What's an "interesting" character anyway?
- Thread starter Odhanan
- Start date
Thornir Alekeg
Albatross!
Great points about making an interesting character, and I agree with most of them, but there is one component that also has to be considered: the type of DM and campaign you have. Lets face it, you can make a deep character with the most detailed background along with a range of motivations, but if you never have the opportunity to explore those motivations and depth or somehow call upon that background, the interest in the character will probably not last.
The character has to fit the nature of the campaign. If you make a character that is a diplomat, who loves talking his way through problems and out of trouble, and then you play in a world where you just hunt mindless undead, that character will be less interesting. Of course you can grow the character into something different because of the adversity he faces, but many people might prefer to give up on that character and make something "more interesting" i.e. better suited to the campaign.
This is, IMO, as much the responsibility of the DM to allow the characters to be interesting as it is the players to create a character than can be interesting.
The character has to fit the nature of the campaign. If you make a character that is a diplomat, who loves talking his way through problems and out of trouble, and then you play in a world where you just hunt mindless undead, that character will be less interesting. Of course you can grow the character into something different because of the adversity he faces, but many people might prefer to give up on that character and make something "more interesting" i.e. better suited to the campaign.
This is, IMO, as much the responsibility of the DM to allow the characters to be interesting as it is the players to create a character than can be interesting.
sniffles
First Post
My impression of BroccoliRage's original post was that by "interesting" he meant "weird/strange/odd/confusing/difficult". Races and characters should be interesting, IMHO, but they don't need to be full of complexity or "flavor text" to be interesting. It's what happens to the characters and how you play them that makes them most interesting.
TheYeti1775
Adventurer
I gave my DM the following for a Dawnforge character background, mainly because I came in at 7th and the rest of the party already had some Legendary Points.
Is this the kind of intersting thing you all are looking for.
Still have 4 1/2 years of background to cover this only covers to age 21.
Lorac Dargaard (age 26, Fighter 7 (27,250 exp need 750 to make 8th))
Son of Baron Jekak Dargaard (Fighter/Aritocrat, age 52)
and Lady Cadlye (died during Rennaq's childbirth)
Grandson of Garibond Dargaard (Legendary Fighter) (died about 3 years ago)
Siblings: Dynad (1st born, brother, age 31) - Doesn't understand his brother's need to
adventure, after all the people are there to provide for him. Small
twinges of jealous to Lorac's popularity to the general populace.
But knows this can used to his advantage when he becomes the
head of House Dargaard. (Aristocrat)
Cassie (2nd born, sister, age 28) - worries about Lorac's safety when he is away.
Studies (Shapper) divine magics.
Rennaq (3rd born, brother, age 21) - feels Dynad suffocates him with rules, and
longs for the freedom Lorac enjoys. Looks for any excuse to sneak
out and enjoy mingling. (Rogue)
Garibond Dargaard, was renown for his skill upon the battlefield. His remarkable good health let him
live to a ripe age of 82 years of age. Many said he had cheated death so often that it had forgotten about
him as his years climbed in number.
Most were dismayed when Lorac began his fighting instructions, that old Garibond himself saw to his
instruction. During this time Garibond shared stories of how their family came by their crest, telling the
stories of wild adventure and a dragon named Ofkry (insert proper name here). Lorac always took it
with a grain of salt, surely his grandfather an old man did not fight along side a dragon, much less ride one.
On his 16th birthday, Garibond took Lorac to one of the lower levels of their manor, "I think your ready
for this," as he opened a massive lock on a door Lorac had never been through. Within were chests,
desks piled with paper upon them, but what caught the eye was the fine suit of armor and shield standing
tall and ready upon its stand for someone to use. The Armor was on of the grandest things Lorac had
ever laid eyes upon, his dismay was oblivious when his grandfather moved to it and said, "Well boy
are you going to try it on? Ofkry gifted it to me herself, in her honor I had our smithies and shapers fashion
the crest upon the armor and shield."
As Lorac tried the armor on, he could feel it conforming to him, almost feeling natural, "Grandfather, this
should goto father or even Dy...."
"Nay I've chosen you, you have it in ya boy to lead men. Your brother has the right to lead men by his
station and birth, you boy were born with the inner ability to truly inspire men."
"You will discover the inner powers within you to do good for the people you lead, they will come out in time,"
as he catches Lorac's puzzled look. "They can't be taught son, they will come forth when they are needed.
Even to this day I can increase my strength and agility for a time."
"That's how you keep up in our sparing," the realization dawning on Lorac as Garibond's smile grew.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two Years later - Lorac at 18
His skill ever increasing, he was given command of one of his father's guard companies. Taking heed to his
grandfather's advice, he spent all the time he could with the men. Learning their names, and those of their
families. Then the goblinoid attacks begin, daily leading his men on patrol. Skirmish were a regular occurrence
almost daily, his Sergeant fell once near the end of one such battle. Dismounting and dispatching the goblin ,
quickly he knelt beside the man. Seeing the life energy slipping from, his men surrounding him he wished that
he could heal the man. Then the gasps of his men brought his senses to him as he could feel the warmth in his
hands, seeing the Sergeant's wounds closing, he could feel the life force of the man growing slightly. His men
murmuring how Lorac was 'immortal-touched'. (Lesser Spellcasting - Cure Light Wounds).
Lorac found he could on a limited basis cure with his touch, it couldn't heal all wounds fully, but it could keep
a man from death's door until a true healer could attend to them.
It took a month of hunting but they found the leader of the goblinoids, a Tiefling by the name of Pryde. Upon
confronting him, Lorac moved in for his attack, Pryde was quicker. The arcane magic hit Lorac full force, but
dissipated on contact with him. (Spell Resistance versus Evil) The confusion evident on both their faces, the
Tiefling began a second casting. Before Lorac could react, a series of arcane bolts hit him. Again they faded
into nothingness against him. Quickly not counting his good fortune he ran the Tiefling Mage through.
His men spread word among the local populace, of how Lord Lorac shrugged off the spells of the evil
'archmage' leading the goblinoid horde..
(Legendary Point one qualifying section)
At 19 he was feared lost due to a cave-in, while mopping up the remainder of the goblinoids in their lands.
Ever determined he pressed forward his attack alone and bloody, decimating the horde before him. Goblinoids
that survived and fled to this day still tell tales of the golden (skin tone) warrior that could not be defeated.
He found 5 prisoners that day, and freed them. It took 4 months of leading them through tunnels, defending
them from the dark creatures below, 4 months before the light of day graced their faces once again. Finding his
way back to civilization leading the small group, was not easy, it took another 2 and a half weeks surviving the
wilds till they came across a House Dargaard patrol. The men of the patrol were flabbergasted that their Captain,
their Lord had returned. The freed prisoners were quick to tell all of Lorac's battle to free them, and defending
them those long months in the tunnels.
(End Point one)
(Legendary Point two qualifying section)
At 21, word of a renegade band of Ogres were taking part in raids, in leading his company in search of them
he saw the futility of a straight on attack, his twenty men would be no match for the nearly thirty well-armed
ogres he saw below them in the copse of woods. That's when he saw the challenge of rulership, unfold before
his scouting eyes. The idea formed before his men could talk him out of it, preparing himself for coming day.
He remembered his grandfather's words of inner strength, strength of minotaurs ogres and giants (Lesser
Spellcasting II - Bull's Strength). That night he practiced the necessary words in the giant tongue, the words
of challenge. They easily rolled from his tongue, his men instructed to witness and not interfere, and if he
were to fall they were to ride for reinforcements.
Even as his men tried to talk him from his course of action, he mounted his horse and trotted to the encampment.
He was challenged as he approached by two of the Ogres obliviously acting as sentries. When he did not stop
they challenged again brandishing their weapons menacingly.
Lorac looked at them with his own stare of intimidation, and nearly perfectly in the Giant tongue, "STAND
ASIDE, I COME FOR THE RIGHT OF LEADERSHIP", the two Ogres were dumbfounded at this human. They
stood aside, knowing to refuse a challenger would do nothing but bring bad luck to their tribe, bound by custom
and tradition, they warily escorted Lorac to the chieftain.
Lorac did not speak, he simply dismounted pulling the deer laid across the back of his horse, tossing it in front
of the chief and shaman, then his belt money pouch open spilling the coins over the carcass.
The chieftain began laughing, "You want to challenge me human, my ogres will rip you limb to limb, you've only
met two of the requirements, wealth and food providing. You still have to beat my trophies as he throws down
his trophy belt of scalps.
Now it was Lorac's turn to laugh, removing the most precious gift his grandfather had given him, unwrapping it
from its velvet cloth holding it so the chief could see and the shaman could examine, then speaking "I CHALLENGE".
In his hand laid a single scale, that even in the dim morning light shone as bright as a sun as the fire light danced
off its bronze texture.
The shaman's words, "Dragon Scale", brought a fearful murmur through the crowd of Ogres, even a trace of fear
flickered across the eyes of the Chieftain.
"So be it, you challenge, I choose weapons. Your challenge has been accepted," even as he spoke the words he
moved fast, faster than Lorac believed possible. The sword came forth from it's sheath to cleave through this
fool of a man that dared to invoke the ancient giant custom of challenge.
Lorac quickly pocketed the scale, drawing his sword while stepping back, rising the sword to meet the ogre's swing
the sound of steel clanged through the air. All were surprised when Lorac did not falter but seemed to grow
stronger (Bull Str), it was the last step he took back that fight. After several minutes, Lorac gained the upper hand as
the Chieftain stumbled over the deer carcass. Lorac was upon him quickly, sword at the old chief's throat. "YIELD
OR DIE," and more quietly, "I would hate to lose a champion as great as you."
Letting the Ogre decide, finally saying "I yield". Backing off Lorac quickly sheathed his sword. "Rise champion of
your people, and rejoice for this will end the blood shed between 'OUR' tribe and House Dargaard's subjects.
Notes: Essential Lorac setup House Dargaard has the leadership for this tribe. They are nearly autonomous, having
to provide 2 at a time each month for 'patrol' duties and assist in lumbering and giant trade. They are not allowed to
raid, so using the trade relations and their 'control' of a mountain forest of old timbers has been very profitable for
both the tribe and House Dargaard.
(End Point Two)
Then after taking Leadership I gave a look of my cohort seeking me out.
Rumors & Talk
"Did you here a noble from Reist appeared on the tower last night, he brought with him the heroes that summoned the beast that destroyed the Tiefling fleet."
"I heard he had a dragon egg in his charge, as well. And commanded the chamberlain to care for it as he sought to save his companion."
"I heard a bard sing the 'Lost Son of Daargaard' at the Wench's Cup last night, it told of a Trueborn of Reist being lost to the depths of the earth. Only to return from the grave leading forth others thought lost."
"He has the strength of the giants. One of the palace maids said he carried the egg with ease, but it took four men to carry it off. She also heard he might need a ship."
"They say he has the power of the Immortals flowing through him, in the Bard's song it told of his ability to heal others without prayer."
------------------
Reese moved swiftly through the crowd, his decision to seek out this Noble of Reist fully resolved, he couldn't but help hear the snippets of rumors in the marketplace. Lorac Dargaard of Reist, he was the talk of the marketplace today.
He has to be the one from my vision, the one who is to lead the people. Everything he had heard about this man fit the vision. The dragon, the armor, the only thing that he had not heard as yet was the freeing from the gray rock and a realm of death.
As he sought entry to the Castle to seek out this Noble from Reist, a withered hand grasped him, "They have already left," looking down at the little old lady on his arm. Then realizing who she was, the head priestess of Alharra. Dipping his head, "Mylady, how do you know who I seek?"
A smile crossing her face, "Nothing escapes her attention in Avenar, even young Shapers seeking out nobles from Reist." Seeing the confusion across his face, "she has shown me glimpses of him leading great men around this continent. Don't worry child he will return, or you will find your way to him. It is in your destiny to be with him and assisting him."
"Why don't you walk me back to the temple, you can tell me more of the vision you were given..."
Is this the kind of intersting thing you all are looking for.
Still have 4 1/2 years of background to cover this only covers to age 21.
Lorac Dargaard (age 26, Fighter 7 (27,250 exp need 750 to make 8th))
Son of Baron Jekak Dargaard (Fighter/Aritocrat, age 52)
and Lady Cadlye (died during Rennaq's childbirth)
Grandson of Garibond Dargaard (Legendary Fighter) (died about 3 years ago)
Siblings: Dynad (1st born, brother, age 31) - Doesn't understand his brother's need to
adventure, after all the people are there to provide for him. Small
twinges of jealous to Lorac's popularity to the general populace.
But knows this can used to his advantage when he becomes the
head of House Dargaard. (Aristocrat)
Cassie (2nd born, sister, age 28) - worries about Lorac's safety when he is away.
Studies (Shapper) divine magics.
Rennaq (3rd born, brother, age 21) - feels Dynad suffocates him with rules, and
longs for the freedom Lorac enjoys. Looks for any excuse to sneak
out and enjoy mingling. (Rogue)
Garibond Dargaard, was renown for his skill upon the battlefield. His remarkable good health let him
live to a ripe age of 82 years of age. Many said he had cheated death so often that it had forgotten about
him as his years climbed in number.
Most were dismayed when Lorac began his fighting instructions, that old Garibond himself saw to his
instruction. During this time Garibond shared stories of how their family came by their crest, telling the
stories of wild adventure and a dragon named Ofkry (insert proper name here). Lorac always took it
with a grain of salt, surely his grandfather an old man did not fight along side a dragon, much less ride one.
On his 16th birthday, Garibond took Lorac to one of the lower levels of their manor, "I think your ready
for this," as he opened a massive lock on a door Lorac had never been through. Within were chests,
desks piled with paper upon them, but what caught the eye was the fine suit of armor and shield standing
tall and ready upon its stand for someone to use. The Armor was on of the grandest things Lorac had
ever laid eyes upon, his dismay was oblivious when his grandfather moved to it and said, "Well boy
are you going to try it on? Ofkry gifted it to me herself, in her honor I had our smithies and shapers fashion
the crest upon the armor and shield."
As Lorac tried the armor on, he could feel it conforming to him, almost feeling natural, "Grandfather, this
should goto father or even Dy...."
"Nay I've chosen you, you have it in ya boy to lead men. Your brother has the right to lead men by his
station and birth, you boy were born with the inner ability to truly inspire men."
"You will discover the inner powers within you to do good for the people you lead, they will come out in time,"
as he catches Lorac's puzzled look. "They can't be taught son, they will come forth when they are needed.
Even to this day I can increase my strength and agility for a time."
"That's how you keep up in our sparing," the realization dawning on Lorac as Garibond's smile grew.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two Years later - Lorac at 18
His skill ever increasing, he was given command of one of his father's guard companies. Taking heed to his
grandfather's advice, he spent all the time he could with the men. Learning their names, and those of their
families. Then the goblinoid attacks begin, daily leading his men on patrol. Skirmish were a regular occurrence
almost daily, his Sergeant fell once near the end of one such battle. Dismounting and dispatching the goblin ,
quickly he knelt beside the man. Seeing the life energy slipping from, his men surrounding him he wished that
he could heal the man. Then the gasps of his men brought his senses to him as he could feel the warmth in his
hands, seeing the Sergeant's wounds closing, he could feel the life force of the man growing slightly. His men
murmuring how Lorac was 'immortal-touched'. (Lesser Spellcasting - Cure Light Wounds).
Lorac found he could on a limited basis cure with his touch, it couldn't heal all wounds fully, but it could keep
a man from death's door until a true healer could attend to them.
It took a month of hunting but they found the leader of the goblinoids, a Tiefling by the name of Pryde. Upon
confronting him, Lorac moved in for his attack, Pryde was quicker. The arcane magic hit Lorac full force, but
dissipated on contact with him. (Spell Resistance versus Evil) The confusion evident on both their faces, the
Tiefling began a second casting. Before Lorac could react, a series of arcane bolts hit him. Again they faded
into nothingness against him. Quickly not counting his good fortune he ran the Tiefling Mage through.
His men spread word among the local populace, of how Lord Lorac shrugged off the spells of the evil
'archmage' leading the goblinoid horde..
(Legendary Point one qualifying section)
At 19 he was feared lost due to a cave-in, while mopping up the remainder of the goblinoids in their lands.
Ever determined he pressed forward his attack alone and bloody, decimating the horde before him. Goblinoids
that survived and fled to this day still tell tales of the golden (skin tone) warrior that could not be defeated.
He found 5 prisoners that day, and freed them. It took 4 months of leading them through tunnels, defending
them from the dark creatures below, 4 months before the light of day graced their faces once again. Finding his
way back to civilization leading the small group, was not easy, it took another 2 and a half weeks surviving the
wilds till they came across a House Dargaard patrol. The men of the patrol were flabbergasted that their Captain,
their Lord had returned. The freed prisoners were quick to tell all of Lorac's battle to free them, and defending
them those long months in the tunnels.
(End Point one)
(Legendary Point two qualifying section)
At 21, word of a renegade band of Ogres were taking part in raids, in leading his company in search of them
he saw the futility of a straight on attack, his twenty men would be no match for the nearly thirty well-armed
ogres he saw below them in the copse of woods. That's when he saw the challenge of rulership, unfold before
his scouting eyes. The idea formed before his men could talk him out of it, preparing himself for coming day.
He remembered his grandfather's words of inner strength, strength of minotaurs ogres and giants (Lesser
Spellcasting II - Bull's Strength). That night he practiced the necessary words in the giant tongue, the words
of challenge. They easily rolled from his tongue, his men instructed to witness and not interfere, and if he
were to fall they were to ride for reinforcements.
Even as his men tried to talk him from his course of action, he mounted his horse and trotted to the encampment.
He was challenged as he approached by two of the Ogres obliviously acting as sentries. When he did not stop
they challenged again brandishing their weapons menacingly.
Lorac looked at them with his own stare of intimidation, and nearly perfectly in the Giant tongue, "STAND
ASIDE, I COME FOR THE RIGHT OF LEADERSHIP", the two Ogres were dumbfounded at this human. They
stood aside, knowing to refuse a challenger would do nothing but bring bad luck to their tribe, bound by custom
and tradition, they warily escorted Lorac to the chieftain.
Lorac did not speak, he simply dismounted pulling the deer laid across the back of his horse, tossing it in front
of the chief and shaman, then his belt money pouch open spilling the coins over the carcass.
The chieftain began laughing, "You want to challenge me human, my ogres will rip you limb to limb, you've only
met two of the requirements, wealth and food providing. You still have to beat my trophies as he throws down
his trophy belt of scalps.
Now it was Lorac's turn to laugh, removing the most precious gift his grandfather had given him, unwrapping it
from its velvet cloth holding it so the chief could see and the shaman could examine, then speaking "I CHALLENGE".
In his hand laid a single scale, that even in the dim morning light shone as bright as a sun as the fire light danced
off its bronze texture.
The shaman's words, "Dragon Scale", brought a fearful murmur through the crowd of Ogres, even a trace of fear
flickered across the eyes of the Chieftain.
"So be it, you challenge, I choose weapons. Your challenge has been accepted," even as he spoke the words he
moved fast, faster than Lorac believed possible. The sword came forth from it's sheath to cleave through this
fool of a man that dared to invoke the ancient giant custom of challenge.
Lorac quickly pocketed the scale, drawing his sword while stepping back, rising the sword to meet the ogre's swing
the sound of steel clanged through the air. All were surprised when Lorac did not falter but seemed to grow
stronger (Bull Str), it was the last step he took back that fight. After several minutes, Lorac gained the upper hand as
the Chieftain stumbled over the deer carcass. Lorac was upon him quickly, sword at the old chief's throat. "YIELD
OR DIE," and more quietly, "I would hate to lose a champion as great as you."
Letting the Ogre decide, finally saying "I yield". Backing off Lorac quickly sheathed his sword. "Rise champion of
your people, and rejoice for this will end the blood shed between 'OUR' tribe and House Dargaard's subjects.
Notes: Essential Lorac setup House Dargaard has the leadership for this tribe. They are nearly autonomous, having
to provide 2 at a time each month for 'patrol' duties and assist in lumbering and giant trade. They are not allowed to
raid, so using the trade relations and their 'control' of a mountain forest of old timbers has been very profitable for
both the tribe and House Dargaard.
(End Point Two)
Then after taking Leadership I gave a look of my cohort seeking me out.
Rumors & Talk
"Did you here a noble from Reist appeared on the tower last night, he brought with him the heroes that summoned the beast that destroyed the Tiefling fleet."
"I heard he had a dragon egg in his charge, as well. And commanded the chamberlain to care for it as he sought to save his companion."
"I heard a bard sing the 'Lost Son of Daargaard' at the Wench's Cup last night, it told of a Trueborn of Reist being lost to the depths of the earth. Only to return from the grave leading forth others thought lost."
"He has the strength of the giants. One of the palace maids said he carried the egg with ease, but it took four men to carry it off. She also heard he might need a ship."
"They say he has the power of the Immortals flowing through him, in the Bard's song it told of his ability to heal others without prayer."
------------------
Reese moved swiftly through the crowd, his decision to seek out this Noble of Reist fully resolved, he couldn't but help hear the snippets of rumors in the marketplace. Lorac Dargaard of Reist, he was the talk of the marketplace today.
He has to be the one from my vision, the one who is to lead the people. Everything he had heard about this man fit the vision. The dragon, the armor, the only thing that he had not heard as yet was the freeing from the gray rock and a realm of death.
As he sought entry to the Castle to seek out this Noble from Reist, a withered hand grasped him, "They have already left," looking down at the little old lady on his arm. Then realizing who she was, the head priestess of Alharra. Dipping his head, "Mylady, how do you know who I seek?"
A smile crossing her face, "Nothing escapes her attention in Avenar, even young Shapers seeking out nobles from Reist." Seeing the confusion across his face, "she has shown me glimpses of him leading great men around this continent. Don't worry child he will return, or you will find your way to him. It is in your destiny to be with him and assisting him."
"Why don't you walk me back to the temple, you can tell me more of the vision you were given..."
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