#d&d backstory | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

finnissilly · 9 months

Text

another short story between kilo and miles- this being the last time they interact.

TW: lots of phyiscal pain descriptions, torture, vomiting, mentions of abuse.

Two figures sat across one another in what looked to be an underground campsite of a sort, the only source of light emitting was that of a small campfire within the vast darkness.

The first looked to be that of a taller, built, pale elf with dark hair, his face was thrashed of many scars, with a tired expression painted across his face.

He looked to be the older of the two, wearing darker loose fitting clothing bedside his armor.

The other seemed to be a shorter, younger elf with darker blue skin, his hair was that of a starlight off white color, his face appeared to have freckles speckled across as one of his favorite eyes remained covered by his hair that draped down.

He’d worn dark, almost full armor to cover and protect themselves in the harsh world he’d lived within.

The two looked to be related of sorts.

His face painted a different expression though, one of which that portrayed distress.

It was relatively quiet between the two as the only sound was the popping of the firewood, crackling and sparking.

“Right.. what’s wrong?” The older one spoke, breaking the silence as he glanced over at his younger brother.

“Hm?” He seemed to snap from his daze as he met with the man across the fire.

“You’re only this quiet if you’re upset or if you’re distracted. Both can fall into the same category.”

“Oh um..” Kilo was caught off guard, “it’s-“

“You’re full of shit if you say ‘it’s nothing’ Kil’” Miles spoke as he glared over at his brother, he was a very blunt and brutally honest individual.

Kilo, quite the opposite as he considered his options, before sighing in defeat.

“Well- I guess just..” they struggled in an attempt to find their words “I miss my parents, y’know..?” He admitted. “I mean- they couldn’t had just.. up and left me could they? They would’ve told me they would’ve-“ he was soon cut off “yes they would’ve.” Miles spoke bluntly as he took a swig of alcohol.

“No! I- maybe with you but not with me. I-“

Kilo stopped before covering his mouth, gasping as they’d realized what they’d said, looking over and seeing an angry expression on his brother's face.

“No I- I didn’t mean it like that.”

Miles let out a laugh “no- no I get it! You’re the perfect son and I’m the fuck up they sold! Yeah. Yeah that tracks.” He spoke in an aggressive tone.

“Miles.. you know I didn’t mean it like that, I never said you were a fuck up-“

“Yeah but you sure meant it.”

“No I- you’re not a fuck up. I’ve never thought you were one..” Kilo tried to calm his brother down as he sighed.

“No I mean, what I meant is-.” He stood up.

“I don’t understand why they’ve done what they’ve done I mean- they sold you, like you said, and they.. I dunno I guess never really paid much attention to me and I just..” he sighed, it went quiet for a moment.

“It’s unfair, yeah but..” Miles spoke letting out a sigh before he’d shook his head “They’re just shitty people, don’t try to put much thought into their actions.” He said in an attempt to calm him.

Kilo snapped “No! They’re not shitty people they- they took care of me! They fed me they-“

Miles sort of laughed “Kilo- you can’t still seriously be defending them?” He said in a puzzled way, Kilo about to speak back as Miles hadn’t let him get a word in.

“Yeah- they did the BARE minimum?? Kilo- they neglected you your WHOLE life! And you still defend them?” Miles spoke baffled and a bit angrily as he stood.

“Because they’re my parents!! I’m supposed to love my parents! And they’re supposed to love me! And- I need to do better!” Kilo yelled in an upset tone.

“Oh for god's sake Kil- why can’t you see what shits they are?? They NEVER even fuckin told you about me! You had to find out that shit on your own, what kind of parents fuckin, sell your children and neglect the other one??” Miles snapped at him.

“Maybe they had a good reason! Maybe they were I dunno.. low on money??” Kilo tried to defend his parents

“Oh and you think that’s a fucking excuse?? Low on money? So what? You pop out a baby and sell him immediately??” Miles was so baffled with Kilo’s argument.

“YOU’VE NEVER EVEN MET THEM!!” Kilo yelled out at Miles.

“I don’t need to have MET THEM to know that they’re fucking CHILD ABUSING CULTISTS!” Miles practically screamed at his brother.

“They- what-?” Kilo’s eyes widened as he focused on his brother.

Miles was stunned for a moment before he’d shook his head

“Oh- yeah! Did I mention? Yeah they’re fuckin cultists, built a WHOLLEEEE cult on the raven queen, and I was their little present to her!” Miles ranted out

“What? No I- that can’t be true.”

“Pff- oh hear and weep Kil’ if you don’t believe me? Oh just ask Fern. That’s how we met in the first place.” He spoke as if they hadn’t seen Fern in at least over 3 years.

Kilo shrunk “no I… no how could they-“ he shook his head.

“You remember that little symbol Fern had on his forehead? Yeah that’s FROM them, their sadistic fucking cult.” Miles growled.

“No- you.. you’re lying!” Kilo began to panic as they yelled out.

“Why would I do that?” Miles said as he crossed his arms.

“Because- You’re- you’re just jealous because you killed your dad and I still have mine.”

Kilo said as Miles’ expression immediately changed, more in an upset form as Kilo brought up his adoptive dad.

His expression soon turned to rage as he walked over to his brother, and grabbed the collar of his shirt to lift him off the ground.

“You do NOT get to talk about him like that. Or EVER.” Miles hissed at his brother, who shrunk in the grasp of him.

Miles' expression intensified as he bawled his fist up and growled, before punching his brother in the face, breathing out before letting Kilo drop to the ground as he walked off.

Kilo sat there on the ground as he watched his brother walk off, glancing down at the ground as they clenched their fists, their face ached, but they knew Miles held back on that.. despite everything.

Miles breathed out as he turned within the cave-like structure he was in, placing his head in his hands momentarily as he sighed to himself. “God fucking dammit Kilo..” he spoke aloud to himself.

After some time of walking, he’d made his way to a small stash of different items he’d been smuggling to different people, scanning his items before spotting a barrel, picking it up and taking it with him.

He was supposed to smuggle some illegal items to a faction he was vaguely associated with, he was the guy they’d gone to whenever they needed a smuggler for a task.

Granted, he was good at his job and he worked alone, careful not to involve his friends or family into his crimes as he didn’t want to make it their problem to deal with.

He sighed, making it to the meeting spot after what felt like forever.

“Moonshine! There he is, our favorite smuggler!” A taller, quite bigger person had cheered out, briefly going over putting an arm around Miles as he’d shaken him slightly, Miles could never quite recall the name of the faction or the faces of these people too well though.

Only thing he’d really recalled was these specific two being bigger than him.

“Get off me-“ Miles hissed as he escaped the arm of the first man. “Ah that’s right, shadow-boy doesn’t like being touched.” He spoke with a gruff laugh, backing away as Miles rolled his eyes at this exchange.

“So, did you get the goods?” A, slighter shorter one chimed in.

Miles nodded as he set his barrel down, kicking it over to the two, It rolled to their side.

Miles crossed his arms afterwards.

“Ohh! This is gonna be so go-“ the first one began to pick up the barrel but as he did, it began to growl and rumble, unhinging itself as it showed a mouth that opened to reveal its sharp teeth.

Miles eyes immediately widened

“MIMIC!” The first of the men screamed out before dropping it, the other quickly snatched it, immediately throwing the creature off the nearby underdark rocky cliff side, the three glanced over the edge where it was thrown, seeing the creature fall before it had gone into the endless abyss.

The three went silent for a moment.

The taller man shot his eyes over to Miles, furious as he’d grabbed him by the neck “YOU TRYING TO GET US KILLED MOON?!” He screamed at him as he held him up within the air.

Man this would be a good time to teleport, but unfortunately- Miles already used that ability up for today.

Miles gasped as he choked, holding onto the massive hand that covered his throat, attempting to get free “n-no I-“ he gasped out, feeling the hand around him tightening, he had to act fast.

He quickly reached for one of the short swords at his side, swinging it at the hand, immediately dropping to the ground as a blood curdling scream let out of the man.

Miles gasped for breath as he coughed, hearing a thud nearby- glancing over and seeing the hand he’d just severed off.

The man screamed in agony as his friend now went over to Miles,

Miles attempted to get up, but before he even could- he’d felt his hair being yanked back as now he was forced to face the shorter man as he winced. “oh you’re gonna pay big time for that one Moon.” He spoke intensely to him.

As the other tried to stop the immense bleeding from his arm, using a spell on himself to heal the area, now just remaining a stump.

Miles attempted to get out of the grasp of the man who held him, as he sure as hell wasn’t going down without a fight.

Nearly ripping his hair out of the grasp as he’d harshly jolted out of it.

He’d soon felt a hard kick to the face, enough to make him fall onto his face from the nearby ground as he groaned, trying to get up once more, as another harsh kick to the back was done- enough to make Miles yell in pain, being soon met by the first man- pinning him to the ground by sitting on top of him.

“get the FUCK OFF ME-!” Miles yelled out as he could feel the intense pressure applied to his back not budging and keeping him there.

He couldn’t do anything, and he felt helpless. The only thing he genuinely felt good about was his strength, and that felt like it was ripped from him within seconds.

The one who kept him pinned began to speak

“Right.. perk up Moon! You won’t die.” He laughed as he continued, whispering closely to his ear “oh.. but you’ll wish you were..” He spoke with such an intimidating and intense demeanor as laughter was heard, Miles' vision slowly starting to go in and out.

Shit.

He’d completely blacked out, assuming one of them made him go unconscious, he wasn’t recalling how or why.

When he woke up his limbs were pinned down to a wooden table of sorts, not sure where exactly he was.

“Oh good morning sleepyhead.” A voice spoke to him, tilting the wooden panel he was on upwards.

His weapons and armor were taken off of him, just left in his wine colored shirt, chocolate colored pants and black boots.

“Where.. am I.. what did you do to me?” He spoke as he felt the pain from those kicks earlier remain.

He felt so dazed as he tried to get a look around the room he was in, but everything felt and looked too blurry to tell what exactly was going on.

“Oh we haven’t done anything to you.. not yet at least.” The shorter one spoke to Miles as he groaned shaking his head as he felt his stomach churn as he groaned

“Oh yes, well we did drug you to weaken you.. and to knock you out, we know you’re normally quite the strong one, we couldn’t have that..” the second ones voice spoke.

Miles gasped out before groaning “all this.. just for a fucking mimic..?” He spoke weakly as the room began to spin in his vision.

“You ALSO- cut off my FUCKING HAND-!” The taller one screamed at Miles right in his face.

Miles stayed silent for a moment “right well.. to be fair you did try to strangle and kill me..” he laughed weakly.

“Do you think this is funny Moon??”

“A little bit.. yeah..” Miles spoke in such a dazed and loopy voice.

“Right then, I’ll show you funny mister comedian-“ one of them had growled before absolutely decking Miles in the stomach, immediately causing him to throw up more as he groaned.

“God-! Could you have tried to aim somewhere else besides me??” He exclaimed

“Ah shit-“ Miles laughed weakly as he groaned “my bad, next time I get drugged then punched in the stomach by someone I’ll be sure to aim somewhere besides them-“ he laughed weakly before being decked once again, this time in the face, then his stomach, arms, legs, all over. This repeated for quite a while as he’d huffed out.

“That-.. that all you got..?” Miles taunted as he, for sure was totally out of it, bruises quickly forming across his body. As he could almost recall the two men looking in puzzled awe at one another at this man.. not only staying conscious but also joking? Taunting them?

“Right funny guy- enough fun and games.” One of them spoke as he’d soon brought out a beaten up looking tool…? Wasn’t too sure what it was with the dazed vision Miles had right now, maybe a pipe? Crowbar? It was something big and metal.

“The fuck is th-“ he couldn’t even get a sentence in before whatever they’d wielded was hit directly on Miles’ knee joints as he screamed in pain, feeling his bones crack, as they’d hit him in several other places- ribs, arms, over, and over..

He felt himself barely keep a consciousness up, actually he recalled losing consciousness several times during this but being brought back up just so that he was awake for everything.

The pain was agonizing and unbearable..

“And here.. I do believe it's only fair- since you took my hand, I can take yours.” The bigger man spoke as he’d carried a sort of hacksaw, “except.. I’ll make yours, so much worse..” he smiled in a grim manner.

This felt a bit overkill for a small mistake, sure mimics aren’t pleasant to deal with but this was fucking insane.

The saw pressed against Miles’ wrist as he could feel it begin to tear into his skin as he made a blood curdling scream

“Yeah! Doesn’t feel too nice does it Moons??” He spoke as Miles was practically sobbing from how much pain he was in, begging them to stop.

Finally, after what felt like several hours the three were alerted to the door as it had just gotten bashed into, looking up as it was Kilo, standing there within the doorway, huffing out angrily, Miles could barely make him out amongst the tears and the drugs distorting his vision.

“Get… the fuck away from my brother.” He growled in a protective manner.

“What? Moons you gotta brother?? Why’d you never tell us lad?” One of the men spoke with a chuckle.

“Oh hey Kil…” Miles spoke weakly, barely holding onto his consciousness, he was glad he was getting help but.. not sure how to feel about it being Kilo.

“Good gods.. what’d you do to him??” Kilo spoke with a concerned yet angry voice.

“Oh nothing he didn’t deserve second Moon.” A chuckle snuck out of one of the men.

Kilo huffed as he shook his head “listen here- whatever trouble you’ve got with my brother, just let him go. No one has to get hurt, we can discuss this civilly.” Kilo spoke in a flat yet slightly intense tone, he’d always been more of one to talk conflicts through before combat, however they’d hurt Miles, and he was holding everything in him back on fighting them.

“Your brother here gave us a mimic kid-“ the first spoke flatly as soon being joined by the second yelling

“And cut off my FUCKING HAND-!” Showing kilo what used to be where his hand was.

“Good gods Miles-“ Kilo spoke as he facepalmed, “is this true??” He yelled out to his barely awake brother.

“Pff-“ Miles shrugged “Yeah..” he laughed as he spoke weakly.

Kilo shook his head. “God dammit Miles..” he spoke defeatedly, pulling out a sword ready to fight these people.

“Aw lil moon wants to fight-!” One of them called out as Miles began to lose consciousness once more- the world around him getting blurrier and blurrier as he was fading in and out, hearing bits and pieces of the fight commence- hearing the commotion as he couldn’t do.

Anything.

He did hear a very faint yelping noise that sounded to be the sort of his brother, from that alone he could tell he was hurt, he knew what Kilo sounded like and he knew these people struck him.

He completely blacked out soon after that as the void felt as if it engulfed him whole, having the vague memories of Kilo's voice beckoning for Miles to wake up, and being moved somewhere.

He couldn’t figure out if that was real or not, but he assumed so.

It was dark and it was dark for so long..

He felt a poking in his side as the sharp pain came back in that area, he’d winced as he began to groan, his consciousness regained and he saw the sunlight.. sunlight? Oh of course.

He was up on the surface now.

He’d felt the hard dirt road of a ground underneath him as he tried to sit up, wincing in pain.

“You took quite a fall there sonny, we thought you were a goner for sure!” An older man spoke to him with a chuckle.

Miles shook his head as he tried to stand up.

“Oh- easier now there boy, you’re still quite hurt.”

He shook his head at the elder’s concern- seeing his items scattered across the ground as walking felt like agony, attempting to pick his things up as he lost his balance and fell to his knees.

The elder man rushed to his side, attempting to help him “Woah there lad, here-“ he pulled out a small health potion and gave it to miles.

“Sorry I know it don’t be too much, but I hope this’ll get ya back on yer feet.”

Miles quietly had taken the health potion, downing it as he felt some of the pain go away, still quite beaten up but not nearly in as much pain as before.

He sighed out. “Thanks..” he weakly spoke as the old man let go of him, Miles regaining strength had grabbed his things and put them back on.

He felt so dazed as he tried to recall what’d happened.

“What happened to ya?” The elder asked as Miles turned around “I haven’t quite seen a fella as beaten up as you in quite some time laddie.”

“Well I-..” he tried regaining memory as it felt like a massive headache, like the biggest hangover he’d ever had, he briefly looked at his wrist as he’d been putting his armor and gloves back on, now remaining a nasty scar, everything rushing back to him.

“Kilo… oh shit Kilo-“ he spoke as he frantically looked around and not seeing him at all. “Shit, shit- shit!” He began to run.

He ran down the dirt road in attempts to see if he could catch up or see where they’d gone, he ran for what felt like hours- until his legs wore numb and tired.

He panted out, breathing heavily as he placed his hands against his knees.

His harsh breaths shook as the night began to fall. “Fuck… FUCK!” He yelled out as he punched a nearby tree.

“God… DAMMIT!” He yelled out as he paced, his breathing beginning to get shaky as he felt tears trickle down his face..

That was the last time he’d ever seen Kilo.

#dnd #d&d #dnd oc #dungeons and dragons #dnd character #d&d character #dnd story #writing #writer #dndbackstory #d&d story #dnd backstory #d&d backstory

9 notes · View notes

wh0lemilk0vich · 2 years

Text

I wanted to do something connected to my character Mihai, so here’s the inscription that was written in the cover of the empty grimoire he was given by the wood witch when he unintentionally became her warlock. It’s the Romanian phrase “Pavat cu intenții bune” (paved with good intentions)

#misha speaks #donjons & dagrons #Mihai Mormântului #D&D pc #D&D backstory

2 notes · View notes

meeshnut · 5 months

Text

Id Est's eyes flew open, as his fluff tipped ears turned wildly around him tracking multiple creatures’ approach. He didn't understand the language they were whispering back and forth to each other, or why it hadn't awoken his traveling companions. Id barked a sharp alert to rouse the creatures around him and pulled the small Tabaxi kitten close with a gentle paw. He scruffed the small creature and blinked with her to the most armored part of their caravan. He curled around the small form and hunkered down to wait for the ambush to be quelled.

The fighting died down, and it wasn’t a language he understood that was being shouted. Not the outcome he was hoping for. It would take these creatures a little while to break in, and Id needed this time to mourn his family and figure out what to do next. The clanging outside grew louder as the raiders celebrated their victory, bringing the kitten under his crouched form awake. Id shifted so he could make eye contact with the last remaining Tabaxi of his family… she opened her kitten-blue eyes to meet his puppy-blue ones. He nudged her gently as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings. She turned to Id, grabbing at his muzzle, and cooing softly.

The one of the voices outside quieted, and Id tensed. The wood of the cart they were in groaned as magic bent it to its will, and before he could scoop Et into his mouth he was face to face with a large eared creature with bright red eyes. He pulled his lips back in a snarl, and the creature laughed at him. He moved between this intruder and the kitten. The red eyes found Et and they seemed to soften. Id huffed out a breath and watched the green thing cautiously. The rest of the group outside looked like this one, and they didn’t seem to notice the exchange happening behind them.

The being in front of them muttered something and moved her arms deliberately. It crouched in front of them and held up its hands. “Mongrel, stand down. I am Ma Got, Elder of the Elswer clan. You are on the territory, and we defended our land in accordance with our ways. You are both young and I have recently lost a youngling of my own. I… will not harm you.”

Id blinked in confusion, “I- I am Id Est, and this is Et Cetera…” he searched Ma Got’s face. “…and she will not survive on her own…” He lowed next to the kitten Et, who was reaching up and grabbing at his fur, to keep her calm. “I will not leave her.”

Ma laughed again, “The clan will not accept you, mongrel, but her… they might.” Red eyes turned to Et Cetera with what Id thought was longing. “I can raise her with the Elswer clan… but I will not fight you. You would not survive it. She would not survive with you alone…”

Id looked between Ma Got and Et Cetera. He was young, and she was right. A whine escaped him, and the rest of the Elswer creatures turned toward the sound. “Take care of her… I will be close.”

Id Est blinked away.

#Et Cetera of Elswer #blink puppy #tabaxi kitten #scribbles #D&D OC #she grows up to be a ranger #and Id Est becomes her companion #D&D #D&D backstory

0 notes

relicta-amans · 6 months

Text

The world used to be so small.

The town of Shanwick was tight knit. Most people lived in close proximity to each other, and the town square had become where everyone celebrated birthdays, weddings, anniversaries.

One florist, who greeted each day with a new flower in her hair. One barkeep, who would give you one for free if you told him a riddle he couldn’t solve. One innkeeper, who decorated the inn for holidays before the last one ended. Two shopkeepers with a healthy, friendly rivalry and plenty of inside jokes. And an aging blacksmith with a heart of gold.

When Old Man Jaross found a teenaged orphan stealing his crops, he turned to the blacksmith, Harkmon Gatress, on how to proceed. Gatress took in the boy without a second thought, as his son and apprentice. His name became Drexton Gatress. Throughout the years, he developed relationships all across town. None as important as the one with the florist’s daughter.

Her name was Elavera, and their romance was as swift as it was passionate. The wedding was more beautiful than any the town had seen before, flowers decorating every corner of the square. In lieu of gold, all the metalwork was done with copper, creating a beautiful contrast with the pastels of hydrangeas and pink roses. The ceremony was all laughs and soft kisses, and it seemed that the world would celebrate forever with them.

Months later, a conversation between Harkmon and Drexton resulted in the latter going out of town for a few days to pick up a shipment of supplies.

“I’m getting old, boy.” Harkmon had lamented about this often. This wasn’t the first time he had threatened to retire. In fact, he had told Drexton that his life had ended long before he adopted him.

But Drexton, now a man of few words and even less seriousness, didn’t take him at face value. “You get older every day.”

Harkmon only laughed, and told his adopted son that he truly did have plans to hand over his business. Especially now that it was an open secret that Elavera was expecting.

The two had embraced, and Drexton was off. In the nearby village, he heard more and more stories about the ongoing conflict between Avatice and Venya. Though it was discussed in Shanwick, it was more of an accepted background noise than any active conflict.

“Be warned,” the shifty supplier had foreboded, “Venya’s getting ballsy. You might see them soon enough.”

“Sure,” was Drexton’s only response.

The journey home was… uncomfortable at best. The happy bubble that was Shanwick finally popped, giving way to a world of scars and sorrow. All he wanted was to return home, to see the world without that bleakness, but the dark cloud followed him.

It only grew as he came closer to his little town, where trees and bushes had burned, the ground coated in ash. Upon the first house, he dropped the cart and ran.

Everything was scorched, with no sign of the flames. He must have been running for hours, home to home, store to store. The cycle continued until his legs ached, his throat raw. Run, search, shout. Over and over until he was holding himself up against the rubble.

He hadn’t been to his own home, nor his father’s.

So determined to find survivors, because that at least meant that they had a chance. But that was quickly becoming a fantasy. Corpse after corpse, people he knew, people he cared for.

He hadn’t even been looking for her. When he walked into the flower shop, he was hoping to find a trace of his in-laws. But she was there, in the arms of her mother, both killed by the same arrow.

There was nothing he could do. And yet he still tried, gathering flowers to surround the two bodies. As if it made the circumstances better. As if it made up for an actual burial!

He never rested.

Unsatisfied until the bodies were so beautifully entombed in life that it would be difficult to determine death had even touched down.

His hands were stained with pollen and chlorophyll, his feet bloody, his eyes throbbing. And he wasn’t finished yet.

His father’s workshop was half-collapsed. The invaders hadn’t cared much for thievery; they had enough. No, this was about destruction and destruction alone.

His father was pinned to a wall. Dead on impact. Unceremonious, just as the rest of them had been. This was another day to the ones who caused it. They had ruined—ended—a hundred lives and never thought about it again.

His body exhausted, no more tears to shed, he slumped against the wall beside the man who saved him.

“I always thought that it mattered that I survived and they didn’t.”

An old conversation, something that felt more poignant now, yet even more pointless.

Harkmon had tried to explain that he and Drexton were meant for each other, in some way. His wife and child hadn’t survived the birth, and Drexton’s family had died of an illness.

“And then I met you, and I knew I was right.”

A choked sob as the back of his head smacked the wall. Drexton, out of the entire world he had known, had been the only survivor. That wasn’t fate. It was coincidence.

And yet…

He couldn’t stay in one spot forever. There was nothing left here. Harkmon had the support of the town; Drexton had his name, his tools, and his body.

The next day, after sleeping next to a corpse in a pile of rubble, he was off to war. He had signed up in a horrible condition, in the same clothes he had lost everything in.

Training was hell when you had already beaten yourself bloody. But he grew callouses on his feet, hands, and mind. He became the perfect soldier. Someone who didn’t ask questions too much, and who acted immediately when ordered to. When his brothers and sisters in arms asked about the hastily scrawled drawings of women among the flowers, he gave short answers.

“That’s my wife.”

But it was his other skills that made him known to them. His blacksmithing skills were rudimentary at best, but when he fixed their weapons they were still grateful. Even the Sergeants knew him by name after a while.

It was three years of the same.

Drexton didn’t make friends exactly, but his loyalties were clear. Now a Specialist, the name Gatress held a little bit of weight. His comrades, and more importantly, his superiors, knew he could be counted on. That mattered now.

General Aldwic was finally facing down enemy General Helman.

It was to be this grand battle of the century. And as the general’s voice bellowed great cries of victory along the sinking sun, it certainly felt like it.

Bloodshed was nothing new. This was war. It was hard to surprise a man who had sunk his entire life into ending this. The first wave of battle seemed so stereotypical that it was almost commonplace.

And then, the enemy ran out of ammunition.

Or, at least, that was what Staff Sergeant Demoneye claimed. And there was no reason to doubt it, no reason to doubt her. The squad—hell, the entire platoon—went out without a second thought.

And the difference was apparent immediately.

The first wave had gone a couple of hours, and the whole of night had swallowed the grounds. The battlefield only lit up by lanterns and bursts of fire. Until… the sky started changing. And the ground was shifting, an earthquake rumbling beneath the surface.

There was no call for a retreat; there was no time. Flurries of arrows, of daggers, of everything came so suddenly. There was no chance for the soldiers already on the ground.

There was no chance for Drexton.

The attack hit him head on, he wasn’t one to panic and hide away. Left in a bloody mess along with the rest of them.

The soft whispers of a voice he hadn’t heard in years beckoned him towards the light. As he drifted towards her, towards his darling Elavera, he nearly touched her hand before the light overloaded his senses.

The shapes of leaves came into focus, and Drexton felt betrayed before he felt anything else. His vision clearing; the light of day doing the grand battlefield a horrible disservice.

Even the greenery, the leaves blowing in the wind, were discolored by blood and viscera. Bodies strewn about, gray and decaying. The warm sun doing nothing to the coldness the scene set. The light did not care for the death. It simply shone on.

The pain came next. Every dagger felt, every arrow piercing him again. It was only when he found the remnants of the weapons sent into his body that he realized what had become of him.

And there he sat.

Attempting to make excuses for his wounds, trying to put pieces back together that refused to heal. When he cut into himself to prove he was alive, it simply opened. A clean cut into a tapestry, instead of a bleeding wound.

And for the first time in three years, he cried. In agony, in pain, in denial… Until those words came back around again in his mind.

“I always thought that it mattered that I survived…”

No… not like… Not like this.

His hands warmed, in a way that had never happened before. A fire appearing out of thin air. Spreading through the air and catching the ground. He stood up, watching the remaining bodies catch fire and spread it across the field. Banners turning to ash, the stink of burning flesh obvious.

“I always thought that it mattered…”

Drexton knew magic, as a concept. Even back in Shanwick, those who had some connection to it used it very sparingly. And in the army, it was nothing beyond a tool in battle. If his late parents had magic, he never knew it.

And now, a man—a nobody—who had been dead and revived suddenly had this at his fingertips.

“I always thought…”

It was only after the flames had died, and Drexton had been standing in place for a while, that he caught shuffling from behind him. A familiar face, twisted in regret, stood eye to eye with him.

#d&d backstory

1 note · View note

cosmosnout · 4 months

Text

The real reason Oda had to get rid of her was not for plot convenience, but bc she would have kicked everyone’s ass. (Source: trust me bro)

6K notes · View notes

moonelnone · 2 months

Text

Children in One piece

#these backstories man they’re jumping me 😭😭😭😭😭😭#one piece #one piece spoilers #trafalgar d law #vinsmoke sanji #yamato one piece #boa hancock #bartholomew kuma #sabo #koala one piece #nico robin #sun god nika #gear 5th luffy #monkey d luffy #moonel.art

2K notes · View notes

atomikats · 20 days

Text

carry you with me everywhere

#me when i haven’t even gotten to laws backstory #GUYS #i just love that he loves his dad that’s all #one piece #law #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #corazon #corazon one piece #op fanart #my art #digital art #anime

2K notes · View notes

fiendishartist2 · 7 months

Text

guy who doesnt dance x guy who will drag you onto the dance floor

#theyre so sillay :3 #i need to find irl ace attorney friends bc ive only met like 1 person who really knows what it is ToT #my art #digital art #artists on tumblr #ace attorney #apollo justice #klavier gavin #klapollo #i put them in fancy little outfits bc they're at an event or smth idk #i just like making fancy outfits lol #i want to redraw my old pre 7 yr gap designs bc that fic still lives in my mind and i want to do smth for it #its: the phoenix and other early birds #and its SO FUCKING GOOOODDDD #if you like apollo and you dont mind his aa6 backstory you'll love it i promise <3 read that fic okay bye :D

2K notes · View notes

bumbleboa · 3 months

Note

Are there some law and lami doodles in your drafts that we haven't seen 👉👈

There hadn't been, but you made me think about them all morning, so here are some sketches!

#Anonymous #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar d water lami #one piece #my art #last time I drew tiny Law and Lami people commented that he looked too prim and proper #but Flevence and the little bits of his early backstory we have seen make me think that both him and Lami #both went to one piece equivalent of catholic pre-school and school with strict uniform dress codes #Bee replies

773 notes · View notes

latinokokonoi · 2 months

Text

i know ace wanted to fuck him at this moment

#and then they had a one-night stand <3 #i was watching that one “sanji being motherly” vid on youtube after feeling sad over his backstory #and i was thinking of acesan all day today #minors dni with this post #one piece #one piece anime #op anime #alabasta arc #black leg sanji #sanji #fire fist ace #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #ace #acesan #ace x sanji #sanji x ace

509 notes · View notes

dingodoodles · 2 months

Text

More Rooster backstory >:3c Check out the PODCAST HERE

#dungeons and dragons #dungeonsanddragons #dnd #fools gold dnd #comic #my dnd character #doodles #d&d podcast #podcast #backstory

406 notes · View notes

kookoofufu · 6 months

Text

Oda is a good writer with good ideas. But sometimes he's a good writer with bad ideas, and I hate/love it because he'll introduce a concept like "sanji is a secret crime prince" which I think is objectively Lame As Hell but then he'll explore sanji's abusive childhood and feelings of worthlessness and have sanji list all the reasons he thinks he's terrible and unimportant and undeserving of love which luffy genuinely can't comprehend because sanji that's what makes you you and i love you and you're wonderful and i'm just sitting there tears in my eyes like

#one piece #op spoilers #one piece spoilers #sanji #monkey d. luffy #whole cake island #i have a wonderful loving family but i still find sanji's feelings very relatable. so luffy's response fucking annihilated me #“that's who you are” “whyd he list all the good things about you” LUFFYYYYYYY #stupid ass backstory vs heart wrenching emotions said backstory produces

757 notes · View notes

officialmiintee · 8 months

Text

one piece / brothers

#one piece #one piece fanart #monkey d luffy #luffy #ace #portgas d ace #sabo #asl brothers #asl bros #mariefold destroyed me ONCE #ASL BROS BACKSTORY DESTROYED ME TWICE #AND THEN ?????#SABO LUFFY REUNION ?????#I AM BEYOND REPAIR ASL HAS ME ON A CHOKEHOLD AND THE CHOKEHOLD IS CALLED EMOTIONAL PAIN #mint archive ; art

1K notes · View notes

relicta-amans · 7 months

Text

It wasn’t Chrysanthos’ fault that he was terrible at arms.

His form was sloppy, his movements reeked of insecurity. His expressions always curled up with anxiety and frustration. Losing every battle he was training for was just par for the course.

Kallistrate couldn’t blame him, when his teacher was so piss poor. Their father had left their homeland before his own training was finished, leaving him with incomplete knowledge. All because he “had developed a conscience”. Embarrassing. He should have at least gotten everything out of Grandfather before running like a coward.

Her father had created his own order of “good” samurai. Their edicts consisted of altruism and benevolence. Always concerning themselves with helping those in need, and cutting down those with malicious intentions.

But they were halfwits with loose grips. And yet, they still fought better than their future leader.

One night, Chrysanthos laid in the dirt with their father’s sword to his neck. Their father tried desperately to give him constructive advice without cutting him down, but only resulted in inadequate praise.

“Just… get some rest, son.” Their father cooed, dropping the sword and turning to their mother, who escorted him off the training ground.

Chrysanthos sat with his head in his hands, trying to figure out exactly what he did wrong as he made his thoughts vocal.

“Your form is pathetic, let’s start there.” Kallistrate answered a question not directed at her.

“Oh, what do you know about fighting?” He snapped back at her.

“Enough to beat you.”

Her cold words gave him pause, but he still scoffed. “Fight me then.”

“If you insist.”

What Chrysanthos didn’t know was that his sister had a lot of downtime. She was forced to work with their mother around the house, but when the work was done, she was reading. Studying techniques that were well beyond anything he even knew existed.

What Chrysanthos didn’t know was that work around the house was nearly back breaking at times. And when Kallistrate was strong enough to do it easily, she doubled the load. He never saw her train alone in the dark midnight hours. He might have seen the destruction of the training dummies in the morning, but never knew it was her.

The fight was over in just minutes. But having him on his back on the ground wasn’t enough. And the last thing he saw was his father’s blade coming down towards his body, while he screamed.

“Coward.”

When their children didn’t follow them inside, they weren’t worried. But they heard the scream just as they reached their bedchamber, and ran back out.

The father’s concern was that his own father had found them, and attacked his children. But to his surprise, the one who stood with a bloody blade had his son’s armor.

“Chrys—!”

But when the figure turned around, he saw his daughter’s eyes.

“Father, Mother. You should bury Kallistrate quickly, before dawn. We don’t need anyone asking questions, do we?”

Her mother quietly grieved, her hands covering her face. Her father wailed like a child, cursing her, damning her. Saying he had no children. Her response was simple.

“I don’t need you anyway.”

The family was too proud to admit what had really happened. Chrysanthos body was buried under Kallistrate's name. But rumor moved as Chrysanthos was banished from their samurai order, from his family's household. He was accused of sororicide, but convicted of nothing. By the time anyone thought to question him, he was long gone.

Kallistrate trained her swords, her voice, her body. After a while, she was indistinguishable from any man. And anyone who had never known Chrysanthos never questioned her name or background.

But the new Chrysanthos could never hold the same edicts as his father’s order, and his grandfather’s edicts were unknown to him. So he made his own.

One, he must keep his own interests and aims above those of all others.

Two, he must accept payment when it is due, rewards when earned, and an even share of loot.

Three, he must take every opportunity to increase his own stature, prestige, and power.

How else could he prove to his father just how weak the family had become? If his name was everywhere, them his father wouldn’t be able to deny it anymore.

Chrysanthos ended up far away, in a village run by a small family of nobles. And he became their hero. Not out of the goodness of his heart, of course, but because those nobles offered “a treasure beyond compare”, to the one who could slay the beasts haunting them.

He soon found out that they meant their daughter.

But Chrysanthos could not refuse. He married the girl. She was kind and sweet, and he almost felt guilty for deceiving her. Almost. She would cry when he would reject her, blaming herself. Months went by with no consummation and she finally admitted it to her parents.

The marriage was annulled, but the family told Chrysanthos that he was still their hero. That he was welcome any time. His former wife cried into his chest and asked him why he couldn’t love her.

He didn’t have an answer.

The rumors spun once again through the village, that Chrysanthos was impotent, or a eunuch. They were almost funny, to Chrysanthos who bled like any other woman.

In the darkness, alone, Chrysanthos was still Kallistrate. She didn’t hate her body, her form. But Chrysanthos was the identity of daylight. And that was all right most of the time. But when she remembered the woman who was her wife, she had to admit that she had some regrets.

Moving on, reaching the coast, Chrysanthos made a different name for himself. He met a handful of new faces.

Najwa was one. She needed someone who could scare off threats to her “business”. That was easy enough. He didn’t care for her reasons for doing things the way she did, and she didn’t care to share them. Theirs was a business relationship, but there was a mutual respect there.

Gundren was another. He was the one who found Chrysanthos camping in the wilderness, and told him to go to the city of Neverwinter and set up a life. Whether Gundren had taken pity on him, wanted to take care of him, or wanted something from Chrysanthos didn’t matter. A city gave him more opportunities, so he went.

But Gundren did call him later.

Asking Chrysanthos for the simplest of duties. Escort a wagon to a small settlement in exchange for ten gold. Hard to find an easier job for as much as it was.

The… hushed nature of it all was what really intrigued Chrysanthos. Whatever Gundren had found, this “something big”, promised more than just the ten gold that was offered.

And who could blame Chrysanthos for wanting to know more?

#d&d backstory

1 note · View note