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2020-08-25, 04:32 PM (ISO 8601)Bugbear in the Playground
- Join Date
- Mar 2004
Re: Need a character background written up?
My apologies about the delay in response! I am now DMing three games over Discord in my campaign world, which has thankfully kept me mentally busy. Because on the real life side, it's been pretty chaotic with my wife's health condition (mentioned somewhere in this thread of finding her unresponsive at the end of June, she was rushed to the hospital, put on a ventilator, discovered she had a seizure due to blood on her brain). She's on the mend, and at home now, but it's a lot of doctor visits for MRIs, MRAs, blood, the works. So I've been running crazy in real life and in the world of D&D!
I have some older ones in the queue that I still need to knock out - (the plan is this Sunday to power through some of the older ones and get caught up!).
That said...
I look forward to see what you come with! Feel free to drop whatever ones you want. And mark which ever is the most important (winner of the poll).
Originally Posted by Qendal
Thank you! I love hearing back that - not only do these work - but also that people enjoy what I wrote! I always try to make them as interesting as possible - and try to leave little bread crumbs for any DM to pick up and run with as a potential opening for a future adventure, should they choose to! I, as a DM, love when an origin has something I can use - it assures that the player will probably very invested in the story since it involves their character directly! Originally Posted by WadeWay33
Sure! I can add this! Originally Posted by KyleG
Consider this added! Originally Posted by Goldlizard
Need a character origin written? Enjoyed what I wrote? How can you help me? Not required, but appreciated! <3
Check out my 5e The Secret of Havenfall Manor or my character back stories over at DMsGuild.com! (If you check it out - please rate, comment, and tell others!)
Subscribe to my D&D Channel on Youtube! (Come by and Sub)
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2020-08-25, 07:18 PM (ISO 8601)Pixie in the Playground
- Join Date
- Dec 2018
Re: Need a character background written up?
Well, this is a very impressive thread, so here is a character I want to play in my next game:
Name: Alaric of Whitegrove
Race: Human
Class: Arcana Cleric
Alignment: Neutral Good
Background: Inquisitor
Concept: A Cleric of Maelther, god of magic, knowledge and the twilight, and the son of the sun god Mithranar. The cult of Maelther is a minor one, composed mostly of scholars and mages, but its priests also serve as inquisitors, hunting down demonic and undead threats and bringing to justice those who misuse magic and threaten the peace. Alaric was one such inquisitor. He investigated magical phenomena, and brought demonologists and unlawful necromancers to justice. He also followed his god's tenet of seeking knowledge, so he studied under druids and under the priests of the god of passage and the underworld, learning a small amount of druidic magic and lawful necromancy. He could have taken a position as the priest in a temple of Maelther and peacefully retired, but a power dispute between his progressive faction the cult of Maelther and the conservative one meant that he likely would be relegated to a small parish with no influence and meager pay. So instead, he chose the open road: to fight evil and spread good on his own. The life of an adventurer was not so different from that of an inquisitor, after all.
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2020-09-13, 01:40 AM (ISO 8601)Bugbear in the Playground
- Join Date
- Mar 2004
Re: Need a character background written up?
Added to the list. Originally Posted by Lysimarchos
Apologies, as mentioned previously - I'd found my wife unresponsive - and life took a drastic turn.
We're still dealing with all of that. But creatively writing from time to time helps me escape.
I've been running a number of games also - which has also helped.
Anyway, way over due...
Coal was a Fire Genasi, who – for all of his life – had only known the life of being a servant to the Efreeta by the name of Kurrstin. Here, in the City of Brass – home to the Efreeti – Kurrstin was well known and well respected. But she could be as cruel as she was beautiful – and, for an Efreeta, she was rather breath taking. Originally Posted by Vooez
Though Kurrstin had many slaves, Coal was fortunate that he was a Fire Genasi – because of that, she seemed to treat him better than many of the other slaves. Those Coal befriended, also seemed to gain some leniency from Kurrstin’s wrath. One such slave was an older human wizard, Stefaun, who Kurrstin seemed to initially have a strong hatred for.
Stefaun was average looking for a human; streaks of white in his black hair, eyes of blue.
“She seems to favor you,” Stefaun noted, as Coal sat down next to the old wizard.
Coal looked over his shoulder at Kurrstin, who was just leaving the room, before looking back at Stefaun. “I believe she ‘favors’ me only because I am born of fire, similar to her. The rest of,” he paused, wondering how to phrase, “flesh types, are playthings to her. If you perish, she can easily purchase another in the market.”
Stefaun smiled, which Coal thought was unusual. “Why do you smile, human?”
“Because she did not purchase me in the market,” Stefaun replied. “She sought me out.”
“She sought you out? On the Prime Material Plane?” Coal asked. He’d heard stories of the Prime Material Plane from all the slaves Kurrstin had had over the years, but had never seen it himself. “Why would she do that?”
“You could say I study… Chronomancy…”
“Chronomancy… the magic of time?” Coal asked.
“Indeed,” Stefaun smiled. “It would seem, Kurrstin had brought a small army into the Prime Material Plane, and attacked a village – a village, I happened to be at. I was able to – with my knowledge – twist time back several hours – before her attack – and allow most of the villages to escape.”
“When she returned,” Stefaun continued with a chuckle, “the only person there was me. And I had enough strength to shunt her several hours back again. This happened a number of times, before I was too exhausted to continue – but by then, the villagers had all fled. She maintained the memory of the time shunts and was furious with me. She’s tortured me to learn how I had done it, but I’ve not given in to her.”
Stefaun paused, “Honestly, the only reason she’s let me out of my cage is for you to befriend me, to talk to me, so she could use you to get knowledge from me. I won’t expect you to turn on her… but what if I offered to teach you magic… so that you could escape from here?”
Coal looked surprised, “Where would I go?”
“To where she would have the hardest time finding you,” Stefaun replied, “the Prime Material Plane.”
Coal was shocked. But it only took a moment for him to agree.
He met with Stefaun daily, and as the human mage had suspected, Kurrstin pulled Coal aside to ask what Stefaun talked about. Coal never revealed he was learning magic; instead, he lied and said that Stefaun was telling him about all these different places on the Prime Material Plane that Stefaun had visited over the many years of his long life.
The day finally came where Kurrstin suspected Coal was lying to her – and used her own scrying magic to observe the teachings Stefaun was bestowing upon her favorite slave. When she burst into the room to confront them, Stefaun quickly opened a portal and shoved Coal through – and shut it behind him. As the portal came to a close, Coal could hear Kurrstin’s cussing, and the screams of Stefaun – all suddenly silenced as the portal closed.
Coal looked around him and saw lush green forests, and the lapping water of a nearby lake. He stood up and at that moment noticed, Stefaun had shoved a note in his vest – but the writing was Arcane in nature – and ancient by the looks of it. What was he supposed to do with it?
How I imagine Kirrstun might have looked: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/3c/cc...0e064304cd.png
I did make a slight change to what you had... and in turn, made this a story based off an old, old, old module I wrote called "Giant Problems" (originally written for and declined by DUNGEON Magazine) of a Hill Giant infected with Lycanthropy... Originally Posted by Aldreck
Kept the part of the wolves totem - and I think I tied that in nicely.
I'd love your feedback!
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The woods were eerily silent as Braelaine hunted his prey. He knew he was on the right track, because he’d just passed the corpse of a young doe whose insides had been ripped out for the sheer pleasure of the kill. Until now, he’d suspected it’d been the Hill Giant he had spotted several weeks ago, who had wandered aimlessly into the woods. But even now, as he knelt down to examine the tracks – what he was tracking was no clumsy Hill Giant – but rather the largest bear he’d ever seen.
The others from his village had also been hunting this predator – though, like Braelaine, they believe it to be the Hill Giant. Braelaine considered quietly turning around to warn the others that it wasn’t the Hill Giant when a large, brown, grizzly bear burst through the brush – claws gleaming in the pale full moon light, raking across his chest and snapping his bow in half. Braelaine stared up, from the floor, hands clutching the gaping wound. He could feel warm blood seeping from his fingertips. He watched as the large bear reared up – and Braelaine was certain the killing blow was coming – but instead saw several arrows hit the massive bear, who quickly turn and fled. Braelaine saw his best friend, Rotol kneeling down – calling for the healers. Braelaine reached out to his best friend but lost consciousness.
It was several weeks before Braelaine was on his feet again. Rotol was there to greet him, his raven black hair and soft green eyes, showing deep concern for his friend. He peered at the scars across Braelaine’s chest. “That bear left quite a mark on you. The healers said they couldn’t heal the scar.”
“It burns,” Braelaine admitted as his hand subconsciously traced the long scar.
“It burns?” Rotol stood. “What do you mean it burns? Did you tell the healers?”
“No,” Braelaine shook his head. “Otherwise they’d never let me leave.”
As the days passed, Rotol observed a continued change in Braelaine. Braelaine had become more agitated, quickly losing his temper. Just before the full moon, his hunger seemed virtually endless, to the point that Braelaine did not even wait for meat to be cooked – he’d begun eating it raw.
Then on the full moon – the truth was revealed.
Braelaine awoke, drenched in sweat – hungry. He looked at his hands as they trembled violently. His body ached. His mind felt like it was a living inferno. His stomach and heart were churned inside him, as if some spiritual hand had reached inside and twisted his organs.
He tried to stand, and collapsed on the floor – and in that moment, watched as his hands had grown in size and become covered in brown fur. He looked up – and in the mirror saw what he’d become – a brown bear. Bursting out of his room – his villagers were surprised to see a bear in his room and launched arrows. Braelaine fled for his life.
After the full moon had passed, Braelaine awoke near the lake and realized his last memory was running out of his own cabin. He looked at his hands in horror – as he saw they were covered in blood. He crawled to the lapping water of the lake to wash them off, only to see his face reflected in the ripples of water – also covered in blood.
“It was the Hill Giant, wasn’t it?” a familiar voice asked.
Braelaine turned to see Rotol sitting on a log. “I knew you’d end up here. Despite the beast you’d become, your subconscious will always take you here to Bluesky Lake – where your mother would bring you to sing to you when you were just a baby.” He shook his head. “We were tracking the Hill Giant – only we didn’t know he was infected with lycanthropy. That explains the oversized bear. And it looks like he’s infected you. You know our people… they believe there’s no cure… other than a swift death. Braelaine, you need to run. Run far and fast. Don’t look back.”
Braelaine stood. “You’re not going to kill me?”
“I’m giving you a head start, because you were my best friend. But the animal inside you – the trail of dead animals in your wake of the beast you’ve become. A part of you is forever changed. Run. Now,” Rotol said plainly as he began to draw his bow. “Take advantage of the head start.”
Braelaine ran as fast as he could – truth be told, he could not tell if Rotol would truly hunt him down – but he was right – the Priests believed that Lycanthropy – even cured from a person, remained and could be passed down to children – so death was truly the only cure.
Several arrows narrowly missing Braelaine know that Rotol was indeed, somewhere behind him and so Braelaine pushed himself harder that before – leaves, branches, vines, all seemed to work against him; cutting his face, his arms, his legs, until he finally simply collapsed.
When he awoke, he was surrounded by Druids – and he immediately recognized them. The Druids of Nashar – the Moon Druids.
“You’ve been inflicted,” one of them said, a woman of incredible beauty as she kneeled down and placed her palm on his forehead. “We can sense the disease coursing through your body. We have called on a friend to help bring a cure.”
“There is no cure,” Braelaine muttered.
The woman smiled, and placed her hand on his eye lids and whispered, “Rest now.” And as if magically commanded, Braelaine slipped into a state of slumber. In his dream, he saw himself by the ocean, howling, the tides of water breaking around him, shaping themselves as wolves, howling at the moon. His burst from the waves, like a rising phoenix, the waves turned to mist, swirling around him, now changing into hundreds of wolves, wrapping around his body.
When Braelaine opened his eyes, he found himself being tied to a post by the Druids – and standing before him, a human adorned in full plate. He accepted that the Paladin that stood before him had come to “cure” him by killing him – but when the Paladin did not draw his weapon, but instead placed his hand on Braelaine’s forehead and explained, “I apologize about you being tied up, but this cure will invoke the beast in you – restraining you like this is for your – and our – benefit.”
The Paladin placed his hand on Braelaine’s forehead tightly and began to chant a prayer – and Braelaine could feel it – the beast inside of him screaming to be free – to kill the Paladin, the Druids – to stop them from freeing him of the evil that dwelled inside of him.
It was an hour before the Paladin finished the prayer, and Braelaine collapsed, exhausted, as did the Paladin, who buckled to his knees. But inside of him… Braelaine could feel it… the evil was gone. But he also felt changed by the entire experience. The evil that had lived inside of him changed him irrevocably.
The Druids released Braelaine, and offered him a place there with them – but Braelaine felt that even in the Druidic nature of being able to change their shape was something Braelaine never wanted to do again. Instead, he thanked them and ran far away from the woods – until he was alone in the mountains, unsure what to do with the change he felt in him.
He screamed in fury – and it echoed across the cold stone mountains. But his furious cry did not go unheard – a wolf howled in response. Then another. Then another. Then another. Soon he was surrounded by the song of the wolves – who were all drawn to him.
In their eyes, he saw an intelligence he’d not seen before in a wolf. They had an enemy that needed to be hunted down. A vicious killer who had upset the balance of nature. Killed needlessly. The wolves would show Braelaine his new path. They were his family. His brothers. He was now a part of the pact.
For weeks he ran wild with the wolves, embracing the wild nature – and forgetting all that it was like to be civilized. He gave in to rage and fury – fed to him by the wolves who needed him to be strong if they were to bring down their enemy.
One night, Braelaine followed the wolves, adorned in nothing but furs – and they led him to a large cave, where he heard the growl of a familiar large bear…
This was rather fun - literally - to write! Originally Posted by togapika
Would love your feedback!
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Saaris sat upon his throne of charred bones, his forked tail flickering, and his lip in what seemed to be a permanent curl of displeasure. He gazed furiously into his scrying pool and finally hit the water with his hands, breaking the connection. “You know what I hate?” Saaris, a Horned Devil, growled.
Kay'Linn, a beautiful succubus next to Saaris bowed, “What is it that displeases your, master?”
“Happiness,” he rolled his eyes. “Joy. Glee. Music. All of it.”
Normally when Saaris was in this mood, Kay'Linn gathered a hapless soul for Saaris to rend and gain pleasure from the sounds of torment as the soul is ripped to pieces. “Shall I gather a soul for you to rend? That usually helps, master.”
“No,” Saaris shook his head. “No. Not this time. This is all because some Fey is running wild on the Prime Material Plane – a Satyr whose music and charms and spreading love and joy. It’s making me sick. Something about him.” He paused, and then slowly looked at Kay'Linn. “I’ve an idea. Go, find this ‘Fin Varra’ – offer him a deal, from me – to grant him fame and fortune like he’s never known – for the music he plays, in exchange for his soul. Then, when he signs the paper work, kill him instantly, so that I might rend his soul, specifically, to pieces.”
Kay'Linn bowed, “As you wish, master.”
Kay'Linn muttered the magical words than shunted her to the Prime Material Plane. She quickly folded in her wings, and used magic to hide them and her horns. It took only a moment to hear the merriment coming from a tavern called “The Lion’s Pride.” She slowly made her way towards the tavern, walking down the street, feeling eyes upon her of many of the men – and many of the jealous women.
As she pushed open the doors, she saw him – the Satyr who was dancing on the tables, clanking drinks with other patrons while singing a song about some waterfall that flowed backwards, that house a thousand mermaids, more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen.
But that’s when he turned, and saw her – and the words stopped. Everyone else continued to cheer and sing – but his eyes were locked with hers. He felt his mouth slowly opening in awe, and quickly tried to recover. He approached her, leaping off the table to take her hand into his and kiss it gently.
“Your hair,” he awed, “it’s like that of the most beautiful sunrise. Your eyes as soft as any bed, so welcoming. I’ve never seen such beauty before. What is your name?”
“Kay,” she replied.
“Well, Lady Kay, I do hope you will join us for a drink?” he gestured behind him and the patrons of the inn all raised their mugs and cheered, then proceeded to sing the song that Fin had taught them about the magical waterfall.
Kay'Linn blushed, “I would be honored.”
She sat and watched Fin, as he continued to dance, sing, cheer, and tell magnificent stories. For nearly a hundred years, she’d faithfully served Saaris – especially after Saaris had killed her previous master, another Horned Devil, who was higher ranking than Saaris. He’d been much crueler, demanding things of her; but at least he’d sent her to the Prime Material Plane to enslave me. This had been the first time in a hundred years that Saaris had allowed her to come to the Prime Material Plane. Saaris did not care about Kay'Linn, but she was a trophy – a reminder to those in the Planes of Hell, that Saaris had killed someone more powerful than him.
She’d forgotten what life on the Prime Material Plane was like.
Fin approached her, flowers in hand, which he had gotten from one of the vases, and quickly set them down. He frowned, “I saw these flowers, and they were beautiful. I brought them here, to you, but as soon as I saw you, I was reminded of your beauty – and these flowers paled in comparison.”
“I want them,” she said, taking the flowers. She looked at them, then looked at him. “I … work for someone who can make you very rich and very famous, Fin. I have a contract that you need but just sign and I can make it official.”
Fin smiled, “I can hardly think of music, when I am around you. My heart beats so loudly in my ears, it’s like the drums of a hundred men.”
Saaris was right – Fin was, without a doubt, quite charming.
The two of them spent nearly a week together, becoming closer and closer, before one night, they celebrated their mutual feelings inside Old Man Edgar’s barn. As she lay next to him, she placed her hand on his chest, and felt his heartbeat.
“I’ve never felt more alive than I do now,” he replied.
“Nor I,” she responded honestly, though barely above a whisper.
For the first three nights of their growing relationship, she’d brought up the contract. By the fourth night, all she wanted was to be next to Fin.
Saaris had been watching it all unfold, and could tell he was losing his hold on Kay'Linn. He commanded her to return to him – and so she did – leaving a note for Fin, that perhaps, one day, when she is free of her boss – they will meet again.
Saaris, so furious, cursed Fin – however, never having cursed a Fey before – the result was disastrous, when Fin saw the note, his heart broke and in fury – and inexplicably – he released an Eldritch Blast from his fingertips!
At that very moment, in the plane of Hell, Saaris sat up suddenly, touching his chest, and growled, “What the Hell just happened?”
Saaris, the Horned Devil:
https://media-waterdeep.cursecdn.com...255936976.jpeg
Kay'Linn, the Succubus:
https://media-waterdeep.cursecdn.com...573312994.jpegLast edited by Tawmis; 2020-09-13 at 05:14 AM.
Need a character origin written? Enjoyed what I wrote? How can you help me? Not required, but appreciated! <3
Check out my 5e The Secret of Havenfall Manor or my character back stories over at DMsGuild.com! (If you check it out - please rate, comment, and tell others!)
Subscribe to my D&D Channel on Youtube! (Come by and Sub)
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2020-09-13, 06:42 AM (ISO 8601)Orc in the Playground
- Join Date
- Aug 2015
Re: Need a character background written up?
Hi Tawmis,
It is Ogre Mage again. I hope your wife is on the mend. This is my latest character for Storm King's Thunder. She speaks in a gravelly voice and is darker than the previous characters you wrote for me.
Name: Suspiria
Setting: Forgotten Realms
Class: Shadow Sorcerer 6
Race: Variant Human
Gender: Female
Background: Criminal
Alignment: Neutral
Feats: Ritual Caster (wizard)
Metamagics: Careful Spell, Twinned Spell.
Skills: Arcana, Deception, Perception, Persuasion, Stealth.
Languages: Common, Giant.
Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 13, Cha 18.
Sorcerer Spells
Cantrips: firebolt, mage hand, minor illusion, prestidigitation, shocking grasp.
1st: shield, grease.
2nd: suggestion, misty step.
3rd: hypnotic pattern, haste, counterspell.
Ritual spells (wizard): alarm, detect magic, find familiar, Leomund's Tiny Hut, unseen servant, water breathing.
Magic items: bracers of defense.
Her familiar is a black-feathered owl named Nightwing. She named her hound of ill omen Cujo (lol).Last edited by Ogre Mage; 2020-09-13 at 06:44 AM.
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2020-09-13, 11:54 AM (ISO 8601)Bugbear in the Playground
- Join Date
- Mar 2004
Re: Need a character background written up?
Whoo hoo! Always glad to see "repeat customers" :) Tells me they at least seem to enjoy what I manage to produce! Originally Posted by Ogre Mage
Even though of late, it's been much longer due to the wife's health condition. We have some strides to make, some news awaiting to find out more. Thank you for asking! <3
The character has been added to the list!
And in the meantime, another request knocked out...
I have the Council of Dragons book, but never ran it back in the day. Originally Posted by Great Dragon
So I am not sure who would serve Endigax, so I just made it Ogres and humans. Feel free to adjust of course.
I named the female Kobold, because repeatedly calling her "female Kobold" in the story was bugging me.
As always, feel free to adjust. :)
Hope you enjoy and would love feedback in the thread, as it keeps the thread bumped and alive. :)
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Dhamkeakrux – often called Dam by those that knew him – never cared much for stealth. The Rage of Fury of his Ancestors burned in blood and yearned to be wild and free in the midst of combat. But his companion – another Kobold named Obokld who was quite skilled at both stealth and lightening someone’s coin purse – had warned him that he’d spotted dragons in the area and that there was a good chance, somewhere in this city – a dragon was sleeping.
They moved quietly through the town, which had been overrun by both Ogres and humans alike, who were loyal to whatever dragon now reigned supreme here – but, by the appearances of their tattered tabards it would seem that a green dragon had taken up residence here. When a patrol of ogres was nearing them, both were forced to quickly break down a door and take cover in the building – however, the building was not abandoned. It’d been a barracks to keep slaves. The slaver, a human rose to his feet, puzzled at seeing two kobolds. The green dragon, Endigax Treebreaker, had certainly employed Kobolds as a part of their militia but these two seemed distinctly out of place.
“What order are you with,” the slaver asked, as his hand went to the whip to his side.
Obokld was about to try and lie his way through the situation, but before he could, his good friend Dhamkeakrux flew into a rage. Spirits swirled around Dhamkeakrux, as the Kobold flew into a frenzy and attacked the slaver.
The human stumbled backwards, surprised by the rush of the attack and the unusual sight of spiritual images charging with the kobold at him. He tried to attack the Dhamkeakrux – or the spirits – anything to keep them at bay, but Dhamkeakrux was already leaping through the air, battle axe in hand, and cleaved it deep into the chest of the slaver.
As the body collapsed to the ground, gurgling in his own blood, Dhamkeakrux saw the one slave that the human had been abusing in here – a female kobold.
She rushed to Dhamkeakrux and embraced him tightly. “Thank you,” she whimpered, “thank you for saving me from him.”
Dhamkeakrux was taken aback, unsure of how to react. He’d just felt the rage coursing in his veins, but her warm touch and embrace seemed to cool him down immediately, and fill him with a different kind of fire. “What happened?” he asked. “How did you come to be here?”
“There is a green dragon here named Endigax Treebreaker who found my village and demanded our servitude to their cause. The elders disagreed – and Endigax Treebreaker demanded her followers to capture and enslave us. Most of her soldiers didn’t even try to capture us – they got lost in their bloodlust and killed most of my village. This,” she looked down at the dead human slaver, “beast, captured me and has kept me for himself.”
Dhamkeakrux broke the shackles around her ankles that kept her bound to the wall. “A green dragon – here; that confirms what my friend, Obokld here,” Obokld waved his hand to the female kobold, “had heard. We were looking for evidence of that. Dragon activity has been on the rise and we need to know why. But for now, let’s get you out of here.”
Together, the three of them had escaped, but it was only a few short days later, that the slaver’s deceased body had been found by one of Endigax’s patrol. Endigax demanded that the murderer of her slaver be found and brought before them.
A human witch was brought in – she used her ancient magic on the shackles – she could see the female Kobold… and the slaver an what he did with her… she shuddered… then saw through the female Kobold’s eyes… another two kobolds… one jumped on the slaver and cleaved into his chest… then broke the female of her shackles… The witch stood up, and nodded. “I have a vision of him. It will take some time but I should be able to track him down.”
In the meantime, the weeks that followed, the female Kobold named Oellafin, confused her love to Dhamkeakrux and the two were officially wed by Dhamkeakrux’s tribe elder. Though Dhamkeakrux continued to scout for more information on dragon activity, coming home to Oellafin was something he’d always looked forward to.
That happiness came to a startling end when the alarms in the village rang and Dhamkeakrux ran outside and saw a large figure flying in the distance coming for them. Endigax, no doubt, Dhamkeakrux told himself and quickly rushed inside and told Oellafin to go with Obokld, and that he would help hide her.
The large figure had indeed been Endigax, and Dhamkeakrux was ready to fight the army that so faithfully followed the green dragon. Flying into a rage, he and several other warriors from the village remained behind to buy time for the others to escape. Dhamkeakrux had put up a grand fight, but was eventually struck from behind by a mace and fell forward into the blood soaked mud. The fighting continued all around him before he lapsed into unconsciousness.
Dhamkeakrux was surprised to awaken in the crusty mud, and as he slowly pulled himself up, he could see the sun rising in the distance. Most of the blood soaked mud had hardened, telling him that he may have been unconscious for several days. Bodies of both his fellow warriors, and the warriors of Endigax’s army lay all around him. He tried to stand – his arms shook – he was still dizzy and weak. He eventually managed to stand and knew this was far from over. He’d need to find others to help fight not only Endigax – but the other dragons he’d heard rumors about.
I enjoyed writing this one. A bit therapeutic for me, emotionally too. Originally Posted by Whit
The Knight mentioned is a reference to two Dragonlance Knights - Huma and Sturm. (The name Huma reversed, and Sturm's last name with acronyms). Even the death is a reference similar to Sturm's.
The initial opening song is a reference to Blind Guardian's "The Bard's Song - In the Forest" which I simply kept on repeat as I wrote this for inspiration and mood setting.
The other bard who appears, has appeared in other people's origins I've written. Sort of suggesting a "Tawmis-Verse" of connected characters. :)
Hope you enjoy and would love feedback in this thread, as it keeps it bumped and alive!
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The scales of Phaemus Songbinder glittered as the flames in the fireplace seemed to dance to his song, and the patrons of the “Lion’s Pride” all listened intently. “Hear my song, about the dawn of the night, For tomorrow will take us away, Far from home, And no one will ever know our names, Only this song, To tell the tales of brave men, Who lived far from here! The setting sun, the fallen son, the dawn of the night, the dawn of the knight, for tomorrow will take us away, far from home, and no one will ever know our names! Tomorrow will take us away!”
Phaemus strummed his talons across the lap harp for the final chord. For a brief moment there was silence, before the entire tavern erupted into cheer. Patrons approached him and placed coin in his pouch that he had open at his feet.
A young child approached him and tugged on his sleeve. “I want to be like you when I grow up,” the human girl smile. She was no older than five years old, by human standards. “Will my skin glow and flicker like yours?”
“No,” Phaemus smiled. “But your eyes will. They are as blue as the seas of Avashore, and your hair is as golden as the rising sun. You will not need this,” he pulled up the sleeve that she’d tugged on, revealing his golden scales. “You will shine on your own, just the way you are.” He ran his hand across her hair on the top of her head, purposely messing it up.
“Quite the tale, that last song,” a human standing behind the girl, had said, as the girl ran away singing.
Phaemus looked up and saw a strong looking male human, arms folded across his chest, the neck of a lute peering from behind him, like a sword strapped to his back. “I apologize if this is normally your tavern for playing,” Phaemus stood.
The human smiled. “Nonsense. I was traveling through the town and stopped for food and drink and heard that this was a good place for that.” He extended his hand, “My name is Tyrell Stormshadow. I wanted to ask you about that last song. It seemed very personal. I could tell that it meant something to you.”
Phaemus was quiet for a moment, before he looked at the human. “It was very personal. The Knight in the song was a good friend of mine named Amuh Lightsteel.”
“I would like to hear the tale of your friend,” Tyrell said as he sat down.
Phaemus took a deep breath. It had happened years ago, but in his mind, it felt as if it had just happened. His song was how he honored Amuh.
“Amuh and I were best friends,” Phaemus began. “Inseparable,” he smiled at a distant memory. “He did not care that I was different. As children he saw me inside, rather than outside. Many times, he stood up for me and fought for me when others might say something about me. He was always the one that was ready to fight – me, I was never much of a fighter. I wanted to sing, write, and tell stories. He was the strength and I was the heart. His spunk got him noticed, and he was recruited into the Knighthood when he was sixteen. We remained close, but the Knights were often sending him on missions as a squire. He quickly proved himself quite capable with a sword and once saved the Knight he’d been a squire for from goblins who had ambushed them.”
Phaemus paused. “We saw less and less of each other, but when we did get the chance to see one another, it was as if no time had passed. We both became the children we were growing up, laughing and poking fun at each other.”
“One day, there was news of a green dragon having attacked a village, and Amuh was called to go help the villagers. I begged Amuh not to go, because I had a very bad feeling about this. But Amuh… he was so headstrong… and he even said, if he died fighting a green dragon, saving people, then there was no more honorable way to perish.” Phaemus shook his head. “My songs had gotten into his head, apparently and he thought a heroic death would be the best way to go.”
“Several weeks later, the squadron that Amuh had been a part of, finally returned. One hundred men left, six returned. News of the death and destruction quickly spread. I found out from one of the survivors the exact location of the village and quickly purchased a horse and rode there. I never stopped riding. I traded my horse in each town for another, just so I could keep riding. When I got to Azzatan, the village that had been attacked… I… could not believe what I’d seen. Buildings still burning. The smell of death lingered like a heavy fog. As I made my way through the village, I was stepping over countless dead - villagers and knights alike… but then I found him. Amuh was standing at the top of a ballista that had been brought to slay the dragon – and the spear fired from the ballista had been run through Amuh instead. He’d died here, a hero, trying to save people… but the Knights who returned… they couldn’t even bring back all of their dead. He died, nameless, on a ballista. He was just another name, when the other battalions came to recover the bodies, and bury the dead. The Knight Commander just read down the list of names. And that was it. He was just one of the many who died. So now, I travel around and sing about him, as my way of honoring him.”
Tyrell smiled. “He never died,” the older human smiled. He placed his hand on Phaemus’ chest, just above his heart. “You have kept him alive.”Last edited by Tawmis; 2020-09-13 at 12:42 PM.
Need a character origin written? Enjoyed what I wrote? How can you help me? Not required, but appreciated! <3
Check out my 5e The Secret of Havenfall Manor or my character back stories over at DMsGuild.com! (If you check it out - please rate, comment, and tell others!)
Subscribe to my D&D Channel on Youtube! (Come by and Sub)
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2020-09-18, 11:57 AM (ISO 8601)Bugbear in the Playground
- Join Date
- Dec 2018
- Location
- Portland, Oregon
- Gender
Re: Need a character background written up?
Tawmis - another awesome backstory!
And only small adjustments to fit into my custom built version of the Council of Wyrms.
I'm not sure what all to put in here to explain the differences.
The easy part is that Full Dragons can be PCs. in addition to the Categories of Metallics and the Chromatics I've added the Gems. And I'm working on adding the Ferris.
The main difference is that I'm still using the 3x D&D Effective Character Level idea.
+2 to any two Abilities. Natures instead of Backgrounds.
Dragons use 1d10 HD and each HD is treated as being equal to a Class Level.
The easiest way to make a PC for my game is to build them on D&D Beyond as a Dragonborn, taking Fighter for each Dragon HD you want them to have. Ignore all the Class and Subclass features. Dragon's get other features instead. WIP.
Dragon PCs start a Wyrmlings with 1 HD, become Young at 5 HD, Adult at 11 HD,
Ancient at 21 HD, and Wyrms (the 5th Age category) at 30 HD.
Dragons are the Royalty of the World, and there is a very delicate balance between the Categories and Breeds. A few players in my Wyrms Discord Server have stepped up by becoming Dragons (two new players made Dragon PCs upon entry to the Server). In this way, more of the Economic and Political aspects of the World will be shown.
Kobolds and Dragonborn are Nobility. Dragonborn now include Gems as choices for PCs.
While most Tribes of "Favored" are content with their lot in life, trouble is brewing.
A lot of the other Races are available, but not quite all, yet.
These are the least respected among most (NPC) Dragons.
And there's a Rebellion Storm brewing on a slow burning fuse that if not dealt with by the PCs, will set the World on Fire!!
I am adding new things as I figure them out - and I playtest them when possible.
I can answer questions easier here:
https://forums.giantitp.com/showthre...1#post24707961Last edited by Great Dragon; 2020-09-18 at 12:08 PM.
My Knowledge, Understanding, and Opinion on things can be changed
No offense is intended by anything I post.*Limited Playtest Group - I'm mostly Stuck in the White Room.
*I am learning valuable things, here. So thanks, everyone!
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2020-09-21, 12:10 AM (ISO 8601)Pixie in the Playground
- Join Date
- Sep 2020
Re: Need a character background written up?
Hello Tawmis,
I am extremely new to dnd and have have a small group of friends who use to play and know the rules. They wanted to get a small group going and needed another player. So they asked me to join. I am actually already having fun just with the character background and reading the PHB and other books I purchased. But I want to make sure it all fits correctly.
Name: Grim
Race: Variant Human (Male)
Class: Barbarian, will go path of zealot
Alignment: Neutral Chaotic
Background: Haunted One
Campaign: campaign is set to be relaxed, semi comedy vibe over experience since it would be easier for me to pick up and learn. It will center around a town much like a mmorgp where we get quests and such from our guilds.
Concept: my character is somewhat like Ash Williams from evil dead (Polearm master anyone?) that is mixed with a little Gutz from Berserk (manga or anime if you know of it) and a splash of Benders attitude (futurama). So likes booze women and makes lames jokes, all to hide his haunted past.
History is maybe along the lines of being found as a grim looking child abandoned or in a burned out village by sellswords and is raised by them in the company. He becomes a decent fighter with a glaive. Later in life he is either possessed, cursed, or makes a deal with a demon and gains power but loses something more important. This leading to his wandering of boozing and finding the town in the campaign since it promises coin he needs to pursue his addictions.
I like your other write ups with haunted pasts and tried to imagine one for myself but I am way in over my head when it comes to demons and what they can do. I liked the pit demon concept you had in another write up and hoped you could fit something like that into it but make it a demon queen? Ash likes his women.
Think this is possible to do while keeping it slightly comedic?
Btw I do have PayPal and will definitely donate if this seems like a write up you can help me with.
Cheers
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2020-09-22, 07:18 PM (ISO 8601)Bugbear in the Playground
- Join Date
- Mar 2004
Re: Need a character background written up?
For some reason – perhaps because you closed with “Cheers” – it made me imagine the sellswords in the beginning having a British accent – which as I wrote it, added more humor to it in my head. Originally Posted by Ominae55
Also, for paypal – it’s never mandatory by any means. It’s always appreciated, but never, ever mandatory!
Since you're new to D&D - and a first time requestor (I believe the others I have pending, I've written for before!) - so I skipped you to the front of the line!
Let me know if this is what you're looking for!
Enjoy!
=========================
The smoke drifted into the grey skies, as the sounds of thunder crackled somewhere in the distance. Rekker, who was a half orc warrior was staring at the infant, who somehow managed to be the sole survivor of an attack on his village. The infant sat, wailing loudly, next to the water well, his mother and father, presumably, next to him, their bodies full of arrows.
“Well, we can’t just leave him here,” Rekker groaned, pointing at the infant.
Tollaris, his human companion, and fellow sell sword looked over at his half-orc friend. “Well, we certainly can’t take him with us.”
“You’re okay with just leavin’ the lad here to die?” Rekker asked, scowling at his companion.
Tollaris spun on his heel and tried to get face to face with the towering half-orc.
“You do realize we’re sell swords, right?” Tollaris growled.
“Of course,” Rekker growled.
“And you realize what we do right,” Tollaris continued.
“Of course,” Rekker rolled his eyes.
“We kill people. For a living. It’s what we do. How,” Tollaris gestured to the still crying infant, “can you possibly have a conscious about a human whelp crying in the middle of a burned out town that got raided – by the looks of it, I might add – by your people – orcs!”
“Listen,” Rekkar tapped Tollaris on the chest, forcing Tollaris to take a step back. “I’m a half-orc. I’ve got all kinds of abandonment issues in my noggin. So pardon me if I see an innocent child – an infant – which,” Rekkar snarled, “you may or may not know, we have never killed.” He looked at the child again then Tollaris, “And if we just leave the little bugger here, he’s as good as dead and we’d be just as responsible as the orcs that burned his village down.”
Tollaris threw his arms in the air. “Clearly, there’s no changing that small mind of yours. Fine. You take the kid. You do. I won’t touch the blasted crying siren. You feed it. You change it. You do whatever it takes to take care of it and leave me out of it.”
Tollaris and Rekkar traveled together; and upon reaching the first town, Rekkar used funds he’d made tracking down a small band of pestering goblins to purchase some clothes and food for the infant. Tollaris spent his on drinks and simply shook his head at his friend, as the large half-orc tried to burp the child over his shoulder. “You are destroying our reputation, you know that right?”
Rekkar looked to his friend, “I don’t plan on keeping the infant. When we reach The Silver Sage, I will see about getting rid of the child there.”
“Good,” Tollaris took a deep drink. “Because when we’re out in the wild, that kid’s crying is drawing everything out there right to us. Might as well light a signal fire.”
The duo finally reached the neighboring town, where they often operated from and ventured to the Silver Sage, a house of “ill repute.” The women clamored all over Rekkar to see the child, much to Tollaris’ surprise. Even the offer of glittering gold did not take the women’s eyes off of the young child in the half-orc’s arms.
Ellarisa Flameforge, a dwarven prostitute looked up to Rekkar. “What have ye named the lad?”
“Named him?” Rekkar’s eyes widened and he looked at Tollaris.
Tollaris shook his head and simply said, “Leave me out of it.”
“We’ve named him Grim,” Rekkar finally said. “We found him under grim circumstances. So his name is Grim. I have a favor to ask of you ladies,” he began.
“Of course we will help you take care of him!” they all cheered.
For the next several years, Rekkar and Tollaris continued their professions as sellswords and as always, returned to the Silver Sage. Rekkar watched the infant grow to a young boy, where he shared some of his favorite jokes. “What’s a beholder’s favorite food?” He paused, “Eyes Cream!” Grim laughed, and only had a vague idea what a beholder was. “What happened to the warrior who met an Illithid? It blew his mind!” They laughed and laughed. “Know what a rogue’s favorite metal is? Steel!”
Every few weeks, the duo returned and shared more memories with Grim, and more jokes. Even Tollaris was beginning to become fond of the child when Grim ran up and hugged him. He pushed Grim away, but he couldn’t hide his smile.
One day, when Grim was seventeen, the duo stopped showing up. The headmistress of the Silver Sage, a woman named Janna, approached him and told him that they may have met their match and that he had better get used to the idea that they might not be coming back. Grim took notice that Janna never aged – despite the seventeen years he’d grown, Janna still looked as if she were twenty-five, and according to the other mistresses, she’d been running the Silver Sage “for as long as they could remember.”
Janna soon took an interest in Grim. He had been working around the Silver Sage, to earn his room and board, and had been doing quite a bit of manual labor (much to the enjoyment of the fellow maidens of the Silver Sage). One night, she called Grim to her room – where she seduced him. After a night of love making (his first time, despite the many attempts of the maidens), Janna asked, “If you could have anything in this world – what would it be?”
Grim lying there, with Janna cuddled in his arms, answered, without much thought, “Knowing what happened to Rekkar and Tollaris.”
“Funny,” she said seductively, “I would have thought you may say peace for all, an end to wars…”
“None of that matters to me,” Grim shrugged, “since I am not directly impacted by it.”
“What if I could give you what you wanted, for one small price,” Janna cooed.
“I’d do it,” he shrugged. “What’s the price?”
“What if I said, your soul,” Janna smiled, almost laughing.
“My soul? Sure! What use have I for it?” Grim laughed.
Janna reached out and touched Grim’s forehead, and there he saw Rekkar and Tollaris fighting a band of orcs – and a powerful Shaman was there – he cast a spell that rendered them unconscious, and the duo were dragged away.
He sat up. “They’ve been captured by orcs! Wait.” He looked at Janna who slid out of the bed, her bare body glistening in the moonlight, and for a brief moment, in the reflection of the mirror he thought he saw large bat-like wings, before she slid on her robe. “How did you do that? How did you show me what happened to them?”
Janna turned. “You’d better go. They’ve been slaves to the Red Eye Orcs for several weeks,” she said, ignoring his question. “Most don’t last more than a year. I can’t tell you where they’re being held exactly, but perhaps if you find others to help you…”
Grim forgot his question, threw on his clothes and left the Silver Sage, much to the dismay of the other women. Janna watched from the window, as he rode away – and in her hand, a small glowing sphere that represented his soul.Need a character origin written? Enjoyed what I wrote? How can you help me? Not required, but appreciated! <3
Check out my 5e The Secret of Havenfall Manor or my character back stories over at DMsGuild.com! (If you check it out - please rate, comment, and tell others!)
Subscribe to my D&D Channel on Youtube! (Come by and Sub)
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2020-09-22, 11:55 PM (ISO 8601)Pixie in the Playground
- Join Date
- Sep 2020
Re: Need a character background written up?
Thanks for the help!
It is quite close to the background I had envisioned and toyed with on paper ... just much better!
Just a few questions regarding Janna as I don’t know what pit demons can or cannot do in the world of dnd:
Since she owns his soul or part of it, does this allow her to speak to him in his mind or through visions? Literally haunting him or passively turning him more toward her chaotic side?
Does this also mean she has granted him special abilities, such as exotic languages she knows, Magic, or physical strength?
Can she now bend him to her will and make him do things he may not want to do?
Sorry for all the questions but just don’t want to look like a super noob when it comes time to play.
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2020-09-23, 12:41 AM (ISO 8601)Bugbear in the Playground
- Join Date
- Mar 2004
Re: Need a character background written up?
Argh! Sorry, I forgot to mention in my notes. Rather than a Pit Demon - since you mentioned Grim being all about women - I figured being raised in a "establishment of ill repute" (ie, a brothel) - would have made him see women in such a way. And that Janna isn't a pit demon - but rather a succubus ( https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Succubus ) Originally Posted by Ominae55
As for Janna - I always love leaving doors open for Dungeon Masters to run with.
Does your DM want Janna to be able to telepathically communicate with Grim? Up to the DM!
Same with exotic languages, and such.
It's entirely up to your DM what they want to do with Janna, if anything. Or with the other two who raised Grim (Tollaris and Rekker). Your DM may take all of it - or none of it - and run with it or ignore it.
I always try to make it so that there's something for the DM to toy with. Is one of your missions you go on going to have you trying to save the two who raised you?
Will Janna call on you to do missions for her?
Is she holding that piece of your soul for a reason?
Is there a reason she's on the Prime Material Plane? Is she running from her former master?
Perhaps collecting souls, with the promise, if he master comes for her; she will call on those whose souls she's collected - and make the promise to return their souls, if they help defeat her former master?
All of these ideas and more are entirely up to your DM.
If you enjoy the background - present it to your DM - mention your questions or ideas that might be sparked from it - and see what you guys can work out. :)Last edited by Tawmis; 2020-09-23 at 12:41 AM.
Need a character origin written? Enjoyed what I wrote? How can you help me? Not required, but appreciated! <3
Check out my 5e The Secret of Havenfall Manor or my character back stories over at DMsGuild.com! (If you check it out - please rate, comment, and tell others!)
Subscribe to my D&D Channel on Youtube! (Come by and Sub)
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2020-09-23, 04:28 AM (ISO 8601)Pixie in the Playground
- Join Date
- Sep 2020
Re: Need a character background written up?
That all makes perfect sense. Thanks again!
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2020-09-23, 01:02 PM (ISO 8601)Bugbear in the Playground
- Join Date
- Mar 2004
Re: Need a character background written up?
I knew yours was for your custom content world, so I tried to leave areas, as vague as possible to work it in, hopefully without too much trouble. Originally Posted by Great Dragon
Always a pleasure! Originally Posted by Ominae55
You provided a lot of great detail that made this all too easy and enjoyable to write. Even managed to put in some social messages. :) Originally Posted by xanxosttheslaad
Please reply to the thread and let me know what you think - helps keep the thread bumped and alive!
Enjoy!
==============
Growing up in the streets of poverty in a large city like Neverwinter, it’s easily to become lost and forgotten by the people who quickly walk by you, averting their gaze to stare at walls splattered with offensive graffiti rather than see a poor, stricken, down on their luck, filth covered humanoid. Even those loyal to the best Churches quickly scuttle by as if our filth was a symbol of disease. Perhaps if they knew, when we reached out – we were not reaching out for coin, but rather, help.
This is the life I’d led for most of my life. My father was a Turami human, whose dark skin, and muscular composure had captured the eyes of a female orc when he’d been captured while drunkenly wandering through a forest. My father’s name is Delias, and he is a good man, even if he drinks too much. Much of the coin he earns from his songs, his poetry and stories is in turn, invested back into the local tavern hosting his performances.
My mother, when she saw him captured, and dragged back to the cavern that the orcs had been using as a temporary home – he was being beaten for their amusement, and he was too drunk to defend himself. So she stepped in, claiming that the orcs had been acting dishonorably for beating on my father when he was clearly too inebriated to defend himself. One of the orcs got up and got in her face – she clenched her first and punched him so hard he was knocked off of his feet. The other orcs now turned their attention to the orc who’d been knocked down by a female. But my mother was never a frail woman – even for an orc. She’d been the one that helped shape the caves and make them comfortable with her hands and mallet.
For reasons she says she can’t even explain to this very day – one the second night, when my father was tied up to a post, my mother watched until the guard fell asleep and quietly moved to my father and untied him. That’s all she had to do – untie him. And she did. But then she left with him to help protect him, turning her back on her own people. She knew she would be shamed by the members of her tribe and that she could never go back – so together, they came to Neverwinter with nothing to their name and tried to make a life together. They grew to tolerate – even perhaps love – one another, and eventually I was born. My mother had begun to earn a reputation for her cobblestone work, though a rich human noble named Elkare is the one who paid her meager coins and then took it and sold the fine craftsmanship for much higher, claiming he’d made it with his own (unblistered) hands, because the people of Neverwinter would rather buy from a rich noble than believe that such craftsmanship could come from a peasant orc.
I’d taken up apprenticeship with my mother, just after my younger brother was born, so that I could help maintain our income. Perhaps because I’d spent so much time cobbling stone, but I began to take notice that my father tended to favor my younger brother, even as the years went on. Soon all my father spoke of was, “Kallian this, Kallian that!” It bothered me at first, but I learned to accept that my younger brother was the baby of the family and bore a closer resemblance to my father than I did. He had his skin color while mine was lighter. Perhaps my father was suspicious that I was not his son?
One night, I had been strolling through the poverty streets of Neverwinter when I heard a gurgling cry, and suddenly a human came out of the shadows and shoved a dagger into my hand, before running away into the shadows. Another man came out of the shadows that the first man had just left, stumbling, holding his throat – and under the pale moon, I saw crimson running between his fingers as he collapsed at my feet. I immediately recognized him as Elkare, the human my mother dealt with. He was on his way to our home. In fear, I dropped the dagger, just as local authorities turned the corner and saw me leaning over him, bloody dagger on the floor.
My trial was a sham. Members of Elkare claimed there were with him and saw me, and barely escaped with their lives (though they had no cuts or bruises or even torn clothes). They couldn’t even answer where Elkare had been murdered and claimed “the poverty streets all look the same – full of beggars, bards, and wooden homes. How could we tell where we were?”
Six weeks into my sentence, the explosion of Mount Hotenow changed the face of the city of Neverwinter forever. Myself, and the prisoners who had survived were put on wagons to be placed in other prisons or to work off the rest of our time as servants (though some might call it slavery) to various nobles.
I was assigned to work for Retney Ravenhill, a noble in Waterdeep. Two days of being there, he personally paid me a visit to ask what I had done. I explained the truth of what happened, and he told me that someone – or several people – were willing to pay him an exuberant amount of money to arrange an “accident” to happen to me. I immediately knew this had to be the family of Elkare. Lord Ravenhill said he would decline the generous offer if I promised to work hard. I promised him that’s all I knew how to do – and I was being truthful.
Several months later, several servants were suddenly in a panic. Lord Ravenhill had been poisoned! I rushed up to Lord Ravenhill’s dining room where he was frothing at the mouth, his body shaking violently. I knew this had to be the work of the Elkare family – they had poisoned him since he declined their bribe to arrange an “accident” for me. I placed my hands on his chest and prayed to the gods to undo this vile poison.
To my surprise, my entire body glowed white – and I felt the poison leave his skin and enter mine, and when all the poison had been extracted and the light faded, I fell over vomiting violently. When Lord Ravenhill recovered and heard what I’d done – the poison had taken away the mobility of his left leg, so he now walked with a cane – but he came down and cut my chains free. “You are free to go. Thank you for saving my life.”
“It wasn’t just me, it was also Xag-Ya,” I said.
“Who is Xag-Ya? I don’t recall any of my servants with such a name?” Ravenhill inquired.
“No, it is I who is a servant of Xag-Ya,” I replied. “I heard her voice in my head as I pulled the poison from your body. She filled me with peace and tranquility even as my body grew sick from pulling the poison from you and into me.” I pointed to the white spider on my shoulder. “She came to me.”
“Then my thanks goes to the one you call Xag-Ya as well,” Ravenhill smiled. “I wish you both the best in life. Know you will always have an ally in me and a place to call home.”
Lord Ravenhill provided me with equipment as I set out into the world. Perhaps I could find my younger brother and see where he is and how he has been?
A lot of this is back and forth between two NPCs I introduce. Being unsure of what your "Step 1" other background mission/origin was - I leave that open at the very end of this. Originally Posted by KyleG
I enjoyed writing this - and imagined how the two NPCs I introduced were interacting with your character - and it made me chuckle a few times.
I hope you enjoy it and would love feedback in this thread - as the thread has sank deep in the forum pages, so a reply would give it life again!
So please let me know your thoughts!
Enjoy!
======================================
I have spent my entire life in an endless battle. I have fought for a cause. I have seen triumph. I have seen failure. I have seen men live. I have seen men die. The faces over the years have changed, but the results are always the same. Blood spilled by the dying – they all sound the same. The look of fear and anguish painted on their faces as they see the shadow of Death.
I step through a portal – the world shimmers and blurs behind me. Reality spins wildly and finally I come to a halt landing in a marshland. The crickets cease their chirping unsure of my presence – this new stranger that now stands among them – like no other they’ve ever seen before. After a moment, the crickets resume their song, and I sit and listen.
I want to change. I want to find peace. I want to find balance. Though the swamp bares the same stench of a battlefield littered with dead, the sound of the crickets is calming, soothing, and rhythmic. I close my eyes and welcome the peace. I feel the sun rise and fall; the heat of the day and the chill of the night. Time passes. How much? I can not say. Time has never mattered much to me the way it does humans and other humanoids.
I am awakened by the sound of voices – which is unusual in this swamp. It’s the first time I’ve heard another voice in… countless cycles of the sun. I open my eyes and see a human and half-elf cautiously approaching me. The human is male while the half-elf is female.
“What is that?” I hear the female inquire.
“A statue of some kind,” the male replies. “It’s been here for awhile based on the amount of galias moss growing all over it.”
Has it been that long? I look at my arms, my body, and see it – even as this green moss covers parts of my head and obscures my view. Indeed, I have been here for a very long time.
“Do you think it’s dangerous?” the female asks.
“I don’t even think it’s alive,” the male retorted as he poked me gently with a stick.
I rose to my feet, sending them both toppling backwards in surprise. “I am quite alive,” I say, matter-of-factly. “I did not realize I’d spent so long here in the swamps. The music of the swamp was a … soothing change from what I am used to.”
“What are you?” the male asked as he pulled himself to his feet, pulling off the moss from his body.
“I am… a stranger,” I said, unsure of how to properly answer the question. “Who are you?”
“My name is Thoh,” he said, his hands on his chest. “This here besides me is,” he looked at her, “my girlfriend. Her name is Yivan.”
“First,” the female sighed, her hands firmly placed on her hips, “I am not your girlfriend. You’ve never officially ever asked me to be.”
Thoh turned at her with a pleading face, “Is now really the time to discuss this?”
“Is now really the time to announce that I am your girlfriend to this talking statue,” she gestured towards me in frustration.
Thoh heaved a deep sigh and turned back towards me. “I apologize. Yivan and I often sneak away from the Monastery from time to time to see the world.”
Yivan nodded, “I don’t know why I let this numbskull talk me into it. Last week we ran into goblins which we barely got away from.”
“Well, all that talk of inner peace,” Thoh shook his head. “The world out here is not like that.”
“Tell me of this Monastery and this inner peace,” I suddenly cut off Thoh’s rambling.
“Well, it’s where we study. The Order of The Rising Light,” Thoh explained. “It’s the order of Monks. The Monastery is only a few hours away. We could take you there.”
“Thoh!” Yivan’s voice was sharp. “What has gotten into you? How are you going to explain a waddling, eight foot … thing,” she looked over at me and whispered, “No offense.”
“None taken,” I replied.
“I believe the Masters would be interested in…” Thoh turned and looked at me.
An awkward moment of silence hung in the air.
“Warforged,” I replied.
“Your name is Warforged?” Thoh’s eyes opened wide with concern.
“No,” I replied, “that’s what I am.”
“What is your name?” Thoh asked, thinking that would be better than introducing the towering thing as “Warforged.”
“Name? I’ve never had one,” I shrugged. “I was never made to be taken care of.”
“We will call you Swamp Forged,” Thoh said, with a smile, “since we found you in the swamp.”
“That’s a horrible name,” Yivan sighed. “How about Tarn.”
“Tarn?” Thoh sighed. “You mean from the ancient texts?”
“Yes,” Yivan replied. “Tarn was a giant man who sought to change his war like ways.”
“I like that,” I replied.
“Fine,” Thoh threw up his arms. “Tarn it is. Don’t go always siding with her Tarn. She’s already difficult enough to live with.”
As expected, my appearance at the Monastery was greeted with surprise. And just as Yivan suspected, both she and Thoh were being scolded for venturing into the swamps – because of the danger those swamps represented.
“If I may,” I injected. “They saved me. I would have been lost to the swamps forever. They have told me of your ways of finding peace. Tranquility. These are the things I desperate seek. To find balance.”
Master Megumi heaved a deep sigh. “It would go against our ways to turn you from us. We offer our home to you. If you wish to learn our ways we shall teach you.”
Days turned to weeks and weeks into months, and months into years, as I slowly embraced this new way of living – observing. Always observing. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, my mission awaited – the sign for me to become who I was truly meant to be. The true reason I was sent here.Last edited by Tawmis; 2020-10-06 at 10:42 PM.
Need a character origin written? Enjoyed what I wrote? How can you help me? Not required, but appreciated! <3
Check out my 5e The Secret of Havenfall Manor or my character back stories over at DMsGuild.com! (If you check it out - please rate, comment, and tell others!)
Subscribe to my D&D Channel on Youtube! (Come by and Sub)
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2020-10-08, 03:36 PM (ISO 8601)Dwarf in the Playground
- Join Date
- Apr 2020
- Location
- EST
Re: Need a character background written up?
Thanks Tawmis! This is fantastic, and works well with what I already had in mind. I've been playing as Isoba in my family game, and I hope the opportunity comes up soon where I can incorporate these details! :)
I also want you to know that I greatly appreciate what you do here; I make a lot of character ideas, and never play enough to put the vast majority of them to use. It's reassuring for someone else to help breath life into one of my creations and tell his story.
I wish all the best to you and your family!
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2020-10-09, 09:20 AM (ISO 8601)Dwarf in the Playground
- Join Date
- Apr 2016
Re: Need a character background written up?
Theother.... Human polearm master fighter, thx
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2020-10-13, 01:15 AM (ISO 8601)Bugbear in the Playground
- Join Date
- Mar 2004
Re: Need a character background written up?
Consider it added. You're leaving me a very open playing field. Any traits, personalities you want to see? Or just let me run wild? :) Originally Posted by dnd2016
This was enjoyable to write - I wrote his younger years, and perhaps the Dire Wolf has some magic to it... Originally Posted by Goldlizard
You will see what I mean at the end, to explain a longer life.
I wasn't sure if you ever had the Goliath leave his area - and where he's retired...
But I figure, I wrote his younger years - maybe after this, he began to explore the world, realizing there's more out there to see (which is where I was headed with the personality).
Apologies it's taken so long - my wife's health has been an issue consuming all of my time, effort, and energy.
For reference of the map location - https://www.aidedd.org/atlas/index.php?map=R&l=1
As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts.
A reply helps keep the thread bumped, and so when I add new backgrounds, it can keep it alive.
As always, enjoy!
====================
Here in the frozen reaches of The Frostmourn – north of Raven Rock, yet south of Reghed Glacier, my people have lived for countless centuries. We have made Frostmourn our home, because it is away from all others – the dwarves, the gnomes, the humans, the elves, the goblins, the orcs, and all of their kind. It allows us to live our lives, fairly peacefully, away from the constant bloodshed and war that seems to consume the world far below.
Because resources are scarce in these frozen mountain tops; fauna and beast being the only food supply and so rare in these conditions, the only ones we have found ourselves at odds with are the Frost Giants of Frostmourn – a band of giants who follow their Chief, Rimebeard. Because of the constant threat of Rimebeard and his fellow Frost Giants, my people created a “Draft” in which once you reach the age of becoming an adult by the age of seventeen cycles, you are recruited into the army to train for the onslaught that comes every Winter.
All my life, I’ve despised fighting and the war. Perhaps because it claimed the life of my father and my oldest brother when I was young. I had watched my mother struggle without my father, and though I know she never meant it – I was a reminder that she had another son that perished in the senseless battles against the Frost Giants. When the time came, I knew I could not join the army – I had to find a way out, but could not run away – I just needed to take care of my mother. The only way to escape being recruited was to join the Monastery of Snowfall. The Monastery of Snowfall were Goliaths who believed in achieving inner peace and despised violence, and fought only in self-defense; never eager to rush out and prove themselves.
So at seventeen, I joined the Monastery of Snowfall and trained with the Monks, namely Morita Hailfist. Despite her best efforts to train me to “find my center” and channel my “Ki Energy” – I never seemed to be able to do it. After months of failed attempts she sat me down to ask why I truly joined the Monastery of Snowfall, to which I confessed, I did not want to fight – and possibly die – and leave my mother with no one to help her. Despite this being a crime, quite punishable by my people, Morita kept my secret – and instead, showed me how to fight using my fists, without channeling Ki energy. She explained that she would train me to become a pugilist – someone, capable of fighting with their fists without channeling Ki, and being very good at it. Because I trained with her, and she was indeed a Monk, I learned a number of astounding techniques in how to fight – how to read a person’s body and understand when they shift their weight on their foot, what they’re more than likely going to do; and how to read and watch their eyes, to see where they’re looking and where they might try to strike next so I can defend and counterattack. When I asked her why she’d taught me these things, because it went against the code of peace and tranquility, she explained she lost her family in the battles against the Frost Giants, and saw herself in me.
Morita and I became fast friends, with our bond of lost family members, and the secrets we kept about each other. Several years ago, I learned that Morita perished while out trying to save a family of humans who had wandered too far up the mountain and found themselves being attacked by a yeti – a dangerous predator in these frozen mountains. She perished, but she had bought the humans enough time to turn and escape.
It was several weeks after that, that I had been wandering the frozen wastes. My mother had just died of natural causes, and normally I would have spoken to Morita about how I felt – and what I should do next. But I had no one – and I was feeling very lost – very alone – when I heard a yelp from what appeared to be a dog. I ran in that direction and saw that a bear had cornered a young dire wolf; and based upon the blood splatter on the snow, looked to have perhaps critically wounded the dire wolf. I ran towards it, jumped on the bear from behind and wrapped my arms around it, and managed to break the massive bear’s neck. I dragged the bear back to our village – it would provide meat, furs and fat to be used – but I also dragged the dire wolf with me. It didn’t look like it would make it through the night. It’d lost a lot of blood.
Before I went to sleep, I placed my hands on the gaping wound as I’d seen Morita do many times to heal cuts and wounds and prayed to the gods to spare this dire wolf. When I awoke the following morning, I found it cuddled against my body, its chest rising and falling, and the wound gone. I named him Greytooth and he followed me faithfully.
I wondered – had it been Morita who directed me that night to find the Dire Wolf so that I would have someone in my life again?
Sorry about the delay - this was enjoyable to write. I didn't do much in terms of NPC interactions (which I often to do help develop a character). Originally Posted by Lysimarchos
Rather this time, I pretty much solely focused on your character.
The locations I mentioned are specific to Forgotten Realms (I assume FR is where most characters are played unless noted otherwise), and used actual references.
You can see a great map here: https://www.aidedd.org/atlas/index.php?map=R&l=1
I'd love to hear your thoughts on what I wrote.
It helps me (as a writer), and also helps keep the thread alive!
Enjoy!
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You place your faith into the hands of the gods. It’s an odd feeling. Trusting; believing; in something you can’t see, but you can feel all around you. Is our faith in our gods any different than placing our faith in the wind? We can feel it all around us, yet we can not see it nor hold it. Like our gods, the winds can be furious or gentle.
As a Cleric of Maelther, it’s my duty and faith to believe in my god; and not only that, understand one of the other great mysteries of the world – magic. Gaining knowledge in understand how those who do not have the power of their faith behind them wielding powerful magic that can reign down death from the heavens is critical for the Church of Maelther.
While it’s true that there are Mages all throughout the land that need to be kept in check; my god called upon me to do another mission. There are a handful of us selected to become Inquisitors. We hunt down and deliver justice to those whose souls have been corrupted by the great powers of magic. We hunt down cultists of dark powers, heretics, and blasphemers among the faithful. Those who use necromancy for darkness – extending their own lives, or raising the dead, that should only know peace in the heavens.
Unlike many Inquisitors of our Order, I wanted to be sure to follow the creed of my god; and that was to seek Knowledge. I want to know my enemies before I judge them. I traveled to the Misty Forest where I studied among Druids – to see how they use their powers to balance nature. Next I studied at Gillian’s Hill, and some of the artifacts that had surfaced there from the tomb that led to the Underdark, that had since been spell-guarded. It was here I learned much about those who dabbled in demonology and dark arts. Many cultists gathered around the surrounding areas of Gillian’s Hill, drawn by the dark power that emanated all around the village.
I soon earned quite the reputation at Gillian’s Hill, where I spent years, becoming a part of the town. I found more than a dozen cultists, destroyed several dark places of worship, and earned the love and respect of the citizens of Gillian’s Hill.
Word of my victories reached Waterdeep, where the main Church of my Order was positioned. A summons was sent for me to come to Waterdeep. The people of Gillian’s Hill were quite disappointed with the news of my departure, but I was sure that the summoning meant that I would be taking a position as a Priest of Maelther in the great chapel and could live my life comfortably, perhaps settle, get a family, children.
However, that is not what greeted me when I arrived. The Order was in a large dispute between the progressive side – which believed in dispatching death to the guilty, against the conservative side, which believed that we were overstepping our bounds as Inquisitors and that the guilty should be brought to the law.
Days of arguing turned to weeks. Weeks turned into a month. The Order was in disarray and I felt like everyone had lost focus of what we were. One night, I simply went to the stables, grabbed the reigns of a horse and rode into the night.
Perched on the black stallion I called ‘Darksky’ – I paused.
You place your faith into the hands of the gods. It’s an odd feeling. Trusting; believing; in something you can’t see, but you can feel all around you. Is our faith in our gods any different than placing our faith in the wind? We can feel it all around us, yet we can not see it nor hold it. Like our gods, the winds can be furious or gentle.
With a nudge of my foot, the dark horse rode into the night, and we let the wind take us where ever it might go.
Despite the darker tone of your character, I still injected quite a bit of personality and humor through your character's reactions and thoughts. Originally Posted by Ogre Mage
Tollaris and Rekkar are from another person's origin I wrote: https://forums.giantitp.com/showsing...&postcount=818
The witch's home - Frostmourn comes from another origin I wrote for someone: https://forums.giantitp.com/showsing...&postcount=825 and explains how you know Giant
And for good measure, I threw in Alaric of Whitegrove - which I just wrote in your origin too: https://forums.giantitp.com/showsing...&postcount=825
Once again alluding to the "Tawmis-Verse" where everything is connected through alternate realities. :-)
I hope you enjoy what I did here - apologize about the delay, the wife's health has been my primary concern.
Would love any thoughts or feedback you have!
As always, enjoy!
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Perhaps I’ve made some poor choices throughout my life. Perhaps I can blame circumstance; not having a mother or father figure to help me as I grew up; no one to nurture me and love me. Blaming something – anything – else has always been my preferred choice. But if there’s a deity out there and they’re watching me, only they and I know the truth. Circumstances be damned, it boils down to the choices I’ve made. And that’s why I’m here, hands tied behind my back, my neck in a guillotine as this overweight, blubbering human is rattling off a list of charges being brought up against me – some of which, I admit, are true – but most are not.
His name is Mayor Buggledorm – gods, even his name makes him sound overweight. His fat, pig like appendages that pass for fingers unroll the parchment that details the list of my crimes – everything from theft of jewelry to theft of horses and food. There’s even an account of murder thrown in there for good measure, though no one has been murdered in Liam’s Hold. But what can you expect from a small hamlet like this?
How did I get here, you might be asking yourself. And how will I get out?
Well, my name is Suspiria – I have no last name, because, as I said, I never knew who my mother or father were. My earliest memory is stealing food, while living on the streets of Waterdeep. I was five years old. How I even survived to the age of four – if my mother and father were with me until then and abandoned me, were murdered, arrested – I have no idea. No one ever came looking for me to claim me as their child. That probably left an impact on me. As I imagine it would anyone, really. I fell in with a human named Tollaris who said he sensed something special about me.
He brought me down into the wandering mazes of the sewers beneath Waterdeep – and despite the constant turns, I could tell he was purposely walking me in circles to disorient me. Much to my surprise, there was an entire community existing down in the sewers that ranged from humans to halflings – all operating as thieves. But Tollaris brought me before an elderly woman – blind in both eyes, by the looks of it – since they were both as grey as the morning sea fog of Waterdeep.
She reached out her yellow, withered hand and whispered, “The girl has magic in her.”
“Should I cut it out of her?” Tollaris had asked, quickly drawing his dagger. “Did she swallow a magic ring or something? I noticed her pick pocketing nobles on the street.”
“No,” the woman hissed. “She is born of magic. It courses through her veins, similar to myself. Tell me girl, what is in your blood? Is it demon? Dragon? Ancient wizard?”
“I am not sure, I do not know my parents,” I replied, shrugging as I bit into some bread that had been in Tollaris’ pouch. Tollaris looked at the bread then in his pouch then scowled deeply at me.
“Then I shall teach you magic, pretty one,” the old hag smiled.
I was not afraid of her unusual, large, appearance, but I asked, “What are you?”
“Me?” she smiled, rows of yellow teeth missing. “I am a Goliath. I come from the frozen mountains, a place called Frostmourn – just north of Raven Hill and south of Reghed Glacier. My great, great, great, grandmother was a Storm Giant who was powerful in the ways of magic. Like you, magic was born into my bloodline. My name is Fenja. Whatever shall we call you?”
“Suspect,” Tollaris muttered.
“Suspiria,” Fenja smiled, hearing Tollaris but using the tongue of Giants for the word “Suspect.”
For weeks Fenja showed me how to channel the magic that coursed in my veins. She showed me how to summon a magical hand, create small illusions, even a shocking grasp, which I had too much fun tricking Tollaris with.
I learned that Fenja ran the thieves guild on this side of the city and ran it well. Thieves of other guilds who dared enter her territory were dealt with… which usually meant sending Tollaris and his half-orc friend, Rekkar to “deal with the problem.” Dealing with the problem always had them returning, drenched in blood.
By the age of sixteen, I was quite capable with magic – and Fenja said I would have to earn my own keep. She sent me out to use my magic to trick people into giving me coin – and everything was going well until a man passing through the street, grabbed me by the wrist and jerked on my arm. He was human and looked at me sternly. “My name is Alaric of Whitegrove, and I am an Inquisitor of Maelther. I can sense darkness in you girl. Change your ways or pray that our paths do not cross again. I will not be so merciful.”
That was all two years ago. Fenja told me when I reached eighteen that I would need to go out in the world and find my own fate. Didn’t think that meant having my neck in a guillotine with my hands tied behind my back.
“… and dark sorcery!” Mayor Buggledorm of Liam’s Hold concluded. “For which, her punishment is death!” He gestured to the executioner who tugged on the line. I heard the guillotine release – and using my magic – I stopped it. I used Mage Hand to hold the guillotine in place, then quickly cast Grease on my hands, allowing me to easily get out of the knots. Mayor Buggledorm was screaming at the guards to do something! However, a quick Misty Step to stand next to him, followed by a shocking grasp in his groin forced him to stop talking and let out a scream – as well as soil himself.
I called for Nightwing, my owl, who flew directly at the executioner, who tripped and fell into the guillotine, barely getting out of it in time, as I released the Mage Hand. I leapt down on the horse that they had accused me of falsely stealing (so I might as well make good of it now), and rode off into the sunset.
Perhaps I’ve made some poor choices throughout my life. Perhaps I can blame circumstance; not having a mother or father figure to help me as I grew up; no one to nurture me and love me. Blaming something – anything – else has always been my preferred choice. But if there’s a deity out there and they’re watching me, only they and I know the truth. Circumstances be damned, it boils down to the choices I’ve made.Last edited by Tawmis; 2020-10-13 at 03:24 AM.
Need a character origin written? Enjoyed what I wrote? How can you help me? Not required, but appreciated! <3
Check out my 5e The Secret of Havenfall Manor or my character back stories over at DMsGuild.com! (If you check it out - please rate, comment, and tell others!)
Subscribe to my D&D Channel on Youtube! (Come by and Sub)
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2020-10-19, 07:27 PM (ISO 8601)Dwarf in the Playground
- Join Date
- Jul 2018
- Gender
Re: Need a character background written up?
Thanks for Old Bearkiller! He's an old SOB, but the rest of the party loves him. Always talking about the "War" and how horrible it was. Plus, he insists that he be carted around in a wheelchair, even though he can walk just fine. (Once stood up and beat up a demon with the chair. The Demon ran from him and partially petrified him, because he was dealing crazy amounts of damage to the thing with Haymakers. thus is my favorite quote: "Does a wheelchair and the bodies of the fallen count as improvised weapons?". Killed the thing with the wheelchair, folded it back, and sat down before the rest of the party showed up. Immediately demanded they push me into the next room, as his arms are tired.
Thanks for the Background!
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2020-10-20, 12:03 PM (ISO 8601)Bugbear in the Playground
- Join Date
- Mar 2004
Re: Need a character background written up?
Hah! I love that he smacked a demon with a wheelchair! Looks like I captured a more sensitive side, but I hope it still works with what you had in mind! Originally Posted by Goldlizard
Need a character origin written? Enjoyed what I wrote? How can you help me? Not required, but appreciated! <3
Check out my 5e The Secret of Havenfall Manor or my character back stories over at DMsGuild.com! (If you check it out - please rate, comment, and tell others!)
Subscribe to my D&D Channel on Youtube! (Come by and Sub)
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2020-10-27, 06:49 PM (ISO 8601)Pixie in the Playground
- Join Date
- Dec 2018
Re: Need a character background written up?
Wow. This is really great. Sadly I did not have the change to play this character yet (my group changed to a new system, and the avaliable character options didn't work so well for this concept), but now I definitely want to find a way to play him. I definitely like how philosophical you made him. Originally Posted by Tawmis
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2020-11-19, 05:31 AM (ISO 8601)Pixie in the Playground
- Join Date
- Feb 2017
- Location
- Alaska
- Gender
Re: Need a character background written up?
This background can wait a good long while I feel no rush for this but I felt you would do better with this
So the Character themselves is another warforged in this case a redemption paladin.
The main gimic I came up with for this one though is that they were made to look more like a certain person the one whose soul was used to awaken this warforged by their creator. This soul was of a paladin that redeemed the creator who died eventually to save people this warforged was made to honor that sacrifice and to keep their legacy going.
My problem is as this warforged has this paladins memory they would know what happened I personally do not.
Both the creator and the Paladin are humanoid one is male one is female the order symbol and possibly name would be the bloody rose. This would have all taken place before the warforged was made though so it is more of a memory than a direct experience. If you have any questions if you decide to write this let me know. Keep up your wonderful stories and hopefully life get easier for you.
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2020-11-19, 01:42 PM (ISO 8601)Bugbear in the Playground
- Join Date
- Mar 2004
Re: Need a character background written up?
I would love to give this a swing - do you have a preference of the soul who the Warforge is based off of (the male or the female?) - and what's the relationship between the male and female? Same order? Just friends? Originally Posted by dragonearth
Need a character origin written? Enjoyed what I wrote? How can you help me? Not required, but appreciated! <3
Check out my 5e The Secret of Havenfall Manor or my character back stories over at DMsGuild.com! (If you check it out - please rate, comment, and tell others!)
Subscribe to my D&D Channel on Youtube! (Come by and Sub)
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2020-11-30, 02:58 AM (ISO 8601)Pixie in the Playground
- Join Date
- Feb 2017
- Location
- Alaska
- Gender
Re: Need a character background written up?
I don't mind the gender I play 50-50 myself. The Creator and the Paladin are opposite genders they fell in love but shortly after the creator was saved and redeemed the Paladin died. They knew each other before they were adventures. One of the reasons why it is hard for the creator to be around the warforged is cause of that bond that the warforged may or may not have. Originally Posted by Tawmis
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2020-11-30, 06:39 AM (ISO 8601)Bugbear in the Playground
- Join Date
- Sep 2018
Re: Need a character background written up?
Hey Tawmis! Been awhile, but I got some characters that I'd love help with fleshing out and getting on paper.
I won't flood you with all the requests at once, but here's what I have for the first one.
Name: Seeker (Previously Sentry, details below)
Race: Warforged (Previously Human, details below)
Class: Armorer Artificer
Age: ~5 years since woke up as Warforged, between 40 and 50 years old as a Human prior to that.
Sentry Age: ~ 4 year old Warforged.
So the basics of this is its actually me fleshing out one of my players characters. The character Seeker woke up with no previous memories. Thus they assume they are what they have always been. The thing is they left everything BEFORE waking up to me.
Seeker escaped from another plane that was/is under assault by an extraplanar force. (Think StarCraft zerg, they come in destory/consume and move on) There he was a human that was trying to find help. Either a place to escape to, or a world to get assistance from. He remembers none of this, but will get hints about it throughout the campaign. He managed to get his SOUL out of that world. When it got to this world it was lost, confused, and looking for its body. It instead found a damaged Warforged. Its soul melded with the broken body of the Warforged and that's when he woke up. He doesn't remember any of it.
I need/want help with two things for this character. Who he was as a Human before the ritual that propelled his Soul through the Void (my Astral space between planes/worlds). And also who the Warforged (Sentey) who's body he is in was before his/her death.
All I have for the Warforged is that he/she is missing an arm and was serving in the Cyre Military during The Last War (Eberron campaign setting, heavily modified so don't worry about sticking to lore here if you don't want to/know it) and was called Sentry.
I really enjoyed working with you on my previous character and look forward to it once again :)
Edit: Not that I think it will matter, but the world he came from is populated solely by Humans and the monstrous races, and the world he went to I have removed Humans completely but all the other races are present. Elves are the most populous race, but all other fantasy races, dwarves, gnomes, Goliath, etc, are all present.Last edited by Galithar; 2020-11-30 at 06:56 AM.
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2020-12-11, 06:14 PM (ISO 8601)Bugbear in the Playground
- Join Date
- Mar 2004
Re: Need a character background written up?
Thanks for the additional info! Originally Posted by dragonearth
Not sure why I didn't get a notification for this! Consider it added! Going to try and knock out these over the weekend! Originally Posted by Galithar
Need a character origin written? Enjoyed what I wrote? How can you help me? Not required, but appreciated! <3
Check out my 5e The Secret of Havenfall Manor or my character back stories over at DMsGuild.com! (If you check it out - please rate, comment, and tell others!)
Subscribe to my D&D Channel on Youtube! (Come by and Sub)
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2020-12-12, 12:51 AM (ISO 8601)Bugbear in the Playground
- Join Date
- Sep 2018
Re: Need a character background written up?
Awesome! Thank you. I just assumed you had gotten busy with life and would get to my request whenever you had time to clear the writing queue up! Originally Posted by Tawmis
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2021-01-03, 03:20 AM (ISO 8601)Bugbear in the Playground
- Join Date
- Mar 2004
Re: Need a character background written up?
Screams. Shouts. Swords clashing. Originally Posted by dragonearth
Darkness.
A battlefield. Men, women, dying.
Darkness.
A woman. Shadows. Retribution.
Darkness.
It’s a cycle that repeats in – my mind? Do I have a mind? Are these… memories?
Of what? A past life?
I stare at my mechanical hands. Did I have a life before this?
And then there’s her – the female mage, Nallia. She is both close and distant to me. There are times where it seems perhaps she has known me forever – and other times, where she looks at me with such sadness in her eyes. I don’t understand.
Many years ago…
Nallia placed her hand on Terrin’s battered arm. “You don’t have to do this.”
Terrin, through blond hair, matted in blood and plastered to his face, looked back at Nallia. “They’re wrong about you. And I will die to prove it to them – but if they insist, I will kill as many of them as I can to prove it to them.”
A commanding voice echoed from outside the cave. “Terrin, this is your last chance. Come out with your blade thrown at my feet. We know Nallia is responsible for the explosion that killed the three farmers. This is your last chance to surrender, and we will give you a fair trial, and understand that you have been manipulated by her magic.”
The voice belonged to Harus, the leader of the Blood Rose, and Terrin’s closest friend. “I am of sound mind, Harus. You know I am. If you send your soldiers in here, you know I will kill them. I may not kill them all, but you will be delivering the tragic news that these sons and daughters died, because you knowingly sent them to their death.” The Order of the Blood Rose was named because they were the battle ready Paladins who did what they had to – by any means necessary – to preserve justice.
Terrin looked up and saw it was none other than Harus who had entered the cave that he and Nallia had taken cover in. Terrin gripped his sword. “Harus, don’t make me do this.”
“I would say the same thing,” Harus replied, locking eyes with his best friend. “Would you kill me, for her?” He gestured behind Terrin.
“I would do what our order has always done,” Terrin growled as Harus edged ever so slowly closer. “I would ensure that she was given a true trial.”
“That’s what we all want, my friend,” Harus replied.
“No,” Terrin growled. “You would have her tried here where emotions run high. She would not be given a fair trial here. You know that as well as I do.”
Harus drew his sword. “I am sad it’s come to this, then.”
Swords clashed in the darkness.
A few moments later Harus walked out of the cave. The others who had followed him here cheered.
Then he fell to his knees, his vacant eyes gazing towards the heavens.
Terrin and Nallia were now running deeper into the caves. Terrin had sheathed his weapon and was holding onto Nallia’s hand. “Follow me. Harus and I used to come here as children. There’s an opening down here. I will get you to the Capital.”
For six nights, Terrin and Nallia were on the run; fleeing from the order he once served so faithfully; fought in countless battles for.
On the seventh night, they reached the gates of the Capital, beaten, cut, bruised, dehydrated and famished and took sanctuary in the Church of Life and Light. Spending several nights here, Nallia willingly turned herself in at the Capital for the crime she’d been accused of.
Shockingly, Terrin would learn that none other than his best friend, Harus, had been behind the explosion that had killed those farmers. The Guild had gathered evidence now that showed he had fallen and served The Black Serpent Order – and that they had needed the land, which the farmers had refused to sell. So killing them and framing Nallia, while striking a blow to his righteous friend, all seemed to fit his plan.
Nallia was cleared of her crimes; and while celebrating, Terrin had gone to the bar to retrieve a drink; and in the bustling tavern no one saw who had done it – but a shadowy figure approached Terrin with a dagger and stabbed him over thirty times in mere seconds, under the armpit, piercing his heart. He bled to death before he could ever be saved. The last thing Terrin saw was Nallia, kneeling over him, crying, and caressing his face.
It was six years to the day, when Nallia finally completed the spell – she had created a Warforged in the replica of Terrin, her heart unable to let him go – but, in the end, the Warforged did nothing to heal her heart – it only broke it ever more.Need a character origin written? Enjoyed what I wrote? How can you help me? Not required, but appreciated! <3
Check out my 5e The Secret of Havenfall Manor or my character back stories over at DMsGuild.com! (If you check it out - please rate, comment, and tell others!)
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2021-01-03, 03:43 AM (ISO 8601)Pixie in the Playground
- Join Date
- Feb 2017
- Location
- Alaska
- Gender
Re: Need a character background written up?
Welp, this order of the bloody rose is as intense as I feel redemption Paladins really are. It is hard to get across the extreme self sacrifice that they have but this does it perfectly. Gives me the perfect base to go off of. Thanks again for your wonderful writing. Originally Posted by Tawmis
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2021-01-03, 03:46 AM (ISO 8601)Pixie in the Playground
- Join Date
- Feb 2017
- Location
- Alaska
- Gender
Re: Need a character background written up?
A soul of self sacrifice made anew
That is the title I am giving this backstory hope the dm I use this with also enjoys it as much as I do.
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2021-01-05, 01:39 PM (ISO 8601)Dwarf in the Playground
- Join Date
- Jun 2012
- Gender
Re: Need a character background written up?
I started a backstory thread here that I'd love your thoughts on https://forums.giantitp.com/showthre...er-Shadow-Monk
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2021-01-05, 08:27 PM (ISO 8601)Bugbear in the Playground
- Join Date
- Mar 2004
Re: Need a character background written up?
I love leaving doors open for the DM to explore - perhaps Terrin's murderer comes up again? :) Originally Posted by dragonearth
I wrote you one in my thread (below) - will go to yours to link it back here. Originally Posted by Eliana Solange
I made a few changes from what you had already down - the stealing of orcs and such, felt like there was too much Rogue in there.
So I took that out in my rendition, which you don't have to use. Just enjoyed the challenging of fleshing out what you had.
The (1) note - if you don't recognize the quote, it's a very, very, very close reference to something in WATERSHIP DOWN.
The (2) note is the gift you mentioned your DM was allowing - you'd mentioned, potentially a tattoo.
Zag was a young adult, Dankwood Goblin. Dankwood Goblins were similar to the more common goblins spread throughout the lands; but they were different in their demeanor. Unlike their more common cousins, Dankwood Goblins had an affinity to nature. Whereas their cousins would maraud and attack passersby, Dankwood Goblins would rather sit by a stream and enjoy the soothing rippling sounds of a stream or engage in a rather odd conversation with animals. Originally Posted by Eliana Solange
This is how Zag had met Numlefluff – a tan rabbit. Zag had watched as Numblefluff avoided death from foxes, eagles, wolves – always nimble, always quick. Zag had earned the rabbit’s trust by feeding it, Zag sacrificing their own food in order to gain this unusual rabbit’s trust. As Zag was petting its tan fur, she said, “I feel like you. The world hates me because of my goblin cousins and thinks I am like them because I look like them.” Zag smiled as the rabbit cuddled into her lap. “I wish I could be like you,” Zag said, as she laid her head back against the tree she’d been sitting against, the warmth of the rabbit in her lags, her hands gingerly stroking the soft fur.
“You can be like me,” Zag heard a voice. “All the world is our enemy, you and I. Whenever they catch us, they will kill us as their enemy or for food. But first, they must catch us; be cunning and full of tricks and we shall never be destroyed.” (1)
Zag awoke from her nap and stared down at the rabbit, whose twitchy nose seemed to peer up at Zag before nuzzling back into Zag’s lap. “Did you just talk to me?”
The rabbit’s ear twitched, but otherwise made no other indication that it’d heard Zag.
For the days that followed, Zag kept an eye on Numlefluff – and observed how the rabbit would always be aware of its exits should a predator appear. The rabbit was clearly in touch with its natural surroundings and understood how to escape any danger. Zag began to practice, using imaginary enemies appearing, how she might escape any given area she was standing in. Zag was practicing her survival skills when the crackling sounds of a campfire drew her attention. She moved closely and saw three humans and two dwarves sitting around a campfire, discussing rumors of a dungeon near the distant city of Waterdeep. Zag had spied on plenty of travelers who had come through these woods before and heard the name “Waterdeep” mentioned several times – and from what she’d gathered, it was a rather large and magnificent city.
“You should go,” Zag heard the voice in her head. She had to cover her mouth to prevent letting out a startled scream and alerting those around the campfire. She turned and saw Numlefluff right behind her, nose twitching, nibbling on grass.
“Was that you? Can you talk?” Zag whispered. Dankwood Goblins had an affinity to the animals of the land and could hold very basic conversations – but this seemed to be far more than that. But once again, the tan rabbit gave no indication that it understood Zag’s question and so, did not answer.
Zag had spent several nights wondering what she should do – all the while, the tan rabbit either ate or leapt around the base of the tree that Zag had taken up refuge in. Zag finally decided she would go. Packing what few belongings she had, she considered saying farewell to her family and tribe, but truth be told, she rarely paid them a visit. They probably didn’t even realize she hadn’t been around for weeks.
One week into her journey, Zag was pondering if she’d had made a mistake. While crossing through the Greypeak Mountains, a violent and sudden storm darkened the skies. Torrential rain began to pour down causing the path to become slippery. Zag took shelter in a small cave she’d found, but the booming thunder drove her further back into the cave, where she noticed a small opening. She began crawling through it – and eventually came to an area where she heard voices. She peered and saw several – what appeared to be other rangers – and others, dressed in ceremonial robes. One of the humans in robes looked up, staring directly at where Zag had perched herself and said, “We’re not alone. Come down little one.”
Zag’s first instinct was to run – but something in the human’s voice seemed soothing and calm.
“My name is Kallaren,” the human said as Zag reached the bottom. “What brought you here?”
“I was seeking shelter from the storm,” Zag answered truthfully. The Rangers seemed to exchange nervous glances, but the human in robes seemed to calm them down.
“We can’t trust her,” one of the human rangers shouted. “She’s a goblin.”
Kallaren turned to her. “Can we trust you?”
“Yes,” Zag answered. “I am a goblin, but I am a Dankwood Goblin. We’re much different than our cousins, which you’re probably used to seeing.”
“What is your name, little one?” the human asked.
“Zag,” she answered, as she pulled nervously at her leathers.
“Zag, I don’t believe you came here by accident,” the human said. “I believe the gods may have led you here. You see, there is a mad wizard, who has made a home for himself near Waterdeep. He’s grown quite powerful – and he needs to be stopped. Any one of us,” he gestured around him, to the other Monks and Rangers, “would easily be spotted in this wizard’s domain. But he has surrounded him with the likes of your kind and others like you. You may be exactly what’s needed.”
“I was headed to Waterdeep,” Zag confessed. “I’d heard about this dungeon of great treasure.”
“Well, then our goals are aligned,” the human smiled. “Seek allies there. Find the wizard, and put a stop to him. Allow me to bestow this gift to you to help.” (2)
The rest of Zag’s journey was uneventful as she finally reached Waterdeep. Just as the Monk had said, inside the Broken Jaw Bar, she met a Tortle Cleric who had already befriended a gnome, who said they were somewhat familiar with the location of the dungeon.Need a character origin written? Enjoyed what I wrote? How can you help me? Not required, but appreciated! <3
Check out my 5e The Secret of Havenfall Manor or my character back stories over at DMsGuild.com! (If you check it out - please rate, comment, and tell others!)
Subscribe to my D&D Channel on Youtube! (Come by and Sub)
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2021-01-06, 12:10 AM (ISO 8601)Barbarian in the Playground
- Join Date
- Sep 2016
- Location
- Wisconsin
- Gender
Re: Need a character background written up?
Tawmis, I hope you and your wife are well.
I want to play a bear. A walking, talking bear (with opposable thumbs) in a world where walking, talking bears don't exist. In truth, it's not likely that I'll play this character, but it could end up as an NPC. On the other hand, if it's a good enough story... ;-) I've been enjoying your stories a lot, and thought it would be fun to see what you came up with for this concept.
Other details... male, brown. Low INT, higher WIS, fightery type. That's all I've got! I hope you enjoy the wide-open ones.
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