| T O P I C R E V I E W |
| Ugly is the new black |
Posted - 05 Oct 2007 : 13:34:41
Oftentimes, I'll ask my players to submit back-stories to me before we begin play so I can incorporate their character's unique history, personality, and motives into the game. Some of them will give me the bare bones -"My character is a ranger from Cormyr whose family was killed randomly by Nalavarauthatoryl several years ago, and now he hates dragons so I've selected them as his favoured enemy"- and that's fine, but other players go the whole nine yards by writing up stories from their character's perspectives.
Either way, I'm happy. But when people write up these stories, it tells me that they really understand the characters they're playing. Which, ultimately, is what I want. So here's your chance to write something up from your character's perspective. It doesn't have to be long. Mine certainly isn't.
Oh, and don't be shy. None of us are experts (unless of course, we are).
This story (it's more of a snippet, really) is from the perspective of a character I rolled up named Fadi Ash-Shakur. He's a half-orcish paladin of Ilmater and former slave from the city of Calimport. The DM didn't want to set the campaign in Calimshan, however, so Fadi's story takes him out of Calimport and north into the Sword Coast proper. In this particular story, he's aiding the Janessar, an organization devoted to ending slavery in Calimshan, at a camp located in the Marching Mountains.
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They attacked in the gloaming hours of moondark, as usual.
"They are naught but rank cowards," he explained when Kateb asked him why the goblins always seemed to attack at evenfall. The young man had smiled at that, the way young men smiled when they were about to get themselves killed. It embolded him, no doubt, to think himself more fearsome than his enemy. But that kind of thought was dangerous, and Fadi would have none of it. Stone-faced, the bearded half-orc placed a firm hand on the boy's shoulder and and looked into him with the one good eye his father had left him. "They may be cowards, Kateb, and they may be blasphemers, but they are not fools. Keep your shield up and your wits about you. With any luck, and by Ilmater's grace, you'll see the sun tomorrow." He didn't particularly care if the boy survived; Kateb was as green as the Forests of Mir, and had done little but ask questions since the day he arrived in camp a fortnight past. In truth, Fadi had grown quite weary of him. But the Janessar needed every man it could get to help repel the Snot-Eye and Spinetwist clans. Even every boy. Fadi idly wondered if it had been the slavery that had deadened his humanity, or the war. Probably both.
The paladin Fadi Ash-Shakur waited patiently as the attackers approached, his left eye burning through the pitch of night and illuminating his foes as they took to the field. At first they came alone or in pairs, the bolder among them taking potshots at the serried ranks of guardsmen. Here and there, an arrow or bolt would meet it's mark, but nobody was seriously injured. Answering fire from the defenders peppered the battlefield, occasionally clanging off of armour or striking true to goblinoid flesh. All in all, Fadi thought, it was a pretty silly way to make war.
Eventually, the clans gathered their courage and rushed towards the borders of the camp in a ragged spearhead. A score of goblins mounted upon slavering worgs led the charge, howling with blood-fury as they came. Old brother Qudamah said that there had once been walls surrounding the camp, but after eight or nine reconstructions, the Janessar had largely given up the hope of ever seeing another one raised. We are the walls now, Fadi supposed. Surely we take enough of a battering. He watched dispassionately as a crossbow bolt whistled towards the regiment and glanced off of Brother Olymer's shield. After a few weeks, new defenders simply forgot how to flinch. Fadi had been in the camp for four months, making him a hardened veteran by recent standards.
They came boiling down the slope of the hill in a wild frenzy, the spearhead disintegrating. Some paused to fire off bolts of profane magic; others simply rushed in, hefting blades and hammers and howling battle-chants all the while. A few of the defenders surged out to meet them, mostly drunkards and green boys; the greater number of the Janessar stayed packed in behind cover, taking shots at the goblins wherever they found them. Those that charged died brave, foolish deaths, with blood on their blades and songs in their hearts. Something in Fadi envied them.
He automatically stepped aside as a flaming series of magical darts seared past him, and many of his allies did the same. Unfortunately, the shift left Kateb clearly visible on the edge of the disturbed formation. Fadi did not see the arrow in flight, but it was clearly obvious once it rested in the boy's neck. Someone began to call for a cleric, but Fadi silenced him with a shake of his head, and calmly pointed out toward the killing-field. "This boy is finished," he said, not unkindly. "Our battle is not."
He whispered a brief prayer for his comrade and turned again toward the fight.
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love,
nathan. |
| 17 L A T E S T R E P L I E S (Newest First) |
| Charles Phipps |
Posted - 12 Oct 2007 : 02:53:03
I know there's a Samurai in the Forgotten Realms comics. Can't think of anyone else off the top of my head.
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| riot the outsider |
Posted - 12 Oct 2007 : 02:27:14
That not very nice.But is there any FR novels with samurais in them.That would be awsome.Nice character though. |
| Charles Phipps |
Posted - 12 Oct 2007 : 00:52:37
Yes, he's a Samurai from Wa.
Actually, I updated him from a Monk with a katana to a Swordsage.
Basically, he came to Faerun to chase after a murderer only to find out later he'd been tricked by his family so they could get rid of him.
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| riot the outsider |
Posted - 11 Oct 2007 : 15:40:23
Fujimoto is he a samurai. |
| Charles Phipps |
Posted - 11 Oct 2007 : 02:47:42
Fujimoto Genai had not seen his homeland in more than two decades. The crisp smells and sounds of beautiful Cormyr were a far cry from the cherry blossom trees and blue skyline of his homeland. Sometimes, the exiled warrior wondered if he would have been happier if he'd stayed in Wa rather than made his long pilgrimage to the other side of the world.
I would no longer fit in with my countrymen, even if I were to return.... Fujimoto now worshipped the god Tyr and no longer venerated the spirits of his ancestors. They had turned out to be base rogues and worshippers of their own foreign god in the evil Shar.
"Oh, TORM'S TEETH! Are you staring at the horizon, AGAIN? It's bad enough that you wear a dress like a wizard when you're a swordsman but you have to spend every moment naval gazing like a Monk?" A simultaneously pleasant and rowdy voice filled the air from his parties' horses.
Princess Alusair was now Regent of All Cormyr but her friendship to the Godswar heroes had not changed. Fujimoto never thought for a moment that they would monogamous lovers, though he occasionally wished she'd show a little more discrimination, but she was closest to him out of the many swordsmen who traveled with her.
Perhaps it's because I let her do the talking.... Fuji thought wryly before leaving to continue their survey of a land devastated by blight. He doubted the Cormyr people would ever totally accept him, especially since Bane's return, but they had become his people. He would protect them from the horrors that afflicted this land. |
| Charles Phipps |
Posted - 11 Oct 2007 : 02:24:39
Nice work Ugly is the New Black.
Brynweir also had a nice one.
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| Brynweir |
Posted - 07 Oct 2007 : 18:55:55
You're right - I kind of took over didn't I? Sorry - I was getting such great feedback that I couldn't help myself. I have removed my posts here and reposted them under Brynweir's story if anyone is interested. |
| Aewrik |
Posted - 07 Oct 2007 : 18:22:56
Hoho, I like the emotional intensity. :')
You know, you should make your own thread if you're going to post more. This isn't a brief character story any more... it's a little more : )
I really like the way she's a hero(/fighter, not just a court lady), with all that pride, turning her sorrow into anger.
I think it's really good. |
| riot the outsider |
Posted - 07 Oct 2007 : 04:29:16
Your written lacks atmosphere and feeling.Work on those and you got it.Good ideas thoughs. |
| Brynweir |
Posted - 07 Oct 2007 : 03:00:13
Thank you, Nathan.
Any suggestions for making it better? I'm actually in the process of rewriting revising the whole thing so that the story flows better. I have been working on this story for a long time and I could always use helpful criticism. |
| Ugly is the new black |
Posted - 07 Oct 2007 : 01:54:51
Brynweir, that was excellent!
love,
nathan. |
| riot the outsider |
Posted - 06 Oct 2007 : 20:19:44
I know Eric De Bie is a member of the keep I would really like to know what he and the other authors on here think of just this little sample of my writting.
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| riot the outsider |
Posted - 06 Oct 2007 : 19:36:24
Heres a sample from resent work: Dark and shrouded was the forst around the figure born of the mist.Blood stainted leather clung to the figures body slashes from swords and axes were imbeded into it like wounds from the battle that had just echo off the trees of the forst not moments ago.Elves lay slaughter along the dirt, dretch in elves blood which turn the hard ground into mud.The figure smiled as if got enjoyment from see corpes sprawled out all over, weather they were elves, men, dwarfs or anything that would lay motionless after its life was drained for it. The figure turned and walk away as if nothing happened sheathed its weapon and walk on through the forst never even looking back to see if any stired. |
| Brynweir |
Posted - 06 Oct 2007 : 14:04:34
Here is a short snippit (the whole thing is 249 pages so far.)
After he had disappeared, Brynweir tried to think about what Tamln had said. She tried to focus on the present, but as usual, when she was alone, she couldn’t help but look into the past. She couldn’t help but remember how this had all started; the heartbreaking event that set her on the dangerous path she now followed. In her mind she was reliving the moment when her world was shattered, her life forever changed, and hate had entered her heart.
****
The door was shut, and they could see that the privacy latch was closed. Bryn knocked on the door, a quick triple tap, and got no answer. There was a shuffling sound, so she used her small belt knife to raise the latch and forced the door open. To her complete surprise, she discovered Gavin holding Marik with a knife to his throat. The room had been ransacked, and all of Marik’s song cases had been emptied and strewn about the room. The bed was overturned as was the small side table; the pitcher and basin had been smashed and lay in small pieces in the corner. For a moment she just stood and gaped. How had all this destruction happened and no one had heard a sound?
As Tamlin entered behind her, Bryn’s head cleared enough to ask, “What the hell is going on Gavin? Marik, is this some kind of joke?”
“No joke sister. He has something that I want and I’m not leaving without it,” Gavin said with a sneer. His dark blue eyes appeared even darker than usual. The irises almost blended into the pupils, making him seem crazed. Though he stood perfectly still, every muscle in his body was taught, ready to spring into action. Brynweir was truly stunned. Gavin had always been different, a little distant and cold, but she had never suspected that he was capable of anything like this.
More calmly than she felt, Bryn asked, “What could be so important that you’d be willing to hurt your own brother to get it?” He’s mad, Brynweir thought. He must be mad.
“Nothing you need to worry about, dear sister,” he growled. His tone struck her like a physical blow. She had never felt such hatred from anyone.
“Gavin, come on. There has to be some way we can work this out. Just let Marik go.” She stepped toward him with her arms out in a supplicating manner, pleading that he not hurt Marik.
Gavin flinched back. “Why? So you and Tamlin can kill me. I don’t think so.”
She pulled back, shocked at the notion. “You’re my brother. I wouldn’t hurt you. I promise you that we won’t try anything. I just want you to let Marik go.” Although they had been rivals growing up, Brynweir had thought it was friendly, just sport. She had never even considered doing real harm to Gavin or anyone for that matter. That was about to change.
With a sneer he said, “For some reason, I don’t believe you, and I couldn’t care less about what you want.” He just stood there a moment, as though contemplating something. He glanced around the room, still searching, and then he looked back at Bryn. All expression dropped from his face. The sight of his eyes in that instant, so dark, so cold, froze the blood in her veins.
“I can see that Marik means a lot to you. In fact, dear sister, since you want him so badly, you can have him.” With that declaration he slid the blade across Marik’s throat. Brynweir screamed. A gaping red gash spread across Marik’s neck and a bright spray of blood spurted onto the wall and floor.
A look of shock registered on Marik’s face as he tried in vain to cover the wound with his hands. Brynweir lurched forward to catch him as Gavin gave him a shove. Gasping, Marik fell into her arms, and Gavin threw the knife at her. Brynweir was able to turn herself enough so that the blade struck her shoulder. Before she could even lower Marik to the floor, a cold numbness spread like wildfire across her back and down her arms.
“Poison!” Brynweir hissed. Tamlin grabbed Marik and reached out to catch her as the floor rushed up to meet her.
It was nearly three days later before she woke. No one wanted to tell her that Marik had died, but she knew. She swore on Marik’s grave that she would get revenge on Gavin or die trying.
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| Ugly is the new black |
Posted - 06 Oct 2007 : 03:46:01
quote:
Originally posted by riot the outsider
I've done that before but my backstories are much to long to post. I've been told i should be a writer some day.Some say I should write for the realms themselfes. I don't know.
I'd love to hear some of your stuff. Are there any bits you're especially proud of that you might want to share with us?
love,
nathan. |
| riot the outsider |
Posted - 06 Oct 2007 : 01:08:28
I've done that before but my backstories are much to long to post. I've been told i should be a writer some day.Some say I should write for the realms themselfes. I don't know.
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| sirreus |
Posted - 05 Oct 2007 : 16:44:39
I'm actually on page 76 of the longest(best) history i have ever done. I'm at work now but I'll try to get a snippet in on monday. |
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