Background Stories!

Let's come up with some interesting back stories for our characters and post them here. That should help us get more into the role playing side of things, as well as help the DM with some campaign hooks.

I just typed this up for my character, let me know what you think! Quinver Tealeaf, the Halfling, was born to Roscoe and Trym Tealeaf in a small, agricultural settlement. While Quinver spent the days of his youth working the farms with his parents, he began to study and practice alchemy. He started small – pest control solutions, healing salves and the likes – but soon became interested in doing much, much more. After a heated argument with his parents about his future as an alchemist, Quinver ran away in the night, taking only a few days’ rations, a small knife, and a some herbs that he had grown. Three weary days later, he arrived in a small port town. At just 12, Quinver had no idea where to begin looking for work, so he set up a makeshift hut on the outskirts of town. His nights from then on were spent gathering and growing various herbs to make potions, which he would then sell in the daytime. Seeing the quality of his products, more and more residents of the community flocked to him for their herbal and potion needs. After two years of working for himself, Quinver was able to hire three assistants, as well as open a shop in the city, near the docks. This allowed him to purchase a wider variety of herbs from merchants that came in from distant lands. Some of these herbs he knew, and still many more were entirely unknown to him. He left his shop in the hands of his assistants most days, and spent the next three years focusing on using herbs and potions to extend life as long as possible. These studies caught the attention of a Cleric that was passing through on a ship, who then sought out Quinver and told him that he too spent his life in pursuit of such knowledge. Seeing the Clerics divine faith and knowing that his potions interacted in strange ways with such magic, Quinver gave his shop to his assistant, and made his way to the local temple to pursue clerical studies. It was there that he learned to harness the magic of the Lifebringer Deity to bring divine health and to increase the potency of his potions. While studying at the temple, Quinver received a letter from the Cleric that got him interested in pursuing such studies, but it made no sense. The letter seemed to be written in code, with the words Concerning Immortality scrawled across the top. Shortly after receiving the letter, Quinver heard that the cleric had been killed seeking a bit of information related to life extension. At 22, after 5 years of studying both alchemy and divine healing at the temple, Quinver decided to make his way to Neverwinter and put his knowledge in use out in the real world, hoping that he could unravel the mysteries of immortality along the way.

It's not much, but it should work. Muradin Ironfist… That name meant quite a bit to some soldiers in the army. Born to the Ironfist clan on a small mountain mining village, he was raised by Dankil and Kathra Ironfist. From his earliest memories, all Muradin knew was combat. Trained by the town guard, he was bred to fight. At the age of 52, just a couple of years after reaching adulthood, he was drafted into the town guard as a footsoldier. He was immensely helpful in driving of bandits that sought after the town’s resources from mining. After proving his worth, 10 years after working with the guard, he was drafted into the military of a much larger town nearby his home. They had been having conflicts over territory with another town, and it was looking to be war. Serving under one of the best captains that the army had to offer, Captain Oskar, his regiment was proving to be one of the most effective. That soon changed. At the age of 82, 20 years after having been drafted, and still participating in a 15 year long war, tragedy struck. Muradin received notice that his hometown would soon be besieged by the enemy army. He attempted to go and defend it with his regiment, but Oskar thought it would be a bad strategic move. Still, Muradin soon left to defend it himself. A few fellow soldiers whom had become friends with him joined him to defend the town. The town soon found itself under heavy fire from the enemy army, but despite the odds, they managed to prevent the invasion, and they managed to deal a crippling blow by defeating one of the enemy generals, however, not all was happy. Muradin would return to the army fort alone, as his friends had fallen in battle. He returned to find a promotion waiting for him, a promotion to Captain. He pressed the issue, and learned that Oskar had died in an attack on the outpost he had been stationed at. Faced with the fact that by disobeying, he had let his leader die, he resolved to follow the law, despite however he felt. Packing his things, he left for Neverwinter, searching for new opportunities.

Finshire Trickfoot grew up with not really knowing his mother or father. With just his Aunt Qelline Alderlead to help him out. Finshire ventured out for the experienced streets of Phandalin where the prospects of coin and platinum were heard to be in abundunce. Using what ever means necessary to survive. Stealing food running messages and odd jobs helped at the start. Somtimes kindness came from the Dwarf merchants to get by. Other times Finshire would sell back there own wares that other theives would steal at a lower rate. He honed his skills that naturally came to the young halfling. Grabbing the attention of the local gang the Redbrands. Finshire quickly fit in. He grew into the life of easy coin, jewerly, and what ever goods to be taken. One night on a what was suppose to be a routine break in. In the house a hooded lattern suddenly appeared. Surprised to Fin! There stood several men that he stole from months ago now in this room just waiting for him. After being beaten to an inch of his young hobbit life. With the Luck of Tymora swinging his way, and a window big enough to TRIP threw. Trickfeet made his way threw the darkness to Halia Thorton telling her what had happen. Sending her well known rage against the Redbrands into a dark spiral. Departing in the early morning hours making his weary body to Aunt Qeline's place. Not paticular proud of how he aquired some of these coins but stashed some coin were she could find it. Finally, leaving Phandalin with curse's in the wind. Expecially at Glasstaff leader of the Redbrands. Promising a day when Finshire Trickfoot would return for Glasstaff and the gang of Rift Raffs. To answer for there undeniable betrayal.

Thoradin's past is somewhat of a mystery. As a young dwarf, he found himself bouncing from one village or city to another. Both of his parents were always in search of treasure and riches-- something Thoradin never had the desire for. Not many other dwarves could understand this-- gold was what made their world complete and the more the better. When he became old enough to set out on his own, Thoradin took to the road helping others along the way. While he is slow to trust others, Thoradin believes that one's actions speak louder than their words. He feels as though respect should be at the very core of every interaction and relationship. Thoradin always sticks up for the less fortunate-- it is those beings that are the most grateful. He hates very few, but has almost an inbred distaste for goblins and orcs. In fact, he has the mantra, "the only good orc is a dead orc." During one of Thoradin's most recent travels, he found what seemed to be an important trinket-- an iron holy symbol devoted to an unknown god. While he is the least bit religious, this symbol has intrigued him and he is determined to discover its meaning and orgin. Until he has saved up enough funds to do some research, he has found himself taking on odd jobs to add gold to his pockets.

Here's mine. Taken forever, but here it goes: Zud, from the lineage of the Dur Authalar, was born in the Jungles of Chult . At a very young age his parents left him to fend for himself. In the jungle survival of the fittest rules the day. The wild dwarf would team up with other young natives and form hunting bands. While hunting the children faced the impending attacks of the Tyrannosaurus Rex. Because of this their hunts were often fruitless and it was not uncommon that a native would die from hunger. One day a human hunter, named Nigel Hawkwinter, from Downshadow was sent by a criminal overlord, his brother Max, to the jungle. This expedition was more about the hunt for Nigel, but he had to help fulfill a contract his brother obtained and started capturing the young dwarves. He sold all but one into slavery. The human kept this one for his own. Zud fought ferociously yet was defeated, but the dwarf never forgot where he came from. The wild young dwarf at age 16 was hard to tame, but the hunter knew with patience he would break. Once he obeyed he was given the name Henry and was forced to never respond to the old name. The slave son became many things: a cook, cleaner, sparring partner, and armorboy. Henry wanted to escape his master, but he could never find the right moment. His master had too much money and too many guards. During the sparring matches a guard, who happened to be a dwarf yet taller, showed him his battleaxe. He loved how it felt. So primal like when he swung a club or stone axe as a kid at dangerous dinosaurs and man-eating plants. One day a sympathetic guardsman slipped him a book about magic. In secret, he would look at the pictures and symbols in the book. He remembered the tales of black magic and knew it was to be avoided. Only the vuddors from the Temple of Thard Harr could use magic, but if it gets him out of this place, it might be worth it. The magic book was written in a language he didn't understand, but Henry was determined to find a way to read it. He convinced that guardsman to teach him the alphabet. It was a slow process, but he practiced every night and eventually was able to read words and then comprehend the sentences. One night Master Nigel woke up and saw Henry and the guardsman conversing. He said nothing, but by the next day the guardsman had disappeared. Henry would lie in bed at night and think about the day the jungle was raided. He missed his tribal band dearly and he knew the secrets of the book could grant his freedom. He kept secretly learning more about wizardry from the book given to him by the guardsman. Eventually the cryptic symbols started revealing their secrets and Henry was thrilled. After many years passed Henry noticed how the human aged quickly, but he himself aged at a much slower pace. The human grew weak and stopped hunting. He spent most of his days at home. Henry waited for the opportunity to use his advantage of aging slower than the human. He was stronger and more agile. One night he had watched the human sleeping and thought how easy it would be to just smother him with a pillow. He would be free. As he hovered the pillow above his master he felt something come over him. His conscience wouldn't let him do it. He wanted to scream so loud and put the pillow to his face. Tears poured from his eyes. Then he put the pillow aside and granted the master goodnight. That night when the tame dwarf slept he dreamed of the horrors of the jungle. "Always on the move, kill or be killed.. the killing never stopped in the jungle". At that moment he thought maybe the city wasn't so bad. The next morning he was woken by loud banging. The old hunter had not awakened that morning. Guards were surrounding his door and bashed it in. Splinters of wood flew everywhere! Then silence... There the old man lie... dead. All the guards took their helmets off and bowed their heads. Preparations were made. His last will & testament spoke of how he came to love the dwarf as a son and gave his entire estate to Henry. Alas, the hunter's brother, the criminal overlord in Downshadow had other plans for Henry. Max found a way to frame Henry by planting his hair on the pillow that he had hovered over his master's head. The overlord claimed the dwarf was a criminal and pinned the death of Nigel on him! Word spread through the town about Max’s story. Every guard who had ever worked for the hunter was angered by the death of their leader. They formed a mob outside of the estate. Having no choice but to leave his fortune behind he pocketed what gold he could, grabbed a battleaxe, the magic book and fled to Neverwinter. He remembered overhearing two guards talk about the numerous adventurous jobs in Neverwinter. Henry made the journey to Neverwinter and found the only job available was shoveling pig shit. It paid only three silvers a day. Most of his free time was spent in the library trying to better his language skills for Common, Dwarvish, Elvish and delve into the depths of Primordial. After a few years pass he has completely mastered three cantrips and is ready to scribe his first 1st level spell. One of his co-workers told him about a notice he saw mentioning a Gundren Rockseeker that was in need of an escort for a wagon of supplies to Phandalin. "Thanks. I think I'll check that out. Sure beats shoveling shit!" he said as his shovel plops into the stinking mess.

Joseph T. said: After a heated argument with his parents about his future as an alchemist, Quinver ran away in the night, taking only a few days’ rations, a small knife, and a some herbs that he had grown. His nights from then on were spent gathering and growing various herbs to make potions, which he would then sell in the daytime. Seeing the quality of his products, more and more residents of the community flocked to him for their herbal and potion needs. After two years of working for himself, Quinver was able to hire three assistants, as well as open a shop in the city, near the docks. This allowed him to purchase a wider variety of herbs from merchants that came in from distant lands. Some of these herbs he knew, and still many more were entirely unknown to him. Henry, my character, likes to gather herbs for brewing beer. Gruit is the way to go he thinks, but this hops thing might catch on. He has a tiny stockpile of each.

Dvergr76 said: Joseph T. said: After a heated argument with his parents about his future as an alchemist, Quinver ran away in the night, taking only a few days’ rations, a small knife, and a some herbs that he had grown. His nights from then on were spent gathering and growing various herbs to make potions, which he would then sell in the daytime. Seeing the quality of his products, more and more residents of the community flocked to him for their herbal and potion needs. After two years of working for himself, Quinver was able to hire three assistants, as well as open a shop in the city, near the docks. This allowed him to purchase a wider variety of herbs from merchants that came in from distant lands. Some of these herbs he knew, and still many more were entirely unknown to him. Henry, my character, likes to gather herbs for brewing beer. Gruit is the way to go he thinks, but this hops thing might catch on. He has a tiny stockpile of each. +1