Looking for honest criticism on backstory. WOT [Archive] - Wizards Community

Looking for honest criticism on backstory. WOT [Archive] - Wizards Community

Post/Author/DateTime Post
Aniodia
09-18-07, 04:47 PM Well, I'm starting to play in a new campaign, and with the help of Uberwoot, I've finished creating a backstory, and would like some honest criticism. We start at level 5, and I plan on playing a Paladin4 /Sorcerer1 , planning on going into Silver Pyromancer (from Five Nations) at level 10/11.

The setting is Medieval England, around 1000 A.D. It's rather low-magic, and wizards often keep to themselves in towers. Other arcane casters, on the other hand, are more common, but are looked down upon.

I plan on playing him a bit differently from other paladins. Instead of being the knight in shining armor, standing out like a sore thumb, I was looking for more of a laid-back, holy-yet-not-'holier-then-thou', exemplar of the common man style. Kind of like Bill the Paladin (http://forums.gleemax.com/showthread.php?t=891691), except not undead.

However, not until 3rd-4th level Sorcerer would he realize that some of his spells are drawing on different stores of magic than what his Paladin spells are. He would actually tend to mistake his spells, whether Paladin or Sorcerer, as coming from the gods. In all actuality, one of his ancestors was a celestial, though not close enough in his past to be considered an Aasimar.

In any case, below is what I have so far. Any suggestions would be at least looked at, if not included if it would fit.

Born in a bustling city, Osbearn, his older brother and sister, and their parents lived rather quiet existences, moving away when Osbearn was only two years old. When asked about it, his father said that he realized that living in the city was a form of slavery, and that it took him 15 years and three children to realize it. In any case, for much of his life, Osbearn and his family lived in relative quiet, working their farm, and making a modest living. Every so often, his father and older brother traveled into the city to sell what extra they had grown, and came back with a few interesting items.

After his 16th birthday, Osbearn asked his father to take him into town the next time they went, as his memories (what little there were) were old and fuzzy. After much pleading, he agreed, and when the wagon was set to go into town again next year, there were three seats in the front instead of two. It took most of the morning before the tallest buildings came into view, and even then, it was still quite a while before the city walls loomed before the trio. Riding through the gate, Osbearn watched his father talk to one of the guards briefly, and the soldier pointed farther down the lane.

As they rode further on, Osbearn caught his brother placing a hand on a hilt very nearly hidden under his cloak. Saying nothing, he turned his attention to the multitude of buildings, shops, and vast number of people packed into such a small area. It seemed like a blink of an eye had passed before his father and brother were setting up a small stand, unloading the average harvest from the back of the wagon. After helping them, Osbearn's curiosity got the better of him and he wandered off into the marketplace, drinking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the city.

His feet took him far from his family, and Osbearn still kept looking around at the various items on sale. More than a few stands were selling food and harvest goods, like his family, while others had a multitude of weaponry, yet others tried to sell jewelry both ordinary and fanciful. What caught his attention, more than anything on sale, was the small group of about 15 or so guards pushing their way through the crowds, headed back the way he came. Following them, almost like he was one of them, he watched as the crowd thinned, and people were just standing around, right around where his brother and father were. In fact, that blood-spattered wagon looked awfully familar...

***

Osbearn awoke slowly, the light above hurting his eyes. Sitting up slowly, his head spun, and forced him to lay back down. His movement did not go unnoticed, as an unfamiliar face looked over at him. As his eyes adjusted, Osbearn could see that it was a young woman, younger than his older sister, but older than he was. She brushed a loose strand of auburn hair out of her face as she smiled at him and walked over. Pulling up a stool, she grabbed a wet washcloth and laid it over his forehead.

"It was about time you woke up. Father Ealdred was wondering how many days you had been unconscious." As she spoke, Osbearn's mind raced. Days? I've been asleep for days? What about Father, and Osric? Oh god, they were.. Osbearn started to sweat and look around wildly, and the woman just put a hand on his shoulder and gently yet forcefully pushed him back down to the bed.

"Calm down! It's safe here." The young lady looked away for a moment. "I know you're worried about what had happened to your folks. Well, from what I've heard, it seems that your father had gotten one of the major adventuring parties angry at him, and he was attacked in the market. Your brother drew a sword, and held them off until your father could escape. Reports say he killed anywhere from 3 to 10 of them before tiring. He was nearly dead when the guards got to him, and our clerics have been working feverishly to keep him alive. We found you when we were removing the bodies from the streets, and nearly buried you with the rest of the dead. Were it not for Ealdred's sharp eyes, you would be underground right now."

"Where's my father?" Osbearn croaked out the words, wincing as his throat screamed in pain. The lady looked back at him, and said, "From what we've gathered, he made it out of the city safely. We've assigned a paladin to watch over your family the next couple of months, just in case."

Not a moment after her lips stopped moving, a large man draped in white robes walked into the room. His mere presence calmed Osbearn, and the young lady moved to his side, head bowed. Holding her to his side, hand on her shoulder, he moved over to the bed, and looked down at Osbearn. The voice that bellowed out of the man nearly shook the bed, or so Osbearn thought.

"So I see you've met my daughter Ealhwyn. I do hope she hasn't been bothering you, boy." A hearty laugh shook the old man, and Osbearn smiled and shook his head. "Well, that's good. Now, your father Heorogar is a good friend of mine, and I told him that I'd look after him if anything happened. I meant it, though I didn't want to actually have to. It's bad luck to look forward to treating a friend's ills, you know. In any case, it's good to see you've grown into a strapping young man, almost the spitting image of your father. I just wish it didn't have to happen under such circumstances.

"Anyway, I'll have Ealhwyn here keep an eye on you until you are well enough to get back to your folks, and I'll keep an eye on you when I can pull myself away from your brother. If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask. Now if you'll excuse me, I have your brother to attend to, as well as the rest of my congregation." Clapping Ealhwyn on the shoulder, he left her side and walked towards the door. "Oh, and Ealhwyn, do let the poor boy get enough rest. He's been through so much these past few days."

The door closes, and Ealhwyn looks at Osbearn, almost apologetically. "You have to excuse my father. He's a bit boisterous, even for a cleric. Anyway, I'll leave you to your rest, and I'll see you later." As she says this, Osbearn notices a bit of a blush creep over her face, but she turns and leaves the room before he can be sure of anything. Sighing, and again wincing as his throat is exercised, he turns to his side and drifts off to sleep.

***

A couple of months passed by rather quietly, with Ealhwyn spending a bit more time on Osbearn rather than her duties. While Osbearn could have left at any time, he felt a need to stay with his brother, aiding in his recovery. Day after day, he slowly learned more and more about the church, and why Ealhwyn and her father remained in the city instead of out in a smaller town, like his father did. In addition, he started sitting in on the Father's services, fascinated by the stories told and tales spun. At times, it seemed to Osbearn as though the only thing differentiating the Father from a traveling minster were the robes and lack of an instrument.

When Osric was well enough to stand, and thusly well enough to travel, the brothers and Ealhwyn took a cart and horses, and traveled back to the quiet farmhouse. By this time, Osbearn was well aware that Ealhwyn had affections toward him, and as they traveled, contemplated as to what his own feelings were. Idle chat passed the time as they rode, and it seemed a much shorter distance coming back than it did heading towards the city, and before long, the small home could be seen over the horizon.

Riding up to the house, Osbearn and Ealhwyn helped the still infirm Osric from the wagon and to the door, only to be greeted by a large, imposing figure. This hulk of a man stood at least a head taller than Heorogar, and was clad from head to toe in shining silver mail, a golden glow from the fire behind him adding to the awesome sight. The man studied the faces of the three, and a glint appeared in his eyes as a smile spread across his face.

"Why, my dear Ealhwyn! It's been a while! And it seems you've brought a couple of friend with ya, too!" The man steps out of the doorway and almost effortlessly hoists Osric off of his feet. Carrying the battered young man, the armored figure leads the way back into the warm household, followed by Osbearn and Ealhwyn. With a gentleness that his frame belies, the armored man lays Osric onto a bed and turns towards the two. Bowing his head, he looks up at Osbearn.

"I do not believe we've met. I am Paladin Cuichelm, son of Wulfmaer. Father Ealdred sent me here to protect your family, and told me that you and your brother would return as soon as possible." Cuichelm pulled out three chairs, setting them beside the hearth as he sat. Osbearn and Ealhwyn did the same, Osbearn still a little awestruck by the paladin. Ignoring Ealhwyn and Cuichelm striking up a conversation, he studied the paladin thoroughly, watching as the fire created a dancing golden shimmer from head to toe. As his gaze traveled upwards, he noticed that beneath the dark brown hair, Cuichelm's ears were drastically pointed upwards, an earring with a stylized silver flame hanging from one.

Curious, he studied the elder man's face as well, noticing his countenance was more slender, more angled than that of his father's. And the fact that even in his heavy armor, the man moved fluidly, with little hesitation or strain. A thought crossed Osbearn's mind, and his eyes grew wide in realization. Cuichelm was an elf!

The door opened suddenly, and all three looked towards the not-quite-elderly couple walking through. Heorogar and his wife each carried an armful of wood, setting it next to the fireplace. In fact, they seemed oblivious that their sons were back home. Heorogar moved a fourth chair next to the fire, placing himself between Osbearn and Cuichelm, and put a pot of water on a hook over the fire. Behind the group, Caelin started to chop a few vegetables pulled from the root cellar, as well as a large cut of smoked meat.

"So, boy, you're back. Who's this with'ya here?" Heorogar took a puff from a pipe seemingly produced out of nowhere, his rough words almost music to Osbearn's ears. Ealhwyn offered her hand, and it was met by Heorogar's work-worn, leathery hand.

"My name is Ealhwyn, sir, Ealdred's daughter from the temple."

"So that old man's still around, eh? Well, when you go back, tell him I said thanks." Another puff of smoke drifted from the pipe as Caelin brought over the meat and vegetables. "Until then, you're welcome to stay here, so long as you help out. I don't think m'boy's fully healed, considerin' all'o'them bandages still on 'im. And we oughtta start plantin' again soon 'fore the snows and such start comin' in."

***

So it went for another month, Ealhwyn helping out in place of Osric, and the winter planting was completed a little earlier than expected. By this time, Osric was up and about, still not fully healed, but able to help out with the household chores and such. When the time came, both Ealhwyn and Cuichelm boarded the wagon that had carried Osric from the city in, and as they collected their few things they had brought, Osbearn found Heorogar in the field.

"Father, I wish to go back into the city with Ealhwyn and Cuichelm. With your blessing, I wish to become a paladin." A pleading look on his son's face caused Heorogar to pause in his work, though he noticed a twinkle in the eyes that gave away his true intentions. A smile grew across the old man's face, and he clapped his son on the shoulder.

"Boy, don't try and hide it. I know you're takin' a real shine to that girl, an' I know you're thinkin' of askin' her ol' man for her hand. However, if'n ya really want to be one o' them pally-dins, then I guess I can let ya go. 'N fact, I'm surprised yer brother din't ask first, what with th' celestial blood in our veins." The confused look on Osbearn's face gave his thoughts away like the cover of a book, and Heorogar laughed.

"Yep, it's true. Your great-great-grandmother Leofcwen met one o' them when she was a young'un, younger'n you, in fact, an' they had themselves a couple a' young'uns. An' they had young'uns, and so on and so on, until I was born, an' then you were born. Sure, it may'n't be 'nough to call ourselves one o'them Assimers even, but th' blood o' th' holy heavens runs through you an' I. 'N fact, I met ol' Ealdred at th' church 'n th' city. O'course, this was years ago... However, I got som'thin' fer ya 'fore ya go, an' I don' want yer brother t'see it. Follow me."

Forcefully planting his hoe into the ground, Heorogar led Osbearn down into the root cellar, and moved aside a large shelf, kicking up a lot of dirt and dust in the process. When Osbearn stopped coughing, he saw a rather large chest that had been otherwise hidden away, and his father kneeling to unlock the large brass padlock on the front.

With a small click, the lock opened, and Heorogar opened the heavy lid, revealing a pile of bluish interlocking rings. Osbearn's eyes grew wide as the metal seemed to be bright and shiny, even though the dusty chest had been sitting here for as long as he knew. Looking at his son, Heorogar chuckled a bit.

"Boy, this here's the armor I wore when I was an adventurin' age. I got this from a group o' grateful dwarves, an' she's been good t'me since. Made o'mithral, she is, an' she'll do ya good too." Pulling the mithral chain from the chest, Heorogar handed the armor to Osbearn, draping the metal over his outstretched arms. Surprisingly, the armor was much lighter than it looked, and Osbearn moved to put it on.

"No, boy. If'n yer gonna head to th' city, th' guards don't take too kin'ly to armored thugs on th' street. Not unless you got permission from one o' th' guilds, or th' church. That's why Cuichelm there c'n walk aroun' without a problem. An' until you got permission, keep that beauty away from th' guards. Som'thin' like that'd be snatched and sold 'fore ya know it. Now git, 'fore ya gotta walk to th' city." Heorogar claps Osbearn on the shoulder again, and pushes him back towards the cellar entrance.

***

And so it was that Osbearn, Ealhwyn, and Cuichelm traveled back to the church, and Osbearn soon took up training under the watchful eye of Ealdred. Learning much in the ways of both healing and combat, he got along with many of the other paladins in the temple, and earned more than a passing glance from some of the younger ladies. It was with a heavy heart and a promise in mind that Osbearn left the temple, and Ealhwyn, to venture out as a fully trained paladin, hiding his father's chainmail underneath a cloak. One day he will return, but that day seems to be far into the future...
Uberwoot
09-18-07, 11:13 PM My first thought was that, after spending a few short months under the care of the church developing a crush on Sam, Eirik would be reunited with his family, at which time he would meet the greatest influence of his life: the awe-inspiring knight in shining armor who was assigned to protect his family. Depending on the degree of protection his father needs, the church might need to raise Eirik, even though his family survived the ordeal.

Alternatively, the church's protection might have failed- partially or completely- causing Eirik to be raised either by the remnants of his family under the protection of the church (due to the cleric's promise) or by the church itself if no such remnant existed.

As for the rest, I imagine it would be various examples of how he came to be the level he is while retaining his down-to-earth personality, and at the same time beginning to subconsciously utilize spontaneous arcane magic.

...or was that the problem? I could definitely come up with ideas for that, but whether I could make them compelling or not (and non-cliche) would be another story.

Oh yeah, your writing. I dig.

/woot
Aniodia
09-19-07, 09:27 AM No, no. I just needed to figure out a way to get him as a paladin. I already have the idea for when he starts to show sorcerous ability, I just needed to bridge the gap from 'country bumpkin' to 'spell-slinging holy warrior'.

Oh, and thanks. I suck at writing, but when I get on a roll, it just flows onto the screen like nothing.
Aniodia
09-19-07, 07:29 PM Bump, because I finished the story and am looking for criticism before I hand it in to my DM.
Uberwoot
09-20-07, 12:19 AM The name changes confused me for a bit, but overall I like it. Mentioning traces of celestial blood is a nice touch that helps explain why he will gain sorcerous abilities later in his career. My only issue with it at this point is perhaps a superficial one: I found myself, near the end, wishing for a bit more advice on the part of the father for his departing son. Things along the lines of, always work hard, treat the girls nicely, etc. etc.- the kind of advice that would serve a down-to-earth paladin well.

Also something you might consider adding is a short entry that explains what happened exactly between Osbearn and Ealhwyn; I wanna know whether they got hitched, or whether they're waiting for some reason, be it his training or church requirements. I don't even know if she found a different guy, for crying out loud! Please enlighten me... even if you don't add to the story. :)

/woot
Aniodia
09-20-07, 01:01 AM Yeah, I changed the names, if only because I found a website that had more Anglo-Saxon sounding names. Besides, Osbearn translates to "divine warrior", and Ealhwyn is "temple's joy". Yeah, I know, kinda cheesy, but still sounds good.

Regarding the "add more advice", I will, though it may take a day or two to come up with something appropriate. Thanks for the idea (again).

As for the budding romance, well, I haven't started to play yet, so that very well may be resolved when the game is all said and done. I have my ideas, but things may change at the DM's notice.

Post/Author/DateTime	Post
Aniodia 09-18-07, 04:47 PM	Well, I'm starting to play in a new campaign, and with the help of Uberwoot, I've finished creating a backstory, and would like some honest criticism. We start at level 5, and I plan on playing a Paladin4 /Sorcerer1 , planning on going into Silver Pyromancer (from Five Nations) at level 10/11. The setting is Medieval England, around 1000 A.D. It's rather low-magic, and wizards often keep to themselves in towers. Other arcane casters, on the other hand, are more common, but are looked down upon. I plan on playing him a bit differently from other paladins. Instead of being the knight in shining armor, standing out like a sore thumb, I was looking for more of a laid-back, holy-yet-not-'holier-then-thou', exemplar of the common man style. Kind of like Bill the Paladin (http://forums.gleemax.com/showthread.php?t=891691), except not undead. However, not until 3rd-4th level Sorcerer would he realize that some of his spells are drawing on different stores of magic than what his Paladin spells are. He would actually tend to mistake his spells, whether Paladin or Sorcerer, as coming from the gods. In all actuality, one of his ancestors was a celestial, though not close enough in his past to be considered an Aasimar. In any case, below is what I have so far. Any suggestions would be at least looked at, if not included if it would fit. Born in a bustling city, Osbearn, his older brother and sister, and their parents lived rather quiet existences, moving away when Osbearn was only two years old. When asked about it, his father said that he realized that living in the city was a form of slavery, and that it took him 15 years and three children to realize it. In any case, for much of his life, Osbearn and his family lived in relative quiet, working their farm, and making a modest living. Every so often, his father and older brother traveled into the city to sell what extra they had grown, and came back with a few interesting items. After his 16th birthday, Osbearn asked his father to take him into town the next time they went, as his memories (what little there were) were old and fuzzy. After much pleading, he agreed, and when the wagon was set to go into town again next year, there were three seats in the front instead of two. It took most of the morning before the tallest buildings came into view, and even then, it was still quite a while before the city walls loomed before the trio. Riding through the gate, Osbearn watched his father talk to one of the guards briefly, and the soldier pointed farther down the lane. As they rode further on, Osbearn caught his brother placing a hand on a hilt very nearly hidden under his cloak. Saying nothing, he turned his attention to the multitude of buildings, shops, and vast number of people packed into such a small area. It seemed like a blink of an eye had passed before his father and brother were setting up a small stand, unloading the average harvest from the back of the wagon. After helping them, Osbearn's curiosity got the better of him and he wandered off into the marketplace, drinking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the city. His feet took him far from his family, and Osbearn still kept looking around at the various items on sale. More than a few stands were selling food and harvest goods, like his family, while others had a multitude of weaponry, yet others tried to sell jewelry both ordinary and fanciful. What caught his attention, more than anything on sale, was the small group of about 15 or so guards pushing their way through the crowds, headed back the way he came. Following them, almost like he was one of them, he watched as the crowd thinned, and people were just standing around, right around where his brother and father were. In fact, that blood-spattered wagon looked awfully familar... * Osbearn awoke slowly, the light above hurting his eyes. Sitting up slowly, his head spun, and forced him to lay back down. His movement did not go unnoticed, as an unfamiliar face looked over at him. As his eyes adjusted, Osbearn could see that it was a young woman, younger than his older sister, but older than he was. She brushed a loose strand of auburn hair out of her face as she smiled at him and walked over. Pulling up a stool, she grabbed a wet washcloth and laid it over his forehead. "It was about time you woke up. Father Ealdred was wondering how many days you had been unconscious." As she spoke, Osbearn's mind raced. Days? I've been asleep for days? What about Father, and Osric? Oh god, they were.. Osbearn started to sweat and look around wildly, and the woman just put a hand on his shoulder and gently yet forcefully pushed him back down to the bed. "Calm down! It's safe here." The young lady looked away for a moment. "I know you're worried about what had happened to your folks. Well, from what I've heard, it seems that your father had gotten one of the major adventuring parties angry at him, and he was attacked in the market. Your brother drew a sword, and held them off until your father could escape. Reports say he killed anywhere from 3 to 10 of them before tiring. He was nearly dead when the guards got to him, and our clerics have been working feverishly to keep him alive. We found you when we were removing the bodies from the streets, and nearly buried you with the rest of the dead. Were it not for Ealdred's sharp eyes, you would be underground right now." "Where's my father?" Osbearn croaked out the words, wincing as his throat screamed in pain. The lady looked back at him, and said, "From what we've gathered, he made it out of the city safely. We've assigned a paladin to watch over your family the next couple of months, just in case." Not a moment after her lips stopped moving, a large man draped in white robes walked into the room. His mere presence calmed Osbearn, and the young lady moved to his side, head bowed. Holding her to his side, hand on her shoulder, he moved over to the bed, and looked down at Osbearn. The voice that bellowed out of the man nearly shook the bed, or so Osbearn thought. "So I see you've met my daughter Ealhwyn. I do hope she hasn't been bothering you, boy." A hearty laugh shook the old man, and Osbearn smiled and shook his head. "Well, that's good. Now, your father Heorogar is a good friend of mine, and I told him that I'd look after him if anything happened. I meant it, though I didn't want to actually have to. It's bad luck to look forward to treating a friend's ills, you know. In any case, it's good to see you've grown into a strapping young man, almost the spitting image of your father. I just wish it didn't have to happen under such circumstances. "Anyway, I'll have Ealhwyn here keep an eye on you until you are well enough to get back to your folks, and I'll keep an eye on you when I can pull myself away from your brother. If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask. Now if you'll excuse me, I have your brother to attend to, as well as the rest of my congregation." Clapping Ealhwyn on the shoulder, he left her side and walked towards the door. "Oh, and Ealhwyn, do let the poor boy get enough rest. He's been through so much these past few days." The door closes, and Ealhwyn looks at Osbearn, almost apologetically. "You have to excuse my father. He's a bit boisterous, even for a cleric. Anyway, I'll leave you to your rest, and I'll see you later." As she says this, Osbearn notices a bit of a blush creep over her face, but she turns and leaves the room before he can be sure of anything. Sighing, and again wincing as his throat is exercised, he turns to his side and drifts off to sleep. * A couple of months passed by rather quietly, with Ealhwyn spending a bit more time on Osbearn rather than her duties. While Osbearn could have left at any time, he felt a need to stay with his brother, aiding in his recovery. Day after day, he slowly learned more and more about the church, and why Ealhwyn and her father remained in the city instead of out in a smaller town, like his father did. In addition, he started sitting in on the Father's services, fascinated by the stories told and tales spun. At times, it seemed to Osbearn as though the only thing differentiating the Father from a traveling minster were the robes and lack of an instrument. When Osric was well enough to stand, and thusly well enough to travel, the brothers and Ealhwyn took a cart and horses, and traveled back to the quiet farmhouse. By this time, Osbearn was well aware that Ealhwyn had affections toward him, and as they traveled, contemplated as to what his own feelings were. Idle chat passed the time as they rode, and it seemed a much shorter distance coming back than it did heading towards the city, and before long, the small home could be seen over the horizon. Riding up to the house, Osbearn and Ealhwyn helped the still infirm Osric from the wagon and to the door, only to be greeted by a large, imposing figure. This hulk of a man stood at least a head taller than Heorogar, and was clad from head to toe in shining silver mail, a golden glow from the fire behind him adding to the awesome sight. The man studied the faces of the three, and a glint appeared in his eyes as a smile spread across his face. "Why, my dear Ealhwyn! It's been a while! And it seems you've brought a couple of friend with ya, too!" The man steps out of the doorway and almost effortlessly hoists Osric off of his feet. Carrying the battered young man, the armored figure leads the way back into the warm household, followed by Osbearn and Ealhwyn. With a gentleness that his frame belies, the armored man lays Osric onto a bed and turns towards the two. Bowing his head, he looks up at Osbearn. "I do not believe we've met. I am Paladin Cuichelm, son of Wulfmaer. Father Ealdred sent me here to protect your family, and told me that you and your brother would return as soon as possible." Cuichelm pulled out three chairs, setting them beside the hearth as he sat. Osbearn and Ealhwyn did the same, Osbearn still a little awestruck by the paladin. Ignoring Ealhwyn and Cuichelm striking up a conversation, he studied the paladin thoroughly, watching as the fire created a dancing golden shimmer from head to toe. As his gaze traveled upwards, he noticed that beneath the dark brown hair, Cuichelm's ears were drastically pointed upwards, an earring with a stylized silver flame hanging from one. Curious, he studied the elder man's face as well, noticing his countenance was more slender, more angled than that of his father's. And the fact that even in his heavy armor, the man moved fluidly, with little hesitation or strain. A thought crossed Osbearn's mind, and his eyes grew wide in realization. Cuichelm was an elf! The door opened suddenly, and all three looked towards the not-quite-elderly couple walking through. Heorogar and his wife each carried an armful of wood, setting it next to the fireplace. In fact, they seemed oblivious that their sons were back home. Heorogar moved a fourth chair next to the fire, placing himself between Osbearn and Cuichelm, and put a pot of water on a hook over the fire. Behind the group, Caelin started to chop a few vegetables pulled from the root cellar, as well as a large cut of smoked meat. "So, boy, you're back. Who's this with'ya here?" Heorogar took a puff from a pipe seemingly produced out of nowhere, his rough words almost music to Osbearn's ears. Ealhwyn offered her hand, and it was met by Heorogar's work-worn, leathery hand. "My name is Ealhwyn, sir, Ealdred's daughter from the temple." "So that old man's still around, eh? Well, when you go back, tell him I said thanks." Another puff of smoke drifted from the pipe as Caelin brought over the meat and vegetables. "Until then, you're welcome to stay here, so long as you help out. I don't think m'boy's fully healed, considerin' all'o'them bandages still on 'im. And we oughtta start plantin' again soon 'fore the snows and such start comin' in." * So it went for another month, Ealhwyn helping out in place of Osric, and the winter planting was completed a little earlier than expected. By this time, Osric was up and about, still not fully healed, but able to help out with the household chores and such. When the time came, both Ealhwyn and Cuichelm boarded the wagon that had carried Osric from the city in, and as they collected their few things they had brought, Osbearn found Heorogar in the field. "Father, I wish to go back into the city with Ealhwyn and Cuichelm. With your blessing, I wish to become a paladin." A pleading look on his son's face caused Heorogar to pause in his work, though he noticed a twinkle in the eyes that gave away his true intentions. A smile grew across the old man's face, and he clapped his son on the shoulder. "Boy, don't try and hide it. I know you're takin' a real shine to that girl, an' I know you're thinkin' of askin' her ol' man for her hand. However, if'n ya really want to be one o' them pally-dins, then I guess I can let ya go. 'N fact, I'm surprised yer brother din't ask first, what with th' celestial blood in our veins." The confused look on Osbearn's face gave his thoughts away like the cover of a book, and Heorogar laughed. "Yep, it's true. Your great-great-grandmother Leofcwen met one o' them when she was a young'un, younger'n you, in fact, an' they had themselves a couple a' young'uns. An' they had young'uns, and so on and so on, until I was born, an' then you were born. Sure, it may'n't be 'nough to call ourselves one o'them Assimers even, but th' blood o' th' holy heavens runs through you an' I. 'N fact, I met ol' Ealdred at th' church 'n th' city. O'course, this was years ago... However, I got som'thin' fer ya 'fore ya go, an' I don' want yer brother t'see it. Follow me." Forcefully planting his hoe into the ground, Heorogar led Osbearn down into the root cellar, and moved aside a large shelf, kicking up a lot of dirt and dust in the process. When Osbearn stopped coughing, he saw a rather large chest that had been otherwise hidden away, and his father kneeling to unlock the large brass padlock on the front. With a small click, the lock opened, and Heorogar opened the heavy lid, revealing a pile of bluish interlocking rings. Osbearn's eyes grew wide as the metal seemed to be bright and shiny, even though the dusty chest had been sitting here for as long as he knew. Looking at his son, Heorogar chuckled a bit. "Boy, this here's the armor I wore when I was an adventurin' age. I got this from a group o' grateful dwarves, an' she's been good t'me since. Made o'mithral, she is, an' she'll do ya good too." Pulling the mithral chain from the chest, Heorogar handed the armor to Osbearn, draping the metal over his outstretched arms. Surprisingly, the armor was much lighter than it looked, and Osbearn moved to put it on. "No, boy. If'n yer gonna head to th' city, th' guards don't take too kin'ly to armored thugs on th' street. Not unless you got permission from one o' th' guilds, or th' church. That's why Cuichelm there c'n walk aroun' without a problem. An' until you got permission, keep that beauty away from th' guards. Som'thin' like that'd be snatched and sold 'fore ya know it. Now git, 'fore ya gotta walk to th' city." Heorogar claps Osbearn on the shoulder again, and pushes him back towards the cellar entrance. * And so it was that Osbearn, Ealhwyn, and Cuichelm traveled back to the church, and Osbearn soon took up training under the watchful eye of Ealdred. Learning much in the ways of both healing and combat, he got along with many of the other paladins in the temple, and earned more than a passing glance from some of the younger ladies. It was with a heavy heart and a promise in mind that Osbearn left the temple, and Ealhwyn, to venture out as a fully trained paladin, hiding his father's chainmail underneath a cloak. One day he will return, but that day seems to be far into the future...
Uberwoot 09-18-07, 11:13 PM	My first thought was that, after spending a few short months under the care of the church developing a crush on Sam, Eirik would be reunited with his family, at which time he would meet the greatest influence of his life: the awe-inspiring knight in shining armor who was assigned to protect his family. Depending on the degree of protection his father needs, the church might need to raise Eirik, even though his family survived the ordeal. Alternatively, the church's protection might have failed- partially or completely- causing Eirik to be raised either by the remnants of his family under the protection of the church (due to the cleric's promise) or by the church itself if no such remnant existed. As for the rest, I imagine it would be various examples of how he came to be the level he is while retaining his down-to-earth personality, and at the same time beginning to subconsciously utilize spontaneous arcane magic. ...or was that the problem? I could definitely come up with ideas for that, but whether I could make them compelling or not (and non-cliche) would be another story. Oh yeah, your writing. I dig. /woot
Aniodia 09-19-07, 09:27 AM	No, no. I just needed to figure out a way to get him as a paladin. I already have the idea for when he starts to show sorcerous ability, I just needed to bridge the gap from 'country bumpkin' to 'spell-slinging holy warrior'. Oh, and thanks. I suck at writing, but when I get on a roll, it just flows onto the screen like nothing.
Aniodia 09-19-07, 07:29 PM	Bump, because I finished the story and am looking for criticism before I hand it in to my DM.
Uberwoot 09-20-07, 12:19 AM	The name changes confused me for a bit, but overall I like it. Mentioning traces of celestial blood is a nice touch that helps explain why he will gain sorcerous abilities later in his career. My only issue with it at this point is perhaps a superficial one: I found myself, near the end, wishing for a bit more advice on the part of the father for his departing son. Things along the lines of, always work hard, treat the girls nicely, etc. etc.- the kind of advice that would serve a down-to-earth paladin well. Also something you might consider adding is a short entry that explains what happened exactly between Osbearn and Ealhwyn; I wanna know whether they got hitched, or whether they're waiting for some reason, be it his training or church requirements. I don't even know if she found a different guy, for crying out loud! Please enlighten me... even if you don't add to the story. :) /woot
Aniodia 09-20-07, 01:01 AM	Yeah, I changed the names, if only because I found a website that had more Anglo-Saxon sounding names. Besides, Osbearn translates to "divine warrior", and Ealhwyn is "temple's joy". Yeah, I know, kinda cheesy, but still sounds good. Regarding the "add more advice", I will, though it may take a day or two to come up with something appropriate. Thanks for the idea (again). As for the budding romance, well, I haven't started to play yet, so that very well may be resolved when the game is all said and done. I have my ideas, but things may change at the DM's notice.