Born in Cormyr a, Joetaro Jordilyn came to Neverwinter to start a new life.
Despite growing up in an orphanage, the half-elf Joetaro had everything he wanted in life - a career as a sellsword, a beautiful wife and an affinity for ale. Over the years, an accident almost cost him his ability to walk. Although he rehabilitated from his injury, the process cost him his marriage.
Joetaro later became a bartender. Although he was making good money, stress and loneliness began to take a toll on him. One night, after he said his goodbyes to his employer he ventured to a dragon’s lair in hopes the beast would kill him.
He struck the beast, only to find it was a silver dragon. The dragon, Thantalstar, realized what he was doing and immobilized Joetaro before he could do anymore harm to himself . The two shared a long conversation until they were attacked by a group of weretiger. Once the battle was over, Joetaro took the advice of the dragon and traveled with the werewolf Phareal Fangtooth, a servant of Selune, to the Conclave of the Moon.
Joetaro spent several weeks at the Conclave. There, he found friendship and people who cared for him. It was also this time Joetaro regained his confidence and strength.
During his last week, Joetaro and Phareal saved a young elven girl from danger. As he flew into battle, Joetaro felt the grace of Selune and found the strength to bring the girl to safety.
On his final night at the Conclave, he took an oath to serve Selune. In his dream, he saw the city of Neverwinter and traveled there by way of a caravan. He currently lives in a small apartment building in Protector’s Enclave, owned by Liset Cheldar, who also runs the Moonstone Mask.
As a holy warrior of Selune, Joetaro has sworn to tends to goes out of his way to help the innocent in the name of his goddess. He spends most of his days solving cases and helping people who come to him for aid. He is also on a retainer for services from General Sabine.
Joetaro also sponsors the Silverstar Boxing Team, which trains out of the Neverwinter Academy.
In his spare time, Joetaro plays with his dogs Lager and Guines, and his velociraptor Bud.
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I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Currently playing, came into campaign already at Paladin 3 / Barbarian 1. Was an enemy to the party at first, but after a battle it turns out we have a mutual enemy. And an enemy of an enemy is an ally, until it doesn't serve me well anymore.
Kergis grew up in the great city of Straasall. As with most Tieflings he was considered an outcast. Determined to break the stigma that followed Tieflings he approached the clergy and inquired about joining. They were hesitant, but was accepted. He spent years earning their good graces and eventually was invited to train to become a paladin, which he gladly accepted.
During his training he met another Tiefling by the name of Kallista, they grew close throughout his training and around a year after the completion of his paladin training, they wed by the same clergy that accepted him. They bore one child, a boy they named Leucis. They moved into the upper section of the city. Patrolled by guard at night. Safe, secure.
Time passed and life was good for them, they was well respected from the citizens, however from the king, and in turn his guards, they were not. King Huelin despised other races. Especially the demonic heritage of Tieflings. He was constantly harassed and threatened by the Kings guard to leave the clergy and return to the slums where they belonged. Still determined to break the dogma of Tieflings. He requested a sitting with the king. Which the king granted. But as he soon found out, he was not brought to be heard, but to be given a choice. Leave, or else.
Despite Kallista's pleas, Kergis was determined to stay and convince the king of their pure intentions. Until one night while sleeping, he was woken to a group of bandits breaking in, he tried to defend but was outnumbered and overwhelmed, restrained and gagged, he was forced to watch as they raped and murdered his wife and child. All the while the bandits are laughing and tormenting him. He calls out to his god for strength. Answered with silence, disturbed only by muffled screams. He calls again, answered, but by an unfamiliar voice, female, soothing. "Does your god not answer? Are you not worthy of him? Perhaps. I can give you the strength you desire."
Tiefling blood drew a fiend near. This filled him with the power to fight, he didn't think about the cost. He manages to brutally kill three, the others tackle him and fall out the front door into the streets where two kings guard are waiting outside. Citizens pour out of their homes into the streets to witness him being placed under arrest for murdering his family and three kings guard who tried to stop him. He is brought before the king who says there will be no trial, he will be put to death in three days. He yells to the king "you will die by my hand, and any that choose to follow you, you will know my pain".
As he lays in his cell, rotten food is thrown at him in his cell by the citizens, even the other paladins, as they call him "betrayer, deceiver, cruel" How can the city, by simply defending himself from such evil, cast him out as tainted, for having betrayed their king. When it was the king who was truly the evil one. He was shocked by this. He did so much to save them through the years and they cast him aside? He grew furious. No good deeds goes unpunished.
In his cell awaiting his death. He calls to the voice once again. The fiend approaches and tells him this was the truth of his former order. Cowards who didn't have the strength or the vision to do what was necessary. The only way people would be saved and kept safe was if all evil was utterly destroyed. The world will be truly saved, when it is ruled by one and one only, a righteous one with all the power and no rivals.
The feind aids him once more and he escapes under the cloak of night and flees the city.
The voice showed him the power of the undead as a force for goodness. He was hesitant at first but the voices's reasoning and logic was persuasive. The voice raised it and he controlled his first undead, the corpse of one of the three he slain in his home. 'Now, you will actually do some good.' At the urging of the voice he left civilization for some time to meditate and train his new abilities in some desert ruins. He left, dropping his holy symbol in the dirt as he departed.
Godless, focused on his new path, the time has come now for his return.
He has currently found refuge with The Cult of the Dragon, working as a hired mercenary, killing for pay, and raising his victims into his army. He will one day overthrow the King and rule his kingdom, and rid the world of any and all that that do not share his conviction for destroying evil.
And still sort of a work in progress, I've made a couple tweaks to it as we go. Fist time playing again since AD&D when I was like 13.
Hello here is my Paladin Donaar FoundChild a red Dragonborn Paladin lv 4 Oath of Devotion and so here is the backstory Donaar was raised by a female Half-Elf Druid named Keyleth Evenwood, She found Donaar after his family's caravan was attacked and killed, Donaar alone survived. She taught him all he knows of the gods and the world raised him her self. She is the reason why Donaar is who he is today. Looking back those were the happiest days of his life, At 16 years of age all that changed when he learned about Tiamat and her followers. Keyleth and Donaar were in the north lands she was looking for some old tomb, Who's he didn't know to this day, Donaar went to the nearby Village for some supplies for the dig. The man at the trade post said that he had seen some more Dragonborn the day before and they had strange marking on there shields, He said they had asked about the tomb as well. Something in the pit of Donaar stomach knew something was wrong and he raced back up to the dig. only to find the camp destroyed and lots of blood leading away from the dig site, Donaar followed the blood and found a dead black dragonborn, He continued to follow the blood trail until it just stopped without any clues as to where anyone had gone. Donaar was alone, Keyleth the only Family he had ever known was gone. Donaar returned to the south to the monks who had helped teach him how to read and write, and showed them the emblem that was on the shield of the ones who attacked the dig. And they told him all about Tiamat and her kind. With this knowledge Donaar decided to become a Paladin for Bahamut and try and rid the worlds of Tiamat's followers
That's the end of the backstory for now and its still a bit rough. we will see how it goes
I have a Paladin idea. It's an idea that I came up with on the fly. The thing is I need help with the background.
I was thinking of the idea of a Neutral Evil Half-Elf Paladin. One that is sadistic and delights in the pain of others, but also likes to keep their true nature a secret from their companions.
I have an idea for their backstory, which involves them being left for dead by a holy order that they used to serve, being resurrected by a blood god of some sort (I have no knowledge of the gods of the realm, so I literally put 'some blood god' in my character sheet.), being plagued by an incurable disease that causes red luminescent veins to appear on their skin (which may or may not be the cause of their immorality), and last but not least being orphaned as a child.
I just come up with this backstory on the fly by the way.
2) My qualms don’t get in the way of exterminating the wretched.
**************************************************** Some believes:
Punishment for wrongdoing allows me to sacrifice even my own righteousness to bring justice and death to profound immortality wickedness and depravity. It is brutally simple.
The greatest evil must sometimes be destroyed with vengeance and evil greater than one is facing. Redemption and revenge may be achieved through the utter destruction of evil and all dark deities it serves. Only then may life begin anew ....
They must be hunted fearlessly! Cast out of this world by any, and all means necessary!
My paladin has a shorter backstory, but one I find very interesting.
Lukas Ironbark, a Human Paladin of Conquest.
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Lukas Ironbark was born into a rich family that was the seat of power in the small mining town of Wattsmouth. Wattsmouth profited well by selling ores and rare minerals, but we’re plagued by a group of slave traders and bandits, the Black Brand, who demanded money and a place to stay every month. One month the Ironbark family’s patriarch, Madran Ironbark, demanded that the Black Brand leave the town, but this was a fools errand. That night the Black Brand burned down the Ironbark family’s manor, hoping to kill everyone inside, but Lukas escaped. While mourning his family, Lukas recalled hearing about the God of Death, Myrkul. Lukas made a contract with Myrkul, where Myrkul agreed to revive Lukas’ family after a number of years served as his champion. Lukas is now serving as Myrkul’s instrument of destruction and is seeking to erraticate the Black Brand. He doesn’t like hurting people, but he knows he has to do it to save his family.
Kasnan's earliest memory is standing at the front step of an orphanage, with the head mistress looking down her nose at him as though she had better things to do. She took him in, only to promptly turn him out a couple days later when he accidentally jolted another child with lightning. This prejudice shaped a lot of his childhood on the streets of Waterdeep as he turned to begging and petty theft to survive. He avoided street thugs as much as he could and refused shady work for the city's underbelly and managed, with no small amount of luck, to make it to adulthood. He had no ambition and fully expected to be scraping by as a homeless beggar until he died.
And then one day everything changed rather quickly.
Rain drenched the city, its usual life dulled by the chilling downpour, casting the buildings in blurred grey. Water pattered against his scales as he trudged through backstreets. It had already soaked through his patchy clothes and he shivered, ducking his head down a little with a sigh.
Kas had a love-hate relationship with rain. On one hand, free bath, free fresh water. On the other, people tended to stay inside, which meant fewer people, which meant fewer pockets. On a bright day he could've made twice what he had in the purse clutched in his hand. He shook his head, sending droplets flying. Positive thinking. He'd gotten a meal - gods bless Margo and her cooking. He had more coin than he started with. And he had a roof, a step up from the last time it rained.
Looking up toward his little corner of the city, Kas halted. There was someone there. A human, curled up on the steps. He didn't have any enemies, he was careful, so likely another squatter. The city had plenty of them. But Kas had worked hard for that roof.
He let his feet fall a little harder to announce his presence as he drew closer. Often that was enough, the sound of someone bigger and the sight of a dragonborn would send people skittering away quickly. But the human didn't run, hardly moved at all.
Kas stopped at the bottom step and leaned on his knee with a sigh. "Can I help you?"
The human shifted, slowly, as if it pained him. Sad eyes looked up at him. "I am sorry. I have nowhere to go. Will you share your shelter?"
He wanted to say no. Charity was dangerous when one had so little already. But Kas had a soft heart. It was why he shared his meal with the street urchins that morning. It was why he declined muscle work, why he kept his hands clean. It was going to get him killed one day, he was sure.
Looking over the scarred and scraped old man wearing only a rag around his hips, Kas doubted it would be today.
"There's a lot of stairs. Will you need a hand?"
A smile warmed the man's face and he held out his hand, wrapped in red cords. "Thank you. I can walk."
Kas took his hand and pulled him up slowly. He kept a hand at his back as they climbed the steps, pushing aside the tattered curtain he used for a door. A mewl welcomed them and Kas smiled as the fluffy grey cat wound around his ankle. "Hey, Nibbs." He bent and picked up the cat, scratching their chin as he nodded to the man. "It ain't much, but make yourself at home."
The man nodded, easing himself down beside the charred remains of last night's fire. Kas set to building it up again, frowning at the few bits of wood he had left. Doubtful there'd be much furniture left after all this rain, but he could look. Firelight cast the shabby hole in warm oranges, shadows dancing over the bowls and buckets arranged to catch water dripping through the roof and the pile of blankets he'd collected. Kas tucked his coin pouch underneath and put Nibbs down on the threadbare pillow, then picked up a blanket and draped it over the man without a word.
"Thank you." He could feel the man's gaze on his back. "You're very kind."
Kas huffed a laugh as he tended to the buckets. "Not something I get called often." Taking a full bucket, he started to pour it into a motley collection of jugs.
"You keep it close to your chest."
He hummed. "Kinda have to."
"Truly? Could you not share it?"
Another laugh rumbled through his chest, sparks on his tongue. Kas gestured behind him to his sorry little room. "Share what? Kindness don't count for much, I'd think you'd know that."
"You have more than you think, Kasnan."
A chill shot down his spine. He slowly set down the jug in his hand as his heart began to thud against his ribs. "How d'you know?"
"I know you well."
Warmth hit his back, more than his little fire had ever made, and Kas was suddenly very afraid. Slowly, he turned to face the man again. He hadn't changed, still a sad world-weary face and damaged body. But there was a presence to him now, almost a tangible light. It nearly hurt to look at him, yet Kas couldn't look away.
"...who are you?" Kas asked, voice barely a whisper.
"I am Ilmater," He said. "And I would ask something of you, Kasnan."
Kas' brow ridge knotted. "Me?"
He nodded and stood, again with slow pained movements. "You are a thief eking out a life on the fringes of this city. But you can be something else. If you choose."
Kas just stared at Him. "...again, don't hear that often."
He smiled warmly. "Yet it is just as much the truth. I ask you to be more, to rise up and defend others. I will be with you and guide you where I can."
Ilmater pressed His hand against Kas' chest; warmth bloomed under the touch and Kas couldn't help a sharp suck of air. "Because you have a soft heart. You should share it. What I ask of you will not be easy." His smile faded, sadness in His eyes. "You will stumble, and you may fall. But I must ask."
Kas held his gaze, tucking his tongue against his teeth as he mulled it over. He had a life here - not the nicest, but he got by, it wasn't dangerous. But it was lonely. He had no one beside the stray cats that came and went. The thought that he could just...change, shed it like a coat and become something new. It scared him. But...
Ilmater smiled again, lined face softening with joy. He unwrapped a bit of the red cord and pressed it into Kas' hand. "Keep this with you. Go to my temple. Find companions if you can. If you have need of me, I will be with you."
Kas looked down at the cord in his hand, then looked up as the warmth faded and the blanket fluttered to the ground. He was gone. Wordlessly he sank to the floor, staring at the fire. Another mewl and he looked down at Nibbs, rubbing against his hands. He absently scratched their ear. "Nobody's gonna believe this, Nibbs."
Kasnan is only semi-trained, suddenly finding himself neck-deep in a plot involving the Scarlet Brotherhood and goddesses Lolth, Talona, and Loviatar to bring a lord of Hell to the Prime Material. He's doing his best. As terrifying and overwhelming the situation is, he's surprised to find he doesn't want to go back to being a beggar in Waterdeep. It was simpler, but difficult in its own right - and unbearably lonely.
Nibbs is an elven cat and very intelligent, and one of Kas's dearest friends. As soon as Kas learned he could speak, he immediately worked on learning elvish so they could communicate.
Prior to meeting his patron, Kas had never killed anyone. He has a strong dislike for fighting and killing and scenes of gore give him awful nausea.
He is very physically affectionate to his friends and companions.
He's always a little surprised when someone finds him attractive.
He's still a little bit afraid of the dark, something he hates to admit.
Kas has no idea what happened to his parents. He tries not to wonder.
He's not used to having friends and is still figuring out how relationships, platonic or otherwise, work.
His main weaponset is halberd and shield (technically not a versatile weapon, DM is kind)
This is the tale of a mighty paladin, one who was lovingly named Roondar "Biglifter" Fomkiln Jerda Eblon Riekl Aylesbury Majut Gilmbellstock Noirgel.
Its a long story, or a short one. I suppose its more like a crazy series of very silly coincidences.
Well to start with, Roondar is not some normal paladin, nay, he isn't even a normal race. For he was born a centaur! Though small for his race, he was definitely a centaur, the lower body of a horse. The family that raised him however, was not. He was raised lovingly by gnomes, in a sizable rock gnome warren, with multiple sibling gnomes, and he was the biggest gnome there even when he was but a child. Despite this, he thought himself a gnome and was told such, never to expect anything for many years. The cover story was simple, he was but a cursed gnome, similar to the idea of a tiefling (He had never met one, but if they had horns and a tail, why not horse legs). On the occasions when he would begin questioning things, perhaps believe he wasn't truly a gnome, a mage of the village would visit for the first time he would remember, only to remove any memory of the question, repeatedly. His exposure to the amount of memory reworking left him a little damaged in the mind, but not to the point of madness. He would grow up shockingly friendly and sociable, never letting his 'condition' get him down and having many friends in his childhood. He would also end up worshiping the Goddess of the Clock (Homebrew deity that started off with the domain of time, but assumed clocks and other mechanical devices as technology marched forward) and joining an order of mostly gnomish paladins sworn to defend and assist the various spread out warrens. During his young adult life and his training, he would begin a relationship with a childhood friend, apprenticed to one of his uncles as a gunsmith. Once finished training, Roondar would begin going out of the warren he grew up in as a gunrunner, working with his sweetheart and his uncle, but also doing other various deliveries for the other gnomes.
TLDR: Roondar is a brain damaged centaur paladin that loves guns, runs guns, takes guns, and smites with guns to make various things explode. He also obviously has a horse.
Currently playing a Dwarven Oath of the Ancients Paladin, he's been really fun to play. At this point of the campaign he's currently the stand-in owner of The Yawning Portal whilst Durnan is mia
History: Born to a common family of no nobility or notable name, Krogoth was far from a well-known dwarf, within his own mountain-home let alone amongst dwarven-kind in general. As far as he and his family were concerned, they were just ordinary folk going about their daily lives, neither starving nor necessarily poor his family managed to make ends meet. His mother was a chef at a local tavern that wasn't the most popular within the mountain, but still generated enough business to be considered, at the very least "noteworthy". His father was a stereotypical dwarf male by all accounts: dark brown hair, long beard braided with iron rings engraved with various runes, short, stout, and a miner by trade with very faint knowledge of blacksmithing. Despite their protesting, not wanting to lose their son in combat, Krogoth felt that he himself was a fighter, and one night in his dreams Clangeddin "himself" visited him. Saying he had a great part to play in the times to come that would shape the destiny of his clan beneath his mountain. For the next few eyars after that, Krogoth trained vigorously, mastering the art of combat. At the young age of 30 he enlisted at the "Temple of the Silverbeard" and begun tutorship there as a paladin, beginning as most did as a Paladin's squire.
He served as squire for 5 years and at the age of 35 was fully recognised as a Paladin of Clangeddin. A "Fist of Silverbeard" trained and tutored to mete out justice in his name, calling all to account for their crimes against him.
Fast forward to age 50 and Krogoth had earned at the very least a name for himself within the mountain, fellow denizens both respected, loved, and feared him, depending on which way you looked at it. One night, Clangeddin visited him in his dreams again, telling of a noble within the mountain that had commited grave sin. Upon awakening Clangeddin blindly followed the order within his dream, shield and hammer in hand he burst the noble's door down, not even seeing the cowering wife and child as he executed the noble on the spot. Guards were called, and he was restrained. The noble he had killed had actually been a peace ambassador from a neighbouring clan who had been offered the hospitality of Krogoth's lord as they negotiated trade deals between the two clans.
What followed was war, however that war would not begin until years after Krogoth was banished from the mountain. Krogoth had been imprisoned, and stripped of both status, rank, and everything he had owned. He plead to his clan that he was doing Clangeddin's work, for surely Clangeddin would not have betrayed him, sent him on an errand that would ultimately damn him. Although unbelieving of it in the slightest, the lord took a slight pity on Krogoth, as he had served the temple and the clan well. Krogoth was allowed to leave with his life, and warhammer, but the plate armour of beautiful white and gold that was bestowed upon him was melted down and he was denounced as a "Fist of Clangeddin" amongst his clan. They struck his name from their history, even he had forgotten it now. Krogoth was the name he gave himself in the wilds.
During his exile, he made home in a cabin of logs he built himself in the woods near waterdeep. For years he still prayed to Clangeddin, begging for answers but none came. He took Clangeddin's silence as a sign, even a test of his faith and as such he did not falter. He learned to live off the land, learning to hunt and forage. He befriended a human ranger during this time, who taught him further in the ways of the wild. Krogoth, through these teachings procured a love for the natural and nature itself, being a dwarf rocks specifically were something he found an all new love for and felt it was his duty to protect.
During his times in various cities he took up arena fighting, his title and stage name were "The Fist of Clangeddin", which he himself found both ironic and insulting, but it was what he had been left with. He became the champion of Waterdeep's arena and people referred to him lovingly as "The Champ". This was his downtime activity, when his anger at himself for what he had done burn too fiercely, the thrill of combat brought him back to himself. A part of himself he hated, but one he was learning to control.
His friend Rayder went off, and as such Krogoth looked after his friend's pup. His friend returned soon after and gave Krogoth the gold and a new shield with magical properties that he had acquired on his adventure. "I tried my hand at adventuring old friend, but that really isn't for me." Rayder chuckled as he shared an ale with Krogoth. "However, I think that merry band of dimwits I ventured with.. they could benefit from a person such as you. Seek out The Yawning Portal and the barkeep, a man named Durnan, friendly chap. I take him skins and meats in exchange for a room when I need to stay in the city for a bit... He'll point you in the right direction. The wilds will always be with you my friend, and I think in time, you will find your true calling, your apst does not define you, the man and friend I have made over these years, that is who you are now. And I would take the poisoned tip of a goblin's spear for you. Go forth and show everyone what for, I'll take care of your cabin friend, as long as I live it will stand as somewhere for you to return when you need to.... and one more thing... about this dark figure of a dwarf you've been seeing in your dreams, I fear it may be an omen, when the time has come for your faith to change, for I believe it truly will, you're a man of the wilds now and the gods of nature are your new pantheon whether you realise it or not, you may be tested.. be ready lad." he clapped his hand on his friend's shoulder then chuckling he kicked him out of his home. "Go on you short idiot, it's your fucking time"
And so Krogoth set forth, however he was detoured from The Yawning Portal as a new arena match was beginning... and what was an arena fight without.. the champ?
Born in the Country of Amn at Baulders Gate to parents that came from the Illuskan(swordcoast North) 5'11" 26, Parzival was by all means a symbol of charisma and athleticism. He joined the guard at 18 and was an officer by 24 for his dedication and his ability to command and inspire people with his charm and moving words, but all for naught when chaos struck in the form of a demon, summoned by a cult dedicated to Charun the Demon Lord of massacres, and attacked the town. Destruction rained through as Parzival and the guard were ill prepared and couldn’t stave off the attack. As Demons and creatures slayed the townspeople, he watched in horror, pinned by a demon ready to deal the death blow. BOOM a thunderous crack as the creature before him was EVISCERATED. In the quake stood a man with Shimmering Plate Mail. On his chest the symbol of Ilmater. This godsend, a Human bard, A tortle, and a few disciples in training, had come in search of this cult, attempting to eradicate their ranks and bring peace from Charun. They had left as swiftly as they came, their crusade not yet completed. Riding off, Parzival emblazoned the sigil on their Banner, and the carnage of his Hometown to Memory. Swearing an Oath of Vengeance: To himself, the dead around him and anyone that would listen, he would destroy those bent on the pain and torture of innocent lives.
A few years have gone by and Parzival wanders the lands looking for any hints of the Paladin and the disciples that saved him, or the cult of Charun. He has taken up the arms of a paladin and hand painted the crest upon his shield in hopes of catching their attention.
Just recently started playing and made the story vague enough for our DM to reintroduce anyone from the backstory at any given time. I have names and character sheets for the bard, tortle, and Paladin if they ever get a chance to show.
On the shores of a vast underground lake, lit by phosphorescent lichen hanging from a thousand stalactites, Sunny was born. There he learned to crawl, learned to walk and learned to survive. His parents, nearing the end of their stories, pasted a lifetimes knowledge to Sunny through tales, songs and poems. It was from them Sunny learned about The Fleeing and about the sun. How he wished he could see the sun. He longed for the world to go back to the way it was in the stories his parents told him. Maybe there was a way. After his parents passed, Sunny roamed the caverns and tunnels that connected them. Tortles have a natural aptitude for navigation, and it wasn’t long before Sunny knew the surrounding area by heart. He learned to create traps and weapons, and to fish using spears. He didn’t have much contact with other creatures during those early years. It wasn’t till he was older that he ventured further afield and started to explore the higher levels that he came into contact with the city. Gleamingdark was strange to Sunny, who had known a solitary life. Before then he’d only had contact with a few other Tortles and had made friends with some of the dwarfs who ventured to the deep caverns in search of riches. However, he found a home at the Temple of Light. Remembering his childhood dream of restoring the surface to the way it once was in the stories, he became a worshipper of the god of light. It was here that he read of how the Fleeing was caused by the light gods anger at the wickedness of the surface dwellers. This set Sunny on a path of justice and righteousness, to cure the world of its wrongs, and to hopefully restore the light gods favour, which would allow his people to return to the surface. He had ventured to the surface once, but all he found was desolation and nightmarish monsters. He quickly fled back to the city, and continued his service at the temple, studying the sacred texts. It is here that Sunny started his journey to become a paladin. A holy warrior, sent on a righteous cause to restore the world of the ancients, of his ancestors. He hoped he would one day be worthy to take his Oath, and lead all those who are oppressed beneath the earth back to the surface.
My first Paladin for 5e. I am playing DDAL for first time on Wednesday. I think it is going to be Tomb of Annihilation.
Gabriel Strongfoot is from a tiny halfling settlement near a small town. He as a kid while wondering the outskirts of his village found a long dead Paladin of Bahamut. He found a book about Bahamut and was inspired to learn more about Bahamut and where this guy came from. So after training for years he is now ready as a 20 year old to start his first adventure.
Based upon's everyone favorite character in The Mummy, Ardeth Bay. Mad props to Oded Fehr who protrays him - he is awesome and to this day if he turns up in something I wills top to watch it.
As well you should!
Introducing Nimaerys Moondancer, Drow Oath of the Ancients Paladin serving Eilistraee and Corellon, Acolyte background.
“I’m not one of those ‘I escaped the cruelty of the Spider Queen’s worshippers,’ or a 'I’m getting over me evil upbringing,’ or some sort of ‘I’m striving to be a good person despite me accursed origins’ edgelord, thank you very much! I’ve never even been to the Underdark!”
Nimaerys is the first-born, daughter of Yinsalor and Qilana of House Lisilme’, (which translates in the Common Tongue to “Moondancer”). Her father Yinsalor was a bard of great skill with song and sword, and her mother Qilana is a bladesinger. The drow of House Lisilme’ have venerated Eilistraee the Dark Dancer (Lady Silverhair, the Dark Maiden, goddess of song, swordwork, dancing, moonlight, and patron goddess of those drow who wish to reject the evil of Lolth and live on the surface) for generations. They are part of an enclave who, against all odds, had managed to establish a peaceful coexistence with a group of high elves and wood elves in the depths of the High Forest. The three main races of elves lived in harmony in the depths of the High Forest, a promise of what was once and could be again.
Nimaerys was deeply devoted to Eilistraee, but felt a different call to serve; it felt more like a warrior’s calling than that of a cleric like her grandmother Liastina. She eventually tutored under Yaelric Amastacia, a wood elven fey knight who had sworn an oath to protect all that is light and loving in the world. Through him, she learned much lore pertaining to the other gods of the Seldarine, as well as the gods worshipped by the other races of Faerun; along with battle skills and the ability to sense powerful goodness and strong evil.
So it was that Nimaerys wiled away the decades; enjoying revels, pranks, and trysts with high and wood elves, as well as her fellow drow, male and female alike; learning songs, lore, skill-at-arms, and dance from family and friends; all in relative peace under the moon, stars, and trees.
That was, until the Eldreth Veluuthra attacked.
This particular cell of the elf supremacist “Victorious Blade of the People” as they call themselves, in addition to viewing humans as vermin to be wiped from the face of Faerun, hated drow even more deeply than most surface elves. That the drow of Nimaerys’ home had long-ago forsaken the evil ways of Lolth was utterly irrelevant; they viewed any sort of peaceful coexistence between surface elves and their Underdark kin as an abomination. The identity of the leader of the cell is unknown, as the Eldreth Veluuthra wear ceremonial masks when carrying out their actions; but Yaelric indicated that the leader has sworn a dark oath of revenge against those who have wronged him (or her) and is referred to as Taviel Tol’Acharn, “the Bringer of Vengeance”.
The enclave was successful in driving off the attackers, but the victory was not without cost. Nimaerys’ parents bade her to make sure that her younger siblings were safe. Once their safety had been assured, Nimaerys moved to rejoin the battle. She witnessed her parents in a deadly dance, one whose lethal grace she’d never seen. Many fell before their blades and spells, until Taviel Tol’Acharn struck down Yinsalor with a blow meant for Qilana. Qilana channeled her grief into a battle fury matched by the Bringer of Vengeance. When it became clear that –while Taviel could have possibly won the duel- the attackers were overmatched, the Eldreth Veluuthra retreated.
In the aftermath of the attack, the enclave leaders decided that they would need to become nomadic, lest the Victorious Blade return in greater strength to finish their work. The grief of so much loss –loss of friends, loss of her father, loss of a sense of peace- was nearly too much for Nimaerys to bear. She was sorely tempted to call upon Shevarash the Black Archer (the elven god of vengeance and archers) and Kiaransalee the Revenancer (the drow goddess of vengeance and undeath) as she felt her heart growing cold. However, as she saw her reflection in the waters of the pond to which she had fled after a memorial for the fallen, she saw Taviel Tol’Acharn’s mask staring back at her instead of her own face. Shaken, she instead called out to Eilistraee and Corellon for strength to keep the light in her spirit from being extinguished. As she fell into exhausted reverie, rather than images of times gone by as was usual, she had strange visions of a high elf male and a drow elf female dancing, each taking on features of the other as they danced.
Nimaerys awoke from the reverie with a new surprise. Her soft, shapely curves had been replaced with the finely chiseled features of a male! Returning to the enclave, he spoke with Yaelric about his vision and what had happened. The fey knight explained to him that ever-changing Corellon sometimes sees fit to bestow a special blessing upon some elves –living symbols of the god’s love and of the primal elves fluid state of being. (In game terms, Nimaerys was given the Blessing of Corellon from MToF. After each long rest, I roll to determine gender identity [male/female/both/neither] as well as orientation [attracted to males/females/both/neither]. Alternately, Nimaerys can pray to the gods for a particular gender and/or orientation, which is up to Corellon [i.e., the DM] to approve or deny. Likewise, Corellon [i.e., the DM] may decide what gender and orientation Nimaerys presents as seen fit.)
The enclave leaders had also decided that certain of their members would roam Faerun far and wide, serving as ambassadors of the enclave, travelling forth and letting their light be a beacon to bring about the Promise of Eilistraee. With the Blessing of Corellon bestowed upon Nimaerys, he seems like a natural choice to serve as one such ambassador…
Here's my first idea for a paladin i'm planing on creating for a game coming up:
As a young man, Adrian lived a quiet and peaceful life. He had a loving family, a charming wife and two energetic children. He was a fisherman, which meant that he spent most of his time out at sea, hauling fish out of the waters and selling them with the help of his family in the nearby city.
It was a good life he had lead and, if it had been up to him, it could have continued like that for all eternity, yet fate had other plans for him.
One day, while preparing his equipment at the sea’s shores, Adrian was approached by a bunch of strange looking men in hoods. They introduced themselves as members of a local crime ring and told him that they wanted his help transporting goods in and out of the nearby cities. If he refused, he would pay with his life for his folly.
Fearing for his life (or so he told himself), Adrian agreed to the men’s conditions.
Decades passed, while he balanced his life between living peacefully with his family and working for the ring, until one day tragedy struck.
While on a mission for the ring to help deliver some forbidden substances to a far off region, their ship accidently got involved in a local power struggle and Adrian, along with most of the other survivors, was captured by one of the local warlords and was turned into a slave.
For over 20 years he was held prisoner, marked with the warlords sign burned deeply into his flesh, until he was finally set free, when he his masters believed him too old to be of any use anymore.
Using the opportunity given to him, Adrian fled back to his home, where he finally was reunited with his family.
Still, while Adrian had managed to return home, the experience had changed him. He had witnessed many horrible things during his time as the warlord’s slave, yet one picture in particular was burnt into his mind more so than any else and it wasn’t one of hardship.
The image of a man, unyielding to the terror the warlord inflicted upon them, kept flashing before his mental eye. It was the image of a man who had guided him and so many of his fellow slaves through the darkness and had inspired them, both with words of compassion, as well as his actions of courage.
The memory awed Adrian, but at the same time it deeply shamed him. He had done quite a couple of awful things while working for the ring and there before him had stood a man who despite all the horrors he had to endure over time at the hands of hs captures still cared more about his fellow prisoners than himself and had protected and guided them through their darkest hour, even as the warlord, who had grown wary of the man as a potential threat, decided to kill him in front of everyone as an example.
Adrian grabbed the amulet hanging around his neck, a memento he had managed to grab from the man’s dead body before his corpse was dragged away by his captors, as he stared into the darkness, the last word the man had spoken to him echoing to his mind:
“It is never too late to repent for one’s crimes. All you need to do is want to better yourself.”
Most likely Oath of Redemption from Xanathar's. It fits him best thematically speaking, as Adrian is mostly about repenting for your past crimes by becoming a force of good and inspiring others to help better themselves as well.
Alternatively Oath of Devotion seem to be the other most logically choice for him.
Maleviere is the name of my Tiefling Paladin who just recently swore the oath of vengeance to destroy the demon that stole his sister. He has solid silver eyes. Dark brownish tanned skin tone. Brown tuft of hair between two straight spiral horns protruding from his forehead. Short tail for a tiefling. All other features are human like.
His father's line bears the Tiefling curse and his mother died while giving birth to Mal and his twin sister Moreave. His father was never seen after his mother became pregnant and she hid the pregnancy from everyone except her twin brother, Tiernán (a priest of Selune). Mal and his sister Moreave were raised well enough by Tiernán, and taught the teachings of the church, but they were kept hidden by their uncle in an attic with a small window where they could see the moon at night. Around the age of five an oni took interest and stole Moreave away, possibly because of their Tiefling heritage, and Mal was unable to stop the devil. By ten Mal had figured a way out of their uncle's attic and was sneaking around the city of Waterdeep at night. One such evening he was caught by an old retired Knight of the Blue Moon named Agamand the True. Mal was in awe as he had read of Agamand's great deeds. He spilled his story to the paladin and Agamand returned Mal to the House of the Moon demanding to see Mal's uncle who had kept him locked away. None of the other clergy knew of Mal's existence before hand, but because of his childhood teachings and devout faith in Selune they decided to let Agamand train him as a squire. Mal has dedicated his life to finding and destroying the devil that kidnapped his sister and hopefully releasing her from it's domain. along with his holy symbol; a necklace of a crescent moon, he carries a teacup from a child’s tea set he and his sister had as kids, it is stained with his sister's blood and he prays with it in his ritual prayers every day.
Mal has recently finished duties as a squire and become a Knight of the Blue Moon in the church of Selune. He has also recently been invited to join the Grey Hands by Vajra at the tower of the black staff. Along with his newly made friends; Ulyses Von Stiplegrad, a deep gnome warlock; Bjorn, a humanish werebear barbarian; and Ivy, a human druid they own the tavern Lief's Last Resort, a tavern in the North end of Waterdeep.
As a young boy Theophilus grew up as the heir of a noble house of a triton count and countess who had made a new life for themselves on the surface world on the sword coast. They were initially sent as ambassadors so that they could open up trade and new diplomatic relations with other noble houses on the land cities and kingdoms.
Word of their arrival and influence had spread to disreputable nobility that aligned themselves with Strahd and vampire lords. One night vampire knights raided his family's estate, killing his parents and burning down his home. He was rescued last second by a group of paladins of Pelor who defeated the Vampire knights swiftly. Alone and afraid without a single asset to his name, the temple gaurdians took him to be raised and taught in the art of holy combat and devotion.
He now seeks vengence and has sworn to reclaim the inheritance that was stolen and the honor that was stripped from the House of Rayne. His method: Bring the the light into the hiding places of the dark places to extinguish the shadow. By doing so is the greatest way to protect the innocent. He has lead many successful expeditions into the cursed marches and swamps given his unique abilities within water, which famously garnered him the name" The Holy Mist" by his companions and by his foes.
My newest character; Vaa'kaa was the first time I've played a paladin, period. First appearing in Episode 7 of Battle Blood Behemoth (DMed by Kuyalaw VA). Which I (as a player) then left after Episode 21, on bitter terms. He was a lizardfolk paladin, oath of vengeance. He was basically the polar opposite of what you'd expect from a paladin. You'd usually expect palis to be brainy & charismatic, right? Well, he wasn't. He was so dumb that he could only say words that were up to 3 syllables long.
Vaa'kaa was an anthropologist of the Eikan Tribe Cluster in Idros. Not the best role, given his lack of brains. His fighting style was unorthodox, but the sheer ferocity of it was second to none. He suffered a grievous injury on a hunt that went wrong. After recovering, he felt like a failure. Leaving the tribe, he travelled as far away from them as he possibly could, hoping to end up finding the tribes' finest warrior in order to redeem himself....