PC Backgrounds for your Usage

[The Great Hairy]

Gidday all,

In the spirit of Aegis's thread with number-crunching PCs, I thought I'd offer up some PCs a-la The Great Hairy style. This is the type of stuff I expect from my players (or offer to a GM when I am playing a new PC).

Rastogan Quickfingers - Rastogan (or Rasty to close friends) was born to very low class parents in the Gnomish city of Dybellia. Early life was quite a struggle, since the only income the family had was from scraps they could beg, or whatever Rasty's mother (Kyssia) could steal. Rasty's father (Giogran) was addicted to blackweed, and prone to fits of violence. Giogran used to beat Kyssia often, as well as Rasty, his younger brother (Tandro) and younger sister (Meekis).
In this environment, Rasty grew up quickly. By the age of seventeen, young for a gnome, he was running errands and couriering small items for the local thugs and thieves. He earned his nickname by his skill at picking pockets and palming items - although these were often stolen by Giorgran when he got home.
When Rasty was twenty two, he saw his father beat Tandro so bad that the boy nearly died. In fear, he fled home and tried to hide out in the upper class area of the city. Quickly arrested for attempting to steal a noble's fat money pouch, Rasty ended up in gaol.
Whilst in gaol, Rasty met and befriended an old cleric of Ithorian - the gnomish god of Healing, Peace and Forgiveness. The cleric (Otorigen), was in gaol for political reasons - which he refused to discuss. Otorigen taught Rasty to read, write and to think and reason. Long nights were spent arguing philosophy, theology and local events and politics.
After two years, Rasty was released, his time done. Sorry to leave Otorigen (although he promised to write regularly), Rasty decided rather than heading back to his previous life of poverty and depression, he'd try something new. Something different...


And so begins Rasty's life as an adventurer. What is he? Thief, Cleric, or something else entirely? Will he confront the demons of his past? What happened to his siblings, his parents? What about the thugs and minor crooks he used to deal with? What of Otorigen?

Y'see when I look at a PC's background I want hooks. Plot points. Anything I can write a decent story around, to draw the player in, to get them excited in the game. From that background, a dozen plots are already bubbling through my brain...

Let me know what you all think!

Cheers,
TGHO

[Rob-hin]

Now this is more up my lane! I have tonsof characters laying around. Some even used in stories written here in stories DM'ed by Aegis or Magnus.

My first character ever, it's an oldie and I altered it a few years back.
This is the old one:

After some weeks, Faig’der realised that owning your own stand on the market isn’t as easy as it seems. Having good products alone isn’t enough; people need to be persuaded into buying the goods for a good price. This proved to be a problem since he wasn’t good at talking to people.

So he decided that if people would take advantage of him, he might as well take what was rightfully his. When showing customers his goods, his hands carefully made their way into the customer’s pockets. After all, he still needed to eat.

Faig’der mainly sold potions made of the poison of venomous creatures such as snakes and spiders. He caught the animals and brewing the potions himself. Catching these animals without getting bitten required speed and precision, he got better and getter at it. His speed and skill grew with time and getting bitten went from often to seldom.

The marketplace is a chaotic place, and for an Elf to have his stand next to a Dwarf just added a little extra frenzy. Faig’der regularly got agitated by the loud shouting Dwarf trying to sell his weapons, who on his turn just didn’t like Elves. Most of the time the two ignored each other, but it had come physical argument in the past. One day, Faig’der decided he had enough of this life. He released his captive animals into the wild, stole some of the Dwarfs weapons and rode of on his horse.

Unsure what to do with his newly found freedom; Faig’der travelled the Sword Coast always keeping a low profile. He was last seen travelling east from the city of Nashkell.

And this is the changed one:

Being a child with an elven father and a human mother, Faig’der felt like he had much to prove. All of his friends were pure blooded elves and he was known as the half human. Naturally, he didn’t like this one bit.
He went to great lengths to prove himself to them, getting himself into trouble on more the one occasion.

One day, a traveller came to town, a human. He wore expensive looking clothes and seemed to be unarmed; carrying only a quarterstaff. People like him came by often, drawn to the city because of its reputation of superb magical item which were created by the talented elves who lived there.

Faig’der and his friends were up to their usual mischief, harmless fun mostly.
Seeing this as a good opportunity to be the bravest of the group of boys, Faig’der got an idea. “See that guy? I bet he’s got a lot worth stealing, just watch me…”
He snuck closer, keeping himself hidden from the man’s sight. Once behind him, Faig’der let his hand slide into the man’s pocket. Just as he was about to pull his hand back, with whatever he had gotten hold of, the man turned and grabbed him by the wrist.
“Stealing from me eh?” He shouted with great anger in his voice. “I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t forget!” Then he pushed Faig’der to the ground and started making strange jesters while speaking strange words.
As Faig’der rose to his feet, about to turn and run; he felt his limbs harden. He was unable to move and as he looked down, he noticed his skin was turning grey… stone grey. The man quickly disappeared after this, leaving behind a statue of Faig’der.

It took his family almost two years to save enough money to get another spell caster to reverse the spell. All this time, Faig’der just stood there. His face showing the great panic he felt at that time, but other then that, completely lifeless.

After this experience, Faig’der vowed to get back at this unknown wizard.
As soon as he was ready, he bought the equipment he needed and set of, away from the city he loved so much. Bitter and full of hate towards this wizard, or all wizards for all that matters. To increase his chances against this guy, he started studying the arts himself. Combined with his speed, he knew he would get him. There was no doubt in his mind.

It’s hard for him to let the experience go. Especially since him returning to flesh had some side effects. His whole body had turned to normal, except for his hands. Bits and peaces of it were still covered with a layer of flexible, though hard, stone. So, he wraps his hands with bandage, to keep it hidden from sight.

I liked the character so I played it twice.

[Galuf the Dwarf]

This is one I created on my own - a Half-Gold Dragon Half-Shield Dwarf Paladin of Moradin for the Forgotten Realms setting named Droggen Flameheart. Hopefully the time and place agree with eager other well enough. Unfortunately, though, I originally created Droggen as a 7th-level Paladin, so I just thought I'd give his general background.

Droggen is the son of a Shield Dwarf warrior-smith, Felber Flameheart, in Citadel Adbar and a female Gold Dragon masquerading as a female dwarf messenger from the Sword Mountains named Delrina Stoneheart, who was delivering a message about an impending goblinoid invasion. The dragon, known as Herendaisindia, had caught sight of the besieged messenger when she ran into a bugbear ambush on the road to Silverymoon, the dragon fending off the creatures. At the sight of the battle, she met the dying she-dwarf, and pledged to bring the message to the kingdom with due haste and assuming the woman’s identity to further the cause.

When she reached her northern destination with the slain she-dwarf’s message, Felber was the first Adbar dwarf that she had met. After delivering the message to King Harbromme, Herendaisindia – still in the guise of Delrina – volunteered to take part in the defenses of the upcoming battle. In such, she had actually saved the life of Felber Flameheart from the blade of a stealthy hobgoblin chieftain, setting the benchmark for the relationship that would spawn a figurehead for the dwarf kingdom’ guard. At the end of the war, Herendaisindia made her decision to settle with the dwarves and learn their ways, occupying an abandoned dwelling by Felber’s and claiming to have lost her inheritance to the goblinoid horde.

Eventually, they married in the Year of the Mace, 1306 DR. Droggen was born soon after, much to the shock of his father when he looked upon the strange infant that lay in his wife’s lap. Realizing the error of her judgement, Herendaisindia ran off into the night, taking her true form and flying off. A twice-shocked Felber Flameheart was left with a heavy heart after that evening, having to contemplate what must be done with the creature that was his child. After the city council received word of the smith’s plight, they arranged for the infant Droggen to be raised by a widowed priestess of Moradin. Eventually, Felber slowly warmed up to his half-dragon son, and so took charge of his paternal burden after 10 years of heartache and bewilderment. He raised Droggen to understand the use of the forge, and was astounded by his son’s resistance to the flames and heat. From his foster mother, he learned the importance of healing and kindness, and the teachings of Moradin the Soulforger. At an early age, the half-dragon half-dwarf showed sings of promising martial prowess and spiritual discipline, eventually enlisting within the growing ranks of paladins in service of the Dwarffather to better serve Citadel Adbar.

Droggen has handsome features for the child of a dwarf and a dragon. His bearded face bears a few draconic whiskers upon his chin, adding to the appearance of his golden-brown beard and hair. His face appears mostly draconic, save for it being a hint stout and pushed in at the nose, and a hint round and ruddy at the cheeks. His teeth are the length of sewing needles, though being shaped and as sharp as daggers. Droggen’s clawed hands are very stout and robust, appearing more ready to grip a weapon than to be used as weapons in their own right. He appears more robust than the tallest dwarf at 4 feet 6 inches tall, even with just an inch being the difference in height.

[The Great Hairy]

Ha! Good stuff guys. I love it. Here's another one for you:

Vedrryan the Dwarven Druid (I actually have played this guy for a while).

The Dwarven city of Nur'kathu'ren stands at the back of a huge Underdark cavern. The city itself, carved from the living rock of the cavern walls, is a miracle in defensive design and military excellence. The Dwarves of Nur'kathu'ren are embroiled in a continuing war with several small groups of Derro, whom employ guerrilla tactics, and whom do not seem to have a central base. The Dwarves are constantly uprooting small groups of Derro, only to find other groups spring up somewhere else nearby.
Vedrryan, when young, was quite the normal dwarf boy. Quiet, unassuming, dedicated and reliable, he applied himself to his studies, both arms and weaponry as well as letters and general knowledge. However, unlike many Dwarves, Vedrryan displayed a deep interest in nature and the natural world. A lot of his questions to tutors concerned the creatures of the Underdark, or the wide range of fungus the Dwarves cultivated for food. Furthermore, Vedrryan had (in the eyes of his parents) the unfortunate habit of bringing home stray animals or insects and attempting to domesticate them.
When the time came for Vedrryan to choose his profession, he was rather confused. His mother (Natrynia) wanted him to follow the Clan's main profession of smith, his father (Druenbol) suggested warrior. Vedrryan wanted neither. In his studies, he had read about the Surface, with its wide range of natural habitats and creatures, and these he dearly wanted to experience. Furthermore, the ways of animals and plants were incredibly fascinating whereas Vedrryan thought that hitting metal with hammers sounded quite dull.
Exasperated, Druenbol and Natrynia arranged for Vedrryan to be sent to a distant cousin's dwelling, in the human city of Hordendac. The cousin (Inmyru the Broken) was a strange Dwarf who had actually left Nur'kathu'ren after his immediate family had been killed by the Derro.
After a long trip, Vedrryan arrived in Hordendac (which was rather strange and wonderous to the young Dwarf), with a letter of introduction to Inmyru (called "The Broken" because his heart had broken when his family was slain). Inmyru was rather surprised to be visited by his young and distant relation, and initially had no idea what to do with Vedrryn. Inmyru was a merchant, and mostly dealt in iron and coal, mined by the Dwarves and then sold to the humans. Vedrryn wasn't really interested in learning the merchant's trade, and much preferred to wander the nearby hillsides and woods.



That's the inital part of Vedrryn's background - it goes on for a couple more pages (which I won't write up here, it's too long!).

Have a go with that, people.

Cheers,
TGHO

[Rob-hin]

My most recent character, a druid/ranger/Sensai gnome who rode a dog.
I don't like the dogrider class, it's really weak so thats why I didn't use it.

Chade Wolfrider

The moon’s silver rays lit Chade’s face as he looked out his window, he couldn’t sleep. Not tonight.
Chade rested his tired head on his hands and stared out the window. Snow had come early this year, earlier that night, the first snow started falling and it hadn’t stopped since. It wasn’t so rare that some snow had fallen this early, but normally it would clear up quickly. This time however, a snowstorm had caught the village by surprise and it started snowing like it was the heart of winter. The streets were covered with snow as Chade watched the guard Kinko, who had the night duty, walk by. He sure didn’t want to be him right now.

But the storm wasn’t the reason Chade couldn’t sleep. He turned his attention from the window and glanced at Glacier, a white wolf / huskie crossbreed. The dog stretched it’s paws in her sleep.

Chade was about to turn his attention outside again as Glacier woke up and started withering softly. Chade immediately stormed out the living room and into his parents bedroom. “It’s time! It’s time! Wake up!”

All went well that night and the next morning they all sat around a peacefully sleeping Glacier. Beside her laid a small nest of puppies, their eyes were still closed and they were totally bad but they were all in good health. Glacier had given birth to three strong puppies. Chade was totally obsessed by these small wonders, he couldn’t keep his eyes of them as he sat there until he finally fell asleep.

In the years that followed, Chade and the puppies grew closer. He and his father trained them every day. One of the young dogs and him seemed to be drawn to each other. While other kids played together, Chade and his dog didn’t need anyone else but each other. His mother worried about this lack of social contact but his father let it be. Secretly, he recognised himself in this picture.

Chade’s father, Beldar, was a well known character in the village. He was part of the well trained Halfling Wolfriders unit. This was the most noble unit in the village.

He village was quite remarkable, Halflings and Dwarves lived together at the base the Star Mountains in the High Forest. They worked closely together with the Dwarves. The Halflings and the Dwarves shared recourses and defended the village together. The Dwarves made an impressive defence with their big shields and swords. The Halflings on their mouts functioned as scouts and cavalry. The two together proved an impressive defence.

Chade wished to be know for his own actions, not the accomplishments of his father. He didn’t like it when someone called him ”The son of Beldar” he was very proud of his father’s accomplishments never there less.

In the years that followed, Chade grew up to be a well skilled Wolfrider, just like his father was in his time. He seemed to have a closer bond with his mount then his fellow Wolfriders though. This was not strange considering he and his mount grew up together. For his mount was the Glacier’s puppy, Chade had named him Snowstorm, after the storm in the night he was born.

Chade’s closest friend besides Snowstorm was dwarf named Tarf a talented Paladin of Helm. Together they dreamt of heroic deeds and grand adventures. Little did they know that adventure was soon to come and that they would play a big role in it.

[Galuf the Dwarf]

Well, here's a Frost Giant Jarl I thought up one day, this one also capitalizing on the Half-Dragon template. He can be taken as either a PC or an NPC. Oh, and yes, it is set in the Realms as well. What can I say? I love that place!

Ragnar Froststorm

Ragnar is the son of a powerful Frost Giant Jarl, Karlak Froststorm, and an enslaved white dragon name Gharlihamaxima, in a great Frost Giant clanhold within the mountains surrounding the Great Glacier. His birth was to be a tool by his dragon mother, an attempt to turn her progeny against his father and the entire clan. To bring her plans into fruition, she disguised herself as the object of Karlak’s affection, the clan’s high priestess of Thrymm named Brahneld Glacierchild. One event, Brahneld decided to enter Gharli’s chamber to torture the dragon-slave with her magic. Unfortunately for her, the dragon had neither eaten nor was prepared to take any more abuse from her giant owners, leading to her slaying and eating the Frost Giant priestess upon her entrance into the chamber. To the dragon’s gratification, the magical bonds that held her within the chamber were broken with the death of the priestess, and she used her previously withheld magic to disguise herself as Brahneld. In her disguised form, she seduced Karlak, and so begot upon herself the child that would be both the key to her vengeance and –unfortunately – her demise as well.

When Ragnar was born, his father was filled with shock, wondering what witchery had caused his child to be so malformed for a Frost Giant. Knowing her life to be in danger, Gharlihamaxima changed back to her normal form, and after revealing the whole truth to Karlak, he killed him with a lightning-fast bite upon his neck, beheading the jarl and the Froststorm Clanhold falling like the mighty axe from his lifeless hands. And so, with the mightiest of Frost Giants slain by his own slave, the clan was in upheaval, surrendering to the dragon that has shown more guile than they had thought possible. Ragnar grew close to his mother, though a smoldering fire burned in his heart, a wrath that would eventually find no relent. Gharlihamaxima nurtured her half-dragon child to utilize the gifts of his heritage to the fullest and haphazardly hold the kingdom together, but little did she know the wound she struck in her son by killing his father. When Ragnar was a young adult and times became tough, his fury had reached its limit. He came upon Gharlihamaxima as she barked around his full-blood giant kin, bearing his father’s discarded axe, Frostbite. With eyes bloodshot, and screaming like an insulted Balor, Ragnar flew in upon his mother, and swiped a gash upon her neck. First blood drawn, mother and son clashed in a battle that threatened to shake the great ice castle from its foundation. The shock of her amazing son attacking her had placed the dragon in an impossible defensive position within the cramped quarters, slowing her strikes, and giving a great advantage to her wrathful traitor. In the end, Ragnar slew his once-beguiling mother, severing her head in a similar way that she had done to his father more than a century ago. With his vengeance sated, Ragnar Froststorm used his might to assume command of his shattered clanhold. Many respect their former leader’s son out of fear of his wrath, but for quite a number of them, they saw strength in him that no other jarl before him ever had. Since his rise to power, he has exerted campaigns (some brutal and successful) against Arctic Dwarf and Ulutiun settlements, adding to the number of slaves who toil for his amusement, often slaying themselves in gladiatorial combat.

Ragnar appears like a direct mix between both a Frost Giant and a White Dragon. His head has the crest and sloping features of a White Dragon, with a prominent beard dominating his chin and much of his jaw. His powerful clawed hands can rip flesh and cheap metal alike to shreds, and his pointed draconian teeth sink into meat like mithril knives. He bears his fathers prized greataxe, Frostbite, which was created for his father by Karlak’s lover, Brahneld Glacierchild. Upon his mother’s death, he had her hide crafted into his personal armor, her teeth into his magic necklace and her entire skeleton crafted into the throne upon which he sits each evening to somewhat harshly govern the cavernous ice castle he calls his kingdom.

[Rob-hin]

That's some god writing Galuf.
Very creative, I'm impressed.

[Rob-hin]

Ambron
Dwarven monk

Few Dwarves choose the way of a monk, so Ambron can draw a small crowd when he visits an unknown town. Many ask why a Dwarf has decided to practice the art of fighting by the mystical way of a monk. Monks are normally slim and fast, surely a dwarf doesn’t fit this profile.

He lived with his parents in a poor part of town where al lot of thieves and robbers lived, low life scum as his father used to call them. To escape all this, Ambron joined a small group of monks. They thought him the way of knowledge and martial arts. He read all of their books and learned to fight with a quarterstaff or with his bare hands instead of the hammer or an axe, like most dwarfs.

After training in the way of martial arts for years, there was no more the monks could teach him. It was time to set of into the real world, with real dangers. So he did, and after a few years on the road he decided to settle down for a while, so he bought a small house with the money he made while adventuring. It wasn’t much but he didn’t need more.

Short description:
Ambron doesn’t look like an ordinary Dwarf.
He is just a bit taller and pretty slim, for a Dwarf that is. But this is not the most striking ting about him. His bright blue eyes see right through you.
He has a small beard by Dwarven standards; a long beard could block his actions in a fight. However, he took great pride in his once long beard, and he would like it back. He is thinking about letting it grow again.
Ambron has studied laws with the monks and he tries to follow them to the best of his abilities.

[Galuf the Dwarf]

Let's hope this shakes some life into this thread

Jared Goldclaw
Werebear Paladin of Mielikki

Jared was born to a werebear and a female human ranger, both inhabiting the Arch Wood outside Archendale in Northcentral Faerun. His werebear father, Haggren, was a benign but reclusive lycanthrope who watched over the hills against any incursions, particularly poachers and foul beasts. His mother, Shalla Owlchild, was a ranger devout to the godess of the forests, Mielliki, who was once rescued from her deathbed by Haggren after being ambushed by a squad of orc hunters. In the time of her gradual recovery, they had slowly bonded, and so Jared eventually came into their world.

Jared grew up with the love of his parents, learning the ways of the forest, and mastering his lycanthropic powers at a young age. In his later youth, his parents urged him to take up the path of the ranger, but young Jared heard a different calling, and from a source that he believed had also touched his mother. On his left shoulder, he bore a birthmark in the shape of a unicorn, the symbol of Mielikki. Though he was not very comfortable being amongst people, he set out to Shadowdale with what little gold his mother had left in her belongings - along with a huge longsword that his father gained from aiding a dying firbolg warrior - and entered Highcastle in Harrowdale to train as a paladin. Though he succeeded in hiding his lycanthropic powers, many in the area were suspicious of strange boy who joined the order.

Eventually, Jared satisfied his instructors and they let him go, partially out of understanding the young man's urges to return home to his folks and tell the good news. His jolly spirits were short lived, though, for as he was returning to the forest cave he knew as home, he found it abandoned save for his mother's pale corpse, a broken arrow in her side. Distraught and seeking justice, Jared searched all of the forest until he found his father faltering in combat with a human dressed in dark leathers and baring a bow and cruelly barbed arrows. The battle was joined soon after, Jared taking it to the deranged poacher with fervor and abandon. With the will of Mielikki and the ferocity of his werebear blood coursing in his veins, the young lycanthrope then shifted into his hybrid form and brought the poacher on his back with a mighty swipe of his sword. He offered the wounded assailant his chance to surrender, who - fearing failure more than the wrath of another god - drew his own knife and chose the judgement of his own origins instead, thrusting the weapon into the large yellow Z that covered the heart of his leather vest. His family's attacker dead, Jared immediately rushed to his fathers side, who had cowered back when his own son joined the fight. Only then, by looking into the clouding eyes and foaming mouth of his ursine father did the paladin realize that the arrows of this poacher were poisoned, and that his father would soon join his mother in the afterlife. The young bear-man wailed as the life in his father's eyes faded, and now the lone bear-man was left with no people to call kin any more. After his day's mourning had fulfilled at dusk, he gathered his father's body and brought it to the cave he had called home for years, burying the bodies of his fallen parents in a large cairn of mountain stones just nearby.

Jared is a rather tall and robust young man, sporting jet black hair and a short, well-trimmed beard on his chin, along with a mildly hairy torso that offsets his otherwise well-cared physique. He wears little in the means of armor due to his tendencies to favor his hybrid werebear form in strenuous combat conditions. Of the few possessions that were left with the death of his parents, the werebear paladin holds his father's sword and his mother's darkwood composite longbow, which she used to hunt roving monstrous animals to protect their home. Among other articles, he carries a wooden pendant carved into the symbol of the Forest Queen, which was given to him by a local circle of druids and rangers of Mielikki around Harrowdale, along with the mysterious symbol of the poacher that killed his parents, which he learned from other travelers is related to the vile group known as the Zentarim.

Jared Goldclaw is aware of his lycanthropy being a means for many to avoid his company, so he mostly works alone in defense of the forests within the Dalelands and the travelers who come through. Already, though, he has rescued a few travelers from small villainous incursions within the forests he calls home, leading to the building tales of a bear who fights for other people's sake or of an unarmored paladin who lives in the local forests. Perhaps Jared will know as much love as he did from his parents. Only time will tell.

[AarronIkarus]

This is one that I listed in the "favorite character" thread.

Errin was a child of a less than priveleged household. He was fostered out to a mage of local reknown at an early age ('round about 4 y/o). He spent the next four years living with the mage and learning whatever the mage could teach him. Unfortunately, Errin had no real talent for magic. He spent most of the time Playinf hide and seek with his mentor's familiar (a farie dragon). Shortly after Errin turned 8, the mage's tower was attacked by a band of raiders looking for powerful magic items to take back to their leader. The mage, taken by surprise, had just enough time to send Errin away before he was slain by the raiders. The young orphan wandered the wilderness for the next few days without direction. After a week of this he was found by a band of nomadic elves. Within this band was a couple who, for reasons unknown, could not have children of their own. They took Errin in and raised him as their own. It was during this time that he picked up the nickname of Quickfist. As a human living among elves, he had to learn early how to defend himself against the predjudice of those around him. One day, when he was twelve, he was out hunting on his own. When he returned, he found a scene of devestation where his adoptive family had set up camp. A band of orcs had come through while he was out hunting. They had totally destroyed the encampment. From that moment, he swore hs vengeance and has hunted orcs ever since. He has not been able to track down the band responsible for destroying his family, but he has never given up.


A bit cliched, perhaps, but when you consider I came up with this one while I was in boot camp, I think it's pretty good.