Here's the original background I wrote for my current character (CG halfling rogue). It was slightly modified on-the-fly due to setting changes I wasn't aware of when I wrote it, but I'm still happy with how the original turned out. It may help the reader to know that at the beginning of this campaign, all of the PC's in the party started as slaves in a mine. Enjoy!
Life in the salt mines is like many of the miners themselves: nasty, brutish, and short. If you were to take a walk through the tunnels (not that you would), you’d see some of the worst living conditions imaginable. And yet, somehow, in spite of everything, some people find a way to go on living…
Faron Reedbottom, a 28 year old halfling, has been a slave in the Barosian salt mine since he was taken there at the age of 11. As with many of the shockingly young slave population, he was brought to the mine when his parents died in the last Goblin War. Life expectancy in the mines being what it is, there aren't many surviving members of that first group; sometimes one of the more thoughtful newer arrivals will ask Faron how to survive in this place. His answer? "Be invisible. Don't get anyone's attention."
As you make your way through the work tunnels, it’s apparent that the mine is running short-handed. Most work crews have multiple children working alongside the grizzled miners. Halfling and gnome slaves carry baskets of material broken out of the walls by the stronger miners. Miners heading back from their shift look nearly dead from exhaustion; the ones starting their shift look little better.
Halflings don’t, as a rule, make good miners. They tend to lack the sheer physical strength necessary. Still, the overseers do find uses for them. When an explosive needs to be set in a crevice too small for a human, or when a lever breaks inside the workings of a mining engine, it’s often a halfling sent in. Early in his time in the mine, the overseers in charge of such projects took note of Faron’s apparently innate cleverness with mechanisms and called for him as a matter of preference. Though ownership of property by slaves is obviously forbidden, a thorough search of Faron’s person would typically reveal several oddly-shaped fragments of metal. If asked, he’d say that they were broken pieces of machinery he’d repaired. If asked why he kept them, he’d shrug and say, “I don’t know, they were pretty?"
As you continue through the mine, you pass into the barracks tunnels. Here the slaves eke out a meager existence during the rest periods between shifts. Children run through the warren, pushing between the legs of the adults. As you walk, you suddenly feel as though you’re being watched. You glance around, but this area of the mine is too crowded to pick out any watchers. You do notice a small tunnel that only young miners seem to enter. You make your way over to it, and duck into the entrance. This tunnel is empty, and you wonder where-
*WHAM*
The breath is driven from your body as you fall to the floor. You glance down at your traitorous legs and see that your boots are inexplicably tied together. When you look back up, you see the small face of a halfling crouching at your head. “I seem to have a little problem-” you begin to say, but he interrupts. “Short jokes? Really?” Your attention focuses on a wickedly curved strip of metal that the halfling is idly toying with. It looks as though it could make short wor- ah, that is, it looks like it could do some serious damage. He continues: “This tunnel leads to the orphans’ wing. The mine exit is the other direction. You wouldn’t want to get lost down here… Have a nice day.” He reaches down to pick up a sack that’s nearly as big as him. For just a second, the top falls open and you can see what looks to be food - the fresh stuff, not anything you’d expect to find in a slave quarters. Whistling tunelessly, the halfling turns and goes on his way.