Like I warned James, I really get into character backstories. Wanted to play a caster this time since I've been a brute in every other roll20 game I've been in. I've got no idea what Aaron wound up with but I'm happy to re-roll into something else if I'm a dupe. Keivkas, Half-Elf Warlock, The Great Old One, Chaotic Good Background: Haunted One (from Curse of Strahd, really fit the character idea: <a href="https://media.wizards.com/2016/downloads/DND/Char" rel="nofollow">https://media.wizards.com/2016/downloads/DND/Char</a>... (I cannot find an image I really like for him, but that'll do since the armor's not obvious.) Backstory: "Keivkas is the bastard half-human son of a minor Elven noble in Chondalwood. From an early age, he was fascinated by arcane lore but showed embarrassingly little aptitude with the weave. As a young man, his father pushed him towards becoming an archivist in the priesthood of Selune. There he developed a fascination with the contents of the priesthood's ancient library, spending years there cataloging the holdings. He eventually uncovered a forgotten Eldarin tome hidden away in a storage room. He studied it for a few pages, shocked by what he read there, until he suddenly found himself afflicted by haunting visions and began hearing voices speaking in languages he couldn't understand. He burned the tome but the visions and voices only grew in intensity. Overcome, he collapsed in the library. The elders of the priesthood discovered him, revived him, and after studying his condition for a time, unsuccessfully attempted various cleansing rituals. After each attempt, his condition became worse - the visions and voices became more intense and frightening. Deciding that he was beyond their help, the elders made the decision to send him North to Cormyr accompanied by several acolytes. The idea of travelling felt right to him but the destination, Cormyr, felt distressingly wrong. He should be going somewhere else. Some three days into the journey his increasingly strained mind finally broke. He cannot recall the final night with his companions, or what happened to them. His next memory is of awakening alone some weeks later in a brothel house in Calimshan with a fresh new set of intricate interlocking runic tattoos running down his sides, arms and legs, bisecting his body. He also heard a new voice in his head triumphantly crooning "Welcome, child! At last, it is done!" Over the next few weeks, as he recovered in Calimshan, the voice would speak in his head to give him orders, yet would not answer any of his questions. When he would refuse to comply, the voice would rant and scream and show him horrifying visions. When he resisted further, blinding pain -- apparently coming from his tattoos -- became the lever that turned him to obedience. Eventually, as he resisted less often, the verbal demands, visions and pain became more infrequent as the voice took to utilizing more subtle compulsions to make it's wishes known. He eventually came to understand that the voice was that of an ancient entity which was not divine, demonic, nor fey, and while powerful, could not greatly affect things on this plane. He now belonged to this entity as it's tool or avatar, his new tattoos were the chains that bound him to it, and he was now beyond any hope of escaping it's influence - possibly even in death. He discovered there were benefits to this new arrangement, he could manipulate the weave in ways he had not thought possible before. He was suddenly powerful. Ever the scholar, he started regularly recording his experiences in a tattered old volume he found by his bed one morning and doesn't remember buying. He would occasionally awake to find his journal open and previously empty pages filled with insane rants written in another's hand. He knew he should find this disturbing but it was far from the strangest part of his new life. Besides, sometimes reading these pages imparted new magical understanding to him. He began to travel and perform tasks according to the entity's whim, seemingly minor things, thankfully never anything too terrible. His mind would wander while he travelled and he would often reach places without recalling the journey. He became aware that people he met were guarded and unsettled around him. This was new, he had always been quick to make new friends before. It seemed to be something in his eyes - or perhaps the faintly glowing runes visible on his arms and the sides of his face. He took to wearing a hooded long cloak to obscure both. When he found himself backtracking Northwest towards the Sword Coast after arriving within a day's journey of Darromar, he began to suspect that the entity which guided him wasn't entirely sure where it wanted him to go. Further travels reinforced his suspicions; the target of his compulsion to travel seemed to... drift. It wasn't until he arrived in a small mining village south of Neverwinter where a group of adventurers had recently cleared the evil from an ancient Dwarven mine that it occurred to him he might have been seeking not a place, but a person - perhaps a group of them. He wonders what It wants with them."
