The Order of the Stick: Utterly Dwarfed
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  1. - Top - End - #91
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    Tawmis's Avatar

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    Default Re: Need a character background written up?

    Quote Originally Posted by Jaryn View Post
    Thank you, that is brilliant! Pretty much spot on what I wanted. I particularly enjoyed the description of the parents and the scene where they found Alathiel.
    I would say possibly even better if it had maybe one more paragraph. Would the character go out into the world immediately, or would they need to do a little training/discovery of other abilities too before they felt ready? Genuinely not sure at the moment if it needs that or if it's a better story with him just setting out... Also, for some reason I found the villagers chanting 'be the light' slightly jarring - but this is incredibly subjective and I can't put my finger on why, particularly as I loved the build up of him muttering about it to psych himself up.
    Other things I very much enjoyed were the details like the name of the orc clan, and the closing of the guard's eyes before picking up his sword. Fantastic job, thank you again 😀
    It was really my pleasure! I left it open at the end (did he immediately take off? Did he get training?) because, being Level 1, I didn't know how much detail you wanted in there in regards of how much experience he had. :) But I am very happy to hear you enjoyed it! While those I write for enjoy it - writing it is such a great joy (it honestly helps calm down the storm of creativity in my head by giving me something to focus on) - and when folks reply that they enjoy it... Really feels good!

    Quote Originally Posted by Bjarkmundur View Post
    I'm looking forward to this. I never liked tieflings or warlocks, but by making it a character of the type I generally enjoy, I hope I can learn to love the combo.
    I'm pretty bad at warlocks, and have no idea how to keep the patron active in the story without having to go the stereotypical hyper-dramatic warlock backstory. Like I explained it to my girlfriend, each class does something a figher doesn't do. A fighter doesn't have to review and memorize his spells in the moring, a fighter doesn't have to stick to a code to stay on his diety's good side, a fighter doesn't have to pray to regain his powers in the morning. Flavor wise I see each of the warlock's powers as an individual gift from his patron. Is the thing a warlock does a Raven type "azarath metrion zinthos" in order to invoke the gift? What is it? What does a warlock do that a fighter doesn't
    Well hopefully here's to spinning up something you - and maybe the girlfriend - will both enjoy!

    Quote Originally Posted by MrSol View Post
    Bookmarked the thread for later reading. Absolutely love your writing style!
    I'm rather new to the rpg scene and D&D in general and have pretty much zero Imagination when it comes to stuff like this. I'd be super grateful if you could come up with something if you find the time.

    Forgotten Realms
    Name: Morgan
    Race: Human
    Class: Forge Cleric of Gond
    Background: Clan Crafter (Smith) Was trained by a dwarven master smith
    Alignment: Neutral Good
    Age: late twenties
    Personality traits: I work hard to be the best there is at my craft. I believe that anything worth doing is worth doing right. I can’t help it—I’m a perfectionist.
    Bonds: I owe my guild a great debt for forging me into the person I am today.

    Notes:
    • Doesn't shy away from a good fight and can take quite a punch but doesn't like unnecessary violence.
    • Loves his work and aspires to be the best in the craft.
    Wonderful amount of detail to work off of! I do these as they come in (I think there's one before you) - but will try to knock this out today (or possibly tonight) for you! :)

    And by all means - I welcome you - I welcome EVERYONE - to leave feedback on other backgrounds I've written for others - if you liked it, disliked it, liked a part, hated a part. Any and all feedback is welcome. :)
    Need a character background written up? I do it for free but I am now taking financial donations through paypal if you're so inclined! <3 Now with over 100 character backgrounds written!

    Check out my 5e Module The Secret of Havenfall Manor over at DMsGuild.com! (If you check it out - please rate, comment, and tell others!)

  2. - Top - End - #92
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
    BlueKnightGuy

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    Default Re: Need a character background written up?

    Dumont Castelle, Ghostwise Halfling, Circle of the Land Druid. His father and mother were both adventurers previously and settled down to run a farm. Although Dumont knew he didn't want to be a farmer he did have a love of plants so he became a Druid. He uses his knowledge of plants (and animals) to cook wonderful meals. He really sees himself as a Chef! His ultimate desire is to find the recipe for Ambrosia to prepare for his nature goddess. He is proficient in Cook's utensils, Herbalism Kit, and Poisoner's Kit (he does have a bit of a dark side).

    Thanks in advance!

  3. - Top - End - #93
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    PaladinGuy

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    Default Re: Need a character background written up?

    Quote Originally Posted by Tawmis View Post
    Well hopefully here's to spinning up something you - and maybe the girlfriend - will both enjoy!
    I can't imagine the amount of time, work and effort is going into this :O

    I'm looking forward to it. I'm also excited to see what you decide on regarding the Pact Blade. Is it a conjured weapon? Is it an heirloom connected to my Patron? Is it just an ability I can use on any weapon I wield? --- stay tuned and find out, next time on Dice & Dragons!---
    Last edited by Bjarkmundur; 2019-07-10 at 05:12 PM.

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  4. - Top - End - #94
    Pixie in the Playground
     
    Planetar

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    Default Re: Need a character background written up?

    Quote Originally Posted by Tawmis View Post
    Wonderful amount of detail to work off of! I do these as they come in (I think there's one before you) - but will try to knock this out today (or possibly tonight) for you! :)

    And by all means - I welcome you - I welcome EVERYONE - to leave feedback on other backgrounds I've written for others - if you liked it, disliked it, liked a part, hated a part. Any and all feedback is welcome. :)
    Great, thank you! Very much looking forward to it!
    Will definitely give some feedback once I get the time to read them. :)

  5. - Top - End - #95
    Pixie in the Playground
     
    Planetar

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    Default Re: Need a character background written up?

    I have a character that I really don't know what to do with as I have never made a person like him before. This is for a horror campaign
    Race: Warforged
    Class: Fighter
    Background: Soldier
    Level 3
    He is a dexterity based ranged Battle Master.
    Age is 84 ( not in Eberon)

  6. - Top - End - #96
    Orc in the Playground
     
    Chimera

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    Default Re: Need a character background written up?

    So, I always write my own backstories, and this next character is no exception. In fact, he is a main character in a book I'm currently writing, having first been made for DND, transferred to a book, and then back to DND. But quite frankly, your an AMAZING author, and I would be honored if you would take a crack at Asterius Velo, I need to see how you interpret this.
    Asterius velo: variant human
    Class: Artificer (cannot cast spells in any way)
    Hair and eye color: Brown
    Subclass: artilerist
    Asterius was born to a famous family of sorcerers, all known for their powerful magic.
    Asterius himself is a shy, soft spoken, and careful 16 year old who loves magic, he knows everything there is about magical theory, and he sees magic as beautiful and majestic. This might stem from the fact that he can't use a lick of it.

    Asterius Velo was born without the ability to use any magic. After he had reached ten years of age, and could still no longer perform spells, even when sat down and taught them, he was disowned by his family, and tossed out with a small amount of money and told not to return until he could do magic "like a proper Velo".
    Unbeknownst to either Asterius, or his parents, long ago in the Velo line, one of their ancestors made a deal with a great djinn, in exchange for djinn making their bloodline forever powerful in magic, the djinn would be able to absorb the magic potential of velos who met certain parameters(you decide what those are) these parameters don't come to pass often, maybe once in several hundred years, but when they do, that Velo is forever severed from magic, and, through no means can they ever, cast a single spell.

    Fast forward to Asterius. Over the course of the years away from his family, he tries every possible way to gain magic, study, prayer, devotion, nature, and, against his better judgement, a warlock pact. None of these things worked. No matter what, Asterius would never be able to do the one thing he yearned to do, and never would he ever again be excepted by his family.
    And then, one day, in his journey to find a way to do magic, he discovers artificery. As he studies this art, he realises, so long as he has spells stored in scrolls ahead of time, he can weave magic into items, he can take all of his knowledge, and finally use it.
    So, thats Asterius Velo in a nutshell. A shy, bookish genius who wants only to be accepted. He's quiet, and he would prefer to stay unnoticed. Eventually, I think that he will realise (through help of his friends in the party when I finally play him) tgat he doesn't need acceptance from a family that through him out. He doesn't feel that way yet though.
    So, please try to do this one, I can't wait to see what happens!
    my campaign logs
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    my homebrew
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    kobold inventor class
    [url]http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?587315-kobold-inventor-class-5E-(opinions-wanted)[/url

  7. - Top - End - #97
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    Tawmis's Avatar

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    Default Re: Need a character background written up?

    Quote Originally Posted by n00b View Post
    Dumont Castelle, Ghostwise Halfling, Circle of the Land Druid. His father and mother were both adventurers previously and settled down to run a farm. Although Dumont knew he didn't want to be a farmer he did have a love of plants so he became a Druid. He uses his knowledge of plants (and animals) to cook wonderful meals. He really sees himself as a Chef! His ultimate desire is to find the recipe for Ambrosia to prepare for his nature goddess. He is proficient in Cook's utensils, Herbalism Kit, and Poisoner's Kit (he does have a bit of a dark side).

    Thanks in advance!
    Quote Originally Posted by dragonearth View Post
    I have a character that I really don't know what to do with as I have never made a person like him before. This is for a horror campaign
    Race: Warforged
    Class: Fighter
    Background: Soldier
    Level 3
    He is a dexterity based ranged Battle Master.
    Age is 84 ( not in Eberon)
    Quote Originally Posted by moonfly7 View Post
    So, I always write my own backstories, and this next character is no exception. In fact, he is a main character in a book I'm currently writing, having first been made for DND, transferred to a book, and then back to DND. But quite frankly, your an AMAZING author, and I would be honored if you would take a crack at Asterius Velo, I need to see how you interpret this.
    Asterius velo: variant human
    Class: Artificer (cannot cast spells in any way)
    Hair and eye color: Brown
    Subclass: artilerist
    Yes! I will be honored to do all three of these! I have only a few in front - that I am going to sit down and do right now! And I'd be more than happy to take a swing at these. :)
    Last edited by Tawmis; 2019-07-11 at 01:25 AM.
    Need a character background written up? I do it for free but I am now taking financial donations through paypal if you're so inclined! <3 Now with over 100 character backgrounds written!

    Check out my 5e Module The Secret of Havenfall Manor over at DMsGuild.com! (If you check it out - please rate, comment, and tell others!)

  8. - Top - End - #98
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    PirateCaptain

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    Default Re: Need a character background written up?

    Quote Originally Posted by Tawmis View Post
    I really enjoyed this...! I apologize for not focusing entirely on your character...
    I also wanted to show how lethal attacking Kobolds in general could be... So I had some fun there.
    I painted your Kobold with some intelligence... and tried to fit in everything you mentioned. :)
    Let me know if you liked it, hated it, what you may have liked or hated, what could be improved on, or any general feedback!
    Enjoy!
    ==============================


    The Greycloak Hills are my home...

    snip

    This was great! He's a little more intelligent than I had in mind, but I still love it. Also, the description of that fight was perfect! It's exactly why I want to play him and how I'll fight.
    ~Toggle Yer Crouch~

    Kobold Finesse Barbarian Guide A fun, very viable build for a Barbarian.

    Quote Originally Posted by TyGuy View Post
    ...I've seen a fair amount of granola tree huggers play druids.
    And warlocks & rogues are a magnet for borderline sociopaths.
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    Quote Originally Posted by stoutstien View Post
    ...But I concur you got to bump that con up to around 14 or be prepared to enjoy Proficiency in death Saving throws.
    Quote Originally Posted by Man_Over_Game View Post
    Worst-case scenario, it gets ignored and pushed back to page 2, AKA The Phantom Zone, never to be seen again.

  9. - Top - End - #99
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    Tawmis's Avatar

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    Default Re: Need a character background written up?

    Quote Originally Posted by Bjarkmundur View Post
    Well since you're all cought up, finally I don't feel bad dropping this one off.
    I managed to come up with a character but didn't manage to make it all away to backstory. Well, I sorta did, but it lacks the "one thing lead to another" narrative a true story has.

    Tawmis, meet Barakas
    https://homebrewery.naturalcrit.com/share/ByZX13jRxr
    http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showt...rlock-Redesign
    First, my apologies! Work has been insane today! (I knew it would be - I had a bunch of training classes I had to - which lasted until 1pm... then it was back to back meetings)... Lunch I needed to walk away from my desk... but now, I sat down - between meetings... and decided Barakas and I would take a stroll through Waterdeep...
    If there's anything I missed the mark on or that you don't like - feel free to let me know.
    It was admittedly challenging writing a Warlock (Fiend Pack), whom you said you didn't want to be evil...
    And that their "devil worship" would not be evil... so ... I left it open... with ... is it real, or is there a grander scheme that the Pillars of Light suspect...
    What am I talking about? Well - read on! Again - please be honest - if you didn't like something, let me know! I can try to revisit it and get it closer to what you want.
    =======================


    Waterdeep is one of the most influent cities of Faerűn. The city was vastly known for its trading community, thanks to the merchant kingdoms in the nearby neighborhoods of Calimshan and the trades that came from the Inner Sea to the east. Many who walked in Waterdeep seemed to be in awe of the endless amounts of things that could be purchased. Unique items, never seen before, hung in the windows of shops, waiting to find a new home. This is what earned the city the title of The City of Splendors. Those native to Waterdeep also called it the Crown of the North, showing off their pride.

    The surrounding population of Waterdeep had a population density of over 200 people per square mile, while more than 100,000 people called the city of Waterdeep “home.”

    Most who knew visited Waterdeep would tell you the streets were clean and the guards patrolled the streets rigorously and viciously. Most of the people who would describe Waterdeep as such never ventured into the Southern Ward of Waterdeep.

    Here, where I called it home, there was mud that lay thick on the streets. Mud that seemed to desperately cling to your boots in an effort to pull them from your feet as you walked.

    My name is Barakas and I am one – of many – Tieflings who call the Southern Ward home. But just because there’s mud and muck, does not mean one is living an unhappy life. The Southern Ward is also home to the Jade Dancer – famous for the dancing statue. The Moon Sphere is also in the Southern Ward, celebrated every full moon.

    If you’re looking for a drink and have a score to settle – The Full Cup tavern would be your place of choice. The Spouting Fish was also popular, but fights were typically not tolerated there. I have always preferred the Red Gauntlet. It was quiet, dim, and the place to go to lose yourself in your thoughts.

    One might think because I was a Tiefling, I was sitting here, brooding because of my heritage or because I wasn’t rich. Honestly, that was the furthest from the truth. I understand that there’s a general distrust – possibly even hatred – of Tieflings. I get it. You see someone with horns on their head and a tail, you instantly see some devil standing before you.

    I enjoy people even if they give me odd looks. I am comfortable with who I am and care nothing if they’re afraid of me or hate me. I see it as a challenge to prove I should not be feared. I know the fact that in one of these run-down homes, we’ve converted it to the Church of Mythia. People took great discomfort with it, because Mythia was a Marilith – a female demon, with six arms, and a serpentine body, notoriously known for being evil. But Mythia was different. After all, humans vary from evil and good – can a demon not be reformed? Mythia always spoke to us in ways of helping others accept our appearance. I had taken a great interest in Mythia and her teachings and had made a pact with her, to lawfully server her, in exchange for knowledge and power that she could bestow upon me.

    There were others – especially the religious ones – who claimed Mythia being a demon, that she had been manipulating us. Lying to us. And that she had some other grand scheme that she was launching. This had brought us in conflict, from time to time, against a religious sect in Southern Ward known as The Pillar of Light.

    Typically, they would simply protest outside of our “Church” and from time to time, fists were thrown, but never more than that. We never bothered protesting against the Pillar of Light, because we believed they were entitled to believe what they wanted, so long as they did not invoke harm on others.

    Eighteen seasons had passed since my birth – and at my Ceremony of Ascension – thing had changed drastically. There had been shouting outside, then screams – and before I could understand what had happened – humans were charging inside of our Church and throwing torches down. I watched as they viciously knocked over my family, my people. They were not looking to kill anyone – they simply wanted to burn the Church down because they believed it represented evil.

    I heard her voice in my head suddenly, “Stop them.”

    Instinctively I reached for a scimitar that was hanging on a wall – and felt her energy coursing through me as a thick, black, liquid seemed to surround the blade, with bursts of purple, sparkling energy. Though I had not really used a scimitar in the past, I felt as if I was one with the blade, and that perhaps she was guiding me. My strikes were all non-fatal – in truth, I had only wanted to drive them away.

    Since none of them had weapons, they exchanged nervous glances and quickly turned and fled, the Church already burning. Others in the Southern Ward all rushed out to assist in putting out the fires. Despite their distrust of Tieflings, and even the one we followed and had made a pact with, most people knew we never did any harm – and that we had not deserved this.

    In the hour of desperation, as we tried to save our Church, the people had come together. Tomorrow, old suspicious and prejudice would surly arise – but on this night – we were united. I looked at the scimitar in my hand again – the black liquid faded. The scimitar was the weapon of the Marilith and Mythia was no different.

    Most of the Church could not be saved. The following morning the sky smelled of ash as I stared at the charred remains of our Church.

    “Show the world,” I heard her voice again, “that we are not evil. Go. Make them believe.”

    I looked down at the scimitar in my hand and realized, I had not let it go all night …
    Need a character background written up? I do it for free but I am now taking financial donations through paypal if you're so inclined! <3 Now with over 100 character backgrounds written!

    Check out my 5e Module The Secret of Havenfall Manor over at DMsGuild.com! (If you check it out - please rate, comment, and tell others!)

  10. - Top - End - #100
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    Tawmis's Avatar

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    Default Re: Need a character background written up?

    Quote Originally Posted by MrSol View Post
    Bookmarked the thread for later reading. Absolutely love your writing style!
    I'm rather new to the rpg scene and D&D in general and have pretty much zero Imagination when it comes to stuff like this. I'd be super grateful if you could come up with something if you find the time.

    Forgotten Realms
    Name: Morgan
    Race: Human
    Class: Forge Cleric of Gond
    Background: Clan Crafter (Smith) Was trained by a dwarven master smith
    Alignment: Neutral Good
    Age: late twenties
    Personality traits: I work hard to be the best there is at my craft. I believe that anything worth doing is worth doing right. I can’t help it—I’m a perfectionist.
    Bonds: I owe my guild a great debt for forging me into the person I am today.

    Notes:
    • Doesn't shy away from a good fight and can take quite a punch but doesn't like unnecessary violence.
    • Loves his work and aspires to be the best in the craft.
    Had a lot of fun with this one - I feel like the "mother" your character lands with - may steal a bit of the show at the end...
    And since you put no surname with your character... I actually stuck with it and explained it...
    As always, please share ANY feedback - what you like, hated, enjoyed immensely, what worked, what could be re-worked... Things I miss the mark on, I can loop back and try to fix!
    Please enjoy!
    ===============================================
    Nestled between the Thunder Peaks, the town of Winterhaven often found itself under attack by Kobolds and Goblins. My parents – Mason and Lauren – tried their best to survive. My father had a small farm while my mother worked on leather.

    The day came when a goblin by the name of Daruk Split-eye had united the goblins and kobolds of Thunder Peaks and launched a unified attack against Winterhaven. The guards of Winterhaven consisted of farmers who had taken up arms only when necessary or if there were adventurers passing through. On this night, with no moon or stars in the skies, Daruk led his minions into Winterhaven quietly, rather than screaming and charging down the mountain side as they had traditionally done in the past, which normally provided ample warning to be ready for the attack.

    The goblins and kobolds had killed several people before the screams began alarming people that something was wrong. My father awakened my mother, who had been cuddling with me – as I was only just born seven days ago. The same day a quake had sent several rocks tumbling against Winterhaven’s side wall.

    “We must go,” he whispered as he pulled her to her feet. He peered out the window cautiously and saw several goblins and kobolds moving in the darkness. He quickly pressed himself against the wall, his heart pounding in his chest.

    “What’s going on?” she whispered fearfully.

    “Goblins and kobolds,” my father had replied.

    “Together?” she asked surprised.

    He simply nodded in silence. They crouched beneath the window and made their way for the door. Just then, the door had been kicked down and two goblins peered inside – their short swords seemingly made of shadows on this starless night. My father quickly shoved the door closed, stunning both goblins as it slammed into them.

    Pulling on my mother’s hand, they fled out of the home, with my mother clinging to me.

    “Get them!” Daruk Split-eye had yelled, standing on a stone, commanding his forces from above.

    “Don’t look back,” my father yelled as they tried to run for the town’s gated entrance to escape. The entrance, however, was littered with goblins and kobolds looting the dead that they had slain near the gate.

    “The back gate will likely be blocked as well,” my mother cried.

    “The side,” my father suddenly said.

    “The side? There’s a wall all the way around,” my mother replied, fearful as they began running for the northern wall.

    “The day our son was born,” my father was wheezing. “The quake.”

    “The hole in the wall! They’ve not fixed it!” my mother shouted excitedly.

    Just as he had remembered – the large stone that had tumbled through the northern wall was still there, as they had not figured out how to move the large rock. He helped my mother climb up but could not climb up himself. She kneeled down, “Give me your hand!”

    “No,” he said, smiling at her knowingly. “My journey ends here. You must go. Take our son. He must live.” He reached down and picked up a large branch that had fallen from one of the sundered trees from the rockslide.

    “I will not leave you,” she could not contain her tears as she saw goblins and kobolds rushing to them from her advantage.

    “Do not condemn out son to death,” he smiled. “If I am to die tonight, let it be defending you and our son, so that you both might live another day.”

    “I can’t!” she cried.

    “You must!” He turned and faced the slowly approaching goblins. “Now go!” he shouted as he swung the thick branch. She waited, watched for a moment, as the goblins continued to lunge at him and he kept them at bay – having the length of the branch that exceeded the length of the goblin’s blade.

    “Move!” a goblin’s voice shouted in guttural Common. The sound had caught her attention – and she saw Daruk Split-eye walking through the gathered goblins and kobolds who parted the way. My father gripped the branch nervously as Daruk Split-eye walked towards him fearlessly. My father swung the branch and Daruk Split-eye ducked under the clumsy swing, plunging his short sword deep into my father’s chest. My father collapsed, wordlessly.

    Daruk Split-eye looked up at my mother and smiled. He commanded the other goblins and kobolds the climb one another until they had formed a pile that Daruk Split-eye could easily climb. My mother frantically continued to climb the mountain, sobbing out of fear of my fate, and having witnessed the death of the man she’d loved for thirty years at the hands of the very goblin that was eagerly pursuing her up the northern mountain side of the Thunder Peaks. She cried loudly as Daruk Split-eye gained on her, since she had to avoiding crushing my skull as she climbed against the jagged stones.

    She whispered, “I am so sorry,” as she came to a stop, stroking my infant hairs on my head. “I am so very sorry.” She removed a necklace she had made by a Dwarven merchant in Winterhaven two days after I’d been born that simply had the name of my father, my mother, and myself.

    Suddenly a rock moved and a dwarf stand with his hand extended. “Come with me,” he barked. Just as my mother moved to stand, Daruk Split-eye grabbed her ankle. Her eyes opened wide in terror. “Take my son!” she screamed and threw me into the arms of the Dwarf, who suddenly stepped forward to catch me. She continued to kick and push at Daruk Split-eye, to delay him – but the goblin eventually bested my mother, bringing his short sword to her throat. Daruk Split-eye stared at the Dwarf holding the child and growled, “Not yet. But the day will come where I will lead my army against you and your people.” And with that, Daruk Split-eye turned away and began descending down towards Winterhaven again.

    That’s the story Hougrain Bloodmaul told me. I touched the necklace I wore around my neck – the only thing I had from my parents – and the sole reason I knew their first name but not their surname – or even my own for that matter.

    My name is Morgan and I have spent twenty years being raised by Dwarves who felt it was their place to raise me – the request of a dying mother was undeniable. Hougrain had become my father for all intents and purposes and his wife, a lovely Dwarven woman named Ellastar was my mother. Hougrain seemed to run the house if you looked at it from the inside out; but having grown up with them, when Ellastar put her foot down, Hougrain knew the fight was over, and typically mumbled into his beard something about he was trying to explain it how she had said, but just hadn’t said it correctly.

    Hougrain was a devote follower of Grond and as such, he showed me the Church and how they gave their Dwarven God praise. He had never expected me to accept it as my own since I was human; but not only had I accepted Grond as my god, but I also took an interest in working the forge – something Hougrain was very well known for in the Dwarven Community of Thunder Peaks.

    Perhaps because I was human and among the Dwarves – though they all loved me and accepted me and appreciated me – I had always felt I had to push myself a little longer, a little harder, than anyone else. When Hougrain stopped for the night in the forge, drenched in sweat, arms screaming in pain, I would push myself for another two hours – or until my mother, Ellastar came into the forge to yell at me that my dinner was getting cold.

    I asked about Daruk Split-eye from time to time, but the Dwarves of the Thunder Peaks rarely ventured outside – and thus had little in the ways of encountering goblins or kobolds. Only the occasional Goblin or Kobold that might be taking shelter from a storm and accidently find an access panel did the Dwarves deal with them.

    I began to wonder what the world outside was like. Not that I was eternally thankful for the love, time and skills the Dwarves had shown me – but sitting at dinner and being the tallest person was beginning to feel awkward (despite their protests that they actually enjoyed seeing me!). I began to wonder how other humans lived… and Hougrain had told me about Elves (“Magic folk!” Ellastar would add. “Can’t trust them!”), Tieflings (“Demon Blood!” she would shake her head, “Can’t trust them!”), Aasimir (“Touched by angels?” she’d scoff, “More like touched in the head if you know what I mean!”) and other such people that walked the world.

    I wanted to take what I heard learned – from the forge to the love I’d been shown – and take it to the world outside.
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  11. - Top - End - #101
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    Quote Originally Posted by n00b View Post
    Dumont Castelle, Ghostwise Halfling, Circle of the Land Druid. His father and mother were both adventurers previously and settled down to run a farm. Although Dumont knew he didn't want to be a farmer he did have a love of plants so he became a Druid. He uses his knowledge of plants (and animals) to cook wonderful meals. He really sees himself as a Chef! His ultimate desire is to find the recipe for Ambrosia to prepare for his nature goddess. He is proficient in Cook's utensils, Herbalism Kit, and Poisoner's Kit (he does have a bit of a dark side).

    Thanks in advance!
    Lord, I had fun with this one. This is one where I also created a sister for you - to originally show the power of the Ghostwise (of speaking telepathically), but as I continued to write, the dynamic between your character and hers just bloomed... and I love how it came out. I, however, may have missed the mark on what you wanted... but I tried to hit all the notes you mentioned. Please let me know if it's good or not - or if you want something redone, or whatever! Honestly, even though I enjoyed writing (really I enjoy doing all of these, as I feel honored to be asked to walk in everyone's character shoes, if you will) - but I am more than willing to revisit and change things up if I missed something. :)
    ================================
    “What do you think father will think when you tell him?” I heard her voice speaking directly into my mind.

    Her name was Dyram Castelle and she was my older sister. We moved through the forest quietly as I spoke telepathically to her, “I don’t think father or mother will have much room to say anything, really,” I countered. “They were both adventurers before settling down.”

    “Yes, but our kind does not typically go out into the world,” she countered. “Mother and father were an exception – and frowned upon by the Clan.”

    “The Clan-Splan,” I signed mentally to my sister. “The Clan can think what they want. Father and mother can think what they want. I’ve made up my mind.”

    My parents Aruk and Cerena Castelle had both done what our Clan considered the unthinkable. They had gone out to explore the world and become adventurers. After some small success and their curiosity sedated, they returned to the Clan. The Clan had shunned us until my sister was born and suddenly the Clan was forgiving of my parents.

    “Do you plan on finding someone to wed?” I heard my sister speak into my mind, as if she could read my mind. As a Ghostwise Halfling our people were able to speak to one another telepathically within short ranges, and though my sister and I were not twins, we shared an unbreakable bond that sometimes allowed us to seemingly skim the most dominate thoughts.

    Both my sister were raised close to the Clan who taught us both the ways of the Land. While I continued the ways of learning the land, my sister who had a mischievous side to her, took to learning to fight and defend, in the event someone dared raid our hidden homeland. She had no interest in learning how to read plants, animals, or to check for signs of sickness. All the while, I wanted to better understand how someone might poison the land – or even an animal or person – so I took a vested interest in learning more about poison. Initially it had been to better counteract poison, but I was admittedly amazed at how so many plants could be used to produce poison.

    My sister gestured to me and snapped me out of my thoughts. The boar we had been tracking for an hour had finally stopped in a clearing and began feasting on the grass. My sister launched an arrow directly to the back of the neck, instantly killing it. The boar felt no pain. We jumped down from the tree and approached the kill. She looked at me, “There you go.”

    “What do you mean ‘there you go’,” I said. “You’re the one who killed it,” I pointed out.

    “I killed it for you,” she emphasized, “because you’re obsessed with becoming this world renowned cook.”

    “World renowned Chef,” I corrected.

    “Is there really a difference,” she sighed, exasperated (as I’ve corrected more than several times in the years we’ve been growing up). “Because regardless whether it’s cook or chef, it’s something you wanted so you can carry it.”

    She slung her bow over her shoulder and began to walk away, leaving me standing next to the boar. “You’re so rude,” I signed. “I am going to get blood all over my new leathers.”

    “Shouldn’t have worn your new leathers,” she retorted as she continued to walk away and say, “and not my problem.”

    I heaved a deep sigh and picked up the boar and began dragging it back.


    “You can’t!” my mother barked at me as I stirred the stew in the pot. (Stew, that I might add, smelled rather amazing!)

    “You and father did,” I shrugged tasting the stew. (Just as I had expected! Perfect! I’m pretty sure I only know how to make this stew flawlessly!)

    “For what purpose do you want to go out there – into the world?” my mother wrung her hands.

    “Same reason you and father did,” I answered matter-of-factly. “To see the world, experience new things, and to cook the perfect Ambrosia for Yondalla.”

    My mother started to say something, she blinked repeatedly as if she were having a seizure (as a side note – it’s the same look those that get poisoned by a small dose of Thistle Weed look like), before stammering, “Ambrosia for Yondalla?”

    “Yes!” I said, as if it were obvious. “I have cooked here for our family – even the Clan. Everyone says the same thing! I am the best cook they’ve ever known! But there’s one person – one being who I truly want to ask if it’s as good as I – and everyone else! – thinks it is! Yondolla would speak true!”

    “How do you even plan to do this?” my mother collapsed into her chair.

    “You and father used to mention Cleric Temples out in the world,” I replied. “I could go to one of hers and present my Ambrosia at the feet of her statue and see if she responds. Also,” I stirred the stew a few more times before moving the pot off of the fire, “the supplies I have in regards to meat and plants is limited to this forest. From what you’ve told me there are all kinds of other plants and animals out there in the world beyond our woods. What if adding some of that into my food makes it even better than it is now?”

    “Your father will never let you go,” my mother whispered.

    “That’s why I am not going to tell him,” I smiled. “And neither are you.”

    “Does your sister know?” my mother asked.

    “She does,” I nodded. “She’s known for weeks.”

    “Weeks!” my mother exclaimed. “You two… are bound. Is she going with you?”

    “No,” I shook my head. “I definitely wouldn’t want her tagging along.”

    That night dinner was tense and quiet with frequent inquiries from my father wondering why everyone was acting so weird. (He had wondered, one by one, if he had missed the anniversary of one of our births, or perhaps the anniversary of he and my mother’s ceremony of bonding). Truth was, no one wanted to say anything for fear of breaking and telling the truth.

    That night I snuck out of our home and jumped out of the window to the floor below. I was started by my sister standing there, leaning against the tree.

    “Take this,” she said, thrusting something into my hand.

    I opened my hand and looked. A compass? “What’s this for?” I asked looking at her.

    “So one day, you can find your way back home to us,” she said, then hugged me. I could hear her crying.
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  12. - Top - End - #102
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    Quote Originally Posted by dragonearth View Post
    I have a character that I really don't know what to do with as I have never made a person like him before. This is for a horror campaign
    Race: Warforged
    Class: Fighter
    Background: Soldier
    Level 3
    He is a dexterity based ranged Battle Master.
    Age is 84 ( not in Eberon)
    OK - so you have him at 84 years old (and good thing you put not in Eberon, because I know zilch about that campaign setting)... Now the story essentially ends with his birth - but it's easily believable that his "objectives" (mentioned in the story) have had him wandering around, attempting to complete it for the last 84 years!
    I enjoyed writing this - because it was different. You mentioned the horror campaign, so I thought of Ravenloft type setting and worked from that mindset.
    I've never really written any horror stuff myself... a few short story challenges here and there... and I don't feel like this was so much a horror story - but the birth of your character... and why and how he came to be - but with an emphasis that it's a dark world he lives in...
    As always, feedback is appreciated! Whether good or bad, what I got right, what I got wrong, same old song and dance as the others. :)
    ==================================
    “There is no reason to fear the dark, until the darkness blinks at you.”
    - Tarik Moonstrider

    The War of the Misthunters is legendary and tragic.

    There had been a family that had taken up residence near Uren’tor, the main city on this side of the continent. Things seemed normal at first – but then people began to vanish. Concern grew and adventurers were hired to find out what had been going on. Some of those adventurers were found, years later, wandering aimlessly, their very mind stripped from them. The others were assumed to have been dead.

    The family that moved near Uren’tor were called the Van’shin family. Perhaps that should have been the first clue, since the name – in ancient tongues literally meant ‘born from darkness.’ When a lynch party had formed and marched towards the Van’shin manor, they were greeted by undead – some of which were still recognizable as adventurers who had been employed to investigate what had been going on.

    The few that had managed to escape the horrors of the undead returned to Uren’tor with the news. The Council immediately convened about what was to be done. But before the Council could decide, pounding came from the Chamber Doors. Allar was the one who answered it – and was surprised to see several of the people who had gone missing weeks ago standing at the door, wounded and bleeding. “By the gods!” he exclaimed. “Come in! Come in! Before they come!”

    And those fatal words of granting the vampire spawns permission to enter – eight creatures now turned by the Van’shin family burst into the Council chambers and tore apart each and every person inside, leaving nothing but blood and body parts, before moving throughout the town to continue the same ruse and gain entrance to the residence of unsuspecting villagers of Uren’tor.

    The City Guard managed to slay several of the vampire spawns, driving the others back to the manor. Assaults on Van’shin’s Manor typically left more undead to be used against the town of Uren’tor in the form of zombies, ghouls, or ghasts.

    Tarik Moonstrider was a wizard who had dabbled into Necromancy in secrecy – but it was not to create undead, but to expand his own human life. As such he had made pacts with demons, devils, angels and gods. He knew why the Van’shin were here… they had actively been hunting him for over a hundred years. His knowledge of the afterlife and how to cheat it had caught the interest of the Van’shin who were vampires that sought to seek in daylight.

    This was not because they had missed the feeling of the sun on their pale skin. This was because this would allow them to hunt for human food during the daylight and be stripped of the weakness wrought to vampires by their nature.

    Tarik might have considered helping the Van’shin in the beginning, many, many, many years ago. The problem was the Van’shin had, unknowingly – before they were even aware of who Tarik was – killed and turned Tarik’s daughter into a vampire spawn.

    Tarik had captured his daughter – and using the knowledge had gained – had managed to find a way to reverse the Vampirism. When the chord was severed between Tarik’s daughter and Nev Van’shin – the eldest of the Van’shin knew something was different. He had not sensed her death, as he had the others. He could still see through her eyes and hear all she heard, but he could no longer control her. As the weeks progressed she began to have bursts of violence and anger that had been completely irrational. Her need for raw meat increased as the weeks went on. Within a year, she was completely feral incapable of thought and Tarik knew what had to be done.

    And now the Van’shin had caught up with him here in Uren’tor.

    Tarik had expected this day to come and down in the tower he had worked vigorously on something he had spent years researching.

    And now it was ready.

    He could hear the Van’shin howling outside of his tower. That meant almost everyone – if not everyone – in Uren’tor was dead. The Van’shin rarely made their own presence known, relying instead on their charmed minions or the undead which they’d created.

    From the basement, Tarik shouted, “Damn you Van’shin! Damn all of your souls to the planes of Hades! May they be ripped and torn and sent to every corner of Hell. If you think you can take me – then let’s end this tonight! I grow tired of running! This old bones will fight here and now – and one way or the other – this ends for me! So come in! Come in and find me in the basement!”

    Tarik heard the door explode upstairs – and it sounded like a million bats screaming with excitement as they came into the tower. Nev Van’shin himself walked down the stairs, his cloak pulled tightly around him. He was extremely attractive, forever potentially looking as if he were a young twenty five year old human, when in truth he’d live nearly five hundred years.

    “I don’t want to kill you, Tarik,” he said. “I won’t even turn you. Just tell us what you know about reversing this undeath.”

    Tarik smiled. “There is no reason to fear the dark, until the darkness blinks at you.”

    That was the moment of my birth.

    I am not human.

    I am the only weapon that can fight the Van’shin.

    I am Warforged. Created to fight.

    The command Tarik uttered - “There is no reason to fear the dark, until the darkness blinks at you”- activated me and set into motion the two primary objectives.

    First – Kill Tarik.
    I turned and grabbed the very man who forged me and snapped his neck.

    Nev Van’shin howled in fury. “No!”

    Objective two kicked in – Destroy the Van’shin.
    Objective three – Destroy all undead.

    Immediately I lunged for Nev Van’shin who immediately realized the danger he was in and shouted, “Retreat! Everyone out!”

    I had managed to grab his cloak, but he ripped it off from his neck and turned to mist and fled. I had knowledge that Tarik had plugged into me – I knew where the Van’shin Manor was and immediately marched there. The undead perished at my hands as I reached the front door and smashed it in. I searched the entire manor but the Van’shin had fled.

    Objective two – Destroy the Van’shin.

    I will walk this world until the generations of the Van’shin have all been destroyed.

    In between – Objective Three would be active – any and all undead must be destroyed.
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  13. - Top - End - #103
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    Quote Originally Posted by Tawmis View Post
    Had a lot of fun with this one - I feel like the "mother" your character lands with - may steal a bit of the show at the end...
    And since you put no surname with your character... I actually stuck with it and explained it...
    As always, please share ANY feedback - what you like, hated, enjoyed immensely, what worked, what could be re-worked... Things I miss the mark on, I can loop back and try to fix!
    Please enjoy!
    Holy Hell man! Gave me goosebumps! I cant imagine how much work you put into these things. I seriously appreciate it.

    I especially like the relationship between his dwarven parents and him. The mother is just like what I would imagine a dwarven mom would be like. I feel like he will occasionally hear her voice in the back of his head: "You be careful now. Cant trust those Mere-folk. Breathing water! Unnatural."
    Really like his Father too. Seems like the kind of person who would enjoy teaching his son what his father taught him, before him and his father before him and his father before him and so on.
    Great Idea with the names btw, nice touch.
    Also really liked the goblin and kobold raid and the necklace. They give good plothooks for later in the campaign that can be expanded on infinitely. My DM is going to love that.

    Only thing I would add/expand upon (didn't mention this in the prompt so totally my fault):
    I imagined Morgan having a made a bit of name for himself after he left home, as a smith of some skill. Not world famous by any means. Usually smiths in medium to large cities would recognize his makers mark or name. If they don't, they definitely know his fathers.

  14. - Top - End - #104
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    Default Re: Need a character background written up?

    Quote Originally Posted by MrSol View Post
    Holy Hell man! Gave me goosebumps! I cant imagine how much work you put into these things. I seriously appreciate it.
    I especially like the relationship between his dwarven parents and him. The mother is just like what I would imagine a dwarven mom would be like. I feel like he will occasionally hear her voice in the back of his head: "You be careful now. Cant trust those Mere-folk. Breathing water! Unnatural."
    Really like his Father too. Seems like the kind of person who would enjoy teaching his son what his father taught him, before him and his father before him and his father before him and so on.
    Great Idea with the names btw, nice touch.
    Also really liked the goblin and kobold raid and the necklace. They give good plothooks for later in the campaign that can be expanded on infinitely. My DM is going to love that.
    Only thing I would add/expand upon (didn't mention this in the prompt so totally my fault):
    I imagined Morgan having a made a bit of name for himself after he left home, as a smith of some skill. Not world famous by any means. Usually smiths in medium to large cities would recognize his makers mark or name. If they don't, they definitely know his fathers.
    SO glad you liked it - because that one literally just started writing itself as soon as the idea of a Kobold/Goblin siege led by a goblin chief...!
    And the Dwarf mother literally... I didn't even write her lines.
    She was in my head telling me what she was saying and I was just jotting it down for her!

    As for the part about making a name for himself, I wasn't sure where you were (in the campaign itself) so I didn't want to take too many liberties and say he had left the Dwarves and made a name for himself... Wanted to open that door to just say, "What was out there?"

    But you could easily explain that he went out into the world, to see what was out there - and the way he paid for rooms, food, horses, is by doing smith work around the various towns he had hit, and thus made a name for himself.
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  15. - Top - End - #105
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    Quote Originally Posted by moonfly7 View Post
    So, I always write my own backstories, and this next character is no exception. In fact, he is a main character in a book I'm currently writing, having first been made for DND, transferred to a book, and then back to DND. But quite frankly, your an AMAZING author, and I would be honored if you would take a crack at Asterius Velo, I need to see how you interpret this.
    Asterius velo: variant human
    Class: Artificer (cannot cast spells in any way)
    Hair and eye color: Brown
    Subclass: artilerist
    Asterius was born to a famous family of sorcerers, all known for their powerful magic.
    Asterius himself is a shy, soft spoken, and careful 16 year old who loves magic, he knows everything there is about magical theory, and he sees magic as beautiful and majestic. This might stem from the fact that he can't use a lick of it.

    Asterius Velo was born without the ability to use any magic. After he had reached ten years of age, and could still no longer perform spells, even when sat down and taught them, he was disowned by his family, and tossed out with a small amount of money and told not to return until he could do magic "like a proper Velo".
    Unbeknownst to either Asterius, or his parents, long ago in the Velo line, one of their ancestors made a deal with a great djinn, in exchange for djinn making their bloodline forever powerful in magic, the djinn would be able to absorb the magic potential of velos who met certain parameters(you decide what those are) these parameters don't come to pass often, maybe once in several hundred years, but when they do, that Velo is forever severed from magic, and, through no means can they ever, cast a single spell.

    Fast forward to Asterius. Over the course of the years away from his family, he tries every possible way to gain magic, study, prayer, devotion, nature, and, against his better judgement, a warlock pact. None of these things worked. No matter what, Asterius would never be able to do the one thing he yearned to do, and never would he ever again be excepted by his family.
    And then, one day, in his journey to find a way to do magic, he discovers artificery. As he studies this art, he realises, so long as he has spells stored in scrolls ahead of time, he can weave magic into items, he can take all of his knowledge, and finally use it.
    So, thats Asterius Velo in a nutshell. A shy, bookish genius who wants only to be accepted. He's quiet, and he would prefer to stay unnoticed. Eventually, I think that he will realise (through help of his friends in the party when I finally play him) tgat he doesn't need acceptance from a family that through him out. He doesn't feel that way yet though.
    So, please try to do this one, I can't wait to see what happens!
    Moony - I don't know if I can do anything to enhance your story - if you're already putting into a novel type format.
    But I do enjoy the Arabian Knights setting - which I sort of envisioned with the deal with the Djinn ... and that part of the story - and how it leads up to it, I really enjoyed!
    So a lot of this is primarily the build up to how the power comes to Asterius' family - and how he is somehow not born with it...
    I do come up with a reason as to why it happens... it may or may not work with your story.
    Please give me any feedback - this was a little bit nerve wracking (in a good way) because you had said you were already doing a story - then you asked me to write something, so I was always worried I'd be stepping on toes. :)
    So please give feedback as to what you liked, didn't like, what worked, what didn't work - I'd love to hear it!
    =========================================
    The Forgotten Sands.

    Cursed lands for many reasons and the stories that surround the Forgotten Sands are countless. Some say that the Forgotten Sands stretch forever west with no end, and may actually be an entrance to the Plane of Earth. Others claim that spending more than an hour in the Forgotten Sands, you will lose your way – and that no matter the direction you go, within the next hour you will see your own footprints in the sand, as if you were walking in a circle. Some even say that in the Forgotten Sands, even the moon and stars hide away, for fear of being lost, and that only the sun has the courage to continue to shine there.

    Several hundred years ago, a man, desperate to die by the name of Dorin Velo stared at the edge of the Forgotten Sands and took in a deep breath. Dorin had lost the woman whom he had spent his years attempting to court only to have her give her hand in marriage to someone Dorin had considered an arch-enemy, a vile human named Oken Bro’tar. Sarealia, the woman whom Dorin had loved had been attracted to Oken simply because he was everything her father detested, and having spent her years under his control, Oken offered her the freedom to do whatever she wanted with someone her father despised.

    This was foolish – and Dorin knew this. Losing her love was not worth dying for – especially the slow, anguishing deaths that the Forgotten Sands were said to offer for the foolish who set foot and begin walking west, into the endless sand dunes.

    But the ale that Dorin had drunk at the Scorpion Tail’s Tavern had given him the liquid courage to proceed. He took one step and thought, “It’s not too late.” He took his second step, and repeated the same thought. Each step forward, he had the same thought. On his seventy step, just after he had that thought, he turned around… and saw only barren wastelands. In every direction it was like looking in a mirror – endless dunes of sand, and a scorching sun that seemed to be eager to kill him.

    The sun never seemed to set, nor did the mercy of night. For what seemed like days he walked, before stumbling down to his knees and crawling. The hot sands burned the flesh on the palm of his hands until he could no longer feel. Each time he had believed death had come for him, he seemed to awaken. He then realized he could not die here because his hatred of Oken burned just as bright as the sun.

    The liquid courage had been burned from his body long ago; and the days or weeks he had been trapped in the Forgotten Sands had made it so his flesh clung tightly to his bones, and still he would not die.

    Then he saw something different – an enormous pillar in the center of the sand. He crawled for it, desperate that it might have food, water or even shelter. When he reached it – he found a beautifully carved door over eighteen feet. Ancient text that he could not read had been scrawled all over it. It was odd (or perhaps his mind was leaving him now), but Dorin had studied ancient texts all of his life and he did not recognize any of the words and could not even begin to guess what race might have scrawled these words.

    Too far gone to care if it was a warning, Dorin pushed the door open – and what he saw inside stole his breath away. While the tower was no more than twenty feet wide; inside the tower seemed to stretch sixty feet in every direction and was lavishly decorated. A large circular table sat in the middle of this gigantic room – and a vase with similar writing as the door sat in the center of that table.

    He was drawn to the blue vial in the center – and as he reached for it thinking it might be an enchanted bottle of water – he heard as voice in his head as soon as he touched it.

    “Break the rune at the top of this bottle and I shall grant you powers you can not believe.” It had been a male’s voice – and Dorin believed sincerely he was going mad – and that this was all just an elaborate mirage before his final death. But then the voice said, “If I am just a mirage, what fear do you have of breaking the seal?”

    Dorin tilted the bottle and saw a rune at the top of the bottle.

    “Unimaginable power?” Dorin asked the mysterious voice.

    “Unimaginable,” the voice repeated. “I will bless your bloodline with magic.”

    “Magic?” Dorin inquired. He had heard of the Wizards of the world, most of whom did not survive the tests of learning their mystical arts. “Can you bend time, if you are so powerful?”

    “To a degree,” the voice replied. “But not far into the past. But such a thing would cost you, if I am to give you magic and put you into the past.”

    “What cost?” Dorin asked looking about to see if he could see who was speaking to him.

    “When I find the ones who imprisoned me, the line shall be broke, and I will call on my magic that I bestow upon you, to be returned to me,” the voice said.

    “When will I know when that happens? Could it be as soon as I let you out?” I asked.

    “I can scan the edges of your mind and see that those who imprisoned me also cursed the lands I once lived in,” the voice said. “If I am to give you most of my power, I will require what little I retain to escape these lands and track them down. It could be months, years, even centuries before I find them – because I have been trapped here for over two thousand years.”

    That hardly seemed feasible in Dorin’s mind. History barely went back that far. Still Dorin had only one thing in mind – his goal was short sighted – to get magic and be placed in the past so that he can impress Sarealia and take her hand as his own before Oken takes it. Whatever happened after that did not matter.

    He smeared his thumb across the rune on the top and the room filled with a blue mist that emitted from the bottle he was holding. The mist took the figure of a floating man with blue skin, a large, dark blue beard, piercing red eyes, an elaborate vest like nothing Dorin had ever seen before, with beautiful silk pants that ended in a misty blue mist. The figure drew his scimitar and said, “My name is Din’far – and you have freed me mortal. Per our agreement,” he tapped his scimitar on Dorin’s shoulder, and suddenly Dorin threw his head back and screamed as unimaginable power – just as he had been promised – coursed through him. Dorin looked up at Din’far, and now his own eyes glowed red. “I see in your mind where you want to go. Remember, your bloodline will be blessed with this magic – but the time may come when I find those who had imprisoned me and I take these powers back, forever.”

    “Yes, yes,” Dorin nodded. “Send me back.”

    Dorin was sent back three weeks before he knew Oken had met Sarealia – and for a brief moment he was in two places at once – as he saw himself dropping off Sarealia after one of the fine dinners he had taken her too in hopes of winning her heart. But then he saw that she closed the door, peered out the window and had watched until he was gone, before opening the door and running outside again. He followed her around to the rose garden where none other than Oken had been hiding and waiting for her. He watched with unbridled fury as the two engaged in passionate love making. She had been seeing Oken for weeks then before he made his presence publically known! She had been sleeping with Oken while Dorin had foolishly been trying to court her. He never had a chance. There was only one way to fix this now.

    Dorin had watched Oken to learn his habits for the next few days. Each night he waited for Sarealia to sneak out and meet her in the rose garden so that they could enjoy each other’s passionate embrace. Then he would walk to the Sandstone Tavern and get a drink. It was there, one day before Oken would propose to Sarealia that Dorin ambushed him and using his magic he had been given, incinerated him so that only ashes remained.

    Sarealia was devastated, especially as Dorin consoled her, explaining he had seen Oken riding away, saying something about “another notch on the saddle.” Dorin patiently waited and proposed to her several months later. He silently forgave her for all she had done with Oken – all that mattered was that she was finally his.

    Their marriage had been a loveless one; as he soon began to grow bitter seeing that she was still sad about Oken and that she would sometimes stare out the window, awaiting his return. Despite their loveless marriage, she bore two children – a son and a daughter – both of which were born with great powers.

    Generations of Velo were born with this innate magic surging in their bodies. The history of their power made them prominent people. Everywhere they went they were recognized for the sheer power they possessed.

    Then Asterius Velo was born, and by the age of five – when the signs of magic typically presented itself - Asterius Velo appeared to be a normal child, stripped of any potential for magic. His parents were furious and sent him to Wizardry towers to see if they could help him unlock the magic that was clearly destined to be in his blood. After all it had been over sixteen generations of Velo born with magic – why would Asterius not have such power?

    Still, despite intense – and sometimes abusive – weeks at the Wizardry towers, Asterius showed no signs of magic. By the age of sixteen, the timid, shy, soften spoken boy whose brown hair and brown eyes had made him seem so normal. All of his family had “Awakened Eyes” as they called it by the age of ten – when the magic truly surged in them. But Asterius had no such eyes and no such magic.

    Whispers among the family wondered if Asterius was perhaps cursed – so off to warlocks and sorcerers who committed excruciating tests on him to “awaken” the magic in him – all for naught. The years of his family’s obsession with Asterius possessing magic had made him sincerely interested – he wanted it because his family wanted him to have it. He also wanted it because he had seen what others in his family could do with it.

    Several months before seventeen seasons had passed, Asterius’ parents – Taneer and Ionna gave him a small bag of gold and told him to do the family a favor and “disappear forever if you can’t learn to do magic like a proper Velo.”

    Stunned to have been asked to disappear from his family, Asterius left and eventually found a library where he often slept (safer, he discovered than sleeping in the streets, where he had been robbed several times). In the great library he found an ancient tome that spoke of making pacts with demons. Desperate to regain his family’s love, one night – just outside city limits, he repeated the spell of summoning a Vrock demon – which appeared, made an accord to give him power in exchange for his soul, which Asterius gladly agreed to. However, much to the surprise of the Vrock demon – nothing the demon could do invoked magic within Asterius – and so the Vrock was forced to decline the offer and leave.

    Asterius was shattered.

    Perhaps if he found some adventurers – he could go with them – and through their travels learn more about the world – and perhaps find a way to break this curse that has somehow clearly been bestowed upon him…
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  16. - Top - End - #106
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    Quote Originally Posted by Tawmis View Post
    Moony - I don't know if I can do anything to enhance your story - if you're already putting into a novel type format.
    But I do enjoy the Arabian Knights setting - which I sort of envisioned with the deal with the Djinn ... and that part of the story - and how it leads up to it, I really enjoyed!
    So a lot of this is primarily the build up to how the power comes to Asterius' family - and how he is somehow not born with it...
    I do come up with a reason as to why it happens... it may or may not work with your story.
    Please give me any feedback - this was a little bit nerve wracking (in a good way) because you had said you were already doing a story - then you asked me to write something, so I was always worried I'd be stepping on toes. :)
    So please give feedback as to what you liked, didn't like, what worked, what didn't work - I'd love to hear it!
    =========================================
    so, first things first: that was amazing! I love the work you did with Dorin, and the link you made between Asterius's eyes and magic? Perfect. Now, to asage ypur previous fears, this is DND Asterius, slightly different from book Asterius. Also, have you been sneaking into my house and reading my novel?????
    Because in that, Asterius is raised in a great, magical library, where he researches magic.
    Anyways, accusations of house breaking aside, this is amazing. I absolutly love this. I am totally using it for the DND backstory for him.
    The only thing that I wpuld say is I have no Idea how he first gets into Artificery, my DM doesn't either. If you ever get free time and happen to come up with that, I'll be greatful. But feel like you have too!!!! This stuff is awesome enough on its own!
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  17. - Top - End - #107
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    Quote Originally Posted by moonfly7 View Post
    so, first things first: that was amazing! I love the work you did with Dorin, and the link you made between Asterius's eyes and magic? Perfect. Now, to asage ypur previous fears, this is DND Asterius, slightly different from book Asterius. Also, have you been sneaking into my house and reading my novel?????
    Because in that, Asterius is raised in a great, magical library, where he researches magic.
    Anyways, accusations of house breaking aside, this is amazing. I absolutly love this. I am totally using it for the DND backstory for him.
    The only thing that I wpuld say is I have no Idea how he first gets into Artificery, my DM doesn't either. If you ever get free time and happen to come up with that, I'll be greatful. But feel like you have too!!!! This stuff is awesome enough on its own!
    Thank you so much! You had left me enough things to work with in your notes - you had mentioned he was a book heavy person - so I figured a Great Library would come into play.
    Hah - and the first time I read it - I read Artificery as Artillery for some reason (and couldn't think how he would have gotten into it... but then on the drive to work today randomly it donned on me, that he could have sailed across the great seas - and as payment, worked cannons to fight off the onslaught of pirates out there...) Then I come in and see it was Artificery. Which means a sub class of Artificer.

    Which could easily be explained that, though he could not unlock the magic in himself (because it doesn't exist), his constant studies, exposure to the Wizards and Warlocks, all unknowingly granted him the sub-class of becoming an Artificer.
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  18. - Top - End - #108
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    Quote Originally Posted by Tawmis View Post
    Thank you so much! You had left me enough things to work with in your notes - you had mentioned he was a book heavy person - so I figured a Great Library would come into play.
    Hah - and the first time I read it - I read Artificery as Artillery for some reason (and couldn't think how he would have gotten into it... but then on the drive to work today randomly it donned on me, that he could have sailed across the great seas - and as payment, worked cannons to fight off the onslaught of pirates out there...) Then I come in and see it was Artificery. Which means a sub class of Artificer.

    Which could easily be explained that, though he could not unlock the magic in himself (because it doesn't exist), his constant studies, exposure to the Wizards and Warlocks, all unknowingly granted him the sub-class of becoming an Artificer.
    Slightly confused here: he uses the UA artificer base class, and the artilerist subclass of that class. Artilerist makes wands, I'm not surprised ypu didn't know about it though. It is unearthed arcana.
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  19. - Top - End - #109
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    Default Re: Need a character background written up?

    Quote Originally Posted by moonfly7 View Post
    Slightly confused here: he uses the UA artificer base class, and the artilerist subclass of that class. Artilerist makes wands, I'm not surprised ypu didn't know about it though. It is unearthed arcana.
    Hah! See - I read Artilerist as one who does artillery. So that's confusion on my behalf. And then i thought you had maybe typoed to Artificer. I had never heard of that as a wand maker - but that still fits that in an attempt to learn magic - he thought he could bind with a wand and do magic through there. But naturally that didn't happen. So he thought perhaps he wasn't doing the wand right - and got into making wands.
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  20. - Top - End - #110
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    First, my apologies! Work has been insane today! (I knew it would be - I had a bunch of training classes I had to - which lasted until 1pm... then it was back to back meetings)... Lunch I needed to walk away from my desk... but now, I sat down - between meetings... and decided Barakas and I would take a stroll through Waterdeep...
    Hey man, I don't think anyone's rushing you. We've all seen what you can do and are more than willing to wait our turn. You gotta take care of yourself first, before you can start to take care of others. :)

    It was admittedly challenging writing a Warlock (Fiend Pack), whom you said you didn't want to be evil...
    And that their "devil worship" would not be evil... so ... I left it open... with ... is it real, or is there a grander scheme that the Pillars of Light suspect...
    I loved the suggestion-without-confirmation, using the Pillar of Light. I thought that was a cool way to show how the world isn't black and white, but instead a gray sludge of personal opinions. I attempted to go the more "pagan" route with the devil worship in order to keep it not-evil, but never thought of throwing a church into the mix! I imagined a poor and large immigrant family with its own tradition that was severely misunderstood be the city's native population. By interpreting "worship" as "church" you actually gave Barakas a much more compelling motivation to do what he does. I can see him joining our mercenary company and donating all the money to rebuilding the church. I can even use the Trollskull Alley Tavern rules for doing it, which I think is pretty amazing.

    Please be honest - if you didn't like something, let me know! I can try to revisit it and get it closer to what you want.If there's anything I missed the mark on or that you don't like - feel free to let me know.
    This is really hard for me. I'm personally inclined to give you nothing but praise. But I know the value of an outsider's opinion, and how it can sometimes help. I hope you read the following knowing I fully enjoyed your story.

    Mud that seemed to desperately cling to your boots in an effort to pull them from your feet as you walked...
    This was a very nice way to move the scenery from the splendor of Waterdeep to the setting where the story takes place. You move on to redeem the Southern Ward via it's landmarks. I feel like this would have better be done by focusing on the people, especially since the focus of the story is the community and the conflict within it.

    One might think because I was a Tiefling, I was sitting here, brooding because of my heritage or because I wasn’t rich. Honestly, that was the furthest from the truth.

    Using the Taverns as a means of moving the 'camera' from facing from Barakas to exploring his personality is a clever transition. Never would've thought of that. I feel like the subject (taverns) is a little bit out of place, but the method is brilliant. I'm wondering what it would like like if the subject was instead a bird's eye view of Barakas doing something, rather than talking about doing something. This would give a better sense of time passing, and is a good chance to either use the festivals or interacting with people, both which are more relative subjects to the story and his character.

    I enjoy people even if they give me odd looks. I am comfortable with who I am

    As with part that came before this in the story, they are both great ways to show the reader Baraka's personality. It's amazing how well you seem to know MY character xD

    Can a demon not be reformed?

    This part is seriously underplayed, and I wonder if that is intentional? Seeing how people usually look towards the diety they find the most relatable, a demon trying to mend her ways seems like a natural pick for any tiefling trying to start a new life in a city full of negativity towards their race. I have yet to research Mythia, but being a diety of understanding and change I feel like she's a perfect fit. I might be misunderstanding, I only know her from this story.
    It also made me think, where do demons, devils and celestials get their powers? Is it just a given that everything that's good is radiant, everything that's bad is fire/necrotic and everything trixy is fey? Is there some overlap?

    There were others – especially the religious ones – who claimed Mythia being a demon, that she had been manipulating us. Lying to us.

    Choosing the antagonist to be a specific group against Baraka's subject of prayer. instead of it being a direct metaphor for opposing Mythia's values is another lost opportunity. If Mythia preaches changes and acceptance, wouldn't the perfect antagonist represent distrust and prejudice? Having it a non-organized group would also create a metaphysical antagonist, one that can't necessarily be defeated, which is great foreshadowing for Mythia's words to Barakas "Show the world".
    This does not change my opinion of loving the grey area. Just like Magneto or Dr. Doom. They are the embodiment of good, if you ask them. Having Barakas and his people be HIS good, but evil to someone else, and the reader not knowing who is right, is perfect for this story. As the story is written now, you need this setup-without-payoff. If you are thinking about revisiting your stories for some sort of personal collection, add this in last. That way you can see if you still need the duplicity, or if you managed to introduce it in another way.

    ...because we believed they were entitled to believe what they wanted, so long as they did not invoke harm on others.


    Perfect.

    ...humans were charging inside of our Church and throwing torches down...
    This is the best part of this story. I love everything about this. The shock, the pacing, and how you managed to create a dramatic 'peaceful' action scene.

    “Show the world,” I heard her voice again, “that we are not evil. Go. Make them believe.”
    Having the Ceremony of Ascension representing the pact was a beautiful touch. You can make a promise to Mythia to become the best version of yourself, and go into the world without prejudice. Having accepted Mythia as your patron, she can then speak through you, like she does in this story. She doesn't strike a bargain that you accept, or a deal you must uphold. You simply make a promise. For most tieflings, this would be the extent of the pact. But in the case of this story, she must see something special in Barakas; a beacon of betterment and acceptance, and speaks to him directly as her would-be champion. He never said "will you give me powers if I become your champion", he just said "I am as you are" and she said "and so you shall be". That's the kind of Pact i wish everybody used.

    I hope this gave you some insight to what it feels like reading your story for the first time. Hope you have a great friday. Thanks for all the amazing stories, and see ya later :)
    Last edited by Bjarkmundur; 2019-07-12 at 02:46 PM.

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  21. - Top - End - #111
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    Planetar

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    Quote Originally Posted by Tawmis View Post
    OK - so you have him at 84 years old (and good thing you put not in Eberon, because I know zilch about that campaign setting)... Now the story essentially ends with his birth - but it's easily believable that his "objectives" (mentioned in the story) have had him wandering around, attempting to complete it for the last 84 years!
    I enjoyed writing this - because it was different. You mentioned the horror campaign, so I thought of Ravenloft type setting and worked from that mindset.
    I've never really written any horror stuff myself... a few short story challenges here and there... and I don't feel like this was so much a horror story - but the birth of your character... and why and how he came to be - but with an emphasis that it's a dark world he lives in...
    As always, feedback is appreciated! Whether good or bad, what I got right, what I got wrong, same old song and dance as the others. :)
    ==================================
    “There is no reason to fear the dark, until the darkness blinks at you.”
    - Tarik Moonstrider

    The War of the Misthunters is legendary and tragic.

    There had been a family that had taken up residence near Uren’tor, the main city on this side of the continent. Things seemed normal at first – but then people began to vanish. Concern grew and adventurers were hired to find out what had been going on. Some of those adventurers were found, years later, wandering aimlessly, their very mind stripped from them. The others were assumed to have been dead.

    The family that moved near Uren’tor were called the Van’shin family. Perhaps that should have been the first clue, since the name – in ancient tongues literally meant ‘born from darkness.’ When a lynch party had formed and marched towards the Van’shin manor, they were greeted by undead – some of which were still recognizable as adventurers who had been employed to investigate what had been going on.

    The few that had managed to escape the horrors of the undead returned to Uren’tor with the news. The Council immediately convened about what was to be done. But before the Council could decide, pounding came from the Chamber Doors. Allar was the one who answered it – and was surprised to see several of the people who had gone missing weeks ago standing at the door, wounded and bleeding. “By the gods!” he exclaimed. “Come in! Come in! Before they come!”

    And those fatal words of granting the vampire spawns permission to enter – eight creatures now turned by the Van’shin family burst into the Council chambers and tore apart each and every person inside, leaving nothing but blood and body parts, before moving throughout the town to continue the same ruse and gain entrance to the residence of unsuspecting villagers of Uren’tor.

    The City Guard managed to slay several of the vampire spawns, driving the others back to the manor. Assaults on Van’shin’s Manor typically left more undead to be used against the town of Uren’tor in the form of zombies, ghouls, or ghasts.

    Tarik Moonstrider was a wizard who had dabbled into Necromancy in secrecy – but it was not to create undead, but to expand his own human life. As such he had made pacts with demons, devils, angels and gods. He knew why the Van’shin were here… they had actively been hunting him for over a hundred years. His knowledge of the afterlife and how to cheat it had caught the interest of the Van’shin who were vampires that sought to seek in daylight.

    This was not because they had missed the feeling of the sun on their pale skin. This was because this would allow them to hunt for human food during the daylight and be stripped of the weakness wrought to vampires by their nature.

    Tarik might have considered helping the Van’shin in the beginning, many, many, many years ago. The problem was the Van’shin had, unknowingly – before they were even aware of who Tarik was – killed and turned Tarik’s daughter into a vampire spawn.

    Tarik had captured his daughter – and using the knowledge had gained – had managed to find a way to reverse the Vampirism. When the chord was severed between Tarik’s daughter and Nev Van’shin – the eldest of the Van’shin knew something was different. He had not sensed her death, as he had the others. He could still see through her eyes and hear all she heard, but he could no longer control her. As the weeks progressed she began to have bursts of violence and anger that had been completely irrational. Her need for raw meat increased as the weeks went on. Within a year, she was completely feral incapable of thought and Tarik knew what had to be done.

    And now the Van’shin had caught up with him here in Uren’tor.

    Tarik had expected this day to come and down in the tower he had worked vigorously on something he had spent years researching.

    And now it was ready.

    He could hear the Van’shin howling outside of his tower. That meant almost everyone – if not everyone – in Uren’tor was dead. The Van’shin rarely made their own presence known, relying instead on their charmed minions or the undead which they’d created.

    From the basement, Tarik shouted, “Damn you Van’shin! Damn all of your souls to the planes of Hades! May they be ripped and torn and sent to every corner of Hell. If you think you can take me – then let’s end this tonight! I grow tired of running! This old bones will fight here and now – and one way or the other – this ends for me! So come in! Come in and find me in the basement!”

    Tarik heard the door explode upstairs – and it sounded like a million bats screaming with excitement as they came into the tower. Nev Van’shin himself walked down the stairs, his cloak pulled tightly around him. He was extremely attractive, forever potentially looking as if he were a young twenty five year old human, when in truth he’d live nearly five hundred years.

    “I don’t want to kill you, Tarik,” he said. “I won’t even turn you. Just tell us what you know about reversing this undeath.”

    Tarik smiled. “There is no reason to fear the dark, until the darkness blinks at you.”

    That was the moment of my birth.

    I am not human.

    I am the only weapon that can fight the Van’shin.

    I am Warforged. Created to fight.

    The command Tarik uttered - “There is no reason to fear the dark, until the darkness blinks at you”- activated me and set into motion the two primary objectives.

    First – Kill Tarik.
    I turned and grabbed the very man who forged me and snapped his neck.

    Nev Van’shin howled in fury. “No!”

    Objective two kicked in – Destroy the Van’shin.
    Objective three – Destroy all undead.

    Immediately I lunged for Nev Van’shin who immediately realized the danger he was in and shouted, “Retreat! Everyone out!”

    I had managed to grab his cloak, but he ripped it off from his neck and turned to mist and fled. I had knowledge that Tarik had plugged into me – I knew where the Van’shin Manor was and immediately marched there. The undead perished at my hands as I reached the front door and smashed it in. I searched the entire manor but the Van’shin had fled.

    Objective two – Destroy the Van’shin.

    I will walk this world until the generations of the Van’shin have all been destroyed.

    In between – Objective Three would be active – any and all undead must be destroyed.
    Wow I did not expect this but I love it. I had no idea what to do with a warforged. This is defintly better than what I would have made, Many thanks.
    I think because of how he was created in respect to Tarik that he is going to use his name. He also is level three at the start which could show the power used to make him. Also Van’shin I am coming for you
    Last edited by dragonearth; 2019-07-12 at 03:44 PM.

  22. - Top - End - #112
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    Quote Originally Posted by Bjarkmundur View Post
    Hey man, I don't think anyone's rushing you. We've all seen what you can do and are more than willing to wait our turn. You gotta take care of yourself first, before you can start to take care of others. :)
    Well, considering I only allow myself an hour at the most to write these, I always feel like I can squeeze them in somewhere in my day.
    The other day just proved that there's always an exception. :)

    Quote Originally Posted by Bjarkmundur View Post
    I loved the suggestion-without-confirmation, using the Pillar of Light. I thought that was a cool way to show how the world isn't black and white, but instead a gray sludge of personal opinions. I attempted to go the more "pagan" route with the devil worship in order to keep it not-evil, but never thought of throwing a church into the mix! I imagined a poor and large immigrant family with its own tradition that was severely misunderstood be the city's native population. By interpreting "worship" as "church" you actually gave Barakas a much more compelling motivation to do what he does. I can see him joining our mercenary company and donating all the money to rebuilding the church. I can even use the Trollskull Alley Tavern rules for doing it, which I think is pretty amazing.
    The Church I had envisioned was essentially like one of those run down buildings; windows are all busted out. It's barely holding itself together. Similar to the people of the Southern Ward in some regard. :) I am so glad that that little touch added some more to work with for your character! These are the best things that come out of when I do this - when I add something to a person's background that kicks open more doors to explore.

    Quote Originally Posted by Bjarkmundur View Post
    This is really hard for me. I'm personally inclined to give you nothing but praise. But I know the value of an outsider's opinion, and how it can sometimes help. I hope you read the following knowing I fully enjoyed your story.
    Constructive criticism is always, always, always welcomed!


    Quote Originally Posted by Bjarkmundur View Post

    - Mud that seemed to desperately cling to your boots in an effort to pull them from your feet as you walked...
    This was a very nice way to move the scenery from the splendor of Waterdeep to the setting where the story takes place. You move on to redeem the Southern Ward via it's landmarks. I feel like this would have better be done by focusing on the people, especially since the focus of the story is the community and the conflict within it.
    See, this is why I want this kind of feedback. In my head - the reason I had focused on the streets, is I knew when I transitioned from the splendor of Waterdeep to the poverty side - I was going to be focusing on a character who lived pretty much on the streets. I wanted to get into the grime and grit of the streets to set up how this character lived! So here's somewhere - where in my head I had envisioned one thing - but missed the mark for my reader! I need to hear this!

    Quote Originally Posted by Bjarkmundur View Post
    - One might think because I was a Tiefling, I was sitting here, brooding because of my heritage or because I wasn’t rich. Honestly, that was the furthest from the truth.
    Using the Taverns as a means of moving the 'camera' from facing from Barakas to exploring his personality is a clever transition. Never would've thought of that. I feel like the subject (taverns) is a little bit out of place, but the method is brilliant. I'm wondering what it would like like if the subject was instead a bird's eye view of Barakas doing something, rather than talking about doing something. This would give a better sense of time passing, and is a good chance to either use the festivals or interacting with people, both which are more relative subjects to the story and his character.
    That would have worked! (I always enjoy injecting actual things from places - so I dug up some of the actual tavern names of Waterdeep to throw them in there! So if someone read it - they could be like, "Oh! That's cool! He used some actual Waterdeep Tavern names rather than make them up!") But that doesn't always work out.

    Quote Originally Posted by Bjarkmundur View Post
    - I enjoy people even if they give me odd looks. I am comfortable with who I am
    As with part that came before this in the story, they are both great ways to show the reader Baraka's personality. It's amazing how well you seem to know MY character xD

    You gave me some groundwork to work off of - so I built off of that. So you shared enough to allow me to walk in Baraka's shoes and peer inside his Tiefling mind. :)


    Quote Originally Posted by Bjarkmundur View Post
    - Can a demon not be reformed?
    This part is seriously underplayed, and I wonder if that is intentional? Seeing how people usually look towards the diety they find the most relatable, a demon trying to mend her ways seems like a natural pick for any tiefling trying to start a new life in a city full of negativity towards their race. I have yet to research Mythia, but being a diety of understanding and change I feel like she's a perfect fit. I might be misunderstanding, I only know her from this story.
    It also made me think, where do demons, devils and celestials get their powers? Is it just a given that everything that's good is radiant, everything that's bad is fire/necrotic and everything trixy is fey? Is there some overlap?
    So the reason I went this route was two fold - your stuff was all for Pact of Fiend... and you didn't want to play an "Evil" character. In my own current campaign (game tomorrow! YES!), the party had accidentally released a Fallen Angel who is now causing all kinds of chaos. So with you not wanting to play an Evil character but had a pact with a Fiend... I thought, "Well if there can be fallen angels, can there be redeemed demons?"

    Of course, I am leaving it up to you (and your DM) to see if the Demon is actually "redeemable" (redeemed), or if my little organization, The Pillar of Light is right, and she's playing some kind of long game...

    Quote Originally Posted by Bjarkmundur View Post
    There were others – especially the religious ones – who claimed Mythia being a demon, that she had been manipulating us. Lying to us.
    Choosing the antagonist to be a specific group against Baraka's subject of prayer. instead of it being a direct metaphor for opposing Mythia's values is another lost opportunity. If Mythia preaches changes and acceptance, wouldn't the perfect antagonist represent distrust and prejudice? Having it a non-organized group would also create a metaphysical antagonist, one that can't necessarily be defeated, which is great foreshadowing for Mythia's words to Barakas "Show the world".
    This does not change my opinion of loving the grey area. Just like Magneto or Dr. Doom. They are the embodiment of good, if you ask them. Having Barakas and his people be HIS good, but evil to someone else, and the reader not knowing who is right, is perfect for this story. As the story is written now, you need this setup-without-payoff. If you are thinking about revisiting your stories for some sort of personal collection, add this in last. That way you can see if you still need the duplicity, or if you managed to introduce it in another way.
    Magneto (especially) is a wonderful example of the "grey" character (and I don't just mean his hair). Where Doctor Doom seems more on the bitter side against Reed, Magneto actually had the entire ordeal with the Jewish Camps that the Nazi's put him through... he has just reason not to trust humans. He's seen the worse of them.

    But yes, it can be fun to play the grey area... and like I said, I am leaving her "end intentions" up to you and your DM.


    Quote Originally Posted by Bjarkmundur View Post
    ...humans were charging inside of our Church and throwing torches down...
    This is the best part of this story. I love everything about this. The shock, the pacing, and how you managed to create a dramatic 'peaceful' action scene.
    Thank you! :)

    Quote Originally Posted by Bjarkmundur View Post
    Having the Ceremony of Ascension representing the pact was a beautiful touch. You can make a promise to Mythia to become the best version of yourself, and go into the world without prejudice. Having accepted Mythia as your patron, she can then speak through you, like she does in this story. She doesn't strike a bargain that you accept, or a deal you must uphold. You simply make a promise. For most tieflings, this would be the extent of the pact. But in the case of this story, she must see something special in Barakas; a beacon of betterment and acceptance, and speaks to him directly as her would-be champion. He never said "will you give me powers if I become your champion", he just said "I am as you are" and she said "and so you shall be". That's the kind of Pact i wish everybody used.
    I hope this gave you some insight to what it feels like reading your story for the first time. Hope you have a great friday. Thanks for all the amazing stories, and see ya later :)
    I loved all this feed back! I enjoyed creating the idea of Mythia to be a part of your character's history. I enjoyed the trust placed in me to walk inside the character's life and explore it and share it. :)
    Need a character background written up? I do it for free but I am now taking financial donations through paypal if you're so inclined! <3 Now with over 100 character backgrounds written!

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  23. - Top - End - #113
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    Quote Originally Posted by dragonearth View Post
    Wow I did not expect this but I love it. I had no idea what to do with a warforged. This is defintly better than what I would have made, Many thanks.
    I think because of how he was created in respect to Tarik that he is going to use his name. He also is level three at the start which could show the power used to make him. Also Van’shin I am coming for you
    I had never done Eberon before (other than DDO - Dungeons & Dragons Online MMO - which is based in Ebberon - and I only got probably no higher than level 10 on any of my characters). So when I saw you had mentioned Warforged, I did some quick reading on them. And then once I saw you mentioned a Horror Campaign - my brain immediately went to the idea that a Warforged may be immune to a vampire (since they're not living - at least in respects to being turned and such). So once I had that - the story just unfolded. I actually really enjoyed writing it because it was something new to me (both in regards to ever consider writing a Warforged character and writing something for a horror campaign setting)! I am very, very happy to hear that you liked it!
    Need a character background written up? I do it for free but I am now taking financial donations through paypal if you're so inclined! <3 Now with over 100 character backgrounds written!

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  24. - Top - End - #114
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    Quote Originally Posted by Tawmis View Post
    I was trying to think of how to get a Barbarian Aasimar... while typically angelic from an angel or god...
    I thought I wanted to do something more... savage like... something that really lends to a barbarian's ... desire to fight... be strong...
    And then I thought, "Well, he's looking for his sister... so tracking would be important..."
    Then I thought... "How am I missing this? Wolves are my favorite animal. Expert trackers... Let's start there..."
    You weren't sure if you were going to do Forgotten Realms - so I stuck with that theme, but the story is general enough that the mentioned gods could easily be changed to be whatever...
    If there's anything I missed the mark on, please let me know - I'd be happy to rework it!
    Let me know what you liked, hated, or whatever! Any and all feedback - even if it's negative (as long as it's constructive!) I will be happy to hear!
    =================================


    There is a legend among my people that centuries ago, the god Silvanus had enchanted a magnificent wolf to hunt down The Prince of Lies, the god known as Cyric. This great wolf was named Frostmane, and it is said that the stars that fall from the skies are Cyrics running away from Frostmane. Cyrics was widely hated among the gods for his viciousness, so much so that evil the gods of darkness and shadow despised him.

    Cyrics had tried for centuries to kill Frostmane, but never could. Every wound that would have murdered a god seemed to heal instantaneously. Cyrics then presumed that Silvanus had enchanted the great wolf so that he would never be able to wound it. Cyrics developed a new plan. Knowing that Frostmane was relentlessly chasing him, he led the great wolf to Tyr’s kingdom. Tyr had just lost his hand to Kezef The Chaos Hound – and when Frostmane entered, Cyrics had used an illusion to make Tyr appear as Cyrics, while making Frostmane appear as Kezef the Chaos Hound.

    Tyr, believing that Frostmane was Kezef struck a mighty blow and drew blood. Perhaps because of his own ego, Cyrics revealed the truth, rather than allow the charade to continue. Tyr, realizing what he had done felt great shame and called for Silvanus. He took great pleasure in seeing Tyr’s shame, Frostmane’s wound, and the hurt in Silvanus’ eyes.

    As Frostmane bled, drops of blood fell to the world. Those that were touched by the blood of Frostmane were granted wondrous powers, and those powers carried on in their bloodline for generations.

    My name is Kergal, and my bloodline has been blessed by Frostmane, who died that night. If you were to look at me, you would think I was simply a barbarian and nothing more. I stand just over six feet tall, adorned in furs from polar bears. I have a weapon whose hilt is also wrapped in fur. But it’s my eyes that give me away. Like all who are touched by Frostmane’s blood, my eye are not the traditional brown of all my people – rather they’re blue – and they almost appear to look like sapphire.

    When I was born, I was immediately given over to the Shamans. My own family was not permitted to raise me, because of my blessing of Frostmane’s blood. I was given the best care that I could possibly be given – often times, given food while the rest of my tribe was starving.

    There had been a band of gnolls called the Skulldiggers that had taken up residence in the frozen wastes not far from my village. Food on the frozen tundra is similar to finding food in the endless sea of sand – simply put there was some, but not enough to go around.

    Eventually, under new leadership, the Skulldiggers gained the courage to attack our village. I had wanted to go to the town’s defense – but the Shamans insisted I was too important to be wounded in such a battle, and that the others would take care of it.

    The Skulldiggers were driven away – eventually – but to a great cost to our village. Sixteen had been slain, and eight taken away as prisoners. One of those eight was my sister. While I had never had the chance to know her because I was forced to spend time with the Shamans who were “preparing me for my destiny” – there was no denying that she was my sister – born of the same blood as myself.

    On top of that, there was no plan to track down and free those who had been taken or extract our revenge for this attack. Despite the commands of our Chief, who followed all the words whispered in his ear by the Shamans, I denied our Chief’s command to remain calm.

    I grabbed my spear, and began tracking the Skulldiggers. I had tracked them to their den, where I had single-handedly killed three of them, and found evidence that the others had moved on. But among the things I found in the den were three members of my tribe, who had been dragged off, now dead. This made me fearful that my sister’s fate would be the same if I did not find her.

    I found another den – this one looked to be older than the previous one. Probably one of their original dens as they moved about, relocating, hoping to find food. This den had no gnolls but it did have two more bodies from members of my tribe, both of which had been dead for two days, at the most.

    Two more bodies were found, while I was tracking them – leaving the last one to be my sister.

    The trail however, came to an end near a merchant’s road – and three gnolls were found slain. Undoubtedly they had tried to attack the merchant caravan for supplies, and perished, but there was no sign of my sister.

    Had she been taken with the merchants? Was she a slave? Or was she wounded and taken to be healed?

    The caravan seemed to be moving southwest. From what I had learned from the Shamans, a large city called Luskin was in that direction.

    That’s where I would continue my search for my sister…


    Wow that was amazing, I like the spear addition, I might make it an axe since that is a more Barbarian weapon instead of a hunting one, but wow. Thank you so much.

    I can't help myself but request an other one, your writing is insanely good.

    Forgotten Realms:
    Name: Yameia
    Class: Paladin - Devotion
    Race: Tiefling - Zariel
    Alignment: Lawful Good
    Notes:. Her adoptive father found her while he was on adventure with his friends while supporting his order. He found her abandoned at the end of the quest, but couldn't commit himself to ending her cursed existence. I stead he took her in and raised her since she was able to walk, she is devoted to him and loves their cause. She didn't realize how marked she really was until her father sent her out adventuring to learn her way to walk their sworn oath, protect others and fight for justice and protect the weak.

    It is most likely too easier for you, but this thread should keep going as long as you have interest.
    Last edited by AH0098; 2019-07-12 at 07:07 PM. Reason: Addition.

  25. - Top - End - #115
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    Quote Originally Posted by AH0098 View Post
    Wow that was amazing, I like the spear addition, I might make it an axe since that is a more Barbarian weapon instead of a hunting one, but wow. Thank you so much.
    The honor was mine to be allowed to explore your character's background! I am VERY happy that you enjoyed it and will only have to make minor changes (such as the weapon) which means, based off the information you gave me I was able to hit pretty close to the mark! And that's awesome! :) I love when I can share a story based on the information given - and have it land pretty close to what the requester had wanted. :)
    Need a character background written up? I do it for free but I am now taking financial donations through paypal if you're so inclined! <3 Now with over 100 character backgrounds written!

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  26. - Top - End - #116
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    PaladinGuy

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    Sorry I did a slight edit to my previous post.

  27. - Top - End - #117
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    Quote Originally Posted by AH0098 View Post

    Wow that was amazing, I like the spear addition, I might make it an axe since that is a more Barbarian weapon instead of a hunting one, but wow. Thank you so much.

    I can't help myself but request an other one, your writing is insanely good.

    Forgotten Realms:
    Name: Yameia
    Class: Paladin - Devotion
    Race: Tiefling - Zariel
    Alignment: Lawful Good
    Notes:. Her adoptive father found her while he was on adventure with his friends while supporting his order. He found her abandoned at the end of the quest, but couldn't commit himself to ending her cursed existence. I stead he took her in and raised her since she was able to walk, she is devoted to him and loves their cause. She didn't realize how marked she really was until her father sent her out adventuring to learn her way to walk their sworn oath, protect others and fight for justice and protect the weak.

    It is most likely too easier for you, but this thread should keep going as long as you have interest.
    Nice! I will try to write this tonight when I get home (almost time to get off from work!) If I don't get it tonight, it may not be until Sunday (as this Saturday I will actually be DMing for my monthly group!) :)

    And yes - please feel free to keep throwing more characters for me to write up! I love the challenge and opportunity to be creative - and at the same time, hopefully - help someone else with their character. :)

    One of my recent character creations was a Tiefling Paladin that I played... very fun combo.
    Last edited by Tawmis; 2019-07-12 at 07:17 PM.
    Need a character background written up? I do it for free but I am now taking financial donations through paypal if you're so inclined! <3 Now with over 100 character backgrounds written!

    Check out my 5e Module The Secret of Havenfall Manor over at DMsGuild.com! (If you check it out - please rate, comment, and tell others!)

  28. - Top - End - #118
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    Quote Originally Posted by AH0098 View Post
    Wow that was amazing, I like the spear addition, I might make it an axe since that is a more Barbarian weapon instead of a hunting one, but wow. Thank you so much.
    I can't help myself but request an other one, your writing is insanely good.

    Forgotten Realms:
    Name: Yameia
    Class: Paladin - Devotion
    Race: Tiefling - Zariel
    Alignment: Lawful Good
    Notes:. Her adoptive father found her while he was on adventure with his friends while supporting his order. He found her abandoned at the end of the quest, but couldn't commit himself to ending her cursed existence. I stead he took her in and raised her since she was able to walk, she is devoted to him and loves their cause. She didn't realize how marked she really was until her father sent her out adventuring to learn her way to walk their sworn oath, protect others and fight for justice and protect the weak.
    It is most likely too easier for you, but this thread should keep going as long as you have interest.
    Done! Thank you for this one! I quite enjoyed it! (I've been using the Red Eye Orcs in other people's backgrounds, so it was actually kind of nice to even "flesh" them out, so to speak)...
    The vision mentioned in the end is Zariel's castle (got the information from here - under "Possessions" - https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Zariel )
    As always please tell me what you like, dislike, what I got right, what I was way off with, where I can improve, or any feedback!
    Enjoy!
    ==============================================
    I am the mirror of my father.

    He enjoyed retelling the story of how he found me abandoned, and how, despite my outward appearance, he knew he could not abandon me.

    You see, my father isn’t my father by blood. But family has never been just about blood.

    From what he’s told me – and told me often (especially when I was between the ages of five and ten) – was that he had been a part of a caravan – hired to protect the people and the contents that had been traveling north along Trade Way, from Dragonspear Castle when a band of Orcs known as The Red Eye attacked.

    The Red Eye Orcs were a ruthless lot – sometimes attacking and killing for the sheer pleasure of it.

    When some of the Orcs had managed to escape with one of the maidens, my father and his best friend, also a Paladin of Helm, like my father gave pursuit, while the rest remained to defend the caravan in the event the orcs looped back around or planned a secondary ambush.

    The pursuit led into the High Moor – an area known to be infested with not only goblins and orcs – but a far more dangerous threat lingered in the High Moor – trolls.

    My father and his best friend, Arith moved cautiously, but as quickly as they could, so they would not lose sight of the Orcs. The Orcs knew they were being pursued so as they got closer to their destination, they purposely broke off from the main group to cause confusion if someone had been tracking them. But my father and Arith were already close enough to see them to know what they were trying to do. They focused on the leader who had been dragging the female prisoner along.

    “It’s weird isn’t it,” Arith whispered as he moved some brush aside, “that they attacked the caravan and only kidnapped a woman? They didn’t attack it to try and get weapons or kill for the sheer pleasure of it, like this clan is known for.”

    “They’re up to something,” my father had told him. “We just need to find out what.”

    As Paladins of Helm, protection is what they had primarily focused on – and fighting honorably. But there were circumstances and individuals who did not deserve to have mercy bestowed upon them – and the Red Eye clan was close to the top of that list. My father stepped out and the two orcs standing guard at the entrance glanced at each other and smiled as they drew their crude, bloodstained weapons.

    In a normal situation, two Red Eye orcs might actually defeat a trained Paladin of Helm. There were rumors that the Red Eye broke away from Gruumsh and devoted their souls to Orcus, lord of the undead, who bestowed upon them a sense of killing – and the ability to fight on when the body should already have collapsed, giving them an exceptional endurance to pain and suffering.

    As they rushed towards my father, Arith sprung from the side, shouting – throwing them off – causing them to pause a moment. That had been all it took. My father brought his blade cleaving straight across, severing the head of the closest one, while Arith impaled the other directly through the ribs and heart. Both bodies seemed to growl and hiss for a few moments before accepting that death had come for them.

    “Pleasant,” Arith said sarcastically as he pulled his blade out of the orc’s body.

    Blood oozed into the thick, muddy waters of High Moor.

    Arith and my father enter the cave, each of them with their backs to the wall. They peered into the main chamber and saw what appeared to be the orc chief. He was shouting at the woman they had taken in common, “Tend to the girl. She dies. You die.”

    Girl? Both Arith and my father exchanged curious glances and scanned the room. That’s when they had taken notice to a small bundle atop of a shrine.

    “Mother’s milk,” the Orc chief snarled.

    “What?” the woman asked, shocked and stepping back. “But I,” she clutched her breast, “I have no mother’s milk.”

    The orc chief lunged forward just as my father stepped in and shouted, “Hold, beast!”

    The orc chief turned. “Humans,” the words hissed from his lips like a venomous snake. He shoved the woman aside as she slammed into the side of the cave. He drew a large scimitar and lunged forward, wildly swinging, putting both my father and Arith on the defense.

    It was one thing to anticipate a sane man’s next strike; it’s another matter to try and anticipate a wild man’s attack. There was no rhyme or reason, nothing to set up – simply a flurry of blows. “Zariel will feast on your pure white souls!” He hissed as he locked blades with my father, then shoved him back.

    Zariel – formerly an angel who fell, when she became obsessed with war. That would certainly explain the Red Eye’s bloodlust – so it wasn’t Orcus as the Paladins suspected. Arith cut into the chief’s sword arm, but that seemed to do little to slow the fanatical chief. My than once my father delivered what should have been fatal strikes through the chief’s body – but still the orc chief fought on. It was not until Arith had managed to strike the orc chief with the hilt of his blade that seemed to momentarily stun the orc, giving my father the opportunity to decapitate him.

    Both my father and Arith sheathed their blades. My father rushed to check on the woman who had been abducted while Arith checked on the mysterious child. After confirming that the woman had been only stunned and suffered a small gash to the back of her head from hitting the wall, my father turned to see Arith drawing his blade while he stood in front of the child. My father rushed to his side and put his arm on Arith’s blade arm. “What are you doing?” he asked.

    “Look,” Arith said, staring down at the infant.

    My father admits he gasped the first time he’d seen me – with purple-blue skin, yellow eyes, and small sprouting horns – my father and Arith both immediately recognized me as a Tiefling.

    “It must be a spawn of Zariel,” Arith growled. “That’s why the orc was so concerned for its well-being.”

    “No,” my father held Arith’s sword arm.

    “What are you doing?” Arith asked as my father scooped me into his arms.

    “She’s just an infant,” my father replied. “We can’t kill her.”

    “She’s a Tiefling with Zariel’s blood,” Arith remarked. “She’s destined to be driven by the same blood lust these Red Eyes are. If not worse, having her blood flowing through her veins.”

    “Are we not Paladins of Helm,” my father said, staring into my eyes. “Is our mission not to protect those who cannot protect themselves? She has done no evil. If she is raised properly, she may be saved.”

    “Saved?” Arith asked stunned. “You can’t be serious.”

    My father shot his good friend a knowing look, and Arith sheathed his blade. “Fine, but this is all on you.”


    My father named me Yameia – which in the ancient tongue means ‘of shadow and light’ – and old Elven word that was used to describe eclipses.

    My father taught me everything he knows. Taught me how to fight for the right, defend the weak, be the light the world needs. When he became too old to venture out into the world he gave me his sword, and told me to become the blade of justice.

    I’ve set out to do as my father did. I am devoted to Helm. I am devoted to my cause.

    I just don’t know how to deal with the recent nightmares that have come… showing me some distant castle in a bleak land… where bodies hung to the walls on the outside and screamed in eternal pain…
    Need a character background written up? I do it for free but I am now taking financial donations through paypal if you're so inclined! <3 Now with over 100 character backgrounds written!

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  29. - Top - End - #119
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    I am also just loving simply reading what you come up with. There's an idea for a different PC that's been floating around in my head for a while, and I'd be really interested to see what you would come up with, if you don't mind:

    Name: Taman Brightwood
    Race: Human
    Class: Wizard
    Background: Investigator
    Character traits: Likes nothing more than a good mystery, can stare down a hellhound without flinching
    Ideal: Obtain justice for those who have been wronged
    Bond: Would do anything for the other members of my old unit in the watch
    Flaw: Can't resist a pretty face
    Skills: Perception, Arcana, Investigation, Insight, Persuasion

    Going with Resilient (Con) as the free feat from variant human for the slight noir detective feel, which also fits with the flaw!
    Last edited by Jaryn; 2019-07-13 at 07:41 PM.

  30. - Top - End - #120
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    Quote Originally Posted by Jaryn View Post
    I am also just loving simply reading what you come up with. There's an idea for a different PC that's been floating around in my head for a while, and I'd be really interested to see what you would come up with, if you don't mind:

    Name: Taman Brightwood
    Race: Human
    Class: Wizard
    Background: Investigator
    Character traits: Likes nothing more than a good mystery, can stare down a hellhound without flinching
    Ideal: Obtain justice for those who have been wronged
    Bond: Would do anything for the other members of my old unit in the watch
    Flaw: Can't resist a pretty face
    Skills: Perception, Arcana, Investigation, Insight, Persuasion

    Going with Resilient (Con) as the free feat from variant human for the slight noir detective feel, which also fits with the flaw!
    First! Thank you SO much for the compliment!
    Second - I've never done a noir detective type thing before... or noir in general.
    But I put on some noir music on Youtube and closed my eyes and let my fingers type...
    I may have gone entirely TOO noir for what you wanted, but I had fun doing it...
    If it's not something you like or doesn't come close to what you want - let me know and I am happy to rewriter it. :)
    As always - ALL feedback is welcomed - good, bad (as long as it's constructive) - let me know what you like, hated, whatever! Replies in this thread keep it alive and bumped! So not only do I thrive on it, it also gives others the chance to discover this thread. :)

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

    “Murdered you say?”

    My name is Taman Brightwood and I’ve found myself in the middle of a murder investigation. I’ve spent my early years as a part of the City Watch, trying to do what was right for the town of Havenfall. More often than not, there were those that were mugged or robbed, and the ones who were a witness never stepped forward, making the case on bringing them to justice increasingly more difficult.

    When Mary Twogem was murdered – that’s when I left the City Watch and took up learning magic. I figured I could twist the mystic arts to provide the voices and clues I needed to hear and find. By the time I had learned to manipulate – after all, no one ever masters magic – it was too late to find out what happened to Mary Twogem. But her murdered haunted me –not as in keeping me up at night – but more so never wanting to feel that helpless again.

    I had begun making a name for myself in Havenfall for solving mysteries and handling criminals who tried to push their ways onto innocent people.

    When I saw the beautiful elf maiden, her golden curls bouncing as she walked. Her eyes shimmered like a waterfall and her smile was the rainbow across the heavens. I had watched her from the moment she walked in – her eyes scanning the room. She was a beautiful dame to say the least – and when our eyes locked, I could feel the harpoons of her soul piercing mine as she walked towards me. I tried to look away, keep my cool – but I felt like my tongue had fallen out of my mouth.

    She planted herself next to me, and glanced in my direction and asked, “Buy a lady a drink?”

    “Yes!” I said eager, reaching into my pouch and putting a handful of coin on the oak bar. “Bartender,” I cried out. “Get the lady whatever she wants.”

    “That’s sweet of you,” she smiled timidly at me. “So, are you who you think you are?”

    “Depends if you work for my ex-wife,” I joked.

    “Oh, you were married?” she asked.

    “No,” I smiled. “It was a bad joke. Who is it you’re looking for?”

    “Taman,” she said her voice sultry. “Taman Brightwood.”

    “Well, good news. You found him,” I smiled. By the gods, she was beautiful. The way the light was catching her hair, it was like she had captured the heavens and wove it directly into her golden locks of hair. “And you are?” I asked, extending my hand.

    She took it, and I tell you, it felt like I was touching the hand of an Aasimir. “Goldenleaf,” she replied with a slight smile. “Goldenleaf Streamrunner.” She let go of my hand, reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue to dab her watering eyes. “I believe my husband was murdered,” she whispered.

    “Murdered you say?” I asked. “Why do you think that?”

    “Well, he got involved with some… less than shady people,” she explained. “And he went to go clear things up … and hasn’t come back.”

    “When did he leave,” I asked, leaning forward to comfort her.

    “A week ago,” she answered.

    “That’s a long time,” I nodded. “Do you know who he went to go see?”

    “Brek Twogem,” the wonderful elven woman answered.

    “Twogem?” my eyes widened. I hadn’t thought of the name for a while. “Mary’s son? He’s doing shady deals? His mother would be disappointed…” I heaved a deep sigh. I couldn’t figure out what happened to Mary Twogem, but perhaps I could put that piece of my soul to ease by setting her son on the right path. I looked at the elf and smiled, “I’ll take the job.”

    “We haven’t discussed a cost?” she asked, puzzled.

    “Listen if I can turn Mary’s son’s life around,” I said, “and figure out what happened to your husband, then this is all on me.” I looked at the dame one more time as I slid my drink away from me and grabbed my hat, tipped it towards her, grabbed my coat and walked outside. I stood in the rain for a moment. My heart was heavy. I hope that Brek can be set straight.

    I walked through the street, the moon dogging me. I reached the Twogem residence and gave a rap on the door. Brek answered the door and I peered directly into his eyes. “Listen, don’t jerk me around kid. Have you got anything to do with the disappearance of Goldenleaf’s husband?”

    “Me?” Brek looked astonished. “Did that dame send you this way claiming I rubbed out her old man?”

    “She did,” I replied. Looking at Brek he looked honestly surprised. That was good.

    “Listen, I don’t have anything to do with that,” he assured me. “It’s true he came by – but that’s because he was looking for a gift for his dame. I sold him a bracelet. He paid in gold and left. I never saw him after that.”

    My gut told me the kid was telling the truth. But that left me wondering where Goldenleaf’s husband might have disappeared to. I decided to return to her and see if I could speak with her more. She lived in a large manor, and greeted me at the door, asking if I had found any clues.

    I told her I hadn’t – yet – but I was not going to give up. As I walked in the manor I threw my coat over one of her couches and glanced around the room. “What exactly did you husband do? This is a pretty nice spread you got here.”

    “He was a Wizard,” she replied, “specializing in illusions.”

    Then it donned on me. Illusions. I sat down and looked at Goldenleaf. “When I was speaking to Brek, he kept referring to your husband’s significant other as ‘dame’ – not once did he say ‘wife.’ I hadn’t thought much of it, especially after I got the feeling that Brek did not have anything to do with your husband’s disappearance. But Brek was raised as a good kid, to be respectful… The fact he referred to you as ‘dame’ hadn’t crossed my mind until now. He wouldn’t refer to you as ‘dame’ – he would have referred to you as ‘wife’ when speaking about your husband.”

    I stood up. “Your husband is cheating on you,” I said as I turned and picked up my hat and turned to face her. “But I suspect you knew that already. And that you probably knew he had left Brek’s after buying a bracelet for his mistress. I highly suggest you release him from the basement before the City Guard gets here. If I hear that your husband is dead, trust me,” I opened the door, “I will come for you.”
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