Just sharing my latest round...
Alluster716;24515638 wrote:
Name: Cassius Twilight-Might
Age:
Race: Human
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Cassius is a sage Fiendlock Level five (Chain pact boon)
Personality Traits: I’ve read every book in the world’s greatest libraries—or I like to boast that I have.
Ideals: No Limits. Nothing should fetter the infinite possibility inherent in all existence. (Chaotic)
Bonds: I have an ancient text that holds terrible secrets that must not fall into the wrong hands.
Flaws: Most people scream and run when they see a demon. I stop and take notes on its anatomy.
This was fun to write - and easy, one I determined I'd use Belaros. Belaros is a (Pit Demon, essentially) from my campaign world - that I've used quite a bit in this thread, to explain he's traveling through planes collecting pieces of souls for some grand mission! Your DM can use him (if they so please, or change it to another demon) - I also love leaving doors open for the DM. Will you encounter your father later? Learn some truth about him? What about your mother and sister? What will their fate be? Plenty for the DM to tinker with.
Anyway, hope you enjoy - would love feedback as it keeps the thread bumped and alive!
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My family was poor, and I grew up living out of improvised shelters that my mother called “home.” My father was someone I never knew – my mother told me stories of how he had died in some great battle, but as I grew older, I began to suspect he simply left my mother, myself and my sister to our own fates. By the age of nine, an older gentleman had seen me pandering for food on the side and offered me a position at the Great Library sorting books. He said he would pay me both in food and education, and he did. He provided me enough so that I could share with my mother and sister, and patiently educated me on learning how to read.
He was patient with me, and has no fear in my learning too much, since I had no education before him. He told me how to read the letters, the order they’re in; the numbers, and the order they’re in, so that I could properly put the books in the correct order, on the correct shelves, in the correct rows, based on the numbering on the spines of the book – a system developed by an ancient wizard named Mel Vilduey.
However, one night, as I was putting the books away – a smaller book slide out from the center pages, as if it had been a bookmark. I checked the spine and saw no code on the back, for which I would normally simply have put it in its proper spot. I pocketed the book with the intention of asking Jern Storecloud, who had been graciously teaching me. However, the night escaped me and I took this book back with me – by this time, I had earned enough to also pay for a small, one bedroom inn that I shared with my mother and sister. My mother and sister slept on the small, uncomfortable bed, while I slept on the wooden floor. It wasn’t much – but it was paradise compared to what we used to live like.
When I opened the book, it seemed to hiss – but I assumed that was just old pages breathing life. The words on the pages were written in unusual symbols – like nothing I’d seen before, and certainly nothing Jern had ever taught me. However, as I turned the pages – the symbols swam on the pages, changing and churning – and rather than reading them, I could hear a voice inside my head – a voice who introduced himself as Belaros. He explained he saw great potential in me, and that I rose up from nothing to finding this ancient text – a piece of my own destiny. However, this Belaros had been trapped by evil wizards, long ago – and needed an anchor back to the world – and that if I agreed to be his anchor he could provide great power to me – but I would have to prove myself to him. He said with my power would come money to provide for my sister and mother.
With that, I accepted. He explained he would send a piece of himself to me – to be by my side – and that came in the form of a creature he called a Quasit. He explained that – when needed, so it would not arise suspicions – it could take the form of a bat, centipede or a toad – but that I was to protect it.
With that – came his knowledge as he opened my mind to the world – and suddenly I could read. As I filed the books away, I would read them as quickly as possible – but something told me to never tell Jern – never tell anyone – about what had happened – this connection with this being named Belaros. I kept the book that granted me this power close to me.
As I grew older, and I kept my familiar safe – but there was something interesting about releasing him and seeing people’s reactions to him. Why had they feared such a small, demonic creature? Why do people fear so many small things – mice, spiders, and other such beasts which could technically easily be killed, with minimal effort.
As the wagon creaked, I waved farewell to my mother and sister. I would go on to find adventure and send money to them to ensure they were always taken care of.
After all, that’s what Belaros promised.
huginn;24516646 wrote:
Name: Drake Flint
Race: Human
Class: ranger 1 will be taking gloom stalker
Alignment: lawful neutral
Background:urban bounty hunter
Ideal: I don't steal from others in the trade
Flaw: I am inflexible in my thinking
Not sure what Personality Trait or bond to take.
My concept is I was a henchmen for the bad guy and I been thinking about 2 different ways
1) My parents were tenant farmers and my choices were become a tenant farmer, bandit or priest. I joined out of desperation but I felt they were going too far. They didn't become bandits out of desperation they were greedy bullies. I started to see them as being partly to blame for my family being so poor as they would steal from the poor
2) I was working for a corrupt official, a sheriff of Nottingham type and after seeing how corrupt he is I switched sides
In either case I see something bad that happened which caused me to turn against them and on some level I knew what I was doing was wrong. I seek to redeem myself for what I did
So... I decided why not mix both ideas and come up with something.
This was fun to write.
Also gives your DM some potential villains for your characters/campaigns.
As always, hope you enjoy and would love feedback in the thread.
It keeps it bumped and live, so it really helps!
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Some of my earliest memories were of my father, worked to the bone, coming into the small shed we’d been provided as farming tenants. He would collapse in the small chair and heave a deep sigh that came from deep within; and each time he did, it always sounded like his final breath. Most nights, he would simply fall asleep in the chair and my mother would retreat to the small mat on the floor, alone, weeping.
I remember the years growing up – swearing I would not be someone’s slave – I would be something more. This harvested a dark attitude that earned me a reputation for starting fights – and it was all true. I didn’t allow anyone to talk down at me, despite being poor, despite coming from a family with nothing; I always stood up for myself.
This reputation carried with me as I grew into a young, rebellious teenager. This eventually caught the attention of Marius Hillstorm. She, like myself, was a woman with a reputation for never backing down – whether it was man, woman, or child that she had a problem with. She stared down and fought humans, half-orcs, and rumor had it – a minotaur, once. She had several scars on her face and arm, and when she moved right – you could see some on her abdomen too, making it easy to believe the stories.
She approached me and told me about how she had wanted to see if what she’d heard about me was true. Some need in me wanted to show her that everything she’d heard and more – was indeed true.
“I have a task you might be interested in,” Marius said, her green eyes flashing as her amber hair blew gently in the wind. “I’ve heard you grew up from a family with nothing and had a father that worked himself to death, and how your mother was forced to marry another man that she did not love, or lose the roof over her head.”
My arms folded in front of my chest, I nodded, “You heard right. What of it?”
“The right have long held us down, their foot on our necks. It’s time we take back what we’ve worked for but were never paid. I have several men who will be ambushing a Senator’s wagon tonight. If you’d like to accompany them – prove your worth to me – I can bring you in and give you part of the take.”
I agreed – and the night had gone perfect – we surrounded the wagon – crossbows out – demanded the chest in the wagon – Karak, a half orc mounted on a horse rode off with it – the rest of us retreated into the shadows. For it, I was given 37 gold – which is more than I’d ever held in my hand. Marius officially introduced me and inducted me into ‘The Black Razors’ that night.
For weeks, we successfully pulled off robbery after robbery – even when guards were accompanying them – typically an arrow to the leg was enough to convince them to stop and surrender. There’d only been one time that things turned violent.
One night, I’d observed Marius holding back on the drinking during another successful celebration; so I stopped drinking as well. Something tonight seemed different in how she was acting. Her pose seemed much stiffer as she leaned against the post – as if watching and waiting for her team of brigands to become drunk. I began to feign intoxication, but never took my eye off of her. When she believed that her crew was too drunk to notice, she slipped out the back of the cave, which was also unusual – we only used that as an emergency exit, because the door on the other side was hidden and we feared someone spotting us leaving from there. I followed her to the back, sticking to the shadows as she slid out the door and proceeded to light a fire. She climbed on a wagon pulled horse and quickly rode off. With no other choice I burst through the fiery door and ran towards another horse – when I noticed an entire battalion of city guards riding towards the front of the cave. I stared after her and stared back at the fiery door and cursed.
Sliding off the horse, I jumped through the fiery door again to warn the others of the city guards – but most of the city guard had arrived and were either arresting or killing members of the Black Razors even as they slept! We had been played. Leaping through the fiery door, yet again, I jumped back on the horse and pushed it to catch up to Marius Hillstorm – easily catching up since he horse was pulling a wagon – I maintained some distance. I watched as she pulled into a small lake front area and jumped off the horse. She paced back and forth, until another figure – human – approached. They hugged, cheered and embraced on another. The human was older – and it took a moment, but I recognized him.
Sheriff Hillsky.
And suddenly it became real – he had amber hair and green eyes.
He was her father.
He was her father!
This had all been a set up for her to hire mercenaries, gather gold, take a larger share – and share it with her father.
It was only three months later, when I heard the news of “Marius Hillstorm, who barely escaped with her life, against the City Guard, was looking for men and women to recruit to strike back…”
She was going to do the same thing again.
Klorox;24517275 wrote:
Ok, how about this? I’m looking for an expanded story on a kenku paladin. Brief story is he was observing the initiation of a paladin into his order, he started mimicking the ceremony, and found himself unwittingly initiated into the order.
He’ll obviously be a very strange paladin.
This one was a bit of a "cheat" - if you will. In one of my games, I am playing a Level 9 Rogue Kenku - whose origin is very similar to this.
However, as I copied and pasted your request into WORD to begin writing it - I realized, with a tweak to the end - the origin of my Kenku could EASILY become that of a Paladin.
So with a tweak of the character's name (you never mentioned one so I called him "Karik") - your character became a member of my own Kenku's "flock."
Left some doors open for your DM (in regards to tracking down a demon and such)... anyway, hope you enjoy it!
I'd love feedback or comments!
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Karik’s life drastically changed when he followed the words of their Chief – whom they’d dubbed ‘The Caller.’ The Caller had spent weeks, as a minion to an old, human wizard named Rylius. ‘The Caller’ using expert Kenku ability to forge, had been copying the wizard’s tomes, and storing them for himself. He often tricked the Wizard into speaking a few words to spell components, by pointing at them and shrugging.
What Rylius was unaware of, was that ‘The Caller’ had found and copied one of the wizard’s tomes on Demonology. Within the book, ‘The Caller’ found a spell to summon a demon named Rano Kau, that bore a striking resemblance to the Kenku; except Rano Kau still had his wings. Believing that Rano Kau would sympathize with the Kenku of ‘The Black Talon’, ‘The Caller’ used the words he had tricked Rylius into speaking and summoned Rano Kau forth.
Rano Kau told ‘The Caller’ that he could indeed restore his flock with the ability to fly once more; but in order to do so the flock would need to recover six stones for the demon. Blinded by the desire to have their wings restored, all of the members of ‘The Black Talon’ traveled around the world, doing whatever it took to steal the six desired stones.
When all six had been gathered, they summoned Rano Kau once more and presented the six stones to the demon. The demon laughed, and took the stones, and said, “A promise was made, that I would restore your flight, so you might visit the heavens again.” And with that, the demon cast a spell that sent the members of ‘The Black Talon’ soaring into the air; then, when they reached the clouds, ceased the magical spell that lifted them. Without their wings, the flock of the ‘The Black Talon’ plunged towards the Earth. Karik knew then, that the demon had kept his words – he never said he would restore their wings; only that he would allow them to fly once more to touch the heavens…
Karik crashed into towering trees, snapping branches as he plummeted to the ground below. How he had survived, he did not know. But all of his flock was around him, and not a single one survived. Karik was furious that he and his flock had been so easily manipulated and betrayed. But in that moment of being a lone survivor, Karik wondered had there been a reason?
He wandered aimlessly for days, without a flock, without a purpose, until in the city of Aventine, he bore witness to a Paladin Initiation Ceremony – and subconsciously muttered the words and mimicked the movements throughout the entire ceremony – and to his surprise, when he was done, he felt his body surge with positive energy and the presence of a god coursing through his veins.
Karik now wondered – had the god been the reason he survived? To lead him here? To perhaps one day hunt down the demon Rano Kau and destroy him for the manipulation and murder of his flock?
Lysimarchos;24680854 wrote:Well, this is a very impressive thread, so here is a character I want to play in my next game:
Name: Alaric of Whitegrove
Race: Human
Class: Arcana Cleric
Alignment: Neutral Good
Background: Inquisitor
Concept: A Cleric of Maelther, god of magic, knowledge and the twilight, and the son of the sun god Mithranar. The cult of Maelther is a minor one, composed mostly of scholars and mages, but its priests also serve as inquisitors, hunting down demonic and undead threats and bringing to justice those who misuse magic and threaten the peace. Alaric was one such inquisitor. He investigated magical phenomena, and brought demonologists and unlawful necromancers to justice. He also followed his god's tenet of seeking knowledge, so he studied under druids and under the priests of the god of passage and the underworld, learning a small amount of druidic magic and lawful necromancy. He could have taken a position as the priest in a temple of Maelther and peacefully retired, but a power dispute between his progressive faction the cult of Maelther and the conservative one meant that he likely would be relegated to a small parish with no influence and meager pay. So instead, he chose the open road: to fight evil and spread good on his own. The life of an adventurer was not so different from that of an inquisitor, after all.
Added to the list.
Apologies, as mentioned previously - I'd found my wife unresponsive - and life took a drastic turn.
We're still dealing with all of that. But creatively writing from time to time helps me escape.
I've been running a number of games also - which has also helped.
Anyway, way over due...
Vooez;24520457 wrote:
First: Coal, a fire genasi sage wizard (probably abjurer).
I imagine him as being born in the city of brass in the elemental plain of fire, and he lived a life of service to an efreeti. Since he was genasi he was treated slightly better then the other slaves, and at some point he befriended an old wizard who was also enslaved. Eventually he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to, and was sentenced to death/exile but by some miracle (maybe with the help of the old wizard) he was sent to the material plain, and would eventually find a home in waterdeep/boulder's gate. Now at his new home he wants to become stronger so he doesn't waster the opportunity he got, and one day perhaps defeat the efreet who enslaved him..
Coal was a Fire Genasi, who – for all of his life – had only known the life of being a servant to the Efreeta by the name of Kurrstin. Here, in the City of Brass – home to the Efreeti – Kurrstin was well known and well respected. But she could be as cruel as she was beautiful – and, for an Efreeta, she was rather breath taking.
Though Kurrstin had many slaves, Coal was fortunate that he was a Fire Genasi – because of that, she seemed to treat him better than many of the other slaves. Those Coal befriended, also seemed to gain some leniency from Kurrstin’s wrath. One such slave was an older human wizard, Stefaun, who Kurrstin seemed to initially have a strong hatred for.
Stefaun was average looking for a human; streaks of white in his black hair, eyes of blue.
“She seems to favor you,” Stefaun noted, as Coal sat down next to the old wizard.
Coal looked over his shoulder at Kurrstin, who was just leaving the room, before looking back at Stefaun. “I believe she ‘favors’ me only because I am born of fire, similar to her. The rest of,” he paused, wondering how to phrase, “flesh types, are playthings to her. If you perish, she can easily purchase another in the market.”
Stefaun smiled, which Coal thought was unusual. “Why do you smile, human?”
“Because she did not purchase me in the market,” Stefaun replied. “She sought me out.”
“She sought you out? On the Prime Material Plane?” Coal asked. He’d heard stories of the Prime Material Plane from all the slaves Kurrstin had had over the years, but had never seen it himself. “Why would she do that?”
“You could say I study… Chronomancy…”
“Chronomancy… the magic of time?” Coal asked.
“Indeed,” Stefaun smiled. “It would seem, Kurrstin had brought a small army into the Prime Material Plane, and attacked a village – a village, I happened to be at. I was able to – with my knowledge – twist time back several hours – before her attack – and allow most of the villages to escape.”
“When she returned,” Stefaun continued with a chuckle, “the only person there was me. And I had enough strength to shunt her several hours back again. This happened a number of times, before I was too exhausted to continue – but by then, the villagers had all fled. She maintained the memory of the time shunts and was furious with me. She’s tortured me to learn how I had done it, but I’ve not given in to her.”
Stefaun paused, “Honestly, the only reason she’s let me out of my cage is for you to befriend me, to talk to me, so she could use you to get knowledge from me. I won’t expect you to turn on her… but what if I offered to teach you magic… so that you could escape from here?”
Coal looked surprised, “Where would I go?”
“To where she would have the hardest time finding you,” Stefaun replied, “the Prime Material Plane.”
Coal was shocked. But it only took a moment for him to agree.
He met with Stefaun daily, and as the human mage had suspected, Kurrstin pulled Coal aside to ask what Stefaun talked about. Coal never revealed he was learning magic; instead, he lied and said that Stefaun was telling him about all these different places on the Prime Material Plane that Stefaun had visited over the many years of his long life.
The day finally came where Kurrstin suspected Coal was lying to her – and used her own scrying magic to observe the teachings Stefaun was bestowing upon her favorite slave. When she burst into the room to confront them, Stefaun quickly opened a portal and shoved Coal through – and shut it behind him. As the portal came to a close, Coal could hear Kurrstin’s cussing, and the screams of Stefaun – all suddenly silenced as the portal closed.
Coal looked around him and saw lush green forests, and the lapping water of a nearby lake. He stood up and at that moment noticed, Stefaun had shoved a note in his vest – but the writing was Arcane in nature – and ancient by the looks of it. What was he supposed to do with it?
How I imagine Kirrstun might have looked:
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/3c/cc/e9 ... 4304cd.png
Aldreck;24522117 wrote:
Very interesting thread, and I have a few ideas for characters at the moment, with backstories that could do with fleshing out. For starters, how about this:
Braelaine, Wood Elf, True Neutral, Barbarian (Wolf Totem), Outlander background
Braelaine narrowly survived being mauled by a werewolf when he was a young boy. Unfortunately for him, the deeply superstitious folk of his village took a dim view of having a newly-turned lycanthrope living among them, and he was forced to flee the town with a torch-and-pitchfork-wielding mob at his heels. Trying to survive in the wilderness while limiting his contact with civilised folk, he eventually found company with a circle of Moon Druids, who took him in as an adoptive son, found ways to control/restrain him during his transformations and eventually contracted a travelling cleric/paladin to break the curse on him. Though he was offered druid training and a position in the circle, Braelaine declined, as the thought of transforming into an animal again, even voluntarily, made him uneasy. Instead he trained to become a barbarian, with his rage ability representing him recalling nightmarish memories of his cursed form. Now he finds work as a monster hunter, with a particular interest in evil lycanthropes so that no innocent shall have to bear the curse as he did.
I did make a slight change to what you had... and in turn, made this a story based off an old, old, old module I wrote called "Giant Problems" (originally written for and declined by DUNGEON Magazine) of a Hill Giant infected with Lycanthropy...
Kept the part of the wolves totem - and I think I tied that in nicely.
I'd love your feedback!
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The woods were eerily silent as Braelaine hunted his prey. He knew he was on the right track, because he’d just passed the corpse of a young doe whose insides had been ripped out for the sheer pleasure of the kill. Until now, he’d suspected it’d been the Hill Giant he had spotted several weeks ago, who had wandered aimlessly into the woods. But even now, as he knelt down to examine the tracks – what he was tracking was no clumsy Hill Giant – but rather the largest bear he’d ever seen.
The others from his village had also been hunting this predator – though, like Braelaine, they believe it to be the Hill Giant. Braelaine considered quietly turning around to warn the others that it wasn’t the Hill Giant when a large, brown, grizzly bear burst through the brush – claws gleaming in the pale full moon light, raking across his chest and snapping his bow in half. Braelaine stared up, from the floor, hands clutching the gaping wound. He could feel warm blood seeping from his fingertips. He watched as the large bear reared up – and Braelaine was certain the killing blow was coming – but instead saw several arrows hit the massive bear, who quickly turn and fled. Braelaine saw his best friend, Rotol kneeling down – calling for the healers. Braelaine reached out to his best friend but lost consciousness.
It was several weeks before Braelaine was on his feet again. Rotol was there to greet him, his raven black hair and soft green eyes, showing deep concern for his friend. He peered at the scars across Braelaine’s chest. “That bear left quite a mark on you. The healers said they couldn’t heal the scar.”
“It burns,” Braelaine admitted as his hand subconsciously traced the long scar.
“It burns?” Rotol stood. “What do you mean it burns? Did you tell the healers?”
“No,” Braelaine shook his head. “Otherwise they’d never let me leave.”
As the days passed, Rotol observed a continued change in Braelaine. Braelaine had become more agitated, quickly losing his temper. Just before the full moon, his hunger seemed virtually endless, to the point that Braelaine did not even wait for meat to be cooked – he’d begun eating it raw.
Then on the full moon – the truth was revealed.
Braelaine awoke, drenched in sweat – hungry. He looked at his hands as they trembled violently. His body ached. His mind felt like it was a living inferno. His stomach and heart were churned inside him, as if some spiritual hand had reached inside and twisted his organs.
He tried to stand, and collapsed on the floor – and in that moment, watched as his hands had grown in size and become covered in brown fur. He looked up – and in the mirror saw what he’d become – a brown bear. Bursting out of his room – his villagers were surprised to see a bear in his room and launched arrows. Braelaine fled for his life.
After the full moon had passed, Braelaine awoke near the lake and realized his last memory was running out of his own cabin. He looked at his hands in horror – as he saw they were covered in blood. He crawled to the lapping water of the lake to wash them off, only to see his face reflected in the ripples of water – also covered in blood.
“It was the Hill Giant, wasn’t it?” a familiar voice asked.
Braelaine turned to see Rotol sitting on a log. “I knew you’d end up here. Despite the beast you’d become, your subconscious will always take you here to Bluesky Lake – where your mother would bring you to sing to you when you were just a baby.” He shook his head. “We were tracking the Hill Giant – only we didn’t know he was infected with lycanthropy. That explains the oversized bear. And it looks like he’s infected you. You know our people… they believe there’s no cure… other than a swift death. Braelaine, you need to run. Run far and fast. Don’t look back.”
Braelaine stood. “You’re not going to kill me?”
“I’m giving you a head start, because you were my best friend. But the animal inside you – the trail of dead animals in your wake of the beast you’ve become. A part of you is forever changed. Run. Now,” Rotol said plainly as he began to draw his bow. “Take advantage of the head start.”
Braelaine ran as fast as he could – truth be told, he could not tell if Rotol would truly hunt him down – but he was right – the Priests believed that Lycanthropy – even cured from a person, remained and could be passed down to children – so death was truly the only cure.
Several arrows narrowly missing Braelaine know that Rotol was indeed, somewhere behind him and so Braelaine pushed himself harder that before – leaves, branches, vines, all seemed to work against him; cutting his face, his arms, his legs, until he finally simply collapsed.
When he awoke, he was surrounded by Druids – and he immediately recognized them. The Druids of Nashar – the Moon Druids.
“You’ve been inflicted,” one of them said, a woman of incredible beauty as she kneeled down and placed her palm on his forehead. “We can sense the disease coursing through your body. We have called on a friend to help bring a cure.”
“There is no cure,” Braelaine muttered.
The woman smiled, and placed her hand on his eye lids and whispered, “Rest now.” And as if magically commanded, Braelaine slipped into a state of slumber. In his dream, he saw himself by the ocean, howling, the tides of water breaking around him, shaping themselves as wolves, howling at the moon. His burst from the waves, like a rising phoenix, the waves turned to mist, swirling around him, now changing into hundreds of wolves, wrapping around his body.
When Braelaine opened his eyes, he found himself being tied to a post by the Druids – and standing before him, a human adorned in full plate. He accepted that the Paladin that stood before him had come to “cure” him by killing him – but when the Paladin did not draw his weapon, but instead placed his hand on Braelaine’s forehead and explained, “I apologize about you being tied up, but this cure will invoke the beast in you – restraining you like this is for your – and our – benefit.”
The Paladin placed his hand on Braelaine’s forehead tightly and began to chant a prayer – and Braelaine could feel it – the beast inside of him screaming to be free – to kill the Paladin, the Druids – to stop them from freeing him of the evil that dwelled inside of him.
It was an hour before the Paladin finished the prayer, and Braelaine collapsed, exhausted, as did the Paladin, who buckled to his knees. But inside of him… Braelaine could feel it… the evil was gone. But he also felt changed by the entire experience. The evil that had lived inside of him changed him irrevocably.
The Druids released Braelaine, and offered him a place there with them – but Braelaine felt that even in the Druidic nature of being able to change their shape was something Braelaine never wanted to do again. Instead, he thanked them and ran far away from the woods – until he was alone in the mountains, unsure what to do with the change he felt in him.
He screamed in fury – and it echoed across the cold stone mountains. But his furious cry did not go unheard – a wolf howled in response. Then another. Then another. Then another. Soon he was surrounded by the song of the wolves – who were all drawn to him.
In their eyes, he saw an intelligence he’d not seen before in a wolf. They had an enemy that needed to be hunted down. A vicious killer who had upset the balance of nature. Killed needlessly. The wolves would show Braelaine his new path. They were his family. His brothers. He was now a part of the pact.
For weeks he ran wild with the wolves, embracing the wild nature – and forgetting all that it was like to be civilized. He gave in to rage and fury – fed to him by the wolves who needed him to be strong if they were to bring down their enemy.
One night, Braelaine followed the wolves, adorned in nothing but furs – and they led him to a large cave, where he heard the growl of a familiar large bear…
togapika;24593637 wrote:
Fin Varra
Male Satyr Warlock
Met and fell in love with a Succubus who ended up falling for him. They were even set to be married. When heaven and hell found out, they drug her away to parts unknown, while heaven condemned him and hell cursed him. Only problem for hell was the entity they got to curse him had never cursed a Fey before, so instead of harming him, it forged a link between them and granted him the powers of a Fiend Warlock without actually making a deal.
Not sure who seduced/charmed/romanced whom, but feel free to make it whomever you think is better/funnier.
Forgot to mention that her name is Kay'Linn, and they met because she was working for a more powerful devil and he sent her to try and offer Fin a deal for fame and a music career. Fin was fine with his music trajectory, and said no, but was intrigued by her and asked her for a date. After she figured out he wasn't just looking to bone her, she accepted, partly due to finding the whole idea funny, and partly for a 2nd chance to close the deal for her boss.
This was rather fun - literally - to write!
Would love your feedback!
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Saaris sat upon his throne of charred bones, his forked tail flickering, and his lip in what seemed to be a permanent curl of displeasure. He gazed furiously into his scrying pool and finally hit the water with his hands, breaking the connection. “You know what I hate?” Saaris, a Horned Devil, growled.
Kay'Linn, a beautiful succubus next to Saaris bowed, “What is it that displeases your, master?”
“Happiness,” he rolled his eyes. “Joy. Glee. Music. All of it.”
Normally when Saaris was in this mood, Kay'Linn gathered a hapless soul for Saaris to rend and gain pleasure from the sounds of torment as the soul is ripped to pieces. “Shall I gather a soul for you to rend? That usually helps, master.”
“No,” Saaris shook his head. “No. Not this time. This is all because some Fey is running wild on the Prime Material Plane – a Satyr whose music and charms and spreading love and joy. It’s making me sick. Something about him.” He paused, and then slowly looked at Kay'Linn. “I’ve an idea. Go, find this ‘Fin Varra’ – offer him a deal, from me – to grant him fame and fortune like he’s never known – for the music he plays, in exchange for his soul. Then, when he signs the paper work, kill him instantly, so that I might rend his soul, specifically, to pieces.”
Kay'Linn bowed, “As you wish, master.”
Kay'Linn muttered the magical words than shunted her to the Prime Material Plane. She quickly folded in her wings, and used magic to hide them and her horns. It took only a moment to hear the merriment coming from a tavern called “The Lion’s Pride.” She slowly made her way towards the tavern, walking down the street, feeling eyes upon her of many of the men – and many of the jealous women.
As she pushed open the doors, she saw him – the Satyr who was dancing on the tables, clanking drinks with other patrons while singing a song about some waterfall that flowed backwards, that house a thousand mermaids, more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen.
But that’s when he turned, and saw her – and the words stopped. Everyone else continued to cheer and sing – but his eyes were locked with hers. He felt his mouth slowly opening in awe, and quickly tried to recover. He approached her, leaping off the table to take her hand into his and kiss it gently.
“Your hair,” he awed, “it’s like that of the most beautiful sunrise. Your eyes as soft as any bed, so welcoming. I’ve never seen such beauty before. What is your name?”
“Kay,” she replied.
“Well, Lady Kay, I do hope you will join us for a drink?” he gestured behind him and the patrons of the inn all raised their mugs and cheered, then proceeded to sing the song that Fin had taught them about the magical waterfall.
Kay'Linn blushed, “I would be honored.”
She sat and watched Fin, as he continued to dance, sing, cheer, and tell magnificent stories. For nearly a hundred years, she’d faithfully served Saaris – especially after Saaris had killed her previous master, another Horned Devil, who was higher ranking than Saaris. He’d been much crueler, demanding things of her; but at least he’d sent her to the Prime Material Plane to enslave me. This had been the first time in a hundred years that Saaris had allowed her to come to the Prime Material Plane. Saaris did not care about Kay'Linn, but she was a trophy – a reminder to those in the Planes of Hell, that Saaris had killed someone more powerful than him.
She’d forgotten what life on the Prime Material Plane was like.
Fin approached her, flowers in hand, which he had gotten from one of the vases, and quickly set them down. He frowned, “I saw these flowers, and they were beautiful. I brought them here, to you, but as soon as I saw you, I was reminded of your beauty – and these flowers paled in comparison.”
“I want them,” she said, taking the flowers. She looked at them, then looked at him. “I … work for someone who can make you very rich and very famous, Fin. I have a contract that you need but just sign and I can make it official.”
Fin smiled, “I can hardly think of music, when I am around you. My heart beats so loudly in my ears, it’s like the drums of a hundred men.”
Saaris was right – Fin was, without a doubt, quite charming.
The two of them spent nearly a week together, becoming closer and closer, before one night, they celebrated their mutual feelings inside Old Man Edgar’s barn. As she lay next to him, she placed her hand on his chest, and felt his heartbeat.
“I’ve never felt more alive than I do now,” he replied.
“Nor I,” she responded honestly, though barely above a whisper.
For the first three nights of their growing relationship, she’d brought up the contract. By the fourth night, all she wanted was to be next to Fin.
Saaris had been watching it all unfold, and could tell he was losing his hold on Kay'Linn. He commanded her to return to him – and so she did – leaving a note for Fin, that perhaps, one day, when she is free of her boss – they will meet again.
Saaris, so furious, cursed Fin – however, never having cursed a Fey before – the result was disastrous, when Fin saw the note, his heart broke and in fury – and inexplicably – he released an Eldritch Blast from his fingertips!
At that very moment, in the plane of Hell, Saaris sat up suddenly, touching his chest, and growled, “What the Hell just happened?”
Saaris, the Horned Devil:
https://media-waterdeep.cursecdn.com/av ... 36976.jpeg
Kay'Linn, the Succubus:
https://media-waterdeep.cursecdn.com/av ... 12994.jpeg
Great Dragon;24561687 wrote:
Anyway, here's a background you might have fun with:
One of my current PCs is a Folk Hero Kobold Ancestral Barbarian.
But, what isn't known is his Wife! Except that she is still a Kobold.
There's a good chance he's a Pa!!
What was meant is that literally nothing was really known about the female Kobold: Her Name, Background or Backstory. If she already had Class/Subclass-Levels, or acquired them later;
This PC is from my Council of Wyrms Campaign, which is an Island World (officially) ruled by Dragons.
I look forward to seeing what you come up with !!
This is the backstory I came up with for the Ancestral Guardian Barbarian when I made him:
(The PC) Dhamkeakrux (Dam That Kobold!) during one of his solo Folk Heroic rebellions against ‘Bad Bosses’ (Evil Dragons) found the female Kobold that he rescued (from the City-lair of an Adult Green Dragon, that he never even saw) and in true Classic Knight (Cavalier) Story style, she fell in love with Dam and married him. Together for an unknown (to me) amount of time, before the agents of Endigax Treebreaker (the Adult Green Dragon) found where Dam was (Flaw: the local Lord wants me dead!) and forced him to send his wife to another Island to be safe.
Maybe someday, he will rejoin her. (The “he might be a Pa” spoiler is a possibility)
A fairly simple soul, I tend to refere to Dam as the Kobold version of an angry Forest Gump with a battleaxe!
I have the Council of Dragons book, but never ran it back in the day.
So I am not sure who would serve Endigax, so I just made it Ogres and humans. Feel free to adjust of course.
I named the female Kobold, because repeatedly calling her "female Kobold" in the story was bugging me.
As always, feel free to adjust.
Hope you enjoy and would love feedback in the thread, as it keeps the thread bumped and alive.
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Dhamkeakrux – often called Dam by those that knew him – never cared much for stealth. The Rage of Fury of his Ancestors burned in blood and yearned to be wild and free in the midst of combat. But his companion – another Kobold named Obokld who was quite skilled at both stealth and lightening someone’s coin purse – had warned him that he’d spotted dragons in the area and that there was a good chance, somewhere in this city – a dragon was sleeping.
They moved quietly through the town, which had been overrun by both Ogres and humans alike, who were loyal to whatever dragon now reigned supreme here – but, by the appearances of their tattered tabards it would seem that a green dragon had taken up residence here. When a patrol of ogres was nearing them, both were forced to quickly break down a door and take cover in the building – however, the building was not abandoned. It’d been a barracks to keep slaves. The slaver, a human rose to his feet, puzzled at seeing two kobolds. The green dragon, Endigax Treebreaker, had certainly employed Kobolds as a part of their militia but these two seemed distinctly out of place.
“What order are you with,” the slaver asked, as his hand went to the whip to his side.
Obokld was about to try and lie his way through the situation, but before he could, his good friend Dhamkeakrux flew into a rage. Spirits swirled around Dhamkeakrux, as the Kobold flew into a frenzy and attacked the slaver.
The human stumbled backwards, surprised by the rush of the attack and the unusual sight of spiritual images charging with the kobold at him. He tried to attack the Dhamkeakrux – or the spirits – anything to keep them at bay, but Dhamkeakrux was already leaping through the air, battle axe in hand, and cleaved it deep into the chest of the slaver.
As the body collapsed to the ground, gurgling in his own blood, Dhamkeakrux saw the one slave that the human had been abusing in here – a female kobold.
She rushed to Dhamkeakrux and embraced him tightly. “Thank you,” she whimpered, “thank you for saving me from him.”
Dhamkeakrux was taken aback, unsure of how to react. He’d just felt the rage coursing in his veins, but her warm touch and embrace seemed to cool him down immediately, and fill him with a different kind of fire. “What happened?” he asked. “How did you come to be here?”
“There is a green dragon here named Endigax Treebreaker who found my village and demanded our servitude to their cause. The elders disagreed – and Endigax Treebreaker demanded her followers to capture and enslave us. Most of her soldiers didn’t even try to capture us – they got lost in their bloodlust and killed most of my village. This,” she looked down at the dead human slaver, “beast, captured me and has kept me for himself.”
Dhamkeakrux broke the shackles around her ankles that kept her bound to the wall. “A green dragon – here; that confirms what my friend, Obokld here,” Obokld waved his hand to the female kobold, “had heard. We were looking for evidence of that. Dragon activity has been on the rise and we need to know why. But for now, let’s get you out of here.”
Together, the three of them had escaped, but it was only a few short days later, that the slaver’s deceased body had been found by one of Endigax’s patrol. Endigax demanded that the murderer of her slaver be found and brought before them.
A human witch was brought in – she used her ancient magic on the shackles – she could see the female Kobold… and the slaver an what he did with her… she shuddered… then saw through the female Kobold’s eyes… another two kobolds… one jumped on the slaver and cleaved into his chest… then broke the female of her shackles… The witch stood up, and nodded. “I have a vision of him. It will take some time but I should be able to track him down.”
In the meantime, the weeks that followed, the female Kobold named Oellafin, confused her love to Dhamkeakrux and the two were officially wed by Dhamkeakrux’s tribe elder. Though Dhamkeakrux continued to scout for more information on dragon activity, coming home to Oellafin was something he’d always looked forward to.
That happiness came to a startling end when the alarms in the village rang and Dhamkeakrux ran outside and saw a large figure flying in the distance coming for them. Endigax, no doubt, Dhamkeakrux told himself and quickly rushed inside and told Oellafin to go with Obokld, and that he would help hide her.
The large figure had indeed been Endigax, and Dhamkeakrux was ready to fight the army that so faithfully followed the green dragon. Flying into a rage, he and several other warriors from the village remained behind to buy time for the others to escape. Dhamkeakrux had put up a grand fight, but was eventually struck from behind by a mace and fell forward into the blood soaked mud. The fighting continued all around him before he lapsed into unconsciousness.
Dhamkeakrux was surprised to awaken in the crusty mud, and as he slowly pulled himself up, he could see the sun rising in the distance. Most of the blood soaked mud had hardened, telling him that he may have been unconscious for several days. Bodies of both his fellow warriors, and the warriors of Endigax’s army lay all around him. He tried to stand – his arms shook – he was still dizzy and weak. He eventually managed to stand and knew this was far from over. He’d need to find others to help fight not only Endigax – but the other dragons he’d heard rumors about.
Whit;24604175 wrote:
Tawmis here is my new character if you have time
Phaemus Songbinder
Dragonborn Male gold
Bard Valor strength Charisma based
Instrument/fire breathing/singing skills
Acrobatics athletics persuasion performance deception
I enjoyed writing this one. A bit therapeutic for me, emotionally too.
The Knight mentioned is a reference to two Dragonlance Knights - Huma and Sturm. (The name Huma reversed, and Sturm's last name with acronyms). Even the death is a reference similar to Sturm's.
The initial opening song is a reference to Blind Guardian's "The Bard's Song - In the Forest" which I simply kept on repeat as I wrote this for inspiration and mood setting.
The other bard who appears, has appeared in other people's origins I've written. Sort of suggesting a "Tawmis-Verse" of connected characters.
Hope you enjoy and would love feedback in this thread, as it keeps it bumped and alive!
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The scales of Phaemus Songbinder glittered as the flames in the fireplace seemed to dance to his song, and the patrons of the “Lion’s Pride” all listened intently. “Hear my song, about the dawn of the night, For tomorrow will take us away, Far from home, And no one will ever know our names, Only this song, To tell the tales of brave men, Who lived far from here! The setting sun, the fallen son, the dawn of the night, the dawn of the knight, for tomorrow will take us away, far from home, and no one will ever know our names! Tomorrow will take us away!”
Phaemus strummed his talons across the lap harp for the final chord. For a brief moment there was silence, before the entire tavern erupted into cheer. Patrons approached him and placed coin in his pouch that he had open at his feet.
A young child approached him and tugged on his sleeve. “I want to be like you when I grow up,” the human girl smile. She was no older than five years old, by human standards. “Will my skin glow and flicker like yours?”
“No,” Phaemus smiled. “But your eyes will. They are as blue as the seas of Avashore, and your hair is as golden as the rising sun. You will not need this,” he pulled up the sleeve that she’d tugged on, revealing his golden scales. “You will shine on your own, just the way you are.” He ran his hand across her hair on the top of her head, purposely messing it up.
“Quite the tale, that last song,” a human standing behind the girl, had said, as the girl ran away singing.
Phaemus looked up and saw a strong looking male human, arms folded across his chest, the neck of a lute peering from behind him, like a sword strapped to his back. “I apologize if this is normally your tavern for playing,” Phaemus stood.
The human smiled. “Nonsense. I was traveling through the town and stopped for food and drink and heard that this was a good place for that.” He extended his hand, “My name is Tyrell Stormshadow. I wanted to ask you about that last song. It seemed very personal. I could tell that it meant something to you.”
Phaemus was quiet for a moment, before he looked at the human. “It was very personal. The Knight in the song was a good friend of mine named Amuh Lightsteel.”
“I would like to hear the tale of your friend,” Tyrell said as he sat down.
Phaemus took a deep breath. It had happened years ago, but in his mind, it felt as if it had just happened. His song was how he honored Amuh.
“Amuh and I were best friends,” Phaemus began. “Inseparable,” he smiled at a distant memory. “He did not care that I was different. As children he saw me inside, rather than outside. Many times, he stood up for me and fought for me when others might say something about me. He was always the one that was ready to fight – me, I was never much of a fighter. I wanted to sing, write, and tell stories. He was the strength and I was the heart. His spunk got him noticed, and he was recruited into the Knighthood when he was sixteen. We remained close, but the Knights were often sending him on missions as a squire. He quickly proved himself quite capable with a sword and once saved the Knight he’d been a squire for from goblins who had ambushed them.”
Phaemus paused. “We saw less and less of each other, but when we did get the chance to see one another, it was as if no time had passed. We both became the children we were growing up, laughing and poking fun at each other.”
“One day, there was news of a green dragon having attacked a village, and Amuh was called to go help the villagers. I begged Amuh not to go, because I had a very bad feeling about this. But Amuh… he was so headstrong… and he even said, if he died fighting a green dragon, saving people, then there was no more honorable way to perish.” Phaemus shook his head. “My songs had gotten into his head, apparently and he thought a heroic death would be the best way to go.”
“Several weeks later, the squadron that Amuh had been a part of, finally returned. One hundred men left, six returned. News of the death and destruction quickly spread. I found out from one of the survivors the exact location of the village and quickly purchased a horse and rode there. I never stopped riding. I traded my horse in each town for another, just so I could keep riding. When I got to Azzatan, the village that had been attacked… I… could not believe what I’d seen. Buildings still burning. The smell of death lingered like a heavy fog. As I made my way through the village, I was stepping over countless dead - villagers and knights alike… but then I found him. Amuh was standing at the top of a ballista that had been brought to slay the dragon – and the spear fired from the ballista had been run through Amuh instead. He’d died here, a hero, trying to save people… but the Knights who returned… they couldn’t even bring back all of their dead. He died, nameless, on a ballista. He was just another name, when the other battalions came to recover the bodies, and bury the dead. The Knight Commander just read down the list of names. And that was it. He was just one of the many who died. So now, I travel around and sing about him, as my way of honoring him.”
Tyrell smiled. “He never died,” the older human smiled. He placed his hand on Phaemus’ chest, just above his heart. “You have kept him alive.”