(no subject)
yeah...so i havent put any work on this thing for a while...not cuz i havent been writing (cuz i have...ive been putting a good bit of work into a big project of mine..and therefore havent really put much together. but ive recently been writing some backstories for dnd characters. the first one was going to be my original character, but things changed, and now im playing something different, so long story short, i've got two backstories. they're pretty well-written in my opinion, and i just felt like sharing (so you wouldnt think that i was dead ;p)
So this first backstory was going to be for a character who was going to start as a rogue, then move on to becoming a paladin eventually to end up with being a Shadowbane Inquisitor. And my character actually becomes good friends with another party member, a character who was originally slated to be played, but got scrapped as well...and I don't think that character ever got named, so I just made one up. And I wrote it as a first-person narrative..for whatever reason.
So…you want to know my story?
Alright…I’ll tell you a story.
This story starts some….35 years ago.
There was a young man who lived in the town of Dithiel. He never had much. He had just finished his apprenticeship to a cobbler, and was searching for a means to make a life for himself. He got a small amount of money from his master, and used it to set up a small shop. His business wasn’t remarkably successful, but he had enough to get by and put a little aside. Then fate intervened. He met a young elven girl (young by elf standards of course). Her family was exiled from the elven lands for some reason or another, and now they were seeking out a means to get by. While the man himself couldn’t do much, he offered what aid he could. The elven girl thanked him and for a time, they parted ways. A few months later, she returned to his shop. While out on an errand, her family had been killed by (presumably) mercenaries from their homeland. Her absence had saved her life. He consoled her and offered her a place to stay. Long story short, they fell in love and had a child.
That child was, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, me. Now…after I was born everything changed. For starters, my mother died giving birth to me. Now with the needs of a child…things were tough for my father. He did whatever he could, but when I was 5…he lost all of his business, and our home was repossessed. We spent the next few years on the streets, begging, stealing, doing whatever we could to survive. Then one day out in the marketplace, it was just after the harvest, so things were bustling, my father and I got separated. I don’t remember exactly what had happened, but I took a sharp blow to the head and fell unconscious. I don’t know how long I was out, but when I woke up I was in an orphanage. The only problem was that I had no idea who I was. I couldn’t remember anything about my past. My name, my parents, everything, all forgotten. Well I guess the Matron and her husband had a little bit of a soft-spot for me, so they gave me a name, and raised me almost as a son among the orphans.
Despite my “son” status with the Matron and her husband, life there was rough, but I doubt you’d know much about that. Well things were extra rough on me. The other orphans rather had it in for me…While I had the advantage of years, they had the advantage of maturity, or in their case immaturity…while I was 7 years old, I was the human equivalent of about a 4 year-old. So that made me “easy-pickings”. Then of course add in the fact that I was the only non-human. “half-breed” “pointy-ears” “freak” I heard ‘em all. For years I endured their taunts. The beatings. And yet I never once ratted them out to my “parents”…I guess as a kid I thought this was like an initiation rite and once they’d had their fun, we could all be friends. I thought wrong. They continued mercilessly…Well, this could only last so long. So…I snapped. One day when we were playing in the courtyard…or rather I was being picked on…I just grabbed the biggest rock I could find…and I started beating one of the kids in the face with it. I just lost control. I don’t know if I killed him…I’d assume not, since I didn’t go to jail. But my parents could no longer have me around…not with such a violent temper. I’d tried to explain how much they’d pushed me and it was their own fault, but to no avail. They provisioned me, and set me on my way.
As the years went by, I slowly started regaining some of my memories-just little flashes here and there, but never enough to sate my thirst for identity. So I drifted for a little while, doing odd jobs, sometimes even just stealing things to get me by from place to place. Then I finally came to Trieto. It seemed to be a young knave’s paradise. So many people, so many pockets. I managed to use some of my…charm to get me a place to stay…a base-of-operations, so to speak. So I settled in. Got to know the area. Made some contacts. All that stuff. So then I got to a point where I thought I knew the city well enough to start milking it for all its worth. And so I did. Apparently I did well enough that I attracted the attention of a minor crime syndicate. They invited me to join their ranks, and so I did. I advanced through their ranks and was eventually brought before their kingpin.
This man, their kingpin, seated on a throne, surrounded by riches, seemed vaguely familiar, almost as though I had known him in a previous life…and then all my memory came back…this man was my father. Apparently, after we’d gotten separated that day, he didn’t know what to do. So he turned to alcohol, became the village drunk and ended up raping the governor’s daughter. They threw him into jail, let him rot for a little while, and then brought him to trial. They found him guilty and sentenced him to death. So they threw him back into jail until they could arrange for a public execution. But he wouldn’t have it; he busted out of prison and fled the city. He drifted and then found some dirt on a noble, and got paid off. Then he started a smuggling operation and was thriving. So I only had one question for him…I wanted to know why he never tried to find me. He told me that he had counted me for dead, so he moved on. So again, I snapped and stabbed my father. Of course now he was no longer the weak man he once was…he just smiled at me and showed me how to really use a blade *motion to scar over his right eye*. Now I don’t know if it was because I was his son or what, but that whole affair was just kinda brushed off. But I grew wary of this group. So I decided I was going to leave it. I just needed to do a few more jobs and then I should have enough to make it big elsewhere.
But I never got to it. One night, I was working…that is to say robbing…a tailor’s shop and I got caught. But not by a guard. Oh no. I wasn’t that lucky. I was caught by a member of the Order of Illumination. Never heard of them? I thought not. They’re a group wholly devoted to finding and destroying evil in all its forms throughout the land. He walked towards me and I felt myself paralyzed by fear. He pulled out the hugest sword I’d ever seen and I knew I was going to die. He looked me in the eyes and I could feel him staring into my soul. He lowered his sword and grabbed me by the collar. I’ll never forget the words he said to me: “This world harbors great evil. And you tread dangerous water. One of your skills could either use his talents to fight evil or spread it. While I don’t sense the taint of evil in you, there is no guarantee that you will be free of it. You live a careless life. You lack discipline and the mindset to properly combat evil. Make your decision now, and make it with all your heart. Fight evil or be evil. Be who you were meant to become” Now, I had no idea who I was “meant to become” but I knew that if I didn’t choose to fight evil, he would have killed me right then and there. So I naturally said I choose to fight evil. Now don’t get me wrong, I harbored no love for things evil. While I may not have been the most law-abiding citizen, I had my sense of honor and pride. I just lacked the fanatical devotism that this man had.
But that was where I shed the life I had worked hard to create, and became the man you see standing before you. He took me away from that town and brought me to a monastery. The things I saw changed me forever. I saw the wounds and diseases caused by the foulest creatures. I saw demons contained and raging against their captors. I saw undead who would literally bite their own limbs to try and escape to mindlessly kill. It scared me. I’m not ashamed to admit it. Those horrors were unspeakable. But I knew I had made the right decision to join them.
So I joined the ranks of the Order of Illumination. I was not yet a Shadowbane, but I knew it was my destiny. So I trained. I learned their ways. I became enlightened. Part of my duties was to be an errand-runner. While others might look down on that sort of a position, I was honored that they would accept me into their numbers.
Then one day I was doing a delivery to Meadowbrook. Fate would have it that this simple town I would meet one of my closest companions, my dearest friend, Talbin. As I was leaving the town, I saw a group of kids harassing someone. At the time I thought it was another kid…turns out it was a Halfling. It was strange, I saw so much of myself in him…which is saying something, since there’s not much of him (AHAAHAHAA). So I stepped in and sent those kids away. I noticed that the Halfling was bruised up pretty bad…but I didn’t really have any skills in healing, so I did the best thing I could think of. I picked him up and ran. I ran until I got back to the monastery. I brought him to the clerics, and they promised they would take care of him.
So over the next few months, I further trained, doing my jobs, and keeping an eye on my new friend. We got to know one another, and we soon became one of the best pairs of initiates. We blended our talents together and were nigh unstoppable. Then one day we were ordered off on a vital mission…
So for my other work, I play a character who is from essentially ancient greece (or its rough equivalent). This character is an Ardent..which is kind of a psionic cleric..but not really. More of a psionic philosopher. But yeah. He has a bit of a penchant for fire (in fact I intend to prestige him into a pyrokineticist) which belies his normally calm and collected exterior. Enjoy:
Alcaeus was born under the wrong set of circumstances. Born into a very superstitious clan during a full solar eclipse, Alcaeus was fated for hardship. And it didn’t help much that his appearance was very unlike the inhabitants of the area. Born with jet black hair, fair skin, and eyes gleaming like rubies where most locals had dark skin, eyes and brown hair. When the clan leader found out that such an abomination, he ordered the death of the child, for he was sure to bring bad tidings to them and the world. Such an oddity born on the day of a solar eclipse was sure to be a bad omen. So he sent his guard in to have the child killed. However, Alcaeus’s parents had a secret. They had not given birth to one son, but two. Identical twins, though one had died in childbirth. So they handed their already-dead child over to the guard while keeping Alcaeus safe and hidden.
On the eve of his birth, Alcaeus’s parents decided they needed to get their son out of there for his own sake. They fled their clan’s encampment to a nearby monastery. They left their son there with the ascetics and returned to their life, forever regretting that they had to give up their sons.
Alcaeus never knew about his true family. He grew up in the monastery, learning their ways to enlightenment and spiritual freedom. His masters however, noticed an extraordinary penchant for thought in the young child. He seemed to draw connections between the natural world and the theoretical universe with ease and did so more efficiently than many of their order who had been studying there for decades. And even more amazingly he had none of the pent-up energy that a child of his age should. He carried himself with such a presence. An awareness of self. And yet he was humble. He did not seek to draw attention to himself. He just wished to fulfill his duties.
However, this was soon to change. One afternoon, Alcaeus was sent to a mountaintop to meditate and ponder on life’s mysteries, when he felt a connection to the primal force of fire. He could feel a huge inferno raging inside of him, trying desperately to be let out. Attempting to still his mind and body as he had been taught, Alcaeus fought this energy. But to no avail. It overwhelmed him, and he passed out. He awoke hours later on that mountaintop, yet it was changed, the ground was blackened and singed. Unsure of what had happened, he returned to his monastery. His master sensed the great change in him, yet could not deny that Alcaeus seemed stronger, though more chaotic in nature. He permitted Alcaeus to continue his studies there, but he knew there were new forces in play in his young pupil.
As weeks continued, Alcaeus seemed to have only one desire- to find out everything he could about this strange force that had seemingly possessed him. He spent many sleepless nights and foodless days enthralled by the countless tomes of the library. Then one day, he felt it again. The raging inferno. This time he hoped his new knowledge could help him. He called upon his inner strength to help him fight, but the aid he received was not quite what he had intended. He could feel this urge to escape the bounds of his life and the limitations of his mortality. So he ran out. Casting off all bonds, he ran. And ran. For three days he ran, freeing his soul, and letting his inner fire burn. Then his euphoria left him. And he was alone and naked, far from any place he could consider home. He surveyed his surroundings, and saw that there was a path laid out for him. Where he had traveled, the ground was singed. Fashioning crude garments out of what little he could find, Alcaeus picked up a nearby stick and began the long hike back.
He arrived to an intense feeling of unease. Walking into the monastery, he was horrified to find everyone dead. Little did he know, but his parents deep secret had gotten out. His mother had been lying on her deathbed, deathly ill from a fever. And she confided in her spiritual advisor that her son still lived, and was in the monastery only a few miles away. Though they did not know whether to trust the dying words of a ravaged woman, they decided to investigate. They brought her husband in, tortured him until he confessed, and then executed him for treason. The clan leader then contacted his agents who attempted to infiltrate the monastery to assassinate Alcaeus. They arrived and were unable to locate him, despite their best efforts (For they arrived shortly after Alcaeus had left). They returned to their leader, and for their failure were put to death. In a rage, the mad tyrant mustered his army and sent them to war on the monastery, thinking they knew what Alcaeus was and were harboring him with the intention of unleashing him on his tribe for dominance.
So they slaughtered every single person in the monastery, just in case the monks had disguised Alcaeus to look “normal”. Alcaeus arrived back a few hours after the army had left, and spent hours trying to find any survivors. There were none. Torn with grief, Alcaeus wept. And for the next three weeks, it poured. Then when the rain had ceased, he arose from his contemplation with a steely resolve. He buried his friends and comrades, and then searched the monastery for supplies. In his master’s chambers, he found a package addressed to him. Opening it he found a set of robes denoting his completion of their monasterial rites along with a set of ceremonial armor and weapons and a finely-woven scarlet cloak (to match his eyes).
Donning his new garb, Alcaeus set out into the world. Bitter at the loss of his companions, yet hopeful for the future, a future full of answers, Alcaeus set out on his adventure.
So this first backstory was going to be for a character who was going to start as a rogue, then move on to becoming a paladin eventually to end up with being a Shadowbane Inquisitor. And my character actually becomes good friends with another party member, a character who was originally slated to be played, but got scrapped as well...and I don't think that character ever got named, so I just made one up. And I wrote it as a first-person narrative..for whatever reason.
So…you want to know my story?
Alright…I’ll tell you a story.
This story starts some….35 years ago.
There was a young man who lived in the town of Dithiel. He never had much. He had just finished his apprenticeship to a cobbler, and was searching for a means to make a life for himself. He got a small amount of money from his master, and used it to set up a small shop. His business wasn’t remarkably successful, but he had enough to get by and put a little aside. Then fate intervened. He met a young elven girl (young by elf standards of course). Her family was exiled from the elven lands for some reason or another, and now they were seeking out a means to get by. While the man himself couldn’t do much, he offered what aid he could. The elven girl thanked him and for a time, they parted ways. A few months later, she returned to his shop. While out on an errand, her family had been killed by (presumably) mercenaries from their homeland. Her absence had saved her life. He consoled her and offered her a place to stay. Long story short, they fell in love and had a child.
That child was, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, me. Now…after I was born everything changed. For starters, my mother died giving birth to me. Now with the needs of a child…things were tough for my father. He did whatever he could, but when I was 5…he lost all of his business, and our home was repossessed. We spent the next few years on the streets, begging, stealing, doing whatever we could to survive. Then one day out in the marketplace, it was just after the harvest, so things were bustling, my father and I got separated. I don’t remember exactly what had happened, but I took a sharp blow to the head and fell unconscious. I don’t know how long I was out, but when I woke up I was in an orphanage. The only problem was that I had no idea who I was. I couldn’t remember anything about my past. My name, my parents, everything, all forgotten. Well I guess the Matron and her husband had a little bit of a soft-spot for me, so they gave me a name, and raised me almost as a son among the orphans.
Despite my “son” status with the Matron and her husband, life there was rough, but I doubt you’d know much about that. Well things were extra rough on me. The other orphans rather had it in for me…While I had the advantage of years, they had the advantage of maturity, or in their case immaturity…while I was 7 years old, I was the human equivalent of about a 4 year-old. So that made me “easy-pickings”. Then of course add in the fact that I was the only non-human. “half-breed” “pointy-ears” “freak” I heard ‘em all. For years I endured their taunts. The beatings. And yet I never once ratted them out to my “parents”…I guess as a kid I thought this was like an initiation rite and once they’d had their fun, we could all be friends. I thought wrong. They continued mercilessly…Well, this could only last so long. So…I snapped. One day when we were playing in the courtyard…or rather I was being picked on…I just grabbed the biggest rock I could find…and I started beating one of the kids in the face with it. I just lost control. I don’t know if I killed him…I’d assume not, since I didn’t go to jail. But my parents could no longer have me around…not with such a violent temper. I’d tried to explain how much they’d pushed me and it was their own fault, but to no avail. They provisioned me, and set me on my way.
As the years went by, I slowly started regaining some of my memories-just little flashes here and there, but never enough to sate my thirst for identity. So I drifted for a little while, doing odd jobs, sometimes even just stealing things to get me by from place to place. Then I finally came to Trieto. It seemed to be a young knave’s paradise. So many people, so many pockets. I managed to use some of my…charm to get me a place to stay…a base-of-operations, so to speak. So I settled in. Got to know the area. Made some contacts. All that stuff. So then I got to a point where I thought I knew the city well enough to start milking it for all its worth. And so I did. Apparently I did well enough that I attracted the attention of a minor crime syndicate. They invited me to join their ranks, and so I did. I advanced through their ranks and was eventually brought before their kingpin.
This man, their kingpin, seated on a throne, surrounded by riches, seemed vaguely familiar, almost as though I had known him in a previous life…and then all my memory came back…this man was my father. Apparently, after we’d gotten separated that day, he didn’t know what to do. So he turned to alcohol, became the village drunk and ended up raping the governor’s daughter. They threw him into jail, let him rot for a little while, and then brought him to trial. They found him guilty and sentenced him to death. So they threw him back into jail until they could arrange for a public execution. But he wouldn’t have it; he busted out of prison and fled the city. He drifted and then found some dirt on a noble, and got paid off. Then he started a smuggling operation and was thriving. So I only had one question for him…I wanted to know why he never tried to find me. He told me that he had counted me for dead, so he moved on. So again, I snapped and stabbed my father. Of course now he was no longer the weak man he once was…he just smiled at me and showed me how to really use a blade *motion to scar over his right eye*. Now I don’t know if it was because I was his son or what, but that whole affair was just kinda brushed off. But I grew wary of this group. So I decided I was going to leave it. I just needed to do a few more jobs and then I should have enough to make it big elsewhere.
But I never got to it. One night, I was working…that is to say robbing…a tailor’s shop and I got caught. But not by a guard. Oh no. I wasn’t that lucky. I was caught by a member of the Order of Illumination. Never heard of them? I thought not. They’re a group wholly devoted to finding and destroying evil in all its forms throughout the land. He walked towards me and I felt myself paralyzed by fear. He pulled out the hugest sword I’d ever seen and I knew I was going to die. He looked me in the eyes and I could feel him staring into my soul. He lowered his sword and grabbed me by the collar. I’ll never forget the words he said to me: “This world harbors great evil. And you tread dangerous water. One of your skills could either use his talents to fight evil or spread it. While I don’t sense the taint of evil in you, there is no guarantee that you will be free of it. You live a careless life. You lack discipline and the mindset to properly combat evil. Make your decision now, and make it with all your heart. Fight evil or be evil. Be who you were meant to become” Now, I had no idea who I was “meant to become” but I knew that if I didn’t choose to fight evil, he would have killed me right then and there. So I naturally said I choose to fight evil. Now don’t get me wrong, I harbored no love for things evil. While I may not have been the most law-abiding citizen, I had my sense of honor and pride. I just lacked the fanatical devotism that this man had.
But that was where I shed the life I had worked hard to create, and became the man you see standing before you. He took me away from that town and brought me to a monastery. The things I saw changed me forever. I saw the wounds and diseases caused by the foulest creatures. I saw demons contained and raging against their captors. I saw undead who would literally bite their own limbs to try and escape to mindlessly kill. It scared me. I’m not ashamed to admit it. Those horrors were unspeakable. But I knew I had made the right decision to join them.
So I joined the ranks of the Order of Illumination. I was not yet a Shadowbane, but I knew it was my destiny. So I trained. I learned their ways. I became enlightened. Part of my duties was to be an errand-runner. While others might look down on that sort of a position, I was honored that they would accept me into their numbers.
Then one day I was doing a delivery to Meadowbrook. Fate would have it that this simple town I would meet one of my closest companions, my dearest friend, Talbin. As I was leaving the town, I saw a group of kids harassing someone. At the time I thought it was another kid…turns out it was a Halfling. It was strange, I saw so much of myself in him…which is saying something, since there’s not much of him (AHAAHAHAA). So I stepped in and sent those kids away. I noticed that the Halfling was bruised up pretty bad…but I didn’t really have any skills in healing, so I did the best thing I could think of. I picked him up and ran. I ran until I got back to the monastery. I brought him to the clerics, and they promised they would take care of him.
So over the next few months, I further trained, doing my jobs, and keeping an eye on my new friend. We got to know one another, and we soon became one of the best pairs of initiates. We blended our talents together and were nigh unstoppable. Then one day we were ordered off on a vital mission…
So for my other work, I play a character who is from essentially ancient greece (or its rough equivalent). This character is an Ardent..which is kind of a psionic cleric..but not really. More of a psionic philosopher. But yeah. He has a bit of a penchant for fire (in fact I intend to prestige him into a pyrokineticist) which belies his normally calm and collected exterior. Enjoy:
Alcaeus was born under the wrong set of circumstances. Born into a very superstitious clan during a full solar eclipse, Alcaeus was fated for hardship. And it didn’t help much that his appearance was very unlike the inhabitants of the area. Born with jet black hair, fair skin, and eyes gleaming like rubies where most locals had dark skin, eyes and brown hair. When the clan leader found out that such an abomination, he ordered the death of the child, for he was sure to bring bad tidings to them and the world. Such an oddity born on the day of a solar eclipse was sure to be a bad omen. So he sent his guard in to have the child killed. However, Alcaeus’s parents had a secret. They had not given birth to one son, but two. Identical twins, though one had died in childbirth. So they handed their already-dead child over to the guard while keeping Alcaeus safe and hidden.
On the eve of his birth, Alcaeus’s parents decided they needed to get their son out of there for his own sake. They fled their clan’s encampment to a nearby monastery. They left their son there with the ascetics and returned to their life, forever regretting that they had to give up their sons.
Alcaeus never knew about his true family. He grew up in the monastery, learning their ways to enlightenment and spiritual freedom. His masters however, noticed an extraordinary penchant for thought in the young child. He seemed to draw connections between the natural world and the theoretical universe with ease and did so more efficiently than many of their order who had been studying there for decades. And even more amazingly he had none of the pent-up energy that a child of his age should. He carried himself with such a presence. An awareness of self. And yet he was humble. He did not seek to draw attention to himself. He just wished to fulfill his duties.
However, this was soon to change. One afternoon, Alcaeus was sent to a mountaintop to meditate and ponder on life’s mysteries, when he felt a connection to the primal force of fire. He could feel a huge inferno raging inside of him, trying desperately to be let out. Attempting to still his mind and body as he had been taught, Alcaeus fought this energy. But to no avail. It overwhelmed him, and he passed out. He awoke hours later on that mountaintop, yet it was changed, the ground was blackened and singed. Unsure of what had happened, he returned to his monastery. His master sensed the great change in him, yet could not deny that Alcaeus seemed stronger, though more chaotic in nature. He permitted Alcaeus to continue his studies there, but he knew there were new forces in play in his young pupil.
As weeks continued, Alcaeus seemed to have only one desire- to find out everything he could about this strange force that had seemingly possessed him. He spent many sleepless nights and foodless days enthralled by the countless tomes of the library. Then one day, he felt it again. The raging inferno. This time he hoped his new knowledge could help him. He called upon his inner strength to help him fight, but the aid he received was not quite what he had intended. He could feel this urge to escape the bounds of his life and the limitations of his mortality. So he ran out. Casting off all bonds, he ran. And ran. For three days he ran, freeing his soul, and letting his inner fire burn. Then his euphoria left him. And he was alone and naked, far from any place he could consider home. He surveyed his surroundings, and saw that there was a path laid out for him. Where he had traveled, the ground was singed. Fashioning crude garments out of what little he could find, Alcaeus picked up a nearby stick and began the long hike back.
He arrived to an intense feeling of unease. Walking into the monastery, he was horrified to find everyone dead. Little did he know, but his parents deep secret had gotten out. His mother had been lying on her deathbed, deathly ill from a fever. And she confided in her spiritual advisor that her son still lived, and was in the monastery only a few miles away. Though they did not know whether to trust the dying words of a ravaged woman, they decided to investigate. They brought her husband in, tortured him until he confessed, and then executed him for treason. The clan leader then contacted his agents who attempted to infiltrate the monastery to assassinate Alcaeus. They arrived and were unable to locate him, despite their best efforts (For they arrived shortly after Alcaeus had left). They returned to their leader, and for their failure were put to death. In a rage, the mad tyrant mustered his army and sent them to war on the monastery, thinking they knew what Alcaeus was and were harboring him with the intention of unleashing him on his tribe for dominance.
So they slaughtered every single person in the monastery, just in case the monks had disguised Alcaeus to look “normal”. Alcaeus arrived back a few hours after the army had left, and spent hours trying to find any survivors. There were none. Torn with grief, Alcaeus wept. And for the next three weeks, it poured. Then when the rain had ceased, he arose from his contemplation with a steely resolve. He buried his friends and comrades, and then searched the monastery for supplies. In his master’s chambers, he found a package addressed to him. Opening it he found a set of robes denoting his completion of their monasterial rites along with a set of ceremonial armor and weapons and a finely-woven scarlet cloak (to match his eyes).
Donning his new garb, Alcaeus set out into the world. Bitter at the loss of his companions, yet hopeful for the future, a future full of answers, Alcaeus set out on his adventure.