I enjoy it. It’s a bit too simplistic for my exact taste, but that’s opinion. The first person perspective is something I don’t see often, and I liked how you did it. I also like how you included character appearance, which now that I think about, is probably important. As appearance also says a lot about the character itself.
Is this “Vosnin Emberlight” Neutral Evil? He sure seems like it.
I really appreciate the kind words. This is my first attempt as character building. And Vosnin is lawful evil.
Well, my current top muse driving a campaign. I tried to leave the DM some hooks to work with, but really I ended up with hooks I could buff my experiments in writing:
Myrai was born approximately 22 years ago in The City of Doors, Sigil. Shortly after her birth she was given up as an orphan to the The Gatehouse, the headquarters of the Bleak Cabal. Given up without a name, a legacy (a sort of inheritance) or coin, she was essentially interred in the asylum, until her debt was paid, and she came of age. While sad, for the Hive most orphanages were simply conscripted child labor for unscrupulous merchants. The Gatehouse was an improvement.
Growing up, she adopted the name Myrai from “Mirror-eyed” a tease that the other orphans would use. Orphans are common enough in the Hive, all are poor. But very few are Asimaar. And unlike most Asimaars, Myrai was a first generation. "foundling" That’s all she could get from the Bleakers about her being dropped off. Not a clue about her mother and that her father was obviously a celestial of some type.
Three key events basically forged her into what she was to become. The first when Myrai was thirteen, was the death of her friend Elisna. Death was common enough for the Hive, and not a stranger to the Gatehouse. But Elisna had managed to sign a Dustman contract. Now the Dustman don’t normally do contracts for the underage giving coin for their future dead shell. But Elisna managed it, and then found herself a corpse due to an accident in the Hive, and Contract #453 was promptly retrieved and turned into a zombie (the Dusties, found their Deader and turned them into a Musty). The Zombie was used to deliver messages between the Mortuary and the Gatehouse. It seemed intrinsically wrong to Myrai, to see this…desecration to her friend. While Myrai had been apathetic to the Bleaker’s philosophy, it started her passion against the undead, and the Dustman practices using them. It also started her down a path of rejecting the Bleak Cabal’s nihilism. There was purpose to life and universe even though it might be challenging to understand the why’s.
The second, was discovering the Society of Sensation. While every child knows (or knew) all fifteen factions, it doesn’t mean they experience or meet members or see their works. Myrai had an opportunity to deliver a message to the Civil Festhall. This was the first time she had left the Hive, and entered the Clerk’s Ward. She delivered her message to a member there, and instead of running back, she stayed. Many who encounter the Senates see the experiences, and embrace only a limited experience, especially hedonism. She saw the truth; sensation is about knowledge, and knowledge is a key to power. Power to influence, make friends, hamper and hurt enemies. Knowledge was purpose. The Society is easy to join, and she actively looked for ways to earn coin, rather than rely on chores to be doled out at the Gatehouse. She spent as much time and money as she could to learn. To read/write, and along the way discovered the relatively new god Kelemvor, and learned about how the god was changing how death was to viewed, and how the undead and their creators to be abhorred. But she found more comfort in the how death framed the rightful struggle of life, and she became a true believer in the faith.
The third event occurred, when she was sixteen; Sigil erupted into a civil war called the Faction war. For the next five years, the war rampaged, and Myrai spent her time with the Sensates helping with the common folk as much as she could. She also earned enough gold to pay off her orphanage dues to the Bleak Cabal. Nearing the end of the war, the Anarchists managed to infiltrate the Gatehouse, and free many inmates there, notably the criminally insane. As the inmates ran rampant one took a fancy to Myrai remembering her as a “tormentor” (she only brought food to him as a chore, but he always thought the food was poisoned). Myrai, didn’t know his name, but he chased her through the Hive into Rag Pickers Square, with an intent to kill. Exhausted, Myrai was desperate, and while seeking a place to hide she stumbled across an idol. It was hard to miss, and seemed out of place. Rag Picker’s square is a trash pit, but lying on the ground was a silvery idol that was out of place and seemed to glow. Despite the danger of being chased by an adle-coved inmate she was fascinated and drawn to the strange idol. She reached out to grab it and upon touching the idol she felt a surge of power. It seemed to want something from her, but whatever message was weak, and unclear. But Myrai “felt” a source of power, and reached out and forcefully tapped the heart of that power. A link was created to the source…with what is not clear. Turning around Myrai cast her first Eldritch Blast, wounding and scaring off her pursuer. But somehow the idol was gone. The war ended shortly afterwards. The Lady of Pain gave her dictum via her Dabus: ““This city tolerates your faction no longer. Abandon it or die.” The factions started to break apart across all of Sigil. Half the Sensates left for Aboria, the other half remained to help Sigil rebuild.
During the aftermath, Myrai also took up odd jobs for money. One of these odd jobs had her run a message to the Burning Corpse Bar, in the Hive. While there, an argument arose about who really won the Blood War between a Bone Devil and a Glabrezu. During the ensuing fight, Myrai dove behind the bar to escape the fiends. As she was about to land, a portal opens up and she disappears within, without a portal key, or a way home. She found herself in a haystack in a place called Triboar?
This led to...well, a lot of writing exercises and the self reflection on needing to better with grammar checking at least. Much of that is found here. Spending some time reworking it here and there.
That led to a different character and perspective in a different campaign...with a little a little cross over here and there as a story from a different perspective.
Gimlett Gimlettson is an old dwarf. He had an adventuring life, once, but fell in love and settled down. Fourteen sons later he's beginning to realise that a curse he suffered decades ago is coming back to haunt him. None of his sons can father their own children; those that do find the infants still-born, born weak and sickly, or dying young in suspicious circumstances.
The old dwarf is sharpening his axe once more, determined to rid himself of his curse and save his sons from his doom.
This was my character from a campaign which ran for the last couple of years and finished up recently. I joined in a few weeks into the already-running PotA campaign in a local games shop and was thrilled to see D&D being played again. Yes, it's been a few years since 1st and 2nd editions, but WoTC has kept things alive.
A chance one-time drop in session evolved into some great new friendships and some epic tales. After the first session, where Lynneth was entrusted to me by another player from their pre-rolled stash ("uh, we could use a cleric!"), my brain just had to fill in the backstory. The DM grinned at me when I handed him the two pages below.
Thanks Lynneth and the River Hydra Trading Company! The journey was awesome!
Lynneth Galbraes, Cleric - Tempest Domain
Her earliest memory was of the storm. Most children cower and hide in inclement weather, but Lynneth was always different; not elven, despite her fine features; not human either. Half-elven children are rarely content.
The elven children of the royal brood accepted her, at least as far as the elders could see, but Lynneth was different. Quick to anger, quick to laugh; almost a perfect blend of her diverse heritage. Almost. Now there’s the word.
Her parents were as much an anomaly as Lynneth. Her father, Aelthas Galbraes, youngest son of a minor house was known for wandering the lands. In one of those epic journeys he came across a woman, desperately fighting Giants in the midst of a maelstrom. In a moment, Aelthas committed himself to battle.
The human woman was critically wounded in the final moments of battle and collapsed as the Giants were driven back. She was strangely garbed, and spoke in a strange language. Aelthas carried her back to the elven clerics and she took some time to recover.
In the following months, Aelthas and Birgette became closer, and inevitably grew to love one another, despite their limited ability to speak a common language. In time, they were joined by Lynneth. For a time, they were happy and content as a family.
When Lynneth was six years old, a stranger appeared at their home. Birgette became agitated; not frightened, but clearly concerned. In her limited elvish, Birgette explained to Aelthas that the stranger had been seeking her. Birgette and the stranger exchanged heated words, and with a thunderous clap, the one-eyed stranger vanished, and with him, Lynneth’s mother. In her place; a stone with a carved rune remained.
Her father left Lynneth with Hacathra: her tutor, friend, and surrogate parent while Aelthas sought answers. The priests and mages found nothing. Over time, the wounds healed…but not quite.
Aelthas came and left, single-minded in his efforts to find his wife, and the years passed. Elf, Human, and Half-elves experience time’s endless passage differently. Lynneth grew, learning from Hacathra the history of the elves, the duty of nobility, and the bitterness of a childhood apart. Her father remained a constant reminder of that difference as he remained a “young” elf, subject to whims of travel and absent for months at a time. She grew faster than the other elven children, her internal clock ticking at a much different rate which became obvious over time.
Hacathra, her tutor, showed wisdom and compassion. He channeled her fury as best he could. He recognized the potential, and like a blacksmith, tempered her fury into a focused discipline. Honing the mind and body, Lynneth learned the martial arts, showing great promise. Her spirit, however remained disconnected from the natural world of the elven ways.
Hacathra, too, had an adventurous past. He wrote to a family of a human friend long gone, and sought guidance. They wrote back, remembering the ancient family histories which spoke of their great-grandfather’s rich legacies.
A Priest arrived shortly after this flurry of correspondence, and Lynneth journeyed north and began her period of spiritual training in the war-god’s temples.
Thus began her life amongst the disciples of Tempus.
Lynneth reveled in the physical, mental, and spiritual training. She excelled in the order, despite her small stature and obvious elven heritage.
The years passed, and from time to time she would visit with Hacathra, and occasionally, her perpetually absent father. Hacathra, already an old elf, grew older, and her father changed little and continued his endless search for his lost love.
The order of Tempus called, yet Lynneth felt a hesitance. While committed to the martial discipline, and growing in power, she remained apart. In her deepest soul she knew that even here, in the temple, she would not find inner peace. The chaos inside her raged ever on.
Then, on Midsummer’s Eve, while she was standing watch, a tremendous storm rolled across the horizon sweeping suddenly into the temple keep. The thunder grew in intensity, deafening and shaking her to the core. The sky lit up, lightning dancing across the roiling black clouds. Standing in chain mail, on the top of a wall, it was inevitable.
With a blinding flash, the bolt struck Lynneth, knocking her to the ground below. Another flash and the smell of ozone overwhelmed her senses. Lightning continued to crash around her, and yet remarkably, she was unharmed!
Inside her head, a whispering presence crackled. The language was strange, and the voice distant, but she finally understood! The presence of a God can be overwhelming, but in that instant she knew that while Tempus was with her, her true calling lay elsewhere. The whispers of the God explained that like her childhood training in the martial arts with her tutor Hacathra, she was being prepared. Her time with the order of Tempus was now done, and the child of two worlds must move on. The echoes faded with a final warning that the elements themselves would show the way.
As quickly as the storm arrived, it left. The other acolytes and brothers on watch rushed to Lynneth, astounded by the miracle of her survival. The War-Priest Jakratha himself appeared, and handed her a pack filled with supplies and pointed in the direction of the storm. “Go”.
In his other hand, Jakratha held a silver torc, and set in the middle was a stone with a carved rune. The Storm raged on…
Character notes – suggestions for development.
Lynneth is truly is a child of two worlds, but not in the way that she senses. She believes the two worlds is a reference to her elven and human natures….little does she know…
Her mother, Birgette, was a Valkyrie, sent by Odin the all-seeing, to investigate a weakening in the planes related to the coming of Ragnarok. She was pulled into the Forgotten Realms along with Storm Giants, who were feeding the Elemental Princes of the Apocalypse with power across the planes.
The “stranger” who appeared was Odin, who finally caught up with Birgettte. If you think elves have a long life span, consider the divine. The years were just a blip for the Gods.
The God that Lynneth is attuned to is Thor. Thor has no presence in the Forgotten Realms, but is working through the “local” aspect of War, Tempus to influence the outcomes which could lead to Ragnarok. As Lynneth’s power grows, so does Thor’s influence.
Aelthas’ intervention years ago delayed the Princes’ inevitable rise to power. His relationship with Birgette was unexpected, and as Gods are wont to do, Lynneth is now a tool which can be shaped, forged into a weapon, and if broken, discarded. Thor is a war god, after all.
Thor is attuning to Lynneth, which is echoed in her inner turmoil. She is a young half-elf, Chaotic by nature, Neutral by life experience. She’s a young half-elf with “daddy” issues.
Ultimately, Thor is a Chaotic Good diety, so Lynneth will be forced to make choices. If she bends, but does not break, Thor can use her as a vessel to influence the events unfolding in the Forgotten Realms, which will have echoes across the planes.
One skirmish in a greater cosmic battle.
Mere mortals, beware when the Gods play their games! ]
This is my most active character, and he is also by far my favorite.
It needs a lot of work.
Mar'rthon was born a noble in the drow city of Zivinel (not an actual city) to the second house of the city, Fyvin. Being a male, he was treated as inferior in the drow society. He was quite rebellious, although not always for the greater good, and the lessons his family tried to teach him increased his hatred for them even more. As this was happening, dreams of a creature from terrible origins calling him became more and more frequent. Eventually, Mar'rthon snapped. He stormed up to the room of his matron mother, damning Lolth. Even Matron Fyvin didn't know how she could punish him enough. She tried to cast a spell but Mar'rthon coolly walked over to her chair and grabbed her hand before she could finish it. His eyes flashed green, and his mother dissolved into acid slowly, screaming all the while. Suddenly it hit him: he had been coaxed into a pact with a being beyond reality.
He knew he would be hunted for his crimes, so his only recourse was to go to the surface. First he was pleased with his "luck" that allowed him to leave his house, but then he began to understand the true nature of his patron. His only purpose was being a doorway to the material plane. He is still in the pact, but is undergoing a serious character development.
Hey guys! love reading all the backstories and seeing how deep they go. I want to make a Horizon Walker Ranger but am having trouble finding inspiration on the backstory any thoughts to help a guy out? Something about making a character who's class is based off planar travel when you don't have access to planar travel yet is throwing me off.
Hey guys! love reading all the backstories and seeing how deep they go. I want to make a Horizon Walker Ranger but am having trouble finding inspiration on the backstory any thoughts to help a guy out? Something about making a character who's class is based off planar travel when you don't have access to planar travel yet is throwing me off.
This is why Planescape and Sigl were created. That setting allows for low level characters explore the outer plans, and have a "safe" place to return to that Tanar'ri Lords and Arch Baatezu can't reach the players.
Now, Planescape/Sigil isn't everyones cup of tea. So you don't need Sigil to tell your story. Some ideas you could do:
The Feywild & Shadowplane are mirror planes of the Prime, and there are many places a DM can place to pass through a natural portal between the two. You could be an Eladrin (or a Shadar-Kai soon) that could slip through, or a ranger in the prime, learning how to go to those places.
Genasi are plane touched, with a parent/ancestor a Genie from the Elemental planes. Perhaps you want to see your Granddad's home, and you are seeking vortices to access those planes, leading down the Horizonwalker path.
Your parents left a different world on the prime and reside in Faerun. Why did they leave Oerth/Krynn/Athas/etc? Did you want to seek home, or did they pass along knowledge.
Lost from home, Fish out of water, learning about the past, learning about family. Any standard hook can be used; your destination might be farther. It will help if your DM is interested in these settings to support you.
Yeah I was thinking about the Genasi as an interesting jumping off point. I gotta read up on planescape and sigil now. Thanks a lot for these, got a lot of theory crafting to do now!
Claws at Midnight, or 'Midnight', originally came from a distant Tabaxi tribe named Distant Rain. He did not get on with his parents and left the tribe to travel.
As he adventured he learned to fight and steal eventually falling in with thieves guilds. He never stayed with them long finding their structures too restrictive. He hired out his talents as a mercenary, seeking the thrill of the hunt, the risks and the blood as he killed his prey without mercy. However, he had a problem: while he enjoyed killing he hated killing innocents. This became a conflict in his work and got in over his head when he would cancel his contracts on finding out the targets he was sent to hurt or kill were undeserving of such a fate.
He eventually went back to thievery even though it bored him. His bloodlust often coming up and causing chaos. Until he encountered some monks who saw his potential and invited him into their order. He spent 8 years with these monks at their 'Faceless Whispers' monastery hidden away from civilisation. He fitted in very well, taking to their unusual powers and talents easily. They worked as thieves and assassins targeting the worst society offered. He learned to control his bloodlust and considers them his home. Although he enjoyed his time with them and agreed to their philosophies that sense of wanderlust came again. They gave him their blessing, understanding and assured he could return whenever he wanted. He left, eventually running into Smoke from the same tribe, an old friend. Smoke advised him that he was chasing a story but there was an adventuring group called Safari who might one day need another Tabaxi...
Previous Character: Rolen - Firbolg Druid
Rolen's story is fairly simple: he lived in a remote forest of modest size with his fmaily - his small tribe. The forest was cut down as neighbouring societies needed to expand forcing his family out. On the roads, not used to the dangers, the family were attacked by bandits and killed. When a sword came his way power erupted from Rolen and protected him. He does not know where this power came from, it was arcane yet he was druid using the divine magic of nature. It was enough to cause the bandits to flee.
Homeless and grief stricken he entered civilisation to learn about those who destroyed his home and family and why and also to just survive. He eventually met and made a friend in a Tabaxi named Smoke who told him about A Good Knights Rest tavern. Smoke went ahead. Rolen eventually made his way there, meeting Smoke, learning about adventures and how coin was necessary for survival. Maybe he'd go an adventure then?
Previous Character: Smoke - Tabaxi Ranger
Never knew his father and travelled with his mother through the Desert States. When by a lake to rest a group of humans, bandits, attacked them. He was still quite young. They killed his mother and called him a mangy little kitten that should have been drowned and so put him in a sack, weighted it and threw him into the lake. He actually managed to break free and get back up before collapsing.
He wandered and came to a city where he learned to pick pockets and also learned to tell stories, play music and dance - which he did to earn some coin playing on the streets where he could. He eventually earned enough to head back to his people and then to wander around.
He travels to seek adventure for the sake of it, he's not overcome by any desire for revenge and normally is quite jovial - he wants to enjoy life. Just don't make him angry - he does have a vicious streak and would happily rip out your throat with his teeth.
Used in campaign: Of Blood and Blades
Active Character: Donovan Shademire - Shadow Sorcerer (Revised/Homebrew Version of Subclass)
Abandoned at birth and left in a trash heap I was found by a couple who took me in. They were Vincent and Iris Kenning and they raised me well enough. They named me Quentin but I hated the name. I was a shy child and felt unable to really connect with anyone. When I was 6 years of age my powers began to manifest. It felt like something broke inside and out of it spilled darkness that surrounded everything around me. It only lasted a few seconds but was enough to scare my foster parents who tried to kill me by stabbing me through my heart. They thought they succeeded but somehow I survived and crawled out of the shallow grave they made for me and ran away. I never saw them again. Although I healed fully I still bear a small scar over my heart from that day.
I was quite resourceful and found my way to a large city and got by with petty theft. I took to the shadows well. At 13 I tried to steal from a noble's house. Dahlia Shademire, the noble, found me out but rather than stop me or get the guards she took me in and gave me a meal. She sensed I had power and helped me to control it - it turns out I was a sorcerer and she was one too although our magics differed. I was formally adopted into the Shademire family. She was old and had many volumes about the forbidden art of necromancy. She wanted to find a way to cheat death. She never succeeded and fell to illness when I was 22. She bequeathed to me all she had. It was not much, she was a low noble and kept herself away from most politics as had most Shademires who came before her, for she was the last. The Shademire name had always been associated with dark rumours, magic and mystery. What she did have was tomes on magic and enough wealth to see me through my days.
The Shademire Manor and estate is managed by hirelings and I grew tired of the same old routines. There were no new books to read about sorcery and no challenges. I left to seek adventure and expand on my abilities and knowledge. I want to prove that I was worth this gift, this life, and know the value and influence gold has. If I have enough power and gold there's nobody who can say I do not deserve nobility - I am worth more than the trash I was abandoned in.
Previous Character: Lunan Galanodel - High Elf Wizard (Conjurer)
The Galanodel line is an ancient line of noble High Elves who have long produced wizards who mixed magic with business. They are everything you would expect of elven nobility.
Then there is Lunan.
Lunan is not a very motivated individual and while he enjoys the comforts of his noble status, sometimes a bit too much, he also loves camping and sleeping. Yes, sleeping. Most Elves have long since adandoned sleep for their more efficient trance but Lunan is the exception. He prefers genuine sleep. A lot. And when not sleeping he likes lying down, resting and daydreaming. If he was just some simpleton with little to offer this would be fine but in truth he has considerable natural talent for magic. Indeed he does enjoy his magic - particularly where it helps him be lazy. He does work to develop his abilities so that his family can leave him alone and so he creates a world where the lazy dreamers can just lazily dream.
The lands by his family home were invaded by a group of Aivarr seeking to ravage the area for resources in their war. The Drakariat rescued them, beating back the Aivarr. In the battle, Lunan assisted despite his laziness - no matter how lazy he will not allow anyone to harm his family. The Drakariat were impressed with his abilities and asked for his future assistance in exchange for gold. Lunan saw the opportunity to be away from his family nagging him, to prove he can make it on his own without their coddling, and to prove to himself he is more than the lazy dreamer they know him as. He was assigned to work with Commissar Yvrasky who was already in charge of a small band of adventurers.
Note: The campaign is a homebrew world and the Aivarr and Drakariat are factions/empires within it. Yvrasky is essentially an NPC that is in charge of the group when working for the Drakariat and their primary means of getting missions and gold.
Even as a little child I was adept at using little illusions and would often prank people. I became known as "Trick" before anyone, other than my parents, knew my real name was Alvyn. Only my parents know my real name but they never use it, not even when I was in trouble which was quite often. The little forest village I grew up in was not enough for me so I ventured out. I was not on good terms with my parents and I'm certain they are pleased to see me gone. I never looked back and do not regret leaving but a silly part of me actually misses them.
I learned to hide and pick pockets to get by - distracting somebody with a small illusion as I helped myself to some coins. I never took anything that seemed important or sentimental. Just some coins for my dinner. I always targeted the wealthy - those who could certainly spare the missing gold and silver. It wasn't really enough, I wanted more and I like fine things, but what could I do? There wasn't much going for a little gnome on his lonesome.
A wizard saw me use my tricks and complimented me. They decided I would be a good illusionist and they were bored and wanted an apprentice. Now, I say "they" because although they usually presented themselves as a man they used disguises both with tools and with magic and frequently changed appearances in race and gender and had numerous identities. I knew them as Eren, they were kind to me and taught me a lot so I didn't care - if anything I was impressed. Eren got me a spellbook and handed me an old tome - a backup spellbook of theirs. As I studied I learned and eventually the weird words and diagrams seem to make sense and I could copy them into my own spellbook using my own notations. It's rather amazing to think of what I can now do compared to the minor tricks I could only do before.
One day, I came to visit Eren to find a note that said they were off on their own adventure and had nothing left to teach me. So, that was it. It was not a real surprise and while I do miss them I also wouldn't really care if I ever saw them again - they were nice to me, not nice to others and did far bigger cons and crimes than I ever did. My cons are small and usually rely on wealthy people having more money than sense and being too gullible. But my mentor? They could be a criminal mastermind or in jail or dead or across the street from me. I wouldn't have any way of knowing.
I've hit 50. Half a century. I'm still young as a gnome but I think it's time I started seeing more of the world. I need adventure and coin that comes in bigger amounts than my little cons can get me. Maybe I could become one of those "adventurers". Who knows? Only one way to find out...
Bran - Half-Elf Storm Sorcerer
Bran never knew his parents. His mother was a stowaway on a ship - she had no forms of indentification and had hidden herself well. Nobody knew she was on board the Scaled Rider - a ship owned by Captain Leon Vinceres. She was a half-elf. She must have been pregnant when she crept onboard. She was discovered as she cried out in labour. The crew helped her deliver but it was difficult - she died in the childbirth. They never got her name, knew nothing about when she got on board - they had been to multiple ports. It was a complete mystery. They inquired at the ports they had travelled to - nobody knew anything. So the Captain took in the half-elf baby and named him Bran after an old dear friend.
Bran, born at sea during a heavy storm, grew up on that ship. It was his home and family. But fate had more plans for him. One night they were attacked by a pirate - Bran saw the whole crew slaughtered in front of him before being run through with a rapier and tossed overboard. As he drifted in the water he watched the pirates destroy the Scaled Rider with cannonfire before he sank below the water and darkness took him.
Somehow, he woke up on a shore - one that was days away - alive and recovering. He did not know how he survived. Since that day he began to exhibit strange powers. He discovered he was a sorcerer, one with the soul of a storm, and now he travels where he can to obain money, information and to learn about himself. He ultimately seeks to find out what pirate took out his crew and to get vengeance.
--
You may notice a running a theme in these backstories. It's the part of me I play in the characters. Having lost or been abandoned by 3 parents (biological dad, mother, stepdad) I have issues when it comes to parents and find it hard to play a character who has a good family at home but leaves to endanger their lives anyway. So, it's my way of rationalising the characters I make with my own personal mindset considering I have to play these characters, usually, and get in their head.
At 6'4", carrying a dark demeanor and a darker reputation still, Langley, as she is known in the undercurrents of society, is an outcast of harsh reputation. Infamous for her brutal tactics and a lack of regard for the well-being of others -- allies and foes, alike -- she has garnered aliases such as the "Dusk Huntress", the "Scarlet Stalker" and the "Night Widow", to name a few. Woe betide those who find her contracted against them, for their days are most surely numbered.
It was not, however, always this way.
Born to a wealthy trader father in Zakhara, Langley grew up in the lap of luxury with her two older sisters, Ilda and Rae. An avid hunter taught by her father, Langley's skill in archery netted her great admiration in her youth. She and her family lived much of their lives abroad, traveling to far-off exotic locales and hunting various forms of game.
Everything changed when, on the eve of the family's return home for holiday, her father was wrongly accused of heresy against the Grand Caliph by one of his business rivals and arrested. Bearing false evidence to support his testimony, the council found her father guilty of his accusations, and Langley watched her father hauled away to be stoned.
She and her family were stripped of all their wealth and titles, and were forced to take refuge in the wilderness. Not old enough to hold down a job, for a time, Langley supported her family by hunting wild game. About a year later, however, she returned home one evening to find her family brutally slaughtered by wilderness barbarians in a ritual of blood sport.
Enraged by her loss, something in Langley snapped that night, and any care for civility or humanity dissolved within her. Langley took her hunting bow and systematically hunted down the barbarian horde responsible for her family's deaths, massacring them to the last and driving them into extinction.
For this, she claimed her first bounty.
Realizing there was only one thing left for her in her homeland aside from painful memories, Langley took revenge against the conspirators who had seen her father stoned to death by slitting their throats in a night of blood and violence. Gone from her home by daybreak, Langley had packed what little she had and boarded a ship bound for anywhere, seeking out a new life for herself. The ship would eventually take her as far as Lantan, where she would come to purchase her first rifle...
Today, little is known about Langley, aside from the frightening hearsay that swirls about her. In truth, it is not even known if Langley was her original name, or simply one of a number of other aliases she has taken over the course of her life. All she has now is her determination to survive in a cruel, uncaring world, fighting only for herself and her own gain.
Now one of the most feared bounty hunters and outlaws alive in ANY land, having traveled the width and breadth of Toril aboard her airship, the Scarlet's Vengeance, Langley is a cold and calculating hunter, and only coin is deserving of her absolute loyalty. No task is beneath her, so long as the price is right. Those who travel with her, though, should take care to see that she is well-compensated for her time, or they may themselves regret her hire.
Here is the backstory of my Half Dark Elf Warlock Hexblade. Let me know what you guys think!
Kovach's earliest memories are of working in the stifling hot forge operated by Scanlon Stryker, Master Smith. Being bastard born of a tavern maid and a mercenary Drow Elf in the city of Luskan, Kovach's mother did not have many options for her newborn child but to drop him off at the local orphanage. Like most orphans in Luskan that are adopted, not out of love, Kovach was adopted to work in the Iron Ring Forge, owned and operated by Scanlon Stryker. Master Stryker was not considered a kind man, but he was not cruel. He appreciated hard work and Kovach gained his respect at an early age for his work ethic as well as his skill at the forge. Master Stryker took Kovach as his apprentice at an early age and by the age of 18 Kovach became a Master Smith himself. His first master work was a Warhammer that never leaves his side. Like his mentor, Kovach joined the Smith's Guild in Luskan and became a prominent member known for his masterwork weapons which made the Iron Ring Forge a household name. After several years of prosperity and gaining notoriety for his exquisite weapons, Kovach and Master Stryker were working late into the night at the forge, like they have on many other nights. On this night the smith was attacked by what was later found to be soldiers from Ship Kurth sanctioned by the High Capetian for not paying Ship Kurth it's tribute. Master Stryker was murdered and his hands removed and pinned to his chest as a statement to any other shop owner that would fail to pay tribute to Ship Kurth. Kovach was thought dead and left in the forge while the shop was set on fire. He would of burned to death if it was not for a voice that woke him from unconsciousness. The voice was calling his name and it was coming from the store room where his beloved warhammer was kept. Kovach crawled towards the voice which was indeed coming from his hammer. The warhammer was changed. It was a pitch black, darker than anything he had ever seen. It had several glowing amber ruins on the head of the hammer. Images of him picking the weapon up phased in out of his mind. Kovach grasped the warhammer in his hand as the shop started to cave in around him. A voice boomed in his head in undercommon, a language he did not know but seemed to understand. "Good, now break free of this situation before you become like your mentor." A vision of him using the hammer to break through the wall into the street came into his mind. Kovach did as the vision instructed. He was out on the street gasping for air and confused but now safe. The voice started again "You will make an excellent servant as did your father. Leave Luskan for you will be hunted here." While holding the warhammer in his hand Kovach could feel the power he wielded and felt knowledge flowing through it. He knew he could handle this weapon with ease. Not understanding but excited about his new abilities he listened to the voice and left Luskan with the clothes on his back. He has been traveling for years from city to city, town to town, adventuring waiting to hear from the voice again and hoping to learn more information about his father.
Liante'him was born in Ust Natha, the daughter of a minor house. Her family was destroyed early on in her life, when she was no older than 8- a child by elven standards, an infant by elvish ones. The only memories she has of this time are those of her teachings- of the Drow way, and of Lloth. She managed to survive the destruction of her house, and lived as an urchin for a time, hiding from adults as best as possible, knowing that if it was discovered she was still alive, she would be slain, to prevent any claims against the attacking house. She survived mainly by bullying slaves for scraps, which in Drow society is a generally safe way to live as the slaves knew nothing of Drow politics and had every expectation so much as injuring a drow child would result in their immediate demise. As she got a bit older, some of the slaves identified that she always hid when other drow were around, and, feeling emboldened, refused her. She knew immediately the game was up, and it would only be a matter of time before the slaves turned her in for whatever rewards could be gleaned from doing so. She thus fled, into the wilds of the Underdark, hoping to build a new life there, but that wild, dangerous land simply was not one where she could survive for any significant length of time. Always moving, she managed to find her way to the surface through incredible fortune, and has eked out a miserable existence there ever since.
On the surface, her complete lack of knowledge of the common tongue held her back significantly. Drow children in her house were taught Drow first, hand sign second, and common third. She is fluent in Drow (also known as undercommon), and has a rudimentary knowledge of hand sign, but never learned common before the fall of her house. She has picked up the goblin tongue from her time among the slaves, but has never seen them as potential allies. Thus, for the most part, her life has been a solitary one, raw survival alone in the wilderness, with no appreciable social interactions, with only her few prized possessions for comfort. Those are her hand crossbow, a family heirloom and her primary means of self defense, a pet spider, who is usually her sole company, and a statue of Lloth, given to her by her family as a symbol of their house as she made good her escape. The statue of Lloth represents all she knows, and all she has ever known, and she holds the tenents of Lloth to be absolutely true, being a fervent follower of the Spider Goddess. She believes spiders are sacred, and females are inherently superior to male. It also is a reminder to her that she was not always alone.
In addition to being a prized possession, the statue of Lloth is unfortunately cursed as well, and causes those who sleep near it to have fitful nightmares of being hunted by giant spiders in the domain of the Spider Queen. This is something she's blissfully unaware of, as she, being an elf, does not sleep herself. However it does mean that the few times she has approached others, and not been immediately attacked or otherwise driven off, such partnerships have not lasted longer than a single night. Thus mostly she acts much like an animal- hunting what food she can, stealing food when it is convenient, with water, food, and shelter being the whole of her concerns while she continues to endlessly roam the surface, never feeling safe enough to remain somewhere more than a few days. Whether fortunately or unfortunately for her, survival is a skill at which she excels, as is stealth, so there seems little reason anything at all should change in the centuries to come.
The character concept is very similar to Gau from Final Fantasy 6. The idea is she meets up with a party when they eventually notice food is going missing from their packs, if they decide to leave food out for her. Much like a wild animal, she shows less and less caution in taking the food until they approach her. Even then, the lack of knowledge of common is a problem, unless someone knows undercommon or drow hand sign or goblin, but not an insurmountable one. Other problems include the Lloth statue and her complete lack of knowledge of any social custom, such as for example having no idea what money is or why people carry it. She has found these shiny, useless chunks of metal on corpses before, but never once has exchanged it for something nor seen it exchanged for something, so it's been an utter mystery to her. A challenging character to play, and a challenging party member to have, not for the faint of heart or inexperienced out there.
Don't have a decent picture, but I wanted to share my first character that I made on D&D Beyond!
Emelisse Marys is a half-elven ranger. She is 19 and has lived alone since she was 12. When she was young, she lived in a small village, with a childhood sweetheart who gave her jewellery from his father's business. She was kidnapped when she was 4 years of age by members of a Cult of Orcus. There, she met children of all races who had been taken before. She first met Reiner and Theo, human males, half-elven twins Ava and Asher and Nallistri and Kara, two elves. Later, the cult also took Saski, an elf, Jaxon, a halfling and human sisters Safia and Talia. The children were put through absolute hell as the cult performed rituals and sometimes sacrifices on them. The years before they had been captured became a blur as every day they endured living nightmares. The group became incredibly close, and Emelisse felt affection especially for Reiner. The constant torture and rituals turned the entire eye of every child jet black.
When Emelisse was 12, they all decided that they had to escape. They did all manage to get out...except one. Emelisse turned and saw her closest friend being dragged away to the ritual area. As she went to help he shouted "Just run!" as other members helped drag him back. And run she did. She ran and ran and ran in the direction she thought was home. She made it to find her village burned to the ground and her parents lying with their throats butchered. Since that day, she swore her devotion to The Raven Queen. As she left her once home, she found a wooden box with the words I'll find you E.... the rest had been scratched out. Inside was a single silver teardrop earring. She felt a strong connection to it and has worn it ever since.She has travelled through many a town and city, searching for a new place to call home. She has looked for any old friends bit has been unsuccessful. Every so often though, she feels like she sees a familiar face.
I love that story!!! So imaginative and just amazing! As a DM I would love a character like that to play with and it sounds like your gonna have great fun playing her too! I wonder what your DM will do with a story like that...
Commander, this letter was found in the bedroom of Initiate Gerald Watts. Said Initiate has left us and is presumably heading towards Ravenloft.
I grew up in a small village in the far north. Life was simple, life was small. We raised crops, raised children, tended our homes and neighbors. The winters were long and dark, but we had the light of our hearths and hearts to keep us warm. I raised a strong daughter, Illya and she became a strong mother to her own little one, Tonya. After my dear wife, Alison, died of the fever, these two wonderful ladies kept me sane and brought love into my life again.
I was in my 56th year when the disappearances began. Winter had fallen and darkness enveloped our lands for most of the hours of the day. To keep spirits up, we had regular town hall meetings with small festivities and games to give the children a chance to play and the adults the opportunity to swap stories. In a town that close knit, nobody can be missing for long before someone noticed. As several weeks went by and fewer faces showed up to the town hall, we went to their houses to check on them. There was nothing, not a trace. It was like they had vanished. The darkness seemed closer now, the nights colder. Fear was in our eyes and we all held our children a little tighter. Never tight enough.
The screams woke me. I ran to the window and the Miller’s store was in flames across the way. I told Illya to stay put and keep an eye on Tonya while I went to help with the fire. I didn’t tell her I loved before I went. I regret it to this day.
Outside was as though I had stepped into the Nine Hells. The townspeople ran, terrified and were being stalked by…things. Deathly pale skin, long, sharp fingernails like talons and the teeth… I saw one of them tear out the throat of Tonya’s schoolfriend, we had attended her birthday not three days before. Her dark blood on the ribbons still in her hair…I can’t…
No, shut up old man. Shut up there’s no time for that now. Just get this done, damn you. I ran back inside and grabbed Illyna and Tonya and we ran for the dog sleds. They had already been ripped apart and one of the things was there. It was a young girl, couldn’t have been more than 15 but her eyes glowed red and I thought our ends had come. I wish they had. I’d give anything for that to have been the end.
I told Illyna to run while I held off this monster. Illyna broke away and I tried my best but I’m just a stupid old man.
The thing that was once someone’s baby girl knocked me aside like I was a child. As the darkness took me I heard Illyna and Tonya began to scream.
I woke up in a large basement that stank of blood and piss and fear. I was surrounded by the beasts, there was no escape. They shoved Caleb, the Miller’s son, into the ring with me. He was changed, they had turned him into one of them somehow. His fangs glistened in the torchlight as he came for me. Blood thundered in my ears, he was always a strong boy, but the change hadn’t given him their unholy strength, it was still too new. I had no choice. If I could destroy one of them, I would do it, even if it looked like Caleb. If I ever wanted to see Illyna again, I had to. I had to beat his head against the stone floor. I had to remember teaching him to ride a horse for the first time while I did it. I had to remember his family’s pride in him while I watched the final, infernal red light in his eyes fade.
“Now, this one. See if she’s strong. We’ll keep her if she’s strong.” The guttural voice behind me brought me back to myself. I looked up. Long blonde hair glowed, a small, slim frame stood before. Her dress was torn, I told myself I hadn’t watched her mother make that dress. Alison would have been so sad to see it that way. The red glow in Illyna’s eyes told me she didn’t remember her mother anymore.
“Not this. No…Illyna…please honey…where’s Tonya? We need to get Tonya and go. I can’t do this. Please baby, I love you so much. Don’t do this. Where’s Tonya, honey?”
The thing that had been Illyna licked her lips. Her face was covered in gore.
After that I don’t remember much. Pure, animal hatred took me. I remember the sound of a monstrous, inhuman roar and knowing that that was the sound of a piece of me dying, my screams as I fought and killed my daughter. The cheers from those beasts in the darkness, urging on our struggle, they didn’t care who won, they only wanted blood. Afterwards, I was locked in a small cell and I only knew blackness. I don’t know how much time passed. I was not of this world anymore. I never will be again.
Eventually the Knights of the Iron Sun came and freed the town, not that there was much left, of it or me. I joined them, swearing that I would destroy those monsters, those vampires, once and for all. Now I’ve learned that they have a leader. This plague has a source. It lives in a place I’ve never been, a place called Ravenloft. Its name is Strahd.
Quick note, I have essentially just started DND for the first time so my understanding of Kenku lore is limited to Volo's Guide to Monsters. I have read that most Kenku are brown feathered and bear variant eye colors over the years, but mine is a black feathered Kenku with purple eyes. I have asked about the forum on various matters and discovered (from most answers I've recieved) that it's all up to the Player and the DM. Anything goes so long as it doesn't violently break the Weave (or unless you are using a Homebrew Campaign). So any criticism, suggestions, etc is very appreciated! Also, I always attempt to write my tales in ways that readers unfamiliar to a setting would learn and understand as the story progresses. Some of this information displayed may feel redundant to those associated DND. Also I typed this all in one go. I am very tired, and I want to sleep now.
Part One: Darkening Skies
Magic. It takes many forms. Some wield it by drawing power from the Weave, some see it in all of life as miracles or luck, yet others see it as a single moment of captivating wonder. As the ever expanding Weaves bend and flow around a world of immeasurable chance, we all eventually hear her strumming; her enticing serenade. As you stretch out your hand to court this figure of beauty, you discover something that is simple and complex beyond all imagining: that the magic of life isn't meant to be spent cheaply, but to be devoted wholly. The question is... what will you devote your being towards?
As Resonance gazed at the setting sun beyond horizon, he took a moment to admire the varying hues of light as it slowly gave way to a more subtle light; a more beautiful light. As the display stretched before him, he began to intone a deep, resonating hum. Stars began to manifest within the darkened firmament, softly twinkling like a scattering of gems. As Resonance's mind began crafting his feelings into a poem of artistry, he felt the curse of impotence seize it from his being. Opening his crow-like beak, he intoned a sigh. Not his own sigh of course, but a mimicry of a frustrated girl he had witnessed just five days prior. Other races just couldn't understand the plight of the Kenku, though that was implying that they themselves could truly understand it.
Shaking his feathered head, Resonance turned away from the dazzling display and continued his trek through a wooded thicket towards his Flock's roost. At 19, Resonance was one of the older members of this Flock. Most Kenku, he'd discovered, tended to allow their attentions to waver frequently. Most younger Kenku never really considered returning to the Flock, though some did remain and devote themselves to their Alpha's teaching... well, "teaching". From what he had gathered, the Alpha had once been a thief who overheard a bard's song in a tavern. The song had been about the fall of the Kenku and about a lone Kenku who had abandoned his thieving ways to pursue restoration by way of the Kenku gods. Much excitement and traveling later, the Kenku had finally received recognition from the gods and had his wings, creativity, and voice restored to his being.
At the corners of where his beak met face, Resonance curled the flesh there into a slight smirk. A tale developed by a traveling minstrel to cheat coin off drunkards had somehow managed to bewitch the Alpha into forming a Flock and to spread that song in the hopes that the next generations would take it to heart. What foolishness.
You did take it to heart though, didn't you? The thought came to his mind unbidden, but it was not inaccurate. Not entirely. Resonance paused as he glanced about, purple eyes surveying the foliage. It had taken six years for him to learn that his look was not typical of Kenku and to learn why most of the others had shunned him. As he glanced about, Resonance went on alert at the sound of... nothing. No wind, no chirping of insects, nothing. Withdrawing a small dagger, Resonance silently dashed through the tapestries of leaves and branches in search for the cause of the silence. Opening his beak, Resonance attempted to mimic the cawing of a crow only to find that no sound escaped his being. Ordinarily, the call of a crow would be met with the sound of a thunderclap to say the area is clear or with the call of another crow to indicate danger. If all sound was silenced though... Magic.
Stopping in his tracks, Resonance considered his next action. He could run. Likely whatever creature had cast the spell was unaware of him, but the Alpha would be in the center of all of this. As Resonance simulated options, thoughts assaulted his mind.
You should have left long ago. Resonance ignored the thought as he progressed. Is it worth dying for the ideals of another? Do you really believe in her nonsense? As he crept through the thicket, the intermingling scents of blood and smoke assaulted his senses along side the faint echoing of clanging metal. Hastening his pace, Resonance ran to the Flock's Roost only to bear witness to a flaming forest and dark humanoid figures. Attempting to get a better look, Resonance ventured forward and noted figures wearing blood red uniforms. As Resonance attempted to wander closer, he stiffened as a burning pain seared through his chest.
"And another one down." Resonance heard the smugness in her voice as a woman materialized out of the shadows and withdrew her blade from his chest. He crumpled into a bloody heap as his vision faded to black. The last sounds he heard from that night were of the woman kneeling down to his ear as she whispered, "It's nothing personal, you realize. Just... business."
Part Two: Aftermath
As Resonance roused himself to consciousness, he winced in pain. Looking down, he noted the presence of fresh bandages over his feathered chest and a pair of humble, baggy pants. Gazing about, Resonance found himself lying on a mat upon a stone floor. The room possessed a vaulted ceiling and detailed paintings of various races surrounded by some kind of glow. The detailed images were juxtaposed to the humble setting of it all. Save for the images, the rest of the room was comprised of mundane hues of brown and grey. Resonance hummed as he considered the chamber.
"Ah, your awake!" Startled, Resonance sprung out of his nest, ignoring the pain, to gaze at the speaker. "Whoa whoa! Don't move so much, feathered one!" The speaker, an old human wearing orange vestments, waved his hands in the air as if putting a horse at ease. "You were lucky, my boy?" The monk betrayed a questioning tone when he said "boy". Genders among the Kenku were often indeterminable to common folk, though some of the more animalistic races could determine that by instinct. After a long moment of silence, Resonance slowly nodded to the monk's unspoken question. It seemed to put the human at ease.
Resonance cocked his head curiously at the monk as he opened his beak. "Feathered one! One. Lucky?" Resonance mimicked the man's words pitch perfect, though he carried over the monk's questioning tone of "boy" to "Lucky". The monk nodded his head sadly towards Resonance.
"That morning," the monk began, "my brothers and I ventured down to your village. As we tended to do of late." Resonance nodded. He'd heard of a strange group of poorly dressed individuals wandering the Roost. Resonance first thought they may have been thieves looking for loot, but the Alpha had a glimmer of mirth in her eyes upon seeing his suspicion. The Alpha. Resonance's gaze widened as he observed the monk closely, though the man raised his hands in a placating manner. "Calm down, Feathered one. Let me finish." The man settled himself down, crossing his legs. "Now. We ventured down to your village, but when we caught the scent of smoke, we rushed to see what became of you all." The man diverted his gaze from Resonance as he continued. "You were the only survivor, I'm afraid."
"Only survivor." Resonance mimicked this, but in a hushed tone. "Only..." Resonance went silent as he stared at the monk, who sat on the stone floor before him. Shaking himself, as if to awake from a dream, he glanced about and settled on a stone archway leading out into a hallway. He ran towards it, intending to rush to his Roost, his Flock. As Resonance sprinted at the door, he heard the monk cry out in surprise. Bolting through the stone corridor, Resonance burst out of the far end startling two figures wearing similar robes as the other monk. Ignoring the two, Resonance spotted a large oaken door and rammed it with all his strength only to bounce off the wooden surface. As he picked himself up and tried again and again, a palm gently rested upon his back. As he felt it, a wave of calm flooded into him.
"We didn't fix you up, just for you to break yourself again, Feathered one." As Resonance turned to the speaker, he saw a large half-elf withdraw his hand. Resonance couldn't help but gawk at a 7' tall, burly half-elf standing behind him. "Understand," the monk said, "that we are trying to help you. I am brother Isshar. Pleased to meet you." Resonance closed his beak, gulped, and nodded at the smiling Isshar. As Resonance considered him, he noted the first monk pop out of the corridor with a look of confusion on his face. Isshar turned to the newcomer with a raised eyebrow. "Brother Aldrin, I do believe that this one was in your care. Am I correct?"
Aldrin sheepishly walked up, and glanced at Resonance. "I apologize, Brother Isshar. I explained the conditions of our finding him and he, um, well..." Isshar sighed, though he still had a wide smile on his face. Resonance cocked his head as he recorded that sigh for later. Much better that the girl's. More emotion. He was still under Isshar's calming effects. As Resonance reached at the spot where Isshar had touched him, the monks turned to gaze at him.
"What I did," Isshar began, "involved the transfer of Ki, Feathered one." Resonance curiously glanced back at the man. "Ki," he continued, "is a form of magic that flows through living beings. All possess it, but few are able to command it." Taking a step back Isshar stretched out his arms and slammed two fists together, startling Resonance. As Isshar did that, his upper vestments shredded away to reveal bulging muscles and a glowing aura about his form.
Resonance narrowed his gaze in interest and began humming as he intoned, "Ki..." As Resonance hummed, he felt the monk's Ki fade away from his being and concern return to his being. Shaking his head, Resonance glanced back at the oak door. "Village feathered. I help." Resonance returned his gaze to the three monks, who glanced away from him. Resonance brought his claws up together as if praying, and shook them pleadingly at the monks. After a moment, the unnamed monk sighed slightly, drawing Resonance's attention. The Dragonborn monk spoke up in a feminine voice.
"I will open the door for you, but this will be hard for you. Can you bear it?" Resonance gazes at her for a moment, noting the metallic brass scales. Taking a deep breath, Resonance nodded to her. Striding forward past Resonance, she raised a palm and forced open the door to reveal a wide landscape of forests encircled by mountains. One patch of green is blotched with the dead hues of black and grey. The female monk speaks up as she notices the look in his eyes. "We did all we could for your home. I'm sorry." Slowly, Resonance wandered back into the structure, which was apparently carved into the mountain, and remained silent for the time.
Part Three: Decision
As the days passed, Resonance kept himself busy. Silently, he whittled a piece of wood with a knife given to him by Aldrin. With his curse, he could copy any voice or writing presented to him. This ability apparently transferred to wood carving as well. Unfortunately, as he allowed his mind to wander, it seemed that even subconscious creativity was devoured by his curse. What did you expect? Why did you even care? All there will be for you is pain. Frustrated Resonance flung the piece of wood across the room and almost hit the female monk. The one who was called Elder Vserna. Vserna raised an eyebrow at him, as Resonance sheepishly wandered to the projectile and collected it. Vserna sighed as she set down a tray of bread, water, and meat on a table. She turned to regard Resonance who had reseated himself as he continued whittling.
"Come with me, Feathered one." As she said this, the sound of steel on wood ceased for a moment. It promptly continued a moment later. With a look of annoyance, she strode up and roughly grasped Resonance by the beak, causing him to look her in the eyes. "If you are to remain a guest," she said, "then you had best listen when a woman tells you to do something." As she released him, Resonance rubbed his beak for a moment then nodded. As the two wandered the tunnels, they eventually arrived at a large, dimly lit circular room. The other monks appeared to be resting upon the stone floor, eyes closed and above... Above lay a sight that made Resonance, despite himself, mimic a gasp of awe. The chamber's ceiling bore a myriad of small, sparkling lights.
How long had it been since I've seen that sight. Resonance continued to gaze in wonder, as Vserna seated herself in a similar position of meditation. She turned to him, one eye open.
"Join us in meditation for a time will you?" She closed her eyes entirely as she continued. "Allow yourself to be taken up by the flow of the Weave." Resonance stood there motionless. As he gazed at all the monks, he considered leaving for a moment. He almost did, until he looked back down at Vserna and rubbed his beak again. As he seated himself, he copied their postures and closed his eyes. As he did, he heard Vserna speak to him softly. "Breathe, Feathered one. Slowly, deliberately. Focus on each puff of life you take." Resonance attempted to do so, but felt nothing superficial, deep, or mystical. It was oddly comforting though. "What we seek," Vserna whispered, "is to achieve our perfect selves through training and meditation."
As Vserna said this, Resonance was exposed to a flash of memory. A memory of the tale a bard spun to amuse drunken fools and a memory of the Alpha. Perfect self. There is no such thing. All lies. Resonance began to release a deep, resonating hum as he contemplated these memories. As he meditated on his past life with the Flock, he wondered about why the Alpha sought to believe such a fanciful tale. Was it to keep a family close or did she really believe that our best option as a race would be to seek redemption? As he pondered these questions, he wondered. What was the best option for the Kenku? Not for him, but the Kenku as a whole. Eventually Resonance opened his eyes to see an empty room, save for Vserna beside him. As he mimicked a sigh, Resonance moved to stand.
"I've though of what to call you, Feathered one." Resonance made a curious sidelong glance at Vserna who's eyes were still shut. "Considering that you've maintained that humming for over an hour, I think Resonance suits you." He cocked his head considering. The few times he had ventured in cities, common-folk had called him that as well.
"Resonance." He intoned the name, which brought a smile to Vserna's face.
She opened her eyes as she stood and looked at him. "Resonance it is then. Brother." She smiled as she rubbed his head affectionately and walked away. Leaving a confused Kenku.
"Dragonborn..." Resonance intoned. As he walked away to the resting chambers. He was much more tired than he had expected. Upon reaching his mat, he blacked out. Upon waking, Resonance discovered an empty room. Stumbling about, he uncovered a bundle of monks clothing with a purple crystal necklace lying upon the bundle. As Resonance plucked the necklace and twirled it in his fingers, his fingers brushed a thin cut in the gem. Frowning he turned that part up to view what the markings were. On the back of the crystal, the name RESONANCE has been carved. As he glanced between the necklace and then the clothing, Resonance felt something that he'd felt lost. Kinship for a family... for a Flock.
As Resonance continued to learn in the monastery, he eventually read a scroll detailing ancient ruins and magical artifacts. As he read, he came to believe that he had discovered an ancient temple that might bear the secret to the Kenku history. After much deliberation, Resonance thought to seize the chance to continue his original Flock's legacy of restoring the Kenku. With much sorrow, Resonance bid his new Flock farewell and set out into the world.
Compact Summary
Resonance was once a member of a Kenku Flock dedicated to restoring their gods' trust in them. Members of this Flock oft journeyed for such methods, only to return after a month or two. Resonance was one such Kenku. As he was returning from his journey, Resonance was met with the intermingling scent of blood and smoke along with sounds of clanging metal. Rushing to the scene, Resonance noted a group of soldiers wearing blood red uniforms. Witnessing the carnage, Resonance did not notice as a Ranger slipped behind him and ran him through with a blade. Upon waking, Resonance discovered that he had been nursed back to health by monks whom he attempted to run from at first. Eventually they placated him and found a new member to their community. Resonance meditated with the monks until he read of ancient ruins and lost magics, triggering the memory of his original Flock's goals. With much sorrow, Resonance bade his new Flock farewell as he sought to continue his Flock's legacy: the restoration of the Kenku.
And now I sleep after... 2 hours. GOODNIGHT!
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The Pen or the Sword... Let Us See Which is the Sharper of the Two!
Don't have every detail yet but I immediately fell in love with the Mastermind the moment I read it. This is a backup character I have for any of the games I'm currently playing in, and am very happy with how he's come along, as I've managed to keep the essence of the dark backstory while keeping the Rogue aspect ultimately edge-free. Liam is a team-player, socialite and jokester on a mission to find his way in life.
Liam Cohan - Mastermind Rogue
Liam grew up in the circus after being abandoned on the wild roads between cities. The circus was called Le Cirque Enchevetre, and had as many oddities as a piano has keys, from a very early age, and with quite a lot of practice, Liam was taught how to mimic those around him, and how to throw his voice. He started out as a puppeteer, controlling and holding conversations with many of the makeshift characters the circus was accompanied by, his favourite was a blue and green orc named Gorgosh who was allowed to say some of the ruder jokes that Liam appreciated in his youth.
With more practice, Liam learned now just how to mimic voices, but also objects, such as rushing water, a sword being swung, an arrow being fired, he was a natural. In his spare time he practiced as a knife thrower, learning how to wield daggers, knowing exactly when to miss. When he was 16 he had done many acts involving both daggers and voices, and was approached by crooks in a particular city of bad reputation and asked if he would like to do a job for them, Liam was interested and asked further. They told him that if he managed to pretend to be a soldier of the city to break into a city officials home and kill him without anyone noticing, they would pay him thousands. He knew that his circus had fallen on some hard times, and wanted to get everyone to smile again, so he took it.
During his stay, he impersonated a soldier he had met earlier to persuade a carer of the home to allow him in, once the help was dispatched, he sneaked into the upper levels to find the man, sitting at his desk, writing. With some great hesitation, Liam took the blade and stabbed the man in the head, hoping to allow him a quick death, and while successful, he himself was covered in it. After receiving his pay, a weeping and near catatonic Liam made his way back to the campsite to try and wash the blood from his clothes before anyone caught him, during his panic the leader of the circus, Ezpie, a fire breathing elf and showwoman found him. Remaining supportive and comforting, Ezpie helped Liam wash his clothes and let him know that while he tried to do the right thing for some, purposely did not think about the consequences of his actions, and asked him to think more. Ezpie helped Liam through the harder times after this, helping him through his nightmares, aiding him in doing random acts of kindness for those they performed for, and helping him move on, while no one else at the circus knew about his actions.
Then everything went to hell two years later.
While Liam was out doing shopping for his friends and coworkers in a new and exciting village, he heard screams from townsfolk, and saw a large pillar of smoke a ways off. Bolting to the scene, Liam's heart broke as he saw his home burnt down, the main tent as well as the surrounding private tents were in ruin, the grass blackened and charred, while bodies lay everywhere. Liam didn't hesitate as he ran into the private tent areas, searching for anyone still alive, ignoring the flames that lapped at his body, he still has many of these burns to this day. In the main tent he found Ezpie, cradling the body of a dead Delphie, the youngest member of the circus, a singer and animal whisper, only 13 years old.
As Ezpie could not protest due to her burned vocal chords, Liam dragged her and Delphie's body from the wreckage as it continued collapsing around them, laying them on the grass as they escaped the blaze. Liam did not know how to help Ezpie, and called for aid as he asked what happened, Ezpie told him that 2 years ago, she tipped off the city guard to the 2 men that hired Liam as the circus was leaving the city. In fact she had remembered their faces as she had spotted them approaching him, hoping they would not have to remember them again, she didn't tell Liam and kept it to herself in order to let him focus on inner healing. But, those 2 men had friends, and they had been searching for Liam for the entire time, and it seemed like they had finally caught up with them.
Ezpie died in Liam's arms, and with no home, no friends and no family. Liam left on a mission of soul searching, and pondering the idea of revenge.
With his natural abilities of ventriloquism, mimicry and voice throwing, Liam easily found his way into performance acts as well as odd bounty jobs on the side. Rescue the old priest here, chase off the goblins there, which eventually led Liam into an adventuring-esque lifestyle, as he attempts to put his past behind him and do well for those that need well to come to them. Though he avoids the darker sides of cities, as he does not know what he would do if he were to run into those that killed his previous family.
Here is my ranger/druid multiclass female wood elf...
Syviis Krislee was born is a town of Darvvunna, and immediately after the birth if her twin sister, Solana, her parents divorced, taking one child each. Syviis (SI-VEES) was stuck with her mom. They lived in the slums of Darvunna, while the dad took all their money and Solana and left. Syviis was always a nature child, hanging in trees, playing with wild animals, though she didn't focus much on her studies. She was attractive to most boys, hanging around other men. The few that didn't like her bullied her. The bullies were either stopped by the crowd of boys that wanted her good graces, or herself. She was a skilled fighter, beating other men in strength contests. When she was 23, she had won small fame as the strongest woman in her district. Only few boys that found her attractive ever had a chance. She was getting a love life when disaster struck.
When Syciis was around 34, her mother was mugged, raped, and murdered. In a haze, Syviis ran away from home. She ran out of the city. Her nature skills helped her live in the surrounding land. She found a pack of wolves, and was, in fact, raised by wolves. Her favorite wild shape is the wolf, and her beast master archetype is a wolf. I'm sorry this isn't much, but I ran out of time. All the stories that I read were amazing. If you have any questions about Syviis Krislee, message me.
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I love roleplaying, message me so we can set something up.
I talk everything D&D, message me for questions, chat, arguements, or roleplay!
"Oh, great," you may be thinking. "A chance for a narcissistic player to ramble like a self-absorbed dandy throughout the campaign." It wasn't my fault!
I was grateful to be invited at the last minute to an ambitious circle of players. When I arrived at the campaign's first session, I told everybody that I would gladly play a healer if they needed one. The group said, "We have enough healing. Even though you are willing to play a Life Cleric, maybe you could be a bard instead?" 5 minutes later, Lokai was generated (thanks to some strong updates to DnD Beyond). His tragic story follows. [Oh, and please respect the names of his former bands as the intellectual properties of the vested parties.]
Lokai learned from an early age that talent and performance would serve him better than a dedication to academics or farming ever would. One night, a fortuitous jam session introduced Lokai to a troubadour gnome named Otto (full stage name, "Otto Tunes"), who showed Lokai how some special people could unlock a hidden power inside of music and oration. Otto taught Lokai how to play the bagpipes to such effect, and Lokai loved it. Lokai began to join passing troupes and bands to share his gifts. He played with a few groups, like:
The Wiper Druids
Drawn and Quartet
Child of Destiny
Flayer
Slings n' Arrows: Dramatic Wartime Re-Enactments and Players of Roles of the Highest Quality
Jazzerwocky
And then he met his nemesis, a wily old charlatan who called himself "Uncle Jasper."
Uncle Jasper's "Wholesome Fun Times Ensemble" was getting great reviews in the local tavern circuit, and Lokai was flattered by Jasper's welcome. Jasper even convinced a still-naive Lokai that performing the bagpipes while wearing a bear-suit would make a dynamite novelty act in Jasper's ensemble. Lokai charmed crowds, but eventually began to resent being stuck in the bear suit and letting Uncle Jasper keep Lokai's talent suppressed through anonymity. One fateful night, Lokai performed as normal to an appreciative crowd... but then broke character and removed the bear costume mask to let his face be seen. The crowd loved it, but an upstaged Jasper quickly plotted his revenge for this betrayal.
Jasper pretended to appreciate Lokai's decision, and threw Lokai a huge party at the Dragon's Head in Greenvale to celebrate. Then, before paying the tab, Jasper left town with the rest of the band and stuck Lokai with a huge debt. Lokai tried to repay what he could, but Bartender Bill was furious. Being abandoned and framed by his band has put Lokai in an uncomfortable position. His professional reputation was shattered, and Lokai hit a string of misfortune. Instead of being welcomed in towns, he tends to accumulate suspicion, unearned blame, and mistrust. Worse, he ended up in Greenvale again when bad weather forced Lokai to seek shelter there. If he is discovered, he may be forced - at swordpoint - to clear himself of a crime he didn't commit!
He still plays the lute, but he can't look down at his unplayed bagpipes without fighting a bittersweet swirl of emotions. However, maybe, perhaps, one day, someday, those same emotions will become a source of potency for his art.
If his backpack honks when he walks amongst a party of adventurers, don't ask him about it until he offers to explain...
My character is a bit of a long winded one and i would appreciate a bit of leeway on any spelling or grammar errors that happen to come up. He is a Half water Genasi Monk with a Sailor background from a Floating city called Al' Amwaj. I can't decide between 4 elements and Trident Kensei for him yet.
Dagne Sutomu was always meant for the sea. Born on the Floating city of Al' Amwaj, he was raised to be nothing more than a Son of the Father of Storms. A sailor by the age of 12 and a ships captain by 17, Dagne was always good and true to the words of his God. Then, around his 27th year, he was attacked by one of the roving wereshark clans that inhabited the seas he called home. He was beached and bitten, not knowing if he could survive. His ship was wrecked on shoal waters and his crew, with the exception of his first mate who betrayed him to the clans in the first place, left him for dead in the middle of the water on a full moon night. For the next two months, Dagne goes full shark and doesn't remember a thing.
the next thing he known, he crawls up on land after being delirious and finds himself back in civilization. everyone he knows, thinks he's dead. He re-establishes his life and starts building a new ship. then the nightmares happen, with images of eating people and crew members alive.
PC: Brozznan Kane - Undead in Skyraker |
DM:
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Well, my current top muse driving a campaign. I tried to leave the DM some hooks to work with, but really I ended up with hooks I could buff my experiments in writing:
Myrai was born approximately 22 years ago in The City of Doors, Sigil. Shortly after her birth she was given up as an orphan to the The Gatehouse, the headquarters of the Bleak Cabal. Given up without a name, a legacy (a sort of inheritance) or coin, she was essentially interred in the asylum, until her debt was paid, and she came of age. While sad, for the Hive most orphanages were simply conscripted child labor for unscrupulous merchants. The Gatehouse was an improvement.
Growing up, she adopted the name Myrai from “Mirror-eyed” a tease that the other orphans would use. Orphans are common enough in the Hive, all are poor. But very few are Asimaar. And unlike most Asimaars, Myrai was a first generation. "foundling" That’s all she could get from the Bleakers about her being dropped off. Not a clue about her mother and that her father was obviously a celestial of some type.
Three key events basically forged her into what she was to become. The first when Myrai was thirteen, was the death of her friend Elisna. Death was common enough for the Hive, and not a stranger to the Gatehouse. But Elisna had managed to sign a Dustman contract. Now the Dustman don’t normally do contracts for the underage giving coin for their future dead shell. But Elisna managed it, and then found herself a corpse due to an accident in the Hive, and Contract #453 was promptly retrieved and turned into a zombie (the Dusties, found their Deader and turned them into a Musty). The Zombie was used to deliver messages between the Mortuary and the Gatehouse. It seemed intrinsically wrong to Myrai, to see this…desecration to her friend. While Myrai had been apathetic to the Bleaker’s philosophy, it started her passion against the undead, and the Dustman practices using them. It also started her down a path of rejecting the Bleak Cabal’s nihilism. There was purpose to life and universe even though it might be challenging to understand the why’s.
The second, was discovering the Society of Sensation. While every child knows (or knew) all fifteen factions, it doesn’t mean they experience or meet members or see their works. Myrai had an opportunity to deliver a message to the Civil Festhall. This was the first time she had left the Hive, and entered the Clerk’s Ward. She delivered her message to a member there, and instead of running back, she stayed. Many who encounter the Senates see the experiences, and embrace only a limited experience, especially hedonism. She saw the truth; sensation is about knowledge, and knowledge is a key to power. Power to influence, make friends, hamper and hurt enemies. Knowledge was purpose. The Society is easy to join, and she actively looked for ways to earn coin, rather than rely on chores to be doled out at the Gatehouse. She spent as much time and money as she could to learn. To read/write, and along the way discovered the relatively new god Kelemvor, and learned about how the god was changing how death was to viewed, and how the undead and their creators to be abhorred. But she found more comfort in the how death framed the rightful struggle of life, and she became a true believer in the faith.
The third event occurred, when she was sixteen; Sigil erupted into a civil war called the Faction war. For the next five years, the war rampaged, and Myrai spent her time with the Sensates helping with the common folk as much as she could. She also earned enough gold to pay off her orphanage dues to the Bleak Cabal. Nearing the end of the war, the Anarchists managed to infiltrate the Gatehouse, and free many inmates there, notably the criminally insane. As the inmates ran rampant one took a fancy to Myrai remembering her as a “tormentor” (she only brought food to him as a chore, but he always thought the food was poisoned). Myrai, didn’t know his name, but he chased her through the Hive into Rag Pickers Square, with an intent to kill. Exhausted, Myrai was desperate, and while seeking a place to hide she stumbled across an idol. It was hard to miss, and seemed out of place. Rag Picker’s square is a trash pit, but lying on the ground was a silvery idol that was out of place and seemed to glow. Despite the danger of being chased by an adle-coved inmate she was fascinated and drawn to the strange idol. She reached out to grab it and upon touching the idol she felt a surge of power. It seemed to want something from her, but whatever message was weak, and unclear. But Myrai “felt” a source of power, and reached out and forcefully tapped the heart of that power. A link was created to the source…with what is not clear. Turning around Myrai cast her first Eldritch Blast, wounding and scaring off her pursuer. But somehow the idol was gone. The war ended shortly afterwards. The Lady of Pain gave her dictum via her Dabus: ““This city tolerates your faction no longer. Abandon it or die.” The factions started to break apart across all of Sigil. Half the Sensates left for Aboria, the other half remained to help Sigil rebuild.
During the aftermath, Myrai also took up odd jobs for money. One of these odd jobs had her run a message to the Burning Corpse Bar, in the Hive. While there, an argument arose about who really won the Blood War between a Bone Devil and a Glabrezu. During the ensuing fight, Myrai dove behind the bar to escape the fiends. As she was about to land, a portal opens up and she disappears within, without a portal key, or a way home. She found herself in a haystack in a place called Triboar?
This led to...well, a lot of writing exercises and the self reflection on needing to better with grammar checking at least. Much of that is found here. Spending some time reworking it here and there.
That led to a different character and perspective in a different campaign...with a little a little cross over here and there as a story from a different perspective.
Gimlett Gimlettson is an old dwarf. He had an adventuring life, once, but fell in love and settled down. Fourteen sons later he's beginning to realise that a curse he suffered decades ago is coming back to haunt him. None of his sons can father their own children; those that do find the infants still-born, born weak and sickly, or dying young in suspicious circumstances.
The old dwarf is sharpening his axe once more, determined to rid himself of his curse and save his sons from his doom.
This was my character from a campaign which ran for the last couple of years and finished up recently. I joined in a few weeks into the already-running PotA campaign in a local games shop and was thrilled to see D&D being played again. Yes, it's been a few years since 1st and 2nd editions, but WoTC has kept things alive.
A chance one-time drop in session evolved into some great new friendships and some epic tales. After the first session, where Lynneth was entrusted to me by another player from their pre-rolled stash ("uh, we could use a cleric!"), my brain just had to fill in the backstory. The DM grinned at me when I handed him the two pages below.
Thanks Lynneth and the River Hydra Trading Company! The journey was awesome!
Lynneth Galbraes, Cleric - Tempest Domain
Her earliest memory was of the storm. Most children cower and hide in inclement weather, but Lynneth was always different; not elven, despite her fine features; not human either. Half-elven children are rarely content.
The elven children of the royal brood accepted her, at least as far as the elders could see, but Lynneth was different. Quick to anger, quick to laugh; almost a perfect blend of her diverse heritage. Almost. Now there’s the word.
Her parents were as much an anomaly as Lynneth. Her father, Aelthas Galbraes, youngest son of a minor house was known for wandering the lands. In one of those epic journeys he came across a woman, desperately fighting Giants in the midst of a maelstrom. In a moment, Aelthas committed himself to battle.
The human woman was critically wounded in the final moments of battle and collapsed as the Giants were driven back. She was strangely garbed, and spoke in a strange language. Aelthas carried her back to the elven clerics and she took some time to recover.
In the following months, Aelthas and Birgette became closer, and inevitably grew to love one another, despite their limited ability to speak a common language. In time, they were joined by Lynneth. For a time, they were happy and content as a family.
When Lynneth was six years old, a stranger appeared at their home. Birgette became agitated; not frightened, but clearly concerned. In her limited elvish, Birgette explained to Aelthas that the stranger had been seeking her. Birgette and the stranger exchanged heated words, and with a thunderous clap, the one-eyed stranger vanished, and with him, Lynneth’s mother. In her place; a stone with a carved rune remained.
Her father left Lynneth with Hacathra: her tutor, friend, and surrogate parent while Aelthas sought answers. The priests and mages found nothing. Over time, the wounds healed…but not quite.
Aelthas came and left, single-minded in his efforts to find his wife, and the years passed. Elf, Human, and Half-elves experience time’s endless passage differently. Lynneth grew, learning from Hacathra the history of the elves, the duty of nobility, and the bitterness of a childhood apart. Her father remained a constant reminder of that difference as he remained a “young” elf, subject to whims of travel and absent for months at a time. She grew faster than the other elven children, her internal clock ticking at a much different rate which became obvious over time.
Hacathra, her tutor, showed wisdom and compassion. He channeled her fury as best he could. He recognized the potential, and like a blacksmith, tempered her fury into a focused discipline. Honing the mind and body, Lynneth learned the martial arts, showing great promise. Her spirit, however remained disconnected from the natural world of the elven ways.
Hacathra, too, had an adventurous past. He wrote to a family of a human friend long gone, and sought guidance. They wrote back, remembering the ancient family histories which spoke of their great-grandfather’s rich legacies.
A Priest arrived shortly after this flurry of correspondence, and Lynneth journeyed north and began her period of spiritual training in the war-god’s temples.
Thus began her life amongst the disciples of Tempus.
Lynneth reveled in the physical, mental, and spiritual training. She excelled in the order, despite her small stature and obvious elven heritage.
The years passed, and from time to time she would visit with Hacathra, and occasionally, her perpetually absent father. Hacathra, already an old elf, grew older, and her father changed little and continued his endless search for his lost love.
The order of Tempus called, yet Lynneth felt a hesitance. While committed to the martial discipline, and growing in power, she remained apart. In her deepest soul she knew that even here, in the temple, she would not find inner peace. The chaos inside her raged ever on.
Then, on Midsummer’s Eve, while she was standing watch, a tremendous storm rolled across the horizon sweeping suddenly into the temple keep. The thunder grew in intensity, deafening and shaking her to the core. The sky lit up, lightning dancing across the roiling black clouds. Standing in chain mail, on the top of a wall, it was inevitable.
With a blinding flash, the bolt struck Lynneth, knocking her to the ground below. Another flash and the smell of ozone overwhelmed her senses. Lightning continued to crash around her, and yet remarkably, she was unharmed!
Inside her head, a whispering presence crackled. The language was strange, and the voice distant, but she finally understood! The presence of a God can be overwhelming, but in that instant she knew that while Tempus was with her, her true calling lay elsewhere. The whispers of the God explained that like her childhood training in the martial arts with her tutor Hacathra, she was being prepared. Her time with the order of Tempus was now done, and the child of two worlds must move on. The echoes faded with a final warning that the elements themselves would show the way.
As quickly as the storm arrived, it left. The other acolytes and brothers on watch rushed to Lynneth, astounded by the miracle of her survival. The War-Priest Jakratha himself appeared, and handed her a pack filled with supplies and pointed in the direction of the storm. “Go”.
In his other hand, Jakratha held a silver torc, and set in the middle was a stone with a carved rune. The Storm raged on…
Character notes – suggestions for development.
Lynneth is truly is a child of two worlds, but not in the way that she senses. She believes the two worlds is a reference to her elven and human natures….little does she know…
Her mother, Birgette, was a Valkyrie, sent by Odin the all-seeing, to investigate a weakening in the planes related to the coming of Ragnarok. She was pulled into the Forgotten Realms along with Storm Giants, who were feeding the Elemental Princes of the Apocalypse with power across the planes.
The “stranger” who appeared was Odin, who finally caught up with Birgettte. If you think elves have a long life span, consider the divine. The years were just a blip for the Gods.
The God that Lynneth is attuned to is Thor. Thor has no presence in the Forgotten Realms, but is working through the “local” aspect of War, Tempus to influence the outcomes which could lead to Ragnarok. As Lynneth’s power grows, so does Thor’s influence.
Aelthas’ intervention years ago delayed the Princes’ inevitable rise to power. His relationship with Birgette was unexpected, and as Gods are wont to do, Lynneth is now a tool which can be shaped, forged into a weapon, and if broken, discarded. Thor is a war god, after all.
Thor is attuning to Lynneth, which is echoed in her inner turmoil. She is a young half-elf, Chaotic by nature, Neutral by life experience. She’s a young half-elf with “daddy” issues.
Ultimately, Thor is a Chaotic Good diety, so Lynneth will be forced to make choices. If she bends, but does not break, Thor can use her as a vessel to influence the events unfolding in the Forgotten Realms, which will have echoes across the planes.
One skirmish in a greater cosmic battle.
Mere mortals, beware when the Gods play their games! ]
* edit...figuring out the tags.
This is my most active character, and he is also by far my favorite.
It needs a lot of work.
Mar'rthon was born a noble in the drow city of Zivinel (not an actual city) to the second house of the city, Fyvin. Being a male, he was treated as inferior in the drow society. He was quite rebellious, although not always for the greater good, and the lessons his family tried to teach him increased his hatred for them even more. As this was happening, dreams of a creature from terrible origins calling him became more and more frequent. Eventually, Mar'rthon snapped. He stormed up to the room of his matron mother, damning Lolth. Even Matron Fyvin didn't know how she could punish him enough. She tried to cast a spell but Mar'rthon coolly walked over to her chair and grabbed her hand before she could finish it. His eyes flashed green, and his mother dissolved into acid slowly, screaming all the while. Suddenly it hit him: he had been coaxed into a pact with a being beyond reality.
He knew he would be hunted for his crimes, so his only recourse was to go to the surface. First he was pleased with his "luck" that allowed him to leave his house, but then he began to understand the true nature of his patron. His only purpose was being a doorway to the material plane. He is still in the pact, but is undergoing a serious character development.
Hey guys! love reading all the backstories and seeing how deep they go. I want to make a Horizon Walker Ranger but am having trouble finding inspiration on the backstory any thoughts to help a guy out? Something about making a character who's class is based off planar travel when you don't have access to planar travel yet is throwing me off.
Lost from home, Fish out of water, learning about the past, learning about family. Any standard hook can be used; your destination might be farther. It will help if your DM is interested in these settings to support you.
Yeah I was thinking about the Genasi as an interesting jumping off point. I gotta read up on planescape and sigil now. Thanks a lot for these, got a lot of theory crafting to do now!
Used in campaign: Tales of Veliyos
Active Character: Midnight - Tabaxi Shadow Monk
Claws at Midnight, or 'Midnight', originally came from a distant Tabaxi tribe named Distant Rain. He did not get on with his parents and left the tribe to travel.
As he adventured he learned to fight and steal eventually falling in with thieves guilds. He never stayed with them long finding their structures too restrictive. He hired out his talents as a mercenary, seeking the thrill of the hunt, the risks and the blood as he killed his prey without mercy. However, he had a problem: while he enjoyed killing he hated killing innocents. This became a conflict in his work and got in over his head when he would cancel his contracts on finding out the targets he was sent to hurt or kill were undeserving of such a fate.
He eventually went back to thievery even though it bored him. His bloodlust often coming up and causing chaos. Until he encountered some monks who saw his potential and invited him into their order. He spent 8 years with these monks at their 'Faceless Whispers' monastery hidden away from civilisation. He fitted in very well, taking to their unusual powers and talents easily. They worked as thieves and assassins targeting the worst society offered. He learned to control his bloodlust and considers them his home. Although he enjoyed his time with them and agreed to their philosophies that sense of wanderlust came again. They gave him their blessing, understanding and assured he could return whenever he wanted. He left, eventually running into Smoke from the same tribe, an old friend. Smoke advised him that he was chasing a story but there was an adventuring group called Safari who might one day need another Tabaxi...
Previous Character: Rolen - Firbolg Druid
Rolen's story is fairly simple: he lived in a remote forest of modest size with his fmaily - his small tribe. The forest was cut down as neighbouring societies needed to expand forcing his family out. On the roads, not used to the dangers, the family were attacked by bandits and killed. When a sword came his way power erupted from Rolen and protected him. He does not know where this power came from, it was arcane yet he was druid using the divine magic of nature. It was enough to cause the bandits to flee.
Homeless and grief stricken he entered civilisation to learn about those who destroyed his home and family and why and also to just survive. He eventually met and made a friend in a Tabaxi named Smoke who told him about A Good Knights Rest tavern. Smoke went ahead. Rolen eventually made his way there, meeting Smoke, learning about adventures and how coin was necessary for survival. Maybe he'd go an adventure then?
Previous Character: Smoke - Tabaxi Ranger
Never knew his father and travelled with his mother through the Desert States. When by a lake to rest a group of humans, bandits, attacked them. He was still quite young. They killed his mother and called him a mangy little kitten that should have been drowned and so put him in a sack, weighted it and threw him into the lake. He actually managed to break free and get back up before collapsing.
He wandered and came to a city where he learned to pick pockets and also learned to tell stories, play music and dance - which he did to earn some coin playing on the streets where he could. He eventually earned enough to head back to his people and then to wander around.
He travels to seek adventure for the sake of it, he's not overcome by any desire for revenge and normally is quite jovial - he wants to enjoy life. Just don't make him angry - he does have a vicious streak and would happily rip out your throat with his teeth.
Used in campaign: Of Blood and Blades
Active Character: Donovan Shademire - Shadow Sorcerer (Revised/Homebrew Version of Subclass)
Abandoned at birth and left in a trash heap I was found by a couple who took me in. They were Vincent and Iris Kenning and they raised me well enough. They named me Quentin but I hated the name. I was a shy child and felt unable to really connect with anyone. When I was 6 years of age my powers began to manifest. It felt like something broke inside and out of it spilled darkness that surrounded everything around me. It only lasted a few seconds but was enough to scare my foster parents who tried to kill me by stabbing me through my heart. They thought they succeeded but somehow I survived and crawled out of the shallow grave they made for me and ran away. I never saw them again. Although I healed fully I still bear a small scar over my heart from that day.
I was quite resourceful and found my way to a large city and got by with petty theft. I took to the shadows well. At 13 I tried to steal from a noble's house. Dahlia Shademire, the noble, found me out but rather than stop me or get the guards she took me in and gave me a meal. She sensed I had power and helped me to control it - it turns out I was a sorcerer and she was one too although our magics differed. I was formally adopted into the Shademire family. She was old and had many volumes about the forbidden art of necromancy. She wanted to find a way to cheat death. She never succeeded and fell to illness when I was 22. She bequeathed to me all she had. It was not much, she was a low noble and kept herself away from most politics as had most Shademires who came before her, for she was the last. The Shademire name had always been associated with dark rumours, magic and mystery. What she did have was tomes on magic and enough wealth to see me through my days.
The Shademire Manor and estate is managed by hirelings and I grew tired of the same old routines. There were no new books to read about sorcery and no challenges. I left to seek adventure and expand on my abilities and knowledge. I want to prove that I was worth this gift, this life, and know the value and influence gold has. If I have enough power and gold there's nobody who can say I do not deserve nobility - I am worth more than the trash I was abandoned in.
Previous Character: Lunan Galanodel - High Elf Wizard (Conjurer)
The Galanodel line is an ancient line of noble High Elves who have long produced wizards who mixed magic with business. They are everything you would expect of elven nobility.
Then there is Lunan.
Lunan is not a very motivated individual and while he enjoys the comforts of his noble status, sometimes a bit too much, he also loves camping and sleeping. Yes, sleeping. Most Elves have long since adandoned sleep for their more efficient trance but Lunan is the exception. He prefers genuine sleep. A lot. And when not sleeping he likes lying down, resting and daydreaming. If he was just some simpleton with little to offer this would be fine but in truth he has considerable natural talent for magic. Indeed he does enjoy his magic - particularly where it helps him be lazy. He does work to develop his abilities so that his family can leave him alone and so he creates a world where the lazy dreamers can just lazily dream.
The lands by his family home were invaded by a group of Aivarr seeking to ravage the area for resources in their war. The Drakariat rescued them, beating back the Aivarr. In the battle, Lunan assisted despite his laziness - no matter how lazy he will not allow anyone to harm his family. The Drakariat were impressed with his abilities and asked for his future assistance in exchange for gold. Lunan saw the opportunity to be away from his family nagging him, to prove he can make it on his own without their coddling, and to prove to himself he is more than the lazy dreamer they know him as. He was assigned to work with Commissar Yvrasky who was already in charge of a small band of adventurers.
Note: The campaign is a homebrew world and the Aivarr and Drakariat are factions/empires within it. Yvrasky is essentially an NPC that is in charge of the group when working for the Drakariat and their primary means of getting missions and gold.
Not in any campaign but made anyway
Alvyn "Trick" Timbers - Gnome Wizard (Illusionist)
Even as a little child I was adept at using little illusions and would often prank people. I became known as "Trick" before anyone, other than my parents, knew my real name was Alvyn. Only my parents know my real name but they never use it, not even when I was in trouble which was quite often. The little forest village I grew up in was not enough for me so I ventured out. I was not on good terms with my parents and I'm certain they are pleased to see me gone. I never looked back and do not regret leaving but a silly part of me actually misses them.
I learned to hide and pick pockets to get by - distracting somebody with a small illusion as I helped myself to some coins. I never took anything that seemed important or sentimental. Just some coins for my dinner. I always targeted the wealthy - those who could certainly spare the missing gold and silver. It wasn't really enough, I wanted more and I like fine things, but what could I do? There wasn't much going for a little gnome on his lonesome.
A wizard saw me use my tricks and complimented me. They decided I would be a good illusionist and they were bored and wanted an apprentice. Now, I say "they" because although they usually presented themselves as a man they used disguises both with tools and with magic and frequently changed appearances in race and gender and had numerous identities. I knew them as Eren, they were kind to me and taught me a lot so I didn't care - if anything I was impressed. Eren got me a spellbook and handed me an old tome - a backup spellbook of theirs. As I studied I learned and eventually the weird words and diagrams seem to make sense and I could copy them into my own spellbook using my own notations. It's rather amazing to think of what I can now do compared to the minor tricks I could only do before.
One day, I came to visit Eren to find a note that said they were off on their own adventure and had nothing left to teach me. So, that was it. It was not a real surprise and while I do miss them I also wouldn't really care if I ever saw them again - they were nice to me, not nice to others and did far bigger cons and crimes than I ever did. My cons are small and usually rely on wealthy people having more money than sense and being too gullible. But my mentor? They could be a criminal mastermind or in jail or dead or across the street from me. I wouldn't have any way of knowing.
I've hit 50. Half a century. I'm still young as a gnome but I think it's time I started seeing more of the world. I need adventure and coin that comes in bigger amounts than my little cons can get me. Maybe I could become one of those "adventurers". Who knows? Only one way to find out...
Bran - Half-Elf Storm Sorcerer
Bran never knew his parents. His mother was a stowaway on a ship - she had no forms of indentification and had hidden herself well. Nobody knew she was on board the Scaled Rider - a ship owned by Captain Leon Vinceres. She was a half-elf. She must have been pregnant when she crept onboard. She was discovered as she cried out in labour. The crew helped her deliver but it was difficult - she died in the childbirth. They never got her name, knew nothing about when she got on board - they had been to multiple ports. It was a complete mystery. They inquired at the ports they had travelled to - nobody knew anything. So the Captain took in the half-elf baby and named him Bran after an old dear friend.
Bran, born at sea during a heavy storm, grew up on that ship. It was his home and family. But fate had more plans for him. One night they were attacked by a pirate - Bran saw the whole crew slaughtered in front of him before being run through with a rapier and tossed overboard. As he drifted in the water he watched the pirates destroy the Scaled Rider with cannonfire before he sank below the water and darkness took him.
Somehow, he woke up on a shore - one that was days away - alive and recovering. He did not know how he survived. Since that day he began to exhibit strange powers. He discovered he was a sorcerer, one with the soul of a storm, and now he travels where he can to obain money, information and to learn about himself. He ultimately seeks to find out what pirate took out his crew and to get vengeance.
--
You may notice a running a theme in these backstories. It's the part of me I play in the characters. Having lost or been abandoned by 3 parents (biological dad, mother, stepdad) I have issues when it comes to parents and find it hard to play a character who has a good family at home but leaves to endanger their lives anyway. So, it's my way of rationalising the characters I make with my own personal mindset considering I have to play these characters, usually, and get in their head.
My Homebrew: Races | Subclasses | Backgrounds | Spells | Magic Items | Feats
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Langley, the "Night Widow"
At 6'4", carrying a dark demeanor and a darker reputation still, Langley, as she is known in the undercurrents of society, is an outcast of harsh reputation. Infamous for her brutal tactics and a lack of regard for the well-being of others -- allies and foes, alike -- she has garnered aliases such as the "Dusk Huntress", the "Scarlet Stalker" and the "Night Widow", to name a few. Woe betide those who find her contracted against them, for their days are most surely numbered.
It was not, however, always this way.
Born to a wealthy trader father in Zakhara, Langley grew up in the lap of luxury with her two older sisters, Ilda and Rae. An avid hunter taught by her father, Langley's skill in archery netted her great admiration in her youth. She and her family lived much of their lives abroad, traveling to far-off exotic locales and hunting various forms of game.
Everything changed when, on the eve of the family's return home for holiday, her father was wrongly accused of heresy against the Grand Caliph by one of his business rivals and arrested. Bearing false evidence to support his testimony, the council found her father guilty of his accusations, and Langley watched her father hauled away to be stoned.
She and her family were stripped of all their wealth and titles, and were forced to take refuge in the wilderness. Not old enough to hold down a job, for a time, Langley supported her family by hunting wild game. About a year later, however, she returned home one evening to find her family brutally slaughtered by wilderness barbarians in a ritual of blood sport.
Enraged by her loss, something in Langley snapped that night, and any care for civility or humanity dissolved within her. Langley took her hunting bow and systematically hunted down the barbarian horde responsible for her family's deaths, massacring them to the last and driving them into extinction.
For this, she claimed her first bounty.
Realizing there was only one thing left for her in her homeland aside from painful memories, Langley took revenge against the conspirators who had seen her father stoned to death by slitting their throats in a night of blood and violence. Gone from her home by daybreak, Langley had packed what little she had and boarded a ship bound for anywhere, seeking out a new life for herself. The ship would eventually take her as far as Lantan, where she would come to purchase her first rifle...
Today, little is known about Langley, aside from the frightening hearsay that swirls about her. In truth, it is not even known if Langley was her original name, or simply one of a number of other aliases she has taken over the course of her life. All she has now is her determination to survive in a cruel, uncaring world, fighting only for herself and her own gain.
Now one of the most feared bounty hunters and outlaws alive in ANY land, having traveled the width and breadth of Toril aboard her airship, the Scarlet's Vengeance, Langley is a cold and calculating hunter, and only coin is deserving of her absolute loyalty. No task is beneath her, so long as the price is right. Those who travel with her, though, should take care to see that she is well-compensated for her time, or they may themselves regret her hire.
Here is the backstory of my Half Dark Elf Warlock Hexblade. Let me know what you guys think!
Kovach's earliest memories are of working in the stifling hot forge operated by Scanlon Stryker, Master Smith. Being bastard born of a tavern maid and a mercenary Drow Elf in the city of Luskan, Kovach's mother did not have many options for her newborn child but to drop him off at the local orphanage. Like most orphans in Luskan that are adopted, not out of love, Kovach was adopted to work in the Iron Ring Forge, owned and operated by Scanlon Stryker. Master Stryker was not considered a kind man, but he was not cruel. He appreciated hard work and Kovach gained his respect at an early age for his work ethic as well as his skill at the forge. Master Stryker took Kovach as his apprentice at an early age and by the age of 18 Kovach became a Master Smith himself. His first master work was a Warhammer that never leaves his side. Like his mentor, Kovach joined the Smith's Guild in Luskan and became a prominent member known for his masterwork weapons which made the Iron Ring Forge a household name. After several years of prosperity and gaining notoriety for his exquisite weapons, Kovach and Master Stryker were working late into the night at the forge, like they have on many other nights. On this night the smith was attacked by what was later found to be soldiers from Ship Kurth sanctioned by the High Capetian for not paying Ship Kurth it's tribute. Master Stryker was murdered and his hands removed and pinned to his chest as a statement to any other shop owner that would fail to pay tribute to Ship Kurth. Kovach was thought dead and left in the forge while the shop was set on fire. He would of burned to death if it was not for a voice that woke him from unconsciousness. The voice was calling his name and it was coming from the store room where his beloved warhammer was kept. Kovach crawled towards the voice which was indeed coming from his hammer. The warhammer was changed. It was a pitch black, darker than anything he had ever seen. It had several glowing amber ruins on the head of the hammer. Images of him picking the weapon up phased in out of his mind. Kovach grasped the warhammer in his hand as the shop started to cave in around him. A voice boomed in his head in undercommon, a language he did not know but seemed to understand. "Good, now break free of this situation before you become like your mentor." A vision of him using the hammer to break through the wall into the street came into his mind. Kovach did as the vision instructed. He was out on the street gasping for air and confused but now safe. The voice started again "You will make an excellent servant as did your father. Leave Luskan for you will be hunted here." While holding the warhammer in his hand Kovach could feel the power he wielded and felt knowledge flowing through it. He knew he could handle this weapon with ease. Not understanding but excited about his new abilities he listened to the voice and left Luskan with the clothes on his back. He has been traveling for years from city to city, town to town, adventuring waiting to hear from the voice again and hoping to learn more information about his father.
Liante'hin Kenlylund, Drow Ranger
Liante'him was born in Ust Natha, the daughter of a minor house. Her family was destroyed early on in her life, when she was no older than 8- a child by elven standards, an infant by elvish ones. The only memories she has of this time are those of her teachings- of the Drow way, and of Lloth. She managed to survive the destruction of her house, and lived as an urchin for a time, hiding from adults as best as possible, knowing that if it was discovered she was still alive, she would be slain, to prevent any claims against the attacking house. She survived mainly by bullying slaves for scraps, which in Drow society is a generally safe way to live as the slaves knew nothing of Drow politics and had every expectation so much as injuring a drow child would result in their immediate demise. As she got a bit older, some of the slaves identified that she always hid when other drow were around, and, feeling emboldened, refused her. She knew immediately the game was up, and it would only be a matter of time before the slaves turned her in for whatever rewards could be gleaned from doing so. She thus fled, into the wilds of the Underdark, hoping to build a new life there, but that wild, dangerous land simply was not one where she could survive for any significant length of time. Always moving, she managed to find her way to the surface through incredible fortune, and has eked out a miserable existence there ever since.
On the surface, her complete lack of knowledge of the common tongue held her back significantly. Drow children in her house were taught Drow first, hand sign second, and common third. She is fluent in Drow (also known as undercommon), and has a rudimentary knowledge of hand sign, but never learned common before the fall of her house. She has picked up the goblin tongue from her time among the slaves, but has never seen them as potential allies. Thus, for the most part, her life has been a solitary one, raw survival alone in the wilderness, with no appreciable social interactions, with only her few prized possessions for comfort. Those are her hand crossbow, a family heirloom and her primary means of self defense, a pet spider, who is usually her sole company, and a statue of Lloth, given to her by her family as a symbol of their house as she made good her escape. The statue of Lloth represents all she knows, and all she has ever known, and she holds the tenents of Lloth to be absolutely true, being a fervent follower of the Spider Goddess. She believes spiders are sacred, and females are inherently superior to male. It also is a reminder to her that she was not always alone.
In addition to being a prized possession, the statue of Lloth is unfortunately cursed as well, and causes those who sleep near it to have fitful nightmares of being hunted by giant spiders in the domain of the Spider Queen. This is something she's blissfully unaware of, as she, being an elf, does not sleep herself. However it does mean that the few times she has approached others, and not been immediately attacked or otherwise driven off, such partnerships have not lasted longer than a single night. Thus mostly she acts much like an animal- hunting what food she can, stealing food when it is convenient, with water, food, and shelter being the whole of her concerns while she continues to endlessly roam the surface, never feeling safe enough to remain somewhere more than a few days. Whether fortunately or unfortunately for her, survival is a skill at which she excels, as is stealth, so there seems little reason anything at all should change in the centuries to come.
The character concept is very similar to Gau from Final Fantasy 6. The idea is she meets up with a party when they eventually notice food is going missing from their packs, if they decide to leave food out for her. Much like a wild animal, she shows less and less caution in taking the food until they approach her. Even then, the lack of knowledge of common is a problem, unless someone knows undercommon or drow hand sign or goblin, but not an insurmountable one. Other problems include the Lloth statue and her complete lack of knowledge of any social custom, such as for example having no idea what money is or why people carry it. She has found these shiny, useless chunks of metal on corpses before, but never once has exchanged it for something nor seen it exchanged for something, so it's been an utter mystery to her. A challenging character to play, and a challenging party member to have, not for the faint of heart or inexperienced out there.
Don't have a decent picture, but I wanted to share my first character that I made on D&D Beyond!
Emelisse Marys is a half-elven ranger. She is 19 and has lived alone since she was 12. When she was young, she lived in a small village, with a childhood sweetheart who gave her jewellery from his father's business. She was kidnapped when she was 4 years of age by members of a Cult of Orcus. There, she met children of all races who had been taken before. She first met Reiner and Theo, human males, half-elven twins Ava and Asher and Nallistri and Kara, two elves. Later, the cult also took Saski, an elf, Jaxon, a halfling and human sisters Safia and Talia. The children were put through absolute hell as the cult performed rituals and sometimes sacrifices on them. The years before they had been captured became a blur as every day they endured living nightmares. The group became incredibly close, and Emelisse felt affection especially for Reiner. The constant torture and rituals turned the entire eye of every child jet black.
When Emelisse was 12, they all decided that they had to escape. They did all manage to get out...except one. Emelisse turned and saw her closest friend being dragged away to the ritual area. As she went to help he shouted "Just run!" as other members helped drag him back. And run she did. She ran and ran and ran in the direction she thought was home. She made it to find her village burned to the ground and her parents lying with their throats butchered. Since that day, she swore her devotion to The Raven Queen. As she left her once home, she found a wooden box with the words I'll find you E.... the rest had been scratched out. Inside was a single silver teardrop earring. She felt a strong connection to it and has worn it ever since.She has travelled through many a town and city, searching for a new place to call home. She has looked for any old friends bit has been unsuccessful. Every so often though, she feels like she sees a familiar face.
I love that story!!! So imaginative and just amazing! As a DM I would love a character like that to play with and it sounds like your gonna have great fun playing her too! I wonder what your DM will do with a story like that...
Commander, this letter was found in the bedroom of Initiate Gerald Watts. Said Initiate has left us and is presumably heading towards Ravenloft.
I grew up in a small village in the far north. Life was simple, life was small. We raised crops, raised children, tended our homes and neighbors. The winters were long and dark, but we had the light of our hearths and hearts to keep us warm. I raised a strong daughter, Illya and she became a strong mother to her own little one, Tonya. After my dear wife, Alison, died of the fever, these two wonderful ladies kept me sane and brought love into my life again.
I was in my 56th year when the disappearances began. Winter had fallen and darkness enveloped our lands for most of the hours of the day. To keep spirits up, we had regular town hall meetings with small festivities and games to give the children a chance to play and the adults the opportunity to swap stories. In a town that close knit, nobody can be missing for long before someone noticed. As several weeks went by and fewer faces showed up to the town hall, we went to their houses to check on them. There was nothing, not a trace. It was like they had vanished. The darkness seemed closer now, the nights colder. Fear was in our eyes and we all held our children a little tighter. Never tight enough.
The screams woke me. I ran to the window and the Miller’s store was in flames across the way. I told Illya to stay put and keep an eye on Tonya while I went to help with the fire. I didn’t tell her I loved before I went. I regret it to this day.
Outside was as though I had stepped into the Nine Hells. The townspeople ran, terrified and were being stalked by…things. Deathly pale skin, long, sharp fingernails like talons and the teeth… I saw one of them tear out the throat of Tonya’s schoolfriend, we had attended her birthday not three days before. Her dark blood on the ribbons still in her hair…I can’t…
No, shut up old man. Shut up there’s no time for that now. Just get this done, damn you. I ran back inside and grabbed Illyna and Tonya and we ran for the dog sleds. They had already been ripped apart and one of the things was there. It was a young girl, couldn’t have been more than 15 but her eyes glowed red and I thought our ends had come. I wish they had. I’d give anything for that to have been the end.
I told Illyna to run while I held off this monster. Illyna broke away and I tried my best but I’m just a stupid old man.
The thing that was once someone’s baby girl knocked me aside like I was a child. As the darkness took me I heard Illyna and Tonya began to scream.
I woke up in a large basement that stank of blood and piss and fear. I was surrounded by the beasts, there was no escape. They shoved Caleb, the Miller’s son, into the ring with me. He was changed, they had turned him into one of them somehow. His fangs glistened in the torchlight as he came for me. Blood thundered in my ears, he was always a strong boy, but the change hadn’t given him their unholy strength, it was still too new. I had no choice. If I could destroy one of them, I would do it, even if it looked like Caleb. If I ever wanted to see Illyna again, I had to. I had to beat his head against the stone floor. I had to remember teaching him to ride a horse for the first time while I did it. I had to remember his family’s pride in him while I watched the final, infernal red light in his eyes fade.
“Now, this one. See if she’s strong. We’ll keep her if she’s strong.” The guttural voice behind me brought me back to myself. I looked up. Long blonde hair glowed, a small, slim frame stood before. Her dress was torn, I told myself I hadn’t watched her mother make that dress. Alison would have been so sad to see it that way. The red glow in Illyna’s eyes told me she didn’t remember her mother anymore.
“Not this. No…Illyna…please honey…where’s Tonya? We need to get Tonya and go. I can’t do this. Please baby, I love you so much. Don’t do this. Where’s Tonya, honey?”
The thing that had been Illyna licked her lips. Her face was covered in gore.
After that I don’t remember much. Pure, animal hatred took me. I remember the sound of a monstrous, inhuman roar and knowing that that was the sound of a piece of me dying, my screams as I fought and killed my daughter. The cheers from those beasts in the darkness, urging on our struggle, they didn’t care who won, they only wanted blood. Afterwards, I was locked in a small cell and I only knew blackness. I don’t know how much time passed. I was not of this world anymore. I never will be again.
Eventually the Knights of the Iron Sun came and freed the town, not that there was much left, of it or me. I joined them, swearing that I would destroy those monsters, those vampires, once and for all. Now I’ve learned that they have a leader. This plague has a source. It lives in a place I’ve never been, a place called Ravenloft. Its name is Strahd.
Resonance - Kenku Monk
Quick note, I have essentially just started DND for the first time so my understanding of Kenku lore is limited to Volo's Guide to Monsters. I have read that most Kenku are brown feathered and bear variant eye colors over the years, but mine is a black feathered Kenku with purple eyes. I have asked about the forum on various matters and discovered (from most answers I've recieved) that it's all up to the Player and the DM. Anything goes so long as it doesn't violently break the Weave (or unless you are using a Homebrew Campaign). So any criticism, suggestions, etc is very appreciated! Also, I always attempt to write my tales in ways that readers unfamiliar to a setting would learn and understand as the story progresses. Some of this information displayed may feel redundant to those associated DND. Also I typed this all in one go. I am very tired, and I want to sleep now.
Part One: Darkening Skies
Magic. It takes many forms. Some wield it by drawing power from the Weave, some see it in all of life as miracles or luck, yet others see it as a single moment of captivating wonder. As the ever expanding Weaves bend and flow around a world of immeasurable chance, we all eventually hear her strumming; her enticing serenade. As you stretch out your hand to court this figure of beauty, you discover something that is simple and complex beyond all imagining: that the magic of life isn't meant to be spent cheaply, but to be devoted wholly. The question is... what will you devote your being towards?
As Resonance gazed at the setting sun beyond horizon, he took a moment to admire the varying hues of light as it slowly gave way to a more subtle light; a more beautiful light. As the display stretched before him, he began to intone a deep, resonating hum. Stars began to manifest within the darkened firmament, softly twinkling like a scattering of gems. As Resonance's mind began crafting his feelings into a poem of artistry, he felt the curse of impotence seize it from his being. Opening his crow-like beak, he intoned a sigh. Not his own sigh of course, but a mimicry of a frustrated girl he had witnessed just five days prior. Other races just couldn't understand the plight of the Kenku, though that was implying that they themselves could truly understand it.
Shaking his feathered head, Resonance turned away from the dazzling display and continued his trek through a wooded thicket towards his Flock's roost. At 19, Resonance was one of the older members of this Flock. Most Kenku, he'd discovered, tended to allow their attentions to waver frequently. Most younger Kenku never really considered returning to the Flock, though some did remain and devote themselves to their Alpha's teaching... well, "teaching". From what he had gathered, the Alpha had once been a thief who overheard a bard's song in a tavern. The song had been about the fall of the Kenku and about a lone Kenku who had abandoned his thieving ways to pursue restoration by way of the Kenku gods. Much excitement and traveling later, the Kenku had finally received recognition from the gods and had his wings, creativity, and voice restored to his being.
At the corners of where his beak met face, Resonance curled the flesh there into a slight smirk. A tale developed by a traveling minstrel to cheat coin off drunkards had somehow managed to bewitch the Alpha into forming a Flock and to spread that song in the hopes that the next generations would take it to heart. What foolishness.
You did take it to heart though, didn't you? The thought came to his mind unbidden, but it was not inaccurate. Not entirely. Resonance paused as he glanced about, purple eyes surveying the foliage. It had taken six years for him to learn that his look was not typical of Kenku and to learn why most of the others had shunned him. As he glanced about, Resonance went on alert at the sound of... nothing. No wind, no chirping of insects, nothing. Withdrawing a small dagger, Resonance silently dashed through the tapestries of leaves and branches in search for the cause of the silence. Opening his beak, Resonance attempted to mimic the cawing of a crow only to find that no sound escaped his being. Ordinarily, the call of a crow would be met with the sound of a thunderclap to say the area is clear or with the call of another crow to indicate danger. If all sound was silenced though... Magic.
Stopping in his tracks, Resonance considered his next action. He could run. Likely whatever creature had cast the spell was unaware of him, but the Alpha would be in the center of all of this. As Resonance simulated options, thoughts assaulted his mind.
You should have left long ago. Resonance ignored the thought as he progressed. Is it worth dying for the ideals of another? Do you really believe in her nonsense? As he crept through the thicket, the intermingling scents of blood and smoke assaulted his senses along side the faint echoing of clanging metal. Hastening his pace, Resonance ran to the Flock's Roost only to bear witness to a flaming forest and dark humanoid figures. Attempting to get a better look, Resonance ventured forward and noted figures wearing blood red uniforms. As Resonance attempted to wander closer, he stiffened as a burning pain seared through his chest.
"And another one down." Resonance heard the smugness in her voice as a woman materialized out of the shadows and withdrew her blade from his chest. He crumpled into a bloody heap as his vision faded to black. The last sounds he heard from that night were of the woman kneeling down to his ear as she whispered, "It's nothing personal, you realize. Just... business."
Part Two: Aftermath
As Resonance roused himself to consciousness, he winced in pain. Looking down, he noted the presence of fresh bandages over his feathered chest and a pair of humble, baggy pants. Gazing about, Resonance found himself lying on a mat upon a stone floor. The room possessed a vaulted ceiling and detailed paintings of various races surrounded by some kind of glow. The detailed images were juxtaposed to the humble setting of it all. Save for the images, the rest of the room was comprised of mundane hues of brown and grey. Resonance hummed as he considered the chamber.
"Ah, your awake!" Startled, Resonance sprung out of his nest, ignoring the pain, to gaze at the speaker. "Whoa whoa! Don't move so much, feathered one!" The speaker, an old human wearing orange vestments, waved his hands in the air as if putting a horse at ease. "You were lucky, my boy?" The monk betrayed a questioning tone when he said "boy". Genders among the Kenku were often indeterminable to common folk, though some of the more animalistic races could determine that by instinct. After a long moment of silence, Resonance slowly nodded to the monk's unspoken question. It seemed to put the human at ease.
Resonance cocked his head curiously at the monk as he opened his beak. "Feathered one! One. Lucky?" Resonance mimicked the man's words pitch perfect, though he carried over the monk's questioning tone of "boy" to "Lucky". The monk nodded his head sadly towards Resonance.
"That morning," the monk began, "my brothers and I ventured down to your village. As we tended to do of late." Resonance nodded. He'd heard of a strange group of poorly dressed individuals wandering the Roost. Resonance first thought they may have been thieves looking for loot, but the Alpha had a glimmer of mirth in her eyes upon seeing his suspicion. The Alpha. Resonance's gaze widened as he observed the monk closely, though the man raised his hands in a placating manner. "Calm down, Feathered one. Let me finish." The man settled himself down, crossing his legs. "Now. We ventured down to your village, but when we caught the scent of smoke, we rushed to see what became of you all." The man diverted his gaze from Resonance as he continued. "You were the only survivor, I'm afraid."
"Only survivor." Resonance mimicked this, but in a hushed tone. "Only..." Resonance went silent as he stared at the monk, who sat on the stone floor before him. Shaking himself, as if to awake from a dream, he glanced about and settled on a stone archway leading out into a hallway. He ran towards it, intending to rush to his Roost, his Flock. As Resonance sprinted at the door, he heard the monk cry out in surprise. Bolting through the stone corridor, Resonance burst out of the far end startling two figures wearing similar robes as the other monk. Ignoring the two, Resonance spotted a large oaken door and rammed it with all his strength only to bounce off the wooden surface. As he picked himself up and tried again and again, a palm gently rested upon his back. As he felt it, a wave of calm flooded into him.
"We didn't fix you up, just for you to break yourself again, Feathered one." As Resonance turned to the speaker, he saw a large half-elf withdraw his hand. Resonance couldn't help but gawk at a 7' tall, burly half-elf standing behind him. "Understand," the monk said, "that we are trying to help you. I am brother Isshar. Pleased to meet you." Resonance closed his beak, gulped, and nodded at the smiling Isshar. As Resonance considered him, he noted the first monk pop out of the corridor with a look of confusion on his face. Isshar turned to the newcomer with a raised eyebrow. "Brother Aldrin, I do believe that this one was in your care. Am I correct?"
Aldrin sheepishly walked up, and glanced at Resonance. "I apologize, Brother Isshar. I explained the conditions of our finding him and he, um, well..." Isshar sighed, though he still had a wide smile on his face. Resonance cocked his head as he recorded that sigh for later. Much better that the girl's. More emotion. He was still under Isshar's calming effects. As Resonance reached at the spot where Isshar had touched him, the monks turned to gaze at him.
"What I did," Isshar began, "involved the transfer of Ki, Feathered one." Resonance curiously glanced back at the man. "Ki," he continued, "is a form of magic that flows through living beings. All possess it, but few are able to command it." Taking a step back Isshar stretched out his arms and slammed two fists together, startling Resonance. As Isshar did that, his upper vestments shredded away to reveal bulging muscles and a glowing aura about his form.
Resonance narrowed his gaze in interest and began humming as he intoned, "Ki..." As Resonance hummed, he felt the monk's Ki fade away from his being and concern return to his being. Shaking his head, Resonance glanced back at the oak door. "Village feathered. I help." Resonance returned his gaze to the three monks, who glanced away from him. Resonance brought his claws up together as if praying, and shook them pleadingly at the monks. After a moment, the unnamed monk sighed slightly, drawing Resonance's attention. The Dragonborn monk spoke up in a feminine voice.
"I will open the door for you, but this will be hard for you. Can you bear it?" Resonance gazes at her for a moment, noting the metallic brass scales. Taking a deep breath, Resonance nodded to her. Striding forward past Resonance, she raised a palm and forced open the door to reveal a wide landscape of forests encircled by mountains. One patch of green is blotched with the dead hues of black and grey. The female monk speaks up as she notices the look in his eyes. "We did all we could for your home. I'm sorry." Slowly, Resonance wandered back into the structure, which was apparently carved into the mountain, and remained silent for the time.
Part Three: Decision
As the days passed, Resonance kept himself busy. Silently, he whittled a piece of wood with a knife given to him by Aldrin. With his curse, he could copy any voice or writing presented to him. This ability apparently transferred to wood carving as well. Unfortunately, as he allowed his mind to wander, it seemed that even subconscious creativity was devoured by his curse. What did you expect? Why did you even care? All there will be for you is pain. Frustrated Resonance flung the piece of wood across the room and almost hit the female monk. The one who was called Elder Vserna. Vserna raised an eyebrow at him, as Resonance sheepishly wandered to the projectile and collected it. Vserna sighed as she set down a tray of bread, water, and meat on a table. She turned to regard Resonance who had reseated himself as he continued whittling.
"Come with me, Feathered one." As she said this, the sound of steel on wood ceased for a moment. It promptly continued a moment later. With a look of annoyance, she strode up and roughly grasped Resonance by the beak, causing him to look her in the eyes. "If you are to remain a guest," she said, "then you had best listen when a woman tells you to do something." As she released him, Resonance rubbed his beak for a moment then nodded. As the two wandered the tunnels, they eventually arrived at a large, dimly lit circular room. The other monks appeared to be resting upon the stone floor, eyes closed and above... Above lay a sight that made Resonance, despite himself, mimic a gasp of awe. The chamber's ceiling bore a myriad of small, sparkling lights.
How long had it been since I've seen that sight. Resonance continued to gaze in wonder, as Vserna seated herself in a similar position of meditation. She turned to him, one eye open.
"Join us in meditation for a time will you?" She closed her eyes entirely as she continued. "Allow yourself to be taken up by the flow of the Weave." Resonance stood there motionless. As he gazed at all the monks, he considered leaving for a moment. He almost did, until he looked back down at Vserna and rubbed his beak again. As he seated himself, he copied their postures and closed his eyes. As he did, he heard Vserna speak to him softly. "Breathe, Feathered one. Slowly, deliberately. Focus on each puff of life you take." Resonance attempted to do so, but felt nothing superficial, deep, or mystical. It was oddly comforting though. "What we seek," Vserna whispered, "is to achieve our perfect selves through training and meditation."
As Vserna said this, Resonance was exposed to a flash of memory. A memory of the tale a bard spun to amuse drunken fools and a memory of the Alpha. Perfect self. There is no such thing. All lies. Resonance began to release a deep, resonating hum as he contemplated these memories. As he meditated on his past life with the Flock, he wondered about why the Alpha sought to believe such a fanciful tale. Was it to keep a family close or did she really believe that our best option as a race would be to seek redemption? As he pondered these questions, he wondered. What was the best option for the Kenku? Not for him, but the Kenku as a whole. Eventually Resonance opened his eyes to see an empty room, save for Vserna beside him. As he mimicked a sigh, Resonance moved to stand.
"I've though of what to call you, Feathered one." Resonance made a curious sidelong glance at Vserna who's eyes were still shut. "Considering that you've maintained that humming for over an hour, I think Resonance suits you." He cocked his head considering. The few times he had ventured in cities, common-folk had called him that as well.
"Resonance." He intoned the name, which brought a smile to Vserna's face.
She opened her eyes as she stood and looked at him. "Resonance it is then. Brother." She smiled as she rubbed his head affectionately and walked away. Leaving a confused Kenku.
"Dragonborn..." Resonance intoned. As he walked away to the resting chambers. He was much more tired than he had expected. Upon reaching his mat, he blacked out. Upon waking, Resonance discovered an empty room. Stumbling about, he uncovered a bundle of monks clothing with a purple crystal necklace lying upon the bundle. As Resonance plucked the necklace and twirled it in his fingers, his fingers brushed a thin cut in the gem. Frowning he turned that part up to view what the markings were. On the back of the crystal, the name RESONANCE has been carved. As he glanced between the necklace and then the clothing, Resonance felt something that he'd felt lost. Kinship for a family... for a Flock.
As Resonance continued to learn in the monastery, he eventually read a scroll detailing ancient ruins and magical artifacts. As he read, he came to believe that he had discovered an ancient temple that might bear the secret to the Kenku history. After much deliberation, Resonance thought to seize the chance to continue his original Flock's legacy of restoring the Kenku. With much sorrow, Resonance bid his new Flock farewell and set out into the world.
Compact Summary
Resonance was once a member of a Kenku Flock dedicated to restoring their gods' trust in them. Members of this Flock oft journeyed for such methods, only to return after a month or two. Resonance was one such Kenku. As he was returning from his journey, Resonance was met with the intermingling scent of blood and smoke along with sounds of clanging metal. Rushing to the scene, Resonance noted a group of soldiers wearing blood red uniforms. Witnessing the carnage, Resonance did not notice as a Ranger slipped behind him and ran him through with a blade. Upon waking, Resonance discovered that he had been nursed back to health by monks whom he attempted to run from at first. Eventually they placated him and found a new member to their community. Resonance meditated with the monks until he read of ancient ruins and lost magics, triggering the memory of his original Flock's goals. With much sorrow, Resonance bade his new Flock farewell as he sought to continue his Flock's legacy: the restoration of the Kenku.
And now I sleep after... 2 hours. GOODNIGHT!
The Pen or the Sword... Let Us See Which is the Sharper of the Two!
Don't have every detail yet but I immediately fell in love with the Mastermind the moment I read it. This is a backup character I have for any of the games I'm currently playing in, and am very happy with how he's come along, as I've managed to keep the essence of the dark backstory while keeping the Rogue aspect ultimately edge-free. Liam is a team-player, socialite and jokester on a mission to find his way in life.
Liam Cohan - Mastermind Rogue
Liam grew up in the circus after being abandoned on the wild roads between cities. The circus was called Le Cirque Enchevetre, and had as many oddities as a piano has keys, from a very early age, and with quite a lot of practice, Liam was taught how to mimic those around him, and how to throw his voice. He started out as a puppeteer, controlling and holding conversations with many of the makeshift characters the circus was accompanied by, his favourite was a blue and green orc named Gorgosh who was allowed to say some of the ruder jokes that Liam appreciated in his youth.
With more practice, Liam learned now just how to mimic voices, but also objects, such as rushing water, a sword being swung, an arrow being fired, he was a natural. In his spare time he practiced as a knife thrower, learning how to wield daggers, knowing exactly when to miss. When he was 16 he had done many acts involving both daggers and voices, and was approached by crooks in a particular city of bad reputation and asked if he would like to do a job for them, Liam was interested and asked further. They told him that if he managed to pretend to be a soldier of the city to break into a city officials home and kill him without anyone noticing, they would pay him thousands. He knew that his circus had fallen on some hard times, and wanted to get everyone to smile again, so he took it.
During his stay, he impersonated a soldier he had met earlier to persuade a carer of the home to allow him in, once the help was dispatched, he sneaked into the upper levels to find the man, sitting at his desk, writing. With some great hesitation, Liam took the blade and stabbed the man in the head, hoping to allow him a quick death, and while successful, he himself was covered in it. After receiving his pay, a weeping and near catatonic Liam made his way back to the campsite to try and wash the blood from his clothes before anyone caught him, during his panic the leader of the circus, Ezpie, a fire breathing elf and showwoman found him. Remaining supportive and comforting, Ezpie helped Liam wash his clothes and let him know that while he tried to do the right thing for some, purposely did not think about the consequences of his actions, and asked him to think more. Ezpie helped Liam through the harder times after this, helping him through his nightmares, aiding him in doing random acts of kindness for those they performed for, and helping him move on, while no one else at the circus knew about his actions.
Then everything went to hell two years later.
While Liam was out doing shopping for his friends and coworkers in a new and exciting village, he heard screams from townsfolk, and saw a large pillar of smoke a ways off. Bolting to the scene, Liam's heart broke as he saw his home burnt down, the main tent as well as the surrounding private tents were in ruin, the grass blackened and charred, while bodies lay everywhere. Liam didn't hesitate as he ran into the private tent areas, searching for anyone still alive, ignoring the flames that lapped at his body, he still has many of these burns to this day. In the main tent he found Ezpie, cradling the body of a dead Delphie, the youngest member of the circus, a singer and animal whisper, only 13 years old.
As Ezpie could not protest due to her burned vocal chords, Liam dragged her and Delphie's body from the wreckage as it continued collapsing around them, laying them on the grass as they escaped the blaze. Liam did not know how to help Ezpie, and called for aid as he asked what happened, Ezpie told him that 2 years ago, she tipped off the city guard to the 2 men that hired Liam as the circus was leaving the city. In fact she had remembered their faces as she had spotted them approaching him, hoping they would not have to remember them again, she didn't tell Liam and kept it to herself in order to let him focus on inner healing. But, those 2 men had friends, and they had been searching for Liam for the entire time, and it seemed like they had finally caught up with them.
Ezpie died in Liam's arms, and with no home, no friends and no family. Liam left on a mission of soul searching, and pondering the idea of revenge.
With his natural abilities of ventriloquism, mimicry and voice throwing, Liam easily found his way into performance acts as well as odd bounty jobs on the side. Rescue the old priest here, chase off the goblins there, which eventually led Liam into an adventuring-esque lifestyle, as he attempts to put his past behind him and do well for those that need well to come to them. Though he avoids the darker sides of cities, as he does not know what he would do if he were to run into those that killed his previous family.
And now, at 24, we start our story...
"Roll for kink."
My homebrews - Naturalcrit
Here is my ranger/druid multiclass female wood elf...
Syviis Krislee was born is a town of Darvvunna, and immediately after the birth if her twin sister, Solana, her parents divorced, taking one child each. Syviis (SI-VEES) was stuck with her mom. They lived in the slums of Darvunna, while the dad took all their money and Solana and left. Syviis was always a nature child, hanging in trees, playing with wild animals, though she didn't focus much on her studies. She was attractive to most boys, hanging around other men. The few that didn't like her bullied her. The bullies were either stopped by the crowd of boys that wanted her good graces, or herself. She was a skilled fighter, beating other men in strength contests. When she was 23, she had won small fame as the strongest woman in her district. Only few boys that found her attractive ever had a chance. She was getting a love life when disaster struck.
When Syciis was around 34, her mother was mugged, raped, and murdered. In a haze, Syviis ran away from home. She ran out of the city. Her nature skills helped her live in the surrounding land. She found a pack of wolves, and was, in fact, raised by wolves. Her favorite wild shape is the wolf, and her beast master archetype is a wolf. I'm sorry this isn't much, but I ran out of time. All the stories that I read were amazing. If you have any questions about Syviis Krislee, message me.
I love roleplaying, message me so we can set something up.
I talk everything D&D, message me for questions, chat, arguements, or roleplay!
Lokai the Human Bard.
"Oh, great," you may be thinking. "A chance for a narcissistic player to ramble like a self-absorbed dandy throughout the campaign." It wasn't my fault!
I was grateful to be invited at the last minute to an ambitious circle of players. When I arrived at the campaign's first session, I told everybody that I would gladly play a healer if they needed one. The group said, "We have enough healing. Even though you are willing to play a Life Cleric, maybe you could be a bard instead?" 5 minutes later, Lokai was generated (thanks to some strong updates to DnD Beyond). His tragic story follows. [Oh, and please respect the names of his former bands as the intellectual properties of the vested parties.]
Lokai learned from an early age that talent and performance would serve him better than a dedication to academics or farming ever would. One night, a fortuitous jam session introduced Lokai to a troubadour gnome named Otto (full stage name, "Otto Tunes"), who showed Lokai how some special people could unlock a hidden power inside of music and oration. Otto taught Lokai how to play the bagpipes to such effect, and Lokai loved it. Lokai began to join passing troupes and bands to share his gifts. He played with a few groups, like:
And then he met his nemesis, a wily old charlatan who called himself "Uncle Jasper."
Uncle Jasper's "Wholesome Fun Times Ensemble" was getting great reviews in the local tavern circuit, and Lokai was flattered by Jasper's welcome. Jasper even convinced a still-naive Lokai that performing the bagpipes while wearing a bear-suit would make a dynamite novelty act in Jasper's ensemble. Lokai charmed crowds, but eventually began to resent being stuck in the bear suit and letting Uncle Jasper keep Lokai's talent suppressed through anonymity. One fateful night, Lokai performed as normal to an appreciative crowd... but then broke character and removed the bear costume mask to let his face be seen. The crowd loved it, but an upstaged Jasper quickly plotted his revenge for this betrayal.
Jasper pretended to appreciate Lokai's decision, and threw Lokai a huge party at the Dragon's Head in Greenvale to celebrate. Then, before paying the tab, Jasper left town with the rest of the band and stuck Lokai with a huge debt. Lokai tried to repay what he could, but Bartender Bill was furious. Being abandoned and framed by his band has put Lokai in an uncomfortable position. His professional reputation was shattered, and Lokai hit a string of misfortune. Instead of being welcomed in towns, he tends to accumulate suspicion, unearned blame, and mistrust. Worse, he ended up in Greenvale again when bad weather forced Lokai to seek shelter there. If he is discovered, he may be forced - at swordpoint - to clear himself of a crime he didn't commit!
He still plays the lute, but he can't look down at his unplayed bagpipes without fighting a bittersweet swirl of emotions. However, maybe, perhaps, one day, someday, those same emotions will become a source of potency for his art.
If his backpack honks when he walks amongst a party of adventurers, don't ask him about it until he offers to explain...
My character is a bit of a long winded one and i would appreciate a bit of leeway on any spelling or grammar errors that happen to come up. He is a Half water Genasi Monk with a Sailor background from a Floating city called Al' Amwaj. I can't decide between 4 elements and Trident Kensei for him yet.
Dagne Sutomu was always meant for the sea. Born on the Floating city of Al' Amwaj, he was raised to be nothing more than a Son of the Father of Storms. A sailor by the age of 12 and a ships captain by 17, Dagne was always good and true to the words of his God. Then, around his 27th year, he was attacked by one of the roving wereshark clans that inhabited the seas he called home. He was beached and bitten, not knowing if he could survive. His ship was wrecked on shoal waters and his crew, with the exception of his first mate who betrayed him to the clans in the first place, left him for dead in the middle of the water on a full moon night. For the next two months, Dagne goes full shark and doesn't remember a thing.
the next thing he known, he crawls up on land after being delirious and finds himself back in civilization. everyone he knows, thinks he's dead. He re-establishes his life and starts building a new ship. then the nightmares happen, with images of eating people and crew members alive.