First time player here, here's the backstory i just made for my new characters campaign. 

*words and ideas are mine so please don't copy them*

Nephi Olori was born into the Advar tribe, deep in the woodlands. Her father Anphari being the second in command to the leader of the tribe, and captain of the militia.

For generations, it had been taught to the children of the tribe who wished to be soldiers, that the best method of warfare was it had always been, hand to hand combat, swords, axes and arrows with wooden bows. This tradition was law. The tribe despised magic and modern weaponry, they believed it took away the bond between them and the land and shunned those who entertained its appeal.

From an early age, Nephi knew she wanted to grow up to be just like her father, strong, resilient and most of all, feared by all those who dare consider challenging the tribe. As soon as she could walk she began to train. However as she matured it was clear she did not share the same love for the old methods as her family did. Her brothers and sisters all found themselves wielding wooden swords in the evenings, Nephi found herself trying to make explosive powders and reading books that detailed the weapons used by human armies, guns that could mow down enemies in a second, explosives that destroyed buildings in a heartbeat. The new technologies were astounding to her, craving weapons forged in metal and fire and gunpowder rather than wood and bone and string.

Nephi tried for years to comply with her Father’s wishes, gaining herself a place in the infantry with an axe and shield on her back, but still could not stop dreaming and crafting. On one evening just before Nephi’s 23 birthday, she came to her room to find her Father Anphari sat on her bed surrounded by all the books she had stolen on convoy’s to nearby villages and hidden away, books that illustrated the manufacturing of guns, bullets, explosives and attachments. An argument ensued whereby Anphari threw all of Nephi’s books into the fire, demanding that she forget this nonsense and live a true Advar life, to take advantage of the legacy left to her by him and his father before him.

Following this, Nephi’s passions withdrew, trying to live the life that was demanded of her, that was expected. A year this went on, Nephi was due to marry her lover, she worked hard, she loved her family, but Nephi still stole silent nights hidden in fallen tree trunks to continue her work, trying to remember the correct calculations to create the explosives she had been working towards. So lost in her work one evening she did not hear Anphari calling her name, nor did she see the torch he carried, until it was too late. Frantically Nephi tried her best to hide her secrets once more, but in the process had knocked a small parcel of gunpowder onto the concoction. A scuffle ensued with her father. He tried to shake her back to her sense. The torch fell. An explosion erupted throughout the woodland. Nephi had been shielded from the blast, but only by her father’s body. Which was now more ash and blister than it was flesh and bone.

The grief was unbearable, the Advar tribe turned on her in an instant, blaming her chaotic hobby for the death of her father. That night Nephi was given two choices, death or exile. Even her soon to be wife would not look her in the eye, yet her mother begged her not to end her life so young. Nephi chose exile.

She now resides in a small cabin on the outskirts of the woodland, a humble abode but enough for her. She spends her time scavenging, crafting, playing the music of her tribe and writing in her journal, her only companion, where she writes letters never to be read to her father, her was-to-be wife, her mother. Nephi has no friends, she is known in the nearby villages but only to be seen skulking around, never to speak to. Nephi keeps to herself, understanding she does not deserve to be a burden to anyone else but wanting nothing more than a reason to use all the skills she has gained, all the knowledge of warfare and modern machinery. Nephi needs adventure and needs a reason to stop thinking she had made the wrong choice back in the woodlands.

Nephi is haunted by her father every night, the grief and guilt have never subsided. She misses a love she lost when she left. She misses feeling like a part of a team.

Nephi gained significant burns to her right arm and torso following the fateful explosion leaving ugly scars as a reminder of her mistakes.

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This is the story of Devereux Lox.  I wanted to tell the story of how a anthropologist Veldaken monk on the Way of Mercy made his way from Ravinca to Waterdeep. I also wanted to explain how he gained his "Devil's Sight" feat.

Devereux was good friends with a sage. They worked well together with the sage finding information about other species and cultures and Devereux being an anthropologist would venture off to verify or discover the veracity of information the sage had. Elves appeared n Ravinca and Devereux was fascinated by them. Spending time around them and learning their language after picking up bits and pieces of it. These Elves left. Then different Elves appeared these we physically like the others except their skin was as black as coal and their hair was bright white. Devereux’s sage friend encouraged him to ask these Elves if we could travel with them, to seek perfection in anthropology by discovering a new world or even plane of existence. These Elves were surprised by such a request, but quickly said yes. They could see value in having a Vedalken travel with them. They discovered he could speak Elvish and did so around him, but when they didn't want Devereux to know what they were saying they would use the Undercommon tongue, never expecting him to have an ear for it. He would listen to them speak to their goblin “servants” in the goblin language again never thinking that Devereux would be able to pick it up. He began piercing it all together. These Elves were slave traders and were thinking that a Vedalken would bring a very high price to the “brain strippers” of Faerun. Devereux thought this plan was intriguing and very well thought out and learned the ways of these Elves. Devereux carefully planned his escape for the moment they landed. The Elves knew the Vedalken was unarmed and was a researcher and never suspected he was a Monk of the Way of Mercy. When their attack came Devereux was already wearing his crying mask and fought back at a level the Elves did not and could not expect. The shocked Elves dropped darkness to cover the field and began to load their crossbows, Devereux could feel the momentum of the battle shift. In the darkness Devereux said out loud “These Elves will continue on the cycle when I have my eyes on them again”. An inky voice from somewhere in the magical darkness whispered “Your terms are accepted” and suddenly Devereux could see the elves and they clearly didn’t know Devereux could see them. He dispatched the Elves quickly and the goblins ran away. A tendril of darkness wrapped around the Elves as they lay dying and the Elves seemed truly afraid. Devereux watched fascinated by this; as this was something he’d never witnessed before and wondered if this was how all the coal black Elves died? In a new place, with new discoveries to make, he began to make his way towards the town he saw in the distance. During his trek he happened upon a pond and saw his reflection in the water there. He saw that his eyes had become fields of green, "Closer to perfection, these eyes that can see in magical darkness." Devereux pulled the cloak he had taken from the body of an Elf close around himself and pulled the deep hood up and over his head. He adjusted his mask and continued his way towards the city.   

hope y'all are ready, because this is the most effort I have ever put into a character's backstory.

the character in question is a hybrid between a wood elf and a Shrouded Nerscylla (yes, from Monster Hunter).

her father was an elf.
her parents were not the same species.
...you can probably guess where this is going.

anyway her father got killed by a monster of some sort when she was young, so she never really got to know him.
because of that, her mother (a Shrouded Nerscylla) cared for and raised her until she was around 16 years old.
she then set out to move to the city, where she looked for a job.
she was turned away by most, due to her unusual appearance and her origins of birth; however, the small handful of jobs that she did get to do (which consisted mostly of generic, one-time requests to escort, slay monsters, etc.) resulted in very good reviews and decent pay.
eventually, she had found a long term job working as a member of the local guild, where she had to work her ass off to get the respect and acceptance of her colleagues.
fortunately, it only took her about a month to do so.
she does still visit her mother every so often, usually every two weeks.

yeah. effort.

Do they have to be player-characters?

 I've toyed with the idea of this character for a long time. His name is Eriol Barraband. I've actually written a few short-stories about him. This is my first long-backstoried character:

I was orphaned on the streets of Waterdeep, at the young age of four. I learned to survive on my own, and an older, more experienced street urchin named Jacob Kuhl helped me on my path. He grouped together three or four of us unlucky children, and called us the Starlit Hunters. We owe our lives to him. I was split from the Starlit Hunters at the age of thirteen, when a shadowed figure kidnapped me. This figure took me to the Shadow Realm, and into a strange city full of psychic vampires called Oshragora. He led me to one of the many city's fortresses, this one called Castle Skyfall. This was his domain. I never saw Jacob Kuhl again. His name was Count Vladimir, a powerful vampire. He trained me as a thief and sent me into Waterdeep to steal for him. While in Waterdeep, I was constantly stalked by hidden skeletal beasts, minions of Count Vladimir. I could not escape. He trained me as a warrior too, and, he gave me the only gift he has ever given me, two magical longswords called Arius I and Arius II. He gave me these when I completed my training.

I have always been interested in stories and lore. One day, while I was on a trip in the night, waiting in the corner of a tavern for a vulnerable target to enter, a bard was telling the most enveloping tale I have ever heard. I had to talk to him. As I stepped forth, one of the minions of Count Vladimir leapt at me. The bard, being a valiant and altruistic soul, dove forward to save me, a child. The beast attacked him viciously. I could not watch. I fled, and miraculously, escaped. That bard died to save me.

After this, I used my talents as a thief to sustain a modest life, and eventually used my talents as a warrior recently to be hired as a town guard. Ever since the bard died, it has been my mission to become the stuff of legends, to have a tale written about me.

My newest character is one that shouldn't really exist. He's named Squelch and he is a tiny gelatinous sphere. I decided he needed to love eating boots and even though gelatinous cubes are probably not super distractible he is very distractible. He also is very bad at perception checks.

I bet you can guess what Squelch looks like.

Hilarious

is this decent? Thayless is an elf who lost his memory and was cursed with lycanthropy he is haunted by his past not knowing who the voices that he hears are or who they were to him he has no choice but to wander the land to try to find out what happened to him and his family and try to appease the voices of his loved ones.

That is a really cool idea! It does seem really difficult to role-play correctly though.

thanks!! i wasn't sure if it was a good idea or not

I really like writing my backstories in-character. Here's one I'm hoping to play relatively soon for Ratfrid Gardiner :))

"Oi’m just a poor ol’ farmer! Nothin’ more! I’ve got no education, exceptin’ for plants and animals, chickens and whatnot. Oi’ve olways felt a conection to the mice and rats in the barnhouse, bein’ as i’m a very scared and skitterish indevidual. An’ I’ve been havin’ some right awful dreams of late, that oi’m all small n’ quick n’ I’m runnin’ away from me aunt b’cause she’s swattin’ me with her broom ‘andle! Right awful stuff. She’s gone and kicked me out of ‘er ‘ouse now, so I’m lookin’ for a new job an’ a place to stay. She’s been tellin’ everyone not to take me in b’cause I’m a “varmint” and “cursed” n’ whatnot. I d’know why she’s so up and angry at me, but it’s makin’ it real difficult to find new lodgin’s. ‘Till Oi do, might as well try n’ meet new people who moight be able t’ ‘elp me out."

Ratfrid is, of course, a wererat (shifter), but doesn't know it yet.

(sorry if my grammar or spelling is bad) (also this is in our homebrew campaign so things might not fit into existing lore)

my character is named jerry the 17th (just a name i randomly chose)

he was a paladin and was training from a very young age. his teacher/mentor, firefly, was a legendary paladin hero who had saved the world (in our last campaign) and was attempting to train more people to continue protecting the world. after years and years of training, jerry had learned many skills and was beginning to feel overconfident, believing himself to be an unstoppable force (he was only like level 2 but he didn't know that). by now he was a teenager. he had heard stories of his mentor firefly's achievements, and wanted to be a hero to the people of his town as well. so, one day he went out on his own after hearing a rumor that there was a monstrous creature terrorizing a neighboring village. he eventually returned, but his and hair armor were burned, and a huge fire had started in a nearby forest while he was away. he seemed confused, and when asked about it, he said "while I was fighting, someone else screamed in pain. i remember being furious, but don't remember anything after that. next thing i remember, i was in the middle of a huge fire, holding the dead body of the monster i was fighting. i must have fallen asleep . . . but that doesn't explain much." later, he returned to firefly, expecting him to congratulate jerry on saving the town. however, he was met with yelling as firefly told him how much of a mistake that was. "i sent out people to find you, but when they DID, you were BURNING DOWN THE FOREST!!! what were you THINKING???" as the yelling continued, jerry felt himself becoming more and more angry at him. in his eyes, firefly was lying, betraying him, spreading false rumors. that's all he remembered. when he woke up, the city was on fire, and he was in the middle of it. firefly was gone, everyone was cowering in fear, and he had no idea why. so he left.

ever since then, people have run in fear whenever they see him, and when he asks why, they all say the same thing: "you were casting evil spells! burned down a whole village! why would i NOT run?" he was left with no friends, no family, and nobody trusted him. he has spent the rest of his life so far looking for a way to regain the trust of society.

so yeah, that's who i'm playing as.

he is a sorcerer but his sorcerer magic manifested in a strange way. it takes over when jerry gets angry, and is merciless and will hunt down whatever angered him until he thinks it is dead.

what do you think about this?

Ivan Ironfist is a dwarven monk. His father was a jeweler and craftsman, but his parents died young. He began taking to the streets trying to do what he could to afford to eat. He found over the years he was at decent fist fighting and he could take punches well. An old half-orc trainer saw him fighting one day and saw his potential. Took him in and allows him to sleep in a spare room at the gym. Began training him. Ivan is now being trained to be a prize cage fighter. Instead of learning at a temple or monastery, he learns from Flint the trainer as if he is an elder of a particular faith. His trainer teaches him philosophies of fighting, how to break the body and also mend it. How the physiology and anatomy of the body can benefit from healthy eating and training, and how to use the weak points on the body to best an enemy combatant. Ivan's long-term goals include becoming the biggest champion there has ever been and always searches for a challenge and knowing every detail of the body there is to know.

ARKON CODRAKAR

Arkon comes from a small family growing up in the Cyrios Mountains. His family consisted of his loving mother Diana, his stern-but-forgiving father Samiel, his heartwarming little sister Penelope, and himself. Their home was found near the top of Pride's Call where they lived a relatively self-sufficient lifestyle. Arkon grew up committed to learning the art of combat with his father, a dishonorably discharged commander in the Dwendalain Empire. He was given orders to execute a village containing many young drow; he refused to murder children, letting them and their parents escape. Samiel always lived by the same rules and ideals he instilled in Arkon; Do what is right, regardless of consequence.

Once Arkon came of age, he kissed his family goodbye heading into Rexxentrum to enlist just as his father did. After many years of service, Arkon became a truly exceptional soldier, outshining his peers and quickly rising to chief lieutenant.

Arkon was returning to Rexxentrum after a great victorious battle when word was brought to him that a scout unit from the Kryn Dynasty came across his home, besting his father in battle, killing his mother, and kidnapping his sister. Arkon immediately went home to find his home destroyed, finding dropped orders from Leylas Kryn the Bright Queen ordering the scout unit to get as much info on the Cyrios Mountains and kill anything that gets in their way.

Arkon fueled with great anguish, promised to find the whereabouts of his lost sister and avenge his parents' death. As a child, Arkon heard rumors of Isharnai, the Prism Sage - a hag. He took a detour from returning to Rexxentrum to the woods north of the Bromkiln Hills, where the hag was rumored to roam. He found Isharnai, seemingly waiting for him at her doorstep. The hag promised him great power in combat. Arkon, too distraught to remember the conniving trickery of hags, took the offer. The hag then marked Arkon with red tattoos on his face resembling claw marks.

Returning to Rexxentrum, Arkon sought out a conference with the commander in chief, requesting a leave of absence to pursue his family's wrong-doers. The commander-in-chief complied, going even further to put out word of Arkon's grief and personal mission to all troops in his command.

Here is my dwarf life domain cleric Im not sure what deity for him yet so I chose Ilmater as I think it fits if you have a better suggestion let me know.

I was born in a quiet mountain village where life was as steady and strong as the stone around us. My father was a skilled mason, my mother a healer, and my younger brother, Tharn, was my shadow. He was small and sickly, but he had a heart twice the size of his little frame. He followed me everywhere, always laughing, always asking questions. "One day, I'll be big and strong like you!" he used to say.

When the plague came, all of that joy was stripped away. We called it það læðist—It Creeps. It turned the skin black, boiled the blood, and moved slowly from the fingertips to the heart. No one was spared. My mother died first, then my father. I watched helplessly as it took our friends and neighbors, one by one. Only Tharn and I remained.

But I wasn’t spared—I contracted the plague too. I watched in horror as my hands blackened to the wrists, but the disease stopped there. I was desperate to save myself and Tharn. I carried him with me as I sought help from healers, scholars, and alchemists. They tore at my hands, ran their tests, and made their notes. Each time, they failed, and each time, I hoped the next would be different.

I was so focused on finding a cure for myself that I ignored the signs in Tharn. He trembled when I touched him, hid his blackening fingers in his pockets, and swore he was fine. "It’s nothing," he’d say with a smile. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. He died in my arms, a boy too young to understand why I couldn’t save him.

I buried him myself, with these cursed hands wrapped in bloodied cloth. I wept and prayed to gods I didn’t believe in, begging for forgiveness, for meaning. That’s when I first heard Ilmater's voice. He didn’t promise to forgive me. He didn’t offer to cure me. Instead, He gave me a purpose: Endure the suffering. Protect others from your mistakes. Bear the burdens they cannot.

Since that day, I have wandered the land, healing where I can, protecting those in need. I refuse to touch another with my flesh, keeping my hands bound in thick cloth. Through Ilmater’s grace, I’ve saved lives—but never enough to drown out the guilt. Tharn’s laughter still echoes in my dreams, and every life I save is a prayer to him, asking for his forgiveness.

I now seek to understand það læðist, to uncover its origin and, perhaps, find a way to stop it from spreading ever again. I will endure, as Ilmater demands, but my curse will not define me. If I can stop this plague, maybe… just maybe, I can be more than the brother who failed to protect Tharn.

Jilyra

Female High Elf. Warlock, Great Old One patron. Background: Haunted One (language: deep speech, Trinket: a silver ring large enough to be worn as a bracelet). 

Everything started at the funeral of Jilyra's father. First came a cold wind and a silvery tinkle. Then the ground trembled as an ancient silver dragon landed amidst the crowd. Jilyra's father was a respected member of the community, but not a particularly important in the city. Not even his wife and child knew he knew a dragon.

As the dragon had paid her respects, she turned to Jilyra and offered her one of the many rings that pierced her wing edges. She said that due to the debt she owed Jilyra's father, the child would have her help when needed. With that, she left.

Jilyra and her mom's status in the city changed overnight. Most of the wealthiest did their best to buy their way in their good grace. People having a, supposed, direct line with a dragon were too important to be commoners. After only few months, Jilyra's mother remarried with a concillor. 

Jilyra was too young to marry. She, on the other hand, found herself with an unending flow of new friends, each more superficial than the last. All this went to her head: she was filled with dreams of happyness, glory, and richness. So much that one day she decided to leave her house to go on an adventure with some of her friends. They all were sure they would return triumphantly on the back of a dragon. 

After just few nights, though, they were ambushed, captured and brought somewhere underground.

As of today, Jilyra is still not sure what happened during her captivity.

She remembers the thin figures with tentacles on their head though. She still has nightmares about them.

The Mind Flayers that bought Jilyra, her friends, and many other had their plans for them well laid out: most would have their brains eaten. Some would be slaves. A selected few would become hosts for mature tadpoles. Jilyra's fate would be the last one.

It was when she had the slimy tadpole forced down her throath that the dragon kept her promise. She still had her gift with her: the magic in that ring was subtle, enough that it was not detected. The terrible danger Jilyra was in triggered it and it killed the tadpole as it was attacking her brain. It saved the elf from being ceremorphosised, but the tadpole merged with Jilyra's brain, replacing those parts it had already consumed. 

The dragon Sokhes appeared shortly after, and destroyed the colony of Mind Flayer. She was not proud of Jilyra: she gifted her due to love she had for her father, not to satisfy the ego of a fool child. That the child didn't deserved the memory of her father were the last words the dragon told the elf.

The return home was anything but triumphant. Of the youngs that left, only Jilyra was back. Families were hurt and, needing someone to blame, they blamed Jilyra. Her foster father, the councilor, did what he could to keep rumors down, but overall there was little he could do.

Jilyra never left her house for months. She was plagued by nightmares and thoughts that seemed like hers but were intruders.

Meanwhile, deep in the underdark, a tadpole slithered out of its pool chocked with slime. 

With time, things started to normalize for Jilyra, at least a bit. People still felt hostility towards her, and she perceived as a physical thing, but she could ignore it well enough. It was the thoughts of darkness and hunger that troubled her. Those and the clear feelings they were coming ever closer.

In the underdark, the tadpole had grown in size and in ferocity. The Neothelid felt the psionic link coming from the surface and even its feral mind could recognize it as a kindred of sort to itself. It started following it.

When the fear became too much for her to bear, Jilyra left her home the second time, but this time with more success. Afterall, she used the time she spent in seclusion to learn what she would need to survive.

She left, but she couldn't shake the feeling of a black hunger following her. Far from her but every day just a bit closer then before. She always knew the general direction it came from and had to assume the same went for the thing. 

When she reached the sea she felt trapped: she couldn't go further without going closer to the thing, so she did the only thing she could: she joined the crew of a boat sailing north. Even on the sea she could feel the hunger following her, but for the first time it wasn't getting closer

Fox Yowl, the Kenku Psi Warrior Fighter with the Criminal background.

Fox Yowl was a slave to a high ranking member of one of his country's noble houses, and basically spent his entire life as one. However, he found a book about a fox folk hero called The Clever Capers of Finnegan the Fox (thanks to the DM for coming up with that) that inspired him to want to find freedom. As he's of the House of Swords (who are in charge of the kingdom's military), he watched his master and other soldiers practice their fighting and, unknown to them, practice it himself to become a decently skilled Fighter. During this, he would also discover he had psionic powers, which he kept hidden as an ace in the hole for his inevitable escape attempt. He also has a wife and son, the latter of which he'd read Clever Capers to, leading to his son making him a fox mask as a gift.

One day, he managed to contact a rebel group against the government, which also acted as an Underground Railroad to get slaves out of the country, and was able to set up for himself to escape with their help, but was unable to get his wife and son out. His primary goal is now to find out a way to free them.

This is hindered by the fact his former owner is very keen to get him back, because being a Kenku used as a living tape recorder, he has a metric ton of secrets that would be very bad for him if Fox Yowl remembered half of them. One of these includes his former owner, potentially one of the campaigns' BBEG's, plans for world domination. So Fox Yowl's secondary goal is to get to another kingdom and let them know what his former owner has planned, as well as help a noble from his kingdom seek asylum there in exchange for using her connections to get his wife and child out.

Quote from Godzillawolf >>

Fox Yowl, the Kenku Psi Warrior Fighter with the Criminal background.

Fox Yowl was a slave to a high ranking member of one of his country's noble houses, and basically spent his entire life as one. However, he found a book about a fox folk hero called The Clever Capers of Finnegan the Fox (thanks to the DM for coming up with that) that inspired him to want to find freedom. As he's of the House of Swords (who are in charge of the kingdom's military), he watched his master and other soldiers practice their fighting and, unknown to them, practice it himself to become a decently skilled Fighter. During this, he would also discover he had psionic powers, which he kept hidden as an ace in the hole for his inevitable escape attempt. He also has a wife and son, the latter of which he'd read Clever Capers to, leading to his son making him a fox mask as a gift.

One day, he managed to contact a rebel group against the government, which also acted as an Underground Railroad to get slaves out of the country, and was able to set up for himself to escape with their help, but was unable to get his wife and son out. His primary goal is now to find out a way to free them.

This is hindered by the fact his former owner is very keen to get him back, because being a Kenku used as a living tape recorder, he has a metric ton of secrets that would be very bad for him if Fox Yowl remembered half of them. One of these includes his former owner, potentially one of the campaigns' BBEG's, plans for world domination. So Fox Yowl's secondary goal is to get to another kingdom and let them know what his former owner has planned, as well as help a noble from his kingdom seek asylum there in exchange for using her connections to get his wife and child out.

 Kenku are so much fun. Please tell me you only speak in poem or riddles or something?