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So, How about we post some of or character Backgrounds for fun.
Here are Mine
Dwarf Barbarian: Kaldrok. A former dwarven noble who got disowned by his family after they found out about his preference of men over women. His anger stems from his loss of his vast fortune. He know hw to properly track animals and prey. He hates ale and thinks of it as a commoners drink. HE will regularly insult other pathfinders(I always ask the table if it is ok In char to do it, they are always fine) But has an inflated sense self and it often gets him and his group in trouble. He is Aldoran who joined the pathfinders to get great wealth
Human Inquisitor: Martrel: A native chelaxian who specializes in ranged attacks. He is a bit slow. He worship asmodues for no other reason because it starts with the first letter of the alphabet. But is is very insightful and good with a bow. He often just sits in the back and quietly observes.
But he does have a penchant for doing stupid things. He joined the pathfinders because he embrassed a priest during a ceremony
Ifrit Gunslinger: Maria: An Ifrit who was raised by two elves since she was a month old. He mother always told her she was an elf with special fire powers. Even into adulthood she still thinks she is an elf and will pull her gun on anyone who says otherwise. Her father taught her how to work with a gun at a young age. but they kept their only child sheltered . She is a well known pathological Liar that she doesn't even know if it is the truth. The reason she joined the pathfinders is to help her parents in their retirement and to see the world. She joined the silver crusade because she thought she would earn extra silver.
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Tiefling Cleric of Iomedae: "Thomas"
In the eastern land of Tian Xia, a human family who greatly enjoyed the status afforded them by their prestigious ancestry was shocked when their firstborn child was an oni-spawn tiefling. After some discreet divinations, it was determined that the child was the manifestation of demonic heritage that had been dormant in the family's bloodline for countless generations.
While keeping the mother and child hidden at home under the pretense of being ill due to a complicated birth, the father wrestled with the prospect of losing all his social status to a tainted ancestry. Fearing he would lose everything and seeing no acceptable (in his mind) solution, he eventually resolved to kill the pit-stained child and keep the whole thing secret.
Fortunately for the young tiefling, his mother was more compassionate. Realizing her husband's intent, she fled under cover of darkness, taking her precious child with her on a desperate flight to the west. She had heard of Absalom, the City at the Center of the World, where people were diverse enough that perhaps her child would be a little less stared-at, a little less forced into constant self-defense.
And so she traveled. Sometimes walking, sometimes hitchiking, sometimes running. While her husband back home faked the death of both her and the child (thus retaining his beloved status), she trekked countless miles, sometimes staying for extended periods with generous (and open-minded) souls, sometimes sleeping on a forest floor and telling her toddler that he could go ahead and eat their only food because she wasn't hungry.
The journey was long and hard, made longer and harder by not knowing the way, or needing to recover from an illness or injury, or needing to hide from dangerously scared townsfolk. The tiefling was a teenager by the time they finally reached the Inner Sea. Unfortunately, his mother did not get to see him arrive safely at their destination. After one too many nights in the rain and too much distance between them and someone willing to house them for a while, she died unceremoniously in the wilderness. The tiefling, now nearly an adult, dug her a grave and mourned alone.
Or so he thought.
The goddess Iomedae had plans for him, and sent a startling vision to a devout paladin in Absalom: the paladin was to venture alone into the wilderness, encounter a tiefling, and bring him back with her to Absalom to be trained as a cleric! Despite warnings from her peers that this could be trickery of a demon, she followed the prompting of her vision and, upon reaching the appointed place, found not a snarling villain but a mourning teen in the process of placing a lovingly-crafted marker atop a fresh grave.
Moved by what she saw, she greeted the tiefling warmly - more warmly than anyone but his mother had ever treated him. Realizing that he could trust her (and that he had no choice, as a half-starved commoner is no match for a well-equipped paladin), he went with her back to Absalom to learn of Iomedae and the future he could have in her service.
Almost ten years later, the oni-spawn is starting to become known both inside and outside the church of Iomedae. Having assumed the name Thomas to shield his family (mostly his mother's memory) from shame, he now travels the Inner Sea as both a Pathfinder and an agent of Ollysta Zadrian's Silver Crusade. With the wisdom to differentiate between the evil and the desperate, and the strength to cut down the former and protect the latter; Thomas the Tiefling Hero spreads the holy light of Iomedae wherever he goes.
Thomas is strong and noble, willing even to throw himself in front of a blade aimed at his allies. Ever vigilant and always prepared, he strikes down evil with his goddess' favored weapon, using magic both to bolster his combat ability and to negate whatever tactics his enemies might use to confound him and his allies.
Though his life has never been easy, Thomas' biggest challenge is yet to come. There are murmurs of late; murmurs of trouble at the Worldwound. Though Thomas has faced a few demons in his career (even venturing once into hell on a rescue mission), the time is coming when he will be called upon to march against the mustered hordes at the worldwound. The danger will be great, but so is Thomas' courage and his faith that Iomedae will be guiding both his spells and his sword arm.
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"Righty" - Athelas Talimah - Arcane Trickster/Magus - I am always Righty so you stand on the Lefty and then we Flanky. Remember to Flanky. I have to tell the humans that because they often forget to Flanky.
The Marquis du Ruum is estranged from Kyonin. His parents little more than a memory of six score years hence. The babe was raised in a Taldan family both as a curiosity and potential long term asset. His magical training was mainly from the House wizard, who died after a mere 20 years. His training in classical Taldan weapons is similarly brief, a mere 30 years with a young drill instructor..who died late in life. Due to the insightful nature of a resident member of the thieves guild, Righty found his way out of the household and into the more interesting parts of Absolom. Cutting his way through the rogues of the city was part skill, part luck, and mainly from certain inquiries by a "Baron Jaquo" on his whereabouts. The Baron kept tabs on the Elf, who he met decades ago in a less than noble part of town. The intent was simple, another potential candidate for the growing Taldan influence in Absolom and in the Pathfinder Society.
Soon enough Righty was moved into place, hired to investigate and infiltrate a noble manor...the Baron was inside waiting. The final piece clicked into place Righty realized, my dear sir you've set me up...
Of course my boy, its your calling to join the Pathfinders or its jail..
Yes, but not those people. Smelly and dirty and climbing into all sorts of nasty places.
My suggestion lad, buy some perfume...maybe a gallon. keep it near the nose when things get too ripe. But join you have and go you must. At least there is good coin in the finding of the Path.
A treasure you are dear Baron. We'll have to find somewhere special to bury you. Maybe a future generation will dig you up, "for study!"
HA! But not today dear lad, and not by you. Go, the coach is waiting and you have a job to do....for Taldor. Remember us, and stay true to dear Stavian's realm.
Jail might not be so bad.... But there's no perfume available in the cells...and if there is, I don't want to be in that cell. I'm off.
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Cado Deus
Sylah’s beauty and character always afforded her constant attention, but ultimately that attraction brought about some rather destructive attention. She caught the eye of a devious scoundrel tainted with Rakshasa blood named Maahes. The sinister and cunning Maahes was intrigued by her purity and made it his personal mission to destroy that bright light within her.
Maahes disguised himself as traveling missionary who got close to Sylah by appealing to her desire to spread their “mutual” faith. All the while as Sylah and Maahes got closer and closer, he was working his charms to gain her affection. The day came she could no longer resist his machinations and a passionate affair ensued.
It wasn’t long until Sylah was with child and the conniving Maahes was no longer interested in developing a relationship. Instead he remained in the town as an independent missionary, sowing vicious rumors about Sylah. Disguised as various commoners, he began telling others that Sylah had been unfaithful to Tidus, and that she had even been seen consorting with members of demonic faiths. These rumors spread for their absurdity among the community more so than because anyone actually believed them. But even in jest the fault line of Sylah’s character had been laid. When she gave birth to a child with lanugos, elongated pupils, and highly pronounced philtrum, what was once seen as an absurdity was perceived as a scary reality for the public.
Sylah admitted to the affair with the missionary, but denied all allegations of consorting with demons or demon worshippers (this was a true statement as far as she knew). Her claims fell on deaf ears as her character was beyond repair. With quick growing unrest, it was clear that Tidus and the town intended to purge the demon child from their midst. Emotionally wrecked and feeling abandoned by her faith, she didn’t know what to do. Seeing the current travesty as her mistake and not that of the child, she fled from town in the night taking the infant Cado Deus with her.
Out on their own they were certain to die in the hostile outlands, but Maahes wouldn’t let her pain end so quickly. He sought to savor her fall as long as he could. Without her knowledge, Maahes would fend off potential aggressors before they could prey upon the new mother. His return payment would be to watch her tears for endless hours.
As Cado Deus grew, Sylah did her best to teach her bastard son all she knew, which ironically was how to comport herself around the masses. She always hoped for the day that Cado Deus could actually be accepted despite his genetic defects. Eventually the day came when Maahes grew bored of the distressed mother and left her proximity for good. It wasn’t long before she was abused and slain by brigands that stumbled upon her hiding spot, but when the brigands turned their hostilities towards the young Cado Deus they found themselves unable to advance.
In fact, they soon found themselves actually bending to the will of the young demon-blooded Cado. By means of his mother’s tongue and his father’s blood, he realized that he could assert his will over the miscreants. Knowing that he couldn’t survive out on his own but realizing that he had matured to the point that he could survive in the presence of others, he compelled the thieves to bring him to a nearby town where he could find a new life.
The more mature Cado found that free from the treacherous tale of his mother it was surprisingly easy to reintegrate into other towns. Rather than the abomination he was said to have been treated as during his infancy, his feline-esque beauty and silver tongue made him a boon of attraction rather than repulsion.
His meticulous and manipulative nature made him quite interested in both law and economics. The adult Cado fashioned himself as quite the businessman. Taking note of his acumen, the Qadiran faction came knocking. They knew they could use a man of his skills and their offers of travel and insight were most compelling. Thus a new Pathfinder was born.
During his time as a Pathfinder, Cado studied the laws of the lands in his free time. As a sort of indulgence to that passion, he even thought he would give religion another try despite the wicked role it played in his conception. He pledged himself to Abadar, the most legalistic and mercantile of the gods. This suited him quite well for a time, but Cado is currently having yet another crisis of faith. As business savvy as Abadar and his ilk may be, the drug trade and profits to be made from it are weighing heavily against Cado and his favor with Abadar.
Uriel "The Jester" Elnevel
It seemed that Uriel had a life of respect and adulation laid before him from the start, but then he learned to talk. Everything was so remarkably funny to him. From silly rituals of his home to the sacred stories of Iomedae, to the toil in which most people lived out their lives, Uriel looked upon it all as utter hilarity. What he found even funnier was how serious and angry some people became at his musings while others could be brought to his same states of elation with just a few words. Uriel never played with toys as a child, he played with people. He would push them from their comfort zone and then dance them about like his own private puppet show.
At 11 when Uriel began proclaiming himself as the bastard love child of Cayden Cailean and Zon-Kuthon, the church elders had suffered all that they were going to on account of the alabaster child. They cast him out on his own, but this was no concern for Uriel; rather his playpen was expanded. He roamed from town to town sometimes living off the wealth of others and sometimes sleeping on the streets. But no matter where he found himself Uriel was laughing all the while, after all this world and its inhabitants were all just so ridiculous.
As he grew older he realized that he had a certain supernatural knack, which empowered his antics and further separated him from the dullards he walked amongst. About that time his reputation for biting humor and alabaster skin became quite noteworthy everywhere he went. People would often refer to him as The Jester instead of his real name. The moniker seemed to pop up in every town independently, and he decided to embrace this persona. He never cared much for the traditional costume, but by applying large amounts of make up to his lips and eyes, everyone simply saw him as an irresistible clown instead of some irresponsible avatar.
As he further developed in both mind and body, he was constantly in search of new laughs and new challenges. He found that while the folly of a random person was humorous, the folly at the expense of a foe was to die for. He decided to join the Pathfinders to exploit this very thing. This ridiculous group of so-called heroes never had any shortage of adversaries to one up, and his abilities made him quite the valued recruit.
Silas Wretch
It retrospect there are worst ways to be raised. While creature comforts were light, the reading material was exquisite. I taught myself to read before I learned to speak my first language. Hell, I probably knew more about science, demons, and magic before I learned to speak than most people know in their whole lives. It didn’t really matter that the only person I had known was nothing more than a food delivery system, it isn’t like I am the type of…..person that needs coddling.
But one day when the lock turned it was not the familiar face I knew that came through the door. Instead there were three individuals who seemed quite startled to see me. Screams, throwing things, they were quite frazzled, as was I. Prior to this event the only person I had ever known acted more like a fleshy golem than something capable of emotion. I was chased out like a rat into the streets. I later came to know that my caretaker, who liked to think of herself as some sort of nobility, had passed. My three impromptu aggressors had come to lay claim on their share of her Vira. Of course I was not surprised my name didn't make it onto the will. Even after I found out her name I didn't draw the connection that it should be my own, but I am getting ahead of myself.
The people I met on the streets were not very accepting. I didn’t look like them; I looked more like the things they try to control. While I couldn’t depend on their good nature, I did learn to depend on their stupidity and carelessness. I found myself stealing things from them that I needed. I took both their food and their words. I learned my first two oral languages by eavesdropping alone.
Living on the street, it was a bit harder for me to get my hands on a steady supply of books. So in the interim, I decided to read anatomy. I dissected anything I could get my hands on. It was during one of my exploratory sessions that I was discovered by a rich traveler named Yahem Yalan. His disposition towards me was one of fascination and not horror. He was made inquisitive by my inquisitiveness. After I told him what I was doing, he asked my name. Occasionally I had been called Silas in my home and repeatedly I had been called Wretch in the streets. Apparently how names are given was not one of the tidbits of information I had picked up along the way, so I answered with what I thought best at the time “Silas Wretch”. By the time I knew better I thought the whole thing quite humorous and decided that I would keep the name.
Back to the matter at hand, Yahem was a very decent man although very peculiar by most peoples' standards. That probably worked out in my favor. He ended up taking me from my home in Westcrown to his home in Sothis. He taught me to dress like a leper and people would treat me a bit better not knowing what I was, but his real gift to me was his lab. Books and chemicals and test subjects were abundant. I learned much over the next few decades, I was working at three times the pace I was in my first library. I couldn’t have been more euphoric for a very long time.
But eventually something started to itch with me. I realized that there were still limits in my new home as well. If some merchant, traveler, scientist could amass this many resources, just imagine what I could amass gathering the knowledge of kings, emperors, and pharaohs. The Osirian Faction of the Pathfinder Society helps direct me to the greatest of secrets.
Czernobog Vreniss
By earning a name for himself with scholastic achievements, he managed to secure personal passage into the tomb of the pharaoh Czernobog Al’ Akkara for academic purposes. While he was very clearly instructed not to remove anything from the tomb or damage any of the artifacts, he saw this as no reason to forego the chance to see the inner workings of what some people once considered a god.
Upon opening the chest cavity of the pharaoh, he was stunned to see a strange reptile that appeared to be living inside. Its eyes were a deep, piercing red that made Treant’s entire body feel very stiff and very heavy. Without moving, it was almost as if the weight of his own limbs felt so great that they were collapsing his entire body into the ground and itself.
He immerged from the tomb hours later carrying the reptile he calls Ezzit. Immediately one of the guards addressed him, reminding Treant of the instruction to remove nothing from the tomb. Treant stared directly into the guards eyes and replied. “Czernobog Vreniss has made no such agreement. It would serve you well to forget what you have seen here.”
Treant, who stopped answering to that name, was said to go through a series of progressive changes so that most of his former peers scarcely recognized him. One of which was his transition from academia, to the much more visceral, Pathfinder Society.
Lorenzo Talcotta
At one time there was a claim by now deceased people about missing documents that point to what some think is the most likely truth of Lorenzo’s history. Allegedly, Lorenzo was born to an Andoran slave woman and both were exchanged as consideration on a bet at the Histoqen in Katheer. After the race, both Lorenzo and his mother became property of a Qadiran noble named Alhem Alhazar.
Alhem, while quite prudent in matters of acquiring wealth, was quite decadent with his funds for a Qadiran. He was prone to hosting massive balls and masked soirees where nobles could anonymously indulge themselves, oftentimes at the expense of the slaves.
One of the repeat visitors, a man in an ivory plague doctor’s mask, became quite fond of the young Lorenzo and very quickly became quite attached the lad. As both a show of appreciation and mentorship, he offered to help Lorenzo rise from his lowly station. The man in Ivory drew up documents and had them falsely notarized to state that Lorenzo’s mother was a concubine to Alhem, and Lorenzo was their son.
Very shortly after the documents were in place, Alhem mysteriously died in his sleep. According to Qadiran law, Lorenzo was inheritor of both his property and title. Lorenzo then liquidated his “father’s” assets and the paper trail quickly disappeared.
This story is as much hearsay as any other, but from this point the tales diverge even more greatly. One murmur that perhaps crops up slightly more than others among the most trusted of spies include tales of the Reaper of Reputation.
