No announcement yet.

101 DnD Character Ideas

  • Filter
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts

  • Fey Blooded Kobold = Faerie Dragon Kobold... why has nobody thought of this before?

    It could even have rainbow hued scales!


    • 125) The Obscene Stone
      Alignment: Neutral
      Worshipers: Goblins, Druids, Anarchists
      Domains: Earth, Confidence, Might, Freedom
      Symbol: A stone fist, extending the middle finger

      Info: It is said that anything can become a deity when it comes to goblin society, and in the case of The Obscene Stone, that appears to be an accurate statement. Nobody knows for sure how this idol came into existence, some claiming it is a fragment of a much larger elemental, while others think it's the crude joke of some long forgotten stone mason. Whatever the case may be, it was eventually discovered by a tribe of wandering goblins, who began to revere it as a sacred idol and eventually prayed to it for miracles.

      The Obscene Stone is a monolithic carving of a clenched fist, giving the middle finger to all who look upon it. Goblins who pray to The Obscene Stone are filled with a strength and courage rarely seen among their kind, willing to confront threats that would have otherwise subjugated them with ease.

      For all intents and purposes, The Obscene Stone remains an enigma, even to its own worshipers. Heretics and non-believers claim that it is just a rock and has no sense of consciousness. But those who devoutly believe in its power are somehow able to wield divine magic, as with any other anointed priest. In reflection of their god's unknowable will, worshipers of The Obscene Stone have no properly organized religion or ceremonies. Their alignment can range from good, to evil, or whatever in between. And each follower ultimately decides for themselves how best to serve The Obscene Stone. Be that as it may, however, the general consensus between its priesthood is valuing personal freedom above everything else.


      • 126) ​Chompy (Flytrap Leshy, Cleric of Gozreh): Just because you're technically immortal, doesn't mean that you can laugh off pain and injury like nothing happened. Even a charred forest can spontaneously return to life several years after being reduced to ashes, but that doesn't mean the forest appreciates being burnt to a crisp in the first place. It is this knowledge which lead 'Chompy' to pursue their current path in life. Being one with the spirits of nature, Chompy has decided to use their time in this physical body to take a more proactive stance on defending the natural world from the encroaching threat of civilization.

        Pledging themselves in service to the worship of Gozreh, and fully committing themselves to preserving nature in its most primal form, Chompy uses their divine magic to unleash holy vengeance upon the encroaching threat of urban development. They care nothing for how their actions are perceived by the civilized world, for they are not of the civilized world; and thus attempting to sympathize with it would be a wasted endeavor! To those of more evolved mentalities, Chompy's actions may be seen as a form of eco-terrorism, destroying the comforts and stability that civilization provides in order to safeguard a few thousand acres of untamed wilderness. But from Chompy's point of view, civility is a gluttonous beast which continues to carelessly demolish everything in its path, unless somebody forces it to behave!

        Domain: Nature
        Alignment: Chaotic Neutral


        • 127) Nyx Turen [Forest Gnome, Alchemist Artificer]:
          A baker by trade, Nyx already lived a fairly full life before becoming an adventurer. At least, she thinks so. Over the course of two hundred years, she outlived a husband, bore several children, became an accomplished baker and cook, and collected a broad stock of herblore. Between feeding her children, grandchildren, and now great-grandchildren, Nyx kept quite busy. But what truly excited her was collecting recipes. Recipes for delicious and interesting food. In two centuries, she'd practically exhausted the recipes available to her local area, and knuckled down to make her own.

          When a gaggle of adventurers showed up in her small gnomish community, Nyx paid them little mind at first. But they didn't just come bearing weapons, gold, and fancy stories. They carried the carcass of an Owlbear on the back of their Goliath barbarian. While the tanner had plenty to work with, processing the hide, the adventurers wanted to know who would be best to see about cooking the meat. And no one made a better meat pie than Nyx Turen.

          Cooking the wild beast proved a challenge, but Nyx found the task stimulating in a way she'd not had in quite some time. The results were delicious, and everyone came away from the table satisfied.

          Everyone except Nyx. She wanted MORE. It dawned on her that the world was larger than her corner of the countryside. Filled with beasts and plants and foods the gnome had never even heard of, much less cooked with. After some thought, Nyx decided to leave her home behind, and become an adventurer herself. Seeking new monsters to kill (and cook). New recipes to collect. New stories to tell to her family when she came home again.

          Assuming she didn't perish first. In truth, Nyx set out on her adventure perhaps slightly naive of the dangers she might face. Here's hoping her optimism doesn't get her killed.


          • 128) Rolen Ostoroth, "Traitor" [Drow Elf, Aberrant Mind Sorcerer]:
            Formerly of the Drow House Ostoroth, Rolen served as the scribe, personal assistant, and occasional consort of a Drow noblewoman and military captain. His mistress led a coalition of Drow warriors from many houses, in their military campaign against a force of rival Underdark races. The Drow assumed their enemies were merely mundane races - Duergar, Miconids, the occasional subterranean vampire lord, etc. However, this rival alliance had backers more shadowy and sinister than even the usual Underdark natives: Mind Flayers. A fact Rolen and his mistress discovered, to their horror, when they fell into an ambush, and their whole company captured. Rolen knows some Drow soldiers were turned into food or mind-shattered thralls. Of his mistress, he knew not. For a terrible fate indeed befell him: he was taken to the Illithids' foul laboratory and experimented on.

            They took him apart. Physically. They disassembled his body, and plucked his brain out. Their eldritch science keeping his body and brain alive, so they could subject them to untold tests and processes. It is to his good fortune that his brain could feel no pain; he only felt the maddening torment of sensory deprivation, and the occasional whirlwind of hallucinations when they prodded and stimulated his cortex.

            Rolen lost five years in that hell, though in truth he lost track of time very quickly. Before he knew it, the experiments ended. They put him back together - his body a quilt of stitch scars, his blood and tissues inundated with untold alchemical concoctions - and set him loose. He hardly waited to wonder why, he was so quick to put as many miles between himself and where they deposited him.

            The Drow male did not receive a warm welcome when he returned to House Ostoroth. In the time he was gone, Drow forces had been put on the defensive, their armies routed and outmaneuvered at every turn. They were furious, and looked for who to blame. To their thinking, Rolen not only failed his mistress (who disappeared along with him and her warriors), he must obviously have betrayed her and the rest of the Drow. How else to explain his continued survival? That Rolen couldn't give a reason as to why he got away only damned him further in the eyes of his people; the powerful headaches he felt did him no favors arguing his case. In the end, they would have executed him on the spot, had his psionic sorcery not manifested itself due to stress.

            Fleeing and leaving several bodies behind - including that of a Drow inquisitor, and a woman no less(!) - Rolen was branded a traitor and anathema. Assassins dogging him every step of the way, he fled to the surface, finding a place to hide. Now he's adrift, mind and body wracked by lingering ache and persistent trauma. Disheveled, tired, covered in a network of scars, and paranoid of both Drow and Illithid stalkers, Rolen, formerly of House Ostoroth, cuts a pitiable and unsettling figure.

            Only two things motivate him these days: fear of being killed (or, worse, of being dragged back to the Mind Flayer pits) and hate. Hate for the Illithid. Hate for the Drow houses. He is possessed not just by trauma, but by the stubborn refusal to fall. He'll live to spite them all, and hone his new powers. Until the day comes when he can tear their worlds down, stone by stone.

            And maybe, along the way, he'll find out what happened to his mistress.

            First, obviously, the Mind Flayers learned what they did about the Drow forces by extracting what they wanted from the minds of their captives, including Rolen and his mistress. The Drow, accustomed to duplicity and betrayal, refused to believe they were undone by anything else. Least of all stories of tentacle-faced horrors that could read minds. Perhaps, after Rolen's display of mental power, they may look into his claims further. As for now, though, they are blind to the aberrations arrayed against them, to their detriment.

            Second, rolen's mistress still lives, but for a certain value of living. The experiments done on her were far more extensive, horrific, and permanent. Her brain inhabits a monstrous body now, serving as little more than a guard beast for the Illithid. She longs for death, or revenge. It depends on how she feels on a given day.

            Third, the Illithid have their own reasons for letting Rolen go. These reasons are as cryptic as they are sinister.
            Last edited by Bluecho; 09-14-2019, 01:16 AM.


            • 129) Fergeg (Hobgoblin, Sorcerer): Magic was not something that Fergeg ever wanted to be present in his life, but the treacherous ways of the elves are well known among his people. Shortly after coming of age to enter military service to the hobgoblin army, Fergeg would be exposed to an abnormally high concentration of magical residue when his company encountered a circle of elven druids. The battlefield, as it turned out, was the focusing site of a powerful glade, and the hobgoblins had stepped right into it!

              During the ensuing chaos of battle, the primal forces of nature seeped into Fergeg's very being, and he began to spontaneously manifest strange abilities from that point on. A lesser race would have been awe inspired by such a phenomenon, but Fergeg was a proud and true member of the hobgoblin army. His newfound abilities disgusted him, and he did his best to keep them hidden whenever possible. But being so inexperienced, this trick couldn't last forever, and eventually his secret got out. Shunned and chastised by his own people, Fergeg went awol during his next patrol, and has been traveling the realms of Golarion ever since, trying to find some way to live with the 'curse' he's been afflicted with.

              Bloodline: Fey


              • 130) Al Yarog the Younger, Clan Black Boar [Half-Orc, Champion Fighter]:
                Since his youth, Al Yarog was compared to another Half-Orc who shared his name: Al Yarog the Elder, a warrior of great renown. When two great nations went to war, and his own called upon the strength of all the clans in the region who swore fealty to the king, Al Yarog of Clan Black Boar was quick to answer. Hoping his valor in battle would not only give glory to Clan Black Boar, but elevate his own name beyond merely as a sound-alike to a greater name. That when they spoke of the great warriors of that age, they would speak of "Al Yarog, Elder and Younger".

                For a time, the Younger got a taste of what he desired. He survived multiple hard fights over the course of the multi-year long campaign. When soldiers would speak of Al Yarog, it came to pass that they DID need to specify which. The Half-Orc swelled with pride. Pride enough that he grew careless. At a critical juncture, he dove into combat, heedless of troops that were falling back in terror. It was only when he wove into the strange forest of stones, until he was lost amid them, that he realized they were statues. Not just statues, though, but the petrified forms of allies.

                It occurred to him too late that he should turn back, and he raised his eyes just in time to meet the gaze of a Medusa clad in plate and riding a gorgon.

                When next he stirred, it was centuries later, a freak storm of magic unweaving the enchantment that turned himself and many others to stone. Though at that point, few of his fellow petrified warriors were intact enough to survive returning to flesh. The battlefield was long abandoned; the war long behind them.

                Al Yarog the Younger returned to a changed homeland. Nations had risen and fallen; the people considered that war a distant legend. Only the learned could recognize the name Al Yarog the Younger, and the stories painted him as a footnote. Worse still, Al Yarog's identity as a member of Clan Black Boar was met with disdain. In his absence, his sons and grandsons had brought no end of shame to the Clan, until the lot of them were cast into disgrace. Their lands seized by stronger clans, their descendants scattered to the four winds. Everything that Al Yarog the Younger had tried to build was reduced to ash.

                Now he marches across a world new and bizarre, a stranger in a strange land. Trying to find the remnants of Clan Black Boar, and whip them into shape. Finding new battles to fight, to rehabilitate his shameful lineage and give currency back to his name. Transcend his Elder in prominence. And, of course, find that warrior Medusa - if she yet lives - and take her head, just as she took his life and his clan's future.
                Last edited by Bluecho; 09-24-2019, 08:31 PM.