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How much backstory do you usually premake, and how much do you improv?
Pages of backstory even before the first session  13%  [ 2 ]
I make it up 30 min before the game starts  13%  [ 2 ]
IMPROV!  0%  [ 0 ]
General idea at beginning, but fill in details later  50%  [ 8 ]
Sometimes lots, sometimes little  25%  [ 4 ]
What's backstory?  0%  [ 0 ]
Total votes : 16
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 Post Posted: Tue Apr 10, 2018 5:53 pm 
Joined: Sat Dec 20, 2014 12:35 am
Posts: 2
This topic is for people to post their character from RPG's stories. Stories of their childhood, moments of their life, anything that shaped them

Please say which game system the character is from, and their sorta class - ish?

Comments are appreciated, and if anyone else wants to share their characters (balanced ones), I would love to hear their memoirs


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     Post Posted: Tue Apr 10, 2018 7:09 pm 
    Joined: Sat Dec 20, 2014 12:35 am
    Posts: 2
    Here are two of mine. Both are pretty dark, have explicit language, and deal with not so wonderful topics.

    Aziza Setite - Vampire the Masquerade This story starts in 490ish AD, Baghdad area

    Spoiler: show
    Aziza’s Birth
    Father’s Rules:
    Be quiet and respectful in all things
    Wear your burka
    Listen to your betters
    Stop Doing That
    Be As the Good Wife

    Needless to say, I didn’t follow his rules. He was a traditionalist, and very fearful of the future. He worried for his money, and Abdul’s future. He was always disappointed in his girls. He must have been too harsh on all of us, because Abdul went and joined the army. Allah did not protect him that day. It devastated all of us.
    We all cared for Abdul, he was genuinely kind, and courageous. He didn’t have a head for business, and he toiled so long at his figures. But that was alright. We love him anyway. He is gone now, never to return and never will we even see his body again, just an empty grave. I spent much time with him, even though he was my elder, and a man. I would watch in awe as the tutors explained the nature of all the things in the world. It was wondrous, and made much more sense to me than much of the Qur’an and its teachings. Abdul never minded that I could understand the teachers better than he could, even though he could easily have resented me for my impudence. I trusted him, and he trusted me. Of course it was inappropriate for a girl to learn what men did, so I was banned from listening in. Abdul, may his soul be with Allah, asked me to assist him in his studies. Throughout his lessons, we formed a routine. Father would encourage him to take greater interest in the business, Abdul wouldn’t care, and then I, little old me, would quietly give suggestions to Abdul. These suggestions would then be offered to Father, and Father would praise Abdul.
    But, things were getting worse, and not just in the usual way that things get worse. The trade routes actually were getting very dangerous, and the war was not going well at all. Costs were higher, and yet people had less money. Abdul joined the military. Naturally, Mother and Father got very focused on marrying me off. I realize I was at the proper age for it, but I did not want to be some fat bastard’s third wife, used only as he would a courtesan, and to birth heirs. Why would I want to bring children into the world? I suppose I became very pessimistic without Abdul anymore. How someone so kind, so good, so honorable could die like that, chopped into pieces on some battlefield. So pointless. It was all so pointless. My entire future was planned out. I would become part of some small harem, and then die after having as many children as I could.
    They were not very successful at all at getting rid of me. I was not pretty, nor meek, nor stupid. I thought and reasoned and even under the burka, they could sense my apathy. I cared not at all. Eventually, after two whole years of failed bargaining and searching, they pawned me off onto some pious Egyptian invader. I hated him for Abdul, for the pointlessness of it all. I never met my Mamluk husband until the night of our marriage. He was odd, and chilly, and he seemed as if he cared about this marriage as much as I did. His name is Minkhab.
    When I got to my new demesne, I was still unsure of my place, as all new wives are. I could hardly imagine having multiple servants in a household, for Father had only one cook and one maid employed at any time. Minkhab must have had at least ten, and a maid all to myself. This man was either very rich, or very powerful, or both. I dreaded the idea that I might be the youngest wife, used only as a bedmate. He looked at me as though I was barely more than a piece of meat, casually examining me, always cordial, but standoffish. He spoke not a word to me on the way to my new home, and once we arrived just left for another portion of the house.
    My maid showed me to my room, where to my surprise and relief, there was a single bed. She informed that if the master wanted me, I should always be presentable, at any time. After she left, I marveled at my new room. It was very dark, and there were no windows in my room, but there was a desk, and inside was ink and papyrus. I was allowed to write if I wished.
    Over time I learned things of my place. I was the second and junior wife, and Mena, for that was the senior wife’s name, ever saw much of our husband. We became companions, and were allowed to do much as we pleased as long as we never left the house, and never entered the master’s private rooms. Of course we were never shown to his guests, and did not interfere in his business. I had actually ended up in a good home, and enjoyed it more than my Father’s house. My fears were still there, but mostly relieved. I was not permitted to contact my family, but I accepted that, and was allowed to read in the studies.
    One day as I was reading about the Silk Road, calmly in the study, I heard a muffled thump. I ignored it, but then I heard more. It was coming from one of the bookshelves. I shrugged, and continued reading, but the thumping would not cease. Irritated, I got up to investigate. “Hello?” I called, hoping my fears were just getting the better of me. However, in response, I heard a coarse, muffled, cry. “Help” it said, from behind the shelf.
    There was someone behind the bookcase, and after some investigation, found a small switch on the side. The bookcase slid sideways, and behind it, there was a small chamber. It stank. It was a small, bare, room with a rag mat, and a small chamber pot. The man, crumpled at my feet smelled worst of all. He was unshaven and his hair was matted. “Water…” he croaked, and obligingly I fetched him a glass from the room. Handing it to him I demanded
    “Who are you? And what on earth are you doing locked up in this house? What have you done?”
    He turned to me, with a malevolent eye, and spoke, spitting his words at me. “I am Nafir al Zubal, and I will have no answers for a slut, especially one without her burka. For even I, locked up am better than a shameless bitch!”
    I then slammed the bookcase back in place, and locked it. “Stay in there and rot then!” I retorted. “Huh.” I stormed off to get answers form the housekeeper. She told me not to worry and that my master runs a sort of information brokerage. That man had not fulfilled his end of an agreement. He would be dealt with soon. Barely mollified, I went for the baths with a maid to calm down.
    That night, Minkhab called me to meet with him in his meeting room. I was nervous, because this was the first time I had seen him since our wedding night, and I could be severely punished for being seen by another man without my burka. Minkhab was pale, and the room was lit by candlelight, he was cold, yet businesslike. He was a creepy master, and looking at him gave me the shivers.
    “So,” he said to me, “You found Nafir. Explain.”
    I tried my best to relate the events of the afternoon, all the while my heart was pounding.
    At length he spoke “It would be well within my right to kill him for seeing and insulting my wife. Would you like me to?” Every word he spoke was distinct, and carefully chosen. I was startled by his matter of factness, and considered my words.
    “Pardon my questions, but why was he there in the first place? Did he do something to wrong you?” I decided to just accept the idea of the hidden cells.
    “That he did. He neglected to repay a debt, and his time was to remind him of the virtue of punctuality. He is only useful so long as he repays quickly. I will give you the right to set his punishment.”
    “Thank you master,” I said, bowing my head slightly. “As a dead man would not be useful, allow him to live. But perhaps remind him of good values, and make him permanently useful. Give him a deadline, and if he does not complete his task within that length of time, then dispose of him.”
    “Very well.” He motioned to a servant and ordered, “Bring the two week dosage to Nafir’s cell. We will deal with him.” We went to the hidden cell and shut ourselves in with Nafir. He was asleep, and looked miserable. Minkhab woke him with a kick and began to speak.
    “Look here you miserable piece of scum. You see that woman? The one you spat on, and insulted? She is my wife.” At that Nafir gulped. “Now, she saved your life. I was going to kill you, but she convinced me to give you a single chance. You will get me the thing you owe me, and you will do it within the fortnight, or you will die.” As he said this, he forced Nafir’s mouth open and poured a vial of liquid inside. The prisoner seemed helpless and limp, looking desperately into my husband’s eyes, so much so I became terrified. Minkhab was deadly serious. “If you do not receive the antidote within a fortnight, you will die. You may have the cure when you repay your debt. Now go.” Minkhab strode over and rapped on the door. We left as a servant went in with food and clothing.
    That night he took me downstairs and let me watch during the ceremonies. The servants, or should I say cultists were pleased that I could see. It explains why I never see him though, or why I am not yet with child. I hoped he would not kill me, but I thought he would not after housing me for so long. What does he want from me? What was his purpose in taking me? Does Mena know? All these questions rolled through my head, as I watched him feed.
    Now I had access to a different library, one much more occult and dealing with magic, poisons and creatures I could not believe actually existed, except that I had been proved wrong. I never found out if Nafir paid his debt. Minkhab allowed me to watch and learn from the cultists, and I quickly became familiar with knowledge of potions, herbs, and venoms useful. My favorites were the mind altering drugs, for they had many applications. He made me senior wife, and began discussing business and supernatural beings with me. I grew to respect him and his people.
    Eventually, he offered me his life. He would make me like him, one of the Serpentis. I considered for quite some time, pondering the risks, the rewards, his reasons. I supposed he respected my mind, and understood my soul quite well, for he was never rash in these things. I chose to accept, to be born again. We made it a great ceremony for the herd, and I awoke to their adulation, each clamoring for me to take their vitae.
    Many years passed. I had “died in childbirth”. Mena became a cultist, and reveled in the work. The Islamic empire weakened, and the Mongols took Baghdad. I was a young child of the Serpent, and I was now immortal.

    Dominique Acrobatic Vengeful child of Damballa (world snake) - Scion

    Spoiler: show
    Dominique was a very determined child. She loved festivals, parades, costumes, and most of all, the acrobatics. As long as she could remember, she wanted to join Cirque du Soleil because "Mardi Graus eeevvvery day!"
    Gymnastics became her life. Until high school. She was on track to go to the Olympics - but then, her friend was raped and later committed suicide. This shocked everyone, especially all her friends. They were the ones who couldn't, didn't help as her boyfriend pushed her too far. Dominique was in shock.
    How could I not know? Why couldn't I see? Right there, and she just acted like evrything was normal, ok. We didn't know it was rape? She never told us. Anything! I should have noticed. Done something. And Frank... he just gets away with it all? How? Because she never told anyone? Cause she was too scared to, too afraid that what - We wouldn't believe her? That she was just chicken shit? That she deserved it?


    I dunno what to do.There wasn't enough evidence they said, he'd never get to trial. There ain't anything I can do.

    I wish I was there. Idda dropkicked that POS lying sack of turds offa

    A group of us found a nice deserted part of the bayou. We prayed, and made sure there weren't no evidence. He knew, but he wasn't gonna say shit. His babes, his ballsack was next. He prolly felt guilty too. All of us, readin her words, slappin him with fronds, and making sure the itchy stuff hit.
    But killin him won't do nothing. Cept get us all locked up tighter than toddlers on da witchin nights.

    So, instead of pursuing her a life of excitement and glory, she gave up on flashy displays and went to school for psychology. Only was able to go with a track and field scholarship. She was lost she was.

    But thats ok. She don't need to sacrifice herself like so. That's why I've got presents for my girl. I spose I should say, she never knew me, never knew who this mysterious "Pa" was. Oh sure she dreamed, but her Mama never told her the kinky worshipping she did. Never said a word about 'em. Prolly thought that I was one of those others. Thought that having a child was shameful! Hrrrrummmph. I make sure to provide for my wives. No shame as long as you do your part. So there she sat, bored as only a sleeper can be, dreadin the fate of drudgery.

    Time to fix that.

    I dunno what to say. The guy at the door aint some salesman.
    "Uhh, can I help you?" "Yes", and he just pushes me by and sits at the table. "You should get your Ma, Dominique. We have some serious business to discuss."

    Uhhh. Whut? How's he know my name? I went, got Ma, brought her back. We're all sitting there, tea in those little Asian mugs with no handles, mostly, just staring. WTF! Is that a snake comin out of his mouth?! Shit. It is. A snake came outta his lips.

    "So, girl" the snake began. Holy fukken balls a snake came out of his mouth and is talking!!"It's time for us to talk. Joyce you too. I'm sorry, but I know its a shock. Dominique," he, it? said, turning to slither its way over to me. Wait no. Its just staring. At me. Um. Is that guy ok? he's slumped...

    "... the spirits, us Loa. And I am your father. And there is mighty a lot of work to be done. Don worry, you aint dead. You're my girl, my sweet cherie, my beauutiful babe. And I am very proud of you..."Wait. Did he say father??. A snake is my Pa? No. This cain't be real.
    "And now, the best part! Presents!" uhhh... is that, sittin on the table, oooooh!!! what a gorgeous baton. Good balance, nice spin, solid weights on either end. Hmm, its a bit heavier than most... oh its (not gonna go there) talking.

    "...Shango hisself thought you was worthy when he saw how you handled yourself. Oh, yes, that rod will allow you to fly while holding it. But you can just jump up and grab it, or pull it back. It won't come down if you don't want it to." At that the baton finished its throw, falling into my hand. Is Ma blushing? Did she really fuck a snake?? ohmygod she had sex with a snake. WTF?

    "... you determine guilt. And now, lets put your gris-gris together. Its used to heal, not just luck, but true understanding."

    I have no clue how long this continued. So this guy is uhh... my job? Or maybe its his family? I'm supposed to help him? With what? Holy shit is that snake - that Loa - Damballa really my Pa? Ma. What? The. Hell?

    She took that fairly well. Already manifesting her boons. She'll do splendid. And Joyce, she looked ready for some riding.
    Dominique is a great kid.

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     Post Posted: Thu Sep 06, 2018 3:02 am 
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    Here for the 10th Anniversary Has collected at least one unit
    Joined: Fri Jun 03, 2016 8:54 pm
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    The former is for a PbP game I've been in for over three years, the latter for my IRL game group.

    Phoebe Deegan - A Circle of the Crone Mekhet from a Vampire: the Requiem game set in modern Detroit

    Spoiler: show
    Character Name/Clan/Covenant
    Phoebe Deegan
    Circle of the Crone

    Who You Were
    Phoebe Deegan was the eldest daughter in a family of five who'd been born in Detroit just as the automobile industry was starting to decentralize away from the city. She was an optimistic, carefree girl, at least until the factory where her father had been employed shut down due to damages in the 1967 riots. She still remained an optimist, though, so she tried to find something new to help revive the city's manufacturing center. She gave up on college education for her efforts, which meant more money to put her brothers, John and Tyler, through higher education. A solution presented itself four years later, though, in the form of the Intel 4004 microprocessor, and Phoebe looked into ways she could bring computer manufacturing to Detroit.

    Why They Took You
    Unfortunately, Phoebe's efforts were derailed rather splendidly as her efforts drew the attention of David Langley, a far-minded Mekhet information broker of respectable standing in the First Estate. He too, saw the potential of such technology to be of use to the city's progress, and judged Phoebe to be the local expert on the field. As such, he presented her with an opportunity to become a ghoul, in exchange for serving his interests. Since he seemed to want to see the city thrive as much as she did, she accepted.

    David Langley had lied about his intentions to see the city prosper, he just wanted someone who could understand the new technology at his beck and call. He'd lied to Phoebe, he'd lied to himself, but most importantly he'd lied to his coterie. His peers were of a stricter mind regarding the sanctity of the Masquerade, in that they did not believe that ghouls should be made aware. Upon discovering the existence of nature of Phoebe Deegan, Langley's coterie presented an ultimatum: Either she be Embraced as his childer, or as his replacement. Langley, wisely, chose the former option.

    Step 4: How You Survived
    Regrettably, Mr. Langley was a less than ideal sire, being somewhat negligent in his obligation to the Second Tradition. Luckily for Phoebe, one of the other members of his coterie was willing to mentor her, provided she was willing to forsake her sire's covenant in favor of that of her adopting mentor. Although wary of the Circle of the Crone, Phoebe had a weakness in the form of curiosity about the unknown, and Cruac was particularly curious. As such, Phoebe learned the ways of Kindred from an Arabic Taifa who called himself Jean E. Fright. The name was obviously fake, but Phoebe liked the joke.

    Under Jean's tutelage, Phoebe was indoctrinated into a sect of the Acolytes that followed what they referred to as "agnostic shamanism," which would consult the spirits for answers to the mysteries of their dark world. It was through learning to communicate with this spirits through ritual magic that Phoebe discovered that the spirits of the city were at least as irritable over Detroit's decline as she was, due to a loss of power that resulted from it. Phoebe jumped on the opportunity she saw, and would regularly communicate with spirits to try to get them to aid her efforts.

    Phoebe didn't neglect her mortal interests, though. She still believed that the quickest, best way to restore Detroit was to bring a new industry to the city, and computers seemed like the best bet. Eventually it became apparent that that wasn't an option, but computers were rapidly growing more pervasive, so Phoebe built up and around that foundation of knowledge to create the skillset that she'd wield to pursue her goals along other avenues. Understandably, this all went to shit when the rest of her coterie either succumbed to Final Death or fled the city when the Carthians seized power.

    Step 5: Who You Are Now
    In the wake of the Carthian uprising, Phoebe found shelter with a couple of similarly detached members of the First Estate. On one hand, their personalities mixed like oil in water, as the decades had done nothing to dull Phoebe's chipper personality and optimistic outlook. On the other hand, they all had a similarly optimistic goal of restoring the city, and to that end differences could be set aside for the greater good.

    Phoebe isn't a relentless crusader, though. Alright, she is, but she doesn't have a stick up her ass about it. In the decades since her Embrace, Phoebe has adopted the mannerisms and attitude of the public perception of hackers: Irreverent, casual, and with a notably wicked sense of humor. She spares the guys in her coterie from the worst of it since they're among the few Kindred with something resembling a brain, but not even they are completely safe from the odd wisecrack.

    She makes time for the little things: Faceless friends in the hacker community, reading up on the latest innovations in computer science and music, cashing in on various business investments... and family. Her younger brothers have both married and had children since her Embrace. Tyler's a grandfather now, although the proud parents were among the many to leave the city for greener pastures. She watches them, through social media, and is careful not to connect her name to any of her online aliases on account of that.

    Step 6: What You Will Become
    In practice, Phoebe advances the efforts of her coterie through covert means. Her knowledge of computers, her connections with the city's spirits, and the gifts of her clan provide her with unprecedented ease in ferreting out secrets being kept by the people of the city. Phoebe is all to happy to put those skills to use, either safeguarding the efforts to improve the city and the people who back them or finding and anonymously exposing the secrets of the people who she considers to be "part of the problem."

    Restoring the city is a means to an end, though, and just because it's an important means doesn't mean she's going to neglect cashing in on the payoff as she goes. As her coterie advances its efforts to uplift the city through various avenues, Phoebe also pursues to uplift herself by blending technological savvy with occult ritual. What strides she makes toward such ends, not even her coterie fully understands, as she guards the secrets of the Circle well enough, but those who ignore her can't ignore the sense of accomplishment that surrounds her.

    Mortal Aspiration: The anniversary of Mom's death is coming up. Should visit her grave.
    Kindred Aspiration: Come up with a new project for the coterie to tackle.
    Long Term Aspiration: Invent a new Cruac ritual.

    Step 7: Personal Description
    It's the little things, in the end, that draw the eye. She's a bit taller than average, but if it weren't for that you'd have a hard time seeing the young woman as anything other than a teenager. That, and a clean complexion. There's nothing odd about wearing a jean jacket over a black hoodie, especially in Detroit's climate. A bit odd she hasn't pulled the hood up over that mess of black hair, but if she were cold she'd have more color in her cheeks. Her head bounces to a pulsing rhythm, and from the faint sound that escapes her ear buds it sounds as though she's a fan of rock and roll. Judging by how her eyes comb over the text on her smart phone, though, the music doesn't have the focus of her attention. She's chewing something, and after a few seconds it's seen to be bubblegum.

    Taken apart, there's nothing remarkable, but taken together the young woman becomes an oddity. An oddity that, judging by her shifting gaze and her knowing smile, has caught you staring.

    Phoebe isn't like most Kindred. Where many Kindred are jaded, she remains an optimist. Where many Kindred are cautious, excitement and curiosity drive Phoebe forward. Where most Kindred are serious, Phoebe looks at what all the fuss is about and quietly chuckles to herself, since everyone's being so silly. Yeah, she's dead, and that's certainly weird, but it's no reason to give up on all joy in her existence.

    (Erfworld Repost Note: This does not stop her from expressing her negative emotions, though. She's been getting angry a lot, lately.)

    Step A: What More Is There
    Phoebe's father, Jacob, and her mother, Jane, are both dead. Her mom's death was quick enough to catch her off guard, but dad was slow and senile enough that she was able to visit him in the hospice center without a Masquerade breach coming of it.

    She has two younger brothers, Tyler who was born in 1954, and John who was born in 1957. Both still live in the city, with Tyler being a retired firefighter (he was 13 during the 1967 riots, after all) and John being a union man who refuses to quit, despite his age. Both are married, having gotten into their relationships relatively later than most couples. John is happier with Miranda (an elementary teacher with way too much patience) than Tyler is with Helen (a secretary who's more than a little overbearing,) for reasons evident in their personalities.

    Tyler and Helen have had three kids. The oldest is Donny, who married a girl he met in college named Karly, split town for a marketing job in greener pastures, and recently became the father of a pair of twins, Jessica and Vanessa. Second down the line is a daughter, Phoebe, who recently stopped waffling over which college degree to pursue after a suggestion from an online comment showed her the potential in computer programming. Finally, there's recent high school graduate Eve, who Tyler and Phoebe the elder both suspect of being the child of an affair, due to her having blonde hair uncharacteristic of Deegans.

    John and Miranda had two sons, both boys, both high school graduates that didn't bother with college. The older of the two, Garth, decided to follow in his father's footsteps in pursuing union work, and a couple months ago married the daughter of one of his father's coworkers, Tammy. The younger brother, Carl, does the muscled sort of security work at one of the nightclubs favored by one Lucien Blackthorn.

    Step B: Ringtones, Because Why Not?
    The ringtones listed below draw from the choruses of the listed songs.

    Default: Bastille's Pompeii
    Mimi Vue: Joan Jett's Bad Reputation
    Doug Hood: Carly Simon's Your So Vain
    Danny Cook: Andy Williams' Danny Boy
    Luccia Cole: Icon for Hire's Make a Move
    Emily Carter: Flight of the Bumblebee on Piano
    Vo: Disturbed's Indestructible
    Kui Heng: Thousand Foot Krunch's Move
    Spider: Itsy Bitsy Spider
    Kim King: Queen's Don't Stop Me Now
    Lance Trang: Fall Out Boy's Light 'Em Up
    Jean E. Fright: My Chemical Romance's Black Parade
    Paul Olkowski: Jen Titus's Oh Death
    Esdee Harmond: Inner Circle's Bad Boys
    Michael Warguard: Queen's Princes of the Universe
    Russell Harlow: Carly Simon's Your So Vain
    Calvin Moore: Carly Simon's Your So Vain

    Todd Grim - A Human Barbarian of the Hydra Totem from D&D 5e set in a homebrew setting

    Spoiler: show
    Character name:
    Todd Grim
    Age (either numerical or stage of life, so 45 and middle aged both work here):

    Using single words/word pairs/short statements (try for at least 2), please describe your character’s:

    From a swamp tribe. Lots of hostile neighbors, mainly Yuan-Ti.
    Outlook on life:
    Fighting’s awesome. Waiting sucks. Praise Lernaea.
    Daily struggles:
    Any problem that can’t be solved with physical force.
    Aspects they pride about themselves:
    Physical might, personal loyalty, the soul of wit.
    Aspects they try to hide from others:
    His [I forgot I was that candid writing this] when in public.
    Fighting, hunting, woman, and good food.
    Anything that they are obsessed over?:
    Chromatic dragons gotta die.

    Please describe the area/people/lifestyle that your character was raised in:
    Tribal life means a survival culture, with the chief being the strongest and the shaman of Lernaea being the smartest. My father wasn’t either, but he was the shaman’s brat brother, so I got more than an earful about the goddess. Grew up in a swamp, and the village was a bunch of huts on stilts connected by plank bridges. Big huts, too, since the kids weren’t allowed to leave ‘em in case there were snakes or something. Didn’t stop my siblings and I from trying, but the moms kept a tight watch. I didn’t get out until I could aim a spear, and after that I got taken hunting with my father and older brothers.

    Is there a point in your character’s life that was important to their development?
    C’mon, I’m from a tribal village. Of course there’s a manhood ritual. In our case, the rite’s called Collecting the Blood. Legend said Tiamat killed Lernaea, and the blood she shed grew to become hydras. So, we pick a fight with her fallen blood, getting rid of an unpleasant reminder that she’s dead. Normally, getting away alive is enough, but I managed to take a head off before pulling a runner.

    If your character’s religion is important to them, please try and answer the following:

    Please describe the religion, including aspects of the game that are important in it (this is just fine if you are doing a home-brew religion or custom version of an in game one, I just want to know this stuff to make things more relevant in possible plot arcs):
    Lernaea was a goddess of survival, adaptation, and growing strength. Apparently, she’d been part of a pantheon of reptile gods before Tiamat killed her. According to legend, Lernaea kept the other reptile gods from being stupid [boop]holes, which is why the Yuan-Ti gods started telling their priests to go nuts with human sacrifice and [boop]ing snakes after she died.

    Why does your character follow it? (or conversely, if they are out to destroy their own religion, why do they hate it):
    My tribe’s descended from those who followed Lernaea when she was alive, and got enslaved when the Yuan-Ti empire was strongest. My ancestors stuck to her teachings, though. Adapted, got strong. Turns out, infighting snakes are more than a little vulnerable to slave rebellions, especially when the neighboring nations think the Yuan-Ti are assholes in need of a beating.

    What aspects of it does your character like?:
    Being dead, Lernaea doesn’t demand much of her followers beyond encouraging certain ideals. In her case, the ideals are “be bad[boop]” and “don’t die,” so they’re ideals I can get behind.

    What aspects of it do they dislike (if any)?:
    Well, she’d dead, so the shamans need to constantly live her teachings to get any power in terms of magic. Not my problem directly, but it meant that particular uncle was something of a bombastic jackass.

    Are there events/objects/people/races in the religion that have great significance, if so please describe:
    Aside from what I’ve already mentioned? Lernaea’s killer is the goddess of evil dragons. Chromatic dragons. So… killing chromatic dragons is a step toward avenging the death of my tribe’s goddess that lead to the enslavement of my ancestors. Good times.

    If you have time, please describe what a typical day for your character was like (before joining the group):
    I don’t have time.

    What does your character believe their destiny is? (or if not destiny, then where do they see themselves 10 years from now)?:
    Ten years from now, if I’m not dead… I’d have made a bid to become chief of the tribe, replace that [boop]ant who doesn’t have the balls to take the fight to the Yuan-Ti. That should get me a couple wives, assuming I didn’t find any while out adventuring.

    On a 1-5 scale, how interested is your character in: (1 is no interest, 3 is sounds interesting, 5 is ‘I live for it!’)
    Weapons: 4
    Armor: 3
    Gems/money: 2
    Knowledge: 2
    Mystery: 1
    Party dynamics: 3
    Storytelling: 4
    Unique experiences: 4
    Kicking [boop]: 5
    Justice: 3
    Intrigue: 1

    If I can find a mini story-arc for your character, would you (the player) find it more fun if it was a secret (the party can see what your character does, but your intentions and goals are known only to you and those you tell about it), or if the events unfolded with the whole group involved (the party as a whole knows what is going on and can act independently of your character to try and advance the plot)?
    Secret plot- your character finds a requisition sheet written by a mob boss on a dead body they found in an alleyway. No one else knows that you have the sheet. As you play the game, your adventures may bring you close to some of the items listed on the sheet, for which the mob boss would pay handsomely.
    Public plot- A woman arrives at the clinic claiming to be your character’s long lost mother (let us pretend that your character is an orphan or REALLY stupid with a terrible memory). The group sees this interaction and each must decide if they are going to go on the mission to find out about your past or to keep you from being backstabbed by this crazy stranger.
    I’d prefer that Todd’s personal plots be out in the open.

    Anything else that you wish to write/think is relevant about your character?:
    Todd’s reasons for leaving the tribe were a more proactive version of why Wrex left Tuchanka. His tribe has problems (neighboring Yuan-Ti are taking slaves from the tribe’s patrols) that the chief won’t solve. Unfortunately, the chief is more bad[boop] than Todd, so Todd’s left the tribe to fight stuff abroad to get the gear and experience to give him an edge in a fight, as well as stories to secure the tribe’s loyalty after he’s won leadership. Also, naming conventions are blunt and monosyllabic, because ogres had fought alongside his ancestors to bring down the local Yuan-Ti when that empire was strongest.

    Anything else that doesn’t relate to your character that you want to antagonize [the DM] with?
    It’s spelled Heironeous, you goober.

    The Greatest Trick
    Florist Julia Sterling has come to align with a shady side in order to avenge her father's kingdom.

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