#character origin

I'm pretty much never making a 5e race option homebrew ever again. Why? Because it's a waste of time. I've already pretty much made all of them. Don't believe me? Screw you I spent three days writing out tables and systems for this.

It's a whole freaking system for making character origin options. If you are a GM and you are tired of your players coming up to you before a new campaign and half-jokingly going, "hey I found this Saiyan race option I'd like to use I promise it's not OP." Spike that player's face into the cheeto bowl. Make your own origin for them to satisfy their requests using this doc. They don't like it? Give them a point allowance to build their own using this doc. You wanna make a custom character origin option for your homebrew setting that matches an existing power scaling and set of abilities? USE THIS DOC. Takes like 5 minutes tops (assuming you don't read through literally everything).

No more janky character origin homebrews from the dark corners of the internet!

Joseph: Human, Blonde hair, Age 29, 6'0, He/him, (Married to Rudy)

Rudy: Werewolf, Blue hair, Age 30, 6'3, He/Him, (Married to Joseph)

Kæmpe Stor: Giant, Brown hair, Age 5, 10'1, He/him

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Before Stor was adopted, he was underfed and wore rags because the orphanage couldn’t properly feed or clothe a growing giant child.

He was found alone, sleeping on the doorstep of the orphanage. No note. No parent. No one knows how he ended up there, giants don’t live anywhere near the nation of Noma.

He was very quiet and kept to himself. Most people were afraid of him, since giants were belived to be dangerous, though no one has ever seen a giant other than Stor.

One day: the newlyweds, Joseph and Rudy, came to adopt a child. Joseph fell in love with Stor immediately. Rudy was a little more hesitant, thinking of the financial difficulties that would come with raising a giant. That is until…

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Stor: Mr. Rudy, What’s a zoo?

Rudy: It’s a place they keep animals, why do you ask?

Stor: Oh, I heard the nuns talking to a man about taking me to live there. Do you think they'll have purple elephants like in my storybook, Mr. Rudy?

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*In the Orphanage office*

Joseph: THEY’RE GOING TO DO WHAT?!???

Rudy: Yes! I couldn’t believe it either when the kid told me! (To the Nuns) Please tell us this is a sick joke.

Nun 1: …I’m afraid it isn’t… it’s true, they are planning to take young Stør… to live in a Zoo...

Rudy: Who is “they?”

Nun 2: The government… we can’t afford to keep him here…

Joseph: So they’re gonna put him in a zoo?! Like he’s some kind of freak?! An Animal!? He’s only five years old!

Nun 1: Yes, he’s a child… but he’s gonna keep growing… We are having enough trouble feeding the other orphans here, let alone a rapidly growing giant… we can’t afford for him to live here.

Nun 2: At the zoo, he’ll be well taken care of, well fed, and maybe he’ll be happier--

Rudy: What can we do to prevent this?

Joseph: Rudy, what are you—

Rudy: I’ll do anything for that kid.

Nun 1: He has no family to step in and stop this… no real home… no clothes, shelter or food…

Rudy: If we could give him these right now, would it change this? A home, food, shelter… a family, would it change?

Joseph: Rudy! Do you mean it?!

Nun 2: Well… you will have to prove you have suitable arrangements for his needs. And you would need to become his legal guardians… But yes. I will support you in every way possible.

Rudy: Then let’s get our son out of here.

Joseph: (runs and jumps into his husband’s arms) Oh, Rudy! Thank you! Thank you! (Kisses him on the mouth) Lets get our baby boy home!

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Eyes drifted open, vision blurred, mind sluggish. The world that was coming into focus was not one she recognised. She flexed to move, sinew and bronze scales atwist. Great wings unfurled, spanning almost the breadth of the cell she occupied.

The pieces were still there, at least. She was still Dracthyr. An evoker, no less. An apex dragonkiller; pride of the weyrn. Though - the weyrn - which weyrn? Somehow this thread of memory eluded her. A simple fact. Focus. Recall –

Though many Shadowbugs have litters of 4-6 Shadowbabies, the record-setter for this hails from the land of ire.

For her first litter, this individual (Maureen) spawned twelve little ankle-nibblers. Unfortunately, only half of the litter made it to adulthood. Though, one of the fully-grown babies (Iris) remained with Maureen and her mate (Clover).

With her second (and final) litter later down the line, things got a bit interesting. Maureen did not spawn a huge litter, but instead spawned a single baby: a Shadowblob baby. With his vicious appetite and extremely playful demeanor, he was bestowed with the perfect name: Nibbles.

Having an older sister and two parents, Nibbles grew up to be a happy, healthy bean. As he grew up, this lovable lug never lost the sweet playful baby side, which made him quite a charmer even when his family made their way to the United States and met unfamiliar people. Even after Clover and Maureen passed away, Nibbles was still an innocent bean that would comfort and empathize with Iris.

"Existence is chaos."

Summary: She’d been free, and then she’d been taken. She moved the wind, she made the wind, she was the wind.

Also read on: AO3

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Once upon a time, humans believed that all things had spirits.

Every tree, every flower, every mountain, every stream and lake and river…

Even the wind.

They were right.

The world teemed with life that most mortal beings would never see, and though some humans the world over continued to revere the invisible Souls of the Earth, many moved their reverence to the gods who made them instead.

But still the souls lingered, thriving in the rushing of water, the branching of tree canopies, the softness of grass, playing and running and laughing and living.

Some were as brief as a spring flower, some eternal as a mountain, but they had their place and played their part, living in perfect harmony, in synch with the ebb and flow of mortal life around them.

They were free.

The freest beings in the universe, free of the conventions of man or the expectations of yokai, they expressed every emotion they had without restraint.

But none so much as the wind.

The wind blew hard or soft or fast or slow, a contingent of happy souls following their currents, writhing together to move the trees, the waves, the seeds, even hair and clothes and leaves and stems.

The wind was sisters, sisters who giggled past ears like a sigh, brushed through hair to admire its softness, tangled together in endless heaps of giggling happiness, unfettered, unconfined, uninhibited.

They saw everything as they raced across the surface of the earth, traveled on the wings of birds, rushed through rising tides, and stormed past mortal houses.

They whispered their secrets and screamed their rage and laughed out their joy, moving all in existence with every breath they took.

It was a bright day, the kind the wind loves, with sun warmed grass to breeze through and fragrant flowers to whip up and relish when the wind was no longer free.

A swirling, elated mass of transparent souls whispered across the meadow, giddy as they communed with the nature souls, when one was snatched away.

She screamed for her sisters who rushed to her aid, but the wind has no hands to grab, to swords to wield, no feet to run, and when the Magics that took their sister disappeared in a streak of vile, black smoke, the dispersed in alarm.

The little wind soul wilted.

To live, wind must move, and there is always somewhere to go.

But the bubble of darkness she was trapped in was too small, too tight, too dark, nothing like the bright clearings or dense forests or raging oceans she was used too.

She was being snuffed out. So much still to do and see so many sisters still to love, and her life was being strangled baby something she couldn’t even see.

Between one breath and the next, she knew nothingness…

And then she knew pain.

She gasped in a deep, painful breath, new, empty lungs burning, screaming in protest, foreign limbs and muscles aching to move in ways she didn’t understand, and then a dark chuckle chilled her colder than winter.

“Ah, you have awakened.”

He knelt down, red eyes gleaming evilly as he stared at her.

He helped her sit up, held out a mirror, and she gasped again when she saw what looked back at her.

A face.

A mortal face, with eyes like roses and skin like snow, stared at her from within the glass.

She’d tried to see in one of these before, like the mortals she followed to ruffle their sleeves, and had seen all of nothing.

The wind wasn’t bound by bodies or forms.

But she lifted her hand, touched her cheek, stared in disbelief as the woman in the mirror reflected every move she made.

She shook her head, felt her eyes burn as liquid fell hot from them and traced down her cheeks.

And the man spoke again.

“Hello Kagura.” He purred, and she jolted. Was that her name? That’s not what her sister’s had called her. “I have given you form, a real body to live in, crafted from my very own flesh. Isn’t it lovely? You’ll have freedom to taste, touch, love. And in exchange, you need only serve me as your master.”

“Freedom?” She asked, confused by his offer. She had been free. Free and happy and alive. This body was painful, small, limited in what it could do and feel.

And she knew something about it was missing.

The man who sat before her smirked.

“Yes. I have gifted you true life and freedom. To keep it, I demand your allegiance.”

She seethed, rage burning hotter than the summer sun, but her new body struggled to contain it.

“You have taken my freedom and offer me a mockery in exchange. Why would I serve a fool such as you?”

He smiled, anger and hatred boiling in his red eyes as he reached behind him for a clay jar. He thrust his hand inside and squeezed something, and blinding pain bloomed throughout her body.

She fell back to floor and screamed until her throat was raw and bloody, begging him to stop, and when he did he grabbed her chin and forced her to behold him in all his vengeful glory.

“That, my dearest Kagura, was you heart. If you do not serve me, then I will destroy it, and with it, all your hopes of freedom and happiness. Are we understood? You will happily serve me, or you will die. You. Are. Mine.”

She gasped for breath as her hope curdled into searing anger.

This wouldn’t be the first time mortals tried to entice the wind. They would often hang colorful bits of paper or fabric to trees and houses, and she and her sisters would brush through them in delight.

Never before had she heard of one trying to imprison the wind.

Oh yes, he was a fool. She would make him an example. None would be so brave again.

And she was not his.

“No.” She struggled to speak through her ruined throat, voice hoarse and strangled.