Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="DMRob" data-source="post: 4637999" data-attributes="member: 6642">Backgrounds, Part 2Yanni, Elven RogueA small town is expanding, burning forest for rapid expansion. A human architect surveys the recently burned area.  He draws sketches of large buildings as he walks the charred ground, representing a great prosperous civilization without a doubt in his mind. He pauses to admire his sketch. A smile stretches across his bearded face.  The town counsel would surely adore his work. Distracted by the chattering of squirrels, he looks up from his masterpiece to find a small gathering of them surrounding some leather scraps at the edge of the charred field. The squirrels scatter as the man approaches. A small face with blackened cheeks and long ears surfaces beneath the leather blanket. The man scoops the child into his arms.   Seven Summers Later: A small Elven girl, awakens with thought. She surveys her neighbors and friends, neatly packed into pews. They sit, eyes closed in quiet contemplation and prayer in their lavishly built temple of Erathis, all of them human.  She never prays, but rather she watches the faces others make as they close their eyes and bow their heads. She quietly questions their thoughts and motives. Her thoughts race, why is she here? She has heard the elders speak of the rumors of wild elves in the surrounding forests when they think she is out of earshot. She contemplates this, piecing together everything she knows. She comes to a conclusion. Uncertain of what to do about her awakening, she plays it cool, sitting through the worship as usual. She walks towards her human family's home, provided for her in the exchange of tedious chores and mandatory worship. Three children approach from behind. They shout taunts at her, all of which she has heard before. She continues on her path unresponsive to the three. The shouting grows louder. She hears the air tearing behind her. She turns about in time to dodge a large rock jetting towards the back of her head. Without pause, the elven girl grabs at a rock by her feet, hurling it with all her hatred of these bullies. Her target collapses, a slow trickle of blood produces from his ear. A look of shock comes across all of their faces. She snaps out of her astonishment, and lunges at the second boy. Tackling him to the ground, she bashes him in the head with the rock. The third child runs as blood streams down the other's face. She doesn't stop bashing until the crunching of bone and cartilage grown frequent with each blow and the child lay motionless. Splattered with blood, she runs into the nearby forest. She runs for days. Abandoning her human surname, she embarks on her new life free from restraint. Free from the chains of society.Kovrim, Dwarven BarbarianKovrim groaned in the dark.  His head ached in a way not quite like the usual hangover.  Squinting in the dim light, he felt a brief dizziness as he realized he was on the floor, and a hard stone one at that.  It seemed mostly dry and maybe even swept in the last year, so not the worst place he'd ever awakened. Reaching a rough hand to his aching brow, he heard the clink of chains.  He frowned at the manacles clasped around his wrists, then raised his head to also frown at the small barred window set in a stout door.  Sighing, he carefully set his head back on the cell floor. "Great," he mused to himself.  "Prison again."  At least it was quiet. The drink that usually brought him a measure of peace had long since worn off, but he felt alone in the chamber.  Maybe the man-made environs somehow had thrown the nuisances off the scent?  He didn't know, but he wasn't going to look a gift-brief-respite in the, uh, mouth. Peace wasn't usual for Kovrim, to be sure.  His parents, displaying the family's non-conformist streak, were inveterate wanderers, and they never seemed to stay in one place for long.  Except for that year-long encampment with a band of druids, which Kovrim could have done without.  He was just a youth at the time, yet his father had taught him some use of the typical dwarven weapons.  (Bohemian they may be, but the Zarduks didn't throw away the useful bits of theirheritage.)  Kovrim had a good time playing with the local children during their stay, and displayed a measure of his parents' adventurous nature in exploring the surrounding forests. Maybe if he had been more cautious.  Kovrim wasn't sure just what druidic ritual he crept up on...  There was chanting and nose-stinging incense and maybe those creepy animal masks should have warned him off.  Displaying a lack of common sense that would have made his mother proud, he hid behind a tree to watch.  The ceremony progressed, and he felt things in the air he couldn't see, swarming around, drawn to the intonations in the shaded clearing. Hairs rising on his neck, he realized that one of these things had noticed him.  Looming behind him, darker than the shadows that concealed it, something regarded him with bright yellow eyes.  As his eyes adjusted, it took on the form of a massive black cat, radiating strength and grace as it held Kovrim's gaze.  It was the most majestic sight he had ever seen in his life, and he ran screaming from the grove. If the chanters noticed his subtle exit, they made no mention of it.Kovrim thought he caught a few knowing glances over the following days in the encampment, but that was all.  Soon after, his parents decided to move on, and that was the last he saw of the druids. But not all was left behind.  Odd sounds followed him, such as the barely audible padding of feet in his wake, or a faint growl in the distance... ...And they remained with him still.  Even after leaving his parents once he came of age and setting out to make his own name, the otherworldly presences lingered.  In quiet times, which he avoided, he was never without the sounds of skritching claws, hissing, rumbling thunder, or the beating of wings.  So he stayed in rowdy bars and overpacked inns, anywhere the press of humanity drowned out the sounds.  (The odd pint or four didn't hurt either.)  In fights, which Kovrim seemed to find himself in despite his best efforts to be left alone, he often found his actions lent strength and speed beyond his own.  He felt the things that crowded his head even more clearly during these moments, but was helped through many a losing battle by them, and developed a grudging acceptance of this as his lot in life.But why were they so noisy? In the darkened cell, Kovrim dozed, half-awake.  Voices echoed in the hallway beyond the door, interrupting his moment of reflection.Unseen whiskers brushed his forehead, and a rough tongue licked his nose.  "Yeh," he muttered, "I missed you too."Varian, Elven PaladinThe forest was all but quiet. A small babe lay in his mother's arm. She smiled down at the child, and looked to her husband, a glowing smile on his slender face. The elven couple overjoyed with the birth of their child. Only weeks before, the gnolls to the north were in full assault on this little elven village.The whole village was in celebration of the new member to their extended family. A celebratory fire roared beneath the couple's treetop dwelling. A feast had been prepared, friends told stories and jokes of the couple's courtship around the fire. Wine from wild berries was shared among them, as they sang songs into the night.The fire was almost dead, the villagers tired. Most of the villagers had retired to their treetop homes, as dawn was fast approaching, a long day would be ahead of them. A small collection of elves still sat in a circle around the dying flame. One of the few still awake turned his attention away from the village to a yipping sound. He hushed the others just as a swarm of hyena-like humanoids rushed upon those who were unlucky enough to still be awake.                              *                                          *                                        *5 years had passed since young Varian's home was wrecked. He and his mother traveled by the light of the moon through the forest every night in search of a safe place to live. They had stayed at a few villages in the time spent woundering, but none ever felt like home, so they would venture off after a while. Varian learned the ways of the forest, and was taught wilderness first-aid techniques. He was taught that the moon watched over them and that the forest was alive. He never asked about his father because when he did it made his mother cry.While walking with his mother Varian came across a rabbit. Acustomed to and loving of nature's creature's Varian tried to play with the animal. Being timid creatures the rabbit paused for a moment and when the child got down on all fours, he hopped away. Varian, still on all fours hopped after the rabbit as quickly as he good. The rabbit would pause to see if the child was still in chase, and as Varian caught up, would hop away. His mother laughed at the sight and stayed in close trail of her child.Eventually the rabbit hopped into a cave, hopeing to escape the child, but Varian persisted and hopped after the animal. His mother chased after Varian, having a bad feeling about the cave her child was woundering in to. She shrieked as she was lifted into the air by her feet. A large hand was around her ankles holding her upside down, the giant yelled in a strange language, seeming to be saying two things at once. The gaint swung her around, yelling, the woman with what she could see, being flung around, noticed the creatures two heads. The giant lifted her up to be eye level with both heads. Face to faces, the heads ask her a question she could not understand. Varian, seeing his mother grabbed picked up a rock and smashed it against the two-headed gaint's toes. The monster howled in pain as the boy ran off and chased after him to find an arrow thumping into his chest as he left the cave. He screeched and flung the woman to the cave wall and looked for where the arrow had come from. Three more found their way into his chest. He charged into the forest, in the direction of the arrows, but with three new arrows planted into his head, he fell to the ground with a loud roar.Varian crawled over to his wounded mother. He shook her and begged her to wake, Three men aproached Varian and his mother, and stopped 10 paces from the child. The boy took notice, but kept his attention on his mother, shakeing her and sobbing. One of the men approached, with a wave of his hand and a quick prayer, Varian's mother gasped for air. She looked around wearily and held her son.                            *                                         *                                           *For fifteen years, Varian lived among his rescuers. He worked wtih a group in the village devouted to Sehenine, the goddess of the moon, who's light has guided him his entire life. He learned to use Sehenine's powers that had protected him, and channel them for use in protecting others. Though not the strongest fighter, Varian's skill with the blade seems not to match his strength, but his loving personality.</blockquote>

Verification