I’ll go first. He’s a reborn necromancer wizard, with a 1 level dip into death cleric.
His backstory comes with a clichénwarning for lost memories…
He lost his memory just before the start of the campaign. He was conducting a gruesome experiment on a dog, when something went wrong involving lightning. He died, but also didn’t, and came to wandering around his lab years later, clutching the skull of the dog, which had rotted away to just bone.
He didn’t have a name at the start of the campaign. I let a different player name him, as his character knew mine from before the accident. He came up with the truly awful name Melvin Kingston, which I’ve grown to love. He had a massive fear of death, having died once already, and was quite the coward in early levels.
His memories have been slowly returning, and he’s had to come to terms with all the evil things he did in his previous life. I recently took a level in death domain cleric, cos we had no healer, and I found the god Jergal, Scribe of the Doomed, who is concerned only with documenting the dead in his great book. Melvin’s faith has allowed him to come to terms with death, and accept it as a part of life. (His newfound ability ro wear medium armor has helped as well, lol). I love having 8 cantrips, and so so many spells to choose from. I have so many options!
I love playing him, and I’m loving the progression he’s gone through. I have more planned for him.
Now your turn!
Barbagosh, know affectionately as Barb, is an elderly Half-Elf. She seems to be gaining powers of sorcery as quickly as she is losing her marbles. She comes from a fishing village known as Jigow, where she worked in the Unbroken Tusk Inn as a baker. She prided herself on making delicious pies, and resented that Agathe, her orc colleague, held the title for best pies in the city.
Barb is thought of in Jigow as a kind old lady who is everyone’s granny. A wise lady who could help with your garden, or baking tips, a mediator between feuding neighbours, an avid reader that had lots of knowledge of the local area, and a fabulous cook that could fix any problem with food. A few months ago however, she began to change. Working in the kitchen at the Inn, Barb was baking a delicious fish pie when she was unable to find her measuring spoons. She assumed that Zorgath, a cheeky orc child, had taken them for a game. Rifling through a drawer that had been jammed closed as long as she had worked there, Barb came across a set of wooden measuring spoons that seemed deceptively light. She continued baking the pie, and using the spoons, but began to feel ill. Cold to the touch, and pale, Barb went home early, forgetting the measuring spoons in her apron pocket. Overnight, Barb continued to grow weak and unwell, waking in the morning with barely a heartbeat, and a bluish tinge to her skin. Wearing the same clothing as the day before (unheard of for the meticulously clean woman), Barb left her house to head back to work. She did not greet the neighbours with her usual ,cheery smile, and did not respond to Zorgath, running up to her with a cheeky grin, holding out her beloved spoon set. Barb went through the motions of baking her fish pies, but each one was a little off. Instead of adding baking powder to the flour, she would add sugar, instead of water to make the gravy, she poured in vinegar. When Agathe appeared to begin her shift, she was shocked to see Barb placing the pie the gently in the oven using hands that were not hers. A spectral hand had appeared, that Barb seemed to be controlling, Barb was totally unresponsive.
The following day, Barb continued on her routine as normal. Walking to work, she greeted the neighbours cheerily. She play-acted the grumpy old lady with Zorgath as she gave back the stolen measuring spoons. She walked through the door of the Unbroken Tusk Inn and picked up her baking apron, ready to start her day. Agathe questioned Barb about what she had witnessed, but the old lady was confused and told Agathe she must be imagining things. Barb remembered feeling unwell and staying home from work, how could she have possibly been doing what Agathe was claiming?
As the weeks went on, these ‘funny spells’ as Barb refers to them, became more frequent, with the magic persona taking skillful control, while the non-magic persona became increasingly vague and confused. One day, Barb woke up on the back of a Horizonback Turtle, with no clear idea of how she got there, and nothing on her person, but a bit of gold and a set of bizarre measuring spoons that she didn’t remember owning. Barb had lost all memory of who she was, where she was from, but she knew one thing- she could do with a nice cup of tea.
TL;DR- A senile, but surprisingly powerful sorcerer who loves a cup of tea.
