Pathfinder Character Backstory


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share your character backstorys.

here's mine it is for a cat folk ranger or hunter

rased in a small villige on the edge of a forest. there is a group of traders who come to that villege to trade one day they attack the villige and steal a treasue my character hids in the forest after words returns to his villege and finds in in flames every one is dead and he sweres revenge.


Dwarf raised in a mining community never thought much about her future though she often caught glimpses of what others are thinking and feeling. Her mother said she was 'touched' by the old ones. Nothing much comes about until one day when she is mining a tunnel she swears she can see something trapped behind the rocks. She hammers away trying to get a better glimpse of what is back there until she sees... an eye... looking back at her.

She wakes up to find herself being cast out of the mountain. The other dwarves accusing her of collapsing the tunnel and killing dozens of her fellow miners. She cannot recall anything but hears whispering inside her mind... not the occasional glimpses into the thoughts of others but a never ending stream of dark and malevolent whispers driving her mad.


A young Rahadoumi woman with chaos in her blood decides to rebel against her parents by leaving home at night to join the Pure Legion. It is during this military service that she does a remarkable amount of growing up by seeing exactly what her chaotic nature does to her friends and companions. Now she is stuck in the wilderness, her squadmates dead thanks to her carelessness, and she must find a way to atone for her actions and come to terms with her own nature.

A mwangi tribesman discovers his Ifrit ancestry and secretly develops his powers as a sorcerer. When it is time for him to take a walkabout to come of age, he takes a violent journey around the lands, bringing war and destruction to several rival tribes. Upon his return home, the elders are shocked and exile him from the tribe. Now he roams the land in search of a proper challenge for him to test his newfound powers.


Freya was born to a small Halfling family in the metropolis of Almas. Her parents had emigrated to Androan to escape slavery and build a better life for themselves. The name Solheim was picked after the captain who brought them safely to their new home when she could have just as easily sold them elsewhere. Her parents found work at an orphanage where they raised Freya along with many children of many races. Life was happy and more or less uneventful for Freya until she was 16.

It was then a few men in fanciful robes walked through the slums of Almas looking for teenagers of magical talent. When Freya passed their test, the wizards pressured her parents to get her to attend the Almas Academy (Home of the Fightin' Eagles!) Her family was sorry to see her go but thought it was the best chance she had of having a better life. Freya came home for every holiday and wrote to them often so they were never truly apart from each other.

Freya did poorly in most of her classes, except evocation, despite her obvious intellect. She found the classes too dry and focused on endless repetition. There was little deviation from the standard. Most wizards would point out that this is because the spells learned are carefully researched to work every time without disintegrating the caster. Deviating is critical for spell research but Freya was too inexperienced for the teachers to allow her to go too far out of the norm.

This did little to deter Freya. Her natural Halfling fearlessness and optimistic attitude lead her to find a new path on her own. She found books detailing an obscurer path to magical power: the Arcanist. With her innate power and love of change, she took and mastered this new path quicker than she ever did for any of her classes. She was able to graduate with this new power but she didn't receive any honors or recommendations usually afforded to graduates. For her part, Freya thumbed her nose at the teachers and focused on maintaining friendship with her fellow classmates. Perhaps the teachers would have liked her better if she hadn't spiked their coffee with whiskey, Breezed up the robes of her Transmuter professor, or used Stumble Gap to trip up her Necromancy (her least favorite subject) teacher and cause her to fall on her face.

Freya did not get away scot-free of course. The teachers had numerous punishments to try to cow Freya into being a more diligent student. Most commonly they have her copy books in the library but she didn't mind that one as much because she snuck in smut with magical ink only visible to those with the right spell. They eventually figured out that she didn't mind that particular punishment (mostly from the giggles) even if they didn't know why. So they moved to other disciplinary measures. Things like doing the laundry for her dorm without the aid of magic and cleaning up after familiars. More severe were punishments involving gathering material components. She gathered bat guano for Fireballs, sweat for Ray of Exhaustion, and rotten food for Stinking Cloud.

Her time at the university was still some of the best in her life. Though classes were dull and the teachers generally unsympathetic, her fellow students more than made up for it. Her non-threatening appearance and jovial personality gained many friends and more than a few lovers. The university was split along school lines. Though there were no rules against fraternization between different specialists, rooming, classes, and many extracurriculars were determined based on what school you preferred. Freya was an Evoker all the way even if she had some flair for conjuration (mostly at opening up pits for people to fall into.) She was known as the life of the party among her fellow Evokers who were already considered to be the wildest Wizards.

When school was done, she decided to explore her self-taught path in the larger world and perhaps gain more knowledge of other practitioners. She joined a small mercenary band based in Andoran called Heaven's Favored. Led by Callum, an Angelkin oracle renowned for his strategic planning and personal charm, they fought slavers and bandits often only getting paid in home-cooked meals and favors down the line.

The main group had 4 other members. The first was a powerful warrior named Deirdre. She was famous in her own right. When a man killed her husband in a duel, she took up his claymore and challenged her husband's murderer then and there. She sliced his head clean off with one powerful swing. Then there was Geoffrey Chéron, a mysterious man who claimed that he was the rightful ruler of Absalom. Unbeknownst (but easily beguessed) to Freya, he was just a common criminal from Galt seeking to escape the Gray Gardeners after they murdered his politically active husband. The group's scout was Adelyn, a quiet Half-Elf girl from Andoran's countryside. She became a talented scout and hunter after forming a bond with a Stag she named Rory. But Freya's favorite companion was Niels Samter, a travelling Halfling minstrel seeking a story worth composing. He and Freya dallied more than once in their travels.

The Heaven's Favored Mercenaries couldn't stay so fortunate forever sadly. Tragedy struck on what seemed like just another raid on a Chelish slave-trading caravan. The caravan rolled slowly through a thick forest giving Heaven's Favored a perfect chance to ambush them. The caravan guards were hardly putting up a fight when suddenly a cold mist sprang in the area. The sounds of battle died out replaced only by confusion. Then her companions began to fall asleep one by one. Freya was attempting to wake Deirdre when she heard the sound of hooves. Rory had managed to get a sleeping Adelyn on his back and galloped away. The mist moved to follow the stag and left the field clear. When it did she saw that all of the caravan guards and slaves were dead with their throats cut out. More peculiar was the fact that her companions were all gone even Deirdre. Some man or creature had managed to take her from right under Freya's nose while she was distracted.

She did not know that it was a Cold Rider and some Quickling henchmen that accomplished the grim deeds that day. She only knows that her five closest friends were gone without a trace. Even Adelyn's whereabouts are unknown to her as Freya was unable to follow her friend. She devastated beyond anything she could have imagined. All she could think to do was to spend two weeks at the site of the battle to bury the dead and search for any kind of clue. She wrote down everything she remembered and everything she found but it gave her nothing.

She gave what help she could to what little remained of Heaven's Favored but the company was still reeling from losing its leader and best warriors. It would take months or even years to gather enough strength to mount a search party. Freya decided that she needed to search for answers on her own and to gain more magical power. The next time the mist reappears, she wants to know exactly what's in it and be strong enough to blast it apart with the raw fury of the elements. Her best plan to acquire this knowledge and power is to find another group to journey with on her travels. This next group will find a powerful mage and a fast friend in Freya Solheim.

Too much?


What's in the box? wrote:

Dwarf raised in a mining community never thought much about her future though she often caught glimpses of what others are thinking and feeling. Her mother said she was 'touched' by the old ones. Nothing much comes about until one day when she is mining a tunnel she swears she can see something trapped behind the rocks. She hammers away trying to get a better glimpse of what is back there until she sees... an eye... looking back at her.

She wakes up to find herself being cast out of the mountain. The other dwarves accusing her of collapsing the tunnel and killing dozens of her fellow miners. She cannot recall anything but hears whispering inside her mind... not the occasional glimpses into the thoughts of others but a never ending stream of dark and malevolent whispers driving her mad.

Is this for a PC? It sounds like a very interesting character put into a rough spot. What class is she?


This is my dwarflock for our new DnD 5th campaign. So- Dwarf Warlock.

She basically is an insane character until she puts her madness onto other people and then she has clarity for a brief period of time. I liked the idea of the Warlock being influenced by the Old Ones (which was new as opposed to- Fey and Fiend- which are cool, but feel more prototypical).

And who doesn't want to play a gibbering psychotic dwarf? :)

Liberty's Edge

My favorite character I've ever played is Rosalie Merikreel. Her friends, however, call her Tharja.

Tharja had a normal happy childhood up until her parents were murdered by the Technic League when she was four. Thanks to my friend basically making his part of our game world an autocratically-run hellhole, Tharja wound up going through the orphanage system.

It wasn't a nice happy orphanarium. This was a messed up cross between the prison from The Shawshank Redemption and the fighting nights from Fight Club. Tharja held her own as she got older, and started developing a fighting style that focused on hitting someone once as hard as she possibly could. (The orphanage keepers didn't like that, because Glass Joe-ing every fight doesn't look good.) She wound up leaving the orphanage at the age of 19 because, quite frankly, Tharja scared the living s!*! out of the other orphans/pugilists. Six months after she left Pellaos's most hellhole orphanage, she met up with her fellow adventurers Jagg, Mira, Sakit, and Murphy.

As to why she's called Tharja instead of Rosalie, people in Pellaos go by a nickname rather than her given name. Tharja's came from a mountain in Pellaos that one of her fellow orphans said was like her: "Beautiful, but difficult to climb." (Tharja beat him into a coma. He apologized a fortnight later once he woke up.)

I actually said Tharja looked like Makoto Kino from Sailor Moon once, so I don't know why everyone in the group thinks she looks masculine. Must be that 7 Charisma she's got.

Dark Archive

The Gods can be Horrible...
This is what Patricia through almost all of her life. Born with a severe form of Down syndrome she was shunned by her birth parents and force to live in a Cheliax orphanage where she was treated less than human whiled forced the hardest working conditions and that was pity from the head mistress. Only after the head mistress died she was going to be forced into indentured servitude to a brothel for the crime of possibly becoming a burden on society. During her slavery her masters grew angrier with her ability not to listen to commands. She found this to be due to loosing her hearing, but this curse was not without its rewards and revelations. Soon she found many revelations, powers & spells to fight off her captors and the law protecting them. She uses these powers and spells like Sotto Voce, Transcendental Bond, Disguise self to hide her true self from an unforgiving world ( foes and allies) almost as much to fight for survival.

Liberty's Edge

PFS Character...

"Oh, hi there." A Gnome approaches, riding a pet dog as he smiles at you. "Venture Captain Lemtwist Bratham Mallentwine Flannelfoot Smyth Olgen Jeebs Nathers Bingham the Third, here. Pleased to meet you!"

*inevitable question asked*

"Oh, why the Third? Well, my title of Venture Captain aside, I have had the same name since I was born." He waves his hand in the air. "I know, I know, most gnomes aquire their name as they go through life's adventure, but I had mine because of my grandfather... or what may end up being my grandson..." He sighs...

"You see, Lemtwist Bratham Mallentwine Flannetfoot Smyth Olgen Jeebs Nathers Bingham Senior was, is, or will be a Time Mage. But he isn't, wasn't, or will not be very good at it.

"All I know is that ten years ago, there was this magical... 'incident.' All that was left of my... relation was a single finger. The last words he said was "No, no... wait, don't touch tha..." It was a very somber funneral, with a very tiny casket."

He scratches Danger's ears for a moment. "I see Lemtwist Bratham Mallentwine Flannelfoot Smyth Olgen Jeebs Nathers Senior every once and a while. We try to figure out when we are."


Octavian Voralius
Chaotic Good Ifrit Diviner (formally wizard now arcanist) aged 90.
Traits:
Quantuim graduate
Seeker
Mutant eye
Drawback:
Hedonist

Father: Unknown Efreet

Mother: Quinta Voralius (Human Chelaxian wizard)

A wizard from a fallen noble house of Cheliax, Quinta travelled to Nex to study extra dimensional magics. These endeavours resulted in her four geniekin children. It is unknown if she is still alive as she disappeared shortly after the birth of Octavian on a planar excursion after which the children were raised in comfort by priests of Nethys.

Siblings:

Drulia (100 y.o Sylph djinni bloodline sorceress)
Whereabouts unknown.

Petronicus ( 100 y.o Oread elemental earth Bloodrager)
Wherever his twin sister is.

Boudra (95 y.o Undine Sea Witch with water patron)
Whereabouts unknown though she likes to stay near large bodies of water.

(At times I’ll make reference to letters from his siblings to help explain why he has knowledge about places he’s never been)

The youngest of four children and without the innate powerful magical abilities of the twins Druila and Petronicus or the mysterious otherworldly connections of Boudra, Octavian jumped at the opportunity to receive a bursary to study magic though it was required that he specialise in divination. His choice of necromancy as an opposition school was simple enough given Nex’s history with Geb and as one who loves his personal freedom coupled unpleasant experience at the hands of an enchanter it was natural that enchantment would be his second choice. It was his experience of enchantment magic that lead him to develop empathy for those whose freedoms have been diminished and a hatred for the enslavement of others.

Practically born with itchy feet Octavian was eager to travel and see the world upon graduation. To do so he took work guarding caravans and other travellers, work which he excelled at with his divinatory talents enabling him to detect and react to threats before they occurred. It was during his travels that he found faith in Desna though he still possesses respect and reverence for Nethys.

Though a traveller Octavian loves his creature comforts and is an inveterate hedonist, unable to go for more than a day without some sort of pleasure seeking. For whatever reason he was born with a mutant third eye on his forehead, some people find this unnerving though he celebrates as a unique feature and promotes as a sign of his superior skill in divination magic. Despite his hedonistic tendencies he is not selfish and will try to help those in need, particularly those being oppressed by others.

As a caravan guard Octavian accrued substantial wealth however he left this line of work after killing an employer who was using the guise of a merchant to arrange his dealings in the slave trade with a particular interest in purchasing only the most beautiful children. However the slave trader had powerful patrons and Octavian was forced into the life of an ‘adventurer’ (smuggler/pirate) under Captain Tyeri (PC catfolk swashbuckler and former slave) of the Runaway Mwangi. They would later be joined by Sir Percival, (PC human gunslinger) recovering drunk/gambler who joined the crew to pay off a gambling debt of an unknown amount, Finnegan (ratfolk spellthief conversion) a down on his luck merchant who seeks to move illicit goods and establish new trade contracts, his mercantile skill proving invaluable in dealing with authorities, Mao (PC Azlanti human oracle) a mysterious woman awoken from magical stasis by Finnegan she now accompanies him wherever he goes and Father Jägermeister (PC warpriest) a deceptive ‘priest’ of an unknown (to the party) god (Norgorber) and passenger on the Runway Mwangi.


Zola Mitefellow
Gnomish Traveling Circus Dancer

Being born a Changeling, Zola has no past with her father nor her hag mother. A band of traveling gnomes running the Shortcloak & Mitefellow circus in Garund took her in when they had found a basket with the fair baby, no more than a week old outside the ringmaster's tent.
The gnomes raised her no different than any other gnome, and in fact she wasn't aware she was a different race until she started to grow taller than the tallest of the gnomes. Being raised exactly as a gnome child would in a gnome society, she carries many of gnome ambitions and values. She is very impulsive, loves trickery, and doesn't care too much of the opinions of non-gnome beings.
As she began to grow older, though still very young to a gnome, she found joy in training and dealing with the animals the circus had possessed. However, an older Varisian Gnome Magus, Kevven Strifelaugher, began seeing innate magical abilities within Zola. He took her under his wing and began teaching her the ways of the Varisian Kapenia dancers.
Starting the training when she was 15, Kevven tried to imbue her with as much knowledge as he could. It was also around his time that Zola began receiving haunting dreams many of the nights she slept. This began fatiguing her mentally, spiritually, and magically. Her training as a Kapenia Dancer with Kevven plateaued. As the years gained on her, the dreams became more vivid and haunting. Showing images of a creature draped in dripping, rotting rags beckoning to Zola. Some nights go without alarm, while others claw at her subconscious.
Not knowing what else to do about these nightmares, as well as seeking more training in the ways of Kapenia Dancing, Zola said farewell to her family in Shortcloak & Mitefellow and ferried across the sea to Varisia. Soon after arriving, she figured she could hopefully find some guidance within the ranks of the Pathfinder Society.

Zola Mitefellow has embarked on a journey for spiritual guidance, refined training, and hopefully to find something to pique her curiosity.


Puppy -Gnoll Barbarian

Gaedren Lamm had thought he was buying a ready made attack dog to keep his Little Lamm's in check, what he got though was frightened puppy that was scared of nearly everything after being separated from his mother and sold right after his weaning.

Even though he endured beating after beating, Gaedren couldn't make him hurt the other children, but when he finally did snap he instead took a bite out of Gaedren himself.

He was then beaten nearly to death, and as far as Gaedren was concerned beaten to death and disposed of on a Korvosan trash barge. He only survived because a blind half orc garbage collector took him in together they sifted refuse for food, and clothing.

Despite smelling like garbage and having almost everyone but other garbage collectors hate him for just being a gnoll, he grew strong and able to defend himself.

When a harrow card and an address fell into his hands he was happy to help this stranger get some well deserved justice.


Gwystyl "Ghost" Linden: Changeling (Eberron) Rogue

Gwystyl was born to a well to do father who already had six children from his recently deceased wife. Gwystyl, however, was born to the recently acquired serving maid. On top of being of illegitimate birth, it was clear as he was born with chalky white skin and whisps of white hair that his mother was actually a Changeling as well, and she had simply hoped her child would take after his father. She slipped away in the night, leaving the elder Linden to raise this very special child.

Gwystyl was doted on by his father, Oskar, as he was now almost fully retired from running the family orchard business. He learned to control his appearance rather young, but affectionately Oskar called Gwystyl his "wee Ghostie"... and because he was naturally soft spoken and quiet, the nickname of "Ghost" stuck.

Without any of his own kind about, Ghost had to learn about the Changeling people from books and stories - and found they did not paint them in a very flattering light. He decided that he would not be like those stories. He would be honest to a fault, loyal, and noble of character. While he recognized he had talents that would make him an excellent thief, Ghost decided that he would use them instead to counter the actions of those who were treacherous and dishonest.

In his 16th year, the elder Oskar Linden had a stroke, and died within days. His half-siblings, who only ever tolerated young Gwystyl, told him almost immediately he was no longer welcome in their home. Ghost took his bow (a gift from his father, from days they spent out in the forests hunting) and decided to prove his worth to the world.

To Ghost, the person that he is as a Changeling is not "him". He found several pictures of his father growing up in the house, and has molded his appearance to resemble his father at a young age to honor the kind and gentle hearted man that raised him. Not even his childhood friends know the truth of his nature, and privately he worries at all times how he might be shunned and cast away if the truth was known.


"You ask where I come from? It's not a particularly harrowing tale if you ask me. But I can humor you for a while I suppose.

My mother was a housemaid and my father was a pit fighter. Explains the ugly mug, I know. Doesn't matter where, that city's been long since destroyed. But I'm getting ahead of myself. As I said, pit fighter and housekeeper. At the beckoning of their shared owner. Not a lot of love between the two, but no hate either. They did what they had to and then moved on with their duties. Got an older brother with the same father. Younger sister though, she came from the old fart's new champion after my father got eaten by a owlbear. Or maybe it was a hydra. Damn, it's been so long now.

Anyway, the whole damn city was corrupt. Least down in the slave pits everything was out in the open far as who was gonna stab who in the back. Heh, we actually were pretty tight-knit down there. Had to look out for each other, nobody else would. Actually got a pretty good education from the other orcs, at least in orcish culture. It was almost like being in a proper clan. Those goblin jerks can shove it though. Always travelling in packs so they can gang up on anyone caught by themselves.

Anyways, at one point this group of adventurers comes storming through. Just runs rampage through the city guard, cuts off and cuts down each of the worst nobles before they can escape. Frees all the slaves and gladiators even. We could've possibly just moved right in where the humans got kicked out if the whole place hadn't been darn near leveled in the fighting. I think the mage of the group was a bit overeager to use an earthquake spell.

Fortunately, those adventurers helped those of us that wanted it to get to Abaslom. The 4 of us went with em, but each of us took a shine to a different path once there. Mum went back to bein a maid, it's all she knew really. Least now she was on payroll. Older bro joined up with a paladin order. I could never get why, too stuffy for my taste. Sis started hanging around with the Pharasmans, I think the carnage got to her a bit. As for myself, well I obviously took a liking to the freedom and wandering that Desna promises. Things I didn't have growing up in the pits.

But I wasn't pious or preachy enough to be a cleric. Too much bloodlust in me. I was afraid I was going to fail Her as a worshiper until she sent me a dream with my instructions. And so I became Her inquisitor, and joined the Pathfinder Society. Because if anyone gets in to the darkest cracks of the world, it's them.

And that, is the beginning."
-Interview with Kraaj, alias Gorak The Destroyer, inquisitor of Desna

Dark Archive

happy to see people are writing


Arim the Arcanist: Born in a small farming community. His father, a respected man, best crossbow shoot ever known. He was just but hard on his sons.
Arim, unlike his bigger brother, was a weak boy. He wasn't fit for field work, not fit for woodcutting and not guard service either. The cows' milk turned sour when he milked them, the villagers said that he stresses the animals, makes them uncomfortable. He couldn't ride either, the horses got nervous when he was on their backs. He would have been a great disappointment if it wasn't for his mother's and father's sympathy and worry for the boy, the rest of their children where fine. But he was a good reader and with detail work.

One day, Arim's father took him out to learn him how to shoot a crossbow. He was too weak to lift and swing an axe, but a small crossbow? But his father proved his skill much too real this time. He shot one bolt and a few seconds later, it returned from the other side of the world to hit him in the back of his head. However, this is not the entire truth, but only one alive knows of it. Namely the one who avenged Arim's father. But that's another story.

Gravely wounded, his father laid in bed with his mother by his side to take care of him, as his body was paralyzed. It wasn't long untill Arims father died. Short after that his mother, of grief. And Arim could do nothing but weep.

Times got harder. Arim's bigger brother was the head in their farm, trying to pull the workload of his parents and his own to keep his younger siblings alive. They had to sell the horses and cows, keeping only the sheep.

They got by with what they could do, untill bandits came to the area. It ended with their farm burned down, the oldest sister killed, the youngest kidnaped. His brother couldn't take it any more. And so Arim was the only one left, and all he could do, was weep. There was no place for him where he had always belonged, so he had to find a new life.

But the once peaceful roads where no longer safe with the bandits about. Had it not been for Orlan, an old half orc warrior fond of singing, women and beer, he would not have made it far.

Orlan was a knowledgeable man and it was thru him that Arim found his hidden talant. No more was Arim the weak, uggly, weeping boy. He was now a being of power, someone who can change the world for the better. Not with swords and axes. But with intellect and fire.

Shadow Lodge

Oliver's earliest memories are running around a city streets ( Magnimar) with other street kids. He was always getting into trouble with the older kids because he would stand up to them and defend the smaller kids against the bigger kids. Some of the city guardsmen would look out for the kids when it didn't interfere with doing their jobs. One of guardsmen, named Harry Dresden Talbott, treated Oliver like a younger brother. One day Harry found Oliver all beat to s&!!. Harry told Oliver that if he kept defying the older kids he'd end up dead, so he suggested to Oliver that he take him to his uncles farm outside Sandpoint. After Harry promised to take care of the younger street kids Oliver agreed to go the farm. Oliver was about 8 years old at this time.

Abraham Lincoln Talbott agreed to take in Oliver if he worked hard and stayed out of trouble. So Oliver came to live and work at the Talbott farm a half days ride east of Sandpoint. The Talbotts would travel to Sandpoint twice a month to sell produce and buy what they'd need for the farm. During one of the visits to Sandpoint Oliver meet a young RatFolk kid named Rinzler Rackus and over the years they became good friends. A couple times a month 'Rin' would show up at the farm and either help with the farm work or the two of them would go off exploring the area surrounding the farm.

Oliver is acquainted with one of the more exotic frequent visitors to Sandpoint, an Oread named (oread). He/she has been coming to Sandpoint for as long as Oliver been coming to Sandpoint. He/she likes to hunt giants which Oliver likes as well.

Around the time Oliver was about 16 the outlaying farms were seeing more frequent and larger raids from the goblins of the area as well as more sighting of giants and rumor of giant raids on caravans. Oliver informed Abraham that he was going to Sandpoint to try and learn combat skills so he could better protect the people he's come to think of as his family. While not liking it, Abraham understood why Oliver was leaving and told him he would always be welcome.

So Oliver made his way to Sandpoint, where a few days later, he meet and convinced the Lore Warden Hieronymus Thislewaite, an adventurer making his way through Varisia, to train him. A year later Hieronymus has moved on and the young newly minted Lore Warden Oliver is ready for adventure and to help protect the people of Sandpoint and the surrounding areas. Or so he hopes.

Who are you? (General physical description) Human, Male, 6' Tall, 178lbs. Brown Hair and Green Eyes. Has rugged good looks. His skin is a lighter olive color then a pure blood varisian. He is about 17 years old.
What are you wearing? (Assuming armored) Oliver is wearing a standard traveler's outfit under studded leather armor.
What weapons are you wielding? (Assuming armed) Oliver has a Falcata slung at his back, 3 chakram and a dagger hanging from his belt on his right side and a light mace on his left side.
What is a noticeable feature or quirk that identifies you? Except for having above average physical good looks and wielding an exotic weapon, there is nothing quirky or noticeable about him.
Why are you in Sandpoint? Oliver is in Sandpoint to try and form or join a group to explore the surrounding areas and try and put a stop or at least curb the raids in the area.
How long have you been in Sandpoint? Oliver has live in and around Sandpoint for going on 9 years.
What have you been doing with your time since you arrived in Sandpoint? When not attempting to gather info (no diplomacy skill) on troubles in the area, he spends his time with Rinzler Rackus which can mean just mucking out the stables of the Rusty Dragon Inn.
What story about yourself have you told your friends? Oliver has told his friends about how he had nothing when he was little when someone helped him by giving him a home and a stable-ish life while he grow up.
What is the name of your favorite ale? Two Knight Pale Ale.
If you don’t get work/money soon what is your next move? If time get so bad, money wise, Oliver could always spend some time at the Talbott farm.

This was my attempt for our RotRL game....to bad this character died in the goblin attack on festival/dedication night, third goblin wave.

Had some really terrible rolls durng that combat.


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.


I´ll just take the BG for my current Legacy of Fire Character.

Name: Agna Helgasdottir.
Race: Dwarf.

Agna Helgasdottir was born and raised in Janderhoff, the varisianese dwarven sky citadel, situated just north of Korvosa. Daughter of Helga Aegismaker the forgemistress of the Embermoss caverns, and Rory Redbeard, the keeper of the alehall of Brombol, Agna enjoyed status, wealth, a safe environment, and soul crushing expectations, piled on by her extended family, as well as her own parents. And although she knew how to courtesy and smile politely, as the years went on, and the future, with all its responsibilities and 10.000 things that had to be done ´for the sake of the family´ started approaching at an unwelcome speed, and she found herself repressing more and more panic with every social gathering, be it friendly visits, family get-togethers, or merely conversations at the evening dinner-table.

Deliverance arrived, in the shape of Thryemer, a friend of the family, who returned to Janderhoff after 11 years of travel one glorious day. As an avid traveller of the topside world, a gatherer of hogwash literature and a member of some association of topsiders called The Pathfinder Society, Thryemer provided a pleasant distraction, as everyone who had ever leveled an expectation on her scrambled to speak with Thryemer, or decry him as a madman who should be kicked out of the halls before his madness could spread. The last ones may have had it right because his madness did spread, oh boy did it ever. Tales of the infinite stretches of grasslands, mighty forests with living tree, centuries old and still growing, of the endless blue of the ocean and sky, and the sometimes headache-inducing, but never boring, ever-changing cultures of the topsiders, filled a certain young head with such wonder, such hope for an escape, that she mustered all her courage, and asked for just that. Thryemer must indeed have been mad, because just like that, he accepted. There was no delay, no seeking permission, not a mention of responsibility or what was owed the family. Only a broad smile, a slap on the back and a grunt of approval.

Of all the wonders she beheld in following years, none stole the breath from right out of her lungs, as much as the city of Absalom. The greatest city that ever was or will be, they said, and Agna believed them. It was here that she met with her first venture captain, a man from the grand lodge of the so-called pathfinders, who accepted her into their organization as a trainee. It was a hard couple of years, filled with physical exercise, reading and not an insignificant bit of travelling around the isle of Korthos. In the end, she wound up acing her physical tests, and although there was still work to do on the whole ´appreciation for story´ front, she was deemed to have the right stuff, and the capabilities to work as a newly hatched journeyman pathfinder. The boat left the following week, carrying her across the inner sea, - to the continent called Garund, to the country of Katapesh, into the employee of a man called Garavel, and onward towards the town of Kelmarane.


Lynn had a complicated childhood...

Born Lynn Waymeet to a barmaid and an adventuring ranger after a romantic fling. She was raised mostly by her mother Kara with some help from others in the village. Probably destined to become a barmaid herself when tragedy struck while she was still very young. The war with the elves had taken a turn for the worst and the cruel elves captured her small trading village. Her mother and numerous other villagers were taken away as slaves. A heroic band of adventurers drove the elves out and one of their number Griff Bandos the ranger learned he had a daughter when he came checking on Kara. Not one to abandon kin Griff took to raising young Lynn himself. And for a few years he juggled being a father with adventuring. He taught her some wilderness survival skills and showed her how to use a bow. But after a bad turn of luck Griff's adventuring group was being sent into enemy territory on some foolhardy mission certain to end in horror or fabulous wealth. Griff left the now adolescent child Lynn in the care of the Church of the Lightbringer until his return...

Her life as a ward of the Church was a good one and she learned the ways of the Lightbringer later becoming a young Acolyte herself. She is a helpful and adventurous young woman with a passion for helping others. Her talents not just as a healer but also as a skilled cook, mender of clothing and gear, and skill at keeping things clean and organized landed her a spot on a team of adventurers formed by the brash young militia boy after his time of service had ended... her story continues but the back story has ended. :)

Hooks:
- What ever happened to her parents?
- elves from the occupation return for cruel purposes
- possible love triangle between her and the militia boy she has a crush on and the young Church monk who has a crush on her (see their back stories for more)
- anything involving the destruction of undead as a duty of the Lightbringer
- anything involving the collection of herbal ingredients for healing or eating
- cooking contests
- slice of life featuring her life as an acolyte in the village.


"Oh, those scars? Long story, I don't want to bore you or scare you.

...You really want to know don't you? Very well. Let's see...seems like it was only yesterday I found Rusul on top of me, the little scamp~ You know how witches make pacts with their patrons right? Well with the promise of a way to get out of my s+!%hole of a home and magical powers how could I refuse. I studied in secret of course, easy to do when nobody wants to look at the results of a broken tradition. Seriously, do they give all half-elves that look?

Anyways I'm getting off track. See there's this one priest in town, an Aasimar actually. You know, those things that descend from good outsiders and such. Well after a lot of studying I noticed something. His channel rays were already suspect to me, and I don't know about you but what herald of the stupid stag in the sky can't use a longbow? The biggest tell though was a spell he loved using, mage armor. Prayers might have disguised it to others but there was no fooling me, and I'll be dammed if I find a holy man that can actually cast that. And then I made a huge mistake

See when all you have to confront an Aasimar with is sleep you're kinda risking a lot when you call him out on his s@&$. He got a hold of me while I was casting the spell and sold me out for witchcraft...despite not knowing that I was a witch in the first place. The town went along with it, I'm not really sure who really believed it and who just wanted me dead but there I was, tied to a burning stake. Quite frankly I would have died if Rusul wasn't there. I swear I've never ran that fast ever since.

Everything after that's a bit of a blur, a lot of wandering around with no food in my stomach, passing out, waking up in a temple of Irori with nothing but new clothing, that sort of deal. But yes, that's how I got these scars, it's why I'm cautious around priests I haven't read, and it's why I ask you to put out every damn fire."

-Taliba, my enchantment focused witch that rolled 3 natural ones for her gold during character creation. Yes I was offered average, and I was about to take it, but inspiration struck and I didn't really need the money at that level.


Pathfinder Adventure Path Subscriber
Freya Solheim wrote:
Too much?

NEVER TOO MUCH! :) The same usually happens to me doing backstories. I sit down meaning to maybe sketch out a couple of paragraphs, and the next thing I know, it's reaching nearly short story length.

I couldn't sleep once, so I brought up my computer to type out a few brief details about the paladin I'm playing in an RL Rise of the Runelords campaign right now. Next thing I knew, it was six hours later and I had seven or eight typed pages.

I think it's one of my favorite parts of playing, though. I love to think about characters, and why someone would be doing what they're doing, not just "oh, I'm playing (insert class here) because it's (insert class here)."

(Hence the five or six characters I've written over the past week or two as potential PbP characters, all with backstories about the length of Freya's. I may have a problem. :/ All in my alias list if anyone cares to take a peek.)

Sovereign Court

Dot,

My backstory are usually short

I care very little of the past in characters

But I do have an oread druid who has some shady backstory. I left out allot of details, because I ment to use them as little spoiler alerts.

Grand Lodge

Galiven was born in Cheliax, and was abandoned at birth by her parents. A nymph found her and took her as a child.
As she grew up she became fascinated with animals and the wild. She found snakes and reptiles more interesting than most. She learned nature magic from her adopted mother and became a druid, taking a coral snake as her companion. She joined a small group and found out she enjoyed the thrill of hunting and killing monsters who threatened the land. But the day came when they had to choose, money or the greater good? She refused to take greed over the right, and her older friends turned on her. She escaped with her life, but not without scars, and now is wary of others, and refuses to get close to others (no physical contact). She still follows her heart, knowing who to trust and who not to.

She wanders around the world, searching for hope in good.

Small left out stuff is like she was raped by her former party members, and she was slashed down the back by the same.


I like to keep the initial backstory short and then add to it after GM approval/input. Brevity is the heart of wit or so they say. And it makes a better first impression. If I have their interest they can read all my little short stories and diary entries at a later date.


I played an 8th level Inquisitor in a one shot game. Since the character had to be 8th level to play, I came up with a backstory (that the GM totally ignored) where he started as a lowly common herdsman who had received visions of from the gods calling him to a higher purpose. So he struck out across the desert on a one month journey to find the rest of the party, as it was foretold he should. Every day he grew wiser, stronger, and more resilient because the gods favored him (that's how I justified him becoming 8th level w/out actually adventuring to get it). By the time he met the rest of the party he was the character I rolled up. Shame that he didn't live to finish the game, though.

Grand Lodge

Pathfinder Companion Subscriber

PFS Tiefling Warpriest, Luka "Thumper" Thundertusk:

Born in Tolguth, in the Realm of the Mammoth Lords, Luka was raised amongst the hardy barbarians of the Great Tusk tribe, as a savage survivor in an environment that constantly threatens death from exposure, disease or predators. Dependence, and trust, was key to this survival, in the tight-knit community that dared these lands. So, when Luka reached maturity, and her fiendish heritage was revealed, the isolation, fear, and eventual exile, left her distraught, and she saw little chance for survival. With no real destination in mind, she followed the Frozen Road, to what end, she knew not. It was months into her journey, that she found she was near Chillblight, the regional capital of Feyfrost, in Irrisen. There, as she made camp, and when she awoke, she found herself bound in ice. Several cruel Cold Fey, danced around her, and laughed as they mocked her attempt to break free. They told her that she was in a secret place, not meant for those not of Fey blood. This was a shrine to Ng, and to repay the Eldest for her insult, she would be sacrificed. The Cold Fey then told her, to better please the Eldest of secrets, they would reveal the secrets of the First World, and the power to be drawn from it, only to have the secrets die with her. The Cold Fey burst into an abrubt cascade of laughter, at the delightful "irony" this presented. Luka listened, intently, as they spilled their secrets, but shifted subtly in the ice that bound her. Soon, the secrets revealed began to tear at Luka's mind, and chaos enveloped her thoughts. As her mind neared the edge of breaking, her body surged with strength, and in an explosion of ice, and screams, she broke free of the ice, and attacked the Fey. An enraged abyssal beast, she slaughtered, and devoured the Fey, and desecrated the shrine, with blood and filth. As the world grew clearer, she tried to recall the secrets the Fey bestowed upon her, but only bits came through the mists of her fractured mind. It was then, she decided that she would have all of their secrets, once again, and more. She swore an oath, to the Hooded Ng, to capture all of the dark secrets stolen from her mind, and please him even more. Months past, her temperment cooled, and she soon heard of the Pathfinder Society, a globe-spanning organization of adventurers, who explore, delve, and otherwise experience the lesser-seen parts of the world. Surely no other such organization was more well equipped to discover the secrets of the world. Without hesitation, she worked to join the Society, and seek the adventures it provided.


Breanne is a sociopathic NE Aasimar pestilence sorceress with the healing tears racial ability who reveres the destructive power of disease.

While she could never truly understand humans, she cultivated a strong understanding of disease and its effect on humans. She found comfort in disease’s ability to cross the lines of status and race and root out those who were weak.

It started the day of her birth. Many in her village were effected by an eldritch disease, including her pregnant mother. The stress of labor finally ended her life and Breanne was brought into the world from an already dead mother. Due to her yet unknown heritage, Breanne was born perfectly healthy. In fact, her tears helped to heal the few ill who were still alive in the village. Everyone was in awe of young Breanne, her ability to heal was unlike anything anyone had ever seen. The pressure to solve everyone’s problems made the girl begin to lash out. She found that she had the ability to cause sickness, not just heal it. This revelation led Breanne to run away from home at a young age. She hated to leave her sister, Galena. Her sister often got sick and Breanne had always been there to help her get better. But she knew she would cause more harm than good eventually. She knew that these simple townsfolk would not understand her fascination with disease. She found it to be so very elegant, much more so than the needy and fragile creatures it plagued. And she needed to be away from the masses to master her art.

But Breanne needed to make a living to survive. After a few months in the wild, the clever girl found ways to discreetly cause illness and then provide her services as a healer to help people, for a meager price of course. While Breanne was not particularly fond of humans and the like, she was pretty good at befriending people and she was also quite adept at figuring out if they harbored ill will towards her. She was quite likeable, so few ever suspected her. But if someone did start to get suspicious, that person would come down with an illness that would cause them to no longer spread such rumors. In a town plagued with sickness, no one thought twice about one more person getting sick.

Whether she originally believed it or has since talked herself into it, Breanne does not believe that she is evil. She is just a conduit for Mother Nature and disease. She is just a part of the natural order and as such, she must not have much empathy for those that she must bestow sickness upon. Deep down, she knows that she is toeing the line. She finds that she somewhat enjoys causing the weak and pitiful to be uncomfortable and inconvenienced with sickness. She also knows that it is a little wrong to take money for ending people’s pain and suffering, but she knows that she too must survive in order to continue healing others who are truly ill and deserve to be healed. She also fears that if she did not charge for her services, she would have a repeat of her childhood, which was the last thing that she wanted. Though she had the ability to help, she did not owe these people anything. In fact, they owe her. Without her and her abilities, the sick would be left to rot.


A just started character is my current favorite, A (trying to be reformed) thief and gang member was raised by a gang in absalom, she proved to be a talented liar and would convince people to take loans from them and they'd be easy to repay when they fell behind she would invent the most gruesome of punishments. One night she saw flames from a store where she'd told the owners they would lock them inside and burn it to the ground. Suddenly she knew just how evil the rest of her gang were and ran off to be picked up by the muckrakers, after that she ran again, this time right out of absalom, at the age of 12 she's made her way from caravan to caravan until she's reached Sandpoint, she's geared herself out as a performer and is about to become a hero.

Grand Lodge RPG Superstar 2015 Top 32, RPG Superstar 2012 Top 32

Thomas the Tiefling Hero
Jenter the Happy Swordsman

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