Need a character background written up?

[Barebarian]

The honor is mine for allowing me to walk with Autumn through her life.
And just for reference:
Meiyo = Honorable
Utsukushi-sa = Beauty (or Beautiful)
Senshi = Warrior
Seiiki = Sanctuary

I figured since Rogue and Monk were your low levels - the Rogue stuff is learned on the streets and the Monk stuff is a mixture between what Senshi's concubines show her and the Monks who give her shelter in Seeiki. The Bard, obviously comes from your mother's teachings, where you have the most exposure.

And the Red Phoenix Order...

Naturally, the one who runs it is actually your real father (in my head)... so now he's come looking for his daughter... but why? Is it to simply kill her? Or is there another purpose? This is what I left open - but you and your DM could definitely take it where ever you wanted to go with it. :)

Thanks for listing the meanings! I actually already knew what Senshi meant, and because of it I'm gonna have difficulty not thinking of his other concubines as sailor scouts

I was imagining at least some of the rogue stuff being learned from the other concubines, what with Chinese harems being historically rather cutthroat places in many ways, but I REALLY like how you made Lily's experience in Senshi's harem a really happy one, because I was just thinking about how having a character eagerly leaving their old life behind is a bit too, convenient for an adventurer? And that having her WANT to get back to her friends and home and Senshi and to have his kids is a really sweet and adorable character motivation. Speaking of which, thank you SO much for making Senshi come across as such a sweetie [and lowkey a Daddy ngl ] because I ABSOLUTELY ship him with Lily now and hope that he sweeps her off her feet in a dashing rescue later in the story. I also like the touch of the concubines teaching her the monk skills to help her in bed with Senshi, cause I headcanon him as a high level warrior with a BIG Con score, so I'm gonna be giving Lily Acrobatics Expertise and assume the other wives must have taken it as well

I LOVE the whole hook of the order The mum's death was legitimately sad [or maybe she didn't die? Maybe she's a prisoner! ].
Overall 11/10! I'm so excited to play Lily!

[Tawmis]

Thanks for listing the meanings! I actually already knew what Senshi meant, and because of it I'm gonna have difficulty not thinking of his other concubines as sailor scouts

Because you had wanted a Japanese/Chinese theme - I wasn't sure if you already knew the words (or perhaps Japanese or Chinese yourself, and looking to play something closer to your own culture! You can never tell on forums!) :)

But just in case you hadn't - I figured I'd post what the words meant! (A lot of people - I mean a LOT of people are also into Anime and may know some of these words just because of their vast interest in Anime, and learned several Japanese words that way!)

I was imagining at least some of the rogue stuff being learned from the other concubines, what with Chinese harems being historically rather cutthroat places in many ways, but I REALLY like how you made Lily's experience in Senshi's harem a really happy one, because I was just thinking about how having a character eagerly leaving their old life behind is a bit too, convenient for an adventurer?

The reason I wrote it as a joyous one was because of this...

And that having her WANT to get back to her friends and home and Senshi and to have his kids is a really sweet and adorable character motivation.

I hint that there are those who take on concubines and do abuse them; but I thought it was key to give your character a good life (and that would be a reason she'd want a baby... otherwise, there'd be no desire to have a child with someone who was cruel). So that would mean making the other concubines she was surrounded by also, kind - because these men were taking care of them, so there was no need for them to be cutthroat. They had a good life, despite being "lower class" than the wives of these men... they were treated well... and besides, a character who has a good life and is forcibly yanked from it makes for a great character turn in their origin... something to want to one day go back to if they can...

Speaking of which, thank you SO much for making Senshi come across as such a sweetie [and lowkey a Daddy ngl ] because I ABSOLUTELY ship him with Lily now and hope that he sweeps her off her feet in a dashing rescue later in the story. I also like the touch of the concubines teaching her the monk skills to help her in bed with Senshi, cause I headcanon him as a high level warrior with a BIG Con score, so I'm gonna be giving Lily Acrobatics Expertise and assume the other wives must have taken it as well

Well his name literally translates from "Warrior" so I'd say it's safe to say he has a pretty high CON score.
It'd be amazing if your DM does indeed implement these things into their game...

I LOVE the whole hook of the order The mum's death was legitimately sad [or maybe she didn't die? Maybe she's a prisoner! ].
Overall 11/10! I'm so excited to play Lily!

Thank you! <3

[yellowrocket]

Wow. Just Wow. I watch as tale after tale becomes woven together. Like passes on a loom. As your, yes YOUR world takes shape. The people that inhabit it seem to take a deeper reality as each is linked in story to another.

I tend to read a lot more entry style stories. So piecing each of these people in to a place and time isn't hard for me as each is given a background from their player, but the story is from you. Man, if you ever get the itch to publish on a site like spacebattles or anything else, please let us know. I love you style. I feel like you're so close to being able to put some or all of these compelling characters with active ongoing stories out in to a world and the story would flow from you. Even as short stories just glimpses of their world.

[Barebarian]

Wow. Just Wow. I watch as tale after tale becomes woven together. Like passes on a loom. As your, yes YOUR world takes shape. The people that inhabit it seem to take a deeper reality as each is linked in story to another.

I tend to read a lot more entry style stories. So piecing each of these people in to a place and time isn't hard for me as each is given a background from their player, but the story is from you. Man, if you ever get the itch to publish on a site like spacebattles or anything else, please let us know. I love you style. I feel like you're so close to being able to put some or all of these compelling characters with active ongoing stories out in to a world and the story would flow from you. Even as short stories just glimpses of their world.

This! ^^^ And just in case you do, I hereby give you TOTAL permission to use any of my characters you may ever write up, including Lily.

[Tawmis]

Wow. Just Wow. I watch as tale after tale becomes woven together. Like passes on a loom. As your, yes YOUR world takes shape. The people that inhabit it seem to take a deeper reality as each is linked in story to another.

I tend to read a lot more entry style stories. So piecing each of these people in to a place and time isn't hard for me as each is given a background from their player, but the story is from you. Man, if you ever get the itch to publish on a site like spacebattles or anything else, please let us know. I love you style. I feel like you're so close to being able to put some or all of these compelling characters with active ongoing stories out in to a world and the story would flow from you. Even as short stories just glimpses of their world.

You! You stop that! You got my eyes shimmering, as I sit here in my home office, with only the light of the screen illuminating my face.
I've posted some of my writing in other places (I wrote a 30 page story - never finished - based on my character from the Dragon Age: Origins game, doing the same thing I do here - giving myself an hour to write each section when I touched it... same thing for the character in my Legends of Grimrock game...)... both of which got a comments, but too much. I've written other "fan fiction" stories also (for ElfQuest, for example).

I've been on these forums since... 2004, I believe... long time. And never did any writing stuff here. Because I started DMing for some folks who have NEVER played D&D - they all asked me to write their backgrounds, which I loved doing. (Most of the folks I game with have asked me to write their backgrounds, knowing that writing is my passion). So someone on here, had a character concept looking for some ideas - and rather than giving just ideas - I wrote an entire background for them. And they were extremely thankful. I ran into a few more threads, and did something similar (mentioned in the first post of this thread) and finally thought, "Why don't I offer to write people's character backgrounds? It helps them, and because it's always something different, it helps challenge my creative writing!")

Honestly, I expected maybe one or two people to submit something to me...

I never expected the level of people - not only submitting to me - but ENJOYING what I am doing. That's... so utterly flattering.

I've enjoyed using "repeating" characters (Bar'garius, the demon; the Red Eye Orcs, etc) - and no matter what world they exist in (some of these are for campaigns in Forgotten Realms, some in Greyhawk, I assume based on the deity they were using) - it does all shape in my own "plane of existence" - especially when I directly tied two different character backgrounds together (that was just me pushing myself to be even more creative).

But honestly, it's feedback like yours that pushes me on to keep doing this. It means SO freaking much to me (sorry to be sentimental here!) to know people can enjoy my creations that spin out of other people's characters. I feel like I am walking in their character's shoes and exploring the world... I am the bard that travels with them, and documents their stories to be told. But the feedback - like yours - really is the song that my soul loves hearing.

This! ^^^ And just in case you do, I hereby give you TOTAL permission to use any of my characters you may ever write up, including Lily.

I will keep that in mind. <3

[Cyclops08]

Tawmis, I played with your write up and this is how it turned out. I would love any feedback you or the others can give.
------------------------------------------------------------
Barovia

Two hundred years ago, under the cover of darkness, Nev Van’shir, an ancient vampire and servant to Strahd Von Zarovich, murdered thirty Paladins devoted to Eldath.

Nev Van’shir used a weapon called Bloodthirst which was directly connected to Strahd Von Zarovich. The sentient blade was designed to feed it’s master. Whether it landed the killing blow or merely drew blood, it fed the life energies into the master vampire, strengthening the very land of Barovia itself.

Knowing that Nev Van’shir would be attacking the next town – the Paladins of Eldath prepared themselves and ambushed Nev Van’shir. Gravely wounded, the vampire was forced to flee. However, in his attempt to escape, Bloodthirst fell into the darkness of the night - lost forever. The blade without a master sought desperately to fulfill its purpose.

That was two hundred years ago. The battle between darkness and light continues.
-------------------------------------------------------
Faerun.

Vandal was born into the Waterdhavian noble house of Whiteraven. Vandal grew up with all of the benefits of wealth, including good schooling, and a stable home. He was however a prodigal, squandering everything in orgy of self-indulgence.

Ashamed by his behavior his father confronted him. “You soil our name the way you soil your trousers, you drunkard fool. Your behavior has wrought shame to our family name.”

“What good is wealth if one does not enjoy it?” Vandal asked, taking another deep drink from the bottle in his hand. “If we die without spending that which we have who will take it? It is better to live a life of fulfilment.”

“This,” his father gestured, “is not fulfilment. This is how a commoner’s pig would live. And you will not live like this any longer. Not here.”

“What are you going to do? Cast me out? Your only son?” Vandal chuckled drunkenly.

Vandal next found himself standing outside the manor’s gate with no way back in. The true tragedy of the moment struck him: he would need to get… a job.

Too many knew the Whiteravens, and thus, Vandal’s reputation. Changing his last name to Morn, he left Waterdeep for a small nearby town. He lived well by selling his jewelry. But more often than not, he fell back into his ways of debauchery and squandered even what little wealth that brought him.

Unable to afford the protection of a caravan, Vandal was forced to walk to yet another town. The road was lonely, the trees cast dark foreboding shadows.

He saw an approaching group of people which he had mistook as gnomes initially, but as he drew closer, he realized it was a band of goblins! His heart sank as he realized he had sold off his last dagger.

He dove into the bushes just off the road and held his breath. As the goblins approached, one of them paused. “Somethin’ been here,” it growled as it pointed at the road. “Fresh tracks.”

Vandal knew that they would find him. Like a rabbit he dashed deeper into the woods, the goblins immediately pursued. He could hear their gleeful cheering mixed with hoots and callings.

He ran for seemingly forever, the goblins showed no signs of tiring, Vandal stumbled into a graveyard (Here in the wilderness?)– a misty maze of ancient tombstones. Aside from the thundering beat of his heart, the world was silent as if it held its breath.

With no other choice, he bolted across as quickly as he could, and fell directly into a freshly dug grave. Frantically he tried to climb out. If the goblins found him, it would be like spearing fish in a barrel. The wet soil prevented him from getting a solid hold. Vandal sunk to the ground realizing he would die like a pig in mud, just as his father had predicted.

He watched from the pit as the sun passed over, then the moon, then the sun again. He noticed, because there was nothing else to do, that the entire day and night, not a single sound could be heard – no birds, deer, owls – nothing.

Believing he was safe, Vandal tried to climb again, and this time as he tried to stand, his hand touched something that sent a spark of energy through his body. Looking down and saw the hilt of a blade protruding from the mud. He pulled it out – and for a brief moment – had a vision of a pale being, bathed in blood, slaying armored men.

Vandal tried to drop it – but something refused to let him go. The jet-black sword seemed to have a crackling energy about it. “Take me,” he heard the voice in his head as the blade shimmered, “and you will never be afraid again. Kill for me, let me drink the blood of those who stand against you.” The voice was soothing and calming, despite the tone of the message. “Take me up, and I will make YOU a devastating weapon!”

Vandal took the weapon, and it melded into his arm, leaving only the tattoo of a black sword.

Feeling a surge of power, Vandal leapt from the grave. Fearlessly, he entered the forest, where he heard the unmistakable chatter of goblins. Purple energies erupted from his hands. Six desperate goblins quenched the blades thirst. There was no blood left in them, not a drop, just a look of horror.

Vandal stepped onto the path. He felt like a man for the first time. He wasn’t a servant; he was a weapon. He liked that. Vandal was no longer a rake, a drunk, or a loser. Vandal was going to be a hero.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------


The Pact: Vandal made a deal with Bloodthirst, a weapon designed to strengthen Strahd and his realm. With every death (he need not cast the killing blow), blood and energy flow into the land of Barovia. Not a drop of blood will even stain the clothing of his victims. BUT. Anyone struck by either ray, spell, or sword will die with a look of horror.

Vandal is not required to commit murder. An adventurer’s life provides all the blood to suffice. Vandal is not aware he ultimately serves Strahd, just a nameless sword. Strahd is aware of the energy he receives but not who wields it (indeed there are several feeding Barovia this way). Bloodthirst is simply fulfilling its purpose: to feed Strahd. Finally, Strahd cannot issue orders through the sword. Vandal is under no compulsion to obey Strahd, even if they should meet. The undead and all who wield divine magic can be killed but do not feed Strahd.
---------------------------------------------------------
Well? What do you think? would you change anything?

[Tawmis]

___1st____
Name: Venali Zyldan (He doesn't know if his last name is really his, it is just what his mentor has given him, more on that later)
Race: Half-Elf (subrace is flexible)
Background: Urchin
Class: Paladin/Hexblade (eventual conquest)
Personality: Once someone is a friend, they are my friend for life. Not everyone deserves a second chance. Help those in need, and prevent oppression by conquering those who do others harm.
Ideals: The weak and innocent should always be protected. Only those who are strong can guard against the darkness.
Bonds: My parents left me for reasons I don't know, but if they didn't I would never have been raised to be who I am with out my mentor, I owe him my life.
Synopsis:. He grew up on the streets of a large city, and had the potential to become a Hexblade warlock once he grew up. Instead his mentor (a noble paladin) found him and begain raising him and started to take him adventuring. Their first adventure both paladins face conflict and Venali's Hexblade potential manifested. Venali leaves on his own to continue to adventure and find his parentage.

First one done (I plan to do the second one too!) Have some things to do tonight, so it might not be till Sunday... Unless the bards pull me back.
It's always interesting writing a Hexblade... as I said in someone else's background... I've never DM'ed for anyone playing a Hexblade... nor have I ever played one myself.
So I always fear I might be getting something wrong because I am not familiar with the class enough to be feel like I always get it right...
That said, I managed to write something - and had some fun with the supporting cast... and, doing one of those things where I make a reference to someone else's backstory I'd written here (the Order that the Paladin is from; as well as the bit about dogs...)
As always, please tell me if I was close to the mark... what you liked or didn't ... what fit and what didn't...
With Hexblades... I always worry!
That said - enjoy!
==========================================
I slumped against the wall, extending my arm, with my copper cup, hoping someone would offer me coin and take pity on me.

Instead a wagon rolled by, the wooden wheel hitting the puddle of mud just right so that it splashed over my hand, chest and cup. I wiped some of the specks of mud that had managed to land on my face as well and peered into the dented copper cup. It had captured a fair amount of the mud.

Such was the story of my life.

When I was five years old, my parents abandoned me here in the Southern Ward of Waterdeep. I was so young, I don’t even remember my last name – it wasn’t important, really, because in some cultures a last name means something. In the Southern Ward of Waterdeep, where the poor lived, you were lucky if someone remembered your first name, unless it was to accuse you of stealing.

A metal boot came to stand before me and I looked up and saw a man, adorned in full platemail, looking down at me. The man – a Paladin by the looks of the crest on his breastplate and shield – brought the wagon he’d been escorting (the same one that splashed mud on me) to a halt.

“Listen, I will move,” I sighed, having gotten used to Paladins and city guards patrolling the streets and “making the vermin of Southern Ward go into hiding.” I pushed against the wall and stood, placing my copper cup into my belt pouch. I pulled my hair back and tied it in a knot.

“A Half-Elf,” the Paladin commented, seeing my ears, but noting my facial hair.

The top of my hand always itched when I was nervous and this was no exception. I began itching my hand as I looked at the Paladin. I rolled my eyes, “Is there a problem with that?”

The Paladin smirked. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Venali,” I answered. “Is there a reason you’re asking me this?”

Ignoring my question, the Paladin with long, golden hair and a beard streaked with grey asked, “What’s your surname Venali?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged.

“Are you being smart with me?” the Paladin asked, raising a golden eyebrow.

“No,” I answered truthfully. “I’ve lived on the streets for thirteen years. I was abandoned by my parents at the age of five. I barely remember their faces; let alone what my surname was.”

“I believe the gods have put me in your path for a reason, Venali Zyldan,” he said, sizing me up and down.

“Zyldan?” I asked, unsure what that had meant.

“It means ‘the night without moon’,” the Paladin explained. “It’s a surname we use for those like you, who have been abandoned and do not know their true last name. My name is Jore Stormslight. And I am with the Order known as the Shield of Faith. I sense something in you. Something that needs saving.” He extended his hand to me. “Are you willing to take a chance on me, if I am willing to take a chance on you?”

I nodded my head, and took his hand. I wasn’t sure what I was in for, to be honest. But if it got me off the streets and feed for one day, I would take that chance.

He helped me onto the back of the wagon, where I saw they were escorting a shipment of weapons. The wagon pulled through the Southern Ward of Waterdeep and made its way to the Castle Ward of Waterdeep. The difference had been night and day. Here the streets were clean, people were jovial, markets lined the streets with vendors selling everything you could possibly imagine.

Jore Stormslight took me into his home, introduced me to his wife, who was a very kind woman. She immediately treated me as if I were her son. She cleared a room for me, fed me, and gave me clothes to fit me that were clean.

Jore began teaching me how to fight, how to use a sword, how to use a shield, the benefits of armor. First it was leather armor, then chainmail, and then came the platemail. He helped shape my body into muscle, once I was fed properly rather than rotting away as I had been deprived of food and water.

“Remember,” he would say, with thrusts of his sword, that I was forced to parry wearing platemail, that weighed more than I did. “Not everyone deserves a second chance,” he said. “There will be those that may betray you. But do not keep your heart so guarded that you let none inside. A true friend will be a friend for life. Someone you can count on to be next to you, in that last fight, you know you will both perish in.”

During another lesson where I was forced to learn to use a sword, while he parried my (admittedly feeble) lunges, he had instilled in me, “No matter what, help those that are in need. Help prevent anyone from being oppressed by challenging those that would harm others. There are those – much like yourself when I first met you – that are weak and innocent and need in protection. Only those who are strong, forged into weapons, can guard against the approaching darkness.”

For weeks he taught me how to fight. He built up my tolerance and constitution so that wearing platemail was still awkward to move in; I was no longer winded after taking ten steps.

“I think you’re ready to join the Order,” he smiled after months of this.

“You want me to become a Paladin?” I asked, shocked. I had thought this was all to simply teach me how to defend myself, and once I was ready he would put me back out on the streets, better prepared to live out there.

“I think the light of the god needs to fill your soul,” Jore Stormslight smiled. “Once it does, you will be one of the Shield of Faith. Who knows,” he smiled, “you might even get assigned a canine.”

“I thought the canines were only assigned to high ranking commanders,” I asked, having read up on the Order, after Jore’s wife, Bellanna Stormstrike spent all my free time, learning how to read and write. She was surprised how quickly I had picked it up. She often said it was “magic.”

“That was the way long ago,” Jore smiled, as he stroked his beard. “These days it’s the canines that select us.”

“Is it true that they’re enchanted,” I asked, curiously.

“If you believe the stories,” Jore smiled broadly.

“Do you?” I shrugged my shoulders.

“If you need to ask, then you’ve not been paying attention,” he chuckled. “Yes,” he finally said, as I stared at him blankly. “I do believe.”

We prepared our saddles and Jore kissed his wife goodbye, and I hugged Bellanna. Tears brimmed in my eyes, saying farewell to her. I’d never truly had a family – not one I remembered anyway. But Jore and Bellanna showed me nothing but the purest sense of love and family. The feeling I felt in my heart, missing her before I had even left was a sensation I’d never experienced.

The ride to the Cliffs of Judgement was one that would be a two week journey, with several stops in cities and towns along the way. It was the fifth night, as we were riding past a small forest called ‘The Shadow Wood’ where we had been ambushed by Orcs; the Red Eye Orcs; the ancient enemies of the Shield of Faith. Jore was off of his horse and fighting without a moment’s hesitation, but it’s true what they say. You can practice for weeks, but when the time comes to fight, my entire body froze. As I watched Jore fight more orcs than he could possibly win against, the top of my hand began to burn. I itched it so furiously that I drew blood and that’s when I noticed a small green pulsating crystal embedded in the top of my hand.

“I can help you,” a voice whispered inside my mind. “Accept my help and I can save you and your precious friend.”

“Yes!” I shouted.

Suddenly energy, black and vicious, swirling with purple, encased my body and flew from my hands, emitting a dark and powerful blast that struck the Red Eye Orcs, sending them reeling back. The surprise had been enough for Jore to regain his footing and slay several of them, forcing the six others to flee.

Jore wiped the blood from his eyes. “What was that?” he asked.

I looked at my hands. “I,” I stammered, “I don’t know.” I looked at Jore frightened, and I could see concern in his eyes. Is that what he had sensed in me? Is that why he said the god’s light needed to fill my soul? Had he sensed this unusual darkness in me? Is this why my family abandoned me at a young age? The itching of my hand made sense now. This thing was lurking, waiting, and whenever I was in danger it itched, as if wanting to be set free to help me. But what was it? Was it evil? Good?

I began to break down and cry as I collapsed to my knees. “I need to find out what… who I am…” I said to Jore.

He set a grim look on his face, and placed his hand on my shoulder. “I understand. Remember what I taught you. Let the Light be your guide. Come back when you’re ready. You are always welcome back home.”

Home.

I had one. And now I was going to leave it behind, abandon it, like my parents had abandoned me, and in a weird twist of fate, so that I could find the ones who abandoned me originally…

[Tawmis]

Tawmis, I played with your write up and this is how it turned out. I would love any feedback you or the others can give.

Awesome!

The blade without a master sought desperately to fulfill its purpose.

I love this line! I don't think that's mine! So that's a nice touch!

Vandal next found himself standing outside the manor’s gate with no way back in. The true tragedy of the moment struck him: he would need to get… a job.

The "he would need to get a job" made me chuckle!

He ran for seemingly forever, the goblins showed no signs of tiring, Vandal stumbled into a graveyard (Here in the wilderness?)– a misty maze of ancient tombstones. Aside from the thundering beat of his heart, the world was silent as if it held its breath.

With no other choice, he bolted across as quickly as he could, and fell directly into a freshly dug grave.

Ah! You turned it into a graveyard! (Makes sense for a Ravenloft'esque setting!) When I originally wrote it, it was a hole (because where the sword fell, it was slowly corrupting the soil, and eventually made the hole... imagine like acid slowly corroding away at something!)

But as I said, for a Ravenloft'esque type game - a graveyard works (though now I am curious about the mystery of these ancient tombs...!)
My brain and lore never stops...

Vandal took the weapon, and it melded into his arm, leaving only the tattoo of a black sword.

I like this. (This is closer, obviously to the Hexblade type... as I said, I'd never played or DM'ed for one, so Hexblades are a weakness in my writing! So I love reading how to better write them!)

Well? What do you think? would you change anything?

I dig it! I like it that you were able to build on, and change what was needed to fit for your needs!

[Cyclops08]

Yes, the grave yard is a projection of the sword. It produced a little bit of Barovia so it could snare a new servant.

The tragic job thing is a little joke of mine. I play with a crew who LOVE tragic Conan style origins. Their families are all dead, murdered by whatnots and all.

to contrast my characters all have happy families living in prosperity. But I always have a silly tragedy. Like a halfling cleric who's girlfriend ran off with a necromancer. The inner angst of a failed courtship was what drove him to a life of adventure.

[Barebarian]

I've got another request for when you've got the spare time! I'm not CERTAIN that these girls will see use but I want to flesh out the backstory of Lilly's life in the harem, I've messaged my DM and she liked the concept so much that I think she'd appreciate some characters written out for it. She had nothing but praise for your writing by the way!

Oh and by the way! When you have the time to reply to my pm, I've got some pics I'm considering for Utsukushi-sa!

Okay here goes:

Two female human warriors, one with read hair and one with white, both in their early 30s. The red haired woman is named Furea,and has 1 level of bard, 1 of fighter and 1 of monk, and the white haired woman is named Kosai, and has 2 levels of fighter and 1 of monk. Furea was a dancing girl before she was a warrior, and when she became a warrior she met Kosai, the lowest daughter of a noble family who, seeing potential in her natural strong and flexible frame, personally tutored Furea in archery, martial arts and the ways of the sword and spears. Once they were deployed, they found themselves working directly beneath Senshi in the field. As time grew on, with wartime promotions and short-staffing being what they are, they caught Senshi's eye, in more ways than one. Gradually they began serving him in increasingly...intimate, capacities, and 'working directly beneath Senshi' started having more meanings than one might think. Once the war was over, Senshi spoke to each of their families and formally made them his concubines.
This was over 12 years ago, and since then they've lived in peace, born half a dozen children each, and long ago put aside all thoughts of future violence, having found true happiness and love.
However, after a shocking night raid on the house of their master, his youngest and newest concubine was found missing! The only clue was the claim from one of the other concubines that the girls mother had burst into the harem that same night, along with some man, leaving no evidence but a blood trail.
Now, the two of them seek to find Lily, and find answers.

The problem is I don't really know why, I want them to have some sort of friendship with Lily I guess? I want them to have a really personal reason for going after her, they wouldn't WANT to normally, they're not soldiers anymore and they have kids to take care of. Maybe Senshi is worried about Lily and they wanted to make him happy again? Maybe they know what the Pheonix on her fathers chest meant? I leave it in your hands! Also I haven't given a great deal of thought to their personalities, but I do have picture inspirations for them!

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[Tawmis]

_____2nd______
Name: Tolfan Folkor
Race: Forest Gnome
Class: Wizard- Illusionist
Background: Courtier
Personality Nothing can shake my optimistic attitude. I would rather make a new friend than a new enemy. I don't pay attention to the risks in a situation. Never tell me the odds.
Ideals: Independence. I am a free spirit--no one tells me what to do. Community. We have to take care of each other, because no one else is going to do it.
Bonds: I am driven for adventure and will seek it out at all costs. Life is too short to worry about long term plans. It should be filled with as much activity as possible.
Synopsis:. Spent some time wandering, was even in the Feywild for a bit. He had to leave there because he offended some fae. He may or may not be hunted, but he will do anything to never go back into the Feywild.

Second one complete! This was kind of fun. Never DM'ed anyone through the Feywild (or had a character go through it!)
So I imagined a world, where everything is far more intense - from the colors of the world, to the people and the way they reacted.
I think I found a fun way that would have introduced Tolfan to the Feywild, and how he'd have such knowledge...
And the Satyr queen was based on this image that I found, while trying to find a way to think how a female Satyr might look.
As always, please let me know what you like or didn't like - what works, what didn't!
I welcome all feedback!
Enjoy!
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In many regards, Tolfan Folkor was like every other Forest Gnome, being inherently capable of tampering with magic by creating minor illusions. He took great pleasure in using illusions to frighten the Red Eye Orcs who frequently ventured into the Forest of Lethyr, even though the forest was also vigorously protected by Druids, Rangers, and even Treants.

Tolfan had developed a strong friendship with one of those Treants named Stonebark. Stonebark was several thousand years old and moved slowly. He had told Tolfan one of his favorite things to do was gather other Treants and constantly shift their movement, ever slowly, so that those who were not welcomed were confused by the ever moving terrain, believing the forest to be haunted.

“So you’re over a thousand cycles old,” Tolfan remarked in awe, sitting on one of Stonebark’s branches as the Treant slowly made his way through the woods. “You must have seen so many things in your lifetime.”

“Indeed,” Stonebark’s voice sounded like an old tree creaking in the wind. “I remember the Fey.”

“The Fey,” Tolfan remarked, amazed. The Fey, though some still existed throughout the world, there had been a time that the Fey ran wild throughout the world, before one day, retreating back to their realm when they found this one to be too hostile. “What was that like?” Tolfan asked.

“Chaos,” Stonebark’s wooden features slowly shaped into a smile, as he recalled the pixies, the sprites, the satyrs, and other magical creatures that had run wild through the Forest of Lethyr. “I welcomed their assistance against troublesome invaders, but their magic often created more chaos… they’re fickle and volatile.”

Several Pixies and Sprites still populated the Forest of Lethyr, but they were contained into tiny pockets of areas in the woods. Tolfan remembered the first time he encountered pixies and had managed to befriend them. They were opposed to any form of violence. Tolfan made one mistake later, and quickly learned the difference between pixies, and their fey cousins, the sprites, who were willing to commit acts of violence, if they felt threatened. Having heard, what he thought was pixies, Tolfan sprang into their area, only to be attacked by a flutter of sprites.

“What is their realm like?” Tolfan asked the ancient Treant.

“The Feywild,” Stonebark replied, “is a place of sheer chaos. As volatile as those that inhabit it, it is an echo of this world, with the land itself drenched in magic. I believe because that magic is constantly flowing in the Feywild, it creates an intoxicating effect, like when humans consume more alcohol than their body is capable of withstanding, they become intoxicated. And those intoxicated humans often become emotional, either crying for no reason, or seeking to fight someone for the smallest slight they feel has been committed against them. Now,” Stonebark smiled, “imagine those intoxicated humans were all magic casters. That, my friend, is the Feywild.”

Tolfan had taken an interest in learning to do more with his illusions and the idea of an entire land drenched in magic seemed like the ideal place to go and learn how to channel it. The Fey excelled at using illusions to toy with anyone they pleased. Perhaps one of them could teach him how to master the art of becoming an illusionist even better than his current teacher, a fellow Forest Gnome named Gorbin Doodlecast.

“How does one get to and from the Feywild?” I asked.

“There are portals in most forests,” Stonebark replied, “so that the Fey can come back and forth. Often times, the Fey who stay in this world, return to the Fey for brief stints. I don’t know if it’s to recharge their magic or perhaps just to return home and see their family… before getting sick of dealing with the madness and returning back here.”

“Is there a portal in these woods?” I asked. “I imagine there must be as I know there are pixies, sprites and even a small band of satyr that live in these woods. And with the Druids and Rangers, along with your kind, protecting it, it seems like there would be.”

“Indeed there is,” Stonebark smiled. “But I cannot tell you where it is.”

“Cannot or will not?” Tolfan asked with a coy smile.

“Both,” Stonebark said matter-of-factly.

Tolfan nodded. “I understand, my old friend.”

But Tolfan suspected he knew where the entrance was. There was a tree, much larger than any of the others in the Forest of Lethyr directly in the center of the woods. It’s where the Druids always gathered for their meetings. Tolfan suspected the tree was so large because it was a magical doorway between this world and the Feywild.

For two weeks, Tolfan packed a dinner and sat, hiding in the bushes, using his own ability to shape a minor illusion to make it appear he was one with the bushes. He patiently waited. He “attended” two of the Druid meetings by waiting and hiding, as they spoke of the rising threat of the Red Eye Orcs and possibly forming an alliance with a group of Paladins known as the Shield of Faith. Then it finally happened, several hours before sunrise, a flutter of pixies approached the tree and whispered some words of magic, and the very roots of the tree lifted up, and formed a portal inside of it. The pixies entered, and almost immediately the portal began to close behind them. Tolfan burst into a sprint and wasn’t entirely sure he was going to make it (and had to admit the idea began to cross his mind – what if only half of his body made it when the portal closed?)

With one giant leap, he pushed his way just as the portal closed on his bag of food. When he landed with a gentle thud, he looked at his hand and saw that the straps of his food bag had been severed. So, somewhere on the other side, there was a bag of food sitting next to the large tree and here he was in the Feywild, without food. Not ideal, but life was too short not to be full of adventure. This was just one more adventure that he would, ideally, somehow survive.

Stonebark was right, however. It was like a thousand needles piercing his feet, as he felt the magic rush through his body. For a moment he thought he might have bitten into a “Pixie Mushroom” because everything in the Feywild was overly vibrant in colors. Purples were so deep, with a thousand different hues swirling all at one time, the blues varied from soft to deep, dark, ocean blues. It was almost painful to see anything.

And that’s why Tolfan never saw the centaurs, with the net, who were riding up on him.

“A Forest Gnome!” he heard, just before he was ensnared with a net. The next sensation was a prick in his neck. He saw a Sprite fluttering away and knew immediately, he’d been hit with one of their arrows that tended to put… people… to… sleep…


Tolfan opened his eyes and saw he was sitting before a beautiful Satyr woman. “What business do you have in the Feywild, Forest Gnome?” she asked.

Tolfan tried to focus but the sleep effect was still beating through his blood, making it increasingly difficult to focus, despite his best efforts. She was a Satyr with hair, so red and vibrant, with a million shades of amber, burgundy, cerise, cinnamon, claret, copper, and crimson, on each strand of hair. She had a very womanly shape for her upper torso, and rather ample breasts that were barely covered and restrained by veins and leaves. Small deer-like antlers sprung from the top of her head. Her bottom torso was covered in a dress woven together by leaves, and her hooved legs were covered, down to the ankles. She was beautiful.

“I want to learn how to better master illusions to help defend the Forest of Lethyr, where I live,” he answered, though he felt his words were slurring together. “You’re beautiful,” he found himself blurting out, though he wasn’t sure why he was confessing that.

The other Fey who had gathered, let out a gasp. Tolfan looked around him and realized for the first time that there were actually others in the room. He had been so focused on her.

Eliysa Deerrunner silenced the room with one gesture. “Begone, leave us!”

Tolfan got up to leave. “Not you!” she snapped. “The others.”

Quickly, the other Fey left the chamber.

Eliysa Deerrunner approached Tolfan. “Do you truly find me beautiful, mortal?”

“I do,” he admitted. Damn that sprite poison. It was made not only to render someone unconscious, but also force them to speak the truth.

“Then I have a proposition for you,” she said, leaning very close to Tolfan’s face. “I will teach more about how to master the art of illusions, but you will be a slave for my pleasure.”

This seemed like a wonderful bargain. Learn magic and be at the “mercy” of a beautiful Fae queen’s sexual urges! “I agree!” he slurred.

While the first few days were wonderful, it became clear to Tolfan, especially after the poison had begun to wear off, what he had gotten himself into. Her thirst was insatiable. She did not regard him as a person, but rather a possession, a toy. If he could not perform, because they had just performed a short moment ago, she became extremely volatile and emotional, and, truthfully, unbearable. Her endless thirst for pleasure, Tolfan began to realize, wasn’t always so much about pleasing her, as it was torturing him through pleasure, and attempting to break him.

It was three weeks of this, until Tolfan made the bold move of making an escape. He had been locked in a room the entire three weeks, and could not leave. But when one of the Satyr’s came to deliver him food, because the Queen would need him to be “ready for tonight” he grabbed the knife from the tray and put it to the Satyr’s throat and demanded to be taken to a portal. Using an illusion he was able to disguise himself and the Satyr, who led him to a portal. The Satyr muttered the words and the portal opened, but the Satyr warned him, “The Queen will not be pleased that you escaped. She will take it as a slight that you did not love her. This slight will not go unpunished.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Tolfan said and jumped through the portal.

Unfortunately this portal was one that was not in the wood, and also seemingly hanging in the air, and Tolfan fell and landed with a loud thump into the hot desert sands below. He looked up, spitting sand out of his mouth and wondered where he had landed…

[Tawmis]

Hello again! So I have got slightly distracted from a bard (which will come later) by a wood elf druid who has got stuck in my head.
So this elf lived in a small village in a forest and was raised to be generally distrustful of non-elves, like most of his kind. Unusually, even amongst his community, he saw many spirits of the forest as a youth and was often found off by himself playing with pixies or sprites.
He joined an order of land druids to learn more about the forest, and then went deep into the heart of it in solitude. While here he underwent a change, gaining a great deal of serenity and feeling more of a connection with other races. What bought him out was a visit from an archfey that revealed a great evil that he needed to go and destroy.
Would love to see what you make of this!
Also good luck with work and travel 🙂

Hah! This was another one I was able to "tie in" with another person's background (I literally just wrote in this thread). The "Tawmis-Verse" strings continue to connect to one another!
As always, please leave feedback - good or bad, I want to hear what you liked or didn't like, what worked or didn't work!
Enjoy!
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I have lived in the Forest of Lethyr all of my life surrounded by my kind who swears the outside world is full of great evil and that no one but our own kind is to be trusted.

My name is Ellator Skyhaven and I am a Wood Elf. The Druids, along with Rangers and Treants kept the forest safe from those who would come in and seek to do harm to others, or even the land itself. Despite the suspicion my tribe – The Order of Oak - invoked upon all of their children to never trust others who are not a part of the tribe, I had managed to meet a friend forest gnome named Tolfan Folkor who then in turn, introduced me to an ancient Treant named Stonebark.

Tolfan was the one who taught me the difference between Pixies and Sprites when I was younger, when we would sit on Stonebark’s branches as he walked around the woods, patrolling them, looking for danger. The greatest threats always seemed to be the Red Eye Orcs, a clan of malicious, brutal and vicious murderers that made repeated attempts to gain entrance into the Forest of Lethyr.

One day, Tolfan disappeared. I had asked Stonebark if he had seen him and the old Treant explained that it was unusual that he’d not heard from Tolfan in over a week. When I asked the Pixies and Sprites, neither had seen him either (although the Pixies were a lot more forthcoming with information than the Sprites; the Sprites seemed pleased at the notion Tolfan was gone. I always wondered what he’d done to upset them so much?)

I knew Varus Orcslayer, one of the human rangers that patrolled the edges of Lethyr, looking for more Red Eye Orcs to send to their god. When I asked him to look for signs of Tolfan, there had been none he could find – and that was highly unusual because Varus was one of the greatest Rangers I knew.

When my parents discovered I had been meeting with Tolfan, pixies, sprites, and Varus, they were furious. They believed I would be corrupted by influences outside the Order. Despite the fact that the Order of Oak met with other Druids at the center of the woods, where a giant tree towered above the others, the Order of Oak was always leery of any advice or information given to them from others of the Druidic Order, especially human druids. Humans were too short lived, rarely weighed out the consequences of actions, whereas the Order of Oak were all Wood Elves, who lived long lives, thought things through and did not brashly run into dangerous situations without heavy consideration from every angle. This often put them at odds, with the human druids claiming that all this waiting would come back on us for taking too long to take action.

One night, I sat at the center of the forest, in front of the great tree, by myself. I was a Wood Elf, raised to not trust anyone by the Order of Oak, but at the same time, I had met others outside the Order who had treated me with compassion, love and friendship. I felt as if I was being torn in half by what the Order expected out of me and what my heart wanted from me.

I crossed my legs as I sat in front of the great tree, closed my eyes, rested my hands on my legs and sought guidance. The sounds of the forest filled my ears, and the scents of every flower and leaf seemed to enter my nose. I could taste the fresh water on my tongue and my skin tingled with magic.

That’s when a portal opened and one of the Fey stepped through.

“Good,” the Satyr said, “a mortal. Listen to me. The Red Eye Orcs seek to gain entrance to the woods, because they have a powerful Warlock leader name Oragin Doomhammer who seeks to gain entrance into the Feywild, and open a portal and siphon the magic from it and into himself. He’s found an ancient relic which will allow him to do this. He is not near Lethyr yet, but he is coming… and if he accomplishes this, he will be able to bring Gruumsh into the world. I need not tell you what that would do. Go forward, find allies, and stop Oragin at any cost.”

“But my family,” I began.

“They will be dead if Oragin accomplishes his mission,” the Satyr said.

That night, I returned home, gathered what few belongings I had, and did not take the time to tell my mother, father and two sisters goodbye, because they would have tried to stop me. I know they would have. But when I find others that can help me put an end to Oragin, I will come home, and ask them to forgive me.

[Barebarian]

These are both. SO. GOOD! I especially enjoy the first one for actually making me find the feywild interesting!

[Rakoa]

I have not had the chance to read through any of these yet, but this is a very cool idea and a great service to provide.

However, I recommend that you do that thing where you give the links in your opening post a small description or summary of the backstory contained within, rather than leaving it as a solid and imposing wall of meaningless text. It'll make it easier for people to pick out the ones that might interest them, and then find them later.

[Tawmis]

I've got another request for when you've got the spare time! I'm not CERTAIN that these girls will see use but I want to flesh out the backstory of Lilly's life in the harem, I've messaged my DM and she liked the concept so much that I think she'd appreciate some characters written out for it. She had nothing but praise for your writing by the way!
Oh and by the way! When you have the time to reply to my pm, I've got some pics I'm considering for Utsukushi-sa!
Okay here goes:
Two female human warriors, one with read hair and one with white, both in their early 30s. The red haired woman is named Furea,and has 1 level of bard, 1 of fighter and 1 of monk, and the white haired woman is named Kosai, and has 2 levels of fighter and 1 of monk. Furea was a dancing girl before she was a warrior, and when she became a warrior she met Kosai, the lowest daughter of a noble family who, seeing potential in her natural strong and flexible frame, personally tutored Furea in archery, martial arts and the ways of the sword and spears. Once they were deployed, they found themselves working directly beneath Senshi in the field. As time grew on, with wartime promotions and short-staffing being what they are, they caught Senshi's eye, in more ways than one. Gradually they began serving him in increasingly...intimate, capacities, and 'working directly beneath Senshi' started having more meanings than one might think. Once the war was over, Senshi spoke to each of their families and formally made them his concubines.
This was over 12 years ago, and since then they've lived in peace, born half a dozen children each, and long ago put aside all thoughts of future violence, having found true happiness and love.
However, after a shocking night raid on the house of their master, his youngest and newest concubine was found missing! The only clue was the claim from one of the other concubines that the girls mother had burst into the harem that same night, along with some man, leaving no evidence but a blood trail.
Now, the two of them seek to find Lily, and find answers.
The problem is I don't really know why, I want them to have some sort of friendship with Lily I guess? I want them to have a really personal reason for going after her, they wouldn't WANT to normally, they're not soldiers anymore and they have kids to take care of. Maybe Senshi is worried about Lily and they wanted to make him happy again? Maybe they know what the Pheonix on her fathers chest meant? I leave it in your hands! Also I haven't given a great deal of thought to their personalities, but I do have picture inspirations for them!

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It's interesting writing a background for a background character's background character...? Wait. Does that make sense?
So this was kind of fun, exploring more of the culture...
I realized we know your character's name is "Autumn Lily" - and in the background that's the name she changed it to...
But we never knew her original name (since you never told me, and I never wrote it in)...
So her name makes a debut here as "Aki-Yuri" which literally translates to "Autumn Lilly"...!
Had some fun going a little more into Senshi's head/life and his acts of kindness...
And as for the reason these two leave to search for Autumn... that came in the writing of this piece...

Anyway, enjoy!
===============================================
Hailing from the small town of Dansā located on an island by the same name, the young Furea lived on the streets with no memory of who her mother was. Her earliest memories were stealing for food at the young age of five, and living in the alleyways, seeking shelter from the frequent torrential rainstorms that frequently pounded the small island.

By the age of sixteen, Furea had developed into a young woman who did whatever it took to survive. When she met an older gentleman named Tanoshima-seru (though most simply called him “Tano”), he offered her a position in his establishment called ‘Silk and Lace.’ It was an exotic dancers club for many of the men of Dansā who went there seeking company for a night. Furea accepted the position, but it was not for exotic dancing, rather to clean the dishes and collect the plates from tables as the men watched the dancers. This exposed Furea to the worse in men, who often slapped her on her end, or pinched her, giving her knowing winks. But working her gave her a place to stay upstairs when the club closed for the night. There was no bed, but it was a room with four walls and a roof over it. She slept on the wooden floor when she could, trying to shut out the sounds of the dancers that accepted money for a night’s company. But the ladies who danced were not all bad; when the nights were slow, or after the establishment had closed up, they would teach her how to dance and move her body in exotic manners, with the notion that she would one day become a dancer herself here.

Each of them had the same story, that Tanoshima-seru found them on the streets, offered them a place to stay. Then would say they were indebted to him and that they would need to work off their debt by dancing and earning money through those dancing; and quicker still if they sold their bodies for an evening to willing men.

A young man had caught Furea’s attention one night, and when their eyes locked, it was clear that he was looking at her. He approached her and introduced himself as Kyūseishu. He was tall, slender, five o’clock stubble with a perfect tone. When Kyūseishu had asked her out, Tanoshima-seru approached and explained that Furea had been living “rent free” in his establishment and it would cost Kyūseishu greatly to take her. Furea was taken aback as she had thought that the work she had done was paying for the rent of the bare room which she had been staying in, but honor bound to not speak up against her “gracious” host, she kept silent. Kyūseishu accepted this and explained he would travel north and get the “Gem of the Spider Queen.”

The small town of Dansā sat on the southern point of the island. It was said, to the north, a large temple now reclaimed by the dense jungle was the home of a Jorogumo. The Jorogumo were spiders that, after four hundred years would weave themselves into their own webs and emerge as a beautiful woman. The women would then seek out males to court and lure them back to their temple, only to devour them and lay eggs inside the corpses of the men, for their spiderlings to eat.

Two weeks later and Kyūseishu never returned and Furea assumed that he had fallen victim to the Jorogumo of the north. On the third week, to the exact day and moment, a massive earthquake off the shore rattled the entire island. Without warning the beach waters suddenly receded deep into the ocean and a massive tsunami washed over Dansā and erased it from existence.

Furea awoke, clinging to a board, her last memory the voices of the dancers screaming as the Silk and Lace building was crushed as easily as one might step on an ant. She looked around her and all she could see was open ocean in every direction. In some area, the shattered remains of Dansā floated around her, including corpses, which to her dismay were being fed on by sharks. She climbed on top of the board she had been clinging to and waited to die.

To her surprise, on the second day, voices could be heard. She opened her eyes and saw a large merchant ship approaching. She sat up on the board and flailed her hands, her voice already too far gone to yell for help. Through some miracle the crew aboard the Suncutter saw her and managed to rescue her.

Onboard the ship, she was tended to many, but one by the name of Kosai checked on her the most frequently. As Furea was nursed back to health, she learned that Kosai, with her long, flowing hair, womanly figure, and ample chest, all of which reminded Furea of the exotic dancers, was actually the lowest daughter of a nearby noble company. Senshi, a noble and great warrior of the country called Tengoku, had called on the noble families to send him their women to help farm and their sons to help fight in the war against the Order of the Red Phoenix. Kosai was to work the farms until the war was over, and then, perhaps she could return home.

On the ship, once Furea had regained her strength, Kosai could see that she had a strong and shapely body. Kosai, already familiar in the ways of fighting, but forbidden to do so, because she was a woman began to teach Furea the basics of self-defense and sword use. When the ship arrived at Tengoku, each of them was brought to Senshi’s farmlands, which was enormous. He was kind enough to share his food and his workers with others so that no one, especially the families of warriors who were fighting the Order of the Red Phoenix would go hungry. They paid Kosai’s family additional coin for the use of Furea, who Kosai had introduced as “her little cousin.”

It was three years of working in the fields, and despite the manual labor, Senshi’s people were kind to them all, providing them all furnished rooms, elegant baths, all of which were new to Furea. When the battles had subsided, and it seemed the Order of the Red Phoenix, Senshi returned home. As agreed, each would be allowed to return home, but so honorable and kind was Senshi that he stood at the docking port and greeted and thanked each of the one thousand people he had employed. However, Kosai (and to some degree, Furea) caught his eye. He stopped them and asked if they had enjoyed their time here. Both had agreed (especially Furea who had never known such an elaborate life). Kosai was ready to return home, but Furea had no home, so she accepted Senshi’s offer to “stay longer.” Kosai could not let her “little cousin” remain behind, so she too agreed.

Both of them had become concubines for Senshi, who, if he was known for treating his workers kindly, treated his mistresses as if they were goddesses. Although it was not love that had drawn them to remain, it had developed as stronger emotions the more time he spent with them. This was their lives for twelve years, and several children later. One day, Aki-Yuri was introduced to them as another, much younger concubine. She was the sole daughter of Utsukushi-sa. Utsukushi-sa was a concubine of Senshi’s best friend, Meiyo and Aki-Yuri (though she just typically went by Aki or Yuri) was now old enough to become a concubine. Senshi had taken a liking to her beauty and both Furea and Kosai could see why. The beauty of Senshi was that he treated all of his women equally, each was specialized in their own ways, and each had something Senshi was looking for in them.

The three of them formed a strong friendship often exploring one another’s bodies just as much as they explored Senshi’s. Furea, as a dancer taught Aki the ability to use her body to please Senshi, while Kosai taught Aki how to improve her endurance as well as defend herself if the time ever came.

The day had finally come when Aki-Yuri’s mother burst into Senshi’s house covered in blood, screaming for her. When Aki-Yuri ran to her mother she was both relieved and horrified that the blood all over her mother was not her own. Her mother only repeated, “You must run. You must leave. Hide. Never come back! Do not let him find you!”

There were sounds coming from behind her – and then a man, adorned in Samurai armor, with a Red Phoenix symbol adorned on his chest kicked down the door. Aki-Yuri’s mother looked at him, then over to her, and whispered, “Forgive me.” And with one violent shove, pushed her out the window where she fell two stories into the bushes.

Kosai had run up to the man to try and fight him but he shoved her aside and charged up the stairs and ran his blade through Utsukushi-sa. The woman shouted, “Run!” through the window as the man in the armor yelled, “Where is my daughter?”

The man, seeing the broken window knew it must have been his daughter that went through the window and began charging down the stairs. Kosai rushed to Utsukushi-sa’s side, where the woman smiled at her and said, “Please… keep my daughter safe…”

Kosai looked at Furea as the woman breathed her last breath. There were sounds of more fighting as Kosai and Furea made their way down the stairs. It was just not the single man in the Order of the Red Phoenix armor, there were others and Senshi and his guards were fighting them.

“Are we just going to leave him?” Furea asked, somewhat frightened.

“A woman died asking us to keep her daughter safe,” Kosai said, drawing her katana. “We will honor her wish by finding Aki-Yuri and keeping her safe from the Order of the Red Phoenix…”

[Barebarian]

I LOVE LOVE LOVE this! I really love how you wove it all together, and managed to slide a good chunk of worldbuilding in there! I really like how you made them Lily's mentors!

[Tawmis]

These are both. SO. GOOD! I especially enjoy the first one for actually making me find the feywild interesting!

Why do I suspect it's the Fey Queen who peaks your interest?

I have not had the chance to read through any of these yet, but this is a very cool idea and a great service to provide.
However, I recommend that you do that thing where you give the links in your opening post a small description or summary of the backstory contained within, rather than leaving it as a solid and imposing wall of meaningless text. It'll make it easier for people to pick out the ones that might interest them, and then find them later.

That's an amazing idea! Done now!
As I said elsewhere in this thread - I never ever expected this to take off. I honestly thought I'd get three, maybe four takers. I am so utterly honored by the amount of interest, and the genuine responses to these backgrounds! So the links now have teaser descriptions! Thanks for the idea!

I LOVE LOVE LOVE this! I really love how you wove it all together, and managed to slide a good chunk of worldbuilding in there! I really like how you made them Lily's mentors!

It made sense that they would be her mentors having been there longer... and also that Autumn was younger (and inexperienced). That's also why I alluded that the other two "explored" each other's bodies, to teach Autumn "the ways of the bedroom."

[Barebarian]

I think that that particular education is one Senshi would insist on handling personally Though on the other hand, every good instructor needs assistants, to help with demonstrations

[Jaryn]

...we would sit on Stonebark’s branches as he walked around the woods, patrolling them, looking for danger.

This sounds like a fun childhood, riding around with a treant!

I crossed my legs as I sat in front of the great tree, closed my eyes, rested my hands on my legs and sought guidance. The sounds of the forest filled my ears, and the scents of every flower and leaf seemed to enter my nose. I could taste the fresh water on my tongue and my skin tingled with magic.

I particularly like the sensory description in this bit.

Another great episode in the Tawmis-verse! I love the way you tied it into Tolfan's background, and it feels like the Forest of Lethyr is alive. Brilliant, thank you 😀

[Tawmis]

This sounds like a fun childhood, riding around with a treant!
I particularly like the sensory description in this bit.
Another great episode in the Tawmis-verse! I love the way you tied it into Tolfan's background, and it feels like the Forest of Lethyr is alive. Brilliant, thank you 😀

It donned on me today, it would probably be like that scene in Lord of the Rings, where Merry and Pippin are on the Ent walking around.

And it was fun to be able to tie this to another background, and make it so quite a few people's characters are loosely tied together in the same world (Forgotten Realms, in this case).

[Great Dragon]

Greetings!
I might have one for ya; I’m curious as to what you would do.

I have an NPC that am I leaving open to become a PC for my gaming group. No class yet.
Here is what I’ve got, feel free to change anything except Race and Gender.

Setting the Scene: LMoP. Conyberry village, north of Wyvern Tor.

Dydrun Reltat Hobgoblin (male) LE
Background: Soldier
Flaw: Trusting of Higher Authority.

Str 13 Dex 12 Con 12 Int 10 Wis 10 Cha 09

IC “I still have vivid dreams of that day. The 2 hour march into the Abandoned Village was nothing.

Lieutenant Halbid had the 20 of us set up camp in the most intact Hut, where we would rest while waiting for nightfall. Two of us (I never did get their names) were assigned Patrol Duty, and we relaxed. Less than an hour later an attack came from the least expected direction:

The west wall was breached by the largest male Half-Orc I have ever seen! Nearly seven feet tall, and wearing Full Plate better than what our Warlord has! Taking four strides into the room he speaks a Spell Command Phrase and a wave of sound blasts forth from him, knocking four of the others against the far wall, where they can barely stand from their wounds.

Us grunts do our best against the wave of Ten Intruders, but Halbid takes poison to escape capture, and I am the only one left. After a brief Interview (and a broken finger) I tell them all I know. But, instead of killing me, as I had expected, they instead offer me a position within their own paramilitary organization. Not seeing any kind welcome back at the Fortification, I agree.

My only fear is that KuntarSpell finds out my location with his far seeing magical Eye….”

OoC: Dydrun is now the House Guard of The Bleeding Hearts Hero Guild, based in the mansion just East of Phandalin.

Spoiler: Info

Show

The New Hobgoblin Warlord Gurkak Bonebreaker #5, has successfully constructed within 3 days (with the Master Mage Ithek “KuntarSpell” (Hobgoblin M) and some of his higher Students casting multiple Wall of Stone spells) a new Stone Fortification named "Krud Keep" about two miles away from Tor itself. This Outpost is a bold move on Gurkak’s part, and Ithek is looking forward to being able to expand his spellbook with the easy access to the nearby (former) trade route. These Hobgoblins are a close knit group, and (mostly) trust each other.

If it make/s anyone feel any better - there is a Hobgoblin Kingdom i(Empire) in the Underdark: that I have yet to sit down and work on....

Normally, I put Player shenanigans in my Ancient Realms thread located in World Building.

[Tawmis]

Greetings!
I might have one for ya; I’m curious as to what you would do.
I have an NPC that am I leaving open to become a PC for my gaming group. No class yet.
Here is what I’ve got, feel free to change anything except Race and Gender.
Setting the Scene: LMoP. Conyberry village, north of Wyvern Tor.

Dydrun Reltat Hobgoblin (male) LE
Background: Soldier
Flaw: Trusting of Higher Authority.

Str 13 Dex 12 Con 12 Int 10 Wis 10 Cha 09
IC “I still have vivid dreams of that day. The 2 hour march into the Abandoned Village was nothing.

Lieutenant Halbid had the 20 of us set up camp in the most intact Hut, where were would rest while waiting for nightfall. Two of us (I never did get their names) were assigned Patrol Duty, and we relaxed. Less than an hour later an attack came from the least expected direction:

The west wall was breached by the largest male Half-Orc I have ever seen! Nearly seven feet tall, and wearing Full Plate better than what our Warlord has! Taking four strides into the room he speaks a Spell Command Phrase and a wave of sound blasts forth from him, knocking four of the others against the far wall, where they can barely stand from their wounds.

Us grunts do our best against the wave of Ten Intruders, but Halbid takes poison to escape capture, and I am the only one left. After a brief Interview (and a broken finger) I tell them all I know. But, instead of killing me, as I had expected, they instead offer me a position within their own paramilitary organization. Not seeing any kind welcome back at the Fortification, I agree.

My only fear is that KuntarSpell finds out my location with his far seeing magical Eye….”

OoC: Dydrun is now the House Guard of The Bleeding Hearts Hero Guild, based in the mansion just East of Phandalin.

Spoiler: Info

Show

The New Hobgoblin Warlord Gurkak Bonebreaker #5, has successfully constructed within 3 days (with the Master Mage Ithek “KuntarSpell” (Hobgoblin M) and some of his higher Students casting multiple Wall of Stone spells) a new Stone Fortification named "Krud Keep" about two miles away from Tor itself. This Outpost is a bold move on Gurkak’s part, and Ithek is looking forward to being able to expand his spellbook with the easy access to the nearby (former) trade route. These Hobgoblins are a close knit group, and (mostly) trust each other.

If it make/s anyone feel any better - there is a Hobgoblin Kingdom i(Empire) in the Underdark: that I have yet to sit down and work on....

Normally, I put Player shenanigans in my Ancient Realms thread located in World Building.

I dug deep as to why this Hobgoblin would "betray" his people... And realized it had to go back...
Back to something that would have impacted him... changed his view... You still have him as Lawful Evil...
But have him leaving the Hobgoblins and joining others...
So I sort of left the idea in there that there's still "Hobgoblin" to him and his intentions...
Please leave feedback! I thrive on it!
Enjoy!
==================================

I scarcely remember much of my childhood; there’s only tiny pieces of it that I can recall. Sometimes there are things I see, or even hear, that might trigger a forgotten memory.

My family, my tribe, we were always moving. Always on the march. My father was a soldier of The Black Tide, an army of Hobgoblins organized under Darauk Warcutter. Darauk’s true surname had been Dornthyme, but Hobgoblin culture, when you take leadership and have proven yourself, you adopt your own title that becomes your new surname.

Darauk had enslaved several goblins to be his whipping boys, and the grunt force to fetch him things, clean the camps, and scout ahead. A goblin lost to a trap was nowhere near as vital as losing one of his own trusted soldiers. Darauk had also managed to gain two Bugbears as bodyguards, after helping them fight several would-be adventurers.

Darauk took every opportunity to flex his might and his will upon those around him, and with his Bugbear bodyguards, Ou’rius and Ka’larm, few dared oppose him. Darauk also enjoyed torture to the extreme, such as female prisoners that they captured, of any race, were taken to please Darauk in his tent. Most did not leave alive. They were the lucky ones. Those he let go, had a vacant stare in their eyes, as if their soul had left their body, and their mind had not yet realized that they were already dead.

Most saw his actions as dishonorable, both to his name, the army, and even Hobgoblins as a whole. Those who silently questioned him wondered how Maglubiyet, our god of war and rulership, could let such things go for so long, and wondered if he was fighting with Nomog-Geaya, the god of war and authority, somewhere in the heavens.

The dishonor Darauk had brought to us all finally caught up to him when he was found one morning with white foam around his mouth and nose. Another Hobgoblin, Uirentar Poelar took ownership for the action, and he was killed for killing Darauk in such a dishonorable way. All Hobgoblins kept poison with them; in the event we were captured we could take the poison and ascend to the gods, rather than betray our kind to the enemy. Krukar Vornkal demanded that he become the next ruler, but Kukar was so loyal to Darauk that we all knew we would see the same thing happen. My father had then stepped up and challenged Krukar for the sake of the people.

Krukar was lower in command in the Black Tide, where as my father had been an Officer, and very aware of Krukar’s drunken debauchery and behavior. My father, far more skilled at the blade, than Krukar’s desperate lunges, allowed my father to sidestep and inflict what most would consider non-lethal damage. My father did not want to kill Krukar, he only sought to defeat him battle. However, the more my father did this, the more furious Krukar became. In the end, my father was forced to decapitate Krukar when he would not accept my father’s multiple offers to surrender.

My father taught The Black Tide to be respectful, even to other races. When he would ambush a caravan, he would demand gold from the men and women, but demanded his soldiers to never touch or harm a woman or child, unless they became hostile first. The goblins were still foot soldiers, but they were not sent to the deaths for his amusement, as Darauk had often done. My father even forced Ou’rius and Ka’larm, Darauk’s former bodyguards to do most of the heavy lifting, when the warband would move, and if he ever caught them abusing anyone – including the goblins – he whipped them. They got caught about sixteen times, before they learned their lesson, their backs furless from the scar tissue that marked them for their foolishness.

My father led the Black Tide for thirteen long years, longer than most lived in the status of leadership. By this time, I had become one of my father’s soldiers, but he showed me no favoritism. As a new soldier I marched and charged in the front lines, until I survived a few of the battles we had engaged in against orcs that patrolled the areas, and eventually worked my way up the ranks.

Naturally, the day came when my own father’s time came to an end. Our Clan crossed paths with a Hobgoblin Warlord name Gurkak Bonebreaker. During the honorable meeting, Gurkak extended his hand to take my father’s and as he did so he stabbed my father with his other hand using a pearl dagger. And like that, our clan fell under his control.

One of his most trusted men, Lieutenant Halbid, took over the division I was a part of. I had no love for Gurkak, nor Halbid, as all I could see was the cowardly way Gurkak had killed my father… But Gurkak’s army was significantly larger than the Black Tide and any attempt to fight them would have resulted in lives lost. To ensure he kept control, Gurkak introduced Ithek “KuntarSpell” who was said to be a messenger of Maglubiyet himself, and displayed powers of great magic.

Gurkak and Ithek left a few days later to attend to “other matters of great importance” and left the army in charge with Urkor Dalunpor, a Hobgoblin loyal to Gurkak, who had most noticeably lost his eye in one of the battles against the orcs.

I dreamed of the day of finding a way to kill Gurkak, not only because he had killed my father, but he had done so in such a cowardly way, using his massive army to ensure no one dared confront him. But if Ithek was truly a messenger of Maglubiyet, would I be striking against my own god?

It was those thoughts I had been lost in, during a time we were scouting an area with Lieutenant Halbid, and had found an abandoned village where we had made camp for the night. My thoughts were shattered, just as the western wall had been, as a male Half-Orc, taller than I’d ever seen, adorned in full platemail began cleaving through my comrades, invoking some unknown spell that sent us all to the ground. We gathered our weapons, most of us so ill prepared we did not even have armor on, so the fight was brutal and short and Halbid had taken poison to end his own life to avoid capture. I had the poison on the tip of my tongue, but hesitated. I couldn’t see dying for Gurkak. Also if I died, I could never come back for him.

The poison was slapped away from my hand and I was captured. My hatred for Gurkak fueled me as they questioned me, I provided them with the answers they sought. I had done so, so willingly that they believed I was lying to them and broke my finger to inflict pain upon me. They pressed upon the broken bones and questioned me again, and I gave the same answers.

They believed it then. That I had been telling the truth.

They saw how I had fought, the last to stand in my battalion, and rather than kill me, offered me a position in theirs. At first I was used to translate answers from other captured prisoners, but soon I moved up the ranks, to become trusted as one of their soldiers.

There is a fear in the back of my mind, that perhaps the messenger of Maglubiyet, Ithek, might one day learn of my betrayal and seek me out. Even so, that might bring Gurkak to me and allow me to challenge him for leadership of his new army and bring peace to my people and form an alliance with my new allies.

I would be the greatest warchief my people had ever seen.

For now, for today, I am a House Guard for the Bleeding Hearts Hero Guild based in the mansion just East of Phandalin.

But I have a vision.

One I will make come true.

[Great Dragon]

This is Awesome !!!!

Note: I had left him as being LE, for two reasons: (1) Old Habits die hard. And: (2) While impressed by the Tactics of these Bleeding Hearts, especially their Eldritch Knight leader, this Hobgoblin has not really been shown how changing his World View will benefit him.

I'm mostly leaving that open for the Player that adopts him.
*******
Very well done, indeed!
Thanks! A lot!
**************
Just one minor detail:
Don't forget to proof-read.

Paragraph Eight, Third sentence:
"The goblins were still foot soldiers, but they were not sent to their deaths for his amusement, as Darauk had often done."

*****
Querry: I usually don't do very well when writing stories. While you quoted what I had written, you didn't really comment on it, except to figure out your Backstory.
What did you think?

*******
I need to work on The Hobgoblin "Emperor", and his court.....some Ideas perkulating.....

[Tawmis]

This is Awesome !!!!
Very well done, indeed!
Thanks! A lot!

Thank you!

Note: I had left him as being LE, for two reasons: (1) Old Habits die hard. And: (2) While impressed by the Tactics of these Bleeding Hearts, especially their Eldritch Knight leader, this Hobgoblin has not really been shown how changing his World View will benefit him.

That's why I wrote the end where he's thinking about becoming the greatest Warchief... I figure there's still that Hobgoblin urge in his blood mixed with wanting revenge...

I'm mostly leaving that open for the Player that adopts him.

I am not going to lie - I am a little jealous of whoever gets to play him if someone does adopt him. I had a great time getting inside of his mind!

Just one minor detail:
Don't forget to proof-read.
Paragraph Eight, Third sentence:
"The goblins were still foot soldiers, but they were not sent to their deaths for his amusement, as Darauk had often done."

Ah! Nice catch! (I admit, I normally don't proof read these, because I time myself on the iPhone and don't give myself more than an hour to write them)... And I, admittedly fear, that if I go back and proof read, that's going to lead to edits, which will lead to writing way more. I do, however, try to catch typos like that - as I am writing these! But sometimes my mind is in the character's life and my fingers are just typing the reel playing before my eyes, and I miss them!

Querry: I usually don't do very well when writing stories. While you quoted what I had written, you didn't really comment on it, except to figure out your Backstory.
What did you think?
I need to work on The Hobgoblin "Emperor", and his court.....some Ideas perkulating.....

Hah! What did I think? Clearly I loved the notion. You opened a doorway to allow me to see this character's life - of where he started, what happened, and where he ended up - and inspired enough ideas to fill in the rest of his story!

[Great Dragon]

@Tawmis: Perhaps you'd enjoy reading through my Ancient Realms and related threads? Whenever you get the time.

I'm maybe a Hipster Grognard.

Spoiler: Ramblings

Show

These can be rather long, so Spoiler-ed to save space and not distract from the main point of your thread.

(Typing this stuff on my phone is a pain, but...)

I have, since nearly the day I started DMing (I was, indeed, a Munchkin Player, but not really a Murder-Hobo) - somewhere around 1985, and still AD&D 1e - always thought that Sentient Humanoids were every bit as able to become Classed N/PCs.

It started with (wait for it) Kobolds!!!

Being a huge Stan Lee fan, as the DM stuck running Villains and needing to figure out what made some Humanoids "Evil", I would ask myself: "What are their motivations towards being hostile towards other "normal" (especially PC) Races?"

Now that 5e has officially opened the door to most of these Races as PCs, I ponder:
"What are believable ways for them to become Good and/or Heroes?"

And "How would most NPCs accept this?"
(It's going to be fun portraying the Town's reactions to this Hobgoblin becoming a PC, and walking the streets...)

So, if - by chance - any of my ideas can help someone come up with a way for their Character to do the same, I shall be most happy, especially if I'm ever actually told.

Posting responses into my Hello thread, would be most appreciated.
It's dying!!

[Tawmis]

I have, since nearly the day I started DMing (I was, indeed, a Munchkin Player, but not really a Murder-Hobo) - somewhere around 1985, and still AD&D 1e - always thought that Sentient Humanoids were every bit as able to become Classed N/PCs.

It started with (wait for it) Kobolds!!!

Being a huge Stan Lee fan, as the DM stuck running Villains and needing to figure out what made some Humanoids "Evil", I would ask myself: "What are their motivations towards being hostile towards other "normal" (especially PC) Races?"

Now that 5e has officially opened the door to most of these Races as PCs, I ponder:
"What are believable ways for them to become Good and/or Heroes?"

And "How would most NPCs accept this?"
(It's going to be fun portraying the Town's reactions to this Hobgoblin becoming a PC, and walking the streets...)

So, if - by chance - any of my ideas can help someone come up with a way for their Character to do the same, I shall be most happy, especially if I'm ever actually told.

I was an avid fan of DUNGEON MAGAZINE (and even wrote two modules I attempted to get published; one of them being called "Giant Problems" about a Hill Giant who gets infected by a werebear - so there's this huge bear terrorizing the land - and the party has to piece together what's happened - that one got declined - another one I wrote was about Scarecrows that get sentient life using the Scarecrow monster - I wrote around Halloween time. Dungeon replied that they already had a similar adventure planned - and lo and behold - their adventure comes out and it was even the cover of the magazine! Gargh! But I did manage to appear in the final issue of Dungeon Magazine... but in the letter's page!) lol

All this to say (and get back to the point of!) - there was an adventure in DUNGEON MAGAZINE where the players controlled pre-generated monsters that go on a quest which was fabulous to both run and play!

I am of the same mind that intelligent humanoids can be different alignments, and can be playable... and I am happy to see new 5e books exploring those possibilities further.

[BloodSnake'sCha]

Hello, I am can't think on how to continue my character story so I am asking for your help you magnificent and awesome writer that help people on the internet :)

Unfortunately I was only able to write the body on my character backstory.

She is a TN(True Natural) Protector Asimar that grow in the Shadowfell(how can you not make it into a TN character).

She fight close to her enemies with a wand for the strong ones and hand crossbow for the weak ones(She have Crossbow Expert).
She is heavily armored: +1 shield, fluffed as a buckler and Half-Plate with other bigger shield on the back for the look.

Personality Traits:
I love a good insult, even one directed at me.
I change my mood or my mind as quickly as I change key in a song.
Ideals:
Honesty. Art should reflect the soul; it should come from within and reveal who we really are. (Any)
Bonds:
I would do anything for the other members of my old troupe.
Flaws:
I’ll do anything to win fame and renown.

Shadow Sorcerer Quirks:
When you are asleep, you don’t appear to breathe (though you must still breathe to survive).
You barely bleed, even when badly injured.

He name is Shir Ko'ev(Translated to Hurting Song).
She is a Gladiator Shadow Sorcerer 5/Hexblade 2(a blessing from the Raven Queen).
You have trouble remembering that living creatures and corpses should be treated differently.

That is what I have:

She was a young Asimar that was sold to shader-kai(and sent to the shadow plane) and show great talent in performance. They trained her in the way of battle and showmanship and how to control the shadows of their plane by stuffing shadows into her.

She was a very good gladiator, got her masters a lot of prestige.
In her last fight the Raven Queen was watching. And she won with a great performance.

This great fight(with selected warriors, the Raven Queen was watching after all) bought her her freedom. She got a tattoo of the queen symbol on her tongue and got her blessing from her clerics(The 2 hexblade levels)

She joined some wizards on their way to the material plane in order to gain glory for herself in the name of the queen.

[Holiday Warlock]

Salutations! I have an idea that I'm a little unsure about. I've got an idea for a druid that failed wizard school. He is from a old wizarding family and is kind of very bad at wizard magic. The worst thing about it for him though, is the way that his family just assumes that if he just tried harder he'd be good at it. I'm just not sure about name or why he became a druid or anything quite like that, so I'd quite appreciate it if you could help.

[AH0098]

Spoiler

Show

First one done (I plan to do the second one too!) Have some things to do tonight, so it might not be till Sunday... Unless the bards pull me back.
It's always interesting writing a Hexblade... as I said in someone else's background... I've never DM'ed for anyone playing a Hexblade... nor have I ever played one myself.
So I always fear I might be getting something wrong because I am not familiar with the class enough to be feel like I always get it right...
That said, I managed to write something - and had some fun with the supporting cast... and, doing one of those things where I make a reference to someone else's backstory I'd written here (the Order that the Paladin is from; as well as the bit about dogs...)
As always, please tell me if I was close to the mark... what you liked or didn't ... what fit and what didn't...
With Hexblades... I always worry!
That said - enjoy!
==========================================
I slumped against the wall, extending my arm, with my copper cup, hoping someone would offer me coin and take pity on me.

Instead a wagon rolled by, the wooden wheel hitting the puddle of mud just right so that it splashed over my hand, chest and cup. I wiped some of the specks of mud that had managed to land on my face as well and peered into the dented copper cup. It had captured a fair amount of the mud.

Such was the story of my life.

When I was five years old, my parents abandoned me here in the Southern Ward of Waterdeep. I was so young, I don’t even remember my last name – it wasn’t important, really, because in some cultures a last name means something. In the Southern Ward of Waterdeep, where the poor lived, you were lucky if someone remembered your first name, unless it was to accuse you of stealing.

A metal boot came to stand before me and I looked up and saw a man, adorned in full platemail, looking down at me. The man – a Paladin by the looks of the crest on his breastplate and shield – brought the wagon he’d been escorting (the same one that splashed mud on me) to a halt.

“Listen, I will move,” I sighed, having gotten used to Paladins and city guards patrolling the streets and “making the vermin of Southern Ward go into hiding.” I pushed against the wall and stood, placing my copper cup into my belt pouch. I pulled my hair back and tied it in a knot.

“A Half-Elf,” the Paladin commented, seeing my ears, but noting my facial hair.

The top of my hand always itched when I was nervous and this was no exception. I began itching my hand as I looked at the Paladin. I rolled my eyes, “Is there a problem with that?”

The Paladin smirked. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Venali,” I answered. “Is there a reason you’re asking me this?”

Ignoring my question, the Paladin with long, golden hair and a beard streaked with grey asked, “What’s your surname Venali?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged.

“Are you being smart with me?” the Paladin asked, raising a golden eyebrow.

“No,” I answered truthfully. “I’ve lived on the streets for thirteen years. I was abandoned by my parents at the age of five. I barely remember their faces; let alone what my surname was.”

“I believe the gods have put me in your path for a reason, Venali Zyldan,” he said, sizing me up and down.

“Zyldan?” I asked, unsure what that had meant.

“It means ‘the night without moon’,” the Paladin explained. “It’s a surname we use for those like you, who have been abandoned and do not know their true last name. My name is Jore Stormslight. And I am with the Order known as the Shield of Faith. I sense something in you. Something that needs saving.” He extended his hand to me. “Are you willing to take a chance on me, if I am willing to take a chance on you?”

I nodded my head, and took his hand. I wasn’t sure what I was in for, to be honest. But if it got me off the streets and feed for one day, I would take that chance.

He helped me onto the back of the wagon, where I saw they were escorting a shipment of weapons. The wagon pulled through the Southern Ward of Waterdeep and made its way to the Castle Ward of Waterdeep. The difference had been night and day. Here the streets were clean, people were jovial, markets lined the streets with vendors selling everything you could possibly imagine.

Jore Stormslight took me into his home, introduced me to his wife, who was a very kind woman. She immediately treated me as if I were her son. She cleared a room for me, fed me, and gave me clothes to fit me that were clean.

Jore began teaching me how to fight, how to use a sword, how to use a shield, the benefits of armor. First it was leather armor, then chainmail, and then came the platemail. He helped shape my body into muscle, once I was fed properly rather than rotting away as I had been deprived of food and water.

“Remember,” he would say, with thrusts of his sword, that I was forced to parry wearing platemail, that weighed more than I did. “Not everyone deserves a second chance,” he said. “There will be those that may betray you. But do not keep your heart so guarded that you let none inside. A true friend will be a friend for life. Someone you can count on to be next to you, in that last fight, you know you will both perish in.”

During another lesson where I was forced to learn to use a sword, while he parried my (admittedly feeble) lunges, he had instilled in me, “No matter what, help those that are in need. Help prevent anyone from being oppressed by challenging those that would harm others. There are those – much like yourself when I first met you – that are weak and innocent and need in protection. Only those who are strong, forged into weapons, can guard against the approaching darkness.”

For weeks he taught me how to fight. He built up my tolerance and constitution so that wearing platemail was still awkward to move in; I was no longer winded after taking ten steps.

“I think you’re ready to join the Order,” he smiled after months of this.

“You want me to become a Paladin?” I asked, shocked. I had thought this was all to simply teach me how to defend myself, and once I was ready he would put me back out on the streets, better prepared to live out there.

“I think the light of the god needs to fill your soul,” Jore Stormslight smiled. “Once it does, you will be one of the Shield of Faith. Who knows,” he smiled, “you might even get assigned a canine.”

“I thought the canines were only assigned to high ranking commanders,” I asked, having read up on the Order, after Jore’s wife, Bellanna Stormstrike spent all my free time, learning how to read and write. She was surprised how quickly I had picked it up. She often said it was “magic.”

“That was the way long ago,” Jore smiled, as he stroked his beard. “These days it’s the canines that select us.”

“Is it true that they’re enchanted,” I asked, curiously.

“If you believe the stories,” Jore smiled broadly.

“Do you?” I shrugged my shoulders.

“If you need to ask, then you’ve not been paying attention,” he chuckled. “Yes,” he finally said, as I stared at him blankly. “I do believe.”

We prepared our saddles and Jore kissed his wife goodbye, and I hugged Bellanna. Tears brimmed in my eyes, saying farewell to her. I’d never truly had a family – not one I remembered anyway. But Jore and Bellanna showed me nothing but the purest sense of love and family. The feeling I felt in my heart, missing her before I had even left was a sensation I’d never experienced.

The ride to the Cliffs of Judgement was one that would be a two week journey, with several stops in cities and towns along the way. It was the fifth night, as we were riding past a small forest called ‘The Shadow Wood’ where we had been ambushed by Orcs; the Red Eye Orcs; the ancient enemies of the Shield of Faith. Jore was off of his horse and fighting without a moment’s hesitation, but it’s true what they say. You can practice for weeks, but when the time comes to fight, my entire body froze. As I watched Jore fight more orcs than he could possibly win against, the top of my hand began to burn. I itched it so furiously that I drew blood and that’s when I noticed a small green pulsating crystal embedded in the top of my hand.

“I can help you,” a voice whispered inside my mind. “Accept my help and I can save you and your precious friend.”

“Yes!” I shouted.

Suddenly energy, black and vicious, swirling with purple, encased my body and flew from my hands, emitting a dark and powerful blast that struck the Red Eye Orcs, sending them reeling back. The surprise had been enough for Jore to regain his footing and slay several of them, forcing the six others to flee.

Jore wiped the blood from his eyes. “What was that?” he asked.

I looked at my hands. “I,” I stammered, “I don’t know.” I looked at Jore frightened, and I could see concern in his eyes. Is that what he had sensed in me? Is that why he said the god’s light needed to fill my soul? Had he sensed this unusual darkness in me? Is this why my family abandoned me at a young age? The itching of my hand made sense now. This thing was lurking, waiting, and whenever I was in danger it itched, as if wanting to be set free to help me. But what was it? Was it evil? Good?

I began to break down and cry as I collapsed to my knees. “I need to find out what… who I am…” I said to Jore.

He set a grim look on his face, and placed his hand on my shoulder. “I understand. Remember what I taught you. Let the Light be your guide. Come back when you’re ready. You are always welcome back home.”

Home.

I had one. And now I was going to leave it behind, abandon it, like my parents had abandoned me, and in a weird twist of fate, so that I could find the ones who abandoned me originally…

Freaking AWESOME! You embodied my mental impression of Venali when I came up with his concept. Your work is AMAZING!

[AH0098]

Spoiler

Show

Second one complete! This was kind of fun. Never DM'ed anyone through the Feywild (or had a character go through it!)
So I imagined a world, where everything is far more intense - from the colors of the world, to the people and the way they reacted.
I think I found a fun way that would have introduced Tolfan to the Feywild, and how he'd have such knowledge...
And the Satyr queen was based on this image that I found, while trying to find a way to think how a female Satyr might look.
As always, please let me know what you like or didn't like - what works, what didn't!
I welcome all feedback!
Enjoy!
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In many regards, Tolfan Folkor was like every other Forest Gnome, being inherently capable of tampering with magic by creating minor illusions. He took great pleasure in using illusions to frighten the Red Eye Orcs who frequently ventured into the Forest of Lethyr, even though the forest was also vigorously protected by Druids, Rangers, and even Treants.

Tolfan had developed a strong friendship with one of those Treants named Stonebark. Stonebark was several thousand years old and moved slowly. He had told Tolfan one of his favorite things to do was gather other Treants and constantly shift their movement, ever slowly, so that those who were not welcomed were confused by the ever moving terrain, believing the forest to be haunted.

“So you’re over a thousand cycles old,” Tolfan remarked in awe, sitting on one of Stonebark’s branches as the Treant slowly made his way through the woods. “You must have seen so many things in your lifetime.”

“Indeed,” Stonebark’s voice sounded like an old tree creaking in the wind. “I remember the Fey.”

“The Fey,” Tolfan remarked, amazed. The Fey, though some still existed throughout the world, there had been a time that the Fey ran wild throughout the world, before one day, retreating back to their realm when they found this one to be too hostile. “What was that like?” Tolfan asked.

“Chaos,” Stonebark’s wooden features slowly shaped into a smile, as he recalled the pixies, the sprites, the satyrs, and other magical creatures that had run wild through the Forest of Lethyr. “I welcomed their assistance against troublesome invaders, but their magic often created more chaos… they’re fickle and volatile.”

Several Pixies and Sprites still populated the Forest of Lethyr, but they were contained into tiny pockets of areas in the woods. Tolfan remembered the first time he encountered pixies and had managed to befriend them. They were opposed to any form of violence. Tolfan made one mistake later, and quickly learned the difference between pixies, and their fey cousins, the sprites, who were willing to commit acts of violence, if they felt threatened. Having heard, what he thought was pixies, Tolfan sprang into their area, only to be attacked by a flutter of sprites.

“What is their realm like?” Tolfan asked the ancient Treant.

“The Feywild,” Stonebark replied, “is a place of sheer chaos. As volatile as those that inhabit it, it is an echo of this world, with the land itself drenched in magic. I believe because that magic is constantly flowing in the Feywild, it creates an intoxicating effect, like when humans consume more alcohol than their body is capable of withstanding, they become intoxicated. And those intoxicated humans often become emotional, either crying for no reason, or seeking to fight someone for the smallest slight they feel has been committed against them. Now,” Stonebark smiled, “imagine those intoxicated humans were all magic casters. That, my friend, is the Feywild.”

Tolfan had taken an interest in learning to do more with his illusions and the idea of an entire land drenched in magic seemed like the ideal place to go and learn how to channel it. The Fey excelled at using illusions to toy with anyone they pleased. Perhaps one of them could teach him how to master the art of becoming an illusionist even better than his current teacher, a fellow Forest Gnome named Gorbin Doodlecast.

“How does one get to and from the Feywild?” I asked.

“There are portals in most forests,” Stonebark replied, “so that the Fey can come back and forth. Often times, the Fey who stay in this world, return to the Fey for brief stints. I don’t know if it’s to recharge their magic or perhaps just to return home and see their family… before getting sick of dealing with the madness and returning back here.”

“Is there a portal in these woods?” I asked. “I imagine there must be as I know there are pixies, sprites and even a small band of satyr that live in these woods. And with the Druids and Rangers, along with your kind, protecting it, it seems like there would be.”

“Indeed there is,” Stonebark smiled. “But I cannot tell you where it is.”

“Cannot or will not?” Tolfan asked with a coy smile.

“Both,” Stonebark said matter-of-factly.

Tolfan nodded. “I understand, my old friend.”

But Tolfan suspected he knew where the entrance was. There was a tree, much larger than any of the others in the Forest of Lethyr directly in the center of the woods. It’s where the Druids always gathered for their meetings. Tolfan suspected the tree was so large because it was a magical doorway between this world and the Feywild.

For two weeks, Tolfan packed a dinner and sat, hiding in the bushes, using his own ability to shape a minor illusion to make it appear he was one with the bushes. He patiently waited. He “attended” two of the Druid meetings by waiting and hiding, as they spoke of the rising threat of the Red Eye Orcs and possibly forming an alliance with a group of Paladins known as the Shield of Faith. Then it finally happened, several hours before sunrise, a flutter of pixies approached the tree and whispered some words of magic, and the very roots of the tree lifted up, and formed a portal inside of it. The pixies entered, and almost immediately the portal began to close behind them. Tolfan burst into a sprint and wasn’t entirely sure he was going to make it (and had to admit the idea began to cross his mind – what if only half of his body made it when the portal closed?)

With one giant leap, he pushed his way just as the portal closed on his bag of food. When he landed with a gentle thud, he looked at his hand and saw that the straps of his food bag had been severed. So, somewhere on the other side, there was a bag of food sitting next to the large tree and here he was in the Feywild, without food. Not ideal, but life was too short not to be full of adventure. This was just one more adventure that he would, ideally, somehow survive.

Stonebark was right, however. It was like a thousand needles piercing his feet, as he felt the magic rush through his body. For a moment he thought he might have bitten into a “Pixie Mushroom” because everything in the Feywild was overly vibrant in colors. Purples were so deep, with a thousand different hues swirling all at one time, the blues varied from soft to deep, dark, ocean blues. It was almost painful to see anything.

And that’s why Tolfan never saw the centaurs, with the net, who were riding up on him.

“A Forest Gnome!” he heard, just before he was ensnared with a net. The next sensation was a prick in his neck. He saw a Sprite fluttering away and knew immediately, he’d been hit with one of their arrows that tended to put… people… to… sleep…


Tolfan opened his eyes and saw he was sitting before a beautiful Satyr woman. “What business do you have in the Feywild, Forest Gnome?” she asked.

Tolfan tried to focus but the sleep effect was still beating through his blood, making it increasingly difficult to focus, despite his best efforts. She was a Satyr with hair, so red and vibrant, with a million shades of amber, burgundy, cerise, cinnamon, claret, copper, and crimson, on each strand of hair. She had a very womanly shape for her upper torso, and rather ample breasts that were barely covered and restrained by veins and leaves. Small deer-like antlers sprung from the top of her head. Her bottom torso was covered in a dress woven together by leaves, and her hooved legs were covered, down to the ankles. She was beautiful.

“I want to learn how to better master illusions to help defend the Forest of Lethyr, where I live,” he answered, though he felt his words were slurring together. “You’re beautiful,” he found himself blurting out, though he wasn’t sure why he was confessing that.

The other Fey who had gathered, let out a gasp. Tolfan looked around him and realized for the first time that there were actually others in the room. He had been so focused on her.

Eliysa Deerrunner silenced the room with one gesture. “Begone, leave us!”

Tolfan got up to leave. “Not you!” she snapped. “The others.”

Quickly, the other Fey left the chamber.

Eliysa Deerrunner approached Tolfan. “Do you truly find me beautiful, mortal?”

“I do,” he admitted. Damn that sprite poison. It was made not only to render someone unconscious, but also force them to speak the truth.

“Then I have a proposition for you,” she said, leaning very close to Tolfan’s face. “I will teach more about how to master the art of illusions, but you will be a slave for my pleasure.”

This seemed like a wonderful bargain. Learn magic and be at the “mercy” of a beautiful Fae queen’s sexual urges! “I agree!” he slurred.

While the first few days were wonderful, it became clear to Tolfan, especially after the poison had begun to wear off, what he had gotten himself into. Her thirst was insatiable. She did not regard him as a person, but rather a possession, a toy. If he could not perform, because they had just performed a short moment ago, she became extremely volatile and emotional, and, truthfully, unbearable. Her endless thirst for pleasure, Tolfan began to realize, wasn’t always so much about pleasing her, as it was torturing him through pleasure, and attempting to break him.

It was three weeks of this, until Tolfan made the bold move of making an escape. He had been locked in a room the entire three weeks, and could not leave. But when one of the Satyr’s came to deliver him food, because the Queen would need him to be “ready for tonight” he grabbed the knife from the tray and put it to the Satyr’s throat and demanded to be taken to a portal. Using an illusion he was able to disguise himself and the Satyr, who led him to a portal. The Satyr muttered the words and the portal opened, but the Satyr warned him, “The Queen will not be pleased that you escaped. She will take it as a slight that you did not love her. This slight will not go unpunished.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Tolfan said and jumped through the portal.

Unfortunately this portal was one that was not in the wood, and also seemingly hanging in the air, and Tolfan fell and landed with a loud thump into the hot desert sands below. He looked up, spitting sand out of his mouth and wondered where he had landed…

I have to say I love it. You covered everything about Tolfan's personality in this story. He's a character I have been running for a few sessions and now he can reveal his past in session. I also love the Tawmis-Verse, tying in Tolfan's history with Ellator Skyhaven is just epic.

When you get back from the Con, no rush but here are two more. I hope you have fun with them and they end up being interesting to you.

1st

Spoiler

Show

Name: Berrian Haladar
Race: High Elf
Class: Wizard - Bladesinger
Background: Port City Noble
Personality:I'm privileged and I know it, but that doesn't mean I can't do good on my own. I want adventure and independence but will always be a philanthropist when I can. I am interested in learning more about all the races of Toril.
Ideals: I want to follow in my Father's steps as a Bladesinger, Philanthropist, Entrepreneur, and Elf. I will prove my father wrong, no matter how long it takes.
Bonds: Someone I loved died because of a mistake I made. That will never happen again.
Flaws: Prideful, surprisingly lacks caution
Notes:. Forgotten Realms Setting, I didn't determine if he is a Sun Elf or Moon Elf. I also didn't determine what city he is from.

2nd

Spoiler

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Name: Davlan Fallenleaf
Race: Ghostwise Halfling
Class: Druid - Moon most likely
Background: Faction Agent - Emerald Enclave
Personality: I believe in the balance of the natural world. I arrive to help those in need, and struggle to hold myself back at times for the sake of Balance.
Ideals: Protecting the natural Balance is the most important thing in life. If we let our natural world deteriorate, then where will anyone live?
Bonds: I would lay down my life for the people I served with. The balance of my home has been thrown off, I must find out why. I am leaving my family behind, to make things better no matter how much it hurts.
Flaws:
Notes: Travelling from the Chondalwood Forest.