Character Backgrounds

[Candace]

Here it is, a place for the stories of who our intrepid heros are, what makes them who they are.

I know we have some writers out there so lets see who these guys are.

[Candace]

Her long crimson locks tremble ever so slightly as she turns to face you. They shimmer in the flickering firelight, a cascading wave of soft curls that spill over her milk white shoulder. Her face that same pale cream, accented by the two perfect emeralds of her eyes, each one flecked with copper that flashes in the dim light. A bemused smile danced across her ruby lips, parting slightly to reveal the perfect pearl white teeth behind. Perfect save one small detail, two delicate and elongated incisors.

“So my friend you wish to know my tale? Very well come and sit by the fire with me and I shall tell you the story of how I came to be as I am.” She seems to glide across the floor to an overstuffed chair facing the fire. She carefully sits as she motions to the chair across from the fire.

“Well in order to understand, what I am, I will need to take you back to before my birth. My parents were the Baron and Baroness of a far off land far to the north, leaders of their small secluded lands, beloved by their people, and fair and just in their rule. It was harsh world, surrounded by mountains on every side, but the seclusion also meant peace. No one dared to invade due to the harsh terrain and the meager resources.

It was a quiet life and after as time went on the Baroness was with child. The months passed and the people were planning for the celebration of the Barons first born. After a few months the Baroness contracted the most peculiar of illnesses. Her color became pale, her energy waned, and all the physicians the Baron sent for were at a loss and could only attribute it to the pregnancy. Each morning the Baroness’s condition seemed to deteriorate little by little. The physicians warned the Baron that he might lose both his beloved wife and their unborn child.

There was little to be done but wait, hope, and pray to the gods for a miracle. As the weeks went by the Baroness was at the threshold of death, and the Baron stood vigil by her bad throughout the night. As the moon rose high in the nights sky, the Baroness began to rouse, life returning to her pale form. The Baron moved to embrace his beloved, but as he advanced her face changed and she grabbed for him, her mouth opening into a twisted snarl revealing the elongated incisors within. He recoiled from her monstrous form, and looked at her in horror. What reached her, what found the small part of her that was still human is still an unknown, but her features softened, back into that of his love. Tears of blood streamed down her face, and with the last bit of her humanity she reached for the dagger on the bedside table. She plunged the knife into her belly and cut her baby from her cursed form. She fell to the bed, the last of her blood staining the white satin sheets, the small pale baby girl cooing softly from within her mother’s cold arms.

The Baron cradled the lifeless form of his love and his newborn daughter until the sun came up and as the room flooded with the mornings light, the body in his arms burned away to ash, leaving only the small baby, who had yet to cry amidst all this tragedy.” She paused and took a sip from the silver goblet in her hand and closed her eyes for just a moment, awash in the memories.

“The circumstances of the Baroness’s death were kept a secret from all but the Baron’s most trusted advisors. The official story was that the Baroness had died in childbirth, as was actually true. There was a period of mourning and after a few months the Barons daughter and heir was introduced to her people. She was named Elizabeth, after her mother. Even as baby, she was beautiful and graceful, and the people loved her at once.

As she grew her father doted upon her, she was the jewel of his kingdom. She had gowns, and jewels, servants and hand maidens. The more she grew the more beautiful she became, and more graceful she became. Her moves so unearthly fluid she seemed to almost float upon the ground. As peaceful as everything seemed though, the Baron had come to notice a few things which gave him cause for concern. Elizabeth never seemed to eat more than a bite or two of any meal, and the servants would never stay long, after a month of two at most, most would ask to be released from the assignment to the young girl. None would say that she treated them badly, but they all felt unnerved around the child.

The Baron sat down with his daughter one day, when she was in her 10th year. She was young still, but he could wait no longer. He sat down with her, placing her gently on his knee and hugging her tight. She could feel his apprehension, his fear hidden just beneath his cool exterior. “It’s alright father, you don’t need to be scared. I know I’m not like all of them.” He looked up into her little face, there was so much hidden in the depths of her little green eyes. She smiled warmly at him, her lips parting into a little grin, revealing the same elongated incisors he remembered so well from that night 10 years ago. He had seen her dancing and playing in the sun, she did not wince from it, she did not burn up in its light. It seemed unlikely that she was afflicted by the same curse that had claimed her mother, but perhaps she had been touched by it.

He sent for the best sages in the land and brought them into the biggest secret of his land. All concurred that his beloved had been the victim of a vampire. The bite cursing her, in her already weakened state to death and then unlife. When she was at deaths door that night she had in fact already died, and come back. The fact that she had resisted killing him and gave her life to save her child was in fact a testament to the strength of her will and her love for them both. The mystery surrounding the child however was a deeper issue. Only one of the sages had ever heard of such a case before, a monsterous child resulting, who killed his mother in childbirth and quickly grew to be a murderous blood crazed boy, killing many of his playmates before being destroyed by the church for his unholy lineage.

All but the one sage were sent home, sworn to secrecy on the young girls history. The one sage was hired on, under the guise of a tutor for Elizabeth. He stayed to watch and study the child and to advise the Baron as to the inclinations of his beloved daughter, no matter how hard they would be to hear.

Years passed and the sage grew to love the now young lady as much as the Baron. She had a gentle nature and in all the years had never shown any trace of violence, she did however have a taste for blood. Knowing her lineage it did not surprise the sage at all, and he just smiled whenever she would offer to kiss a cut to make it better for someone in the manse. As she grew she began to show signs of latent magical abilities. The sage took to his tutoring role in full now and taught her to tap into the power of her own blood to make things happen. The gardener would often be found standing motionless in the gardens, a sure sign the Elizabeth had passed his way and picked a rose, against his wishes.

Legend of her beauty spread far and wide, and before long suitors came seeking the hand of the 16 year old maiden. None stayed long, each would remain a week at most, each would leave unnerved by the woman they had once hoped to wed. Over time the young woman came to accept the seclusion of her world, and the loneliness that would surround her.

As more and more time passed, the sage aged and grew old and bent, her father grayed and grew weaker, the girl stayed young and beautiful as if time could not touch her. It was only a matter of time and her beloved teacher died. She stood over his tomb in the moonlight and placed a rose at its head. Her father lay on his deathbed, his beloved daughter sitting on the edge of his bed doting on him for a change. “It has been 50 years my dear child, yet you are still as beautiful as your 18th birthday. I know you love your home and I had hoped to never need to say this, but once I am gone you must leave this place. The people are superstitious, they love you that is true, but at the same time you scare them. Not by your actions, but by your being. You have not aged in 32 years. You must leave before their fear turns to hate. Please leave and be safe. If you do this I can leave this world and be at peace.” Tears rolled down his wizened face as he held her hand tightly in hers. She closed her eyes and nodded, in all these years she had still never cried. “I will do as you wish father.”

The next day her father was laid to rest in the mausoleum and she placed a single red rose on his chest, right above his heart. As the people began their month of mourning for their beloved ruler, she returned to her family home and packed her bags, sneaking away from the only home she had ever known, like a thief in the night.” She paused again and gazed into the dancing flames, a soft smile on her ruby lips, her delicate fingers lightly caressing the rose in the vase next to her.

“It has been 74 years since I left my home. I have seen people come and go, no one desires to be around me for long. Churches shun me for my unholy lineage, and townspeople would hunt me if they knew of some of the things I have done. I have done my best to keep to the lessons I learned in my youth, but I have had my moments of weakness as well. That is what I am, who I am. I am what all of the events in my life have made me, as are you. I am Elizabeth Von Darovich, and I am very please to meet you.”

[Candace]

by anndr.deviantart.com

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[The Dungeon Master]

Clear note (Cody N.)

There was once a wondering group of Elfs known as the Lost tribe, they were said to be the descendants of a once great city, but were forced to become homeless after a rather bloody falling out with there gods. All of there fields grew baron and there water ran dry.they had no choice but to leave, they brought what they could, but they traveled light, and only brought what they could carry on there persons and inside a caravan. one of the possessions they brought along from there homeland was a powerful bow known as the oathbow, said to have been given to the old king by a messenger of the gods.
Martaugh Lyflin, was an elf child from that wondering group of elfs, his family was supposedly of blood relation to the last great king, but that didn't matter, without a kingdom, who needed a king? Martaugh was young, but brave for his age, he would often spearhead hunting parties, and his catches were the stuff of legend, many nights he spent under the moon wondering what it must have been like to watch it from a warm bed, but everyday his clan would move to a new location.
One day they found a quaint little area near a large lake, they hunkered down there for a few days, and after a while started to decide whether to stay there. Martaugh grew fond of this place, and they named it Oasis, one day when Martaugh was out hunting in the new lands forests, he came across a owl that had fallen out of its nest, "you must be very brave little one to attempted a jump like that" he would take this owl home and gave it food and water, after a few weeks the owl was peeping around and flapping around like it had been there forever he decided to name the owl Clue, and together they would adventure this new land. After almost a year in Oasis many grew worried that something terrible would happen to them, so there was a meeting of the leaders to decided what they would do, it was decided that anyone who wished to leave Oasis could do so by choice, but that this was going to be there new home. Martaugh was overjoyed to find out, the boy finally had a place to call home.

Over the next few weeks thing were great, the town flourished, and buildings were raised, people celebrated and festivals were thrown in honor of Oasis. Martaugh, now 13 underwent his naming ceremony, something his tribe did when all turned 13, he was given the name Clear Note, in honor of his spotless past . But like any good thing, there's always something bad. A Elf named Red Wave was discussed at the thought of the clan, and he was sure the gods were going to do something for there insolence, he even went as far as preforming an ancient ritual to summon an undead monster army. Clear Note's clan fought the zombie hordes, but the numbers were just to overwhelming, many fell, and in secret a plan was organized to take out Red Wave, who was found out to be the traitor. Clear Note was placed into this group, they attacked the place where Red Wave was, and in victory managed to mortally wound him. In his dyeing breath Red Wave said allowed something that would seal the fate of his clan. suddenly an aura surrounded him, and his eyes grew red, he was undead just like the others, but his mind remained and his powers grew. Red Wave slew most of Clear Notes men, and forced them into the building that housed there treasures from the old kingdom. Clear Note was forced into close combat, and his bow was broken, he fled farther into the building, and there he found the oathbow, he grabbed it knowing any bow was better then no bow. his last two remaining men fell to Red Wave, all was lost... or was it... as Clear Note started to lose himself to his own fear something whispered to him, say out loud the name of this creature, and it will fall. Clear Note did just that, without any knowledge why his body moved, his hand tightened around the bow string, and he yelled as hard as he could "RED WAVE".
Immediately the arrow hit Red Wave, right in the head, ripping it completely off his body. Clear Note stood there, totally confused, As Clue few in with a message. It said, If you get this message and your still alive then run, run as fast as you can out of here, the undead are going to be upon us in seconds, and we are to few in numbers to survive. Clear Note did just that, away he ran with Clue on his shoulder and the oathbow in his hands, now at age 20 he is at the town known as sandpoint, his hopes all but gone, he now wonders the lands looking for something he can never have, a home.

[The Dungeon Master]

Kylar (Cody)

Kylar the Blue was born Kylar Kruger. He was raised by his father who was the priest of the local church, who suffered from a sever case of alcoholism, his mother passed away during his birth. he was also a stillborn, dead upon arrival. Kylars father quickly made a runic symbol on the floor and put kylars body in the middle of it, he stated praying to any god that would listen to save his son. Suddenly his body came to life, oddly his little blonde hair changed to a blue color and the crys of a baby could be heard within the building, it was at this point that Kylars mother slipped away, accepting the fate that befell her. Kylar took a particular interest in the god Sun Wukong. He began making pilgrimages on his behalf at an early age. magic came easy to him, and in time he had mastered some feats that even the most daring of priests would do. Being an Aasimar Kylars father had a lot of pressure upholding the church, and his alcohol intake got the better of him when Kylar was around 70 year old. Kylar has a special ritual every fathers day, he gets royally plastered in honer of his father, who he clames was the best man that ever existed.

[Candace]

Ulma was born in the mountains of the Linorm Kings far to the north. Born into a modest family of miners, her birth went largely unnoticed as it occurred less than a week after the birth of the young prince. The birth of a royal heir meant celebration and feasting, and so quietly with no interruption to the great feast Ulma was born.

Devoid of any facial hair she was regarded as a homely child, unlikely to do well in the dwarven world. However as she grew, she grew to be quite beautiful, if still devoid of beard. Her powerful emerald eyes could draw in even the sternest of dwarves, and her long chestnut curls hung in ringlets down her back, the front sections which she had taken to braiding.

On the eve of her 15th birthday, while wandering her favorite section of mines alone. Ulma slipped, a small diamond lay loose on the sloping floor. She hung grasping the edge of the mine shaft. Her calls echoed off the far reaches of the mine. Her fingers slipped and she plummeted, her hand caught on a small rock outcropping some fifty feet below the ledge she had been on.

A handful of dwarven miners had begun to gather at the ledge above her, and some more a hundred feet below her on the next ledge down. As they worked to get into their mining harnesses, Ulma felt her hand slipping again. Her throat ached and her fingers bled, as she whispered out. “Please help me.” Tears in her eyes, she began to feel a ledge just under her feet. Gasp arose below her as she collapsed down upon the ledge, which gently lifted her back up to the miners above, who had only just gotten into their harness and were readying to repel down the cliff face.

Ulma woke to find herself on a massive bed, her fingers washed and bandaged, and a set of clean clothes lay folded on the fine linen sheets next to her. Unsure of where she was, she dressed quickly and looked about the room for any evidence of her whereabouts. The room was devoid of any clues as to her whereabouts, and so after trying in vain to open the only door, she fall back asleep her head resting on her knees, and back to the cool stone wall.

Ulma awoke to the sound of the door lock opening. She stood, expecting guards to come in at any moment. Instead an older Dwarf came in and motioned for her to come and sit at the table with him. “A stone singer, eh? Well let’s see if the rumors that are buzzing all over the mountain are true.” His long white beard was parted and his eyes were kind, if not filled with a deep nameless pain. “You are Ulma if I am not mistaken. You were born not long after the prince, I believe. A dwarf girl is a rare thing indeed, a stone singer even rarer still. Could you be that rare a jewel?” She sat confused by his words, of course she was Ulma, everyone knew the beardless dwarf girl, and a stone singer, well that term she had never heard before. She could sing of course, all dwarves love a good song, but a stone singer was a new term to her.

“I can see, I have jumped a bit too far ahead. Maybe you can start by telling me how you got off the side of the cliff.” He leaned forward and took a biscuit from a large bowl and tearing it in half, popped one half in his mouth.

“I don’t remember, I was walking, the same paths I always do. There was a stone, a loose stone and I slipped, no one was around, everyone had retired to Torag’s Feast. I called and called, but then I slipped, I was lucky to have caught onto that small outcropping of rock. A handful of miners must have heard me, because there was a few gathering on the ledges above and below, they started to get into the mining gear. I must have slipped a little further, although I don’t remember slipping, but I found a little foothold and was able to use my feet to keep from slipping further. But I must have collapsed as they reached me, because I don’t remember much else."

“No one got a chance to make it down the cliff face to you. The ledge your feet found, the outcropping your fingers caught on. Those were not there before you fell, and they aren’t there now. Yet everyone that saw it says the same thing, the rocks shifted to form a ledge under you, that then carried you safely back up to the ledge above.” He reached into folds of his burgundy robes and pulled a large chunk of stone from within their depths. “Ulma, take this in your hands, and I want you to focus on one thing, your favorite animal perhaps, something that you can focus every thought on.

Gently, he placed the piece of stone into her cupped hands. She marveled at its coolness and felt the stone as she rolled it about in her hands. She focused on an animal she had seen once racing along the forest edge, the first time she had gone outside of mountains. She closed her eyes and smiled remembering the strength and size of the creature, its dark hair matching her own, his dark eyes so deep like twin lakes of ink. She hadn’t told anyone she had actually wandered over to him, she had secreted away from her mother’s side while she perused the market.

His fur was soft, and his paws had been massive to her, so big and yet so gentle. She remembered every detail on him the small chunk missing from his left ear and the battle scar across his ebony nose. She opened her eyes and looked down at the chunk of rock in her hand. The chunk of rock had never left her hand she knew that, she had been aware of its presence the entire time. In her hands was a perfectly sculpted stone likeness of the bear she had met once.

The old dwarf laughed heartily, his face beaming. “I can work stone just as well as the next dwarf, but you my dear can do something that has been lost to us all for generations. Something even I have never seen the like of, and only read one other account of in all my days. You are a stone singer.” He bounded up from his chair, and with a quick bow, ducked out the door.

In a matter of moments the King burst through the door. “So this is my stone singer!” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. “Good, good see that she is cleaned up and dressed appropriately for her new station. Think of how much faster we will be able to mine, with her leading the way she can open great new chasms for us to work, and a pretty little thing too, shame about the beard. Torag truly blesses my kingdom.”

The world spun around her, faster and faster. Years passed as each day saw her opening new causeways for the dwarf miners, and pushing the stone further and bending it to her will. Her family was given land, and power in the dwarven kingdom, and yet with each day she grew lonelier and more forlorn. She could see the king’s greed; his lust for gold would never be satiated no matter how many new veins she exposed.

It was early one morning as she was getting ready for another day she overheard the cooks speaking. “Can you believe it? The king ordered preparations this morning. As soon as the Stone singer is of age, he’s having a wedding feast and will marry her. A second wife! A beardless one at that, something is just not right about that. A second wife never heard of such a thing. No wonder it’s being kept all hush hush.”

“Isn’t she still only a child anyway, I mean she’s younger then the young prince. Can’t imagine she’d want to marry someone the kings age…even if he is king. Be wiser to arrange her as wife to the young prince, but who does arranged marriages anymore.”

“The king wants everyone to know that his rein was tied to the Stone singer. Just another jewel in the treasury.” They voices began laughing as they went back to their work, as Ulma stood motionless in the shadows.

Back in her room, she sat upon the stone floor and prayed to the dwarf-father. If her heart were as the stone she could leave this place and know it was forever safe from the harm that could be wrought upon it by the greed of the soul.

She called for one of the servants and asked them to deliver a small parcel the following day. Her old friend was away, on an errand for the king no doubt, but when he returned he would find this one small gift. He had been kind to her and was always eager to share a story and listen when she needed to speak to someone. With the package delivered she gathered up a few meager supplies and let the stone show her the path to freedom.

The crescent moon hung low in the sky as she bid farewell to her homeland and ventured out into the darkness beyond.
She traveled all day and all night, up into the wooded areas high in the mountains. Up to where the snow tipped mountains stayed chill in even the hottest of summer days and the fouler things of the world take their rest. Up beyond the reaches of kings and dwarves, beyond that of men and elves. She spent her days communing with the mountains and the living stone, until one day after summer had come and gone, she met an old friend wandering the heights with her.

Once again she ran her fingers through his soft fur and felt his warm nose in her palm. He had grown even bigger still. He now stood towering over her small frame. With a flick of his head he flung her up into the air and caught her on his back and took off through the trees, at a blinding pace. Ok, blinding for a dwarf. Not really known for their sprinting abilities, dwarves.

They raced on for hours, until coming at last to a small cave that cut deep into the mountainside. The bear had stored up meats enough for three winters in this small cave. The warmth of the cave was a pleasant change from the harsh winds up on the mountainside. In a short while she fell asleep, a bear four times her size standing not five feet away.

Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years, as the two grew inseparable. Ulma named him Thur'n or soul in the dwarven tongue, as for the first time since leaving her homeland she felt whole.

Often a large shape could be seen prowling the forests edge for game, a small figure sitting aloft on its back. Men grew fearful of approaching the mountain, for fear of the mountain spirit. Although Ulma and Thur'n had never done more than scare off those who tried to harm the mountain, the legends of the mountain spirit grew and before long people left her mountain in peace.

Once more she feels the pull of The Dwarf Father, he who named her Guardian of the Mountains. So now she sets off, to answer his call and restore his balance to the world, though the road may take her far from her beloved mountain home...

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[ihvnnm]

So, you are interested in my backstory? Very well, but it’s for the birds, eh, that’s a joke.
I was born in a small town to the west, located at the base of the Mindspin mountains; an area which was primarily populated by giants and garuda in constant battle. My town was simple, protected by the Garuda, or at least the Giants were more interested in fighting them than us. My mother, while traveling between towns, was attacked and raped by a garuda. In fear that the town would kill her if they knew, as it was thought that garuda blood would attract Giants, as that was the popular myth of the time, so she kept the pregnancy and birth a secret.
Luckily I was born appearing normal, and thus was allowed out into the village. While my body developed slower, which caused a great deal of teasing and bullying, I was much stronger, faster, and intelligent than most, which caused even more bullying. Rumors spread that I was unnatural, but at least it was kept as only rumors until I hit puberty. My body started to develop metallic scales, and with that, the villagers turned into an unruly mob against my mother and I.
Regretfully in the commotion my mother was slain early on. I was able to hold my own, as I never let fear get the best of me, but that was before IT came… Early into the evening a giant stormed into town and with one mighty swing it took out most of the villagers as it roared in rage. It took one look at me and knocked me out with another swing.
I awoke, several hours, days? I do not know, in a rusty cage in a dark cave, it looked like the giant decided to keep me as a trophy. The walls were lined with other cages, but most of them were filled with skeletons from various creatures, humans and garudas. One of the few living creatures was a hawk that was next to me, which became my only companion during the darkest days of my life.
For years I was trapped in the cage, it fed rotting scraps of flesh from things it killed. I never cared to know what it killed, and I knew I was better off never knowing. The giant used me as a beat up doll, it threw me around the cave, for its amusement. Finally one day luck blessed me that when the giant threw me next to the fire pit. I was able to latch onto a long branch, which it used to stoke his pitiful fire. As it came to grab me, I jammed the branch into one of its eyes. In a deafening roar that would of terrified anyone else vigor rushed through my blood. As I headed for the entrance I heard the shriek of the hawk as it fluttered in its cage, knowing I couldn’t leave it here to die I went back and broke it out. Then together we raced out of the cave as the giant chased after us with blood blinding his one good eye. Eventually the last I heard was him cursing both my human and garuda blood.
With nowhere to go, I followed the hawk back to its nesting area on top of the mountains where various large birds of prey nested. For the next twenty years, I acted as champion and guardian of the aeries from predators, hunters, and monsters; I guess one cannot fight their own heritage when it comes to protecting. While living on my own, I learned how to hunt, strike fear into creatures, use nature to my benefit, to see the unseen and move swiftly and silently.
One evening over the passing winds it called out to me. A fire within my soul ignited, it pulled me eastward, to Magnimar. Something about the balance of power was in beginning to shift and that it would bring doom upon us all if not corrected. I could not ignore the call, as it screamed from within, I then knew what my destiny will be. I packed up what little I had and immediately headed out, I only looked back once, which was when I saw one of the young hawks following me. I didn’t know if it heard the call, was sent to protect me or was following me because of the treats I fed him. Either way, he has joined me on my journey, as we expose the destiny that expanded out in front of us. While I see the journey ahead, the destination remains blinded to me, but I know that perseverance will bring balance back to the world.