Chastity wants to know about your FAVORITE character you have created for DnD and what the backstory of the character is
I had a Silver skinned tiefling named Ariza who was a druid. I kept her backstory kinda open but basically she was (seemingly) abandoned as a small child, and was found and later adopted by a full blooded elf. Was taken back to her remote village and taught the ways of the druids and stuff. That's why at first she was so naive of the world and people and wasn't the best when it came to talking to people lol
Gaizen was a Scholar (A custom class with specialized fields and very high utility, at the cost of poor combat abilities. While they cannot use magic directly, they are quite adept at using magic items, or more mundane items from their specialized field, and gain all sorts of bonuses depending on that specialization. For example, they could subvert a curse on an item they use, while they use it, not spend a charge when using a staff or wand, or even replenish said charges. They might be able to create magical items or constructs, or interact with objects that would normally require a spellcaster to use. They are capable of learning enchantments, able to reproduce spell effects according to their level in items, even though they cannot use magic themselves.) A Human, he was born from a noble Vampire's cattle. Demonstrating abnormal intelligence from a young age, he was educated in the arcane, locked away within their lair. He forged magical and alchemical gear for their brood while researching more into their condition, meaning to further enhance their unnatural strengths. As he proved himself more and more useful, he gained the Vampire's trust, and was adopted in to the pseudo-family this particular vampire clan had created, one of particularly high status amidst the darker parts of society. This Vampire clan in particular strictly abides to almost chivalrous tenants, acting as if they were their own kingdom, their own lords and ladies. Able to create constructs to defend himself, and utilize a magic flute that let him control the lesser dead, Gaizen was permitted to leave the lair and explore the surrounding valley, to gather resources from the many herbs and magical beasts that called it their home. Absolutely loyal to the Vampire clan, as they were the only world he had ever known, he still couldn't help but be curious about the outside world. After the core members of his clan were called away, tricked by their rivals, the aggressors came to wipe out the undefended layer. At the same time, a group of adventurers, receiving reports of a man wandering the valley with automatons and the undead. With the lair and it's inhabitants in shambles, save for the prison block which held the still-living, protected by Gaizen's automatons, the adventurers slew or drove off the attacking party and any foul creature that still remained. Given true autonomy for the first time in his life, the leaders of the clan gone without indication of their return, no home to stay in, Gaizen jumped at the chance for adventure, joining their party to explore the world. He maintains loyalty to his vampiric clan, but has heard nothing of their fate since the start of his journey, and continues exploring methods to enhance the strength of the undead. Due to spending his entire childhood and adult life a captive of vampires, and raised by their 'honourable' sensibilities, he has a very twisted, childlike sense of right and wrong. He always means well, but also thinks that the common man is lesser, and might makes right. If you don't have the strength to defend yourself, or you can't give some form of value to those that can defend for you, then you are undeserving of that defense, to the point of contempt. He believes that a group as their collective is their true strength, that each individual has value, so long as they do their job, from the leader to the stable-hand, and if you attack one ally or vassal, you attack them all. This makes him absolutely dedicated to his party, blinding him to their worse traits, so long as they do what they are supposed to do when the time comes. He will adore a barbarian who spends his every waking hour drunk and complaining, so long as when a fight occurs, they charge into battle without hesitation, but scorn them should they be even a minute late, 'less they have a very good reason for it. He has little inherit value for life in general, even to his closest allies: If you die, you die, and you should only be brought back if you can still be useful. His time spent with the adventuring party humanized him quite a bit, and he will do all he can to preserve life when he can, but the dead, their body and memory, are anything but sacred
Our story begins as many don't. It wasn't a dark and stormy night; and no, lightning did not come ripping down the sky like a crack in reality. In fact, the sun was high in the sky, birds were chirping, and the day was actually altogether quite a nice one. Jean Paul looked outside and grimaced. "Of course" he grumbled "The very day of my greatest accomplishment and do I get a properly Dark and Stormy night!? No, not for me. Not for my Magnum Opus!" Jean sighed. His parents had been accomplished warlocks, together they had nearly lead the world into a dark age that would have endured for millennia. But then, they had been prodigies. Both being accepted into a contract with a Greater Deity, none other than Asmodeus himself! As if that weren't enough, they had only been 14 and 15 apiece! They always had just the perfect weather for their dark doings. Nothing had ever gone so easily for him. Though he pondered, they did eventually get hunted down by a party of "adventurers" he sneered at the word, It was possible that gaining too much evil influence too fast would only attract the wrong sort of attention. Was it possible that his mediocrity would eventually lend him greater success than even his infamous Parents? One could hope anyway. Jean looked back on his greatest work. A summoning stone, (purchased at considerable cost from a local black market) sat in the center of a complicated summoning circle. Surrounding the circle were seven equally spaced gilt braziers, each filled with rare and dark ingredients. A tendril of smoke from each brazier slowly filled the space of the summoning circle creating a miasma of near infinite shades of black, each darker than the last. Finally, as the smoke roiled and threatened to burst from the containment of the summoning circle, Jean smiled and spoke the ancient and terrible words of binding. "Heu Baruthanax daemonis. Tu veni ad me et dabo a paciscor? Ego vere vis hanc rem!" (This too he purchased at a crippling price from the black market.) "With these words I call and bind ye! Come Baruthanax! Come ravager of women! Come devourer of Worlds!". He cackled madly as a tear in reality ripped open and smoke poured in, going to bind the demon to the circle..... An imp was roughly spat out into the circle, looking rather put out. "What do you want Human?" he practically hissed the words in his already high pitched voice. Jean Paul startled. THIS was not what the elderly man at the black market had promised. He had sworn up down and sideways that this spell would summon a Balor! "Look. I'm not having the best day right now." Jean said as he pinched his septum in exasperation. "YOU aren't having a good day? I was happily tormenting damned souls when your blessed smoke arm things abducted me. I was a shoe in for employee of the century, but now I'll never hope to reach my quota!" (Some imps and demons use blessed as a curse, given that a blessing is painful as a whipping to a demon) Jean started pacing back and forth, waving his hands animatedly and using words so vile that I cannot relate them to you now (these too were bought at staggering cost from the old demonologist at the black market). After what would later be referred to by the imp as "A depraved litany of poorly used curses and unlikely vows against a certain demonologists hell-spawned mother." Jean stood with his chin held high to the floating tiny devil. "Are you interested in a contract? I have a bone to pick and I'd rather not have this whole process be for naught." Baruthanax looked at the young budding warlock standing in front of him with a considering and slithering smile....."Well, I do have a few vacation years saved up...will there be stabbing?" Jean and Baruthunax locked eyes and the smile spread to Jean's eyes as he said, "Oh yes...I've got one Hell of a customer complaint, and this is one review he won't ever live down."........... And that's where the story begins. With a now penniless warlock and a weak, if sassy sidekick. Will this young man live up to his parent's shadow? Will he track down the lying, cheating old man who sold him defective goods? Will he ever just for once have a properly dark and stormy night at the very height of his triumph!? Probably not. But he'll try. This is a fun one to run as it gives the character an imp familiar, establishes his alignment, and gives him a secondary goal that can be worked into the DM's story.
