I only play 2, but I have a lot of ideas and our campaigns are very short, so we get to use a lot of characters.

That explains it.

Quick question, who did the art for your profile picture? It looks really good 

It does look really good, I only just noticed that!

Flare burnfellow

race: Fire genasi

class: wizard(soon to be bladesinger)

living has a member of the blood king’s family  is one thing, being a fire genasi I different.

flare grew up having to deal with hate from his fellow classmates and teachers, accept one, mr. ember wood. A fellow genasi, ember wood looked after flare and helped flare with his studies. One day, knights of the dark feather stormed the school, only few lived, while flare was trying to escape, he tripped, spraining his ankle, and was about to be killed by one of the knights. Acting fast, flare grabbed a rapier from the grasp of a dead guard and stabbed the knight, and killing him. Flare managed to leave the school with his life, running (well, limping) from the school to a town, where he practiced magic and swordsmanship. But one question remains, was his teacher alive? That was for flare to find out.

plz point out errors!

I found an android app last week that was made by one of the people on here, called "Fabrica de Herois - Fantasia."

Well, I’m a apple user, shoot.

F

2 as a player, 1 as DM

What are you talking about?

He's probably talking about D&D games.

Sorry,  late answer for how many games I'm part of that was asked above. 

OK

Newer player, long time gamer. Sorry, it hasn't been spelling or grammar checked. Screw you autocorrect!

2nd character, got lost writing backstory. Haven't typed 4500+ words for anything since high school. Enjoy

Xarreus (zah-ree-us) Hiltera

Aasimar Paladin gone Hexblade. Had one session with him so far and really looking forward to developing him more.

Native son of Fae'run, blessed child born to a modest family in Waterdeep, Xarreus Hiltera was raised by his guard Captain Father and strong willed mother to know right from wrong, before all else. Though his eyes glowed with an eerie radiance, said to be his power envisioned, they often shined with joy and love.

"Father saw my birth, touched by the will of the Celestials, as a blessing and reward for his dutiful life spent in the defense of others;" his legacy cemented in an aasimar child that he could teach and train to protect those that could not fight for themselves.

Taking to those ideals like a dwarf to drink, the boy became a facet of his community; devout practicer of his faith, attentive and observant, setting an example and leading others, helping mediate disputes, standing up for the disadvantaged and furrowing out wrongdoing even at his own risk. This led to some unpopular relationships with certain community members, but Xarreus took it in stride. Those that would do wrong have no place beside him. Those that only mean harm, need not his understanding. These judgments and this decision felt right to him.

Xarreus, like all aasimar, was granted an angelic guide to aid him through his life. Tadriel , the Tenacious, as Xarreus would come to think of him, was the "guiding angel" to the young Aasimar. Xarreus had learned his name during a particularly lucid dream. Throughout his life, Tadriel had been there, in his dreams, bringing visions of his potential and warnings of risk. Tadriel had given hints to Xarreus when opportunities arose; he slipped hints about a lost pet into his dreams, drew warnings about parts of the forest to avoid and pointed him towards the path of a paladin when Xarreus intended to train. Through all of his days, Tadriel was the one constant that confirmed him more than his fsmily. Tadriel reminded him that he was destined for great things, and that his hard work would pay off for himself and others.

He would eventually turn towards defending his community. Entering into the city guard, there was a commitment to be made. One that would shape the days to come. Believing faith above all and wishing to payback those that blessed him, he turned to the church to bolster his fighting spirit. Taking oaths to support his convictions, this new path radiated with possibility. These days brought chance and change. With such turmoil in his life, he was nevertheless convicted of becoming a great warrior, like his father. His angelic guide, Tadriel, was faithful that Xarreus could live up to his life's goals and serve as a shining example to others. Having been with him since birth, Tadriel felt accomplished for his role in guiding his charge through a worthwhile life.


Change, being what it is, is the only thing we can truly count on.

Basic training became a position, daily life became routine, and contributing to his community was fulfilling in a way Xarreus had not anticipated. His comrades-at-arms had become like brother unto him. His parents chests swelled with pride when he woukd visit. Before long, Xarreus had become a squad caption in his own right. Friends were also subordinates and he was relegated to further training and commanding them. His lives were now his responsibility, as well. Bonds were cemented as they worked through various investigative work; interrupting slave smuggling lines, retrieving stolen goods, even once interfering with the work of a nefarious cult and preventing who knows what sort of arcane mayhem from occurring.
Let's not mention when the city of Waterdeep was held ransom by a deranged wizard who had ensorceled dozens of books to explode when in daylight, littering the city's public spaces with them. If Xarreus and company had not discovered where the wizard was hiding and extracted the method of his crime, we may still be cautiously combing the libraries with magical protection, or else! These exploits, and more, further assured Xarreus that he was doing the right thing.

Xarreus was blessed with an acuity for warfare, likely aided and developed by his father's influence and training. His cleverness in combat often getting the better of his men. He felt frustration at this, like he wasn't accomplishing his goal. He hadn't had anything else to work towards besides becoming a city guard, and, though they encountered a string of successes, he felt that they needed to improve as a whole if they were to ever face a "real" challenge.

Men are hardly all the same, but it is amazing that across all races we can have so much in common and be so different. What Xarreus considered humility and honesty, some guards took as an insult. Despite keeping an open ear to his friends and compatriots, a few couldn't prevent their wounds from dictating their feelings.

Another day, another training routine in the courtyard. Guards were paired off and sparring with each other, working on fundamental polearm technique. Xarreus had brought these drills from his childhood and intended to solidify the foundation and conditioning of his force.

"These drills are a waste...."

One such member had experienced recent hardship; a loss in the family... one they felt could have been prevented by the city guard. Unfortunately, Xarreus madr plans that, ultimately, may have affected the outcome. Kenton, our guard in question, had voiced his disapproval, neglecting to mention his younger brother had runafoul of some bandits when he stumbled into a very private conversation and a nearby pub; He escaped that night, sharing his tale and his fear with Kenton, asking for his protection and fearing a reprisal.

"Fear not brother, I will be near and there are many eyes near our home. We will keep watch and not worry mother and father. My friends and I in the guard will be able to help, if anything should happen."

When Kenton had arrived for duty the next day, he found himself rushed along with the rest of his unit as they were alerted to the patrol changes. It was a last minute detail altered at the whim of his commanding officer, who was nowhere in sight. They would later find him on the other end of the city, where they switched between patrolling and grueling conditioning exercises. Xareeus was determined they become one of the top units in the city; known and respected by all. Kenton had tried to speak with Xarreus about the changes and his wishes, but Xarreus brushed them off for the time being.

"Focus on today's drills. We can discuss the matter as we return this evening"

The sky had grown overcast. Charcoal clouds blotted out the sun everywhere but on the horizon The guard unit marched into their community compound to find a sobbing woman on the steps and an older man, whose head whipped about to face them as they entered. He quickly approached the group, tears welling in his eyes.

"Kenton! Kenton where are you? Where WERE you!?" The man yelled.
"Father?" Asked Kenton "Father I was... we were training.... is that mother?"
His father grabbed the collar of his armor and pulled him close to his face.
"He was waiting for you! He said you had promised! He apologized and...and...he was so hurt... you know how much you meant to him!? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH LAHARL WANTED YOU TO BE THERE? YOU PROMISED HIM*..." Kenton's father yelled, his voice faltering, until he fell to his knees, coughing and wheezing.
"Father please..."
Kenton kneeled down and put an arm around his father's shoulders.
"Where is Laharl?

Then, the woman on the stairs stood up and ran to them, draping her arms around both men.

"Please stop," she sobbed, "I can't handle this... my family..... my boys..."

Kenton had an arm around each of his parents, when another hand landed on his shoulder. Xarreus was holding a report, and Kenton had never seen his radiant, glowing eyes so dim...and so sad.

"Kenton, I don't know what to say. I'm incredibly sorry for your loss. I assure you, justice will be served. I'm... sorry about your brother."

The last tumbler fell into place, and a bolt of nausea rocked Kenton. He gritted his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut. Tears poured from the sky as the charcoal ceiling rumbled, and a gentle rain began. Kenton began sobbing, and joined his family grieving the loss of his little brother.

Back in the courtyard, training was being taken seriously... albeit too much by Kenton. They had been practicing for over an hour. It had been 2 months since his brother was murdered, and there was no word about the investigation or any leads. His frustration had worn him thin, and he was taking them out on his squad mates. It wasn't long before it had gone too far. Kenton was exchanging blows, Xarreus voice in his ear coaching the group... and he couldn't keep the memories of that day in his mind. He couldn't keep the images from coming.

His brother's face... their favorite tree to play on... hugging their mother together....

*THWACK THWACK* Two strikes parried...

The memorial service... his grave...the rain...

*SCOOSH* A strike whips past his hear...

His parents faces, the empty bedroom, the sound of thunder...

*DOK* Stars filled his eyes as the next blow connected and he studied himself...

"I'm sorry! Are you al...*

*CRACK* Kenton's retaliation catches the other guard unaware, as he had lowered his weapon to offer his assistance. Kenton had struck his opponent square in the temple, and knocked him unconscious on his feet. As he fell, Kenton struck him in the face once more.

"YOUR FAULT!!!"

"That's enough! Put down your weapon!" Xarreus came running over. Kenton levied the bladed end towards his captain.

"IT'S YOUR FAULT! IF YOU HAD LET ME SPEAK"

Xarreus put his hands up, a show of submission, and asked "What is the problem, Kenton?"

"Why? Why do we train so hard? What's the point?"

"I don't know what you mean, drop your weapon and let's talk."

"Talk!? NOW is the time? Not when I needed your ear? Not when my brother was scared for his life? NOT WHEN LAHARL WAS STILL ALIVE!?!?"

"I know it's difficult to bear. I can't take the blame."

"You're the only one I can blame!!!"

It was clear there had been many sleepless nights lost in a bottle for Kenton. His eyes were sullen and dark, he had become unkempt and his close friends had shared their concern for him. Nothing they nor anyone else had done was helping him. He had loved his brother so much. He couldn't accept that he had failed.

"ALL...YOUR....FAULT!"

Each word came with a swing, Xarreus deftly escaping the reach. His patience was waning, he needed control.

"Stop this now!"

Kenton didn't respond, he just pressed forwards.

Xarreus was out of patience. He, too, had to struggle with the reality of his choices, even though in life there are no guarantees. He had questioned his own ability and knowledge; had he pressed his men too hard or not hard enough? There was no way he could have anticipated what transpired, or what was happening now for that matter!

*CRACK CRACK*

Xarreus suffered for letting his mond wander; one blow across his face and another to the temple. He fell to the ground, landing on one knee. The other guards had swarmed them both and were now restraining the two men. Feeling the arms and hands grab him and pull him to his feet felt like another assault, and a heat began welling up in Xarreus.

Before he could stop himself, he had let his anger get the best of him... his eyes glowed brighter and brighter, reflecting off of the armor and weapons of the guard, until there was a great flash and magical light swathed the area. Pain surged through Xarreus and he saw his squad all wince in pain and reel back from him. He knew this power to be of his Aasimar heritage. He knew he had hurt his own troops.

He stood up, and recalled his power. The light faded into him and his eyes dimmed to their usual glow. He looked to all of his men with pain and shame in his eyes.

"Dismissed. Go home." He declared, then hanging his head in sullen shame. All but Kenton, who was storming off, waited a moment.

"That's an ORDER!"

With that they dispersed and Xarreus watched them leave. One or two of them looked back, but the men knew their captain. They knew that he didn't need or want their support right now. Xarreus turned and walked over to a bench and sat down. He placed his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes.

"Goblin shit, that hurts..."

He sat back and looked to the sky, only to be greeted by a soft, but cold rain"

"Must be summer's end." He lamented.


Xarreus and Kenton were both put on leave. Xarreus consulted with his father, the only person in his life that he knew would understand him. The grizzled military veteran certainly had stories to share. Stress and trauma can break any of us. Loss is something we must carry for the rest of our lives. Mistakes are only that if you learn nothing from them. Some wounds only heal with time. He suggested Xarreus speak to Kenton and his family. The bonds were bent, but not broken.

Not all wounds can be mended so easily though...

Xarreus was experiencing something he had never endured..... doubt. His confidence shaken, he had difficulty considering the return to military life. He was bereft of faith in himself. This loss of control shook him to the core. Sometimes he forgets that he is still human and flawed. Even the calming presence of Tadriel wouldn't assure him peaceful slumber. Tadriel himself was beginning to stress at the condition of his charge, so much so he began to search the realms for aid.... be careful what you wish for, one might say.

On a clear, full moon lit night, Xarreus had a lucid dream unlike any others. His mind and perception were almost clear, but he knew he slept in his bed and that what he was seeing wasn't quite real.

"Tadriel! Tadriel, where are you!?!?"

No response.... he looked around his own room, but there was no color. Everything was in shades of gray, the candles burned but emitted much less light than normal.

"Tadriel!? Devas be damned!"

He stopped and listened a moment. There was a rasp and a rush of air, in and out of the room. Then he noticed the walls swelled slightly inward with the rasp, and outward with the breeze.

All of a sudden His apartment was engulfed by a blackness that had poured in through his window, pooling at his ankles and crawling up the walls. He looked up just in time to note the last of the ceiling being swallowed up. As the inky ooze crawled up his desk, it swallowed up the candle, taking with it the flame and only source of light. There was a moment of pure darkness, then the flame reappeared, now green and dim. Xarreus sat in silence for a moment, questioning himself.....his life, his birth, his choices... his strength, his destiny, his family... his oath, his death, the training incident, what in the nine hells was happening... at this point he noticed the walls had taken on a different texture. Something soft falls against his cheek, and he whips his head to see his downy aggressor. Nothingto his side, but a black feather now rests on his thigh. Long, almost impossibly long, growing longer as he looked at it until a feather the size of a battle axe lay across his lap. The walls swelled inward... once..twice... continuing in rhythm... "Breathing! That sound.... but it's not mine..."

Xarreus had been in many tense situations before and stared down magic wielders without flinching. This was something else... This power was beyond anything he had experienced.....

*KRA-KROOM!*

The entire room shook, and several dozens of onyx feathers, much smaller than the one in his lap, fell about the room. Xarreus focused his eyes, squinting through the pale green light. The walls swelled inward. A pattern revealed itself, hundreds of times... feathers! The entire wall was covered in them. They were so deeply obsidian that only the flicker of green delineated any definition in the dark. His angelic guide came back to mind.
"Tadriel! Tadriel where are you!? Have I been forsaken? Why do you abandon me!?"
From the ceiling corner, a small opening of white....then a bright green eye opened, more than 2 feet across, its focus flitting about the room then settling, unnervingly, on Xarreus. Startled, he tried to move and realizes the black ooze in the room is now up to his knees. They felt encased in stone!!! He grabs each leg and pulls; stands and tries to walk but falls back into his seat.

The room swells inward until the walls are only a couple feet away from him, then a blast of air hits the inner confines, blowing the black feathers and down around the room in a blinding whirlwind. An impossibly black beak takes shape along the corner of ceilings and walls, leading back to the enormous eye. A disgusting crackling sound, Iike ice breaking, emanates from the walls as a huge raven's head takes shape and twists it's way off of the wall, making a few extra unnecessary turns to focus its single eye on Xarreus, its beak inches from his face.
"What do you want with me?" inquired Xarreus.

"What do you want with me?" Retorted the birds head, imitating Xarreus speech but in a loud whisper.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Why are YOU doing this?" Replied the Raven's head.

Then fear crept into Xarreus's mind... he felt the radiance in his body grow and his eyes start to glow...his hands were shaking but his mind was being swallowed by his desperation.

"Your fear....draws me. Your path, intriguing TREE-GING. Invest in you.... master wants Master wants!" rasped the raven's head.

Xarreus's eyes burned, but he stopped shaking and asked "What do you mean?"

"My Masssterrrrr..... wants youuu, wants you!" the head whispered.

"I serve no evil! I live to smite those that would do harm to the innocent!" Xarreus yelled back.

"Aaand the guilty?"

"You mean Justice? I serve in the name of justice. I was born to and I accept this destiny!"

The raven screeched, forcing Xarreus to cover his ears and cringe.

"Master hasss many enemies, MANY enemies..." the raven continued "She serves no masterrrrrr..."

Xarreus didn't feel as afraid, but was increasingly curious as to why this was all happening. "What does she want from me?" He asked.

"Our master, the Queeeeen....seeks champions... seeks victors.... seeks DEATH."

"I WILL NOT SERVE AN EVIL MASTER!"

The raven's head leaned upwards and cackled in response. The mouth stayed open. The head turned back to Xarreus and, from within the mouth of the raven, it appeared an egg was being pushed out of it's throat. Before falling out, the egg rotated itself until a face turned to face him. The visage wore the raven's head like a hood and cowl. The egg shell was actually it's skin, but it bore the same stark, icy white. The eyes were dark and the features were definitely elven.

The countenance began speaking, a different voice than the raven's, this one like an impossibly loud whisper.

"I am an emissary of the Queen, and she wishes to gift you with power."

"Why?" Xarreus inquired.

"The Queen serves Life and Death, fascinated by all of their aspects. She purifies souls in the heat of their own misgivings and fear. She sets free those imprisoned in their own mind. She told me that you are special. She told me you could be more so. She told me to come for you and she told me you would ask why. Tell me...your faith falters, and your nerve is weakened... do you think you can still fight?"

Xarreus just stared back at the face, grasping for the words to defend himself. This whole ordeal was shaking him to his very core. What had he done to attract such evil into his heart?

"The stench of your malaise offends me, but my Queen.... my Queen said to keep the faith. My Queen seeks to bless you further, child of the stars. My Queen wants you, as one of her own..."

A clawed arm extends from the wall, opening to the ceiling. An image appears.... of a warrior wielding an ephemeral weapon and destructive magic. He commands his enemies to obey, he controls his foes movements and he vanquished his opponents without remorse. As he turned, Xarreus was face to face with a masked man with glowing green eyes. The man removed the mask, a smooth and mouthless that only left openings for those glowing green eyes, and Xarreus saw his own face. He saw power, still bestowed upon him by greater beings, like his paladanship, but this power was more symbiotic. It fed him as he fed it.

He was then shown images of Waterdeep, in flames.... peoples of all races shackled.... sacrifices...tributes...abuses of power.... his hometown twisted into a refuge for evil and the will of good people being thrown under the collective rampage of tyranny. Winged horrors scooped up innocent civilians and guards alike while the city burned beneath them. His breath was caught in his throat as he witnessed the execution of his own father and a single tear ran down his face.

"What hell do you show me now? I will not be manipulated," Xarreus spoke through gritted teeth.

"A likely future.... one you are not prepared for... . One you cannot prevent," replied the pale, elvish face. Its cadence of speech beginning to slow.

Xarreus looked away, into the black pool that now sat just below his navel.

"Good and evil.... are a matter of position.... many forces weave fate.... but I can guarantee a dreadful future for you..... my Queen says it is so. She gives power when it serves her. She doesn't seek to mislead... this was done to her... She wishes to learn... She watches... She waits. Time means nothing to us....Your life, means nothing to me.... Your pain, your fear, your loss..."

The head pulled back inside the raven's mouth as it closed and the one eye and beak fixated on Xarreus's face. The now disembodied voice whispered...

"I can take these from you, but you must take from me. My Queen will not betray you. She seeks champions that need her power. The choice is yours..."

Xarreus waited for more, but there was silence. He looked at the image above the claw and again saw himself, wielding a power he had never seen and deftly so. Weapons would appear in his hands; crossbows, swords, pikes, hammers, and more and his strikes rattled the vision with additional magic. To his surprise, he saw himself conjure a weapon he had never seen; a length of chain, with a slightly larger, rounder ring in the center and two viciously shaped bladed links at each end. Not only had he never seen one, he had never seen someone fight with such a weapon. He could not wrap his head around how to wield it as much as the foes could not determine how to defeat it.

The Raven's head cackled and leaned in so the enormous eye was near Xarreus's face.

"*CAW* Our choice weapon *CAW* our pride you saw."

"Enough of this....let it be known..."

The Raven's head pulled back into the upper corner of the room. Xarreus continued...

"Let it be known, if there is any attempt to twist my hand into doing wrong, I will renounce this power or use it to end you."

The Raven cocked it's head to one side, then the other.

Xarreus thought again of his family.... of his friends.... of his guard unit.... of Kenton and his lost brother...

"I accept this power, and will use it to serve you as I see fit."

The Raven raised its head to the ceiling, smashing into it with an audible *THUMP* and shaking hundreds of feathers to the floor... It began cawing and cackling as more feathers began to fall and the sound of thousands of creatures flapping their wings filled the room. The feathers landed on the pool of black and dissolved into it. They landed on Xarreus chest and shoulders and turned to an oil that coated him. He looked town to see the pool of black was rising again and was coming up to his chest. He tried to raise his arms but they felt encased in stone. He looked up to see the Raven's head, seeming laughing at him, as it faded back into the wall and only the eye remained. The eye floated to the center of the wall and began to grown. A feather landed across Xarreus face and the moment he tried to blow it off, it seemingly melted to his face and stuck to him, marking his face with a cool black ooze.

He turned to face the eye one more time, now half the size of the wall. It blinked once and edges curled up slightly, like ones eyes do when they're smiling. The eye them closed, the green candle flame grew several times in size, which only served to illuminate the black pool, now touching the bottom of his chin. The windows then burst open and gallons of black ooze flooded the room. Xarreus took a deep breath before the dark swallowed him whole.

...
...
...

Nobody heard from Xarreus for a weeks time. He was found by his father, concerned about his son's mental state, when he realized it had been almost a week since seeing him. After asking around and becoming aware that no one had seen him, he rushed to Xarreus's quarters and broke down the locked door. He was promptly taken to the barracks infirmary.

He wasn't injured, but he had an incredibly high fever. At the same time, though he slept almost another week between bouts of consciousness, there was an aura about him that made everyone treating him uneasy. It was palpable. One nurse said she could see a purple energy around him one night when she did her rounds. He didn't appear to be in any pain and the local cleric did not recognize the happening nor cast any spells that helped.

Xarreus's mother visited him everyday. She noticed it first. The dark aura that had surrounded him vanished, like night and day, and his mother clutched his hand at his. His eyes fluttered open, their same soft green glow comforting his mother.

"Thank the gods!" As she wrapped her arms around him.

...
...


2 weeks pass, many questions and some examinations before Xarreus returns to guard duty. There were some changes in his squad's roster and he resented himself for not being able to smooth things over with Kenton beforehand.

Meanwhile, his private moments were filled with discovery and practice. He took the time to visit schools of magic around the capital to gain some understanding. It wasn't until he saw a Raven on a guild crest that he began finding answers. There were no schools for warlocks that he could find, but he did make a friend. The guild master was a devotee of the Raven Queen, hence the banner, and he happily elucidated Xarreus on the nature and history of his chosen patron.

"Though some say that She chooses you."

Xarreus sputtered, and the guild master turned around with a grin.

"I was told someone would be coming. To tell the truth, I'm as surprised as you are," he continued "She is known for her curious nature and she thinks you are special. For an Aasimar to be special for more than just that, fate must think you its plaything."

"I didn't come to be teased like a child. I came for answers" he replied, unimpressed.

"OH dear, you must loosen up a little! You have a gift and now is a time to celebrate! There is much for you to learn and I will pass on what I know. See me tomorrow evening, behind the Yawning Portal and we can begin your training."

Thus it began, a foundation laid in holy rites, interrupted by human flaw and rekindled in the heart of the Raven Queen; Xarreus Hiltera had found the path to his destiny.

That's quite possibly the largest backstory I've seen on this thread, with dialogue as well. 

Nice

Yeah, it really ran away on me yet I couldn't help myself from continuing! 

Back-story go YEET

I have to stop myself from going all Silmarillion-level family tree on my characters. Some cultures know all their great great grandparents, cousins, 2nd cousins, half-cousins twice removed, the neighbors' cousins and so on. If I picked a race that tends to have such a community, I have to remember that the character is leaving all of that and try to figure out a reason to dismiss all the woven community history and how not to burden the DM with things for which the character no longer cares. If the character doesn't know all the relations, that frees up the DM to run with it. It's not easy for me to let go of my character's story to let it become our character's story that we (the party) all write together.

I have that sort of issue. I use a website called Parf Edhellen, which translates Tolkien's Elvish languages into the common tongue. I name a lot of creatures and monsters using this, but my players always get confused when I say the name in elvish. Probably my most Tolkien elvish was when I created the Anar'Ithil Taure. See if you can translate that.