Seems like a good backstory to me - leaves hooks for the DM to play with and makes no demands to monopolize the party's overall story. As for lore-proof, I don't believe in such things. D&D is all about the exceptions... in moderation, that is. I don't see anything particularly outrageous in the story that would demolish large swaths existing lore.
Let the DM have a pass on it. The DM can tailor the campaign for your character story or help tailor your character story for the campaign or find that it fits just fine as-is.
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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.
Here's the (relatively short) backstory of a PC that I just started playing:
Konyan of the Dancing Blade
Konyan of the Dancing Blade was a high elf wizard born in the town of Hockshamhill, in the kingdom of Galoron, in 35 HE. His parents were cobblers, but he wielded magic unlike that of any other before him- bladesinging. When Galoron declared war on its neighbors in 101 HE, Konyan chose to side with his people, the elves, against his native kingdom, even though he hated battle. Over the course of the war, Konyan played a vital role in Galoron’s defeat and in the ultimate usurpation of King Valhein.
After the war, Konyan felt lost and unsure. While he was glad the fighting was over, he knew he couldn't return to his old life. And so Konyan took up adventuring, becoming an explorer and a guardian of the weak and faithless. Along with his blade, Linael, Konyan became well known all across the continent of Borrelia.
All stars fade. Some stars forever fall. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Homebrew (Mostly Outdated):Magic Items,Monsters,Spells,Subclasses ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- If there was no light, people wouldn't fear the dark.
My half-elf druid, Shandri Liadon. It is one of my first times playing and the first time I have really put a lot of effort into a backstory, so don't judge me too much. The campaign take place three or four years after all this tragic backstory stuff.
Shandri was born in an elven village to an elf father and human mother. Her Mother left when she was two after ‘splitting’ with her father. She and her mother made their home in a small agricultural town where her mother remarried. She spent her childhood (age 6 – 19) visiting her father twice a year. She formed quite a close relationship with her elven family. She grew quite attached to Roland, a young man about her age, who she later formed a romantic relationship with and married at the age of 19. The town was very small, and everyone knew and liked (mostly) everyone.
Shandri fell pregnant about 6 months into her marriage and began visiting her elven family more and more for help with the baby. She was on one of her last trips when a pack of Gnolls ravaged the town, leaving destroyed crops and chewed bones in their wake. There were no survivors. Shandri returned to find everyone she knew and loved dead and her whole life destroyed. The grief caused her to lose the baby. Her daughter was stillborn, and the weight of the combined tragedies was too much. She buried her daughter, her last reminder of Roland and her human family, and fled to a life of solitude in the forest.
She learned the secrets of the trees, found inner peace with nature, calmed the anger at the gods for doing this to her that was bubbling inside her and found a balance with the flora and fauna, but she still cannot shake the grief from her shoulders. She carries with her, always, a lock of her dead daughters’ hair, her wedding band and her mother’s locket that was gifted to her by her father. In the attic of her tiny cottage she keeps her wedding dress and veil. She is a sentimental romantic, who cannot seem to let go of the past or the sinking feeling that it was her fault. (read, survivors’ guilt.)
Many years later, she has established herself as a a biannual visitor to the nearby mining town, making cheerful conversation with everybody she meets, hiding her pain behind a smile and a conversation about her garden.
I'm new here(only my 2nd post), so I wanted to ask a question about this thread. My backstory is as follows. Was really into it as a kid but didn't know many who were interested, and never really got to play. :( The internet wasn't a thing and my parents were hippies. We lived in the woods. Anyway, I got turned onto this site, and going totally "ham" as my new DM put it writing up characters. I posted one in the weird thread(highly recommended. it's hilarious), but I have one that is serious. Very serious, and uhm.. Including the customized mechanics it introduces for the DM, is now about 10 pages long, and accordingly to the few I've shared it with so far, actually apparently well written.
My question is this. Is that appropriate to post within this thread, or should I start a thread of it's own to share the story? My thought is in here is more appropriate, but I wanted to be sure. Not trying to hijack the thread.
I'm new here(only my 2nd post), so I wanted to ask a question about this thread. My backstory is as follows. Was really into it as a kid but didn't know many who were interested, and never really got to play. :( The internet wasn't a thing and my parents were hippies. We lived in the woods. Anyway, I got turned onto this site, and going totally "ham" as my new DM put it writing up characters. I posted one in the weird thread(highly recommended. it's hilarious), but I have one that is serious. Very serious, and uhm.. Including the customized mechanics it introduces for the DM, is now about 10 pages long, and accordingly to the few I've shared it with so far, actually apparently well written.
My question is this. Is that appropriate to post within this thread, or should I start a thread of it's own to share the story? My thought is in here is more appropriate, but I wanted to be sure. Not trying to hijack the thread.
Go ahead and post here. If it is 10 pages long, I would put it between Spoiler tags so it only opens for those who want to see it.
[spoiler] your story [/spoiler} (replace the last } with a ] to make the coding work).
Thank you Cyclops! That was literally going to be my follow up. I was seeing the spoiler covers over peoples posts and was wondering how it was done. Thanks again. Probably going to refrain from posting that one here though. Already got some feedback on it was encouraged to not post it publicly, but instead flesh it out more and submit it as a modular content that could be included in or purchased as modular content for GMs. Don't know if it's that good, but at least one other person thought so.
This is my backstory for a new character- saw all the good advice and thought I would post it and see what all you thought.
Born into a prosperous elven town, on the edge of Neverwinter, in the year 1491AD, The Year of the Three Goddesses, Kynsalor’s parents were wealthy purveyors of fine wines and adept spellcasters, both of which were welcome in the town. However, this idyll was shattered when at the age of three, Kynsalor’s town was pillaged and razed to the ground by a warlike tribe of various species, including orcs and half orcs, aasimar, tieflings, bugbears, and even some humans.
His father was killed when he tried to fight back, and his mother taken as a slave to a particularly odious creature known as the Boar to his compatriots. Living as a slave himself for seven years in the wastelands of the Screaming Mountains (Near the northern Sword Coast). However, when he was nine years old, his mother was beaten to death by the Boar after she rebuffed his advances. Two years after that, a silver Dragonborn led an assault on the tribe after hearing of the atrocities committed by it.
During the battle, Kynsalor was almost killed as a hostage by the Boar, only to be saved by an unknown drow paladin, though the Boar escaped with his life after being beaten to within an inch of it by the paladin. After being brought to Waterdeep to have a new life, Kynsalor could not stand the discrimination shown toward drow in the city, at the age of 17 near killing an apprentice who had attacked his friend of the time, also a drow. This episode brought him to the attention of the Watch- and meant he had to be sent to a monastery at the insistence of the boy’s parents to learn ‘discipline’. They did not anticipate the monastery, which was outside of the jurisdiction of the Watch, teaching him the Way of Mercy as well. Only one of those lessons stuck, and when he witnessed a gang of men assaulting a tiefling in the street at the age of twenty ,he snapped and killed three, putting the rest tied together outside the Watch, with a message reading ‘Rough Justice’- the same phrase used by the apprentice’s parents. When questioned about the incident, the leader of the monastery said he had ‘learned his lesson perfectly’. He was taken in by one of Blackstaff’s apprentices to teach him how to control his burgeoning psychic strength, and by extension his emotion. Now with rage and mind in check- at least for now- Kynsalor travels looking for rights to wrong and punishment to mete out.
Orphaned Mountain Dwarf with Elvish Tourette Syndrom. He believes he is an Elf. Speaks Elvish fluently, and dwarvish poorly. He believes he has Elvitiligo(A very serious life threatening condition that causes him to gradually turn into a dwarf)
Ruckus was orphaned as a dwarf and raised by a kind(not really and actually a racist bastard) old elvish ranger lady who lived a solitary life in the mountains. She was an outcast herself due to being really racist towards dwarves. Elves and dwarves, in general, have their beef, but she was so hardcore about it she was kicked out of the rangers and became a druid. Embraced by the nature-loving and just generally down to earth druids at first, eventually, the same thing happened, and she ended up alone in the mountains. That’s where she came across a poor orphaned Mountain Dwarf with just the name Ruckus written on a sign around his neck. He couldn’t even speak yet. She really hated dwarves, but for some reason, little Ruckus just tugged at her heart strings. Long story short, she raised him as her own. Teaching him the ways of the Elvish Rangers and Druids... but she hated dwarves, like with a passion(btw there has never been any revealed legit reason for this hate… at all) so she told Ruckus that he was an Elf like her. She raised him speaking Elvish and he speaks dwarfish like an Elf who did a half ass job of learning it as a second language. He was a little tall and nimble for a dwarf; which is pretty standard for Mountain dwarfs, but he didn’t know that, and with some strict training she managed to teach him some druid magic. Very specific spells that allowed him to make it seem like he could do more than he actually could than he in fact(Control flame), and protect and heal himself and others around him, because although unreasonably racist, Old lady Elfwyn was no fool. She knew she was raising someone who likely be having his ass beaten.. A lot. All this plus a healthy focus on Acrobatic training helped keep up the illusion that Ruckus Elfwyn was in fact an Elf. As Ruckus got older though, this fact became harder and harder to hide, so finally she had to tell him the truth….
He had a very rare life threatening condition that caused him(an Elf of course) to gradually and slowly turn start looking like a Dwarf as he grew older. This did cover the lie forever with little room for debate, because it’s not exactly easy for someone in this context to confirm the legitimacy of a medical diagnosis, but it had a consequence. Ruckus is fiercely loyal. Ride or die loyal with anyone he has become close with. The thought this condition was going to kill him(she said it was life threatening) made him not concerned for himself, but for her. What would she do when he was gone?
He set out right away from home on a quest to find a cure for Elvitiligo, and considers everything else a side quest. Often pointing that out in fact, regardless of the nature or importance of the current quest the group is on. Having been beaten up while growing up a dwarf among mostly elves who knew he was not a dwarf, he developed a very peculiar tick that is known as Tourette Syndrome. He at times will randomly twitch and yell out profanity(in elvish of course). This generally doesn’t happen during moments of stress or conflict but rather when everything is chill and people are calmly talking. Because of this. Ruckus isn’t invited to a lot the meetings when the crew is accepting new quests. That’s fine with him. That’s just a side question anyway….
In general, Ruckus hates dwarves. Not as much as old lady Elfwyn, but enough for it to be awkward. Having lived a mostly solitary life with her, he has very little actual life experience to base any legitimate hate on. Instead it’s all distilled 2nd hand from the constant griping of Lady Elfwyn always complaining about “those damn smelly dwarves”. This gets him into trouble constantly, but those who are close to him know not to even bother with the argument anymore. Let Ruckus think he’s an Elf. He’s not hurting anyone.. Well himself, but not that much.. well often and a lot, but hey pick your battles.
Ruckus fell into the Pirating life eventually by happenstance when he was mistaken for being a pirate already due to his Tourette syndrome acting up so much. A nearby Pirate crew overheard him having a particularly loud episode and thought that nobody but a Pirate would be swearing that much at apparently at nothing… He was immediately accepting as one of their own. Initially reluctant due to being raised a very honorable elf ranger/druid, he quickly realized that galavanting around the high seas with a crew of people who liked to drink as much as him, and seemed to have no real direction and thus ended up in many random places, was actually the perfect place to hopefully run across the cure for his Elvitiligo.
In his actually surprisingly short time as a pirate he has managed to lose an eye. This makes him look the part way more than actually fit it, and he is at best an amateur Pirate and not a really good one considering the honest nature of druids and elves in general. He has made several friends(at least he considers them that) that he would almost die for, and most importantly know better than to argue with him about the Elvitiligo(you won’t win). Bottom line is that he’s got to survive so he can take care of Old Lady Elfwyn, and is willing to take significant injury(he’s used to it and has healing magic) to protect his crew, but he does have to live for Old LE.
As for losing the eye, that happened fairly recently during a bet that required Ruckus to perform a feat of horse acrobatics common to the elvish rangers he claims to be. Thus proving that was in fact, ”an Elf Ranger/Druid, and not a damn smelly dwarf!”. He was drunk(on elvish mead of course), and had a bottle in hand. Being a Pirate party. This was not the kind of party you put your mead down at. If you were lucky it wouldn’t be there when you got back. If you were unlucky, it was still there and you drank it(because pirates don’t waste Booze) and… well yeah you don’t put your mead down at a Pirate party and Ruckus knew this already. He decided to double down and claim he was going to pull it off mead in hand and not spill a drop…. He lost his eye. On the mead bottle. (Side note: Ruckus only drinks Elvish Booz, and will never under any circumstances regardless of how thirsty drink anything dwarven). He claims this doesn’t prove anything though because since there was money involved(he lost 1 GP his life savings at the time) it had to be some dark dwarf magic or something like that that caused him to fail the triple back flit arrow show he attempted.
Notes: Lady Elfwyn is LE and Ruckus refers to her as that for short
The Tourette syndrome is not in control of the player but the DM. During appropriate times the DM will make a roll with whatever modifiers they choose to determine if Ruckus has an outburst. If he does, then player improvs the outburst and limits it to only 1 sentence max.
Ruckus is in possession of an odd assortment of items that mostly were given to him by Old LE. They are various levels of usefulness and were mostly given to him in order to perpetuate the lie of Ruckus being an Elf. The most cherished among these is his Magic Elvish Dagger(actually dwarven) that was given to him the day he left home. The dagger so he was told has been handed down through the Elfwyn line for generations, but in actuality it is a dwarven dagger. This was stolen from an old lover of LE; who happened to be a dwarf. After he scorned her, she stole that and many other things from him and this is the reason Old Lady Elfwyn hates dwarves so much. Ruckus is totally unaware of all of this.
Other items and their status:
Ring of Animal Influence, Ring of Evasion, Ring of Protection, Ring of Jumping
Gruul Guild Signet - Doesn’t know that the compelled duel effect of this often gets him into fights. He just thinks people are picking fights because they are jealous of him being an Elf with magical powers.
Orzhov Guild Signet - Doesn’t realize that pretty much any time someone gives into him and agrees that he is an Elf, that it was this rings effect kicking in.
Ring of mind shielding - Helps perpetuate the lie of Ruckus the elf by shielding him from various forms of magic and detection that would in fact prove he is a dwarf.
All of the above is worn by him. He thinks they are not magical and doesn’t know how to consciously use them. The slight benefits they give him at seemingly random times he attributes to his being an Elf with magical powers. DM creates mechanic and controls the activation of all those items.
Elfwyns old Ranger gear(modified to fit a dwarf obviously)
Boots of Elvenkind - wearing them but doesn’t know what they do. Just knows they are elvish, and they actually are!
Cloak of Elvenkind - Same story as boots.
Efficient Quiver - Standard issue for the Elvish Rangers LE was part of. Ruckus actualy can use this, but doesn’t realize it can be used to store other things besides arrows. He doesn’t know how to tell how much are left though, so is usually very surprised when he runs out of arrows.
Bag of holding - A very handy item.. If he knew how to use it. Stolen by LE from the same dwarf she got the dagger from, she gave it Ruckus when he left home. With no idea on how to properly use it, he hardly ever pulls the desired item out of it, and several very handy ones are currently lost inside. When socializing Ruckus is often digging through the bag trying to fine one “Elvish” artifact or another that will prove he is in fact an Elf.
Bag of Tricks - Another very handy item if Ruckus knew how to use it properly. Given to him to make him think he had the power of “summoning” by LE. -Currently lost in bag of holding.
Bun-Bun of soothing - Don’t ask. No really don’t. -Currently lost in the bag of holding. Ruckus is very upset about this.
Spell Scroll/Acid vial/etc. - All of this is lost in the bag of holding including most of his money, and whenever he tries to pull out either the bag of tricks(his summoning totem) or the Bun-Bun of soothing(don’t ask), he usually gets one of these items at random, or something he had no idea he had but is equally useless for the task at hand. Item pulled is determined by DM roll, and can have a slight chance of pulling something actually useful of the DMs choosing and discretion.
I'm pretty excited for this campaign to start lol.
Oh my lord, that is a very extensive backstory and i applaud your creativity. he sounds like hes going to be a lot of fun to role play, i hope it goes well.
Oh my lord, that is a very extensive backstory and i applaud your creativity. he sounds like hes going to be a lot of fun to role play, i hope it goes well.
Thanks! When I started telling a DM my idea he got picked up for a Pirate campaign they were planning right away. I'm sure it will be a blast. What could possibly go wrong in the story of Ruckus... ohhhh crap... yeah this guy is doomed...
Just got my latest creation into a promising-looking campaign!
Meet Thelonious Gruvspinner - Half Elf - Junky - Bard/Rogue with a sentient Lute named Jone's that mostly makes snarky discouraging comments to him. Thelonious has it coming. Trust me. I wrote up not just a backstory on this one, but an actual little(but very entertaining short story that goes along with it)
Here's the backstory as well as the short story I titled "The Sundering of Jones" to fit into the lore the DM has come up with. Trust me. It's good. :)
Thelonious is an addict. (He prefers the name Gruv by the way, but nobody ever calls him that, but he thinks of himself in that name.) He could be a great musician. It’s in his blood, or so he’s been told by his grandad that left him his enchanted Lute(probably stolen). The problem is that Thelonious is a hardcore addict to not just one but many vices. Booze, smoke, things you eat that do things to you besides nourishing you, and of course women. These vices tend to get in his way a lot when it comes to getting ahead in life. Once a promising student(for like a week) of the College of Lore, and determined to become "World Famous Bard", those endeavors were short-lived. He was admitted not due to being a great musician, although he did have talent, but because he showed some innate magical ability. That being so rare in Asterion, it got your foot in the door almost anywhere. That's basically as far as it got him before he promptly got the boot though. The instructors tend not to look too kindly on you showing up to class with a wench from the local brothel on one arm, and a mostly drank jug of mead being waved around belligerently by the other. They look even less kindly on it when you throw up all over the priceless enchanted Viol they had brought to class to demonstrate the proper way to play The Sonet of Eponine.... Twice. His argument that it couldn't be that enchanted if a little regurgitated mead did that much damage to it did not go over well, and so he became drop out(kicked out actually).
These kinds of shenanigans tend to hold Gruv back a lot. Especially when it comes to that whole “become a world-famous bard” endeavor he’s always prattling on about when he gets on one... or two…. Ok let’s be honest it’s normally at least 3 or 4. The hold up there is Thelonious… sorry Gruv has a temper.
It's hard to commit to an instrument when you're constantly breaking it, and this is the general blight of Gruv’s existence. He's always breaking stuff. Usually his, but not always, which of course is a problem as well. You see, it's very hard to learn the lute. Even if you have grandpa's magical lute that was passed down(probably stolen) to you. Even more so if that lute was just smashed into the face of someone who insulted your performance of Serapsis Redemption. This is, in fact, what Thelonious has just done. The real problem with splintering your treasured family heirloom to pieces across the face of a half-orc is that.... well first. You now have no more lute. Much less one that was handed down to you by your pappy. Repairable?... Yeah, probably not. Part of it is embedded into the face of the half-orc(good luck retrieving those bits), he swallowed a good portion of the rest(yeah you don’t want that back) of it just to spite you and show you how little it actually hurt him, and at this point, you hold in your hand a piece of wood with a few strings and splinters hanging from it. More likely to hinder your ability to attack or defend rather than help it. You should probably drop it and run now…
The Sundering of Jones:
Thelonious burst out the door of the tavern! The remnants of his pappy’s lute jangle from his hand and tangle around his ankles, causing him to trip and fall face-first into the dirt. The Lute(well what's left of the Lute) almost seems to try to consciously roll away from Gruv but doesn’t get far. It is a tangle of strings and wood at this point, so it doesn’t really possess the physical attributes of something that can roll. Gruv immediately forgets about this though, as he has just realized that he left his bag in the tavern, and that bag has… well not much in it, but it does have his gold, and he needs a fix. Bad. He quickly rolls over and assesses the situation. He can see the Orc, well Half-Orc(yeah right Gruv thinks that guy is huge) from the waist down walking casually towards the batwing doors of the tavern. They swing open a few times in the wake of Gruv’s exit and with each swing open he can see the Orcs expression gradually turn, in cut frame animation style, from a frown into a smile as he sees Gruv lying prone on the ground, appearing to be just waiting for the inevitable beating he is going to receive. Gruv mainly has his attention focused on retrieving his gold though.
He’s trying to get his orientation so he can figure out where he is now in relation to his bag. Let’s see, it wasn’t by the stage where he had just performed. A quite good performance if he did say so himself. He’s not generally good at taking negative feedback anyway, and he does admit this, but right now was not the day to be laughing at his rendition of "Serapsis Redemption”. Most of his songs were about Serapsis because well, she was the goddess of wine, and so Gruv most closely identified with her outlook on life/the afterlife/whatever she liked Wine, he liked Wine, that was enough for her to become his favorite among the many gods of this world. Regardless, he was jonesing hard, and that made him…. Well let’s just say cranky. THE TABLE! That’s right he had left his bag on the table with his drink(wait... did he finish it?..)
He sees his move. It’s risky, and it’s going to hurt, but he should survive. The table is to his right just on the other side of the tavern window. He had picked that one so he could watch the whores across the street without being harassed for gawking at them without payment. He had been beaten up for that before. Several times. By the whores. Sometimes the Pimps, but usually just the whores. Hey, the whores of New Devas were used to fending off much more dangerous foes than Gruv, and could generally handle themselves in a fight. He was honestly more scared of them than this Half-Orc when it came down to it.
He waits for the batwing doors to swing shut one last time and rolls to the right as they do. He’s hoping the effect will be that the Orcs' view will be obstructed enough that he won’t be able to see which way he has rolled, and hopefully, this will buy him a few extra seconds. He gets up and looks at the window of the tavern he is now standing in front of. He knew already it was not a window that opened, and so had already determined he was going to have to dive through it. With a grimace, he hurls himself forward through the window; which he just now realizes he’s probably going to have to pay for, crashes over the table, spilling his drink(goddamnit), and falling with a painful crunch(was that his flute.. Goddamnit again) onto the tavern floor.
He did manage to grab his bag in the tumbling mess that was supposed to be the slick retrieval of his loot, followed by a triumphant wink and smile to the Orc, as he finished his drink and jumped back out the window. Yeah, it didn’t quite go down like that. The smell of piss, blood, vomit, booze, and whatever else gets tracked onto the floor in a place like this on the boots of its patrons, is so strong in his nostrils that it makes him dizzy, and he actually stumbles a bit from it when he gets up. Gods, that was foul. He could have sworn he saw an eyeball(real classy establishments he's been frequenting as of late) under the table as well, but can't be sure since the smell drove him to his feet faster than gnomish thief(damn he hated gnomes). After staggering for a moment, he bumps into a wall and braces himself… Wait, that’s not a wall. It’s the half-orc, and now he’s really smiling.
Clearly not fooled by what Gruv thought was a pretty slick move, the Orc had just watched in amusement as Gruv threw himself through a window back into the tavern, and then incoherently staggered right back up to him. Goddamnit. A moment later Gruv is tossed back out the window(a different one that he will also have to pay for) by the Orc and back into the street. Landing conveniently enough right next to the remains of his precious Lute.
“If it’s so precious why did you use it as an ill-conceived weapon?”, Jones says inside his head with his typical noble accent.
“Shut up Jones”, he yells back out loud.
This causes several people to turn and look at him, as seeing someone tossed out of this bar isn’t necessarily something that is worthy of even turning your head to look at, if the victim starts acting crazy, like say starts having an argument with themselves, then maybe it’s worth taking a gander. At the very least to see if you need to move further away from what is about to be probably a pretty entertaining shit show. No, Gruv isn’t crazy, he’s a junky. When he’s really jonesing, that means he’s not currently high, drunk, or between the thighs of some other distraction, he tends to start to question himself and his decisions a lot more than he normally does. This manifests itself in what he swears to god is a voice in his head. One with a noble accent of some kind, although he can't place it, and doesn't get why his own internal dialogue would have a noble accent come to think of it... He knows it’s not real, but it really does sound that way sometimes to the point he snaps at it out loud. Yet another thing that tends to get him into trouble or at the very least create awkward moments. He looks over at the Lute, which he can swear just moved of its own accord away from him, and hastily gathers up what’s left of it and stuffs it haphazardly into his bag.
Getting up, he looks back at the saloon-style batwing doors of the tavern, expecting to see the half-orc(has to be a full orc) sauntering out to end the life of Gruv with as much pain as possible. Nobody comes out. Huh? Not sure what the hold up is there, but he’s not waiting around to find out. The dizziness from the tavern floor has passed, and it was momentarily replaced by the dizziness of being tossed back out the window, but now his head is clear enough to get up and actually make a run for it. He does just that and manages to get around a corner before the half-orc comes out and sees him. At least, he hopes he didn’t see him. Calling what he just did a mad dash would be being far too generous regarding the coherency with which he did it, so he’s just pretty sure the half-orc didn’t see him, but not totally sure. He quickly rounds several other corners and then comes to rest against the wall of an alley, once he’s sure that he’s not being followed by the brute. Now he’s really jonesing, and when that happens Jones starts to get really annoying.
“That went well I think?”, Jones says into his head in an obviously sarcastic tone.
“I told you to shut up!”, he manages to keep this dialogue internal this time.
“Why bother shutting up. You're just going to drown me out with the inevitable inebriation that you constantly seek as soon as possible. May as well get in my digs while I can you know.”, he says jovially.
“Fair enough, but could you give me a minute here to collect myself?”, he pleads to Jones.
“Uhmm. No. I will not do that. I’m quite annoyed with you actually. Do you know what it feels like to have part of oneself digested while the rest of you is still conscious and aware of the parts being digested?”, he inquires in what seems like a not sarcastic tone at all.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about or care. Please shut up Jones?”, he pleads again with a sigh.
Jones tends to do this as he sobers up more. He starts going on and on about things that just don’t make any sense to Gruv, and honestly, he just doesn’t care about. This is just a manifestation of his addictions that could be the indication of a potentially serious mental problem after all, so giving it too much thought is probably not too healthy in his opinion. Gruv get’s up, brushes himself off, takes a little time to re-arrange his bag, and takes a little more care in arranging the tangled mess of the lute into something that he can at least carry without damaging further.
“Thank you.”, Jones says into his head.
“Shut up Jones!” he yells out loud again.(Gods Damnit)
Thankfully, Jones does shut up at this point, so Gruv gets himself together the rest of the way and gets ready to head back out into the traffic of the day. He really needs a drink at this point, having spilled the one back at the bar in the clumsy retrieval of his bag. Oh crap! This is when he remembers the crunch on the floor. If he broke his flute he was so screwed, because that was his last functional instrument. It normally survived his various misadventures because it was actually made of metal. A pretty strong metal actually as it had withstood some things he honestly thinks it shouldn’t have. Knowing his luck though, this might finally have been the end of it. He quickly rifles through his bag and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees the Flute still intact. One of these days he should get it looked at by someone who knows metal and can tell him what it’s made of. He’s avoided doing this though, because he’s afraid it’s actually something quite valuable, and if he is aware of that he will likely pawn it off the first chance he gets to buy something to get him drunk, high, or into the bed of a wench. He’s smart enough to realize this and so has decided to set himself up for success in this regard by keeping himself naive as to the material content of the instrument.
Satisfied that the crunch he heard most likely came from inside him(he'll heal...probably), he closes the bag back up and starts looking for another tavern(or anywhere serving drink really). This was going to prove somewhat difficult because finding one that he had not already been kicked out of or owed a tab that he was not ready to pay was getting to be harder and harder in this New Devas. It may be time to move on, but that generally required more gold than Gruv had, so he was somewhat stuck it would seem. He still had the flute(thank the gods), and he could play it well enough to generally earn himself enough coin to get by. Worst case scenario, he could fight. If you could fight, there was generally always some work for you. The thing is that Gruv didn’t like to fight. Well, he did like to fight, but just not the serious kind of fighting. Bar brawls were fun. Generally, nobody lost a limb in a bar brawl, although there was that eye under the table and the memory of that does give him pause....
Yes, it could happen, but it was much less likely to happen than in an actual fight on a battleground with swords and axes and such. Gruv didn’t like that kind of fighting at all. He was very fond of his limbs. One in particular actually, and that one seemed to get targeted a lot on battlefields. At least he seemed to notice a lot of warriors on the ground with arrows sticking out from between their legs, an ax embedded in what was probably not an inner thigh, or just missing their bottom half entirely. The point was that people tended to aim for the nether regions a lot in combat and that Gruv was just not ok with. I mean seriously, what is wrong with people? There was this Rogue that he knew named Shivs that was always stabbing people in the balls or their nether region equivalent. The guy would have the perfect chance to stab them in the back and be done with it, but would wait for them to turn around so he could look them in the eye and stab them right in their family jewels! Who does that?!
He put those thoughts aside as he continued his main quest. Finding a drink. He didn’t have much coin left and this was usually the most affordable form of intoxication available in any given town. What he was willing to drink to get knackered usually didn’t much matter to him, and had ingested some pretty foul things in order to achieve his desired state of mind at times. He would never drink Orc piss again though. Allowing himself to be convinced that the piss of a full-blooded orc, allowed to age through the full moon while sealed in a clay pot with gnomish brewing enchantments, would get him drunk was a real low point. Not just in the self-respect department, but in the pocketbook. That “enchanted” gnomish brewing pot had set him back 20 GP. He was gonna have words with that little bastard if he ever found him again. I mean, it most definitely did not work. He tried it… Twice just to be sure. It definitely doesn’t work. Although it didn’t taste as bad as he had expected and he was able to hold it down. That is why he was sure it didn't work. What was that little bastard's name again... Namfoodle or Gimble or something. Gnomes always had the silliest names, and their constant cheerfulness really got on his nerves. After being ripped off and tricked into drinking Orc piss by one, he had actually started to develop an actual geniune dislike of them. Yeah, he wasn’t falling for that again. Fool me once shame on me. Fool me twice… wait was trying it a second time to be sure being fooled twice?
“Yes.”, Jones said blandly.
“Shut up Jones!”, he managed to say internally this time. (Thank the gods)
End of The Sundering of Jones
Gruv did find a bar he could go into without being immediately beaten, stabbed, or shaken upside down to dislodge any hidden Gold he may be carrying. Shortly after the events of that day though, Thelonious found himself in a similar situation, but this time there were no bars left in town, and he did in fact lose the flute. He took this as a sign to move on, so he made his way down to the docks to see if he could bargain his way onto a ship. Ships had booze on them, right? He was a bard after all and long voyages needed entertainment right? Nevermind the fact that he didn't have a functional instrument. That was a detail that could be sorted out later. Hopefully, it didn't get him tossed overboard. Approaching the docks, a familiar word started standing out from the general din of noise in this area of town. He couldn't make it out at first, but it triggered memories... Memories of... Orc piss! He then realized that what was being yelled by a grizzled looking little gnome(damn he hated those bastards) was, "Ship going to Deimos! Needs hands! Ship to Deimos! 3 squares and a cot for hands!" By the grace of the gods! He realized why that sounded familiar. That was the island the little twerp that sold him that bunk gnomish brewing pot had said he was going to. That's why he needed the 20 GP from Gruv. He was buying a ticket to that island for... Well, Gruv had mostly stopped listening and tuned out at that point, but he thought he had heard something about a Gnome town, Gnomish magic or something like that. Whatever. If Namfiddler or Giblets or whatever his name was had gone there, he was gonna find that spastic little rambler, beat his ass right good, get his 20 GP back, and maybe even make him drink some Orc piss.
The Lute “Jones”
Jones in the story is actually the Lute talking to him. It is a conscious NPC that speaks into the mind of its owner. Gruv doesn’t hear it most of the time because he’s usually intoxicated, and this prevents the Lute from being heard. When he starts to Sober up, he is able to hear it, but he attributes it to his need for one of his various vices, so he is not aware that the Lute is in fact conscious. This changes though when Gruv gets on the ship. Forced to sober up because he didn't realize the ship was run by a bunch of Gnomish Clerics that didn't drink(now he really hates gnomes), he began to hear Jones more clearly and started actually listening. It then becomes clear that he is not crazy, and was not suffering from addiction based hallucinations. Jones is in fact real. Huh. He didn't see that coming. Given this new understanding of the nature of Jones's being an actual conscience entity, made Gruv feel pretty bad about smashing it to bits on the Orcs face. It made him feel especially bad about the bits that had been swallowed by that Orc. He has made Jones a promise that he will be sure to get him fixed as soon as he can afford it... and of course, comes across someone that can repair an enchanted Lute with a consciousness inside. That probably isn't something you get done at the average corner shop. Jones doesn’t really like Gruv, but has grown fond of him over time. It was not in fact handed down through the generations of Gruv’s family and was stolen by his grandfather(a Rogue/Bard) at some point. It is a quite valuable enchanted Lute that was created by the College of Creation. It was actually probably a good thing he got kicked out before anyone noticed it. It was meant for greatness and is now reduced to being played in seedy(and smelly) establishments for the entertainment of brutes, miscreants, and other individuals below the noble status it was meant to entertain. Repairing Jones - Jones can potentially be repaired, but if this happens s and how is up to the GM. The outline of the idea for how this could take place is as follows: Repairing jones would require the assistance of the original maker(determined by GM), if Gruv is able to find this individual, then he will find out that they are not so happy with his grandfather, and by proxy not so happy with him. The Lute was created for use by a great bard studying the College of Spirits, and the fact that it has fallen into the hands of Gruv is insulting to them. The thing is that the use of the Lute requires that it has a connection with the musician, and at this point that is Gruv. The maker considers the Lute a friend(because it is conscious), so is willing to help repair it. For a price. Stats of Jones - First of all, Jones is not its real name. The name up to Gm, but it's likely something unpronounceable in common tongues. Stats and effects of a repaired “Jones” are up to the GM. One idea is to give Jones a limited set of actions he can take on his own in combat or out of it that are controlled by the GM, but again totally up to GM on what the repaired Jones actually does. That's just an idea. For now, Gruv did manage to win a new Lute; albeit a pretty shoddy one, in a dice game aboard the ship to Deimos. Jones is jealous of the new Lute and constantly insults it as a hack that couldn't generate a proper tone if you strung with the hair of an Angel and oiled those strings with milk from the nipples of Serpsis herself.
Shivs the Halfling Theif - Monk/Rogue - Was raised by an abusive master in a cultish sect of the Way of the Shadow and is on quest of Vengeance and Pastries.
Shivs is a Lightfoot Halfling with anything but a light foot, and a serious sweet tooth. Growing up being trained in the way of the shadow most of your life will instill some pretty strict… well ethics isn’t the right word, let’s say routine!… Anyway, that was a long time ago. Now he’s a thief. A thief with a very strict set of rules he follows in any given situation. Not different rules for different situations. Same set of rules. Every situation. Every time. You wouldn’t call it a code exactly so much as an ill conceived canned plan of action that he applies to most situations. His general rules are as follows:
The best place to stab someone is not in the back. It’s in the nether regions. This doesn’t have to do with just being a bastard(although he is), and it isn’t about some weird fascination with the stabbing of genitals(at least… it mostly isn’t). It’s actually very specifically thought out. First of all, in most kingdoms aiming for the nether’s isn’t considered attempted murder, and therefore doesn’t get you a trip to the guillotine. It will most likely result in just a standard beating by the town guards and a few nights in the dungeon. Second of all, if Shivs is going to stab someone he usually wants them to suffer. You usually live through a stab to the jewels. You just wish you hadn’t. That’s definitely more his style.
Never steal something you don’t have a buyer for. Shivs cares very little for anything other than Gold(to buy pastries), so if he can’t very quickly turn an item into Gold, he’s usually not trying to steal it. It would be nice if he a pastry chef/fence, but it’s just generally not a pair professions you see paired up in the same humanoid. Maybe a non humanoid?…. Regardless, he generally has to convert his stolen goods to gold to buy pastries, and whiskey.
Never hurt someone you’re stealing from…. Unless you have been paid to do so, and then only exactly the amount you have been paid to. No freebies.
No drinking on the job. He’s learned this the hardware. Several times
The Backstory of Shivs:
Excerpt" Then, there was the fateful day of the Tournament between their Way of the Shadow Temple, and a friendly rival temple following the Way of the Drunken Master. Long story short, Shivs got not just drunk for the first time but plastered. He didn’t so much as make a fool of himself as kick the ever-loving crap out of everyone to an extent that was deemed to be “not very sportsmanlike”. He even managed to take down one of the masters(old fart had it coming) from his temple, and one two from the drunken temple, before they were able to subdue him. They actually didn’t do this in fact, and we was never “subdued”.He just got tired of beating up everyone at that spot and knew he needed to get back to the temple, so figure that was the easiest way to get a ride. Master(not anymore) Moon already had that Jade Dragon(well a piece of it, I mean the status was pretty big. Now way the whole thing was going to fit)"
Read the backstory section here:
When entering an establishment he does not do the standard threat assessment most professional thieves employ, which is usually to start by identifying the exits. He doesn’t do it first. He does it last.
Never mind the way/s out. Where’s the loot. Identify all the valuables because… Gold buys pastries.. He spends a lot of money on sweets.
Identify any potential threats that are specifically between him and said valuables. Ignore all other threats for now.
Acquire said valuables as quickly as possible with a secondary focus on as stealthy as possible.
Re-identify threats in the room but now with an emphasis on those between him and the exits, which until this exact point in the steps he has not yet done.
Identify the exits.
Attempt to extract oneself while maintaining possession of said valuables.(usually unsuccessfuly)
The primary reason for this lack of success is that although Shivs loves gold(and pastries), but there is one thing he loves even more. He loves to fight, and he really likes stabbing people in the nether regions. He will often opt to do this rather than escape with the valuables if someone looks at him for funny, or at any point indicates that they are about to rat him out! Actually ratting him out? Definitely stabbed in the nether for that one as a top priority before extraction of self from the premises.
Although working his way through life as a lowly pickpocket(pretty decent actually) and sneak thief(he’s learning), he does have aspirations of greatness. Well, aspirations of richness to be exact. That’s not richness as in gold(although that is required to achieve his ends), but richness in flavor. Shivs has a serious sweet tooth. On the verge of addiction level serious sweet tooth.
The thing to know about Shivs is that he grew up really poor. Hermit poor, and in fact you could say Monk poor. That’s because for most of his life Shivs was a Monk. Training in the Way of Shadow until early adulthood, he never quite felt like he fit in with other Monks. Everyone was training to be hardcore assassins(sociopath much), and spys(way to much work), but he just excelled at and genuinely enjoyed kicking the crap out of people. He didn’t really want to kill them. Especially the ones he didn’t like. He preferred if they survived and suffered the beat down he had given them. He wanted them to know that he had bested them. You don’t know that someone has bested you, if you have been killed in that besting because…. Well you’re dead. That didn’t sound nearly as satisfying to Shiv. Unfortunately, his training would require him to kill a lot of people. Including his brother(not by blood but whatever).
Then, there was the fateful day of the Tournament between their Way of the Shadow Temple, and a friendly rival temple following the Way of the Drunken Master. Long story short, Shivs got not drunk for the first time, but plastered. He didn’t so much as make a fool of himself as kick the ever-loving crap out of everyone to an extent that was deemed to be “not very sportsmanlike”. He even managed to take down one of the masters(old fart had it coming) from his temple, and one two from the drunken temple, before they were able to subdue him. They actually didn’t do this in fact, and we was never “subdued”.He just got tired of beating up everyone at that spot and knew he needed to get back to the temple, so figure that was the easiest way to get a ride. Master(not anymore) Moon already had that Jade Dragon(well a piece of it, I mean the status was pretty big. Now way the whole thing was going to fit) shoved so far up his ass he would never walk again….Yeah he had gone there, but actually didn’t want to think about it. Now he knows how far is too far. He’s going to leave it at that.
Although humiliating to him(so they thought, he feels they should be the ones who are embarrassed), this was a wake up call for Shivs. The masters of course were more than willing to forgive the transgression. First of all. Shivs was apparently one bad bad man. In a good way. In a you’re a badass motherf#*er way. He already had kind of knew this, but had never really got the chance to express his full rage against so many other opponents. Nobody stood a chance. He had taken down most of the students from both temples. Admittedly not all of them, but only because after seeing what he had done to a good number of them, the rest decided to promptly exit the scene with as much of the booze and snacks as possible. He had also more importantly(at least to Shivs) taken down the masters. All of them. From both sides. At least the ones at the tournament. Halfling martial arts masters my foot. They wanted him to be an assassin. He clearly didn’t have the focus and let’s be honest patience(no he did not) to be a spy, but he had “immeasurable potential”. Yeah, potential kick your ass again old man. Also, in the end Shivs was young, had gotten carried away, so a few people got injured. Nobody was hurt seriously… well hurt THAT seriously, and at least nobody had died… Well, Master Moon was unfortunately not doing so well, and they were really having a hard time retrieving that Jade Dragon Statue, well pieces of it, but everyone generally agreed that the old fart had it coming. He would recover though… probably. Anyway, that didn’t really matter to Shivs anymore. He was pissed.
The night of the incident Excerpt:
You see, the problem is this… You don’t get to have any fun at the Way of The Shadow temple. No food except rice and fish all day long. They only drink water and tea, and the tea is made out of rice! What the Fairies man! When he met the Way of the Drunken Master monks, his mind had been blown. These guys knew how to elfing party! They singing and laughing and fighting for fun while having a fest! A fricken Feast! Fruits; which had tried of course when out in the wilds and such, but also fruit juice(geniuses), nuts, berries, this stuff called cheese, and these things they called pastries that was pretty sure were the most delicious things on the planet.
Read the night of the incident here:
Shiv’s is pissed. Really, really pissed. He could go on, but you get the idea. You see, the problem is this… You don’t get to have any fun at the Way of The Shadow temple. No food except rice and fish all day long. They only drink water and tea, and the tea is made out of rice! What the Fairies man! When he met the Way of the Drunken Master monks, his mind had been blown. These guys knew how to elfing party! They singing and laughing and fighting for fun while having a fest! A fricken Feast! Fruits; which had tried of course when out in the wilds and such, but also fruit juice(geniuses), nuts, berries, this stuff called cheese, and these things they called pastries that was pretty sure were the most delicious things on the planet. He would stab anyone in the balls that argued otherwise. No really. He would, but we’ll get to that. None of that really “blew his mind”. He knew that there was other things to eat out there obviously, and had sampled various fares when he had the chance. That was really no big deal. The big deal was the big, no giant keg of what they called Elvish Porter, and the smaller(but not by much) keg of Drow Whiskey aged with spider venom they had brought. What was this al-co-hol thing? Did it taste good. That question was met with shrugs and a few laughs, so he figured what the heck. What’s the worst that could happen right?
It didn’t take long for Shivs to get properly twisted on that Draw Whiskey, and the Spider Venom gave it just enough edge to keep him sharp… This was gods damn awesome! It felt great! Why was he being deprived of these luxuries at his temple. What the actual ****! After a few of the flagons of the Porter.. well a few is 6 right?.. And only a few handfuls of small goblets of the Drow Whiskey, he decided enough was enough. He was going to go back over to the Way of the Shackles My Shoul Temple(which was what he was affectionately now calling it)camp to give his masters a piece of his mind. Some of the Drunken masters tried to stop him, and he proceeded to break no less than 3 arms, 4 or maybe it was 5 legs, definitely some faces, yeah lots of faces, impossible to count numbers of fingers, and a few knee caps for good measure. By this time some of the Shadow Temple warriors were coming over to see what the heck was going on. Let’s be honest they were already on their way before this because that party was already getting way out of hand. That one was hard to keep track of. He was already bored of breaking extremities, so he decided to work on his speed jabs and quick kicks to the body. I mean, if you count every crunch he heard as a bone broken then, oh let’s say 137? Maybe no. It was 139. Some of those may not have been full breaks though, so he didn’t give himself credit where it wasn’t do. He Just rounded it down to a solid 130 and moved on. Hey at least he avoided there faces! Most of them(yeah sorry Wang Tu, you were just kind of a dick), were still pretty enough and had both eyes(sorry again Wang Tu).
Then came the drunken masters. The drunken students were all promptly packing up their stuff(mostly the booze and food. Tents you could replace, but that drow whiskey was a miracle for Seronos) and getting the f out of Drevas as fast as possible. In fact it looked like some of the Shadow students were going with them. Come to think of it, he had seen them at the party! They knew what he knew! They were just too scared to do anything about it, and now they were fleeing the scene!For some reason that made him really mad!He was gonna find those guys one day, and he was going to kick their asses. Not kill them. That was not his style, but asses would be kicked. Hard. That thought of future beatings that he would be delivering to these fellow students, of what he would now call the way of the wuss, gave him calm. He turned to the drunken master.
There were now two drunken masters, and one had a cane(really..)…wait no.. he had to squint to be sure.. yeah definitely two of them now. but they were drunk. Very drunk, and yes he was drunk to, but he also trained way of the shadow and ate only rice for faro’s sake. These guys trained in getting drunk and eating pastries and getting drunk more. They had shared those pastries, and those tasty(and not so tasty but effective) beverages with him though. He liked these guys. He didn’t want to hurt them and he was hoping to join them at some point. They really knew how to party!
He just subdued them, and let’s be honest it was not difficult. He may have broke one of their canes, but the old man had hit him in the balls with it and, that crap had hurt! He had no idea. He had never really been hit square in the elventree nuts like that before. Grazed? Sure. He knew some discomfort, but that usually happened in the middle of a no holds barred fight to either the death(you did that in way of the shadow) or at least unconsciousness. Adrenaline and Ki got you right through that quicker than gnome will grift you for your mead. He had just battled his way through countless warriors that were there for a pretty intense temple on temple tournament with a nice Jade Dragon statue as a prize. The statue got utterly destroyed the night of the incident though, but that’s besides the point, and it happened later anyway during the battle(well not so much battle as utter slaying) with master moon.
You see in the way of the shadow you train for kill shots. A shot to the jewels doesn’t usually do that, so we generally don’t train to aim for it. Even with our hand to hand combat, were aiming for pressure points, spots that will knock the wind out of you, blind you, choke you, or just outright remove consciousness from you. Aiming directly for someone’s nether’s? That’s definitely more of a drunken style thing. Get drunk. Aim for the balls. Totally get it. Lesson learned master. That old man was lucky he was on a mission. No, A QUEST! to kick old master Qui Moon whatever the elf’s ass harder than ice giants club in a blizzard going the right direction to give a little extra oomph. He could never pronounce it, and everyone just called him master moon, so Master Moon it was. That old fart had this coming.
He had made Shivs fight his best friend that shared a birthday to the death. On their 18th birthday. That was how they rolled in way of the dickos! They take 2 initiates that are basically twins, just not by blood, but they have done actual twins before! That’s so elfd! You grow up with them. Train with them. Become their brother. Then on your 18th birthday. You wake up in the pod(pit of death.. yeah always a pit of death in way of the shadow), and you’re tied to a chair. Your brother is across from you. Master Moon comes out and explains that we must free ourselves from our binds and then kill the other, or we will both die bla bla way of the shathads bla. Yeah sure didn’t see this coming. I mean it’s way of the shadow for fairies sake.
Anyway, obviously Shivs had won that fight, but from that day forward he knew he was going to elf master moon up one day. Not kill. That was not his style. He was more than willing to make sure that master moon lost the use of various(perhaps most) parts of his body either permanently, semipermanently or both. He wasn’t really going to be to picky about it. Bottom line. He was going to kick the orc crap out of Master Moon. Drunken shadow style wolf*****.
"I’m sorry master, but I won’t be staying here in the temple, and neither will you.” I tell him plainly.
“What? Why’s that young man?”, he asks genuinely confused(he’s going down last. Mostly because I’m pretty sure he’s inept, but also because I want him to watch the show)
“Because I’m going to burn it down master.” I say again plainly.
“Why would you do this?”, he asks and seems too genuinely want to know, but in a way that says that he thinks I’m not capable of pulling it off. Oh yeah, he’s definitely last.
“Well, it comes down to this. It’s not the death the match and the torturous training under master(not anymore) moon. I’m honestly grateful for the skills that life has given me, and now I’m ready to move on to a new one. There is one thing I decided I can’t for give though.” And this when I can’t help but sound cold because I’m piiisssseed.
“….what’s that?..”, and I think now he’s starting realize that both he, and the rest of these clowns are in deep dragon shit.
“It’s the Booze Master… Well the booze and the pastries master”. I say and breath in deeply. Clearly having trouble holding it together at this point.
Excerpt From the present:
“Now we do understand, there was this unfortunate death match with your brother(well not by blood but whatever), and we are very sorry for that incident. It is not the normal practice of the way of(wait what?!?!) shadow temples to make our initiates(ohh I’m so kicking all these guys asses so elfing hard!) go through such a barbaric trial.”, he repeated in the same bland tone
“You don’t say?…”, I blurt out mechanically as my brain is still jumping up and down in my skull like goblin on fire(he’d seen it. They went nuts!).
None of these other ***** has halfling so called way of the shalow or more like… oh didn’t even care anymore. They were getting beaten. All of them. Not killed, but beaten, and then he was going to do something else. He was going to burn this orcmother to the ground. If they were beaten so bad that they couldn’t get up. Well, sorry. That’s what you get for being a little goblin baby of a warrior monk punk.
The present - The 2nd incident
The Way of the Shadow Master who went by I don’t really give an elf is orating at me the accounts of the night of the incident, and I’m loving it. I messed those guys up sooo bad. Master(not anymore lol) Moon will never walk again, and is definitely blind in one eye and likely deaf. The old fart had it coming.
“The Jade statue that was to be the trophy for the winner of the tournament(yeah that aint happening), was broken over Master(not anymore) Moons head, and body,.. and legs, and head again(He may have gotten a little carried away), and genitals….several times” master Sin “your next” Qohhi Dria is blandly orating to me as I grin mirthlessly.
Ok, he definitely had gotten a little carried away there, but he had just learned that move from the drunken masters. How could he not put it to use?! Come on!? Plus, like he had pointed out on numerous occasions. He had it coming.
“Now we do understand, there was this unfortunate death match with your brother(well not by blood but whatever), and we are very sorry for that incident. It is not the normal practice of way of(wait what?!?!) shadow temples to make our initiates(ohh I’m so kicking all these guys asses so elfing hard!) go through such a barbaric trial.”, he repeated in the same bland tone
“You don’t say?…”, I blurt out mechanically as my brain is still jumping up and down in my skull like goblin on fire(he’d seen it. They went nuts!).
None of these other ***** has halfling so called way of the shadow more like… oh didn’t even care anymore. They were getting beaten. All of them. Not killed, but beaten, and then he was going to do something else. He was going to burn this orcmother to the ground. If they were beaten so bad that they couldn’t get up. Well, sorry. That’s what you get for being a little goblin baby of a warrior.
“… What was that young man?” - he responds quizzically.
I just now he realized he stopped talking when I blurted out.. I don’t even remember, and is now looking at as if I actually had something worthwhile to say. I honestly don’t, and I don’t care what they have to say. They are all screwed. I asses the room as he seems to be confused by my silence, so I’m going to use that to my advantage. I don’t they even considered that I would just continue my rampage through the ranks of the Way of the Shadow. I mean, there were what 4 or 5 masters in this room. This may be a challenge, but after hearing about the nobody else went through a random wake on your birthday, tied to a chair, death match with your brother(not by blood but whatever). He was kind of thinking he may have been trained a be a lot more badass than the rest of all these goblin chumps. In fact, he knew it was a lot more. The way he had torn apart the students and masters alike while drunk(oh man that was awesome) for the first time… Anyway, this was boring him, so it was time get on with it.
“I’m sorry master, but I won’t be staying here in the temple, and neither will you.” I tell him plainly.
“What? Why’s that young man?”, he asks genuinely confused(he’s going down last. Mostly because I’m pretty sure he’s inept, but also because I want him to watch the show)
“Because I’m going to burn it down master.” I say again plainly.
“Why would you do this?”, he asks and seems too genuinely want to know, but in a way that says that he thinks I’m not capable of pulling it off. Oh yeah, he’s definitely last.
“Well, it comes down to this. It’s not the death the match and the torturous training under master(not anymore) moon. I’m honestly grateful for the skills that life has given me, and now I’m ready to move on to a new one. There is one thing I decided I can’t for give though.” And this when I can’t help but sound cold because I’m piiisssseed.
“….what’s that?..”, and I think now he’s starting realize that both he, and the rest of these clowns are in deep dragon shit.
“It’s the Booze Master… Well the booze and the pastries master”. I say and breath in deeply. Clearly having trouble holding it together at this point.
“The!!. Wh??! The booze?.. An a a a and the P pP P Pastries?….”, he stutters out again.
“Yes!” I actually scream, which is unlike me. I’m generally very calm. “You and your crappy way of the shallow!!(yes that’s it!!) and weird, brutal, probably crazy master(not anymore) moon didn’t tell me about Drow Whiskey distilled with spider venom!”, I shout again, but then get it under control.
“You didn’t tell me about Elvish Porter, and you didn’t tell me about fruit juice, and you didn’t tell me about PASTRIES!!! You kept locked in a hole, chained to chair, all sorts of other reallllyy messed up stuff that I’m sure I’ve blocked out, made me kill not just my brother, yeah he wasn’t blood but IT DOESN”T ELFING MATTER!!!”, but also a whole bunch of other “students” during my training, and it all doesn’t even matter, because it’s the pastries master.. Well the booze.. well it’s the booze and the pastries. Yeah mostly the pastries(Damn I love those things)I got the first bits out calm, but couldn’t help it when it come to the pastries. I just lost it from there, but then kind of pestered out when it came around to the pastries again(damn I love those things)
Those Orcmother Faires didn’t tell me about Pastries! I realized right at this moment that I was really going to enjoy getting a pastry to celebrate the destruction of this shabby excuse for a temple, or dojo, or whatever it was but didn’t matter because it was about to be all ashes. I would have to maybe stop by the Drunken Temple after this to make some apologies, eat some pastries, there were like the Way The Wusses that were still there, and they did need to have their little halfling asses kicked still, so then I would likely have to make some apologies. Either way, I would get some pastries out of the deal.
“So….”. I get it back under control. “As I’ve heard the gnomish party kids saying these days. I’m going to burn this orcmuther to the ground.”, I say plainly again.
“What!?? When? Whe!? When do you plan to do this?” He stutters now, clearly unsettled
“Right now master” I say yet again very plainly. Man I wanted some whiskey… and a pastry.
It’s at this point that the more aware masters in the room move in to flank me. I was counting on this. I’m ready. This may be harder than the tournament night, but he’s had a few nights to recover. He isn’t drunk, and that’s a definite downside. He could really use some of that whiskey right now.
“Just remember.” I say plainly.
“You had it coming”
Prologue excerpt:
“I don’t really care what you do kid.”, I looked at him, and then at the ragtag bunch of other kids and older students of the temple, and was that a master in training, who had opted to not stand in my way. Wise decision on their part. I had made quick work of the masters in the trial hall and left the orator a sniveling mess as I stalked through the rest of the temple spending no more energy than was necessary to disable my foes. Direct attacks to precise pressure points to paralyze, cause loss of bowl movement, do both, cause blindness, dizziness, drowsiness, euphoria(but only temporarily. Very temporarily… and then.. ewww. yeah that strike is nasty like a starving bloodfiend), and of course all of these things at once in some cases.
Later that Evening - Prologue
“What do we do now master?…”, One of the younger students who had opted not fight me as I brutalized everyone who stepped before me into unconsciousness.
“I don’t really care what you do kid.”, I looked at him, and then at the ragtag bunch of other kids and older students of the temple, and was that a master in training, who had opted to not stand in my way. Wise decision on their part. I had made quick work of the masters in the trial hall and left the orator a sniveling mess as I stalked through the rest of the temple spending no more energy than was necessary to disable my foes. Direct attacks to precise pressure points to paralyze, cause loss of bowl movement, do both, cause blindness, dizziness, drowsiness, euphoria(but only temporarily. Very temporarily… yeah that strike is nasty like a starving bloodfiend), and of course all of these things at once.
After a while nobody was coming at me anymore. Not everyone from the temple was laying prone before me by any means, but those who were left knew better than to mess with me. I promptly proceeded to set the whole place ablaze, and strolled up to my favorite hill overlooking the temple. I used to come up here to watch the sunrise or set over the temple after having just dispatched my latest fellow initiate. Now I was going to sit here and watch this piece of crap pastry hiding temple to the ground. Maybe the ones I knocked unconscious would wake up and get out in time. Maybe they wouldn’t. When it comes to killing. I don’t like to do it, but there is a gray area. If your too much of a little elf***** to get up and crawl your ass out of the burning temple, then…. sorry.
I let out a sigh,”Ok everyone, I’m going to go over the mountain here to the Way of the Drunken Master Temple to get some Pastries and and probably get hammered….by both booze and fists most likely… You call can come with me, and I guarantee your protection until we get there. I do warn you though. I will be kicking a few selective halfling way of the Wus(they all looked confused at this) asses while I’m there. Don’t get it my way.”, I say plainly.
With that I set out to get some godsdamn pastries and drow whiskey distilled with spider venom.
Shivs The Nether Strike and Beyond!
At this point Shivs ongoing personal quest(besides getting pastries) is to find any way of the shadow temples that he thinks is associated with the one that trained him, or old master(not anymore) moon, and burn it to the ground. He’s evolved his fighting style include edge based weapons, but only small ones like knives. He prefers to still use his martial arts skills on most opponents. The knife is mostly for stating humanoids in the nether regions. Once he learned the nether strike from the Drunk Master, evolved it into the nether stab. He had only really encountered halflings growing up. Being raised by some, psycho cult, halfling only weirdo, freek show. Once he got around other humanoids, and saw how his stature compared. He realized w things… These guys were gonna be fun to fight! He also realized that he would have to evolve his style. As he saw more armor and other types of creatures all together, he new he would need a blade. He knew how to use one well enough from his training the Way of the Wackos, but he just always preferred his fist and never carried a blade. That changed when he realized how he was at the perfect height to evolve the nether strike into the nether stab!
Shivs comes with extra home brew feat.
The Nether strike/Stab - Shivs goes for the nether regions of whatever he is fighting. As of now, he only generally knows where these are on most things. Humanoids are usually no problem though, and he’s actually in the perfect heigh placement to delivery a blow. Any regular blow in fact is usually always going to be a nether strike when it comes down to it. People accuse him of aiming the nether’s, but when it comes down to it that is just his striking zone. He’s not going to adjust and potentially get himself killed just to be more “sportsmanlike” as the now unconcious(well probably woke up by now right?.....) master orator or whatever his name was from the trial. The thing is. He really is aiming for the nethers. He just thinks people don’t have the right to accuse him of it. He can’t help because of his height thank you very much. You don’t see him trying to stab the balls of those ravenous swamp rats that we’re attacking the townsfolk do you(if you watched you would actually see him doing that, but who watches someone hung ravenous swamp rats?). The DM can choose to make this an actual feat or not with whatever stats they choose. I would suggest that it’s only effective if Shivs has learned exactly where the nether are on a given creature/humonoid.
My characters that I've been creating have had really simple backstories (some simple cause they work being simple but none the less) and ought to create a bit more depth then what i have compared yours and others on this thread.
Also awesome backstory ForrestAveryPDX and Shiv seems like the kind of halfling ye could get into a bar fight with (in the friendly brawl sense) and have a drink afterwards (possibly water or milk for shiv in case he on the job).
My characters that I've been creating have had really simple backstories (some simple cause they work being simple but none the less) and ought to create a bit more depth then what i have compared yours and others on this thread.
Also awesome backstory ForrestAveryPDX and Shiv seems like the kind of halfling ye could get into a bar fight with (in the friendly brawl sense) and have a drink afterwards (possibly water or milk for shiv in case he on the job).
Cheers, fine sir! I think you got the spirit of the Shivs exactly! He would totally throw down and have a beer with someone who gave a good contest and didn't take the ass whupping he delivered them personally. It's all in good sport. Unless someone aims for the nether region. He does reserve that for life or death contests at this point. ;)
It's all a matter of what you have fun doing. I like playing, but LOVE writing(as you an probably see) If you liked the Story Shivs, check out Ruckus Elfwyn (One eyed dwarf pirate that thinks' he's an alf), and of course the story Thelonious Gruvspinner(Bard/Rogue with many vices) - I think he's my favorite on account of his snarky enchanted lute that he thinks is a by product withdrawal halucinations. It's not. it's the Lute, and he doesn't like Thelonioius very much.
Writing back stories is my jam. Always happy to read what you got, and give me feedback, and give me something to work with and I'll give you some directions to take it,.
I just got inspired to do a wizard that is autistic/epileptic and has the potential be extremely powerful. The general idea for the story just popped into my head is that he and his little sister have just been orphaned, and he is having to leave wizard school to take care of her, but has not so well off a teacher that is trying to look out for him and still tutor him on the side, since he can't afford wizard school anymore. Because the teacher recognizes his potential be something great despite his condition; which the teacher sees as potentially not a hindrance at all, but something that could allow him to be one of the most powerful wizards of his time, he want to help him still continue his studies while doing whatever he can on the side to support himself and his siter. He's got his "condition", but it's more on the high functioning level, so he is capable of taking care of her, and the teacher knows that. He just needs a little help from a world determined to crush him and his sister under troll foot. Already got his name as well. Eyerik Mindstorm(named after a real person).
When Rynhardt Talain's sorcerous powers manifested it resulted in the deaths of his family. At least that's what he was told. The arduous training regimen he participated in to become a Scourger resulted in amnesia of anything prior to the human male's time in Rexxentrum & The Solstryce Academy. The only family they know is the Cerberus Assembly of Rexxentrum. They have a contact within The Assembly known as Wolf to which they report on findings of threats to The Empire.
Pre-Amnesia:
The Talain family operated The Myriad Syndicate out of Yrossa. When Rynhardt's draconic magic manifested he was helping his father and brother with business, when a deal went sideways. The stress of combat unleashed a tidal wave of draconic power contained within his blood. Rynhardt's powers destroyed the building they were in. Anyone nearby was incinerated by simply being in close proximity to him, including his own father. Eventually he collapsed in exhaustion. After the incident Alessia, his twin sister, took him to Rexxentrum in the hopes that the Solstryce Academy could help him get control of his abilities and keep him safe from retribution. The members of the Cerberus Assembly took interest in the raw power of the young man in the hopes of turning him into a devastating weapon for the empire.
When Rynhardt Talain's sorcerous powers manifested it resulted in the deaths of his family. At least that's what he was told. The arduous training regimen he participated in to become a Scourger resulted in amnesia of anything prior to the human male's time in Rexxentrum & The Solstryce Academy. The only family they know is the Cerberus Assembly of Rexxentrum. They have a contact within The Assembly known as Wolf to which they report on findings of threats to The Empire.
Pre-Amnesia:
The Talain family operated The Myriad Syndicate out of Yrossa. When Rynhardt's draconic magic manifested he was helping his father and brother with business, when a deal went sideways. The stress of combat unleashed a tidal wave of draconic power contained within his blood. Rynhardt's powers destroyed the building they were in. Anyone nearby was incinerated by simply being in close proximity to him, including his own father. Eventually he collapsed in exhaustion. After the incident Alessia, his twin sister, took him to Rexxentrum in the hopes that the Solstryce Academy could help him get control of his abilities and keep him safe from retribution. The members of the Cerberus Assembly took interest in the raw power of the young man in the hopes of turning him into a devastating weapon for the empire.
Love the start. What happens the sister though? Does she just hand him over or do they take him, etc? Got some cool elements to work with.
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Seems like a good backstory to me - leaves hooks for the DM to play with and makes no demands to monopolize the party's overall story. As for lore-proof, I don't believe in such things. D&D is all about the exceptions... in moderation, that is. I don't see anything particularly outrageous in the story that would demolish large swaths existing lore.
Let the DM have a pass on it. The DM can tailor the campaign for your character story or help tailor your character story for the campaign or find that it fits just fine as-is.
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.
Here's the (relatively short) backstory of a PC that I just started playing:
Konyan of the Dancing Blade
Konyan of the Dancing Blade was a high elf wizard born in the town of Hockshamhill, in the kingdom of Galoron, in 35 HE. His parents were cobblers, but he wielded magic unlike that of any other before him- bladesinging. When Galoron declared war on its neighbors in 101 HE, Konyan chose to side with his people, the elves, against his native kingdom, even though he hated battle. Over the course of the war, Konyan played a vital role in Galoron’s defeat and in the ultimate usurpation of King Valhein.
After the war, Konyan felt lost and unsure. While he was glad the fighting was over, he knew he couldn't return to his old life. And so Konyan took up adventuring, becoming an explorer and a guardian of the weak and faithless. Along with his blade, Linael, Konyan became well known all across the continent of Borrelia.
All stars fade. Some stars forever fall.
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Homebrew (Mostly Outdated): Magic Items, Monsters, Spells, Subclasses
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If there was no light, people wouldn't fear the dark.
My half-elf druid, Shandri Liadon. It is one of my first times playing and the first time I have really put a lot of effort into a backstory, so don't judge me too much. The campaign take place three or four years after all this tragic backstory stuff.
Shandri was born in an elven village to an elf father and human mother. Her Mother left when she was two after ‘splitting’ with her father. She and her mother made their home in a small agricultural town where her mother remarried. She spent her childhood (age 6 – 19) visiting her father twice a year. She formed quite a close relationship with her elven family. She grew quite attached to Roland, a young man about her age, who she later formed a romantic relationship with and married at the age of 19. The town was very small, and everyone knew and liked (mostly) everyone.
Shandri fell pregnant about 6 months into her marriage and began visiting her elven family more and more for help with the baby. She was on one of her last trips when a pack of Gnolls ravaged the town, leaving destroyed crops and chewed bones in their wake. There were no survivors. Shandri returned to find everyone she knew and loved dead and her whole life destroyed. The grief caused her to lose the baby. Her daughter was stillborn, and the weight of the combined tragedies was too much. She buried her daughter, her last reminder of Roland and her human family, and fled to a life of solitude in the forest.
She learned the secrets of the trees, found inner peace with nature, calmed the anger at the gods for doing this to her that was bubbling inside her and found a balance with the flora and fauna, but she still cannot shake the grief from her shoulders. She carries with her, always, a lock of her dead daughters’ hair, her wedding band and her mother’s locket that was gifted to her by her father. In the attic of her tiny cottage she keeps her wedding dress and veil. She is a sentimental romantic, who cannot seem to let go of the past or the sinking feeling that it was her fault. (read, survivors’ guilt.)
Many years later, she has established herself as a a biannual visitor to the nearby mining town, making cheerful conversation with everybody she meets, hiding her pain behind a smile and a conversation about her garden.
I'm new here(only my 2nd post), so I wanted to ask a question about this thread. My backstory is as follows. Was really into it as a kid but didn't know many who were interested, and never really got to play. :( The internet wasn't a thing and my parents were hippies. We lived in the woods. Anyway, I got turned onto this site, and going totally "ham" as my new DM put it writing up characters. I posted one in the weird thread(highly recommended. it's hilarious), but I have one that is serious. Very serious, and uhm.. Including the customized mechanics it introduces for the DM, is now about 10 pages long, and accordingly to the few I've shared it with so far, actually apparently well written.
My question is this. Is that appropriate to post within this thread, or should I start a thread of it's own to share the story? My thought is in here is more appropriate, but I wanted to be sure. Not trying to hijack the thread.
Go ahead and post here. If it is 10 pages long, I would put it between Spoiler tags so it only opens for those who want to see it.
[spoiler] your story [/spoiler} (replace the last } with a ] to make the coding work).
Thank you Cyclops! That was literally going to be my follow up. I was seeing the spoiler covers over peoples posts and was wondering how it was done. Thanks again. Probably going to refrain from posting that one here though. Already got some feedback on it was encouraged to not post it publicly, but instead flesh it out more and submit it as a modular content that could be included in or purchased as modular content for GMs. Don't know if it's that good, but at least one other person thought so.
This is my backstory for a new character- saw all the good advice and thought I would post it and see what all you thought.
Born into a prosperous elven town, on the edge of Neverwinter, in the year 1491AD, The Year of the Three Goddesses, Kynsalor’s parents were wealthy purveyors of fine wines and adept spellcasters, both of which were welcome in the town. However, this idyll was shattered when at the age of three, Kynsalor’s town was pillaged and razed to the ground by a warlike tribe of various species, including orcs and half orcs, aasimar, tieflings, bugbears, and even some humans.
His father was killed when he tried to fight back, and his mother taken as a slave to a particularly odious creature known as the Boar to his compatriots. Living as a slave himself for seven years in the wastelands of the Screaming Mountains (Near the northern Sword Coast). However, when he was nine years old, his mother was beaten to death by the Boar after she rebuffed his advances. Two years after that, a silver Dragonborn led an assault on the tribe after hearing of the atrocities committed by it.
During the battle, Kynsalor was almost killed as a hostage by the Boar, only to be saved by an unknown drow paladin, though the Boar escaped with his life after being beaten to within an inch of it by the paladin. After being brought to Waterdeep to have a new life, Kynsalor could not stand the discrimination shown toward drow in the city, at the age of 17 near killing an apprentice who had attacked his friend of the time, also a drow. This episode brought him to the attention of the Watch- and meant he had to be sent to a monastery at the insistence of the boy’s parents to learn ‘discipline’. They did not anticipate the monastery, which was outside of the jurisdiction of the Watch, teaching him the Way of Mercy as well. Only one of those lessons stuck, and when he witnessed a gang of men assaulting a tiefling in the street at the age of twenty ,he snapped and killed three, putting the rest tied together outside the Watch, with a message reading ‘Rough Justice’- the same phrase used by the apprentice’s parents. When questioned about the incident, the leader of the monastery said he had ‘learned his lesson perfectly’. He was taken in by one of Blackstaff’s apprentices to teach him how to control his burgeoning psychic strength, and by extension his emotion. Now with rage and mind in check- at least for now- Kynsalor travels looking for rights to wrong and punishment to mete out.
I can’t remember what’s supposed to go here.
Ruckus was orphaned as a dwarf and raised by a kind(not really and actually a racist bastard) old elvish ranger lady who lived a solitary life in the mountains. She was an outcast herself due to being really racist towards dwarves. Elves and dwarves, in general, have their beef, but she was so hardcore about it she was kicked out of the rangers and became a druid. Embraced by the nature-loving and just generally down to earth druids at first, eventually, the same thing happened, and she ended up alone in the mountains. That’s where she came across a poor orphaned Mountain Dwarf with just the name Ruckus written on a sign around his neck. He couldn’t even speak yet. She really hated dwarves, but for some reason, little Ruckus just tugged at her heart strings. Long story short, she raised him as her own. Teaching him the ways of the Elvish Rangers and Druids... but she hated dwarves, like with a passion(btw there has never been any revealed legit reason for this hate… at all) so she told Ruckus that he was an Elf like her. She raised him speaking Elvish and he speaks dwarfish like an Elf who did a half ass job of learning it as a second language. He was a little tall and nimble for a dwarf; which is pretty standard for Mountain dwarfs, but he didn’t know that, and with some strict training she managed to teach him some druid magic. Very specific spells that allowed him to make it seem like he could do more than he actually could than he in fact(Control flame), and protect and heal himself and others around him, because although unreasonably racist, Old lady Elfwyn was no fool. She knew she was raising someone who likely be having his ass beaten.. A lot. All this plus a healthy focus on Acrobatic training helped keep up the illusion that Ruckus Elfwyn was in fact an Elf. As Ruckus got older though, this fact became harder and harder to hide, so finally she had to tell him the truth….
He had a very rare life threatening condition that caused him(an Elf of course) to gradually and slowly turn start looking like a Dwarf as he grew older. This did cover the lie forever with little room for debate, because it’s not exactly easy for someone in this context to confirm the legitimacy of a medical diagnosis, but it had a consequence. Ruckus is fiercely loyal. Ride or die loyal with anyone he has become close with. The thought this condition was going to kill him(she said it was life threatening) made him not concerned for himself, but for her. What would she do when he was gone?
I'm pretty excited for this campaign to start lol.
Oh my lord, that is a very extensive backstory and i applaud your creativity. he sounds like hes going to be a lot of fun to role play, i hope it goes well.
Thanks! When I started telling a DM my idea he got picked up for a Pirate campaign they were planning right away. I'm sure it will be a blast. What could possibly go wrong in the story of Ruckus... ohhhh crap... yeah this guy is doomed...
Just got my latest creation into a promising-looking campaign!
Meet Thelonious Gruvspinner - Half Elf - Junky - Bard/Rogue with a sentient Lute named Jone's that mostly makes snarky discouraging comments to him. Thelonious has it coming. Trust me. I wrote up not just a backstory on this one, but an actual little(but very entertaining short story that goes along with it)
Here's the backstory as well as the short story I titled "The Sundering of Jones" to fit into the lore the DM has come up with. Trust me. It's good. :)
Thelonious is an addict. (He prefers the name Gruv by the way, but nobody ever calls him that, but he thinks of himself in that name.) He could be a great musician. It’s in his blood, or so he’s been told by his grandad that left him his enchanted Lute(probably stolen). The problem is that Thelonious is a hardcore addict to not just one but many vices. Booze, smoke, things you eat that do things to you besides nourishing you, and of course women. These vices tend to get in his way a lot when it comes to getting ahead in life. Once a promising student(for like a week) of the College of Lore, and determined to become "World Famous Bard", those endeavors were short-lived. He was admitted not due to being a great musician, although he did have talent, but because he showed some innate magical ability. That being so rare in Asterion, it got your foot in the door almost anywhere. That's basically as far as it got him before he promptly got the boot though. The instructors tend not to look too kindly on you showing up to class with a wench from the local brothel on one arm, and a mostly drank jug of mead being waved around belligerently by the other. They look even less kindly on it when you throw up all over the priceless enchanted Viol they had brought to class to demonstrate the proper way to play The Sonet of Eponine.... Twice. His argument that it couldn't be that enchanted if a little regurgitated mead did that much damage to it did not go over well, and so he became drop out(kicked out actually).
These kinds of shenanigans tend to hold Gruv back a lot. Especially when it comes to that whole “become a world-famous bard” endeavor he’s always prattling on about when he gets on one... or two…. Ok let’s be honest it’s normally at least 3 or 4. The hold up there is Thelonious… sorry Gruv has a temper.
Shivs the Halfling Theif - Monk/Rogue - Was raised by an abusive master in a cultish sect of the Way of the Shadow and is on quest of Vengeance and Pastries.
Shivs is a Lightfoot Halfling with anything but a light foot, and a serious sweet tooth. Growing up being trained in the way of the shadow most of your life will instill some pretty strict… well ethics isn’t the right word, let’s say routine!… Anyway, that was a long time ago. Now he’s a thief. A thief with a very strict set of rules he follows in any given situation. Not different rules for different situations. Same set of rules. Every situation. Every time. You wouldn’t call it a code exactly so much as an ill conceived canned plan of action that he applies to most situations. His general rules are as follows:
The Backstory of Shivs:
Excerpt" Then, there was the fateful day of the Tournament between their Way of the Shadow Temple, and a friendly rival temple following the Way of the Drunken Master. Long story short, Shivs got not just drunk for the first time but plastered. He didn’t so much as make a fool of himself as kick the ever-loving crap out of everyone to an extent that was deemed to be “not very sportsmanlike”. He even managed to take down one of the masters(old fart had it coming) from his temple, and one two from the drunken temple, before they were able to subdue him. They actually didn’t do this in fact, and we was never “subdued”. He just got tired of beating up everyone at that spot and knew he needed to get back to the temple, so figure that was the easiest way to get a ride. Master(not anymore) Moon already had that Jade Dragon(well a piece of it, I mean the status was pretty big. Now way the whole thing was going to fit)"
Read the backstory section here:
When entering an establishment he does not do the standard threat assessment most professional thieves employ, which is usually to start by identifying the exits. He doesn’t do it first. He does it last.
The primary reason for this lack of success is that although Shivs loves gold(and pastries), but there is one thing he loves even more. He loves to fight, and he really likes stabbing people in the nether regions. He will often opt to do this rather than escape with the valuables if someone looks at him for funny, or at any point indicates that they are about to rat him out! Actually ratting him out? Definitely stabbed in the nether for that one as a top priority before extraction of self from the premises.
Although working his way through life as a lowly pickpocket(pretty decent actually) and sneak thief(he’s learning), he does have aspirations of greatness. Well, aspirations of richness to be exact. That’s not richness as in gold(although that is required to achieve his ends), but richness in flavor. Shivs has a serious sweet tooth. On the verge of addiction level serious sweet tooth.
The thing to know about Shivs is that he grew up really poor. Hermit poor, and in fact you could say Monk poor. That’s because for most of his life Shivs was a Monk. Training in the Way of Shadow until early adulthood, he never quite felt like he fit in with other Monks. Everyone was training to be hardcore assassins(sociopath much), and spys(way to much work), but he just excelled at and genuinely enjoyed kicking the crap out of people. He didn’t really want to kill them. Especially the ones he didn’t like. He preferred if they survived and suffered the beat down he had given them. He wanted them to know that he had bested them. You don’t know that someone has bested you, if you have been killed in that besting because…. Well you’re dead. That didn’t sound nearly as satisfying to Shiv. Unfortunately, his training would require him to kill a lot of people. Including his brother(not by blood but whatever).
Then, there was the fateful day of the Tournament between their Way of the Shadow Temple, and a friendly rival temple following the Way of the Drunken Master. Long story short, Shivs got not drunk for the first time, but plastered. He didn’t so much as make a fool of himself as kick the ever-loving crap out of everyone to an extent that was deemed to be “not very sportsmanlike”. He even managed to take down one of the masters(old fart had it coming) from his temple, and one two from the drunken temple, before they were able to subdue him. They actually didn’t do this in fact, and we was never “subdued”. He just got tired of beating up everyone at that spot and knew he needed to get back to the temple, so figure that was the easiest way to get a ride. Master(not anymore) Moon already had that Jade Dragon(well a piece of it, I mean the status was pretty big. Now way the whole thing was going to fit) shoved so far up his ass he would never walk again….Yeah he had gone there, but actually didn’t want to think about it. Now he knows how far is too far. He’s going to leave it at that.
Although humiliating to him(so they thought, he feels they should be the ones who are embarrassed), this was a wake up call for Shivs. The masters of course were more than willing to forgive the transgression. First of all. Shivs was apparently one bad bad man. In a good way. In a you’re a badass motherf#*er way. He already had kind of knew this, but had never really got the chance to express his full rage against so many other opponents. Nobody stood a chance. He had taken down most of the students from both temples. Admittedly not all of them, but only because after seeing what he had done to a good number of them, the rest decided to promptly exit the scene with as much of the booze and snacks as possible. He had also more importantly(at least to Shivs) taken down the masters. All of them. From both sides. At least the ones at the tournament. Halfling martial arts masters my foot. They wanted him to be an assassin. He clearly didn’t have the focus and let’s be honest patience(no he did not) to be a spy, but he had “immeasurable potential”. Yeah, potential kick your ass again old man. Also, in the end Shivs was young, had gotten carried away, so a few people got injured. Nobody was hurt seriously… well hurt THAT seriously, and at least nobody had died… Well, Master Moon was unfortunately not doing so well, and they were really having a hard time retrieving that Jade Dragon Statue, well pieces of it, but everyone generally agreed that the old fart had it coming. He would recover though… probably. Anyway, that didn’t really matter to Shivs anymore. He was pissed.
The night of the incident Excerpt:
You see, the problem is this… You don’t get to have any fun at the Way of The Shadow temple. No food except rice and fish all day long. They only drink water and tea, and the tea is made out of rice! What the Fairies man! When he met the Way of the Drunken Master monks, his mind had been blown. These guys knew how to elfing party! They singing and laughing and fighting for fun while having a fest! A fricken Feast! Fruits; which had tried of course when out in the wilds and such, but also fruit juice(geniuses), nuts, berries, this stuff called cheese, and these things they called pastries that was pretty sure were the most delicious things on the planet.
Read the night of the incident here:
Shiv’s is pissed. Really, really pissed. He could go on, but you get the idea. You see, the problem is this… You don’t get to have any fun at the Way of The Shadow temple. No food except rice and fish all day long. They only drink water and tea, and the tea is made out of rice! What the Fairies man! When he met the Way of the Drunken Master monks, his mind had been blown. These guys knew how to elfing party! They singing and laughing and fighting for fun while having a fest! A fricken Feast! Fruits; which had tried of course when out in the wilds and such, but also fruit juice(geniuses), nuts, berries, this stuff called cheese, and these things they called pastries that was pretty sure were the most delicious things on the planet. He would stab anyone in the balls that argued otherwise. No really. He would, but we’ll get to that. None of that really “blew his mind”. He knew that there was other things to eat out there obviously, and had sampled various fares when he had the chance. That was really no big deal. The big deal was the big, no giant keg of what they called Elvish Porter, and the smaller(but not by much) keg of Drow Whiskey aged with spider venom they had brought. What was this al-co-hol thing? Did it taste good. That question was met with shrugs and a few laughs, so he figured what the heck. What’s the worst that could happen right?
It didn’t take long for Shivs to get properly twisted on that Draw Whiskey, and the Spider Venom gave it just enough edge to keep him sharp… This was gods damn awesome! It felt great! Why was he being deprived of these luxuries at his temple. What the actual ****! After a few of the flagons of the Porter.. well a few is 6 right?.. And only a few handfuls of small goblets of the Drow Whiskey, he decided enough was enough. He was going to go back over to the Way of the Shackles My Shoul Temple(which was what he was affectionately now calling it)camp to give his masters a piece of his mind. Some of the Drunken masters tried to stop him, and he proceeded to break no less than 3 arms, 4 or maybe it was 5 legs, definitely some faces, yeah lots of faces, impossible to count numbers of fingers, and a few knee caps for good measure. By this time some of the Shadow Temple warriors were coming over to see what the heck was going on. Let’s be honest they were already on their way before this because that party was already getting way out of hand. That one was hard to keep track of. He was already bored of breaking extremities, so he decided to work on his speed jabs and quick kicks to the body. I mean, if you count every crunch he heard as a bone broken then, oh let’s say 137? Maybe no. It was 139. Some of those may not have been full breaks though, so he didn’t give himself credit where it wasn’t do. He Just rounded it down to a solid 130 and moved on. Hey at least he avoided there faces! Most of them(yeah sorry Wang Tu, you were just kind of a dick), were still pretty enough and had both eyes(sorry again Wang Tu).
Then came the drunken masters. The drunken students were all promptly packing up their stuff(mostly the booze and food. Tents you could replace, but that drow whiskey was a miracle for Seronos) and getting the f out of Drevas as fast as possible. In fact it looked like some of the Shadow students were going with them. Come to think of it, he had seen them at the party! They knew what he knew! They were just too scared to do anything about it, and now they were fleeing the scene!For some reason that made him really mad! He was gonna find those guys one day, and he was going to kick their asses. Not kill them. That was not his style, but asses would be kicked. Hard. That thought of future beatings that he would be delivering to these fellow students, of what he would now call the way of the wuss, gave him calm. He turned to the drunken master.
There were now two drunken masters, and one had a cane(really..)…wait no.. he had to squint to be sure.. yeah definitely two of them now. but they were drunk. Very drunk, and yes he was drunk to, but he also trained way of the shadow and ate only rice for faro’s sake. These guys trained in getting drunk and eating pastries and getting drunk more. They had shared those pastries, and those tasty(and not so tasty but effective) beverages with him though. He liked these guys. He didn’t want to hurt them and he was hoping to join them at some point. They really knew how to party!
He just subdued them, and let’s be honest it was not difficult. He may have broke one of their canes, but the old man had hit him in the balls with it and, that crap had hurt! He had no idea. He had never really been hit square in the elventree nuts like that before. Grazed? Sure. He knew some discomfort, but that usually happened in the middle of a no holds barred fight to either the death(you did that in way of the shadow) or at least unconsciousness. Adrenaline and Ki got you right through that quicker than gnome will grift you for your mead. He had just battled his way through countless warriors that were there for a pretty intense temple on temple tournament with a nice Jade Dragon statue as a prize. The statue got utterly destroyed the night of the incident though, but that’s besides the point, and it happened later anyway during the battle(well not so much battle as utter slaying) with master moon.
You see in the way of the shadow you train for kill shots. A shot to the jewels doesn’t usually do that, so we generally don’t train to aim for it. Even with our hand to hand combat, were aiming for pressure points, spots that will knock the wind out of you, blind you, choke you, or just outright remove consciousness from you. Aiming directly for someone’s nether’s? That’s definitely more of a drunken style thing. Get drunk. Aim for the balls. Totally get it. Lesson learned master. That old man was lucky he was on a mission. No, A QUEST! to kick old master Qui Moon whatever the elf’s ass harder than ice giants club in a blizzard going the right direction to give a little extra oomph. He could never pronounce it, and everyone just called him master moon, so Master Moon it was. That old fart had this coming.
He had made Shivs fight his best friend that shared a birthday to the death. On their 18th birthday. That was how they rolled in way of the dickos! They take 2 initiates that are basically twins, just not by blood, but they have done actual twins before! That’s so elfd! You grow up with them. Train with them. Become their brother. Then on your 18th birthday. You wake up in the pod(pit of death.. yeah always a pit of death in way of the shadow), and you’re tied to a chair. Your brother is across from you. Master Moon comes out and explains that we must free ourselves from our binds and then kill the other, or we will both die bla bla way of the shathads bla. Yeah sure didn’t see this coming. I mean it’s way of the shadow for fairies sake.
Anyway, obviously Shivs had won that fight, but from that day forward he knew he was going to elf master moon up one day. Not kill. That was not his style. He was more than willing to make sure that master moon lost the use of various(perhaps most) parts of his body either permanently, semipermanently or both. He wasn’t really going to be to picky about it. Bottom line. He was going to kick the orc crap out of Master Moon. Drunken shadow style wolf*****.
"I’m sorry master, but I won’t be staying here in the temple, and neither will you.” I tell him plainly.
“What? Why’s that young man?”, he asks genuinely confused(he’s going down last. Mostly because I’m pretty sure he’s inept, but also because I want him to watch the show)
“Because I’m going to burn it down master.” I say again plainly.
“Why would you do this?”, he asks and seems too genuinely want to know, but in a way that says that he thinks I’m not capable of pulling it off. Oh yeah, he’s definitely last.
“Well, it comes down to this. It’s not the death the match and the torturous training under master(not anymore) moon. I’m honestly grateful for the skills that life has given me, and now I’m ready to move on to a new one. There is one thing I decided I can’t for give though.” And this when I can’t help but sound cold because I’m piiisssseed.
“….what’s that?..”, and I think now he’s starting realize that both he, and the rest of these clowns are in deep dragon shit.
“It’s the Booze Master… Well the booze and the pastries master”. I say and breath in deeply. Clearly having trouble holding it together at this point.
Excerpt From the present:
“Now we do understand, there was this unfortunate death match with your brother(well not by blood but whatever), and we are very sorry for that incident. It is not the normal practice of the way of(wait what?!?!) shadow temples to make our initiates(ohh I’m so kicking all these guys asses so elfing hard!) go through such a barbaric trial.”, he repeated in the same bland tone
“You don’t say?…”, I blurt out mechanically as my brain is still jumping up and down in my skull like goblin on fire(he’d seen it. They went nuts!).
None of these other ***** has halfling so called way of the shalow or more like… oh didn’t even care anymore. They were getting beaten. All of them. Not killed, but beaten, and then he was going to do something else. He was going to burn this orcmother to the ground. If they were beaten so bad that they couldn’t get up. Well, sorry. That’s what you get for being a little goblin baby of a warrior monk punk.
The present - The 2nd incident
The Way of the Shadow Master who went by I don’t really give an elf is orating at me the accounts of the night of the incident, and I’m loving it. I messed those guys up sooo bad. Master(not anymore lol) Moon will never walk again, and is definitely blind in one eye and likely deaf. The old fart had it coming.
“The Jade statue that was to be the trophy for the winner of the tournament(yeah that aint happening), was broken over Master(not anymore) Moons head, and body,.. and legs, and head again(He may have gotten a little carried away), and genitals….several times” master Sin “your next” Qohhi Dria is blandly orating to me as I grin mirthlessly.
Ok, he definitely had gotten a little carried away there, but he had just learned that move from the drunken masters. How could he not put it to use?! Come on!? Plus, like he had pointed out on numerous occasions. He had it coming.
“Now we do understand, there was this unfortunate death match with your brother(well not by blood but whatever), and we are very sorry for that incident. It is not the normal practice of way of(wait what?!?!) shadow temples to make our initiates(ohh I’m so kicking all these guys asses so elfing hard!) go through such a barbaric trial.”, he repeated in the same bland tone
“You don’t say?…”, I blurt out mechanically as my brain is still jumping up and down in my skull like goblin on fire(he’d seen it. They went nuts!).
None of these other ***** has halfling so called way of the shadow more like… oh didn’t even care anymore. They were getting beaten. All of them. Not killed, but beaten, and then he was going to do something else. He was going to burn this orcmother to the ground. If they were beaten so bad that they couldn’t get up. Well, sorry. That’s what you get for being a little goblin baby of a warrior.
“… What was that young man?” - he responds quizzically.
I just now he realized he stopped talking when I blurted out.. I don’t even remember, and is now looking at as if I actually had something worthwhile to say. I honestly don’t, and I don’t care what they have to say. They are all screwed. I asses the room as he seems to be confused by my silence, so I’m going to use that to my advantage. I don’t they even considered that I would just continue my rampage through the ranks of the Way of the Shadow. I mean, there were what 4 or 5 masters in this room. This may be a challenge, but after hearing about the nobody else went through a random wake on your birthday, tied to a chair, death match with your brother(not by blood but whatever). He was kind of thinking he may have been trained a be a lot more badass than the rest of all these goblin chumps. In fact, he knew it was a lot more. The way he had torn apart the students and masters alike while drunk(oh man that was awesome) for the first time… Anyway, this was boring him, so it was time get on with it.
“I’m sorry master, but I won’t be staying here in the temple, and neither will you.” I tell him plainly.
“What? Why’s that young man?”, he asks genuinely confused(he’s going down last. Mostly because I’m pretty sure he’s inept, but also because I want him to watch the show)
“Because I’m going to burn it down master.” I say again plainly.
“Why would you do this?”, he asks and seems too genuinely want to know, but in a way that says that he thinks I’m not capable of pulling it off. Oh yeah, he’s definitely last.
“Well, it comes down to this. It’s not the death the match and the torturous training under master(not anymore) moon. I’m honestly grateful for the skills that life has given me, and now I’m ready to move on to a new one. There is one thing I decided I can’t for give though.” And this when I can’t help but sound cold because I’m piiisssseed.
“….what’s that?..”, and I think now he’s starting realize that both he, and the rest of these clowns are in deep dragon shit.
“It’s the Booze Master… Well the booze and the pastries master”. I say and breath in deeply. Clearly having trouble holding it together at this point.
“The!!. Wh??! The booze?.. An a a a and the P pP P Pastries?….”, he stutters out again.
“Yes!” I actually scream, which is unlike me. I’m generally very calm. “You and your crappy way of the shallow!!(yes that’s it!!) and weird, brutal, probably crazy master(not anymore) moon didn’t tell me about Drow Whiskey distilled with spider venom!”, I shout again, but then get it under control.
“You didn’t tell me about Elvish Porter, and you didn’t tell me about fruit juice, and you didn’t tell me about PASTRIES!!! You kept locked in a hole, chained to chair, all sorts of other reallllyy messed up stuff that I’m sure I’ve blocked out, made me kill not just my brother, yeah he wasn’t blood but IT DOESN”T ELFING MATTER!!!”, but also a whole bunch of other “students” during my training, and it all doesn’t even matter, because it’s the pastries master.. Well the booze.. well it’s the booze and the pastries. Yeah mostly the pastries(Damn I love those things)I got the first bits out calm, but couldn’t help it when it come to the pastries. I just lost it from there, but then kind of pestered out when it came around to the pastries again(damn I love those things)
Those Orcmother Faires didn’t tell me about Pastries! I realized right at this moment that I was really going to enjoy getting a pastry to celebrate the destruction of this shabby excuse for a temple, or dojo, or whatever it was but didn’t matter because it was about to be all ashes. I would have to maybe stop by the Drunken Temple after this to make some apologies, eat some pastries, there were like the Way The Wusses that were still there, and they did need to have their little halfling asses kicked still, so then I would likely have to make some apologies. Either way, I would get some pastries out of the deal.
“So….”. I get it back under control. “As I’ve heard the gnomish party kids saying these days. I’m going to burn this orcmuther to the ground.”, I say plainly again.
“What!?? When? Whe!? When do you plan to do this?” He stutters now, clearly unsettled
“Right now master” I say yet again very plainly. Man I wanted some whiskey… and a pastry.
It’s at this point that the more aware masters in the room move in to flank me. I was counting on this. I’m ready. This may be harder than the tournament night, but he’s had a few nights to recover. He isn’t drunk, and that’s a definite downside. He could really use some of that whiskey right now.
“Just remember.” I say plainly.
“You had it coming”
Prologue excerpt:
“I don’t really care what you do kid.”, I looked at him, and then at the ragtag bunch of other kids and older students of the temple, and was that a master in training, who had opted to not stand in my way. Wise decision on their part. I had made quick work of the masters in the trial hall and left the orator a sniveling mess as I stalked through the rest of the temple spending no more energy than was necessary to disable my foes. Direct attacks to precise pressure points to paralyze, cause loss of bowl movement, do both, cause blindness, dizziness, drowsiness, euphoria(but only temporarily. Very temporarily… and then.. ewww. yeah that strike is nasty like a starving bloodfiend), and of course all of these things at once in some cases.
Later that Evening - Prologue
“What do we do now master?…”, One of the younger students who had opted not fight me as I brutalized everyone who stepped before me into unconsciousness.
“I don’t really care what you do kid.”, I looked at him, and then at the ragtag bunch of other kids and older students of the temple, and was that a master in training, who had opted to not stand in my way. Wise decision on their part. I had made quick work of the masters in the trial hall and left the orator a sniveling mess as I stalked through the rest of the temple spending no more energy than was necessary to disable my foes. Direct attacks to precise pressure points to paralyze, cause loss of bowl movement, do both, cause blindness, dizziness, drowsiness, euphoria(but only temporarily. Very temporarily… yeah that strike is nasty like a starving bloodfiend), and of course all of these things at once.
After a while nobody was coming at me anymore. Not everyone from the temple was laying prone before me by any means, but those who were left knew better than to mess with me. I promptly proceeded to set the whole place ablaze, and strolled up to my favorite hill overlooking the temple. I used to come up here to watch the sunrise or set over the temple after having just dispatched my latest fellow initiate. Now I was going to sit here and watch this piece of crap pastry hiding temple to the ground. Maybe the ones I knocked unconscious would wake up and get out in time. Maybe they wouldn’t. When it comes to killing. I don’t like to do it, but there is a gray area. If your too much of a little elf***** to get up and crawl your ass out of the burning temple, then…. sorry.
I let out a sigh,”Ok everyone, I’m going to go over the mountain here to the Way of the Drunken Master Temple to get some Pastries and and probably get hammered….by both booze and fists most likely… You call can come with me, and I guarantee your protection until we get there. I do warn you though. I will be kicking a few selective halfling way of the Wus(they all looked confused at this) asses while I’m there. Don’t get it my way.”, I say plainly.
With that I set out to get some godsdamn pastries and drow whiskey distilled with spider venom.
Shivs The Nether Strike and Beyond!
At this point Shivs ongoing personal quest(besides getting pastries) is to find any way of the shadow temples that he thinks is associated with the one that trained him, or old master(not anymore) moon, and burn it to the ground. He’s evolved his fighting style include edge based weapons, but only small ones like knives. He prefers to still use his martial arts skills on most opponents. The knife is mostly for stating humanoids in the nether regions. Once he learned the nether strike from the Drunk Master, evolved it into the nether stab. He had only really encountered halflings growing up. Being raised by some, psycho cult, halfling only weirdo, freek show. Once he got around other humanoids, and saw how his stature compared. He realized w things… These guys were gonna be fun to fight! He also realized that he would have to evolve his style. As he saw more armor and other types of creatures all together, he new he would need a blade. He knew how to use one well enough from his training the Way of the Wackos, but he just always preferred his fist and never carried a blade. That changed when he realized how he was at the perfect height to evolve the nether strike into the nether stab!
Shivs comes with extra home brew feat.
The Nether strike/Stab - Shivs goes for the nether regions of whatever he is fighting. As of now, he only generally knows where these are on most things. Humanoids are usually no problem though, and he’s actually in the perfect heigh placement to delivery a blow. Any regular blow in fact is usually always going to be a nether strike when it comes down to it. People accuse him of aiming the nether’s, but when it comes down to it that is just his striking zone. He’s not going to adjust and potentially get himself killed just to be more “sportsmanlike” as the now unconcious(well probably woke up by now right?.....) master orator or whatever his name was from the trial. The thing is. He really is aiming for the nethers. He just thinks people don’t have the right to accuse him of it. He can’t help because of his height thank you very much. You don’t see him trying to stab the balls of those ravenous swamp rats that we’re attacking the townsfolk do you(if you watched you would actually see him doing that, but who watches someone hung ravenous swamp rats?). The DM can choose to make this an actual feat or not with whatever stats they choose. I would suggest that it’s only effective if Shivs has learned exactly where the nether are on a given creature/humonoid.
My characters that I've been creating have had really simple backstories (some simple cause they work being simple but none the less) and ought to create a bit more depth then what i have compared yours and others on this thread.
Also awesome backstory ForrestAveryPDX and Shiv seems like the kind of halfling ye could get into a bar fight with (in the friendly brawl sense) and have a drink afterwards (possibly water or milk for shiv in case he on the job).
Cheers, fine sir! I think you got the spirit of the Shivs exactly! He would totally throw down and have a beer with someone who gave a good contest and didn't take the ass whupping he delivered them personally. It's all in good sport. Unless someone aims for the nether region. He does reserve that for life or death contests at this point. ;)
It's all a matter of what you have fun doing. I like playing, but LOVE writing(as you an probably see) If you liked the Story Shivs, check out Ruckus Elfwyn (One eyed dwarf pirate that thinks' he's an alf), and of course the story Thelonious Gruvspinner(Bard/Rogue with many vices) - I think he's my favorite on account of his snarky enchanted lute that he thinks is a by product withdrawal halucinations. It's not. it's the Lute, and he doesn't like Thelonioius very much.
Writing back stories is my jam. Always happy to read what you got, and give me feedback, and give me something to work with and I'll give you some directions to take it,.
I just got inspired to do a wizard that is autistic/epileptic and has the potential be extremely powerful. The general idea for the story just popped into my head is that he and his little sister have just been orphaned, and he is having to leave wizard school to take care of her, but has not so well off a teacher that is trying to look out for him and still tutor him on the side, since he can't afford wizard school anymore. Because the teacher recognizes his potential be something great despite his condition; which the teacher sees as potentially not a hindrance at all, but something that could allow him to be one of the most powerful wizards of his time, he want to help him still continue his studies while doing whatever he can on the side to support himself and his siter. He's got his "condition", but it's more on the high functioning level, so he is capable of taking care of her, and the teacher knows that. He just needs a little help from a world determined to crush him and his sister under troll foot. Already got his name as well. Eyerik Mindstorm(named after a real person).
Cool name.
a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather.
Thanks! He's a great kid IRL, and the character he inspired will be a worthy tribute to him.
I am new to all of this stuff so just trying to build a character and find a group/game to join and work out a backstory in the process....lol
Try joining the coliseum.
The fire giants made a gundam wheeeeee
When Rynhardt Talain's sorcerous powers manifested it resulted in the deaths of his family. At least that's what he was told. The arduous training regimen he participated in to become a Scourger resulted in amnesia of anything prior to the human male's time in Rexxentrum & The Solstryce Academy. The only family they know is the Cerberus Assembly of Rexxentrum. They have a contact within The Assembly known as Wolf to which they report on findings of threats to The Empire.
Pre-Amnesia:
The Talain family operated The Myriad Syndicate out of Yrossa. When Rynhardt's draconic magic manifested he was helping his father and brother with business, when a deal went sideways. The stress of combat unleashed a tidal wave of draconic power contained within his blood. Rynhardt's powers destroyed the building they were in. Anyone nearby was incinerated by simply being in close proximity to him, including his own father. Eventually he collapsed in exhaustion. After the incident Alessia, his twin sister, took him to Rexxentrum in the hopes that the Solstryce Academy could help him get control of his abilities and keep him safe from retribution. The members of the Cerberus Assembly took interest in the raw power of the young man in the hopes of turning him into a devastating weapon for the empire.![]()
Love the start. What happens the sister though? Does she just hand him over or do they take him, etc? Got some cool elements to work with.