As I search for new campaigns to join, I seem to be churning out a lot of bad character backstory fiction. I decided, just for the heck of it, to post this one. Feedback is welcome, critique will be graciously accepted.
~~~~~~~~
Marial Behrsdotter
My first memory is playing with my brother in the fields outside our home in Celene. We were not elves, mind you -- a fact of which we were reminded, from time to time, but for the most part, the elves of Celene loved my parents just as they loved the forest around them. Many pilgrims would relate tales of the goddess Ehlonna as they shared our meals and a nights lodging, for they believed the beauty about them was the gift of Ehlonna. My mother would smile her gracious smile, but every morning she would tend the forest from dawn until dusk. She said once, in a rare moment of pride, that you could see where her hands had touched. My father simply smiled, and went back to his work.
It was toil, you see, that my parents loved. They tended the forest and the plain; they knew each tree by its name, and how it might be used. I think I must have spent one night in three at home, no matter how much I preferred my bed. Yet I learned from them, my parents, of the winds that tell the weather to come, and the magic in a simple berry. I learned to take the weak, and leave the strong. I learned the secrets of the world -- to respect my home, but to respect simple survival more, for that is the truest impulse of nature. My mother was a courageous woman. If there is any gift she can give me, I hope I share some sliver of her strength, for she could persevere in the face of a hurricane, tame the meanest drought, and challenge the angriest bear. May she rest in peace.
Celene took no part in the Greyhawk Wars. In our little cottage, we hardly knew they were happening. We had only the stories of a few passing monks when Celene closed her borders.
The need for aid was dire; it must have been. For one night, a season ago, a dark shadow crept within our firelight. There were many of them; too many. Far too many. I could feel their hated with every touch, and they spoke of our betrayal, of their slaughtered wives and infant children. Of massacre, and death.
My mother fought them. She traded them, hate for hate, these abominations to life, to all that was natural. From wells I had never known she tapped the secrets of the wild. Pillars of fire and ice. Beams of blinding light. Swarms of hungry beasts.
Yet her hate would avail her not. For each that she felled, another took its place. In all, nearly half their number remained when she could fight no more.
They looked at me, and I knew my fate. My brother clung to my skirts; he wanted to hide himself behind me. The fear was overwhelming. They smiled. They lingered, savoring my fear, and the moment I could not know would come... for my mother rose, at last. She turned her hollow eyes on my brother, and she cursed him for his cowardice. She taunted him toyed with him, hinted at the death that was to come. The beasts savored our fear. They reached out to us, and pulled away our lives. Our hope. At last, my mother lashed out.
My brother fell. I cried. I pleaded. I begged to Ehlonna.
And as they came to take me as well, I saw them for the first time. I saw them, in their pain. In their cowardice, in blaming everyone but themselves. In their hurt. In their fear, in the world and the next. And, I think, they saw it as well. I could feel them in my heart, and they were reminded, I think, of what it was to be alive. To be imperfect, afraid,... innocent.
I have never thought of myself as innocent, yet the word seems right, somehow.
And as the first rays of the sun touched our simple home, the creatures melted and vanished. Their thoughts, thier fears, slipped from my mind, like a nightmare, after waking.
Yet still my brother lay dying, filled with the foul energy of a mother’s hate.
I do not know what became of my father that night. He never returned that morning, nor in all the season since. Yet in his absence, I found the strength to something that he and my mother would never have done. Something I am unsure they would even approve of. I asked for help.
I have always loved my brother. He was one of the few joys in our household. While we would work, to him it would be play, and he made my work... lighter. He does not deserve this.
I prayed to Ehlonna as he lay on the edge for days. I held him, even as the cold hate grew within him, even when I could feel it seeping from his skin.
In the end, Ehlonna granted my prayers, for my brother still lives. I know little of the ways of Ehlonna, but when I think of it, I wonder if I did not give a half of my life for his.
I have not been the same since. I can barely lift the stacks of cordwood that I once carried dozens of during the course of a day. My brother can barely lift his head... the darkness still fights within him. I have not seen him smile in months.
I have been thinking, these past months, of the nature of Ehlonna. I think, in the end, she helped me twice. Once with the beasts of shadow, and once with the healing of my brother. Both times, I could do no more, and so I begged her help, and she was there.
I think Ehlonna loves us all. There is a time to struggle, to make our own way, to use our connection to the world she has provided. Yet she is most truly there for us when we ask her aid in need.
And now I am in need. I can provide for my brother and myself, yet my supplies dwindle. My brother and I are sick, we are weak, and I fear for our lives in the wild.
I have made a raft, and I shall take my brother and sail down the Handmaiden, and into the Azure Sea. From there, we shall trust in Ehlonna’s winds to guide us. Someday, I shall find a way to cure my brother. It is the greatest gift I may hope for of my goddess, Ehlonna.
I leave this note, that whoever may find use for it may take shelter in the cottage. The land is blessed, and it shows the bounty of many years of toil. May it shelter you, as it sheltered my family, these may years. May Ehlonna and the spirit of my mother watch over you.
Blessed be.
-- Madrial Behrsdotter of Celene
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Character Development:
Brother: At the time of this writing, Timmith is suffering from severe permanent drain effects (effective Str 1). In addition, he is still tainted by the touch of undeath... he had begun the transformation to undead before Ehlonna’s miracle restored him to life. It is entirely possible that he and Madrial may become separated during the “special event” at the start of the campaign, in which case he may recover somewhere which allows his darker impulses a freer reign. Note that Madrial will NEVER harm her brother, and it is very unlikely that he would harm her, given that they share each others lease on life. If / when he reappears in the campaign, play up his bitterness, the inferiority complex over the hate of his mother, etc. If restored to full strength, he will have identical physical scores to Madrial, but may somehow compensate, and is likely to have different mental attributes.
Madrial’s curse: Madrial has only half of her vitality remaining. Her physical stats are extremely low, and she will incur penalties for aging at twice the usual rate. At the beginning of the campaign, she considers this sacrifice well worth the life of her brother. When she discovers the “quick and easy” version, she is likely to feel less happy about it; it remains to be seen whether she blames herself (for not knowing), becomes slightly bitter toward Ehlonna (and likely focuses on druid levels for a while), or some combination of both. Of course, the sacrifice is likely all part of Ehlonna’s master plan (since she is a Good goddess), but this is left to the discretion of the DM.
Father: Totally open. He’s a quiet sort, and Madrial didn’t know him all that well. Might return as a good guy, bad guy, or not at all. GM fodder.
The party: She needs the party -- Madrial is not physically capable enough to survive on her own. They are her only connection to home in a foreign land, and as their healer, she appreciates feeling needed, especially given that she doesn’t contribute much in terms of front-line battle skill. Plus, being good aligned, they might be willing to help her brother...
The quest: Madrial will follow the quest for several reasons. Out of necessity for survival, because she believes it is the will of Ehlonna, because she hopes the artifact will provide aid to her brother (and secretly, possibly, to herself), and because she hopes to return home.
Spellcasting: Madrial’s druid abilities are based on her knowledge and personal connection to the magic of the wilderness. Her priest spells require imploring Ehlonna for aid, and are fueled by faith and sincere need. Thus, she almost always casts druid spells first, unless there is significant danger anticipated. Her requirement that people ask Ehlonna for healing, etc. is not callousness; rather, it is required to make the magic work. Her turning ability reflects her ability to bring her soul in contact with the undead, and remind them of what it is to be alive... this frightens the creatures and undermines their desire to harm others, and frequently grants them enough release from their negative emotion that they are able move on to the next life.
Personality: Madrial is soft-spoken and a bit skittish, but full of conviction and empathy. Her greatest fear is being useless to the group, her second is being unable to defend herself (helplessness reminds her of her current physical condition and of the night with her mother). Her strong empathy allows her to understand others with almost supernatural ability... it is this intuitive insight that is reflected in her knowledge skills, rather than formal education. Madriel is an exceptional diplomat and caregiver, and can often defuse tensions before they come to blows. She comes across as utterly non-threatening, and good-aligned people tend to instinctively want to mother her and take care of her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stats:
Druid 0 / Cleric 0
S 7 D 7 C 7 I 14 W 14 Ch 17
Domains: Sun, Plant
Feats: Extra Turning, Track
Skills (ranks):
Diplomacy (4) +7
Animal Empathy (4) +7
Handle Animal (4) +7
Wilderness Lore (4) +6
Knowledge: Undead (4) +6
Knowledge: Nature (3) +5
Knowledge: Religion (2) +6
Intuit Direction (1) +3
Spellcraft (1) +3
Swim (1) -1
Equipment (weight):
Raft (n/a)
Dagger (1)
Sling (0)
20 Sling Bullets (10)
2 Belt Pouches (0.2)
Flint & Steel (0)
Fishing Line & Hook (0)
Holy Symbol, Silver (1)
2 Holy Symbols, Wood (0.2)
Holly and Mistletoe (0)
Waterskin (4)
6 days Iron Rations (6)
2 pp, 22 gp, 34 sp, 20 cp
Light Encumbrance (22.4 lbs)
Druid Spells: 2 / 2
Cleric Spells: 2 / 1+1
Saves:
Fort +0
Ref -2
Will +4
~~~~~~~~
Marial Behrsdotter
My first memory is playing with my brother in the fields outside our home in Celene. We were not elves, mind you -- a fact of which we were reminded, from time to time, but for the most part, the elves of Celene loved my parents just as they loved the forest around them. Many pilgrims would relate tales of the goddess Ehlonna as they shared our meals and a nights lodging, for they believed the beauty about them was the gift of Ehlonna. My mother would smile her gracious smile, but every morning she would tend the forest from dawn until dusk. She said once, in a rare moment of pride, that you could see where her hands had touched. My father simply smiled, and went back to his work.
It was toil, you see, that my parents loved. They tended the forest and the plain; they knew each tree by its name, and how it might be used. I think I must have spent one night in three at home, no matter how much I preferred my bed. Yet I learned from them, my parents, of the winds that tell the weather to come, and the magic in a simple berry. I learned to take the weak, and leave the strong. I learned the secrets of the world -- to respect my home, but to respect simple survival more, for that is the truest impulse of nature. My mother was a courageous woman. If there is any gift she can give me, I hope I share some sliver of her strength, for she could persevere in the face of a hurricane, tame the meanest drought, and challenge the angriest bear. May she rest in peace.
Celene took no part in the Greyhawk Wars. In our little cottage, we hardly knew they were happening. We had only the stories of a few passing monks when Celene closed her borders.
The need for aid was dire; it must have been. For one night, a season ago, a dark shadow crept within our firelight. There were many of them; too many. Far too many. I could feel their hated with every touch, and they spoke of our betrayal, of their slaughtered wives and infant children. Of massacre, and death.
My mother fought them. She traded them, hate for hate, these abominations to life, to all that was natural. From wells I had never known she tapped the secrets of the wild. Pillars of fire and ice. Beams of blinding light. Swarms of hungry beasts.
Yet her hate would avail her not. For each that she felled, another took its place. In all, nearly half their number remained when she could fight no more.
They looked at me, and I knew my fate. My brother clung to my skirts; he wanted to hide himself behind me. The fear was overwhelming. They smiled. They lingered, savoring my fear, and the moment I could not know would come... for my mother rose, at last. She turned her hollow eyes on my brother, and she cursed him for his cowardice. She taunted him toyed with him, hinted at the death that was to come. The beasts savored our fear. They reached out to us, and pulled away our lives. Our hope. At last, my mother lashed out.
My brother fell. I cried. I pleaded. I begged to Ehlonna.
And as they came to take me as well, I saw them for the first time. I saw them, in their pain. In their cowardice, in blaming everyone but themselves. In their hurt. In their fear, in the world and the next. And, I think, they saw it as well. I could feel them in my heart, and they were reminded, I think, of what it was to be alive. To be imperfect, afraid,... innocent.
I have never thought of myself as innocent, yet the word seems right, somehow.
And as the first rays of the sun touched our simple home, the creatures melted and vanished. Their thoughts, thier fears, slipped from my mind, like a nightmare, after waking.
Yet still my brother lay dying, filled with the foul energy of a mother’s hate.
I do not know what became of my father that night. He never returned that morning, nor in all the season since. Yet in his absence, I found the strength to something that he and my mother would never have done. Something I am unsure they would even approve of. I asked for help.
I have always loved my brother. He was one of the few joys in our household. While we would work, to him it would be play, and he made my work... lighter. He does not deserve this.
I prayed to Ehlonna as he lay on the edge for days. I held him, even as the cold hate grew within him, even when I could feel it seeping from his skin.
In the end, Ehlonna granted my prayers, for my brother still lives. I know little of the ways of Ehlonna, but when I think of it, I wonder if I did not give a half of my life for his.
I have not been the same since. I can barely lift the stacks of cordwood that I once carried dozens of during the course of a day. My brother can barely lift his head... the darkness still fights within him. I have not seen him smile in months.
I have been thinking, these past months, of the nature of Ehlonna. I think, in the end, she helped me twice. Once with the beasts of shadow, and once with the healing of my brother. Both times, I could do no more, and so I begged her help, and she was there.
I think Ehlonna loves us all. There is a time to struggle, to make our own way, to use our connection to the world she has provided. Yet she is most truly there for us when we ask her aid in need.
And now I am in need. I can provide for my brother and myself, yet my supplies dwindle. My brother and I are sick, we are weak, and I fear for our lives in the wild.
I have made a raft, and I shall take my brother and sail down the Handmaiden, and into the Azure Sea. From there, we shall trust in Ehlonna’s winds to guide us. Someday, I shall find a way to cure my brother. It is the greatest gift I may hope for of my goddess, Ehlonna.
I leave this note, that whoever may find use for it may take shelter in the cottage. The land is blessed, and it shows the bounty of many years of toil. May it shelter you, as it sheltered my family, these may years. May Ehlonna and the spirit of my mother watch over you.
Blessed be.
-- Madrial Behrsdotter of Celene
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Character Development:
Brother: At the time of this writing, Timmith is suffering from severe permanent drain effects (effective Str 1). In addition, he is still tainted by the touch of undeath... he had begun the transformation to undead before Ehlonna’s miracle restored him to life. It is entirely possible that he and Madrial may become separated during the “special event” at the start of the campaign, in which case he may recover somewhere which allows his darker impulses a freer reign. Note that Madrial will NEVER harm her brother, and it is very unlikely that he would harm her, given that they share each others lease on life. If / when he reappears in the campaign, play up his bitterness, the inferiority complex over the hate of his mother, etc. If restored to full strength, he will have identical physical scores to Madrial, but may somehow compensate, and is likely to have different mental attributes.
Madrial’s curse: Madrial has only half of her vitality remaining. Her physical stats are extremely low, and she will incur penalties for aging at twice the usual rate. At the beginning of the campaign, she considers this sacrifice well worth the life of her brother. When she discovers the “quick and easy” version, she is likely to feel less happy about it; it remains to be seen whether she blames herself (for not knowing), becomes slightly bitter toward Ehlonna (and likely focuses on druid levels for a while), or some combination of both. Of course, the sacrifice is likely all part of Ehlonna’s master plan (since she is a Good goddess), but this is left to the discretion of the DM.
Father: Totally open. He’s a quiet sort, and Madrial didn’t know him all that well. Might return as a good guy, bad guy, or not at all. GM fodder.
The party: She needs the party -- Madrial is not physically capable enough to survive on her own. They are her only connection to home in a foreign land, and as their healer, she appreciates feeling needed, especially given that she doesn’t contribute much in terms of front-line battle skill. Plus, being good aligned, they might be willing to help her brother...
The quest: Madrial will follow the quest for several reasons. Out of necessity for survival, because she believes it is the will of Ehlonna, because she hopes the artifact will provide aid to her brother (and secretly, possibly, to herself), and because she hopes to return home.
Spellcasting: Madrial’s druid abilities are based on her knowledge and personal connection to the magic of the wilderness. Her priest spells require imploring Ehlonna for aid, and are fueled by faith and sincere need. Thus, she almost always casts druid spells first, unless there is significant danger anticipated. Her requirement that people ask Ehlonna for healing, etc. is not callousness; rather, it is required to make the magic work. Her turning ability reflects her ability to bring her soul in contact with the undead, and remind them of what it is to be alive... this frightens the creatures and undermines their desire to harm others, and frequently grants them enough release from their negative emotion that they are able move on to the next life.
Personality: Madrial is soft-spoken and a bit skittish, but full of conviction and empathy. Her greatest fear is being useless to the group, her second is being unable to defend herself (helplessness reminds her of her current physical condition and of the night with her mother). Her strong empathy allows her to understand others with almost supernatural ability... it is this intuitive insight that is reflected in her knowledge skills, rather than formal education. Madriel is an exceptional diplomat and caregiver, and can often defuse tensions before they come to blows. She comes across as utterly non-threatening, and good-aligned people tend to instinctively want to mother her and take care of her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stats:
Druid 0 / Cleric 0
S 7 D 7 C 7 I 14 W 14 Ch 17
Domains: Sun, Plant
Feats: Extra Turning, Track
Skills (ranks):
Diplomacy (4) +7
Animal Empathy (4) +7
Handle Animal (4) +7
Wilderness Lore (4) +6
Knowledge: Undead (4) +6
Knowledge: Nature (3) +5
Knowledge: Religion (2) +6
Intuit Direction (1) +3
Spellcraft (1) +3
Swim (1) -1
Equipment (weight):
Raft (n/a)
Dagger (1)
Sling (0)
20 Sling Bullets (10)
2 Belt Pouches (0.2)
Flint & Steel (0)
Fishing Line & Hook (0)
Holy Symbol, Silver (1)
2 Holy Symbols, Wood (0.2)
Holly and Mistletoe (0)
Waterskin (4)
6 days Iron Rations (6)
2 pp, 22 gp, 34 sp, 20 cp
Light Encumbrance (22.4 lbs)
Druid Spells: 2 / 2
Cleric Spells: 2 / 1+1
Saves:
Fort +0
Ref -2
Will +4
