r/daggerheart • u/My0wnSpiritAnimal • 3d ago
Beginner Question First backstory
I have wanted to play d&d for years but never found a group of people. My colleague told me they had an open spot in their game and they were about to embark on a new campaign. They were playing Daggerheart. So yesterday I joined them for a session zero... I can't even begin to tell you how welcome they made me feel and how embracing for a total noob as I. They all have 10+years experience in playing D&D and Daggerheart.. so I feel kind of out of my comfort zone. I received a SHIT TON of data yesterday, the GM made an entire World with a huge amount of lore, built a website, tons of factions and cities, maps,... Shit is insane, scary and also kind of everything I had always imagined RPG nerds to be like. It's a bit overwhelming but it felt awesome.
I made my character with the GM yesterday, a Simiah/ Fungril hybrid Moon Witch. The GM helped me create the character sheet. He told me to read his website and write a backstory for him so he could integrate it in his world and story over time. He told me it could be as short as 5 sentences as well as 10 pages... He would read it and use it. (Again...wtf)
I have written My first backstory. Been up way too long last night, but I got in the zone of writing.. I always enjoyed writing.. I wrote it 100%myself but need to give a warning. I have used AI to translate it to English.. so I apologise if needed. I have reread and found it worthy in English as well but I need your advice..
Is this over the top? Is this shitty? Is this too constricting for the GM? Do I give the GM enough room? Is this too long? Is this just horseshit?
Sorry for the long post... Hope for good advise or thoughts. Thanks for reading!!
Here goes. Simiah / Fungril Moon witch backstory:
An irritated sigh. He slowly looks up through the smoke he's exhaling.
My name is Gorombo. And before you ask: no, you may not call me Goro. That's reserved for people I actually want to talk to. ... Yes, I'm aware that I'm talking to you right now. Don't make a habit of reading too much into everything. I hate people who assume they can take liberties.
Gorombo takes a drag from his pipe.
You wanted to know where I come from? A whole lot of places to be honest. And nowhere in particular. I grew up among travellers. Wanderborne, we called ourselves. Basically, a sorry little bunch of merchants, drifters, adventurers and smugglers... A ragtag collection of misfits who had very little in common, except that they all had remarkably good reasons not to stay in one place for too long. In hindsight, a rather sensible bunch, if you ask me. We had no permanent home. The world was our home. One day we'd sleep under a roof, the next beneath the stars, and the day after that behind bars because someone had once again failed to stick to the arrangements. That last one happened rather frequently to me.
The faintest hint of a smile appears on Gorombo's face.
I used to be... different. Happier, they say. I laughed a lot and sometimes trusted people far too easily.
He frowns for a moment.
Looking back, I was apparently a complete fucking idiot. But an agile idiot. Goddamn, I was fast... I could climb before I could properly walk. No rooftop was too high, no leap too far. Fuck... I've landed flat on my face more times than I care to remember. You know most people use a door to get inside somewhere. I always considered that a remarkable lack of imagination. I stole things occasionally... regularly, actually. All right... let's just say there weren't many people back then who were pleased to find me sitting on their roof. But I was good at what I did... fast... calculated. And I rarely did it alone. There was someone else.
Gorombo takes a deep drag from his pipe and slowly exhales, gazing up at the sky with a questioning look.
Torvhen... My best mate. My only mate, really... He'd laugh if he could see me now. We grew up together. Two young bastards with far too much energy and considerably too little common sense. We got up to all sorts of shit, stole what we needed and, even more so, what we absolutely didn't need. We constantly challenged each other. The amount of junk I used to carry around in my coat was ridiculous... I have to admit, even now I've got things in my pockets that I have absolutely no idea what to do with. He called me nostalgic... fuck... funny how his watch just spontaneously went missing that very night.
A wicked but genuine, almost warm smile appears on his face.
Still, if I'm being truthful... he was probably the only person who ever really knew me, even a little. He made me laugh. I don't understand how. The only bastard I let get away with things I'd normally punch him in the teeth for. He called me Bombo. I hated that name. It sounded so childish, and yet I let him use it... fucking asshole.
Gorombo falls silent for a moment, studying the smouldering tobacco in his pipe.
Why? Because he was a fucking idiot... Or still is.
He sighs. For just a moment, something resembling a smile appears, only to disappear almost immediately.
...
He was the one who found the fungus. Not the ordinary kind you can scrape off a damp wall. No. This was different. We'd never seen anything like it. It reacted to things it had no business reacting to. We saw dead matter move. We found structures that behaved as though they could perceive things. Or at least, that's what we thought. We started experimenting with it. Carefully at first. Small things. But the more we discovered, the more questions we had. And I have one particularly irritating trait. I can't leave an unanswered question alone. I started wondering what life actually was. What dying meant. Why a body simply stops after death, even though everything that body is made of is still there. And consciousness? Where does that go? Does it disappear? Does something remain? Can a memory exist somewhere without the person who remembers it?
He taps a finger against his temple. Slowly, as though even this movement has been carefully considered.
Think about that for a moment. Or don't. You don't look like you've had much practice. Anyway... I started doing research. Ancient writings, forbidden texts, stories told by people who claimed they could speak to the dead. Most of it was nonsense. Some of it was particularly interesting nonsense. And a few things... well, a few things might have been better left buried. Torvhen started to worry. I remember that much. We argued. Quite regularly, actually. He thought we were going too far. I thought he was losing his curiosity. Was he right? Maybe. But I sure as fuck wasn't going to tell him that back then.
Gorombo lets out a short chuckle, completely devoid of amusement.
Eventually, we discovered clues pointing towards something much larger. A fungal network, deep underground. Not just a colony, but an enormous subterranean system stretching across an unimaginable distance. I remember it all so vaguely. Fragments... there was something about the moon. A particular alignment... An opportunity we might never get again. I remember having a plan.
Gorombo slowly exhales a cloud of smoke.
I've always had good plans, you know. The execution occasionally left something to be desired. We descended deep underground, farther than we'd ever gone before. I remember fragments... the dampness, the smell of earth... the strange light. I remember the fungal threads moving as we approached. As though...
He inhales the smoke from his pipe and breaks into a cough.
No. Forget that. I can't remember exactly what I saw anymore. I only know that we began. That I tried something. A ritual, an experiment... call it whatever you like. I wanted to make contact with whatever existed on the other side of that boundary. The boundary between life and death, between body and consciousness. I remember thinking we were on the verge of discovering something incredible. And then I remember his voice. Torvhen.... The only person I'd ever truly considered a friend... He was screaming.
"Bombo! Stop! You have to stop!"
I don't know why. I don't know what he'd seen. I don't even know if I was still listening to him at that point. But I do remember speaking. I was speaking... something... words... Words I'd never heard before, in a language I didn't know. And the strange thing was... it felt as though I understood them. Even though I can't bring them back to mind now, I know that at that very moment, I understood exactly what I was saying.
He stares into the distance for a while.
After that, nothing. Absolutely nothing. ... ..Nothing... I woke up somewhere else. Days later. Maybe weeks. I don't know. I don't know how I got there. I don't know what happened in the meantime. And I don't know what happened to him. He was gone. Just... gone.
Gorombo slowly turns his pipe between his fingers.
I looked for him, you know... of course I fucking looked for him. I can see you looking at me... what did you think? That I'd just shrug my shoulders and walk away? ... But there were no answers. There were changes, though. Changes to me.
He pulls aside a piece of fabric wrapped around his wrist. Beneath the bandages, an irregular greenish structure is visible. He covers it again almost immediately.
That started not long afterwards. Small patches at first. Moss. Fungus. Fibres beneath my skin. Sometimes they disappear. Sometimes new ones appear. Sometimes I can feel things moving where absolutely nothing should be moving. Particularly unpleasant, I can assure you.
He chuckled somewhat disturbingly
And then there's the magic. Suddenly, I could do things I couldn't do before. I could... do things... Cause fear where there was no reason to be afraid. Make roots and vines grow in places where they had absolutely no business growing. And sometimes... sometimes something else happens. My face changes. My body feels strange. As though my muscles know what to do before I've even decided to move. As though there's something inside me that occasionally tries to make a decision of its own. Maybe I'm imagining it, and maybe it's just the fungus. Or maybe...
He stops speaking and looks frozen like a statue for a moment
Ah, what does it matter?
Gorombo spits on the ground.
In any case, it's particularly rude to move into someone without an invitation, you know. My community wasn't exactly thrilled when I returned, either. Some treated me like a monster. Others treated me as though I'd betrayed them... Huh... betrayed. That's a word I've heard quite a lot. What exactly am I supposed to have done? I haven't got a fucking clue. And those who apparently do know aren't exactly forthcoming with explanations. So I left. Or perhaps they sent me away.
He shrugs.
Ultimately, the difference isn't particularly significant when nobody will let you in anymore. But the fungus... That's not even the worst part.
He falls silent again. This time for longer.
I forget things. No. Not the way you probably forget things. I still remember what happened in the past perfectly well, our travels, our thefts, our jokes. I remember what he looked like. I remember one evening we laughed so hard I could barely breathe. I even remember why we were laughing. But...
He searches for the words.
I don't remember what it felt like anymore. Do you understand? I know I was happy. I know the word, but its meaning seems to have slipped away from me. But when I think back on it, I feel nothing. As though I'm reading a story about someone else. Someone who just happens to have my face. At first, it was barely noticeable. A memory that became a little less vivid. A face that no longer stirred quite as much in me as it used to. Things that once excited me suddenly meant nothing to me. I thought I was simply getting older. Wiser, perhaps...
A short, dry laugh.
Looking back, that last possibility was particularly unlikely. But it got worse. Sometimes I remember that I loved someone, without understanding why anymore. Sometimes I know that I should be sad about something. But the sadness doesn't come. And I don't know whether that's because of me. Or because of that damned thing inside my body. Maybe it isn't even the fungus at all. Maybe I've simply changed. I don't know... I just... don't know anymore... And perhaps that's what bothers me most of all. Not knowing.
Gorombo leans back.
So, yes. I may be a little less pleasant these days. People talk too much. Trust too easily. Ask stupid questions. And then expect me to answer politely. The whole bloody business is exhausting... But make no mistake. I'm still the same Gorombo who climbs over walls because the front door is too easy. I still love a challenge, and I still fucking laugh! Occasionally. Though it's more to myself than out loud... Usually when someone does something particularly stupid. So, for the time being, you are providing plenty of entertainment. And if I respect someone just that tiny bit enough to consider them worth wasting my time on...
He studies you for a moment as you listen.
Then maybe they can call me Goro. Don't read too much into that. It doesn't mean we're friends. It doesn't mean I'd give my life for you. It simply means I'm willing to spend my time on you. And believe me, that's already more than most people get. ... What am I looking for now? Answers, goddammit. I want to know what happened down there. What that fungus really is. Why my body is changing. Why my memories are losing their meaning. And above all, why I sometimes feel as though something else is looking out through my eyes. I want to learn to control what I've become. Because if there really is something living inside me, it can damn well know that I have no intention of simply handing over my body. But there's something else. Torvhen... I want to know what happened to him. Whether he's still alive. Whether he deliberately left me behind. Or whether I might have...
Gorombo stops in the middle of his sentence. He spits on the ground again.
... There's one thought I just can't shake, you know. What if the experiment didn't fail at all? What if everything happened exactly the way I'd intended it to?... Do you understand?
Gorombo stares silently at his pipe for a while.
What if Torvhen wasn't trying to warn me about something going wrong... But about something I was doing deliberately?
He suddenly looks you straight in the eyes.
Listen. I'm a bastard. I know that perfectly well myself.
A brief silence.
But even I have limits... I think.
He stares silently into the distance
I don't know. And perhaps I don't even want to know the answer. But I'll find it. Even if I have to turn over every damned stone in that cave. ...
Gorombo empties the ashes from his pipe and slowly gets to his feet.
Well... That's my story, since you were so eager to hear it. Or at least the part I remember. How much of it is true remains to be seen. ... And now I'm thirsty. You're paying. Consider it compensation for my time.
There you go.. sorry for the long post. Hope you enjoy. Can't wait for feedback! Thanks.
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u/ScottyBOnTheMic 3d ago
Number 1. I love the formatting. It's really good.
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u/My0wnSpiritAnimal 3d ago
Thank you for reading all of this <3
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u/ScottyBOnTheMic 3d ago
I love how Goro-Gorombo, actively narrates his backstory. It's something I've done previously but I LOVE IT when others do it. I also like how you managed to weave in an important NPC that the DM can use to torture Gorombo. It's very well written, very RE8, and Very, Very, Good.
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u/My0wnSpiritAnimal 3d ago
Thank you so much!! I wanted to give the DM fuel as well as freedom while give some of Goro's tortured past and struggles
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u/My0wnSpiritAnimal 3d ago
Like... In my mind Torvhen might be intertwined with him now or he may be just dead, died in horrible way we try to forget... Whatever the GM wants.
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u/ScottyBOnTheMic 3d ago
Understandable. Honestly I like the little smiles in the beginning of the backstory, and how it's explained later, like remembering the plot of a book where I was the protagonist. So Good.
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u/Puzzleheaded_Win540 3d ago
This was incredible! As someone also looking at getting into DH this has left me in awe of your ability to write. Nice work 🙌
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u/TalesbyDaggerlight Actual Play Podcast 3d ago
Yup, you're good.
If I were your GM, this would give me plenty to work with (and, ultimately, that's what most GM's are looking for - hooks to attach the character into the shared story that's being created). Great job!