Dungeons And Dragons Campaign [full] [discontinued On The Forums]

Erevan: "Put simply, the original members of this party were given mysterious letters which led to them to an encounter with Luxarik, a god of light, who, though I'll not get into theology right now, may perhaps be a separate incarnation or manifestation of my own goddess of dawn, given their strikingly similar divine portfolios... never mind, I have become sidetracked. The god gave them their mission: to cleanse this land of its blight. The point at hand is that, a day later, Eres approached them claiming also to have received such a letter, and aiming to join their quest. For reasons I cannot explain, they did not question this claim."

"Eventually, the issue came up again, with Yevor realizing that they had never in fact seen physical evidence of Eres's letter. When questioned, he floundered under stress and produced a rather shoddy deception, which I saw through quite easily. Lathander is not tolerant of falsehoods, and her devoted are well-trained in the detection of such lies."

"What followed was a rather uncomfortable debate in which Eres was called a liar, I a hypocrite, and several people were nearly stabbed. And so we sit, here and now."

 

“Ah. I see. Well, least one of us got our stabbings, huh?”
I say, jokingly.

________________________________

"Do you mind if I borrow your shortsword for a bit?"
I ask, going off topic.

 

Erevan: "I can't recall the last time I've used it for anything... learning how to use one was simply regulation back in my homeland."

"Sure."

I unbuckle it and hand it to you, still in the sheath.

 

I take it, then take it out of its sheath, almost fumbling with the stick in my hand.
"I just thought to do one part of what I still need."

 

I give a questioning look, while rummaging around for some bread in my pack.

 

“The stick.”
I say, holding up the one I have.

 

alth:"alright so who's going first?"

 

I cut off a small slice of holy bread with a paring knife, and eat it, slowly.

Erevan: "As it is you who has raised that matter, and you who seems so eager to sleep, why not you?

I allow a hint of teasing sarcasm to slip into my tone.

 

alth:"Alright then"
I clear my throat
Alth:"I come from the island of masin it's a fairly small island almost no ships go there... no one really knows we're there , Anyways i was heading to another nearby island named
koura. Then a horrible storm hit"
alth goes silent for a moment
alth:"i was the soul survivor. the storm knocked the ship of course and i didn't have much knowledge of sailing so i sat on open waters for a week until finally i saw land. I flew out to land thinking it was possibly aonesee a island about a week's journey from masin but i landed somewhere i didn't recognize. I started asking the sailors at the port town if they could take me back to masin, all of them gave me blank stares nobody knew that there was even a place called masin much less how to get there. So i headed inland flew all the way to exton I found another merchant who i went into business with worked there for about a year... then i found ti lin in a forest he was pretty hurt. I took him home got him stitched up he gave me a formula. I thought i could re create it but... it just lead to a fire. Burned half the village rather than stay and face the wrath the villagers i fled. went to that town where you guys found me. I had just tried to pull a heist we'd been planning for months we got busted. another guy and I were lucky and escaped the rest got caught i fled into the cave found you guys and now i'm here"
alth stares into the fire if there's not a fire he just looks up at the stars

Also reaaaaaaaaaaaly sry if there are typo's

 

“I’ll go next, I guess.”
I start carving the stick as I talk.
“I was born in a small halfling village, and lived there until I was... older than a toddler, I guess. The village was ransacked by barbarians, then, and both my parents died. I was sent off to an orphanage, in a larger town, and a few years went by before I was adopted by a not-very-nice man who worshipped Set. As his son, I was obligated by morals and by beatings to follow in his footsteps. So I did, grew up a follower of Set, slit my father’s throat, and ran away. I manage to live by myself as a nomad, then the rest you know.”

 

Erevan: "Who... else have you killed, since then?

 

I just realized that most, if not all, of our party's backstories are tragedies.

 

"While I was in the man's care, I took part in... eleven murders, three of which I've stuck the blade in myself, and after I had slain my father, which counts as one more, and as for manslaughter... road bandits, annoying adventurers, tradesmen... about thirty or so kills? Probably more."

 

Erevan: "...."

"Shall... I go next, or does someone else wish to speak up?"

 

"Go ahead. I'd like to hear your story."

 

I like the fact that Althaios mentioned Mosin

And Caligo forgot a small part of his backstory that’s so insignificant it does not matter, but I plan on expanding

 

What did I forget?

 

The fact that people may be after you for killing your father

 

Cal doesn't particularly know that.

 

Erevan: "As you wish. My birth name is Erevan Amán Sanka’eleé, of the Elven House Amakiir. I was born, and lived most of my life in the village of Varná-Lond, in a land some many miles from here, swathed in majestic forests. My life was, I think, a good and peaceful one. The sunlight had always held some... otherworldly fascination for me, and it was not long before I chose to become an acolyte of Lathander, who my people worship not only as a goddess of the sunrise, but also of new life, growth, truth, and inspiration. I studied and served in her temple for decades. Having lives as long as we do, the elven-folk are very slow and methodical in such delicate matters. Ironically, though I have already lived longer than some of you here will ever live, I have not yet reached the age where a traditional ceremony of adulthood would have been conducted... in societal terms, I will still be an adolescent for nearly a quarter century... but I digress."

"I was truly content with my life there, small-scale though it may have seemed. I was surrounded by dear friends and family, and I have yet to find a land more beautiful than my home. Lathander is also a patron goddess of the arts, and all acolytes are thus required to take up a craft. I was a sculptor and a metalworker, and created the amulet I still use in prayer to this day."

"I go into such elaborate detail about my previously idyllic life not just to impress upon you its length, but also so that you may appreciate some of my horror when everything so abruptly changed. I will not recount in overly exquisite detail, for such memories are still lined with broken glass in my mind... but, in essence, my village became the target of a... Mortira, we say in my tongue. The word you use, I think, is a... Blackguard, yes. A Blackguard, or perhaps an Oathbreaker. The antithesis of a divine Paladin, fueled by hatred and malevolence rather than devotion and honor. To this dark-armored man, my village was... a test of power, and amusement, a plaything. It was almost trivial, the ease with which Varná-Lond was wiped from the map."

"I will leave you to imagine my distress, followed by horror and eventual depression, at being one of the few survivors, having nearly my entire life wiped away. I was so very, very close to losing all hope, but... I was still a man of faith. Lathander was my guide through that dark time, anointing me as a cleric-knight and charging my with a mission to drive back the shadows that had already consumed my village, and are now gnawing at the foundations of this land."

"It was only a few weeks travel thereafter that I encountered this 'merry band', and, well..."

"The rest is history."

This is what happens when you ask the character who I RP as being very long-winded to recount his life story.