SHP Forums

Hmm... may I ask for a non-serious one?

Graz'nie the Incautious, a 1st-level dwarven Barbarian.
STR 14
DEX 10
CON 16
WIS 14
INT 10
CHA 12
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral.

My thoughts about him: Graz'nie is the type of Barbarian to rush forward and use his Rage ability at almost every opportunity. (Obviously, this gets him into trouble more often than most). Graz'nie doesn't care much for rules (especially when they restrain his ability to seek out troublemakers), or the ethical restraints of good and evil.

More seriously, Graz'nie's lack of caution has led him in the past to trip a trap or two (mostly of the embarrassing rather than lethal kind). Hopefully this will lead him to learn caution, but if not - oh, boy ...

(By the way, the name is a bit of a pun - "grazed knee", indeed!)

Hope you enjoy the challenge of making something out of him. I don't know much about dwarven clans.

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=286

Great Dragon;24064158 wrote:(Bronze) Dragonborn (m) Vengeance Paladin of Bahamut. (Self)Convinced that Tiamat and her Spawn must be destroyed....

So I wanted a reason why this Dragonborn was a Vengeance Paladin... to me, these are the Paladins that have seen some really horrible things.
And since you specified Tiamat, I thought, "This is another chance to use Emereth, the Ancient Green Dragon" who has appeared in other stories.
And then it donned on me. I had written a background that talks about Emereth attacking (and destroying) the city of "Night's Bane" here and here. I suddenly had the missing piece to those backstories; a reason why Emereth attacked Night's Bane. Expanding the ever growing "Tawmis-Verse" I have going here!
As always, please leave feedback - good or bad - I want to hear it.
Enjoy!
==============================================

Chaos. Destruction. Murder.

This is all Dourne saw before him as he gazed at the former glory of the city known as Night’s Bane. Dourne, a Paladin of Vengeance belonging to the Talons of Justice, was a Bronze Dragonborn, whose unique bronze colored scales reflected the carnage of Night Bane’s skeletal remains.

Dourne had been tracking down Emereth for months; whenever he got close, she would take flight, destroy everything in her path to slow him down; and press on twice as hard. She wasn’t running from him and Dourne knew as much. This was all a game to her. She enjoyed that a Paladin of Bahamut was “out to get her.” To her it was a pleasant game where she would let him get close; and each time he did, she proved she was not afraid by taking her time to destroy every town that was in front of her, knowing he would stop to assist those in need and simultaneously witness the sheer power she possessed.

He realized the more he chased her, the more she destroyed; but to give up now and allow her to live after all she’s done was something Doune could not do. Emereth was just one of many who served the five headed Queen, Tiamat. Emereth was an ancient Green Dragon; there were others that Dourne was aware of; Krymoore the Red, an ancient red dragon; Boltaar the Blue, an ancient blue dragon; Chakhul the Black, an ancient black dragon; and Krystaan the White, an ancient white dragon. These five were Tiamat’s most active weapons on the mortal plane.

Dourne continued riding on; but he heard people screaming and crying. Dead bodies littered the sidewalks. He tilted his head and listened closely and heard sounds coming from the nearby collapsed tower. He began pulling the rubble away and helped a human, who thanked him and introduced themselves as Mahal; and by the appearance looked to be one of the desert dwellers.

It was that moment, another voice – and by the looks of it, also a desert dweller, but more barbaric looking and wearing different symbols - asked, “What happened here?”

“Emereth,” the human replied, matter-of-factly, as if that should explain everything.

“What is a ‘Emereth’,” the barbarian, Little Sun, asked. “I was up on a vantage point and saw something enormous flying this way.”

“Emereth is not a thing,” the human named Mahal said, looking at Little Sun. It’s then Little Sun noticed what appeared to be tooth marks on the human’s right hand. “Emereth is an ancient green dragon who must pay for what she’s done.”

“I am tracking down Emereth as well,” Dourne nodded as he whistled for his war horse.

“Then perhaps our paths will cross again,” Mahal politely nodded to Dourne.

Dourne remained for three more days in Night’s Bane helping rescue those trapped beneath the rubble and providing security for the handful of survivors who now feared attacks from nearby goblins. It was another week before Dourne had picked up Emereth’s path once again. It was as if she grew tired of waiting and wreaked havoc on another city, circling above it for an additional day, until her ancient eyes spotted the all too familiar figure on horseback riding towards the destruction.

It was another year of this cat and mouse game; when suddenly Emereth came to rest on a mountain cliff side, rather than fly away as she’d usually done. She seemed to be waiting now for Dourne to scale the mountain. Dourne found a path up the mountain side and pushed his war horse, Cloudrunner, as fast and far as she could before they were forced to make a rest.

Beyond exhausted, Dourne tried to stay awake and keep an eye on Emereth who wasn’t even looking in his direction; but despite his best efforts the shadows of darkness and sleep washed over him. He awoke, with a start, to the loud beating of wings. He looked up and saw Emereth diving directly for him, her massive talons outstretched. He reached for his weapon knowing it would be too late at the speed she was flying, but then a shadow passed in front of him, and he saw Cloudrunner run between him and Emereth, and ancient green dragon’s talons wrapped around Cloudrunner who let out a painful cry as Emereth veered upward, once she was high enough, although disappointed she had not grabbed this Dragonborn, grabbing his steed would be sufficient. From the great height she released her hold on Cloudrunner and forced Dourne to watch as his terrified steed let out a scream and fell to her death upon the jagged rocks.

Emereth was pleased with the pain she’d inflicted on her pursuer and felt rejuvenated to continue the game of cat and mouse; she laughed triumphantly as she flew away again…

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=297

AH0098;24065755 wrote: 1st
Name: Carmyar Aldaron
Race: Moon Elf
Gender: Male
Class: Fighter
Background: City guard
Personality: I am kind to the innocent and I hate bullies. I care for my friends and doing what is right.
Ideals: The weak must be guarded. The light must be protected against the dark. There is beauty in all things in life. My first thought is usually the right one, regardless of what anyone else thinks.
Bonds: My sister is everything to me.
Flaws:. I'm quick to make decisions and can be uncharacteristic of an Elf and I don't like to take long to thing about things.
Notes: His best friend growing up was his sister Sylfiel. He went to train in melee combat and chose to serve in the city guard of Silverymoon, against his parents' wishes. He and his sister are the youngest siblings out of four children. A large family by Elf standards. He can be brash at times and weilds a Greatsword, not a typical Elf weapon.

This was fun writing a "different kind of elf" who didn't have the common "elf like traits"...
And because his ties into his sister's I am going to do something fun!
So for now here's Carmyar...!
Please give any feedback you might have! I tried to get all the points you wanted!
Enjoy!
===========================================

The Gem of the North.

That is the title many give the city of Silverymoon. Despite the city strongly resembling the Elven City, Myth Drannor, the majority of Silverymoon’s population was human, followed by Elves, then Half-Elves, then Dwarves, and finally Halflings and Gnomes. This mixture of races in Silverymoon made it a place where people would gather for peace and discuss matters of the world.

Another aspect for which Silverymoon was known for was its tradition of embracing magic. It had been home to many notable wizards, sorcerers and other Mages, with a very long history of Mages being the leaders of the great city.

One of Silverymoon’s most unique and well known structures is the Moonbridge, which was an invisible bridge that connected the two sections of Silverymoon; the Northbank and Southbank, spanning above River Rauvin.

This was my home.

My name is Carmyar Aldaron and I am a Moon Elf unlike any you might have seen.

I come from a family of four siblings, with myself, and my sister, Sylfel , whom I am the closest with. Even at a young age, I knew my sister was destined for something great. She was always reading, studying, knew history, and things of the world that I had never heard of. Of course, this had made her a target in our youth, of those who were envious of my sister’s knowledge.

My other two siblings had said that Sylfel will learn to defend herself; but Sylfel loathed violence. I found myself stepping between her and those who would seek to tease her. I was brash and often didn’t care about deescalating a situation. To me, Sylfel was my sister and the best way to teach anyone a lesson is to simply fight and beat them. You beat one person down in front of witnesses, the others get the clue that they shouldn’t pick on my sister.

During one such instance, a human named Garithal Stonemight thought to pick on my sister as I was coming back from applying to the City Guard. He had cornered my sister and shouting at her about knowing too much and making everyone else look bad.

I stepped between them. “Is there a problem here?” I asked calmly.

“This isn’t your fight, Elf,” was Garithal’s retort.

“On the contrary,” I smiled, “this is very much my fight. You see, this is my sister. And if you have a problem with her, you have a problem with me.”

I saw Garithal pull back his arm, ready to punch and I smiled. His punch came in slow motion as I watched it coming for me. I easily side stepped his swing and gave a hard punch to the back of his elbow; not enough to break it, but I could have, had I wanted to; but enough to make it so he would not be able to bend his elbow for weeks, if not a month a two.

Garithal, a student wizard who couldn’t make intricate movements with his arms, was someone who wasn’t going to pass the upcoming test. I leaned over and said loud enough for the others who were observing to hear me, “I could have sundered your elbow into a thousand pieces with that punch, had I wanted to. This is the first and only lesson I am giving you,” I looked at the others who had been observing Garithal and not stepping up to stop him, “and all of you. If one of you so much as ever threatens my sister again, I will not be so forgiving. I will not ask for confirmation as I know all of you speak Common.”

I stood and grabbed my sister’s hand and slowly left the scene, leaving them in stunned silence.

As I said, I am not like any Elf you might have seen. Protecting my sister was everything to me and was easily a trigger point.

My application to the City Guard was accepted several weeks after that. Within the City Guard we learned to use an assortment of weapons. As they said, “You never know when you might be disarmed. Knowing how to use any weapon available to you may save your life.”

My weapon of preference was easily the Great Sword. Heavier, but more durable, the damage inflicted with it was tremendous and therapeutic when I struck the test dummies.

“Wouldn’t you prefer a Long Sword,” my captain, a Half-Elf named Terryn Highskies, said. “Our kind is typically quite good with them.”

“Our kind?” I laughed, knowing he was a Half-Elf. Terryn had been kind to me, as an older Half-Elf, he had seen quite a bit. Though his appearance made him look pure Elf, the thin grey beard adorned on his face clearly marked him as having human blood. He never spoke of his human father, so I don’t think he was in the picture much when it came to Terryn’s life. “Truth be told, I am more the hit it hard and be done type. I don’t want to dance around something.” I laughed, knowing that Terryn would understand I was referencing the common misconception that Elves walked on air when they fought.

Then one night, everything changed for me.

There was an explosion that rocked the Northbank and immediately all of the City Guard responded. As we arrived, the Darius Tower was reduced to rubble and a fire burned out of control. Almost immediately Wizards also descended upon the ruins of the Darius Tower and began using spells to try and control, reduce and extinguish the fire, while the City Guard looked through the rubble for survivors. Thankfully, everyone had been in the Training Hall, which was reinforced (because students just learning magic could be rather destructive), but even that had taken severe damage. Amazingly, there were only minor wounds, a few broken bones, an a few small burns; but overall, everyone had survived.

One person was missing from the class, however. My eyes frantically scanned the area for Sylfel, my sister. But she was nowhere to be found. I grabbed one of the students, a young Halfling named Nafar Bubbletoes. “Where is Sylfel?”

“Sylfel?” he asked, peering into my furious eyes. “She’s the one that did this.”

“What?” I dropped Nafar. “What do you mean she did this? She’d never do this!”

“She started screaming, saying her body was burning up,” Nafar straightened his robes, “then the next thing we know a massive explosion and down comes the tower. Thank the gods the training hall is…”

I didn’t finish listening to Nafar; instead I ran outside and began scanning the crowd and that’s when I saw her running away. I pushed my way through the crowd and once we cleared those gathered around the ruins of Darius tower; I called out, “Sylfel! Stop!”

Sylfel turned, her eyes brimming with tears.

I ran up to her and hugged her, thankful she was alive. I pulled back and wiped away the ash on her face. “What happened back there?”

“I was just practicing a simple fireball spell, when suddenly my whole body felt like it was on fire,” she cried, “and I lost control.” She wept madly. “I can feel it in me… there’s so much magic… but I can’t seem to grasp it… control it… It’s surging in me like an emotional storm.”

She looked at me, pleading. “They will come for me. They will arrest me.” She pointed at the City Guard crest I wore.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I have always been there to protect you. Tonight is no different. We must get out through the front gates now, before information about what happened makes it to the City Guard. We will leave tonight and make a new life for each other.”

“What of the family,” she started.

“Stop,” I placed my finger on her lips. “It’s always been you and I. It always will be. Now come.”

In the chaos of the night, we managed to avoid the City Guard patrols, because I knew their patterns, and escaped out a secret passage near the front gate, that the City Guard would use to leave the city and attack those who would rush the front gates from behind.

Tonight, our lives would be changed forever.

But one thing will never change. I will always be here for my sister.

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=299

AH0098;24065755 wrote: 2nd
Name: Sylfel Aldaron
Race: Moon Elf
Gender: Female
Class: Wild Magic Sorcerress
Background: Noble
Personality: I love to explore new things. I am curious about all things in life and magic. I am slow to start talking, but once I do I am the life of the party.
Ideals: You must enjoy life in order to fully experience it.
Bonds: My brother Carmyar is my life.
Flaws:. I can't resist understanding something magical
Notes: She was studying arcane magic in Silverymoon, but a magical accident happened when her wild magic manifested. She was spirited away by her twin brother immediately after the accident and now they adventure together.

And now things from the dear sister's point of view...
I think I changed all the pronouns where they needed to be changed... I might have missed some! But I think I got them all!
As always, would love to hear any feedback!
Enjoy!
===========================================
The Gem of the North.

That is the title many give the city of Silverymoon. Despite the city strongly resembling the Elven City, Myth Drannor, the majority of Silverymoon’s population was human, followed by Elves, then Half-Elves, then Dwarves, and finally Halflings and Gnomes. This mixture of races in Silverymoon made it a place where people would gather for peace and discuss matters of the world.

Another aspect for which Silverymoon was known for was its tradition of embracing magic. It had been home to many notable wizards, sorcerers and other Mages, with a very long history of Mages being the leaders of the great city.

One of Silverymoon’s most unique and well known structures is the Moonbridge, which was an invisible bridge that connected the two sections of Silverymoon; the Northbank and Southbank, spanning above River Rauvin.

This was my home.

My name is Sylfel Aldaron and I am a Moon Elf who thrived on magic until one day, everything changed.

I come from a family of four siblings, with myself, and my brother, Carmyar, whom I am the closest with. Even at a young age, I knew my brother would always be there for me. He was always stepping in for me if someone had something ill to say towards me. He possessed no fear that I could see and acted very differently than my parents. My parents, like most Elves would sit and ponder choices and the consequences of each choice for hours on end; my brother was not like that. He acted and acted quickly, which my parents frowned upon saying his behavior was “too human like.” When we were young, my brother had witness the City Guard breaking up a riot and expressed interest in joining, which my parents were against. Though the City Guard had Elves in their numbers, our parents believed that the City Guard would lead to trouble. This naturally did not stop my brother.

I was nothing like my brother, and perhaps that is why we had connected. While my brother was brash and secure in who he was; I was timid, shy, and quiet. My brother enjoyed being outside and wrestling with friends, while I would much rather read about the local history of Silverymoon, which was quite extensive. One thing that had caught my attention reading about the long history of Silverymoon was the predominate mages who were leaders and how Silverymoon was known for its Mage Schools. This naturally got me interested in learning more about magic.

My mother was proud of me; she’d once trained in Silverymoon as well, before giving up the life of being a Wizard. I was surprised that my own mother had once practiced magic since she never made any signs of displaying it and she never spoke of it. As I looked into the history of my family’s bloodline there had been an odd gap in the history books, missing nearly hundred years on my mother’s side for her bloodline. When I asked her about it, she shrugged it off and said that the documents that detailed that part of her family’s bloodline had been lost in a great fire that burned down the Library that held those documents. I felt like she might be holding something from me but I am not sure why my mother would lie to me.

With her reputation as formerly being a wizard, she got me in a school held at the Darius Mage Tower, where she had once been a student a long, long, time ago.

The teacher a female elf by the name of Hawk Windblade immediately recognized me. “You look like your mother. It’s a shame that she discontinued her learning. She had a natural ability to wield magic.”

I discovered that understanding magic came very easily to me; as it had with my mother. I would study only once and grasp what I needed to learn and quickly excelled in the class. This unfortunately drew ire from some of my fellow classmates, one of them in particular, a human named Garithal Stonemight.

Thankfully, my brother had been returning from applying with the City Guard when he happened to be walking by. Garithal had cornered me against a wall and yelling at me about how I am making everyone else look bad; abhorring violence I said nothing to him.

My brother, Carmyar, however enjoyed a good fight. He stepped between us and calmly asked, “Is there a problem here?”

“This isn’t your fight, Elf,” was Garithal’s retort.

“On the contrary,” my brother smiled, “this is very much my fight. You see, this is my sister. And if you have a problem with her, you have a problem with me.”

I watched as Garithal pull back his arm, ready to punch and saw my brother smile. My brother easily side stepped Garithal’s swing and gave a hard punch to the back of his elbow; not enough to break it but enough to make it so he would not be able to bend his elbow for weeks, if not a month a two.

I let out a gasp, hearing the bone pop loudly.

Garithal, a student wizard who couldn’t make intricate movements with his arms, was someone who wasn’t going to pass the upcoming test. My brother leaned over and said loud enough for the others who were observing to hear, “I could have sundered your elbow into a thousand pieces with that punch, had I wanted to. This is the first and only lesson I am giving you,” He shot a cold, cruel, sneering look at the others who had been observing Garithal and not stepping up to stop him, “and all of you. If one of you so much as ever threatens my sister again, I will not be so forgiving. I will not ask for confirmation as I know all of you speak Common.”

He stood and grabbed my hand and we slowly left the scene, leaving them in stunned silence.

Not surprisingly, Garithal was not at the next few classroom sessions and wisely had not reported what happened to his arm to his parents. He had brushed it off as falling down the stairs at the Darius Mage Tower and banging it against the wall.

For the final test, we were asked to cast spells – each more intricate than the last, earning more points the more difficult the spell. The moment we did not pull off the spell correctly, that’s where our points ended.

Most of the students had played it safe, keeping to lower level spells, such as Magic Missile and a few others. I could feel the magic coursing in my body. I went from Magic Missile; to Disguise Self; to Invisibility (which no one had tried), then to Fireball.

I heard Nafar Bubbletoes behind me, “She’s going for a powerful spell… we haven’t even learned that one in the class yet… what is she doing?”

That’s when something went wrong.

As I began weaving the spell for Fireball, my entire body began to burn.

It became hard to breathe. Sweat began pouring down from my forehead.

The flames; they were in my eyes… my heart… my soul…

Then there was an intense white flash and heat.

A deafening explosion.

When it was done, I stood in the center of the Darius Mage Training Hall, covered in ash and rubble all around me. I glanced around and the explosion’s center was around me.

I looked and heard several of my fellow students coughing. I heard Hawk calling out for people.

What had I done?

How had this happened?

A surge of panic filled my soul as I immediately ran up the shattered remains of the stone stairs and forcibly crawled my way out of the rubble. The entire Darius Mage Tower had come crumbling down. Crowds were gathering, people were trying to put out the fire, people were moving the rubble, screaming for survivors; I could hear the City Guard’s alarm and the descending Mages all around me casting spells to try to control the fire and begin using magic to remove the rubble.

I panicked and began running with no real idea where I was going … Where I would go. Away. Far, far away.

Then a familiar voice called out. “Sylfel! Stop!”

My brother – Carmyar! I turned, my eyes brimming with tears.

He ran up to me and hugged me, thankful I was alive. He pulled back and wiped away the ash on my face. “What happened back there?”

“I was just practicing a simple fireball spell, when suddenly my whole body felt like it was on fire,” I cried, “and I lost control.” I wept madly. “I can feel it in me… there’s so much magic… but I can’t seem to grasp it… control it… It’s surging in me like an emotional storm.”

I looked at me, pleading. “They will come for me. They will arrest me.” I pointed at the City Guard crest I wore.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I have always been there to protect you. Tonight is no different. We must get out through the front gates now, before information about what happened makes it to the City Guard. We will leave tonight and make a new life for each other.”

“What of the family,” I had started to ask.

“Stop,” he placed his finger on my lips. “It’s always been you and I. It always will be. Now come.”

In the chaos of the night, we managed to avoid the City Guard patrols, because he knew their patterns, and escaped out a secret passage near the front gate, that the City Guard would use to leave the city and attack those who would rush the front gates from behind.

Tonight, our lives would be changed forever.

But one thing will never change. My brother will always be here for me.

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=306

Falcos;24066186 wrote:Alright then!
-throws down a gauntlet-
Sun-worshipping conquistador Vampire from a different Plane Shift book, this time, https://media.wizards.com/2018/download ... ixalan.pdf
These vampires are not vulnerable to sunlight, and are colonizing various new landmasses for the glory of Torrezon and the Legion of Dusk.
Mine is a Bard, the one who drums the marching beat for the soldiers.
And they might have accidentally found themself in a different setting altogether.
Very much a colonial mindset, "We are in the right", etc.

This was another one I wasn't at all familiar with (again, having not played MTG which all of this was based out of).
This would be like my "B.S. Assignment Turn In" - where I just wrote blabbering words that came to me, that fit to the world...
And hopefully, what you were wanting.
I did feel disconnected from this, only because of the unusual characteristics of it, but still enjoyed the challenge it represented.
Hopefully you get some enjoyment and can use some of what I presented!
Enjoy!
===================================
The Immortal Sun.

Once, long ago, the Immortal Sun was entrusted to us.

The Immortal Sun is rumored to be the most powerful artifact in all of Ixalan. It promised such things as boundless wealth, strength of empires, and command over nature, among other such rumored powers. But there is one that I, and the others of the Legion of Dusk seek; Eternal Life.

I am, like almost all the others in the Legion of Dusk, a vampire. While it’s true, as Vampires we were “Immortal” but the Immortal Sun promised something different. As Vampires our immortality was through this state of being undead; but the Immortal Sun promised our lives restored and the opportunity to properly live eternally.

I have marched with the Legion of Dusk for several years now; only recently having been turned when my employer, Harru Fallenstar, a noble, was turned during the Rite of Redemption. My former employer, Harru Fallenstar continued to hold his position in the political office.

The rest of his household was turned as well, joining the Legion of Dusk in their conquest across the land and our desperate search for the Immortal Sun. My bardic skills were assigned to the Nightfang division; a group of Paladins who fed only on the guilty: enemies of war, rebels of the state, and heretics who defy the Church of Dusk.

As a part of the Nightfang our primary goal was to sail around Ixalan in search of the Immortal Sun. We turned those who were willing to join our case and killed those who refused to be turned and might one day strike or speak against the Legion of Dusk. As a result of that we left a long trail of blood every time we made port somewhere.

One of the fellow Nightfang was a Condemner, who like her fellow Nightfang brethren, punished those who did not recognize the authority of the Church. But Melara ‘Mel’ Bloodstone specialized in something called Shade-Binding, in which she would magically bind Shades, sometimes called Revenants which magical bracers to guard the ship we were on. Mel had just finished dealing with a rebellious Revenant as she sat down. The ship, a long, broad and powerful boat called The Shadow Walker lurched in the swelling tides.

“You all right, Mel,” I asked as I sat down next to her.

Mel, her face pale, like the rest of the vampires looked even paler than normal. “I’ll be fine,” she said, though her voice did not exude the confidence of the statement.

“I know this isn’t your first sea mission. You’ve been a part of the Nightfang for a very long time, as I understand it,” I said as I sat next to her, placing my drums to one side.

Mel laughed, “It’s got nothing to do with feeling ill because of the sea,” she confessed. “I just don’t trust the information given to us by the Spitfire Bastion.”

“Ripley knows better than to cross us,” I said, tapping on my drums lightly.

“And Ripley has ever reason to lie to us,” Mel remarked. “The Spitfire Bastion is ruled by the Brazen Coalition which is an organization that’s also seeking the Immortal Sun and have direct conflict with us, as the Legion of the Dusk. They want the Immortal Sun because they believe it can take them back to their homeland, Torrezon.”

“The idea of some portal at the horizon,” I chuckled, “seems outlandish. And that’s coming from me, where I spent all of my life serving Harru by playing music for he and his family; and telling his many children an assortment of outlandish stories. Especially since it apparently only happens every ‘certain amount of years when the sun and moon touch.’ I admit, it sounds outlandish, but it would explain why no one has found the Immortal Sun, despite so many groups looking for it.”

As if on queue the bells in the crow’s nest began to ring. The Shadow Walker’s crew all ran to the bow of the ship. Just as the Ripley, from the Spitfire Bastion base had said; just as the sun was touching the horizon a shimmering portal seemed to open just as the sun met the moon on the horizon.

“So, this is where the Immortal Sun is hidden,” I gasped to myself. I immediately began playing the drums, pounding it to the same rhythm of the waves slamming against the Shadow Walker.

The tension escalated quickly as the Shadow Walker drew closer and closer to the portal.

“This is a trap,” Mel voiced her concern softly standing next to me.

“How is this a trap?” I asked, banging the drums joyfully. “It’s exactly what they said.”

“And that’s what worries me,” Mel gripped the edge of the ship. Beyond the portal a beautiful world could be seen.

The Shadow Walker passed through the portal and Mel watched as it closed behind them.

“This is definitely a trap,” she repeated.

The Shadow Walker docked in a massive city port, which no one on the crew recognized. As dock workers approached to help tie down the ship, several of the workers caught a glance at the crew members and panic set in.

“Vampires!” one of them called and the alarm rang. Armed guards approached the ship, weapons drawn. “By the name and honor of the Lords of Waterdeep, surrender peacefully or else be met with lethal force.”

The crew members stared at each other and smiled.

I began to beat on the drums.

Let loose the sounds of war.

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=309

moonfly7;24066759 wrote:So, my character just died. So I'm bringing in a new one:
Warforged envoy
Cleric of the forge domain
Worshipper of moradin, God of dwarves and the forge
Name: powerhammer
This wardrobes fights with a war hammer and a shield, and carries a pyroconverger, basically a flamethrower.
Moradin is the creator of dwarven kind, just about all dwarves worship him, as he crafted them from stone with his own hands. Powerhammer was made by the dwarves, specifically, the holy crafters of moradin, the most referred of all dwarven smiths. The dwarves consider him to be the natural progression of life, moradin made them from stone, and they have now made power hammer from stone. Moradin himself is immensely proud of both his people for their work, and of the warforged they made.
So, powerhammer is pretty robotic, but still sentient, but he does follow "prime directives" and a strict code set by moradin.
His prime directive is to protect what is good, defend what is right, destroy evil, and create beauty. Oh, and to protect the religion at all costs.
He's considered a dwarf by all dwarvish people, he was made in a dwarven forge, brought to life by dwarves, and follows their god. He's a dwarf in their eyes.
Also, among his prime directive, installed by the dwarves, is a secret directive given by Moradin upon his indoctrination into the church:
While others forge steel or gold, powerhammer is to forge something greater. While others temper blades and strengthen walls, he is to temper life. His directive from moradin is this: to find people who are strong, both in mind, body, and virtue, and temper them. He is to forge these worthy souls into blades harder than diamond, to stoke their fires of hope and faith, and make them into heros that will shine like polished armor in these dark days.

So yeah, that's my character. I know it's a lot, but I know you work best when you have detail. To give you some info about our game, we're currently running from a large horde of demons, undead, and dead friends brought back in a crude semblance of life to kill us. We've so far lost 4 pcs, 3 died in game, one died so someone could switch characters. The only three surviving original party members are pissed and want revenge. So, that's the darkness were facing right now. If this is too much for you, or you don't like all the info, then don't bother with it, thanks regardless!

This was fun to write!
I had never DM'ed or played a Warforged (I did not care for the Eberron game world).
But it's cool that the Warforged have carried over.
Someone else in here had a Warforged character background; so that was my first time taking a stab at that.
Naturally the Warlock mentioned comes from someone else's origin I wrote on here. I love leaving strings for DM's to tug on for additional adventure ideas.
Also if you're familiar with Dragonlance you should probably catch the reference (there's a few; two fairly obvious; one a little more hidden).
As always, please give feedback! Whether you liked it, loved it, hated it - I want to hear the honest truth!
In the meantime, enjoy!
=======================================================================

The legend states that Moradin, God of the Dwarves, was born of stone and metal and that his soul was the eternal fire that lit the furnace for which he forged the world.

I look at my hands, decorated in the blood of my enemies, flexing my fingers. I am alive, and yet I am not. I pick up my war hammer and wipe the blood of the orc lying on my feet on his tattered leathers, his skull crushed so hard that his spine had ripped out of his back.

I was born of stone and metal.

My name is Powerhammer and I am a Warforged.

I do not have a heart or organs, but inside me burns a fire that keeps me alive.

I do not need to eat, drink, breathe, or even rest. I was made by the strong and powerful Dwarven Clan known as the Embers of the Forge. It had been Moradin’s Chosen, Clerics known as Sonnlinor, who had spent months forging me into what I am now; a living weapon.

Prime Directive: Protect what is good. Defend what is right. Destroy evil. Create beauty.

The Dwarves who forged me treat me as one of their own; and though I need not drink, they designed me so that I am able to process liquid. I do not suffer from the effects of intoxication but I understand the merriment and joy.

The battle cry of another charging Orc brings me back to the present. The Red Eye Orcs have long been trouble for the Embers of the Forge. The marauding Orcs have made constant attacks on our home; their leader, an Orc Warlock named Oragin Doomhammer believes that the Embers of the Forge is hiding some great secret.

As the Orc charges, I raise my shield and bash it into him as he charges me. Stunned he falls backward, trying to regain his senses. At my side “a weapon of the forge” directly powered by the flame inside of lit up. It’s a weapon called a pyroconverger, and with a simple press of the weapon, it’s like a venomous snake spewing fire. The orc screams as his dry, crumpled leathers immediately catch fire.

As he flailed about on the floor, I picked up my war hammer and silenced him forever. The Red Eye Orcs were retreating now but they would be back. They always come back.

For tonight, we celebrated at Old Man Flint’s Fireforge, a small tavern with a tremendous amount of heart. Dwarves clanked their mugs in celebration, each describing how many orcs that they had killed tonight; and each time they repeated their version of the story, the amount of kills went up by one or two each time.

While the others celebrated, I sat in the corner. There was something wrong. I couldn’t explain it. One of the Sonnlinor had once described the sensation of “knowing something wasn’t quite right” as a sense called Instinct.

I was having an Instinct.

Despite having fought off the Red Eye Orcs, yet again, I did not find the typical satisfaction I normally felt. I could not celebrate with those who had called my “brother.”

As the night progressed, the celebrations slowly waned, and Dwarves left to stumble their way back home. Jasper’s voice awoke me from my internal thoughts as I delved into this sensation I was feeling. Jasper placed his hand on my shoulder, “Are you not going back to the Cathedral?”

I looked up at Jasper and could not answer him.

Jasper smiled warmly. “Do not worry, my friend. You are always welcome to sleep here.”

Sleep. Jasper knew I did not sleep, but when it was peaceful, I would disconnect from myself and “shut down” – similar to “sleeping.”

When Jasper blew out the last candle, I let the darkness swallow me whole.

Then I saw it; a horde of undead; a horde of demons; and brave warriors fighting against friends who had been raised as a part of this undead army.

“It is time,” I heard a voice whisper. “Your hidden prime objective is now activated.”

My eyes flared open and I found myself walking, almost uncontrollably, in the middle of the night.

This horde of demons; this horde of undead; they would pay.

I will put them down and send them to their maker.

Just as my own maker had whispered those words in my mind.

“It is time.”

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=315

Falcos;24068225 wrote:Alright, let's see you work on my absolute favourite build and give me a definitive story for it.
3.5
Dvati Race
Jade Phoenix Mage, with splashes in Wu Jen, Spellthief, and Crusader as the requirements.
I really want to focus on the eastern thematic from Wu Jen, in addition to the reincarnation from JPM and the weird twin-stuff from Dvati.
The gauntlet has been thrown, my new friend. Dare you pick it up?

Well, first, I don't think I am ever going to live up to something that is your absolute favorite build! That's going to be tough to ever capture!
Add to the fact, I don't remember the Dvati, the Jade Phoenix, Spell Thief or Crusader (only Wu Jen is familiar to me!), this proved to be quite a bit of reading to understand what each of these is and how I could possibly tie them all together. (I do miss the Oriental Adventures game my former DM, Paul M. had run for a few months of D&D 3.0/3.5).
All of that said, I did think I came up with a creative explanation about the Dvati Race for this background...
And I did manage to do the Wu Jen, Spellthief, Crusader and introduce the Jade Phoenix Mage (as from what I could tell, this would be the LAST multiclass you would actually learn because of the insane amount of requirements for it)! I feel like once I got to the trainers though; the characters began to talk to me and give me the voice they needed. But I think the unfamiliarity with the above still shows in the writing, because despite my enjoyment, I do feel like there's a slight disconnect. Hopefully not so blatant that it robs any enjoyment of the background. As I said, I did manage to enjoy writing it quite a bit, but perhaps may be missing the mark of what you were looking for!
I will stop rambling!
Hopefully - enjoy!
=====================================================
It is said that the gods forge the souls, ignite them with the fire of life, and send them to the world below to be born.

Mages have discovered other planes of existence, such as the Plane of Air, Plane of Water, just to name a few.

Some Mages even believe that there may be alternate time lines; duplicates of our world where people lead similar, or sometimes, drastically different lives.

One such Mage, a human named Nasctha, claimed she peered into another world; a mirror of our own where things were drastically different. She’d seen herself not as the great wizard she’d become, but a run down, broken barmaid in Waterdeep.

What happens when the gods of these realms forge a soul and during their descent to the mortal plane; something strikes it and sends it veering into another reality.

That is the story most believe explains what we are; the Dvati.

My name is Fee and my sister goes by the name of Nixx (or sometimes “Nixxy”).

Being Dvati has had numerous advantages. My sister and I share a bond that is unbreakable. She knows what I am thinking and I know what she’s thinking. This has worked out gloriously during our initial years of joining the Crusaders.

During the battles we were engaged in it was like having eyes on the back of my head; everything she could see I would be able to feel. We moved like fluid puppets. There was one drawback having “one soul with two bodies” – the pain inflicted on one was shared by the other.

During one of the battles, Oirthear, a wizard from the Eastern Lands took an interest in Nixx and myself and approached us about learning the Eastern form of magic called Wu Jen. Both my sister and I, perhaps because we shared one soul had always felt magic coursing in our veins. The idea of learning how to channel it immediately interested both of us.

We traveled with Oirthear to an island called Seapáin where he enforced the idea that we must find peace within our minds. We would spend hours upon hours, cross legged, arms extended, heads titled back, as if sunbathing, embracing the energy of the world and understand how to comprehend the language of the world and the energy it created. Soon, he began to teach us how the elements speak; air, earth, water, fire – they all have a unique voice and it is critical to understand them and to be able to speak with them, in order to find the way to channel them.

“Now,” Oirthear had told us, “that you understand the core concept of the elementals. There is one more you must learn.”

Both my sister and I were puzzled; as it seemed, all of our life, we’ve only ever known of air, earth, water and fire.

Oirthear seemed to take pride in our puzzled expression as he whispered, “Nature. To understand nature you must understand how the earth works; how water provides life; how fire destroys it; and how air gives us breath to live. But each can be reversed; a tidal wave destroys, a camp fire keeps us warm, a tornado leaves destruction, and the ground can bury you. Understanding all of this and the delicate balance this creates shapes what is called the Element of Nature.”

It had been a grueling six months of training and pushing our bodies beyond our physical limit; which was twice as hard for Nixx and me, since our bodies shared everything. Eventually we learned to understand the voice of Nature itself and it was exhilarating. Our training did not end there however. He then introduced us to Litrithe, a young human female, who explained that now we understood the basics of understanding the voice of earth, fire, wind, air and nature; it was time to understand the energy of magic.

Litrithe explained that we possessed the ability to read the auras of people; because everyone, even the non-magically inclined contained magic fields around them. Being able to read an enemy’s magical aurora would allow us, with proper training to read their aura and, if we could get close enough, steal the magical energies of those around us.

If we had thought Oirthear was a difficult trainer; Litrithe had made his training a distant memory as our bodies struggled to keep up. Litrithe was not afraid to use magic against us, sending us slamming against the wall if we failed to get close enough to touch her.

It took three weeks, but we finally understood why. We were not working together as we’d always been. We finally used our ability to see through one another’s eyes. We became one weapon again and used the training we had gotten from Oirthear, to shake the ground beneath her feet, use the wind to whip her hair around her, to drain the moisture from her body, and intensify the heat of the sun, while calling on insects to cause disorientation.

We were finally able to touch her and siphon her magic.

The only words we could have used to express the sensation of her magic coursing through our bodies could only be described as rebirth.

When a band of Ogres known as the Lámh Dorcha made landfall, Oirthear and Litrithe had asked us to aid them in the fight with the Ogres. They explained aboard the ship were Ogre Mages, powerful mages, despite their size and general stupidity, knew how to wield magic to their benefit. There was also something called an Ogre Howdah, which housed goblins like a mounted caravan.

During the battle against the Ogres, one of the goblins in the Ogre Howdah managed to get a lucky shot that I barely saw in time to get out of the way of. The arrow grazed the side of my head, nicking a portion of my ear. It was close enough that the arrowhead had grazed my skin and caused considerable amount of blood.

The blood from the wound had made me blind to anything to my right where my sister Nixx had been fighting. Suddenly my stomach felt as if I were being ripped apart. I doubled over and saw an Ogre running his sword through Nixx. “No!” I screamed in pain, not even able to stand. The Ogres marched over us, leaving us for dead.

My world faded away.

And to my surprise, when I opened my eyes I saw Oirthear staring back at me. “He lives,” he said with a smile as he sat down and wiped the blood away.

“It would seem you and your sister have a greater destiny at hand,” I heard Litrithe’s voice say.

My sister! I sat up and screamed in pain. “My sister! Where is she?”

“Worry not,” Litrithe smiled, “we are tending to her.”

Oirthear gently placed his hand on me and forced me to lay back down. “Rest, remember, you share your pain with your sister. If you move about you make it more difficult for our medics to tend to her wounds.”

“How is she alive? I…” I stammered, searching for the words, “I felt her die.”

“She did,” Oirthear replied sitting down next to me. “But it would seem the great sun of the sky returned her to us.”

“The great sun in the sky?” I asked, puzzled.

“The Great Sun – you may know it as a Phoenix,” he said, with a shrug. “Divine being. Resurrections. Source of life. The Life Fire.”

“You’re telling me the sun came down and picked up my sister’s soul and returned it to her body?” I could not believe it.

“Indeed,” Oirthear grinned. “When you and your sister are recovered, it would seem you have both been hand selected by the Great Sun to be a part of the Jade Phoenix Mages.”

“Jade Phoenix Mages?” I asked, confused.

“You and your sister have a greater destiny to uncover,” Oirthear replied. He chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” I looked over at him.

“How do you feel about more training?” Oirthear laughed again.

A young girl, no older than five years old, stepped in the room, with fiery red hair and eyes that seemed to be bursting with fire. “My name is Fhionnuisce,” she said in a high pitched, excited voice. “When you and your sister recover, I will show you the Path of the Jade Phoenix Mages.”

I leaned my head back on the pillow and began to question all of my life’s choices…

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=316

AH0098;24069603 wrote: Well I guess I'll have to keep trying to help channel the energy of your creative mind.

1st
Name: Vin Bodusk
Race: Human (Variant)
Gender: Male
Class: Warlock/Wizard
Background:
Personality: I thirst for knowledge, especially the Arcane.
Ideals: I broke into forbidden knowledge because I was curious, now I must keep the darkness at Bay. Everything in life is precious, I risked everything I cared about needlessly. I will not make that same mistake. I failed my family and friends expectations, I will make a better name for myself.
Bonds: I failed as a war wizard and my families expectations, I will right that wrong. I will return to protect my homeland.
Flaws: Has an insatiable thirst for Arcane knowledge.
Notes: He was studying to be a war wizard in Cormyr, and with a student broke into the forbidden section and both found forbidden knowledge and made a deal with what they found. They were expelled. He and his friend chose different paths, Vin chose to fight their patron and return to the path of practicing the Art through wizardry.

Being familiar with all of the content, I was easily able to write this.
Vin immediately presented his voice to me as he introduced me to his parents (namely his father).
And how and why he was so hungry for magic... and then along comes a pretty face and complicates things.
As always, I love leaving strings for DM's to potentially tug on...
And Bar'garius makes an appearance (and the notes are a reference to other "Tawmis-Verse" background stories that have been written)...
As always, please give feedback - I love it all (good or bad!)
Enjoy!
===============================================
Nothing worth having comes easy.

It’s something my mother has always said and my father, Donn Bodusk, one of the most reputable wizards in the city of Marsember, reminded me by repeating his stories of endless hours of studying magic to understand how it works.

“One never controls magic,” he would say. “One simply learns to channel it. Just like one does not control the wind, but can create wind mills to help channel it and use its energy.”

My father loved his similes. “Channeling magic is all in how you move your hands; your fingers are like little ballerina dancers whose delicate movements are beautiful and deliver a powerful performance.”

Another one of his favorite sayings was, “Practice does not make perfect. Only the foolish believe we can ever achieve perfection. You must always be willing to learn and push yourself to the next level. You never stop practicing. The moment you do, you have failed.”

I was expected to not only follow in my father’s steps, but as he suggested with going beyond, I was expected to surpass him. At family gatherings, or even political ones, he would speak of me as if I was already some powerful wizard, when in truth I was barely a student. When I was asked by family and guests to show off some of my “power” my father always said, “Magic is not for tricks and shows. Magic is an art that is not to be trifled with.”

That was about the only thing I was ever thankful for my father saying.

In hopes of surpassing my father, he had sent me to Suzail, the capital of Cormyr to study in the Dragon Mage Tower, one of the most prestigious Wizard colleges. It was there I had met a beautiful Elf maiden by the name Áilleacht, though most simply called her “Ally.” She had the most beautiful green eyes I’d ever seen. It reminded me of the endless vibrant trees of the King’s Forest, and her hair, a soft, strawberry blond that tended to remind me of how the Sunset Mountains would capture the setting sun and send its orange, warm rays across the land.

“Hi,” she extended her hand, “My name is Áilleacht, but everyone calls me Ally.”

I put my hand in hers and simply got lost staring into her eyes before I realized I’d been awkwardly staring at her for over a minute, still shaking her hand, and still having not introduced myself to her, “Vin,” I finally managed to rush the name from my lips. I cleared my throat and said a little more calmly as I took my hand back as inconspicuously as I could, “Vin Bodusk.”

“Bodusk,” she smiled. “You’re not related to Donn Bodusk by chance?” Her eyes fluttered, like butterfly wings.

“I am,” I sighed.

“Why do you look disappointed that I recognized your name?” Ally asked, as she leaned forward with a broad smile that reminded me of the Tun River.

I blinked and cursed my father for the endless years of similes that my brain was now programmed to think in.

I cleared my throat again, something I kept doing around her. “It’s just everyone knows who my father is. And he wants me to be like him, only better.”

“That’s quite a reputation to try and live up to,” she nodded, playfully curling her hair.

“I don’t suppose you have some famous wizardly father or mother you’re trying to live up to,” I laughed.

“No,” she admitted, “I just wanted to get away from my house. Things were… never stable there. I needed out to get away from the toxicity of my home. “

“Where are you from, if I might ask?”

“Mistwood,” she replied, matter-of-factly.

Áilleacht proved to be a wonderful distraction; but her hunger to learn how to channel magic had fed my own desire. It was no longer about ensuring I could impress my father and became more about spending time with Áilleacht, learning magic with her, and impressing her.

One night, during one of our studies, she looked at me, more seriously than she had ever before. “I found out that in the Great Library there is a Forbidden section. Apparently there are ancient tomes of magic there that detail how to unlock great power. You wouldn’t be interested in going with me and breaking in to look at them would you?”

“Break in?” I was taken aback. “Can’t we just go when the Great Library is open?”

“The Forbidden section is only available to Masters of the Order,” she explained. “It’s amazing,” she winked at me, “what my Elven hearing can pick up in a very, very quiet library. So, what about it, Son of Donn Bodusk?”

She had mentioned my father’s name intentionally to pressure me. “Fine,” I said frowning.

She had multiple skills. That became very clear once I saw how easily she’d scaled the wall (then helped me over), then managed to pick the lock on the Great Library’s window. “You seem to be a natural at this,” I commented as we climbed through the window.

“You could say I’ve had some practice,” she admitted.

“Is that why your home life was unstable?” I whispered.

“Do you really want to discuss this right now?” she looked at me and smiled.

I wished I was blind so I wouldn’t be so susceptible to her.

We moved quietly through the Great Library, avoiding the Eye Sphere that the Wizards employed when they were not present. When we reached the doors to the Forbidden section she reached into her belt and pulled out a thieves pick.

“What are you really after?” I hissed. “Is there some book you want to steal? Was I just a pawn in this whole thing?” I was both worried about getting caught and a little furious that she’d held back on me when I felt like I was a gushing river of information to her.

“I just want to learn magic, just like you,” she swore.

Inside there’d been a shelf where it looks like newly acquired books had been placed. One of the books that looked newly acquired had no dust. A note on it read, “Look for the Amakiir girl. Also a woman who calls herself the Widow of Night. Bar’garius may have escaped to Kaladesh.”

Áilleacht picked up the book and instantly we both heard, “Go on. Open it. Read it.”

“This is a bad idea,” I whispered.

Áilleacht smiled. “We will be fine.”

Opening the book caused a great smoke to appear, and from within, a thing I could only describe as some kind of horned devil appeared. “Ah,” it seemed to sigh in relief. “I was hoping someone would open the book. I grew tired of Kaladesh. Now, looking at two fine people such as yourselves, let me guess – you want to become powerful in the ways of magic?”

“Yes,” Áilleacht replied before I could say anything.

The demon smiled, “Each of you wishes the same thing. To show your parents you can be something. Become a weapon or me, the mighty Bar’garius, and that power is yours. Áilleacht, you will be able to impress your mother, now that your father has perished that you can protect her. Vin, your father will be impressed as you surpass him in power. Simply make this pact with me and it will be complete.”

When Áilleacht agreed I found myself agreeing as well, though I knew in my heart this was not right. In the following days, magic seemed to pour out of our veins; and both our fellow students as well as our mentors were impressed by the spike in magical management both Áilleacht and I had acquired.”

At the celebration of our graduation as students, my father approached me and hugged me tightly. “You are the young seed that has grown roots and whose branches have reached out further than any other! I am so proud of you, son!”

I clenched my teeth. It was gut wrenching.

That night I returned to the Great Library, using the same method I had used with Áilleacht, months ago. I was going to go speak with this demon and undo everything that I’ve been given and discovered Áilleacht was there also. Was she doing the same?

“I thank you for the power,” I heard her say.

“Ally,” I called out, which startled her. “What are you doing? We have to undo this. Give back this ‘gift’ we’ve been given. We have to send him back. I’ve been studying since we got these powers – and I know how to send him back but it will break us free of these powers!”

Áilleacht shook her head as Bar’garius, the demon who had bestowed these powers on us smiled. She frowned. “I can’t let you do that, Vin.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Áilleacht grabbed the book and Bar’garius vanished, his smoke returning to the book. “I need him to finish something. I need this power to get my revenge. I won’t let you take that from me.”

She put the bag in her backpack and fled. I could have stopped her. She knows I could have stopped her. But she also knew my emotions were too strongly attached. Despite her having hidden so much from me, I felt close to her. I heaved a deep sigh.

The next morning I confessed what Áilleacht and I had done, and that’s how we had become so powerful. I brought so much shame upon my family, I couldn’t even bare the idea of returning home and seeing the look of disappointment on my father’s face. The Mage’s Guild was furious at what we had done and that a powerful demon was back in the world thanks to us. They threatened to have me exiled to another plane as punishment, but forgave me for my youth and simply expelled me.

Now I would need to re-earn my father’s trust and honor

All I could think of was finding Áilleacht and hearing my father’s words repeatedly in my head, “Nothing worth having comes easy.”

And I've not forgotten yours, over here:
http://sierrahelp.com/forums/viewtopic. ... 691#p71691

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=323

AH0098;24069603 wrote: 2nd
Name: Maya Talael
Race: Elf, Drow
Gender: Female
Class: Rogue/Fighter Assassin
Background: Charlatan
Personality: You make sure as few people know the truth about what you think as possible. Your bounty and your survival matter the most.
Ideals: You want to be free from anyone's control, and you distrust Lloth. You refuse to be held back from success. There are truly few people worth trusting, better make sure the person the the right one before sleeping with both eyes closed.
Bonds: You owe your life to your guild, but that doesn't mean that debt is worth your life.
Flaws: You're convinced no one can fool anyone like you can.
Notes: Part of a thieves guild, just beginning her assassin career. She doesn’t remember her time before her life in the guild, but she wants out. She has no faith in Lloth, but doesn’t truly understand any other deity. She goes by the name Lorelei Darova.

This was another fun one to write. Being a Drow character, I took the opportunity to tie it into this and this origin that I had previously written; further touching upon and expanding on the "Tawmis-Verse" that continues to grow in this thread.

The character immediately spoke to me; and I left some DM strings to tug on, if this character is used.

As always, I'd love to hear ANY feedback you have (whether it be good or bad!)

In the meantime, enjoy!
=========================================================
The glass shattered and fell on the floor.

“You’re awake,” a voice said. As I turned my head, still barely able to stand, a shadowed figure stepped out of the darkness. “I was fearful that Sureena Pyre’sin lieutenant named Mí-úsáid had indeed gotten the best out of you.”

“Who are you,” I growled, attempting to sound threatening, but truth be told, could barely maintain my balance.

“My name is Scáth Rith,” the male drow elf replied.

I tried to recall what my name was to formerly introduce myself while I bought myself to recover from whatever was making my head sway. I stared at Scáth, puzzled. “Why can’t I remember my name?”

“Mí-úsáid beat you pretty badly,” Scáth replied, “she threw you down in the pit for Hook Horrors to feed on you.”

Scáth was a Drow, like me. That much was clear. I can remember what Hook Horrors are; aberrations that stood nine feet tall and weighed over three hundred pounds. Their front limbs ended in twelve inch-long razor-sharp, blade-like hooks, for which they got their name.

“Why did this Mí-úsáid beat me then throw me down the Horror Pit?” I asked, piece of my past like whispering shadows in the back of my mind. Struggling, I knelt down and began to pick up the glass I had knocked over when I had suddenly sat up. Holding the pieces of the shattered vase I realized that the vase was a symbol of my memory. Fractured and destroyed. Piecing it all back together would be impossible and it would never be the same again.

“If it helps,” Scáth replied, setting his hand on mine, “your name is Maya Talael. You were a part of Sureena’s battalion. When a Drow slave named Draz’ture Tal’shore had tried to escape with a human female whom he had impregnated. You were one of the four who failed to stop the woman from escaping. Sureena gave pursuit up the chamber, but never returned. Mí-úsáid, who is blindly loyal to Sureena, took all of you in her battalion and punished you all.”

Sureena. The battalion.

“Lolth,” I managed to whisper seeing my dented armor leaning against the wall, the symbol of the Spider Queen on the front. “We served Lolth.”

“Correct,” Scáth grabbed a cup of tea and handed it to me.

“So if I was thrown into the Horror Pit, how did I end up here?” I asked taking the cup and sipping on it.

“My,” he paused to think of the right word, “organization knows when people are destined for the Horror Pit. And when someone is scheduled to be thrown down the Horror Pit that could prove useful, we poison the Hook Horrors and make them sluggish, so that we can get in there and rescue the doomed soul.”

“So you find me useful,” I asked eyeing Scáth.

“I’ve seen you fight,” Scáth confessed openly. “You move like a cat. Unlike Sureena and Mí-úsáid, you used whatever advantage you had at your disposal to win a fight. You were not bound by this ‘sense of honor’ that they felt. I could tell you never truly believed ‘in the cause.’ And truth be told,” he added, “I,” then paused, and amended; “we need more people like you.”

“What is this ‘organization’ that you speak of,” I asked.

“It’s called The Saoirse,” he explained. “We may be Drow, but those who are a part of the Saoirse believe that Lolth is deceiving us. She is using us as tools for a greater game for her own cause but will immediately discard us once she’s reached her end goal. We are trying to find those of like mind to join our rebellion.”

“Does this ‘rebellion’ have a specialty,” I asked, sensing more to what Scáth was sharing.

“We … acquire information,” Scáth confessed. “If we happen to acquire anything else along the way, then so be it.”

“So then what use do you have for me? I am no thief,” I said, finishing my cup of tea and setting it down.

“You’re more than that,” Scáth replied, “or you can be. With your skill and grace, you can be trained to be something more than just a mercenary or a fighter.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Sometimes, removing someone from a seat in an office can be just what we need,” Scáth smiled.

“You want me to be an assassin?” I had nearly laughed, if not for the spinning sensation still tickling the back of my mind.

“I’ve seen you fight,” he repeated, “and your grace… Remove the armor from you and you will truly be someone to be fear. The armor protected you against the enemy but it also stopped you from reaching your true potential. The Saoirse will train you to be what you were destined to be.”

“And who is it you would have me kill?” I asked.

“A revered priestess of Lolth named Sagart,” Scáth explained, pausing only for a moment to explain, “She is my sister.”

I raised an eyebrow. I had not expected that. “This Sagart is your sister?”

“Yes,” he replied solemnly. “As the High Priestess she picks who gets to ascend to Lolth’s honor. Those who ascend are given a test by Lolth herself. One of the people she picked, hoping to bring greater honor to our family was my younger brother. He failed. He was cast back down to the Mortal Realm from Lolth’s domain as one of the cursed Driders. I found him on the outskirts of Rúnda, where we live, and he was … no longer there mentally. Driven mad by what he’d become. He doesn’t even recognize me anymore. I’ve since chained him like a feral animal and go by to feed him so that he does not wander around the Underdark and get him killed. I want my sister killed for what she’s done.”

I felt like there might be more to this, but I agreed on the account that Scáth had saved my life.

“Here,” he said, handing me documentation. “I’ve created a new identity for you. You will go by Lorelei Darova. Avoid the battalion and you should be fine. Are you ready for some training?”

I noticed that I was feeling better after drinking the tea; and the thought crossed my mind that perhaps Scáth had poisoned me and fed me lies and that the cure to the toxin was in the tea itself, so that he could sway me.

I would accept his proposition to be trained as an assassin; and wondered if I would be coming after him if I learned the truth.

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=324

CollectorOfMyst;24071470 wrote: I run a sort of 'Age of Exploration' campaign. That being, there are rudimentary guns and cannons, the players own a ship, and it takes place in a sort of archipelago (a group of islands). Scattered about this archipelago are twelve characters that function as a player would, and can be recruited to the ship. At present, nine of these characters are complete in that I know who they are and who they used to be. Three of them are in varying stages of completion. I can say that having someone help patch those gaps would be a great help, so anything you (or indeed, anyone else) can offer would be a godsend.

The campaign takes place across several islands. There are two 'superpower' nations - the Kingdom of Aeros, and the Empire of Kyralia. Both of these two nations have several vassal states, and there is tension between the two, because as if two nations could exist in D&D without nearly being at war with each other. The recruits come from various powerful factions; the Cardinal Orthodoxy, the religious group of the isles; the Ambrose Academy, the university and council of mages (wizards, warlocks, sorcerers); the Blackthorn Mercenary Company, based in Aeros; and the Outcast's Charter, a former thieves' guild now trying to do some good in the world. There's also an unknown group called the Coterie, which puts up a front of being a group of people who want to improve the world and the relations between the two nations - but is truly seeking power in various ways. The players themselves are essentially a group of wanderers thrown together by chance, standard stuff.


Race: Drow | Class: Druid, Circle of the Shepherd | Alignment: True Neutral | Age: 2000~ | Faction: Cardinal Orthodoxy

Xavier, as a character, defies most normal rules of the druid - narratively, he has already attained a 'Timeless Body' - he will live for over seven thousand years. For balance, he is only level 3 (I've coded this as 'he's out of practice'. He is known to the general public as the Sage; to most, the Sage is a mysterious figure, as though he is a prominent figure in the Faith, he remains an independent entity. Only a select few, most of them in the Inner Circle of the Orthodoxy, know who he is. There are 'good' reasons for this; namely being that Drow are Kyralian by default, and heavily distrusted by most Aerosians. As the Sage, he has been the teacher and essentially bodyguard of each successive High Priest or Priestess for 1500~ years. He's also essentially a walking history book - because if you're there for most of it, you're going to know about it.

In terms of the present day, he is watching over Cassie (recruitable cleric, future high priestess, nobody has any idea she is an Aasimar), and Leon, his adoptive son, a half-elf whose mother was a high elf named Jewel, Xavier's friend (keyword; was).

In general, Xavier is a calm, collected individual; pseudo-immortality will do that. How did he get to this point, who he was before then? I don't know.[/SPOILER]

It's always a difficult terrain to write in when it's a homebrew world; because I am not entirely sure what exists in your world...
If it's high fantasy or just low fantasy with guns and ships, like pirate setting with minor magic.
That said, I wrote what came to my mind when I read what you provided for Xavier... and I think I managed to hit some highlights.
But again, not being familiar with your homebrew world (for what lives in it), other than the history you provided about the world...
I went with what came to me.
So before I tackle the other (two was it?), I will wait to see what you think of this one!
As always, please provide feedback! Whether you liked or hated it, or what worked and what didn't work!
Enjoy!
===========================================
My mother had sought a better life for me and booked passage aboard The New Dawn, which had promised a new life for those who took a chance to defect from the Empire of Kyralia and never swear allegiance to the Kingdom of Aeros.

Unfortunately word had reached the pointed ears of one of the Captains of the Night Watch, who then commanded a ship to meet us out in sea. Knowing that the punishment for defecting would be severe, once my mother saw their ship approaching, she had shoved me into a small chest and thrown me overboard. I was barely an infant at the time and she knew that drowning would be a much better fate than what I would have gotten in the hands of the Kyralian.

Despite being an infant, as the chest began to fill with water, I recall hearing the sound of songbirds; unusually sounding songbirds. Suddenly the chest had stopped filling with water and it had felt like I was being pushed forward. Hours of this seemed to go on.

My next memory was the chest opening and a woman opened it. She took me in her arms and nurtured me for years. I grew up on a small, uncharted island that had a forest that seemed to stretch in every direction for miles. I also grew up always being around animals. One of my most incredible memories in my youth was seeing, petting and speaking to a Unicorn. The Unicorn had explained that it was a protector of the woods and that the woman who raised me was a Dryad by the name of Síoraí. The Unicorn named Gruaige’airgid, or simply “Gru” for ease of my tongue back then, also explained that it had been Selkies – humanoids who took the form of seals in the ocean. They had sensed an innocent life at risk and saved me and brought me to the Dryad to tend to me.

Síoraí raised me for years and I viewed her as my mother. Though I could never be a Dryad like she was, she did teach me to respect, understand and embrace nature. She showed me how to channel – never control – the magic of the world and how it was woven into the roots of nature itself. I would spend days sitting in the middle of the forest clearing, cleansing my mind, and when I opened my eyes I would be surrounded with animals lying all around me.

After twenty seasons I found myself changing. When I asked Síoraí about it, she explained that it was the magic of the island. The island itself had several portals to the Feyworld, and the magic that seeped out from the Feyworld had changed me the longer I stayed on the island. One of the primary changes was that it decreased my aging drastically, just as it had decreased Síoraí’s. She explained that in “mortal years” she was well over ten thousand years old.

By the twenty fifth season of my life, I told Síoraí I had wanted to see the rest of the world. Síoraí summoned Gruaige’airgid who used his ability to teleport me; using the portals of the Feywild to step through and take me back to one of the islands belonging to the Kyralian Empire. Gruaige’airgid explained I need only whisper his true name and he would find me no matter where I was.

That was nearly two thousand seasons ago. Since leaving the isle I have seen men rise and fall. I have seen kingdoms on the brink of victory and driven back by the quivering coward who was cornered. I have seen cities rise, fall, rise again, and burn to the ground.

All of this granted me audiences with kings, queens, princes and princesses; dukes, duchesses, emperors and empresses. Most of them thrived to learn from me so that they could better prepare themselves for what is coming. I became a “Sage of the Ages.”

This ageless body of mine allowed me to live and love, to appreciate things, since I watched so many age before my eyes and leave this world. One such person was High Elf I came in contact with named Jewel. We had become friends as she loved being around me. Her youthful energy seemed to feed me. Being around her was like anyone else. But just as I had seen others age and change, Jewel did not age; but she had certainly changed.

When I learned she had a son, I sought him out. Leon, her son, had not seen his mother in years and had been taken care of by the community. I took him under my wing. Why? Perhaps because in his eyes I still saw a piece of Jewel in him; as if his eyes were sparkling jewels of her soul captured there. With me was Cassie who I had met on the road. I’ve not yet figured her out, but she exudes energy from her being, which has much more to do with than her religious choice. Síoraí had taught me how to read magical energies and Cassie was a burning beacon whenever I looked at her.

Still she was a wonderful soul, because she helped me look after Leon whenever I was busy running errands. When I was relaxing and watching Cassie with Leon, there were times I almost felt completely at peace, as if I finally had a family of my own.

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=326

Jaryn;24071988 wrote: Hello, I've got two real live characters for a campaign that I will be playing alongside my other half. Would it be possible to write backgrounds for them and maybe also incorporate how they met and became friends? It's a bit town mouse and country mouse!

Tana Daergel
Race: Forest gnome
Gender: Female
Class: Ranger
Background: Outlander

Personality: Driven by wanderlust; watches over friends like a litter of newborn pups
Ideal: It is each person's responsibility to make the most happiness for the group
Bond: Her family is the most important thing to her, even if they are far away
Flaw: Slow to trust members of other races and societies

Notes: Grew up in an isolated village of forest gnomes, and acted as a hunter and guide to the wilder parts of the forest. Loves animals. Enjoys company, but can be very shy amongst larger races until she gets to know them.

Questions: She would have been torn between her desire to see the world and her love of her family - what happened to set her free to wander?

First one done!
Because you went with a Forest Gnome, I took the opportunity to yet again - tie the Tawmis-Verse together.
Not only did it work out to tie the Tawmis-Verse together; this particular thing gave me the justification your character needed to leave.
Her origin ties into Tolfan Folkor.
(It's a small world, full of small people!)
As always, I'd love to hear feedback! Will start on the next one ASAP!
Enjoy!
=============================================

The Forest of Lethyr had always been home for Tana.

She loved the woods and the animals who found sanctuary in the Forest of Lethyr. She loved her family dearly, they were perhaps one of the most important things in her life; but at the same time, many of the animals in Lethyr did not have the means to defend themselves against poaches who raided the forest knowing it was abundant with not only animal life; but often times, many more exotic animals were spotted taking refuge in Lethyr, such as Hippogriffs and Griffons. Their manes were prized in the trading markets, and if they were taking refuge in Lethyr they were either already hurt and seeking shelter or exhausted from some form of long travel, like migration. Either way, it made them highly susceptible to poachers.

The poachers, which Tana admitted to herself, were always humans, were relentless in their pursuit. They constant attacks and attempts to murder for profit had driven a wedge in Tana’s heart that caused her to generally dislike humans – or tall creatures in general. If it wasn’t human poachers, it was the Red Eye Orcs and their constant attacks on the woods; either rushing in to kill anything and everything in sight, or sometimes just trying to burn the forest down.

Tana Daergel spent her years growing up defending the animals, just as much as she spent defending her family and friends. She learned from several of the other Rangers how to track down poachers that had penetrated the woods, as well as how to read the footprints of an animal that might be wounded, based on the depth of the footprints left behind.

One of her closest friends was Tolfan Folkor, a fellow forest gnome. In their later years however, the two began to grow apart. Where Tana had continued her passion for animals and defending the woods, Tolfan’s interest became an obsession with magic. Still, the two would talk and share brief stories, explaining what they had been up to and what their plans were.

“I plan on joining the Greenhaven Alliance,” she explained. The Greenhaven Alliance had been a partnership between several Rangers who would pass information to one another as they entered unfamiliar woods, signaling other members of the Greenhaven Alliance with a sequence of animal sounds to let them know they were there. Members of the Greenhaven Alliance were treated like family; brought inside, fed, and shared news of the world outside what they’d seen. Passing this information and news kept everyone appraised as to what was going on and what to expect. This included keeping tabs on Kings and Queens who would rise or fall from power; as that may result in someone going to war.

Tolfan smiled back at his friend, “I am not going to join any organization. I plan on becoming the most powerful wizard in all the land!” He wiggled his fingers as if casting a spell.

“Study,” came a creaking voice which Tana recognized as the Treant, Stonebark. Stonebark and Tolfan had developed a stronger relationship over the years. In their youth, Tolfan, Tana and Stonebark were inseparable.

When Tana had asked Stonebark what happened, the ancient Treant seemed to smile (as much as a Treant can smile) and assured her, “You no longer need me to watch over you. Tolfan,” he shook his upper branches, as if thinking of some odd thought, “he still needs me to watch over him, guide him. You are both the same age, but he acts so brashly.”

“He’s always been an impetuous gnome,” Tana laughed, recalling some memories of how he had gotten them both in trouble, despite her protests to try and stop him.

One day, it had nearly been a week since she’d seen Tolfan. She sought out Stonebark who explained that Tolfan was camping out near the Druid’s Circle.

“Why would he camp out there?” Tana asked, quizzically.

“I am not sure,” Stonebark creaked, “but it cannot be for a good reason. He’s never expressed an interest in Druids before.”

Being a Ranger, Tana was very aware of the Druid Circle. The Rangers and Druids often shared information with one another as well, to keep both sides that defended nature, apprised of what was going on.

Tana made her way to the Druid Circle and quickly picked up Tolfan’s tracks, despite the fact it’d been nearly a week. As she approached, he seemed to be hiding in the bushes. “What in the root are you doing?”

Tolfan yelped and nearly jumped out of his skin. “Don’t sneak up me like that!”

“Well, I wouldn’t have, if you were somewhere obvious. But you’re hiding in a bush just outside the Druid Circle,” Tana said, her hands on her hips. “That’s weird, even for you.”

“Listen, I am just watching the Druids to see how they perform magic,” Tolfan lied. (1)

“You know they use Nature,” Tana replied. “I could have told you that. And you know I could have told you that. What are you really up to?”

“I can’t have you involved,” Tolfan replied.

“Can’t or won’t,” Tana snapped back.

“By the root, that’s where I got it,” Tolfan moaned, realizing that had been something Tana always said. “Listen, if what I am doing works, I will tell you about it. But for now, please, just go.”

Tana instinctively wanted to tell the Druids that Tolfan was watching them; but then she thought, what harm could come of it? He wasn’t going to be able to cast any Druid spells. And telling the Druids would drive a wedge further between her and Tolfan.

When three weeks passed and she’d not heard from Tolfan she returned to his hiding spot and found it had been abandoned about a week ago. Evidence showed he headed for the Druid Circle and then his tracks simply disappeared.

Several more days had gone by, and still she had not heard from her friend.

She had begun asking around, even going as far as asking the Greenhaven Alliance to keep an eye out for him, in and outside of the woods.

Another week gone by, and still no news.

She began packing her bags as her mother, old as she was entered the room. “You’re going to go look for him, aren’t you?”

“I have to mother,” Tana’s eyes were pleading with her mother not to stop her; because it would only take asking her not to go and her will might break.

Her mother smiled broadly, “I am surprised you waited this long.”

“I will ensure you’re taken care of,” Tana began.

“Oh, you stop that! You have two younger sisters who dote on me nonstop,” her mother hit her softly with her cane. “Now go out there and find your missing friend.”

Tana hugged her mother.

“I will be back,” she sobbed wildly, “even if I have to drag Toflan by his big toe!”

“I know you will,” her mother smiled, pulling back and wiping Tana’s tear. “And I will be here waiting.”

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=329

CollectorOfMyst;24071470 wrote: I run a sort of 'Age of Exploration' campaign. That being, there are rudimentary guns and cannons, the players own a ship, and it takes place in a sort of archipelago (a group of islands). Scattered about this archipelago are twelve characters that function as a player would, and can be recruited to the ship. At present, nine of these characters are complete in that I know who they are and who they used to be. Three of them are in varying stages of completion. I can say that having someone help patch those gaps would be a great help, so anything you (or indeed, anyone else) can offer would be a godsend.

The campaign takes place across several islands. There are two 'superpower' nations - the Kingdom of Aeros, and the Empire of Kyralia. Both of these two nations have several vassal states, and there is tension between the two, because as if two nations could exist in D&D without nearly being at war with each other. The recruits come from various powerful factions; the Cardinal Orthodoxy, the religious group of the isles; the Ambrose Academy, the university and council of mages (wizards, warlocks, sorcerers); the Blackthorn Mercenary Company, based in Aeros; and the Outcast's Charter, a former thieves' guild now trying to do some good in the world. There's also an unknown group called the Coterie, which puts up a front of being a group of people who want to improve the world and the relations between the two nations - but is truly seeking power in various ways. The players themselves are essentially a group of wanderers thrown together by chance, standard stuff.

Willow Myastan

Race: Dragonborn (Bronze) | Class: Warlock, Archfey Patron | Alignment: Lawful Neutral | Age: ?? | Faction: Ambrose Academy

Willow was found unconscious on the side of the road near the village of Silverwood (a forest of silver-barked trees). When she woke, it was revealed she had lost most of her memory - all she remembered was the name Willow. However, this was not the most shocking discovery; instead, it was the powers she would sometimes inadvertently use.

Since, Willow has been under the supervision of the Ambrose Academy, as in this world, warlocks are unheard of - meaning that she needs to be studied. This is done in a humane way, of course, and she's free to leave at any time (I might eventually decide that the Academy changes their mind about that bit, but it remains true for now).

Now, I do have a couple of ideas for this. Basically, though, either Willow and/or her patron (who I have been referring to as 'Butterfly' before now) was in a near-death state. In order to save them, the contract was made. How and why this caused the loss of her memory is something I've yet to figure out. I also don't know who she was before her memory loss.

Willow is followed by a rainbow-coloured butterfly wherever she goes (it's pact of the chain)
The Silverwood does have 'Hidden Pathways' - the ways you will enter the Feywild.

This one was easy to write; but again, not sure if it's too "high fantasy" for your campaign...
But with the mention of "Hidden Pathways" to the Feywild....
And the mention of a rainbow colored butterfly...
This one literally simply told itself...
I even leave the fate of an "ancient enemy" very open to be reused by you if you wanted.
As always, I love feedback - what you liked, didn't like, what worked, what didn't work!
Enjoy!
=========================================================
There was a sound; like glass shattering.

A thousand fragments with a thousand colors as if a mirror composed of a box of crayons had just exploded.

There was the sensation of falling into the darkness below her.

A beast made of shadows and despair, rising up, its maw wide open, teeth gleaming like a thousand blades under the moonlight.

Then the colored pieces formed two large wings and dove beneath her and just before she had been devoured by the unseen creature flew upward, saving her from uncertain death.

Willow sighed as she stared into the tub of water, her own reflection peering back at her. But for Willow, it was a face she recognized, but the person was a complete stranger. Willow’s past was gone; a whispering wind touching the fringes of her mind. Every once in a while when she closed her eyes and focused; she could return to that vision of the shattered, colorful glass. She tried to remember if she had been in a Cathedral that frequently had eloquent stained colored glass to paint a picture. However, the nearest Cathedral was on an entirely different island and reported that none of the glass had been broken in years.

The unusually colorful butterfly that had been with Willow since she’d been found on the side of the road near Silverwood landed on her shoulder, peering at her, as if wishing it could speak. The butterfly reminded her of what she’d seen in her memories with the shattered, colorful glass, and the creature who had flown in and saved her from the jaws of death.

Now in the care of the Ambrose Academy who was conducting humane tests on her; she was told that she was a marvel to behold. Never in the entire Kingdom had they seen anything like her; someone who could wield magic so easily, as if it had been infused in her body.

While the Ambrose Academy studied her for her magical capabilities, she in turn, had hoped that they might also explain where she came from. As she lay down to rest, the colorful butterfly with wings of a thousand colors, settled on Willow’s forehead, just as it had done ever since Willow awoke.

The butterfly, however, was far more than just a colorful insect. As it rested its wings on Willow’s forehead, listening to her rhythmic breathing as she slumbered, the “simple butterfly” recalled its final moments in its true form.

It’d been years now when it happened: The War of Spirit Fountain.

The butterfly in truth was an Archfey Dryad by the name of Caomhnóir who had been anointed to guard the Spirit Fountain. The Spirit Fountain had been where Fey souls were reborn. Those with pure hearts who perished had their souls enter the Spirit Fountain to be recharged, reshaped, and reborn into the world anew.

An ancient Lich by the name of Siúlóid Báis, who had been a human who devoted his entire life to extending his own had acquired enough magical power to master the art of Necromancy and had managed to raise an army of dead. After learning of the Spirit Fountain, he knew he could harness the energy with what he’d learned to become a god, gaining not only immortality but godhood as well.

He marched his army into the Feywild where the Fey fought vigilantly and bravely against Siúlóid’s armies; but Siúlóid would only in turn raise the dead Fey to serve him, causing many of the Fey to flee, rather than kill their loved ones – even in their state of undeath. This granted Siúlóid access to the portal to the Spirit Fountain.

Willow, and many other defenders of the Order of Life and Light, converged in the Plane of Spirits to try and stop Siúlóid and his army. Making their final stand on the rainbow bridge that led from the Feywild to the Plane of Spirits a battle that lasted for nearly a year waged on but as more defenders died; Siúlóid simply used his magic to corrupt their souls and capture them before they could escape into the Spirit Fountain and fed off their energy increasing his power and increasing his army.

It had come down to Willow and Caomhnóir. The Dryad turned to Willow and said, “We cannot let him reach the Spirit Fountain. If he does he will destroy all of reality.”

“What can we do?” Willow had asked.

“There’s only one way to stop him from reaching the Spirit Fountain,” Caomhnóir replied.

Willow looked down at her feet. “Shatter the Rainbow Bridge,” she whispered.

“Indeed,” Caomhnóir sighed. “The Rainbow Bridge is the only way to the Spirit Fountain. We must sunder it, but we cannot leave it like that. Please,” Caomhnóir extended her hand. “Take my hand. You must find a way to return here and fix the Bridge one day. We will chain our souls together so that we might undo what we are about to do.”

Willow nodded and took her hand. Instantly like a bolt of lightning coursing through her body, hot, searing, energy burned her inside and sent her to her knees. “Break the Bridge,” she heard in her head. Willow looked at the Rainbow Bridge just as Siúlóid was lunging forward to grab her. Willow raised her fist and with the mystical energy charging her body she brought her first down on the bridge and shattered it like a mirror, sending her and Siúlóid falling into darkness.

“Do not fear,” she heard in her head, just as she saw the remaining energy that made up Caomhnóir absorb some of the fragmented bridge pieces into her and took on the form of a large butterfly. “Brace yourself,” she spoke directly to Willow’s mind, “I am flying towards one of the Feywild portals, when we go through, I do not know what will happen…”

Together they slammed through the Feywild portal, crashing through the woods and stone with so much energy and speed, they slipped through the Feywild and came out another portal in the middle of Silverwood, and continued to spin, crash and roll through the woods, until they came to a stop outside of Silverwood, lying unconscious on the path.

One day, Willow would recover her memory, and remember her mission to rebuild the bridge to the Spirit Fountain. Until then, Fey souls would be lost, unable to be reborn back into the world…

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=330

CollectorOfMyst;24071470 wrote: I run a sort of 'Age of Exploration' campaign. That being, there are rudimentary guns and cannons, the players own a ship, and it takes place in a sort of archipelago (a group of islands). Scattered about this archipelago are twelve characters that function as a player would, and can be recruited to the ship. At present, nine of these characters are complete in that I know who they are and who they used to be. Three of them are in varying stages of completion. I can say that having someone help patch those gaps would be a great help, so anything you (or indeed, anyone else) can offer would be a godsend.

The campaign takes place across several islands. There are two 'superpower' nations - the Kingdom of Aeros, and the Empire of Kyralia. Both of these two nations have several vassal states, and there is tension between the two, because as if two nations could exist in D&D without nearly being at war with each other. The recruits come from various powerful factions; the Cardinal Orthodoxy, the religious group of the isles; the Ambrose Academy, the university and council of mages (wizards, warlocks, sorcerers); the Blackthorn Mercenary Company, based in Aeros; and the Outcast's Charter, a former thieves' guild now trying to do some good in the world. There's also an unknown group called the Coterie, which puts up a front of being a group of people who want to improve the world and the relations between the two nations - but is truly seeking power in various ways. The players themselves are essentially a group of wanderers thrown together by chance, standard stuff.

Fiona

Race: Tiefling (Devil's Tongue) | Class: Monk, Way of the Open Hand | Alignment: Chaotic Good | Age: 23 | Faction: Blackthorn Mercenaries, the Coterie.

Fiona, in no simple terms, is a double agent. She is a high-ranking captain in the Blackthorn Mercenaries, enough to have sway over a significant number of them. However, her loyalties are to the Coterie. She is a Mirror Maiden; an almost exclusively female group, the Mirror Maidens are the spies of the Coterie; they use seductive wiles, battle prowess, and espionage to get what they want. If the players recruit Fiona, they will, in fact, be welcoming an enemy into their midst - because the Coterie has a number of goals that conflict with the party's.

However, I'm not so cruel as to give the players a turncoat (as fabulous as that would be), so Fiona, since her deployment, has begun to have doubts. The world outside Kyralia, where she is from, is so different, so much kinder. She doesn't know what to believe at this point.

Obviously, there's room for something here. I was thinking that Fiona grew up in the Empire's capital city (as yet unnamed) but I'm not sure.

Fiona was another one that came to me; and it doesn't have a lot of high fantasy elements this time.
Hers, much like her, was a humble beginning, that she learned to use the Devil's Tongue to sway men (and women, as needed) to get the information she needed...
But one mission would change her life forever! I loved writing this one and the end... was delicious to write.
As always, I welcome feedback - tell me what you like, hated, loved, what works and what doesn't!
Until then, enjoy!
====================================================
Who I am represents what I’ve become.

My name is Fiona and I was born into this world as a Tiefling.

Born from a human family, I am neither human nor devil, despite my appearances.

I have always lived this life of duality; my human side urging me to remain strong and true to the cause; but the devilish appearance makes it difficult. In order to survive I began to rely on my natural ability to speak to someone’s desires.

Doing this allowed me to survive, but also gain information. It’s interesting how someone might scoff at you on the streets in the presence of others, but if you get them alone, they’re more than willing to be seduced by someone that sneered at in public.

I suppose everyone, in this sense, leads a life of duality. The person they are in the presence of others and the person that they are in privacy.

My appearance and my ability to easily sway a person and gather intelligence from them in the heat of passion quickly got the attention of the Blackthorn Mercenaries, especially after it had been one of their high ranking officers whom I had bumped into, made idle chitchat with, and then proceeded to seduce by the name of Gnéas Le do’thoil (though he enjoyed being called “Genus”). In the thralls of passion, he told me everything about the Blackthorn Mercenaries; their plans, their various bases scattered about, even some of their agents. After the night’s activities, he realized what he’d done and fearful I might go elsewhere to betray them he immediately offered me a position within the Blackthorn Mercenaries.

What neither Gnéas Le do’thoil nor the Blackthorn Mercenaries knew was that Gnéas had been purposely targeted by me. As I said, I’ve always led a life of duality. In truth, I work directly for the Coterie; specifically the exclusively female branch known as the Mirror Maidens. As a part of the Mirror Maidens we used every resource we had available to us, whether it was seduction, espionage, or force, to gather the information we needed for the Coterie.

That was me. That was when my life was easier; when all I had to deal with was the two sides of who I am.

That was several weeks ago. My latest mission takes me outside of Kyralia where I am seeing a side of the world I never knew existed. In the Empire’s Kingdom, everyone was struggling to reach the top, so no matter how far you got, someone was ready to pull you back down and throw you to the bottom and step on your corpse just to get higher.

Outside of that suffocating Empire, the world of Kyralia is very different. Aboard the Dark Horizon, I met an unusual man who claimed to be blind but seemed to move about the boat better than the rest of us. It was interesting trying to get to know him; a challenge, because he couldn’t see me for who I was. He could only go based on my voice which I’d master to be able to seduce man or woman, as needed.

Every attempt to speak with him in such a manner was rebuffed. Offers to spend some time together were declined.

I finally asked him, “You’ve refused every offer I’ve given you, why is that?”

Suaimhneas, the elderly male human, whose eyes were as white as snow replied, “Because they are not sincere.”

“How do you know they’re not sincere?” I asked feeling insulted.

“Because your body language,” he answered matter-of-factly, as he tapped his cane on the ship’s floor.

“You’re blind,” I laughed. “You can’t possibly see my body language.”

“I don’t need to see with my eyes to see,” he laughed back. “If you believe only your eyes are what allow you to see then it is you who is blind.”

“What does that mean?” I asked sitting down next to him, my ego still suffering a critical wound.

“When you speak, your voice is trying too hard,” he said, “and the energy coming from your body is emitting energy similar to animal pheromones. All of this tells me your body is not balanced and that you have used this method to undoubtedly seduce many men and survive in this world.” He stood and began to pace in front of me, his arms folded behind his back. “What if I told you there was something better for you?”

“Better?” I tilted my head back and laughed. “What could possibly be better than the life I have now?”

“Like a sheet of paper, you are torn in half,” he said. A large wave splashed against the side of the boat, sending myself and everyone else toppling to the ground; everyone except the blind man. I brushed myself and stood up.

“How did you do that?” I asked, eyes narrowing.

“Do what? Stand? I’ve been able to stand for many years,” he laughed.

“Well, at least it’s nice to know you have a sense of humor,” I grumbled beneath my breath.

“I felt the energy beneath me,” he explained. “The ocean and the boat are in relation with one another, I felt the boat tilt more to one side before the wave came, telling me there was something coming. Similar to when you throw a stone in a pond and the ripples come. You make yourself one with everything rather than apart from it and you will find balance again.”

For the next two weeks of the voyage Suaimhneas and I would spend hours on the deck as he explained how to channel the energy of the world around me into myself. He taught me peace, tranquility, acceptance of who I am and what I had become. The past was a part of who I was but did not define who I was now in the present.

When we landed on Suaimhneas’ island, which was one I had never seen on the charts – not surprising how small it was, it had only a small village and a small forest from which they hunted – the people of his village Cineál all came out rushing to see him. He introduced me and despite my unusual appearance to all of these humans who had never seen a Tiefling before, they openly accepted me and welcomed me into their homes. I learned their traditions and became a part of their family. I worked their fields and played with their children.

Three years of this and life was amazing until one day one of Suaimhneas’ daughters rushed out to get me from the fields. I ran back with her and saw that Suaimhneas was in bed, his face pale, his breath haggard. “Come,” he said, extending his hand to me. I took his hand into mine. “It was you I was looking for all along,” he smiled weakly. “There was a lost soul I sensed in need of direction and so I booked passage for weeks on end traveling to various islands until we met. Take what I have taught you and go forward. Find your inner peace. You are not a fractured soul any longer. Your past does not define who you are today.”

Suaimhneas took one more breath then his hand went limp in mine…

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsing ... tcount=331

Jaryn;24071988 wrote: Hello, I've got two real live characters for a campaign that I will be playing alongside my other half. Would it be possible to write backgrounds for them and maybe also incorporate how they met and became friends? It's a bit town mouse and country mouse!

Ander Blackthorn
Race: Half-elf
Gender: Male
Class: Celestial warlock
Background: Urban bounty hunter

Personality: Always has a plan for when things go wrong; prefers to make a new friend rather than a new enemy
Ideal: Protects those who can't protect themselves
Bond: Someone he loved died because of a mistake he made
Flaw: It's not stealing if he needs it more than others

Notes: Grew up on the streets, and hardly even remembers his parents. Highly gregarious, but was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time and nearly killed. Found by his patron and attracted their attention. Somehow managed to make a pact. Spent the next few years learning magic from them, and now works as a bounty hunter going after the worst criminals when they are pointed out by his patron. Will lie, cheat and steal if infiltrating an organisation of bad guys, which can exasperate his patron, but it recognises that he is doing it for the greater good and overall they've grown quite fond of each other.

Questions: What nearly got him killed? How/why did he attract the attention of his patron and why wasn't he simply healed and left?

So I had totally forgot when I wrote Tana's backstory that it was supposed to tie in with this one!
But - fear not! I was easily able to recover from my mistake by adding some fun spice to this one...
And yet again, tying it all to the Tawmis-Verse! How does his origin help lead to meeting up with Tana? I left that part open - but left the reason they'd meet up very obvious!
Just as before this one ties to Tolfan Folkor's story as well! But it also re-introduces a character made for Krusk Bonesmasher's backstory! What do a Half-Elf and Kobold have in common? You're about to find out!
As always looking for feedback - what you liked, didn't like, loved, hated, what works and what didn't!
Enjoy!
=========================================
Usually my kind doesn’t know either their mother or their father. Me? I grew up knowing neither of them and being forced to live on the streets of Waterdeep. My name is Ander Blackthorn and my life has not turned out the way I thought it would…

As I said, I grew up on the streets of the Southern Ward of Waterdeep where the “undesirables” were shuffled off to. When you take the unwanted pieces of society and cage them all in one section; there’s no need for the poor to steal from the poor, so what happens is a foundation is built where we begin to rely on one another and form a loosely formed “family” that goes beyond blood. We cover for one another when we steal from the rich or the foolish who happen to stumble into the Southern Ward.

I formed “The Dire Wolves” – a loosely knit group of loners like myself who helped one another with food, clothing, and basic day to day survival. Some of us found menial jobs throughout Waterdeep, such as shoveling stables, gardening, as well as cooks and cleaners for various establishments. We would bring whatever scraps we could muster for one another; feeding the children and elderly first and foremost.

The name “The Dire Wolves” was a bit of a spin on irony. The dire portion of the name was from our dire need to survive; while the wolves was a reference to the idea of the lone wolf and the idea that we had all become a pack.

My closest friend was a Tiefling named Tayven. He was far more reckless with his behavior than I cared for, but he was the one that has stuck with me throughout my life; the very first friend I made in Waterdeep and one of my earliest memories. Tayven believed that the poor were to be robbed from and that’s why the gods had given them money; to have it taken and learn humility.

He’d never hurt anyone during his robberies since his Tiefling appearance could be frightening enough when he ignited his eyes and spread open his wings with his mouth lined with large fangs.

Tayven and I used to laugh how we were both “cross-bred mutts” whose parents didn’t want either of us.

When we were both twenty-one, we took a job protecting a caravan heading south to Dragonspear Castle to deliver weapons, rations and supplies to the guards of Dragonspear Castle who kept watch over the portals located in the castle. I had been the one to convince Tayven to accept the job with me; though Tayven thought I had every intention of seizing control of the caravan wagons to use for The Dire Wolves. I had to spend nearly an hour convincing Tayven that we were not going to rob the caravan. The caravan was headed for guards who kept the land safe. That was off limits.

This is where things took that drastic turn I’d mentioned.

The caravan had been traveling south, having just passed Daggerford after a few nights on the road, making its bumpy way down the Trade Way. Just as we neared the Misty Forest, orcs launched an attack from the western side of the road.

I immediately recognized the symbols they wore – the Red Eye Orc Clan. I knew them from Grumthar in the Southern Ward. His mother had been raped by one of the Orcs and somehow managed to survive the torture she faced at their hands, including branding their symbol on her back as if she were nothing more than a breeding animal to them.

I fumbled for my weapon but an arrow struck me in the shoulder just as I was drawing my sword (which, admittedly was more for show; I never expected to use it and was certainly not trained to use one). I fell off the wagon clutching my shoulder. Tayven saw me fall and jumped in front of me as three Red Eye Orcs jumped on the wagon. The look in their eyes was crazed beyond anything I’d ever seen; and I’ve seen some people in the Southern Ward on various spices that drugged them out of their mind. These Orcs had that look, only mixed with an insatiable blood thirst that burned in their eyes like a searing Phoenix.

I watched as one jumped from the wagon and brought their sword cutting deep into Tayven’s shoulder. He screamed in pain as blood sprayed my face, still prone on the floor. Another orc jumped down and ran his blade through Tayven’s stomach while the third one jumped down and decapitated him. I stared in horror around me as my best friend’s body slumped to the floor. All around me the other caravan guards were dead and dying. Fear took over from there and I did what any sane person would have done, living with the shame of my actions later – I ran.

I ran fearfully and blindly directly into the Misty Forest. Branches slapped and scratched at me, vines seemed to try to trip me up, but I never stopped running, holding up my arms to protect my face and eyes from being clawed out by the very woods that seemed to push against me.

I finally reached a clearing and stopped dead in my tracks.

The sensation that gripped me in the clearing was not only one of sheer, mystical power, but one of peace as well. Everything else that had just happened seemed to wash away from me. I could remember the events still; my best friend killed trying to defend me. But the sadness and the worry and the pain, all of it was gone.

Then they came bursting into the clearing behind me. The Red Eye Orcs had pursued me into the Misty Forest. Several of them looked hesitant, but the one in front was too far crazed to feel what everyone else felt. He salivated, his eyes wide and focused solely on me. He twirled his axe playfully, which was drenched in blood.

I wanted to run but I felt like there was nowhere safer than where I was right now.

That’s when I saw something that I swear was not there a moment ago.

A Unicorn. But this was no ordinary Unicorn. I’d never seen one before; few people have. But a normal Unicorn while remarkable to see was simply a magical horse with a horn on its head. There was something more to this Unicorn. The magic seeping from its body was electrical so that my hair was standing up. It was so pure I felt ashamed in its presence barely able to breathe.

Its eyes were so blue that it defied any shade or color of blue I’d ever seen before and its mane seemed to be made of flowing strands of silver.

The Orcs looked at each other; the idea of killing a prized Unicorn blinded them to what they were facing. As they led the charge, forgetting about me, there was a blinding flash. It took a moment to recover my senses but the Unicorn was still standing in the same spot it was before, but the six orcs who had given chase were all dead where they had been standing a moment ago.

“Why have you brought evil into my woods?” I heard a voice in my head, echoing with such purity it sounded as if the angels were singing.

“I apologize,” I said aloud, turning to face the Unicorn. “I had no intention of bringing this evil into your woods. I was assisting a caravan when the orcs attacked. They killed everyone; including my best friend.”

“I sense that pain inside of you,” it whispered inside my head. “You were paid to protect a caravan and you fled?”

“I am not a skilled swordsman,” I confessed. “I’ve lived my life below the poverty level doing what I could to get by.”

“I sense purity of intention in your heart when I gaze into your past,” the voice said. After a brief pause, as if flipping through the pages of my soul, it added, “What if I gave you the power to make a difference?” the voice asked. “You will never have to run again.”

“How?” I asked.

“You have no family I can see in your past,” the Unicorn whispered in my mind. “No one will come looking for you. The Red Eye Orcs grow bolder every day and I cannot leave these woods. I need someone to keep an eye on them and destroy them when needed.”

“Destroy them?” I shook my head frantically. “Maybe you didn’t hear me when I said I ran away and my best friend died?”

“That’s because you, as you said so yourself, are not a skilled swordsman,” the Unicorn spoke directly into my mind. “There is magic in you, perhaps because of your mother’s side.”

“Was she the elf blood in me?” I asked, having no memory of my mother or father.

“No, she was human, your father was an Elf, a Wizard,” the Unicorn explained.

“You know my parents?” I asked, puzzled.

“I have peered into your past and know everything about you,” the Unicorn stated matter-of-factly.

“Everything?” I asked.

“Everything,” the Unicorn repeated.

“Well that’s a little embarrassing,” I muttered to myself.

“That’s the impulse from your mother’s side,” the Unicorn explained.

I shook and cleared my head of my thoughts. “So there’s magic in me?” I stared at my fingertips. “I don’t feel any magic.”

“Your father being a wizard, he was around it all of the time, and it’s a part of who you are. You never had the opportunity to learn it. I can be the one to teach you. Become my eyes and my weapon for the land beyond the woods.”

I accepted the Unicorn’s offer – and with a blinding light I learned his name, Truestrike.

The Unicorn showed me how to manipulate magic and explained that I was bound to it. Any pain I felt, Truestrike would feel as well, as a part of the connection our souls now shared. That bond also allowed me to glimpse into Truestrike’s own past and I could see that he embodied the energy and powers of the Unicorns scattered throughout the land and that he was a Celestial being, which explained the energy I felt originally.

Truestrike sent me out after some training to take down various rising leaders of the Red Eye clan. I had effectively become a bounty hunter. It started with the Red Eye clan but expanded to bandits and even poachers.

One day, Truestrike appeared, looking uncomfortable and for the first time, agitated. “I have a new task for you. You must find a Forest Gnome by the name of Tolfan Folkor. It would seem that he has insulted a Queen in the Feywild and her emotional anger is wreaking havoc in the Feywild and it is spilling out into the mortal plane as she continues to send Fey who are entirely too chaotic to be here. Find this Forest Gnome and bring him to me alive, so that I can take him back to the Feywild and have him face trial against Queen Eliysa Deerrunner.”


As always tell me what you like, didn't like,