A Character Concept (LONG POST) [Archive] - Wizards Community

A Character Concept (LONG POST) [Archive] - Wizards Community

Post/Author/DateTime Post
Karish
09-13-07, 09:54 AM You come to me asking the truth... I warn you, it is not a pleasant tale.

It all began with my conception. My mother became pregnant at a very young age; she had barely become old enough to bear children, and while she had remained untouched by a man, she was in fact with child. Many wondered at this, and her village thought her a witch. Banished from the village into the wild, she found herself at the old, forgotten cabin. There, she survived alone, until one day I was born.

Now, I believe that I should explain something to you. This white hair, these black-iris eyes, and the points of my ears. They did not come from her, and no ordinary human could have passed them to me. I was far from the auburn-haired, pink bundle of joy she thought she would bear. I was a stillborn, who came to life only after being basked in the glow of the full moon I was born under. Mother used to say the Moon Spirits wove my hair, gave me the eyes of the night, and bathed me in silver. Apparently telling her son that his pale visage was a monstrosity was too much to bear.

I spent six years of my life happily. I lived with mother, in the woods, learning what she herself learned as a child my age; the basics of survival, like how to identify edible plants, how to hunt rabbits, and the ways of living alone. I was quick to learn that alone was all I could be for a very, very long time.

My sixth year saw my mother die.

She grew very ill during the wintertime. I knew death well at that age; I had killed many small animals for food, and mother instilled in me knowledge that we all would take our turn to die. All the same, I did not want to lose her. I did all I could, but she would not stay. I believe that is when I became... This. As her life flowed from her, I lost my control.Things became dark... so very dark. Blacker than night, it was almost solid with its shadow. I screamed, I roared, I cried in my tiny voice, but it all sounded drowned and muted, as though I were underwater. I panicked, I lashed out, and I fell.

I awoke to the sounds of voices... Whispers. Voices that I could not make out or understand, in a language that was not mine. Stumbling out of the cabin, I felt drawn towards a place mother said to never go. A place beyond the trees, where strange sounds came. As I walked towards it, the voices became distinguishable... The language was the same, but I found myself grasping the words. They drew me to the place, a cave where no light would pass, even under brightest light. They told me to enter, told me the shadows guarded the truth. As I walked, they told me where to step; many deaths were to be had if I did not obey them. Through the shadows, I came to light. A creature sat by a small, smouldering fire. She was black as black, her hair a mix of black and bloody red, her eyes fire. I could not find myself believing how wonderously beautiful I condsidered such a creature, so undoubtedly vile.

The demon told me she was my father. She told me she took the form of a man in my mother's dreams to create me, and that she was the one who had led me there. She told me what the villagers did to my mother. That they persecuted her, that when she was found virginal and with child, the men of the village did... horrible things to try and cure her of her evil spawn. She told me such was the nature of humans, and that she had chosen myself and my mother as special creatures among our kind, better than the others.

As she spoke, the whispers came again. "She speaks truth." They said. She speaks truth.

It was many years that I spent with the demon. While my mother had taught me of survival in the wild, of life and death, my father (as I came to call her) taught me music in our devil's tongue, how to live and fight in darkness, and the nature of things one would proclaim me incestful for. But above all these, was magic. Magic was the art I learned, but it is not like those of most. She taught me that power came from darkness, and darkness would be my strength. It is her teachings which led me to embrace power, and the eldritch blast became the first of many routines I practiced.

As time passed and I grew to be a man, she told me one final thing. She told me that as I was grown, it was time for me to leave, for I could no longer learn from her. Bidding my demon father goodbye, she told me to seek out the village, and that my parting gift was there.

I found the town dead. The houses were not destroyed, except the damages of time and neglect, but the people were not so well off. Bloody skeletons and rotten fleshy piles were all that remained. The people all died as though they simply fell over all at once and stopped living, it semmed, though what was left of the fleshier faces hinted at a look of terror. Among the wreckage, I found the gift she spoke of on a pedestal in the village square. You see me wearing it now, actually; clothes, the leather straps and peices which form this armor, and the punching dagger on my belt. Unmagical at the time, yes, but they were quite finely crafted nonetheless.

Since that time, I have been alone. I have trained myself in the art of magic that father taught me while she and I shared lives, and have unlocked within my own soul secrets of magic which now are common knowledge to me. Even now, I hear new whisperings of the spirits. They teach me power and magic, tell me what I should do, and guide my path of training, fighting, and learning. To what end? I do not know yet. But the spirits... They speak of soon... Soon 'they' will come. And soon, the spirits will leave, leave me with new companions, where I myself shall find my destiny...

Well, that's basically the backstory for a character of mine, a Tiefling Warlock.

Now, I'm not sure, but he strikes me as Chaotic Evil. I would basically play him as someone who doesn't like people, mainly men, and finds himself perfering the darker creatures of the world like demons over them. However, he doesn't go on killing sprees or whatever, he just doesn't care about their rules or lives in any way shape or form unless they're special to him. So while he won't kill a guy in broad daylight because he doesn't want to be zerg'd by city guards or anything, he would kill someone if he thought he could get away with it safely or get out of town unsuspected long enough to not be convicted.

Well, there you all go. ^_^
Paradox_of_Life
09-13-07, 03:21 PM About the story, Good job, though I would personally add how the Demon shaped your alignment.

About the Alignment itself, If your character LIKES to kill people for pleasure alone, then its CE. Yet, if he doesnt CARE if he kills people, than its NE.
Karish
09-13-07, 06:52 PM Well, he personally developed a hatred for humans and males basically, but he typically doesn't enjoy it, so I'll do NE.

And thanks, I'll add that in when I give it to my DM.
Terjon of the Blue Rose
09-14-07, 01:28 AM An interesting character. Your mother was what 11-12 when she bore you? Strange that she could care for you and herself at such an age let alone teach you what you needed to survive. And you were only 6 when she died. That too seems like too young to know enough to survive, though it seems that the voices came quickly thereafter. It seems like you should have a more active hatred for mankind after such an upbringing. A desire to cause suffering amongst them if not to destroy them completely. Apparently your father got to you young enough that you never questioned her part in your mother's suffering? I can't help but wonder if she left you with a larger goal in life or if you are simply a dark creature with no purpose but who thrives on hate and pain. If your in the realms I would definetly take up the worship of either Shar or Loviatar even if I never took a level of cleric.

If I were going to add I'd put in a bit more about the belief system dear old dad helped form in you, something of a goal in life for yourself, and perhaps a touch of contact with the village if for nothing else than to give you some personal knowledge of them.
Karish
09-14-07, 07:01 AM An interesting character. Your mother was what 11-12 when she bore you? Strange that she could care for you and herself at such an age let alone teach you what you needed to survive. And you were only 6 when she died. That too seems like too young to know enough to survive, though it seems that the voices came quickly thereafter. It seems like you should have a more active hatred for mankind after such an upbringing. A desire to cause suffering amongst them if not to destroy them completely. Apparently your father got to you young enough that you never questioned her part in your mother's suffering? I can't help but wonder if she left you with a larger goal in life or if you are simply a dark creature with no purpose but who thrives on hate and pain. If your in the realms I would definetly take up the worship of either Shar or Loviatar even if I never took a level of cleric.

If I were going to add I'd put in a bit more about the belief system dear old dad helped form in you, something of a goal in life for yourself, and perhaps a touch of contact with the village if for nothing else than to give you some personal knowledge of them.

Thanks for the advice. The whole voices thing is basically the only reason he survived so long at that age alone, and his mother, well, she was an oddball, but I left her reasoning out intentionally. The world I'm in is actually fairly devoid of religion, except some small cults, a couple groups of pantheists, and an almost religiously fanatical atheist rulership over most of the humans' world.
He was also raised under the idea that his father didn't rape his mother or anything, but it was some willing and loving union that the people of the village hated, and that his father was in her cave that whole time because if she left, it'd kill her. (Young boy being raised like that believes this stuff.)
I'll try to rewrite it with some contact with humans, probably a negative one, and I'll make him a bit more passionate about his hatred for humans and--living in this very female world apparently set upon them by males--other men of whatever race they may be.

EDIT: And also, his mother was supposed to be someone who took her whole life training to be a ranger, which is why she personally knew more than most 12 year old girls would.
Terjon of the Blue Rose
09-14-07, 07:39 AM Mother being a ranger gives us a reason as to how she may have come in contact with father while distant from village so thats good. I kind of expected that dad would claim (and be believed) that the union was a willing one regardless of truth. I'm very interested in seeing what you come up with for that life goal it may well be vague but that could be very appropriate for this character.
Karish
09-14-07, 07:58 AM Once I've reworded the story properly in a fashion that I like, I will be updating the original post to show it, with the parts added in underlined. I have yet to decide the name of this character, but I will keep that open aswell.

Post/Author/DateTime	Post
Karish 09-13-07, 09:54 AM	You come to me asking the truth... I warn you, it is not a pleasant tale. It all began with my conception. My mother became pregnant at a very young age; she had barely become old enough to bear children, and while she had remained untouched by a man, she was in fact with child. Many wondered at this, and her village thought her a witch. Banished from the village into the wild, she found herself at the old, forgotten cabin. There, she survived alone, until one day I was born. Now, I believe that I should explain something to you. This white hair, these black-iris eyes, and the points of my ears. They did not come from her, and no ordinary human could have passed them to me. I was far from the auburn-haired, pink bundle of joy she thought she would bear. I was a stillborn, who came to life only after being basked in the glow of the full moon I was born under. Mother used to say the Moon Spirits wove my hair, gave me the eyes of the night, and bathed me in silver. Apparently telling her son that his pale visage was a monstrosity was too much to bear. I spent six years of my life happily. I lived with mother, in the woods, learning what she herself learned as a child my age; the basics of survival, like how to identify edible plants, how to hunt rabbits, and the ways of living alone. I was quick to learn that alone was all I could be for a very, very long time. My sixth year saw my mother die. She grew very ill during the wintertime. I knew death well at that age; I had killed many small animals for food, and mother instilled in me knowledge that we all would take our turn to die. All the same, I did not want to lose her. I did all I could, but she would not stay. I believe that is when I became... This. As her life flowed from her, I lost my control.Things became dark... so very dark. Blacker than night, it was almost solid with its shadow. I screamed, I roared, I cried in my tiny voice, but it all sounded drowned and muted, as though I were underwater. I panicked, I lashed out, and I fell. I awoke to the sounds of voices... Whispers. Voices that I could not make out or understand, in a language that was not mine. Stumbling out of the cabin, I felt drawn towards a place mother said to never go. A place beyond the trees, where strange sounds came. As I walked towards it, the voices became distinguishable... The language was the same, but I found myself grasping the words. They drew me to the place, a cave where no light would pass, even under brightest light. They told me to enter, told me the shadows guarded the truth. As I walked, they told me where to step; many deaths were to be had if I did not obey them. Through the shadows, I came to light. A creature sat by a small, smouldering fire. She was black as black, her hair a mix of black and bloody red, her eyes fire. I could not find myself believing how wonderously beautiful I condsidered such a creature, so undoubtedly vile. The demon told me she was my father. She told me she took the form of a man in my mother's dreams to create me, and that she was the one who had led me there. She told me what the villagers did to my mother. That they persecuted her, that when she was found virginal and with child, the men of the village did... horrible things to try and cure her of her evil spawn. She told me such was the nature of humans, and that she had chosen myself and my mother as special creatures among our kind, better than the others. As she spoke, the whispers came again. "She speaks truth." They said. She speaks truth. It was many years that I spent with the demon. While my mother had taught me of survival in the wild, of life and death, my father (as I came to call her) taught me music in our devil's tongue, how to live and fight in darkness, and the nature of things one would proclaim me incestful for. But above all these, was magic. Magic was the art I learned, but it is not like those of most. She taught me that power came from darkness, and darkness would be my strength. It is her teachings which led me to embrace power, and the eldritch blast became the first of many routines I practiced. As time passed and I grew to be a man, she told me one final thing. She told me that as I was grown, it was time for me to leave, for I could no longer learn from her. Bidding my demon father goodbye, she told me to seek out the village, and that my parting gift was there. I found the town dead. The houses were not destroyed, except the damages of time and neglect, but the people were not so well off. Bloody skeletons and rotten fleshy piles were all that remained. The people all died as though they simply fell over all at once and stopped living, it semmed, though what was left of the fleshier faces hinted at a look of terror. Among the wreckage, I found the gift she spoke of on a pedestal in the village square. You see me wearing it now, actually; clothes, the leather straps and peices which form this armor, and the punching dagger on my belt. Unmagical at the time, yes, but they were quite finely crafted nonetheless. Since that time, I have been alone. I have trained myself in the art of magic that father taught me while she and I shared lives, and have unlocked within my own soul secrets of magic which now are common knowledge to me. Even now, I hear new whisperings of the spirits. They teach me power and magic, tell me what I should do, and guide my path of training, fighting, and learning. To what end? I do not know yet. But the spirits... They speak of soon... Soon 'they' will come. And soon, the spirits will leave, leave me with new companions, where I myself shall find my destiny... Well, that's basically the backstory for a character of mine, a Tiefling Warlock. Now, I'm not sure, but he strikes me as Chaotic Evil. I would basically play him as someone who doesn't like people, mainly men, and finds himself perfering the darker creatures of the world like demons over them. However, he doesn't go on killing sprees or whatever, he just doesn't care about their rules or lives in any way shape or form unless they're special to him. So while he won't kill a guy in broad daylight because he doesn't want to be zerg'd by city guards or anything, he would kill someone if he thought he could get away with it safely or get out of town unsuspected long enough to not be convicted. Well, there you all go. ^_^
Paradox_of_Life 09-13-07, 03:21 PM	About the story, Good job, though I would personally add how the Demon shaped your alignment. About the Alignment itself, If your character LIKES to kill people for pleasure alone, then its CE. Yet, if he doesnt CARE if he kills people, than its NE.
Karish 09-13-07, 06:52 PM	Well, he personally developed a hatred for humans and males basically, but he typically doesn't enjoy it, so I'll do NE. And thanks, I'll add that in when I give it to my DM.
Terjon of the Blue Rose 09-14-07, 01:28 AM	An interesting character. Your mother was what 11-12 when she bore you? Strange that she could care for you and herself at such an age let alone teach you what you needed to survive. And you were only 6 when she died. That too seems like too young to know enough to survive, though it seems that the voices came quickly thereafter. It seems like you should have a more active hatred for mankind after such an upbringing. A desire to cause suffering amongst them if not to destroy them completely. Apparently your father got to you young enough that you never questioned her part in your mother's suffering? I can't help but wonder if she left you with a larger goal in life or if you are simply a dark creature with no purpose but who thrives on hate and pain. If your in the realms I would definetly take up the worship of either Shar or Loviatar even if I never took a level of cleric. If I were going to add I'd put in a bit more about the belief system dear old dad helped form in you, something of a goal in life for yourself, and perhaps a touch of contact with the village if for nothing else than to give you some personal knowledge of them.
Karish 09-14-07, 07:01 AM	An interesting character. Your mother was what 11-12 when she bore you? Strange that she could care for you and herself at such an age let alone teach you what you needed to survive. And you were only 6 when she died. That too seems like too young to know enough to survive, though it seems that the voices came quickly thereafter. It seems like you should have a more active hatred for mankind after such an upbringing. A desire to cause suffering amongst them if not to destroy them completely. Apparently your father got to you young enough that you never questioned her part in your mother's suffering? I can't help but wonder if she left you with a larger goal in life or if you are simply a dark creature with no purpose but who thrives on hate and pain. If your in the realms I would definetly take up the worship of either Shar or Loviatar even if I never took a level of cleric. If I were going to add I'd put in a bit more about the belief system dear old dad helped form in you, something of a goal in life for yourself, and perhaps a touch of contact with the village if for nothing else than to give you some personal knowledge of them. Thanks for the advice. The whole voices thing is basically the only reason he survived so long at that age alone, and his mother, well, she was an oddball, but I left her reasoning out intentionally. The world I'm in is actually fairly devoid of religion, except some small cults, a couple groups of pantheists, and an almost religiously fanatical atheist rulership over most of the humans' world. He was also raised under the idea that his father didn't rape his mother or anything, but it was some willing and loving union that the people of the village hated, and that his father was in her cave that whole time because if she left, it'd kill her. (Young boy being raised like that believes this stuff.) I'll try to rewrite it with some contact with humans, probably a negative one, and I'll make him a bit more passionate about his hatred for humans and--living in this very female world apparently set upon them by males--other men of whatever race they may be. EDIT: And also, his mother was supposed to be someone who took her whole life training to be a ranger, which is why she personally knew more than most 12 year old girls would.
Terjon of the Blue Rose 09-14-07, 07:39 AM	Mother being a ranger gives us a reason as to how she may have come in contact with father while distant from village so thats good. I kind of expected that dad would claim (and be believed) that the union was a willing one regardless of truth. I'm very interested in seeing what you come up with for that life goal it may well be vague but that could be very appropriate for this character.
Karish 09-14-07, 07:58 AM	Once I've reworded the story properly in a fashion that I like, I will be updating the original post to show it, with the parts added in underlined. I have yet to decide the name of this character, but I will keep that open aswell.