I still have dreams of the time I soared through the air on silver wings, times when the sun or moon would glitter over my silvered scales and I was free to venture over great distances. Then came the time one of my allies told me of an impending doom that would come up from the Underdark and we ventured forth in the guise of Deep Gnomes to investigate. A True Polymorph spell cast by my ally was my disguise and was my doom, she was beguiled and we were both held until her spell became permament, now I scurry on the ground, trying to find a way to undo my fate.

*Former dragon , now a deep gnome, trying to get a way to cast a level 9 True Polymorph spell to revert back to being a silver dragon.

When I crawled out of the ruins of my master’s tower I knew what I had to do, I had to find her, no matter where they had taken her. My master now being dead, and my home destroyed, I sought out others who would stand against tyranny and oppression, and joined forces with them to accomplish our goals, both various and mutual. Now I will use the lessons my late master taught me, and one day we will be reunited again.

I never knew who my father was, but he must have been from another plain because I was born… different, and people have always been more than a little afraid of me. After my mother died the rest of the villagers blamed me and drove me from town, but with nowhere to go and no one to turn to, I was forced to learn to live off the land and become self sufficient. When I found this group of strangers who needed help I almost ignored them, but I didn’t, and now they’ve taken me in as one of their own, and we travel together fighting monsters and injustice together everywhere we go.

(Either Tiefling or Aasimar, Hermit Background, Ranger or Druid)

I sought out secret knowledge and hidden power and it has driven me mad... that is my only hope. I see strings... so many strings... attached to everyone and everything...all the world's a stage. Someone... something is pulling these strings... conducting an awful puppet show... and I... I don't know what to do but sit and laugh at jokes that I don't understand.

Lil Bird man found magic and is going insane

brothers betrayed dad. used cool family sword. arrived too late to save him but dad soul in sword.

I am dead, or at least was, and I saw what my life of thievery and murder earned me. Chains. Now I am back and doing everything I can to free myself of my eternal burden.

Ain't a lot a girl from the Boonies can 'spect outta life, but i learnt me some stuff about the woods and the meadows, and done made a few animal friends.

I hear there's a good spot to pick up work guidin them merchants through the Sherwood.

Gonna have to borrow Yancy's bow, but I think I can done be some help t'them.

I heard tales of warlocks and witches; people who struck deals with powerful beings from other worlds and planes of exsistence and decided I wanted to be one of those people. I studied and researched and found a ritual and I, upon its completion, passed out from the strain. When I awoke I found a book filled with arcane formulas, glyphs, sigils and schmeatics lying next to me, so now all I have to do is decipher what they all mean.

*Not a warlock, just an Order of Scribes Wizard who thinks their awakened spell book is an otherwordly patron and maybe they are, who knows!?

During the war, I poured over maps, argued with generals, and spilled a sea of blood - my own and our enemies. After a year-long return trek, I am home and am heartbroken by what I see; wounded soldiers begging on the street, rampant poverty, oppressive local authorities, hoarding and callousness from the wealthy, and corrupt leaders who give only lip service to any of these issues if they acknowledge it at all. It was my steel that saved my people during wartime, it will save my people during times of 'peace' too.

Urban vigilante fighter.

I speak with aliens who guide me in all that I do. Others assume I'm highly religious but they are mistaking my communication device for a holy symbol. I care not for what others think, all I know is that I simply must obey the commands of those from the stars. 

hmm

Quote from DoodleCrisp >>

hmm

I don't think that's quite three sentences.

THANK GOD SOMEONE"S ON!

Quote from DoodleCrisp >>

THANK GOD SOMEONE"S ON!

Getting closer. 2 more posts and you'll get the hang of it. Remember to close your quotation marks, though.

Smart aleck. What are you even doing here? Chill.

Life, the world, all of creation, it is art. If my life is a story, and I strongly believe it is, I want it to be one worth reading. It will be a thrilling adventure where darkness is fought against, righteousness is uplifted, the innocent are watched over, and… it will be a musical. 

(Bard)

Quote from DoodleCrisp >>

Smart aleck. What are you even doing here? Chill.

 
Well, this is a thread for posting 3(ish)-sentence backstories, not just random stuff. 🤷‍♂️ This is the random stuff thread: (https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/off-topic/adohands-kitchen/166611-anything-but-the-ogl-2-0-literally-anything).

Twas in the Dark Mountains i was born, they called me the runt of the little, the small fry, and it stuck.

When I was still a young'un, a stranger came, and she did peculiar things, made fire in her hands and the stones dance -- she called them doodles.

Was years ago, now, but I recall it fondly, and that is why the call me Fry Doodle, for I can doodle with the best of them.

When the borogroves were in danger, my father entrusted me with his vorpal blade and made me swear to kill the Jabberwock... I'll never forget that beast. I should have been warned by the burbling, but it managed to ambush me as I was deep in thought near the Tumtum tree; with jaws it bit me, with claws it snatched me, and with eyes of flame it store deep into my soul. It stole my blade and gave me a nasty scar before escaping, so now I must reclaim my blade and grow strong enough to slay my foe, lest the slithy toves never gyre nor gimble again.