Raised by his mother, Josef was a rather spoiled child. He never wanted for anything, including pocket money, provided he attended daily lessons. When younger, that was spent on sweets, so that he never really lost his baby fat. As his mind expanded and he learned to read, his daily diet of empty calories began to include penny dreadfuls - adventure stories with no real literary value, chock-full of villains up to no good, heroes being all noble, damsels being distressed, and, of course, unrealistic portrayals of derring-do. How Jo avoided tooth decay we may never know, but he developed a very bad case of mental cavities: hero worship. His favorite type was the Noble Thief - he strikes from the shadows, to bring low those who abuse their wealth and power! Usually in the motif of some forest animal.
Showing posts with label D&D. Show all posts
Showing posts with label D&D. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 6, 2026
Josef - D&D character background story
Most families apprentice their sons out when they grow big enough to do some real work - generally, about seven years old or so. Sorcerers, being untrusting of strangers, like to keep it in the family, and therefore prefer to apprentice their own children. At least, that's how it was with Josef's father Gamelon. When Gamelon decided it was time to train up an apprentice, Josef was already thirteen, well into a rebellious streak, unfocused, and much more interested in rescuing damsels than in scrubbing cauldrons. He was, however, bright, learned quickly, and forgot nothing. These traits worked against everyone involved.
After one year of drudgery, the boy had formulated his plan of escape. He would cast a disguise spell, take a modest amount of funds and a single book (not enough to warrant a real search; surely he'd never be missed by such a cruel father), and travel to the Big City, there to Make his Fortune and Become a Hero (tm).
After two years, he had a vague idea of how hard that was going to be.
After the third year, he grabbed the first spellbook he found unlocked, a single gem, and scarpered. A few miles away, he stopped to examine his loot. Only one spell contained within the tome looked anything like a spell of transformation, so he cast it directly from the page. Josef promptly blacked out. When he awoke, the page was blank.
Jo rushed to a nearby pond to inpect his handiwork. Did he changed to a dwarf? A grizzled soldier? A DRAGON?
The reflection that gazed back had dark, curly hair, emerald-green eyes, a slightly rounded face, and a pouty expression. It looked like Jo. Vastly disappointed, he heaved a great sigh, and trudged to a tree to relieve himself. One soaked pair of trousers later, Jo learned the extent of the spell's effect.
After congratulating himself upon the perfect disguise (Gamelon would never be searching for a runaway daughter), Jo began to wonder why his sorcerous father had such a spell in his collection. It wasn't long before such speculation was put away, never to be examined again.
Back on the path, Josef flagged down a cart, a farmer and family taking some produce to the city for sale, and continued the journey in the back with the wife and children. Conversation was awkward, and went somewhat along these lines:
Mother: "Where are you going, dear?"
Jo (in falsetto): "To the city, to seek my fortune."
Child 1: "What's wrong with your voice?"
Jo (coughing): "uh, Nothing."
Child 2: "You smell like wee."
Jo: "I, uh, had an accident..."
Mother: "Oh, it's all right, here, you can borrow a skirt and wash your trousers in the stream at our next stop."
By midday the cart had reached the gates. With one foot on the streets, a blur of motion, and someone small & quick promptly snatched the pack out of Josef's hands. Watching spellbook, gem, and scrimped coppers quickly escape, Jo thought, "Oh, no you don't." With skirts flying (trousers were still wet), he gave chase.
This is usually the part where all worldly goods are lost and the hero of the story laid low, but Jo's magically transformed body was surprisingly fleet and actually caught up with the young thief, bringing him low with a flying tackle. "Lemme up!" the urchin yelled.
"Won't," Jo replied. "You stole my stuff. Say uncle."
"Won't say uncle to no girl!"
"I ain't a girl, this is a magical disguise." This, with some pride.
"Yeah?" All struggling ceased as the young thief appraised the disguise. "Good 'un. All right, you got me. Take yer stuff, I ain't crossing no wizard."
"Sorcerer. But I want to learn thieving."
Thus began Jo's second apprenticeship. Charlie was part of a gang of child thieves, and at first Jo was pressured to join the prostitute's wing of the organization. But the leader, barely out of childhood himself, was impressed enough with the story of the runaway apprentice that he allowed Jo to take the initiation challenge. Well, buy into the gang, really, with the stolen gem.
In all ways, an objective third party would classify it as much harder than the first one. Meals were more scarce, work more physically demanding. But there is no denying, it was shorter. Two years, and done.
Now if that spell would just wear off.
Tuesday, April 17, 2018
Release the Weasel
(Part One)
Background
Release was an actual weasel, played by my daughter. The character was rolled as a familiar for her brother's character, a slaadi (Bud) with a three-word vocabulary. As neither character had an Int score over 6, it was a tossup as to who was actually a familiar to whom. I was playing a rogue who owned six pokemon (did I mention this was a homebrew?). I don't remember anyone else's characters.
The party is exploring a tower that seems to run on half-magic and half-tech, and we've discovered a complex pattern at the basement level. We believe that it is intended for teleportation and most of us are discussing it amongst ourselves and completely ignoring Release and Bud. Meanwhile...
Release: I use my Detect Magic ability.
DM: Oh yes, it's VERY magical.
Release: Oooh, Bud, it's shiny!
Bud: (nodding) Wise.
Release: I want to take it with me. I get out my portable hole.
DM: It's larger than the hole, and firmly attached to the floor. That probably won't work.
Release: I don't care. I'm getting the hole out and unfolding it.
Bud: Er...
Release: Unfolding it very slowly...
DM: It's definitely not big enough to cover the whole pattern.
Release: I move to the very edge to try to cover as much of it as I can...
Bud: Er...
DM: Are you sure you want to do this?
Release: Yes! I put the portable hole over the pattern!
DM: Okay, roll.
Release: 20! Natural 20!
Several other players, far too late: Wait, you're doing what?
DM: You capture a significant part of the magical pattern with the portable hole. Everybody roll saves.
Everybody failed. The pattern gave up its magic in an explosion of nuclear levels. The entire party died. Everyone in the city died. This was one of our DM's few TPKs.
(Part Two)
Background
Our campaign included an area called Wight Island, populated mainly by (you guessed it) wights. Every permadeath character ended up as a resident of Wight Island. A different party (I don't remember who played what) is on a mission to retrieve a seed from a tree which only grows on this particular island, when whom do they encounter?
DM: You all see the ghostly figure of... a weasel.
Me: No! It couldn't be... Release!
Cleric: Who the hell is Release?
Me: Release the Weasel! She's a legend! They say she destroyed the sixth city of Armenolos!
Cleric: Single-handedly? How the heck did you die, weasel?
Release: I put a portable hole over a pattern.
Upon hearing this the entire party (and a few nearby wights) bust out laughing at the weasel wight.
Release: Hey! Punks! Don't laugh at me! I got it, see?
Release pulls the piece of pattern out of a ghostly portable hole.
DM: Everybody make a saving throw.
Wight Island was destroyed in a ghostly yet still extremely powerful magical explosion. The entire party died. Every wight was killed.
Thus my 8-year-old daughter wiped out two entire parties and two main features of her mom's game, with one low-intelligence character and a portable hole.
If any players from those two games reads this and wants to correct my memory, please feel free.
Background
Release was an actual weasel, played by my daughter. The character was rolled as a familiar for her brother's character, a slaadi (Bud) with a three-word vocabulary. As neither character had an Int score over 6, it was a tossup as to who was actually a familiar to whom. I was playing a rogue who owned six pokemon (did I mention this was a homebrew?). I don't remember anyone else's characters.
The party is exploring a tower that seems to run on half-magic and half-tech, and we've discovered a complex pattern at the basement level. We believe that it is intended for teleportation and most of us are discussing it amongst ourselves and completely ignoring Release and Bud. Meanwhile...
Release: I use my Detect Magic ability.
DM: Oh yes, it's VERY magical.
Release: Oooh, Bud, it's shiny!
Bud: (nodding) Wise.
Release: I want to take it with me. I get out my portable hole.
DM: It's larger than the hole, and firmly attached to the floor. That probably won't work.
Release: I don't care. I'm getting the hole out and unfolding it.
Bud: Er...
Release: Unfolding it very slowly...
DM: It's definitely not big enough to cover the whole pattern.
Release: I move to the very edge to try to cover as much of it as I can...
Bud: Er...
DM: Are you sure you want to do this?
Release: Yes! I put the portable hole over the pattern!
DM: Okay, roll.
Release: 20! Natural 20!
Several other players, far too late: Wait, you're doing what?
DM: You capture a significant part of the magical pattern with the portable hole. Everybody roll saves.
Everybody failed. The pattern gave up its magic in an explosion of nuclear levels. The entire party died. Everyone in the city died. This was one of our DM's few TPKs.
(Part Two)
Background
Our campaign included an area called Wight Island, populated mainly by (you guessed it) wights. Every permadeath character ended up as a resident of Wight Island. A different party (I don't remember who played what) is on a mission to retrieve a seed from a tree which only grows on this particular island, when whom do they encounter?
DM: You all see the ghostly figure of... a weasel.
Me: No! It couldn't be... Release!
Cleric: Who the hell is Release?
Me: Release the Weasel! She's a legend! They say she destroyed the sixth city of Armenolos!
Cleric: Single-handedly? How the heck did you die, weasel?
Release: I put a portable hole over a pattern.
Upon hearing this the entire party (and a few nearby wights) bust out laughing at the weasel wight.
Release: Hey! Punks! Don't laugh at me! I got it, see?
Release pulls the piece of pattern out of a ghostly portable hole.
DM: Everybody make a saving throw.
Wight Island was destroyed in a ghostly yet still extremely powerful magical explosion. The entire party died. Every wight was killed.
Thus my 8-year-old daughter wiped out two entire parties and two main features of her mom's game, with one low-intelligence character and a portable hole.
If any players from those two games reads this and wants to correct my memory, please feel free.
Tuesday, February 27, 2018
I Want A Glaive
My D&D group, stationed in Korea, has just watched the newly-released movie "Krull," and the guy playing the fighter is going gaga over the magical weapon featured in the film. On the way out of the theater, he's badgering the DM. This entire conversation is OOC.
[FIGHTER] I want a Glaive!
[DM] You're not proficient in polearm.
[FIGHTER] No, you know what I mean. I want the large, flaring shirukin thing from the movie. (He mimes throwing said weapon). ScreeeOWW!
[DM] So let me get this straight. You want me to give you a throwing star with five dagger blades, each of them about eight inches long, that will boomerang back to you whenever you miss? And you don't see any downside to this?
[FIGHTER] Hell yeah! RAWR!
[DM] You know you're going to lose half your fingers.
[FIGHTER] I want a Glaive!
[DM] You're not proficient in polearm.
[FIGHTER] No, you know what I mean. I want the large, flaring shirukin thing from the movie. (He mimes throwing said weapon). ScreeeOWW!
[DM] So let me get this straight. You want me to give you a throwing star with five dagger blades, each of them about eight inches long, that will boomerang back to you whenever you miss? And you don't see any downside to this?
[FIGHTER] Hell yeah! RAWR!
[DM] You know you're going to lose half your fingers.
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