I was planning on making my character a fire genasi, but I fear there might be too much overlap with Feyblue's cool tiefling so I might choose something else ^^;
I was planning on making my character a fire genasi, but I fear there might be too much overlap with Feyblue's cool tiefling so I might choose something else ^^;
Okay, but hear me out. A party where everyone is either on fire, a cat, or a cat that is also on fire.
I was planning on making my character a fire genasi, but I fear there might be too much overlap with Feyblue's cool tiefling so I might choose something else ^^;
Not to influence you one way or another, but since the party size is only 4-5 and there looks like there will be well over 4-5 character sheets submitted, there's gonna be some competition either way. Concepts are probably going to overlap. I think whatever your strongest idea is, go for it!
I mean if you don't have a problem with it, I'll go ahead. Just didn't want you to feel I was stepping on your toes
Yeah, go ahead. I don't mind having characters with such broad similarities as "focused on fire magic." Besides, if we both end up in the thing it could help give our characters stuff to talk about if they're similar.
Though, I think Genasi might be a bit unusual for the setup Gowi has planned what with all of us being peasant kiddos and stuff? So rather than worrying about me, you may want to ask her? Idk.
Yeah Genasi seems like a tad bit of a fetch, I'd think Gowi would say - though of course I don't speak for her. She also does not like Genies apparently so there's that xP
Also I'm sure fire magic definitely wont trigger ptsd in any of our party members. Not at all..
Yeah Genasi seems like a tad bit of a fetch, I'd think Gowi would say - though of course I don't speak for her. She also does not like Genies apparently so there's that xP
Also I'm sure fire magic definitely wont trigger ptsd in any of our party members. Not at all..
Yeah Genasi seems like a tad bit of a fetch, I'd think Gowi would say - though of course I don't speak for her. She also does not like Genies apparently so there's that xP
Also I'm sure fire magic definitely wont trigger ptsd in any of our party members. Not at all..
I don't dislike genie/djin, I just don't know how to design that patron for players who pick warlock. That said, genasi might be a bit too exotic for the setup of Ardenfeld even with it being a more welcoming townstead of multiple ways of life.
Are we using the Feats from Tasha's Cauldron?
What feats were you curious about? Anyway, once we incorporate feats I might allow them, yeah.
I don't dislike genie/djin, I just don't know how to design that patron for players who pick warlock. That said, genasi might be a bit too exotic for the setup of Ardenfeld even with it being a more welcoming townstead of multiple ways of life.
This town has a potential crowd of birdpeople, catpeople, and a whole swath so I don't see why not. Probably one of the rare people in the town, though. Ardenfeld was predominantly human, but that's not a huge factor for MCs. :)
<Snipped quote by Bartimaeus> I don't dislike genie/djin, I just don't know how to design that patron for players who pick warlock. That said, genasi might be a bit too exotic for the setup of Ardenfeld even with it being a more welcoming townstead of multiple ways of life.
<Snipped quote by Asura> What feats were you curious about? Anyway, once we incorporate feats I might allow them, yeah.
Tor has never quite gotten a handle of controlling or even understanding his own emotions. While definitely not as bad as he used to be, he constantly struggles with stress, frustration and self-doubt. Even in his better moods, there's always something slightly forced, like he's trying very hard to enjoy himself, both for his own sake and for others. He wants to be happy, he feels he's at a point in his life where he should be capable of being happy, but there's always this lingering feeling that, even when things are good, they could very easily go wrong. Even when he's genuinely enjoying himself, he never seems relaxed, always a little jittery, never able to sit still for too long, and sometimes bordering on hyperactive. It can... a lot at times, but it's better than alternative, because when Tor hits a low mood, he really hits a low mood, with full on emotional break-downs, swearing, verbally lashing out at others, and occassionally punching a wall. He has gotten better at recognising when he's getting to this state, and will remove himself from others if he feels he's about crack. He really doesn't want people to see him like that. He wants to get to a point in his life where he can strong, if not for himself than at least for those he cares about. He wants to the kind of person who is control during a crisis, who can rally others together and solve a problem. However, even after all these years, that goal still seems as far away from him as ever, and he is constantly chastising himself to improve.
My Story
Born to a half-orc mother and a human father, Tor has always struggled with anxiety. In his early years, this merely manifested in him being a little quieter and shyer than the other kids, though he was always vaguely aware of this nervousness that seemed to follow him wherever he went. This, he realised only later, was likely a product of his homelife: his father was a soldier, and thus rarely around. Any time he returned home, he was distant and Tor felt intimidated in his presence. Tor's mother, on the other hand, was loving, if a bit overprotective. Being one of the only half-orcs in Ardenfeld, she didn't leave the house that much or socialise with any of the other townsfolk. She was also reluctant to let Tor play with the other children. In her mind, he was a frail child, so much scrawnier than he should have been, even when she did relent, she often was very strict about how long he should be out and what he should and should not to. She did loosen up a little once Tor reached his preteens, but the damage was done: Tor never quite felt safe outside the walls of his house, never felt entirely comfortable. While it was great he got to spend more time with other children and exploring the world, and certainly did start to come out of his shell, he was never able to just relax. His nervousness started to express itself in different ways, from bursts to hyperactivity to frustration to, as he reached thirteen, full-blown anger, and he could shift between all of these states pretty much on a dime. One minute he'd be enjoying himself with his friends, the next time the smallest thing would set him off. He'd get upset, storm off, and neither he nor the other kids could grasp why that happened. He felt confused, unable to understand himself and that further fueled his anger.
Then the destruction of Ardenfeld happened, and the already shaky foundations that his life was built upon came crumbling down. Tor's father was not home to protect his family, his mother died fighting off the bandits in an attempt to protect her son, and Tor and the other surviving children were taken to the Landeil Family Orphanage in Sarinan. Despite numerous attempts to get in contact with him, Tor's father never responded or showed, which either meant he had been killed in battle or, what Tor more suspected was the case, he wasn't willing to take on the responsibility of actually being a parent to his son. This... was not good. Tor was not long to be fourteen years age, meaning he wouldn't be at the orphanage long before he was too old to be considered 'adoptable' and would be thrown out onto the streets to fend himself. This was the point that Tor's stress-fueled rage went from him getting a little huffy and verbally lashing out to actually aggressive. If anyone made slightest action towards him or the other Ardenfeld orphans that could be construed in a negative way, he would punch, kick, bite and even full on wrestle with them. By the time he became fourteen, the orphanage was pretty happy to see the back of him.
He spent about a year and a half on the streets, and during the whole time, as stole and fought to survive, his anger only grew, until one day, when he took it too far and brutally attacked someone he was trying to steal from. While the person didn't die, it was enough to get Tor locked away in a cell for a couple of days, with talk of him possibly being moved to prison in Pallaviel. While Tor felt guilty for what he did, his anger remained him all while he was locked up. He was angry at his father for not being their to protect them, he was angry at his mother for not running away with him, angry at the bandits who destroyed his life, angry at the orphanage, angry at the city, angry at his fellow orphans because they weren't here going through all this with him... and eventually, just angry with himself. When anger finally died, he just felt so tired. He fell asleep...
... and when he woke up, someone else was watching him from outside the cell. A wood elf man in strange clothes, wearing some sort of emblem that Tor didn't recognise. The man introduced himself as Ilanis, and said he had come to collect Tor. Tired and having no fight left in him, Tor assumed he was there to transport to Pallaviel, and just went with him. However, it didn't take him long to realise that this was not the case. Ilanis didn't cuff him, despite the guards warning him to do so, and lead him far away from civilisation towards the mountains. Turns out, Ilanis was a group of small, obscure monastic group the Order of the Still Pool, dedicated to the goddess Eldath. Some of the higher members of this order, like Ilanis, had visions of those who's lives had been troubled or broken by violence, and would seek them out in order to help them undergo spiritual healing. That's where Tor stayed for the next few years, training his body and soul, learning how to recognise when he was becoming stressed or overwhelmed and picking up techniques in order to calm himself again, such a meditation and prayer. He also discovered a love of cooking while here, which worked as a way to get his mind off things, though sometimes came with its own frustations. He also got some combat training, though he was repeatedly told that, as a follower of Eldath, he was only use his skills in defense of himself or others, never to attack first and always strive to find peaceful solutions to problems. Tor tried his best to follow these teachings, and while his aggression was never as bad as it once was, he still struggled a lot with frustration and keeping his cool in a crisis. He wondered if he would ever be at the level of spiritual peace the Still Pool promised him, and as the tenth anniversary of Ardenfeld's destruction drew closer, he decided he wanted to leave the temple, at least for a little, to figure out where he wanted to from here. Ilanis and the other high-ranking members of the order were hesitant, but realised that, while they didn't feel Tor was ready to leave them, he needed some time to sort some things out. He's been on the road ever since.
Going Forward
While in the angrier moments of his youth Tor may have entertained thoughts of tracking down the bandits that destroyed his village, these days he just wants to be a good person, and to live up to the ideals of Eldath and the Still Pool. In particular, with the tenth anniversary just round the corner, he wants to be there for the other Ardenfeld orphans. As he is one of the older kids who survived the bandits' destruction of his home, he feels a responsibility to them, like a big brother or something. He feels he needs to be the strong, stabilising influence in their lives during this distressing time. Plus, he still feels a bit guilty for how he acted during that one year they were at the orphanage together... while he may have seen himself as protecting them from the orphanage staff and other kids, he feels now he may have only been adding to the stress. He just wants to reconnect with his friends again and prove to them (and himself) that he can be strong, that he won't fall apart again. And maybe, just maybe, if he can recognise that strength within himself, he might finally be able to see where he wants to go with his life.
And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go get some sleep... *collapses in a corner somewhere*
Tor has never quite gotten a handle of controlling or even understanding his own emotions. While definitely not as bad as he used to be, he constantly struggles with stress, frustration and self-doubt. Even in his better moods, there's always something slightly forced, like he's trying very hard to enjoy himself, both for his own sake and for others. He wants to be happy, he feels he's at a point in his life where he should be capable of being happy, but there's always this lingering feeling that, even when things are good, they could very easily go wrong. Even when he's genuinely enjoying himself, he never seems relaxed, always a little jittery, never able to sit still for too long, and sometimes bordering on hyperactive. It can... a lot at times, but it's better than alternative, because when Tor hits a low mood, he really hits a low mood, with full on emotional break-downs, swearing, verbally lashing out at others, and occassionally punching a wall. He has gotten better at recognising when he's getting to this state, and will remove himself from others if he feels he's about crack. He really doesn't want people to see him like that. He wants to get to a point in his life where he can strong, if not for himself than at least for those he cares about. He wants to the kind of person who is control during a crisis, who can rally others together and solve a problem. However, even after all these years, that goal still seems as far away from him as ever, and he is constantly chastising himself to improve.
My Story
Born to a half-orc mother and a human father, Tor has always struggled with anxiety. In his early years, this merely manifested in him being a little quieter and shyer than the other kids, though he was always vaguely aware of this nervousness that seemed to follow him wherever he went. This, he realised only later, was likely a product of his homelife: his father was a soldier, and thus rarely around. Any time he returned home, he was distant and Tor felt intimidated in his presence. Tor's mother, on the other hand, was loving, if a bit overprotective. Being one of the only half-orcs in Ardenfeld, she didn't leave the house that much or socialise with any of the other townsfolk. She was also reluctant to let Tor play with the other children. In her mind, he was a frail child, so much scrawnier than he should have been, even when she did relent, she often was very strict about how long he should be out and what he should and should not to. She did loosen up a little once Tor reached his preteens, but the damage was done: Tor never quite felt safe outside the walls of his house, never felt entirely comfortable. While it was great he got to spend more time with other children and exploring the world, and certainly did start to come out of his shell, he was never able to just relax. His nervousness started to express itself in different ways, from bursts to hyperactivity to frustration to, as he reached thirteen, full-blown anger, and he could shift between all of these states pretty much on a dime. One minute he'd be enjoying himself with his friends, the next time the smallest thing would set him off. He'd get upset, storm off, and neither he nor the other kids could grasp why that happened. He felt confused, unable to understand himself and that further fueled his anger.
Then the destruction of Ardenfeld happened, and the already shaky foundations that his life was built upon came crumbling down. Tor's father was not home to protect his family, his mother died fighting off the bandits in an attempt to protect her son, and Tor and the other surviving children were taken to the Landeil Family Orphanage in Sarinan. Despite numerous attempts to get in contact with him, Tor's father never responded or showed, which either meant he had been killed in battle or, what Tor more suspected was the case, he wasn't willing to take on the responsibility of actually being a parent to his son. This... was not good. Tor was not long to be fourteen years age, meaning he wouldn't be at the orphanage long before he was too old to be considered 'adoptable' and would be thrown out onto the streets to fend himself. This was the point that Tor's stress-fueled rage went from him getting a little huffy and verbally lashing out to actually aggressive. If anyone made slightest action towards him or the other Ardenfeld orphans that could be construed in a negative way, he would punch, kick, bite and even full on wrestle with them. By the time he became fourteen, the orphanage was pretty happy to see the back of him.
He spent about a year and a half on the streets, and during the whole time, as stole and fought to survive, his anger only grew, until one day, when he took it too far and brutally attacked someone he was trying to steal from. While the person didn't die, it was enough to get Tor locked away in a cell for a couple of days, with talk of him possibly being moved to prison in Pallaviel. While Tor felt guilty for what he did, his anger remained him all while he was locked up. He was angry at his father for not being their to protect them, he was angry at his mother for not running away with him, angry at the bandits who destroyed his life, angry at the orphanage, angry at the city, angry at his fellow orphans because they weren't here going through all this with him... and eventually, just angry with himself. When anger finally died, he just felt so tired. He fell asleep...
... and when he woke up, someone else was watching him from outside the cell. A wood elf man in strange clothes, wearing some sort of emblem that Tor didn't recognise. The man introduced himself as Ilanis, and said he had come to collect Tor. Tired and having no fight left in him, Tor assumed he was there to transport to Pallaviel, and just went with him. However, it didn't take him long to realise that this was not the case. Ilanis didn't cuff him, despite the guards warning him to do so, and lead him far away from civilisation towards the mountains. Turns out, Ilanis was a group of small, obscure monastic group the Order of the Still Pool, dedicated to the goddess Eldath. Some of the higher members of this order, like Ilanis, had visions of those who's lives had been troubled or broken by violence, and would seek them out in order to help them undergo spiritual healing. That's where Tor stayed for the next few years, training his body and soul, learning how to recognise when he was becoming stressed or overwhelmed and picking up techniques in order to calm himself again, such a meditation and prayer. He also discovered a love of cooking while here, which worked as a way to get his mind off things, though sometimes came with its own frustations. He also got some combat training, though he was repeatedly told that, as a follower of Eldath, he was only use his skills in defense of himself or others, never to attack first and always strive to find peaceful solutions to problems. Tor tried his best to follow these teachings, and while his aggression was never as bad as it once was, he still struggled a lot with frustration and keeping his cool in a crisis. He wondered if he would ever be at the level of spiritual peace the Still Pool promised him, and as the tenth anniversary of Ardenfeld's destruction drew closer, he decided he wanted to leave the temple, at least for a little, to figure out where he wanted to from here. Ilanis and the other high-ranking members of the order were hesitant, but realised that, while they didn't feel Tor was ready to leave them, he needed some time to sort some things out. He's been on the road ever since.
Going Forward
While in the angrier moments of his youth Tor may have entertained thoughts of tracking down the bandits that destroyed his village, these days he just wants to be a good person, and to live up to the ideals of Eldath and the Still Pool. In particular, with the tenth anniversary just round the corner, he wants to be there for the other Ardenfeld orphans. As he is one of the older kids who survived the bandits' destruction of his home, he feels a responsibility to them, like a big brother or something. He feels he needs to be the strong, stabilising influence in their lives during this distressing time. Plus, he still feels a bit guilty for how he acted during that one year they were at the orphanage together... while he may have seen himself as protecting them from the orphanage staff and other kids, he feels now he may have only been adding to the stress. He just wants to reconnect with his friends again and prove to them (and himself) that he can be strong, that he won't fall apart again. And maybe, just maybe, if he can recognise that strength within himself, he might finally be able to see where he wants to go with his life.
Oooh. I really like this character concept. I feel like it'd definitely have some interesting interactions with my own if we end up both accepted. Feels like they'd have plenty of common ground, but also both have boatloads of emotional issues to keep them from quite meeting each other in the middle. Both have a lot of pent-up anxiety and self-worth issues, and hide themselves away from other people "for their own protection."
...Plus, y'know, she's extremely uncomfortable around any kind of clergy on the one hand, but he has the power to make tasty treats on the other. Could definitely see him having to win her over with food. XD
Either way, looking forward to seeing how he plays out. He seems rough around the edges, but still a cinnamon roll. :3
The strong, silent type. Given his (former) profession, it would only make sense that Ulreik is someone who prefers actions to words, as what he lacks in rhetoric and wit, he has in work ethic. That said, it's not like he holds any sort of pride over his work, as he is completely modest with what he does. After all, why would someone be proud of digging graves? It is an honest job, if macabre, but it's not like he's anyone special for doing it.
Believing that he is cursed due to his tragic upbringing, Ulreik prefers to keep others at a distance. It is why he ended up tending graves in the first place. After all, he believes it's better if he hung around the dead over the living. It's because of this that Ulreik has made little friends aside from his fellows from Ardenfeld. In place of interacting with others, however, Ulreik has dedicated much of his focus to improving himself and getting things done. A determination developed by someone who spends too much time alone.
My Story
Even before the attack, Ulreik's life was already filled with tragedy. His mother had died during childbirth, leaving himself and his father on their lonely little farm on a hill. It didn't help that every time it was the day of Ulreik's birth, something bad would happen in the small ranch of theirs. When he turned two, their cattle had gotten sick and were nearly all killed off. When he was four, a terrible famine struck their farm just before the month of harvest. At seven, their barn had been struck by lightning. It was coincidences like these that caused Ulreik's father to call him a cursed child, regretting that he was ever born.
On his ninth birthday, Ulreik's father had sent him to Ardenfeld, a town only a few paces away from the farm, to run some errands. In truth, he had only sent the boy out so his presence wouldn't cause another travesty to happen. Of course, this was the same day of the attack. During the siege of the lowly hamlet, Ulreik had blacked out in the chaos. When he had finally come to, he was surrounded by the other surviving children of his age, mere minutes after the highwaymen had sacked the village.
Believing himself to be truly cursed, Ulreik broke away from the other children as soon as he was able to, running back to his home. It, too, was ablaze. Their crops had been stomped out, their animals dead or taken, and their barn all but destroyed. Ulreik had found his father's body, already bled out, nestled atop the small mound that was his mother's grave. It was such a sight that had finally broken the idea to the boy's mind that he was actually cursed.
When the older survivors had found Ulreik, he was clutching a shovel almost as large as he was, standing in front of two makeshift graves.
Ulreik's time at the Landeil orphanage was as expected. The more superstitious folk shared the same beliefs as the boy's father, believing Ulreik to be a child that would only bring tragedy and death. Many of the other children in the orphanage saw this and used this as enough of a reason to pick on the poor boy. Much like his father's abuse, this bullying was merely another form of penance that Ulreik believed he deserved. Of course, this didn't mean he wouldn't fight back.
At the age of thirteen, Ulreik was kicked out, having gotten into far too many physical altercations with the other children. With nowhere else to go, Ulreik had gone back to the only place he had known, back to his father's ranch. When he returned, Ulreik was surprised to see that it had turned to a new graveyard. What was once a place where life is cultivated had now turned into a land where the dead would have their final rest. Ulreik would soon find the place where his mother and father were buried, now a part of a mass grave dedicated to those who lost their lives during that fateful day in Ardenfeld.
Believing that the dead should at least have some form of memorial other than merely being buried together, Ulreik had made his way to the groundskeeper's abode, finding it empty but unlocked. Procuring some tools and a pair of planks, the boy would fashion a makeshift memorial, listing the date of the attack as well as a few harrowing words.
"We have not forgotten."
When the graveyard's groundskeeper, a wizened halfling, had returned, he would see the boy resting near the mass grave, tired boh from his work as well as his journey from Sarinan. The halfling dragged the boy back to his home, waiting for him to awaken. When Ulreik had come to, the halfling first scolded the boy for using tools not belonging to him before complimenting him on his handiwork. Introducing himself as Osmund, he gave the young Ulreik an offer soon after finding out that he had no place to go: help him tend the graves in exchange for room, board, and maybe a wage if he does a good enough job.
And so, Ulreik began his work as a gravedigger, tending to the very same lands his father had done years before. He would learn many things from Osmund, from boarding up a grave template to properly sawing out a casket. He also learned other skills from the halfling's past life as well. Osmund was not a stranger to death even before he became a grave tender, having served in the Pallaviel military as a scout. Keeping his larger build in mind, Osmund drilled Ulreik in many of the basic sword techniques taught to fresh recruits. Ironically, it was a place of death that Ulreik would truly find the most growth for himself.
Many years would pass, and soon, Ulreik's nineteenth birthday would come closer and closer. Having spent much of his coffers on a set of hand-me-down armor, a battery shield, and an old sword, Ulreik would prepare himself to face his curse head-on.
Going Forward
Beyond potentially getting revenge on the bandits who had slain his father, Ulreik truly desires to overcome his supposed curse. He wishes to rise above it, and to not let it control his life any longer. That being said, he's not quite sure how to go about it. There is always following Osmund's steps and joining up at Pallaviel, himself... But they wouldn't want a cursed recruit, now would they? Maybe he could also become a scout, staying on the outskirts of the battle rather than in the heart of it? Or perhaps he should just be a simple sellsword, dedicated to no cause but his own, so that his curse would not drag down anyone else...
In other words, Ulreik has not completely thought this through. At the very least, he'd like somewhere where he could belong, somewhere where his curse wouldn't trouble the lives of others. The dead make good company for this, but aren't quite the best when it comes to striking conversations with. That being said, he does not wish to merely abandon his past. If he ends up working as a gravedigger again, then so be it. He will continue to carry the memories of all those who have fallen. After all, he has not forgotten.
Sorry for the extensive backstory. I really need to work on condensing my writing...
That said, I do plan to extend the Going Forward section a bit more when we have a more solidified cast, just to see if we can link any backstories. For the time being, I don't think Ulreik has made any effort in contacting the other children due to obvious reasons, but he still does remember the promise he has made with them, and took it seriously.
The strong, silent type. Given his (former) profession, it would only make sense that Ulreik is someone who prefers actions to words, as what he lacks in rhetoric and wit, he has in work ethic. That said, it's not like he holds any sort of pride over his work, as he is completely modest with what he does. After all, why would someone be proud of digging graves? It is an honest job, if macabre, but it's not like he's anyone special for doing it.
Believing that he is cursed due to his tragic upbringing, Ulreik prefers to keep others at a distance. It is why he ended up tending graves in the first place. After all, he believes it's better if he hung around the dead over the living. It's because of this that Ulreik has made little friends aside from his fellows from Ardenfeld. In place of interacting with others, however, Ulreik has dedicated much of his focus to improving himself and getting things done. A determination developed by someone who spends too much time alone.
My Story
Even before the attack, Ulreik's life was already filled with tragedy. His mother had died during childbirth, leaving himself and his father on their lonely little farm on a hill. It didn't help that every time it was the day of Ulreik's birth, something bad would happen in the small ranch of theirs. When he turned two, their cattle had gotten sick and were nearly all killed off. When he was four, a terrible famine struck their farm just before the month of harvest. At seven, their barn had been struck by lightning. It was coincidences like these that caused Ulreik's father to call him a cursed child, regretting that he was ever born.
On his ninth birthday, Ulreik's father had sent him to Ardenfeld, a town only a few paces away from the farm, to run some errands. In truth, he had only sent the boy out so his presence wouldn't cause another travesty to happen. Of course, this was the same day of the attack. During the siege of the lowly hamlet, Ulreik had blacked out in the chaos. When he had finally come to, he was surrounded by the other surviving children of his age, mere minutes after the highwaymen had sacked the village.
Believing himself to be truly cursed, Ulreik broke away from the other children as soon as he was able to, running back to his home. It, too, was ablaze. Their crops had been stomped out, their animals dead or taken, and their barn all but destroyed. Ulreik had found his father's body, already bled out, nestled atop the small mound that was his mother's grave. It was such a sight that had finally broken the idea to the boy's mind that he was actually cursed.
When the older survivors had found Ulreik, he was clutching a shovel almost as large as he was, standing in front of two makeshift graves.
Ulreik's time at the Landeil orphanage was as expected. The more superstitious folk shared the same beliefs as the boy's father, believing Ulreik to be a child that would only bring tragedy and death. Many of the other children in the orphanage saw this and used this as enough of a reason to pick on the poor boy. Much like his father's abuse, this bullying was merely another form of penance that Ulreik believed he deserved. Of course, this didn't mean he wouldn't fight back.
At the age of thirteen, Ulreik was kicked out, having gotten into far too many physical altercations with the other children. With nowhere else to go, Ulreik had gone back to the only place he had known, back to his father's ranch. When he returned, Ulreik was surprised to see that it had turned to a new graveyard. What was once a place where life is cultivated had now turned into a land where the dead would have their final rest. Ulreik would soon find the place where his mother and father were buried, now a part of a mass grave dedicated to those who lost their lives during that fateful day in Ardenfeld.
Believing that the dead should at least have some form of memorial other than merely being buried together, Ulreik had made his way to the groundskeeper's abode, finding it empty but unlocked. Procuring some tools and a pair of planks, the boy would fashion a makeshift memorial, listing the date of the attack as well as a few harrowing words.
"We have not forgotten."
When the graveyard's groundskeeper, a wizened halfling, had returned, he would see the boy resting near the mass grave, tired boh from his work as well as his journey from Sarinan. The halfling dragged the boy back to his home, waiting for him to awaken. When Ulreik had come to, the halfling first scolded the boy for using tools not belonging to him before complimenting him on his handiwork. Introducing himself as Osmund, he gave the young Ulreik an offer soon after finding out that he had no place to go: help him tend the graves in exchange for room, board, and maybe a wage if he does a good enough job.
And so, Ulreik began his work as a gravedigger, tending to the very same lands his father had done years before. He would learn many things from Osmund, from boarding up a grave template to properly sawing out a casket. He also learned other skills from the halfling's past life as well. Osmund was not a stranger to death even before he became a grave tender, having served in the Pallaviel military as a scout. Keeping his larger build in mind, Osmund drilled Ulreik in many of the basic sword techniques taught to fresh recruits. Ironically, it was a place of death that Ulreik would truly find the most growth for himself.
Many years would pass, and soon, Ulreik's nineteenth birthday would come closer and closer. Having spent much of his coffers on a set of hand-me-down armor, a battery shield, and an old sword, Ulreik would prepare himself to face his curse head-on.
Going Forward
Beyond potentially getting revenge on the bandits who had slain his father, Ulreik truly desires to overcome his supposed curse. He wishes to rise above it, and to not let it control his life any longer. That being said, he's not quite sure how to go about it. There is always following Osmund's steps and joining up at Pallaviel, himself... But they wouldn't want a cursed recruit, now would they? Maybe he could also become a scout, staying on the outskirts of the battle rather than in the heart of it? Or perhaps he should just be a simple sellsword, dedicated to no cause but his own, so that his curse would not drag down anyone else...
In other words, Ulreik has not completely thought this through. At the very least, he'd like somewhere where he could belong, somewhere where his curse wouldn't trouble the lives of others. The dead make good company for this, but aren't quite the best when it comes to striking conversations with. That being said, he does not wish to merely abandon his past. If he ends up working as a gravedigger again, then so be it. He will continue to carry the memories of all those who have fallen. After all, he has not forgotten.
And another one who I think would have great potential interactions with Aethra, what with both of 'em being "cursed" in one way or another. XD I especially like how the imagery in their backstories is exactly reversed -- the destroyed home Aethra thought of as a graveyard ended up teeming with life, whereas his lively home became a literal graveyard.
Timber was always, pun intended, a straight shooter. He always wanted to do the right thing, and was so bad at lying because he would always snarl and show the teeth on the right side of his face. He was always loyal to his friends, trying unsuccessfully any time his friends got in trouble to take the blame for them. Of course, given everything that has happened since Ardenfeld, Timber now has a very difficult time trusting anyone beyond his friends. Since his home and family were slaughtered, everyone Timber has met has always been trying to use him for one thing or another. That being said, Timber has learned that the best way to handle these people is to never let anyone know what he was thinking or feeling. The more you keep your cards close to your chest, the easier it is to get by in this cutthroat world. While Timber works for criminals, he finds he has a code that he is willing to bend to help distance himself from the more nefarious criminal activities that occur in the world. While willing to transport illegal goods in exchange for payment, he tries not to steal anything himself unless absolutely necessary... and so long as he's stealing from someone who doesn't deserve to keep what is being stolen. It may be because of the complexities in civilization that Timber tends to identify himself more with the laws and will of nature. The only place he ever feels truly free or safe are in the forests on the way to Pallaviel, where he can slip through the trees off the beaten path as if he were a fish in water.
My Story
Timber knew from an early age that he loved the forest. He loved to gather berries with his father to preserve into jams, or to sneak about with his mother as she was on the hunt for dinner. It was a nice, quiet life in Ardenfeld. Timber was naive and loyal to all the others as best as he could be, being on the younger end and only 8 at the time of the raid. He would do anything for his friends, especially if it meant he would take the brunt of any scoldings or punishments. He hated seeing them in trouble. It was his job to be the one in trouble.
No one ever claimed Timber, and he couldn't really blame them. He was a scrawny weak kid in the orphanage, and was timid and unsociable to strangers. The last strangers he had seen took everything from him. He only had his friends, who one by one left him as well. So when time came to leave the orphanage, Timber decided he would try to make his way in the forest. He ended up wandering, gathering just enough to keep himself trudging on. It was winter, and the snow chilled him to the bone. He was weary and dizzy and just a few months older than 14 when he found a dying fire in the woods, a clear sign someone was camping. There was a bedroll that seemed to be stuffed and covered by some traveller. The traveller had even left some rabbit cooking and burning over the fire. It was a shame to be wasteful, so Timber crept up and devoured what he could. As he finished his small feast, he turned his gaze to the bedroll and saw a middle-aged man pointing a hand crossbow at the boy. This man, known as Dain, couldn't bring himself to shoot the starving boy. But there was no way the smuggler was going to let some wandering tabaxi spill the fact that he was using the forest to smuggle things in and out of Pallaviel. So, a deal had to be made.
Timber didn't have much of a say, as Dain kept reminding him. Timber owed Dain a life debt for saving him from starving in those woods. Dain worked on behalf of a criminal organization known as the Crimson Claw that specialized in the procurement and transport of illicit goods. And so Dain took to teaching Timber all he knew about travelling carefully through the forest to smuggle goods. And beyond this, Dain taught Timber how to survive in the wild if the law ever seemed to be catching wind of their work. They would smuggle art pieces or small relics throughout the land, usually running them up to Pallaviel where they could be fenced to the elite. But Dain and Timber didn't just smuggle. When Timber was seventeen and already proficient with a bow and his swords, Dain accompanied his apprentice on a more volatile task. They tracked and hunted down a former member of the Crimson Claw who was trying to make off with a valuable painting. Of course, Timber and Dain knew the forest like the back of their hands, and Dain forced Timber to take the shot. As Timber watched in horror at what he had done, Dain looked pleased.
"We are even, Timber. You're one of us now. Don't ever forget it."
For the last year, Timber has only worked a handful of jobs for the Crimson Claw to keep himself afloat. Dain has been letting Timber work on his own, giving Timber assignments here and there and moving into the roll of a fixer within the organization. Timber has been preparing and gathering basic supplies to get ready to make his way back to Ardenfeld, and preparing himself to face his friends again.
Going Foward
Timber is ashamed deeply for his past actions. He has been forced into service to the Crimson Claw because of his perceived debt to Dain... but now is bound to the organization by blackmail regarding his murder of a former member. The relationship between Timber and the Crimson Claw is purely professional, and Timber very much is hoping for a way out. He does not want to turn to the Claw, but has always found himself relying upon their support to keep himself afloat for the past four years. Regarding his friends, Timber wants nothing more than for them to not know what he has been involved with. He has not made direct contact with any, but would almost certainly put out feelers about their whereabouts and well-being indirectly through his contacts. He wants to ensure that they succeed in their futures, and he has a deep yearning desire to hunt down and stop the bandits who ruined their lives. Timber doesn't think about his own future too much, but does see the best outcome as one where he is free from the bonds of the Crimson Claw and living in the forest like he was always meant to. He fears nothing more than being under the Crimson Claw's thumb for the rest of his life. But despite being considered "even" by Dain, he can't help but think his debt will never be considered unpaid. And that's not something Timber wants to think about for too long.
Decided to go for it. The challenge of using almost entirely the PHB was fun to make a few character concepts, but Timber seemed to be the most interesting concept personally. Vague criminal organization connections, but most importantly just a guy with a bow who likes the woods felt the most appropriate for a low-magic setting.