Our family hovel was inside of the trunk of a handsome hardwood tree, fashioned such that it did not harm the tree itself. Several rooms were connected by trapdoors and ladders. Narrow earthen tunnels linked this and fellow tree dwellings to a communal underground chamber.
Lacking siblings, or indeed anyone else of my own age, I played with the elderfolk, polishing pretty stones for them and pretending they were emeralds. They taught me how to fashion the stones into jewellery and to play the simple wooden flute carved for me by Grandpapa.
We subsisted by gathering fruits, berries, nuts (which I shared with the squirrels) and the occasional fish from a nearby brook. I grew particularly adept with a fishing spear, and at swinging fearlessly through the treetop canopy.
Then the Blight befell our tiny hamlet. Our tree-homes became riddled with lesions, the branches withered, the leaves and tubers blackened in death. Swarms of parasites infested the burrow beneath. It was surely the work of Urdlen, a punishment brought by gnomes who had dug too deep and coveted too much.
The elderfolk would sooner join their kin in Segojan Earthcaller's domain than leave their lifelong home. However, my ailing parents bade me follow the path proscribed by Baervan Wildwander: “The Great Forests of the Outdoors await those daring enough to venture forth from their burrows. Wander the great woodlands in search of excitement and sylvan sites of incredible beauty. Defend and protect the creatures of the forest and the woodlands in which they reside. Be ever curious, and follow life wherever it may lead.”
Thus I set forth, alone, without any particular direction, and burdened only with the promise never to look back.
Subsequent training:
I was trained in the martial arts by a group of clerics and paladins of the Order of the Gauntlet, whom I helped to escape captivity and to hide when some of their number were injured.
Since I could wield neither knightly weapons nor shield effectively, they instead taught me how to use an enemy's brute against him; to deliver fearsome strikes with a weapon so humble as my spear; and to deliver a well-placed blow from underneath a larger foe with just my feet, elbows, fists and - though I hate to admit it - teeth.
My attempt at creating a Necromancer using medicine to get closer to his adoration of Death. It's pretty short -.- Feedback is welcome!
At first, the blood startled him. It took a few years for him to get used to it. Each operation he would watch or participate through made him sick to his stomach. Eventually he grew colder to it. Soon he started performing operations strictly on his own. When no one was watching, in that grisly room he became enamored with it. He kept his admiration hidden. No one would understand.
This new feeling gave rise to an even greater desire: Control. He wanted to experiment with it. He searched for hidden scripts and scrolls that allowed some control. Too quickly he mastered the foundation of this occult. Too quickly he suffered the consequences. In one of the many tomes he acquired, a strong magic sat seducing him. For a short time he was able to bring something back, past the end, past the it, but the repercussions were dire. He lost it. The magic turned on him and in desperation, he fled but not without cost. As he kicks open the door to an empty shack, clutching his face, cursing the nine hells, hopelessly looking for the other half of his vision, he sat bleeding. Slumped opposite the broken door, grasping at his blindness, he could make out the screeching of his mortal mistake. The control was too much of a liability for his adolescent studies. He need to understand it in a different way.
So he began to travel once more. He started his practice up again. Along the path he would watch closely, this time hoping to gain more insight. He knew what could be done, he knew it was controllable, he just had to learn what makes it tick.
First rough draft for my Aasimar Paladin Caius Ellios. Trying to work in backround reasons for his high charisma, strength and constitution. As well as good ties to his flaws, bonds, etc.
I am from a small town under a small monarchy in the east. My mother, Alice Ellios, was ostrascized for being with child before marriage and no man would have her. None would believe that she had been visited by an Angel who had left her with me. She was driven to the only profession left to any women that is viewed as she was and thus I was raised in a brothel, around all the vices of man. Despite this my mother was able to afford an education for me from the small abbey to Lathander. For this, I will be eternally grateful to my mother for this was unknowingly the first step along the rightous path I was destined to walk. At 17, before I had discovered the path, I was beholden to all the earthly vices. Being raised in the place that I was, it was very easy to woo women, or talk to any one really, especially after a few cups. One night a beautiful young lady walked into the tavern I frequented most nights and I immedeately set my sights on her. Cup by cup and word by word I fell more and more in love with her. She was very shy at first, and slow in opening up to me, but by the end of the night we were in each others arms all the same. She was not my first, but I knew no other woman would ever compare. I determined to ask her to marry me in the morning when our heads were clear, but I awoke with a sword to my face and a room full of royal guards. That was the moment that I learned the truth of my mother's claims, radiant energy burst from my eyes and mouth, I felt it consuming me, but it blinded the guards and I was able to make my escape. I barely made it to my mother's establishment where I was hidden away before passing out. That was when I had my first visit from Valandras, the vision showed me how disappointed he was with my current life path, I was falling away from my ordained path, my purpose, and into the clutches of the vices of the mortal world. The pain of my celestial power awakening would always be there, anytime I called upon it, as a punishment for falling from my path, and a reminder that I would only be set right once. Valandras would not tolerate any further time wasted upon earthly distractions. He sent me images of great destruction and pain, and set me upon my rightous path, to guard the world from this fate, and heal the world where this was already happening. I awoke from my visions to find my mother packing a travel bag for me in the cramped, hidden room. The King was furious that I, a lowly commoner, had deflowered his daughter and was declaring it ****. There was a price of 1000 gold pieces to whomever brings me to him alive to face his justice. My mother and I said our goodbyes and she handed me a sword, the first time I had ever held one, and that night I disappeared from town. For ten years now I have wandered from town to town, village to village, farm to farm, following the visions granted me by Valandras, going where he sent me. Sometimes it was to join a militia to help defend a small village from goblin raiders, sometimes it was as simple as healing a small child in a remote farmstead. Along the way though I have walked the path of Lathander as related to me by Valandras' visions. I have learned to wield and care for the sword my mother gave me, my arms have grown strong and my endurance has grown as I have walked many miles, and faced many dangers, but through it all I have made many friends, that has always been easy for me. King Garek's men have always hunted me so I have never been able to settle down or stay in one place for long. Now I find myself here, where my visions have led me, visions that tell me everything I have faced this far was merely to prepare me for what is to come.
We are a group of nerdy friends that have played different games throughout our entire lives that have now branched off to pursue our different trades in the real life but as it came to be we started to play D&D together and we started out with some small adventures to train the games mechanics and rules but now we have come to the beginning of our first big campaign so we had a deadline today to create our characters.
So with this said i am fresh off the boat in the D&D world and community but as i got a genuine interest in open world RPGs i came to love D&D aswell, so ill present to you my Mercenary born Elf. keep in mind that i tried to mix real world events, groups and tried staying true to dates and the history overall, but i can have mixed some things that necessarily doesnt mix well together or not at all but try to not lynch me for my wrong doings.
Immensive and immersive is the style i like to go, i know i lack some commas in the text but i have concentrated at creating a good backstory and gave less thought to exact grammar and punctuation, the backstory is told through my characters journal that he keeps on him at all time.
-Irasil, The son of Rathal Cranan and Ilyrana Cranan-
"The thundering footsteps of a legion marching and the rumbling sounds of the caravans rounded wheels hitting stones and patches of hardened mud is the first thing i remember coming into this world."
"Life went on as life goes on as a young elf sprout running around in the camps playing with the different soldiers wooden shields and their varying sorts of arms."
"shortly after my fifteenth full nature cycle Rathal, my father made me a wooden bow and gave me two short swords that seemed like swords for my size at the time, both swords and the bow had elven inscriptions, the swords saying "Gûd daedheloth" meaning "Foe of the great-fear" in common and etched into the bow filled with golden metal saying "Aith heleg nín i orch gostatha; Nin cíniel na nguruthos Hon ess nín istatha: Irasil" meaning "The darkness will fear my quiver and bow; When he sees me, in fear of death he will know my name: Irasil" in common."
"After giving me the swords and bow Rathal spoke to me in a unusually low tone saying "Son, today your journey to adulthood begins, we live a hard but well earned life together with the Mindulgulph company and you will start training with them to hone your elven ancestry, me and Ilyrana will teach you together with the company how to live as one with nature and death"
"The passing fiftheen year until my thirtieth nature cycle i trained, lived, followed on missions, studied my ancestry and deep history of the elven kingdoms and passed conflicts, i took part in the study of the Underdark in the Eastern Shaar and learned the ways of the elven hunters together with Rathal."
"Following a conversation between Gayrlana, Rathal and Ilyrana we parted ways with the Mindulgulph company in good terms to travel the lands to join The Agency mercenaries in Evereska to pursue a deeper knowledge about the natural world and pay honor to Solonor Thelandirat through the hund for dark monsters"
"Time´s hourglass turned and we get from 1368dr to around 1405dr, after roaming many full cycles out in the wild landscape of Faerûn doing mercenary jobs, hunting dark creatures and getting deeper and deeper into the Western Heartlands we set camp in the outskirts of Baldur´s Gate"
"Before the nightfall Rathal sat down next to me by the fire and started talking in a tone i only faintly recognised him using only once before, "Irasil, before leaving Rucien-xan me and Ilyrana took an oath to infiltrate the material plane to pursue and hunt down all threats to the Rucien-xan empire and nature itself, this pledge will pass on to you when you reach adulthood, your own journey will begin with a pilgrimage back to the Rucien-Xan to pledge your oath to the royal family, but just remember son, this is an oath that we will die to uphold and keep secret to any other race". "With a understanding but worrying face i only replied, "i understand father" and sharpened my eyes at the inscriptions on my shortswords and bow and began to understand why my family of three elves chose a solitary life away from the other elven races and towns we have passed during the seasons passed"
"during the cover of night our camp was attacked by a small pack of the Blacktalons mercenaries, everything went from a serene full moon night to a full out skirmish between the two companies, during the fighting me and Ilyrana backed off to the outer tents and see Zadicus Trevils the Agencys bladesinger ambushing Rathal striking a mortal wound to his chest, it was clear for The Agency now that we were betrayed, my father on his knees, grabbing the top of his sword he held his balance, he looked up at the moon and screamed "The light of the full moon is here to fullfill my oath, nature accept my body" and as he finished Zadicus pushed his sword straight into Rathals heart with me screaming in the background being pulled away into the darkness by Ilyrana."
"The sand of the hourglass turned, me and my mother sought shelter in the slums of Baldur´s gate and lived off contracts connected to the thieves guild operating out of the slums, thieving and living through any means we could survive and gather money to travel to the fabled Evereska forest to other elf-kin, around the year 1406dr, Ilyrana simply dissapeared one day without any trace or word told to me, after searching the slums and talking to almost every race i could find the only lead that could say anything was one name "Xanathar's Thieves" and after some more persuading and talking i got to know that the Xanathars operated mainly out of the Sword coast, but on my name i only had my mother possessions and my own which was made out mostly of my fathers gifts to me that i never part with and some gold coins so without any means to travel to distant regions i sold everything my mother owned and everything except the clothes, my swords and bow to be able to pursue the journey to Evereska forest"
"One year passed and i made my journey to the forest of Evereska living off the nature blending and living as one as my father taught me, the fate of my parents rested in the hands of the gods and the seclusion from other races living deep in the woods gave me serenity and during the journey to Evereska i fell deeply in love with nature and the elven way of my family to live off the lands, protecting it and living to serve the elven royal family grew in my head"
"With dark thoughts about my familys fate i was at last drawn to enter the fabled city of Evereska to work my way up the chain of the mercenary trade again to be able to serve my elven heritage and oath by taking the pillgrimage back to the Rucien-xan, i shortly after some months doing freelance contracts got into contact with a company that served the Evereska city with the same ideals as my own oath hunting for the darkness threatening elven race called "The Silent Rain Mercenaries", life went from a poor solitary situation to serving in a elite force infiltrating different places of the world to fight back at the enemies of the elven empire and it´s nature"
"The Silent Rain kept working relentlessly against the enemies of the empire and did whatever it took to eradicate them, The Silent Rain worked without a moral compass and without remorse to work it´s way to be the utter most elite elven force in the known worlds, as a only elven company we outlived most of the worlds known companies acting from 1407dr to 1482dr." "The Silent Rain had set camp back at the famous city Baldur´s gate to set a meeting with emissaries from Rucien-Xan, during talks with the emissaries the roads of Baldur´s Gate sprang to panic as screaming voices was heard into the small inn room, we moved closer to the streets and started hearing "Bhaal, The Lord of Murder has come back!", to forward events to make this entry shorter we had witnessed the events after the murder of Abdel Adrian and the start of the Second Sundering time, The Silent Rain disbanded after decisions from the emissaries that the different elven kingdoms needed all their infiltrated mercenaries to come home, and thus the three cycle long pilgrimage back to the only fabled city Rucien-Xan began for me and their emissaries"
"1482dr passed to 1485dr, with news during our travels about the clashing of gods, chosen beeing manipulated by gods, monster armies together with fanatics in the Material plane we passed the gates of The Rucien-Xan capital worn down from different events during the journey ranging from fanatical believers of the gods fighting wars to lurking monsters in the darkness of night, we lost several people to the events that now rests as one with nature."
"The Second Sundering was coined as a name of the events happening after studies showed that the second and the first sundering was connected, almost all elf kind had retreated back to their capitals and planes to protect the already slowly vanishing elven heritage, i was introduced to the royal family of the Xan and was to present my journal to them and re-live the events that took place during my life in service of the royals through my family, two years passed and from the introduction a handfull of ex-mercenary born elves with the wast experience of several human lives was chosen to create a infiltrating black ops group that acted on the behalf of the royal family of Rucien-Xan in the different planes of the known worlds."
"The Order of Xan was thus born and i was chosen to roam the Material plane acting as infiltrator of different levels of society, protector of nature and the elven heritage, legendary and fabled animals and to strike at darkness wherever i could find it may it be through mercenary companies, big legions of war or small adventure groups, we live by the oath and die by the oath, exactly as my father said..."
"the pilgrimage out of Rucien-Xan and our plane took me to the elven city of Cormyr during the Second Sundering event year 1487dr to aide the local lords to fight the agents of shar to disrupt the creation of a new shadow weave and to stop the ORder of the Blue Fire before they created a new Spellplauge"
"After a successful service for the Cormyr empire and after the end of the second sundering events i chose to journey to the country of Faerûn after a rumor that the Xanathar´s Thieves Guild have resurfaced and the memories of my long gone mother flooded my thoughts and my blood screamed for revenge and after a year of travel i stand here outside the gates of Neverwinter with bloodthirsty thoughts of revenge making my whole body tremor..."
Howdy y'all, check out this backstory! Would love some feedback/suggestions. I'm super into lore-accurate storylines and like to have tie-ins that occur throughout the campaign. This specific campaign is set to start next Friday. Enjoy!
Legar Maka: The Shadow of an Outcast
Born in the rolling hills of the Dessarin Valley, Legar Maka was brought into this world unlike any other Orc. The Iceshield orc tribe were a proud people who hunted and lived in the lands that bordered The High Forrest. One summers eve many moons ago, their settlement of Fha’Gith (meaning The Great Greenery) was invaded by Uthgardt barbarians of the Tree Ghost Tribe that lived deep in The High Forest. This age-old feud between the Tree Ghost Tribe and Iceshield orcs had endured for ages, however this attack was different. The shamans of Tree Ghost tribe accompanied the warriors in this attack and had strategically coordinated the assault to happen while the Iceshield orc males were away on a hunt.
The assault initiated and orc blood was spilt. The tribe was nearly extinguished by the Uthgardt barbarians, when in the final moments the men returned; only to find most of the women and children slain. One female orc, Kygar, was among the surviving women however she was not unscathed. She took shelter within her home and attempted to protect her son, Tordak, but as the raid ensued and an elvin shaman from the Tree Ghost Tribe entered her home. He murdered her son and raped the defenseless orc woman, and then managed to escape with the rest of the Tree Ghost Tribe.
Kygar’s husband perished in the defense of Fha’Gith and she was left impregnated with the half-orc bastard child to the elvin shaman. Ashamed and terrified, she kept the child a secret and thus Legar was born in secrecy. Kygar had plans to murder the half-orc child as soon as he was born, knowing that he would be discovered to be the bastard of the Ghost Tree Tribe. On the day that Legar was born he came out stone cold. With his eyes, pitch black orbs, the child peered into his mother’s eyes, and she noticed that he contained no obvious elvin features other than being slightly smaller than a normal orc child. Suddenly the child’s pupil-less black eyes subsisted and transformed into a beautiful misty grey, unlike anything Kygar has ever seen before. Kygar immediately fell in love with the peculiar child and decided to raise him, giving him the same name as her last husband. She knew there was something special about this half-orc.
Legar grew up much smaller and weaker than his fellow orcs, however something was very different about this young orc. Whereas all orcs are warm bodied creatures, Legar’s skin is always icy cold to the touch. He also had a knack for controlling and manipulating the darkness around him. His mother never told him of his true father, so he grew up always thinking that he carried the same name as his true birthright father. Legar’s knack for his ability to perform shadowy cantrips led him into an apprenticeship of the tribe’s elder shaman Morgo’dan. Legar studied and trained under his new master for the better part of two decades, learning how to harness and control the magic in the world around him and commune with the ancient spirits of his tribe.
Legar never had a problem with harnessing the magic within the elements, however the ancient spirits were often very quiet, and seldomly spoke to him. This concerned Morgo’dan and always made him very suspicious of his young apprentice. As the years pasted, Legar grew close to Morgo’dan, looking up to him as the missing father figure in his life. The day finally came for the ritual of Legar’s Shamanistic Ascension; the day he officially becomes shaman of the tribe. During the ritual, everything went according as planned and as the elements coalesced into their physical forms… it happened…
The darkness that Legar was born of, the shadows his mother saw in his eyes the day he was born was finally to transcend into their truest form. The shadows leaped from Legar’s body and fused into a humanoid figure. With the surrounding elementals in their physical forms, and the other shamans of the tribe gathered around, everyone stood in silence when suddenly the dark figure lashed out, casting all of the elemental forms into a different plane of existence. As the battle ensued Legar hovered there, levitating in the air in a catatonic state with his eyes blackened. The tribe’s shamans stood there in awe, not knowing what to do, if there was even anything they could do.
The shamans attempted to attack the shadowy monstrosity, and they too were banished to the extradimensional plane. The only one left, Morgo’dan, went for Legar’s body, hoping to dispel the trance his apprentice was in. As soon as he was close enough and touched his ally, the shadowy figure dissipated and shot back into Legar. The light returned back into his eyes and he fell in Morgo’dan’s arms. As Legar looked at Morgo’dan who was now holding his body, looking at him with sheer horror, there was a brief moment of reprieve. All of a sudden on sheer impulse a shroud of pure darkness engulfed the both of them. Legar faded from consciousness and fell into a trance.
He was then brought to see the vision of his true contraception many years before. After the memory transpired and passed, he found himself in his physical form once again but now he was standing on water. Surrounded by open nothingness. He turned to see the dark shadowy figure, floating above the water. The figure raised its shadowy arms out to its side, and with a clap, flames immediately sprang out from around Legar’s dark passenger and engulfed him in the blink of an eye. Darkness took him once again.
Legar awoke, lying next to his bloodied, burnt master. Other tribesmen now gathered around the two. He had no idea what the others had seen, or the events that had transpired that led to the demise of his dearest friend. There was nothing but a ring of shadow and flame around spread around the two, indicating that this was a product of his own doing.
Legar had been an outcast his entire life, however he thought he found his place among the shamans of the Iceshield Tribe. He was wrong. Detained, beaten, tortured. Imprisoned for nearly a decade, the orcs kept Legar barely alive but still making sure that he serves his life sentence for murder of the tribes High Shaman, Morgo’dan. Legar was often forced to accompany trips to the Greypeak Mountains with the hill giants of Grudd Haug to capture and bring back unsuspecting prey. This was customary of the Iceshield Tribe, as tribute for the tenuous alliance form between the orcs and the hill giant chief Guh.
Legar was left with truly nothing. His mother, Ky’gar, was murdered for giving birth to “this evil abomination” and was he abandoned by the few whom were close to him. Even his dark passenger seemingly left him throughout this period of time. All he had to hang on to was the hatred he had for this dark passenger and the elf who cursed him from the beginning; his birth father.
Solid backstory, good material for a DM to work with and a very interesting character to play. Will he give in to his dark side, or will he fight this shadow and subjugate it to protect those around him. Who was the mysterious father and was he even an elf at all or some other magical creature in disguise. Will he seek vengeance against the tribe that destroyed his home on the day of his conception or seek to form new bonds of alliance. STAY TUNED! I really like it.
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"Where words fail, swords prevail. Where blood is spilled, my cup is filled" -Cartaphilus
"I have found the answer to the meaning of life. You ask me what the answer is? You already know what the answer to life is. You fear it more than the strike of a viper, the ravages of disease, the ire of a lover. The answer is always death. But death is a gentle mistress with a sweet embrace, and you owe her a debt of restitution. Life is not a gift, it is a loan."
Alright, I've never written this background down in its entirety before (or maybe I have and I've just forgotten that I did) so enjoy the tale of Whip, the tiefling monk.
Whip is an oddity. Although his body is a tiefling's now, it was...something else, probably human. His parents were distant relatives of a noble, which meant very little, but they had a warm, welcoming house in a small village. Things were pretty great, but a famine struck the land when Whip was a child. Banding together for the community, the family foraged for mushrooms and herbs when food supplies became low. On one such trip, they were captured by a group of cultists who were led by a tiefling.
Bound to a tree stump, the boy could do nothing but watch as his parents were slaughtered and his body began to change from its previous form to a tiefling, while the cult leader began to change into a human.
As the terrified boy looked over at his father, he saw the man's lips utter the word, 'run' before the last of the life drained from him. Breaking free of his bonds with a power he never knew that he had, he ran off into the woods, further and further from civilization, until he met a group of spider monkeys. Unable to speak out of fear and trauma, the boy became feral, living as part of the troop and serving as their protector against the local orc population. This continued for several years, until he was captured by a cruel circus ringmaster, who basically trapped him with food, cheap wine and a net. Confined to a cage, he travelled the length and breadth of Faerun as a sideshow attraction.
This continued for a while, until a swordsman and his wife happened to see him as they were shopping for supplies one day. Unable to tolerate the cruelty that the boy was enduring, they hatched a plot to rescue him under the cover of darkness. Carefully, they snuck through the circus, freeing attractions as they went. When they made it to the boy's cage, they were surprised to find him attempting his own escape. After breaking the boy's chains, the swordsman and his wife took the boy to their secluded shack in the forest. When they asked him his name, all he could say was 'whip,' which is the name he still bears to this day.
As time passed, Whip learned many things. How to walk like a humanoid, how to use a knife and fork to eat, why throwing your poop is rude and so on and so forth. He learned quickly, but he still suffered from horrible dreams that left him thrashing wildly at night. His new mother, who had spent a great deal of time in a monastery when she was a child, offered to take him to the monks, in hope that they would be able to soothe his heart more than she and the swordsman had been able to. With no other option, the three left their home (which had become larger over time) and headed for the monastery, where Whip was welcomed warmly. As luck would have it, the monastery had many trees, which made him think of home.
As Whip became more skilled in the martial arts, he became more articulate. Unfortunately, his dreams persisted. There were still the traumatic past dreams, but now he was dreaming of something bad that was coming for him. He didn't know what it was, but he felt it was right to leave his family and the monks behind to seek it out. After saying his goodbyes, Whip left the monastery in search of this new threat so that he can defeat it before it harms anyone he cares about.
Side note: he often slips between speaking common and infernal without realizing it.
Thank you my friend!!! These are literally the exact same questions I was asking myself while writing this.
This character will be introduced half-way through the 1st session; the party will find him chained up. We are starting this campaign at 3rd level, and I am actually the main DM however we will be rotating DM's throughout the campaign! I'm big into backstories and plot hooks like this so I reaaaaaaally hope the party picks up on it.
Hi everyone. I only got into d&d a year ago and dove straight in as a DM. Shortly afterwards one of my players invited me to join his game as a player.
I thought it’d be cool to play as an earlier version of one of the NPC’s I’d created. In my game it was the captain of bunch of pirates called ‘The Bilge rats’.
He was a wereshark and had intimidated a group of wererats to be his crew. So in my friends game I decided to do a younger version of that character before he went all cruel.
His name is Furble. A Deep Gnome Level 6 Barbarian with a sailors background.
Furble hated the Underdark. It was claustrophobic, dank, dark and too hot at times. When old enough he went to the surface and found the ocean.
It was the complete opposite to the Underdark. He soon found his dark vision gave him an advantage to see in the dark depths of the ocean. His ability to hide in rocky terrain on the seabed (like coral) helped avoid predators. A captain hired him for those skills and he became adept at searching underwater shipwrecks.
He learnt many skills over the years from passengers, crew mates and travelling around the coasts. He was taught how to commune with animals and see through their eyes.
He put this skill to good use by regularly using a Lobster he started training. He gave it the name ‘silky’ and it helped him explore shipwrecks. Accessing areas Furble couldn’t and retrieving even more treasures. Furble started to follow the path of the Totem warrior. Taking on the aspect of a tiger shark.
His captain asked him to assist a group of adventurers (introduction to my friends game) and after that quest Furble decided to join them for a while.
While adventuring with this group he was bitten by a were-shark. Currently he is stubbornly fighting his primal instincts and determined this lycanthropy curse will make him a stronger fighter. Little does he know it will one day lead him down a path to become vicious, cruel and prey on the weak.
Sorry, I know this is mildly off-topic, but wasn't the option to read other player's character sheets added not long ago? If people have added their backstories to their character sheets, how would one go about looking at them?
Saqari was firstborn to Ilitar and Hinaria Oonayak of the clan, Oridiathas in the Cloak Wood, south of Baldur's Gate. The Oridiathas clan are considered patrons of the cult of Shadow Druids.
The Shadow Druids are an active druidic cult which operates along the Sword Coast and Amn and which believes that nature should drive out civilization with violence.
All firstborn children of the Oridiathus clan are brought, at birth, to the Monks of the Windrock along the peninsula to the southwest of the Cloak Wood. Here they are trained in the arts of self-defense and combat, to one day accompany a druidic shadarien. A shadarien consists of a senior druid, 3 druidic acolytes, a Fist of the Rock and up to a dozen lesser monks.
Saqari accompanied her shadarien on training missions into the Cloak Wood many times. In one training mission, three of her brothers and her got separated from the main shadarien while scouting through a draw leading to the top of a wooded hilltop. Here they stumbled upon an owlbear. Though they fought bravely, her three companions perished and she was grievously injured. A long scar in the shape of a crescent remains hidden above her left kidney. Despite this, they had killed the owlbear. When she was being tended to, their healer found a claw of the owlbear within her wound. She wears this as a trophy, around her neck on a piece of sturdy twine, but hides it in her cleavage and under her shirt.
After the battle and after she gained the rank of novice she was assigned to a shadarien that was responsible for patrolling the Forest of Wyrms. Many times the shadarien attacked, harassed and drove off loggers and hunters from within the forest. It was here that Saqari met a wererat brigand from the nearby village of Soubar named Arias Bruthel. Arias was the charismatic lieutenant of a band of brigands and ruffians known as the Caravaneers whose leader was oft-rumored to be an illithid. As part of her duties, the leader of her shadrien had Saqari infiltrate the Caravaneers to find it's weaknesses. Saqari took to her new-found duty with relish, but soon fell in love with the handsome Arias.
Torn between her lover and her oath bound duty, Saqari betrayed her shadarien to Arias and a plot to not only destroy her shadarien ensued, but also to overthrow the Caravaneer's leader. This leader, however, did not attain his position by being stupid. In one rendezvous with Saqari, the leader sent a doppelganger spy cloaked in the persona of Arias to meet with Saqari, while Arias was busy raiding a spice caravan to the north.
A few weeks later, the plan unfolded, but not the way the two lovers had anticipated. Constantly harassed by the shadarien, the Caravaneers looked upon their carefully constructed ambush as a means to finally dispose of the shadarien for good. As the ambush unfolded, it became apparent to the shadarien's Fist of the Rock that Saqari had betrayed them. As he charged towards Saqari, Arias met him in mortal combat. The two fought each other, while Saqari and her new brethren cut down most of the shadarien. Only, Arias and Saqari had even bigger plans. From the sky streaked a pair of green dragons set on destroying both the shadarien and the leadership of the Caravaneers. Saqari and Arias had met the pair a month earlier. The village of Soubar and the constant logger presence had kept the green dragons on the eastern edge of the forest. Saqari and Arias had made a bargain with them. Should they help them destroy the shadarien and the Caravaneer's leaderhsip, they would keep loggers from the forest as well as adventurers from the village. In return, the green dragons would get control of the whole of the Forest of Wyrms.
With their plans intact, the destruction of the shadarien and the leaderhsip of the Caravaneers was complete. With such powerful allies, the rest of the Caravaneers acquiesced to the leadership of Arias and Saqari. For months, the two planned raids of caravans, merchants and the surrounding countryside. Loggers were driven out and the village became a haven for all sorts of cutthroats, ruffians and ne'er-do-wells.
That was until the Shadow Druids sent three full shadariens led by a Ranger Knight by the name of Prialus of the Redwoods to Soubar. Overwhelmed, Arias and the Caravaneers were wiped out to a man, while the village was razed and all of its inhabitants slain. Saqari, however, witnessed the entirety of the slaughter from the edge of a stand of trees upon a hillock overlooking the town from the north. Powerless to stop the carnage, she swore an oath to destroy the Shadow Druids. She waited a month to approach the remains of the village of Soubar. Nothing remained, except a simple key carved of alabaster that had belonged to Arias that he had kept hidden behind a loose stone of the village well. What was it that Arias had told her about the false bottom of the chest in the Green Suite of the Sleeping Snake tavern........?
Just reworked a backstory for a character I have yet to play. Now that she doesn't have a difficult gameplay gimmick and is, instead, a normal character, I felt she needed a more thought out back story. It's still generalized because I haven't found a group yet to play with, so, sorry no specifics on locations or connected NPCs.
The spoiler contains the backstory for Svelt, my tiefling warlock I wanna run some day...
Svelt was the only tiefling born to a family of humans. She grew up with them in a small farming community just north of a major river. Her life has not been without pain however. She never knew her mother, and both the family she grew up with, as well as the community that raised her, frequently bullied her for her demonic heritage.
One fateful day, she'd had enough. She lashed out at her tormentors, only to be struck down and beaten until she was unconscious. She awoke later, in the forest near her home. Face to face with a devil, disguised as a wealthy gentleman. He claimed to have done her a great deed, and offered her his power and continued support- for a price. "Something important," or so he claimed. Unable to fully comprehend the size of the deal, she sheepishly accepted.
She later returned to her village to find it in ruins, bodies littering the streets. Perhaps this is the deed her patron spoke of? Either way, she's had nightmares about it ever since...
Tarik Blackstone; a half-elf arcane trickster. Hope to use this one in a session soon.
Born to the not-so-affluent life of his mother's Elven heritage, Tarik Blackstone inherited his father's proud nature while the grace and cautiousness of his Elven mother Tal'en. Though his mother is from a well-to-do family in the woods of Galorum, his father was more of a merchant and has dealt with the elves of the woods for a majority of his life. However, Tarik's father Rikos stumbled upon a strange coup rising in the Elven city. Begging his wife to leave, she couldn't; her family has always lived in these woods and will continue to do so. It wasn't long before the coup was more than just a coup.
Several drows took over the city from within and siezed the throne from its rightful rulers. Realizing that her husband was telling the truth, Tal'en Blackstone took her children and sent them off to their father. Her business in the city remained unfinished; her fate remains unknown.
After rising in the ranks of his father's hometown soldier unit, Tarik has always wondered what had happened back in Galorum. Using his natural inquisitive nature, he left the safety of his father's business and began to hone his investigative skills by sticking to the shadows. His arrival in Galorum had to wait; several towns have asked of his natural detective skills to discover the horrors of their streets. Naturally, Tarik knew his skills need to be top notch before he can reach the home of his Elven mother.
Here is a backstory for my first ever DnD character, Gaius Cayden Antonius. Warning, it's a big one but with lots of detail. Enjoy!
Gaius Antonius
“Treat people how you think they’d treat you.”
- Annalise Belmont-Toth Antonius
Born into the upper class and ever famous Antonius family, Gaius Cayden Antonius was expected to understand swordsmanship from the moment he first gripped a blade. His father, Thomas Antonius, served as a personal guard to King Titus, the monarch of his region and the king of the Kingdom of Tohklai. While busy with his duties as a guard, Thomas still always made time to teach Gaius everything he could. Anything from the noble art of fencing to the arts his mother never actually new about (jokes, pickpocketing, and card tricks), Gaius soaked it up like a sponge. His mother Annalise was everything Gaius could have asked for in a parent. Always by his side, always helpful, and most importantly always loving. No matter how many times Gaius got into trouble, Annalise was always by his side with a smooth way out and quote to remember.
By age 10, Gaius was keeping pace with soldiers twice his age. While he was not quite big enough to reasonably best any of them in an official sparring match, it was clear that he was making remarkable improvements. By age 13, he was trumping all but the kingdoms finest in sparring duels. Near impossible to hit and never missing a strike himself, Gaius made a name for himself amongst the guards of Tohklai. Making a living on the side by gambling with loaded dice and marked cards, Gaius was able to not only learn games of coin, but ultimately control them in such a way that his victims never knew they were losing until Gaius was holding every coin at the table. While this admittedly was not the most honest or the most necessary way of living, Gaius thoroughly enjoyed the games that his played. He even managed to hustle a traveling tamer out of a baby weasel, which he promptly named Pondo.
By age 16, Gaius was formally accepted into the Noble Guard, working alongside his father in direct defense of the King Titus. His speed and mastery of the blade was unbelievable. Over the years, everyone in the kingdom came to love Gaius. “The Fleetest of the Fleet” or “The Dancing Hornet”, Gaius accumulated a multitude of nicknames each more ridiculous than the last. It was quite hard not to with how impressive his mastery of many types of blades had advanced. From Scimitars to Fencing blades and Short swords to the occasional Bastard blade, Gaius’s form was impeccable. So much so that he became known for creating his own form he coined as “The Dancing Weasel” iconically named after his love and fascination for his pet weasel. Though the fighting style was primarily composed of feints and lunges and frequently left Gaius open for direct strikes, the boy never allowed an adversary to land a blow to his body (mainly to protect the weasel that essentially lived in his clothes). The kingdom’s best would be left defeated and aggravated after being beaten by a young man who appeared to be paying more attention to the weasel in his hood than the duel at hand. Despite the comical titles and bouts, the Kingdom was in a tense state of affairs with possible siege. With Thomas being Titus’s personal guard, he was available to spend less and less time with Gaius. For two years, Gaius recalls only seeing his father for a couple hours a week.
During this time, Gaius honed his skills as a gambler. Through this, he was able to buy his mother wonderful and exotic gifts from areas throughout all of Tohklai. While there were some close encounters, no one was ever able to find out how Gaius was able to dominate the gambling scene in every establishment. Spending a lot of time in taverns and bars of the such, he was able to make many connections with the lower-level districts in the kingdoms. The noble families weren’t exactly revered in Tohklai, but there wasn’t a soul in the city that wouldn’t crack a smile at the mention of Gaius Cayden Antonius. He was a noble, yes, but he never let that stop him from bringing himself to even the level of the street rats and learning all there was to learn about his kingdom.
Many a time, Gaius would find himself taking up odd jobs to take down thieves and other minor criminals in the lower districts. Tohklai held a strong legal system, and the punishment for many crimes was death. Thievery especially, since Tohklai promoted strong bonds within households, communities, and districts. Gaius was no stranger to a kill, as he had been on a campaign to retrieve a kidnapped girl of Tohklai from a tribe of Orcs. Gaius was paraded for how many thieves and bandits he had cut down for picking on the pockets of the poorest of the poor, and before he hit adulthood, he found more praise in the districts outside his own due to his father’s busy schedule.
As his 18th birthday rolled around, Gaius was surprised to wake up to his father being home. On the kitchen table sat a case engraved with the Antonius family crest with a handle with equally impressive craftsmanship. Thomas stood up and smiled a familiar smile, only seen before in when Gaius was young. Thomas said “We have a lot to do. Come on.” and snatched up the case as he moved to the door. Gaius looked confused, but nonetheless grabbed his bag and followed his father as Pondo scurried up his leg and into his jacket’s hood. The two walked all the way up to the castle at the top of their Kingdom Tohklai and took a stone path out of a rarely used gate on the north wall. Following this path took them to the monk’s temple that resided far up the mountain side adjoining their kingdom. Once they reached the base of the temple, Thomas turned and looked Gaius in the eyes.
“25 years ago, my father took me here taught me how to do something that I will now teach you.” His father pulled out the case, unfastened the locks, and turned it around to face him. In front of Gaius, cradled in purple velvet casing and fine leather straps, was a revolver made from a metal Gaius couldn’t even recognize and engraved with the mastery that only a Dwarven Smith master could accomplish. His eyes grew wide as he stared as the single most expensive thing he’d ever been so close to. “Let’s see if it still fires as well as it used to, eh?”
For the rest of the day, up until dusk threatened the horizon, Gaius fired round after round into trees and makeshift targets. At first, his aim was sloppy. The recoil startled him for the first several rounds and even once he was past the aspect of surprise, his aim was still off-centered because he had to learn to fire with his off hand. Fortunately, Thomas had brought an entire sack of ammunition. Gaius fired round after round until his fingers were black with powder and his wrist was sore from the kick of the revolver. After hours of practice, Gaius finally felt he was consistent enough to head back for the night. He was excited to get up early the next morning and spend even more time practicing his shots. That night, Gaius slept with the sidearm holstered to his belt and Pondo on his chest as usual.
Gaius awoke to a flash of light, followed immediately thereafter by an explosive. He stood up so quickly Pondo flung across the room and slid across the floor, scampering to regain balance and quickly re-stationing to Gaius’s hood. Gaius belted his rapier and bolted for the door. Once he got to the doorway, what he saw horrified him. The kingdom he’d loved and lived in, flaming under the stars. Shouts and screams and cries from the lower districts that he’d spent so much time in echoed into his ears and he watched them burn to the ground. A second volley of fireballs rocketed over the walls towards the upper districts and towards him. Gaius had made small ground before remembering to retrieve his mother. Turning around, Gaius was met with a grimly sight. His mother standing in the doorway rubbing her eyes after waking, moments before a ball of flames leveled Gaius’s house. Tears ran down Gaius’s face from the shock of watching his mother being taken from him forever in an instant. He turned and ran, overwhelmed with every emotional he’d never had, towards the castle where he knew his father would be. Pondo sat in the hood, bouncing up and down from the reckless sprinting and watching terrified and fire filled the kingdom.
“Mom....she didn’t.... why didn’t you...Mom...”
Gaius tried to relay everything he could in broken sentences to his father, but Thomas knew exactly what he was trying to say. With a sternness that Gaius had never seen, Thomas said they needed to get to Titus. Gaius wiped his tears and wiped his nose and nodded. The two gathered themselves and made way to the chamber to hold out their final duties.
The door to Titus’s chambers collapsed with a force only the intruders could cause. Orcish Barbarians, the most ruthless tribe in the region, was staring Gaius in the eyes. He felt calm. He had lost his kingdom, his home, his mother, and almost certainly his life, and yet with rapier in hand and father at his side, he felt at home again. The chieftains charged and Gaius forced himself back to reality.
War axes and broadswords made many of the confrontations simple and quick work for the Antonius duo, as heavy and two-handed weapons don’t fare well against a quicker and lighter blade. Orcs left and right fell to the swift and controlled movements of the two swordsmen. Wave after wave entered the chamber, and while the finesse and form held strong, the bodies of the guards and the father and son didn’t. Every wave brought a new death to ranks of the Noble Guard, and before long, the father and son stood as the last two. Cut and bludgeoned, Thomas stood much weaker than Gaius who was only suffering from the fatigue. As the next group of Orcs moved forward, it was clear that this would be their last stand. These Orcs not only were bigger and more heavily armored, but were each flanked by a Mastiff the size of a small bear, blood dripping from the mouths of each. The Orcs released their dogs and charged behind them, forcing Thomas to his feet and Gaius back into his stance.
His father went down faster than Gaius could understand. The Mastiff’s overwhelmed his ruined body made for a moment of realization for Gaius.
For the first time in his life, he was alone.
He assumed his most comfortable position, and began his dance of death. Whirling and parrying, deep ripostes followed by skillful disarmament, Gaius tore through every living creature in the room until only he was left standing in the hall. Gaius collapsed.
Waking up to room full of dead Orcs, dogs, and friends was not something Gaius was fond of. His happy expression drained from his face, his tidy hair side-trodden, and his only living friend still inside his hood, he made the only move he could think to make. Without thinking to check the bodies, Gaius made his way out of Castle Tohklai, to the north wall, and up the stone path...
“You shouldn’t drink so much. I’ve read it’s very bad for your body and soul” said Levi.
“whAt hAVeN’T yoU rEad..?!” slurred Gaius.
A year after the death of his family, Gaius had picked up some...unattractive habits…
After leaving his village and seeking refuge with the monks, he had found that the Orcs hadn’t only attacked his Kingdom. The floors of the temple were scattered with bodies and the walls splattered with blood. Indifferent to the sight after what he had already witnessed, Gaius hung his head and headed out into the forest to trek to the nearest village, hoping it had been spared. He made it no more than a mile into the trees before he spotted a monk, meditating on the ground. The figure was tiny, and Gaius immediately recognized it as a Halfling. He called out to him, and the monk rose with excitement at the sight of a companion. Levi had made a new best friend.
“The swaying of the boat will only throw your center of balance off more. You won’t be able to stand straight.”
“aHhh H JfkJiivvh kN gfGhH” spat Gaius as he collapsed out of his seat and onto the floor of the ship’s bar.
Levi drug Gaius back to his quarters and began meditating per usual. Gaius awoke to the sound of the ship docking and the surprising feeling of sobriety.
“I packed our things. We’re ready to go as soon as you want.”
Gaius stood up and thanked Levi with a confused nod. Grabbing their things, Gaius and Levi headed for the main deck. It had been nearly a year after leaving the port city of Crandershok on their trip to a new land.
“Take this. The money is in your name, but I’ve tucked a little extra for your friend. You two are wonderful to have on board, and my crew and I owe our lives to you many times over. The amount of times we would have been boarded if- “
“Really sir, it’s not a problem. You had a problem, and we had a solution. You gave us shelter and food and that was more than we could have asked for.”
“Just be safe. You’re young and I’d hate to hear of you being TOO reckless.” As they walked off the shipped, the captain called once more.
“Gaius!”
“Hm?”
“Go easier on the drinks. Pondo told me you were drinking again.” Rolling his eyes out of view of the captain and clearly in view of the already smirking Levi, they stepped foot from sea to land. The land of opportunities. Their opportunities. The land of Vanshire.
Relying on his acquired taste for the katana gifted to him by the captain and his adjusted Dancing Weasel, Gaius Cayden Artonius leads a for-the-people life of money, drink, and a good laugh where he can find it. Never passing the opportunity to care and maintenance his family heirloom, personally named Annalise, and striving for a new life to make his father proud of his turnout, Gaius, Pondo and his last friend Levi step off the Branded Girallon on to the Port City of Vanshire looking for a destiny neither could predict. Utilizing his skills as a swordsman and his quick wit as a “professional” gambler, Gaius plans to blaze a path and earn the riches necessary to rebuild a kingdom he once loved so very much…
Born on a small cluster of Islands,Neptune lived a normal life. Helping his family on the farm on one of the islands while traveling around to the other islands to sell the crops. But there were a few...quirks to his life. Most of the people on is island worshipped a god known as Hiaga known as the god of fire and/or sun and had nothing against mythological creature slaves. Neptune never liked either so he worshiped worshipped two oceanic gods,Mohei(goddess of the moon) and Vienna (goddess of water and rain). Hearing of this his parents were pissed and sent him into the army,thinking that will “cleanse” his soul of worshiping two oceanic gods and for treating the slaves as equals.
A year later,Neptune became one of the best. He was so good that he joined the Celestine,an elite group that few make it into,only 30/100,000 have ever made it in. He was also one of the smartest.One day Captain Zudnyr came up to him ording him to go to Island delta for a research project.
Once he arrived he was shocked to find the project was to research a single mermaid. Why they were researching her? Because they wanted to know how menfolk could withstand the pressure of the ocean. Neptune went up to the mermaid and she smiled the said “Hi” as if greeting an old friend. Neptune learned the mermaid’s name was Miranah but just to call her Mira. He also learned that she has been in confinement since she was 5 and she’s 21. Hearing this Neptune barged into the lead researcher’s office demanding that she bet let loose. He did this for a week before he heard that she was going to be dissected. At that point he lost it,he killed everyone involved and carried Mira to a nearby beach. All while being stabbed,cut,shot at,and poisoned by fellow researchers.
Once at the beach he set Mira down by the water and stabbed in the back by Tyen,a Celestine member. After almost getting cut in half and putting down Tyen. He sat down by a nearby rock. The last thing he was that night was Mira crying. Then he died.Neptune saw nothing but white,but as his eyes focused he saw a rabbit and an orca. At that moment he woke up,Mira was gone and he now had a pink seashell on his lap. On that day he swore to find Mira and protect her.
This is the mostly-complete backstory for my newest character, the human necro wizard Morrigan Devlin. The game doesn't start til September; once the DM gives us more details about the plot premise, I'll add/tweak the backstory to make her reason for joining the group more apparent - right now I'm just sticking with a generic reason she left home.
No one can agree on the specifics, as is often the case with family legends, but everyone knows that the goddess Wynjess - elsewhere called Wee Jas - has taken a special interest in the Devlin family.
The Devlins are an old family and a proud family, but they do not have the wealth to match their illustrious heritage. As one of the noble families on Inis Oirthir, the smallest island of Airlann, they used to have money and prestige - as attested by their large manor house that perches atop a sea cliff on the eastern edge of the island. But several generations ago calamity fell upon the Devlins: gambling debts, illness, and foul weather that destroyed their sheep and their fishing waters. Now House Devlin is slowly mouldering in the salty air, with haphazard repairs to the roof and the walls clearly visible and barely adequate.
This is what people point to when they say Wynjess cursed House Devlin.
However, the Devlin women for many generations have been noted for their exceptional intelligence, beauty, and magical acumen; whether by making canny business agreements, managing to marry a wealthy merchant, or by using novel magical techniques to bolster the meager output of their land, it is the women of House Devlin who have kept the family afloat for many years.
This is what people point to when they say Wynjess blessed House Devlin.
And then Morrigan Devlin was born, and no one was sure whether she was blessed or cursed.
Her mother, Emer, had studied the arcane arts for many years, and immediately recognized the bluish marks that covered her infant daughter’s body: they were magical runes. Morrigan was effectively a living spellbook. It was possible that the magical experiments that Emer performed while pregnant had caused this curious side effect, but no one new for sure; what was certain was that Morrigan’s unique condition did nothing to quell the rumors that swirled like bats around the Devlins.
For the first decade of Morrigan’s life, she lived with her mother and father - Conan Lynch, a doctor - in a tidy house on Inis Mor, the largest island of Airlann. But one day Conan was riding home from a patient’s house when something spooked his horse; it threw him, breaking his neck and killing him. Or at least that is what the constables concluded, as there was no one around to witness the event, and it was hours before another traveler happened upon his body.
Stricken with grief, which was compounded by the inevitable rumors that the Devlin curse had caused her husband’s death, Emer took Morrigan back to the family manor on Inis Oirthir. There, Morrigan was raised not only by her mother, but by her grandparents, a few spinster aunts, and an uncle and aunt who had children of their own. The Devlins were at this point too poor to have servants - though the tenants on their land would occasionally perform odd jobs around the house - and so each family member was expected to contribute, and to help others when needed. Family came first, always. And though Morrigan mourned the loss of her father, she found comfort knowing that the rest of her family would always come to her aid when she asked.
It was, perhaps, inevitable that Morrigan would follow in her mother’s footsteps. Emer did her best to explain to Morrigan from an early age what the marks on her body were, and why other people didn’t have them. Morrigan’s relationship with her condition varied over time - some years she was fiercely proud of them, other years she was profoundly ashamed, and some years she was a confusing mix of the two. Because of this inconstant enthusiasm, her magical scholarship was uneven, and by the time she was an adult she had mastered only a handful of spells, despite having a significant head start over most wizards. Emer, ever-patient, allowed Morrigan to set her own pace, and was always there to resume teaching when Morrigan was once again ready.
By the time Morrigan was an adult, her grandparents had passed, leaving her Uncle Alastar in charge of the family’s estate. Alastar was a genial but practical-headed man, and while he was very fond of his sister and niece, he had the entire family to look out for, and he began to feel that Morrigan could, perhaps, do more to contribute to the family’s well-being. He never gave her an ultimatum, of course - he would never be so uncouth - but he began to drop hints that Morrigan should start looking for a wealthy husband or, failing that, some other method of income. The guilt trip worked, if for no other reason than Morrigan got sick of his nagging and left the manor house to escape it.
Upon leaving the haven of House Devlin, Morrigan quickly discovered that the outside world viewed the close-knit family with suspicion; besides the rumors that they were cursed (rumors that cut deeper than Morrigan cared to admit), there were more outlandish whispers that the Devlins were a family of vampires, or that they kidnapped children to sacrifice to Wynjess, and other such poppycock. Morrigan learned to hide her markings, lest she add fuel to the fire. Still, rumors or no, the Devlins were still noble, and that afforded her some privileges that made her travels easier.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"We're the perfect combination of expendable and unkillable!"
Tarmasis the black dragonborn, (born 17 Deepwinter - 1461 DR, Year of Three Goddesses Blessing) was once a proud member of Clan Verthicha Hesjing. He spent his years in the mountains of Tymanther hunting beside his people and creating strong ties with family and loved ones.
On the third moon of Kythorn, 1481 DR, Tarmasis stood on watch protecting the walls of his village from unknown intruders. The night was quiet other than the light banter he and Willfire, a tiefling of similar age, shared to pass the time. Suddenly out of nowhere a series of horrid blood-curdling screams came from inside the village walls, the two turned to see a white blur tearing through buildings and rending flesh and bone from familiar forms. His village was under attack and already, in an instant, so many had died. He rushed in to combat with his longsword overhead and fought until the last of his people fell. Surrounded in the corpses of his loved ones he struck the final blow upon the unknown creature, ripping the skull from its head in vengeance.
The night grew silent once more. Wounded, near death and crushed of spirit knowing all he had was lost, Tarmasis fled the bloodied husk that was once his home, never to return again. His face and half his torso torn and severed but his legs and mind still intact. Afraid to be seen by civilization, he spent the following six years in seclusion, traveling the Plaguelands, hiding from hideous mutated creatures and forgotten pilgrims, occasionally finding the misjudged comfort of shelter in the ruined city of Ormpetarr.
The years melted away as the dragonborn grew in power with his dedication to survive the horrid lands; all that were familiar to him. This natural tenant to explore places unfit for most people lead him deep in to a soft glowing cave of blue light. Before him, illuminated by cerulean glow, a large steel sword lay rested upon a rock slab. Eager to loot this prized gem he lifted it from the cold stone. A loud ringing vibrated through his mind and before him, an entity of unimaginable horror appeared. Paralyzed by fear, he stared down the devil, the unknown depths of his mind tapping in to insanity with every lingering second...until darkness.
Tarmasis opened his eyes. He stood surrounded in the same familiar vault of cavernous rock, but the comforting blue glow had diminished and fled, in its place a cacophony of rot and decay. Where there was light, there is now shadow. In front of him the same figure from before, staring strictly with piercing eyes, no clear intent to remove its gaze from the paralytic dragonborn.
What felt like an hour passed with unmoving hostility and fear, Tarmasis found the strength to step forward and approach this being. "I am nothing to you! What do you want from me?!" With no hesitation the entity responded in broken whispers, "Black dragon, who hath survived the Plaguelands, who slayed the quaggoth, brought to me by fate. I know you. Clanless, broken and alone. Seeking purpose. Take this light, the last gift of Shar. With it you will find new strength and once again return to the world of the living." The entity reached out with long fingers and hovering in his withered palm a cerulean blue flame. With nothing to lose, without hesitation, the dragonborn lurched forward and reached for the mysterious source of power.
In an instant, the air felt clear, the walls once again breathing with moss and morning dew. He had returned to his world and his old scars now healed. The entity was gone, and in its place still lay the gnarled, unsound sword. Tarmasis lifted it, weightlessly, from the ground and heard a familiar voice echo in his head, "Black dragon. I will be your hand and guide you. Listen when I whisper. Feed me when I hunger. Together we will finish what she started."
Two years passed, the black dragon and his mysterious sword traveled across Faerun with new invigorated health; cutting down those unworthy of life, who threatened settlements similar to that of his lost home, confident to never let history repeat itself.
In a warm tavern bed upon the border of the fabled Sword Coast, a restless night threw itself over the dragonborn, like stagnant pond water it sank painfully into his pores. He saw the world being destroyed by cold choking fumes, lightning storms, waves of acid, and horrible fire. It climaxed with ten evil eyes glaring down at him from the darkness. As he awoke, a familiar whisper entered his ears, wishing him towards the small town of Greenest. Without question there he traveled, another path he must take upon command of his strange dark passenger he vowed his life to so long ago.
Yeryn Pilwicken, forest gnome monk.
Early life:
Subsequent training:
My attempt at creating a Necromancer using medicine to get closer to his adoration of Death. It's pretty short -.-
Feedback is welcome!
At first, the blood startled him. It took a few years for him to get used to it. Each operation he would watch or participate through made him sick to his stomach. Eventually he grew colder to it. Soon he started performing operations strictly on his own. When no one was watching, in that grisly room he became enamored with it. He kept his admiration hidden. No one would understand.
This new feeling gave rise to an even greater desire: Control. He wanted to experiment with it. He searched for hidden scripts and scrolls that allowed some control. Too quickly he mastered the foundation of this occult. Too quickly he suffered the consequences. In one of the many tomes he acquired, a strong magic sat seducing him. For a short time he was able to bring something back, past the end, past the it, but the repercussions were dire. He lost it. The magic turned on him and in desperation, he fled but not without cost. As he kicks open the door to an empty shack, clutching his face, cursing the nine hells, hopelessly looking for the other half of his vision, he sat bleeding. Slumped opposite the broken door, grasping at his blindness, he could make out the screeching of his mortal mistake. The control was too much of a liability for his adolescent studies. He need to understand it in a different way.
So he began to travel once more. He started his practice up again. Along the path he would watch closely, this time hoping to gain more insight. He knew what could be done, he knew it was controllable, he just had to learn what makes it tick.
First rough draft for my Aasimar Paladin Caius Ellios. Trying to work in backround reasons for his high charisma, strength and constitution. As well as good ties to his flaws, bonds, etc.
I am from a small town under a small monarchy in the east. My mother, Alice Ellios, was ostrascized for being with child before marriage and no man would have her. None would believe that she had been visited by an Angel who had left her with me. She was driven to the only profession left to any women that is viewed as she was and thus I was raised in a brothel, around all the vices of man. Despite this my mother was able to afford an education for me from the small abbey to Lathander. For this, I will be eternally grateful to my mother for this was unknowingly the first step along the rightous path I was destined to walk. At 17, before I had discovered the path, I was beholden to all the earthly vices. Being raised in the place that I was, it was very easy to woo women, or talk to any one really, especially after a few cups. One night a beautiful young lady walked into the tavern I frequented most nights and I immedeately set my sights on her. Cup by cup and word by word I fell more and more in love with her. She was very shy at first, and slow in opening up to me, but by the end of the night we were in each others arms all the same. She was not my first, but I knew no other woman would ever compare. I determined to ask her to marry me in the morning when our heads were clear, but I awoke with a sword to my face and a room full of royal guards. That was the moment that I learned the truth of my mother's claims, radiant energy burst from my eyes and mouth, I felt it consuming me, but it blinded the guards and I was able to make my escape. I barely made it to my mother's establishment where I was hidden away before passing out. That was when I had my first visit from Valandras, the vision showed me how disappointed he was with my current life path, I was falling away from my ordained path, my purpose, and into the clutches of the vices of the mortal world. The pain of my celestial power awakening would always be there, anytime I called upon it, as a punishment for falling from my path, and a reminder that I would only be set right once. Valandras would not tolerate any further time wasted upon earthly distractions. He sent me images of great destruction and pain, and set me upon my rightous path, to guard the world from this fate, and heal the world where this was already happening. I awoke from my visions to find my mother packing a travel bag for me in the cramped, hidden room. The King was furious that I, a lowly commoner, had deflowered his daughter and was declaring it ****. There was a price of 1000 gold pieces to whomever brings me to him alive to face his justice. My mother and I said our goodbyes and she handed me a sword, the first time I had ever held one, and that night I disappeared from town. For ten years now I have wandered from town to town, village to village, farm to farm, following the visions granted me by Valandras, going where he sent me. Sometimes it was to join a militia to help defend a small village from goblin raiders, sometimes it was as simple as healing a small child in a remote farmstead. Along the way though I have walked the path of Lathander as related to me by Valandras' visions. I have learned to wield and care for the sword my mother gave me, my arms have grown strong and my endurance has grown as I have walked many miles, and faced many dangers, but through it all I have made many friends, that has always been easy for me. King Garek's men have always hunted me so I have never been able to settle down or stay in one place for long. Now I find myself here, where my visions have led me, visions that tell me everything I have faced this far was merely to prepare me for what is to come.
We are a group of nerdy friends that have played different games throughout our entire lives that have now branched off to pursue our different trades in the real life but as it came to be we started to play D&D together and we started out with some small adventures to train the games mechanics and rules but now we have come to the beginning of our first big campaign so we had a deadline today to create our characters.
So with this said i am fresh off the boat in the D&D world and community but as i got a genuine interest in open world RPGs i came to love D&D aswell, so ill present to you my Mercenary born Elf. keep in mind that i tried to mix real world events, groups and tried staying true to dates and the history overall, but i can have mixed some things that necessarily doesnt mix well together or not at all but try to not lynch me for my wrong doings.
Immensive and immersive is the style i like to go, i know i lack some commas in the text but i have concentrated at creating a good backstory and gave less thought to exact grammar and punctuation, the backstory is told through my characters journal that he keeps on him at all time.
-Irasil, The son of Rathal Cranan and Ilyrana Cranan-
"The thundering footsteps of a legion marching and the rumbling sounds of the caravans rounded wheels hitting stones and patches of hardened mud is the first thing i remember coming into this world."
"Life went on as life goes on as a young elf sprout running around in the camps playing with the different soldiers wooden shields and their varying sorts of arms."
"shortly after my fifteenth full nature cycle Rathal, my father made me a wooden bow and gave me two short swords that seemed like swords for my size at the time, both swords and the bow had elven inscriptions, the swords saying "Gûd daedheloth" meaning "Foe of the great-fear" in common and etched into the bow filled with golden metal saying "Aith heleg nín i orch gostatha; Nin cíniel na nguruthos Hon ess nín istatha: Irasil" meaning "The darkness will fear my quiver and bow; When he sees me, in fear of death he will know my name: Irasil" in common."
"After giving me the swords and bow Rathal spoke to me in a unusually low tone saying "Son, today your journey to adulthood begins, we live a hard but well earned life together with the Mindulgulph company and you will start training with them to hone your elven ancestry, me and Ilyrana will teach you together with the company how to live as one with nature and death"
"The passing fiftheen year until my thirtieth nature cycle i trained, lived, followed on missions, studied my ancestry and deep history of the elven kingdoms and passed conflicts, i took part in the study of the Underdark in the Eastern Shaar and learned the ways of the elven hunters together with Rathal."
"Following a conversation between Gayrlana, Rathal and Ilyrana we parted ways with the Mindulgulph company in good terms to travel the lands to join The Agency mercenaries in Evereska to pursue a deeper knowledge about the natural world and pay honor to Solonor Thelandirat through the hund for dark monsters"
"Time´s hourglass turned and we get from 1368dr to around 1405dr, after roaming many full cycles out in the wild landscape of Faerûn doing mercenary jobs, hunting dark creatures and getting deeper and deeper into the Western Heartlands we set camp in the outskirts of Baldur´s Gate"
"Before the nightfall Rathal sat down next to me by the fire and started talking in a tone i only faintly recognised him using only once before, "Irasil, before leaving Rucien-xan me and Ilyrana took an oath to infiltrate the material plane to pursue and hunt down all threats to the Rucien-xan empire and nature itself, this pledge will pass on to you when you reach adulthood, your own journey will begin with a pilgrimage back to the Rucien-Xan to pledge your oath to the royal family, but just remember son, this is an oath that we will die to uphold and keep secret to any other race". "With a understanding but worrying face i only replied, "i understand father" and sharpened my eyes at the inscriptions on my shortswords and bow and began to understand why my family of three elves chose a solitary life away from the other elven races and towns we have passed during the seasons passed"
"during the cover of night our camp was attacked by a small pack of the Blacktalons mercenaries, everything went from a serene full moon night to a full out skirmish between the two companies, during the fighting me and Ilyrana backed off to the outer tents and see Zadicus Trevils the Agencys bladesinger ambushing Rathal striking a mortal wound to his chest, it was clear for The Agency now that we were betrayed, my father on his knees, grabbing the top of his sword he held his balance, he looked up at the moon and screamed "The light of the full moon is here to fullfill my oath, nature accept my body" and as he finished Zadicus pushed his sword straight into Rathals heart with me screaming in the background being pulled away into the darkness by Ilyrana."
"The sand of the hourglass turned, me and my mother sought shelter in the slums of Baldur´s gate and lived off contracts connected to the thieves guild operating out of the slums, thieving and living through any means we could survive and gather money to travel to the fabled Evereska forest to other elf-kin, around the year 1406dr, Ilyrana simply dissapeared one day without any trace or word told to me, after searching the slums and talking to almost every race i could find the only lead that could say anything was one name "Xanathar's Thieves" and after some more persuading and talking i got to know that the Xanathars operated mainly out of the Sword coast, but on my name i only had my mother possessions and my own which was made out mostly of my fathers gifts to me that i never part with and some gold coins so without any means to travel to distant regions i sold everything my mother owned and everything except the clothes, my swords and bow to be able to pursue the journey to Evereska forest"
"One year passed and i made my journey to the forest of Evereska living off the nature blending and living as one as my father taught me, the fate of my parents rested in the hands of the gods and the seclusion from other races living deep in the woods gave me serenity and during the journey to Evereska i fell deeply in love with nature and the elven way of my family to live off the lands, protecting it and living to serve the elven royal family grew in my head"
"With dark thoughts about my familys fate i was at last drawn to enter the fabled city of Evereska to work my way up the chain of the mercenary trade again to be able to serve my elven heritage and oath by taking the pillgrimage back to the Rucien-xan, i shortly after some months doing freelance contracts got into contact with a company that served the Evereska city with the same ideals as my own oath hunting for the darkness threatening elven race called "The Silent Rain Mercenaries", life went from a poor solitary situation to serving in a elite force infiltrating different places of the world to fight back at the enemies of the elven empire and it´s nature"
"The Silent Rain kept working relentlessly against the enemies of the empire and did whatever it took to eradicate them, The Silent Rain worked without a moral compass and without remorse to work it´s way to be the utter most elite elven force in the known worlds, as a only elven company we outlived most of the worlds known companies acting from 1407dr to 1482dr." "The Silent Rain had set camp back at the famous city Baldur´s gate to set a meeting with emissaries from Rucien-Xan, during talks with the emissaries the roads of Baldur´s Gate sprang to panic as screaming voices was heard into the small inn room, we moved closer to the streets and started hearing "Bhaal, The Lord of Murder has come back!", to forward events to make this entry shorter we had witnessed the events after the murder of Abdel Adrian and the start of the Second Sundering time, The Silent Rain disbanded after decisions from the emissaries that the different elven kingdoms needed all their infiltrated mercenaries to come home, and thus the three cycle long pilgrimage back to the only fabled city Rucien-Xan began for me and their emissaries"
"1482dr passed to 1485dr, with news during our travels about the clashing of gods, chosen beeing manipulated by gods, monster armies together with fanatics in the Material plane we passed the gates of The Rucien-Xan capital worn down from different events during the journey ranging from fanatical believers of the gods fighting wars to lurking monsters in the darkness of night, we lost several people to the events that now rests as one with nature."
"The Second Sundering was coined as a name of the events happening after studies showed that the second and the first sundering was connected, almost all elf kind had retreated back to their capitals and planes to protect the already slowly vanishing elven heritage, i was introduced to the royal family of the Xan and was to present my journal to them and re-live the events that took place during my life in service of the royals through my family, two years passed and from the introduction a handfull of ex-mercenary born elves with the wast experience of several human lives was chosen to create a infiltrating black ops group that acted on the behalf of the royal family of Rucien-Xan in the different planes of the known worlds."
"The Order of Xan was thus born and i was chosen to roam the Material plane acting as infiltrator of different levels of society, protector of nature and the elven heritage, legendary and fabled animals and to strike at darkness wherever i could find it may it be through mercenary companies, big legions of war or small adventure groups, we live by the oath and die by the oath, exactly as my father said..."
"the pilgrimage out of Rucien-Xan and our plane took me to the elven city of Cormyr during the Second Sundering event year 1487dr to aide the local lords to fight the agents of shar to disrupt the creation of a new shadow weave and to stop the ORder of the Blue Fire before they created a new Spellplauge"
"After a successful service for the Cormyr empire and after the end of the second sundering events i chose to journey to the country of Faerûn after a rumor that the Xanathar´s Thieves Guild have resurfaced and the memories of my long gone mother flooded my thoughts and my blood screamed for revenge and after a year of travel i stand here outside the gates of Neverwinter with bloodthirsty thoughts of revenge making my whole body tremor..."
Howdy y'all, check out this backstory! Would love some feedback/suggestions. I'm super into lore-accurate storylines and like to have tie-ins that occur throughout the campaign. This specific campaign is set to start next Friday. Enjoy!
Legar Maka: The Shadow of an Outcast
Born in the rolling hills of the Dessarin Valley, Legar Maka was brought into this world unlike any other Orc. The Iceshield orc tribe were a proud people who hunted and lived in the lands that bordered The High Forrest. One summers eve many moons ago, their settlement of Fha’Gith (meaning The Great Greenery) was invaded by Uthgardt barbarians of the Tree Ghost Tribe that lived deep in The High Forest. This age-old feud between the Tree Ghost Tribe and Iceshield orcs had endured for ages, however this attack was different. The shamans of Tree Ghost tribe accompanied the warriors in this attack and had strategically coordinated the assault to happen while the Iceshield orc males were away on a hunt.
The assault initiated and orc blood was spilt. The tribe was nearly extinguished by the Uthgardt barbarians, when in the final moments the men returned; only to find most of the women and children slain. One female orc, Kygar, was among the surviving women however she was not unscathed. She took shelter within her home and attempted to protect her son, Tordak, but as the raid ensued and an elvin shaman from the Tree Ghost Tribe entered her home. He murdered her son and raped the defenseless orc woman, and then managed to escape with the rest of the Tree Ghost Tribe.
Kygar’s husband perished in the defense of Fha’Gith and she was left impregnated with the half-orc bastard child to the elvin shaman. Ashamed and terrified, she kept the child a secret and thus Legar was born in secrecy. Kygar had plans to murder the half-orc child as soon as he was born, knowing that he would be discovered to be the bastard of the Ghost Tree Tribe. On the day that Legar was born he came out stone cold. With his eyes, pitch black orbs, the child peered into his mother’s eyes, and she noticed that he contained no obvious elvin features other than being slightly smaller than a normal orc child. Suddenly the child’s pupil-less black eyes subsisted and transformed into a beautiful misty grey, unlike anything Kygar has ever seen before. Kygar immediately fell in love with the peculiar child and decided to raise him, giving him the same name as her last husband. She knew there was something special about this half-orc.
Legar grew up much smaller and weaker than his fellow orcs, however something was very different about this young orc. Whereas all orcs are warm bodied creatures, Legar’s skin is always icy cold to the touch. He also had a knack for controlling and manipulating the darkness around him. His mother never told him of his true father, so he grew up always thinking that he carried the same name as his true birthright father. Legar’s knack for his ability to perform shadowy cantrips led him into an apprenticeship of the tribe’s elder shaman Morgo’dan. Legar studied and trained under his new master for the better part of two decades, learning how to harness and control the magic in the world around him and commune with the ancient spirits of his tribe.
Legar never had a problem with harnessing the magic within the elements, however the ancient spirits were often very quiet, and seldomly spoke to him. This concerned Morgo’dan and always made him very suspicious of his young apprentice. As the years pasted, Legar grew close to Morgo’dan, looking up to him as the missing father figure in his life. The day finally came for the ritual of Legar’s Shamanistic Ascension; the day he officially becomes shaman of the tribe. During the ritual, everything went according as planned and as the elements coalesced into their physical forms… it happened…
The darkness that Legar was born of, the shadows his mother saw in his eyes the day he was born was finally to transcend into their truest form. The shadows leaped from Legar’s body and fused into a humanoid figure. With the surrounding elementals in their physical forms, and the other shamans of the tribe gathered around, everyone stood in silence when suddenly the dark figure lashed out, casting all of the elemental forms into a different plane of existence. As the battle ensued Legar hovered there, levitating in the air in a catatonic state with his eyes blackened. The tribe’s shamans stood there in awe, not knowing what to do, if there was even anything they could do.
The shamans attempted to attack the shadowy monstrosity, and they too were banished to the extradimensional plane. The only one left, Morgo’dan, went for Legar’s body, hoping to dispel the trance his apprentice was in. As soon as he was close enough and touched his ally, the shadowy figure dissipated and shot back into Legar. The light returned back into his eyes and he fell in Morgo’dan’s arms. As Legar looked at Morgo’dan who was now holding his body, looking at him with sheer horror, there was a brief moment of reprieve. All of a sudden on sheer impulse a shroud of pure darkness engulfed the both of them. Legar faded from consciousness and fell into a trance.
He was then brought to see the vision of his true contraception many years before. After the memory transpired and passed, he found himself in his physical form once again but now he was standing on water. Surrounded by open nothingness. He turned to see the dark shadowy figure, floating above the water. The figure raised its shadowy arms out to its side, and with a clap, flames immediately sprang out from around Legar’s dark passenger and engulfed him in the blink of an eye. Darkness took him once again.
Legar awoke, lying next to his bloodied, burnt master. Other tribesmen now gathered around the two. He had no idea what the others had seen, or the events that had transpired that led to the demise of his dearest friend. There was nothing but a ring of shadow and flame around spread around the two, indicating that this was a product of his own doing.
Legar had been an outcast his entire life, however he thought he found his place among the shamans of the Iceshield Tribe. He was wrong. Detained, beaten, tortured. Imprisoned for nearly a decade, the orcs kept Legar barely alive but still making sure that he serves his life sentence for murder of the tribes High Shaman, Morgo’dan. Legar was often forced to accompany trips to the Greypeak Mountains with the hill giants of Grudd Haug to capture and bring back unsuspecting prey. This was customary of the Iceshield Tribe, as tribute for the tenuous alliance form between the orcs and the hill giant chief Guh.
Legar was left with truly nothing. His mother, Ky’gar, was murdered for giving birth to “this evil abomination” and was he abandoned by the few whom were close to him. Even his dark passenger seemingly left him throughout this period of time. All he had to hang on to was the hatred he had for this dark passenger and the elf who cursed him from the beginning; his birth father.
Solid backstory, good material for a DM to work with and a very interesting character to play. Will he give in to his dark side, or will he fight this shadow and subjugate it to protect those around him. Who was the mysterious father and was he even an elf at all or some other magical creature in disguise. Will he seek vengeance against the tribe that destroyed his home on the day of his conception or seek to form new bonds of alliance. STAY TUNED! I really like it.
"Where words fail, swords prevail. Where blood is spilled, my cup is filled" -Cartaphilus
"I have found the answer to the meaning of life. You ask me what the answer is? You already know what the answer to life is. You fear it more than the strike of a viper, the ravages of disease, the ire of a lover. The answer is always death. But death is a gentle mistress with a sweet embrace, and you owe her a debt of restitution. Life is not a gift, it is a loan."
Alright, I've never written this background down in its entirety before (or maybe I have and I've just forgotten that I did) so enjoy the tale of Whip, the tiefling monk.
Whip is an oddity. Although his body is a tiefling's now, it was...something else, probably human. His parents were distant relatives of a noble, which meant very little, but they had a warm, welcoming house in a small village. Things were pretty great, but a famine struck the land when Whip was a child. Banding together for the community, the family foraged for mushrooms and herbs when food supplies became low. On one such trip, they were captured by a group of cultists who were led by a tiefling.
Bound to a tree stump, the boy could do nothing but watch as his parents were slaughtered and his body began to change from its previous form to a tiefling, while the cult leader began to change into a human.
As the terrified boy looked over at his father, he saw the man's lips utter the word, 'run' before the last of the life drained from him. Breaking free of his bonds with a power he never knew that he had, he ran off into the woods, further and further from civilization, until he met a group of spider monkeys. Unable to speak out of fear and trauma, the boy became feral, living as part of the troop and serving as their protector against the local orc population. This continued for several years, until he was captured by a cruel circus ringmaster, who basically trapped him with food, cheap wine and a net. Confined to a cage, he travelled the length and breadth of Faerun as a sideshow attraction.
This continued for a while, until a swordsman and his wife happened to see him as they were shopping for supplies one day. Unable to tolerate the cruelty that the boy was enduring, they hatched a plot to rescue him under the cover of darkness. Carefully, they snuck through the circus, freeing attractions as they went. When they made it to the boy's cage, they were surprised to find him attempting his own escape. After breaking the boy's chains, the swordsman and his wife took the boy to their secluded shack in the forest. When they asked him his name, all he could say was 'whip,' which is the name he still bears to this day.
As time passed, Whip learned many things. How to walk like a humanoid, how to use a knife and fork to eat, why throwing your poop is rude and so on and so forth. He learned quickly, but he still suffered from horrible dreams that left him thrashing wildly at night. His new mother, who had spent a great deal of time in a monastery when she was a child, offered to take him to the monks, in hope that they would be able to soothe his heart more than she and the swordsman had been able to. With no other option, the three left their home (which had become larger over time) and headed for the monastery, where Whip was welcomed warmly. As luck would have it, the monastery had many trees, which made him think of home.
As Whip became more skilled in the martial arts, he became more articulate. Unfortunately, his dreams persisted. There were still the traumatic past dreams, but now he was dreaming of something bad that was coming for him. He didn't know what it was, but he felt it was right to leave his family and the monks behind to seek it out. After saying his goodbyes, Whip left the monastery in search of this new threat so that he can defeat it before it harms anyone he cares about.
Side note: he often slips between speaking common and infernal without realizing it.
Thank you my friend!!! These are literally the exact same questions I was asking myself while writing this.
This character will be introduced half-way through the 1st session; the party will find him chained up. We are starting this campaign at 3rd level, and I am actually the main DM however we will be rotating DM's throughout the campaign! I'm big into backstories and plot hooks like this so I reaaaaaaally hope the party picks up on it.
Thanks again for the feedback!
Hi everyone. I only got into d&d a year ago and dove straight in as a DM. Shortly afterwards one of my players invited me to join his game as a player.
I thought it’d be cool to play as an earlier version of one of the NPC’s I’d created. In my game it was the captain of bunch of pirates called ‘The Bilge rats’.
He was a wereshark and had intimidated a group of wererats to be his crew. So in my friends game I decided to do a younger version of that character before he went all cruel.
His name is Furble. A Deep Gnome Level 6 Barbarian with a sailors background.
Furble hated the Underdark. It was claustrophobic, dank, dark and too hot at times. When old enough he went to the surface and found the ocean.
It was the complete opposite to the Underdark. He soon found his dark vision gave him an advantage to see in the dark depths of the ocean. His ability to hide in rocky terrain on the seabed (like coral) helped avoid predators. A captain hired him for those skills and he became adept at searching underwater shipwrecks.
He learnt many skills over the years from passengers, crew mates and travelling around the coasts. He was taught how to commune with animals and see through their eyes.
He put this skill to good use by regularly using a Lobster he started training. He gave it the name ‘silky’ and it helped him explore shipwrecks. Accessing areas Furble couldn’t and retrieving even more treasures. Furble started to follow the path of the Totem warrior. Taking on the aspect of a tiger shark.
His captain asked him to assist a group of adventurers (introduction to my friends game) and after that quest Furble decided to join them for a while.
While adventuring with this group he was bitten by a were-shark. Currently he is stubbornly fighting his primal instincts and determined this lycanthropy curse will make him a stronger fighter. Little does he know it will one day lead him down a path to become vicious, cruel and prey on the weak.
I even cosplay him at some games!
Sorry, I know this is mildly off-topic, but wasn't the option to read other player's character sheets added not long ago? If people have added their backstories to their character sheets, how would one go about looking at them?
"The Epic Level Handbook wasn't that bad, guys.
Guys, pls."
Saqari was firstborn to Ilitar and Hinaria Oonayak of the clan, Oridiathas in the Cloak Wood, south of Baldur's Gate. The Oridiathas clan are considered patrons of the cult of Shadow Druids.
The Shadow Druids are an active druidic cult which operates along the Sword Coast and Amn and which believes that nature should drive out civilization with violence.
All firstborn children of the Oridiathus clan are brought, at birth, to the Monks of the Windrock along the peninsula to the southwest of the Cloak Wood. Here they are trained in the arts of self-defense and combat, to one day accompany a druidic shadarien. A shadarien consists of a senior druid, 3 druidic acolytes, a Fist of the Rock and up to a dozen lesser monks.
Saqari accompanied her shadarien on training missions into the Cloak Wood many times. In one training mission, three of her brothers and her got separated from the main shadarien while scouting through a draw leading to the top of a wooded hilltop. Here they stumbled upon an owlbear. Though they fought bravely, her three companions perished and she was grievously injured. A long scar in the shape of a crescent remains hidden above her left kidney. Despite this, they had killed the owlbear. When she was being tended to, their healer found a claw of the owlbear within her wound. She wears this as a trophy, around her neck on a piece of sturdy twine, but hides it in her cleavage and under her shirt.
After the battle and after she gained the rank of novice she was assigned to a shadarien that was responsible for patrolling the Forest of Wyrms. Many times the shadarien attacked, harassed and drove off loggers and hunters from within the forest. It was here that Saqari met a wererat brigand from the nearby village of Soubar named Arias Bruthel. Arias was the charismatic lieutenant of a band of brigands and ruffians known as the Caravaneers whose leader was oft-rumored to be an illithid. As part of her duties, the leader of her shadrien had Saqari infiltrate the Caravaneers to find it's weaknesses. Saqari took to her new-found duty with relish, but soon fell in love with the handsome Arias.
Torn between her lover and her oath bound duty, Saqari betrayed her shadarien to Arias and a plot to not only destroy her shadarien ensued, but also to overthrow the Caravaneer's leader. This leader, however, did not attain his position by being stupid. In one rendezvous with Saqari, the leader sent a doppelganger spy cloaked in the persona of Arias to meet with Saqari, while Arias was busy raiding a spice caravan to the north.
A few weeks later, the plan unfolded, but not the way the two lovers had anticipated. Constantly harassed by the shadarien, the Caravaneers looked upon their carefully constructed ambush as a means to finally dispose of the shadarien for good. As the ambush unfolded, it became apparent to the shadarien's Fist of the Rock that Saqari had betrayed them. As he charged towards Saqari, Arias met him in mortal combat. The two fought each other, while Saqari and her new brethren cut down most of the shadarien. Only, Arias and Saqari had even bigger plans. From the sky streaked a pair of green dragons set on destroying both the shadarien and the leadership of the Caravaneers. Saqari and Arias had met the pair a month earlier. The village of Soubar and the constant logger presence had kept the green dragons on the eastern edge of the forest. Saqari and Arias had made a bargain with them. Should they help them destroy the shadarien and the Caravaneer's leaderhsip, they would keep loggers from the forest as well as adventurers from the village. In return, the green dragons would get control of the whole of the Forest of Wyrms.
With their plans intact, the destruction of the shadarien and the leaderhsip of the Caravaneers was complete. With such powerful allies, the rest of the Caravaneers acquiesced to the leadership of Arias and Saqari. For months, the two planned raids of caravans, merchants and the surrounding countryside. Loggers were driven out and the village became a haven for all sorts of cutthroats, ruffians and ne'er-do-wells.
That was until the Shadow Druids sent three full shadariens led by a Ranger Knight by the name of Prialus of the Redwoods to Soubar. Overwhelmed, Arias and the Caravaneers were wiped out to a man, while the village was razed and all of its inhabitants slain. Saqari, however, witnessed the entirety of the slaughter from the edge of a stand of trees upon a hillock overlooking the town from the north. Powerless to stop the carnage, she swore an oath to destroy the Shadow Druids. She waited a month to approach the remains of the village of Soubar. Nothing remained, except a simple key carved of alabaster that had belonged to Arias that he had kept hidden behind a loose stone of the village well. What was it that Arias had told her about the false bottom of the chest in the Green Suite of the Sleeping Snake tavern........?
Just reworked a backstory for a character I have yet to play. Now that she doesn't have a difficult gameplay gimmick and is, instead, a normal character, I felt she needed a more thought out back story. It's still generalized because I haven't found a group yet to play with, so, sorry no specifics on locations or connected NPCs.
The spoiler contains the backstory for Svelt, my tiefling warlock I wanna run some day...
Svelt was the only tiefling born to a family of humans. She grew up with them in a small farming community just north of a major river. Her life has not been without pain however. She never knew her mother, and both the family she grew up with, as well as the community that raised her, frequently bullied her for her demonic heritage.
One fateful day, she'd had enough. She lashed out at her tormentors, only to be struck down and beaten until she was unconscious. She awoke later, in the forest near her home. Face to face with a devil, disguised as a wealthy gentleman. He claimed to have done her a great deed, and offered her his power and continued support- for a price. "Something important," or so he claimed. Unable to fully comprehend the size of the deal, she sheepishly accepted.
She later returned to her village to find it in ruins, bodies littering the streets. Perhaps this is the deed her patron spoke of? Either way, she's had nightmares about it ever since...
It's simple, but, I think it'll get the job done.
Check out my art and miniatures!
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I quite like that! It gives a lot to build on and your devil patron will doubtless appear now and again, as your DM wills it.
Tarik Blackstone; a half-elf arcane trickster. Hope to use this one in a session soon.
Born to the not-so-affluent life of his mother's Elven heritage, Tarik Blackstone inherited his father's proud nature while the grace and cautiousness of his Elven mother Tal'en. Though his mother is from a well-to-do family in the woods of Galorum, his father was more of a merchant and has dealt with the elves of the woods for a majority of his life. However, Tarik's father Rikos stumbled upon a strange coup rising in the Elven city. Begging his wife to leave, she couldn't; her family has always lived in these woods and will continue to do so. It wasn't long before the coup was more than just a coup.
Several drows took over the city from within and siezed the throne from its rightful rulers. Realizing that her husband was telling the truth, Tal'en Blackstone took her children and sent them off to their father. Her business in the city remained unfinished; her fate remains unknown.
After rising in the ranks of his father's hometown soldier unit, Tarik has always wondered what had happened back in Galorum. Using his natural inquisitive nature, he left the safety of his father's business and began to hone his investigative skills by sticking to the shadows. His arrival in Galorum had to wait; several towns have asked of his natural detective skills to discover the horrors of their streets. Naturally, Tarik knew his skills need to be top notch before he can reach the home of his Elven mother.
Here is a backstory for my first ever DnD character, Gaius Cayden Antonius. Warning, it's a big one but with lots of detail. Enjoy!
Gaius Antonius
“Treat people how you think they’d treat you.”
- Annalise Belmont-Toth Antonius
Born into the upper class and ever famous Antonius family, Gaius Cayden Antonius was expected to understand swordsmanship from the moment he first gripped a blade. His father, Thomas Antonius, served as a personal guard to King Titus, the monarch of his region and the king of the Kingdom of Tohklai. While busy with his duties as a guard, Thomas still always made time to teach Gaius everything he could. Anything from the noble art of fencing to the arts his mother never actually new about (jokes, pickpocketing, and card tricks), Gaius soaked it up like a sponge. His mother Annalise was everything Gaius could have asked for in a parent. Always by his side, always helpful, and most importantly always loving. No matter how many times Gaius got into trouble, Annalise was always by his side with a smooth way out and quote to remember.
By age 10, Gaius was keeping pace with soldiers twice his age. While he was not quite big enough to reasonably best any of them in an official sparring match, it was clear that he was making remarkable improvements. By age 13, he was trumping all but the kingdoms finest in sparring duels. Near impossible to hit and never missing a strike himself, Gaius made a name for himself amongst the guards of Tohklai. Making a living on the side by gambling with loaded dice and marked cards, Gaius was able to not only learn games of coin, but ultimately control them in such a way that his victims never knew they were losing until Gaius was holding every coin at the table. While this admittedly was not the most honest or the most necessary way of living, Gaius thoroughly enjoyed the games that his played. He even managed to hustle a traveling tamer out of a baby weasel, which he promptly named Pondo.
By age 16, Gaius was formally accepted into the Noble Guard, working alongside his father in direct defense of the King Titus. His speed and mastery of the blade was unbelievable. Over the years, everyone in the kingdom came to love Gaius. “The Fleetest of the Fleet” or “The Dancing Hornet”, Gaius accumulated a multitude of nicknames each more ridiculous than the last. It was quite hard not to with how impressive his mastery of many types of blades had advanced. From Scimitars to Fencing blades and Short swords to the occasional Bastard blade, Gaius’s form was impeccable. So much so that he became known for creating his own form he coined as “The Dancing Weasel” iconically named after his love and fascination for his pet weasel. Though the fighting style was primarily composed of feints and lunges and frequently left Gaius open for direct strikes, the boy never allowed an adversary to land a blow to his body (mainly to protect the weasel that essentially lived in his clothes). The kingdom’s best would be left defeated and aggravated after being beaten by a young man who appeared to be paying more attention to the weasel in his hood than the duel at hand. Despite the comical titles and bouts, the Kingdom was in a tense state of affairs with possible siege. With Thomas being Titus’s personal guard, he was available to spend less and less time with Gaius. For two years, Gaius recalls only seeing his father for a couple hours a week.
During this time, Gaius honed his skills as a gambler. Through this, he was able to buy his mother wonderful and exotic gifts from areas throughout all of Tohklai. While there were some close encounters, no one was ever able to find out how Gaius was able to dominate the gambling scene in every establishment. Spending a lot of time in taverns and bars of the such, he was able to make many connections with the lower-level districts in the kingdoms. The noble families weren’t exactly revered in Tohklai, but there wasn’t a soul in the city that wouldn’t crack a smile at the mention of Gaius Cayden Antonius. He was a noble, yes, but he never let that stop him from bringing himself to even the level of the street rats and learning all there was to learn about his kingdom.
Many a time, Gaius would find himself taking up odd jobs to take down thieves and other minor criminals in the lower districts. Tohklai held a strong legal system, and the punishment for many crimes was death. Thievery especially, since Tohklai promoted strong bonds within households, communities, and districts. Gaius was no stranger to a kill, as he had been on a campaign to retrieve a kidnapped girl of Tohklai from a tribe of Orcs. Gaius was paraded for how many thieves and bandits he had cut down for picking on the pockets of the poorest of the poor, and before he hit adulthood, he found more praise in the districts outside his own due to his father’s busy schedule.
As his 18th birthday rolled around, Gaius was surprised to wake up to his father being home. On the kitchen table sat a case engraved with the Antonius family crest with a handle with equally impressive craftsmanship. Thomas stood up and smiled a familiar smile, only seen before in when Gaius was young. Thomas said “We have a lot to do. Come on.” and snatched up the case as he moved to the door. Gaius looked confused, but nonetheless grabbed his bag and followed his father as Pondo scurried up his leg and into his jacket’s hood. The two walked all the way up to the castle at the top of their Kingdom Tohklai and took a stone path out of a rarely used gate on the north wall. Following this path took them to the monk’s temple that resided far up the mountain side adjoining their kingdom. Once they reached the base of the temple, Thomas turned and looked Gaius in the eyes.
“25 years ago, my father took me here taught me how to do something that I will now teach you.” His father pulled out the case, unfastened the locks, and turned it around to face him. In front of Gaius, cradled in purple velvet casing and fine leather straps, was a revolver made from a metal Gaius couldn’t even recognize and engraved with the mastery that only a Dwarven Smith master could accomplish. His eyes grew wide as he stared as the single most expensive thing he’d ever been so close to. “Let’s see if it still fires as well as it used to, eh?”
For the rest of the day, up until dusk threatened the horizon, Gaius fired round after round into trees and makeshift targets. At first, his aim was sloppy. The recoil startled him for the first several rounds and even once he was past the aspect of surprise, his aim was still off-centered because he had to learn to fire with his off hand. Fortunately, Thomas had brought an entire sack of ammunition. Gaius fired round after round until his fingers were black with powder and his wrist was sore from the kick of the revolver. After hours of practice, Gaius finally felt he was consistent enough to head back for the night. He was excited to get up early the next morning and spend even more time practicing his shots. That night, Gaius slept with the sidearm holstered to his belt and Pondo on his chest as usual.
Gaius awoke to a flash of light, followed immediately thereafter by an explosive. He stood up so quickly Pondo flung across the room and slid across the floor, scampering to regain balance and quickly re-stationing to Gaius’s hood. Gaius belted his rapier and bolted for the door. Once he got to the doorway, what he saw horrified him. The kingdom he’d loved and lived in, flaming under the stars. Shouts and screams and cries from the lower districts that he’d spent so much time in echoed into his ears and he watched them burn to the ground. A second volley of fireballs rocketed over the walls towards the upper districts and towards him. Gaius had made small ground before remembering to retrieve his mother. Turning around, Gaius was met with a grimly sight. His mother standing in the doorway rubbing her eyes after waking, moments before a ball of flames leveled Gaius’s house. Tears ran down Gaius’s face from the shock of watching his mother being taken from him forever in an instant. He turned and ran, overwhelmed with every emotional he’d never had, towards the castle where he knew his father would be. Pondo sat in the hood, bouncing up and down from the reckless sprinting and watching terrified and fire filled the kingdom.
“Mom....she didn’t.... why didn’t you...Mom...”
Gaius tried to relay everything he could in broken sentences to his father, but Thomas knew exactly what he was trying to say. With a sternness that Gaius had never seen, Thomas said they needed to get to Titus. Gaius wiped his tears and wiped his nose and nodded. The two gathered themselves and made way to the chamber to hold out their final duties.
The door to Titus’s chambers collapsed with a force only the intruders could cause. Orcish Barbarians, the most ruthless tribe in the region, was staring Gaius in the eyes. He felt calm. He had lost his kingdom, his home, his mother, and almost certainly his life, and yet with rapier in hand and father at his side, he felt at home again. The chieftains charged and Gaius forced himself back to reality.
War axes and broadswords made many of the confrontations simple and quick work for the Antonius duo, as heavy and two-handed weapons don’t fare well against a quicker and lighter blade. Orcs left and right fell to the swift and controlled movements of the two swordsmen. Wave after wave entered the chamber, and while the finesse and form held strong, the bodies of the guards and the father and son didn’t. Every wave brought a new death to ranks of the Noble Guard, and before long, the father and son stood as the last two. Cut and bludgeoned, Thomas stood much weaker than Gaius who was only suffering from the fatigue. As the next group of Orcs moved forward, it was clear that this would be their last stand. These Orcs not only were bigger and more heavily armored, but were each flanked by a Mastiff the size of a small bear, blood dripping from the mouths of each. The Orcs released their dogs and charged behind them, forcing Thomas to his feet and Gaius back into his stance.
His father went down faster than Gaius could understand. The Mastiff’s overwhelmed his ruined body made for a moment of realization for Gaius.
For the first time in his life, he was alone.
He assumed his most comfortable position, and began his dance of death. Whirling and parrying, deep ripostes followed by skillful disarmament, Gaius tore through every living creature in the room until only he was left standing in the hall. Gaius collapsed.
Waking up to room full of dead Orcs, dogs, and friends was not something Gaius was fond of. His happy expression drained from his face, his tidy hair side-trodden, and his only living friend still inside his hood, he made the only move he could think to make. Without thinking to check the bodies, Gaius made his way out of Castle Tohklai, to the north wall, and up the stone path...
“You shouldn’t drink so much. I’ve read it’s very bad for your body and soul” said Levi.
“whAt hAVeN’T yoU rEad..?!” slurred Gaius.
A year after the death of his family, Gaius had picked up some...unattractive habits…
After leaving his village and seeking refuge with the monks, he had found that the Orcs hadn’t only attacked his Kingdom. The floors of the temple were scattered with bodies and the walls splattered with blood. Indifferent to the sight after what he had already witnessed, Gaius hung his head and headed out into the forest to trek to the nearest village, hoping it had been spared. He made it no more than a mile into the trees before he spotted a monk, meditating on the ground. The figure was tiny, and Gaius immediately recognized it as a Halfling. He called out to him, and the monk rose with excitement at the sight of a companion. Levi had made a new best friend.
“The swaying of the boat will only throw your center of balance off more. You won’t be able to stand straight.”
“aHhh H JfkJiivvh kN gfGhH” spat Gaius as he collapsed out of his seat and onto the floor of the ship’s bar.
Levi drug Gaius back to his quarters and began meditating per usual. Gaius awoke to the sound of the ship docking and the surprising feeling of sobriety.
“I packed our things. We’re ready to go as soon as you want.”
Gaius stood up and thanked Levi with a confused nod. Grabbing their things, Gaius and Levi headed for the main deck. It had been nearly a year after leaving the port city of Crandershok on their trip to a new land.
“Take this. The money is in your name, but I’ve tucked a little extra for your friend. You two are wonderful to have on board, and my crew and I owe our lives to you many times over. The amount of times we would have been boarded if- “
“Really sir, it’s not a problem. You had a problem, and we had a solution. You gave us shelter and food and that was more than we could have asked for.”
“Just be safe. You’re young and I’d hate to hear of you being TOO reckless.” As they walked off the shipped, the captain called once more.
“Gaius!”
“Hm?”
“Go easier on the drinks. Pondo told me you were drinking again.” Rolling his eyes out of view of the captain and clearly in view of the already smirking Levi, they stepped foot from sea to land. The land of opportunities. Their opportunities. The land of Vanshire.
Relying on his acquired taste for the katana gifted to him by the captain and his adjusted Dancing Weasel, Gaius Cayden Artonius leads a for-the-people life of money, drink, and a good laugh where he can find it. Never passing the opportunity to care and maintenance his family heirloom, personally named Annalise, and striving for a new life to make his father proud of his turnout, Gaius, Pondo and his last friend Levi step off the Branded Girallon on to the Port City of Vanshire looking for a destiny neither could predict. Utilizing his skills as a swordsman and his quick wit as a “professional” gambler, Gaius plans to blaze a path and earn the riches necessary to rebuild a kingdom he once loved so very much…
This is the backstory for my undead druid.
Born on a small cluster of Islands,Neptune lived a normal life. Helping his family on the farm on one of the islands while traveling around to the other islands to sell the crops. But there were a few...quirks to his life. Most of the people on is island worshipped a god known as Hiaga known as the god of fire and/or sun and had nothing against mythological creature slaves. Neptune never liked either so he worshiped worshipped two oceanic gods,Mohei(goddess of the moon) and Vienna (goddess of water and rain). Hearing of this his parents were pissed and sent him into the army,thinking that will “cleanse” his soul of worshiping two oceanic gods and for treating the slaves as equals.
A year later,Neptune became one of the best. He was so good that he joined the Celestine,an elite group that few make it into,only 30/100,000 have ever made it in. He was also one of the smartest.One day Captain Zudnyr came up to him ording him to go to Island delta for a research project.
Once he arrived he was shocked to find the project was to research a single mermaid. Why they were researching her? Because they wanted to know how menfolk could withstand the pressure of the ocean. Neptune went up to the mermaid and she smiled the said “Hi” as if greeting an old friend. Neptune learned the mermaid’s name was Miranah but just to call her Mira. He also learned that she has been in confinement since she was 5 and she’s 21. Hearing this Neptune barged into the lead researcher’s office demanding that she bet let loose. He did this for a week before he heard that she was going to be dissected. At that point he lost it,he killed everyone involved and carried Mira to a nearby beach. All while being stabbed,cut,shot at,and poisoned by fellow researchers.
Once at the beach he set Mira down by the water and stabbed in the back by Tyen,a Celestine member. After almost getting cut in half and putting down Tyen. He sat down by a nearby rock. The last thing he was that night was Mira crying. Then he died.Neptune saw nothing but white,but as his eyes focused he saw a rabbit and an orca. At that moment he woke up,Mira was gone and he now had a pink seashell on his lap. On that day he swore to find Mira and protect her.
This is the mostly-complete backstory for my newest character, the human necro wizard Morrigan Devlin. The game doesn't start til September; once the DM gives us more details about the plot premise, I'll add/tweak the backstory to make her reason for joining the group more apparent - right now I'm just sticking with a generic reason she left home.
No one can agree on the specifics, as is often the case with family legends, but everyone knows that the goddess Wynjess - elsewhere called Wee Jas - has taken a special interest in the Devlin family.
The Devlins are an old family and a proud family, but they do not have the wealth to match their illustrious heritage. As one of the noble families on Inis Oirthir, the smallest island of Airlann, they used to have money and prestige - as attested by their large manor house that perches atop a sea cliff on the eastern edge of the island. But several generations ago calamity fell upon the Devlins: gambling debts, illness, and foul weather that destroyed their sheep and their fishing waters. Now House Devlin is slowly mouldering in the salty air, with haphazard repairs to the roof and the walls clearly visible and barely adequate.
This is what people point to when they say Wynjess cursed House Devlin.
However, the Devlin women for many generations have been noted for their exceptional intelligence, beauty, and magical acumen; whether by making canny business agreements, managing to marry a wealthy merchant, or by using novel magical techniques to bolster the meager output of their land, it is the women of House Devlin who have kept the family afloat for many years.
This is what people point to when they say Wynjess blessed House Devlin.
And then Morrigan Devlin was born, and no one was sure whether she was blessed or cursed.
Her mother, Emer, had studied the arcane arts for many years, and immediately recognized the bluish marks that covered her infant daughter’s body: they were magical runes. Morrigan was effectively a living spellbook. It was possible that the magical experiments that Emer performed while pregnant had caused this curious side effect, but no one new for sure; what was certain was that Morrigan’s unique condition did nothing to quell the rumors that swirled like bats around the Devlins.
For the first decade of Morrigan’s life, she lived with her mother and father - Conan Lynch, a doctor - in a tidy house on Inis Mor, the largest island of Airlann. But one day Conan was riding home from a patient’s house when something spooked his horse; it threw him, breaking his neck and killing him. Or at least that is what the constables concluded, as there was no one around to witness the event, and it was hours before another traveler happened upon his body.
Stricken with grief, which was compounded by the inevitable rumors that the Devlin curse had caused her husband’s death, Emer took Morrigan back to the family manor on Inis Oirthir. There, Morrigan was raised not only by her mother, but by her grandparents, a few spinster aunts, and an uncle and aunt who had children of their own. The Devlins were at this point too poor to have servants - though the tenants on their land would occasionally perform odd jobs around the house - and so each family member was expected to contribute, and to help others when needed. Family came first, always. And though Morrigan mourned the loss of her father, she found comfort knowing that the rest of her family would always come to her aid when she asked.
It was, perhaps, inevitable that Morrigan would follow in her mother’s footsteps. Emer did her best to explain to Morrigan from an early age what the marks on her body were, and why other people didn’t have them. Morrigan’s relationship with her condition varied over time - some years she was fiercely proud of them, other years she was profoundly ashamed, and some years she was a confusing mix of the two. Because of this inconstant enthusiasm, her magical scholarship was uneven, and by the time she was an adult she had mastered only a handful of spells, despite having a significant head start over most wizards. Emer, ever-patient, allowed Morrigan to set her own pace, and was always there to resume teaching when Morrigan was once again ready.
By the time Morrigan was an adult, her grandparents had passed, leaving her Uncle Alastar in charge of the family’s estate. Alastar was a genial but practical-headed man, and while he was very fond of his sister and niece, he had the entire family to look out for, and he began to feel that Morrigan could, perhaps, do more to contribute to the family’s well-being. He never gave her an ultimatum, of course - he would never be so uncouth - but he began to drop hints that Morrigan should start looking for a wealthy husband or, failing that, some other method of income. The guilt trip worked, if for no other reason than Morrigan got sick of his nagging and left the manor house to escape it.
Upon leaving the haven of House Devlin, Morrigan quickly discovered that the outside world viewed the close-knit family with suspicion; besides the rumors that they were cursed (rumors that cut deeper than Morrigan cared to admit), there were more outlandish whispers that the Devlins were a family of vampires, or that they kidnapped children to sacrifice to Wynjess, and other such poppycock. Morrigan learned to hide her markings, lest she add fuel to the fire. Still, rumors or no, the Devlins were still noble, and that afforded her some privileges that made her travels easier.
"We're the perfect combination of expendable and unkillable!"
I updated Tarmasis's story!
(Players in my campaign, please don't read this)
Tarmasis the black dragonborn, (born 17 Deepwinter - 1461 DR, Year of Three Goddesses Blessing) was once a proud member of Clan Verthicha Hesjing. He spent his years in the mountains of Tymanther hunting beside his people and creating strong ties with family and loved ones.
On the third moon of Kythorn, 1481 DR, Tarmasis stood on watch protecting the walls of his village from unknown intruders. The night was quiet other than the light banter he and Willfire, a tiefling of similar age, shared to pass the time. Suddenly out of nowhere a series of horrid blood-curdling screams came from inside the village walls, the two turned to see a white blur tearing through buildings and rending flesh and bone from familiar forms. His village was under attack and already, in an instant, so many had died. He rushed in to combat with his longsword overhead and fought until the last of his people fell. Surrounded in the corpses of his loved ones he struck the final blow upon the unknown creature, ripping the skull from its head in vengeance.
The night grew silent once more. Wounded, near death and crushed of spirit knowing all he had was lost, Tarmasis fled the bloodied husk that was once his home, never to return again. His face and half his torso torn and severed but his legs and mind still intact. Afraid to be seen by civilization, he spent the following six years in seclusion, traveling the Plaguelands, hiding from hideous mutated creatures and forgotten pilgrims, occasionally finding the misjudged comfort of shelter in the ruined city of Ormpetarr.
The years melted away as the dragonborn grew in power with his dedication to survive the horrid lands; all that were familiar to him. This natural tenant to explore places unfit for most people lead him deep in to a soft glowing cave of blue light. Before him, illuminated by cerulean glow, a large steel sword lay rested upon a rock slab. Eager to loot this prized gem he lifted it from the cold stone. A loud ringing vibrated through his mind and before him, an entity of unimaginable horror appeared. Paralyzed by fear, he stared down the devil, the unknown depths of his mind tapping in to insanity with every lingering second...until darkness.
Tarmasis opened his eyes. He stood surrounded in the same familiar vault of cavernous rock, but the comforting blue glow had diminished and fled, in its place a cacophony of rot and decay. Where there was light, there is now shadow. In front of him the same figure from before, staring strictly with piercing eyes, no clear intent to remove its gaze from the paralytic dragonborn.
What felt like an hour passed with unmoving hostility and fear, Tarmasis found the strength to step forward and approach this being. "I am nothing to you! What do you want from me?!" With no hesitation the entity responded in broken whispers, "Black dragon, who hath survived the Plaguelands, who slayed the quaggoth, brought to me by fate. I know you. Clanless, broken and alone. Seeking purpose. Take this light, the last gift of Shar. With it you will find new strength and once again return to the world of the living." The entity reached out with long fingers and hovering in his withered palm a cerulean blue flame. With nothing to lose, without hesitation, the dragonborn lurched forward and reached for the mysterious source of power.
In an instant, the air felt clear, the walls once again breathing with moss and morning dew. He had returned to his world and his old scars now healed. The entity was gone, and in its place still lay the gnarled, unsound sword. Tarmasis lifted it, weightlessly, from the ground and heard a familiar voice echo in his head, "Black dragon. I will be your hand and guide you. Listen when I whisper. Feed me when I hunger. Together we will finish what she started."
Two years passed, the black dragon and his mysterious sword traveled across Faerun with new invigorated health; cutting down those unworthy of life, who threatened settlements similar to that of his lost home, confident to never let history repeat itself.
In a warm tavern bed upon the border of the fabled Sword Coast, a restless night threw itself over the dragonborn, like stagnant pond water it sank painfully into his pores. He saw the world being destroyed by cold choking fumes, lightning storms, waves of acid, and horrible fire. It climaxed with ten evil eyes glaring down at him from the darkness. As he awoke, a familiar whisper entered his ears, wishing him towards the small town of Greenest. Without question there he traveled, another path he must take upon command of his strange dark passenger he vowed his life to so long ago.
(art by Jack Kaiser)
3D Artist - www.charliepharis.com