https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... tcount=667
Shako;24368251 wrote:Hello Tawmis,
first of all: awesome thread, thank you very much!
I'm getting (after pretty much 3/4 year break) finally back into the game.
I know you just did a goblin, but maybe you won't mind another one:
Haven't picked a name yet, but that hardly matters, let's go with Tuboox.
What I have:
Name: Tuboox (male)
Class: Sorcerer (Divine Soul), Hexblade
Alignment: Chaotic Good
He lost his mother early on during a raid of some adventurers, which made him want to be able to protect those he cares about (and left him with slight mother-issues and a weak spot for any matriarchal figure).
While becoming an adult he took part in a raid, as goblins tend to do, but was shocked when he found out that his comrades where killing women, too! To make it worse: some have been mothers!
So he distained himself from his tribe and (somehow) found religion. We're about to start Rise of Tiamat, I only read some about the gods there and haven't made my final pick. I thought Sune, Selune or Tamara would be fitting.
So since I had a few pending requests - and I saw another goblin request besides yours...
I will be tying your origin into theirs in a way (keep an eye out for Zax's character story when I get to it... if I stick to what I have in my head)
I had fun writing this goblin; and showing the contrast of good and evil, even among a race known to be evil...
And adventurers just killing whatever is in their path..
Would love to hear feedback!
Enjoy!
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As a part of the Hek’taun Clan (which, in Common loosely translates to ‘The Charging Warrior’) of goblins, I was always different than the others.
It was a tragic night when a small band of adventurers, seeking shelter from the rain, entered our cave to hunker down and wait out the raging storm. One of them – a dwarf – had taken notice to the passage we used further back. Familiar with the stonework, the dwarf found the secret passage that we had hidden. The other adventurers, curious as to why there was a hidden package, snuffed their campfire and moved deeper into the cave. This led them further back still, directly to Augun’dor (‘The Stone Fortress’) – our home. Recognizing us as goblins, the adventurers quickly launched an attacking, killing the goblins before them – one of them – I can still hear her scream when she was struck by an arrow – was my mother.
Only a few of us had managed to escape, fleeing our home.
Boon’tah, our Shamanistic leader, who had made pacts with demons to gain his powers, and led the escape demanded that we get revenge. We gathered what weapons we could and launched an attack on a small farming town, mainly composed of humans not far from Augun’dor.
“We must kill the humans,” Boon’tah hissed as we slowly approached in the cover of night. “They will keep sending more. They will keep encroaching on the lands until their infection has spread from the top lands to the mountains!”
In the heat of the moment, with his eyes ablaze due to his sorcerous origins, it was easy to get caught up in the moment; and realize that it had not just been a human who attacked the village; but there’d been an elf, a dwarf and even a halfling.
But Boon’tah, who nominated himself as the new War Chief, since Gouktah died in the initial attack, seemed to be a natural leader; and with the power of a demon behind him, surly we would never fail.
And I admit - initially, with my mother’s death cry still piercing my heart, I agreed with Boon’tah; but as the attacks commenced, my own people were attacking women; some of whom were holding their daughters and sons, so that they took the killing blow rather than their children.
I grabbed Boon’tah by the shoulder, “We have to stop!”
Boon’tah turned, his eyes, fiery red with rage, “No, Tuboox! We’ve only begun! We will purge the lands of all who stand before us! And that includes our own kin! So step down or burn by my hands!”
I looked around and my entire clan seemed to also possess the same fiery look in their eyes as if Boon’tah was somehow manipulating them all; but why was I not like them? Why did I not have the fiery eyes? Why did I feel different?
I ran to a human woman I saw stabbed, and placed my hand on her, “Please hang on; your children need you,” and that’s when it happened; the glow on my hands as I watched the wounds mend.
The woman – ugly by goblins standards – but probably beautiful by human standards, was a tall female; her red hair, like lava over erupting from her head, pouring down her milky, white body, with eyes so green – it reminded me of the color of a good, healthy, goblin.
“All are my children,” she smiled, as she placed her hand on my forehead. “All who believe in seeing beyond the skin, the flesh, and seeing where the truth of beauty resides.”
The battle around me suddenly seemed to move in slow motion.
“Who are you?” I asked, as if nothing else matter.
“You know who I am,” she replied. “I have been with you since you were born. I sensed you would be different. This is how you are protected from the demon who surges in your War Chief’s blood. You must forge your own path – make a difference. A great darkness approaches and I need you to try and be the light that fends it away.”
Suddenly, it all went dark – and I stood in the center of a decimated town. Many dead lay around me; both human and goblin – but there was no sign of Boon’tah.
I suspected I would see him again…
https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... tcount=669
OzDragon;24368730 wrote:Name: Grumgar
Race: Mountain Dwarf
Alignment: N
Class: Path of the Beast Barbarian/Open Hand Monk
Background: Outlander (Bounty hunter)
Born from the womb of a mother Killed by a werewolf. Takes dead or alive jobs mostly and they never come back alive.
The rest I leave up to you
I had some fun with trying to explain why a Werewolf would have killed a Mountain Dwarf female...
And realized, this was a chance to tie in a Dwarf's origin...
Into a recently written Goblin origin...
And make these two connected in a very strange way...
So hope you enjoy what I did (the connected origins do not need to be connected, obviously, it's more of a "Tawmis-Verse" connected thing)...
I would love to hear your feedback!
Enjoy!
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War was just a part of living in the Great Grey Halls, the name that described the dwarven home of Durin’gar (“Home of Eternal Stone”).
The Grey Hall Mountain Dwarves, deep in their mountain home, shared their space with the Hek’taun goblin clan. While the center Durin’gar – the center of the massive dwarven city – was aware of the endless war with the goblins, they were generally not impacted, due to the massive Dwarven army that surrounded the entire city and kept its interior safe.
One of the members of the great army was Greybeard Banestone, a well-respected soldier. His beautiful wife was well known for her ability to smith and forge weapons, shields and armor to support her husband and the army he so proudly served, and her name was Bella Banestone.
Greybeard had been sitting at large, wooden table, sitting across from his wife; a rare chance that both were somehow not pulled away from one another. She’d been slowing down considerably, after learning she was pregnant, allowing her to spend more time on the days and nights that her husband was out of the rotation, defending the great wall that surrounded Durin’gar.
“How has it been?” she asked as she poured a cup of tea.
“The goblins have become more violent,” Greybeard said as he took the cup and warmed his hands. “More persistent in their attacks. I’ve seen their Shaman… he looks as if he’s changed. More … crazed than he’s been in the past. The War Chief, Gouktah seems to bend to their shaman’s demands. Despite all of my problems with the goblins which we war with, I at least knew Gouktah was more honorable, at least for a goblin. He’d never murder women and children… the shaman that stands at his side now… does not seem to have that same moral compass.”
The goblin shaman was a deep goblin by the name of Boon’tah who had begun delving into the dark arts of necromancy and demonology after finding an old wizard’s tome and unlocking the magic that allowed him to communicate with a demon. The demon whom Boon’tah had made a pact with allowed him to summon large dire worgs to his side and assist in the assault on Durin’gar.
Unbeknownst to Boon’tah, his latest spell to summon Dire Worgs to his side had brought an unintentional addition. Nor Fenvell, a human who had been infected with lycanthropy and hiding in the mountainous caves for shelter had changed into his wolf form; bound by the full moon that commanded him. Somehow, whether because of his canine nature or the working of the demon who sensed the great evil in the caves; ensnared Nor Fenvell to the goblin’s shaman side. Boon’tah saw this as an omen – and launched the next wave.
Life for those in Durin’gar were about to have their lives drastically changed.
Magically enhanced Dire Wolves, led by the werewolf Nor Fenvell, broke through the wall of guards, cutting them down, ripping out throats and leaving a blood trail as they continued their onslaught, with the goblins equipped with swords and spears following close behind.
Hearing the screams, Greybeard grabbed his axe and ran out the door and was greeted by the sight of goblins and dire wolves within Durin’gar’s walls for the first time since documented history. He turned to his wife, “Stay here. Lock the doors. Get your axe. Do not come outside. Do not open the door.”
With that he slammed the door shut and ran out to defend Durin’gar. He’d left without his armor, Bella noticed with dread; but this was what Greybeard would have done. He was not forgetful – he saw his people in danger and reacted immediately.
The screams drew closer and Bella began throwing on Greybeard’s armor and gripped her axe. The door burst down and to her surprise, it was not a goblin that stood in the doorway – but a beast that appeared to be a mix between wolf and man. She swung her axe and cut deep into it, but the beast bounced on her, throwing off her balance, and proceeded to begin ripping out her throat, before leaping off and moving on to continue the onslaught.
Bella lay there, bleeding to death, her sole concern was her child she felt in her womb. She struggled to stand but had lost too much blood. The world spun beneath her feet. She heard a voice next to her whisper, “Just breathe.”
She looked up and saw it’d been her neighbor, Jolla Stormsword. She’d been drenched in blood. “My baby,” Bella whispered.
“We’re going to get you through this,” Jolla whispered. Jolla had been a mid-wife and experienced; she knew already that Bella would not survive this night, but that she might be able to save the child.
The child that Jolla would go on to name Grumgar was born into the world with the sound of an infant crying; and when Jolla looked down at Bella, she’d already left the world.
The goblins and dire wolves had been driven back, finally – but the city of Durin’gar was in ruins. Hundreds were left dead or dying. Jolla, in the years that followed, noticed the Grumgar had an unusual savage side to him. She suspected that due to his mother and father being killed had done something to him. Jolla’s husband, Fhar Stormsword had died in the onslaught, so Jolla gained help from the community to help with Grumgar. One of the dwarves, Len Firesky, had traveled the world and become what was known as a Monk. He learned inner peace and how to center his soul and spirit, and thus channel the magical energies generated natural by his body. He took on trying to take care of Grumgar when Jolla could not to try and tame the savage side.
But Grumgar never felt like he belonged; he had always felt different so at a young age, he left Durin’gar to find his own path – and for years he lived in the wild, learning to make a living by becoming a bounty hunter. Something in him had made him a good tracker, and his dwarven bloodline gave him the fortitude to chase anyone down, no matter how tired he might become.
But on nights – mostly when the moon was full, and he felt an unusual energy pulling at his soul – he remembered the teaches of Len Firesky – and finding a way to find his center without losing himself in the savage beast he could feel himself becoming.
https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... tcount=672
moonfly7;24370340 wrote:Tawmis, it's been awhile since I've asked for your help, but I have a new idea I really want to see you write.
I have an idea for a warlock named Tenkin Malbrook, his subclass and pact can be whatever you want. Here's the basis of his backstory: his parents for some reason made a contract with a fiend that promised her their first-born son’s hand in marriage when he turned 18, I don't know why that's up to you. Tenkin grows up knowing nothing of this contract and wants to travel and see the world. Somehow, he learns of the contract (maybe his parents tell him or something) and he decides leave home now before he turns 25, when the contract goes into effect. His warlock pact features and invocations are gifts from his betrothed to try and make him feel better about her. Also, last bit, she doesn't really care if he dies during his adventure because of he does, the contract ensures that he'll simply spend his afterlife with her anyways.
I trust that you'll be able to write motives for both the fiend and parents, and once again thank you!
This turned out longer than I anticipated! But stayed under my hour writing time rule!
I really got into the plight of the parents as to why they'd make such a deal...
And giving the demon in question - a reason/need for being wed...
I enjoyed writing this!
Would love any feedback you have (if you liked it, hated it, whatever the case may be!)
Replies help keep this thread bumped and alive! ALIVE!
Enjoy!
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The Malbrook name had been one that had always been well respected in the small farming town of Greenhaven’s Edge. They were a young farming couple who worked hard and had been the main source of the town’s food – for the people, as well as for the businesses such as the local tavern and stores. Tourar and Kreena Malbrook had been a humble couple; despite how much the small town loved and celebrated and appreciated them.
However, an unusually harsh winter storm that lasted nearly four months had relentlessly remained and destroyed their farmland. What had not been damaged by the freezing weather had been destroyed by the flooding melting ice that drowned all their remaining crops.
The people had turned to the Malbrook family; and though they had all endured what they called The White Burn, there had always been the expectation that the Malbrook family would somehow provide. They had, after all, provided through some of the most incredible rainstorms; but this – this had been much more different, far more destructive and relentless.
An older female, passing through the town, found that there was little for food and resources when she stopped at the local tavern, seeking shelter from the brisk, chill wind that still lingered. The inn keeper, a human, aged and grey, with a spotted red beard explained that the Malbrook family had a harsh winter and now the entire town was suffering. Even a simple piece of fruit was fetching an outrageous price because there was so little resources for food.
“Unfortunately, the apple will cost you six gold,” Yourk said, itching his fiery beard. “I wish it could be less. But we don’t have much food left here.”
The woman reached into her pouch and slid six gold coins across the table.
“The winter storm had damaged and flooded major roads; making traveling to smaller villages even more difficult as there was little done to maintain those roads,” Yourk explained, “so it was a matter of time, before even the trade merchants did not visit the small farming town. Kreena and Tourar were the ones who used to be the main folks who provided food for us.”
“And they live in this town?” the mysterious woman asked as she bit into the apple. She pretended to not notice that the others in the small inn were staring at her, as she bit into what sounded to be the most luscious apple in all the world.
“They do,” Yourk replied, gesturing to the south, “six houses down from here.”
The mysterious woman took one final bite of the apple and set it down, before pulling her robes about her and opened the door; a cool, chilling breeze filling the inside of the small tavern.
When Yourk looked over at the apple she’d left on the counter, much to his surprise, it appeared as if were rotten.
Kreena Malbrook was alarmed when a knock had come to her door. She stood and looked across at her husband, Tourar who was startled from his nap. Kreena quickly made her way across the living room and to the front door, hoping it was one of the many merchants whom she’d formed a rapport with. As the large wooden door creaked open she was surprised to see a beautiful blond woman, golden curls poking out from beneath the cowls of her hood.
Kreena sighed softly. “If you come seeking food, most of our stock has been sold to Yourk for his inn. What little we have is for my husband and I.”
“I am here to help you,” the woman replied.
“Help us? How?” Kreena asked, moving to the side to let the woman in.
The woman removed her cloak and revealed a young, attractive woman, so much so that even Tourar caught his own breath.
The woman reached into her pouch and pulled out a parchment that seemed to be older than all of them totaled together. She unrolled the yellowed parchment on the table. Kreena peered at it with intense curiosity then looked at the woman. “What’s that? Looks like some form of ancient language? How is that supposed to help.”
“It’s infernal,” the woman replied.
Kreena gasped. “The demon’s tongue!”
“Yes,” the woman smiled coyly. “The demon’s tongue.”
“How is that supposed to help us? We won’t make deals with demons,” Kreena said firmly while looking at Tourar who still seemed entranced by the woman’s gorgeous appearance. “Tourar!” she yelled, snapping her husband’s attention back.
“Right,” he finally said, clearing his throat with a cough. “No pacts with demons.”
“Your people are suffering,” the woman said. “I was just at Yourk’s inn. I paid six gold for an apple, and the people who gathered there watched me eat it, as if it were the last food in all the world. I have traveled these roads. I’ve seen their condition. Most of the roads are flooded still, with three feet of mud and muck that no wagon will pull through. Some roads even have trees and rockslides that have blocked the roads here due to the flooding from the melted ice. Your people will soon have to leave their homes and leave these buildings behind if they hope to survive. The community here is in jeopardy of starving or abandonment.”
She looked between Kreena and Tourar and said, “I will leave this here for you to decide. Speak these words here and I will return.” With that she rolled the parchment up, slid the tie around it and left it on the table. She pulled her cloak over her shoulders and smiled, “Thank you for your time.”
She walked out and closed the door gently behind her.
It was moments later that another knock came to the door. Kreena swung the door open and said, “We will not make a –“
She paused, seeing a young woman holding a crying infant.
“Mabella,” Kreena said, recognizing the young woman. Mabella had just given birth to young Jarek several weeks ago. “What’s wrong?”
Mabella began crying. “I can’t… I can’t afford food anymore. I’ve not eaten in days… giving everything I buy to Jarek… but I am out of money and Jarek is starving. I don’t know what to do.”
Kreena turned towards Tourar and heaved a deep sigh. Her heart sank. “Go back home, Mabella. I will visit you soon.” Mabella turned, crying, and left.
As the door closed, Kreena looked at Tourar. “We must do something.”
“We can see what the woman wanted,” Tourar replied, looking at the parchment that seemed to be glowing on their large, bare, wooden table.
Kreena took the parchment into her hands and unrolled it. Each roll of the parchment, she could swear she could hear the screams of a thousand souls and felt as if she wanted to run away. After opening it, she saw the first line in the parchment, which had previously been illegible was now clear. Kreena spoke the words and no sooner than the final word leaving her lips did a knock come to the door. This time Tourar opened the door and was not surprised to see the mysterious woman, who once again entered their house.
“So, you’ve considered my offer to help,” the blond haired woman said, removing her coat. Her gorgeous, golden locks seemed to bounce just above her firm bosom.
“How would you help us? And what is the cost to us?” Kreena asked, rolling up the parchment and placing it on the oak table again.
“My name,” the woman explained, now for the first time, Kreena and Tourar noticed her eyes were purple, “is Vo’leena. As you might have guessed,” her skin changed to a slightly tannish color as her teeth turned to fangs, and small horns protruded from her head. She was still, to both of them, one of the most beautiful women either had ever seen, “I am a demon. I have the power to shape the land, so that I can make your gardens bloom with food. However, in order to maintain my hold and my ability to walk the mortal planes, I need anchors.”
“And what would those anchors be?” Kreena asked.
“Children,” Vo’leena smiled. “Allow your first born to wed me and give me children that will have my blood, and that of a mortal, creating anchor points for me to remain. My current husband is old, no longer able to give me children. The more I have, the stronger the anchor I have to the mortal plane. So I seek a new husband.”
“We have no children,” Kreena said softly. “We are not able.”
“Remember,” Vo’leena smiled. “I can make any garden bloom. Even,” she placed her hand on Kreena’s stomach, “that of your womb.”
“You could… give us children?” Kreena asked, shocked.
“I would only require your first child to be mine,” Vo’leena replied.
It took nothing more than that; and both Kreena and Tourar agreed.
Vo’leena smiled and looked outside and uttered a few spidery words of magic; and the old apple tree that had bore no fruit, no green leaves; suddenly began to bloom green leaves. She turned and faced Kreena and Tourar. “So it begins,” she smiled, as they pricked their fingers with Vo’leena’s dagger and dipped their finger on the parchment.
Within a week the town rejoiced as the Malbrook farm began to sprout plants, roses, and fruits and vegetables. Life was quickly returning to normal.
It was a short month later when Kreena suddenly felt different, and eight months after that, that she gave birth to their first son, Tenkin. Tenkin would be the first child, of eight, to be born. The children worked hard around the farm as they grew up, but by the age of sixteen, Tenkin was already yearning for something more. Something in him felt different; as if something in the world called to his very soul.
While cleaning up the barn Tenkin found an old chest, buried at the very back, beneath some hay. Curious he dug it up and found what appeared to be an ancient parchment. When he brought it to his mother and father wondering if he had found something of great value that belonged to some old, ancient wizard; his parents told him the truth.
“That’s her then,” he had said, his parents surprised that he wasn’t upset.
“Who?” Kreena asked, now older, grey streaking her once red hair.
“The woman in my dreams,” Tenkin explained. “I keep dreaming of this beautiful woman who swears she’s meant for me. Some mornings, I find gifts in my room that have mysteriously appeared there. I assume they’re from her. I also feel magic surging in my body, another gift from her no doubt. Well, I don’t know her and I don’t want to be married.”
“But if you do not marry her, we don’t know what happens,” Kreena said, her voice sounding broken. “Your brothers and sisters, the farm…”
“She’d never do anything to them,” Tenkin replies. “She needs me too much. I need to leave. See the world. Perhaps in the end, I may honor the vow you’ve forced upon me. But not today.”
Tenkin left his home; and both Kreena and Tourar waited for the farm to fall apart, the souls of her children to somehow be reclaimed; but none of that happened.
Now they worried that Vo’leena might seek revenge on their eldest for rebuking her marriage…
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Svantis;24372855 wrote:I absolutely love what you're doing here because I like creating new characters but I'm not as good at writing them a proper backstory
The one I’d love a backstory for is a high elf noble who's 1 level arcana cleric followed by divination wizard - My idea is that he's always been decently proficient with magic and is given power by a god and a mission that he needs to do sometime in the future after improving upon his powers. He's too arrogant to receive powers from a god or anyone for that matter however and decides to become a divination wizard instead, still training to complete the mission that he knows he someday must complete. Thanks in advance for doing this, I hope you around to doing my character.
I've actually never played a Divination Wizard, so this was new to me - to see how to make it fit.
It was a dangerous balance of making your character sound like a Sorcerer rather than a Cleric turned Divination Wizard with how I described him.
You didn't provide a name - so I just created one (Talaron Skytree) that you can change to fit your character.
I added some lore of (Speaker of the Moon, Crescent of the Moon) these can be changed to whatever you want them to be... I was just thinking something High-Elf sounding... reminds me very much of Dragonlance (I think in Dragonlance it's Speaker of the Stars? I need to re-read the books!)
Hopefully you enjoy it!
(And I leave it up to you and the DM, in regards to his trainer Phey, as to what he is... is he a High-Elf... or is he more?)
Feedback, as always, is appreciated! Keeps the thread alive and bumped!
Enjoy!
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As an heir to the Speaker of the Moon, Talaron Skytree was expected to be blessed by the gods. Descendants of the Speaker were always the “Chosen Voices” of the gods to bring the message of the deities to mortal ears.
At the age of six, Talaron Skytree began having unusual dreams of an elegant and beautiful woman visiting him, assuring him that he was destined for greatness. Perhaps it had been the constant frequency for which she would go on to visit his dreams, or perhaps it was the fact he did not enjoy the idea that his own destiny was in his hand, or it could have been the fact that he was a High Elf, and like many of his people, he was simply too arrogant to be someone’s servant – and to that of a deity.
Being a descendant of the Speaker of the Moon blessed his bloodline with magic, which Talaron was already displaying by the age of eight. He was capable of healing wounds as well as causing lights and torches to flicker and dance.
During the Ceremony that would have officially made Talaron one of the Crescent of the Moon – meaning he would be one of the few to be eligible of becoming the next Speaker of the Moon when the time came – however, Talaron renounced his position to the utter shock and gasp of the others.
Talaron would focus on taking short rests so that the goddess who frequented his dreams had minimal opportunities to speak to him.
His father was furious – but Talaron demanded that he find his own destiny. He entered the Academy of the Magi, and with his touch of magic began to learn how to shape his magic as Wizard might, rather than be restricted to the words and demands of the gods, such as Clerics.
Talaron’s instructor, a High Elf with flaming red hair and green eyes (like the woman who haunted his dreams) looked at him and smiled, “Many seek the counsel of a diviner, for all seek a clearer understanding of the past, present, and future. As a diviner, you will strive to part the veils of space, time, and consciousness so that you can see clearly. You work to master spells of discernment, remote viewing, supernatural knowledge, and foresight. And,” his instructor smiled, “perhaps find the path of one’s destiny – and perhaps, along the way – find your own.”
Talaron’s instructor, Phey, continued to allude to destiny during each training session, to where Talaron began to question if Phey was all that he appeared to be or something more.
https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... tcount=685
Jaryn;24373728 wrote:Long time no post in your thread! It's time for a new campaign though, which means a fresh shiny character. If you wouldn't mind, I'd love your take on this! He's going to be a wizard, but his first level is going to be in cleric.
Name: Kelwyn Blackthorn
Race: Human
Class: Cleric (knowledge)
Background: Cloistered scholar
Alignment: Neutral good
Age: 21
Str 9 Dex 14 Con 14 Int 16 Wis 13 Cha 10
Skills: Perception, religion, insight, history (expertise), arcana (expertise), athletics, investigation
Feat: Resilient (Con)
Kelwyn is a trainee librarian and has been apprenticed to a wizard along with a few other students. An excellent scholar, he has mastered a few spells despite not having a spellbook, although some of his magic is a bit different from that of his peers. Pleasant enough, although occasionally a little shy, he enjoys games and sports unlike many of his friends!
Some of the senior librarians feel he might benefit from time away from the library, so they have set him the challenge of going out into the world and finding the tools of the trade for a wizard. He's rather excited about the prospect and, equipped with his trusty crossbow and some scale mail, is looking forward to his first real adventures.
This was a relatively easy character to slip into.
I enjoyed coming up with The Great Tome, and how it works... (I do love a little spice of lore!)
Also, I did yours next because you donated to the paypal in my signature!
I figure that's got to be a benefit of donating to "my writing cause!" So thank you again, for donating!
Hopefully you enjoy the origin I've painted for your character!
As always, I'd love some feedback if you have any - if you loved it, hated it, thought it was "just all right" - what you liked, hated, enjoyed, despised! You know the drill!
Enjoy!
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The Great Tome, as the Library had been called, was a place of complete silence. However, you could hear someone turn a page to a book from the other side of the Great Tome, and thus could hear someone whispering. The Great Tome was designed to capture sound and allow it to be heard all throughout the entire library. Some would have thought this an unusual mechanic, however, everyone who came into the Great Tome knew anything they said would be heard by everyone else, no matter how gently they whispered. This ensure everyone remained silent, and turns out, not such an unusual design after all.
Kelwyn Blackthorn was a human, like several of the other students in the Great Tome, who were librarians in training, learning the painful lessons of organization and note keeping that was highly demanded of all wizards. Kelwyn Blackthorn was young when he first took up an interest in reading. His hobby soon had him devouring knowledge about The Gods and how they bestowed magic upon their faithful. The idea of Magic chased Kelwyn’s imagination to every corner imaginable. Kelwyn, when he was old enough, took The Vow – which bound his soul and devotion to one of the gods. Through constant practice an tedious religious practices, Kelwyn was soon bestowed by the powers that allowed him to heal those who were inflicted or wounded.
However, that had not been what he imagined. He’d seen other – Wizards – who manipulated the very fabric of the air to shape magic and wield it without being blessed by the gods. This is what had captured Kelwyn’s imagination so long ago. He inquired with his parents in regard to learning how to be a Wizard; and though both his mother and father were disappointed – they believed his wisdom could have been better used for the Holy Cause – they immediately supported their son’s choice. Kelwyn’s father inquired with a friend, Kraynar, who had been an old friend of his and a seasoned Wizard. Kraynar took Kelwyn under his wing and spoke on his behalf when it came time for Sponsorship for The Great Tome.
Although he’d been ecstatic to be accepted with a Scholarship into The Great Tome, Kelwyn was different than the others. Most kept their noses in their books and did not enjoy the occasional games, which Kelwyn had learned to enjoy as a part of his time during the Cleric’s Temple, as a team building experience. The Wizards he’d found did no such thing – it was always study, write, copy, sort, order and rinse and repeat. Still, the idea that one day he would be shaping magic with his hands, at his own whim, enticed Kelwyn to continue his studies.
Several months into his Scholarship, Kraynar approached Kelwyn and said that he’s learned all he can at the Scholarship and it was time for him to venture into the world and uncover the magic that awaited. When he asked about the other students, Kraynar assured him that they were not as ready.
Though hesitant at first, Kelwyn knew that Kraynar had been studying magic well over forty years; if anyone knew how to recognize potential, it was certainly him. Donning on his scale mail at home, and loading his crossbow bolts into the quiver, he prepared to leave – as soon as he could get his mother to stop hugging him and crying on his shoulder, that is…
https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... tcount=689
Mr Fabulous;24372887 wrote:
Name: Zax
Race: Goblin
Class: Warlock (Fiend Patron)
Short Background: Zax never knew his parents. His entire tribe were slaughtered by a band of adventurers when he was a baby. The adventurers spared him, not being able to bring themselves to kill a child. Seeing he had nobody left to take care of him they took him in and raised him. The party named him Zax and told him that they had found him abandoned in the woods.
9 years later, while the party were camping outside the ruins of a diabolical temple, a mysterious entity revealed herself to the goblin and showed him a traumatic vision of what really happened to his family. Zax was enraged. The visitor comforted him and nudged him to take revenge. He did not need much convincing. Zax killed the cleric in his sleep, though the commotion woke the rest of the party and Zax escaped into the night.
Alone now, the visitor, revealing herself to be the archdevil Azzometh, talked Zax into making a pact with her so he could take care of himself without the protection of his former foster family. All Zax had to do were favours for the fiend here and there when asked. Zax, eager to repay his new friend and the only being to ever tell him the truth, happily agreed. Azzometh's first request was to find and aid a group of adventurers who were working to defeat the ancient dragon Lowen.
Party Makeup: Duhvon Frostbeard - Dwarf Abjuration Wizard. Taught Zax how to read, write and a bit of arcane lore.Mialee Galanodel - Elf Sword and Board Fighter. Was the most distant of the four.
Isabella Greycastle - Human Thief. Taught Zax how to effectively lie, hide and pick locks.
Corrin Tosscobble - Halfling Trickery Cleric of Lither, the god of Water, Knowledge and Trickery. Happy go lucky. Killed by Zax in his fury.
So it's funny - knowing I would be writing this - I ended up using your character concept to help write two others... as a way to "tie in the Tawmis-Verse" - naturally, these origins can exist without knowing one another; but for me, it was a nice and easy way of making it - that perhaps all of this is happening in the same universe kind of feel - so if you want to check those out...
https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... tcount=667
https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... tcount=669
Zax was pretty easy to write! I like what you provided (obviously since, as I said, I used it for a "root" for two others) - I provided a reason why he slit the throat of the person he did (hope it works with you)...
As always, I'd love feedback. Especially with the enforcement of not "bumping" this thread - replies will help keep this topic near the top!
Even if you just say "I hate it!" or "I love it!" or whatever more details you want to share!
As always - Enjoy!
================================================
Zax stared down at the dagger in his hands. The moon reflected brightly in the blade that had been colored in thick, rich, deep, crimson colors. The blood, which covered most of his blade, had been that of a Halfling named Corrin Tosscobble – up until a few moments ago, it’d been one of Zax’s closest friends. Corrin had been a Cleric of the Lither, the god of Water, Knowledge and Trickery – and it had been that trickery that had drawn Corrin and Zax so close to one another. Zax enjoyed the occasional mischief brought on by Corrin; and now here he was, a goblin, who had just slit the throat of his best friend.
The others, still sleeping, included Duhvon Frostbeard, a Dwarven Abjuration Wizard who had been the one who taught Zax how to read, write and a bit of arcane lore. Mialee Galanodel was the Elf Sword and Board Fighter who was the most distant of the four. And finally, there was Isabella Greycastle, the Human Thief who had taught him how to steal and lie. She had not been present. She was somewhere, keeping watch.
Zax had considered slitting the throat of the others, but truly it was only Corrin he was the most angry with. He’d been the one that the goblin had felt the closest to. He’d been the one that betrayed him the most.
“Run,” the shimmering image before him whispered, “before Isabella returns.”
They had all come to investigate a temple that seemingly rose out of the swamp water and generating unusual magical vibrations. The party had decided to camp outside the mysterious temple before heading inside, knowing that there would be no time to rest inside. Undoubtedly the temple was ripe with evil.
It’d been, as it turned out, the temple to an ancient demon, once long ago, whose name now has been stricken from the history books and forgotten.
It had been that demon who surfaced and detected the adventurers near its temple. The inherit goodness of the Cleric was like an alarm. The demon appeared before the goblin as a shimmering image and peered inside the mind; wondering why a goblin, a creature the demon had known to be inherently evil, would be traveling with these others. Finding nothing, the demon then peered into the Cleric’s mind where he saw the truth and shared that truth with Zax.
They had lied to Zax and told him that he’d been abandoned by his tribe, and found by the party in the forest, who took mercy upon him and took him in. The truth was much more different.
Zax was a member of the Hek’taun Clan (which, in Common loosely translates to ‘The Charging Warrior’) and lived in Augun’dor (‘The Stone Fortress’). The party had stumbled upon the goblin home (having been asked by the nearby human town about goblins who had been stealing from their farms.
The party had found the goblins and slaughtered them all; save Zax. Unable to bring themselves to kill an innocent infant, they took Zax in and cared for him, raising him, hoping he could be different than the other goblins.
They had high hopes that he could, perhaps, even become an emissary between the humans, elves, dwarves and halflings – and the goblin population, especially as he developed the ability to read, write, and learn magic.
But the demon showed only the slaughter – the way in which the party murdered every goblins standing before them. The demon did not show Zax the caring and compassion, and the moment of doubt the adventurers had when they found Zax and wondered how they would care for him. How they had hoped he would be an emissary. All of that remained hidden. All that echoed in Zax’s mind was the screams of his people – including his own parents.
In exchange, the demon promised Zax power. Power to exact his revenge.
https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... tcount=696
Maxiboy;24373325 wrote:
Hey Tawmis!
I saw your posts in my thread since last night (thanks for the feedback by the way!) and your signature reminded me of this thread, which was one of the first ones I read through when I first joined the forums back-when. I'm glad to hear that you're still writing new backstories - it seems like there's a lot more requests now that the forums are back up from maintenance, and I was wondering if you'd like to take a shot at one of my first characters when you get the chance.
Sadly, the campaign that I played as him in was cut short only a few levels in. I had a backstory but it was quite rushed since I was new to the game, but I think it'd be nice to build upon it since I'd like to pick him back up for a future campaign to continue his legacy. :smallsmile:
Name: Maxi
Gender: Male
Race: Foxfolk (Homebrew, similar to tabaxi feature-wise)
Alignment: Neutral Good
Class: Cleric (Light Domain)
Background: Outlander
Maxi was always on his own, growing up without knowing any other foxfolk or at least people who treated him with respect for it. He lives by himself out in the wild in his own shabby cabin, spending his days away from any sort of civilization and wishing to find friends who will accept his company. This has lead him to seek religion to get his mind off it and think more positively. Though, with his new-found powers as a cleric, he only further dreams of becoming some sort of hero, both to prove he's worth something and get some attention for once. He occasionally ventures out of his comfort zone in hopes of finding a quest to take his first step towards that dream...
While usually anxious and naive, he likes to be creative when it comes to art and problem-solving. When I first drew the reference of him above, I accidentally gave him a hammer instead of a mace... so the joke became Lathander transformed his regular, boring mace into the much cooler, shiny hammer that Maxi would draw in his doodles, in an attempt to motivate him to get out more and become a true adventurer.
This is roughly what I had for my first go playing him, I'd love to hear what you'd add or change.
Thanks again. :smallbiggrin:
This was different - and fun - to write. I tried to write a shy, timid, if not awkward around people, type of person - based on what you gave me.
You'd mentioned he was the only Foxfolk or that treated him as such - so I actually wrote him as (in the beginning) - being one of a kind - but he learns a secret by the end.
I hope you enjoy what I did here!
I'd love feedback (even if you didn't like it!)
Feedback not only helps me - but with the replies help keep this thread alive and floating!
Enjoy!
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They say that everyone in the world is unique.
That there are no two people alike.
My name is Maxi, and as I gaze in the mirror, not only do I realize there are no two people alike; as far as I know, I was the only one of my kind. I recall pieces of my childhood growing up in the forests; raised by foxes.
When I was approximately five years old; a man found me in the wild and took to raising me. He taught me how to speak, to read, to write. He showed me that I was different than the very foxes that raised me, despite my outward appearance of looking like something between a fox and a human. He admitted to me he was not sure what I was or where I’d come from.
The human, an older man, whose beard was now streaked with shades of grey was named Laren Thalar, claimed that long ago, he was famous Paladin. (As it turns out, years later, when I did some further research, I found no evidence of his names attached to any of the historical moments he claimed to be a part of).
One thing Laren spent time teaching me was the gods. He believed that perhaps I was a gift from the gods; and if so, it would have probably been Lathander, the Morning God, who was specifically known for his creativity, renewal and birth (among a few others). But Laren believed that perhaps, Lathander had blessed one of the foxes in the den to give birth to someone different – something creative – me.
As such, I spent my early years, researching Lathander, reading the tomes of books that Laren would bring back after visiting the nearby town; trading furs and meats for more books for me to consume through reading.
Because Laren had done all the trading himself, he’d never taken me into the town, for fear of how people might react to me – a creature – a person – like me, for which none had ever seen before.
I began to draw pictures of myself, on some of the older books and empty pages, of what I might look like as a hero. Much of what I drew was inspired solely by the only armor I’d seen – Laren’s, and though Laren had an old mace that looked as if it had seen a lot of use, I envisioned myself with a hammer to smite the evil of the world.
There’d been a yearning inside of him to see the world. On the day he gathered up the courage to tell Laren, he discovered the old Paladin had died in his sleep the night before. Laren took the Paladin’s mace and armor and decided he would go out into the world.
It’d been that first night when I had a dream of Lathander himself coming to me and telling me that I was not alone. That my own parents had been killed by a tribe of vicious Orcs known as The Red Eye Orc Clain. My heart brimmed with courage – and the need to find my parents killing and seek out justice – to bring like to the darkness and squelch the evil of the Red Eye Orc Clan.
In my dreams, my hand gripped my weapon – which felt different.
Just as I gazed down, I awoke from my dream, to find my hand around Laren’s old mace, now reforged as a hammer.
Coming in through the only window in the shack, was the morning sun…
Goldlizard;24377034 wrote:
Name: Aumu
Race: Chakara (
https://dm-clockwork-dragon.tumblr.com ... hakara%20 )
Alignment: NG
Class: Life cleric (Path of Light)
Known: He comes from the mind of a Githzerai monk in limbo, teleported into the normal world by a twist of fate. He favors the Orange Sacral lotus, followed by the Heart and Third-eye lotus. He is friendly and peaceful, believing in the goodness of people. He does keep a good damaging spell for those who are better off dead than evil and is blindly faithful in his friends. His biggest fear is the seventh Lotus
Not being familiar with the Chakara - I read up on them (the link in your original post is broken; but the game and the general URL was enough to get me what I needed!)
So, based off of what I read (three pages to the race) - and having never played it - I am making a few assumptions in this origin that may or may not work.
Hopefully it does; because as the concept continued to roll as I wrote it... I actually enjoyed it!
I just don't know if this is exactly how this race works!
Hopefully, if it doesn't work - you still enjoy the background!
As always, would love to hear feedback - especially with the mods dinging me for "bumping" - so replies will help ensure this thread stays alive!
Enjoy!
=======================================
“Hold them back a moment longer!” Do’raun, a githzerai monk, defending their temple, which floated in the chaotic storm of the dimensional plane known as The Limbo. An opposing force, the Blue Slaad – a humanoid frog like creature with enormous claws on their hands – bred by infecting their hosts, in this case, the githzerai. The Slaad had been sent to destroy the floating temple, because that githzerai were pulling magic and energy from the Astral Plane, for which the Limbo connected to.
The Githzerai had sensed a great power source through the Astral Plane that could be the key to finally defeating the Slaad and ending the eternal war that had been waged. Do’raun tried to shut out the sounds of his companions dying all around him as he projected his mind into the Astral Plane in an effort to find that which they’d sensed.
However, just as Do’raun projected his mind forward, one of the Blue Slaads ran its claw through his heart. His mind already veering into the Astral Plane, his sudden death had tried to return to his body – but the chaos of the Limbo and Astral Plane projected it wildly – perhaps it was only for a few seconds, perhaps a few days; it could have been years, or even centuries – but when it reawaked, it was neither in the Limbo or the Astral Plane – but the Prime Material Plane. It seemed to wander – when suddenly, over time, it began to develop a form – reborn as a Chakara.
He’d used, what was called The Third Eye – or the Purple Lotus – to gain insight to understand the people of the Prime Material Plane, and learned a great many things, such as the wide diversity of personality traits and races that walked this world. Using the Heart – or the Green Lotus – he learned to value friendships and connections. Though many initially reported fearfully when seeing him, he always emulated a sense of peace, calm and creativity. Learning that mortals of this plane adopted names, the Chakara who only had fractured memories of his former self, adopted the name Aumu.
As he learned forge bonds, one of the things that struck a chord with the compassion, was those who prayed to the gods; mended the wounded and tended to the sick. As he learned more about those who called themselves Clerics, he began to take further interested. He began to volunteer at Temples, somehow, sensing at one time, he was connected to a Temple of some kind. This also taught him about mortality and the preciousness of every second in life mattering. He wanted to help these mortals, and perhaps find the answers to the shattered memories of his own. He was soon recruited by the Temple and began the life of a Light Cleric. Seeing that Aumu was capable of taking care of himself, his fellow Clerics informed him, that he would be good for spreading the words about the gods; and healing those along the way he encountered as proof of love and grace of their gods.
They warned Aumu that the world, however, was full of dangers. And traveling alone was not recommended.
“Adventurers,” Father Haynor, an elderly human, who soon would be ascending beyond the mortal plane, told Aumu. “Find adventurers. They’re likely to go where there is dark and evil; and vanquish that which threatens our world. They will need you. Your power. Your magic. And your connection to the Light. And perhaps, with them, you will find the answers to the questions you ask yourself, when you awake each morning, and feel there’s pieces of you that are not complete.”
