I'm starting my first D&D campaign and I thought it would be fun to write a backstory for my character. I'm not a great writer and I wanted a bit of feedback on what you guys think! (Please be harsh. I want to get better)
As a boy, Terry McDingle worked as a squire to Sir Herton in the hopes of one day becoming knighted. After one particularly long day at Castle Ory'th, Terry McDingle began the long journey back to his small river village of Whiteriver.
As he began the ascent to the top of the hill that separated him and the village, he began to see smoke in the air. He charged up the remaining climb, egged on by the faint sound of screams and war drums in the distance and as he reached the crest he saw the village that had been his home since his father had died burning to the ground.
He sprinted down the hill and barely escaped a fall into the deadly river trying to reach the home he had grown up in. He charged into the village passing his friends and neighbors who were fighting a losing battle with only the face of his dear mother in his mind. Pounding down the street passing body after body his only hope was to see his mother again which would come true but not in the way he wanted.
Praying to Helm that she would be OK, he rounded a corner and saw his mother lying on the ground with a hideous bandit standing over her body. In a rage Terry grabbed a one-handed axe from the body of a village guard, ran up behind the bandit, and slashed at the his head. As the man fell to his side, Terry knelt over his mother, tears falling slowly from his face. After a time he got up and examined the bleeding bandit.
Adorning his chest was crude plate male mail with the head of a one horned ox drawn onto it with charcoal. In his hand was a large mace that Terry had no real interest in, he turned his attention to the sack on the ground. Spilling out of it were swords and armour of the men the man had killed. Terry went through the armour looking for something that fits with no luck.
Looking at the body of his mother he knew he must give her body back to the earth. He grabbed a shovel from the back porch of a house, a small blanket to transport his mother, and made his way to the top of the hill. The hole he dug was not very deep but it exhausted him. From some nearby rocks he built a small grave for his mother and said a few words his church had taught him for such occasion. Once Terry had made peace with the fact his mother is with Helm now, he slowly made his way to his old home, tired and weak, praying for guidance.
Once home, Terry lit a candle over the ritual plate watching as the wax slowly fell and reflected on his younger days in the church. As a devout follower of helm, he frequently visited the church rarely missing a day. He gave offerings of food and coin, held ritual burnings, and spread the word of Helm to those who met who haven’t yet seen the light. “I was a stupid child” he thought watching as the first of the droplets of wax fall. He reached into his shirt pulling out the holy amulet he had earned when he became a full member of the church only two years ago. The amulet was only about the size of a gold piece but it was worth more to him than his life. On the front was the tiny depiction of a gauntlet with an eye pained in the palm, the holy symbol of Helm. He flipped the amulet over and looked upon the foreign words inscribed there.
“Shiro, hergo, poreno”
He had asked the priest about the words and he responded that he did not know what the words meant. Legend said that Helm’s chosen warriors would one day look at the amulet and see the words and know their meaning. Terry shook his head and placed the medallion on the table face up.
Terry looked at the candle and saw the flame had gone out. “How strange” he thought as there was not even a slight draft in the room. As he reached for the flint he noticed the wax on the plate had taken the shape of an ox with only one horn. He was astonished! It was the symbol on the bandit’s chest! On the right side of the ox was the crude shape of a one-handed axe and on the left side a drop of wax about the size of a gold piece. He looked closely at the circular drop and noticed an indentation in the center that almost looked like an eye. Terry quickly backed up and grabbed his amulet spinning it so he could read the words.
“Protector, Healer, Avenger”
Terry grabbed his pack and quickly filled it with anything he thought would be useful on his journey ahead. He snatched a cloak off the wall and left the house for what he believed would be the last time. He only had one goal now, uphold the values of Helm and bring justice onto the bandits that had ravaged his village.
Not a bad piece of writing, there are a few bits that I feel could be edited out or condensed to give it a bit more punch. Perhaps the bit about almost falling in the river and the searching through the sack for armour. However one thing that doesn’t make sense is that he passes friends and neighbors who are fighting a loosing battle and then he can drag his mothers away and burry her, return to his house etc, all without encountering any of the raiders.
You could change it to passing his friends and villagers who were fighting off the last of the raiders, or have him waiting till the raiders had left to burry his mother etc.
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I'm starting my first D&D campaign and I thought it would be fun to write a backstory for my character. I'm not a great writer and I wanted a bit of feedback on what you guys think! (Please be harsh. I want to get better)
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As a boy, Terry McDingle worked as a squire to Sir Herton in the hopes of one day becoming knighted. After one particularly long day at Castle Ory'th, Terry McDingle began the long journey back to his small river village of Whiteriver.
As he began the ascent to the top of the hill that separated him and the village, he began to see smoke in the air. He charged up the remaining climb, egged on by the faint sound of screams and war drums in the distance and as he reached the crest he saw the village that had been his home since his father had died burning to the ground.
He sprinted down the hill and barely escaped a fall into the deadly river trying to reach the home he had grown up in. He charged into the village passing his friends and neighbors who were fighting a losing battle with only the face of his dear mother in his mind. Pounding down the street passing body after body his only hope was to see his mother again which would come true but not in the way he wanted.
Praying to Helm that she would be OK, he rounded a corner and saw his mother lying on the ground with a hideous bandit standing over her body. In a rage Terry grabbed a one-handed axe from the body of a village guard, ran up behind the bandit, and slashed at the his head. As the man fell to his side, Terry knelt over his mother, tears falling slowly from his face. After a time he got up and examined the bleeding bandit.
Adorning his chest was crude plate male mail with the head of a one horned ox drawn onto it with charcoal. In his hand was a large mace that Terry had no real interest in, he turned his attention to the sack on the ground. Spilling out of it were swords and armour of the men the man had killed. Terry went through the armour looking for something that fits with no luck.
Looking at the body of his mother he knew he must give her body back to the earth. He grabbed a shovel from the back porch of a house, a small blanket to transport his mother, and made his way to the top of the hill. The hole he dug was not very deep but it exhausted him. From some nearby rocks he built a small grave for his mother and said a few words his church had taught him for such occasion. Once Terry had made peace with the fact his mother is with Helm now, he slowly made his way to his old home, tired and weak, praying for guidance.
Once home, Terry lit a candle over the ritual plate watching as the wax slowly fell and reflected on his younger days in the church. As a devout follower of helm, he frequently visited the church rarely missing a day. He gave offerings of food and coin, held ritual burnings, and spread the word of Helm to those who met who haven’t yet seen the light. “I was a stupid child” he thought watching as the first of the droplets of wax fall. He reached into his shirt pulling out the holy amulet he had earned when he became a full member of the church only two years ago. The amulet was only about the size of a gold piece but it was worth more to him than his life. On the front was the tiny depiction of a gauntlet with an eye pained in the palm, the holy symbol of Helm. He flipped the amulet over and looked upon the foreign words inscribed there.
“Shiro, hergo, poreno”
He had asked the priest about the words and he responded that he did not know what the words meant. Legend said that Helm’s chosen warriors would one day look at the amulet and see the words and know their meaning. Terry shook his head and placed the medallion on the table face up.
Terry looked at the candle and saw the flame had gone out. “How strange” he thought as there was not even a slight draft in the room. As he reached for the flint he noticed the wax on the plate had taken the shape of an ox with only one horn. He was astonished! It was the symbol on the bandit’s chest! On the right side of the ox was the crude shape of a one-handed axe and on the left side a drop of wax about the size of a gold piece. He looked closely at the circular drop and noticed an indentation in the center that almost looked like an eye. Terry quickly backed up and grabbed his amulet spinning it so he could read the words.
“Protector, Healer, Avenger”
Terry grabbed his pack and quickly filled it with anything he thought would be useful on his journey ahead. He snatched a cloak off the wall and left the house for what he believed would be the last time. He only had one goal now, uphold the values of Helm and bring justice onto the bandits that had ravaged his village.
Not a bad piece of writing, there are a few bits that I feel could be edited out or condensed to give it a bit more punch. Perhaps the bit about almost falling in the river and the searching through the sack for armour. However one thing that doesn’t make sense is that he passes friends and neighbors who are fighting a loosing battle and then he can drag his mothers away and burry her, return to his house etc, all without encountering any of the raiders.
You could change it to passing his friends and villagers who were fighting off the last of the raiders, or have him waiting till the raiders had left to burry his mother etc.