A character for a spin off mini campaign. 
She is an ebony skinned teifling named desire (no last name...) who is a love (sorry, unity) domain cleric of sune who plays like a stereotypical bard. She woke up on the floor of a tavern, unclothed, hurt and with a broken horn, with no memories of herself. She can vaguely remember history and things like that, but she can remember nothing about herself. She saw that people were staring at her weirdly, like she only just appeared there. Luckily for her, some priestesses of sune were there, and they took her in. She has grown to become an avid follower of sune, to the point where sune has bestowed her a gift! It’s a magic necklace that prevents pregnancy while wearing it! That was the dm’s idea. Eesh. She spreads the good word of love, by seducing literally everyone. This will be fun.

Ooh boy. That'll be interesting to see how she plays out.

Have you seen my character's backstory? It is the first "actual" backstory I have made.

It’s it on this thread? If not, plz post it here! 

Here it is...

Bellista is the daughter of two Tieflings. Her father was killed in an accident when she was young, and her mother was murdered by a mob when she was 14. After her mother's death, Bellista was alone on the streets of Waterdeep. She discovered that she was a very talented lute-player at the age of 16, when the half-elf minstrel Relamir offered her lessons for the time that he was there. The two fell in love, and lived together for some time. On the night before Relamir left, the lovers got drunk and got caught making love in the corner of a tavern. The half-elf left the city, and Bellista was ridiculed by everyone she knew. She stayed in Waterdeep, but decided to leave when the insults got too bad. The tiefling went looking for her lover, but was horrified when she found the half-elf's corpse, stripped of all his belongings, except for his precious lute. Bellista buried his body and took the lute. She cleaned up the instrument, and played it in the inn room she had stayed at with her lover Relamir. The music was so beautiful, the tavern owner went up to her room and asked her to come down to the common room and play for the other patrons, and she agreed, because she had nothing else to do now. Then she realized that, just a few days earlier, she was getting ridiculed for making love with Relamir, and that nobody would ask her to do anything for them if she looked the same. She looked at herself, and realized that she appeared to be a good-looking female human. She had accidentally cast "Disguise Self." She then went and became a fairly well-known musician, overcoming the prejudice associated with being a tiefling. She has learned a few other spells, most of which she uses to enhance her performances in some way. Bellista has become quite flirtatious, because she has a craving for affection caused by the loss of Relamir.

I think it is wonderful, great job!

Thanks! It took me about an hour. lol

Sure, from the slums that reside in the persistent shadow of the monolithic spires of the elven elite, nobility seems like the perfect existence – and it is, for the most part – but some people are destined for different, mayhaps greater, things. Valar Nightsorrow is one such person.
Born Valaralos Faer Nelluon Nightsorrow, the first of seven children of a merchant fleet director and the half-heiress of an ancient fortune, Valar wanted for nothing throughout his childhood and well into his nearly two centuries of life. From a young age, Valar was groomed to be his father’s successor, meaning he attended more than his fair share of fancy dinner parties, balls, regattas – just about any gathering of the rich and powerful that one could attend. For most of his peers, this meant growing up smug and entitled, the silver spoons they were born with turning to gold in their mouths, but as they grew cold and uncaring of those they viewed as lesser, Valar became increasingly warm, kind, and generous.
It was during his time spent visiting the slums, helping those less fortunate than himself, that Valar found any real joy in life. He hated the showy gatherings and stuffy conversations about money, fashion, and noble gossip. He’d much rather roll up his sleeves and help a farrier mend the thatching on their stables than put on his best clothes and sip wine older than his parents from gold-rimmed goblets. After so much time spent aiding others in such a way, Valar became just as adept at chores and odd jobs as he was at calculating shipping routes and commenting on new summer styles. His visits to the impoverished weren’t always met with open arms and joyous faces, though.
Unlike others who might don a disguise when leaving their lofty position to mingle with the masses, Valar wore his typical elven trappings, including his Nightsorrow family pendant that dangled above his chest on its finely crafted gold chain. It was this conspicuous nature that often got Valar into trouble, but, luckily, his heavy coin purse often got him right back out – it turned out that most ruffians only wanted money for food or to pay off some debt, not a fight. Such was the case, year after year, until one evening when Valar was out later than usual helping the madam in a supposed house of ill repute fix a finicky ale tap that he met the kind of trouble that money wouldn’t satisfy.
***
“I’m almost finished, Beaux,” said Valar from an awkward position under the matron’s bar. “You’ll be pouring pints again in no time.”
Beaux opened her mouth to reply, but a strange, garbled voice emanating from the entrance came out first, “Goood, snur snur. Me and the boys is fursty.”
Valar continued his work as Beaux turned to address the newcomers. “Sorry, cherubs, but we’re closed for another hour. This is a late-night establishment.” She was about to add a wink for innuendo and emphasis, but when she noticed the three very large, very armed gnolls standing just inside the swinging batwing doors she gasped and brought her hands to her mouth instead.
“Aww, snur snur,” the clear leader chuckled. He stood in the middle, wearing a tattered red shirt and repeatedly tossing a dagger end over end. “Girly don’t like us, boys.” Now all three laughed.
“Hur hur, we don’t need her liking us, hur hur, we don’t even need her alive,” the smallest of the three chimed in, and the small group roared with laughter. The one who hadn’t spoken yet even doubled over, but then came up stone-faced, wielding a short sword. The laughing stopped, the smallest gnoll pulled a handaxe from his belt, and the group moved toward the bar just as Valar emerged, wiping his hands on a not-so-clean rag.
“What’s all this then?” he said, surveying the situation, then added, “Gentlemen, why not put away your weapons and open your hands for some coin.” Valar tossed his laden coin purse down on the bar top demonstratively.
“Look, boys!” screeched the leader. “Fresh meat saved us trouble of lootin’ his corpse, snur snur!” Again, the three laughed, but it was abbreviated, their faces quickly showing snarls as they closed the gap between themselves and Beaux and Valar.
Valar grabbed his coin purse and threw it at their feet, halting their progress, as he placed himself between the would-be attackers and Beaux, who was cowering on her bar stool. “Take the money and go,” he said, boldly. “There’s plenty there for you to never need enter this city again.”
The gnoll who still hadn’t spoken bent down, picked up the coin purse, sniffed it, and nodded to the leader. “Well, snur snur,” the leader smirked. “It seems now we have plenty to settle down in new bar.” With that, the leader threw the dagger he’d been tossing straight at Valar with deadly velocity and precision. Valar had enough time to yell, “Beaux, run!” before he closed his eyes and awaited the coming pain. The woman, overcoming her fear, clawed her way over the bar and bolted out the back as Valar heard the distinct clinking sound of steel hitting a stone floor, followed by the gnoll leader’s curse of surprise. Feeling nothing, Valar tentatively opened his eyes, assuming the gnoll had missed, but noticed through a bizarre shimmer that now surrounded him that the dagger was lying between his feet – the gnoll hadn’t missed, the weapon had bounced off. Valar stood stunned, looking from the dagger to gnolls as they did the same in reverse.
The gnoll leader broke the pattern first, yelling, simply, “Get him!” and the three surged forward. With no time to think, only react, Valar threw his hands in front of him and screamed. To his amazement, fire leapt from his fingertips and arced toward his attackers. The gnolls howled as fur and flesh burned. They tried to retreat, but Valar was relentless, partially afraid that if he let the flames subside the gnolls would counter, and partially wanting to see them suffer for what they intended. In a matter of moments, the large, dangerous thugs were rendered nearly to ash. Valar had saved Beaux, saved himself, and killed three gnolls in the process.
There was a drawn-out silence as Valar stood, studying his hands as if they were foreign objects. But, slowly, reason began seeping into Valar’s confusion, and he started putting together what had happened: in his time of ultimate need, he’d cast magic. He was a sorcerer.
***
From that moment on, Valar reasoned that the feeling he’d felt for so long, the feeling that he didn’t belong within the confines of nobility, was the magic inside him trying to find its way out. Unbeknownst to him, though, his parents had been waiting for the day when this power would manifest.
“What do you mean you knew this day would come?” Valar asked as he stood, pack of essentials slung over his now modestly attired back, only his family pendent giving those who saw him any hint of his nobility.
With a sigh, his mother said, “You never knew your Great Cor O'Si, but she held the magic within her as well.” She put a hand on Valar’s shoulder and smiled, warmly. “It’s random, and skips many generations, but your father and I...somehow we knew.” A man of few words when not discussing business, Valar’s father simply nodded.
“Then you knew I’d likely leave,” Valar said, turning to lock eyes with his father. “Why go through all the effort to make a nobleman of me?”
“It’s what is done,” his father said, not mincing words.
“It was your birthright,” his mother added.
“I contemplated leaving even before...this,” Valar made flame dance in his palm, he was already displaying command over his new power.
“That we knew as well,” said his mother as she hugged him. “Now, off you go,” she said, wiping a stray tear from her eye. “We have much to set in motion.”
Valar hugged his mother back, separated, and turned to his father. There was a silent moment where more was said than perhaps either of them even knew, and then they bowed to one another in unison. “Tell everyone I said goodbye,” Valar said as he made his way out of the drawing room in his parents’ estate, out of the luxurious trappings of nobility, and out into the wild world of an adventurer.

Haven't gotten to play as him yet, but can't wait till I do!

(Credit to rent-a-bard, he helps you with backstories, he's pretty good, and free!)

@tieflings rule, yep. This is gonna be fun as all get out. Especially with the intended enemy of this campaign... (it’s a cult for a demon lord called the prince of pleasure... this mini campaign is gonna be a strange roleplay)

Slaanesh. You stole Slaanesh.

THEy might not know ho that is

Quote from Ahzehk_Ahriman >>

@tieflings rule, yep. This is gonna be fun as all get out. Especially with the intended enemy of this campaign... (it’s a cult for a demon lord called the prince of pleasure... this mini campaign is gonna be a strange roleplay)

Quote from Hellbringer_Player >>

Slaanesh. You stole Slaanesh.

 Either that or it involves the world’s easiest to find “impossible to find puzzle box.”

What do you mean?

I am fully aware we stole Slaanesh but tzeentch is cooler by all accounts. This group is also my warhammer group so...

That explains it...

The dm is actually a Slaanesh collector

Oh god. My tiefling bard is a follower of Sune as well. It makes sense if you look at the end of the backstory.

Sune is a fun goddess. I wonder what her Paladins would be like..... oh wait. They’re called bards.

I plan to go College of Glamour with my bard (paladin of Sune). lol

Quote from Hellbringer_Player >>

What do you mean?

 It was either a Slaanesh reference, or a Hellraiser reference.