D&D Character Background Challenge (It's Own Thread Now)

[Tawmis]

https://forums.giantitp.com/showthread. ... st25680583

Hey there! First off, I'm amazed with the number of backstories and people you've helped through this thread, and reading through what you've written has been pretty inspiring. I'm hoping you can help me with my character's backstory. I have a concept, but I'm having trouble fleshing it out and enriching it.
Name: Illunius
Race: Shadar-Kai (formerly an elf)
Class: Oathbreaker Paladin
I'm somewhat inspired by Xiao from Genshin Impact where fighting demons day and night for over 2000 years has him accumulating karmic debt and corrupting him to the point that his presence is harmful to most mundane individuals. So for my character, instead of breaking an oath, he instead gained a curse or something similar that twisted the divine light within him, allowing him to channel the very powers he swore to fight against. Once a beacon of light, as he still is, he now also stands as a beacon for darker entities, and if he isn't careful, he might succumb to them.
He was formerly a regular elf but later gained the Shadar-kai features as part of the curse or corruption.
Personality-wise, he's got golden-retriever energy but with a dangerous edge when push comes to shove, and despite the curse or corruption, he still tries to make the best out of his situation and for those he holds dear.
I hope what I wrote makes sense.

The hatred between Elf and Orc has run since the age of gods.

Gruumsh, god of the orcs, bore a seething hatred for all elven gods – especially Corellon, creator of the Elves, whom he had waged many wars again – and lost. This urge to fight and slay, especially elves, was infused into the genetic make-up of the orcs in the world. Even amongst the gods, did many fear and respect the bloodthirsty rage of Gruumsh, but Corellon never heeded the warnings.

When the gods gathered around the world and staked their claim; Gruumsh quickly realized each land was taken, mountains by dwarves, hills by halflings, deserts by humans, forests by elves; he grew furious and pierced the land and shouted that orcs would adapt and dwell everywhere and be infused with the desire to reclaim the world as their own.

My name is Illunius, and long have I faithfully followed Corellon as his weapon and his warrior against the darkness that would seek to reclaim that which has long been the home to the elves. I come from a long line of other Paladins of Corellon; my father before me, who instilled in me all that is right and just. He showed me how to hold a shield and swing a weapon. He was there when the time came for me to take the first orc life I would ever take. My grandmother before him was also a Paladin of Corellon, and she was proud of what she stood for. Her strength was more than just physical. The way she stood, the way she looked, when she entered the room, without uttering a word, she commanded the presence of all who beheld her; and for generations before her, my family has always had someone who bore the crest of Corellon and fought for his light.

For generations, just as the orcs had been infused to strike at all before them – especially elves – had my family been infused with the light, the passion, and the calling to fight those very forces.

Since I was young, I have walked the walls of this city, buried deep in the woods. Since I was young, I have rushed out, with others like me, to defend the land from orcs, and other beasts that would dare seek to harm those beyond the walls.

Since I was young, I have seen death. I’ve watched the vile orcs die; stuck on the end of my blade, the life draining from their eyes. Some of them, there have had anger to the end. Some of them, I’ve seen regret and fear, as the shadow of death comes for them.

Still, there was never mercy to be given. They threaten my home, my family, and my friends. I’ve seen companions who have faithfully followed Corellon die next to me, hearts pierced by crude weapons, forged in hatred.

Since I was young, I have defended these walls. It has been over three hundred years now; a never ending bloodshed from the never ending enemies that rush these walls to bring their shadow and evil into a place of light and love.

Three hundred years of this and it has changed me. I became detached at the task at hand; my blade moved and cleaved without emotion, without thought, like a leaf falling from the tree. My body moved to simply kill. When there was no enemy, I was inside the walled city, a prisoner to the darkness that grew around my soul, like infection weeds in a dying garden, choking the light and bringing in the slithering darkness.

The light of my soul was fading. Even the morning sun began to hurt my eyes. I longed for the night shift, so I could walk under the watch of the pale moon’s light. It’d been such a night, when I cast my eyes towards the one moon that lingered in the night sky, her bright light shining down on me. No stars were seen that night, as if they’d all fled or been devoured by darkness. As I continued to stare at the moon it seemed to get closer or I was floating towards it. Suddenly the lack of stars began to become more noticeable – and the one moon changed to an eye – an eye that never sleeps. Gruumsh!

My eyes snapped open and the moon’s light was still there, but the stars returned, flickering. I stood and shook my head, making my way back to my home. It was there, as I gazed into the reflection of a pool of water, I took notice.

It was not just that the sunlight had begun to bother me; but my once, golden hair, that shined bright like the sun, had lost its color – it was now deathly grey-white, like the moon. My skin, now almost grey in color – the life, drained from me. I had stopped being a light for Corellon and had simply surrendered to the never ending hatred, war and blood. I’ve lost my way into the shadows and darkness.

I needed to get out. I needed to get away.

Since I was young, I have fought in an endless war.

And it has cost me my soul.

[Tawmis]

Been busy with people requesting character backgrounds!
https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... count=1033

So far your backstories look amazing! I have to admit, I also made an account just to reply to this thread. Would you be able to write just a short and quick backstory for my character?
Name: Otto Glittergear
Gender: Male
Race: Forest Gnome
Class: Clockwork Soul Sorcerer
Age: 35
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Otto grew up in a small Gnomish forest village named Undercreek. He inherited his power from his ancestor who helped build some of the first Modrons. He is not only part of an adventuring group but also a Sorcerer's Guild, and he is paid to cast spells for people (like casting Lesser Restoration on a poisoned villager). He has a younger brother named Percy who lives in the same kingdom as him but in a different city. They visit each other (typically) once a year.
I only really need a short backstory, so it doesn't need to be essay-length.
Thanks!

You have a good short summary already!
But to really get a feel for your character - I had to step back further, to how you mentioned an ancestor working with a Modron.
I wanted to see how that came to be - and from there - built forward.
It became easy as I looked up Clockwork Soul Sorcerer (never played one, myself, so I had to check) - and the pieces feel into place.
Some fun notes - the mention of "Kwint Stormbellow" - and the saying - comes directly from the book that the Clockwork Sorcerer is in.
You ancestor being named "Bhaut" is a reference to your character's name. Otto + Bhaut. Autobot. Transformers.
Anyway! I had fun writing this - hope it's just the right length!
Would love to hear feedback in the thread as it helps keep it bumped and alive!
Enjoy!
======================================



There are rumors – and rumors that the dwarves quickly dismiss – that the innate desire in so many gnomes comes from their direct relationship to Dwarves, who enjoy the forge. Dwarves are quick to explain that there is absolutely no relation between Dwarf and Gnome; though many would argue that both enjoy creating things, their stout size, and their pride in the work that they do.

Otto’s ancestor – too many generations to even remember now – supposedly worked on the Modrons. According to legend, Otto’s ancestor, Bhaut Glittergear was out with his best friend Kwint Stormbellow, who was also a gnome – but a rock gnome, when a malfunctioning Modron crashed near them from the sky. The two rushed over to see what had crashed – and discovered the malfunctioning Modron that was repeating the words, “Anarchy… Chaos… Urgent… Mission… Damage… Murder… Comet… Diagnose… Critical… Trajectory altered… Location… Unknown.” It repeated the same message over and over. The two friends looked at each other and without saying a word began to lift and carry the Modron towards their mutual tinkering shop that was at the base of the mountain.

“I swear,” Bhaut Glittergear growled. ““Every 289 years, the entire multiverse goes mad. Like clockwork.” (As a side note – his best friend Kwint laughed so much, he constantly repeated the phrase and became the one who is quoted as having originally said it).

Together, the two relentlessly worked on the Modron, until it suddenly reset – sat up, and said, “Running diagnotics… repairs… completed. Mission parameters can still be met.” Without so much as a thanks, the Modron quickly exited the shop and departed into the heavens.

Little did either Bhaut or Kwint realize, that the long hours that they’d spent working on the Modron, day in and day out, was infusing their body with magical energies that altered their very genetic being. Every couple of generations someone on each side of their family was born able to inexplicably channel magic effortlessly.

Growing up not far from where his ancestor had worked on the Modron; Otto grew up in Undercreek, a forested village, whose forest grew right up against the Undermountain, where the lab was. The lab, over the generations (and the ever-expanding story of Bhaut and Kwint working on a Modron) was now much larger, and home to many gnomish artificers who constructed various objects and created new potions (both of which, had the occasional explosive, but rarely lethal results).

In Undercreek, life was much simpler. When Otto first surfaced his magical abilities, his family wasn’t at all surprised. It’d been quite a long time since someone in the family exhibited magic; even his younger brother, who saw Otto develop magic had hoped he too would also be able to do what his brother had done. Unfortunately, Percy, like many others before him, was not born with magical abilities. While Percy moved to Undermountain to study to become an artificer, Otto remained in Undercreek for quite some time being employed by the developing Sorcerer’s Guild that answered to the needs of the people, providing services such as Lesser Restoration for the occasional gnome who consumed the questionable mushroom found around Blooming Lake (named for the numerous plants and vegetation that grew around the lake due to the amount of nutrients the lake provided, undoubtedly from the depths – which had not been fully explored – of the lake).

While Otto was content in Undercreek, being near his people, his brother, and feeling useful around the town, providing services and being a part of an ever-growing guild – there was still something else he longed for.

Deep inside, there was something gnawing away at him. Something beyond Undercreek or Undermountain. Something beyond the walls of the forest or even the mountains. There was an entire world out there to explore and see. And yes, there was dangers to also be considered – but something about it – called to him.

One night, while visiting Percy at Undermountain, Otto explained that it might be a while before he sees him again; and that he was going on “an adventure.” When Percy asked where, Otto shrugged his shoulders and simply said, “I am not sure to be honest. But look to the moon as it moves across the skies, like seconds on the clocks; and know I will be watching the same moon. We may be far apart, Percy, but we will always be watching the same moon.”

https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... count=1036

Are you able to write a backstory for the villains of my campaign? Here is a brief summary:
They're all Eladrin of different seasons. Their names are:
Spring: Berenus Bloom (male)
Summer: Erevan Blaze (male)
Autumn: Valoria Bluster (female)
Winter: Aurora Bitter (female)
They are all lawful evil and wish to conquer certain domains in the Feywild. For example, Berenus wants to conquer the Spring kingdom. When he does so, everything about spring is "amplified" - flowers and plants bloom and grow so much that the entire kingdom is overgrown and difficult terrain. If Valoria conquers the Autumn kingdom, the winds will become so strong that leaves constantly fly in your face, and giant pumpkins block the path.
They all want to conquer their kingdoms and then work together to overthrow the king who lives in the middle of each of the kingdoms (in a neutral city named Mossbottom).
Are you able to find a way of linking the four Eladrin with a backstory? Why do they want to overthrow the king, apart from just gaining power? For information, the king is a bullywug named King Clunk XIV.
Thanks!

So typically Eladrin can shift their forms to other seasons...
But this seemed as if each one was stuck in the season they represented.
So I wanted to figure out - "Why" are they stuck representing that particular season?
The Queen I selected - her race could be changed to be Elf, or whatever - I just picked what I did because of the magical indications of it.
Anyway, this was just a real quick... this one makes it too easy as to why they'd be plotting against the king...
I may come up with another one... but here's one for now!
Enjoy!
=====================

There is no bond deeper than blood shared by family. Rarely, can such a bond be severed.

When King Lazrick learned that his wife, a well-respected and well-loved Dryad of the Evergreen Woods in the Feywild was finally pregnant, he could barely contain himself. He leapt about with joy, announced new holidays for the kingdom every other week, simply to celebrate the ever approaching day of his child. Several weeks into the pregnancy however, his wife, Krassila, complained that she was not feeling well and placed her hand on her stomach. Her body shivered with terrible coldness, her skin as cold as death itself; then, a moment later, searing hot. Her eyes would go from a deep green to deep orange colors uncontrollably.

When a Priestess of Life was called in to check on Queen Krassila, the Priestess was happy to report that it would seem that Krassila – who had been trying to get pregnant for years – was now going to give the King twins. This doubled the King’s joy! More holidays! More celebrations!

However, several months into the pregnancy, the symptoms returned and the Priestess of Life was called back. The Priestess, after examining Queen Krassila, had a look of deep concern – and King Lazrick leaned forward dreading the words that would spill from the Priestess’ lips. Instead, still in shock, her face pale, her eyes lost in the depths of endless questions, she turned to King Lazrick and said, her voice breaking, “I do not know how to say this… or how this is possible…”

“Go on! Go on!” the King urged. “Say it, Priestess! My heart is faint! I cannot take this waiting!”

“It’s not twins,” the Priestess finally said.

“What?” The King was shocked. “Is it triplets then?” He was ready to burst with excitement.

“I am afraid not, my King,” the Priestess said.

“Then what? What is this news that pales you so?” the King demanded.

“You will be having quadruplets,” the Priestess whispered.

The King was overjoyed until he saw the Priestess’ face. He paused and looked at her. “Why do you remain pale, Priestess?”

“I believe it’s the children who make her ill, my King,” the Priestess said. “It’s as if a storm rages within her belly, my lord.”

“What would you have me do? Destroy my own children?” the King asked appalled.

“Of course not,” the Priestess bowed. “I know that your life is long, as an Elf, and that you have longed for your lovely wife to bare you a child. I merely worry for her own health, my lord.”

“Your Queen, the incredible Krassila, is far stronger than the greatest warrior in the feywild,” King Lazrick growled.

And so, Queen Krassila gave birth to four children; born within moments of one another. First was the boy Berenus, whom King Lazrick held in his hands and thought how this boy would one day sit on his throne; next was Erevan – another boy! The King rejoiced! The brothers would keep one another company! Next was the girl Valoria, she was beautiful – and Krassila would love her deeply! The last and final child was Aurora, another daughter! How wonderful, thought the King! The two boys, the eldest, will one day rule my Kingdom! I shall teach them to be gentlemen and wonderful rulers! And Queen Krassila will have her two daughters whom she could teach to be proper ladies of the Realm!

In their youth, the children were loved by the Realm. Everyone rejoiced at the opportunity to see them and speak with them – but as the children reached their teenage years, something became very clear. Initially most had thought that perhaps the inherent powers of Krassila being a dryad had been why these children were seeing as being sometimes emotional.

Berenus seemed optimistic and hopeful; often said to be the most stable. But Erevan was not so calm; his blood ran hot all the time, believing he deserved to be the heir to the throne and that his “elder” brother was only an elder by mere seconds. Valoria almost seemed to be down; though she never cried, but when she walked through gardens, rose petals often fell and the leaves would turn orange, like the color of her eyes and begin to fall. Aurora was the one many feared; her heart seemed cold and rigid as she grew older, caring little for others around her. Even her breath emanated mist as if she stood in some artic region.

It became clear, as the four children left their teen years behind them and grew that something that had been long forgotten had come to the surface. Though King Lazrick looked to be a normal High Elf, who called the Feywild his home, like many other High Elves – in truth, he was an Eladrin. But he had learned to control his shifting seasons and had able to manifest himself to appear, simply as a High Elf – and he’d done so for so long, that it wasn’t until his children exhibited these Eladrin traits that the people remembered. There was no shame in being an Eladrin – they were simply elves who were shaped by the endless magics of the Feywild, having been infused with the boundless wild magic that ran rampant in the Feywild, so much so that it had genetically changed them to represent the four seasons of the world.

However, an interesting development had come because King Lazrick had fallen in love with a Dryad, perhaps the mixture created something unique – each of his children represented one season specifically. It became clear this is why the Priestess had warned it were as if the Queen had a storm within her belly when she was pregnant…

Berenus represented spring; as he grew older, leaves grew around him, life seemed to bloom all about. Erevan, with his envy and fury, ran hot all the time; his flesh the color of the burning sun, emanating heat all around him. Valoria was Autum, as the leaves and nature around her because to fall and change to match the colors of her orange eyes. Aurora, the most callous of them, was frigid like the North Winds of Frosthaven, and she represented Winter.

While normally the Eladrin purebloods could shift to represent the seasons of their mood; King Lazrick’s children were stuck in the Seasons for which they represented. At first this seemed fine, but as the magic of the Feywild coursed through the children; magic that ran so rampant and in uncontrolled doses, so did it impact the moods that each of them represented. Berenus found that his father was lacking in taking care of the land that his people farmed from. Erevan simply wanted to be the first son, so he plotted at times to kill his own sibling; but Berenus assured him he had no interest in the throne. Valoria was the epitome of self-loathing and she grew to despise her father. Aurora, her heart as cold as the whitest winter, cared for no one.

Madness crept into the veins and minds of King Lazrick’s children.

Soon, each plotted against him. Berenus wanted to reclaim the land and promised Erevan the throne, should he help dethrone their father. Aurora agreed to this plan, though she had planned to immediately dispose of her own brother – which ever one – who dared take the throne from her, and Valoria, not wanting to be excluded from this event with her siblings whom she was bound to, also agreed.

And so madness was born, and so too, was a plot formed to over throw the king… to over throw their father.

https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... count=1038

First thing first: hello!
I've been reading through your thread for a while now, and your stories are amazing (I haven't read everything yet but so far each and every story was a masterclass)! I absolutely love your pacing and how, despite the number of stories you wrote, they all feel unique and they still leave room for players' creativity, it's remarkable.
I was wondering if you could come up with a backstory for my centaur druid, as I'm not really a creative person (I think her name is indication enough of that)
Name: Hippogyne [shedoesn'thavealastnameyet]
Race: Centaur
Class: Moon Druid
Age: 26
Personality traits:
If someone is in trouble, I'm always willing to lend help
I often get lost in my own thoughts and contemplations, becoming oblivious to my surroundings

Ideals:
Honor. If I dishonor myself, I dishonor my whole clan

Bonds:
I would do anything for the other members of my old troupe

Flaws:
I overlook obvious solutions in favor of complicated ones

Additional information:
She has a frontal, unicorn like, horn. It doesn't do anything and she's too tall to make any use of it. It hasn't been decided yet if her whole clan has a horn or if it's just her (it's up to you if you decide to make use of that information)
She's very close to her mother, Agape
Centaurs are non-monogamous so most members of her clan were her step-siblings

There's very little fully established things about her story, but I know that she wants to prove herself despite her shy and polite nature and that her dad calls her "his little filly" despite her being an adult, and that's pretty much it!

Hah! This was fun to write!
Having an open ended thing to write left it wide open...
And I tried to cover why you have some of the traits, bonds, flaws you mentioned above in the story...
I did end up playing the relationship between your character and your father, more than your relationship with your mother...
But the father bit near the end could be swapped out as the mother (just need to change the nick name calling)... but to me the father fit more here.
Some of the things that I mention I figured I'd link...

Image that Inspired the Father “Shadow” - https://i.pinimg.com/originals/42/d5/6b ... 9393fa.jpg
Image that inspired the Mother “Agape” (except with white hair instead) - https://about-mythical-creatures.weebly ... 7_orig.jpg
The Forest Walker (Skerrit) - https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Skerrit
Titanite - https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/ ... kistan.jpg

Anyway, as always, would love feedback. Good, bad, whatever you have!
What worked?
What didn't work?
What did you like?
What did you dislike?
Love feedback! Keeps the thread bumped and alive!
Enjoy!
================================


There is a saying among humans; that there is no bond stronger than the blood that is shared by family. Perhaps our own human like trait borrowed from such a saying, because as Centaurs, the tribe I come from was non-monogamous, and so each of us was family to one another, which created an incredible bond between us. No one would seek to do harm or betray the other, because in order to do so, you were in fact, betraying your own family.

My name is Hippogyne, and among the Centaurs, I was still quite young, only twenty-six cycles passing. My mother was an elegant centaur; her upper torso was a beautiful shaped woman who wore a leather tunic. Her hair was as white as the snowcapped mountains, but it wasn’t due to age – it was merely the color of hair she’d been born with. That same color came in the form of her long, elegant tail as well. Her eyes were piercing blue and to lock gaze with her was like staring at the heart of winter if she was angry with you; otherwise, it was like gazing into the most refreshing lake. She was primarily a gatherer for the tribe, gathering herbs, berries and fruits for the tribe’s survival, but she was also one of the best with a bow and arrow; most said she was a better hunter than those who’d been designated as part of the hunting side. Her name was Agape, and I was very close to my mother.

My father was named Shadow, named after his dark black hair that he wore long, untied and unkempt. He also had a beard that helped cloak most of his face beneath the darkness of his long hair or black beard. He was one of the Hunters – and he was exceptionally well at it. (Though many would tease him that clearly his time with Agape had taught him how to hunt). My father was wonderful and enjoyed my mother quite a bit, as he often came around to check on her and me, though he had no true obligation as he had many other mates and children in the tribe.

When I reached the age of sixteen cycles, I developed an intense migraine – and my mother was there to comfort me and tell me that it was fine. It was a symbol of power. She pointed out that others in the tribe, who had antlers or horns – and explained that this means, magic runs in my veins and that those blessed with the horns and antlers were touched by the Forest Walker (some called him Skerrit). Magic was an intense headache for another two years, as a single unicorn-like horn eventually developed. Shortly after it had grown to its full length, the migraine subsided. True to my mother’s word, I could soon feel the energies of unseen magic flowing around me, like another layer of air blowing in the wind.

By the time eighteen cycles had passed I was brought to the Circle of the Stone Forest. In truth, it wasn’t even a forest unto itself – rather it was five large stones, standing each ten feet in height, made up of titanite – and the Arch Druid, another Centaur by the name of Evergreen, claimed that The Forest Walker himself placed these gems here as a symbol of life. In low light, they were the pale green of the woods, but when the light struck them just right, they flared orange, yellow and red, the symbol of the sun blessing the woods with the life giving energies.

Within the Circle of the Stone Forest, when we gathered – energy would connect from stone to stone, forming a protective circle around those inside. It was my time with the Druids that I learned that the Druids were the designated protectors of the Woods. The tribe had the gathers, such as my mother, Agape; they had the hunters, such as my father, Shadow; but it was the Druids who called upon the Moon’s light, and the night’s Darkness, to grant them the powers to protect the woods from those who would seek to harm it, or the people within it.

I’d been twenty cycles and out on my own, patrolling the borders of the woods. The sounds of combat caught my attention and I stepped closer to the edge of the woods. I watched as a human woman with fierce red hair, like a beautiful burning fire, singlehandedly fought off three very large, muscular bugbears. She looked to be in trouble, but she also seemed to be quite capable.

“Do not encourage attention to the woods,” my father always said. “Kindness to strangers will only welcome betrayal to the heart.”

I continued to watch as this brave woman fought off the bugbears. She was capable, but she was clearly beginning to show signs of exhaustion.

“Protect the woods,” Evergreen had said. “Keep the dangers out, and those that come in, destroy them if they refuse to leave.”

I grimaced and charged forward – revealing myself, which startled the bugbears who saw me emerge from the woods – I quickly cast Entangle, entrapping the bugbears. The woman, whose back had been turned to me, looked over her shoulder, equally as shocked to see me as the bugbears had been. “Run,” I shouted. “I will hold them.” Thankfully, bugbears relied on melee weapons. The woman quickly fled into the woods, running by me, breathing heavily, thanking me. Not in the woods. Not in the woods. I wanted to scream.

I chased after the woman into the woods, forgetting the bugbears behind me now. Catching up to her quickly I frankly said, “You need to get out of the woods. I didn’t mean for you to run in here. Just away from the bugbears.”

“I just need a moment to breath,” the woman heaved deeply. “Then I will exit your woods. I know the bugbears won’t come in here. They know your kind protects these woods.”

“You are the root, the tribe is the tree,” my mother would say. “To damage the root, you damage the tree. Do what you can to feed the tree. Acts against such a thing will bring dishonor.”

“Well, hello little filly,” a male voice said from the shadows. “Who is your friend here?”

Only one person ever called me that – I turned my head and felt my cheeks burn as bright as the human woman’s hair. “Father! What are you doing here?”

“Thought I heard you,” he admitted, his bow still pulled, an arrow knocked. “Your sweet voice, child of mine, is like a songbird to my ears.” He gestured to the human woman. “Who is she?”

“My name is Amberose,” the woman said. “I meant no harm. Your daughter rushed out to help me against bugbears.”

“Rushed out, you say,” my father’s gaze drifted towards me. My cheeks burned even brighter.

“She showed courage and honor to help a stranger,” Amberose explained.

“How kind of her,” my father’s words were dripping with the sweet nectar of sarcasm. “I am glad that you are alive and well, Amberose. But I am going to have to politely ask you to turn and leave now.” Amberose turned her head, and she could see through the thicket that the bugbears had broken free of the entangle spell, but were pacing a small distance away from the forest’s edge waiting for her to come running back out. The longer she remained inside, the closer they edge, believing that perhaps the forest wasn’t so guarded.

“Father,” I pleaded. “You should have seen her – she was fighting all three of those beasts. If you send her out now, tired as she is, she will not last much longer. Show mercy.”

“Mercy,” Shadow growled the words. “This is why…” My father began, but cut off his words. He rode to the edge of the forest, and within seconds – four arrows flew, and struck their marks – two in the larger bugbear, one for the other two – each piercing the eyes of the bugbears who slumped to the ground dead. He turned his head towards the human, “Now, Lady Amberose, your path is clear. I’d like to ask you to leave again.”

My mouth was wide open, Amberose turned to my father and thanked him, than to me and thanked me as well, before sheathing her sword and making her way back out of the woods.

“This, little tilly,” my father continued his sentence he’d originally stopped. “This is why we don’t help the outsiders. They invite trouble. Those bugbears were edging closer while you were sheltering her. We have taken centuries defending these woods and creating a mystique about the woods where others believe these woods are haunted or protected by demented fey.”

I bowed my head. “I am sorry, father. I was careless. It’s just… she looked incredible fighting… but those bugbears… they were cheating… two would attack, and allow one to rest, then when he was rested enough, he’d leap in and another would back off… you should have seen her… she was incredible.”

My father heaved a deep sigh. “I told your mother there was something about you. Something different. Something special,” he approached me and tapped the unicorn like horn on my forehead, “and I don’t just mean this. There was a deeper love for things than I’d seen. You care for the world the way most of our tribe simply care for one another.”

“I know,” I sighed. “I can change. I can fix myself.”

My father laughed, and pat me on the head, the way he did when I was a child, “Little filly, you are not broken. You do not need to be fixed. Perhaps it is the tribe who needs to be fixed, and see through your eyes.” He placed his arm around me. “We’ve locked ourselves away for so long behind this forest wall, that we have blinded ourselves to the world outside. Perhaps it’s time that changes. Your mother is going to kill me for this… but, by the gods, while I don’t want that to be you… I believe you are just the right person to do just that.”

https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... count=1042

I love your work and have requested it before. I'm a satisfied, returning customer. Here is another request...
I have a Forest Gnome Rogue: Arcane Trickster. Her names is Brunhilda. She is a well-respected, high ranking, albeit retired, military official.
Brunhilda: Hero Forge
Roland: Hero Forge
Her husband (Roland is a Gnome Druid) is not yet retired and not quite as high ranking, but he is also highly regarded. They have two children, a boy and a girl. Both are grown and have chosen to follow their parents' example and dedicate to a life of military, both are established and successful. All of them still gather together for the holidays/birthdays and communicate whenever possible amidst travels. Might even become a grandparent in the near future. She has never been aggressive, but she will certainly stand up for herself (or family) without hesitation.
Now, to my request:
Based on this information, I would like your legendary perspective on her motivation throughout the past. Why did she join the military? How did she meet her husband? When did she acquire her knowledge training as an Arcane Trickster? How was that class implemented through her career in the military? What was it like raising a family while actively serving a greater purpose? What ultimately (if not just decades of dedication) brought about such renown? Why did she decide upon adventure after retiring?
I know I've provided a fair amount of detail, but I was hoping you could fill in some blanks on her motivation and events for me? I hope it's not too much detail to ask. Also, have fun with it!

Hah - I took this one for a different kind of spin. Wrote it from her perspective - but also injected so much personality (as she 'talks to herself') in the telling of this story.
She has a ton of inner dialogue with herself that just began coming out as I wrote this...
Definitely influenced by the incredible (I laughed so much!) Hero Forge image you have of her.
That spunk and fun was everywhere in that image and it poured itself right into this story.
I think I hit all the beats you wanted!
I would love some feedback on this one because it's quite different!
Enjoy!
===============================

It’s funny when your life is on the line how quickly you can make some life changing decisions.

My name is Brunhilda – and don’t be fooled by my size. Just because I am a gnome doesn’t mean when the floor drops beneath my feet my neck won’t snap. Now, one might ask how I ended up here? Is it some evil king who hangs people for the spectacle of it all?

No, just the opposite of that, really. King Jaros is well loved. Quite loved, as a matter of fact. That’s pretty much how I ended up here.

You see, all my life, I’ve been what some would call a thief. (I, personally, prefer the “Rogue” - it doesn’t sound as bad). I am often hired to try and… acquire things for high paying individuals. Sometimes someone will challenge me to try and acquire something. Sometimes, something catches my eye and I try to acquire it. (I don’t like to say stealing… because that makes me sound like a thief!)

Well something that had caught my eye was the Heart Gem – a gift given by the Elves of Emerald Wood. The forest was named Emerald Wood, because, as you might guess – the forests were lush and green, no matter the season. However, in the very heart of the forest was an ancient treant named Thousand Oaks, and from time to time, he would pull from the depths of his roots the most beautiful of gems that were buried far beneath the ground. There’s a story - I am not entirely sure I believe it – that Thousand Oak is the oldest tree in all of the world, planted by the Elven Goddess herself, and that his roots reach throughout the world and spring forth in the form of all the forests in all the lands.

Like I said, I am not sure I believe all of that – but, there’s no denying that Thousand Oaks exists – I’ve seen him (I think it’s a him? Do Treants have gender? I am not sure. He, it, has a very deep voice, so I have always called Thousand Oak a “him.” Maybe “it” is the proper pronoun? That seems insensitive. I think I will stick with “him”).

I am getting off track – at any rate, Thousand Oak gave the Elf King a red gem that, from the ground itself, looked to already be in the shape of a heart. The Elf King, in turn, gave this to King Jaros, because King Jaros had marched his own army against the goblin threat that had made its way towards the Emerald Forest. The war against the goblins had lasted four years and the Elf King wanted to show his appreciation and explained, “The heart of my people are forever in your debt, King Jaros, and so I give you this precious gem.”

King Jaros had inlaid that gem into the front of his crown, to honor the Elf King, so that all could gaze upon it. So it’s kind of his fault – flaunting the gem the way he did, that it caught my eye.

Well, one thing I hadn’t taken into account (mostly because I hadn’t heard) is that the Elf King had also given King Jaros a blink dog as a gift. I’d seen the dog – laying outside of King Jaros’ door, in the hallway, door was closed. So when I snuck in through the window, directly into King Jaros’ room – I was certain it would be fine. However, the Blink Dog had picked up my scent and blinked into the room and began barking, which awoke King Jaros, with my hand on the crown, trying to pry the gem loose – and when I bolted for the window, realizing everything was going sideways – the blink dog teleported in front of the window and growled at me – and before I knew it, six of the King’s Guards were on top of me and I was arrested.

Now, despite me explaining I was just intending to steal the Heart Gem, there was no denying I was right next to the King’s bed, dagger in hand, so they thought I was there to assassinate the King. (I can see how there might have been some confusion… being called a “thief” I can tolerate… but an assassin? Look at me! Do I look like an assassin? Well, I suppose most assassins don’t look like assassins or else they wouldn’t be good assassins… OK, I can see how they might come to the conclusion I was there to assassinate the king).

So we come to my hanging – the noose around my neck, the lever about to be pulled – and that’s when destiny would intervene and I would him – another gnome, magic-type by the looks of what he was wearing (muted browns and greens – druid is my guess). His name is Roland.

Roland turned to King Jaros, “My lord, perhaps there is use of her unique skills.”

King Jaros turned to face Roland, “What do you mean?”

“The goblin army,” Roland explained. “While they’ve been defeated and retreated away from the Emerald Forest, there is still a very large presence of goblins located in the Asheron Mountains. Someone as skilled as this one,” Roland gestured towards me with a nod of his head, “if we can get her to agree to scout the caves – perhaps get the rough number of remaining goblins, or perhaps to uncover what their next move is…”

“She’s a thief,” King Jaros shook his head.

“I prefer ‘Rogue’, my liege,” I shouted back, realizing perhaps that wasn’t the best time to intervene what I preferred to be called. I saw Roland chuckle, however.

King Jaros looked from me to Roland and back to me. “How do we know that she wouldn’t just run off the moment we take her down from the galley?”

“We can get Dazirw to cast a spell on her that would allow him to always scry wherever she goes and she knows you have infinite resources and are loved by all. If she ran there’s nowhere she could go where we couldn’t send someone to find her,” Roland explained.

King Jaros paused and shouted, “Would you agree to these terms?”

Listen, I don’t like being anyone’s lap dog – I’m looking at you, Blink Dog, sitting happily next to King Jaros – but I’d rather do that than have my neck snapped. “I agree! Happily, my liege!”

“So be it, remove the noose and bring her forth,” King Jaros demanded.

The following day, Dazirw came to the cell I was in and cast some kind of rune around my wrist and showed how – no matter where I went, just as they had said, he could see me. (I felt this was a violation of some privacy – there were private times I would need and knowing that some Human wizard could see me was a little unnerving). However, as I said – better than getting my neck snapped.

I made my way to Asheron Mountain and made my way inside the goblin infested caves and allowed myself to get captured. I explained to the goblins (by the way, they’re a filthy lot – and I am now debating if maybe the neck snap might have been the better choice here) that I had information on King Jaros and his kingdom – having recently escaped – and if the goblins wanted revenge, I could help make it happen. They were thrilled with this idea. I knew Dazirw would be scrying me so I used that to my advantage. I explained, exactly where I would lead the goblins to be able to get inside the fortress of King Jaros. Within three days, the goblins marched, in full force to the location – which, as I anticipated, Dazirw had informed King Jaros of what I’d said.

I wasn’t betraying King Jaros. Just the opposite. I had led the goblins into an ambush where King Jaros’ military force managed to kill and capture the majority of the goblins who had survived the previous war. I saw Roland there, as a part of King Jaros’ forces and watched, with admiration, how he used his druidic powers to help ensnare the goblins and prevent them from retreating. After that, King Jaros had invited me to dinner to celebrate my victory – and it was there, he gave me a full pardon. What came next was a surprise – he offered me a position in his military and said, Roland had recommended it. Honest work? For a King? Doing what I love? It’d be different.

I accepted the position.

Roland and I grew closer and closer as the days and weeks went on, eventually developing a relationship and being wed. The amount of people who showed up was astonishing – because King Jaros himself had made it a massive spectacle. I met royalty from the Dwarven and Elven Kingdoms. (I assure you, despite some very fine jewels; I kept my hands in my pockets and didn’t acquire anything).

I became King Jaros’ favorite spy and rapidly rose through the ranks of his military force. Roland and I grew closer and closer and he began showing me how even I could learn to weave the ways of magic to help benefit my own skills as the King’s spy.

After years of service to King Jaros, Roland and I had a child; a beautiful son. That’s when King Jaros told me my days as his spy were over, and that I was to focus on being a mother and the High Advisor to the agency of spies he had. This allowed me to focus on being a mother and keeping my position with the King’s military. It was just a year later, I gave birth to a daughter.

As the years rolled by, both son and daughter followed in our footsteps. They joined King Jaros’ military and were well loved by both Roland and I, but by King Jaros as well. In all my life, prior to the day I was almost hung, I’d never truly known love. That’s why I became a Rogue – I knew I was acquiring things back then because my life had been devoid of love and I wanted these things around me to make me feel loved.

Now I had two children, an incredible husband, and a King who sincerely loved me and my family.

[Tawmis]

https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... count=1042

Hey Tawmis, you've already provided me with 2 backstories and they're both amazing! However, I was wondering if you could do one last backstory - mainly because I've been asked to DM a separate group of people and I'm fleshing out a campaign idea that I've had for ages.
Basically, the entire campaign is based on the poem Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll. The Wikipedia page on the poem has some great "lore". The BBEG in the campaign is the Jabberwock (stat block from The Wild Beyond the Witchlight), and it's set in the kingdom of Tulgey (based on the line "Came whiffling through the tulgey wood"). I was wondering, is there any way to connect all the monsters from the poem and give them a connection to the Jabberwock? I have a list of which stat block each monster of the poem should use:
"Slithy Toves" - Black Dragon Wyrmling
"Borogoves" - Wynlings (from JttRC)
"Jubjub Bird" - Tlecatecolo (from JttRC)
"Bandersnatch" - Banderhobb
"The Jabberwock" - Jabberwock
Do you have a way of somehow connecting all of the monsters to the Jabberwock? The Jabberwock is of course the BBEG who needs to be killed but I don't really have any motives. Also, in the kingdom that my campaign is set in (Tulgey), the first two stanzas of the poem are told as a children's rhyme, and so obviously nobody believes any of the creatures to exist. Also, since the Jabberwock appears by the Tumtum tree in the poem, maybe in the campaign the Tumtum tree could be some form of an ancient tree that summons the Jabberwock? Could you tie that into the backstory too?
Thanks! I hope you can think of a cool way to link the villains
(and by the way, it doesn't need to be written from a 1st-person-perspective)

Heh. Can't say I ever tried to match up any background to an existing story or poem...
Especially a nonsense poem... that added quite a bit of difficulty to figure out how to tell this...
So I ended up going with the telling of the story from a bard's perspective (I am sure you will catch the reference to the Bard's name... should be obvious)...
And did it as if he was telling a story to an audience (the adventurers about to partake? Or perhaps this is an entry in the bard's journal?)
Anyway... you can take what I wrote and reforge it if it doesn't work - but managed to tap all the things you had wanted...
And added some extra stuff for the party to potentially encounter as well...
I'd love feedback because this was really a very odd one to write.
Enjoy!
===============================

Perhaps you’ve heard the story of beauty and the beast? No, no – not that one. This one is as old as time and deals with the Tulgey Kingdom – specifically the Tulgey Forest. Or, what was a forest anyway. It’s more of a swamp now.

Oh. Who am I, you ask? I suppose I should introduce myself that is the proper thing. My name is Lewus Kharroll. Some would call me a poet… a singer… a story teller. I just call myself Lewus.

The story I am about to tell you, surrounding the Kingdom of Tulgey, is one that will send shivers down your spin. The story begins with a Dryad by the name of Ailleacht. She is said to be the most beautiful being in all the world; that even the very gods who gazed down upon the world were envious of the beauty she possessed.

One day, the King, riding in his carriage protected by his military of King’s Guards, rode through the Tulgey Forest and Ailleacht saw the human king and took a liking to him. However, the good King was happily married, and despite Ailleacht’s undeniable beauty, the good King kindly declined her offer to visit her home and experience “pleasure greater than any could know.”

Ailleacht was outraged. None had ever turned her down. She could have the love of the gods, if she wanted! So, in her anger, she cursed the Tulgey Forest – and as such, the Tulgey Kingdom which sat deep in the middle of the woods.

She opened a barrier into the darkest corner of the Feywild, and pulled forth the much dreaded Jabberwock! I can see you’ve not heard of what a Jabberwock is! Well, avid listener – allow me to educate you in the darkness of the Jabberwock! A jabberwock is a solitary, volatile hunter that haunts pristine forests and ancient ruins – and in doing so begins to rapidly bring the darkness from which it comes into the woods it haunts! As such, these once lush forests that were well known for their beauty had begun to turn dark and murky. Endless fields of green and roses were now swamp water and fallen tree stumps. Lush green tree tops were now entwined by dying vines. The corruption the jabberwock brought created temporal portals to the feywild that attracted other such creatures… boggles, while cute in their own little way, began to call these woods their home; spreading their oily substance… the wildlife itself began to change… normal rats were changed into brigganocks, altered by the feywild magic seeping into the swampy forest, while the mice were turned into wynlings … bullywugs soon began to populate the swampy area… and they even say a band of gnomes who had been traveling through the woods were corrupted by the dark magic of the feywild that the jabberwock brought with it, changing these once innocent loving gnomes into redcaps, who were now bent on murder…

The beauty of Ailleacht revealed that deep in her soul was a dark beast that reigned…

She watched what was her home for thousands of years, change rapidly before her eyes, and she felt no pity. All she could think of was how this would ruin the King’s lands and destroy and curse his Kingdom.

This eventually drew the attention of a Black Dragon wyrmling, because Black Dragons favored swamps as their home. This young black dragon named Slithy Toves could sense the jabberwock and kept his distance from the foul creature… but Slithy Toves’ presence only helped corrupt the land further… Bandersnatch toads and frogs around the murky waters around the Black Dragon wymling began to change and grow in size, distorted by the darkness… and became banderhobbs…

With so much darkness seeping into the land, and Ailleacht blind to her own fury and pettiness, was soon beginning to change… the once beautiful Dryad was now beginning to represent the very darkness within her … the very darkness she’d brought into the lands… and she was becoming a hag… even her favorite bird, one that resembled an owl – that she said to have always turned to for wisdom, had been changed by the darkness… the Jubjub Bird had become the much dreaded tlacatecolo… a cursed owl like creature of pure darkness… Still this was not enough for Ailleacht to undo the curse… she only became further enraged that her most trusted ally had fallen victim to the curse – all of which, she continued to blame on the human King who had denied her…

I’m sure you’ve heard the saying, Hades Hath No Fury Like A Dryad Scorned? No? Well, that’s how the saying goes…

So why am I telling you this tragic tale of a scorned Dryad?

Because, you, my captivated audience, are about to do something to help break that curse.

No pressure what so ever, of course.

[Tawmis]

https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... count=1051

Name: Oszi Extaminos (I dont know if yuan-ti houses has surnames or just the name of the house) of House Extaminos (Cover name: Belan Pekan, mostly known by this name)
Race: Yuan-ti (Human-like with forked tongue)
Allignment: LE
Background: Witherbloom Student (think more of a Yuan-ti school)
note points:
- Grew up in a temple of House Extaminos in Ankhwood
- Close with brothers
- Got education in the temple (education got cut short because of the attack)
- Our temple got attacked by adventurers
- Got orphaned at 13
- We were unsure where to go, as we were left behind.
- Traveled to Ankahpur, we started doing small time crime stealing. We eventually got really good at it. Found out a cover as a adventuring party was a great idea
- Got offered warlock powers from Queen of Air and Darkness
- Our teenage years were used on helping people as a cover, stealing during the night, killing other adventurers when we get the chance.
- Brother Severes is a mystic and he's the brains of the group, Oszi is not the smartest but very sneaky, Zalvex is the brawn a paladin of vengeance
- Good standing with Shadowthieves guild in Ankahpur
- Traveled by boat to Waterdeep, after a bad interaction with the locals. (This is where the campaign starts)
Class: Archfey Warlock 1
Age: 20
Personality traits:
If family is in trouble, I'm always willing to help
I often get lost in my own thoughts and contemplations, becoming oblivious to my surroundings
Ideals:
Family. Blood runs thicker than water.
Bonds:
My brothers and me have a serious grudge with adventurers and do not hesitate to take an opportunity to kill the competition.
Flaws:
I'm too greedy for my own good. I can't resist taking a risk if there's money involved.

Hello! Evil characters are always a challenge to write without going over the top to show they're evil. A truly well developed evil character grows into who they are and why they are - and hopefully I capture that in the below!
Some fun notes -
* Cathair nan Nathraichean – Means “City of Snakes” in Scottish Gaelic (roughly)
* The name of the Adventurers who attack are based off the old D&D Comic Book Ads (if you are not familiar you can see reference to them on my site: http://neverendingnights.com/archives/4431 and http://neverendingnights.com/archives/4447 ).
* For Zalvex, I wasn’t sure what deity to associate to him, so I just used the generic term of “Serpent God.”
* The wizard from the Shadowthieves named Sathar – the name is based off the “serpent like” enemies in Star Frontiers

Anyway - as always, I'd love to hear feedback in the thread as it helps me (and also keeps the thread bumped and alive for others to see, and hopefully submit their own requests!)
As always, enjoy!
============================


Ankhwood, which long ago had once been a part of the Winterwood, was a region that rarely got any form of visitors. Insects, animals, and plants, all mutated due to the odd pockets of wild magic that ran rampant throughout the woods, turning normal insects into giant sized versions of themselves; or mutating them so they had multiple eyes or heads; even going so far as changing their basic behavior, where a simply fly would suddenly become a mutated, carnivorous beast.

This sat well with the Yaun-Ti of Cathair nan Nathraichean.*

None knew where this wild and dead magic that existed within the veins of the land in Ankhwood – but the Yaun-Ti drew power from it. One such pupil was the young Yaun-Ti, Oszi Extaminos, who enjoyed his time, as an aspiring wizard, studying with House Extaminos. House Extaminos mages were trained to draw their mystical abilities from the balance and opposing energies of life and death – and channel the wild and dead magic that existed in Ankhwood to increase their own magical abilities.

Oszi Extaminos had befriended others, like himself, who were studying the ways of magic; but none were ever as close to him as his two brothers, Severes – who like him, was interested in the arcane, and also perhaps the wisest of the brothers and there was Zalvex, who was more religious and followed the serpent god.

Together, the three brothers were inseparable, and the nativity of youth blinded them to the danger that was coming.

As it would turn out, the Elves had employed a band of adventurers to venture inside of the Ankhwood and recorded, uncover, and potentially destroy anything that could be causing the wild and dead magic that was prominent throughout Ankhwood.

A human ranger, by the name of Roray Gallan had led a group of adventurers, which included: Valerius, a human fighter with a magical sword, Grimslade a human wizard, Indel the Elf who had employed the adventurers, Saren a human cleric, Auric a human fighter, Tierra a human cleric, Khellek a human wizard, and Shadrak a gnome rogue.

It was a large group – and as they stumbled into Cathair nan Nathraichean, they were shocked to see temples and pyramids erected in the midst of these woods, yet magically hidden from any who might gaze from above. Their moment of shock was quickly shoved aside as the Yuan-Ti guards also reacted to the threat of adventurers in their city.

Oszi Extaminos had just stepped out of House Extaminos, when the attack began. Oszi Extaminos stood memorized as these adventurers began cleaving through the guards – most notably the human, who had what appeared to be a magical weapon – specifically made to slain the Yaun-Ti, with the way he was cutting through Oszi Extaminos’ people.

Severes grabbed Oszi’s arm and shouted, “Where is Zalvex?”

Severes shook Oszi violently. “I said where is Zalvex?”

Oszi looked at his brother, as if for the first time, “The temple. The Serpent God temple.”

“Go to the Rotwood and wait for me there,” Severes barked. “I will go find Zalvex.”
Oszi was still in shock – and almost as if his brother had magically commanded him – Oszi ran towards Rotwood – an area of the woods that was changed by the very magic that made Ankhwood unique, and there he hid until what felt like an eternity, he heard something pounding through the brush and water, and Severes and Zalvex arrived – but Zalvex was furious.

“How could you drag me away from the fight?” he snapped at Severes.

“Did you see them?” Severes growled back. “They were well trained.”

“Better to die defending my home than running away,” Zalvex sneered.

“No,” Severes said, quietly. “If we all die, no one will know of the atrocity.”

The three waited for several hours, until the sounds of battle in the distance waned. They had hoped that the Yuan-Ti had prevailed; but the power the mages wielded and the human with the magical weapon, it seemed somehow unlikely.

When they returned to Cathair nan Nathraichean, most of it had been burning. There were a few scant survivors, but among the dead were none of the adventurers. They had somehow completely avoided death, or their companions had dragged their bodies away.

Returning home, they’d found their parents, both slain outside of their home, by the looks of it, defending it. Oszi kneeled down and touched his mother’s hair, “I can’t help but wonder if their final thoughts were wondering if we were alive or dead.”

“They are with the gods now,” Severes replied softly, placing his hand on Oszi’s shoulder.

“Damn the gods,” Zalvex shouted, ripping the Serpent God pendant from his neck. “Damn the Serpent God. Where was he when our people needed him? Why did he let this slaughter happen? How can I faithfully serve some god who would allow such a thing to his people?”

The trio soon found that the few scant survivors, who had returned as they did, only came to bury their dead, gather a few belongings and leave, because the memory of what had happened here had weighed too heavy on their hearts. The trio soon found the same burden hanging over them; their home, which they had been living in for several weeks, now seemed empty and cold without the presence of their parents, who had been buried on the property by their three sons.

“We need to leave,” Oszi finally said one morning. “There are only about ten of us left in Cathair nan Nathraichean. And who is to say more adventurers won’t come back to clean up any survivors who returned.”

“Where would we go?” Severes, who normally had all the answers, asked.

“Ankahpur,” Oszi answered matter-of-factly. “It’s not too far. It’s a large city. We all resemble humans enough that we can pass as such.”

“You want to live among those who killed our kind?” Zalvex asked, pounding his mug on the table.

“Wait,” Severes said. “I think Oszi might be onto something. We could pass as humans. When we get to Ankahpur, we will need to live off the streets and steal… but an idea has just come to me. What if, after we get enough, that we put ourselves up for hire as adventurers.”

“What?” Zalvex looked at his – normally! – wise brother in disbelief. “And become like the murderers? Have both of you lost your mind?”

“No,” Severes said, placing his hands on the table firmly. “As a matter of fact, this may be the first time I’ve ever been so clear thinking since the massacre. Listen, we hire ourselves out as adventurers, so we begin to get familiar with them – and perhaps, in time, even find the ones who did this to Cathair nan Nathraichean. In the meantime, we befriend other adventurers, and arrange accidents for them… adventurers, like the ones who did this. After all, many snakes use some form of camouflage to conceal themselves; let us do the same.”

The trio traveled along the road and quickly gained the sympathy of a traveling family that was headed to Ankahpur. The trio introduced themselves with false names, as Oszi said his name was Belan Pekan. The family asked the trio what had happened and why three young boys would be traveling on the road; they lied and explained that brigands had attacked their wagon and killed their parents. The trio escaped when the brigands had gotten drunk at night, but they were going to be sold to some slavers. The family took the trio in and upon arriving at the gates of Ankahpur claimed that the trio had been cousins of a family, who recently suffered a tragic loss and that they would be on their way to Waterdeep soon to book passage to be reunited with their family.

The trio had been shocked to discover two humans who had such kindness in their hearts; but as soon as they thanked the family and departed once inside Ankahpur, Zalvex snarled, “They would not have been so kind if they knew we were truly Yuan-Ti.” Though he said it aloud, it wasn’t clear if he was telling his brothers or convincing himself.

The trio made a living on the streets by stealing, and killing from time to time; but they tried to keep the killing to a minimum as it drew the attention of the authorities. During one of their attempts at theft, they had unknowingly tried to rob someone of the Shadowthieves guild in Ankahpur who took a great interest in their ruthlessness.

He brought all three down into the sewers where he introduced Oszi to a Lizard-Man named Sathar who, like Oszi was interested in the dark arts and introduced Oszi to the Archfey, the Queen of Air and Darkness, from which Oszi would draw his power from.

During one of their robbery attempts, Oszi became careless with power and drew the attention of the local authorities, just as they killed a man that the Shadowthieves had employeed them to steal. The Shadowthieves, taking care of their own, boarded the trio on a ship to the distant land of Waterdeep, where they could begin their lives anew, away from the law in Ankahpur.

[Tawmis]

https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... count=1057

Name: Zalvex Extaminos
Race: Yuan-ti
Alignment: LE
Background: Knight of Solamnia (Just Yuan-ti)
note points:
- Brother to Oszi the sneaky. Severes is a mystic (The brains of the Group) and Zalvex is the brawn of the group as a paladin of vengeance.
- Grew up in a temple of House Extaminos in Ankhwood
- Close with his brothers
- Got his Knighthood in the temple (Knighthood got cut short because of the attack)
- Our temple got attacked by adventurers
- Protective of his brothers.
- Traveled to Ankahpur, where we started doing small time crimes such as stealing. Found out a cover as a adventuring party was a great idea
- Originally wanted to be a paladin with pure intentions, but his motivation was changed after the attack from the adventures, as their deity had forsaken him and family.
- Fueled only by the burning desire of Vengeance. Believing only in his own powers.
- Our teenage years were used on helping people as a cover, stealing during the night, killing other adventurers when we get the chance.
- Good standing with Shadowthieves guild in Ankahpur
- Short Tempered.(I like the idea of Zalvex getting pissed in the sound of Whistling, likely because the adventures that raided the temple used whistling in some way.)
- Traveled by boat to Waterdeep, after a bad interaction with the locals. (This is where the campaign starts)
Class: Paladin Vengeance 1
Age: 21
Personality traits:
My Family is my rock. My Sanctuary. I keep them safe so they keep me sane. They are my Purpose.
Ideals:
Vengeful.
(Twisted view regarding justice and equality.) We may both own the same amount of stuff, but I had a bad day, so I am excused for stealing yours. The world owes me this.
Bonds:
My brothers and I have a serious grudge with adventurers. We do not hesitate to enforce vengeance on others if they stand in our way.
Flaws:
I’m too reckless, and often pick a bad but easy path forward, which often ends up getting us into trouble. I believe in no deity. No superior. Without my brothers I feel lonely

Ankhwood, which long ago had once been a part of the Winterwood, was a region that rarely got any form of visitors. Insects, animals, and plants, all mutated due to the odd pockets of wild magic that ran rampant throughout the woods, turning normal insects into giant sized versions of themselves; or mutating them so they had multiple eyes or heads; even going so far as changing their basic behavior, where a simply fly would suddenly become a mutated, carnivorous beast.

This sat well with the Yaun-Ti of Cathair nan Nathraichean.*

None knew where this wild and dead magic that existed within the veins of the land in Ankhwood – but the Yaun-Ti drew power from it. Zalvex Extaminos was a Paladin, faithful to the Serpent God, Nathair. The Yaun-Ti who were faithful to Nathair believed that the Serpent God has wrapped itself around the world, and during an astounding battle against Torm, god of courage and self-sacrifice – Nathair, in a defying moment, shed his protective scales to fall upon the world; and those scales rose up as Yaun-Ti. In their teachings, it is taught that Nathair had bitten Torm and injected him with lethal venom, and that Torm was forced to retreat, saved only by Sune, the goddess of love and beauty.

Zalvex Extaminos was one of Nathair’s most faithful – his chest piece was adorned with the large fangs, dripping with venom, which symbolized Nathair’s moment of victory against Torm. Though Zalvex was devote to Nathair – there was two others closer to him than anyone else – and that was his brothers, Severes, the mystic; and his other brother, Oszi, also interested in the arcane ways and understanding the unique magical energies that surrounded their forest home.

Together, the three brothers were inseparable, and the nativity of youth blinded them to the danger that was coming.

As it would turn out, the Elves had employed a band of adventurers to venture inside of the Ankhwood and recorded, uncover, and potentially destroy anything that could be causing the wild and dead magic that was prominent throughout Ankhwood.

A human ranger, by the name of Roray Gallan had led a group of adventurers, which included: Valerius, a human fighter with a magical sword, Grimslade a human wizard, Indel the Elf who had employed the adventurers, Saren a human cleric, Auric a human fighter, Tierra a human cleric, Khellek a human wizard, and Shadrak a gnome rogue.

It was a large group – and as they stumbled into Cathair nan Nathraichean, they were shocked to see temples and pyramids erected in the midst of these woods, yet magically hidden from any who might gaze from above. Their moment of shock was quickly shoved aside as the Yuan-Ti guards also reacted to the threat of adventurers in their city.

Zalvex Extaminos had been at the temple of the Serpent God, just as he was every morning, hearing the sermons of how the Serpent God would awaken when enough faithful looked to him; and he would crush the world, slaying all of his enemies, and his children would ascend and once again, rejoin Nathair and become the celestial scales of the serpent’s body.

Due to the chanting, he’d not heard the screams and commotion happening outside.

It wasn’t until his brother, Severes kicked down the temple door – an atrocity he would had never done if it had not been an emergency. “Zalvex!” Severes called out. “The Elves… they’ve banded with the humans and they’re attacking.”

Zalvex drew his blade, “Then we must slay them!”

Severes grabbed Zalvex by the arm. “No. No, we run.”

“Run?” Zalvex spat. “And leave the city defenseless?”

“Zalvex,” Severes said more grimly. “You don’t understand. This was a coordinated attack. So many are already dead. We will be lucky if we escape with our lives. I’ve already told Oszi to meet us at Rotwood.”

As the brothers fled, the screams of the dying behind them faded from their ears; but never their memories. Finally reaching Rotwood, Severes was thankful that Oszi had made it as well.

“How could you drag me away from the fight?” he snapped at Severes.

“Did you see them?” Severes growled back. “They were well trained.”

“Better to die defending my home than running away,” Zalvex sneered.

“No,” Severes said, quietly. “If we all die, no one will know of the atrocity.”

The three waited for several hours, until the sounds of battle in the distance waned. They had hoped that the Yuan-Ti had prevailed; but the power the mages wielded and the human with the magical weapon, it seemed somehow unlikely.

When they returned to Cathair nan Nathraichean, most of it had been burning. There were a few scant survivors, but among the dead were none of the adventurers. They had somehow completely avoided death, or their companions had dragged their bodies away.

Returning home, they’d found their parents, both slain outside of their home, by the looks of it, defending it. Oszi kneeled down and touched his mother’s hair, “I can’t help but wonder if their final thoughts were wondering if we were alive or dead.”

“They are with the gods now,” Severes replied softly, placing his hand on Oszi’s shoulder.

“Damn the gods,” Zalvex shouted, ripping the Serpent God pendant from his neck and tore off his breastplate that had Nathair’s symbol on it. “Damn the Serpent God. Where was he when our people needed him? Why did he let this slaughter happen? How can I faithfully serve some god who would allow such a thing to his people?”

The trio soon found that the few scant survivors, who had returned as they did, only came to bury their dead, gather a few belongings and leave, because the memory of what had happened here had weighed too heavy on their hearts. The trio soon found the same burden hanging over them; their home, which they had been living in for several weeks, now seemed empty and cold without the presence of their parents, who had been buried on the property by their three sons.

“We need to leave,” Oszi finally said one morning. “There are only about ten of us left in Cathair nan Nathraichean. And who is to say more adventurers won’t come back to clean up any survivors who returned.”

“Where would we go?” Severes, who normally had all the answers, asked.

“Ankahpur,” Oszi answered matter-of-factly. “It’s not too far. It’s a large city. We all resemble humans enough that we can pass as such.”

“You want to live among those who killed our kind?” Zalvex asked, pounding his mug on the table.

“Wait,” Severes said. “I think Oszi might be onto something. We could pass as humans. When we get to Ankahpur, we will need to live off the streets and steal… but an idea has just come to me. What if, after we get enough, that we put ourselves up for hire as adventurers.”

“What?” Zalvex looked at his – normally! – wise brother in disbelief. “And become like the murderers? Have both of you lost your mind?”

“No,” Severes said, placing his hands on the table firmly. “As a matter of fact, this may be the first time I’ve ever been so clear thinking since the massacre. Listen, we hire ourselves out as adventurers, so we begin to get familiar with them – and perhaps, in time, even find the ones who did this to Cathair nan Nathraichean. In the meantime, we befriend other adventurers, and arrange accidents for them… adventurers, like the ones who did this. After all, many snakes use some form of camouflage to conceal themselves; let us do the same.”

The trio traveled along the road and quickly gained the sympathy of a traveling family that was headed to Ankahpur. The trio introduced themselves with false names, as Oszi said his name was Belan Pekan. The family asked the trio what had happened and why three young boys would be traveling on the road; they lied and explained that brigands had attacked their wagon and killed their parents. The trio escaped when the brigands had gotten drunk at night, but they were going to be sold to some slavers. The family took the trio in and upon arriving at the gates of Ankahpur claimed that the trio had been cousins of a family, who recently suffered a tragic loss and that they would be on their way to Waterdeep soon to book passage to be reunited with their family.

The trio had been shocked to discover two humans who had such kindness in their hearts; but as soon as they thanked the family and departed once inside Ankahpur, Zalvex snarled, “They would not have been so kind if they knew we were truly Yuan-Ti.” Though he said it aloud, it wasn’t clear if he was telling his brothers or convincing himself.

The trio made a living on the streets by stealing, and killing from time to time; but they tried to keep the killing to a minimum as it drew the attention of the authorities. During one of their attempts at theft, they had unknowingly tried to rob someone of the Shadowthieves guild in Ankahpur who took a great interest in their ruthlessness.

He brought all three down into the sewers where he introduced Oszi to a Lizard-Man named Sathar who, like Oszi was interested in the dark arts and introduced Oszi to the Archfey, the Queen of Air and Darkness, from which Oszi would draw his power from.

During one of their robbery attempts, Oszi became careless with power and drew the attention of the local authorities, just as they killed a man that the Shadowthieves had employeed them to steal. The Shadowthieves, taking care of their own, boarded the trio on a ship to the distant land of Waterdeep, where they could begin their lives anew, away from the law in Ankahpur.


https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... count=1059

Hi Tawmis,
You did a great job the first time you wrote up a warlock PC for me. Here is my new warlock with a different patron and pact boon.
Name: Gristle Grandeur
Setting: Homebrew
Class: Warlock 4 (Genie, Pact of the Tome)
Race: Mountain Dwarf
Gender: Male
Background: Miner (custom)
Alignment: Neutral
Eldritch Invocations: Agonizing Blast, Repelling Blast.
Feat: Fey Touched
Str 11, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 13, Wis 13, Cha 20.
Spells
Cantrips: eldritch blast, toll the dead, mold earth, prestidigitation, mage hand, minor illusion.
1st level: hex, armor of agathys.
2nd level: spike growth, invisibility, suggestion.
Fey touched spells: misty step, gift of alacrity.
My patron's name is Yazida The Wealthy. She is a noble dao from the Great Dismal Delve on the Elemental Plane of Earth.
My genie's vessel is a ring with a compartment.

I was feeling silly when I wrote this - so if this doesn't work (and that's OK if you tell me it doesn't!) - I will write another one.
Was just feeling goofy and this was an easy one to write like that.
But I can definitely write a more traditional serious one!
Let me know!
And the Fey Touch is explained as "absorbing the essence" from the ring, if that's not clear when you get there.
As always, let me know!
==========================================

Never let it be said that a little hard work doesn’t pay off, me grandfather used to say.

And boy, was he right.

My name is Gristle Grandeur and I hail from the Silverstone Mountains. I used to be a miner there; like all the other of me kin. Until something extraordinary happened.

This is me origin story, I like to call it. So sit down and listen, if ye have the time.

Like I said, me name is Gristle Grandeur and I used to be a miner at Silverstone Mountains. Day in an’ day out, I’d wake up; get me pick and chop away at the stone, diggin’ deeper and deeper into Silverstone Mountain.

On this fateful night, I was alone in Tunnel 210. The others had gone to their lunch but I still had some energy in this young bones of mine, ye see. I often worked a little harder than the others, but I didn’t mind that any.

I’d been hacking away at the stone, appreciating her endurance and strength to resist me; that meant she was good dwarven stone. Ye don’t want it to be easy, you see. My grandfather used to say if it was easy, it wasn’t worth it. My grandfather said a lot of things, if ye have not figured that out.

Anyway, where was I?

Ah, yes. I was carving away in Tunnel 210 alone, me muscles straining against the mountain’s resistance. That’s when I finally hit – and me pick went in much deeper than I would have expected. I kept picking away at it – and it turned out to be a small cavern. Almost human size. As I crawled into it; I discovered, it was – from what I could tell, some kind of tome. There were human remains, perfectly preserved, because it’d been airtight – by the looks of it, whoever it was was a wizard of some kind. He (or she, could not tell by this point, you see) – had fancy clothing on. What immediately caught my eye was a golden ring they wore with a large lodestone on it. I asked the corpse for forgiveness and removed the ring and slid it onto me own finger – and was surprised to see it had automatically adjusted to fit me finger.

More startlin’ than that was, I heard a voice.

Not any of me fellow workers. No. Nothing like that.

This voice… it was inside me head. You know how sometimes, ye have internal thoughts and ye hear your own voice in yer head? It was a wee bit like that. Except.

It wasn’t my voice I was hearing.

It was someone who identified themselves as “Yazida The Wealthy.”

Yazida The Wealthy explained that their previous “servant” (who I assume was the corpse from whom I had just taken the ring from) was a Eladrin (those are those funny Elves from the Fairy Dimension place that change based on the seasons! As if Elves were not weird enough, I say!) Well as it turns out, this Eladrin was seeking something out – when they’d been attacked and miscalculated their teleportation spell – they managed to get up a barrier spell to prevent from being crushed by stone – but they eventually suffocated unable to cast another spell that would allow them to escape without releasing the barrier spell that would crush them.

Yazida The Wealthy went on to explain that she was a noble dao from the Great Dismal Delve on the Elemental Plane of Earth and she had a mission for me, if I accepted. Well, I was curious – and truth be told, more than tired of just being a miner. When I accepted, she released some of the Eladrin’s life essence which had been absorbed into the ring – directly into me. I felt it inside of me… like some kind of parasite that clung to my very soul.

I asked Yazida The Wealthy what she needed of me; but she explained it would be dangerous – and first I was to find others, travel with them see if they could be trusted – then she would explain what was needed of me.

[Tawmis]

https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... count=1061

so my last character is staying in his home town to rule over the nation which he was rightful king of after his father’s death and need a new backstory for my new character Amihi, Hexblade(3) Paladin(2). Was kind of thinking of a spawn type background where he is killed sent to hell and is now a soldier for hell but still tries to use his powers for "good"

This was fun to write. I was listening to THE CROW musical score to write this to really get into that "dead and back" again - just made it be Hell, to give you the Spawn feel you wanted.
Where the voice talks about "darkness as a part of your soul" was my way of explaining the Hexblade portion - and the Paladin, I explain how you were a child of the light.
I went old school and brought back a demon I'd created - who appeared in several of these stories I'd written - but not used him recently - but Bar'garius makes an appearance.
If you're not familiar with Bar'garius from my other stories, it's no big deal. He can be any kind of demon that fits the story for you and your DM.
Was just fun to revisit the old character I'd used previously in other stories!
As always, would love to hear feedback - as it's good for me, but also keeps this thread bumped and alive for others to see!
Enjoy!
=============================================


My father, Asmin Arith the III was a generous man; a kind soul. But he was foolish.

He believed that if he loved his people deeply and showed it, showered them with gifts and coin, that they would love him in return and he would never need fear his people for whom he so kindly ruled over. My father failed to realize that the gold that he showered those people with also showed the less savory people whom my father ruled over that there was more gold where that came from somewhere in the Kingdom.

My father was murdered in the middle of the night, as was my father. I was the sole heir my father had, and only a teenager at the time. Because of my youth, I tried to fight back – they’d managed to sneak up and kill my father and mother in their sleep – but I’d been awake when they came into my room and I would not go down without a fight.

I’d been raised to respect the gods; to worship them and call on them in need; and they too, would return the favor – grant me blessings and powers bestowed to me by my faithfulness to the gods. Tonight, however, far darker forces were at play. Despite my best efforts, it was not physical strength that could save me, for these assassins used dark, arcane magic.

To complete the murder, they had promised a demon named Bar'garius a young soul – and I was that soul. Not only was tonight about murdering my parents for their riches, but payment to a demon that granted them the dark ability to sneak into the keep without being noticed – walking through shadows as if they were gateways. They suspended me in the air with their dark magic as I called to my gods to aid me. My cries fell on deaf ears; or if they heard, they did nothing or could not do anything.

A gateway to the very depths of Hell opened in the center of the floor, the very edge of the gateway using the blood of my father and mother to complete the ritual. I stared into the Abyss and heard the howl of demons – and just as I was cast into the depths of Hades and saw Bar'garius on his throne, I felt an odd tug around my waist and saw what appeared to be a harness made of radiant energy.

Then blackness.

Sixteen years later, I found myself climbing out of that hole in Hades, and reappearing in the castle that had been my mother and father’s. It was in ruin and covered in webbing everywhere. No one lived here anymore. As I made my way through the keep, I could see everything had been taken by looters – everything but a mirror.

A mirror that showed me my true face; burned beyond recognition. I screamed at the sight of my own visage, unable to comprehend how I had even returned here. My time spent in Hades was a repeat of eternal torment – my soul torn apart, then drawn back together, just to be torn apart again. The whole time, there was a radiant rope around my waist – and Bar'garius had taken notice to it as well, as he demanded to know what it was – as he could not seem to destroy it.

The mirror shimmered and the visage of my face changed. It was my old face. The lips of my old face moved in the reflection, but it was not my voice that spoke. A soft, soothing voice said, “I tried to save you, Amihi – but I could not, and I am sorry. Bar'garius’ minions had used dark magic to cast a shield over the keep – but just as they cast you into Hades, all their power had gone into doing so – and in that moment, I was able to cast a radiant rope to you so that you might one day find your way back to the Light.”

“Your soul,” the soothing voice said, “has been torn asunder a thousand times, and building back together. In doing so, Bar'garius has latched darkness and shadow into your very being. But you are still a child of the Light. Allow me to show you those who are responsible. All sixteen men of the cult of Bar'garius still live. Most in wealthy locations, hidden safely by the money stolen from your family. Seeking revenge will be difficult. Find others who might aid you in your quest.”

The mirror shimmered again, and I saw myself… staring at what I’d become.

A child of Light and Darkness, of Heaven and Hell.

And I will have my Revenge.

Hey Tawmis,
I'm having trouble fleshing out my new character I'll be playing in an upcoming Dragonlance campaign. I thought maybe you could help me out?
His name is Lucian Stargaze

CHARACTERISTICS
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Class: Enchantment Wizard
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Faith: Nuitari
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 170lb.
Eyes: Albino
Hair: White
Skin: Pale
Personality Traits
- I am always calm, no matter what the situation. I never raise my voice or let my emotions control me.
-I put no trust in divine beings.

Ideals
- Knowledge. The path to power and self-improvement is through knowledge. (Neutral)

Bonds
- I have a forbidden text which holds powerful knowledge that I must keep secret.

Flaws
- I’d risk too much to uncover a lost bit of knowledge.
- I judge others harshly, and myself even more severely.

ORGANIZATIONS
- Mages of High Sorcery (Order of the Black Robes)

I have a vague idea that perhaps he grew up in an all boys academy which the mages of high sorcery would then recruit those which showed potential. I'll be starting the campaign as an initiate to the order of the black robes.
One of the trinkets I've got from my background is a forbidden scroll with an indecipherable text. I've worked with the DM, and I think it will eventually be discovered to be a scroll of summon greater demon. My character somehow was able to steal our copy this scroll and must keep it hidden.
He also will begin his adventures with a guard dog. These dogs are bred by the mages to act as guardians / companions to the mages when they are out adventuring or on official guild business.

Being a lawful evil character, I'm trying to avoid the one dimensional power hungry wizard (although that can and likely is a part of his personality), and give him a little more depth. Neutral alignment could also work. This is all the info I can think of. I hope this is enough to work with! You're doing some awesome stuff here!

I could have easily kept writing this - because of how much I love Dragonlance.
So I assume you're going to be playing the Official 5e Dragonlance, so I located your character in Kalaman where a lot of it takes place.
The teacher among the students is actually the name of my character I am playing in the Dragonlance campaign myself! So it was fun to shove his name in here.
I left the thing with the parchment and such out - because in the adventure, Mages will take the Test. And I assume during that time it could have been taken.
I kept the character with the Evil "themed" alignment - but left it very open. Left it based on ... Well, you will see.
Included the dog at the very end.
The "type" of dog - Vesterian - is completely made up. Just sounded like a cool name.
Would love to hear your thoughts on what I've done.
It helps me - also keeps this thread bumped and alive.
As always - enjoy!
===============================

My name is Lucian Stargaze and when I was young, I displayed an interest in magic. I’d watched others perform magic – whether it was to defend our home from goblins, or sometimes, the Mages would do a display of power during a celebration. The idea of wielding such power simply by speaking some foreign words and gesturing with your hands or staff was appealing.

As such, my mother was eager to thrust me into the Kalaman School of the Arcane. Truth be told, from what I’d heard – most of Kalaman were people of the Solamnic humans, who to this day, had not trusted magic much – and had erected the school to keep an eye on those who aspired to yield magic. We had studied hard at this school that was constantly patrolled by Solamnic Knights who did little to hide their mistrust of the young students.

Talis Silverrose, a high ranking White Robed wizard, walked around the students and smiled. “Do not worry about the Knights. You are here to learn magic.” But, it was clear to see Talis wore a Solamnic sword on his hilt, even as he walked with staff in hand. He glanced down at the sword, “This?” he said, looking directly at me, as if having read my thoughts. “It’s true. I am also Solamnic. Born and bred. But like you, my interest was in magic not the blade. But I honor my family by carrying it with me. And when I took my Test, as you all will, I had to make a choice between family and magic.”

“Which did you choose?” I had asked curious.

Talis smiled, as if recalling that day. His brown human hair had streaks of grey, as it was long and pulled into a traditional knot-like pony tail. “I can’t speak of it,” he finally said. “We are not here to discuss my Test. We are here to discuss your future.”

Talis paced around the students. “Each of us will have to make a decision when we take the Test. That decision will shape your life forever, going forward.” He paused. “Should you survive.” He looked and saw several of the students shuffle uncomfortably. “Yes,” he said answering the unspoken question. “The Test can be lethal. It has been. Some have perished during the Test. Some, forever changed. But before you take that Test – tonight marks a special night.”

Talis cast his eyes skyward. The Constellations had always been a symbol of the very gods of Kyrnn being represented – but the stars were all there.

Talis pointed, “Look there,” he said with awe in his voice, though he’d seen this event already twice before in his life.

All three Moons – Solinari, Lunitari and Nuitari appeared to be headed for a collision course in the heavens. The students gasped, fearing the worse – however, the three moons did not collide – they aligned perfectly, one behind the other, in the very rare event of Magical Lunar Eclipse.

Talis walked up to a human female, “When you gaze at the moons, what do you see, Elleesia?”

The young, red head looked up, “I see Solinari, shining brighter than the sun.” Several of the students looked puzzled by Elleesia’s response. Talis walked up to one of those students, a male elf with blue eyes.

“What is it you see, Korhen of the Qualinesti?” Talis looked between the young elf and the moons above.

“I see Lunitari shines red, the skies, the clouds, the ground,” Korhen held out his hands. “Everything looks red.”

Talis made his way to me. “And you, named after the art of stargazing – what do you see Lucian Stargaze?”

“I see only darkness,” I replied. “I see the shadows of darkness cast by Nuitari – it has devoured all of the light. I can scarcely see you at all, Master Talis.”

As Talis moved between the students – some saw the light of Solinari, others saw the red of Lunitari, while others saw the darkness of Nuitari. Within thirty minutes, the rare Magical Lunar Eclipse was over and the students were left looking at one another.

By the time the Eclipse had ended; each of them understood what their answer had meant. What they saw had been the path they would take. And now they were seeing some friends, even family – brothers and sisters who were here – saw the moons differently – and would be standing, potentially on opposing sides.

Talis took a deep breath. “Now you see. This is only the beginning.” He stared at the moons a moment longer before turning his attention back towards the students. “Because being a Mage can be dangerous; the school has taken to training Vesterian canines. One will be assigned to you to go with you after the test. They will be your closest friend and your protector. They will die for you,” Talis explained as he looked over his shoulder. “And when they do, they will leave a scar that will never heal.”

As Talis walked off, everyone took notice, he’d not had a Vesterian dog with him since he’d been teaching…

[Tawmis]

https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... count=1064

I could use some help with a character.
Campaign takes place in Waterdeep.
Character is a half-orc monk, but the monk part is basically being a street tough, as opposed to a monastic monk.
Stats are Str 17, Dex 17, Con 16, Int 8, Wis 16, Cha 10. Character name is Dorn.
Dorn is level 1. He finds work as a dock worker and a bouncer in the Dock Ward. When he's able to find it, he also takes thieving work and work as an enforcer. He has prof in Thieves Tools and Jewelers Tools.
I'm having trouble with his criminal contact, who I am imagining and someone that is semi-retired and wants Dorn to stay away from crime, but still is partly in that world so serves as a contact.
I'm also thinking Dorn tried for the City Watch once, but washed out. Not sure if because his attitude (he's a gruff straight forward kind of person) or if for some other reason. But I like that to foreshadow that maybe he can be something more than a tough thug on the streets, but he wasn't ready to be just yet. Let me know if any more information would help. I'm not familiar with the various criminal organizations in Waterdeep, but this adventure (Dragon Heist) is so far featuring the Zhentarim and the Xanathar's Guild, so I don't think he'd belong to either of those.

* Fun notes – the Half Elf mentioned “Cuidhtich” roughly translates to “Quit” in Gaelic since you mentioned you wanted someone who was a contact but wanted you to stay away from crime who was semi-retired. So I translated “quit” and that’s the name it gave me.
* The character Shizukana is Japanese for quiet (which is Zen to me anyway)
* Since you’re not the standard Monk, how I explain you get it is mentioned – and rather than “Ki” which is traditional Monk, I flavored it as “Zenergy” (Zen + Energy)

Anyway! Hope you enjoy! The things you needed flowed into one another easily as I wrote this!
As always, would love ANY feedback you have!
Whether you HATED it, LOVED it, what you liked or didn't like.
It helps keep the thread alive and floating!
And it also helps me tremendously making sure I meet the mark of what's being asked of me.
And helps me improve or gain confidence in my writing!
As always, enjoy!
========================


It’s true what they say.

You never get a second chance to make a first impression.

And despite the diversity that populates the metropolis known as Waterdeep – when anyone sees a half-orc, what they really see is just the orc side. They see the side that has been historically violent and deemed “evil” by many. They don’t see anything beyond that. Might as well be a full blooded orc, wearing sigils bearing the symbol of Gruumsh One-Eye and proclaiming my desire to see this city collapse and bend the knee to me.

So why stay?

Truth of the matter, I can use that “stereotypical” view people have of me (and other half-orcs) to my advantage. When I was still fairly young (and perhaps a little too naïve to see how the world truly works), I thought I could turn my aggression and reputation for starting and ending any fight I got into, by applying to the City Watch.

They were reluctant – not because I was a half-orc (or, so they said to my face), but mostly my age. I was barely seventeen seasons old when I applied and most of the City Watch were twenty five or (much) older. It didn’t take long before I had tried to stop a thief from robbing some woman – and the thief refused to calm down – so I beat him into a pulp and took what he had for myself. I got reported by the thief for the abuse and was promptly removed from the City Watch. A whole three weeks I lasted; but that put coin in my pocket and food in my stomach.

I took an interest in some of the equipment I’d taken from that thief – and began to learn how to use these thieves tools. I wasn’t great – but I wasn’t bad either. From time to time, if my luck was low and I hadn’t picked up any “body guard” or “escorting people safely somewhere” kinds of jobs – I’d use these tools and break into the less rich folks and steal from them. They didn’t have a lot, sure – but they were also less likely to have guards or magic protecting what little they had – and really, all I needed was enough to put food and drink into my stomach to make it one more day on the streets of Waterdeep.

One such person I would end up attempting to steal from would be a half-elf named Cuidhtich. Those damn elf ears had heard me sliding into his house – and he managed to beat me barely breaking a sweat. It’s funny – I curse his elf ears – but when he asked me what I was doing and I explained my situation – he said how it was ironic, that among the Elves, all they ever saw was his human side, and looked down at him for his impure blood, as they called it. Cuidhtich explained, that like me, he couldn’t seem to fit in either world – though, he admitted, that in Waterdeep, my appearance probably made things more difficult than Cuidhtich’s own life here. But Cuidhtich came here because he could no longer live among his people, the Elves, who had raised him for so many years, because of how they’d looked down at him.

Cuidhtich said he came to Waterdeep very angry at the world – something I completely understood. But that’s when he told me about meditating – and how he’d learned from a human monk named Shizukana, whom he’d tried to rob on the street – and took him in and taught him how to find his inner peace and learned to channel what Shizukana called “Zenergy.” It seemed like rubbish when Cuidhtich spoke of being able to channel energy – similar to mages channeling magic – all around us and focusing it into positive energy – but since Cuidhtich wasn’t going to call the City Watch on me, for my attempt at robbery, and grant me the same opportunity he’d been given by Shizukana.

So days turned into weeks and weeks into months, where I would spend time with Cuidhtich and we would meditate and later, walk around Waterdeep together. He encouraged me to try and stay away from a life of crime, because that would taint the zenergy around me and turn it grey, rather than the purity of white light.

Seemed like nonsense, but I am not afraid to admit – just like when you drink a little too much and had fun at the time, but regret it the following morning – the few times I had to resort to stealing something, the energy around me did feel different.

Cuidhtich told me he had some travel plans; and I offered to go with him, but he said he’d be back in a few days.

In the meantime, I figured I’d look for a job of some kind…

[Tawmis]

https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... count=1068

Hello, I stumbled upon this via a post on a different website and I was wondering if you could help me with the backstory for a character I made, They're a male fire genasi genie warlock named Hiturim (their father is their patron), noble background, generic stuck up noble personality, reason that they're adventuring is because he was kinda kicked out of their dads house for conflicting views (efreeti bad he want to be good) but he got cool warlock powers, I've tried being creative but I just couldn't piece together some stuff on it

The Plane of Fire. They say that it is a plane continually ablaze and that it smells of burning flesh and ashen dreams – the land of flame incarnate. Words that have clearly been spoken by someone who has come to the unforgiving Plane of Fire, the place I call home.

My name is Hiturim and I am a Fire Genasi who has lived under the thumb of my father. My father, Esgarian is a Baron of this region of the Plane of Fire, with hundreds of servants indentured to him to serve his every whim. When I was born, I was a part of a dark ritual that bound my soul to my father’s, as my father had done before him, and his father before him, for countless generations. Somewhere far up the bloodline, someone on my father’s side had made a deal with an Efreeti Genie for unimaginable power and wealth from an Efreeti that they had rescued; with that power and wealth came the corruption and evil that often shakes the hand of the devil that makes such deals. A part of this ritual was naming the first son – and according to this deal, the first child born is always a son – the son is to be named after the father.

So I see yourself asking, “But wait, if your father’s name is Esgarian and you call yourself Hiturim – that breaks the tradition.”

Tradition or vanity? I believe the idea of maintaining the father’s name is their way of ensuring their name lives on for eternity, even when their body dies.

Regardless, the reason my name is different than my father’s is – that yes, while it’s true, I go my father’s given name Esgarian since birth – when I was younger, I rebelled against my father. I did approve of how he treated his indentured slaves. I did not approve of how he taxed the people who relied so heavily on him to protect them. So I took it upon myself to take on the name of my mother’s father – an insult my father could not bear and so he cast me from the family and struck my name from the family books.

However, because of the ritual he’d performed while I was still an infant – this bound me to my father, and the magic he had been imbued with – it now coursed through me, powered by the Efreeti Genie who had bestowed it to my father’s lineage long, long ago.

I’ve spent the last three weeks scaling Teine Sìorraidh – the Mountain of Eternal Flame. It’s treacherous and difficult – but if I have no family, I have no reason to be here.

No, I am not going to take my life. There are rumors that say that at the top of Teine Sìorraidh, hidden by the flame and ash spewing from the top, is a gateway – a portal to other realms. I aim to see if it’s true and see if I can’t leave the inferno that is my home life and rediscover and reinvent myself elsewhere.

Another six days scaling this cursed Teine Sìorraidh, and I reach the top. Even as a Fire Genasi, the flames spewing forth from Teine Sìorraidh gaping maw are almost unbearable; but I see it immediately. Invisible to the naked eye, but if one watches as the lava and fire spews around – there is a sphere, roughly ten feet around that the flames and lava curve around. I wait for the timing of the rumbling – so that the lava is ebbing away – and quickly sprint – knowing if I am wrong, death is going to come quick when the lava washes over me.

The rumbling begins even as I am sprinting, and everything happens in slow motion – I can see the lava arching over like a tidal wave of red, flaming death – just as I leap into the sphere and it washes around the sphere – I sit inside, protected – amazed, but only for a brief moment – then I am magically jaunted away.

I am not even sure what happened next.

I found myself face down, half my body in the water, my chest and face laying in the sand, awakened by the cool tide that receded from my body. My body screams in pain – not that I am burned – but it aches terribly – every bone, every nerve, every muscle. Still, I force myself up and make my way to what is clearly a bustling city.

A city called Waterdeep.

[Tawmis]

https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... count=1072

First off all the other backstory you wrote were very impressive. I haven't decided his name yet but my character is a half-elf hexblade who will later multiclass into paladin. I have a rough outline of the backstory but I'm struggling with specifics. This is what I have so far. Feel free to change anything. My ancestors for some undecided reason (maybe just chance idk) had an incurable genetic blood disorder. The only way they survived was making a deal with a fey for weapons that absorbed blood of things it killed and purified it and put it into them to replace their bad blood. Anyway there's some awful downside but they had to accept it or die. It’s an exploitive ultimatum. Anyway they lived like that for a long time generation to generation until my mom came along. She married an elf because she thought I might be safe from the disorder if half my blood was the magical elf blood. I wasn’t. Anyway I’m going on a quest to end the curse on myself and avenge all my ancestors who had to live with it. Thanks!

This one literally wrote itself...
Naturally you change the names mentioned (towns, patron, etc) - placing names there helps me when I write it.

Some fun notes -
When I need names I often resort to Scottish Gaelic and drop the fancy symbols they use and combine words... For example, used in this story...
The hamlet's name (rough) is "Light" and "Shadow" combined in Scottish Gaelic.
Father's first name is (roughly) "Lover" in Scottish Gaelic. Thought that was fitting to show the "light."
"Rugadh Dorchadas" is roughly "born of darkness" in Scottish Gaelic.
Cuirm is "ceremony" in Scottish Gaelic while Mairidh is roughly "eternal" or "will last"
Dochas means "hope"
Beathoirt has ties to "life" or "life giver" (roughly)

All of that said - as I mentioned. This story wrote itself based off what you mentioned.
Would work really great for a Curse of Strahd campaign with a name change for the villain... lol
Anyway - would love to hear your thoughts - if you liked it or not - what you liked or didn't like - all of that helps give me feedback and keeps this thread bumped and alive for others to see!
All right, enough - enjoy!
======================


No one remembers the exact story; the tale has changed over the many generations that it has been told and passed down; a warning to the next of the curse that flowed through their veins. The most common elements have remained the same through each telling.

My ancestors had lived a simple life in a small hamlet by the name of Solasgaile. Life consisted of tending to the farms, feeding the livestock, and trading with others who lived in Solasgaile. Money never mattered, because nothing was ever sold – the people of Solasgaile simply traded and bartered their wares in exchange for things they needed.

That had been until he came – a human by the name of Lord Rugadh Dorchadas. He had arrived during the chill of night, the grey fog, seemingly rolling in behind his extravagant carriage, its ivory white colors reflecting the blood moon that followed, like a curious gaze. Lord Rugadh Dorchadas had seemed both displeased by what he saw in the small hamlet; there was no large, luxurious inn for him to take refuge in; however, he did seem to enjoy that Solasgaile was far away from most other cities and towns. He seemed to enjoy the privacy that Solasgaile offered. It is said that when he walked, it was almost as if his feet seemed to glide several centimeters above the ground; barely noticeable except it appeared as he move ever so slightly with the wind, the fog that had followed him, nipping and chasing his heels.

While most in Solasgaile quickly closed their doors and windows, my human ancestors extended their home to him as he explained he was seeking refuge for the night. His name had been Cuirm and his very pregnant wife was named Mairidh. The following morning, Mairidh screamed in horror. Her husband lay on the bed, his face as pale as the snow caps of Everfrost, his body just as cold. As she ran out to get help – she’d swung the door open and discovered the morning light, which she normally loved upon her flesh; had made her sick and weak and she was forced to close the door.

Others had heard the scream and came running; and when they saw her husband, drained of all his blood, they noted how she too had been bit by whatever had bitten her husband. As they looked for Lord Rugadh Dorchadas to see if he’d been afflicted as well, there was no sign of him or his carriage. He had left, sometime before sunrise it would seem. The Vicar was summoned – and upon seeing the body of Cuirm he too paled – and looking at Mairidh’s bite in her neck, proclaimed that she too would die soon – most likely within 3 days. He explained that the animal that had fed on her husband and had bitten her contained a lethal disease that killed those who might survive a chance bite. He prayed for her soul.

But Mairidh would not give up so easily. To the east, in the swamps – she knew of a former Vicar who had ‘lost his faith’ and turned to ‘the darker arts.’ In her desperation and fear, she left in the middle of the night, as the sun from the light still made her ill. The trees in the swamp provided cover for the next two days, as she could feel herself getting weaker and weaker – but before the sun had rose again into the skies that third day, she found the disheveled hut of the former Vicar – a man named Dochas.

The former Vicar took her in and examined her bite and explained that she’d been a victim of a dark force; the very thing Dochas had sworn to fight – and thankfully had been researching how to combat the dark creature she’d encountered. Dochas had made contact with a celestial being named Beathoirt, whose very goal was to smite the very same darkness.

Through a ritual, Dochas was able to bind the spirit of Mairidh to Beathoirt. This saved her from death and destroyed an unnatural hunger for blood that was surging in her. Mairidh was able to have her child, and aside from being able to travel in daylight still, lived a normal life. When her child was sixteen, she saw her child’s face and skin begin to pale, and knew the disease had been passed on. Mairidh, thankfully knew the ritual that would bind her child to Beathoirt, and completed the ritual, explaining to her child of the blood disease in their veins that they’d been cursed with and the importance of watching her children – when they reach maturity to see if the disease lived on.

As such, it did – and generation after generation, the ritual was done – binding each to Beathoirt’s light, and giving the generations of children who followed a somewhat normal life. Over the many generations, the disease showed signs of weakening; as the children, after the ritual was complete, were able to even walk in the day light after the disease had surfaced.

My own mother, a part of this generation, had met an elf by the name of Leannan Oakspring, who was a very attractive man – his chiseled jaw and gleaming blue eyes were striking – daggers, my mother had said, that pierced her heart and made her bleed for him. The two got married, and she’d hoped, as Leannan, well versed in magic, might be able to finally destroy the taint in our bloodline; but when I turned sixteen, a yearning for blood filled my mouth, and my skin grew pale, the light of sun made me ill; until my mother completed the ritual – and then the hunger sedated, and the light of the sun no longer weakened me.

I asked my mother what had happened to me; and she explained the long story of Lord Rugadh Dorchadas.

And there was a rumor, despite hundreds of years having passed, that somehow, and somewhere, Lord Rugadh Dorchadas was still alive…

[Tawmis]

Wrote three for three different people in one sitting...
Despite being very under the weather...

https://forums.giantitp.com/showthread. ... st25761588

I have a character in mind but not sure how to build yet so perhaps some Tawmis inspiration might help. When I say a character in mind I mean I have some inspiration, if you can imagine Christopher Lambert the original highlander meets the A Teams Mad Dock Murdock, meets the equalizer. This is a calculating combatant but off the clock in a bar perhaps he is the guy the sizes up the room and even if the odds aren’t in his favor he will start a fight, just to perhaps FEEL something. This last part is the key because for some reason he doesn’t feel pain. It might be more than that too but certainly that’s key. He is the sort of brawler who doesn’t know when to quit, quite literally because his body doesn’t tell him enough is enough. I have this scene in my head of him watching from a table in a bar as a drink is sent from the bar to a table with a big rough guy at it, and approaches the table "That's my drink". And if it gets drunk before he can TAKE it, or if the patron offers to buy him one even, it doesn’t matter, "that was my drink so I guess I will just have to take it out of ya".
I said earlier he is a calculating combatant, but he isn’t trying to avoid getting hit (he welcomes that) but to ensure he hits. My mind’s eye of that is kind of like the scenes in the equalizer where the camera moves between the components of what he is going to do. I'm not settled on a race but there is coldness in his demeanor that makes me think lizardfolk, yuan ti, vedalken, or gith. Love to hear what springs into your imaginative mind.

So I ended up going with Lizard Folk, of the ones you mentioned. Was the easiest one I could visually see fitting (Yuan-Ti I also just wrote two or three of them, so I could use something different; and I am not familiar with the Vedalken, and Gith always seem out of place in a normal, non Spelljammer setting to me). And needing a name, because I love naming character – I called him Krisdok – which is a combo of “CHRIStopher Lambert and Mad Dock MurDOCK” – the two references you mentioned.
When I talk about the eye – I used this as a reference: https://cdn.baptistmessenger.com/2015/0 ... Dragon.jpg
Anyway, I hope you enjoy – as always, I love feedback, good or bad, because it helps me (it also lets me know if you liked it) and it also keeps the thread bumped and alive (for others to potentially see it and request something from me!)
Anyway – Enjoy!
=============================================


The Last Knight.

It’s a bar in the less than respectable part of Terraford. If I am to be honest, I am not sure if there’s any ‘respectable’ parts in Terraford. The city sits right against the Daramere Swamps, which is home to plenty of trolls and lizardfolk. However, Terraford is the first city after a treacherous descending path from the Icewall Mountains, making it a favorable place to rest, restock and allow the steeds and livestock to rest after the dangerous icy path of the mountain.

Many of the people in Terraford are either escorts through Icewall or escorts through the Daramere Swamp, which is short cut – because going around the massive swamp will add ten days of travel if you stay on the path. My name is Krisdok, and I am one of those lizard people that many fear from the swamp. My people have become accepted in some of the lesser ‘civilized’ towns as being ‘acceptable’ – and like I said, Terraford barely classifies as ‘civilized’ even in its best parts.

I used to be a guide for the travelers who’d come down the Icewall Mountains, looking to make quick of their travel because of the time and caution it takes to get through the Icewall Mountains, however, that got boring quick and I was looking for a challenge.

Still not sure what that challenge is; but from time to time, The Last Knight provides me with something to occupy my time. Like I said, for the ‘most part’ people have accepted my kind – the Lizard People – in their less than civilized towns. ‘For the most part’ doesn’t mean everybody.

The iris of my eyes are a swirling fire of colors, while my pupils are black holes, devoid of light, color and emotion. There’s a large human – drink in hand, grey beard – he seems to slow down as I come in. Another, thin, younger, looks like he’s training to be a fighter, but has a long way to go. Two others, leaning against the wall, talking – both pause as I come in.

The problem with a lot of people, especially here in Terraford – they’re under the belief that Lizard People like me who come into Terraford are doing so to rub it in their face – or that we’re spies seeing how many might be traveling through the swamp to set up ambushes.

I am not saying they’re wrong. I know at least several members of my lounge do exactly that. Sure, I could point it out to the people of Terraford, but they’d just think it’s all a trick. As I slide and sit at the bar and order a drink, the Halfling behind the counter gets me a drink. Even as he slides it across the bar, his eyes betray him – I see his eyes dart to the right.

My fiery pupils light up just as a chair comes crashing down on my head and appropriately shatters into pieces. A normal person that might knock out; instead, I pull out several splinters from my drink and down it and look at the grey bearded man I saw when I came in. What he – and the others don’t know is I simply don’t feel pain.

It’s not that ‘it doesn’t hurt’ – like he barely hit me. No, I mean I literally can not feel pain. I was stabbed through the chest – and the only thing I felt was the blade tapping my ribcage. I could not feel the puncture wound. I couldn’t feel the blood pouring out. I still have a scar to prove it. Now for the bearded man – my hand clasps over his face as I slam it into my empty glass. In the bar’s mirror in front of me, I see the other one – the young, stupid, foolish kid who wants to show he’s got what it takes. I yank the bearded man off my glass and grab the bloody thing and throw it with a quick spin – hitting the youngling directly in the throat with enough force to have him buckle forward, clasping his throat, trying to breathe. The other two I saw come charging at me, from either side – one impales me with a small dagger the other tries to hold me. I don’t feel the dagger, but I see the bloody thing in his hands. I crack my head backwards and feel the nose and jaw of the one holding me from the back crack and I hear him crumble to the floor.

That just leaves the idiot with the dagger. He takes another lunge, stabs me again, this time across the arm; still don’t feel it. I grab him by the throat and head butt him on his nose about six times; probably four times too many, before releasing him and he crumbles to the ground, unconscious.

I smile, “Perfect.” I pay for my drink and slide some coins over for the damage. “I’ll be back next week,” I warn and the Halfling sighs. It’s been a routine of mine for the last twenty three weeks, much to the Halfling’s dismay.

Thank you for creating such a positive thread.
Character name: Darbakh Smokestack
Race: Duergar
Class: fighter (eldritch knight)
Age: ~100 years
Profession: smuggler who is also his own bodyguard
Alignment: lawful evil
Archetype: thug with a strong pragmatic streak
Rough (very rough) outline: Darbakh has a premium soul…in fact, a devil and an efreeti who’re old enemies are locked in a conflict to woo him for his eternal soul. Will his afterlife result in his rising as a genie or a hell creature? He doesn’t know, but he does have a good laugh along the way.

Heh – writing an evil character from their perspective and their story is always a challenge. You never want the bad guy to win. That said I do love writing from the bad guy’s perspective, because so rarely do bad guys ever really get fleshed out. They just show up for the big fight and the party defeats them. Now, I know this isn’t like the big bad for a campaign or anything, but it’s the same idea. Delving into what makes a bad guy tick.

Anyway, would love to hear feedback on this and see if it helped you any. It helps me hearing feedback (whether it’s good or bad!) and it also helps keep the thread bumped and alive!
Anyway, enjoy!
=============================================

The best way to get something is done is to hire the foolish to do it for you and ideally, die in the process so you don’t have to hand over any coin.

My name is Darbakh Smokestack and I am what you would call, a logical businessman. Most believe that makes me a thief and a cut throat; maybe the latter, but certainly never a thief. I may do things in a way that others don’t agree with but in the end I am not stealing from anyone. At least I don’t see it that way.

As a Duergar, for centuries, my ancestors have lived here in the Underdark, transformed by the endless, strange, mystical energies of magic that flow uncontrollably here, in the deepest parts of the world, where so few dare venture. That very same magic was what liberated my clan eventually from the horrors of the Illithid – the Mind Flayers – where my Clan had been slaves and endured the most horrible experiments. We never had the chance to have gentle hearts – it was always die or die down here – just had to decide which death you wanted.

Because of that, I grew up always fighting for everything I wanted – more often than not, to the death. Sometimes it was against some beast or horror that exists down here in the Underdark – sometimes it was against my own clan members. Survival of the fittest wasn’t just a saying it was a way of living and dying.

When word got out about some of the unique plants that exist in the Underdark, herbalists and alchemists alike were suddenly very interested in the potential pharmaceutical properties these plants and mushrooms could have. So they began employing adventurers to guide them into the Underdark. I took that opportunity to discover what roads they usually took – and employed the Svirfneblin, which are Deep Gnomes, deeply paranoid about their homes being reclaimed by the Dark Elves, known as Drow, or the Illithid.

So, I may tell a small lie, and tell the Svirfneblin, that a group of adventurers is heading to their home to destroy them and loot them – and since these herbalists and alchemists employee adventurers as escorts and protection – it plays out quite well, when they’re ambushed by angry Svirfneblin. The Svirfneblin aren’t the best fighters, but they don’t need to be – if they drive off the adventurers, it’s fine – better off they kill most of them off, or wound them enough for me to come in and finish them off. When they do, I am willing to part with some of the gold found on the corpses to the Svirfneblin and tell them to bury their dead. Keeps them coming back, thinking I am on their side.

In one of those ambushes we managed to kill a young wizard who was there to study the wild magic of the Underdark. I found what I thought was just a crystal ball – but a few days later, discovered it was an imprisonment orb of some kind. Trapped within it was a devil and an efreeti – and both, trapped together, hated one another – but they both saw something in me.

The each promised me great power if I chose them and completed a ritual that would free one and imprison the other for all eternity. The ritual for each of them was quite different. At first I thought of throwing it in a fiery pit of lava and be done with it; but they both whispered to me of endless power if I just did the ritual for them.

The idea of employing some adventurers and traveling with them while trying to complete one of the rituals certainly didn’t seem like a farfetched idea. Sure, I’d have to keep the crystal and its purpose from them, but I was an expert and bending the truth to my benefit.

I recently rolled up a character in a campaign, though I am not feeling any inspiration for the background.
Name: Vaelyn Sylvaranth
Race: Eladrin
Class: Bard 11 (Glamour)
Ability scores: Str 8 Dex 16 Con 14 Int 10 Wis 12 Cha 18
Feats: Resilient (Con), Alert
I based her off a typical Fire Emblem dancer unit type. Not decided on much, but all the music fluff is replaced by dancing. Physically, she has long red hair, is slender and fit, and usually wears a revealing dancer outfit. She is enchantingly beautiful, and her dances mesmerizing.
Personality-wise, I see her as the opposite of the usual meek, delicate wall-flower archetype of female dancers commonly seen in the Fire Emblem series. She would be confident, charming and not afraid to speak her mind. Her laser mouth would occasionally get her in trouble, but she could also charm her way out of it. She's beautiful and she knows it, and she's not afraid to it as a weapon.
Not fixed on her family, but should mostly be an orphan, with a younger brother/sister. Ultimately, she needs a reason to be adventuring, and I can't think of much beyond 'I need gold'.

I wasn't aware what the Fire Emblem was a reference to; a quick google revealed a game, which I was quite unfamiliar with.
However, just reading how she was a dancer, red hair, it made me think of Leetah from ElfQuest - (seen, lower right in this photo of the elves dancing) - https://elfquest.com/reading-room/eq-oq ... f_23885/7/
Which by the way if you've not read ElfQuest - at the very least the original Quest - you can do so for free, legally, on the ElfQuest website: https://elfquest.com/reading-room/eq-oq/
Anyway, this was fun to write - I like the story of a little redemption and subtle revenge.
I'd love to hear your thoughts - good or bad - so I know if you liked it or not! Also it keeps the thread alive!
Enjoy!
================

I was born an Eladrin and my family was in the service of Queen Krendor. As it would turn out, my family had fallen on hard times and the Queen’s now late husband, had taken us in. He had treated us like family, but the Queen – she was jealous of how her husband had treated us. She’d long believed that King Deranil had an affair with my mother, or that there was stronger than a King to his Subjects feeling shared between the King and my mother.

When the King unexpectedly died, and rest assured, rumors surfaced that the Queen may have had a hand in it (though, those who spoke such words also often disappeared), the Queen subjected my family into a “debt to be paid off.” All the time that the King had generously housed us and fed us, the Queen now demanded payment back. Knowing that my family could not possibly pay such finances back, they were forced into becoming servants for the Queen. My father was made to clean stables and anything else that assured he would be filthy coming home. My mother was made to clean the Kitchen and be the Queen’s ‘food taster’ to ensure none of her food or drink was poisoned.

For myself, I was put into the Queen’s court to entertain her. I was forced to learn how to dance, because the Queen believed that my parents seeing me scantly clothed and dancing in front of the court would bring them shame. In truth, all it did was make me learn how to use my body to manipulate people around me; and being in the Queen’s court, I learned how to speak eloquently and used my words carefully.

When I’d turned seven changes of the cycles, I drew the attention of one of the Queen’s minstrels – an Astral Elf by the name of Loranium. Because he’d been one of the Queen’s favorites, I admit that I took pleasure stealing his gaze away from the Queen. After several days of playfully flirting, with longing gazes and smiles, Loranium asked to speak to me in private. When I agreed, he told me that he’s impressed with my ability to dance and believed that I could use my body the same way a wizard uses their hands or a bard uses their song, to manipulate magic. I was, admittedly, quite curious at such a notion as no one in my family that I was aware of, could have or ever manipulated magic in any manner. So I learned with Loranium – as he played his lute and I danced, he instructed me how to move and sway my body, to weave the magical energies he was emitting to wrap around me, and be manipulated by me. One of the first spells I was able to weave was a cantrip called “Dancing Lights” which I used to make the lights dance and sway with my movement. I was astonished that I’d done it. He then showed me how to concentrate and I could create a “Light” cantrip and use it like a stage light upon myself.

Loranium and I spent many nights together, but never did he make any advances on me or ask anything of me. When I asked what he’d wanted as payment, he simply said he knew who I was and the plight of my family and he’d wanted to help me. We worked together, for several changes of the seasons, and I’d earned enough to pay the debt owed by my family, freeing them, much to the frustration of the Queen. With Loranium’s help, I purchased a modest cottage for my family. Free of the Queen, I wondered what else lay beyond the castle’s walls?

Loranium had said he had business to attend to, several months ago, never clarifying what it was. But he said one day we would meet again.

[Tawmis]

https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... count=1087

I want to play a warlord type character next.
I settled on Half-Orc Battlemaster with the appropriate maneuvers, because you can never go wrong with the classics. I don't mind him being mechanically online at level 3, but story wise, I want his mindset to show as early as possible.
Name: Grimfang
Background: Soldier (Standard Bearer)
I already have a sense of his personality. He will be a pushy, bossy guy who has a knack for the logistics of combat. A flaw he has is that he has no tact, so getting people to do what he wants can cause frictions. I need a backstory where a falling out with his tribe occurs, the thing that sends him into the life of an adventurer.

Sure! I will try to get this out next (ideally this week!)

Managed to knock this one out pretty fast. I didn’t get too much “warlord” vibe to the character, by the time I was done, I focused on his tactics, and how he grew to be strong, and a battle master (did a little bit of everything on the battlefield). Let me know if this works for you!

I know “Standard Bearer” is one of the titles from the Soldier background if you roll or want to select it. But I did some digging, and there’s a homebrew that’s also Standard Bearer (https://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Standard_ ... (5e_Class) ) which I am not sure if that’s what you were picking from.

Enjoy!
======================

Growing up a half-orc, among the Crimson Blade Tribe, was never easy. Made up primarily of orcs, I was a rare exception. Most humans were killed; a few were enslaved, and then killed when their use had run out. My mother was one of those slaves, but whether she truly loved her captor – my father, or was doing whatever it took to survive, I will never know. Whatever her reasons, my father freed her from her bonds and allowed her to walk freely in the camp. She never tried to escape (she knew the orcs would hunt her down, I am sure). To the surprise of all, she eventually became pregnant, even though my father already had an orc wife. This naturally led to complications, and his wife was mysteriously found dead, and he took the human as his new wife.

This only added to the complications of my upbringing. I was always looked at as ‘that child’ – the ‘half breed of a murderer.’ In an effort to prove myself to my ‘full breed’ brethren, I joined the Crimson Blade army very early in life. I took the beatings and the lashings, rising up to my feet time and time again. The more they tried to break me the more I rose up and the more they learned to respect me. I fought as an Infantry, a Scout, and eventually became the Standard Bearer.

After all I’d been put through from my own tribe, and the things I’d seen in battle, when things seemed grim, the soldiers turned to me for inspiration. I was their motivation to keep pushing on, just as I’d done when my own people were against me. The scars that decorated my skin were like strings on a bard’s instrument; each of them told a story and those who listened were inspired by the words I had to share.

Even as the Standard Bearer, I felt my own people were still against me. I marched at the front of battle, leading the soldiers behind me, with my inspiration and demands; holding a large flag, that made me an easy target. Yes, I knew this was clearly a means my own people were still against me; if I fell, if the banner fell, dishonor would come to my mother and father as well, and they would be forced to be exiled; the blemish, the stain in the tribe which they could never prove could be done away with by using my failure.

Yet time and time again, I roared in the front, bearing the standard, the two crimson blades, crossed in front of a black shield and marched into battle time and time again. Never did I fall; I took cuts and arrows each and every time, but my knee never buckled; the banner never fell.

This had made me confident; and very pushy. But it only grew as time and time again, my methods were correct and my knack for understanding the battlefield better than the generals who sat in the back was usurping any hope of using me as a method to shame my mother and father and finally bring exile upon them.

While I’d been successful and the soldiers were turning to me more than the general’s commands; the general realized he would need to prove his worth and rode into battle against a human settlement. With my guidance we were able to get through the gates and storm the village, killing the soldiers as they tried to defend the village.

When General Talon and I were side by side, we saw a woman, holding an infant, retreat into her hut. I saw the general laugh and chase after her. I chased after the general. Inside the hut, he had the woman on the ground; she was using her own body to shield her infant. General Talon was discussing how he’d murder the child and take the woman as his own personal slave. As he drew his blade, I put my hand on his wrist. “We can’t kill an innocent child,” I growled, unsure where this sudden conscious had come from.

“Innocent child?” General Talon laughed. “Don’t you think when it grows up and hears about how we murdered everyone else in the town it’s not going to come for us?”

“We can not kill a defenseless child,” I repeated. “There’s no honor in that.” So that’s it? Is that what my conscious was telling me? Spare the child because killing a defenseless child would be dishonorable?

General Talon shook off my hand and drew his weapon.

He was surprised to feel his own blood running down his chest. He looked down and saw the tip of the banner spear had gone through the back of his throat. He tried to call out about the betrayal but all he could do was choke on his blood. I extended my hand to the woman, “I am getting you out of here. But then you and your baby need to run. Run far.”

Knowing how the soldiers would move through the village, I kept her hidden, as well as the general’s body, throwing him on the other side of the bed and threw the blankets on top of him so he would not be spotted. Once I knew the tribe had passed, I ignited her hut on fire and began running with her, keeping a rag in the child’s mouth to stifle its crying. We escaped and once we were far enough, I told her to leave and handed her the general’s dagger as a weapon to defend herself; then I ran in the opposite direction.

I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I knew I could never go back… but now they’d found the banner, if it hadn’t burned down, stained with the general’s blood…

[Tawmis]

https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... count=1091

OK, Tawmis, I have another one for you. I’m not sure of the class on this one, but I don’t think it matters, for purposes of the story. Eloquence bard or mastermind rogue? Something else entirely? It probably doesn’t need to be told in this story, but if you want to work something in, that’s cool. I'm thinking of the daughter of a noble house, who is sheltered. Not allowed to leave the grounds of the family's compound in the city. I'm not quite sure what their motivation is for keeping her. They want to keep her safe? They have plans for her, though, and are educating her and grooming her for leadership, so she has a lot of INT and CHA skills. But she finds it all tiring because it's all schooling and she has so little interaction with other people so, she takes time to herself whenever she can. She starts sneaking out at night. At some point, she comes across a criminal element. They don't know who she is at the time, but she certainly doesn't seem like a street urchin, so they are going to hold her for ransom, but she quickly establishes herself as someone who is worth more on their side.
Down the road I see her running the thieves’ guild, as well as her own House.

Since you didn’t provide a name, I came up with one – I used google translate to change the word “Freedom” in Scottish Gaelic which gave me a feminine sounding name. And “freedom” seemed fitting for the overall theme I used. Naturally this can be changed to whatever you want it to be. The surname is the word “Heart” translated (as in compassion and love). The Handmaiden’s name comes from the word “Escape” being translated. Ceol is the word “music” translated in a similar fashion. “Fuil” comes from Blood and “Dorch” comes from “Dark.”

I ended up focusing on her youth, and how she gets out, and the two friends she makes from it; and then her plan to set two guilds against each other (and then from there, could be assumed she took control of the Dorch Blades eventually).

Hope this works out for you! Let me know! I love feedback – whether you liked it or not, let me know what you think!

Enjoy!
=========================



“I don’t understand why I am not permitted beyond the castle walls,” Saorsa complained as she threw herself onto her bed. “I am so tired of going to father’s estate affair meetings and just listening,” she yelled into her pillow, muffling her voice.

Her mother, Queen Cridhe, smiled at her daughter. “You are your father’s sole heir,” her mother explained; this had been the third time this week, but even still, she spoke the words with love and kindness. “Unfortunately,” she added, for the first time admitting to her daughter, “I am not able to have any more children. So, one day, this,” she gestured around her, “will be yours to rule. A man will come along to sit at your side as king, and you must understand how to run the kingdom. Your father, rightfully so,” she confessed, “is worried for your safety, as the sole heir to the kingdom.”

Saorsa looked at her mother in disgust, “But I don’t want a man,” she said matter-of-factly.

Her mother laughed. “When I was your age, I too, did not want a man. But soon, you will change, and you will desire children and experience the love I did when I was given you as the best gift I could ever hope for.”

When Saorsa turned sixteen years old, she did indeed change. Her body blossomed and her interests in attractive boys suddenly swam within her mind and fluttered at her heart. As she began taking care of herself and dressing up, her mother assigned a handmaiden by the name of Teicheadh who came from an Eastern Island, where many were poor and seeking a better life. While Teicheadh was dressed in nice clothing, as the princess’ handmaiden, her hair was pulled tight, but did not hide the beauty of her soft blue eyes against her tan complexion.

Saorsa and Teicheadh became close, as Teicheadh helped her throughout the day, and being of similar age, often discussed similar things they enjoyed – boys included. One day, Teicheadh explained that because she had full access to the castle, she’d learned of several of the secret passages the staff used to stay out of sight during important meetings. Teicheadh explained she could help Saorsa get outside and Saorsa was thrilled.

The two slipped through one of the passages one night and made their way outside and it was there Saorsa suddenly heard beautiful music like she’d never heard. She rounded a corner and met a young man named Ceol. The young man had been strumming his lute. Teicheadh introduced him, clearly showing she’d known him for some time, with the familiarity in her tone in which she spoke of him.

Ceol bowed, “Welcome,” he said, his voice gentle and suave. “Teicheadh has told me about you,” Ceol explained. “The girl in the tower.” Ceol too, was from the Eastern Island, from which Teicheadh had come from; his tanned skin and thick accent revealed as much. He strummed his lute, and sang a song of a bird, who had been trapped in a cage, until the master finally freed it, and the bird could use its wings and feel the sky, and finally be free. It’d been a song that Saorsa was familiar with; the song was called “The Other Side.” She’d never heard it sung so beautifully, only spoken in the form of poetry. But Ceol did not finish the song as he abruptly stopped and stood up. “Get behind me,” he whispered.

Several men stepped out from the shadows, “Pretty song about a pretty bird,” one of the men, holding a dagger that gleamed in the moonlight, laughed. Saorsa briefly wondered if Teicheadh and Ceol had set her up; but the look of terror in Teicheadh’s face was genuine and Ceol was slowly drawing a dagger from his belt.

“Listen,” another man chuckled. “We don’t want to hurt any o’ you. Jus’ han’ us over your money and we go away, you see.”

“We have no money,” Ceol said, his dagger firmly in his hand now.

“Well then it looks like we got ourselves a problem,” the man growled. The other men – she counted sixteen of them – began drawing their weapons. “Hand us over the pretty bird.”

Ceol looked over at his shoulder at Saorsa and then looked back at the brigands. “I can’t do that, either,” he said firmly.

“Well, then looks like we got an’ even bigger problem,” one of the men laughed. “Looks like you die, we take the pretty bird and the other girlie and sell’em for money. Fine market for the likes of them.”

Saorsa spoke up, “If you promise to allow us to go unharmed,” she said, “I may be able to provide you with important information.”

“Oh, the pretty bird talks?” the first man remarked.

“I am heir to the throne,” she explained, “and if you allow myself and my friends to leave, I will deliver information to you from my father’s estate meetings.”

“Hold on,” the second man said, his voice slightly different. “Step in’ the ligh’ littl’ bird.”

Saorsa stepped forward.

“It’s her,” the first brigand gasped. “Wha’s the littl’ bird doin’ outta her cage?”

“That isn’t important, do you accept the terms of my agreement?” Saorsa asked firmly.

“How are we supposta trus’ ya?” the man asked.

“You can risk it,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Do not do this,” Teicheadh whispered.

“If the litt’ bird is lyin’,” one of the men said, “we just make our way in an’ make’er pay.” He titled the blade so it flickered in the moonlight.

“Fine, we will agree to your terms,” the first one growled. The men melted back into the shadows.

“You can’t betray your family,” Teicheadh said once she knew the men were gone.

“She’s right,” Ceol said, sheathing his dagger.

The thrill of the danger and the threat had overcome Saorsa in the moment, and for the first time, she’d felt alive and in control of her destiny. “I noticed their blades,” she said. “They were from the Dorch Blades. My father has been meeting about putting an end to the Fuil Marks, who are far more deadly. The Dorch Blades are harmless thug compared to the Fuil Marks, who are hired assassins. I plan on learning about the Dorch Blades, by giving them some information – and eventually set them against the Fuil Marks, as I learn from my father’s meetings where they are centered.”

“That is very risky,” Ceol shook his head.

“I know,” Saorsa smiled.

It’d been the danger and thrill that excited her the most.

[Tawmis]

https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... count=1093

Name: Snaknut Copperneck
Race: Deep Gnome / Svirfneblin
Background: Guild Artisan
Characteristics
1 - Personality Traits: I believe that anything worth doing is worth doing right. I can't help it—I'm a perfectionist.
2 – Ideas: My craft was given to me but my skills were hard earned.
3 – Bonds: I will get revenge on the evil forces that destroyed my place of business and ruined my livelihood.
4 – Flaws: I'm never satisfied with what I have I always know that someone else will always be able to outshine my handiwork.
Class: Artificer + Rogue
I have most of the backstory sort of done but I feel like it needs more added in places to make it make more sense furthermore all place mentioned needs to be blank or something like DM's discretion in my opinion I will be pasting my backstory that I have manage so far below.

Snaknut grew up in the underdark underneath [Insert city name] with his father and mother. He was taught how to craft guns by his father, until one day his father mysteriously disappeared leave Snaknut alone with his sickly mother. Not long after his father's disappearance, Snaknut was forced to live day to day to keep him and his mother alive, fearing that his mother would be next to leave him. He unsuccessfully sought work and began stealing to survive. After resorting to crime to feed his mother and himself, he knew then that there was not much else he could do other than continue down his treacherous path.
After a while, he was fine with taking any job that came his way, but soon after, "the contracts" came in. Fearing his mother would despise him, he did everything he could to keep his work a secret. He even asked the harpers whom he worked for to keep in under wraps. Despite his precautions, his mother eventually found out about his many misdeeds. Wrought with grief of what her child was doing to keep her alive, she decided to take her own life so he could live on.

Now alone, he concluded there was nothing left for him in the underdark, and escaped his past by adventuring up to the surface. Snaknut quickly made a name for himself, running his shop, Copperneck's Emporium in peace for many a year. However his years of peaceful shopkeeping all came to an end when his shop was destroyed in an attack (Dm if there's something that fits with the story feel free to use it). With only a few charred bits of his store's inventory and his fathers tools, he swore he would take revenge on those who stole his livelihood.

So I expanded on what you had to flesh things out - why the father left, and all of that. I made small changes, which I hope work out.

I also named the city you're from as well as what happened to your store - naturally, your DM (or you) can change these things.

Just little notes – “Dachaigh sgàile” (which I dropped the accent over the ‘a’ and made it Dachaighsgaile) translates to “Shadow Home” in Scottish Gaelic. I often resort to that for coming up with creative names for characters or locations. I assume this campaign is in the Forgotten Realms (based on your note) but didn’t want to use an official city in case your DM wants to do something with this town, or eventually lead the party into the Underdark and visit an actual town there. The word you will see (no spoilers here!) you will see is “A' seargadh” (stands for “Withering”) which I just changed to “Aseargadh.” Another word you’re going to see is “Leigheas” which means “cure.”

As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts. What you liked, or didn't like. Any feedback is appreciated, as I write these; I seek to grow and see if I can write what's requested of me.
As always - Enjoy!
========================================

In a world illuminated by translucent mushrooms and plants that covered he spectrums of red and blue, yellow and green, one would think life would be wonderful and beautiful. But the beauty of the Underdark was also the mask that hid the horrors that lived here.

Snaknut Copperneck was the son of Ord Copperneck and Gradh Copperneck and like his father, Ord, was born with the gift of being an artisan. His father was well known and well respected for his craft in making batagunnas, more commonly known as ‘guns’ in the common lands. While Snaknut, like his father, had been with a natural talent for his workmanship in crafting these weapons, many often compared his work to his father’s, and his father’s long years of experience had always yielded finer craftmanship than what Snaknut was able to produce.

This created a quirk within Snaknut, as he grew tired to being compared to his father and being told that his craftsmanship was inferior to his father. His father, Ord, however enjoyed seeing how his son worked relentlessly to master the craft, just as Ord had once done when being compared to his own father.

The business had been running fabulously as Snaknut’s soon matched his fathers, and telling the difference between his own workmanship and his father’s was virtually impossible. Snaknut was feeling better than he’d ever had and was positive life simply could not get better here in Dachaighsgaile, where he’d lived. But his life would take a tragic turn when his mother suddenly fell mysteriously ill. The Clerics and Priests, despite their best efforts, could not find what ailed her and as such, could not find the means – even magically – to heal her. Instead, Snaknut and his father, watched as she slowly withered away.

One night, after his own father seemed to be withering away from a broken heart, watching his wife die; Ord approached his son and said, “I have been reading and I believe I know what the sickness is. It’s a rare disease known as Aseargadh. I found evidence of its existence in the old tomes at the Great Library here in Dachaighsgaile! Unfortunately, the cure is a very rare form of plant here in the Underdark, and the trek to find it is wrought with danger – I must venture beyond the realm of the Drow, beyond the lakes full of the vile aboleths, and go into the gardens of the Illithid, for the Leigheas flower is only known to be grown by the Illithid.”

Snaknut grabbed his father’s arm. “You can’t.”

“You would have your mother die this slow death?” Ord growled.

“I would not,” Snaknut replied, “but if you go so far into the dark, I fear I will lose both parents.”

“I will not and can not try everything that I can to try and save your mother,” his father snapped as he yanked his arm from his son’s grasp and stormed out of their home.

The days turned to weeks, turned to months, and just as Snaknut had feared, it would be the last time he ever saw his father. Never knowing if he died or worse, haunted Snaknut, but he knew he still had his mother to try and take care of.

Snaknut turned to his craft as a means of money, continuing to run his father’s business. The people of Dachaighsgaile were sympathetic to Snaknut’s plight of his dying mother and his father, who all presumed to be dead, and tried to support Snaknut by purchasing the merchandise he’d crafted. However, as the sole person making the merchandise, the amount of money he was bringing in was not enough to pay for the medical treatments to keep his mother comfortable. One night, when Meirleach, a fellow Svirfneblin approached him about a “business opportunity” to earn a little extra money, Snaknut understood how his father felt, and though he knew Meirleach’s reputation, he accepted; because Snaknut would do anything to keep his mother alive now.

As Snaknut worked for Meirleach, he was surprised to learn that Meirleach’s reputation was an utter lie. Meirleach himself had garnered the reputation to throw people off. In truth, each of the tasks I’d done for him were to spy on others, either as a merchant and obtain information; or to steal something from someone who’d been corrupt in one of the larger cities of the Underdark. Meirleach’s reputation as a thief and a liar, was to hide the truth – he was one of the Harpers, and after successfully completing a number of missions for him, I was recruited into the Harpers.

Unfortunately, another merchant at Blingdenstone had seen Snaknut speaking with one of Meirleach’s associates and brought word back to Snaknut’s mother. When Snaknut had returned from that mission, he was confronted by his deathly ill mother who expressed her shame in his actions.

Snaknut, despite the code of the Harpers, tried to explain that he was not a thief, and truly someone who was trying to make a difference. Her mother, however, did not believe him.

She looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes, “Your father would be disappointed at the fall you’ve taken. If I were not already dying, this would have broken my heart and stopped the blood from going to my veins.” He watched as she then took a drink from her glass that she’d always taken with her medicine; however, this time, she immediately collapsed and began foaming at the mouth. As the contents of the mug spilled out, Snaknut could distinctly smell marbh berries; a lethal toxin. As he threw himself on his mother and held her in his arms, she choked, “Now you are free… you don’t need to steal to pay for my health… you are free. Redeem yourself.”

And in the darkness of it all, she passed away with one final gasp of air.

Snaknut screamed.

He used the last of his coin and assured his mother had a magnificent burial ceremony, then packed up his few possessions and left. He wandered the Underdark for days, perhaps even weeks, with no direction, no idea what he was going to do. He eventually, through wandering aimlessly, found a cave that led to the surface world.

He held his eyes up to block the sun and thought, “I can begin anew.”

Snaknut found his way to Daggerford where he gained employment for his artisan skills, which rapidly were admired by many in the blooming town. He’d earned himself enough to open his own shop, and felt that both his mother and father would be proud. It wasn’t a large shop, but it was big enough, and people enjoyed both purchasing the works that Snaknut had mastered, but also coming by to admire and talk to Snaknut about his amazing work, which had made him feel wonderful.

Snaknut had once again, found his peace, his haven, and his home.

While at Nightstone, a town not too far away, trading and selling his items to expand, as the wagons returned to Daggerford – black smoke spiraled into the air. Panic set in – and all of the merchants rushed forward. Snaknut’s store, Copperneck's Emporium, had been one of the many places burned to the ground. As he asked around to those who’d survived the attack, he discovered an ancient red dragon by the name of Flameblight, who was known to be in the area, had been responsible for the attack. Snaknut gathered the few items that had not burned in the fire and vowed vengeance.

[Tawmis]

https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglep ... count=1095

Character name: Zarus Don Marinus
Race: Tiefling
Gender: Male
Class: Warlock (lvl 2) / Patron: Genie / Kind: Marid / Element: Water
Age: 19 / Height: 4'11" / Weight: 115LB
Eyes: Light Blue / Hair: Dark Blue / Skin: Blue
Antecedents: Sage / Profession: Librarian / Alignment: NG
Known Languages: Infernal / common / sylvan / Elvish
Personality Traits - I idolize a particular hero of my faith and constantly refer to that person's deeds and example. I would rather make a new friend than a new enemy.
Ideals - People. I'm committed to the people I care about, not to ideals. (Neutral)
Bonds - I idolize a hero of the old tales and measure my deeds against that person's. I work to preserve a library.
Flaws - I have a 'tell' that reveals when I'm lying. (tell: then, then...)

note points:
-Family: Single father or stepfather (mother died: Consumed by a monster)
-lifestyle: Modest
-CHILDHOOD HOME: Small house
-CHILDHOOD MEMORIES: I always found it easy to make friends and I love being around people.
-I became a sage because... I impressed a magician who told me that I should seek formal education so as not to waste my talents.
-I became a wizard because... I was examining a strange tome I found in an abandoned library when the entity that would become my Patronus suddenly appeared.
-HIGHLIGHTS EVENTS: You have committed a crime or been accused of committing one, although you are innocent.
-Crime: Extortion
-Punishment: You committed the crime or contributed to its realization, but the authorities declared you innocent.
-Father and mother: human, the infernal heritage of both dormant until their birth.
-Born: Rook.
-For some reason I went down in the underdark, it doesn't necessarily have to be underdark but in some deeper cave.
-It turns out that I was captured by drolls.
-I've been in prison for 9 days, at a vekenvef outpost (I think that's how you spell it).
-We started naked, without any equipment.
-Some days we are chosen periodically to do tasks (prisoners).
-We are waiting for the droll caravan to take us menzobenzahan (I think that's how it is also spelled), where we will be sold as slaves and such.
Final sayings:
Feel free to change some things, and add many others, I leave your creativity to the fate of the story of Zarus Don Marinus.
if you need to change any personality trait/ideal/bonds/flaws, feel free.
there's one important thing, I'm going to play Out Of Abyss.

Fun notes – You will see the word "fadas" – which is actually "fad a's" which means "distant" in Scottish Gaelic. The word "aotrom" actually means light.
Another fun note, the demon mentioned - Bar'garius – can be seen in several of the previous origin stories I’ve written for people here, so it was fun to have the chance to mention him again. He’s a custom demon I came up with for the sake of writing these origins.
I didn't cover the "crime" part of your origin - because it was already getting lengthy. But I suppose it could be said when Zarus first got to Waterdeep, he got involved in that extortion thing, to try and get some money before he got the job at the Library, to try and pay for a place to live.
And there's one small thing I changed.
And I hope you like the ... cliff hanger... the shock I deliver at the end.
This one was really writing itself.
Please let me know what you think!
As always - enjoy!
=========================================


Zarus Don Marinus had led, for the most part, an easy life.

Even at a young age, Zarus enjoyed being around people. His heart reached out, pulling people into his circle, and he loved them and treated them like family. His mother and father both admired his ability to walk into a room and without hesitation quickly befriend those around him.

His mother and father quickly discovered his tell when he would lie to protect those friend he’d made. "It wasn’t Azarick! They, they, they," and he stammered over the word ‘they’ repeatedly as his brain scrambled to find a way to define a way that would twist the story and preserve their innocence.

When Zarus was ten years old his life would take a drastic turn. His mother had ventured out to the fadas gardens to gather aotrom flowers that bloomed only once per season, the bloom of the flower that had its unique pollen that was used as a part of creating healing potions might only bloom for an hour, before the pollen had become unusable.

While she’d been in the fields, she heard people screaming – and moving rapidly through the tall grass was what at first appeared to be a giant snake; but when it reared up – its upper torso was that of a woman, with six arms. Two of her arms bore long, gleam swords, while the other four had grabbed his mother, witnesses said, before teleporting away. Zarus would learn that the creature that had taken his mother was known as a "Marilith" – a powerful demon.

Zarus’ father had been devastated by the loss, and yet, somehow he did not seem surprised. Zarus noticed, even as young as he was at that time that while his father wept continuously of the news, Zarus could still remember his father’s expression when he’d first been told the news – there was shock, only for the briefest of moments, then a solemn understanding.

When Zarus was twelve a wizard by the name of Cinnidh had come into the small village that Zarus called home. Cinnidh was a human wizard, tall, strong, but walked leaning on his gnarled wooden staff that seemed to have fireflies constantly fluttering about the top, knotted portion of his staff. The odd dancing lights created an unusual effect on Cinnidh’s face. The wizard’s beard was grey and long, but his eyes were piercing blue and his skin soft. His beard and hair betrayed his appearance, for his skin made him look as if he were no older than twenty.

As Cinnidh hobbled by, leaning on his staff, he’d stopped short – pausing and slowly turning his head to look at Zarus who swallowed deeply, afraid he’d somehow offended the wizard and was about to be turned into a frog. The wizard extended his hand – and Zarus knew – this was it. He wasn’t sure what he’d done but fate was about to deliver another cruel twist – life, forever, as a frog.

He was surprised, as he opened his eyes and felt the wizard’s gentle hand on his shoulder. "There is an awakening with you," Cinnidh said. "I see it. Darkness festers in your soul, but your heart is pure light; so when the darkness comes… when the darkness blooms… the light of your heart will make it a shadow and only a shadow. The light will keep that darkness at bay. But that darkness… it can be used, weaved, controlled. There is magic in you, young Zarus."

Zarus was in such a state of shock that it took a moment for him to realize Cinnidh had spoken his name. "Wait. How do you know my name?"

The wizard smiled, his face seemingly going blank. "Pardon me, boy? Did you say I knew your name?"

"You just said it," Zarus stammered. "You called me young Zarus."

"Did I?" Cinnidh asked, seemingly confused. "Well, I probably said the young are among us," Cinnidh shrugged, "maybe you misheard me?"

Zarus opened his mouth to debate the wizard; but the wizard’s blank stare back at him had seemed genuine. "Perhaps you are right," Zarus finally sighed and Cinnidh smiled and continued along the way.

A few short years later, when Zarus had hit puberty; not only had his body begun going through the normal changes; something drastic also happened. Zarus’ once tan skin began to change color; changing to a soft blue, like a clear sky. His eyes turned to light blue colors from their hazel; while his hair turned to dark blue, looking like the waves of the sea frozen in time during a drastic sea storm. If that were already not enough, Zarus developed horns on his head.

His father sat him down after all of this happened and explained, "Fate is cruel, Zarus. Your mother and I both come from… broken families. Perhaps that is what drew us together… that common thing we had. Our parents had been a part of the Bar'garius cult. Bar'garius is a demon who gives special favors to those who sacrifice their first. You were our first, and we knew we could not part with you. So we refused Bar'garius’ gift and led the simple life which we’ve led. But… Bar'garius is a demon… he does not take kindly to his gifts being declined. I believe that’s why a demon came for your mother in the fields… I believe it was no coincidence… it was sent by Bar'garius. And now Bar'garius watched and laughs at me in my dreams, tormenting me, sending me visions of your mother… His bloodline is deep in our family, and sometimes that blood line surfaces in the way of what you are, my son – a tiefling. A human born with the blood of a demon in your veins. I searched for a way to ‘cure’ you of this – to find a way to purify your bloodline, if you will. But I could find nothing. I am so sorry."

Zarus’ father wept uncontrollably and for the first time, Zarus saw how much his father had aged since the abduction of his mother. Grey lines in his hair were deep and dark; the jagged wrinkles etched in his face were deep, like cuts through his flesh. He’d been hiding it from his son for so long and the mask finally broke away.

Zarus thought back to what the wizard, Cinnidh, had said just a few short years ago – that there was an awakening coming within him; a darkness, but his heart was the light that will keep the darkness as shadows only; and that there was power and magic within him. Zarus begged and pleaded with his father to allow him to go to Waterdeep to learn more about Cinnidh, Bar'garius, and about whom he was and who he could potentially grow to be.

His father, seeing that there was no changing Zarus’ mind, finally agreed and used almost all that he had left to pay for Zarus’ passage to Waterdeep aboard a caravan. When Zarus arrived at Waterdeep he was overwhelmed by the volume of people around him, who flowed like the very name of the city – water, flowing around a stagnant rock who gazed around himself in awe. It was not long before Zarus’ innate ability to befriend people that he met another new person who’d come to Waterdeep. Together they made their way to the Great Library of Waterdeep and applied as caretakers of the books and were both hired.

Zarus was consumed by the seemingly endless amounts of knowledge that surrounded him. When the Great Library closed, he and the other book caretakers remained, to put all the books back in order. When those tasks were done, Zarus would often spend his time reading random volumes of books that had caught his interest.

One of the books, which Zarus actually found odd – for it did not have any of the traditional Great Library markings to determine where the book was to be stored – but also, the book felt damp, as if it’d been sitting out drying. As he examined the book, he could clearly see this had not been a book from the Great Library – someone must have brought it in to read and forgotten to take it home. Zarus figured he would take the book home and help dry it to ensure the book did not damage any of the books in the library. When Zarus got to his very small apartment he examined the book again. There were no markings and only the word "Uisge" was written along the spine in an odd form of cursive that he’d never seen before. He opened the book and initially he could not read the words scribbled on the pages; they’d looked as if they’d been symbols – but to his surprise, he watched as those symbols changed slowly into words – legible words. As he read the story, it spoke of a genie by the name of Uisge, who’d come from the Plane of Water – and that it had been betrayed by a demon and "torn asunder."

Much to Zarus’ surprise, the moisture in the book suddenly pooled into the center of the page, and a Genie appeared. "Zarus," it said. "I am so glad you have finally found me. Cinnidh told me to expect you. And I see why he has selected you. Your blue skin, like the shallow waters; your light blue eyes, like the clear skies; and your hair, the dark, raging storm inside of you. My name is Uisge, and I am what is known as a Marid Genie. I was betrayed by a demon named Bar'garius. He has taken the crystal from my headdress, my power and hidden it away from me. I’ve reached out and learned that it is in a place deep and dark and full of terrors. Zarus, help me – and I can help you. Your mother, she’s not dead, and if you help me, I can be restored and I can help you find her."

Zarus dropped the book in shock.

[Tawmis]

https://forums.giantitp.com/showthread. ... st25788754

I need help with the background of my gnome rune knight I have a little bit of it. no giants around dad is a glass blower mom disappeared my name is Zook timbers

Hey! Sorry about the delay.
Work has been a little on the... wild side... these past few weeks.
Economy being what it is... work also began to go a little nuts.
But for now, things appear more stable.

So I got to writing this - sat down - and it just poured out of me.

You mentioned no giants - so I centered on that as an interesting point to leap from.

Hope you enjoy - please comment and let me know if you liked it, hated it, what you liked or didn't like.

Not only does it help me and my writing, it also helps keep the thread bumped and alive for others to see and potentially submit for character background stories being written up!

Enjoy!
============================

I’ve always wondered – what happened?

We’ve found evidence that at one time, giants roamed this world. From the extractions and translations of runes we’ve uncovered, there appeared to be an ordering to these giants – some who either flew or simply lived among the clouds; others who wielded such things as fire, ice, and lightning; and others still who seemed to be a simpler kind, of simple mind.

But where did they go? What could have happened?

How could the very existence of giants simply have… vanished? Were they called away by some Holy Order. Is that why no one can remember them? Were they erased from our minds?

My name is Zook Timbers and I have lived a life in pursuit of discovering what happened to these giants that roamed the world. That had not always been my “mission in life” if you will. I started this as a mercenary – a fighter who was hired to help protect the excavators who were uncovering these writings. As I sat among them, listening to their tales and theories of what happened to the giants, and what they may have done before they disappeared – I found myself being pulled deeper and deeper into the ideas they spouted.

One night, a gnome – one of the most beautiful I’d ever seen. She had hair of burning embers and yet in sharp contrast her eyes were so blue they were like slits of ice. She’d approached me when the others had been sleeping and introduced herself as “Stiuiridh” – her voice had a thick accent – one I’d never heard of before. She tugged on my shoulder, her Common clearly not her native tongue – but she tugged on my shoulder and pointed towards the excavation cave. She seemed to want me to go with her – I grabbed my weapon and followed her in. As we walked deeper and deeper into the cave, I tried to make conversation with her – to understand where she had come from and where her accent was derived from; but all she ever did was turn her head and smile at me, and each time she did – that’s all I needed. I almost felt compelled to simply keep following her deeper and deeper into the dark. It was almost an hour before I realized how long we’d been traveling and how deep we were.

She pointed at a door, then pointed at me, then back to the door. She then grabbed my upper arm and squeezed and then pointed to the door again. She seemed to have wanted me to open the door. I sheathed my weapon and placed my hands on the door – and noticed there were runes on this door. I looked at her questioningly, but she smiled and nodded her head.

I gave the door a shove – and in that moment – felt the door react. Magical energy coursed through my veins from my fingers down to the very core of my body – I even felt it ripple through the hair on my head and back down my spine – that is, before I blacked out.

I was awakened back at the primary excavation camp where several people were asking me what happened, what was I doing down there, and how I’d found it. I described how Stiuiridh had led me down there – and they explained that there was no “Stiuiridh” on their excavation. I tried to explain that they must have been wrong – but they showed me. There was indeed no “Stiuiridh” – and everyone was accounted for and she was not standing among them.

I asked how they found me; and they explained there was a loud ‘boom’ then the ground shook. The following morning the excavators discovered that the rumble of the ground last night exposed a previously unknown tunnel – the one that had led to me. I explained that wasn’t possible; the path Stiuiridh had led him through did not require moving any stones.

They asked me about the rune print infused in my hand. I stared at my hand – and sure enough, the same rune that had been on the door was now burned into the palm of my hands with perfect clarity. One of the excavators explained the rune was the word “Power” in the ancient language of the Giants, according to their transcriptions that they’d uncovered.

I began feeling strange the next few days; as if the very fabric of reality was whispering to me. When I went to a Mage to ask what the Rune on my hand could mean; he explained that I’d been gifted with Magic. I explained that wasn’t possible. No one – NO ONE – in my family had ever wielding magic. My father was a simple glass blower, and as much as I love him, he was also pretty simple minded. He was great at what he did, but his mind did not grasp much more than that. My mother, she’d vanished one night – when I was young – but I had no memories of her wielding magic.

The Mage explained that there’s a form of magic known as ‘Rune Magic’ where Mages learned to channel the magic around them using runes. The Mage then asked if I had been feeling strange since I got the runes; and I explained I had. He then told me it was because my ability to control magic was trying to tell my body to use it.

I studied with this Mage who was happy to take me on; and I learned to combine my natural ability as a fighter with this new found ability of using Runes to channel magic.