Ever have trouble coming up with an idea for a new character?
Ever had a great idea that you couldn't make work, abandoned, or just never got to use?
This is the thread for you!
I'm asking you to post any of your abandoned character ideas that you're willing to let someone else breath life into. The description can be as simple or detailed as you like, the only rule is that you can't be offended if someone decides to use it.
Obviously, if you borrow one of these ideas don't plagiarize it! Use it as a starting point and make it your own!
Name: Tashia (AKA Tashia "Skullbreaker," Tashia "Armripper", "Tashia the Terrible")
Species: Half-Orc
Class: Barbarian, Monk, and/or Fighter
Background: Criminal (or Gladiator)
Concept: Pit-Fighter
Backstory:
Tashia has only the vaguest recollections of the man who sold her to Davin Tull. He might have been her father, or maybe not. Nor does she remember why Tull decided to buy the emaciated Half-Orc with dirty, unkempt hair and clothes. He certainly couldn't have anticipated how willful she would be, how she'd rather endure his savage beatings than clean the stables or work in the tavern.
She might have been ten when he took her to her first pit fight, armed her with a stick, and set a feral dog on her. He thought that if she put up a good enough fight he might be able to recoup his money.
He never expected her to win.
After that, things changed. Tull stopped expecting her to do chores around the inn and she started getting enough food. After a few more fights he even got her some training. Once she reached her teens she switched from fighting animals to fighting other people, mostly in bare knuckle brawls.
That's when the guild took an interest.
Tashia isn't privy to the terms, but they made Tull an offer he couldn't refuse. She's been fighting for the guild for a few years now, mostly in blood sports, and she fully expected things to continue like that until she died in the ring. She doesn't know why they've suddenly offered her a chance at guild membership, or if earning it will equate to freedom, but what's another fight more or less?
Neni (pronounced Nen-nee) is of average height with a muscular build. Her short, straight hair is somewhere between light brown and dishwater blonde. Though only twenty, long hours working outdoors have already started to etch laugh-lines around her twinkling blue eyes. Her skin is relatively fair (though not so much as to lend itself to heavy freckling) and her cheeks are rosy from a near perpetual sunburn.
Neni wears leather shoes and a belt, woolen trousers, and a sleeveless linen tunic. A light crossbow hangs from a leather strap over her shoulder.
Personality:
Neni is good-natured and boisterous, loves friendly competition (including the occasional brawl), and tends to get bored and restless when inactive.
Character:
Neni is hard-working, honest, and dependable. She genuinely cares for all living things. Despite losing her family and her home she tends to be optimistic and upbeat, and will always try to cheer up those around her when things seem sad or grim.
Ideals: "No one's ever so bad off that they can't help someone in need."
Backstory:
Neni was the only child of the local blacksmith in a small farming community. Without an apprentice or any sons to help out, Neni went to work at her father's shop at an early age. Working the bellows, splitting wood to feed the forge, and eventually hammer hardening her own creations made Neni hearty and hale, which is probably why she survived the plague when so many others did not...
After losing her family Neni stayed on for a while, running the forge in her father's absence, until a journeyman smith and the local lord made an arrangement. Because the lease specified that use of the forge would be passed on to the eldest son, Neni had no claim to it. And, since she'd never been a formal apprentice, the guild wouldn't recognize her as a smith.
Facing pressure towards a marriage of convenience, Neni opted for a vagabond life on the open road, which has brought her to [name of town].
Sample Post:
"I've been meaning to ask, what happened here? I mean, if you don't mind me asking. It's just...well...things in Longsaddle are a bit different from home..."
Home, what does that word even mean now?
"Not that I wouldn't be happy to help but I'm not sure I'm what you're looking for. If they're looking for someone who can tend to livestock, or bend horseshoes, or drive a wagon, or even cook, then I can do that but adventuring..."
You made it this far, even when that storm washed out your camp. You can hold your own in a fight. Hadn't Pick always said he'd been an adventurer? That's how he got the money to buy the Boar & Lyre. If he can do it...
It would be nice to have a place of your own. Someplace that belongs to you, that no one can ever take away.
"I suppose it wouldn't hurt anyone to go and see," Neni says, finishing her ale, "which house is it?"
Eben Lietbur was born the son of a Baron, like his father, and his father's father, and a dozen generations before them. While not particularly prosperous, the House of Leitbur was trusted and respected and there seemed no doubt the Eben would safely follow in the footsteps of his forebears. He was away at university when the calamity fell. It most likely saved his life.
First was the drought and the bad harvest. The Leitburs had wisely made preparations to hedge against such concerns, but when the silos were opened the truth was discovered, much of the grain had been spoiled or ruined by rats.
The rats brought the plague that killed so many that winter, though the uncommon cold killed it's share as well. By the spring, it was widely accepted that the House of Lietbur and all who dwelled in its domains were cursed.
The rebellion didn't last long, as many of the Leitbur's soldiers joined the mob. Baron and Lady Leitbur were beheaded and their keep burned to the ground.
When Eben returned, he came in disguise and vowing vengeance. But, as he examined the ruins of his family home, he learned the dark truth. His parents had been conducting rituals in secret, allying themselves with a mysterious and evil power.
Since then, Eben has made it his quest to destroy the creatures of darkness, wherever he may find them...
Eben Leitbur: Standard Human/Haunted One (or Noble)/Paladin
Personality: Eben is dour and serious. Raised as the son of a Baron, he bears a strong sense of noblesse oblige. There is very little he wouldn't do to aid or protect the common folk.
Ideals: All that it takes for evil to prevail, is for good people to do nothing.
Bonds: I must protect the weak to make amends for the crimes of my family
Flaws: When dealing with the darkness, and those who would ally themselves with it, there can be no mercy.
Fears: That, in the moment of truth, I will succumb to the darkness like my parents before me.
Class: Rogue/Bard (skill monkey) or Bard/Warlock (spellcaster)
Background: Urchin (or Criminal)
Backstory:
Nave has no real memory of her family or where she came from. Her earliest recollections are living in the monastery, where harsh nuns with stern faces would beat her for the slightest transgressions. And when you're a Tiefling "devil-child", there are always transgressions to be found.
She was maybe 9 or 10 when she ran away.
The town near the monastery was large, almost but not quite a city. There were plenty of places to hide, though in later years Nave wondered if anyone from the monastery had ever bothered to come looking. Nave made her own way; begging, stealing, and always hoping it would be enough to keep her hunger at bay. As she got older, she honed and refined her craft, finding the best street performers and picking the pockets of their transfixed audiences. She even picked up some of their tricks while she was at it. Eventually, she got too well known to avoid the town guard and too old play the innocent urchin. Nave took to the road. Since then she's lived in the margins of society, making her way however she can and moving on when the opportunities dry up...
Nave cursed herself. The Infernal must have sounded like a threat because the men surrounding her paused and backed up a half-step. Good, time and distance would work to her advantage. She took stock of her situation...narrow alley, two in front, one behind...she kicked herself again mentally for falling into such a classic ambush. A rookie mistake stumbled into by overconfidence.
A spell. If she was lucky it might disable the ones to her front and buy her enough time to turn around. Nave scowled. Her magic was always a bit iffy, but it might be the only chance she had. She cast Thunderwave and for once something went right. The two to her front dropped. Nave was so amazed that she forgot about the third for a split-second, just long enough for him to thrust the dagger into her back...
Nave turned just in time and what should have been a fatal wound was reduced to a deep graze. The pain bit deep and something inside Nave took over.
She snarled the words in Infernal, a rebuke to her attacker, and his body burst into flames.
This one was loosely inspired by a much better character created by Damian_May, so all credit where it is due.
The Pyromancer (AKA, the Failed Apprentice)
Class: Warlock 3 (the Fiend/Pact of the Tome)
Backstory: Kara Bloodtome was the only child in a long line of Wizards. Unfortunately she showed no aptitude for the arcane arts, much to her parents chagrin. Desperate to impress them, she searched through the family's library in the hopes of finding some book that could help her understand and unlock her potential. From a dark and abandoned corner of the library a dusty tome seemed to call to her...
Her first successful spell set the tower alight.
The fire destroyed everything that Kara had, everything that she knew, including her family.
Only she and the book escaped.
Since then Kara's learned more about the book, and the entity trapped within it. It has continued to teacher her the magical arts in the hope that, together, they can finally set it free...
Cantrips: Control Flames, Produce Flames, Fire Bolt, Bonfire, Eldritch Blast
Here's one I've only just recently thought of, but I think works really well!
Two wonderful dwarves, Erik and Hiln Brighthelm were among those assigned to the mine near Saltmarsh when their son, Flint Brighthelm, was stolen from them in the dead of night by one of the hags that worked for Mother Nightshade. Rather than corrupt the young adult or eat him, the old hag had a moment of weakness despite herself, and against her own judgement (and Flint's curse-laden demands for her to let him go) decided to leave Flint on the outskirts of the Drowned Forest, confident that he would be finished off by the assortment of vile creatures living there.
Erik and Hiln lead a small group to rescue Flint, but by the time they got there, he was nowhere to be found. Then, they heard the sound of Dwarven cursing coming from the branches above! There were no fiendish creatures that could've placed him there, so how did he get there? Flint holds to the story that he was thinner than he is today and shimmied his way up there, but the truth is much more unusual; the usually hostile vines that wrap around almost every tree in the Drowned Forest picked him up and placed him there, letting him go without so much as a scratch
As Flint grew up, it became evident that he had a calling different to the other dwarves, one uncommon among his kind. He was not skilled with the hammer and anvil in the slightest, but he made carvings of unrivalled quality and stonework so incredible you'd swear he'd moulded it like clay with his bare hands. This was in fact the truth, but he kept this to himself, believing the others would think he had a higher calling from which his powers were meant for.
One weary day, Flint took some leave from the mine and returned to the place where he was taken to and abandoned by the hag. When he got there, everything looked normal. But there was a shimmer in the air that he could not deny, and he knew he was the cause. Before long, a pattern seemed to form itself in the ground beneath him, and at the centre lay what are now his most prized possessions: a scimitar of unrivalled workmanship, a petrified oak staff, and a mistletoe leaf encased in clear crystal.
Once he took these, all fell away from him and he found himself standing on the Elemental Plane of Earth before a massive stronghold seemingly preparing for war. Awestruck, Flint went to move closer and inspect it, but only a few steps later his feet became encased in stone. The petrification was spreading, and the last thing he saw before his eyes turned to granite was the benevolent stare of the First King.
When Flint awoke, he was back in his quarters at the mine, with all the items he had found. Much thinking later, he came to a conclusion; Flint Brighthelm, a hill dwarf, was destined to be a druid! Nature's miracle, his new belongings, the vision of the Earthen fortress and the Dawrven First King, it all made sense now. There was to be an attempt for earth to overthrow nature's delicate balance, and only one of rock and stone, a dwarf, could stop it.
By mountain's might, nature's nurture, and a bit of dwarven ingenuity, Flint Brighthelm will protect his clan and all of Dwarvenkind! Oh, and maybe the rest of the Material Plane while he's at it. He might just need some help, so now he's out looking for a group of adventurers, or just some ragtag rascals out for a scrap. And what better place to look than Saltmarsh's taverns?
Who knows, maybe ground and sky will meet in a harmonious moment of destiny! Or the two could meet when a certain overeager Tabaxi teenager accidentally spills a certain Dwarf's mead... Who knows indeed!
ADHD Aussie (17M) with too many ideas and not enough time! Always up to chat!
Disclaimer: I'm not an optimizer. If I say something that's not fine-tuned to perfection, that's on purpose. D&D isn't an online tournament, it's a TTRPG where your imagination and the DM's compliance are the limits. I don't do "metas". If I can have fun with my thematically cool and still viable (both in and out of combat) concept, I'm happy. I'm not going for optimal stats; I'm going for optimal fun.
Here's an idea I had for a character that I couldn't find a use for: The character's name is Corwin Tremayne. His backstory would run somewhere along these lines(but can be adjusted to fit the exact setting for whatever campaign decides to include him): A priest of a particular deity who eventually felt the call of his Lord to use his strength in battle. At first, Corwin thought he was to achieve this as a Paladin; however, he eventually realized that fighting as a Paladin was not what his Lord had in mind. As a result, he turned away from being a Paladin & instead focused on becoming a Fighter.
As for his Build:
Race: Human Variant
Class(s): Paladin 2 Fighter 18
Feat.: Magic Initiate(Cleric)
Spells & Cantrips: Purify Food and Drink, Guidance, Mending, Resistance, & Spare the Dying
Backstory: Edgard was raised in the prestigious Vergran manor, with his mother, father who died when Edgard was 2, and his sister. He was raised up like a typical noble, learned how to play the piano, and was quite talented at fencing. He was lectured on how to run the family trade routes, and knowledge in the political world, but when his older sister took over business part of the family, he didn’t find much to do. After talking to his family ghosts (the family spirits rest in the paintings at the manor, but also travel around quite a bit), they decided he should be the champion of the family, the first one in 4 generations, so he found his old uncle who taught him how to fence, and mastered the art of the rapier. He struck out on his own, and formed an adventuring group. After a while he realized the champions of his family name followed him around and he could summon them in battle to protect his allies, and give him strength in battle.
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Hello all,
Ever have trouble coming up with an idea for a new character?
Ever had a great idea that you couldn't make work, abandoned, or just never got to use?
This is the thread for you!
I'm asking you to post any of your abandoned character ideas that you're willing to let someone else breath life into. The description can be as simple or detailed as you like, the only rule is that you can't be offended if someone decides to use it.
Obviously, if you borrow one of these ideas don't plagiarize it! Use it as a starting point and make it your own!
First example, very thin sketch...
Tortle multiclass Artificer/Monk named Donatello
And something a bit more detailed...
Name: Tashia (AKA Tashia "Skullbreaker," Tashia "Armripper", "Tashia the Terrible")
Species: Half-Orc
Class: Barbarian, Monk, and/or Fighter
Background: Criminal (or Gladiator)
Concept: Pit-Fighter
Backstory:
Tashia has only the vaguest recollections of the man who sold her to Davin Tull. He might have been her father, or maybe not. Nor does she remember why Tull decided to buy the emaciated Half-Orc with dirty, unkempt hair and clothes. He certainly couldn't have anticipated how willful she would be, how she'd rather endure his savage beatings than clean the stables or work in the tavern.
She might have been ten when he took her to her first pit fight, armed her with a stick, and set a feral dog on her. He thought that if she put up a good enough fight he might be able to recoup his money.
He never expected her to win.
After that, things changed. Tull stopped expecting her to do chores around the inn and she started getting enough food. After a few more fights he even got her some training. Once she reached her teens she switched from fighting animals to fighting other people, mostly in bare knuckle brawls.
That's when the guild took an interest.
Tashia isn't privy to the terms, but they made Tull an offer he couldn't refuse. She's been fighting for the guild for a few years now, mostly in blood sports, and she fully expected things to continue like that until she died in the ring. She doesn't know why they've suddenly offered her a chance at guild membership, or if earning it will equate to freedom, but what's another fight more or less?
Name: Coenen "Neni" Smythsdotter
Race/Subrace: Variant Human (Grappler Feat)
Class/Subclass: Monk (Multiclassing into Fighter)
Background: Folk Hero
Physical Appearance:
Neni (pronounced Nen-nee) is of average height with a muscular build. Her short, straight hair is somewhere between light brown and dishwater blonde. Though only twenty, long hours working outdoors have already started to etch laugh-lines around her twinkling blue eyes. Her skin is relatively fair (though not so much as to lend itself to heavy freckling) and her cheeks are rosy from a near perpetual sunburn.
Neni wears leather shoes and a belt, woolen trousers, and a sleeveless linen tunic. A light crossbow hangs from a leather strap over her shoulder.
Personality:
Neni is good-natured and boisterous, loves friendly competition (including the occasional brawl), and tends to get bored and restless when inactive.
Character:
Neni is hard-working, honest, and dependable. She genuinely cares for all living things. Despite losing her family and her home she tends to be optimistic and upbeat, and will always try to cheer up those around her when things seem sad or grim.
Ideals: "No one's ever so bad off that they can't help someone in need."
Backstory:
Neni was the only child of the local blacksmith in a small farming community. Without an apprentice or any sons to help out, Neni went to work at her father's shop at an early age. Working the bellows, splitting wood to feed the forge, and eventually hammer hardening her own creations made Neni hearty and hale, which is probably why she survived the plague when so many others did not...
After losing her family Neni stayed on for a while, running the forge in her father's absence, until a journeyman smith and the local lord made an arrangement. Because the lease specified that use of the forge would be passed on to the eldest son, Neni had no claim to it. And, since she'd never been a formal apprentice, the guild wouldn't recognize her as a smith.
Facing pressure towards a marriage of convenience, Neni opted for a vagabond life on the open road, which has brought her to [name of town].
Sample Post:
"I've been meaning to ask, what happened here? I mean, if you don't mind me asking. It's just...well...things in Longsaddle are a bit different from home..."
Home, what does that word even mean now?
"Not that I wouldn't be happy to help but I'm not sure I'm what you're looking for. If they're looking for someone who can tend to livestock, or bend horseshoes, or drive a wagon, or even cook, then I can do that but adventuring..."
You made it this far, even when that storm washed out your camp. You can hold your own in a fight. Hadn't Pick always said he'd been an adventurer? That's how he got the money to buy the Boar & Lyre. If he can do it...
It would be nice to have a place of your own. Someplace that belongs to you, that no one can ever take away.
"I suppose it wouldn't hurt anyone to go and see," Neni says, finishing her ale, "which house is it?"
Eben Lietbur was born the son of a Baron, like his father, and his father's father, and a dozen generations before them. While not particularly prosperous, the House of Leitbur was trusted and respected and there seemed no doubt the Eben would safely follow in the footsteps of his forebears. He was away at university when the calamity fell. It most likely saved his life.
First was the drought and the bad harvest. The Leitburs had wisely made preparations to hedge against such concerns, but when the silos were opened the truth was discovered, much of the grain had been spoiled or ruined by rats.
The rats brought the plague that killed so many that winter, though the uncommon cold killed it's share as well. By the spring, it was widely accepted that the House of Lietbur and all who dwelled in its domains were cursed.
The rebellion didn't last long, as many of the Leitbur's soldiers joined the mob. Baron and Lady Leitbur were beheaded and their keep burned to the ground.
When Eben returned, he came in disguise and vowing vengeance. But, as he examined the ruins of his family home, he learned the dark truth. His parents had been conducting rituals in secret, allying themselves with a mysterious and evil power.
Since then, Eben has made it his quest to destroy the creatures of darkness, wherever he may find them...
Eben Leitbur: Standard Human/Haunted One (or Noble)/Paladin
Personality: Eben is dour and serious. Raised as the son of a Baron, he bears a strong sense of noblesse oblige. There is very little he wouldn't do to aid or protect the common folk.
Ideals: All that it takes for evil to prevail, is for good people to do nothing.
Bonds: I must protect the weak to make amends for the crimes of my family
Flaws: When dealing with the darkness, and those who would ally themselves with it, there can be no mercy.
Fears: That, in the moment of truth, I will succumb to the darkness like my parents before me.
Name: Nave
Species: Tiefling
Class: Rogue/Bard (skill monkey) or Bard/Warlock (spellcaster)
Background: Urchin (or Criminal)
Backstory:
Nave has no real memory of her family or where she came from. Her earliest recollections are living in the monastery, where harsh nuns with stern faces would beat her for the slightest transgressions. And when you're a Tiefling "devil-child", there are always transgressions to be found.
She was maybe 9 or 10 when she ran away.
The town near the monastery was large, almost but not quite a city. There were plenty of places to hide, though in later years Nave wondered if anyone from the monastery had ever bothered to come looking. Nave made her own way; begging, stealing, and always hoping it would be enough to keep her hunger at bay. As she got older, she honed and refined her craft, finding the best street performers and picking the pockets of their transfixed audiences. She even picked up some of their tricks while she was at it. Eventually, she got too well known to avoid the town guard and too old play the innocent urchin. Nave took to the road. Since then she's lived in the margins of society, making her way however she can and moving on when the opportunities dry up...
Nave cursed herself. The Infernal must have sounded like a threat because the men surrounding her paused and backed up a half-step. Good, time and distance would work to her advantage. She took stock of her situation...narrow alley, two in front, one behind...she kicked herself again mentally for falling into such a classic ambush. A rookie mistake stumbled into by overconfidence.
A spell. If she was lucky it might disable the ones to her front and buy her enough time to turn around. Nave scowled. Her magic was always a bit iffy, but it might be the only chance she had. She cast Thunderwave and for once something went right. The two to her front dropped. Nave was so amazed that she forgot about the third for a split-second, just long enough for him to thrust the dagger into her back...
Nave turned just in time and what should have been a fatal wound was reduced to a deep graze. The pain bit deep and something inside Nave took over.
She snarled the words in Infernal, a rebuke to her attacker, and his body burst into flames.
Found a similar link here.
https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/d-d-beyond-general/story-lore/173937-character-idea-dumping-feedback-suggestions
This one was loosely inspired by a much better character created by Damian_May, so all credit where it is due.
The Pyromancer (AKA, the Failed Apprentice)
Class: Warlock 3 (the Fiend/Pact of the Tome)
Backstory: Kara Bloodtome was the only child in a long line of Wizards. Unfortunately she showed no aptitude for the arcane arts, much to her parents chagrin. Desperate to impress them, she searched through the family's library in the hopes of finding some book that could help her understand and unlock her potential. From a dark and abandoned corner of the library a dusty tome seemed to call to her...
Her first successful spell set the tower alight.
The fire destroyed everything that Kara had, everything that she knew, including her family.
Only she and the book escaped.
Since then Kara's learned more about the book, and the entity trapped within it. It has continued to teacher her the magical arts in the hope that, together, they can finally set it free...
Cantrips: Control Flames, Produce Flames, Fire Bolt, Bonfire, Eldritch Blast
Spells: Burning Hands, Hellish Rebuke, Scorching Ray, +1 Additional.
Ritual Spells: Any 2
Here's one I've only just recently thought of, but I think works really well!
Two wonderful dwarves, Erik and Hiln Brighthelm were among those assigned to the mine near Saltmarsh when their son, Flint Brighthelm, was stolen from them in the dead of night by one of the hags that worked for Mother Nightshade. Rather than corrupt the young adult or eat him, the old hag had a moment of weakness despite herself, and against her own judgement (and Flint's curse-laden demands for her to let him go) decided to leave Flint on the outskirts of the Drowned Forest, confident that he would be finished off by the assortment of vile creatures living there.
Erik and Hiln lead a small group to rescue Flint, but by the time they got there, he was nowhere to be found. Then, they heard the sound of Dwarven cursing coming from the branches above! There were no fiendish creatures that could've placed him there, so how did he get there? Flint holds to the story that he was thinner than he is today and shimmied his way up there, but the truth is much more unusual; the usually hostile vines that wrap around almost every tree in the Drowned Forest picked him up and placed him there, letting him go without so much as a scratch
As Flint grew up, it became evident that he had a calling different to the other dwarves, one uncommon among his kind. He was not skilled with the hammer and anvil in the slightest, but he made carvings of unrivalled quality and stonework so incredible you'd swear he'd moulded it like clay with his bare hands. This was in fact the truth, but he kept this to himself, believing the others would think he had a higher calling from which his powers were meant for.
One weary day, Flint took some leave from the mine and returned to the place where he was taken to and abandoned by the hag. When he got there, everything looked normal. But there was a shimmer in the air that he could not deny, and he knew he was the cause. Before long, a pattern seemed to form itself in the ground beneath him, and at the centre lay what are now his most prized possessions: a scimitar of unrivalled workmanship, a petrified oak staff, and a mistletoe leaf encased in clear crystal.
Once he took these, all fell away from him and he found himself standing on the Elemental Plane of Earth before a massive stronghold seemingly preparing for war. Awestruck, Flint went to move closer and inspect it, but only a few steps later his feet became encased in stone. The petrification was spreading, and the last thing he saw before his eyes turned to granite was the benevolent stare of the First King.
When Flint awoke, he was back in his quarters at the mine, with all the items he had found. Much thinking later, he came to a conclusion; Flint Brighthelm, a hill dwarf, was destined to be a druid! Nature's miracle, his new belongings, the vision of the Earthen fortress and the Dawrven First King, it all made sense now. There was to be an attempt for earth to overthrow nature's delicate balance, and only one of rock and stone, a dwarf, could stop it.
By mountain's might, nature's nurture, and a bit of dwarven ingenuity, Flint Brighthelm will protect his clan and all of Dwarvenkind! Oh, and maybe the rest of the Material Plane while he's at it. He might just need some help, so now he's out looking for a group of adventurers, or just some ragtag rascals out for a scrap. And what better place to look than Saltmarsh's taverns?
Who knows, maybe ground and sky will meet in a harmonious moment of destiny! Or the two could meet when a certain overeager Tabaxi teenager accidentally spills a certain Dwarf's mead... Who knows indeed!
ADHD Aussie (17M) with too many ideas and not enough time! Always up to chat!
Disclaimer: I'm not an optimizer. If I say something that's not fine-tuned to perfection, that's on purpose. D&D isn't an online tournament, it's a TTRPG where your imagination and the DM's compliance are the limits. I don't do "metas". If I can have fun with my thematically cool and still viable (both in and out of combat) concept, I'm happy. I'm not going for optimal stats; I'm going for optimal fun.
Here's an idea I had for a character that I couldn't find a use for: The character's name is Corwin Tremayne. His backstory would run somewhere along these lines(but can be adjusted to fit the exact setting for whatever campaign decides to include him): A priest of a particular deity who eventually felt the call of his Lord to use his strength in battle. At first, Corwin thought he was to achieve this as a Paladin; however, he eventually realized that fighting as a Paladin was not what his Lord had in mind. As a result, he turned away from being a Paladin & instead focused on becoming a Fighter.
As for his Build:
Race: Human Variant
Class(s): Paladin 2 Fighter 18
Feat.: Magic Initiate(Cleric)
Spells & Cantrips: Purify Food and Drink, Guidance, Mending, Resistance, & Spare the Dying
Background: Acolyte
Sir Edgard Vergran
Species: Variant Human (martial adept)
Background: Noble
Class: Barbarian (Ancestral Guardian)
Backstory: Edgard was raised in the prestigious Vergran manor, with his mother, father who died when Edgard was 2, and his sister. He was raised up like a typical noble, learned how to play the piano, and was quite talented at fencing. He was lectured on how to run the family trade routes, and knowledge in the political world, but when his older sister took over business part of the family, he didn’t find much to do. After talking to his family ghosts (the family spirits rest in the paintings at the manor, but also travel around quite a bit), they decided he should be the champion of the family, the first one in 4 generations, so he found his old uncle who taught him how to fence, and mastered the art of the rapier. He struck out on his own, and formed an adventuring group. After a while he realized the champions of his family name followed him around and he could summon them in battle to protect his allies, and give him strength in battle.