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this is a backstory for a dnd character please do not repost the art or the story w/out permission
ART MADE BY MOI :)
As mentioned before I lived in an old church on and old hill where both the hill and the church seemed to be falling apart at the same rate, Moss and leaves had ambushed my bedroom (not like I was against that, but my parents and sibling most certainly were), cracks formed on the flooring and the walls and if you could describe churches appearance just while walking by words such as “abandoned” and “Unlivable” would certainly be the first to come to mind because how could someone live in a place so…not livable? Whatever glory my church/house once had was long gone now and what remains here today is some crappy stone shit-space with broken windows and foundation. My parents did a “mighty fine” job with my older and younger siblings, since they actually wound up interested in Cleric-ship (Though I question my older brother, Max’s real reasons for getting into the idea of divinities since i’ve deadass seen him talking to spiders which definitely arn’t the patron animal of any quote unquote “good” deity I know of).
Either way I didn’t want any of that absolute crap. I wasn’t planning on going on some great big adventure around the globe but I wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of staying in this village on the top of a broken house and hill forever, My younger sister thought this place was amazing saying things like “You can feel the essence of Veuna seeping from the walls” Then she would point at a wall and say “The golden says so.” Even though there was nothing golden about our walls.
I, however, was the disaster the child. The one who didn’t see anything in Veuna (Though it should be noted that I had nothing against most people who chose her as a patron deity. More so just my parents and I also recognize her as an important symbol among the deities just not one I specifically wanted to use as a patron deity) and instead looked towards Milin, The deity of the moon, night and truth/tricks. My parents called her a “double faced no good witch” since she could be truth or tricks but in reality its just two ways of humanity, good or evil or truthfull vs untruthful. I had always found something special about the Moon as a kid I would always stare up at it through the broken skylights in my room.
My parents didn’t just have Milin for being the opposite of Veuna (Veuna, though through many stories saying otherwise - she has a very mixed mythology - she was the goddess of sunlight and absolute justice) they had been ancient enemies fought against each other in many sacred wars and never agreed on anything legend has it they still fight each other just in the sky (hence why we have day and night) so when my dad caught me praying during the night and not during the day he assumed correctly and lost his shit. So most they time when there are any sorts of gathering they just say “Oh yeah him, hes kinda just here, he’s a wanderer.” In other words they basically just disowned me right then and there.
And so on my 6935th day of living at roughly eight pm that day, the same time as my birthday which was never celebrated I climbed out my broken skylight with anything important (including a very small raven skull I found on said roof I was climbing out of right now) I had swiped a couple of handaxes and a staff that was in my brothers room made out of some kind of black wood and a messanger bag full of whatever religious items I had managed to collect over the years (chalk being the main one). I looked around this village, Goddamn I would not miss this place. I pushed myself off the roof and began climbing down the walls that basically had pre-made footholes for me my robes were not helping my sudden climbing down but I made due all the time with what I had I landed with a thump and examined my surroundings.
Forest to my right, village to my left, considering the fact it was the middle of the night and the only good training I had on fighting was last time I snuck into the woods to cut down a tree for some wood to sneak under my bed to burn later (don’t ask, its weird) and I didn’t want to risk running into some goblin or something that decided I looked like the best possible way to take out the stress of the day and rob me of all my mortal possessions and since no one in the village cared/knew who I was I should be fine with laying low in a tavern or something until morning (everyone in my family hated taverns so chances of them finding me there was lower then the chances of a mouse dropping dead at my feet out of the blue). I patted the pockets of my baggy cargo pants and checked any pockets I had on me and in my bookbag and the only money I could find was 70 silver zeltrons which might be enough for a room but I doubted it.
I walked towards the door and found myself in a place of what can only be described as “merryment” people were swinging and singing and all I could hear was laughter until I walked in, then you could hear yourself blinking with how silent it was. “Erm…Hi?” I said (keep in mind I am the most anti-social person you might ever hear of) they all just muttered amongst themselves and kept eating. Thats fine, All I need is a room to stay in. I tried reassuring myself of that but even the bartender gave me a hard side-eye making me wonder if he would even let me stay here.
I slowly walked up to the bar.
“Hello?”, The bartender sighed and walked to the counter “The fuck you want.” he asked, his voice dripped with sarcasm and disinterest. “I was wondering how much a room cost.” I replied, pretending not to notice his remark “5 plumes.” He said, his voice a sigh. That was an issue, roughly 10 zeltrons made 1 plume and I needed food as well so I would only have 20 zeltrons left. But it was better in here than in the cold outside and I could probably just scavenge food in the morning. “I have 50 zeltrons, Will that work?” I asked trying to keep anxiety out of my voice. The bartender leaned closely to my face I could smell booze and garlic on his breath “We only take plumes little boy - if your even one.” I felt my face heat up my long hair made my dad constantly call me a girl and that remark was more unwelcome “Listen dingus-whore face 50 zeltrons equals 5 plumes and if you have such an issue with not having your obsession with plumes take it to the bank I AM paying the proper amount for a room for one so give me the DAMN ROOM.” I slapped the zeltrons onto the bar with finality and glared at the bartender, “Will you or will you not give me the room I can pay for?”
He looked up slowly and met my eyes, “Take the room then you get the fuck out of my tavern.” He then shoved a small silver key towards me I held the glare, took the key and walked up the stairs that had a sign on the banister that said “To rooms”, The bartender hadn’t told me the room number so I started searching the key for anything that could hint its room and I found on its handle two tiny numbers: 21. I looked around and noticed the hall started at room one so I walked down the hallway until I found room twenty one it was small had only a single matress and table it was a temporary room but it would do for now, I threw my messenger bag on the other side of the room from the bed, I was leaving at first dawn.
I woke up not to sunlight but to the moonbeams softening (the sun hadn’t risen enough to cast light yet) and I pulled myself off the mattress, and grabbed the messenger bag, It was time to officially blow this shit town.
ART MADE BY MOI :)
As mentioned before I lived in an old church on and old hill where both the hill and the church seemed to be falling apart at the same rate, Moss and leaves had ambushed my bedroom (not like I was against that, but my parents and sibling most certainly were), cracks formed on the flooring and the walls and if you could describe churches appearance just while walking by words such as “abandoned” and “Unlivable” would certainly be the first to come to mind because how could someone live in a place so…not livable? Whatever glory my church/house once had was long gone now and what remains here today is some crappy stone shit-space with broken windows and foundation. My parents did a “mighty fine” job with my older and younger siblings, since they actually wound up interested in Cleric-ship (Though I question my older brother, Max’s real reasons for getting into the idea of divinities since i’ve deadass seen him talking to spiders which definitely arn’t the patron animal of any quote unquote “good” deity I know of).
Either way I didn’t want any of that absolute crap. I wasn’t planning on going on some great big adventure around the globe but I wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of staying in this village on the top of a broken house and hill forever, My younger sister thought this place was amazing saying things like “You can feel the essence of Veuna seeping from the walls” Then she would point at a wall and say “The golden says so.” Even though there was nothing golden about our walls.
I, however, was the disaster the child. The one who didn’t see anything in Veuna (Though it should be noted that I had nothing against most people who chose her as a patron deity. More so just my parents and I also recognize her as an important symbol among the deities just not one I specifically wanted to use as a patron deity) and instead looked towards Milin, The deity of the moon, night and truth/tricks. My parents called her a “double faced no good witch” since she could be truth or tricks but in reality its just two ways of humanity, good or evil or truthfull vs untruthful. I had always found something special about the Moon as a kid I would always stare up at it through the broken skylights in my room.
My parents didn’t just have Milin for being the opposite of Veuna (Veuna, though through many stories saying otherwise - she has a very mixed mythology - she was the goddess of sunlight and absolute justice) they had been ancient enemies fought against each other in many sacred wars and never agreed on anything legend has it they still fight each other just in the sky (hence why we have day and night) so when my dad caught me praying during the night and not during the day he assumed correctly and lost his shit. So most they time when there are any sorts of gathering they just say “Oh yeah him, hes kinda just here, he’s a wanderer.” In other words they basically just disowned me right then and there.
And so on my 6935th day of living at roughly eight pm that day, the same time as my birthday which was never celebrated I climbed out my broken skylight with anything important (including a very small raven skull I found on said roof I was climbing out of right now) I had swiped a couple of handaxes and a staff that was in my brothers room made out of some kind of black wood and a messanger bag full of whatever religious items I had managed to collect over the years (chalk being the main one). I looked around this village, Goddamn I would not miss this place. I pushed myself off the roof and began climbing down the walls that basically had pre-made footholes for me my robes were not helping my sudden climbing down but I made due all the time with what I had I landed with a thump and examined my surroundings.
Forest to my right, village to my left, considering the fact it was the middle of the night and the only good training I had on fighting was last time I snuck into the woods to cut down a tree for some wood to sneak under my bed to burn later (don’t ask, its weird) and I didn’t want to risk running into some goblin or something that decided I looked like the best possible way to take out the stress of the day and rob me of all my mortal possessions and since no one in the village cared/knew who I was I should be fine with laying low in a tavern or something until morning (everyone in my family hated taverns so chances of them finding me there was lower then the chances of a mouse dropping dead at my feet out of the blue). I patted the pockets of my baggy cargo pants and checked any pockets I had on me and in my bookbag and the only money I could find was 70 silver zeltrons which might be enough for a room but I doubted it.
I walked towards the door and found myself in a place of what can only be described as “merryment” people were swinging and singing and all I could hear was laughter until I walked in, then you could hear yourself blinking with how silent it was. “Erm…Hi?” I said (keep in mind I am the most anti-social person you might ever hear of) they all just muttered amongst themselves and kept eating. Thats fine, All I need is a room to stay in. I tried reassuring myself of that but even the bartender gave me a hard side-eye making me wonder if he would even let me stay here.
I slowly walked up to the bar.
“Hello?”, The bartender sighed and walked to the counter “The fuck you want.” he asked, his voice dripped with sarcasm and disinterest. “I was wondering how much a room cost.” I replied, pretending not to notice his remark “5 plumes.” He said, his voice a sigh. That was an issue, roughly 10 zeltrons made 1 plume and I needed food as well so I would only have 20 zeltrons left. But it was better in here than in the cold outside and I could probably just scavenge food in the morning. “I have 50 zeltrons, Will that work?” I asked trying to keep anxiety out of my voice. The bartender leaned closely to my face I could smell booze and garlic on his breath “We only take plumes little boy - if your even one.” I felt my face heat up my long hair made my dad constantly call me a girl and that remark was more unwelcome “Listen dingus-whore face 50 zeltrons equals 5 plumes and if you have such an issue with not having your obsession with plumes take it to the bank I AM paying the proper amount for a room for one so give me the DAMN ROOM.” I slapped the zeltrons onto the bar with finality and glared at the bartender, “Will you or will you not give me the room I can pay for?”
He looked up slowly and met my eyes, “Take the room then you get the fuck out of my tavern.” He then shoved a small silver key towards me I held the glare, took the key and walked up the stairs that had a sign on the banister that said “To rooms”, The bartender hadn’t told me the room number so I started searching the key for anything that could hint its room and I found on its handle two tiny numbers: 21. I looked around and noticed the hall started at room one so I walked down the hallway until I found room twenty one it was small had only a single matress and table it was a temporary room but it would do for now, I threw my messenger bag on the other side of the room from the bed, I was leaving at first dawn.
I woke up not to sunlight but to the moonbeams softening (the sun hadn’t risen enough to cast light yet) and I pulled myself off the mattress, and grabbed the messenger bag, It was time to officially blow this shit town.
| Credit | my mind |
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Update #1 : by Crois 05/18/2023 12:48:07 pmMay 18th, 2023
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guys if you find this i swear im a CHANGED MAN
idk what any of this means..
BUT COOL :D