I saw a post on the forums that was of many people sharing backstories of characters back in 2017, so I figured why not reignite it and see what else other people have come up with since then! Here's mine to start off:
In a world beyond the physical and spiritual planes of the Forgotten Realms known as Un Tennim, there is a small, tight-knit community known as the Darktree's Ditch. They live in a small oasis of tolerance and saftey in the middle of the Darktree Grove, a forest of deadly plants, flesh-rending predators, and mysterious evils of magical and demonic decent. The various folk of the town all work together to gather what they need to survive in their isolated bubble, where trade and fresh faces are rarely seen. It wasn't perfect, but they were content. Everyone knew everyone, and they all cared for each other no matter their race, age, or occupation.
One day, as a small band of hunters were foraging and hunting, they heard the wailing of a child near the border of the oasis. When the hunters arrived, they discovered a baby girl wrapped in black silk, decorated with outlines of yellow and symbols of red and orange. The baby was placed in between the roots of an ancient tree, one that was considered split between the dark powers of the Darktree Grove and the magic that kept Darktree's Ditch safe from the evil around it. The hunters took the baby back into town, yet no one knew who the child belonged to, and no one claimed it. After a short debate, it was decided that the baby was to be kept in custody of Roren and Aliza Toraan, a middle-aged human couple with no children of their own.
They happily took the child in, but did not give her a name at first. They claimed that she would name herself in time. Soon, after an interaction and a sudden attachment to one of Aliza's precious necklaces, they decided to call the girl Ruby due to the attraction she had to the red gemstone centerpiece of the necklace.
Roren was a powerful man. Strong, fast, quick with blades and arrows alike, and an intellect to match. He worked alongside both the hunters and the town council. He would teach Ruby how to hunt, to adapt, to be the smartest and strongest person in the room to become whoever she wanted to be.
Aliza was a true artist. She would preform for the children of town while their parents were busy chatting or hunting. She sang songs with her sweey voice, organized shows, and told stories of glory, comedy, horror, and love. However, one of her greatest skills was people. She treated everyone with kindness and cared for every person she knew. She taught Ruby about the soical part of the world. How to interact, how to earn trust, and how to be the best person she could be.
While she did learn a lot fron her foster parents, Ruby was sought to be her own person. She took the lessons and philosophies of the couple and made her own. For example, she knew wasn't the strongest around, but knew that grace and speed were far more in her favor than force. She also knew that it was important to bring a balance to soical skills and raw intelligence to lead an effective soical life. With this mindset of combining multiple ideas, she became smarter, stronger, and skilled. She was well-read too. While she didn't seem to have any ability to use it, she learned a lot about magic from reading books from the town's special library, which could access written works from all around the world. (This was done by a particular kind teleportation circle that allowed small objects as large as books between multiple locations. It was created by a wizard named Jeodo Dedi to better his research on the demons of the Abyss). Over time, she became a beautifully gifted girl known as "The Jewel of Darktree's Ditch." She could fire an arrow into a doe's eye while reciting the story of a magical artifact. Everyone in the villiage loved her and claimed that she was going to leave that small town and forge a great destiny.
Ruby was happy with her life of talent and love for all she knew. But something bugged throughout her time in the oasis village. Where did she come from? Why was she left on the border of the deadly forest? There were so many questions that couldn't be answered in her small town...Not without a little push, at least.
It was the day after her 18th birthday. After a long night of celebration, Ruby was off on her own, strolling through the green woods to clear her head. She had promised Aliza years before that she'd leave Darktree's Ditch in pursuit of her dream... but she didn't know what that dream was. She wanted to stay with the family she had grown to love over so many years, and leaving would mean leaving behind all she ever knew. Thus, Ruby's midday stroll through the oasis. She wanted to clear her head, see what the woods told her...
And what it told her caused Ruby's heart to skip a beat.
The girl took a deep breath while lying back on a rock and caught the stench of flames licking at wood coming from upwind. Where the village was. She scaled a tree and saw several pillars of black smoke, confirming her fear. Darktree's Ditch was on fire.
Ruby sprinted through the thick grove to save her town, but when she arrived she found not a fireplace gone wrong, but rather a raid by demonic creatures of unknown origin. The creatures were humanoid but various in apperance, with one hunched over and hobbling on all fours while another had arms the size of adolescent trees their only similar qualities being blackened flesh and a hunger to kill. They were tearing through the villiage and bludgeoning the people to death or bringing them to their mistress, a nine foot tall lanky woman with ripped black robes, hair as white as a blizzard, and hands as grey as a Changling's goey skin.
The she-demon would eye the captured individual before holding her hand out to them, palm out. The villiager would then squirm and scream in agony as they slowly lagged behind and ahead of reality, transforming into another demonic creature. Ruby witnessed this occur, filled with fear, guilt, and overwhelming rage before crying out and cutting through the monsterous ranks with of the invaders with blade and bow to come face to face with the demoness herself.
The fight that ensued was powerful, yet quick. After dodging and weaving several of the she-demon's attacks, Ruby was struck and flung into the rubble of the town church, her shoulders impaled by two broken wooden beams. The towering invader laughed at Ruby's foolish bravery and congratulated her on surviving as long as she did against Karena the Corruptor. As a "reward," Ruby was forced to watch her villiage get torn apart. It was then that the Jewel of Darktree's Ditch had enough.
Ruby felt a surge of power course through her body, the sound around her intensifying as her heart pulsed rapidly. Her whole body burned as she gave out a cry of rage and streaks of golden energy flew out of her body and to the invaders. The beams weaved through rubble, buildings, and streets like tendrils seeking their bew targets each time they struck a monster, transforming them back into their original forms with some being complete strangers from beyond the Darktree Grove. After all the creatures were reverted, the beams of energy converged on Karena. She screeched in agonizing defeat as she was vaporized into nothing. When the invasion ended, the beams of energy dissipated and the burning in Ruby's body ceased. She collapsed on the ground, her wounds vanished, and blacked out.
When she awoke, she saw Roren and Aliza standing over her, tears in their eyes as they were praying to every god they could think of to wake up their little girl. And after a teary hug and explination, Ruby was up and active once again mere hours after the attack ended.
The days that followed were filled with books and questions. Where did that awesome power come from? How long did she have it? How was it strong enough to defeat a demon far stronger than some human girl? Ruby scanned for answers, obsessed with the discovery she made. She even tried bringing back the power she summoned but had no success. After weeks and weeks of following leads that led to nowhere, Ruby found something that appeared promising. The province of Skale. It was said that it was populated with individuals who possessed a gift that they would not share, but was definetly magical to some extent. After doing a but more research to confirm, she decided that she would need to experience it firsthand to learn anything.
The villiage threw one last celebration in her honor before she left, giving her parting gifts to remember where she came from. Aliza gave her the necklace that earned Ruby her name. Roren had saved two special rapiers, Aku and Lumi, for her departure to remind Ruby of her belief in balance, comprimise, and versatility. The mothers of the villiage gave her speically designed clothing that matched her red aesthetic and acted as a blend of casual and adventuring clothing. The hunters gave her a longbow that had been long considered lucky. Everyone else gave her various essential equipment she needed for the journey ahead. Finally, after a teary farewell, Ruby left her little oasis and made her way to Skale.
After about a month of travelling, she came upon the provice of Skale, only to find the ruins of villiages, keeps, and it's once powerful city. She found no sign of life, the only notable discovery being a powerful longsword that had been jammed into the stone of the palace steps, the magical blade covered in dried blood. It was also strangely corroded despite it's magical properties. After that hope-shattering discovery, she delved back into books, desperate to find out what happened to the ruined city. Unfortunately, she quickly ran out of gold and supplies trying to research. To compensate, she became a traveling blade-for -hire to pay for food, bed, drink, and more books. She took many odd jobs such as escorting caravans, loading and unloading cargo from carts and ships, anything innocent that would earn her gold decent for the essentials and research.
Eventually, all of her effort paid off. Almost a year into this process, Ruby discovered that while the city of Skale fell under mysterious circumstances, there was one native of the city known to be alive: a leading knight of the city's guard named Jakk Hiperon, who was supposedly adventuring all over the world. Ruby made it her priority to find the lost knight and finally learn about who she truly was.
A few days later, she was ambushed by a fiend and sent to another world by a mysterious force. A world of floating islands held up by chains and ancient magic: Arvitxh. There, she begins her true adventures in a group of intertwining destinies: Rosam Hayward the homesick Halfing Cleric, Sylsira Aeven the startled Druidic Half-Elf, and Nowhere the mysterious Bardic Tiefling.
Thank you so much! That really means a lot! As for the art, it was done by one of my companions in my current campaign (the halfling). I always tell everyone that they make pretty pictures while I'm the one who describes them.
I sadly have no pictures of her but recently I made this new character! She's a human Cleric apart of an evil campaign (maybe more self-interested is a better word for it).
Idunna of Therese, May, Rebekka, and Selma was born in the early spring. Known by most by the name Matthew, she was raised in an all-female communal nunnery dedicated to Auril, the Goddess of winter. The commune was near the cold city of Luskan and the commune was notorious for being a cult group performing sacrifices, body mutilation, and a strict social code. The people of Luskan knew little of what the commune was like, but most people agreed that it was full of wild women, some people would even say commune was abusive to their followers. She grew up with roughly two-hundred other women in communal longhouses in a small plateau on the side of a mountain. The recluse society was made up of women who would take up past Matriarch’s name in addition through there own. The only time they socialized with men was for reproducing more members, and if the woman gave birth to a son he would be used a sacrifice to the Frostmaiden. The commune was, for the most part, self-sufficient and would sell timber from the mountains to Luskan to sell. The tree would be cut off the branches for firewood for inns, pubs, houses, etc- and the body of the tree would be attached to a sled and brought to the docks to create boats.
As a young girl, Matthew was raised with the other girls by Caregivers of her commune. Matthew knew of her maternal blood (Mother) and ancestor (Grandmother) but they weren’t the ones who raised her. The commune has no familial titles or romantic ones either. Words like “Mother”, “Marriage”, “Sibling”, etc do not exist. Instead, the sisterhood wanted children to be raised seeing the commune as a whole as a unified group and blood and romantic relationships were divisive. Matthew didn’t realize she had an older kin born of the same woman (sister) until she six when she learned of an Elise of Therese, May, Rebekka, and Selma. She was so happy she clung to her rosemåled dress and hugged the older teen until one of the elders ripped her off and punished her harshly for such attention. Their concern was that having familial relationships would fail to appropriately teach the child the communal fundamentals. She was then told she wasn’t allowed to talk to her ‘kin by blood’, and would only see her in passing with the older age group.
At times Matthew would try to sneak a small smile at her or wave, in hopes that her the elder of the two knew she was sorry. To this day she still kicks herself for acting so carelessly as a child and likes to imagine if she was allowed to be friends with her relative. Because she was scared of what would happen if she was too close with her own maternal blood, she stopped sleeping next to her and joined the older girls in shared furs the children slept in. She was praised by the adults for cutting off this attachment and said that it would make her a stronger member of the commune and church.
The peers she had all did scripture studies together, prayed together, did chores and ate together. Over time she did manage to get over her kin weakness and began to truly thrive in the community. She flourished in the commune and loved living her life for the glory of her Goddess by making sacrifices and celebrating holidays. While they cut down trees they sang hymns for Auril and at the dining tables would chant and bang on the tables. When Matthew got older she realized that she had a wonderful gift that was rare of the other nuns or laypeople had in her community. She was then raised as a Cleric for her soul had a ‘fighting spirit about it’ and the commune thought it would be wise to use her faith to defend the commune.
Once she was roughly 19 years of age, she had a coming of age ritual. To prove that Matthew was dedicated to her Goddess, she agreed to allow that her wisdom teeth were pulled out as a gift. She threw them into the cracks of an iced-over river. For her sacrifice, she was then given a set of golden teeth there were implanted into her mouth were her old teeth once were.
This was Matthew's first and only gift.
Once given her rite of passage, she, like other members were allowed to wander the world. She could choose to stay in the outside world forever or go back home. She was stripped of her commune name and choose the name. “Matthew”. Matthew of course at the time didn’t realize there was even a difference between male and female names but it stuck with her anyway. She would only be given back her true name onlyif she returned.
Matthew was at first scared of a lot of the outside world but got over this fear and some could say the Cleric is a little too trusting of people. She still continues following the nunnery's teachings and likes to form friendships with people she meets. Despite her unconventional upbringing, Matthew is a very bubbly and sweet young lady. It’s safe to say she wouldn’t be back home in a while…. Or perhaps not at all.
Really cool set of post so far, hopefully I can add to it. This is the Backstory of Shirlay Vymeanian, a character that I'm currently playing in Curse of Strahd, with the last session being next week.
Remlay El Vymeanian Hollowin Sarralon, The Fair and True Heir, the man who will reunite the struggling, war-torn, city-states of Chessenta. So why did I follow him? Why did I raise my blade at his word? Why did I shed blood in his name? Because he gave me my own name and a use for this weapon.
The 8th of Kythorn, a day to be remembered throughout Chessenta. A day of joyous celebration and wonder, as the waring country joined together in the capital city, Cimbar. Noble factions, for once in many years, conveined in lost traditions, alien to the younger generations that held many court seats. One of which was to bring together these old families, and reform old bonds once again to strike at a once in a lifetime chance. As many notable families, nobles, merchants, and mercenary bands alike, knew that throughout the long unending Civil War, House Sarralon, nobles of old blood, and the first to rule the Chessentian throne, were likely to retake the throne once again and reunite Chessenta if things were to go as planned. But many Houses wished to keep their city-states independent. And so, a coup was whispered between many men and women of power for months before the 8th of Kythorn, and The Twilight Massacre of Cimbar was a night etched in history thenon. As the streets ran with Sarralon blood, other Houses found an opportunity to strike out at their rivals and new allies. Setting the war-torn country years back in progress and success in reuniting itself, on a day that should have stopped ceaseless bloodshed across Chessenta that began with a reason lost to it. But the Sarralon bloodline would continue and live on. As the last of the line Remlay El Vymeanian Hollowin Sarralon, lived and escaped the drenched streets of Cimbar and made his way to the nearby town of Luthcheq.
I fear that for years I had no name, I had no home, I had no objective. For as long as I could remember I had no one beside me as I lived and survived in this treacherous world, as I awoke in a decrepit, demolished home, with my small weak body In my early years of this life, I would be shunted away for my strange behavior, and pushed to the side for my odd passions. Human society, and those that inhabited it would soon burn a hatred in my heart for my kind and their actions. There was no love in those days, and I would not seek the love of others. I soon took myself far away, and wandered these lands before me for a purpose. I scoured far and wide, learning a few things from those who would be willing to teach, for something in return. I learned how to fight with a multitude of weapons, how to surmise the land before me, and how to stay out of sight and blend with those around me. As I used these skills to survive, I found myself feeling a power surge forth from myself. As I soon could recall my weapon to myself, and produce mystic light from my fingertips. For what this entails for myself, I did not care, and I still do not. But I now keep this new found power to myself.
As I controlled this “Magic”, it was obvious that people would distance themselves and move cautiously around me. Speaking callus things as my back was turned. Something else that burned a bright violent flame in my heart, my kinds deceit. This would happen occasionally, but when it occurred, I knew it was time to leave. But eventually this phenomenon began to happen more frequently, and eventually I found myself overhearing some individuals speaking about me, and calling myself an Illegal Mage. To which the following weeks were labored with my escape from the region I was currently in Thay. A kingdom that was known for its Red Wizards and Authoritarian law. As the strong ruled, and the capable were bound in chain for forced work and labor. A term called “Slavery”. This did not seem too enticing. And I soon found myself in another country, amongst another kind of people, where blood would constantly feed the nearby hills and fields, and where no one truly cared about who you were. A place where I would slowly find my place, my home, Chessenta.
I quickly found myself in a small rural village of Luthcheq, andI quickly surmised that something was amiss. As it seemed that all of the inhabitants of this village were gathered in the square nearby. And atop a recently built platform, was a man wrapped on a wooden stake. With golden hair that fell long, a ruined tabard caked with blood, and eyes that I have only heard in comparison to mine: “Like an extinguished flame”. I looked on in curiosity, and I awaited for this event to unfold. As a large man walked upon this stage with regal attire and a large scroll in hand, they unravelled it, and red aloud: “I present, Remlay El Vymeanian Hollowin Sarralon, found in the outskirts of this fair Luthcheq, running and escaping lawful justice for conspiring against the rest of the Chessentian court, and causing unforgivable bloodshed throughout Cimbar. To which this Remlay quickly shouted out in retort: “My family was known to only want peace and unification across our divided country! Why would we ever do something like this?! There were then murmurs, shouts, and objects thrown about in anger and upset aggression, and this Remlay quickly silenced and drowned out under this overwhelming aggression. Eventually this scroll was finished as the crowd let out its last fits of anger, and to no one’s surprise Remlay El Vymeanian Hollowin Sarralon was to die the following sunrise, and would rest upon his post and pray to whatever god he could. The crowd slowly dispersed after shouting slurs at the man for a short while. But when the sun set, and the guards watching this man thinned, I was still there. Staring into those solemn eyes and half dead form that had no more energy to fight. I was waiting for something, any hint of resistance, of will, and when I began to realize that the sun would rise soon enough, my anger boiled over. I darted through this square with a wild rush of violent anger and adrenaline, cutting down the unaware men that were unlucky enough to be guarding this man before a scream or shout could be heard. Even when the last of these men slide off my blade, I still had my eyes locked onto this Remlay, and in that moment his eyes finally looked into mine, and I saw for a moment, the spark of a roaring flame, then it was gone again.
“Do you wish to live? Remlay? Or do you wish to die here, burned on a post?” He looked puzzled by my words for a moment, and replied quietly “Whose House do you crest from Knig-” “I have no name of my own, nor do I crest from some house” I muttered through gritted teeth as I leaped to the top of the wooden platform. And as I stared into those accused eyes he whispered “I have no title to give, no gold, no reward, nothing to offer but my gratitude and favor from here on if you assist me” “So you wish to live?” “Yes” In the few silent moments after, as I heard faint bells and shouts ring throughout the lazy village of Luthcheq, I could see the burning passion within those eyes once more, and by the time the sun arose, and a patrol came by the toppled and cut post, we were long gone.
Days, weeks, months, and maybe even years past by as the two of us would journey together, and build a small band of our own. The Ebony Tears, a guerrilla/mercenary band of men and women who fought for a untied Chessenta, and would do anything to achieve that. Eventually we gained notoriety, and with Remlay El Vymeanian Hollowin Sarralon, The Fair and True Heir leading us, many people joined our ranks for the dream we had. I eventually had a place to call home, a goal, an objective to reach for and follow, and a name Shirlay Vymeanian. A name given to me by Remlay, a man of which that I very much so respect now. And a title to go along with it, Black Rose, a title that our soldiers gave me, for my finesse in combat, and what they call my thorny attitude.
But as the years moved past and we reached closer to achieving our dream each day, a frightful day more recently came along. As The Ebony Tears made way through the countryside, we were ambushed by an unknown assailant. As they hailed metal projectiles into us, we were scattered, and were forced to split up and retreat. When I turned to assess my comrades that were right behind me just a few moments ago, they were gone, and I found myself in a vastly different terrain that I had never laid my eyes on before. As I called out for my comrades, there was no one within earshot, and as I heard the forest nearby call back in anger, I rushed forward, for the chance of seeing my lost allies.
When Jack (currently traveling under the surname Turner) was a young man, he worked as a courier, mostly moving back and forth through a war zone. His skills at gathering information and his perfect recall led to his being recruited by an information broker, to specifically gather everything he could about the shifting political situation and which rich and powerful people could be... useful.
He fell in love with his new employer's son, with whom he planned to elope, and the two started putting together the money they would need for a new life together. Let us just say, he didn't fall in love with the boy for his brains or planning ability-- not long after they struck out, hoping to get away from the war and to settle down safely, Jack found himself a wanted man, on charges of theft and kidnapping, given that he'd disappeared from his employer's house with his son and a not insignificant amount of personal wealth.
Before they could return and set things straight, his common-law husband was kidnapped for real, leaving Jack with no real recourse but to live outside the law while seeking any information about his missing love. He picked up more of the skills he'd need as a rogue, and now his plan is to hook up with adventuring parties that will allow him to travel farther than he could safely do alone, while he searches.
Derpygrrr had a great life growing up.A loving family with lots of gold and the best education.He joined a Druids circle at the behest of his mother who was secretly enjoying the company of the Archdruid.He was a clumsy but smart young lad.
Derpygrrr is a short and stout dwarf, smaller than normal at just under 4 feet.Derpygrrr has dichromatic eyes, left eye blue, right eye brown.His few friends also thought at first it was a birth mutation, but it was really a rather, umm, interesting accident.
One day while in the garden, Derpygrrr was transforming back from the form of a rat into his natural dwarfish form when a cat jumped on him and dug his teeth into his skin.The cat had been a part of him during the transformation.Derpygrrr was now nimbler, more perceptive and had a spry feeling like he could climb and jump with ease.
Derpygrrr tried many times to change forms and revert but could never split himself from the damned cat.While the new agility, balance and spring in his step was great there was a dear cost.Derpygrrr would exhibit some feline idiosyncrasies at rather unfortunate times.
Derpygrrr shunned the Druid’s Circle when they couldn’t help, and found uses for his new found skills.He liked to break into nobles houses and eat their food and cause mischief, often looking around to try to find incriminating things about people for his own amusement.
Derpygrrr was bored and wanted some meaning in his life; more than just be a creepy miscreant and that is when he met ….
I'm very very new here and this is my first character! ((Also I have no idea how elf-ages work, so I avoided specific numbers)
When her village was raided as a young child, she was lost as her family and friends fled the land to greener pastures, tragically forgetting one of their own. With the century old houses that the Wood Elf community once called home completely destroyed, there were assumed to be no survivors left after the 50 or so escaped the raids. Left alone she traveled through the lands for a short while until stumbling upon the bustling port of ( insert port name here ) where a friendly gnome man took her in. The elven girl was so tired and malnourished from her unfortunate beginning that she didn't protest or speak as he wrapped her in a blanket and brought her to his ship.
Things went considerably better from that point on. Usually children being taken onto mysterious boats by unknown men is a recipe for misfortune, but for the elven girl it was as good as it could be. The crew, led by Ronro Targren, was a group of 35 gnomes, they gave her the name Parsley in a poor attempt to replicate an elvish name, but mainly focused on her as a person. They taught her how to navigate bodies of water, how to tie the ships' lines, they told her stories of sea monsters they had (probably) defeated, and storms that had definitely happened. Ronro's was a thriving business; mainly delivering items up and down the coast for considerable coin. They operated out of a 70' schooner, named the Blue Loon. Because the crew (excluding Parsley) was so small and needed less supplies for their journeys, margins were great. When she got a little older they demonstrated how to knock someone out with a belaying pin (which is, for a gnome, a 2 handed weapon) and she took to using two to practice defense and attacks. On stormy days she challenged herself to climb higher in the rigging of the Loon, jumping from mast to swaying mast. The deck of a delivery ship wasn't the conventional place for a girl to grow up, but her she was. Crushing it.
Years came and went and opportunities to leave her rag-tag gnome family appeared and dissolved. There was never a set reason for her to leave, other than a gut feeling for her roots and a desire to eat something other than fish. With a heavy heart and eyes set on solid ground, Parsley hugged Ronro goodbye and shakily stepped onto the pier. The crew unloaded their shipment onto the docks and one by one gave Parsley a sick hi-five. She watched the Deep Loon sail over the horizon with a promise to meet again.
Flint was raised in a frontier township of a human province next to an elvish kingdom. Because of this, the township had many half-elves and humans living together with a few elves also. Due to the racial make up of his community he didn't suffer racism that could have arose from his mixed race parentage. He grew up in a family that logged the woods nearby for the good of the human province he lived in. They didn't harvest enough trees to be considered a problem for the elves, so there were good relations among all. However, his parents realized that some of the (5) children would need to take up other professions and he was apprenticed to a blacksmith in the town (his family lived in a cabin close to the trees, not in town).
He was a reliable and studious apprentice gaining the respect of the family he lived with and even attracted the notice of the Magistrate that ruled the province. As an apprentice blacksmith he learned about blacksmithing (for farmers and such) and about making fixtures and tools, making some weapons and "working gadgets." He learned about taking care of animals, because this was one of his other duties, and developed a strong frame carrying water and other laborious duties. His relationship with his master smith was always very good but his master recognized that he was not bound to become a journeyman smith. Because of this he spoke to the Magistrate to see if it were possible to get him a position in the court or as a squire or something.
When the magistrate said he would help in this matter, the master went to speak to Flint's father about it. Flint's father said he would allow it if it was what Flint wanted. Then the master and Flint's father spoke to Flint about the prospect of taking up a new life apart from either logging or smithing. Flint did confess that he had dreamed of becoming a scout or ranger where he could live in the wilderness. His father cautioned him that such a pursuit could be difficult if he were to have a family. Flint said he would find some way to make it work. And so, at the age of sixteen Flint was sent to the Magistrate to become a scout for the army.
Now there was little need for a scout in this province; things had been peaceful for generations. But the commander of the small detachment took him up and began training him to become a part of the army and tried to find ways to give him the secluded wilderness training he would need to support himself without supplies. He was attentive as a soldier to his training, but now he experienced his first taste of racism. The army was made up almost exclusively of men and some thought there should not be mixed races. Flint was likeable enough that his experiences were only a few offhand comments or racial jokes. He was well respected by enough men that nobody ever tried to hurt him and damage his property over it.
Ironically, he ended up getting his best wilderness training operating on the border with the elves. They initially spied on him and he only had a feeling he was being watched. But he was sent to stay in the woods for days at a time and return with a report of his observations, so he did his best. Then one evening a severe storm came up and Flint was doing his best to shelter from the worst of it. The elves knew it was quite a severe storm so a group of four elves descended on him and all but kidnapped him to spirit him away to their own shelter for his protection. They took care of him and taught him their ways of living in the wood. They taught him how to find food, trap and hunt, track animals and men alike, read signs of nature and be a friend to animals. They taught him to make rope, arrows, bows and bow strings and how to make and work with leather. In all these things like his several other pursuits he studied and practiced to become a capable woodsman and scout. But most especially they taught him to use the bow unlike the manner of men. He was taught to nock an arrow and bring it up to firing position in a single motion. He was taught how to read the strength of the wind, how to adjust for firing up or down from his height and how to lead a moving target. And he practiced all these things with vigor and enthusiasm.
The initial training experience he received from the elves was for four days before he returned to the men at the camp. He gave such a report of his activities they sent him often to the elves for more training. And it became a cycle that he would share some of what he learned from the elves with the men. Upon his twentieth birthday, the magistrate called for him to account for his training. His father and his blacksmith master were there along with the captain. The magistrate was so impressed he asked the young man what he would like to do in the service of the King. Flint replied that he would like to attend the formal Ranger school so he might put his skills to use for the province and the kingdom. The magistrate said he would do this if Flint would first serve a formal three-year enlistment. Ranger school was expensive and the magistrate said he would have the cost covered if he would serve the army of the province. Flint agreed and his future was set for many years to come.
He served the army and was promoted to be a high level sergeant because of his diligence. Some men didn't care for this as they believed they had earned promotions having served longer than Flint. The old racist remarks were once again being heard from time to time. One day after a long period of tough training his unit was given leave to enjoy some R&R in the town. A group of soldiers were getting drunk in the tavern at a table near Flint and one of them stood up and yelled something particularly offensive at Flint about his parentage. Flint stood up and indicated that the man's friends should take him home before it went further. One of them objected to this and it quickly came to blows. Flint, being outnumbered, had to fight for his life for the drunken men were unable to control themselves having been embarrassed Flint was able to pull rank on them. In their sad state they were determined to show that he might have the authority of rank over them but he couldn't back it up. Flint had to prove them wrong.
Not being drunk to excess, Flint was able to fight off the first attack, but this made the men angrier. He fought off another and things became worse. The men showed they would take him two or three to one. Others stepped in and it became a brawl. A man in the middle trying to stop the fight by keeping the soldiers back was seriously hurt and Flint had seen enough. He grabbed something he could use as a club and knocked three men to the ground breaking their bones. A man approached Flint from the blind side and knocked him to the ground. He raised a tankard to strike Flint in the head and Flint had to react. He rolled and got to his knees. Flint shot out his leg and caught the man in the knee causing it to buckle. He then grabbed something and swung at the man as he collapsed catching him in the head and killing him. The sound was heard throughout the tavern, a dull thud as the man's skull broke and his heavy frame slammed into the floor. There was a moment of silence as Flint rolled back to sit and stare at the man.
This cast a pall over the whole tavern. Flint stood up and looked around for the soldiers. He indicated to two of the men to take care of the three wounded soldiers. He indicated to another that he wanted him to guard the door and have everyone stay put. And he indicated to two other men that the three of them needed to report immediately to the Captain of the Guard. And they left at once.
Reporting to the Captain, he heard Flint's account and sent a band of soldiers and an officer to the tavern. They assessed the situation and attended to the wounded men. They spoke with the bartender and several witnesses including four soldiers not seriously hurt. They arrested Flint and brought him back to the barracks. He was placed on room confinement under guard so the matter could be sorted out.
Two important men were sent to the province by the Governor to judge the matter. The witnesses that accused Flint were discredited under the influence of magic to reveal the truth and some men were transferred while others were jailed or discharged and sent away. Flint was also sent away, early by three months, to attend Ranger school.
Upon graduation he received a note from the Magistrate, one from the Governor, one from the smith, one from the Captain of the guard and finally one from his father. They all wished him the very best and offered to support him in their own way. His father went on at length to say how proud he was of him. But all the letters said one thing together, that he shouldn't come back to the province because some folks would never believe he had been punished for killing a man in spite of the investigation and hearing. Flint was a Ranger and he was now on his own.
Vrenic Shadowsouled - Half Elf - Blade Pact Old One Warlock
As a child in the forests of his fathers tribe Vrenic loved to explore, wandering often into the forbidden depths of the ancient land. He felt remote and removed from his fathers people, the Wood Elves, preferring his own company. The Elves in turn treated Vrenic with tolerant indifference, showing neither true affection nor scorn or hate.
On one of his wanderings he found an ancient hollow tree in the depths of the Nimen Dieve, a region that all of the community avoided, but an area that seemed to draw Vrenic. Perhaps this was due to the isolation and loneliness that seemed a reflection of his situation, or perhaps simply because it was forbidden
As Vrenic ventured into the vast darkness that was contained within the ancient, somehow still living tree, he felt a presence, a fell majesty, that seemed to reach towards him from deep witin the darkness. He turned to flee, but fell before he reached the exit, remembering nothing of what came after
The Wood Elves found him after several days searching, a silent, gaunt figure stumbling through the woodlands, tears spilling down his face and deep scratches in strange patterns all over his body.
They took him to his home. He lay silent and still, only moving when gently prodded by his caretakers. On the seventh day he sat bolt upright and he screamed like a thing bereft of hope and sanity. His adopted family and Father came running into the room to find his half sister huddled by the door and Vrenic sleeping peacefully for the first time since he had been found. When he woke from this sleep he had no memory of anything from after he had turned to flee the reaching darkness of the great hollowed tree until this awakening, a blank in his mind that covered those many days
In the following years he appeared to be fully healed and whole, though all noted a shadowed aspect that had not been there before. Both he and the people of the forest searched, but none could find the ancient tree. No one truly doubted his story, for all could see the changes and view the pattern of scars that covered all save his face and the palms of his hands. He took to wrapping his body in lengths of cloth to cover these markings, for they seemed to cause discomfort in all who viewed them for any length of time
He stayed for a time, but the desire to wander grew, growing stronger as he matured. Vrenic felt driven to find out what had happened on that fateful day so long in his past. As his majority approached he prepared, knowing he would leave his home. The night before leaving, a vision came, a dark portent of a future of terror and unnatural dread. He knew he must stop this dark future from coming, and found within himself a new and terrifying power, drawn from an unknown source.
Vrenic left the village, driven by his visions to find the truth of his power and a path away from the terror he knew lay in the coming days
I'd like some thoughts on this one... My DM wants to do a one-shot with new characters. I've been fascinated with the Githyanki since I first laid my hands on the Fiend Folio in 1981.
I have only played AD&D back in the 80's, and jumped back in to 5e last year. And, the the Gith are a playable race! So, I thought, what better time would I have to play one of them? Don't have any real details of the campaign, or what level, but I decided to go with an Eldritch Knight, because, of course... never played one of those, either.
Ma'arwola'ith (basically, the Welsh word for 'death.' seemed appropriate...)
I'm imagining him with an eye patch and wicked scars, probably as a result of a battle that left him with amnesia. I think that's maybe the best way for a creature that's almost NEVER a solitary adventurer to end up in whatever party we're made of. He will probably suffer from flashbacks, and recurring memories, but be fairly self-involved and, well, Chaotic Evil.
That sounds pretty interesting! A one-shot actually sounds like a good way to experiment with the character and potentially prepare him for a full campaign! Maybe even turn him into an enemy NPC!
I'm not sure how to share my characters' backstories. I use a combination of Description/Appearance for visual first impression, Notes/Other for traits that require further observation and interaction before others discover those traits, and Notes/Backstory for the experiences that shaped the characters traits - traits being personality quirks in addition to appearances that are not immediately evident. The three of them work in concert for my characters in the progression of Appearance (quick observation), Other (detailed observation), and lastly, Backstory (obtained only by conversation). This is in addition to the Description/Characteristics and Description/Personality Traits which are also gleaned from observation or direct conversation.
The backstories deliberately have gaps to be filled by DM discretion if a DM chooses to do so. The gaps are most often in the form of the characters' singular viewpoint of events that do not give a complete picture or understanding of the events. I write the backstory always only from the characters' sphere of awareness. I also often pepper the text with ((OOC)) explanations that deal with specific rules, and will use the 3rd person to refer to the character in OOC.
I also have this habit of writing in the 2nd person, as if to give the player (me) instructions on being the character.
For example (not currently part of any of my characters):
"You have a short but wide vertical scar easily visible on the left side of your neck," in the Appearance description - being immediately noticeable without any interaction - with
"You have a fear of heights and open ground," with "You have several scars near your shoulders on your front and back that are almost identical to the one on your neck," both in Other notes - both requiring further scrutiny if opportunities arise such as being nervous in open areas or an exposed shoulder showing the extra scars - with
"At the age of 20 ((considered to be young for ____'s race)), you were returning from the market when a large bird snatched you from the ground—its claws digging into your shoulders. From your vantage beneath your captor, the creature was just a huge, black silhouette against the noonday sun. ..." in the Backstory notes - being a story to be told to trusted fellows.
This also leaves open the possibility that the young character misidentified what had grabbed him/her depending on how that particular events unfolds from the character's interpretation of things.
I adhere to this method rather neurotically. I don't know how I should format them for a single all-encompassing reading.
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Human. Male. Possibly. Don't be a divider. My characters' backgrounds are written like instruction manuals rather than stories. My opinion and preferences don't mean you're wrong. I am 99.7603% convinced that the digital dice are messing with me. I roll high when nobody's looking and low when anyone else can see.🎲 “It's a bit early to be thinking about an epitaph. No?” will be my epitaph.
Born in the Dalelands in the decade prior to the Spellplague, Ellara is a young Moon Elf. During the tumultuous years following the death of Mystra, Ellara’s family sought refuge in Waterdeep. She learned the arts of battle from her father and dabbled in arcane secrets from her bard mother. As she reached the age of majority, a family friend (Janzia the Silverblade) allowed Ellara to accompany her on several trips around the Sword Coast on a series of courier duties. Ellara handled herself well in encounters with orc raiders and bandits, causing Janzia to train her in the lore and ways of a Harper. After 2 winters of training and travel, Janzia sent Ellara across the sea to the Moonshae Isles. The Harper network is small there, but many Harper leaders see the isles at a crucial crossroads. With instructions to keep an eye on the state of Amn’s colonies in the isles (and frustrate the mercantile nation’s expansion designs if possible), Ellara has come to the court of the High King as a foreign mercenary.
Ellara was spoiled by her upbringing, since her parents made a good living as instructors in sword and spell. Her travels with Janzia were typically quite comfortable as the eldritch knight was quite highly placed among the Harper elite. Consequently, rough travels and shoddy accommodations are abhorrent to Ellara. She is resourceful and observant, but prefers direct action to subterfuge in her personal plans. She embraces change for its own sake, believing that change provides opportunities for bettering everyone’s circumstances. She is dogged in her pursuit of her goals and unswerving loyal to her cause and her companions. In battle, Ellara prefers bow to blade but is more than able to hold her own.
My DnD OC Daniel the Human Monk Daniel is human monk. He is a twelve year boy with average height and average weight. He has milk chocolate hair and has sapphire eyes. He has fair skin and freckles. He has a scar on his right cheek from a monster attack. Daniel was orphaned when he was just a baby. He was found by a half-orc monk couple who found him in a basket near the river. The couple fell in love with him and decide to adopt him. Daniel lives and works at the family’s tavern/inn. He lives his adopted half-orc parents and has a younger half-orc sister who is four years old. His father taught his own style to him, the art without form.(Jeet Kune Do)His mother taught him how to harness and to manipulate chi. He is also efficient with nunchucks. He also has a half-orc grandfather,two half-orc aunts on his adopted mother side and an older half orc cousin and a younger half-orc cousin. Daniel is shy but hard-working young boy. He enjoys training with his father and exploring. He also enjoys playing with his baby sister. Daniel is also a great cook too and can play the lyre. Daniel enjoys a good fight so he would often ask the customers of the tavern to fight him so he can test himself. This would often ends up with many customers been beaten up which results in them staying at the inn longer to heal and in turn they would have to pay extra to stay so it’s a win win for Daniel’s family. Daniel has a love for sheep and he would always pet them if he ever saw one. Daniel can be a sore loser and will sometimes cry if he loses a fight but his mother always told “There is no shame in losing a fight, but shame when you do not learn from it.” Daniel dreams of going adventures to see the world and fighting strong fighters but his parents won’t allow it. Daniel Stats STR:16 DEX:18 CON:16 INT:12 WIS:18 CHAR:12 Weapons Light Hammer,Darts Tools Cook’s Utensils, Lyre Language Common, Minotaur, Orc
Well, out of the few characters I have, one of my favorites is a Tiefling Ranger named Xena. She never met her real father until much later in life, because most of her first memories were with her human parents, her father being the mayor of the town they lived in. She lived a somewhat peaceful life from the time she was an infant to the time she was 6 years old. Her father trained her on how to shoot an arrow and handle a bow. By the time she was five years old, she could hit a bulls eye nine times out of ten. But, things started to get ugly as she started school. She was exposed to the true cruelty Tieflings face and mass amounts of racism every day. Parents started rioting at her dad's house and yelling at him to make her leave, even kill her. Eventually, he had no choice but to throw her out, for the safety of the rest of his family. She lived on her own in the forest with nothing but the bow she's had since she was little, the one thing she has a bond with, wandering from town to town, stealing and pick pocketing just to survive.
Backstory for a Half Orc Fighter named Urzuk Goldsbane:
Son to a camp follower and raised in military barracks and on the field of battle, Urzuk has been a warrior and a soldier all his life. This all changed when his company was crushed in a great battle due to the foolishness of his captain and the stubborn soldiers following orders blindly. On the eve of battle Urzuk and his company were to hold a bridge at all costs. The bridge however was weak, its supports old and failing. Urzuk attempted to reason with his captain that they should avoid fighting on the bridge itself but was ignored.
During the height of battle Urzuk heard a scream from behind and saw that an archer had fallen forward, knocking over a brazier used for lighting arrows. Moving quickly Urzuk rushed back and pulled the man out of the fire but was too late to save him. In a panic Urzuk attempted to kick the brazier over the edge and into the canyon but he made things worse by spilling hot coals and tar along the wood and rope bridge. Suddenly the bridge was aflame, and his men were stuck between a roaring fire and a blood thirsty enemy. Many charged forward and were cut down, some attempted to rush back and put out the fire. Alas the bridges supports burned and any who still stood on the bridge fell to their deaths. Urzuk was an outcast, hated by his comrades and forced to flee in the night before they decided to put him to death.
Urzuk now travels the world looking to absolve himself of the guilt he feels for his past mistakes, and wishes to experience life as an explorer taking odd jobs, rather than a soldier. He seeks freedom, and the power and strength to protect those he cares about in the future. He will take no master he sees as foolish or corrupt, and refuses to speak about the day he caused the death of those he knew as comrades, brothers and friends.
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Gained the moniker "Goldsbane" when he accidentally dropped a chest of the companies gold into a flowing river of lava.
Hi everyone. This is the backstory of Declan Whitethorn, my newly created 1st level Human Rogue I'll be playing in Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus in the coming weeks. Hope you like it.
Declan, called Whitethorn by some, was sold into slavery as a child. He was born to a northern family and captured by slavers when his birth father’s trading caravan was attacked en route to Calimshan. He was sold to a kind Tiefling named Malrius who was a midlevel noble of Calimshan and several years later revealed himself to be the leader of the Thieves Guild there in secret. Malrius purchased Declan on impulse. There was something he saw in his face, a look of hope and humor, but no fear, in spite of what must have been a terrifying experience being captured and jailed by slavers. He had no need for a new slave, much less a child so he decided he would raise Declan alongside his daughter. Aralith who was of a similar age and was kept sheltered and homeschooled for her safety was lonely for lack of playmates or friends so a permanent slave to keep her company seemed like a good idea.
Over time Declan grew to love Malrius and Aralith and considered them his family in spite of his station as a slave. Malrius came to love Declan as well and considered him his son in all but name and title. He saw in Declan the talent and mind of a future leader and possible heir to Guild leadership. To hone those abilities, when Declan grew old enough, Malrius divulged that he was the secret head of the Thieves Guild in Calimshan. He sent Declan to apprentice as a Faction Agent of the Guild to represent him in minor deals and negotiations so Malrius’ public identity could be protected. There Declan was trained in the ways of subterfuge, guile, diplomacy, and knife fighting. He had a particular talent for knife fighting and was soon recognized as one of the best. He became known among the Guild as Whitethorn, the pale-skinned boy you never saw until you were stuck.
During Declan’s time of apprenticeship, Aralith was sent to a finishing school. She wasn’t aware of Malrius’ secret second life as the leader of the Thieves Guild either, but she knew he was rich and powerful among the nobles of Calimshan and she expected to inherit that money and power someday. As Malrius’ heir, she assumed he was sending her to this school to prepare her for taking on the role of head of a noble house someday. But while there she was deceived by a demon who convinced her that Malrius had grown to love Declan more than her and had secretly decided to adopt Declan and name him his heir. He cast spells of scrying and foretelling showing her visions of the future in which Malrius was signing documents of adoption naming Declan his son and his heir. The visions were true but incomplete. The demon kept from Aralith the knowledge that the heir they referred to was heir to Malrius’ position within the Guild, not heir to his Noble house. The demon told her that Malrius had actually sent her to this school to learn how to behave like a proper noble’s wife because he planned to marry her off to another noble house to strengthen his status among the nobility and to gain access to new avenues of profit for his business concerns. Under the demon’s influence and lies she began to despise her father and Declan. The demon convinced her that she needed to return home quickly and kill her father before Declan’s adoption was complete and while she was still his heir. She had no hope of getting away with the murder of such a powerful man she told the demon. At that, he sprung his trap. He offered to make a pact with Aralith granting her the power to succeed.
Using the powers the demon gave her she returned home in secret. She found her father and Declan sparring with daggers as they often did. While cloaked in invisibility she watched them as they laughed and joked. The obvious love and affection between them spurred on her fury even more and she could take no more. Before they could react to her appearance she bound them with magic so they could not move or speak. She cast a second spell compelling Malrius to speak only the truth then asked him if it was true that he planned to adopt Declan and make him his heir. Bound by the spell, Malrius could only say yes, as it was true though not in the way Aralith believed. Then, taking Declan’s precious white dagger (a gift from Malrius that many knew of) she stabbed her father repeatedly leaving the dagger in his heart with her final blow. Tears flowed down Declan’s face as he was forced to watch helplessly.
Finally, she turned to Declan and said with dripping malice in her voice,
“You better run little heir. I think I hear a cry of MURDER being raised and an alarm being sounded. The guard will soon see the bloody body of my beloved father with your well-known knife in his heart. Oh, what a SLAVE will do to escape to freedom.”
With that she began to scream “MURDERER! HELP!” Declan, suddenly finding himself released, ran. He escaped through a secret tunnel Malrius had shown him and he hoped was unknown to Aralith. He fled to a safe-house that only he knew of and hid out there while things cooled off.
While in hiding he tried to understand what had happened. Why had his sister killed their father in cold blood and framed him for the murder? Why did she believe that Malrius was adopting Declan and making him his heir? Why had Malrius answered Yes when asked if it was true? He had to find out the truth.
When the manor seemed calm again he snuck back in through the secret tunnel. He silently made his way to Malrius’ room. Listening at the door he heard the sounds of crying and someone chanting sorrowfully, “No, no, no, no.” Then he heard the sound of tearing paper followed by footsteps coming toward the door. Quickly he hid. From the shadows, he watched as the door opened and a distraught Aralith stumbled out sobbing in tears. She clutched some papers to her chest but he couldn’t tell what they were. When she was gone he crept into the room. There on his bed lay Malrius. His body was dressed in his finest clothes in obvious preparation for his funeral pyre. Beside his body on the bed lay a book. Declan took the book and upon opening it saw that it was Malrius’ personal journal.
He began reading and wasn’t surprised to find that most of it was filled with a doting father’s declarations of pride and joy for his beloved daughter. He wrote often of his fears and hopes for her future. Nothing was written about marrying her off to expand his influence and power. It was clear he intended her to inherit his noble title upon his death along with the estate and all the prestige and trappings that came with it. Within the book was found the occasional passage referencing his position in the Thieves Guild but not often. It was clear that the writer considered that part of his life to be of lesser importance than his family.
As he reached the later pages Declan found many references to him and the pride and affection Malrius felt for him. But for every statement of love and praise for Declan there were multiples more for Aralith. She could not be unseated as his pride and joy.
At the bottom of the last page Declan read, “I have grown quite fond of the boy. As fond as a father I expect. In fact, when Aralith returns home in the Spring I intend to throw a grand ball where I shall surprise Declan by publicly announcing that he is a free man from that day forth. Furthermore, I will announce to the Guild and all whom I consider dear friends and family that Declan is, from that day forth, to be my. . .”
There the book ended and Declan realized that the final pages had been torn out. He thought of the papers he saw Aralith holding as she left the room and wondered what they said that caused her to tear them out. His musings were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. He couldn’t go back through the door without being seen so he quickly hid in a large wardrobe keeping the door slightly ajar so he could see the room. The door opened and he saw Aralith come in. Tears still flowed down her cheeks, strangely turning to steam as they did so, but the wracking sobs of earlier had passed. She walked over to the bed and stared down at Malrius’ body. Suddenly, she stood up straight as if startled. Slowly she reached out and hesitantly touched the bed beside Malrius’ body as if afraid it would burn her. Declan’s eyes widened as he realized he still held the journal. The spot Aralith was touching was where it had laid. His heart began racing as he prepared for her to raise the alarm. But she didn’t. She just stood there touching the spot where the book had been. Then, without turning or moving, she spoke quietly:
“Declan, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry my brother. I was wrong. I hated and murdered my father over a lie and I can’t take it back. I willingly stepped into the cage built for me and now I’m trapped within. I can’t stop him Declan. Your life is forfeit if they catch you. Run Declan. You have to run. Far away. I couldn’t take having your blood on my hands as well, even though I’m the one who aimed the arrow at you. Run dear brother. Please Run.”
Then she quietly walked to the door and left the room. After a minute Declan slipped out of the wardrobe. On the bed in the spot the journal had been was his white dagger. He picked it up and stared at it. The blade was still stained with Malrius’ blood. When Declan tried to wipe it clean the blood would not come off, though previously Declan knew of nothing that could permanently stain that blade. It had been his most beloved possession. A gift from Malrius in honor of the name he had earned from the Guild, Whitethorn. This beloved item from the man he thought of as Father had been plunged repeatedly into his Father’s body, then finally into his heart, where it stayed while Malrius’ lifeblood flowed out around it until it finally stopped flowing with his death. Declan took the knife and, as tears silently rolled down his cheeks, he snuck out of the manor.
Back at the safe-house he retrieved some clothing and supplies and using Guild passages he snuck out of the city heading north. He had no plan. He had no idea what he was going to do or where he was going to go. He had lost everything. His beloved father was dead, murdered by his equally beloved sister who also framed him for the murder but then begged him to flee to save his life. What did all this mean? What had she meant about a cage built for her? Or a lie that caused her to murder her father? Who told the lie? Who built the cage?
He was in shock and couldn’t clear his head to think of these things, so he just started heading north with no destination in mind. Some weeks later he found himself outside Baldur’s Gate. In his distant memories from childhood, he recalled that Baldur’s Gate was the city his birth father’s caravan had departed from. Whether this meant they had lived there or only that it was where his father did business he couldn’t recall. He also knew there was a community of Calishite’s here in a walled-off section outside the city called Little Calimshan. In his training as a Faction Agent, he had met agents of the Guild Leader of Little Calimshan several times and the leader herself once. He had struck up a friendship with one or two of them. They jokingly invited him to visit them in the cold north so they could pelt him with something called snowballs. After these many weeks on the road, the thought of a place walled off from the strange world and full of fellow Calishites sounded like heaven. So, feeling lost and not knowing what the future held, he approached Baldur’s Gate.
Backstory for Abalus Delos the lizardfolk bard journalist
Once a brave lizard warrior fell in love with a beautiful human woman, given that they knew they’d be looked upon as an odd couple they moved onto the outskirts of civilization. Time passed and they lived their life, before too long they had two small children, Abalus and Devito. While Devito was always very active and loved rough housing, Abalus always had his snout in a book or was picking at his mother’s rich encyclopedia of knowledge.
They lived a happy young life and Abalus learned more and more about these magical places and these creatures like Elves and Dwarves or something that’s an owl and a bear? Oh the wonder! A week after his 18th birthday, Abalus left on his very own adventure to see and write about the world and the people out there. Everything was so new and magical, he absolutely adored it. Before too long he picked up the ability to play an instrument and found it was a nice way to make a quick gold.
Devito found himself joining the army, just like his father. As well he discovered his love for theater and alcohol. Abalus and Devito did not see each other for several years.
Abalus continuing his travels, wrote up some of his own books, met new people, learned how to cast magic with his music. After writing home to his mother and father, he discovered he had the name sake of a mythical isle of amber, called that because while one of his eyes were a soft blue, the other was a vivid amber color. He set out trying to find this island, but coming up dry. For awhile he just kept wandering, letters between his parents became infrequent.
Devito found Abalus playing in a lonely tavern in a city, almost not realizing it was him if it wasn’t for the little press hat that Devito had made Abalus before he left. The hat had since been enchanted as a hat of disguise as, Abalus had discovered not all like lizard men. Abalus was so happy to see his brother though, he came with poor news. Abalus wasn’t the only one finding himself saving people from monsters more, as there started to be frequent appearances of monsters. To make things worse, Devito discovered that their parents had gone missing. So with that they set off in a search for reasons on why monsters are appearing and where their parents went. They met a ranger and sorceress on their travels who joined them as they both hoped to discover the dark ongoings.
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Bardic Inspiration is just someone believing in you, and I believe in you
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I saw a post on the forums that was of many people sharing backstories of characters back in 2017, so I figured why not reignite it and see what else other people have come up with since then! Here's mine to start off:
Image of Ruby:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Tmnmqyk1k2XgD-vmKMy4_GWIruQjMyKU/view?usp=drivesdk
In a world beyond the physical and spiritual planes of the Forgotten Realms known as Un Tennim, there is a small, tight-knit community known as the Darktree's Ditch. They live in a small oasis of tolerance and saftey in the middle of the Darktree Grove, a forest of deadly plants, flesh-rending predators, and mysterious evils of magical and demonic decent. The various folk of the town all work together to gather what they need to survive in their isolated bubble, where trade and fresh faces are rarely seen. It wasn't perfect, but they were content. Everyone knew everyone, and they all cared for each other no matter their race, age, or occupation.
One day, as a small band of hunters were foraging and hunting, they heard the wailing of a child near the border of the oasis. When the hunters arrived, they discovered a baby girl wrapped in black silk, decorated with outlines of yellow and symbols of red and orange. The baby was placed in between the roots of an ancient tree, one that was considered split between the dark powers of the Darktree Grove and the magic that kept Darktree's Ditch safe from the evil around it. The hunters took the baby back into town, yet no one knew who the child belonged to, and no one claimed it. After a short debate, it was decided that the baby was to be kept in custody of Roren and Aliza Toraan, a middle-aged human couple with no children of their own.
They happily took the child in, but did not give her a name at first. They claimed that she would name herself in time. Soon, after an interaction and a sudden attachment to one of Aliza's precious necklaces, they decided to call the girl Ruby due to the attraction she had to the red gemstone centerpiece of the necklace.
Roren was a powerful man. Strong, fast, quick with blades and arrows alike, and an intellect to match. He worked alongside both the hunters and the town council. He would teach Ruby how to hunt, to adapt, to be the smartest and strongest person in the room to become whoever she wanted to be.
Aliza was a true artist. She would preform for the children of town while their parents were busy chatting or hunting. She sang songs with her sweey voice, organized shows, and told stories of glory, comedy, horror, and love. However, one of her greatest skills was people. She treated everyone with kindness and cared for every person she knew. She taught Ruby about the soical part of the world. How to interact, how to earn trust, and how to be the best person she could be.
While she did learn a lot fron her foster parents, Ruby was sought to be her own person. She took the lessons and philosophies of the couple and made her own. For example, she knew wasn't the strongest around, but knew that grace and speed were far more in her favor than force. She also knew that it was important to bring a balance to soical skills and raw intelligence to lead an effective soical life. With this mindset of combining multiple ideas, she became smarter, stronger, and skilled. She was well-read too. While she didn't seem to have any ability to use it, she learned a lot about magic from reading books from the town's special library, which could access written works from all around the world. (This was done by a particular kind teleportation circle that allowed small objects as large as books between multiple locations. It was created by a wizard named Jeodo Dedi to better his research on the demons of the Abyss). Over time, she became a beautifully gifted girl known as "The Jewel of Darktree's Ditch." She could fire an arrow into a doe's eye while reciting the story of a magical artifact. Everyone in the villiage loved her and claimed that she was going to leave that small town and forge a great destiny.
Ruby was happy with her life of talent and love for all she knew. But something bugged throughout her time in the oasis village. Where did she come from? Why was she left on the border of the deadly forest? There were so many questions that couldn't be answered in her small town...Not without a little push, at least.
It was the day after her 18th birthday. After a long night of celebration, Ruby was off on her own, strolling through the green woods to clear her head. She had promised Aliza years before that she'd leave Darktree's Ditch in pursuit of her dream... but she didn't know what that dream was. She wanted to stay with the family she had grown to love over so many years, and leaving would mean leaving behind all she ever knew. Thus, Ruby's midday stroll through the oasis. She wanted to clear her head, see what the woods told her...
And what it told her caused Ruby's heart to skip a beat.
The girl took a deep breath while lying back on a rock and caught the stench of flames licking at wood coming from upwind. Where the village was. She scaled a tree and saw several pillars of black smoke, confirming her fear. Darktree's Ditch was on fire.
Ruby sprinted through the thick grove to save her town, but when she arrived she found not a fireplace gone wrong, but rather a raid by demonic creatures of unknown origin. The creatures were humanoid but various in apperance, with one hunched over and hobbling on all fours while another had arms the size of adolescent trees their only similar qualities being blackened flesh and a hunger to kill. They were tearing through the villiage and bludgeoning the people to death or bringing them to their mistress, a nine foot tall lanky woman with ripped black robes, hair as white as a blizzard, and hands as grey as a Changling's goey skin.
The she-demon would eye the captured individual before holding her hand out to them, palm out. The villiager would then squirm and scream in agony as they slowly lagged behind and ahead of reality, transforming into another demonic creature. Ruby witnessed this occur, filled with fear, guilt, and overwhelming rage before crying out and cutting through the monsterous ranks with of the invaders with blade and bow to come face to face with the demoness herself.
The fight that ensued was powerful, yet quick. After dodging and weaving several of the she-demon's attacks, Ruby was struck and flung into the rubble of the town church, her shoulders impaled by two broken wooden beams. The towering invader laughed at Ruby's foolish bravery and congratulated her on surviving as long as she did against Karena the Corruptor. As a "reward," Ruby was forced to watch her villiage get torn apart. It was then that the Jewel of Darktree's Ditch had enough.
Ruby felt a surge of power course through her body, the sound around her intensifying as her heart pulsed rapidly. Her whole body burned as she gave out a cry of rage and streaks of golden energy flew out of her body and to the invaders. The beams weaved through rubble, buildings, and streets like tendrils seeking their bew targets each time they struck a monster, transforming them back into their original forms with some being complete strangers from beyond the Darktree Grove. After all the creatures were reverted, the beams of energy converged on Karena. She screeched in agonizing defeat as she was vaporized into nothing. When the invasion ended, the beams of energy dissipated and the burning in Ruby's body ceased. She collapsed on the ground, her wounds vanished, and blacked out.
When she awoke, she saw Roren and Aliza standing over her, tears in their eyes as they were praying to every god they could think of to wake up their little girl. And after a teary hug and explination, Ruby was up and active once again mere hours after the attack ended.
The days that followed were filled with books and questions. Where did that awesome power come from? How long did she have it? How was it strong enough to defeat a demon far stronger than some human girl? Ruby scanned for answers, obsessed with the discovery she made. She even tried bringing back the power she summoned but had no success. After weeks and weeks of following leads that led to nowhere, Ruby found something that appeared promising. The province of Skale. It was said that it was populated with individuals who possessed a gift that they would not share, but was definetly magical to some extent. After doing a but more research to confirm, she decided that she would need to experience it firsthand to learn anything.
The villiage threw one last celebration in her honor before she left, giving her parting gifts to remember where she came from. Aliza gave her the necklace that earned Ruby her name. Roren had saved two special rapiers, Aku and Lumi, for her departure to remind Ruby of her belief in balance, comprimise, and versatility. The mothers of the villiage gave her speically designed clothing that matched her red aesthetic and acted as a blend of casual and adventuring clothing. The hunters gave her a longbow that had been long considered lucky. Everyone else gave her various essential equipment she needed for the journey ahead. Finally, after a teary farewell, Ruby left her little oasis and made her way to Skale.
After about a month of travelling, she came upon the provice of Skale, only to find the ruins of villiages, keeps, and it's once powerful city. She found no sign of life, the only notable discovery being a powerful longsword that had been jammed into the stone of the palace steps, the magical blade covered in dried blood. It was also strangely corroded despite it's magical properties. After that hope-shattering discovery, she delved back into books, desperate to find out what happened to the ruined city. Unfortunately, she quickly ran out of gold and supplies trying to research. To compensate, she became a traveling blade-for -hire to pay for food, bed, drink, and more books. She took many odd jobs such as escorting caravans, loading and unloading cargo from carts and ships, anything innocent that would earn her gold decent for the essentials and research.
Eventually, all of her effort paid off. Almost a year into this process, Ruby discovered that while the city of Skale fell under mysterious circumstances, there was one native of the city known to be alive: a leading knight of the city's guard named Jakk Hiperon, who was supposedly adventuring all over the world. Ruby made it her priority to find the lost knight and finally learn about who she truly was.
A few days later, she was ambushed by a fiend and sent to another world by a mysterious force. A world of floating islands held up by chains and ancient magic: Arvitxh. There, she begins her true adventures in a group of intertwining destinies: Rosam Hayward the homesick Halfing Cleric, Sylsira Aeven the startled Druidic Half-Elf, and Nowhere the mysterious Bardic Tiefling.
I really love your backstory it was super interesting to read! And the art was very well done, did you draw it yourself? Keep up the good work :)
Thank you so much! That really means a lot! As for the art, it was done by one of my companions in my current campaign (the halfling). I always tell everyone that they make pretty pictures while I'm the one who describes them.
I sadly have no pictures of her but recently I made this new character! She's a human Cleric apart of an evil campaign (maybe more self-interested is a better word for it).
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Idunna of Therese, May, Rebekka, and Selma was born in the early spring. Known by most by the name Matthew, she was raised in an all-female communal nunnery dedicated to Auril, the Goddess of winter. The commune was near the cold city of Luskan and the commune was notorious for being a cult group performing sacrifices, body mutilation, and a strict social code. The people of Luskan knew little of what the commune was like, but most people agreed that it was full of wild women, some people would even say commune was abusive to their followers. She grew up with roughly two-hundred other women in communal longhouses in a small plateau on the side of a mountain. The recluse society was made up of women who would take up past Matriarch’s name in addition through there own. The only time they socialized with men was for reproducing more members, and if the woman gave birth to a son he would be used a sacrifice to the Frostmaiden. The commune was, for the most part, self-sufficient and would sell timber from the mountains to Luskan to sell. The tree would be cut off the branches for firewood for inns, pubs, houses, etc- and the body of the tree would be attached to a sled and brought to the docks to create boats.
As a young girl, Matthew was raised with the other girls by Caregivers of her commune. Matthew knew of her maternal blood (Mother) and ancestor (Grandmother) but they weren’t the ones who raised her. The commune has no familial titles or romantic ones either. Words like “Mother”, “Marriage”, “Sibling”, etc do not exist. Instead, the sisterhood wanted children to be raised seeing the commune as a whole as a unified group and blood and romantic relationships were divisive. Matthew didn’t realize she had an older kin born of the same woman (sister) until she six when she learned of an Elise of Therese, May, Rebekka, and Selma. She was so happy she clung to her rosemåled dress and hugged the older teen until one of the elders ripped her off and punished her harshly for such attention. Their concern was that having familial relationships would fail to appropriately teach the child the communal fundamentals. She was then told she wasn’t allowed to talk to her ‘kin by blood’, and would only see her in passing with the older age group.
At times Matthew would try to sneak a small smile at her or wave, in hopes that her the elder of the two knew she was sorry. To this day she still kicks herself for acting so carelessly as a child and likes to imagine if she was allowed to be friends with her relative. Because she was scared of what would happen if she was too close with her own maternal blood, she stopped sleeping next to her and joined the older girls in shared furs the children slept in. She was praised by the adults for cutting off this attachment and said that it would make her a stronger member of the commune and church.
The peers she had all did scripture studies together, prayed together, did chores and ate together. Over time she did manage to get over her kin weakness and began to truly thrive in the community. She flourished in the commune and loved living her life for the glory of her Goddess by making sacrifices and celebrating holidays. While they cut down trees they sang hymns for Auril and at the dining tables would chant and bang on the tables. When Matthew got older she realized that she had a wonderful gift that was rare of the other nuns or laypeople had in her community. She was then raised as a Cleric for her soul had a ‘fighting spirit about it’ and the commune thought it would be wise to use her faith to defend the commune.
Once she was roughly 19 years of age, she had a coming of age ritual. To prove that Matthew was dedicated to her Goddess, she agreed to allow that her wisdom teeth were pulled out as a gift. She threw them into the cracks of an iced-over river. For her sacrifice, she was then given a set of golden teeth there were implanted into her mouth were her old teeth once were.
This was Matthew's first and only gift.
Once given her rite of passage, she, like other members were allowed to wander the world. She could choose to stay in the outside world forever or go back home. She was stripped of her commune name and choose the name. “Matthew”. Matthew of course at the time didn’t realize there was even a difference between male and female names but it stuck with her anyway. She would only be given back her true name only if she returned.
Matthew was at first scared of a lot of the outside world but got over this fear and some could say the Cleric is a little too trusting of people. She still continues following the nunnery's teachings and likes to form friendships with people she meets. Despite her unconventional upbringing, Matthew is a very bubbly and sweet young lady. It’s safe to say she wouldn’t be back home in a while…. Or perhaps not at all.
Now THAT is how you write a Cleric backstory!
Really cool set of post so far, hopefully I can add to it. This is the Backstory of Shirlay Vymeanian, a character that I'm currently playing in Curse of Strahd, with the last session being next week.
Remlay El Vymeanian Hollowin Sarralon, The Fair and True Heir, the man who will reunite the struggling, war-torn, city-states of Chessenta. So why did I follow him? Why did I raise my blade at his word? Why did I shed blood in his name? Because he gave me my own name and a use for this weapon.
The 8th of Kythorn, a day to be remembered throughout Chessenta. A day of joyous celebration and wonder, as the waring country joined together in the capital city, Cimbar. Noble factions, for once in many years, conveined in lost traditions, alien to the younger generations that held many court seats. One of which was to bring together these old families, and reform old bonds once again to strike at a once in a lifetime chance. As many notable families, nobles, merchants, and mercenary bands alike, knew that throughout the long unending Civil War, House Sarralon, nobles of old blood, and the first to rule the Chessentian throne, were likely to retake the throne once again and reunite Chessenta if things were to go as planned. But many Houses wished to keep their city-states independent. And so, a coup was whispered between many men and women of power for months before the 8th of Kythorn, and The Twilight Massacre of Cimbar was a night etched in history thenon. As the streets ran with Sarralon blood, other Houses found an opportunity to strike out at their rivals and new allies. Setting the war-torn country years back in progress and success in reuniting itself, on a day that should have stopped ceaseless bloodshed across Chessenta that began with a reason lost to it. But the Sarralon bloodline would continue and live on. As the last of the line Remlay El Vymeanian Hollowin Sarralon, lived and escaped the drenched streets of Cimbar and made his way to the nearby town of Luthcheq.
I fear that for years I had no name, I had no home, I had no objective. For as long as I could remember I had no one beside me as I lived and survived in this treacherous world, as I awoke in a decrepit, demolished home, with my small weak body In my early years of this life, I would be shunted away for my strange behavior, and pushed to the side for my odd passions. Human society, and those that inhabited it would soon burn a hatred in my heart for my kind and their actions. There was no love in those days, and I would not seek the love of others. I soon took myself far away, and wandered these lands before me for a purpose. I scoured far and wide, learning a few things from those who would be willing to teach, for something in return. I learned how to fight with a multitude of weapons, how to surmise the land before me, and how to stay out of sight and blend with those around me. As I used these skills to survive, I found myself feeling a power surge forth from myself. As I soon could recall my weapon to myself, and produce mystic light from my fingertips. For what this entails for myself, I did not care, and I still do not. But I now keep this new found power to myself.
As I controlled this “Magic”, it was obvious that people would distance themselves and move cautiously around me. Speaking callus things as my back was turned. Something else that burned a bright violent flame in my heart, my kinds deceit. This would happen occasionally, but when it occurred, I knew it was time to leave. But eventually this phenomenon began to happen more frequently, and eventually I found myself overhearing some individuals speaking about me, and calling myself an Illegal Mage. To which the following weeks were labored with my escape from the region I was currently in Thay. A kingdom that was known for its Red Wizards and Authoritarian law. As the strong ruled, and the capable were bound in chain for forced work and labor. A term called “Slavery”. This did not seem too enticing. And I soon found myself in another country, amongst another kind of people, where blood would constantly feed the nearby hills and fields, and where no one truly cared about who you were. A place where I would slowly find my place, my home, Chessenta.
I quickly found myself in a small rural village of Luthcheq, and I quickly surmised that something was amiss. As it seemed that all of the inhabitants of this village were gathered in the square nearby. And atop a recently built platform, was a man wrapped on a wooden stake. With golden hair that fell long, a ruined tabard caked with blood, and eyes that I have only heard in comparison to mine: “Like an extinguished flame”. I looked on in curiosity, and I awaited for this event to unfold. As a large man walked upon this stage with regal attire and a large scroll in hand, they unravelled it, and red aloud: “I present, Remlay El Vymeanian Hollowin Sarralon, found in the outskirts of this fair Luthcheq, running and escaping lawful justice for conspiring against the rest of the Chessentian court, and causing unforgivable bloodshed throughout Cimbar. To which this Remlay quickly shouted out in retort: “My family was known to only want peace and unification across our divided country! Why would we ever do something like this?! There were then murmurs, shouts, and objects thrown about in anger and upset aggression, and this Remlay quickly silenced and drowned out under this overwhelming aggression. Eventually this scroll was finished as the crowd let out its last fits of anger, and to no one’s surprise Remlay El Vymeanian Hollowin Sarralon was to die the following sunrise, and would rest upon his post and pray to whatever god he could. The crowd slowly dispersed after shouting slurs at the man for a short while. But when the sun set, and the guards watching this man thinned, I was still there. Staring into those solemn eyes and half dead form that had no more energy to fight. I was waiting for something, any hint of resistance, of will, and when I began to realize that the sun would rise soon enough, my anger boiled over. I darted through this square with a wild rush of violent anger and adrenaline, cutting down the unaware men that were unlucky enough to be guarding this man before a scream or shout could be heard. Even when the last of these men slide off my blade, I still had my eyes locked onto this Remlay, and in that moment his eyes finally looked into mine, and I saw for a moment, the spark of a roaring flame, then it was gone again.
“Do you wish to live? Remlay? Or do you wish to die here, burned on a post?” He looked puzzled by my words for a moment, and replied quietly “Whose House do you crest from Knig-” “I have no name of my own, nor do I crest from some house” I muttered through gritted teeth as I leaped to the top of the wooden platform. And as I stared into those accused eyes he whispered “I have no title to give, no gold, no reward, nothing to offer but my gratitude and favor from here on if you assist me” “So you wish to live?” “Yes” In the few silent moments after, as I heard faint bells and shouts ring throughout the lazy village of Luthcheq, I could see the burning passion within those eyes once more, and by the time the sun arose, and a patrol came by the toppled and cut post, we were long gone.
Days, weeks, months, and maybe even years past by as the two of us would journey together, and build a small band of our own. The Ebony Tears, a guerrilla/mercenary band of men and women who fought for a untied Chessenta, and would do anything to achieve that. Eventually we gained notoriety, and with Remlay El Vymeanian Hollowin Sarralon, The Fair and True Heir leading us, many people joined our ranks for the dream we had. I eventually had a place to call home, a goal, an objective to reach for and follow, and a name Shirlay Vymeanian. A name given to me by Remlay, a man of which that I very much so respect now. And a title to go along with it, Black Rose, a title that our soldiers gave me, for my finesse in combat, and what they call my thorny attitude.
But as the years moved past and we reached closer to achieving our dream each day, a frightful day more recently came along. As The Ebony Tears made way through the countryside, we were ambushed by an unknown assailant. As they hailed metal projectiles into us, we were scattered, and were forced to split up and retreat. When I turned to assess my comrades that were right behind me just a few moments ago, they were gone, and I found myself in a vastly different terrain that I had never laid my eyes on before. As I called out for my comrades, there was no one within earshot, and as I heard the forest nearby call back in anger, I rushed forward, for the chance of seeing my lost allies.
When Jack (currently traveling under the surname Turner) was a young man, he worked as a courier, mostly moving back and forth through a war zone. His skills at gathering information and his perfect recall led to his being recruited by an information broker, to specifically gather everything he could about the shifting political situation and which rich and powerful people could be... useful.
He fell in love with his new employer's son, with whom he planned to elope, and the two started putting together the money they would need for a new life together. Let us just say, he didn't fall in love with the boy for his brains or planning ability-- not long after they struck out, hoping to get away from the war and to settle down safely, Jack found himself a wanted man, on charges of theft and kidnapping, given that he'd disappeared from his employer's house with his son and a not insignificant amount of personal wealth.
Before they could return and set things straight, his common-law husband was kidnapped for real, leaving Jack with no real recourse but to live outside the law while seeking any information about his missing love. He picked up more of the skills he'd need as a rogue, and now his plan is to hook up with adventuring parties that will allow him to travel farther than he could safely do alone, while he searches.
Derpygrrr . (Dwarf - Druid/Rogue)
Derpygrrr had a great life growing up. A loving family with lots of gold and the best education. He joined a Druids circle at the behest of his mother who was secretly enjoying the company of the Archdruid. He was a clumsy but smart young lad.
Derpygrrr is a short and stout dwarf, smaller than normal at just under 4 feet. Derpygrrr has dichromatic eyes, left eye blue, right eye brown. His few friends also thought at first it was a birth mutation, but it was really a rather, umm, interesting accident.
One day while in the garden, Derpygrrr was transforming back from the form of a rat into his natural dwarfish form when a cat jumped on him and dug his teeth into his skin. The cat had been a part of him during the transformation. Derpygrrr was now nimbler, more perceptive and had a spry feeling like he could climb and jump with ease.
Derpygrrr tried many times to change forms and revert but could never split himself from the damned cat. While the new agility, balance and spring in his step was great there was a dear cost. Derpygrrr would exhibit some feline idiosyncrasies at rather unfortunate times.
Derpygrrr shunned the Druid’s Circle when they couldn’t help, and found uses for his new found skills. He liked to break into nobles houses and eat their food and cause mischief, often looking around to try to find incriminating things about people for his own amusement.
Derpygrrr was bored and wanted some meaning in his life; more than just be a creepy miscreant and that is when he met ….
I'm very very new here and this is my first character! ((Also I have no idea how elf-ages work, so I avoided specific numbers)
When her village was raided as a young child, she was lost as her family and friends fled the land to greener pastures, tragically forgetting one of their own. With the century old houses that the Wood Elf community once called home completely destroyed, there were assumed to be no survivors left after the 50 or so escaped the raids. Left alone she traveled through the lands for a short while until stumbling upon the bustling port of ( insert port name here ) where a friendly gnome man took her in. The elven girl was so tired and malnourished from her unfortunate beginning that she didn't protest or speak as he wrapped her in a blanket and brought her to his ship.
Things went considerably better from that point on. Usually children being taken onto mysterious boats by unknown men is a recipe for misfortune, but for the elven girl it was as good as it could be. The crew, led by Ronro Targren, was a group of 35 gnomes, they gave her the name Parsley in a poor attempt to replicate an elvish name, but mainly focused on her as a person. They taught her how to navigate bodies of water, how to tie the ships' lines, they told her stories of sea monsters they had (probably) defeated, and storms that had definitely happened. Ronro's was a thriving business; mainly delivering items up and down the coast for considerable coin. They operated out of a 70' schooner, named the Blue Loon. Because the crew (excluding Parsley) was so small and needed less supplies for their journeys, margins were great. When she got a little older they demonstrated how to knock someone out with a belaying pin (which is, for a gnome, a 2 handed weapon) and she took to using two to practice defense and attacks. On stormy days she challenged herself to climb higher in the rigging of the Loon, jumping from mast to swaying mast. The deck of a delivery ship wasn't the conventional place for a girl to grow up, but her she was. Crushing it.
Years came and went and opportunities to leave her rag-tag gnome family appeared and dissolved. There was never a set reason for her to leave, other than a gut feeling for her roots and a desire to eat something other than fish. With a heavy heart and eyes set on solid ground, Parsley hugged Ronro goodbye and shakily stepped onto the pier. The crew unloaded their shipment onto the docks and one by one gave Parsley a sick hi-five. She watched the Deep Loon sail over the horizon with a promise to meet again.
Some may think this is a bit long but ...
Flint ... a Half-Elf Ranger
Flint was raised in a frontier township of a human province next to an elvish kingdom. Because of this, the township had many half-elves and humans living together with a few elves also. Due to the racial make up of his community he didn't suffer racism that could have arose from his mixed race parentage. He grew up in a family that logged the woods nearby for the good of the human province he lived in. They didn't harvest enough trees to be considered a problem for the elves, so there were good relations among all. However, his parents realized that some of the (5) children would need to take up other professions and he was apprenticed to a blacksmith in the town (his family lived in a cabin close to the trees, not in town).
He was a reliable and studious apprentice gaining the respect of the family he lived with and even attracted the notice of the Magistrate that ruled the province. As an apprentice blacksmith he learned about blacksmithing (for farmers and such) and about making fixtures and tools, making some weapons and "working gadgets." He learned about taking care of animals, because this was one of his other duties, and developed a strong frame carrying water and other laborious duties. His relationship with his master smith was always very good but his master recognized that he was not bound to become a journeyman smith. Because of this he spoke to the Magistrate to see if it were possible to get him a position in the court or as a squire or something.
When the magistrate said he would help in this matter, the master went to speak to Flint's father about it. Flint's father said he would allow it if it was what Flint wanted. Then the master and Flint's father spoke to Flint about the prospect of taking up a new life apart from either logging or smithing. Flint did confess that he had dreamed of becoming a scout or ranger where he could live in the wilderness. His father cautioned him that such a pursuit could be difficult if he were to have a family. Flint said he would find some way to make it work. And so, at the age of sixteen Flint was sent to the Magistrate to become a scout for the army.
Now there was little need for a scout in this province; things had been peaceful for generations. But the commander of the small detachment took him up and began training him to become a part of the army and tried to find ways to give him the secluded wilderness training he would need to support himself without supplies. He was attentive as a soldier to his training, but now he experienced his first taste of racism. The army was made up almost exclusively of men and some thought there should not be mixed races. Flint was likeable enough that his experiences were only a few offhand comments or racial jokes. He was well respected by enough men that nobody ever tried to hurt him and damage his property over it.
Ironically, he ended up getting his best wilderness training operating on the border with the elves. They initially spied on him and he only had a feeling he was being watched. But he was sent to stay in the woods for days at a time and return with a report of his observations, so he did his best. Then one evening a severe storm came up and Flint was doing his best to shelter from the worst of it. The elves knew it was quite a severe storm so a group of four elves descended on him and all but kidnapped him to spirit him away to their own shelter for his protection. They took care of him and taught him their ways of living in the wood. They taught him how to find food, trap and hunt, track animals and men alike, read signs of nature and be a friend to animals. They taught him to make rope, arrows, bows and bow strings and how to make and work with leather. In all these things like his several other pursuits he studied and practiced to become a capable woodsman and scout. But most especially they taught him to use the bow unlike the manner of men. He was taught to nock an arrow and bring it up to firing position in a single motion. He was taught how to read the strength of the wind, how to adjust for firing up or down from his height and how to lead a moving target. And he practiced all these things with vigor and enthusiasm.
The initial training experience he received from the elves was for four days before he returned to the men at the camp. He gave such a report of his activities they sent him often to the elves for more training. And it became a cycle that he would share some of what he learned from the elves with the men. Upon his twentieth birthday, the magistrate called for him to account for his training. His father and his blacksmith master were there along with the captain. The magistrate was so impressed he asked the young man what he would like to do in the service of the King. Flint replied that he would like to attend the formal Ranger school so he might put his skills to use for the province and the kingdom. The magistrate said he would do this if Flint would first serve a formal three-year enlistment. Ranger school was expensive and the magistrate said he would have the cost covered if he would serve the army of the province. Flint agreed and his future was set for many years to come.
He served the army and was promoted to be a high level sergeant because of his diligence. Some men didn't care for this as they believed they had earned promotions having served longer than Flint. The old racist remarks were once again being heard from time to time. One day after a long period of tough training his unit was given leave to enjoy some R&R in the town. A group of soldiers were getting drunk in the tavern at a table near Flint and one of them stood up and yelled something particularly offensive at Flint about his parentage. Flint stood up and indicated that the man's friends should take him home before it went further. One of them objected to this and it quickly came to blows. Flint, being outnumbered, had to fight for his life for the drunken men were unable to control themselves having been embarrassed Flint was able to pull rank on them. In their sad state they were determined to show that he might have the authority of rank over them but he couldn't back it up. Flint had to prove them wrong.
Not being drunk to excess, Flint was able to fight off the first attack, but this made the men angrier. He fought off another and things became worse. The men showed they would take him two or three to one. Others stepped in and it became a brawl. A man in the middle trying to stop the fight by keeping the soldiers back was seriously hurt and Flint had seen enough. He grabbed something he could use as a club and knocked three men to the ground breaking their bones. A man approached Flint from the blind side and knocked him to the ground. He raised a tankard to strike Flint in the head and Flint had to react. He rolled and got to his knees. Flint shot out his leg and caught the man in the knee causing it to buckle. He then grabbed something and swung at the man as he collapsed catching him in the head and killing him. The sound was heard throughout the tavern, a dull thud as the man's skull broke and his heavy frame slammed into the floor. There was a moment of silence as Flint rolled back to sit and stare at the man.
This cast a pall over the whole tavern. Flint stood up and looked around for the soldiers. He indicated to two of the men to take care of the three wounded soldiers. He indicated to another that he wanted him to guard the door and have everyone stay put. And he indicated to two other men that the three of them needed to report immediately to the Captain of the Guard. And they left at once.
Reporting to the Captain, he heard Flint's account and sent a band of soldiers and an officer to the tavern. They assessed the situation and attended to the wounded men. They spoke with the bartender and several witnesses including four soldiers not seriously hurt. They arrested Flint and brought him back to the barracks. He was placed on room confinement under guard so the matter could be sorted out.
Two important men were sent to the province by the Governor to judge the matter. The witnesses that accused Flint were discredited under the influence of magic to reveal the truth and some men were transferred while others were jailed or discharged and sent away. Flint was also sent away, early by three months, to attend Ranger school.
Upon graduation he received a note from the Magistrate, one from the Governor, one from the smith, one from the Captain of the guard and finally one from his father. They all wished him the very best and offered to support him in their own way. His father went on at length to say how proud he was of him. But all the letters said one thing together, that he shouldn't come back to the province because some folks would never believe he had been punished for killing a man in spite of the investigation and hearing. Flint was a Ranger and he was now on his own.
Vrenic Shadowsouled - Half Elf - Blade Pact Old One Warlock
As a child in the forests of his fathers tribe Vrenic loved to explore, wandering often into the forbidden depths of the ancient land. He felt remote and removed from his fathers people, the Wood Elves, preferring his own company. The Elves in turn treated Vrenic with tolerant indifference, showing neither true affection nor scorn or hate.
On one of his wanderings he found an ancient hollow tree in the depths of the Nimen Dieve, a region that all of the community avoided, but an area that seemed to draw Vrenic. Perhaps this was due to the isolation and loneliness that seemed a reflection of his situation, or perhaps simply because it was forbidden
As Vrenic ventured into the vast darkness that was contained within the ancient, somehow still living tree, he felt a presence, a fell majesty, that seemed to reach towards him from deep witin the darkness. He turned to flee, but fell before he reached the exit, remembering nothing of what came after
The Wood Elves found him after several days searching, a silent, gaunt figure stumbling through the woodlands, tears spilling down his face and deep scratches in strange patterns all over his body.
They took him to his home. He lay silent and still, only moving when gently prodded by his caretakers. On the seventh day he sat bolt upright and he screamed like a thing bereft of hope and sanity. His adopted family and Father came running into the room to find his half sister huddled by the door and Vrenic sleeping peacefully for the first time since he had been found. When he woke from this sleep he had no memory of anything from after he had turned to flee the reaching darkness of the great hollowed tree until this awakening, a blank in his mind that covered those many days
In the following years he appeared to be fully healed and whole, though all noted a shadowed aspect that had not been there before. Both he and the people of the forest searched, but none could find the ancient tree. No one truly doubted his story, for all could see the changes and view the pattern of scars that covered all save his face and the palms of his hands. He took to wrapping his body in lengths of cloth to cover these markings, for they seemed to cause discomfort in all who viewed them for any length of time
He stayed for a time, but the desire to wander grew, growing stronger as he matured. Vrenic felt driven to find out what had happened on that fateful day so long in his past. As his majority approached he prepared, knowing he would leave his home. The night before leaving, a vision came, a dark portent of a future of terror and unnatural dread. He knew he must stop this dark future from coming, and found within himself a new and terrifying power, drawn from an unknown source.
Vrenic left the village, driven by his visions to find the truth of his power and a path away from the terror he knew lay in the coming days
I'd like some thoughts on this one... My DM wants to do a one-shot with new characters. I've been fascinated with the Githyanki since I first laid my hands on the Fiend Folio in 1981.
I have only played AD&D back in the 80's, and jumped back in to 5e last year. And, the the Gith are a playable race! So, I thought, what better time would I have to play one of them? Don't have any real details of the campaign, or what level, but I decided to go with an Eldritch Knight, because, of course... never played one of those, either.
Ma'arwola'ith (basically, the Welsh word for 'death.' seemed appropriate...)
I'm imagining him with an eye patch and wicked scars, probably as a result of a battle that left him with amnesia. I think that's maybe the best way for a creature that's almost NEVER a solitary adventurer to end up in whatever party we're made of. He will probably suffer from flashbacks, and recurring memories, but be fairly self-involved and, well, Chaotic Evil.
Does that sound feasible?
That sounds pretty interesting! A one-shot actually sounds like a good way to experiment with the character and potentially prepare him for a full campaign! Maybe even turn him into an enemy NPC!
These are great reads!
I'm not sure how to share my characters' backstories. I use a combination of Description/Appearance for visual first impression, Notes/Other for traits that require further observation and interaction before others discover those traits, and Notes/Backstory for the experiences that shaped the characters traits - traits being personality quirks in addition to appearances that are not immediately evident. The three of them work in concert for my characters in the progression of Appearance (quick observation), Other (detailed observation), and lastly, Backstory (obtained only by conversation). This is in addition to the Description/Characteristics and Description/Personality Traits which are also gleaned from observation or direct conversation.
The backstories deliberately have gaps to be filled by DM discretion if a DM chooses to do so. The gaps are most often in the form of the characters' singular viewpoint of events that do not give a complete picture or understanding of the events. I write the backstory always only from the characters' sphere of awareness. I also often pepper the text with ((OOC)) explanations that deal with specific rules, and will use the 3rd person to refer to the character in OOC.
I also have this habit of writing in the 2nd person, as if to give the player (me) instructions on being the character.
For example (not currently part of any of my characters):
This also leaves open the possibility that the young character misidentified what had grabbed him/her depending on how that particular events unfolds from the character's interpretation of things.
I adhere to this method rather neurotically. I don't know how I should format them for a single all-encompassing reading.
Human. Male. Possibly. Don't be a divider.
My characters' backgrounds are written like instruction manuals rather than stories. My opinion and preferences don't mean you're wrong.
I am 99.7603% convinced that the digital dice are messing with me. I roll high when nobody's looking and low when anyone else can see.🎲
“It's a bit early to be thinking about an epitaph. No?” will be my epitaph.
Born in the Dalelands in the decade prior to the Spellplague, Ellara is a young Moon Elf. During the tumultuous years following the death of Mystra, Ellara’s family sought refuge in Waterdeep. She learned the arts of battle from her father and dabbled in arcane secrets from her bard mother. As she reached the age of majority, a family friend (Janzia the Silverblade) allowed Ellara to accompany her on several trips around the Sword Coast on a series of courier duties. Ellara handled herself well in encounters with orc raiders and bandits, causing Janzia to train her in the lore and ways of a Harper. After 2 winters of training and travel, Janzia sent Ellara across the sea to the Moonshae Isles. The Harper network is small there, but many Harper leaders see the isles at a crucial crossroads. With instructions to keep an eye on the state of Amn’s colonies in the isles (and frustrate the mercantile nation’s expansion designs if possible), Ellara has come to the court of the High King as a foreign mercenary.
Ellara was spoiled by her upbringing, since her parents made a good living as instructors in sword and spell. Her travels with Janzia were typically quite comfortable as the eldritch knight was quite highly placed among the Harper elite. Consequently, rough travels and shoddy accommodations are abhorrent to Ellara. She is resourceful and observant, but prefers direct action to subterfuge in her personal plans. She embraces change for its own sake, believing that change provides opportunities for bettering everyone’s circumstances. She is dogged in her pursuit of her goals and unswerving loyal to her cause and her companions. In battle, Ellara prefers bow to blade but is more than able to hold her own.
Well, out of the few characters I have, one of my favorites is a Tiefling Ranger named Xena. She never met her real father until much later in life, because most of her first memories were with her human parents, her father being the mayor of the town they lived in. She lived a somewhat peaceful life from the time she was an infant to the time she was 6 years old. Her father trained her on how to shoot an arrow and handle a bow. By the time she was five years old, she could hit a bulls eye nine times out of ten. But, things started to get ugly as she started school. She was exposed to the true cruelty Tieflings face and mass amounts of racism every day. Parents started rioting at her dad's house and yelling at him to make her leave, even kill her. Eventually, he had no choice but to throw her out, for the safety of the rest of his family. She lived on her own in the forest with nothing but the bow she's had since she was little, the one thing she has a bond with, wandering from town to town, stealing and pick pocketing just to survive.
Backstory for a Half Orc Fighter named Urzuk Goldsbane:
Son to a camp follower and raised in military barracks and on the field of battle, Urzuk has been a warrior and a soldier all his life. This all changed when his company was crushed in a great battle due to the foolishness of his captain and the stubborn soldiers following orders blindly. On the eve of battle Urzuk and his company were to hold a bridge at all costs. The bridge however was weak, its supports old and failing. Urzuk attempted to reason with his captain that they should avoid fighting on the bridge itself but was ignored.
During the height of battle Urzuk heard a scream from behind and saw that an archer had fallen forward, knocking over a brazier used for lighting arrows. Moving quickly Urzuk rushed back and pulled the man out of the fire but was too late to save him. In a panic Urzuk attempted to kick the brazier over the edge and into the canyon but he made things worse by spilling hot coals and tar along the wood and rope bridge. Suddenly the bridge was aflame, and his men were stuck between a roaring fire and a blood thirsty enemy. Many charged forward and were cut down, some attempted to rush back and put out the fire. Alas the bridges supports burned and any who still stood on the bridge fell to their deaths. Urzuk was an outcast, hated by his comrades and forced to flee in the night before they decided to put him to death.
Urzuk now travels the world looking to absolve himself of the guilt he feels for his past mistakes, and wishes to experience life as an explorer taking odd jobs, rather than a soldier. He seeks freedom, and the power and strength to protect those he cares about in the future. He will take no master he sees as foolish or corrupt, and refuses to speak about the day he caused the death of those he knew as comrades, brothers and friends.
--
Gained the moniker "Goldsbane" when he accidentally dropped a chest of the companies gold into a flowing river of lava.
Hi everyone. This is the backstory of Declan Whitethorn, my newly created 1st level Human Rogue I'll be playing in Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus in the coming weeks. Hope you like it.
Declan, called Whitethorn by some, was sold into slavery as a child. He was born to a northern family and captured by slavers when his birth father’s trading caravan was attacked en route to Calimshan. He was sold to a kind Tiefling named Malrius who was a midlevel noble of Calimshan and several years later revealed himself to be the leader of the Thieves Guild there in secret. Malrius purchased Declan on impulse. There was something he saw in his face, a look of hope and humor, but no fear, in spite of what must have been a terrifying experience being captured and jailed by slavers. He had no need for a new slave, much less a child so he decided he would raise Declan alongside his daughter. Aralith who was of a similar age and was kept sheltered and homeschooled for her safety was lonely for lack of playmates or friends so a permanent slave to keep her company seemed like a good idea.
Over time Declan grew to love Malrius and Aralith and considered them his family in spite of his station as a slave. Malrius came to love Declan as well and considered him his son in all but name and title. He saw in Declan the talent and mind of a future leader and possible heir to Guild leadership. To hone those abilities, when Declan grew old enough, Malrius divulged that he was the secret head of the Thieves Guild in Calimshan. He sent Declan to apprentice as a Faction Agent of the Guild to represent him in minor deals and negotiations so Malrius’ public identity could be protected. There Declan was trained in the ways of subterfuge, guile, diplomacy, and knife fighting. He had a particular talent for knife fighting and was soon recognized as one of the best. He became known among the Guild as Whitethorn, the pale-skinned boy you never saw until you were stuck.
During Declan’s time of apprenticeship, Aralith was sent to a finishing school. She wasn’t aware of Malrius’ secret second life as the leader of the Thieves Guild either, but she knew he was rich and powerful among the nobles of Calimshan and she expected to inherit that money and power someday. As Malrius’ heir, she assumed he was sending her to this school to prepare her for taking on the role of head of a noble house someday. But while there she was deceived by a demon who convinced her that Malrius had grown to love Declan more than her and had secretly decided to adopt Declan and name him his heir. He cast spells of scrying and foretelling showing her visions of the future in which Malrius was signing documents of adoption naming Declan his son and his heir. The visions were true but incomplete. The demon kept from Aralith the knowledge that the heir they referred to was heir to Malrius’ position within the Guild, not heir to his Noble house. The demon told her that Malrius had actually sent her to this school to learn how to behave like a proper noble’s wife because he planned to marry her off to another noble house to strengthen his status among the nobility and to gain access to new avenues of profit for his business concerns. Under the demon’s influence and lies she began to despise her father and Declan. The demon convinced her that she needed to return home quickly and kill her father before Declan’s adoption was complete and while she was still his heir. She had no hope of getting away with the murder of such a powerful man she told the demon. At that, he sprung his trap. He offered to make a pact with Aralith granting her the power to succeed.
Using the powers the demon gave her she returned home in secret. She found her father and Declan sparring with daggers as they often did. While cloaked in invisibility she watched them as they laughed and joked. The obvious love and affection between them spurred on her fury even more and she could take no more. Before they could react to her appearance she bound them with magic so they could not move or speak. She cast a second spell compelling Malrius to speak only the truth then asked him if it was true that he planned to adopt Declan and make him his heir. Bound by the spell, Malrius could only say yes, as it was true though not in the way Aralith believed. Then, taking Declan’s precious white dagger (a gift from Malrius that many knew of) she stabbed her father repeatedly leaving the dagger in his heart with her final blow. Tears flowed down Declan’s face as he was forced to watch helplessly.
Finally, she turned to Declan and said with dripping malice in her voice,
“You better run little heir. I think I hear a cry of MURDER being raised and an alarm being sounded. The guard will soon see the bloody body of my beloved father with your well-known knife in his heart. Oh, what a SLAVE will do to escape to freedom.”
With that she began to scream “MURDERER! HELP!” Declan, suddenly finding himself released, ran. He escaped through a secret tunnel Malrius had shown him and he hoped was unknown to Aralith. He fled to a safe-house that only he knew of and hid out there while things cooled off.
While in hiding he tried to understand what had happened. Why had his sister killed their father in cold blood and framed him for the murder? Why did she believe that Malrius was adopting Declan and making him his heir? Why had Malrius answered Yes when asked if it was true? He had to find out the truth.
When the manor seemed calm again he snuck back in through the secret tunnel. He silently made his way to Malrius’ room. Listening at the door he heard the sounds of crying and someone chanting sorrowfully, “No, no, no, no.” Then he heard the sound of tearing paper followed by footsteps coming toward the door. Quickly he hid. From the shadows, he watched as the door opened and a distraught Aralith stumbled out sobbing in tears. She clutched some papers to her chest but he couldn’t tell what they were. When she was gone he crept into the room. There on his bed lay Malrius. His body was dressed in his finest clothes in obvious preparation for his funeral pyre. Beside his body on the bed lay a book. Declan took the book and upon opening it saw that it was Malrius’ personal journal.
He began reading and wasn’t surprised to find that most of it was filled with a doting father’s declarations of pride and joy for his beloved daughter. He wrote often of his fears and hopes for her future. Nothing was written about marrying her off to expand his influence and power. It was clear he intended her to inherit his noble title upon his death along with the estate and all the prestige and trappings that came with it. Within the book was found the occasional passage referencing his position in the Thieves Guild but not often. It was clear that the writer considered that part of his life to be of lesser importance than his family.
As he reached the later pages Declan found many references to him and the pride and affection Malrius felt for him. But for every statement of love and praise for Declan there were multiples more for Aralith. She could not be unseated as his pride and joy.
At the bottom of the last page Declan read, “I have grown quite fond of the boy. As fond as a father I expect. In fact, when Aralith returns home in the Spring I intend to throw a grand ball where I shall surprise Declan by publicly announcing that he is a free man from that day forth. Furthermore, I will announce to the Guild and all whom I consider dear friends and family that Declan is, from that day forth, to be my. . .”
There the book ended and Declan realized that the final pages had been torn out. He thought of the papers he saw Aralith holding as she left the room and wondered what they said that caused her to tear them out. His musings were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. He couldn’t go back through the door without being seen so he quickly hid in a large wardrobe keeping the door slightly ajar so he could see the room. The door opened and he saw Aralith come in. Tears still flowed down her cheeks, strangely turning to steam as they did so, but the wracking sobs of earlier had passed. She walked over to the bed and stared down at Malrius’ body. Suddenly, she stood up straight as if startled. Slowly she reached out and hesitantly touched the bed beside Malrius’ body as if afraid it would burn her. Declan’s eyes widened as he realized he still held the journal. The spot Aralith was touching was where it had laid. His heart began racing as he prepared for her to raise the alarm. But she didn’t. She just stood there touching the spot where the book had been. Then, without turning or moving, she spoke quietly:
“Declan, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry my brother. I was wrong. I hated and murdered my father over a lie and I can’t take it back. I willingly stepped into the cage built for me and now I’m trapped within. I can’t stop him Declan. Your life is forfeit if they catch you. Run Declan. You have to run. Far away. I couldn’t take having your blood on my hands as well, even though I’m the one who aimed the arrow at you. Run dear brother. Please Run.”
Then she quietly walked to the door and left the room. After a minute Declan slipped out of the wardrobe. On the bed in the spot the journal had been was his white dagger. He picked it up and stared at it. The blade was still stained with Malrius’ blood. When Declan tried to wipe it clean the blood would not come off, though previously Declan knew of nothing that could permanently stain that blade. It had been his most beloved possession. A gift from Malrius in honor of the name he had earned from the Guild, Whitethorn. This beloved item from the man he thought of as Father had been plunged repeatedly into his Father’s body, then finally into his heart, where it stayed while Malrius’ lifeblood flowed out around it until it finally stopped flowing with his death. Declan took the knife and, as tears silently rolled down his cheeks, he snuck out of the manor.
Back at the safe-house he retrieved some clothing and supplies and using Guild passages he snuck out of the city heading north. He had no plan. He had no idea what he was going to do or where he was going to go. He had lost everything. His beloved father was dead, murdered by his equally beloved sister who also framed him for the murder but then begged him to flee to save his life. What did all this mean? What had she meant about a cage built for her? Or a lie that caused her to murder her father? Who told the lie? Who built the cage?
He was in shock and couldn’t clear his head to think of these things, so he just started heading north with no destination in mind. Some weeks later he found himself outside Baldur’s Gate. In his distant memories from childhood, he recalled that Baldur’s Gate was the city his birth father’s caravan had departed from. Whether this meant they had lived there or only that it was where his father did business he couldn’t recall. He also knew there was a community of Calishite’s here in a walled-off section outside the city called Little Calimshan. In his training as a Faction Agent, he had met agents of the Guild Leader of Little Calimshan several times and the leader herself once. He had struck up a friendship with one or two of them. They jokingly invited him to visit them in the cold north so they could pelt him with something called snowballs. After these many weeks on the road, the thought of a place walled off from the strange world and full of fellow Calishites sounded like heaven. So, feeling lost and not knowing what the future held, he approached Baldur’s Gate.
Backstory for Abalus Delos the lizardfolk bard journalist
Once a brave lizard warrior fell in love with a beautiful human woman, given that they knew they’d be looked upon as an odd couple they moved onto the outskirts of civilization. Time passed and they lived their life, before too long they had two small children, Abalus and Devito. While Devito was always very active and loved rough housing, Abalus always had his snout in a book or was picking at his mother’s rich encyclopedia of knowledge.
They lived a happy young life and Abalus learned more and more about these magical places and these creatures like Elves and Dwarves or something that’s an owl and a bear? Oh the wonder! A week after his 18th birthday, Abalus left on his very own adventure to see and write about the world and the people out there. Everything was so new and magical, he absolutely adored it. Before too long he picked up the ability to play an instrument and found it was a nice way to make a quick gold.
Devito found himself joining the army, just like his father. As well he discovered his love for theater and alcohol. Abalus and Devito did not see each other for several years.
Abalus continuing his travels, wrote up some of his own books, met new people, learned how to cast magic with his music. After writing home to his mother and father, he discovered he had the name sake of a mythical isle of amber, called that because while one of his eyes were a soft blue, the other was a vivid amber color. He set out trying to find this island, but coming up dry. For awhile he just kept wandering, letters between his parents became infrequent.
Devito found Abalus playing in a lonely tavern in a city, almost not realizing it was him if it wasn’t for the little press hat that Devito had made Abalus before he left. The hat had since been enchanted as a hat of disguise as, Abalus had discovered not all like lizard men. Abalus was so happy to see his brother though, he came with poor news. Abalus wasn’t the only one finding himself saving people from monsters more, as there started to be frequent appearances of monsters. To make things worse, Devito discovered that their parents had gone missing. So with that they set off in a search for reasons on why monsters are appearing and where their parents went. They met a ranger and sorceress on their travels who joined them as they both hoped to discover the dark ongoings.
Bardic Inspiration is just someone believing in you, and I believe in you