynestae, with her bright red hair, pale skin, black and red eyes (think Gambit) and small black billy-goat horns. This daughter, granddaughter to a demon, grew up wild, wholesome and good.
When Sar'Pynestae was in her teens (or the elven equivalent), a marilith searching for conscripts for the Blood Wars came across her, and whisked her away to the Hells. A rescue party, led by her own grandmother, eventually sought her out and brought her home, almost insane from her experiences. Now, she is still Good, but has a short temper that is quick to snap, and if ever she finds herself in the Hells again, there is no telling what it could do to her.*

Kariana Wyrnda, Dwarven Knight. Kariana was a member of the severely conservative and insular kingdom of Hock Barock, which closed down more than a hundred years ago for the completion of a huge secret commission - noone may enter or leave the kingdom's caverns until the commission is complete.
Her brother found a way out, and had even been trading and befriending humans and, most scandalously, elves, the on-again, off-again dire enemies of Hock Barock dwarves. Kariana found out, and finding herself unable to convince him to stop, went along to ensure his safety. When their people discovered them, in an attempt to protect her brother she stepped in and took responsibility for the whole thing. Her punishment was banishment, at least until Hock Barock is opened again (her coat of arms, which I have designed, has the large orange tombstone of "traitor" on it).
Cast from the only home she ever knew, she turned to alcohol more than even dwarves thought healthy. This caused a breakdown between herself and her only friends, and she eventually swore off alcohol entirely. She roamed around the countryside searching for good work and works to keep her occupied and fed until Hock Barock finally opens, and she can go home.
As an aside, she's been turned into an elf via reincarnation. This is going to cause problems. Also her horse drowned.

*Well, actually, there is: She would have a severe breakdown, then rise eerily calm, efficient and in control. Her alignment will change from Chaotic Good to Chaotic Neutral, and her focus will be on sheer survival at all costs - preferably of all her companions, but if sacrificing them will be her only way out, so be it.

[Aldizog]

Really depends on the campaign.

Some campaigns are like Babylon 5, where Sheridan shows up carrying a pair of massive hooks (the Black Star and Anna), and these are used to advance the plot. I'm perfectly happy doing this. I really liked one backstory I came up with for a hellbred paladin, though I never ended up running that PC.

Others are like Farscape, where Crichton's story basically starts with the pilot episode. I somewhat prefer this type of the game, where my character reacts and grows based on what happens in the campaign. Makes the game seem a bit more meaningful to the PC. The in-game events are the things that shape his goals and apsirations; they are not obstacles to be overcome in pursuit of his pre-existing goals and aspirations. (This is the one drawback I've sometimes seen to heavy backstory; the in-game quests can become an unwelcome diversion from what the PC would rather be doing.) And I just generally prefer my PC to hate drow because of something they did to the party in-game rather than something I decided they had done in the backstory.

[BobVosh]

Current character to be started on this Sunday:

LG Pally 1-Heironeous

Age of Wurms game, so for those of you who know the beginning it starts in a mining town, think 18XX's company towns. So Vladamir came to this town in hopes of a better life, but got sucked into the spiraling debt that is commonplace in such towns. I'm planning on making this the main part of his back story (only 17) where he grows more and more bitter towards overbearing companies and governments and goes towards Leninism (hence the name).

Small back story, but it is all built for the first few sessions heavily making him into the character I have planned. Although I have no clue on how age of wurms progresses. Hopefully it will work :D

[Hawk7915]

I'm more of a roll-player than a role-player, so I almost never write much of a backstory. Funnily enough the most interesting, compelling, and awesome backstory I have is for a very silly "joke" campaign...

"Gabdalf, the Off-white", Elven Wizard:

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Gabdalf was a prodigy spell caster even amongst the elves. His storied career includes single-handledy cloudkilling the entire Orc Army in the Civil Wa...I mean, the great Southern Orc/Northern Humans war, the exploration of the Tomb of Doom, the Return to the Tomb of Doom, the mass genocide of the trolls and their leader, Fuor-chan, the publication of a hundred books, including "Ley-lines and Arcane Flux: Or, why important locations can't be teleported to and how you can bypass this natural law", "The Opti-mages Guide to Being God", "HASTE! And a dozen other battle-winning buff spells", and the creation of dozens of spells and artifacts, such as "Baleful Teleport" and "Summon Scotch".

As a young adventurer, Gabdalf was left emotionally scarred by his journey to Black Watch, a tower filled with unspeakable evil. The party's rogue was drilled into a wall by golems that were utterly immune to magic, even his Orb spells. The cleric was possessed by an evil spirit and killed herself. The samurai, worthless though he was, volunteered to be "party trapfinder" and eventually set off a trap that caused him to vanish. Gabfalf and the fighter heard him screaming for almost half an hour. The fighter was driven mad by the same spirits that killed the cleric, and Gabdalf was forced to Baleful Polymorph him into a less lethal form and run away once his Dispel Magics and orb spells were depleted. Gabdalf was further embittered by the Great War, were he was used as a WMD, and his dealing with the Godfather of the Blue Dragonflight Mafia.

At the age of 900, Gabdalf decided that he was tired of this world. So, he decided to put his life's fortune into an arcane ritual known as "chain-gating", to use an Epic Spell called Genesis to create his own plane. To hit level 21, Gabdalf single-handeldy assassinated the Blue Dragonflight Don Malygnoos using Celerity/Time Stop cheese to out-action him. Gabdalf got about 5 solars into the ritual when Gygax, God of Gaming stopped him. Gary disjunctioned Gabdalf and then drained him to level 2 and locked him in wizard hell for eight long years.

In that eight year span, the Dark Lord Walton came to the land of Evanrhuul and enslaved its people with his army of golems and low, low prices. Even the Gods were powerless to stop Walton's dominion. As a last ditch effort, Chuck Norris pressed Gygax into releasing Gabdalf from his prison. As the last and oldest disciple of the ways of the LogicNinja, Gabdalf may just be civilization's last, best hope against Walton's rollback...and perhaps, through humility and the agony of being an ancient elf stuck at 2nd level, Gabdalf will find redemption for his crimes against nature and game balance.

[Akal Saris]

Heh...one of my PCs had to write a backstory explaining why his venerable elf binder was still 1st level and 300 years old. He complained that it was much harder than it seemed.

If I recall, it's that he went out adventuring, and his entire party was eaten by a troll, so he ran back to the nearest city and spent the next 150 years traumatized, hiding in his apartment and avoiding the world at large.

[BobVosh]

Heh...one of my PCs had to write a backstory explaining why his venerable elf binder was still 1st level and 300 years old. He complained that it was much harder than it seemed.

If I recall, it's that he went out adventuring, and his entire party was eaten by a troll, so he ran back to the nearest city and spent the next 150 years traumatized, hiding in his apartment and avoiding the world at large.

I would have had so much fun with explaining how I have been resurrected about 400 times. Each death more slapstick the last, more than likely. It would be a lot of fun to explain that because of this I have absolutely no fear of death, what-so-ever.

[herrhauptmann]

Probably my best backstory was a year ago. ( I made it so good partly because I powergamed my chain fighter a little more than my DM wanted)
Each member of the party received a letter stating something along the lines of "Hello, we have heard your name and wish to ask your help. If you are interested, report to Town X and ask for Sheriff R."

My backstory was sent to the DM in the form of a reply letter. Summarized:
Dear Sheriff R,
Thank you for your offer, and I humbly accept. However, I must warn you, I do not believe I am the Joebob of Springfield to whom this letter was addressed.
I was born Danny of Denver in the year X. At age 14 my hometown was attacked by slavers. During the march to their base several escape attempts were made, possibly the most successful led by my father. Certainly the fewest victims were retrieved after taht one, among them the girl I was to marry in a few years.
I was large and strong, so I was sold for a good price to work mines and other hard labor despite my repeated escape attempts. (That was how I justified 1 level in rogue, I was good at picking locks, but not fighting my way out). After about 5 years, I was working in a desert gem mine when some adventurers attacked, among them Joebob of Springfield. During the fight, I crushed my overseers head with a rock before he could join in, while some of the party was enveloped in a mist, when it cleared, both adventurers and slavers were gone (taken to ravenloft is my favorite way to get rid of useless NPCs), and Joebob was dying with sword in his chest.
He told me to take the slaves to an oasis in the desert and wait 2 days, help would come for us, then he died.
We fled (carrying his body) and as promised help came. From them I learned Joebob's name and home. I traveled to his home, seeking his family so I may give them his possessions. I also took his name and adopted his favored weapon (chain). If he lost his life for me, then I would live my life glorifying his. (Was much better phrased originally).
The next part of my backstory was an account of my travels for a year or two. A return home to see if my own family still lived. As well as an encounter with a troll while guarding a caravan, which let me metagame a little when the party was attacked by a troll.
Letter was closed by stating,
If my own aid is unwanted compared to Joebob, I will understand and will not press myself further.
Sincerely
Joebob of Springfield.



And no, we did not speak to a man called Sheriff R, nor were there any towns called Springfield or Denver.

[DSCrankshaw]

I always have a backstory. One of my favorites was a dwarf who, while fleeing from an undead army ransacking her home, got separated from the rest of the group. Lost in the wilderness, she was eventually set upon by wolves, and cried out to Obad-Hai for help. He did help, by turning her into a wolf herself. And that was my first dwarf druid, using the 3.5 PHB2 shapeshifter variant. She ended up thinking of herself more as a wolf who turns into a dwarf than the other way around.

My absolute favorite I'm not sharing, though. I'm keeping it a secret from my group (only the DM knows), and the last thing I want to do is reveal it too early.

[herrhauptmann]

I would have had so much fun with explaining how I have been resurrected about 400 times. Each death more slapstick the last, more than likely. It would be a lot of fun to explain that because of this I have absolutely no fear of death, what-so-ever.

I had a character like that. I imported my favorite UO character into D&D years ago, and when I described him, DM said he sounded like a high level character. If I was to keep the backstory, I had to explain why I was only 3rd level.
Well, his wife was murdered 4 years past, and he kept searching for her killer. However, he tended to die in unexpected ways before he found the guy. So most of my body was still a mishmash of scars from my various deaths.
Chunk out of collarbone? Axe from an orclord.
Oozing ribs and neck pain? Neck broken by vampire necromancer, and eaten by zombies.
Missing 2 ribs on left side? Eaten by a wyvern after being stung. etc

[Lord Thurlvin]

My Only backstory I've ever made (I'm the DM out of necessity, which doesn't mean I don't enjoy it, but anyway, moving on..,) was this:

Duralzo Lock, Sorcerer 13 (heavy focus on draconic feats)

Durlazo Lock was born out of wedlock, and was left with his father, Ladinoch, high priest of Boccob in the city of Norat. He grew up in the library, fitting into society just fine in spite of his obvious draconic ancestry and the fact he was a sorcerer. He was only a junior member in the church's hierarchy by the time a seemingly unstoppable gnoll army forced his conscription. By this time, his father had died, leaving to Duralzo all of his possessions, the magic items among them the only things that kept Duralzo alive throughout the war. Although he slew many gnolls, there were simply too many, and all surviving human forces were recalled to the capital for the kingdom's last stand. It was here Duralzo would have died, if it were not for the intervention of Sharazahad, a seemingly insane wizard of ridiculous power. Just as an elite gnoll unit had Duralzo pinned down and out of spells, Sharazahad appeared and proceeded to single-handedly wipe out the entire gnoll army. Sharazahad, finding Duralzo interesting, abducted him and placed him in stasis for 500 years, releasing him at the end of this time to travel with another group of adventurers Sharazahad had found interesting. Lacking any reason to stay, since everyone he had ever known was long dead, Duralzo decide to journey with them beyond the lands of his home.
(Even though Duralzo doesn't know this, Sharazahad's placement of Duralzo with this specific group of people is not without an ulterior motive. He's planning on destroying reality and he wants this group to be as powerful as possible so they can "succeed")

[Ormur]

I've never really made a character with much of a back story as a player. My first character I'm still playing was an elven wizard that just popped out of nowhere. We didn't know anything about the world (and I guess neither did the DM) but I made something up a few levels later when the DM said he'd give us XP for it (how cynical of me). The other campaign had more of a back story but the group is so large that there's little scope for individual role playing. My character comes from a far away country and is an insufferable swashbuckling coward with pretensions of nobility.

I've probably given most of my significant NPCs back stories that were more detailed as a DM.

The most elaborate one I have made yet is paradoxically for a powergaming dungeoncrawl that will probably only last two or three sessions. It's gestalt, we start at 16th level and my build is really convoluted so I figured I'd have to have a suitable back story explaining that.

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My character is the chaotic neutral Halfling Hastefer. He started his life in a primitive Halfling tribe in the wilderness as the son of the tribe's most powerful warrior that derived his power from his lion spirit. He was trained by his father to get in touch with his spirits and to channel his rage in battle but it was not to be since he was neither as hardy nor as strong as his father.
Hastefer was more interested in studying the stars in the clear night sky, collecting every bit of knowledge he could from stories and dancing around the bonfire at night in celebration of a new hunt. While his tribe appreciated the gifts of this unusually charming and astute boy he had to help in feeding his tribe to so he helped in tracking animals and fending of dangerous creatures or enemies. Despite his frailty and his tendency to let his mind wander he was excellent at hitting smaller animals and foes with his daggers and the tribe soon found that his dancing and magic could help in fights that didn't require stealth.
Then the relative peace of his tribe was threatened my mysterious creatures (whom I've yet to determine as a favoured enemy) and new tactics had to be devised to battle them. Hastefer learned to be stealthier and to use his agility to do a little more damage. He even ventured down into the dark caves that were the lairs of the creatures to spy on them. It was on one such solitary mission that he seemed to have no luck finding a trace of them. He ventured deep into their lair to find nothing but tracks leading out. The creatures had evaded him and as he followed their tracks out into the forest he realized they'd been tricked, all the creatures had ventured out and taken a detour around the forest to strike at his tribe from out of the plains where they wouldn't be expected. He hurried back through the forest to his tribe only to find out he was to late. His entire tribe and family had been slaughtered. He searched for survivors but found none before he was spotted and managed to evade them in the forest. Having lost everything he cared for he lived as a hermit in the forest hunting for food with only the companionship of a wolf that he managed to attract (I was thinking about taking the wild cohort feat).
After a year of traveling aimlessly through the wild forests of the world was ambushed by creatures similar to those that destroyed his tribe. He was chased through the forest until he saw a monastery on top of a hill. Out of nowhere appeared some humanoids that jumped on the creatures chasing Hastefer, killing them instantly with their daggers. They were the guardians of the monastery that specialized in fighting evil with their spells and daggers. Tired of the solitude he sought shelter and was granted. The members of the order were moved by his story and impressed by his fighting skills and offered to train him further even if his background was unusual for their particular fighting style. He grasped the basics of their teachings and served as a scout and support for them on their excursion in return. For the first time in his life he came in touch with civilized society when he traveled with them to towns and cities. He had trouble adjusting to those crowded habitats at first but the opportunities for amassing knowledge and studying people of all kinds intrigued him. In one large town he found an institution that specialized in the study of stars and their magic. Since this was one of his childhood fascinations he asked to join as a student and was accepted because of the recommendations of the head of the monastery.
Hastefer was a quick learner even though his eccentricities tried the patience of his teachers and fellow students. He studied the magic of music not by playing sophisticated instruments or singing melodies of mathematical precision but by dancing his primitive tribal dances while chanting. Instead of studying the movements of the stars from the school's observatory tower he ventured out into the forest at night with a few rudimentary instruments. He was often absent for days on end and having a massive wolf following him everywhere didn't sit well with professors that hardly ever left their towers either. Nevertheless he graduated with honours and was grudgingly offered a position at the school. To the relief of many he declined, the discipline and sedentary nature of academia didn't suit his restless soul.
Now with access to more powerful magic than ever he sought to complete his training at the monastery as it was the only thing besides himself and his wolf that he felt he had an obligation to. They gave him a wide berth and he got plenty of opportunities take out his anger on creatures like those that destroyed his life. He continued to accept missions for the order as long as they suited his talents and in-between he wandered in the forest or honed his skills.

...And that's how I justify a Lion Totem Barbarian1/Ranger3/Scout2/Daggerspell Mage1/Scout9//Bard10/Sublime Chord2/Daggerspell Mage4.