I had to write a backstory for one of my D&D chars and got a bit carried away. But Ive been told it is decent at least and decided to post it here, tell me what ya'll think.
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My name is Veldryn DaiKaMaishan. Veldryn, Renegade Heir of house Maishan, and this is my journal. I am writing this to pass on my story, how I came to be where I am now, an outcast and fugitive, how I developed the very powers that I am shunned for and my future adventures for they are sure to be many.
I feel I should start with the history of my House for it would be beyond arrogant of me to assume that any reader would know what I am writing about. Many centuries ago a Sorcerer by the name of Ranlen Maishan came to a heritage of great power, the heritage of draconic blood from which his, and all his sorcerer descendants, power derived from.
Ranlen became known as the Dragon Lord in his time and founded the house of Maishan. Unfortunatly his heritage did not pass on at full power to his Heirs, or their offspring and within a century the house was but a minor one. Soon it became in service to a more powerful house to insure its own survival. House Maishan is currently in service to House Cannith, a Dragonshard House no less. Irony seems to be everywhere in life.
I was born seventy years ago to the Lord and Lady of Maishan. I was the second son, the Spare Heir so to speak, and my name was Veldryn TouMaishan. Veldryn, Sorcerer heir of Maishan. I have been told that from the day of my birth that I was destined to become the most powerful sorcerer of Maishan in generations. At birth my skin had a dull Bronze sheen that eventually faded into a slight tan, sheen that it is said Ranlen himself was born with.
Several more entries follow detailing the childhood and early training of Veldryn before the next entry of significance.
Now, to when my trouble truly began. We were in a battle, House Cannith against some other house who I cannot even remember the name of anymore, or maybe I dont want to remember. I had been increasing in my powers and now commanded a few House Maishan troops in Canniths name. The battle was not going well, I remember my men falling to enemy arrows and spells, our own seeming less effective than that of the enemies that were falling all around us. I remember vividly watching a man I had become friends with be sliced open like a pig for gutting, I still hear his screams in my nightmares and my own screams as my magic missiles slammed into the soldier that had killed him. I remember yelling for a cleric and scrambling over to him, but he was already dead. Time seemed to slow, I could hear the calls for retreat from the Cannith Mages and Generals. I can remember seeing the Archmage himself flying away at full speed on a floating disk, the Cannith mages ordering Maishan and other houses troops and sorcerers to cover their own flight of cowardice. I witnessed my best friend be murdered by a group of four soldiers. Atril, his name was Atril Ghaolt and I couldnt save him. He was the best friend I had in the world and I was powerless to stop those beasts from putting him down like a sick dog. I used the last of my magic to avenge him, killing three of the men with my most powerful ray of fire. But I knew, and by the look I received from the last soldier their so did he, I was out of magic. I can close my eyes and remember what happened next.
He was your friend, wasnt he? the soldier said with a snarl, bringing his blade around as he took a step towards me. You have done me a great service pitiful mage. Now I shall be rewarded for the death of two sorcerous dogs myself instead of having to share the glory. The soldier sneered and raised his sword, taking one more step closer to striking me. It was then, staring death in the face and feeling the rage and shame of my friends death that I felt it. Something inside me snapped and a power awakened within me. I was told later by a soldier that he could see me, could see my eyes glow with an inner flame as my skin seemed to tan deeper before his eyes. The soldier saw it too, and he stopped his advance, startled. It was the last thing he saw, I brought up my hands and issued forth a powerful ray of flame, fueled by rage and hatred and my new found power, a ray that I should not have rightfully been able to produce. I passed out after that, falling into a heap with the smell of burning flesh in my nostrils and the sound of House Cannith Warforged warriors joining the battle, we had won the day.
I awoke three days later in a healing tent to the face of an angel. Her name was Alaria Se'Regon, she had been caring for me personally since I was discovered on the field of victory among the slain. We became fast friends that day, both having lost a few to a battle that was not our own. We met often after that day, swapping tales of past deeds and misadventures, sharing company and friendship after a profound loss. I remember the day that I introduced her to Agamemnon, my familiar. It seemed like every time we met after that she would want to see him and talk to him, fascinated by such a lively toad. She eventually asked me, and I agreed, to help her gain a familiar for herself as I had helped a younger sibling long ago, but that is a tale for another place. That was over two years ago, and we still remain close friends to this day.
The event that changed my life happened less than two months ago, after morning meal in a mage barracks on Cannith Grounds. It had been a week after a particularly hard won battle. A battle on the eve of which I was granted a special gift in recognition of my growing prowess, a ring worn by Ranlen that was said to have many special properties. But the powers of the ring have become dormant over the years without a rightful successor but I am told that the right person can unlock the mysteries and powers of the ring given time. But I digress, back to the main story. Morning meal was just finishing up when a group of Cannith mages walk into our barracks, gloating over their recent victory. Among them was Nybur, a younger son and Mage in training of House Cannith. It was said he would be the one to take over as family Archmage when his older brother moved from the position. Well, that is what they used to say. Many Maishan had fallen in this battle, most in a desperate attempt to hold a key position after some Cannith General had ordered the Warforged on a foolhardy sortie that ended in disaster. It was widely acknowledged, among the soldiers and lesser houses at least, that House Maishan was the true reason of victory that day. I have been told that with my Draconic Heritage I had also acquired the pride and rage of a Dragon, that would lead to the biggest disaster, or best blessing, of my life.
So again, Nybur and his lackeys walk into the barracks, gloating how their House and magic won Them a great victory. With deliberate movements he stopped and looked at the table I was sitting at along with other house sorcerers and magi. Then he said Without the insignificant help of, lesser, races and mages. To which his cronies laughed uproariously. I had had enough. I uttered but a single word to which they stopped laughing, Mageduel.
What was that, Elf? You think you can challenge me, A full blooded Cannith Human? Dont make me laugh. Nybur sneered and his cohorts laughed along with him.
What is the matter Human, afraid you will lose? I said standing up, I still hadnt turned around.
Why you insolent little You shall pay for your arrogance! Then it happened. Knowing that I, a battle hardened sorcerer would be more than a match for him Nybur did the only thing he could think of to guarantee himself victory. He attacked me with my back turned. I could feel the magic missiles slam into my back, forcing me onto the top of the table while his friends laughed at the Helpless Elf. I stood back up, and turned around in time to take more missiles right into my chest, but the humans had stopped laughing. I had felt it, something snap just like last time but more. This time I could feel the flames in my eyes, feel my skin go to a deeper shade of bronze and shine slightly. Nybur was scared, I could sense the fear with him as he brought his wand back for a third magic missile strike, but I was faster. I felt the power of my spell course through my body to my hand, igniting with flame as I slammed it into his belly. I felt and heard his scream of agony as the flames dissipated but my hand kept going, ripping into his stomach, eviscerating him where he stood with nothing but my hand. I closed the gap between us, stared him in the eyes and could see the flames in mine reflecting back at me as his life drained out over my arm. I could feel the blood pumping out, all over me as my hand sliced through him like he was butter to a hot knife. I wrapped my hand around his spine and whispered into his ear as he died clutching my shoulders, I bow to no one anymore. And with that, I pulled. I could feel the bone snap in my hand and begin to come out of his body before I let him fall to the ground.
I could faintly feel pain in my hands and looked at them, they had become claws. For some reason this revelation did not surprise me as I stood there covered in the gore of Nybur. I looked around the room slowly to see everyone on their feet staring at me. One of Nyburs group, a soldier whos name I did not know finally drew his sword, his face purpling with rage.
For this crime you will die Elf. Soldiers, kill the traitor! The last was a shout as more swords were drawn around the room, but the mans bravado faded fast as swords were pointed not at me, but him. By now I had regained composure enough to speak.
Hear me, soldiers of all stations and houses. I declare myself no more TouMaishan. With my actions I break from my house to save them my punishment. I am hereby Veldryn DaiKaMaishan, Renegade Heir. Many of you are my friends and know be to be true. But I can no longer suffer under the yoke of House Cannith. I will no longer take orders from Humans who think they are better than me because they hide behind their parents name and power. From this day forth I am a sworn enemy of House Cannith. My friends I wish you well and long life, I stopped and looked at the three House Cannith members, And my enemies, I wish that you never see me again, for if you do I will kill you. And with that I grabbed my cloak with my wand and I walked out of the barracks.
I remember being in a daze, just walking in a direction and replaying the events in the barracks in my mind. I even stopped and looked at my hands, my claws. Now that the heat of rage and battle was wearing off they were slowly changing back to my normal hands, but deep down I knew that they would return when I needed them. Then I noticed something else, the blood. It covered my arm and was splashed on my clothes; I could feel it drying on my arms, face and neck.
I looked up as I heard raised voices, I didnt notice but I had been walking towards the house of healing where Alaria stayed.
I wouldnt bother screaming, by now my brother has taken care of your only friend here. And now you are mine. It sounded like the voice of Taind, one of the older Cannith children.
Stay back, leave me alone! It was Alaria, and she sounded scared. I ran the rest of the way to the house and slammed open the door. I saw Taind pushing Alaria on the ground before the door hit the wall, startling him into looking away. I could feel the claws returning as I said, Nybur is dead Taind, as you soon shall be.
As I finished I heard Alaria say something then saw a flash of black feathers and heard cursing and a scream from Taind as Alarias raven, Loki, attack his face. Then I heard a crunching thud and Taind fell to the ground, gasping and holding his crotch as Alaria stood up, mace in hand. I couldnt help but grin at her. It seems I wont be the only one needing to leave today, you should gather your things, I will finish him. I waited until she nodded and turned before leaning down over Taind and looked into his bulging eyes as I reached to his throat with his claws. This is the second mistake today that your house has made about elves, and the cost is expensive. I couldnt help but grin at the look of horror in his eyes as I slowly closed my fist, tearing into the skin of his throat and ripping out a deep chunk. His convulsions had stopped and I had turned him over by the time Alaria returned.
I washed the blood of the Cannith sons off of myself with special holy water meant to go to the shrine in their house, assured that what I had done would not offend the gods. I had rid the world of two evil men and declared war upon a House that day, and I have yet to be punished by the gods. After I had changed Alaria and I set off into the world.
As I stated earlier, this happened two months ago. Since then we have met a Warforged also fleeing from House Cannith, a human archer and a rogue. I have gained more power and come into complete control of my claws, changing them from claws to my hands with nothing more than a moments thought. Except in the heat of battle, they always come forth during battle, hungering for more blood of my enemies. Beware scoundrels and thugs of the world and all that would see harm upon my friends. Beware the clawed Sorcerer, beware the Renegade Heir of Ranlen Maishan, The Dragon Lord.
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My name is Veldryn DaiKaMaishan. Veldryn, Renegade Heir of house Maishan, and this is my journal. I am writing this to pass on my story, how I came to be where I am now, an outcast and fugitive, how I developed the very powers that I am shunned for and my future adventures for they are sure to be many.
I feel I should start with the history of my House for it would be beyond arrogant of me to assume that any reader would know what I am writing about. Many centuries ago a Sorcerer by the name of Ranlen Maishan came to a heritage of great power, the heritage of draconic blood from which his, and all his sorcerer descendants, power derived from.
Ranlen became known as the Dragon Lord in his time and founded the house of Maishan. Unfortunatly his heritage did not pass on at full power to his Heirs, or their offspring and within a century the house was but a minor one. Soon it became in service to a more powerful house to insure its own survival. House Maishan is currently in service to House Cannith, a Dragonshard House no less. Irony seems to be everywhere in life.
I was born seventy years ago to the Lord and Lady of Maishan. I was the second son, the Spare Heir so to speak, and my name was Veldryn TouMaishan. Veldryn, Sorcerer heir of Maishan. I have been told that from the day of my birth that I was destined to become the most powerful sorcerer of Maishan in generations. At birth my skin had a dull Bronze sheen that eventually faded into a slight tan, sheen that it is said Ranlen himself was born with.
Several more entries follow detailing the childhood and early training of Veldryn before the next entry of significance.
Now, to when my trouble truly began. We were in a battle, House Cannith against some other house who I cannot even remember the name of anymore, or maybe I dont want to remember. I had been increasing in my powers and now commanded a few House Maishan troops in Canniths name. The battle was not going well, I remember my men falling to enemy arrows and spells, our own seeming less effective than that of the enemies that were falling all around us. I remember vividly watching a man I had become friends with be sliced open like a pig for gutting, I still hear his screams in my nightmares and my own screams as my magic missiles slammed into the soldier that had killed him. I remember yelling for a cleric and scrambling over to him, but he was already dead. Time seemed to slow, I could hear the calls for retreat from the Cannith Mages and Generals. I can remember seeing the Archmage himself flying away at full speed on a floating disk, the Cannith mages ordering Maishan and other houses troops and sorcerers to cover their own flight of cowardice. I witnessed my best friend be murdered by a group of four soldiers. Atril, his name was Atril Ghaolt and I couldnt save him. He was the best friend I had in the world and I was powerless to stop those beasts from putting him down like a sick dog. I used the last of my magic to avenge him, killing three of the men with my most powerful ray of fire. But I knew, and by the look I received from the last soldier their so did he, I was out of magic. I can close my eyes and remember what happened next.
He was your friend, wasnt he? the soldier said with a snarl, bringing his blade around as he took a step towards me. You have done me a great service pitiful mage. Now I shall be rewarded for the death of two sorcerous dogs myself instead of having to share the glory. The soldier sneered and raised his sword, taking one more step closer to striking me. It was then, staring death in the face and feeling the rage and shame of my friends death that I felt it. Something inside me snapped and a power awakened within me. I was told later by a soldier that he could see me, could see my eyes glow with an inner flame as my skin seemed to tan deeper before his eyes. The soldier saw it too, and he stopped his advance, startled. It was the last thing he saw, I brought up my hands and issued forth a powerful ray of flame, fueled by rage and hatred and my new found power, a ray that I should not have rightfully been able to produce. I passed out after that, falling into a heap with the smell of burning flesh in my nostrils and the sound of House Cannith Warforged warriors joining the battle, we had won the day.
I awoke three days later in a healing tent to the face of an angel. Her name was Alaria Se'Regon, she had been caring for me personally since I was discovered on the field of victory among the slain. We became fast friends that day, both having lost a few to a battle that was not our own. We met often after that day, swapping tales of past deeds and misadventures, sharing company and friendship after a profound loss. I remember the day that I introduced her to Agamemnon, my familiar. It seemed like every time we met after that she would want to see him and talk to him, fascinated by such a lively toad. She eventually asked me, and I agreed, to help her gain a familiar for herself as I had helped a younger sibling long ago, but that is a tale for another place. That was over two years ago, and we still remain close friends to this day.
The event that changed my life happened less than two months ago, after morning meal in a mage barracks on Cannith Grounds. It had been a week after a particularly hard won battle. A battle on the eve of which I was granted a special gift in recognition of my growing prowess, a ring worn by Ranlen that was said to have many special properties. But the powers of the ring have become dormant over the years without a rightful successor but I am told that the right person can unlock the mysteries and powers of the ring given time. But I digress, back to the main story. Morning meal was just finishing up when a group of Cannith mages walk into our barracks, gloating over their recent victory. Among them was Nybur, a younger son and Mage in training of House Cannith. It was said he would be the one to take over as family Archmage when his older brother moved from the position. Well, that is what they used to say. Many Maishan had fallen in this battle, most in a desperate attempt to hold a key position after some Cannith General had ordered the Warforged on a foolhardy sortie that ended in disaster. It was widely acknowledged, among the soldiers and lesser houses at least, that House Maishan was the true reason of victory that day. I have been told that with my Draconic Heritage I had also acquired the pride and rage of a Dragon, that would lead to the biggest disaster, or best blessing, of my life.
So again, Nybur and his lackeys walk into the barracks, gloating how their House and magic won Them a great victory. With deliberate movements he stopped and looked at the table I was sitting at along with other house sorcerers and magi. Then he said Without the insignificant help of, lesser, races and mages. To which his cronies laughed uproariously. I had had enough. I uttered but a single word to which they stopped laughing, Mageduel.
What was that, Elf? You think you can challenge me, A full blooded Cannith Human? Dont make me laugh. Nybur sneered and his cohorts laughed along with him.
What is the matter Human, afraid you will lose? I said standing up, I still hadnt turned around.
Why you insolent little You shall pay for your arrogance! Then it happened. Knowing that I, a battle hardened sorcerer would be more than a match for him Nybur did the only thing he could think of to guarantee himself victory. He attacked me with my back turned. I could feel the magic missiles slam into my back, forcing me onto the top of the table while his friends laughed at the Helpless Elf. I stood back up, and turned around in time to take more missiles right into my chest, but the humans had stopped laughing. I had felt it, something snap just like last time but more. This time I could feel the flames in my eyes, feel my skin go to a deeper shade of bronze and shine slightly. Nybur was scared, I could sense the fear with him as he brought his wand back for a third magic missile strike, but I was faster. I felt the power of my spell course through my body to my hand, igniting with flame as I slammed it into his belly. I felt and heard his scream of agony as the flames dissipated but my hand kept going, ripping into his stomach, eviscerating him where he stood with nothing but my hand. I closed the gap between us, stared him in the eyes and could see the flames in mine reflecting back at me as his life drained out over my arm. I could feel the blood pumping out, all over me as my hand sliced through him like he was butter to a hot knife. I wrapped my hand around his spine and whispered into his ear as he died clutching my shoulders, I bow to no one anymore. And with that, I pulled. I could feel the bone snap in my hand and begin to come out of his body before I let him fall to the ground.
I could faintly feel pain in my hands and looked at them, they had become claws. For some reason this revelation did not surprise me as I stood there covered in the gore of Nybur. I looked around the room slowly to see everyone on their feet staring at me. One of Nyburs group, a soldier whos name I did not know finally drew his sword, his face purpling with rage.
For this crime you will die Elf. Soldiers, kill the traitor! The last was a shout as more swords were drawn around the room, but the mans bravado faded fast as swords were pointed not at me, but him. By now I had regained composure enough to speak.
Hear me, soldiers of all stations and houses. I declare myself no more TouMaishan. With my actions I break from my house to save them my punishment. I am hereby Veldryn DaiKaMaishan, Renegade Heir. Many of you are my friends and know be to be true. But I can no longer suffer under the yoke of House Cannith. I will no longer take orders from Humans who think they are better than me because they hide behind their parents name and power. From this day forth I am a sworn enemy of House Cannith. My friends I wish you well and long life, I stopped and looked at the three House Cannith members, And my enemies, I wish that you never see me again, for if you do I will kill you. And with that I grabbed my cloak with my wand and I walked out of the barracks.
I remember being in a daze, just walking in a direction and replaying the events in the barracks in my mind. I even stopped and looked at my hands, my claws. Now that the heat of rage and battle was wearing off they were slowly changing back to my normal hands, but deep down I knew that they would return when I needed them. Then I noticed something else, the blood. It covered my arm and was splashed on my clothes; I could feel it drying on my arms, face and neck.
I looked up as I heard raised voices, I didnt notice but I had been walking towards the house of healing where Alaria stayed.
I wouldnt bother screaming, by now my brother has taken care of your only friend here. And now you are mine. It sounded like the voice of Taind, one of the older Cannith children.
Stay back, leave me alone! It was Alaria, and she sounded scared. I ran the rest of the way to the house and slammed open the door. I saw Taind pushing Alaria on the ground before the door hit the wall, startling him into looking away. I could feel the claws returning as I said, Nybur is dead Taind, as you soon shall be.
As I finished I heard Alaria say something then saw a flash of black feathers and heard cursing and a scream from Taind as Alarias raven, Loki, attack his face. Then I heard a crunching thud and Taind fell to the ground, gasping and holding his crotch as Alaria stood up, mace in hand. I couldnt help but grin at her. It seems I wont be the only one needing to leave today, you should gather your things, I will finish him. I waited until she nodded and turned before leaning down over Taind and looked into his bulging eyes as I reached to his throat with his claws. This is the second mistake today that your house has made about elves, and the cost is expensive. I couldnt help but grin at the look of horror in his eyes as I slowly closed my fist, tearing into the skin of his throat and ripping out a deep chunk. His convulsions had stopped and I had turned him over by the time Alaria returned.
I washed the blood of the Cannith sons off of myself with special holy water meant to go to the shrine in their house, assured that what I had done would not offend the gods. I had rid the world of two evil men and declared war upon a House that day, and I have yet to be punished by the gods. After I had changed Alaria and I set off into the world.
As I stated earlier, this happened two months ago. Since then we have met a Warforged also fleeing from House Cannith, a human archer and a rogue. I have gained more power and come into complete control of my claws, changing them from claws to my hands with nothing more than a moments thought. Except in the heat of battle, they always come forth during battle, hungering for more blood of my enemies. Beware scoundrels and thugs of the world and all that would see harm upon my friends. Beware the clawed Sorcerer, beware the Renegade Heir of Ranlen Maishan, The Dragon Lord.