Need a character background written up?

[Tawmis]

Hi Tawmis. This is a character I started playing recently and am curious as to your take. It is in Eberron using the recently published sourcebook Eberron: Rising from The Last War. Thelanis is the Faerie Court (feywild) in Eberron.

Name: Serellia
Setting: Eberron
Class: Warlock 3 (Archfey, Pact of the Chain)
Race: Half-Elf
Gender: Female
Background: Guild Merchant
Alignment: Neutral
Eldritch Invocations: Agonizing Blast, Voice of the Chain Master.
Str 10, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 10, Wis 12, Cha 18.

Character concept: Serellia grew up in the eastern part of the Eldeen Reaches. It is rural farmlands which used to be part of Aundair before The Last War. Her parents are half-elven merchants who sold goods to the farmers in the Eldeen Reaches. But she had dreams of becoming a wizard. She applied to Arcanix (the most prestigious magic college in Eberron). But she was rejected three times -- her Intelligence 10 was too mediocre. Frustrated, she began researching how she could make a pact with an archfey. The vast forests of the Eldeen Reaches contained several portals to Thelanis. She encountered agents of a powerful archfey of the Summer Court. They offered to take her to Thelanis to meet their master. And so she went ...

She now has a pseudodragon familiar named Bright Flame.

Sorry this took awhile! Life has been crazy now that I am forced to work from home. Surprisingly, I now want to walk away from my computer, since it's the same computer I am using for work.
So what was fun - while I was preparing to write this, I was just messing around on Instagram, and hit live.
So I thought, "Hey. Why not instagram live this? No one is going to see it because it's like 12:30am. But just something different."
So I did. LOL Only two of my friends chimed in! :D
Anyway, this was fun to write... I did take one different spin - you mentioned she did "research into the archfey" - I thought, since she failed in Arcanix, and seemed the town was fairly simple (in my mind as I wrote it), she might not have such access... So I ended up, doing something a little different.
Hope it still works for you!
As always, please leave feedback! It keeps the thread bumped and alive! (It was on page 3 today! /sad face)
As always, hope you enjoy!
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Life was simple for Serellia. Her parents owned a small piece of land where they grew and sold their goods to the local farmers of the Eldeen Reaches, where she and her family lived. Her life consisted of getting up early in the morning, before the sun or rooster would even awaken, and begin prepping for the day. She would help her mother milk the two cows they had, wrangle the sheep who had wandered too far, and picked the apples and oranges from the trees, and mashed the grapes her father had collected in the vineyard.

This was Serellia’s life, each and every day. Wake up, do these chores, be exhausted, sleep and awaken the next day to repeat the process. When she went with her parents to the town to sell their goods, she’d seen plenty of adventurers who passed through their small town, often times stopping for a quick rest before continuing on their journey. Something that captured Serellia’s attention was a wizard who had passed through the town. He’d been an older gentleman, a human in his sixties, who stopped to perform tricks with his magic to entertain the children. Seeing sphere of light and dancing magical faeries springing from the old man’s finger tips was something Serellia had never seen and only dreamed of. And from that moment on, that’s all she could think of.

She had asked her mother and father from that day going forward, if she could become a wizard. Her father had repeatedly told her such notions were ridiculous and she had a wonderful and safe life here in the Eldeen Reaches, and that when the time came, she would marry and bare children of her own and continue life in the Eldeen Reaches. Her mother tried to be more understanding, and while she agreed with her husband, she was not as blunt and tried to be a little more gentle with her declining the request of her daughter.

This did not stop Serellia, however. Each and every night after dinner, where as before, she’d be too exhausted to even stay awake, she would use this time to ask her parents again about becoming a wizard. Her father eventually broke down and explained that one simply does not become a wizard. It takes time, dedication, endless studying, and that by the time she learned magic, she would be as old as the human who she saw in the village that had triggered this notion in her mind.

One night, after asking again, as she had done every night and being declined again, Serellia finally broke down and cried and raced to her room. Her mother however, spoke to her father. “We can keep denying her wish, but this will lead to her being unhappy. If it comes down to it, we may not lose her to adventuring as we both think, but rather, lose her when she runs away because she does not feel as though we support her.”

“What would you have us do? Approve this notion of her becoming a wizard? She’s sixteen and has no formal training in such matters. She will be laughed at. Scoffed. We are saving her from that pain and embarrassment.”

“Sometimes,” the mother countered, “we must first experience pain to understand it.”

The following day, after dinner, Serellia asked again, as if the hundreds of previous nights never existed, and much to her surprise, her father smiled and said, “I have put a loan on some of the land to pay for you to go to Arcanix.”

Serellia was about to try and counter the argument as she’d done many times before, but stopped short – surprised at the words she’d heard from her father. “Are you serious?” she stammered in surprise.

“We’ve thought about it, and realized we never want you to feel like we do not support you, even if we may disagree,” her father said with a smile. She raced around the table and hugged her father tighter than she’d ever done before.

For the next year, every three months, she applied at Arcanix, the most prestigious magic college in Eberron. All three times she’d been rejected, due to the mentors believing she was not intelligent enough to be worthy of the Arcanix College name. After her third attempt, now low on the money her parents had provided her, and disheartened, she returned home, feeling shameful in her failure. However, despite the financial loss, her parents did not judge her. They were thankful that she’d made it there, strived for her dreams, and returned home safely.

Feeling heartbroken, her father excused her from doing chores, to allow her the time to regain her composure and refocus her life’s goals. On one of those weeks, she’d ventured aimlessly into the vast forests of the Eldeen Reaches. While sitting on a stone that sad on the edge of a gently flowing river, she looked up and saw a pure white owl sitting on the other side, on a similar rock, simply staring at her.

“What are you looking at?” she asked, not expecting an answer.

“You,” it replied.

Serellia looked up surprised. Had it said ‘you’ and ‘who.’ She stared at the owl for a long moment, as if waiting to see if it would say ‘you’ again. She shook her head and muttered, “I am losing my mind.”

“No,” the owl said, matter-of-factly.

Now she was certain the owl hadn’t said ‘who’ – the word ‘no’ was distinctly heard coming from the owl.

She stood up, shocked. “What are you?” she asked.

“Owl,” it replied.

It wasn’t much. Simple one word answers. But it was definitely coming from the owl.

“Follow,” it said, and suddenly turned and began to fly away.

“I must be losing my mind,” she repeated, as she threw down the rock and crossed the shallow river, chasing the owl. The owl stopped at a branch and said something in a language that Serellia could not understand, and the very fabric of the tree seemed to rip apart in blue energy. “Come,” it said, then flew into the portal.

Serellia repeated again, that she was losing her mind, but did so.

She fell, for what seemed to be an eternity, before landing on roses that seemed to be made of sheep’s wool. All around her, everything was beautifully vibrant, translucent, and glowing. The owl she’d followed had waited for her before continuing its flight. She followed and came to stand among many different fey that seemed to be gathered around a large circular ring of mushrooms. The mushrooms were six feet tall – taller than any she’d seen – and glowed purple, blue, red and green – and shifted through the color spectrum as easily as she drew breath (which, admittedly, at the time was fairly difficult).

A large male stood, looked at the owl and looked at Serellia. “What have you brought me today, my wise friend?”

“A child in desperate need of learning magic; wanting a better life than she has, though,” the owl turned its head, without moving its body, “she has a good home life. She just wants more and believes magic might be the way to do just that.”

“Is that so?” the man said, extending his hand. “Come forward child. My wise friend here is rarely wrong in who he brings here. My name is Oberon and I believe I can help you.”

“You could teach me magic?” she asked.

“I can infuse you with magic,” he smiled. “With a portion of my own magic. It will be up to you to learn to control it and master it.”

She stepped back. “Wait. Why would you do this for me?”

“Because the mortal world is at war,” Oberon replied, “and soon the fey will undoubtedly be dragged into it when wizards tear open our portals to feed off of our endless magic here. I need eyes on the mortal world and infusing you with my magic allows me to peer through your eyes whenever I need. You will be helping me. Helping the fey,” he gestured to the pseudodragon, satyrs and centaurs and pixies and sprites all gathered around, staring at her in wide eyed wonder. He extended his hand, “Will you take my offer?”

She placed her hand into his and felt the crackling energy of the feywild pierce her heart, her soul, her mind, before she collapsed backwards in a peaceful sleep. She awoke on the river bed where she’d seen the owl, and looked at the moon. It was in the same position it was when she’d left.

She heard a purring sound, and looked to see a pseudodragon fluttering in the air next to her. It’d been the same pseudodragon she’d seen next to Oberon. Had it followed her? Was it a gift? Would it teach her? She raced home and the pseudodragon followed close behind.

Day in and day out, she learned more, as her body crackled with energy from the fey. She was truly imbued with power. She showed her mother and father, who were taken aback, and worried. Her father and mother both encouraged her to seek training, and despite everything, packed things for her and sent her on her way into the world, pseudodragon following close behind, which she named Bright Flame.

[Whit]

Ozarg (Oz) Strongvoice Half Orc fighter outlander in chain mail armor and a heavy two handed sword. An intimidating figure until he pulls out his lute and uses his skill proficiency in performance. How does this Half Orc fighter know how to sing in Elvish and pluck an instrument. Speaks common orc and elvish.

He traveled from the outlands and through towns to finally Waterdeep.

[WadeWay33]

Tawmis, your writing ability is stunning. Have you ever thought of creating your own campaign setting? Because I’d buy it in a heartbeat, and I know others who’ve commented would too.

[Ogre Mage]

The owl stopped at a branch and said something in a language that Serellia could not understand, and the very fabric of the tree seemed to rip apart in blue energy. “Come,” it said, then flew into the portal.

Serellia repeated again, that she was losing her mind, but did so.

She fell, for what seemed to be an eternity, before landing on roses that seemed to be made of sheep’s wool. All around her, everything was beautifully vibrant, translucent, and glowing. The owl she’d followed had waited for her before continuing its flight. She followed and came to stand among many different fey that seemed to be gathered around a large circular ring of mushrooms. The mushrooms were six feet tall – taller than any she’d seen – and glowed purple, blue, red and green – and shifted through the color spectrum as easily as she drew breath (which, admittedly, at the time was fairly difficult).

...

Day in and day out, she learned more, as her body crackled with energy from the fey. She was truly imbued with power. She showed her mother and father, who were taken aback, and worried. Her father and mother both encouraged her to seek training, and despite everything, packed things for her and sent her on her way into the world, pseudodragon following close behind, which she named Bright Flame.

Tawmis,

I love this. There's an evocative Alice in Wonderland vibe which fits well for an archfey warlock. Given that, I think it is fine that her journey to Thelanis was more of a surprise discovery than the more studied effort I originally envisioned. Interestingly, an owl played a significant role in the first background you wrote for me as well.

http://forums.giantitp.com/showsingl...&postcount=589

The scenes of her daily life pre-warlock were handled great. When we are young we often want things intensely and it hurts to be denied. Like many young people she stumbled as she tried to find her path in life. I think all of us have been there in one way or another.

I was curious to see who you would create for her patron and she rather lucked out with Oberon. By D&D lore he's probably one of the nicer ones you could get. She's also lucky she had supportive parents. If we get to high enough level I do eventually plan to take the lucky feat with this PC.


Two things --

“Because the mortal world is at war,” Oberon replied, “and soon the fey will undoubtedly be dragged into it when wizards tear open our portals to feed off of our endless magic here. I need eyes on the mortal world and infusing you with my magic allows me to peer through your eyes whenever I need. You will be helping me. Helping the fey,” he gestured to the pseudodragon, satyrs and centaurs and pixies and sprites all gathered around, staring at her in wide eyed wonder. He extended his hand, “Will you take my offer?”

Per Eberron: Rising from the Last War the civil war which wreaked havoc across Khorvaire is now over. Of course, simmering tensions remain. Our campaign is set in this post-civil war period. In the Eldeen Reaches, the primary tension is with Aundair which would like to reclaim the eastern farmlands of the Eldeen Reaches (where Serellia is from) as Aundair territory. Does Oberon think the war is still actively going on? Or maybe he thinks the current tense peace won't last.

She had asked her mother and father from that day going forward, if she could become a wizard. Her father had repeatedly told her such notions were ridiculous and she had a wonderful and safe life here in the Eldeen Reaches, and that when the time came, she would marry and bare children of her own and continue life in the Eldeen Reaches. Her mother tried to be more understanding, and while she agreed with her husband, she was not as blunt and tried to be a little more gentle with her declining the request of her daughter.

The correct grammar is "bear children" not "bare children."

Anyway, I agree that your writing is stunning! Thank you so much. I sent a donation. Now, if only this coronavirus crisis would pass so I could resume playing this character ...

[Tawmis]

Ozarg (Oz) Strongvoice Half Orc fighter outlander in chain mail armor and a heavy two handed sword. An intimidating figure until he pulls out his lute and uses his skill proficiency in performance. How does this Half Orc fighter know how to sing in Elvish and pluck an instrument. Speaks common orc and elvish.
He traveled from the outlands and through towns to finally Waterdeep.

Consider this added!

Tawmis, your writing ability is stunning. Have you ever thought of creating your own campaign setting? Because I’d buy it in a heartbeat, and I know others who’ve commented would too.

Hey now! Don't you go gettin' me all misty eyed!
I do have my own homebrew campaign setting that has been evolving for... like 15 years now. I am finally happy with where it's at. There's a few aspects of it I'd like to develop further.
But I never considered selling it in any shape and form, because it's just another homebrew, like the millions of others out there, I feel like.

Tawmis,
I love this. There's an evocative Alice in Wonderland vibe which fits well for an archfey warlock. Given that, I think it is fine that her journey to Thelanis was more of a surprise discovery than the more studied effort I originally envisioned. Interestingly, an owl played a significant role in the first background you wrote for me as well.
http://forums.giantitp.com/showsingl...&postcount=589
I was curious to see who you would create for her patron and she rather lucked out with Oberon. By D&D lore he's probably one of the nicer ones you could get. She's also lucky she had supportive parents. If we get to high enough level I do eventually plan to take the lucky feat with this PC.

Oh, wow. That's an utterly weird coincidence. As I am pretty sure that's the only two times I've used an owl. And they were both for you.
So how that came to be (I wish I had saved the live stream) is - I was talking about how I am not familiar with the Eberron setting (other than the D&D MMO, which I believe uses the Eberron setting). So, the information about the war and what not, had to be quick google searches... as well, as finding an Archfey... looking at your alignment, I was at first going to do a Hag that I found; but then landed on Oberon who was neutral and enjoyed the "common fey" (which made me think he enjoys the "common people" of the fey... which made me think, he'd appreciate a "common girl" from the mortal realm). I noticed he had two animals that are typically at his side - one being an owl. An Owl seemed to be the more mystical creature, so that's where I landed.

The scenes of her daily life pre-warlock were handled great. When we are young we often want things intensely and it hurts to be denied. Like many young people she stumbled as she tried to find her path in life. I think all of us have been there in one way or another.

I think telling her every day life was important to her development, as to her being a "simple commoner" as a reason she might have never got the education to enter the Mage Academy. She was, for all intent and purposes, "a simple farm girl" who had no exposure or understanding of magic, other than a wizard who showed all the kids in the village some tricks.

Two things --
Per Eberron: Rising from the Last War the civil war which wreaked havoc across Khorvaire is now over. Of course, simmering tensions remain. Our campaign is set in this post-civil war period. In the Eldeen Reaches, the primary tension is with Aundair which would like to reclaim the eastern farmlands of the Eldeen Reaches (where Serellia is from) as Aundair territory. Does Oberon think the war is still actively going on? Or maybe he thinks the current tense peace won't last.

Yeah; not being familiar with Eberron or the The Last War, I had to google what I could. So it could be that Oberon simply thinks mortals are too fragile and frequently war for the most trivial of reasons; so imbuing her with his magic to be his eyes, it just one way of him keeping an eye on mortals.

The correct grammar is "bear children" not "bare children."

Yeah, I also noticed a typo (re-reading it now) where I said:
While sitting on a stone that sad on the edge of a gently flowing river, she looked up and saw a pure white owl sitting on the other side, on a similar rock, simply staring at her.

Should have read:
While sitting on a stone that sat on the edge of a gently flowing river, she looked up and saw a pure white owl sitting on the other side, on a similar rock, simply staring at her.

Anyway, I agree that your writing is stunning! Thank you so much. I sent a donation. Now, if only this coronavirus crisis would pass so I could resume playing this character ...

Thank you for the compliment and the donation! It's greatly appreciated! And yes, here's to the Clerics of the world finding a cure.

[trctelles]

Hey Tawnis, salutations from Brazil! Since all this Corona thing happened, me and my friends started a new campaign on Roll20 to have some fun in these trying times. Anyway, these are the specks of my character:

Name: Alek, 27 years old

Setting: Homebrew, but it revolves around a zombie epidemic

Class: Fighter 2 (Will eventually become a Battle master)

Race: Human (variant)

Gender: Male

Background: Haunted One, from curse of Strahd

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Feat: Crossbow Expert

STR: 8 | DEX: 16 | CON: 14 | INT: 12 | WIS: 14 | CHA: 10

Character concept:
Alek lived with his parents until he was around 5 yo. One day, when he was gathering wood on the nearby forest, he was kidnapped by a coven of Hags. He was raised by them, and used by them to lure other kids to be eaten/ used to produce more Hags. It took him a couple of years to understand what happened to the kids he helped kidnap.

For years, he was used as bait, playing in the woods to attract kids (mainly human and young elf’s from the villages nearby). Once he became a teenager, the Hags saw potential on him to serve as an enforcer and to protect the coven. They started training him, but since he was physically weak, they gave him a crossbow, and he became really good with it.

Whenever he failed to see potential invaders, or when they were bored, the Hags experimented with him, giving him potions with unknown effects, warping his flesh and disturbing his head. Many times he tried to escape their grasp, but every time they were able to track him down. He found out too late that the Hags used his baby teeth to make several amulets, that helped them to keep Alek on check.

With his help, they became bolder over the years, kidnapping more and more kids, even invading houses to take them from their beds. When he was a kid, he used to cry himself to sleep every single night for the things he had done. When he became older, he tried to take his life multiple times, but the Hags curse on him prevented him from ever being successful.

Whenever he was left alone on the lair, he studied the tomes and notes they left scattered, and discovered a ritual that prevented the Hags from finding someone. The problem is: he needed hair from the head of the Hag that wanted to find him. Every single night, he would have to give a drop of his blood and burn a strand of hair from the Mother Hag.

One fruitful night, the people from the villages nearby became fed up with the monsters taking their children, and started a witch hunt to bring them down. When they were finally found, Alek took advantage of the chaos and cut a handful of hair from the head of the Mother Hag and fled.
Finally free, he saw fit to try to right the wrongs he had done to the world by working as an adventurer, and, one day, to kill those that made his life a torture.

In our current adventure, he already died once (at level 1, but it was part of my GMs plan to kill someone, so we owed an important NPC a favor) during a zombie attack.

Personality: Alek is a shy, but strong willed person. His twisted and sickly appearance made it hard for people to be kind to him after he escaped. He always try to be help people in need, and he feels a strong connection to any kid that seem to be suffering. He has his own moral code, and always try to be a good person, but there is evil inside his heart, he can feel it. Even though he knows that what he did is wrong, he can’t deny the thrill of the hunt he felt, and how accomplished he was when he shot down those who tried to invade the coven.
Battle tactics: the way I imagine him fighting is very similar to John Wick. Kitting people and using maneuvers to better position, always seeking for the best angle to shoot people with his crossbow.

Current events: he befriended a paladin named Mikail, who is his partner in his new adventures. His new friend does not yet know the full extent of his past, but he is aware that Alek did some really bad stuff on his past, and is trying to atone for his crimes.

I know it’s kind of cliché by now, but sorry for my English ( I haven’t written anything in a long long time)

[KyleG]

Got the Echo Knight sorted for tuesdays Two shot but if you want to flesh him out I've added him below. So back to my regular character creation schedule lol

Take your pic, what sparks your interest. The Damaged Warforged Survivor or the Stoic Lone Dwarf in need or a Path.

Warforged Rogue Scout: Currently names Wildchild (might be a call sign?) Last mission in a war long forgotten to the passage of time he was part of a team sent behind enemy lines. For some reason has been offline since. Has survivors guilt as the only survivor of previously mentioned mission. Look for a home, new family in this new world i think. I want to rp this character almost like he cant stand still, fidgety (think 11th doctor).
or
Hill Dwarf War Cleric: Also unnamed currently (seems to be a theme). A bounty hunter of sorts, retrieving lost dwarven artifacts??? Why/How he became a cleric of a war god Im not sure. Of the 4 he is the weakest of my ideas currently. Although im pretty sure he is armed with a crossbow. (some Mandalorian inspiration)
or
Half-Orc Fighter Echo Knight: Kage Runar, a consecuted soul born into this 3rd, or is it 4th life not in the body of a Krynn but into that of a Half-Orc. Not that he knows much, the memories are hard to separate from his own, well his own from this life, its confusing. And he wasnt identified and given the normal training to deal with this. Now he strives to make the most of this life as is the way of the consecuted.

[WadeWay33]

I’m not sure if I’m allowed to ask twice, but if I am put me farther back on the list because I’m not going to be using this character for a while.

Ion Dursk
LN
Fighter, Psi-Knight
He was a normal person until he had a near-death experience by an arcane rival of his. He called out into the darkness moments before his demise, and something answered. Instead of becoming a warlock, however, this being infused inside of him, giving him psionic powers. He adventures to control and stop arcane magic, and harness some martial ability in the process.

EDIT: He's a human originally, but the near-death experience might warrant a race-change. I'll leave it up to you!

EDIT 2: Since Mystic is officially dead, I swapped it to a Psi-Knight.

[Tawmis]

Hey Tawnis, salutations from Brazil! Since all this Corona thing happened, me and my friends started a new campaign on Roll20 to have some fun in these trying times. Anyway, these are the specks of my character:
Name: Alek, 27 years old
Setting: Homebrew, but it revolves around a zombie epidemic

Consider it added!

Got the Echo Knight sorted for tuesdays Two shot but if you want to flesh him out I've added him below. So back to my regular character creation schedule lol
Take your pic, what sparks your interest. The Damaged Warforged Survivor or the Stoic Lone Dwarf in need or a Path.

Consider it added!

I’m not sure if I’m allowed to ask twice, but if I am put me farther back on the list because I’m not going to be using this character for a while.
Ion Dursk
LN
Mystic
He was a normal person until he had a near-death experience by an arcane rival of his. He called out into the darkness moments before his demise, and something answered. Instead of becoming a warlock, however, this being infused inside of him, giving him psionic powers. He adventures to control Arcane magic and to make sure no one can be hurt how he was.
EDIT: He's a human originally, but the near-death experience might warrant a race-change. I'll leave it up to you!

You can ask as many times as you want! If there's multiple for one person; I will at least do one, if there's others waiting, do theirs, and then go back to the additional ones! So ask away! I love that people ask for me to do these!

Hello Tawmis,
I've got a character that I've been playing for a while and I've never bothered to flesh out his backstory. Think you can help with that?

Piklokken, an Illusion Wizard, is a complete pacifist; under no circumstances will he physically harm another creature. He doesn't even know any damage spells! Instead, he focuses on illusions, buffs/debuffs, and other battlefield control spells. He's a middle-aged (read: ~300 year old) 7'4" Loxodon whose normal outfit consists of a longcoat, goggles, and a Derby hat. Currently, his place of residence is a large city situated in the middle of the ocean.

Name: Piklokken
Class: Illusion Wizard 11
Race: Loxodon
Gender: Male
Background: Inheritor (I've an idea that he inherited his code of ethics, not anything physical.)
Alignment: Neutral Good Upon reflection, adhering to a code is Lawful Good.
Setting: Homebrew, but think proto-Ebberon. Lightning rails, skyscrapers, lifts, and guns are all recent inventions, and air travel is on the cusp of being invented.

So because it's a homebrew, that means I don't know about the world...
And for my own sake and sanity when I write; I love to name things - it gives me a vision.
So for example, I named both the island, and the city - and gave them an origin.
This may not work for you, if you have them named already - or who knows, you may use what I provided.
So for the Loxodon (I've never played one) - I wanted to... give a message.
So, there's mention of bugbears in this... and what they do... is a reference to people in the real world...
You will see what I mean when you get there...
It helped me also explain why he's a pacifist and took the path that he did.
Please leave feedback! This was fun to write!
Feedback also keeps the thread bumped!
For reference - the type of bugbear I used can be found here: https://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Bugbea..._(5e_Creature)
As always, hope you enjoy!
============================================

In the center of the Darkstone Isle sat a bustling city by the name of Avaden. The city of Avaden sat nicely nestled in the center of the circular mountain range for which the island was named after – The Darkstone Mountains, whose snowcapped tops sent a cold and biting chill on this winter evening. Legend states that Darkstone Isle rose due to massive volcanic activity on the sea floor; and with it, rose up the unique mountains of unusual dark metals and stone. When the island was discovered, trade routes were quickly established to mine the precious stones and metals that were discovered. Avaden started as a small mining community that eventually became the bustling city that it is now.

Piklokken, a Loxodon, towered over seven feet tall made his way through the streets. Most of the humans had grown accustomed to seeing Piklokken walking through the streets; but even those who had seen him a hundred times sometimes were still caught by surprise by the towering, greyish figure who resembled something between a large human that had elephant like features. Despite the gawks and stares he often generated, it did not bother Piklokken; he’d grown accustomed to it. He’d simply tip his derby hat in their direction and continue along his way. He pulled his long coat closer as he turned a corner and a cold gust of wind greeted him. His trunk flailed for a moment in response to the unexpected burst of cold.

Once Piklokken reached his home, which had to be custom fit for his height and width, he took off his goggles which had been resting on his derby hat; then removed his hat, and hung them both on the coat rack next to the door. He walked to his kitchen where he began brewing tea; then to his greenhouse to ensure the plants he was growing were not suffering too much with the cold. The majority of the plants he grew were used specifically for his spellcraft, for Piklokken was a well versed Wizard.

It was in his garden that he noticed a naryak fly – a small, light blue fly insect that devours the proteins of most flowers. Most would kill a naryak fly immediately, not only because of their destructive behavior, but how rapidly they can reproduce, since they are asexual and able to reproduce without the need of a mate if they’ve eaten well. Piklokken, however, despite the threat, and some of the damage the naryak fly had already done in the few short hours that Piklokken was not home, was not one of those who would kill this insect.

Instead, Piklokken captured it in a class, and trapped it with paper to prevent it from flying away. He made his way to the front door, and quickly opened the door and shoved the glass outside, with a firm shake so that the naryak fly would know to escape and rapidly closed the door behind him. He looked back at his greenhouse and knew he’d need to look for other nayak flies.

It was Piklokken’s own past that had made him the pacifist he was today. In his homeland, far from Darkstone Isle, his own people were hunted down almost to extinction by Bugbear Doomclaws. These vicious bugbears were far more feral than the standard bugbears; and it’s believed that deep, unrelenting vile anger and hatred that made these bugbears so ferocious is also what made them so deadly. Their claws were laced with lethal poisons that prevented regenerating one’s health naturally; only magical means seemed to heal these gashes, if the attacked individual survived. They were also immune, undoubtedly to their sheer savagery, to any form of mind altering spells that the Loxodon had at their disposal such as: Charm, Fear, Paralysis, or even Sleep. The bugbears not only killed the Loxodon for the sheer pleasure of murder and mayhem; but they also made use of the Loxodon’s leathery grey skin, as well as the tusks, which were used as status symbol among their kind; often adorning the homes or thrones of their chiefs.

Piklokken was young, but he had watched almost his entire herd get wiped out. When he and the others finally decided to flee they ran through countless villages where the bugbears had struck and Loxodon were left, their skins cut from their bodies, their tusks broken off, to rot in the warming sun, as flies and other wildlife consumed the remains. It’d been something that Piklokken could never get out of his mind. He grew up wanting to know how he could have made a difference – and so, abhorring what he saw violence had led to – Piklokken began to study magic. However, he focused on spells that were passive; spells that might have somehow got through and subdued the minds of the bugbears. He knew no true damaging spells; because in truth, even now, he did not want to hurt anyone – he simply wanted to find a way to subdue them and deal with the problem in a more peaceful manner.

For years he’d traveled the world, learning from other wizards; studying endless tomes of magic, spending endless nights, not sleeping as he read volumes of knowledge in the great halls throughout the world. He took a deep breath and wondered… was he ready to go out into the world now, after all of these years, to try and make a difference?

[Jaryn]

Hi Tawmis, I'm playing a few more games than usual (online) as my social life has taken a nose dive for obvious reasons.

I'm also going through a bit of a cleric phase at the moment. Would love to see what you make of this one when you have the time. Don't overdo the screen while you're wfh!

Malcer Stormwind
Cleric of Mystra

Born and raised in Silverymoon as part of a happy family, he has always been in love with magic which he sees as a thing of wonder and beauty in and of itself. Became a novice in the temple of Mystra, and was then assigned to the Silverwatch in a supporting role. Became quite good at solving crime.

Upon advancing to a fully fledged Servant of Mystery he left the city to go adventuring, which allows him to both so good and seek out and preserve interesting magical items. His tendency to wander does lead him to sometimes butt heads with more established members of the church hierarchy as he doesn't want to be tied down to a specific temple. Unbeknownst to him, he is being observed by a couple of Harper agents who are studying him with an eye to recruitment if he proves suitable.

EDIT: Made some amendments to the concept, mostly because I thought it could be fun to do the Harper thing in play rather than character creation.

[Tawmis]

Hi Tawmis, I'm playing a few more games than usual (online) as my social life has taken a nose dive for obvious reasons.
I'm also going through a bit of a cleric phase at the moment. Would love to see what you make of this one when you have the time. Don't overdo the screen while you're wfh!
Malcer Stormwind
Cleric of Mystra

Added! Thank you!

Ozarg (Oz) Strongvoice Half Orc fighter outlander in chain mail armor and a heavy two handed sword. An intimidating figure until he pulls out his lute and uses his skill proficiency in performance. How does this Half Orc fighter know how to sing in Elvish and pluck an instrument? Speaks common, orc and elvish.
He traveled from the outlands and through towns to finally Waterdeep.

This was a lot of fun to write!
I did a bit of what's called "Tawmis-Verse" where I "connected" origins together with characters who I've written or used as NPCs (as in this case) before with other origins...
Tyrell Stormshadow, a NPC bard I made up appeared twice previously in this thread:
https://forums.giantitp.com/showsing...&postcount=530
https://forums.giantitp.com/showsing...&postcount=534
He seems to show up when someone needs guidance about their "destiny"... so is he a god of some kind, some angelic figure... or just a weird bard... up to you and your DM... or this could be his only appearance for simplicity's sake for you...
You will notice I start your character with a different last name... don't worry... not a typo... it all comes full circle.
Also explain how he knows Elvish in a fun way... and how he knows how to use the lute...
I'd love feedback - post in this thread - it helps keep it alive and bumped!
As always - enjoy!
=================================================

Ozarg Strongsteel sat at the edge of the forest, a small campfire crackled in front of him, warming his body. Shadows danced along the trees that hid things in the depths of their own shadows; beyond where the flickering fire light from the campfire could not peer.

Ozarg Strongsteel wore chainmail armor, whose links and metal had seen better days. He’d been in enough fights to have his armor severely damaged, but never cared enough to ever have it fixed. If anything, it showed how battle hardy he was; and he wore the damaged armor as proudly as he wore the battle cuts across his arms, legs, chest and face. These were all markers that should he’d survived dangerous encounters.

For most of his life, he’d traveled with his father’s side of the family – an orc tribe known as The Shadowmaw. However, six weeks ago, he found himself in direct conflict with the Dark Eye’s Chieftain, an orc named Gruin Bloodsky. The Red Eye Orc Clan had been dominating the lands, their aggressive behavior gaining attention. Gruin Bloodsky believed they were the way – that the other orcs in the world had lost their way – their edge – their desire for war and battle. The Red Eye Clan lived for it, thrived in it, and died for it. Gruin Bloodsky had met with their Shamanistic leader, Boon Blackcrow, who encouraged Gruin to fold his tribe into the Red Eye Clan, and that he would take those willing to come to the ‘fountain of faith’ as Boon Blackclaw called it.

Ozarg however did not approve of the Red Eye Orcs ways; they murdered children and defenseless women. Gruin Bloodsky proclaimed that these children would otherwise grow up to fight against the Red Eye; so better to murder them now. That had been the final straw for Ozarg. He had little connection to the tribe after his father had died a few years ago; during a battle against a nearby feuding orc tribe battle had taken his life.

“That’s someone who is lost deep into their thoughts,” a voice said, snapping Ozarg from his walk through his memories. In an instant, he had drawn his sword and was standing, blade outstretched in the direction the voice had come from. The figure, human by the size of it, stood just outside the campfire’s light, held their hands up. “I mean you no harm friend.”

“I have no friends,” Ozarg growled.

“I can see that,” the human said, glancing around the campfire. “In times like these, out in the wilderness, we all need friends. We need someone to watch our backs. After all, we must all sleep some time, do we not?” The human lowered his arms.

“Or to stab us in the back,” Ozarg replied.

“True,” the human said with a tilt of his head, and itched his long, grey streaked beard. “Well, I promise you I am not here to stab you in the back, front, side, whether you’re awake or asleep. I am just looking for some warmth on this chilly night and the embers and soft orange glow of your campfire seemed to be a good place to find such warmth.”

Without lowering his weapon as the human stepped closer to the campfire, Ozarg looked at him. “You would sit with a half-orc?”

The human laughed. “My friend, have sat with Half-Orcs, Minotaurs, Tabaxi, even dwarves,” he said with a chuckle. The human raised his hands again and said, “As you can see, I carry no weapons; only this lute.”

“So you’re a bard,” Ozarg growled.

“You say that with such distaste,” the human smiled.

“Your kind does nothing but steal,” Ozarg replied.

“My kind? Bards? Is that to say your half-orc nature makes you a murderer?” the human raised an eye brow and sat down at the campfire, despite the sword still pointed at him. “I would think not. Or else you would still be with your brethren.”

“What do you mean I’d still be with them,” Ozarg asked, lowering his weapon. “How did you know I left them? Have you been following me?”

“Following you?” the human seemed to give it some thought. “No. A wild guess, really. As I said, you were out here alone. So you’re not with other adventurers. So chances are you were with someone not too long ago; after all, it’s dangerous to travel alone.”

“And you, old man, seem to be traveling alone,” Ozarg pointed out.

“I’m not,” the human replied.

Ozarg was alarmed, suspecting others in the woods.

“I’m with you,” the human finally said. “My name is Tyrell Stormshadow. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?” he said, extending his hand.

“No, I’ve not heard of you, and no I will not shake your hand,” Ozarg growled, “I’d rather keep all my fingers and what little coin I have.”

“I’ve no need of your coin,” Tyrell replied, as he slid his lute from his side and strummed it. “I’ve made all of my money by playing the lute, sharing stories I’ve heard. Most nights, I don’t even made money, but get rooms and drinks for free, because my inns welcome the crowds I bring in for them – and so, the money I bring in for them. So typically food, drink and room are all paid for.”

“And yet, here you are, out on the road tonight,” Ozarg replied.

“Here I am indeed,” Tyrell smiled, as if he were perfectly comfortable. “Perhaps destiny put me here for a reason?”

“Destiny?” Ozarg laughed. “I used to believe in such nonsense. Though the clan I was a part of would rise to greatness. But my chieftain turned out to be weak.”

“Perhaps your destiny was not to be a follower,” Tyrell said, as he continued to play the flute, “but a leader?”

“Me? A leader? Of what?” Ozarg scoffed.

“Your own destiny,” Tyrell answered, as if it’d been obvious. He strummed the strings a few more times. “So I know your father was an orc, based on what you told me. Your mother? Did you know her? I know the origins of most half-orcs is not a pleasant one…”

“I never met her,” Ozarg said quickly. “She was one of the slaves the tribe had kept from one of their raids. She died a few years after giving birth to me.”

“How did she die? Did you ever hear?” Tyrell pushed as he continued to softly strum the strings.

“One of the other males had wanted her as a slave, my father refused. The opposing orc said my father had grown weak and had fallen in love with her,” Ozarg replied. “When my father challenged the orc because he’d been insulted – my mother threw herself on the opposing orc’s blade to stop the fight. She died shortly after. My father grieved for her loss.”

“But,” Tyrell said, with yet another strum of the lute, “she was an elf was she not?”

Ozarg looked at Tyrell. “How would you know that?”

“Your eyes,” he replied with another strum, “as well as your ears show a hint of your half-elf heritage that courses through your veins; though your orcish features are most dominant. So if your father grieved for her, you say? So did he love her? Did an orc truly love an elf? Do the Orcs not hate Elves?”

“Traditionally, yes,” Ozarg replied, seemingly feeling entranced by the steady strum of the lute. As he continued to listen, he could hear Tyrell asking him more questions about his father, his mother, how he’d grown up, and found himself willingly answering even the deeper most painful questions.

In his mind, he saw a world where his father was still alive; his mother, a beautiful elf, also alive, him as a young child in a wooden cabin not far from here, living peacefully. He saw his father playing with him and teaching him how to fight; and his mother, loving him, showing him compassion, caring and education in the world that was large and full of wonders.

The days were filled with joy, laughter and love; and though it seemed that the world was only the three of them, all three of them were so peaceful and happy to have one another.

As he came out of the trance, the sun was beginning to rise in the distance. The human was gone, the embers were flickering, fading; and on the rock, was the human’s lute. Ozarg waited for awhile to see if the human had gone to go hunt for food and would return, but as the day grew longer, there was no sign of the human.

Taking the lute with the intention of returning it, Ozarg strummed it as Tyrell had, and found that he was quite proficient in it. He began to sing a song; one of the many songs his mother had taught him while he had been in his dream state and suddenly realized he’d been singing in Elvish.

How had that happened? Had he learned to play the flute and speak his mother’s language while under some weird trance? He shook his head, packed his bags, and continued on the road, slinging the lute over his back, so that it rested peacefully next to his long sword. When he came into the first town, he introduced himself, with a strum of the lute as Ozarg "Oz" Strongvoice....

[Ortho]

So because it's a homebrew, that means I don't know about the world...
And for my own sake and sanity when I write; I love to name things - it gives me a vision.
So for example, I named both the island, and the city - and gave them an origin.
This may not work for you, if you have them named already - or who knows, you may use what I provided.
So for the Loxodon (I've never played one) - I wanted to... give a message.
So, there's mention of bugbears in this... and what they do... is a reference to people in the real world...
You will see what I mean when you get there...
It helped me also explain why he's a pacifist and took the path that he did.
Please leave feedback! This was fun to write!
Feedback also keeps the thread bumped!
For reference - the type of bugbear I used can be found here: https://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Bugbea..._(5e_Creature)
As always, hope you enjoy!

Thank you! This is really well written and I love it. That being said, I don't think I can use it for Piklokken, unfortunately. I probably should've mentioned that the campaign I'm in is fairly lighthearted, so I'm gonna get a lot of weird looks if I try and introduce something this dark. But that's on me; your writing is very, very good. Thanks again!

Also, I'm not sure how you managed this, but you portrayed the homebrew world with surprising accuracy. The only details I'd really have to change around are the names. So well done on the accuracy front.

[Whit]

Thanks for the great story. I felt like I was reading from a novel. I don’t know how you have the time to do this for everyone but I really want you say THANK YOU!
I would love to see everyone’s character with their backstory as an NPC book.

This was a lot of fun to write!
I did a bit of what's called "Tawmis-Verse" where I "connected" origins together with characters who I've written or used as NPCs (as in this case) before with other origins...
Tyrell Stormshadow, a NPC bard I made up appeared twice previously in this thread:
https://forums.giantitp.com/showsing...&postcount=530
https://forums.giantitp.com/showsing...&postcount=534
He seems to show up when someone needs guidance about their "destiny"... so is he a god of some kind, some angelic figure... or just a weird bard... up to you and your DM... or this could be his only appearance for simplicity's sake for you...
You will notice I start your character with a different last name... don't worry... not a typo... it all comes full circle.
Also explain how he knows Elvish in a fun way... and how he knows how to use the lute...
I'd love feedback - post in this thread - it helps keep it alive and bumped!
As always - enjoy!
=================================================

Ozarg Strongsteel sat at the edge of the forest, a small campfire crackled in front of him, warming his body. Shadows danced along the trees that hid things in the depths of their own shadows; beyond where the flickering fire light from the campfire could not peer.

Ozarg Strongsteel wore chainmail armor, whose links and metal had seen better days. He’d been in enough fights to have his armor severely damaged, but never cared enough to ever have it fixed. If anything, it showed how battle hardy he was; and he wore the damaged armor as proudly as he wore the battle cuts across his arms, legs, chest and face. These were all markers that should he’d survived dangerous encounters.

For most of his life, he’d traveled with his father’s side of the family – an orc tribe known as The Shadowmaw. However, six weeks ago, he found himself in direct conflict with the Dark Eye’s Chieftain, an orc named Gruin Bloodsky. The Red Eye Orc Clan had been dominating the lands, their aggressive behavior gaining attention. Gruin Bloodsky believed they were the way – that the other orcs in the world had lost their way – their edge – their desire for war and battle. The Red Eye Clan lived for it, thrived in it, and died for it. Gruin Bloodsky had met with their Shamanistic leader, Boon Blackcrow, who encouraged Gruin to fold his tribe into the Red Eye Clan, and that he would take those willing to come to the ‘fountain of faith’ as Boon Blackclaw called it.

Ozarg however did not approve of the Red Eye Orcs ways; they murdered children and defenseless women. Gruin Bloodsky proclaimed that these children would otherwise grow up to fight against the Red Eye; so better to murder them now. That had been the final straw for Ozarg. He had little connection to the tribe after his father had died a few years ago; during a battle against a nearby feuding orc tribe battle had taken his life.

“That’s someone who is lost deep into their thoughts,” a voice said, snapping Ozarg from his walk through his memories. In an instant, he had drawn his sword and was standing, blade outstretched in the direction the voice had come from. The figure, human by the size of it, stood just outside the campfire’s light, held their hands up. “I mean you no harm friend.”

“I have no friends,” Ozarg growled.

“I can see that,” the human said, glancing around the campfire. “In times like these, out in the wilderness, we all need friends. We need someone to watch our backs. After all, we must all sleep some time, do we not?” The human lowered his arms.

“Or to stab us in the back,” Ozarg replied.

“True,” the human said with a tilt of his head, and itched his long, grey streaked beard. “Well, I promise you I am not here to stab you in the back, front, side, whether you’re awake or asleep. I am just looking for some warmth on this chilly night and the embers and soft orange glow of your campfire seemed to be a good place to find such warmth.”

Without lowering his weapon as the human stepped closer to the campfire, Ozarg looked at him. “You would sit with a half-orc?”

The human laughed. “My friend, have sat with Half-Orcs, Minotaurs, Tabaxi, even dwarves,” he said with a chuckle. The human raised his hands again and said, “As you can see, I carry no weapons; only this lute.”

“So you’re a bard,” Ozarg growled.

“You say that with such distaste,” the human smiled.

“Your kind does nothing but steal,” Ozarg replied.

“My kind? Bards? Is that to say your half-orc nature makes you a murderer?” the human raised an eye brow and sat down at the campfire, despite the sword still pointed at him. “I would think not. Or else you would still be with your brethren.”

“What do you mean I’d still be with them,” Ozarg asked, lowering his weapon. “How did you know I left them? Have you been following me?”

“Following you?” the human seemed to give it some thought. “No. A wild guess, really. As I said, you were out here alone. So you’re not with other adventurers. So chances are you were with someone not too long ago; after all, it’s dangerous to travel alone.”

“And you, old man, seem to be traveling alone,” Ozarg pointed out.

“I’m not,” the human replied.

Ozarg was alarmed, suspecting others in the woods.

“I’m with you,” the human finally said. “My name is Tyrell Stormshadow. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?” he said, extending his hand.

“No, I’ve not heard of you, and no I will not shake your hand,” Ozarg growled, “I’d rather keep all my fingers and what little coin I have.”

“I’ve no need of your coin,” Tyrell replied, as he slid his lute from his side and strummed it. “I’ve made all of my money by playing the lute, sharing stories I’ve heard. Most nights, I don’t even made money, but get rooms and drinks for free, because my inns welcome the crowds I bring in for them – and so, the money I bring in for them. So typically food, drink and room are all paid for.”

“And yet, here you are, out on the road tonight,” Ozarg replied.

“Here I am indeed,” Tyrell smiled, as if he were perfectly comfortable. “Perhaps destiny put me here for a reason?”

“Destiny?” Ozarg laughed. “I used to believe in such nonsense. Though the clan I was a part of would rise to greatness. But my chieftain turned out to be weak.”

“Perhaps your destiny was not to be a follower,” Tyrell said, as he continued to play the flute, “but a leader?”

“Me? A leader? Of what?” Ozarg scoffed.

“Your own destiny,” Tyrell answered, as if it’d been obvious. He strummed the strings a few more times. “So I know your father was an orc, based on what you told me. Your mother? Did you know her? I know the origins of most half-orcs is not a pleasant one…”

“I never met her,” Ozarg said quickly. “She was one of the slaves the tribe had kept from one of their raids. She died a few years after giving birth to me.”

“How did she die? Did you ever hear?” Tyrell pushed as he continued to softly strum the strings.

“One of the other males had wanted her as a slave, my father refused. The opposing orc said my father had grown weak and had fallen in love with her,” Ozarg replied. “When my father challenged the orc because he’d been insulted – my mother threw herself on the opposing orc’s blade to stop the fight. She died shortly after. My father grieved for her loss.”

“But,” Tyrell said, with yet another strum of the lute, “she was an elf was she not?”

Ozarg looked at Tyrell. “How would you know that?”

“Your eyes,” he replied with another strum, “as well as your ears show a hint of your half-elf heritage that courses through your veins; though your orcish features are most dominant. So if your father grieved for her, you say? So did he love her? Did an orc truly love an elf? Do the Orcs not hate Elves?”

“Traditionally, yes,” Ozarg replied, seemingly feeling entranced by the steady strum of the lute. As he continued to listen, he could hear Tyrell asking him more questions about his father, his mother, how he’d grown up, and found himself willingly answering even the deeper most painful questions.

In his mind, he saw a world where his father was still alive; his mother, a beautiful elf, also alive, him as a young child in a wooden cabin not far from here, living peacefully. He saw his father playing with him and teaching him how to fight; and his mother, loving him, showing him compassion, caring and education in the world that was large and full of wonders.

The days were filled with joy, laughter and love; and though it seemed that the world was only the three of them, all three of them were so peaceful and happy to have one another.

As he came out of the trance, the sun was beginning to rise in the distance. The human was gone, the embers were flickering, fading; and on the rock, was the human’s lute. Ozarg waited for awhile to see if the human had gone to go hunt for food and would return, but as the day grew longer, there was no sign of the human.

Taking the lute with the intention of returning it, Ozarg strummed it as Tyrell had, and found that he was quite proficient in it. He began to sing a song; one of the many songs his mother had taught him while he had been in his dream state and suddenly realized he’d been singing in Elvish.

How had that happened? Had he learned to play the flute and speak his mother’s language while under some weird trance? He shook his head, packed his bags, and continued on the road, slinging the lute over his back, so that it rested peacefully next to his long sword. When he came into the first town, he introduced himself, with a strum of the lute as Ozarg "Oz" Strongvoice....
Need a character background written up? I'd be happy to write one up for you! Now with over 150 character backgrounds written! How can you help me? Not required, but appreciated, if you're so inclined! <3

Check out my 5e Module The Secret of Havenfall Manor over at DMsGuild.com! (If you check it out - please rate, comment, and tell others!)

[Tawmis]

Thank you! This is really well written and I love it. That being said, I don't think I can use it for Piklokken, unfortunately. I probably should've mentioned that the campaign I'm in is fairly lighthearted, so I'm gonna get a lot of weird looks if I try and introduce something this dark. But that's on me; your writing is very, very good. Thanks again! Also, I'm not sure how you managed this, but you portrayed the homebrew world with surprising accuracy. The only details I'd really have to change around are the names. So well done on the accuracy front.

Thank you for the compliments! Bummer that you won't be able to use it. You could take out the part about why he's a pacifist and just leave it that he's got his reasons.

Thanks for the great story. I felt like I was reading from a novel. I don’t know how you have the time to do this for everyone but I really want you say THANK YOU!
I would love to see everyone’s character with their backstory as an NPC book.

Thank you for the compliment also! I truly do enjoy writing these! It helps keep my brain calm (it's a storm of crazy writing ideas, and it's difficult to focus) - so when I get a challenge to write something I can focus on, it really helps get that "need" out of me to write something. So writing these is always such an honor for me, especially if people end up using them. As for them being in an NPC book, I do take these and sell them (each book is about 50 pages) on DMsGuild. This thread has helped me create 6 such books so far. In my signature there's the module I wrote (nothing to do with the characters), but will get you to my profile over on DMsGuild to see the character backgrounds being available.

[Tokuhara]

Name: Rafiq
Race: Bugbear
Gender: Male
Class: Fighter (headed to Battlemaster)
Background: Mercenary Veteran (The Chill)
Alignment: Neutral

Personality Traits: I’ve lost too many friends, and I’m slow to make new ones. I have a crude sense of humor.
Ideal: Independence. When people follow orders blindly, they embrace a kind of tyranny. (Chaotic)
Bonds: I’ll never forget the crushing defeat my company suffered or the enemies who dealt it. Those who fight beside me are those worth dying for.
Flaw: I made a terrible mistake in battle that cost many lives, and I would do anything to keep that mistake secret.

Keepsake: Banner of The Chill attached to his weapon (Glaive currently)

[Tawmis]

Name: Rafiq
Race: Bugbear
Gender: Male
Class: Fighter (headed to Battlemaster)
Background: Mercenary Veteran (The Chill)
Alignment: Neutral

Added. Since some people have been running more humorous campaigns; I wanted to ask if this was a serious or humorous one? (Mostly because a lot of the traits are on the tragic side, but the "Order of the Chill" seems like it might be on the funny side - as in "Chill out, bro" type thing or "Netflix and Chill"). So I just want to make sure I get it right for you.

BTW: Your Inbox here on the forum is full. Was just going to PM and ask but getting an error that your PM box is full.

Hey Tawnis, salutations from Brazil!
Name: Alek, 27 years old
Setting: Homebrew, but it revolves around a zombie epidemic
Class: Fighter 2 (Will eventually become a Battle master)
Race: Human (variant)
Gender: Male
Background: Haunted One, from curse of Strahd
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Feat: Crossbow Expert
STR: 8 | DEX: 16 | CON: 14 | INT: 12 | WIS: 14 | CHA: 10

Character concept:
Alek lived with his parents until he was around 5 yo. One day, when he was gathering wood on the nearby forest, he was kidnapped by a coven of Hags. He was raised by them, and used by them to lure other kids to be eaten/ used to produce more Hags. It took him a couple of years to understand what happened to the kids he helped kidnap.
For years, he was used as bait, playing in the woods to attract kids (mainly human and young elves from the villages nearby). Once he became a teenager, the Hags saw potential on him to serve as an enforcer and to protect the coven. They started training him, but since he was physically weak, they gave him a crossbow, and he became really good with it.
Whenever he failed to see potential invaders, or when they were bored, the Hags experimented with him, giving him potions with unknown effects, warping his flesh and disturbing his head. Many times he tried to escape their grasp, but every time they were able to track him down. He found out too late that the Hags used his baby teeth to make several amulets, which helped them to keep Alek on check.
With his help, they became bolder over the years, kidnapping more and more kids, even invading houses to take them from their beds. When he was a kid, he used to cry himself to sleep every single night for the things he had done. When he became older, he tried to take his life multiple times, but the Hags curse on him prevented him from ever being successful.
Whenever he was left alone on the lair, he studied the tomes and notes they left scattered, and discovered a ritual that prevented the Hags from finding someone. The problem is: he needed hair from the head of the Hag that wanted to find him. Every single night, he would have to give a drop of his blood and burn a strand of hair from the Mother Hag.
One fruitful night, the people from the villages nearby became fed up with the monsters taking their children, and started a witch hunt to bring them down. When they were finally found, Alek took advantage of the chaos and cut a handful of hair from the head of the Mother Hag and fled.
Finally free, he saw fit to try to right the wrongs he had done to the world by working as an adventurer, and, one day, to kill those that made his life a torture.
In our current adventure, he already died once (at level 1, but it was part of my GMs plan to kill someone, so we owed an important NPC a favor) during a zombie attack.
Personality: Alek is a shy, but strong willed person. His twisted and sickly appearance made it hard for people to be kind to him after he escaped. He always try to be help people in need, and he feels a strong connection to any kid that seem to be suffering. He has his own moral code, and always try to be a good person, but there is evil inside his heart, he can feel it. Even though he knows that what he did is wrong, he can’t deny the thrill of the hunt he felt, and how accomplished he was when he shot down those who tried to invade the coven.
Battle tactics: the way I imagine him fighting is very similar to John Wick. Kitting people and using maneuvers to better position, always seeking for the best angle to shoot people with his crossbow.
Current events: he befriended a paladin named Mikail, who is his partner in his new adventures. His new friend does not yet know the full extent of his past, but he is aware that Alek did some really bad stuff on his past, and is trying to atone for his crimes.
I know it’s kind of cliché by now, but sorry for my English ( I haven’t written anything in a long long time)

First and foremost, your English is amazing. Most people can't even write in a second language, so be proud.
Second, I really enjoyed the details you provided - so I took it and expanded on it.
I didn't write about Alek's first death, since that sounds like those details were already hammered out between you and your DM.
So I focused on the abduction of Alek, what he endured, and how he escaped.
I changed how he escapes, from how you mentioned it (let me know if that's OK) - I enjoy the idea that people know of these three hags; but don't know how to find them.
And that gives Alek a reason to try and hunt them down himself, one day.
I also elude to the hags mentioning an epidemic (which they may or may not have known about, up to you and your DM), if they foresaw the "zombie apocalypse."
Anyway, I'd love ANY feedback you have!
I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy what I got here!
================================================== =====


“Alek, do not go far,” he heard is mother call out as he ran up the hill to gather wood to light the fire for tonight’s dinner.

“Yes mother,” he rolled his eyes. She’d always been concerned about him going too far into the woods. His mother was fearful of the things that dwelled in the dark shadows of the woods and had gone as far as creating a ward around their home. At one time, his mother, according to the stories Alek’s father had told him, had been a great and powerful wizard for a nearby king, and had given up her lavish life to be with her father, who was nothing more than a simple guard of the kingdom.

Alek had always enjoyed hearing the tales his father spoke of; most of which his mother would discourage and claim to not be true; one of them being that she had been such a powerful wizard who worked for a nearby king. Alek admittedly had never seen his mother use magic in the five years he’d been alive; but then she always said that there were things in the shadows that fed upon magic and perhaps that’d been why she’d never used it.

“Well,” a woman’s voice said from the shadows of the tree line. “Aren’t you a strong boy? Helping your mother collect wood for the fire?”

Alek looked up and the shadows from the trees seemed to cover her face in complete darkness; but somehow the glow of her eyes shined through the dark. “Who are you?” he asked. “Do you live nearby?”

“I live very close,” she replied, “very close indeed. My name is Kavi’lana. And I could use your help.”

“I don’t know,” Alek said gripping the wood he’d gathered more tightly. “My mother does not approve of me entering the woods. Perhaps you could come down the hill with me and speak with my mother and father and they can help you?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “They are too large. You see, I have a rabbit that has gotten beneath several rocks not far from here and I fear she may be stuck. Someone your size can easily crawl into the hole she went in and get her out for me.”

“How far is it from here?” Alek asked.

“Not far,” Kavi’lana replied, “not far at all. Just over this small hill here. Come to me and you will be able to see it clearly – a mound of rocks.”

Alek set the wood down and approached the woman; and just as he got in arm’s length the woman reached out with lightning speed reflexes and pulled him into the shadow of the trees.

Inside the cabin, Alek’s mother suddenly screamed out. She sensed that her son had gone past the protective ring she’d put around their land. She quickly dropped the plates that crashed and shattered on the ground and ran up the hill. She saw a collection of small logs and next to them the amulet she’d given her son to always know if he’d stepped outside the ring. She glared into the shadows of the tree and began to weep madly.

Alek’s mother had, at one time, been a wizard for the king and used her resources to have the woods searched for two weeks; but as she suspected there’d been no sign. Even when she was a wizard for the king, there’d been reports of children missing and when she used her magic she could detect dark fey magic, just as she’d done at the edge of the woods when Alek went missing, and suspected a coven of hags was operating somewhere in the area.

None of the missing children were ever found.

Alek included.

As a prisoner of the hags, there’d been three hags – each distinctly different that Alek came to know. Kavi’lana was what his mother would have called a ‘green hag’ – and by the looks of things, Kavi’lana led this Coven. Kavi’lana’s true form was that of green skin, long, black fingernails and as a stark contrast, she had purple eyes and long, white, flowing hair, with the skulls of various animals woven in as braids.

The second hag had purple skin, no pupils (her eyes were simply green – an Alek supposed, in his later years, this had been the sign of envy). Her hair was also jet black; but she had horns near her forehead and wore necklaces full of various sized skulls – none of which were animal – they were all human or humanoid in nature. She’d gone by the name of Va’lana.

The third was one who looked sickly; her skin was light blue, as if she were already dead. Her hair always looked as if it were wet and woven with seaweed. Her face was distorted as if she’d been drowned and someone how returned to life. She only wore a bottom dress, composed of seaweed; leaving her bare top exposed, her sickly ribs jaunting from her flesh. Her eyes were large, bloated, and green in color. This, though seemingly the weakest of the three, had been the one that frightened Alek the most. She’d gone by the name of Nela’lana.

Alek believed, when he’d first been captured that the hags would devour his soul; it’s what he’d always heard – they devour souls, and the greater the innocence the more powerful they became, which is why hags abducted children so frequently. Nela’lana seemed the most eager to devour Alek, and perhaps that’d been why, even after years of servitude to the hags, he’d always feared her the most – aside from her appearance had also been the most ghastly to behold.

The hags began discussing how they could use Alek to lure children towards the hags; as the years had pressed on, parents had become increasingly more cautious – they’d never suspect a child that worked for the hags. Kavi’lana, the green hag, then approached Alek, and spoke in the Common tongue, explaining, “We are not like other hags,” she lied. “We have foreseen the future and a great epidemic is on the rise. Soon the dead will outnumber the living. We are trying to gather the children and pull them into the Feyworld where they – like you – will never have to fear the coming epidemic. We need you to gather the children, Alek. We need you to save the world.”

This seemed to be a rather large burden to throw on a child’s shoulder, but they knew Alek possessed a heart of pureness and that sure a dire situation would certainly call to him to take action. For the next five years, he helped the hags lure the children to them and once he did so, he never saw them again.

When he was ten, he finally asked, “Where are the other children? All of those children I’ve helped save?”

“We have teleported them to the Feyworld,” Kavi’lana lied. “They have new homes now. They are happy and free.”

By this time, Alek was listening to the Hags when they spoke in their Dark Fey tongue; and he began to understand more and more of what they said, but he never let them know. For example, he learned that the “lana” after their names, was the mark of their Coven which translated to (quite loosely) as “Sisters of the Darkwood.” One night, the three hags debated in their native tongue over leaving Alek alone while they tended to Coven matters. Nela’lana had wanted to kill Alek, which was no surprise, since she’d been the hag that seemed the cruelest of the three. But she had been outvoted and Alek was left in their cavern home alone. This was the first time he’d tried to run away, but every direction he ran always led him back to the cave, and he realized that the Hags undoubtedly protected their home – and prevented him from escaping – similar to how his own mother had supposedly protected their home. So lost in desperation, Alek even tried to take his own life to be free; and found that the hags had created a spell that prevented him from inflicting self-harm. In one of the tomes, he’d learned the truth about the children as well – they were never taken away to a better life – the hags devoured their life essences, just as he’d always heard about.

Still, he kept that secret that he knew the truth since the hags trusted him when they left to tend to their Coven business. On one such occasion when he was left alone again, while the hags left to attend to Coven business, he now took the time to read through their tomes of spellbooks now that he knew how to both understand the words they spoke and read them (though he’d been far better at understanding what they said rather than reading their written word). But again, years of being left alone at times, he had taken the opportunity to read through their tomes time and time again. As Alek grew older, the hags knew they could use him to help hunt for food while they tended to their dark magic; knowing he could not leave the distance defined by the hags’ vile magic. He had become proficient at using a crossbow, but naturally learned, the spell that prevented him from harming himself, also prevented him from inflicting harm on the hags as well.

One night, he found what he had needed; a spell that was called ‘Twisting the Veil.’ It would allow him to bypass any protective barrier. While the hags slept, he grabbed a strand of each of theirs, wove it tightly together and managed to brush against the corner of a table enough to cut his skin and draw his own blood. He dropped his blood upon the knot and spoke the words:

Bound and tied, woven inside
Blood drawn, barriers gone
Allow me, to walk free

With that, he ran outside – and for the first time, ran further than he’d ever managed to run before, without being returned to the hags’ home. Behind him, he heard the howling fury of the three hags and could swear he could feel Nela’lana’s frigid breath on his neck. He closed his eyes and pushed himself harder than he ever had – and suddenly felt the warmth of light. He opened his eyes, too late, to see he was running for a cliff, and before he knew it, had stepped over the edge. He screamed as he fell, to what he’d assumed was his death, but instead landed in a river that washed him down stream.

He was recovered and brought back to health.

He vowed he would one day find the three hags and put an end to them and get justice for all the children they’d devoured.

[Tokuhara]

It's a serious campaign. The Chill is actually a mercenary band in Forgotten Realms (link to their lore: https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Chill ). I understand the confusion. Also, lightened my inbox, so their shouldn't be any major issues

[Whit]

Hello Tawmis. Hope all is well. When you have time, here are two odd characters for you.
I played these character already but I believe your story writing will bring it alive and fun for others.


1. Name Frawd, My name is FRAWD!
Race Hill Dwarf, but denies he is a dwarf.
Class Sorcerer wild magic
Background Hermit.
During a day of mining he located a shiny glow of energy behind the rocks. Excited upon his discovery, he mined the crack more until a fissure of wild magic exploded; bathing him in glowing magic. Every other Dwarf had vanished in the explosion. He ran, his mind fractured, he ritually keeps his head and beard shaven clean prestidigitation cantrip. If I can find what happened, i can find who I am.


2. Drugar, the bald Dwarf. Just don’t say it to his face
Race Mountain Dwarf
Class Barbarian Totem
Chaotic neutral
Poor Drugar had a rough childhood. He was bald and could not grow a beard. His family ashamed, his clan mocked him, he had to grow up brawling most of the time. He grew strong and fit just in time for the orcs invasion And a discovery of what he was to become

[Tawmis]

Hello Tawmis. Hope all is well. When you have time, here are two odd characters for you.
I played these character already but I believe your story writing will bring it alive and fun for others.
1. Name Frawd, My name is FRAWD!
Race Hill Dwarf, but denies he is a dwarf.
Class Sorcerer wild magic
2. Drugar, the bald Dwarf. Just donÂ’t say it to his face
Race Mountain Dwarf
Class Barbarian Totem

Added to the list!

Got the Echo Knight sorted for Tuesdays Two shot but if you want to flesh him out I've added him below. So back to my regular character creation schedule lol
Half-Orc Fighter Echo Knight: Kage Runar, a consecrated soul born into this 3rd, or is it 4th life not in the body of a Krynn but into that of a Half-Orc. Not that he knows much, the memories are hard to separate from his own, well his own from this life, its confusing. And he wasn't identified and given the normal training to deal with this. Now he strives to make the most of this life as is the way of the consecrated.

Quick question on this one - You mention not being the body of a Krynn (which is a Dragonlance continent) so then I thought maybe you meant a Ki-rin? I know that the Echo Knight stuff comes from the Kryn Dynasty. And from what I read, it doesn't need to be the body of anything? So a Half-Orc could learn it:

In campaigns outside Wildemount, there is no factional control of dunamancy, so the implementation of this arcane discipline is entirely open. Talk to your Dungeon Master about how dunamancy might fit into their campaign, and how your characterÂ’s story could be woven into that lore.

So I was wondering did you want him to be a spirit that's passed through various people and ended up in the Half-Orc still?

[trctelles]

“Alek, do not go far,” he heard his mother call out as he ran up the hill to gather wood to light the fire for tonight’s dinner.

“Yes mother,” he rolled his eyes. She’d always been concerned about him going too far into the woods. His mother was fearful of the things that dwelled in the dark shadows of the woods and had gone as far as creating a ward around their home. At one time, his mother, according to the stories Alek’s father had told him, had been a great and powerful wizard for a nearby king and had given up her lavish life to be with her father, who was nothing more than a simple guard of the kingdom.

Alek had always enjoyed hearing the tales his father spoke of; most of which his mother would discourage and claim to not be true; one of them being that she had been such a powerful wizard who worked for a nearby king. Alek admittedly had never seen his mother use magic in the five years he’d been alive; but then she always said that there were things in the shadows that fed upon magic and perhaps that’d been why she’d never used it.

“Well,” a woman’s voice said from the shadows of the tree line. “Aren’t you a strong boy? Helping your mother collect wood for the fire?”

Alek looked up and the shadows from the trees seemed to cover her face in complete darkness; but somehow the glow of her eyes shined through the dark. “Who are you?” he asked. “Do you live nearby?”

“I live very close,” she replied, “very close indeed. My name is Kavi’lana. And I could use your help.”

“I don’t know,” Alek said gripping the wood he’d gathered more tightly. “My mother does not approve of me entering the woods. Perhaps you could come down the hill with me and speak with my mother and father and they can help you?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “They are too large. You see, I have a rabbit that has gotten beneath several rocks not far from here and I fear she may be stuck. Someone your size can easily crawl into the hole she went in and get her out for me.”

“How far is it from here?” Alek asked.

“Not far,” Kavi’lana replied, “not far at all. Just over this small hill here. Come to me and you will be able to see it clearly – a mound of rocks.”

Alek set the wood down and approached the woman; and just as he got in arm’s length the woman reached out with lightning speed reflexes and pulled him into the shadow of the trees.

Inside the cabin, Alek’s mother suddenly screamed out. She sensed that her son had gone past the protective ring she’d put around their land. She quickly dropped the plates that crashed and shattered on the ground and ran up the hill. She saw a collection of small logs and next to them the amulet she’d given her son to always know if he’d stepped outside the ring. She glared into the shadows of the tree and began to weep madly.

Alek’s mother had, at one time, been a wizard for the king and used her resources to have the woods searched for two weeks; but as she suspected there’d been no sign. Even when she was a wizard for the king, there’d been reports of children missing and when she used her magic she could detect dark fey magic, just as she’d done at the edge of the woods when Alek went missing, and suspected a coven of hags was operating somewhere in the area.

None of the missing children were ever found.

Alek included.

As a prisoner of the hags, there’d been three hags – each distinctly different that Alek came to know. Kavi’lana was what his mother would have called a ‘green hag’ – and by the looks of things, Kavi’lana led this Coven. Kavi’lana’s true form was that of green skin, long, black fingernails and as a stark contrast, she had purple eyes and long, white, flowing hair, with the skulls of various animals woven in as braids.

The second hag had purple skin, no pupils (her eyes were simply green – an Alek supposed, in his later years, this had been the sign of envy). Her hair was also jet black; but she had horns near her forehead and wore necklaces full of various sized skulls – none of which were animal – they were all human or humanoid in nature. She’d gone by the name of Va’lana.

The third was one who looked sickly; her skin was light blue, as if she were already dead. Her hair always looked as if it were wet and woven with seaweed. Her face was distorted as if she’d been drowned and someone how returned to life. She only wore a bottom dress, composed of seaweed; leaving her bare top exposed, her sickly ribs jaunting from her flesh. Her eyes were large, bloated, and green in color. This, though seemingly the weakest of the three, had been the one that frightened Alek the most. She’d gone by the name of Nela’lana.

Alek believed, when he’d first been captured that the hags would devour his soul; it’s what he’d always heard – they devour souls, and the greater the innocence the more powerful they became, which is why hags abducted children so frequently. Nela’lana seemed the most eager to devour Alek, and perhaps that’d been why, even after years of servitude to the hags, he’d always feared her the most – aside from her appearance had also been the most ghastly to behold.

The hags began discussing how they could use Alek to lure children towards the hags; as the years had pressed on, parents had become increasingly more cautious – they’d never suspect a child that worked for the hags. Kavi’lana, the green hag, then approached Alek, and spoke in the Common tongue, explaining, “We are not like other hags,” she lied. “We have foreseen the future and a great epidemic is on the rise. Soon the dead will outnumber the living. We are trying to gather the children and pull them into the Feyworld where they – like you – will never have to fear the coming epidemic. We need you to gather the children, Alek. We need you to save the world.”

This seemed to be a rather large burden to throw on a child’s shoulder, but they knew Alek possessed a heart of pureness and that sure a dire situation would certainly call to him to take action. For the next five years, he helped the hags lure the children to them and once he did so, he never saw them again.

When he was ten, he finally asked, “Where are the other children? All of those children I’ve helped save?”

“We have teleported them to the Feyworld,” Kavi’lana lied. “They have new homes now. They are happy and free.”

By this time, Alek was listening to the Hags when they spoke in their Dark Fey tongue; and he began to understand more and more of what they said, but he never let them know. For example, he learned that the “lana” after their names, was the mark of their Coven which translated to (quite loosely) as “Sisters of the Darkwood.” One night, the three hags debated in their native tongue over leaving Alek alone while they tended to Coven matters. Nela’lana had wanted to kill Alek, which was no surprise, since she’d been the hag that seemed the cruelest of the three. But she had been outvoted and Alek was left in their cavern home alone. This was the first time he’d tried to run away, but every direction he ran always led him back to the cave, and he realized that the Hags undoubtedly protected their home – and prevented him from escaping – similar to how his own mother had supposedly protected their home. So lost in desperation, Alek even tried to take his own life to be free; and found that the hags had created a spell that prevented him from inflicting self-harm. In one of the tomes, he’d learned the truth about the children as well – they were never taken away to a better life – the hags devoured their life essences, just as he’d always heard about.

Still, he kept that secret that he knew the truth since the hags trusted him when they left to tend to their Coven business. On one such occasion when he was left alone again, while the hags left to attend to Coven business, he now took the time to read through their tomes of spellbooks now that he knew how to both understand the words they spoke and read them (though he’d been far better at understanding what they said rather than reading their written word). But again, years of being left alone at times, he had taken the opportunity to read through their tomes time and time again. As Alek grew older, the hags knew they could use him to help hunt for food while they tended to their dark magic; knowing he could not leave the distance defined by the hags’ vile magic. He had become proficient at using a crossbow, but naturally learned, the spell that prevented him from harming himself, also prevented him from inflicting harm on the hags as well.

One night, he found what he had needed; a spell that was called ‘Twisting the Veil.’ It would allow him to bypass any protective barrier. While the hags slept, he grabbed a strand of each of theirs, wove it tightly together and managed to brush against the corner of a table enough to cut his skin and draw his own blood. He dropped his blood upon the knot and spoke the words:

Bound and tied, woven inside
Blood drawn, barriers gone
Allow me, to walk free

With that, he ran outside – and for the first time, ran further than he’d ever managed to run before, without being returned to the hags’ home. Behind him, he heard the howling fury of the three hags and could swear he could feel Nela’lana’s frigid breath on his neck. He closed his eyes and pushed himself harder than he ever had – and suddenly felt the warmth of light. He opened his eyes, too late, to see he was running for a cliff, and before he knew it, had stepped over the edge. He screamed as he fell, to what he’d assumed was his death, but instead landed in a river that washed him down stream.

He was recovered and brought back to health.

He vowed he would one day find the three hags and put an end to them and get justice for all the children they’d devoured.

I really enjoyed reading this. I always have trouble trying to come up with the father/mother relationship because,in my mind, happy people with a healthy relationship with their parents don't go on adventures to kill monsters, but that's my thought process.
His first death was a mix of me trying to run from a Wraith at lvl 1 without using Disengage and getting OHKO, and my DM wanting someone to die in our first encounter so we would have a debt with a powerful NPC.

I liked a lot of the relation Alek had with the Hags, I didn't put much thought on it at first. I did not mention it on my post, but he DOES know Abyssal, Common, and Elf as his know languages, so you nailed it. The part where the hags deceived him to think that the kids would go to the Feywild give him a much more palpable reason for him to learn Elvish.
Alek has to perform a daily ritual he stole from the hags to keep them from finding him, using a strand of hair and a drop of his blood, so, eventually, he WILL run out of hair and they will be able to track him down.
Now, I need to come up with more details about his dark side. His light side is stronger than his dark side, but it is certainly there and is a big part of this character.
His Personality Trait is: I live for the thrill of the hunt. I don’t run from evil. Evil runs from me;
Ideals: I’m a monster that destroys other monsters and anything else that gets in my way;
Bonds: There’s evil in me, I can feel it. It must never be set free;
Flaws: I have certain rituals that I must follow every day. I can never break them.

Thanks again for this background, I will send it to my DM and I'm sure he'll enjoy it as much as I did.

[KyleG]

Added to the list!

Quick question on this one - You mention not being the body of a Krynn (which is a Dragonlance continent) so then I thought maybe you meant a Ki-rin? I know that the Echo Knight stuff comes from the Kryn Dynasty. And from what I read, it doesn't need to be the body of anything? So a Half-Orc could learn it:

In campaigns outside Wildemount, there is no factional control of dunamancy, so the implementation of this arcane discipline is entirely open. Talk to your Dungeon Master about how dunamancy might fit into their campaign, and how your characterÂ’s story could be woven into that lore.

So I was wondering did you want him to be a spirit that's passed through various people and ended up in the Half-Orc still?

I only know the wildemount stuff and in that setting some of the drow/dark elf (called Krynn) can have their souls reborn in a new body based on their soul being stored in a magic ball, Luxon (holds lots). That soul is then usually returned to a child born in proximity to that Luxon. Kage was reborn into a half orc (Luxon may have been stolen or something. Usually these children are taught in their youth to understand the strange dreams (memories) they receive so as to understand they have lived before. Kage wasnt identified as child and only came to learn this later, the magic of previous drow incarnations manifests as his echo.

As you can see he is starting to come along.

[Tawmis]

I only know the wildemount stuff and in that setting some of the drow/dark elf (called Krynn) can have their souls reborn in a new body based on their soul being stored in a magic ball, Luxon (holds lots). That soul is then usually returned to a child born in proximity to that Luxon. Kage was reborn into a half orc (Luxon may have been stolen or something. Usually these children are taught in their youth to understand the strange dreams (memories) they receive so as to understand they have lived before. Kage wasnt identified as child and only came to learn this later, the magic of previous drow incarnations manifests as his echo.
As you can see he is starting to come along.

Well, Krynn is the Dragonlance continent - so when I did some info digging on Wildemount - I found a specific character named K'ryyn (played by Matt Mercer), but she's a Bounty Hunter and not a kind of specific type of Dark Elves:

https://criticalrole.fandom.com/wiki/K%27ryyn

And I found a reference to Empress Leylas Kryn, which is her surname.

(Why on the planes of reality they would name all of this so close to the Dragonlance main world is beyond me... but that's neither here nor there...)

I did find info about the Luxon:
https://www.critrolestats.com/blog/2...horhas-updated

Where it does mention: Selected followers of the Luxon go through cycles of rebirth so they can live enough lives to learn the true meaning of why they are on Exandria and to bring the fragments of the Luxon’s puzzle to it when it is reborn, to give it purpose.

And goes on to mention:

• Spend years serving the Dynasty and its interests and have faith in the Luxon OR be a prodigy of dunamancy (apparently).
• No special skills in dunamancy? You serve the Luxon, but don’t do enough that your Extra Faith gets noticed by the ruling dens in the Dynasty? You’re not getting consecuted, which means you’re not getting reborn.
• Become soul-bound to the Luxon through consecution.
• Not soul-bound through consecution? You’re not getting reborn.
• Die within a certain range of a beacon.
• Not consecuted, but die within range of a beacon? You’re not getting reborn. (Sorry, Molly.)
• Consecuted, but die outside of the range of a beacon? You’re not getting reborn.
• When a baby is born within range of a beacon, that person’s soul will transfer to that baby.
• When the baby becomes an adolescent, they will begin to recall memories of their past life, a process called anamnesis.
• That baby doesn’t make it to adolescence and dies outside the range of a beacon? Your soul cannot be reborn.
• That baby doesn’t make it to adolescence and dies within range of a beacon? Unclear.
• One of the people in the Dynasty will find that adolescent and bring them to Rosohna to be reunited with their den.
• No one from the Dynasty finds that adolescent? Unclear.
• The adolescent is found, but doesn’t make it to Xhorhas to unite with their den? Unclear.
• The adolescent will go through guided meditation to unlock their past.
• Meditation not successful? Unclear.
• Congratulations, you’ve been reborn! Enjoy your second life!
• What? You want to be born AGAIN? Well, you’ll need to die within range of a beacon again.
• When a baby is born within range of a beacon, your soul will be transferred to that child.

So that said - do you mind how the soul lands in a Half-Orc? I have a wild idea.

I really enjoyed reading this. I always have trouble trying to come up with the father/mother relationship because,in my mind, happy people with a healthy relationship with their parents don't go on adventures to kill monsters, but that's my thought process.

Even adventurers want to live long enough to retire; especially if love pulls them out of adventuring.

His first death was a mix of me trying to run from a Wraith at lvl 1 without using Disengage and getting OHKO, and my DM wanting someone to die in our first encounter so we would have a debt with a powerful NPC.

Yeah; I figured you and your DM had that detail worked out.

I liked a lot of the relation Alek had with the Hags, I didn't put much thought on it at first. I did not mention it on my post, but he DOES know Abyssal, Common, and Elf as his know languages, so you nailed it. The part where the hags deceived him to think that the kids would go to the Feywild give him a much more palpable reason for him to learn Elvish.
Alek has to perform a daily ritual he stole from the hags to keep them from finding him, using a strand of hair and a drop of his blood, so, eventually, he WILL run out of hair and they will be able to track him down.
Now, I need to come up with more details about his dark side. His light side is stronger than his dark side, but it is certainly there and is a big part of this character.
His Personality Trait is: I live for the thrill of the hunt. I don’t run from evil. Evil runs from me;
Ideals: I’m a monster that destroys other monsters and anything else that gets in my way;
Bonds: There’s evil in me, I can feel it. It must never be set free;
Flaws: I have certain rituals that I must follow every day. I can never break them.
Thanks again for this background, I will send it to my DM and I'm sure he'll enjoy it as much as I did.

For the ideal - It's his guilty conscious, to me, always seeing those children's faces he knows he helped (unintentionally) kill that makes a monster, so consumed with guilt, he's almost irrational.
For the bonds - his ideal of there's evil in him, it's the idea that the hags still have some kind of hold on him (is how I imagined it) - after all, he'd spent years committing evil for them (unknowingly at first). And they'd used all kinds of spells on him to prevent him from running away, hurting himself, etc. Who is to say they still don't have a hold on him if they find him again?
For the flaw - I see this as being paranoid the hags might find him; so he does a ritual to prevent the hags from ever locating him again.

[richardbob123]

Name: Julian Colt
Class: Monster Slayer Ranger
Age:27
Race: Aasimar (Scourge)
Gender: Male
Background: Hunted one
Harrowing Event:A fiend that slaughtered my mother, spared me, my sister and my fathers life, and you don't know why.

Family:
Father:(Dead) Jonathan Colt -Human- Former solider turn blacksmith
Mother:(Dead) Sarah Colt -Human- Farmer
Sister: Eleanor Colt -Former Human Turned Tiefling -

the idea is that, when he was 4 his mother was killed by a devil called Abaddon, after as she saw her feeding her daughter devils blood, in order to make a super solider to fight on her side. and after that his father began investigating the cause of Sarah's death and learned about supernatural creatures and the people who hunted them.so his father became a hunter himself, and trained Julian to be one as well, though both hid the supernatural from Eleanor until she was 8 years old. Eleanor apparently started hunting alongside her brother and father around the age of twelve, however, she began wanting a normal life without monsters; years later, a teacher encouraged her to carve out a life away from the "family business" after reading Eleanor 's story about a werewolf hunt. At nineteen, after a heated argument with John, Eleanor leaves for the capital city, thus leaving her family and their hunting crusade behind her

the idea is based on dean Winchester from the supernatural TV show

[KyleG]

Well, Krynn is the Dragonlance continent - so when I did some info digging on Wildemount - I found a specific character named K'ryyn (played by Matt Mercer), but she's a Bounty Hunter and not a kind of specific type of Dark Elves:

https://criticalrole.fandom.com/wiki/K%27ryyn

And I found a reference to Empress Leylas Kryn, which is her surname.

(Why on the planes of reality they would name all of this so close to the Dragonlance main world is beyond me... but that's neither here nor there...)

I did find info about the Luxon:
https://www.critrolestats.com/blog/2...horhas-updated

Where it does mention: Selected followers of the Luxon go through cycles of rebirth so they can live enough lives to learn the true meaning of why they are on Exandria and to bring the fragments of the Luxon’s puzzle to it when it is reborn, to give it purpose.

And goes on to mention:

• Spend years serving the Dynasty and its interests and have faith in the Luxon OR be a prodigy of dunamancy (apparently).
• No special skills in dunamancy? You serve the Luxon, but don’t do enough that your Extra Faith gets noticed by the ruling dens in the Dynasty? You’re not getting consecuted, which means you’re not getting reborn.
• Become soul-bound to the Luxon through consecution.
• Not soul-bound through consecution? You’re not getting reborn.
• Die within a certain range of a beacon.
• Not consecuted, but die within range of a beacon? You’re not getting reborn. (Sorry, Molly.)
• Consecuted, but die outside of the range of a beacon? You’re not getting reborn.
• When a baby is born within range of a beacon, that person’s soul will transfer to that baby.
• When the baby becomes an adolescent, they will begin to recall memories of their past life, a process called anamnesis.
• That baby doesn’t make it to adolescence and dies outside the range of a beacon? Your soul cannot be reborn.
• That baby doesn’t make it to adolescence and dies within range of a beacon? Unclear.
• One of the people in the Dynasty will find that adolescent and bring them to Rosohna to be reunited with their den.
• No one from the Dynasty finds that adolescent? Unclear.
• The adolescent is found, but doesn’t make it to Xhorhas to unite with their den? Unclear.
• The adolescent will go through guided meditation to unlock their past.
• Meditation not successful? Unclear.
• Congratulations, you’ve been reborn! Enjoy your second life!
• What? You want to be born AGAIN? Well, you’ll need to die within range of a beacon again.
• When a baby is born within range of a beacon, your soul will be transferred to that child.

So that said - do you mind how the soul lands in a Half-Orc? I have a wild idea.

Let the wild ideas flow.

[Tawmis]

Name: Julian Colt
Class: Monster Slayer Ranger
Age:27
Race: Aasimar (Scourge)
Gender: Male
Background: Hunted one
Harrowing Event:A fiend that slaughtered my mother, spared me, my sister and my fathers life, and you don't know why.
the idea is based on dean Winchester from the supernatural TV show

Surprised you didn't make'em human in that case. Aasimar might be more Castiel. :D

Anyway! Added to the list!

And I apologize in the delay of writing these - being forced to work from home this last month and some change - my "work space" is now also where I do my writing - and usually, after 8 hours of being stuck in the room working - I am actually venturing into any other room once my 8 hour shift it is done, which means less writing (over all, not just here).

I will get back in the swing of this (may dust off my laptop to write from the living room or something).

[Foxydono]

This was too easy to write! Whenever I use Emereth (who is a ancient green dragon from my game; that I have historically used in several of my character backgrounds for the DM's to use if they wanted) - when I started doing these, I injected Emereth into several people's backgrounds - and the more that I write her, the more I love her (for how vicious she is) and how easy it is to make her the reason a hero is born - with the desire to put her (and her children) six feet under, burning forever in the Planes of Hell!)
Hopefully this works for you! Despite me enjoying the writing of this; if this doesn't work for you - let me know!
Any and all feedback is appreciated! Replies to this thread keep it bumped and alive and stop the admins from dinging me if I have to force bump it myself!
So yeah - I loved writing it - but let me know your thoughts!
And as always, at the very least, I hope you...
Enjoy!

Thanks you very much and my sincere apologies for replying so late. With corona things got so hectic and I forgot to thank you for your excellent work. I enjoyed playing Don Guan very much, but sadly he died in the second session! :(

It was a bit painful, because my death could have been avoided. The druid didn't shape back to heal and thought I'd survive another round. This would have been the case if I had not rolled a natural 1. I already made a new character, who's a bit more careful hanging in the back and shooting from afar. Hopefully he will survive a bit longer :)

[Kvard51]

Hey Tawmis, I've got a bit of a challenge for you (I think). I'd love if you would write up the story of two brothers. Children of the same remarkable, human mother, but different fathers. The idea is that the mother died when the boys were very young (3-5 years old?) but had a powerful spell created that forced them to be raised as foster sons by the other's father. The first, a Tiefling Celestial Warlock, was raised in Heaven by the General of the Angelic Host. The second, an Aasimar Conquest Paladin, was raised in the Abyss by it's Demonic King.

Names: Ontogenes and Philogenes Velciter (mothers last name)

They are fated to destroy the world, but an obscure piece of prophecy has recently been found by Ontogenes that has made him reconsider what CAN be, as it seems to indicate he and his brother could work together to destroy their fathers and end the war, thus saving the world.

[Tawmis]

Thanks you very much and my sincere apologies for replying so late. With corona things got so hectic and I forgot to thank you for your excellent work. I enjoyed playing Don Guan very much, but sadly he died in the second session! :(

It was a bit painful, because my death could have been avoided. The druid didn't shape back to heal and thought I'd survive another round. This would have been the case if I had not rolled a natural 1. I already made a new character, who's a bit more careful hanging in the back and shooting from afar. Hopefully he will survive a bit longer :)

Ach, that's such a bummer. As a DM I always try to cut a break for the first 3 or so levels of a character.

But if you enjoyed the character, hopefully you can land another game with another DM - and see if you can't get Don Guan rise again

Hey Tawmis, I've got a bit of a challenge for you (I think). I'd love if you would write up the story of two brothers. Children of the same remarkable, human mother, but different fathers. The idea is that the mother died when the boys were very young (3-5 years old?) but had a powerful spell created that forced them to be raised as foster sons by the other's father. The first, a Tiefling Celestial Warlock, was raised in Heaven by the General of the Angelic Host. The second, an Aasimar Conquest Paladin, was raised in the Abyss by it's Demonic King.

Names: Ontogenes and Philogenes Velciter (mothers last name)

They are fated to destroy the world, but an obscure piece of prophecy has recently been found by Ontogenes that has made him reconsider what CAN be, as it seems to indicate he and his brother could work together to destroy their fathers and end the war, thus saving the world.

Consider this added! My goal is to knock out a few of these pending requests by this weekend!

[Klorox]

What an awesome thread. Thank you.

[Tawmis]

What an awesome thread. Thank you.

Thanks! I have had such a great time writing these for folks! I am looking to get back into the swing of things again.
Working from home now means my "man cave" where I do my writing has become my work space. Which means after an 8 hour day I am eager to get out of my room, which has led to this lapse in writing.