SHP Forums

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=431

mistermysterio;24117025 wrote: Name: Aelenia Galanodel (which means Moonwhisper)
Race: Wood Elf
Class: Ranger (Revised/deepstalker)
Alignment: Neutral Good
Background: Emissary Far Traveller
Traits: I have different assumptions from those around me concerning personal space, blithely invading others' space in innocence.
Ideal: I'm far from home, and everything is strange and wonderful!
Bond: I hold no greater cause than my service to my people.
Flaw: I am secretly (or not so secretly) convinced of the superiority of my own culture over that of this foreign land.

She's a weird mix of outgoing, doesn't-understand-concept-of-personal-space, happy elf girl with a no-nonsense, get your work done, and take down enemies of the state as needed warrior (as deepstalkers tend to stick to shadows and are really good at alpha strikes).
Anyhow, feel free to shift things around if a better idea comes to you - she doesn't really exist yet. For now, she's a backup character if my current one dies.
Thanks!

I didn't dive too much into her character development...
Rather, this time I seemed more focused on her being an Emissary Far Traveler... and how/why she has no concept of personal space (and why she might invade another person's space without picking up their social queues)... I do think I managed to capture her "no non-sense" and "superior" attitude towards the end...
Let me know your thoughts!
Enjoy!
=================================================
Evermeet once existed on the Prime Material Plane, until the events of the Spellplague which sundered the Green Isle, forcing the survivors to flee into the Feywild.

I spent my life growing up in the Feywild and learning to survive the bizarre world that encompasses the Feywild. Living in the Feywild was walking a balance that existed, yet somehow, did not exist. You spoke your mind freely, no matter how it might impact those around you; but you also recognized that may Fey were emotionally volatile. When you live in a land dominated by Satyrs, Pixies, Sprites, such things as personal space bleed away, as they’re very up close and personal (and often quite touchy; which by normal standards may seem off-putting or even offensive, but in the Feywild, to deflect such attention is an affront to their character and “honor” for lack of a better word).

“Why do you resist me, sweet Moonwhisperer?” Hoorstone, a Satyr sitting next to me, smiled.

“Because you don’t appeal to me,” I chuckled.

“I need not appeal to you to enjoy each other’s company under the covers,” Hoorstone winked, “A simple Darkness spell, and you can imagine me to be whoever you want me to be. But I promise you, whoever it is you imagine, will never live up to the passion I can deliver.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” I sighed, shaking my head, unable to hide my smile.

“It is, and if you give me just one moment, I can prove it,” he assured me.

“Just one moment,” I laughed back. “I’d hope it would last longer than that.”

“Much longer,” he assured me with a wide grin. “Does that mean you’re considering it? I could invite some Sprites and Pixies along to enhance the experience.”

“I might be,” I winked.

“Aelenia Galanodel,” Byseen, one of the Sun Elves rounded the corner, “Ivor Sonweisman calls for you.”

“No! Not now!” Hoorstone sighed and slumped against the couch.

“Duty calls,” I chuckled. “Perhaps when I am done speaking with him we can continue our conversation.”


Ivor Sonweisman, of the Royal Council called me to stand before him and the rest of the Council. “Aelenia Galanodel we have reason to believe that the Drow may be up to something in the Underdark. We have contacts on Faerûn that have returned messages to us that they have uncovered an ancient relic of great power that ties directly to the dark goddess, Lloth.”

“We need not remind you,” Garn Wulfeblood said, leaning forward, his purple tinted eyes squinting at me, “what happened when the Drow attacked Green Isle.”

“No,” I smiled, “you do not need to remind me, Garn. I am well aware and know the history quite well.”

Ivor cast a side glance at Garn, then looked back at me and said, “It’s good to know you will be prepared and know what they’re capable of. You cannot – and will not – fail us.”

I bowed deeply before the Royal Council, “My people are my life. If the Drow have uncovered some form of artifact that ties to Lloth, I will find it and I will destroy it.”

That was two years ago, when I booked passage aboard the Dragonship “The Skylan” and returned to Faerûn. I made my first stop be Waterdeep, where I gathered information about the Drow and the Underdark. Unfortunately, very little was known about the Underdark, as most dared not venture into it because of the horrors that waited in every shadow – where even the shadows themselves were a part of the horrors.

With very little knowledge (not entirely surprising, since it was a city whose majority were humans; and humans with their short life spans rarely pass on generations of knowledge, so I knew I would have to do this on my own), I booked a passage that brought me near one of the known cave entrances to the Underdark.

Firsthand experience is a brutal teacher at times; but I learned to survive and live and even thrive in the Underdark for two years. I learned about the Drow, the Illithid, and the Beholders that dominated the majority of the Underdark. More importantly, I learned that the information the Royal Council had obtained was true – the Drow had found some ancient artifact that had been buried for centuries – and it was somehow tied to the goddess, Lloth.

Whatever it was, it was no longer – at least currently – in the Underdark. From what I have pieced together, the Drow have brought it to the surface world and moving it to a new, secret base, to be used for some ancient ritual. Now I need to find out where this new place is and stop whatever this ritual is. The good news is, the Ritual requires “Darkness Overpowering The Light” which I assume to be an Eclipse, so that the Drow can stand on the Surface World to complete the Ritual.

I don’t know enough about Faerûn, so I will need to enlist servants – or companions as this world seems to call them – to help me piece together the information I’ve gathered about the Artifact and the Ritual.

Waterdeep; where I first landed, had several less than savory establishments that seemed to attract the “adventurous” type, I should begin there…

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=437

dragonearth;24122871 wrote:I have another character that I don't know what to do with
He is a Fallen Aasimar named Zaelox.
He is a high level Paladin of Conquest along with Hex blade Warlock.

This was a quick little piece... finished this in about fifteen minutes!
I enjoyed the aspect of a Fallen Aasimar... and explaining how he was one kind of Paladin before...
And the reason he forgoes it... to become one of Conquest...
But not before getting some Warlock training in there... to make a pact with the Hexblade...
The character mentioned, who... "turns him"... in my head is an extremely powerful Hag from the Shadowfell...
Who I suspect will make future appearances in other people's origins... Because as I wrote this... I could see her story evolving in my head...
Anyway! Be honest! Tell me if you like it, hate it, loved it, what worked, what didn't!
Feedback only makes me stronger!
Enjoy!
============================================
How can you believe in the Gods when they allow travesties to exist? How can you kneel before a God and speak their name with reverence in your voice, as you wash the dirt from your hands, having just buried your own child who was brutally murdered?

My veins burn with Holy Fire, because I was born into this world blessed – or perhaps cursed – with a Celestial lineage.

I still remember the day the world changed. As a Holy Warrior, I proclaimed Eldath as my goddess. I fought wars in her name to restore peace to the world. Many saw this as a contradiction; the idea to fight in order to bring peace. But my entire life would be bound to contradictions.

It’d been a war where a band of Orcs known as the Red Eye Orcs had invaded a small, defenseless village. The Red Eye Orcs did not attack because they needed something, or for revenge against someone who had struck at them; the Red Eye Orcs were notoriously known for attacking for the sheer thrill of murder, mayhem and chaos. Most no longer even followed Gruumsh, because they despised the idea of being bound to any law or higher being.

We had been tracking this particular band of Red Eye Orcs, and they had stayed ahead of us, for days now – and in their path – the small hamlet of Evergreen, now a decimated, searing ember and ash of charred wood and the smell of flesh burning. The Red Eye Orcs knew that every village they attacked we would be forced to slow down and search for survivors; but the decimation of Evergreen made it evident that there would be no survivors to be found.

Inside one of the barns I found a mother, embracing her two children, probably around the ages of six and eight, and an infant, probably no older than several months.

And that’s when it happened.

I snapped.

The world went black, my fury, my anger, my pain, my frustration. This war for peace was useless.

I dropped my sword and shield and cursed Eldath, forsaking her and casting her blessing and her love from my soul.

That was when a woman behind me spoke. “What if I told you, I could help you get revenge. Your… bloodline… allows you to inherently pull at the sphere of magic… if adequately trained.”

“Who are you?” I growled. I glanced down at my shield and sword I had dropped, both with the symbol of a waterfall – the symbol of Eldath. I reached for the dagger in my boot instead, which was plain, simple, no markings.

“I have been known to have a thousand names, but you can call me Dylila,” she smiled, “and I can teach you how to wield magic. Rather than always being behind your enemy, I can teach you to channel the darkness and use it like vicious arrows.”

“Why would you do this?” I asked, staring at her.

“Why? Because, just as I have had a thousand names, I have also lived a thousand years, and while I have heard of a Paladin who forsakes their god, I’ve never seen one myself, before. That makes you interesting to me.”

In one fell swoop, I had lost my faith in my goddess, turned to what undoubtedly felt like darkness, and left my organization. No one else seemed to be able to see Dylila as she walked besides me, and I announced my resignation to the Captain of the Order.

Dylila taught me how to pull magic from the air and use it. One day, after years of practice, she asked me if I was ready for the next step. To forego a piece of who I am and bind it to her. I agreed and a pact was made of light and shadow, until the darkness washed over my soul. With this new ability, I was able to summon weapons from the very shadows.

I began forging a new sword and a new shield. On the shield, a careful etched symbol of a flaming sword pointing upward which was duplicated on the hilt of my blade. I embraced a new god, today, with this new power surging in me. I vowed my soul to Tempus, the God of War.

There was no peace that was ever going to exist in this world; only War.

And I was ready for the War awaiting me on the horizon.

Come what may.

I am shadow. I am light. I am angel. I am demon. I am peace. I am war.

I am whole.

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=438

Envoy;24122904 wrote: Name- Omen
Sex- N/A
Height- 6’3
Age- 14
Class- Rogue(Arcane Trickster)
Built-In Thieves Tools in fingers
Dex First, then Wisdom, then Con, then Strength, then Charisma, then Intelligence.
I dunno exact stats, I can come up with then though.
I want to do something with like tarot cards, or maybe just fortune telling in general. It’d be great if you could do this for my first character. I think she might be a court jester of some sort. Just go wild. Any details you are missing just ask.

So as I wrote yours... the idea that his memory might be sundered (like another one I wrote; notes in your origin)...
Began to spin ideas in my head... what if people were wiping out Warforged (who might have been created for a specific purpose or war, but once done, were "shutting them" down to repurpose them... perhaps illegally... a notion in my head... that there's an illegal trade of "reactivated" Warforged being traded on the black market...)
So... that ended up tying into another person's origin... and your desire for having it relate to Tarot cards allowed me to make yet another reference to another person's origin...
And all that allowed me to shape up the ability to make it a Rogue (Arcane Trickster) and a Court Jester... tied nicely together!
Had fun writing it - but let me know what YOU think!
Honest feedback! Like it? Love it? Hate it? Did it work for you? Did it not work?
Let me know!
Enjoy!
==============================================================
“We cannot let this one kill anyone,” it was the voice of a Halfling, and my first… memory. (1)

The Halfling in question was a male by the name of Humple Toespike. He was talking to another male Halfling named Purgo Hillside.

“Listen,” Purgo was saying, shaking his head, “we couldn’t have predicted the other… thing… would do what it did.”

“They’re called Warforge,” Humple said. “How can you forget that, considering we literally just bought this one to see if we can get it right this time.”

“Well, according to Sylleena, we should be good this time,” Purgo said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“You really believe in those fortune cards?” Humple asked.

“Ever since she met Maleeka al-Talar at Waterdeep,” Purgo sighed, “she’s been obsessed with those tarot cards. (2) And so far, she’s been right. She did warn us that something would go wrong if we tried to sneak into the Palace that night.”

“She also said that we should acquire another one of these Warforged, and equip it with Thieves Tools for its hands, just like the other one,” Humple pointed out. “Looks like we’re about to repeat history at this point.”

“Remember what Sylleena said? About the upright fool card – and how it meant new beginnings? And the Page of Cups being upright? And the upright Six of Pentacles? If everything she says those cards are saying is true… then,” Purgo looked at the Warforged then back to Humple, “our future is about to change drastically; for the better.”

“It had better!” Humple slumped in his chair. “We spent nearly eight hundred gold on this one. The other one we at least found in the river for free. What should we call this one?”

“Well, since we’re going by Sylleena’s cards, and we’re basing everything on the omens of the cards, I’d say Omen is a fitting name.”

“So we deliver Omen to the Castle’s Wizard, as a gift to guard the princess, from suffering the same fate as the prince. Then, Omen here grants us access to the castle every third night for us to sneak around and take a few things here and there, so it’s not noticeable that someone might be stealing from them. And Omen here, will be none the wiser.”


As promised, Omen was delivered to the mourning King, who had tragically lost his son several weeks ago. Omen was presented as a means to protect the Princess, Lady Galana. The King took the Warforged as a gift, after having the Wizard, a human named Thaydur Bloomfrost examine him. Both Humple and Purgo were worried that Thaydur might spot the Thieves Tools embedded into Omen’s hand, but after several long minutes, that seemed to pass like hours, Thaydur assured his King that Omen was not some form of trap.

Omen, whether from his previous creator – who he could not recall – or because of some malfunction, had developed a sense of humor while protecting Lady Galana. This pleased the King, hearing his daughter laugh helped ease the burden of losing his son. The King employed Omen to also become a Court Jester with his odd, robotic like sense of humor, which created dead pan humor and jokes, often horribly delivered, which made them quite funny.

When Omen was silent, standing vigilant guard over Lady Galana, his eyes watched Thaydur with intense curiosity and as the days passed, he found himself imitating Thaydur’s gestures, until he discovered he was able to manipulate some of the lower end spells Thaydur often used – such as Mage Hand and a few other cantrips.

Had he always been able to manipulate magic? Who was his creator before the Halflings purchased him?

And just as promised, every few days, Omen opened the back gate, near the stables, to allow Purgo and Humple access to the inside of the castle, where they would move silently and steal a ring or necklace or two and leave, unnoticed.

Omen continued to wonder… where had he come from? Why was he originally created?


1. The Halfling is making a reference to another character’s origin that I am loosely tying yours to. For more information on their origin, check out: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=383

2. The gypsy, Maleeka al-Talar is another of my creations, also first mentioned in another person’s background I wrote. For more, check out: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... stcount=34

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=454

Mythalidor;24124083 wrote:Okay, a character I've been trying to build forever, but never really knew his backstory.
Name: Ivellios Dlardrageth
Race: Elf: Shadar-Kai (reflavored as Fey'ri)
Class: Sorcerer: Dragon (reflavored as Demon)
Background: Noble
Backstory idea: He claims himself to be a Fey'ri and the last heir of House Dlardrageth, but there isn't any proof of it. He also claims to be Lawful Evil, but he is generally kind to those who are his "subjects".

I was not familiar with the Fey'ri so it took some research!
So giving credit where credit is due:
https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Fey%27ri
https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki ... lardrageth
https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Hellgate_Keep
All three of those were helped to write this!
This is being written more as a prequel to your character in my mind...
You could have fun with how I end it (or your DM can)...
But I figured from here, however it is your character escapes...
He either goes on to become a true noble or goes on a quest per the dream sequence...
As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts!
If you liked it, loved it, hated it - let me know!
Enjoy!
=======================================================

Magic has always come to me naturally.

Since I was young, one of my first memories, was being able to bend and shape the magical energy I felt coursing through my veins to do what I wanted it to do.

My bloodline has a dark history, however.

Thousands of generations ago, House Dlardrageth, a sun elf house of Cormanthor, and a proud and powerful family in ancient Arcorar, gave themselves to demons, courting incubi and succubi, in an attempt to strengthen their line to gain the power necessary to seize the throne and rebuild the ruin of Aryvandaar.

My own bloodline traces to House Dlardrageth. I have no direct proof of this, but if the changes in my body are any indication, and my natural ability to shape magic, are indications. I am a Ar-tel-quessir - or the common term, Sun Elf - by any outward appearance; until I cease hiding who I am. My barbed tail, small horns on my forehead and my fanged teeth show every indication that somewhere in my bloodline, either a Succubi or Incubi had direct contact.

In an attempt to discover more about my bloodline and verify that I am from House Dlardrageth, I traveled to Myth Drannor and took over the once abandoned Dlardrageth tower. While I was there, I found an ancient parchment, beautifully preserved with the last mention of House Dlardrageth was in relation to the Seven Citadels' War, which the house provoked, but they were found out soon after, being imprisoned beneath Ascalhorn.

This led me to High Forest, where Ascalhorn – now called Hellgate Keep – resided, protected by the ancient and powerful treant, Turlang. Moving slowly through High Forest, I was able to avoid Turlang and his treants and entered the shattered remains of Hellgate Keep. The Harpers had destroyed the Keep years ago, leaving everything in ruins. Parchments were burned, weapons lie broken. It seemed I would never find any true evidence of my bloodline, until a gentle wind blew a charred book open and I kneeled down to read it. It seemed to be a diary of one of the workers of Ascalhorn… the pages inside the book were yellow with age. It was the diary of one of the women of Ascalhorn. I flipped through the pages over the course of several nights of staying in the shattered remains of Hellgate Keep, and discovered it was the diary of a doula. The last few pages describe how she helped with the birthing of a Fey’ri, and felt mercy in her heart and helped smuggle the child out.

This happened too long ago to be me…

But could it have been my father? My mother?

I slept that night inside Hellgates Keep and had a dream of a beautiful woman, her shimmering image hovering above me. She was the most beautiful woman I had seen… but I could see her horns, her wings, her tail. She was a succubus.

“My name is Máthair,” she explained, “I can sense my bloodline in you. Seek out Luigh… And uncover the truth… and reclaim the House…”

I woke up with a gasp and a massive Treant standing over me.

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=455

AH0098;24117391 wrote: I do not wish for you to run out of inspiration, so I have to just keep working more people for you to write about.
1st

Name: Blíldr Eilmyar
Race: Wood Elf
Gender: Make
Class: Ranger
Background: Soldier
Personality: I bluntly say what other people are hinting or hiding. My favor, once lost, is lost forever. The best way to get me to do something is to tell me I can't do it. I judge people by their actions, not their words.
Ideals: Greater Good. Our lot is to lay down our lives in defense of others. No Limits. Nothing should fetter the infinite possibility inherent in all existence. Obligation. It is my duty to protect my people.
Bonds: Everything I do is for my people and Myth Drannor. I have a family, but I have no idea where they are. One day, I hope to see them again. I protect those who cannot protect themselves.
Flaws: Evil fiends and the traitors who follow Lloth must be removed to protect all that is good.
Notes: Ranger in service to the Elven army that retook Myth Drannor. Lost his family when Myth Drannor fell.

Weird! So the previous character background in this thread (just before this one), I had a reference to Myth Drannor...
And I was positive the Tawmis-Verse was going to kick in and somehow tie the two together...
But as I wrote, it didn't happen... and it took a different turn!
As always, would love to hear feedback - good, bad, love it, hate it!
Enjoy!
=======================================================
The Great Retreat to Evermeet, when many Elves left Faerûn, Myth Drannor lost many of its defenders, leaving it open to attack. In 1346 DR, Alhoons - Mind Flayers who broke away from their circle of life, to become Liches - had consorted with the Church of Bane into opening a portal that allowed demons to gain entrance.

The Demons tore through those that had remained in Myth Drannor, killing everyone they had come in contact with and among the dead, my entire family; my mother, my father, my two sisters, and my younger brother.

I only survived because I was not in Myth Drannor when the attack happened. Early on, I had taken up to defending the woods, and at the time had been in Shadowdale.

Realizing that the Church of Bane had been manipulated, they placed wards that prevented the demons from escaping and put out word that there were great treasures to be had, in hopes of luring adventurers. It had worked, but the unprepared adventurers typically met gruesome deaths at the hands of the growing number of fiends now trapped. This is how I learned of the fate of Myth Drannor. When I urgently returned to Myth Drannor to see if the rumors had been true, my greatest fear had been confirmed.

I joined a small organization that earned the name The Knights of Myth Drannor and gained entrance into the city and we were able to permanently close the gate. Fighting off demons that remained, when the majority of them had been cleared, I rushed to my home, and was greeted by the stench of death. My family had been murdered by the demons. But not simply murdered, but their bodies torn and ripped apart. There was so much blood, and the bodies torn apart so badly, I could not even confirm that everyone in my family could be accounted for. But there was no way anyone could have survived this bloodshed. Fury consumed my soul and I left the Knights of Myth Drannor and ran blindly into the woods. For years, I was nothing more than a raving madman, so deeply driven by grief and despair.

One starless night as I cupped water into my hands from a small lake I felt a beautiful, calming presence, and instantly saw the shimmering reflection on the water. I spit out my water and fell backwards.

It was a Unicorn, whose soft, wispy mane blew in a non-existent breeze. Soft, blue-green eyes looked at me, sorrowfully, as a magnificent silver horn protruded from its forehead, like a powerful sword.

“You’ve lost your way, Ranger,” I heard her soft voice both in my head and heart.

“I’ve lost everything,” I could feel my eyes burn with tears. The very presence of the magnificent unicorn was forcing me to face every emotion that pounded through my heart. I could see the loss of my family, their bodies ripped asunder, as if it had just happened a moment ago.

“You still have your life, Ranger,” she spoke.

“What is this life though?” I asked, holding up my hands. “What is it worth if I am to suffer so greatly? To lose so much? My mother, my father, my sisters, my brother… all gone.”

“And you would have been lost as well, Ranger,” she said.

“Perhaps for the better!” I barked back, “So that I would not have to live with the pain and guilt of surviving… of not being there when they needed me most.”

“Your presence would have made no difference, Ranger,” she said. “Your skill is great, but it would not have been enough to save your family. Your survival of this tragic event is with purpose.”

“What possible purpose could there be?” I growled.

“To find your youngest sister, Ranger,” the Unicorn replied, matter-of-factly.

“She’s dead!”

“No,” the Unicorn corrected me. “Mair is very much alive.”

“What? How?” I asked, standing on my feet.

“Mair had been fetching water near the river when the demons appeared,” the Unicorn explained. “One had clawed her across the chest and she fell into the river, being washed further down the river. The demon had left her for dead, seeing the river run red with her blood. And she would have died, had it not been for the Druids of Dóchas who found her and healed her.”

“Where can I find these Druids of Dóchas?” I asked, gathering my weapons, my wits and my mind.

“The demons came for them and they were forced to teleport through the Feywild to escape,” the Unicorn explained. “Where they are now, I do not know. Once they left my woods, I could no longer see them. But Mair was with them when they escaped.”

“I will find them,” I said, using water to splash on my face, and run through my hair.

When I looked up, the Unicorn was gone.

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=456

AH0098;24117391 wrote: I do not wish for you to run out of inspiration, so I have to just keep working more people for you to write about.
2nd
Name: Rain of Fall (Rain) The Awakening Mist Clan
Race: Tabaxi
Gender: Female
Class: Monk
Background: Far Traveler
Personality: I judge people by their actions, not their words. There's nothing I like more than a good mystery. I never pass up a friendly wager. I ask a lot of questions. I am curious about everything.
Ideals: Free Thinking. Inquiry and curiosity are the pillars of progress. Greater Good. It is each person's responsibility to make the most happiness for the whole tribe. Logic. Emotions must not cloud our logical thinking. Fairness. We all do the work, so we all share in the rewards.
Bonds: A powerful person killed someone I love. Some day soon, I'll have my revenge. I will get revenge on the evil forces that destroyed my home and ruined my life.
Flaws: I’ve lost the love of my life, and searching to save his soul.
Notes: Travelled to a big city from Chult. She is searching for a way to revive her mate due to the death curse and her temple being over run.
I hope you enjoy them. If someone knew posts, you're always welcome to bump me back, I'm never in a rush. I hope you get the inspiration to become published because you are really good at writing. I can see the stories play out as I read them.

This was a lot of fun to write...
And way too easy not to tie into a previous character origin that dealt with Tabaxi!
The ONLY part I did not manage to squeeze in that you mentioned was the temple being over run...
However, that could easily be fit in, that while with the humans (Waterdeep) she gets word that the Pterafolk (in retribution to the attacks by the Tabaxi upon Freyathye's arrival), ended up swarming over her temple as well. I wanted to leave that open, since I couldn't find an easy way to squeeze it in.
As always, looking forward to hearing your thoughts!
Enjoy!
==================================================

I had known Gadaí all of my life, as far back as I can remember. He was brutish in his youth, but as we grew closer together, I learned he had been that way in hopes of impressing me. As the years pressed on, we grew closer and closer, and eventually entered a romantic relationship. Even then, he did not change much. He was always looking for the next challenge, while I sought peace and tranquility. It was perhaps the perfect example of how opposites attract.

Gadaí had asked for my hand in Pósadh – the celebration of mating for life, and per Tabaxi tradition in the Awakening Mist Clan, the male would need to present the father of the female, a wondrous item in “exchange” for what the father values in their daughter. To present something of little value had meant you thought little of their daughter.

Gadaí had heard that the elusive, and very dangerous, Pterafolk had something of great value; but he had not told anyone of his mission. Gadaí traveled across Chult, where we lived and located where the Pterafolk dwelled in the mountains. Gadaí climbed the mountain, undetected and reached the top where he had snuck into a cavern and saw an unusual, three faced statue; one with a face scolding, one with a face smiling, and one with a face with no expression. Suddenly, without warning – the scolding face eyes lit up – lighting up the entire cavern which was full of Pterafolk who were very aware of his presence. It had been a trap! Gadaí had fought against the Pterafolk ambush, but they had been too many of them and he was taken before a pit where one of the rare Pterafolk capable of using magic began chanting before slitting Gadaí’s throat.

I awoke with a scream, having seen it all in a dream; and there, hovering over my bed, a shimmering image of Gadaí, holding his throat, whispering, “They have ensnared my soul within the statue… find a way to free me from this curse…”

When I approached our chieftess, Freyathye, in regards to the vision I had seen, she calmly placed her hand on my shoulder. “We do not have the magic to free Gadaí from the curse that has befallen his soul. Nor do we have what it takes to do an assault on the Pterafolk who live so high in the mountains. They would pick us off as we tried to ascend their peaks.”

“So you are saying we leave Gadaí’s soul enslaved?”

“No,” Freyathye smiled, her whiskers coming up as she smiled. “Mainlanders have made landfall on the shore not so far from here. I have sent an agent to greet them, as they do not appear to be malicious. These would not be the first mainlanders to come to Chult. Our island is full of things that mainlanders seek.”

I waited patiently for her agent to return. Her agent, a Tabaxi named Gníomhaire cast a side glance at me, then to Freyathye. Freyathye nodded. “The mainlanders seek ores from Chult,” he explained, rubbing his grey, fur down.

Freyathye turned and smiled at me. “Ore,” she smiled, “I know exactly where ample amounts of ore can be found. The Peaks of Flame.”

“But that’s where the Pterafolk dwell,” Gníomhaire said, his ears going back slightly.

“Yes,” Freyathye smiled, “yes it is. Gníomhaire, lead them to the edge of The Peaks of Flame and explain that is as far as you are permitted to go. Warn the humans about the Pterafolk so that they are aware and prepared for a fight.”

Gníomhaire bowed, “As you wish, my chieftess.” And with that, excused himself.

“With any luck, the mainlanders can dwindle down the numbers of the Pterafolk,” Freyathye smiled.

Several days later, Gníomhaire returned and reported to Freyathye and myself that the Mainlanders had fought with the Pterafolk, but did not get far up the mountain before being forced to turn around. He also explained that the one who had sent the men had wished to speak with Freyathye back on the mainland.

Freyathye agreed, much to my surprise, putting her daughter, Iníon, in charge. Freyathye looked at me, and said, “You will come with me.”

Together, we sailed aboard “Sunset Cutter” back to Waterdeep where we met with a human Fenryn. His home was magnificent, his wife, another human, exceptionally kind, but once business about the ore had started his wife had disappeared.

“Some of my men,” Fenryn said, pacing back and forth in the study, “feel as if they were led into a trap.”

“Not so,” Freyathye smiled calmly. “My most trusted agent, Gníomhaire warned them about the dangers of the Pterafolk. Truth of the matter is, the Pterafolk leave us alone as we leave them alone. To go against them would trigger a war between our kind, which is why Gníomhaire could only lead your people to the base of the mountain and not be seen with your kind.”

Suddenly Freyathye turned her head. “Someone is listening.” Fenryn turned and saw his daughter peering down between the staircase railings. “It would seem our discussions have awakened your daughter.”

Fenryn flushed with embarrassment. “My apologies, Freyathye. It is my daughter. And she is a rather inquisitive child. Allow me a moment to put her to bed.”

Aithe could not take her eyes off the feline creature. Freyathye smiled, “She seems rather enamored.”

“She’s never seen a Tabaxi,” Aithe’s father smiled.

“Well, we cannot send her off to bed without meeting one then,” Freyathye smiled. The Tabaxi approached Aithe, who while initially enchanted by the sight of the Tabaxi, was now gripped with fear when she saw the Tabaxi’s rippling leg muscles and long claws. Freyathye retracted her claws, “My apologies, when I heard a sound I extended my claws. My name is Freyathye.”

Aithe extended her hand, “Mine is Aithe. Aithe Darante.”

“The honor,” the Freyathye bowed, “is all mine. Perhaps one day we will meet again, little one?”

Fenryn rushed Aithe up the stairs and into her room. He looked at her and wanted to say something about interrupting a sensitive meeting; but he realized her interruption had sundered the rapidly building tension and reset everyone’s mood, so he was, in truth, thankful for the interruption.

When Fenryn returned, Freyathye smiled. “It is long past we drive the Pterafolk from the peak. They have been a bane to our kind for centuries.”

Fenryn was pleasantly surprised by the sudden change of heart.

“I ask for one thing,” Freyathye said. “My companion, Rain,” she pointed to me, “lost someone against the Pterafolk. A curse has been invoked upon someone she loved. You are wealthy, I see, and have unlimited resources. I ask, in exchange for us helping your men against the Pterafolk, that you assist Rain in finding a way to break the curse that her lover now suffers.”

Fenryn agreed, “My resources are at her command, Chieftess Freyathye!”

She turned and smiled to me.

“The mainlanders have volumes of books on magic, and eager adventurers,” she whispered. “Find a way to restore Gadaí.”

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=462

AH0098;24137689 wrote:Just wow, adding the Knights of Myth Drannor to his history and the part about his sister. Just amazing as always. Connecting Rain to Aithe's history is a stroke of genius. The only small thing is Aithe is from Halruaa, but that's a tiny thing especially considering how many histories and back stories you've written, and that's not even considering your time limit.
Your work is amazing, you I still think you should work on formal writing, you can out together some compelling stories.

Thank you! And good catch about Aithe!
And thank you for the words of encouragement for formal writing!
To be honest, I have written many stories (most in various states of being unfinished) - but with the release of 5th Edition, it's been so wonderful creating adventures for the party I DM for - and having that immediate response to the adventures! (Similar to writing these back stories!) There's that "immediate" gratification. One day, I hope to finish the one story (I mentioned previously in this thread). I just don't know when that "one day" will be.

And speaking of DMing - so one of my players (Jessica), her brother plays D&D with some of his friends (some are not local, so they they have some connect through Skype). Well, their DM's wife is about to have a baby, so he's stepping down (for a bit) and Jessica pumped me up as this wonderful DM - so he asked her to ask me if I would "fill in" for their game. Well they're doing a module (which I don't have), but currently in a village (where they left off) - so I said, I could do it - and rather than purchase the module and move their game forward without the DM (I don't want to step on any toes), I said I could come up with a series of "side quests" for the party to do from that village - so when the DM returns, they're still in that village, and the DM can just resume naturally. So they're all for it. Jessica then asked, if she could join her brother's game, since I am going to DM for their game; and they agreed. She's still new to D&D (only been playing a year, with me as a DM) and rolled up a Half-Elf Warlock (patron Unicorn, her choice; and familiar as a pseudodragon). Since it's for a fill in (for who knows how long), I wasn't too concerned if the familiar is too powerful; I decided to roll with it. She then asked me to write a background. My own game is in a homebrew world I made up; but I assume her brother's game is based on Forgotten Realms, since they're doing a published module... that said, this is what I came up with...
===========================================
The sound of an infant crying rang through the silent woods, drawing the attention of some of the more mysterious residents of the Cormanthor Forest, including Pixies and Sprites who looked at each other quizzically as the infant continued to cry. There was no sign of the infant’s mother or father nearby.

“She is doomed to die,” came a mystical voice behind the gathered fey, who jumped and were startled by the presence of the creature who spoke.

“Draíocht,” one of the Pixies looked at the magnificent unicorn, whose soft purple eyes gazed down at the infant, “you would allow this innocent infant to perish?”

Draíocht, the unicorn, whose main blew gently in the wind, looking as if it were made of wispy clouds simply said, “Her parents have abandoned her. They care nothing for her. Why should we?”

“She is but an infant,” Beag, the small, female Pixie pleaded. “She’s done no wrong in this world.”

“Human blood courses through her veins,” Draíocht said matter-of-factly. “By their very nature alone, humans are often more trouble than orcs and goblins, because we repeatedly trust them, simply to be betrayed again and again.”

“But!” Beag exclaimed, pulling black the blanket around the infant’s head, “Elf blood courses through her veins too, see her ears?”

Draíocht nudged the infant with her white nose. “What am I to do with a child? How can I care for one? None of you can. You would get bored or lose interest or grow frustrated once the infant began crying.”

“The Feywild,” Beag offered. “Take her to the Feywild.”

“The Feywild,” Draíocht seemed to laugh at the notion. “And what?”

“The Satyrs and the like could raise her,” Beag suggested, fluttering her wings proudly.

“The Satyrs,” if Unicorns could laugh, Draíocht would have done so. “You have been away from the Feywild too long. The Satyrs would simply sing and dance and forget to tend to the infant.” There was a long pause before Draíocht finally said, “But I see if I do not help tend to this child, all of you will never forgive me. I will take this infant to the Feywild.”

The child, named Galiena Erenaeth, meaning “lost child of the woodlands” was brought to the Feywild. Brought before the Dryad, Álainn, Galiena was left to her care. Almost immediately, a Pseudodragon named Dearbhán took immediate interest in the infant, cuddling on top of her as if she were a sleeping bed. Álainn did not discourage Dearbhán’s behavior. As Galiena grew older, the Fey of the Feywild took interest in her, teaching her things about the Feywild, as well as the world where she had originally come from, filling her mind with endless wisdom; all the while she and Dearbhán grew closer and closer, until they had become inseparable.

Sixteen years growing up in the Feywild had exposed her to magic. Seeking to learn how to wield such powers drew some concern from the Feywild; as they’ve seen too many times, where humans with powerful magic had used it for darkness. Though a Half-Elf, the human side of her blood had always been a concern.

Álainn who had been taking care of her called upon Draíocht, the mystical and powerful Unicorn who protected the Dalelands and explained Galiena’s interest in magic, and expressed her concern for the young child learning such power.

Draíocht, who had been secretly checking on Galiena almost daily since leaving her in the Feywild with Álainn did not share the Dryad’s concern. If anything, like Dearbhán, the Pseudodragon, Galiena had grown on Draíocht.

The magnificent beast approached her and explained that he could bond with her and unlock magic that coursed in her veins; but there would be a cost. The secret of the magic within her and the process of the bond would bind her soul to Draíocht, which meant that if Draíocht needed her, she would be forced to answer her patron’s calls.

Galiena agreed.

The process had been unexpectedly painful. With a cut from Draíocht’s horn, their blood and souls bound to one another in a magical, mystical, process that left Galiena on the ground vomiting wildly for hours. When she was finally able to regain her composure, Draíocht explained as a part of the process, in the presence of great evil that threatened nature, or was unnatural, Galiena’s eyes would glow a soft, purple hue, similar to Draíocht’s own eyes. Draíocht also offered her a main of his wispy white hair to tie to her quarterstaff. The strand of hair would always allow Draíocht to know where she was, no matter what plane of existence she was on.

Galiena explained that she wanted to return back to Faerûn and see if she could find out why she had been abandoned by her parents. Had they been killed? Was she abandoned for another reason? It had been something that chewed at her soul since she had learned the truth.

Draíocht smiled, and with a nod of his magnificent main, had teleported her back to Faerûn…

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=467

rocketguy2;24135316 wrote:Name: Stonewall
Race: Envoy Warforged
Class: Druid
Background: Outlander (Kinda)
Built in tool: Herbalism Kit
Alignment: True Neutral

Backstory stuff: Originally made for a war between gnomes (the makers) and dwarves, was abandoned half way through creation, as the war was finished. Essentially just dumped into the sea and forgotten about. Eventually washed up on a forest, where they recreated them self out of the wood and stones of the forest. Essentially came across no life with an intelligence score above 3, and definitely didn't have any meaningful conversation with them. The tool that built in to them was added during his reconstruction, it was initially something that seemed like it was used for the creation of magical items, but it wasn't functioning, and was replaced with the herbalism kit. Is unaware of the meaning of his creation, but intrinsically knows dwarvern and gnomish, alongside common. They don't know why this is the case, but also don't really care. Has never killed, but has no qualms about it. Their reconstruction takes approximately 10-20 years, and once it is finished, they leave to wander the world, which is when the campaign starts. Other stuff: I'm not exactly sure how wild shape will work, considering the whole "android and has no gender" thing, but that's an issue for second level stonewall. Starts the campaign with Douse and Produce Flame as cantrips, and Absorb Elements, Cure Wounds, Healing Word and Ice Knife prepared. Outlander isn't really the correct background for them, but I played as a hermit last campaign and want something that's at least moderately different

I admit, there's been a delay in me getting to these due to a few things...
My own D&D game, I DM for, celebrated one year of gaming together. This was epic, because other than myself (whose been playing D&D since like 1976!), Anita who got the group together (and she'd played only a few times previously in the month before), discovered I was a DM and asked me to DM for a group of her friends that had never played D&D but always wanted to. So Anita, Melinda, Jessica, Dave, Albert, and Amy (and eventually Jessica's husband Brad) gathered around a table, rolled up characters, I wrote their backstories - and the adventures of D&D began. Honestly, I thought it wouldn't last more than a few sessions - but each time, they returned hungry for more! The crazy part is Anita was the connection between all of us - and most didn't know one another - they simply knew Anita - and as the game progressed, we all rapidly became extremely close friends! The magic of D&D is amazing! You can check out the video I made of the photos I've taken over the year of playing:

[/url]


The other distraction is that Gears of War 5 came out, and that entire franchise is like my drug. I normally can't stand the pow pow pew pew kind of games. But I am obsessed with Gears of War. So I've been playing that.
And the other thing is - work has been utterly insane (usually I am able to knock one or two out during lunch) - these days I am needing to step away from my desk.
All of that said...
I did manage to get most of what you wanted into this background (taking a break from GoW5)...
As always, please let me know what you think! Good, bad, love it, hate it, let me know!
Enjoy!
==============================================================

Second chances.

Rarely are we ever given them. I suppose for someone – something – like me a second, even a third or fourth chance could be granted.

You see, I am not like the Squirrels and Deer and Beavers that I’ve found on this island. I am not alive in the same sense that they are. I have pieces – puzzles to a past that come and go in flashes – of when I fought in a fantastic war.

The reasons for this war, I can scarcely remember.

I do know that several months ago, there was a flash – a bolt of lightning that had struck near where I had washed up on this island. The electricity that coursed through the ground, and through my body, as I lay in a shallow pool of water, energized me and “awoke” me from my slumber.

Before being electrocuted back to life, in my “slumber” I could recall hearing things; feeling things, but there was nothing I could do. It’s similar to what mortals called “paralysis.” I recall my creators saying that there was no more use for me and had “deactivated me” sending me into this paralytic slumber. I recall being put on a ship to be sold, but the ship fell victim to a violent storm. I remember hearing the wood snapping, the rain pounding, and then sinking. In my paralytic slumber I could no longer feel the sun’s warmth; I know not if days, weeks, months or even years, passed before I washed ashore onto this island. I remember on the island, I could feel the sun again; and in my slumber could count the days that went by until a similar storm came and struck the island’s beach, awakening me again.

My flesh, or whatever you might call it, had been severely damaged over time, especially submerged in the sea. I used the wood and stones I found on the island to reconstruct my flesh and armor. I searched the small island for any signs of intelligent life, but the entire island – as small as it was – seemed to be only populated by animals.

This forced me to try and communicate with these animals since they were the only ones on the island. Even that proved to be difficult because my size and shape sent them scurrying away into the underbrush. I realized that I would need to look more like them; so I put in the effort to behave as they did. If they were on four legs, I went down on two legs and two hands. I realized my body was malleable and that perhaps, with some practice, I could even perhaps change my shape to look like one of them.

As I continued to explore the island, I found what appears to have been an abandoned village at the top of a mountain that over looked the ocean. A magnificent horse creature with the lower half a fish body, statue pointed directly north to the ocean. As I began to study the abandoned village and statue, this seemed to be a place of worship at one time. To add to the mystery, many of the items found seemed to be things from deep below the ocean’s surface. Ancient scripture that I did not recognize lined the base of the statue, as well as some of the walls inside the village.

As I was observing the statue, trying to decipher the runes, I spotted an approaching vessel. Making my way down the mountain and to the beach, I signaled the vessel with the use of fire. As I boarded the ship, being rescued from the island, and sailed away, I cast one last glance back at the island, and it seemed that I saw the eyes of the statue flicker in the setting sun’s light.

I turned around and faced forward, wondering where my new adventure would take me next.

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=468

Whit;24125919 wrote: If you have time. And any of these tickle your story thoughts.
1. Drugar Ironguard. Dwarf warrior (Eldritch Knight) turned his back on protecting a dwarven spellcaster during a battle after learning a terrible secret.
2. Alethia De’fore half elf female prisoner. Escapes the drow only to stumble upon an ancient tomb shrouded in shadow. Alethia either shadow sorcerer or hexblade.
3. Kin Risha the drow whisper bard. Can she subtly convince others that the fall of the Drow has been manipulated by the high elves all along?

I am going to try something a little interesting with your three submissions…
You will probably quickly see what I did… And naturally, I would love to hear your thoughts.

=====================

My name is Alethia De’fore, and I have spent a life time trying to piece myself together. I am a Half-Elf, who as an infant, was found abandoned outside a cave. A small band of travelers seeking shelter from the coming rain storm had headed for the mountains and found me and took me in. Fortunately, one of the women, a human named Ryastone Everfall, had just had a child of her own not long ago, so she was able to breast feed me and keep me alive. Her husband, also a human, named Piotor Everfall had provided me food and furs, and together they adopted me into their family.

Throughout my teenage years, I never even considered that I looked different. The way my eyes had a slight slant, the way my ears were more pointed that my brother and sister. When I was old enough to be told the truth, I can’t explain it, but I felt betrayed. Hurt. Even though the Everfall family had nothing to do with abandoning me as an infant, I somehow misplaced my anger in them. That night I ran away; and since that night had been trying to find out who my parents were.

I had fallen in with a Thieves guild known as “The Undercurrent.” They had several mages working for them (providing a trade of service; to either steal magical items for them; or so that the Thieves could turn to the mages to get magical items identified). One of the Mages, a Half-Elf like myself, was able to find documentation from a female human that claimed she had escaped the clutches of the Drow, but that she lost her child as she escaped (forcing to leave her infant behind; which, she had been impregnated by a Drow). When I went to find this woman, I learned that she had returned to the caves to see if she could recover the infant. That was exactly eighteen years ago. My same age. I thanked the Half-Elf and returned to where the Drow cave entrance was supposedly and made my way down into the darkness. The further down I went the stranger things got; there were mushrooms taller than me; plants whose illumination pierced the darkness; I even encountered talking mushrooms of some kind that warned me to turn back; that they were guardians of a sinister secret down below. Still I pressed on, and soon found myself falling down a slippery slope for almost an hour, coming to a full stop in complete darkness. Thankfully, one of my torches also made its way down the slope and when I ignited it, I stood before a massive dark statue of what appeared to be a female elf, holding a wolf’s head before her. The statue stood nearly thirty feet tall and was composed of some form of metal or stone that was so completely black that it even seemed to absorb the light of my torch.

As soon as I ran my hand across it, my eyes rolled to the back of my head as I felt my life ebb away.

I was suddenly floating in the ethereal of complete darkness; there was no solid ground beneath me, above me, beside me, nothing. Crimson eyes suddenly appeared in the darkness. “You seek your mother,” a female voice boomed, echoing all around me, in deafening volumes.

“Who are you?” I stammered.

“Ellatorn Brokemane,” the voice boomed. “My soul is trapped in the Shadowfell. However, I can see everything. I can even see your mother.”

“She’s alive?”

“I did not say that, I merely said, I can see your mother. Bind your soul to me, become my weapon, and share your light with me, so that I can once again return to Faerûn.”

“You can show me my mother? What of my father? Is he truly a Drow?”

“Oh, he is indeed a Drow, and your mother a human.”

“Show him to me,” I said, “and my soul is yours.”

A vision appeared before me of a handsome Drow elf, with charcoal black skin and violet colored eyes.

Suddenly I felt as if I was being thrown back into my body.

My name is Kin Risha. I have spent my life manipulating people. I found I was quite skilled with telling lies and stories that others quickly believed. My mother sought to curb the behavior since such skills were not welcomed among the Drow community. It’s true, I am full blooded Drow. My people, my clan, were involved in a war that last several hundred years against The High Elves. As it turns out, a High Elf Priestess by the name of Ellatorn Brokenmane led her people into the caves to finally be rid of us. However, just as my people were about to win the war, Ellatorn turned to the darkest of magics, and resorted to Necromancy. She called upon an Evil God, and rose her people up from the dead. With no way to kill what is already dead, hundreds of my people were killed, before Ellatorn was finally stopped and captured. Rather than execute her, as we should have, we called upon our goddess, Lolth, to banish her soul to the Shadowfell, where her tainted soul will forever be corrupted by the darkness.

Her body was buried just outside of our home, a giant statue erected as a warning. In her hand, a wolf head; not as a symbol that she had killed a wolf, but that she was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. She had led her people, who believed in Light and Hope, and in that moment of desperation, was willing to sacrifice their souls to win the war. Now, I visit the statue, because the hatred I feel seeping from the statue inspires me to spin songs and stories about those of my people who died against a woman who was willing to sacrifice her people and her soul to win a fight, and still lose in the end.

Usually I arrive and sit there, and get inspired. But tonight something was different. I did not feel the same amount of soothing hatred, and that’s when I find an unconscious half-elf woman. I immediately tie her up and awaken her.

“What are you doing way down here?” I barked.

“My name is Alethia De’fore,” the Half-elf woman replied. “I am looking for my mother and father.”

“They’re not down here,” I sneered. “You’ve gotten yourself into trouble.”

“Look at me,” she said, “my skin! I am like you!”

“You’re nothing like me, cross breed,” I barked back. “I can smell the human on you.”

“It’s true, I am part human, but my father was a Drow, like you,” she snapped back.

“A Drow?” I titled her head back and laughed. “No Drow would lay with a human.”

“Not even if he had a slave,” she asked.

Now I was forced to be quiet. There had been some Drow who took pleasure in abusing their slaves; even sexually. “What’s your father’s name?”

The woman seemed to close her eyes and be muttering to someone as if an unseen ghost were nearby. She finally opened her eyes and said, “Scáth Risha.”

I dropped my lute. “You lie.”

“I swear it’s true,” she replied. “Do you know him?”

“He’s my father,” I growled. “Are you reading my mind?”

“No, I swear it. He had a human slave, who escaped eighteen years ago. She came back just recently looking for me. I need to see him. Or my mother. Please.”

Just as I was debating what to do with her, I heard my brother shouting, “Kin! It’s the Dwarves! They’re attacking again!”

My name is Drugar Ironguard, and I have protected my brother Bauren Ironguard all of his life. When we were born, I was born to fight. My older brother was born, thinner, frailer, and had no passion for weapons or forging. He brought, sadly, dishonor to our family clan until I came along. He spent his life studying the way of magic and how it worked, even as I studied how to shape metal and understand how it worked. He would show me a new spell he’s learned, I would show him a new weapon I had forged. But because he was my brother, I took an interest in his hobbies to better understand him, and I too began to learn to use magic. While nowhere near as good as my brother, I learned a good spell or two. My brother, one day, vanished for almost three years, and returned far more powerful than I could have imagined.

The great dishonor that he had brought on our family in his youth was immediately washed away. In our constant battle with the Drow Elves who have been a constant threat and enemy, he led became far more passionate about putting an end to them. My brother became one of the most trusted confidants to our King, King Stonebroke. He devised a plan to finally be rid of the Drow elves; and while he had the King’s ear, I was one of the King’s most trusted Warriors. I was never one to back down from a fight; as a matter of fact, I had spent most of my earlier years defending my brother from those who sought to hurt him; but this new vigor that my brother had for fighting… for war… was unsettling.

When we launched our attack against the Drow, a plan devised by my brother, that he assured King Stonebroke, would not fail because he had a “full proof plan” that he did not want to completely reveal in the event there were spies in his court.

It was no surprise, within hours, covered in blood; I could see the tide of the battle was turning against us. The Drow were capable Magic Users, something my kind rarely had stock in – except for my brother, who was standing in the front of the battle with bolts of energy and arrows barely missing him. I made my way to him and called for a retreat, but my brother demanded everyone to stand their ground.

And then I saw his master plan. He was raising the dead to fight for us. Not only Dwarves, but he was raising the Drow to fight against their own kind. I shouted to him to stop, but he could no longer hear me. In his madness, he was lost to the darkness, just like Ellatorn Brokenmane had been many years ago. Our family, after the war, which we were still forced to retreat from, had been spurned and forced away from our homes. My brother was lost somewhere in the battle. I don’t know if he lived or died.


My name is Kin Risha, and I have a Half-Elf prisoner named Alethia De’fore. My brother had warned me about the Dwarves attack – a fight we seemed to be winning until one of the Dwarves turned to Necromancy, and began raising the dead. I was cut off from my own people and forced to flee from the dead that were running rampant all over, killing Drow and Dwarf alike. I fled to the surface with my prisoner, assuming that death… or undeath… would claim my family below. Even from the surface cave, I swear I could still hear their screams…

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=469

Great Dragon;24120037 wrote: Quintin Aeteel
Standard Human.
Neutral Evil.

Criminal Background
Class Skills: Arcana and History.
Languages: Common, Draconic and Undercommon.
Trait: Cautious, but Curious.
Ideal: Power. I deserve to be treated like Royalty.
Bond: Loyalty works both ways.
Flaw: Humiliate others for their failures.
I don't make mistakes, I only have failed Experiments.

Grew up in Thay and learned that only through (magical) Power could he achieve his goals.
(2nd level) One day, upon returning from an Errand, he found his Master's Stone Tower burning.
Remaining hidden, he watched and waited to see if his Master escaped, but after six hours he concluded (correctly) that his Master was dead.
Forced to resort to surviving by any means necessary, he joined a Thieves Guild. But, only after six months, he was again forced to flee, this time from Thay itself.
But, this had more impact on him than his time in the Master's Tower, as he learned that there are other types of power, and he expanded his magical powers with new skills.
Joining the traveling Circus, he made his way to the Sword Coast (shinagines gets him to 3rd level: A gap you can have fun filling) and upon finding a small Keep Town (Twainsmeet) he decided to return to the goal of becoming an Archmage and returning to Thay in full Glory.
He quickly found and joined the local Bandit Band, and mostly respects their leader. (More info if needed)
In return for magical support, he gets first pick of magical items, especially Scrolls and Spellbooks. His personal Spellbook never leaves his person, but he does have a backup Spellbook. (Not sure where he would keep this)
Five years go by (have fun, here !)
(5th level) Now there's an Adventuring Group disrupting the business.
First meeting: The Dwarven Druid caused him to be unable to "retreat"; He managed to escape capture by the Paladin with Misty Step and Invisibility.
Latest meeting: Charms (spell) female Swashbuckler Rogue (Paladin retired. New PC that used to be the Paladin's "helper")
(Quintin is going to keep an "eye" on her.)
But, once again forced to flee from these "Heroes" during the Raiding attempt to capture 1,000 pounds of steel; he uses his Disguise Kit, enters the Keep and obtains both needed supplies and some information on the Party.
During the next two days: Finds 34 Bandit deserters, and recruits them as the beginning of his own Spy/enforcer Network.
New Alias: Albrek Underflow.
He starts seeking out every rumor about the locations of magical items.

So… if you look closely you might see what that first line is a clear reference to. Even better that I managed to end it with “dregs and depravity” (D&D… get it?)
This was fun to write... I felt like I was able to get in his headspace... I also left some "openings" for other things if you want to use them (a specific new resident in a specific tower)...
I wrote it with NO idea what you could do with it; just felt like an interesting spin (and also a chance to do another jab at our Bandit mage!)
As always, would love to hear feedback - whether you love it, hate it, whatever! Let me know!
Enjoy!
====================================================

Thay – you will never find a more deplorable swarm of dregs and depravity.

My name is Quintin Aeteel, and I am a human born into slavery. The “Nobles” of Thay, if they can even be called that, were Wizards, Sorcerers and Warlocks, all drawn here for the never ending thirst of arcane knowledge. Here in Thay, lawlessness and slavery were rampant, attracting the less favorable people of the world.

One day, while running an errand for my “Master” (who was graciously beginning to “teach me magic” by forcing me to run errands for him), I returned to see his Stone Tower burning. Honestly, it was not much of a surprise to see it burning. Kallious was a cruel and vicious Half-Elf, and not very well liked in Thay, because he rarely attended the meetings and thus never shared his magic secrets. More than once I heard wizards and mages pounding on his door, and Kallious would simply attack them with trivial spells to drive them away. I waited for the fire to simmer down – but Kallious’ tower was full of ancient tomes and parchments and wooden stairs. It took almost six hours for the fire to die down and not a single person came to his aid, which as I said, was not surprising. I was able to confirm what appeared to be Kallious’ body, burned to a crisp at the top of his tower, as if he had fled up the stairs to try and escape the fire. Why he had not teleported away was beyond me.

Now free of my “Master” but with no one to feed me (which, for all that Kallious did to me, he at least did feed me well and provide me a place to sleep), I turned to a thieves guild that operated throughout the continent known as “The Undercurrent” which is where Kallious had often sent me to fetch various magical items they found and would sell to him. As it turned out, some of Kallious’ enemies in Thay had me followed, and I had led them to The Undercurrent, which was then forced to flee, and I too, had to flee from Thay or suffer the same fate as Kallious.

I had met up with a traveling Circus who took interest in me being able to cast spells to draw in a crowd. I learned more magic from their Sages and Gypsies that I had only barely begun to dabble in with Kallious. The traveling Circus (“The Sunset Miracle”) eventually made it to the Swordcoast, where I had parted way. During my stay at the Swordcoast, I joined a Mage’s Guild, where magic was openly shared and those well versed in magic took the time to teach those who were newer. With this newly gained power and knowledge, I returned to Thay to destroy those who had murdered Kallious; not out of a sense of vengeance, but because I knew they would come for me. I tracked down each and every one of them, and forced them to confess, and explain who else had partaken in this. In total, I found, tracked down, and killed sixteen other Mages, by the time I was done. The people of Thay would respect me for my power and treat me as the Noble I should be treated as. I rebuild Kallious’ tower, where I discover, on full moons similar to the night he was murdered, his spirit walks the halls. He does nothing to me, and acts, just as he did in life, as if I didn’t exist. In a search for magical items, I re-establish my connection to The Undercurrent guild and begin a trade negotiation with them, taking over as the primary leader in Thay. I quickly amass a large number of mercenaries to not only protect me, but to protect The Undercurrent.

Apparently, those I had murdered, their kin took to leaking rumors of great magical possessions in my tower; and hired a group of would be heroes to find me and destroy me and take my possessions. A Dwarven Druid was among them, as well as a Paladin, but I am able to use my magic to escape. The spirit of Kallious seems completely unaffected and uninterested; and despite the Paladin’s best efforts, they are unable to banish Kallious’ spirit. The heroes seem bent on finding me and killing me, undoubtedly due to a reward placed by my enemies; and I find them again, interfering with my business, this time without the Paladin, but a Rogue is with them who… interests me.

I return to Thay and track down those who would have put this bounty on me, and in the process also discover some interesting information about this party who seeks to end me. I acquire a new batch of mercenaries and this time, I will use them to put an end to these heroes, and to better avoid detection I adopt the name Albrek Underflow.

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=471

kalebr;24141804 wrote:Hi,
Amazing work. Would love to see how you would build upon this. Thanks in advance.
Name: Kiiso
Race: Changeling (Though playing in Waterdeep)
Gender: "Female"
Age: 16
Class: Rogue 3 -> Monk 2 -> Wizard 3 -> Monk X
Background: Criminal
Personality: I am incredibly slow to trust.
Ideals: People. I'm loyal to my friends, not to any ideals, and everyone else can lake a trip down the Styx for all I care. (Neutral)
Bonds: I entered seclusion to hide from the ones who might still be hunting me. I must someday confront them.
Flaws: I will never fully trust anyone other than myself.
Some story beats I've thought of but certainly up for changing. The only thing that is required is this character and another player's character (Iroh) are going to start the game with a non romantic relationship. The other character is a fighter who just retired from the army and our characters meet under some circumstance that puts them into a symbiotic relationship.
Other thoughts:

• Daughter of noble woman and unknown father, exiled from the family at young age when changeling abilities were revealed. Assumes new identity and leaves birth family forever... maybe.
• Used changeling abilities to escape family and becomes orphan at a monastery.
• Was allowed to live in monastery, but never accepted. Learned to steal to survive, thus, rogue origin.
• Steals a book of ancient monk/arcane secrets. Cannot read book but studies it constantly. This will be the narrative for her multiclassing into monk and wizard.
• Eventually, encounters army Iroh and falls into the camp that follows the army. Lives as a barely surviving urchin until she and Iroh are brought together as he leaves the army.
• For context, Iroh is planned to be an older, honorable soldier. Modeled after Iroh from Avatar.

One last note. I intend to play up the INT requirement for Wizard and think of her as a very intelligent, but quiet and distrusting character. She'll have a close trust with Iroh and do anything to protect him, but others are kept at a distance as she tries to hide her changeling nature.

This was an interesting write up to do! I've never done a Changeling before... never played one, DMed for one, or wrote an origin for one!
There were perhaps a few small changes I made in the origin write up that, I thought, might spice things up and really drive home the point of why she is the way she is...
As always, I'd love to hear comments - good? Bad? Love it? Hate it? Let me know!
Enjoy!

PS: Keep an eye out for a specific movie reference! (Gears of War 5 was on my brain...)
===========================================

My name is Kiiso, and according to my mother, a noble woman, it means “to blend” in some ancient tongue she knew. My mother, a noble woman named Siola, gave birth to me, but kept the father a secret from everyone. This naturally generated countless rumors about my mother, and what affairs and men she had slept with. The secret also exiled her from her friends, who now began to suspect if perhaps my father might have been one of their spouses. My mother used to tell me that she was used to solitude. She even warned me that one day, I would grow accustomed to it as well, because she, like many animals in the wild, must one day let me go to discover who I am.

That day came when I was sixteen years old. One of the daughters of a woman who had once been a friend of my mother’s, assaulted me. She proclaimed that my mother is what caused her mother and father to fall apart. (This had not been the first time my mother was accused of this, because she would not reveal who my father was). However, this time, the human named Tiela, struck me so hard on the side of my head that my ears rang.

But that wasn’t all.

My eyes suddenly became colorless and my hair, pure white, drained of any color. My skin turned just as pale and white as my hair, and the girl screamed, “Witch!” I saw my mother, watching from the balcony as she turned away. She knew that her life here was over. They would come for her and that she would need to be on the move. She knew she could not take Kiiso with her, the child would only slow her down.

I knew then that my mother had been warning me all those years, because this moment was coming. Whether it was because Yurnteena had punched me in the head or some other trigger; the truth of not who I was, but what I was, would one day be revealed.

I fled into the forest and ran for my life. I feel as if I ran for days, crying, never stopping, hearing the voices and screams behind me, to catch me and burn me alive. I finally collapsed in the forest, so exhausted and breathing so heavy, I was certain death would come for me, because I could not catch my breath. Monks at a nearby monastery found me unconscious and brought me to their temple for my own safety.

I tried to tell them that they should have left me to die, but they refused to listen. When I tried to explain to Meiyo Senshi, what I was, he simply placed his finger on my lips, and with an accent I could not place, simply stated, “It does not matter who or what you are; the past is behind you, the present is today, now; and what will you be tomorrow, is what truly matters.”

Despite Meiyo Senshi’s kind words; the others in the Monastery seemed to know what I was, though I had hid from them, with but a thought, what I looked like. Only those who had found me knew my true appearance. Perhaps they had told others; whispers of how I was a ghost, spirit or witch of some kind. This led me to stealing from a nearby village in order to survive; whether it was food, clothes, and even a dagger. While I appreciated Meiyo Senshi’s kindness, the others in his monastery avoided me; which made reading up on them and their culture quite easy. One such book, that seemed to have arcane runes was too interesting to return and “accidentally” remained in my possession.

I spent weeks trying to decipher the book in the quiet of my own room, which Meiyo Senshi had assigned to me. By candlelight, day in and day out, I practiced the runes displayed on the pages, but without being able to read the words, could never seem to master whatever magic it is these people used. As I sat in the dark some nights, I reflected on my life. My father, whoever he was, abandoned me before I was born. My mother abandoned me when the truth of what I was, was revealed to the world. This made me slow to trust people, naturally. This has made me rely only on myself, and no one else.

When the Red Eye Orcs came and attacked the Monastery, it so happened to be that a group of warriors, from the same country as Meiyo Senshi had been visiting. The Warriors put up a vialant fight, but the Red Eye Orcs are known for their viciousness. When I had run back into the Monastery, since I had been at the lake, reflecting on life when the attack rang out, I knew I was putting my life at risk, but I could not leave the book behind. I managed to reach my room, stealth-fully avoiding the Red Eye Orcs, who were running through the Monastery slaughtering all who stood in their way. When I tried to turn and leave, one of the Red Eye Orcs was blocking my doorway. I quickly grabbed my dagger that had been sitting on the nightstand, but just then a sword pierced the Orc’s heart from behind.

An older soldier, one of the men who arrived the other night, extended his hand and spoke with an accent as well. “My name is Iroh, come with me if you want to live.”

I stayed behind Iroh as he walked through, using his unusual sword to cut down any Orc who dared rush him. Never did he step backwards, never did he show signs of fear, and never did he hesitate to kill an enemy that was in front of him. He had escorted me out and then returned to the Monastery to continue the fight. I considered running away, after all, I was now free, and I had no real ties here. But as I turned to leave, I looked over my shoulder and watched Iroh continue to fight. I watched… and watched and watched… and before I knew it, several hours had passed and Iroh came out from the Monastery with a sad look.

“I am afraid your Abbot, Meiyo Senshi, was slain in the attack,” he explained.

“My Abbot? No. No,” I shook my head, “I was not a Monk here. Not truly. Meiyo Senshi simply offered me shelter here.”

“Then you have no one?” Iroh looked around. “You are too young to be on the road yourself. Come with me,” he extended his hand, “I will keep you safe until we find somewhere for you.”

Somewhere for me?

There was no place for me.

I don’t even truly understand what I am yet.

I will find out who I am. What I am. I will find my mother. I will find my father.

But for now, I will take Iroh’s help.

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=473

EphTheorem;24144053 wrote:I'm so glad I found this, I just joined the forums and my group of friends is new to tabletop, so we could all use help with backstories. Our game will start at level 3, but isn't set to start for a bit, so we're taking the time to get nice ideas rolling around. I'd like to put in a request for this idea I had for a character.
Name: Shen (might change later if I find something I like more)
Race: Tiefling
Class: Monk, Way of Shadow
Background: Possibly Hermit?
Tools: Thieves' Tools, Herbalism Kit
Some minor traits I thought of, also subject to change if appropriate:
-Prefers not to draw attention when possible
-Occasionally may speak in metaphors or proverbs
-Didn't know his parents
-As a Tiefling, may have difficulty trusting others, but will be devoted and loyal once someone proves themselves
-May have insecurities about what being influenced by Infernal blood may mean for his afterlife
I read somewhere that Shadow Monks often come from isolated clans rather than more traditional monestaries, and that these clans expect unquestioning loyalty. I don't want to play an evil character, but maybe because of their background, I would be open to the idea that perhaps they may have been Lawful Evil at one point. I feel like Lawful Neutral or Lawful Good would make sense for them as a Monk, but I also don't have a very solid grasp of alignments and this may change depending on what you may have to offer.
The Hermit background feature is some sort of discovery. I had the idea that he may know the identity of someone that few or even no one is supposed to know. Maybe someone within the clan or society of Shadow Monks that wants to remain unseen?
I know it isn't much to go on, but I would be happy to answer any questions you might want answered, and I can think more on anything if it helps. Thanks for this thread, this is such a nice creative outlet and service for people. I look forward to seeing what inspiration may come forth.

I didn't want to go with the "Evil" alignment thing, because that can mess with a party's dynamics if not played properly...
So I went with a very militant setting instead, and focused on the "ninja" aspect of the Way of the Shadow.
This was fun to write; left a few doors open for you (and your DM) to potentially explore if you wanted to.
As always, I'd love to hear feedback! Love it? Hate it? Think it was "Just all right" - please let me know!
PS: Look for a "Star Wars" reference in this background! (I love doing little nods!)
Enjoy!
=====================================
I never knew my true name; but the name I was given was “Shen” meaning “of shadow and darkness” in some ancient language spoken at this Monastery. According to the human, Reikoku, who is the Abbot, or Master of the Shadow Fang Monastery, I washed ashore along with the wreckage of the Darkstrider, a ship that had left Waterdeep’s ports over three weeks ago and vanished within two days of its departure. No other survivors were found.

Reikoku took me in, despite his wife’s protests. He explained to her (and later to me), that the Shadow Fang Monastery was for people like me. Before I was permitted to enter the Monastery, I had no idea what he had meant. That took sixteen years, before he allowed me to climb to the top of Yama, a massive mountain peak that housed the Shadow Fang Monastery. As the large, steel double doors swung open, I saw others like me – Tieflings, as well as Half-Elves, Dragonborn, and others I couldn’t even begin to identify. One thing was clear, each of the Students of the Shadow Fang, were all probably orphans, like myself, as well as “half breeds.”

Reikoku explained that those like me, Tieflings, were the most susceptible to embracing our dark past, our demonic bloodline. He went on to explain that The Shadow Fang was not simply about resisting the “darkness within” but channeling it. Part of being able to channel that shadow that lingers in our soul also allows us to control that darkness. He would say things like, “You are the moon on a starless night. Surrounded by complete darkness, but your light shines bright, because of the darkness.”

“Like the sun chasing the moon,” he said, as he paced back and forth, his hands folded behind his back, his long hair pulled into a tight pony tail, “the light will fade, the dark will come, and you will shine upon the world. In the dark, you will be able to move from shadow to shadow, see in the dark, and even become invisible.”

When I asked if we would be learning magic, he scoffed at me. “Magic? Magic is a plastic ball for the foolish to throw around. What you will learn is channeling your Ki. Ki is a mystical energy, far more powerful than magic that is all around you. It's an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us; it binds us all together.”

“The world, if it sees you, will fear you, even hate you,” Reikoku went on to say. “The world is ignorant. This is why you must master the shadows, the darkness. This will be your home. This is where you will live if you hope to survive.”

As the rigorous training continued, he explained, “Our purpose is simple. We serve the Emperor and his cause. There are those that would strike against the Emperor who is good and just. We are the tool, the weapon that strikes first at the heart of the enemy.”

Something that Reikoku never knew, that I learned, early on when I lived with him and his wife; I learned why his wife had never wanted me around. As it turned out, Reikoku’s faithful wife, Sagi-shi, was having an affair with the very Emperor his cause was set to defend. I never knew how to approach him when I was younger, about what I had seen; and now hearing how he looked up to the Emperor and how he had built the Shadow Fang up from his own bare hands; I wondered if I would ever be able to tell Reikoku.

I was thankful, when I reached the age of eighteen, that Reikoku had sent me to Waterdeep to look into some allegations that spies had uncovered that there was a planned strike to sail some ships into Shima, the island Reikoku and his family, and the Emperor all called home, and launch an attack for some fabled riches that existed in the very mountain that the Shadow Fang Monastery sat upon…

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=482

AH0098;24137773 wrote:As usual great sir, two more.
1st
Name: Mayidil Bawn'urden
Race: Drow Elf
Gender: Female
Class: Fighter
Background: Outlander (Battlemaster)
Personality: I feel tremendous empathy for all who suffer. Despite my birth, I do not place myself above other folk. We all have the same blood. I'm willing to listen to every side of an argument before I make my own judgment.
Ideals: Free Thinking. Inquiry and curiosity are the pillars of progress. Aspiration. I seek to prove myself worthy of my god's favor by matching my actions against her teachings. Redemption. There's a spark of good in everyone.
Bonds: A powerful person killed someone I love. Someday soon, I'll have my revenge.
Flaws: A scandal prevents me from ever going home again. That kind of trouble seems to follow me around.
Notes: She’s a follower of Ellistre, she escaped her drow city before it was destroyed. She lives on the surface with other followers of Ellistre.
I hope you enjoy, you've definitely helped fuel my inspiration to create more characters to fuel your inspiration to write amazing work.

This one is kind of short... Maybe a little darker than you wanted for someone worshiping a Chaotic Good, goddess.
It's short, because a part of her story ties to a previously written one, found here: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=468
Hope you enjoy! As always, looking for feedback!
Enjoy!
==========================

I have seen both darkness and light. I’ve seen both sides of the story, and know that somewhere in the middle lies the truth. My name is Mayidil Bawn'urden, and I grew up in Sundell, one of the many homes of the Drow down in the Underdark. As I grew up, I witness the things my people did, and today, understand the rest of the world’s hatred towards my people. I understand their scolding looks and why they spit in my direction as I pass by them. I understand the reason that many refuse to serve me and why many seek to instigate a fight with me.

I despised the way my people treated those from the surface. Whether it was to enslave them, abuse them, torture them, and those that were lucky, were simply outright killed. At a very young age, I ventured up to the surface world where I met a woman named Ellatorn Brokemane. She was an Elf, like me, but not a Drow. I confessed to her the things my people were doing and she begged me to help turn the tide. She asked me to fetch spellbooks that my people used that consisted of dark magic. She explained that if she hoped to win the fight she would have to sink down to level and power of my people. She promised those books would be destroyed after the fight was over.

For eight weeks, I made lousy reasons to excuse myself from my family, my friends, my life, to sneak information back to Ellatorn Brokemane. In exchange for this information, Ellatorn Brokemane turned me on to a Drow Goddess who welcomed those like me; who sought to return to the surface world once again and escape the madness of the Underdark; and that goddess was Eilistraee. Though I was a fighter by nature, everything about Eilistraee appealed to me. She taught the appreciation of dance and swordplay together, intertwining both the ability to fight, with a focus on how to be in tune with your body.

One day, Ellatorn Brokemane told me that she was ready to begin her assault on Sundell. She had warned me to get my family out of Sundell. So I returned to Sundell and tried to tell my family what was coming. I had lied to them and told them that I caught a surface dwelling spy who revealed this information to me, but my family insisted that they would defend themselves if the Surface World dared invade Sundell.

The attack came two hours sooner than Ellatorn Brokemane had told me; and it made me wonder, had she never intended to allow me and my family to escape the assault. When Ellatorn Brokemane and her forces entered, they were using the same dark magic my own kind used. I could see the infection in their eyes and their soul; and when the battle seemed to be turning against them, they did what I would have never imagined. They raised their own dead soldiers to press on and attack, turning the tide back in their favor.

I had no choice but to fight Ellatorn Brokemane and her forces and I had been the only one that was able to get close enough to her, using her trust in me, to bring her down. My people quickly descended upon her and captured her. Rather than kill her, my people did the same thing she had done. They used dark magic that separated her soul from her body, casting her soul into the Shadowfell, while her body was buried under a great statue made in the blackest of stone, to mark her black soul, and a warning to those who would ever come for my people again.

I left shortly after, returning once again to the surface world; after my brother and sister were found dead as a result of this war. On the surface world, I learned to adjust to my new way of living. And though my heart was full of love from Eilistraee, I still wondered if there might not be a way to return Ellatorn Brokemane’s soul back to her body, so that I might permanently kill her for her betrayal to me and my family…

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=483

AH0098;24137773 wrote:As usual great sir, two more.
2nd
Name: Flint Forgefire
Race: Mountain Dwarf
Gender: Male
Class: Cleric (Forge)
Background: Guild Artisan
Personality: I always want to know how things work and what makes people tick.
Ideals: I work hard to be the best there is at my craft.
Bonds: I owe my clan a debt for forging me into the person I am today. One day I will return to my clan and prove that I am the greatest artisan of them all.
Flaws: I am horribly jealous of anyone that can outshine my handiwork.
Notes: Cleric of Moradin, descendant on his mother’s side of Durgeddin the Black. Homebrewed to exist in Faerun.
I hope you enjoy, you've definitely helped fuel my inspiration to create more characters to fuel your inspiration to write amazing work.

I don’t know if it’s intentional or if you’re aware, the name Flint Fireforge is a very, very well known name in the Dragonlance world/books. Not sure if that was intentional or not. So I decided to have some fun with it. Now while Flint Fireforge was, as I said, Dragonlance (which means another world – Kyrnn – entirely, I still thought it’d be fun to play up a “Flint Fireforge” who was famous on Faerûn to help up play the jealousy you mentioned).

As always would love to hear feedback!

This was admittedly, a bit fun to write, putting the character through frustration and feeding that insecurity....!
Enjoy!
============================================

“Are you the Flint Fireforge?” Bourne Stormfire asked.

“Listen! Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Flint Fireforge asked, tugging at his fiery red beard in frustration. “I am a Flint Fireforge I don’t know if I am the Flint Fireforge you’re talking about.”

“Well, you’d know,” Bren Stonewall chimed in. “He was a great hero. Killed a dragon or two, he did!”

“Then no, I am not that Flint Fireforge,” Flint sighed, exasperated.

“Well, then did your parents name you after the great hero? If your last name’s Fireforge, you may be related,” Bourne clanked his well-worn mug against Bren’s. “We have not had someone of that caliber darken these doors, I dare say!”

“Well then you still haven’t,” Flint took a deep drink from his mug, “because if I am related to this ‘hero’ you speak of, neither one of my parents ever mentioned it.” Flint took another drink as Bourne and

“So you’re just another Fireforge,” Bren asked, trying to maintain his focus through his drunken blur.

Bren, wandered off to go speak with Mella Hillfall, a Hill Dwarf waitress at this run down tavern simply known as The Darkfury. The Darkfury sat right in the middle of a rundown town called Barrelfall. It was a small town that simply acted as a hub for people in need of a room after passing through the Greypeak Mountains.

Flint had hoped to come here and make a name for himself, hearing that there was no one around Barrelfall who was skilled with the forge. However, there was hardly a population of people at all in Barrelfall. Most of the male and female citizens of Barrelfall made their extra money by entertaining travelers that passed through.

Flint had spent his life trying to escape his Mountain Home far to the north, near Citadel Felbarr. His people always expected the greatest things out of him, and everyone someone learned his secret – that he was the son of Durgeddin – they all asked the same thing, “Where does your father keep the magic weapons he hoarded?”

So Flint went out to make a name for himself, escape his past that haunted him, being compared always to his father and the magic – legend states – that he had horded. Truth be told his father was out of the picture by the time Flint was just two years old. With no father figure, Flint had turned to the Church for guidance and found that in Moradin. But Flint had always wanted to be more; perhaps due to the teachings of Moradin, where his god sought his people to always improve upon himself. But now, in this barren town, Flint was finding himself compared to some hero he’d never heard of, who seemed to bare his same name.

He heaved a deep sigh and let his beard dip into his drink before realizing what was happening. He grumbled something beneath his breath and wrung out his beard. He reflected back on the other towns he had paid a visit to, and how he had seen others, like him, extremely skilled with the forge; and he admitted, perhaps because he had lived in the constant shadow of his father’s fame, that he felt that sting of jealousy. He had wanted to do something where people would mention his name in the tones of inspired awe.

Behind him, he heard Bourne and Bren, still talking to Mella Hillfall, and could not help but over hear them say, “Yeah, but he’s not that Flint Fireforge…”

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=489

moonfly7;24144686 wrote:So, I had an idea in my first ever DND game where I played a ranger, if we had gotten to level 3 I would have asked the DM if I could have a skeleton companion for my beast master.
Fast forward 3 years later to now, same DM. He has really loose rules on polymorph and wild shape, and I'm in his game, which is now level 7.
We talk, and he agrees, I can have a skeleton companion for beast master ranger(revised) but we've worked out the rules so that if it dies, I need someone to cast animate dead if I want him back, otherwise I just get an animal that lives around the area I'm in.
I'm thinking that the skellies a dead ranger, and it was guarding some old nature temple when me and my animal companion were attacked. My companion was killed, and the skeleton managed to save my life.
Because he's bound to a skeleton, he's probably going to be hunted/shunned by most society and probably the beast conclave. Druids might even be hunting him, I don't know. But He doesn't care, he's a ranger, he's always been more or less unwelcome in society. Besides, he sees the skeleton as a fellow ranger, a fellow man of arms who he can trust with his life.
I don't know the race of the character yet(maybe human, but I'm not sure) and I'd love to see what you do with this, thanks in advance.
http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthre ... -are-crazy

Ok. That list you rolled has way too many random things in it.
It’d probably take me more than the hour I limit myself to tie everything you rolled into the background. So I am going to take some liberties with what you rolled to try and add some sense to the utter chaos of the rolls. Hopefully it still works out for you.
I'd love to hear feedback! Sorry I wasn't able to squeeze in all the... unusual... rolls you rolled up.
But this should get you started to finish off the rest.
Enjoy!
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My father was a human and a mercenary, to be honest, from what I’ve been told. But from the stories I’ve heard from my grandfather, he was unlike any human he’d seen before. My father was a Paladin of the Order of Eternal Truth; an organization that often worked for profit, to help build their churches in the main cities, to bring the word of their gods to the ears of those who would listen.

When my father stumbled upon my grandfather’s tribe; the Kala’zar Clan, he learned that my grandfather’s daughter – my mother – had been abducted by a group of Ogres who shared the swamp with my mother’s side. That’s right. The swamp. If it wasn’t immediately clear, half of my bloodline comes from the Lizardfolk of the Kala’zar Clan.

That’s right. You’re hearing the story correctly. My father was a human Paladin and my mother a Druid Priestess, Lizardfolk of the Kala’zar Clan. My father, Morak Havenblade agreed to help my grandfather in attempting to rescue my mother from the clutches of the Ogres. My Grandfather believed that the Ogres had wanted to gain the secrets of magic from my mother; to essentially speak with animals and lure them into traps, to easily capture and devour them.

My father fought his way through a den of Ogres and reached my mother, where, much to his surprise; he had caught his breath. My mother, from what I am told, was stunningly beautiful. Her scales were a soft green color, but her eyes were almost human like. She wore an elegant headdress that marked her the daughter of the Chieftan, whose plumes were said to be a mixture of Pegasus and Cockatrice feathers.

It was there, in the Swamp of Endless Sorrow, that my father gazed upon my mother, and found endless amounts of love. He had brought her back to my grandfather, but surprised her father, and her tribe, by proclaiming that she had chosen the one to take her hand – and she chose my father. My grandfather protested it, but he knew, in the end, he would break to his daughter’s will, just as he had always done. For all his strength, muscle and might, he was infinitely weak when staring into his daughter’s eyes.

Out of respect for my grandfather, my father, Morak, built a large home at the edge of the swamp, so that my mother would never be far from her people. After a short year of living together, she had sensed life in her, and announced that she would be giving birth. When I was born, I was the sole one born of my mother; which, among Lizardfolk, is not entirely uncommon, as they give live birth and do not lay eggs, similar to an assortment of known “lizards” in nature.

However, just after my birth, my mother perished. My grandfather blamed my father, and the unnatural mating of human and Lizardfolk, and as a result of my grandfather’s words, or that my father’s heart was already broken by the demise of my mother, my father perished a few short weeks after my birth. My grandfather took me from the mansion at the edge of the swamp and raised me as his own; perhaps because, despite my mixed blood, he saw pieces of his daughter in me.

By the age of sixteen, I was already exhibiting the same powers as my mother, in being able to speak with animals and understand the very sounds of nature around me. However, where my mother was more passive, perhaps because of the reckless behavior of humans, I was more aggressive, taking on the role of explorer and more of a Ranger than a simple Druid.

By the age of eighteen, I told my grandfather I wanted to see the mansion I had been born in. In eighteen years, the swamp had already begun the process of reclaiming the land. Vines wrapped around the house, through windows and doors, as if attempting to hide it from view. It had already sunk several feet into the swamp near the back, and Kobolds and Stirges, both of which I was forced to drive out, had taken up residence and ruined the interior even further.

In the basement, now flooded by murky waters, I found evidence that the Kobolds had been trying to summon up some form of demon, by the looks of it. A water logged Wizard’s book I found upstairs, seemed to detail what was required; but neither myself, nor the Kobolds it seemed, were capable of deciphering the books. Undoubtedly, they had hoped to summon a demon of some kind, that they believed would serve them, and they could take over the Ogres and my people, and claim the Swamp of Endless Sorrow, as their own domain.

Though my grandfather had taught me some Common, it was much easier to speak it than read it. I found volumes of my father’s books that detailed some of his Holy Missions across the land, which inspired me to try my own hand in the world beyond the swamp.

I found a city called Silvervale, which I managed to join the garrison there; but because of my race, the other guards did everything they could to exclude me. When I walked into the same room, they would suddenly silence themselves making me feel uncomfortable. After a brief battle with Ogres, where I was wounded, I left the garrison and left Silvervale.

As the city gates closed behind me, I wondered what the world had to offer me…