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Eirik 'the Regretful' Thornson. A retired viking who spends his days crafting various implements, toys and statues from wood. Has his old broken sword hung above the mantlepiece.

Has no wife or kids (or at least no living ones, you can choose of he had them in the past), but loves his nephew very much and is somewhat of a grandfather figure to him (tells him stories, takes care of him when his parents are away, etc.).

I'm interested to see what you'll do with one of my established characters.

His name is Drowl, previously viewed as a villain for wanting an empire. By this point in the story he's succeeded and goes by the name of 'Lord Drowl'. He's aggressive, but caring, kind and passionate, determined to be a fair and just ruler, like he promised the former hero and his now second-in-command, Naytar. In this universe superpowers don't exist. The most important thing is Drowl's reason for wanting an empire - he had been constantly bullied by his father, who was ruler of a kingdom, and his older brother, Daniel, who was next-in-line. Drowl was still ready and willing to support Daniel when he takes the throne, but the straw that broke the camel's back was his brother telling him that he's worthless and will never be as great as him. Drowl swore on that day that Daniel was right, he wouldn't be as good; he'd be even better. While I HAVE the defining moment, I never wrote a proper backstory. What did the conflicts look like? What made that one statement so painful? Why was Drowl previously still prepared to support Daniel? I have the backstory, but I never wrote the script.

Calanthe Rhodes is a talented magician living in Alexandria in the future (3032). He's a mindrender: able to replace thoughts in people's heads with no ones, able to open the door to everyone's mind and fiddle about like a mouse running through a maze in search for the cheese. However, Calanthe is still in school where other magicians attend, but he knows that he is the most powerful telepath to walk the planet. He isn't evil or malevolent, but he wants to make it known that he is a powerful mindrender: how he does so is up to you.

Ella is an early career research scientist. She's hardworking and ambitious, but she struggles with imposter syndrome.

I'll give you two so you can choose

1 Chrisabelle Anderson The oldest character I desgined. Easily identifiable with her dark brown hair tied up in a half-up, half-down hairstyle and her waiscoat and denim cliffon with light brown cowboy boots.

She's a former popular kid who gave up on the popularity race and spends time now mostly with her best friend, who is not that promiment in the social stage. Her personality is kind, helpful and wise.

2 Jean the dragon Don't let her large black scaly body and emerald green eyed fool you, she's actually a realy nice dragon. Living on a hoard made from her pretending to be human merchant for 50 years, she usually deals with intruders fairly and is friends with a knight named Sir Warren.

Her pesonality is emotional like a teenage girl, a talented accountant, and loyal

(Last seen taking one of the two princesses of the nearby kingdom)

3 Lissandra the Scholarly dragon

A young blue dragon, she is sister to Jean and is remarked for sparing bards and mages from partys in exchange for information and tales, which she magically enters into a leather book.

Her personality is proud, careless and flirtatious.

(Hasn't been found in her cave for a while, the hoard is warded with a dancing curse)

Now 1 and 2 have fairly well done backstories by me (I should work a bit more on 1s backstory though), so I'm curious what someone else might interpret thier backstory but 3 doesn't

Good luck and if you need anything on the characters, just drop a message

Caper is a cyborg that was outfitted with a very extensive suite of augmentations to let her carry out dangerous maintenance and mech support. Her ‘job’ is, naturally, keeping an aging space station in a workable condition. She doesn’t remember anything about herself from before she was augmented, and has recurring feelings of guilt for replacing whoever she used to be.

In a world where everybody can develop and slowly grow their superpowers, most of the truly influential people in the world are strong, and the strong tend to be open about it. Celebrities, politicians, nobles, all stand at the top of the world in precarious game of trying to balance this mess of keeping everybody with powers in check and not exploding the world or something.

But then, there's people like Rhodes, who likes to stay under the radar. Rhodes is strong. But Rhodes is also a janitor, which culture declares should be far beneath his station.

Rhodes is a pretty tired and stubborn guy who simply refused to quit his job after he got superpowers. He's been there for years. He's good where he is. Sure, he occasionally has to clean up murders these days but all's in a Tuesday.

Erik’s mug looked more like a pot than a cup, and it was full to the brim with golden ale. Greta could hear his raucous laughter now and again, and his thick palm would slap one or two of the youngsters gathered around him on the back. And she would hide a smile when she saw them wince. Though painful, his blows on their bodies were nothing compared to what Erik’s powerful hands were capable of.

The afternoons were cold but Erik was a creature of ritual. After carving tools or toys in the morning, he would sit at the same table and have a drink at midday, before heading back into the workshop. His nephew Bjorn, now his apprentice, was always with him. And he would regale the raven-haired, pale youth with stories from his past. And on occasion, a crowd would gather.

The old Viking ran his chunky fingers through his greying beard, his fingers stopping at the rings he used to hold it together. It looked like a furry rope. And when he spoke the ground rumbled.

“Have you ever wondered how my sword broke?” he asked, looking at no one.

Greta gasped, the jug in her hand spilling the wine she was pouring. She’d been pretending not to listen as she served drinks but she couldn’t help herself. No one could, and Erik’s audience was suddenly the whole tavern. This was a story he had never told. Everyone had wondered what had happened that fateful day when a band of warriors had departed but only Erik had returned.

Greta could see the tears beginning to pool in the warrior’s eyes. No one else would notice them, but she had known Erik for a very long time. She caught a glimpse of her weathered face in one of the glasses. She was starting to wrinkle but her eyes were still as clear as they’d always been, and an intense blue, almost violet.

As Erik began to speak, she thought of a different day. Erik just returned from battle and the village was in mourning. She remembered the dread in her legs as she approached the wooden shack at the edge of the village. Trees were scattered around it, all full of luminous green leaves. Birds were in full song, flowers in full bloom, and the woods were teeming with sound. Spring had arrived, but in her heart was the ice of winter.

She was a step away from the door when a growl made the hairs on her arms stand. She’d seen what he’d done to all the people who’d come before her. He’d been welcomed like a hero before everyone realised only he had returned. Erik the giant with hands of stone. Erik the proud who stood like a mountain amongst men. Erik whose scarred face and bowed head told a story no one needed to hear.

He'd struck Darius first. She’d seen him flying across the square from the force of the blow. And then Micah, then Thomas, before everyone just let him pass. The returning hero who wanted to be left alone. He’d built the cabin and retreated to the woods. Erik the Strong had gone to war but Erik the Regretful had returned instead.

“It’s me, Erik,” Greta yelled, “Are you going to throw me down the hill like you did Marius?”

Greta was shivering and her legs were knocking into each other.

There was a long silence and then there was movement inside. The sun was hidden behind a cushion of clouds. It would have been perfect weather for the many picnics, she’d shared with Erik as they grew up.

Greta took a step backward as the door of the shack creaked open. Greta was hugging her arms closer now, wondering if she’d made a mistake. Lunacy everyone had said.

“You broke his leg, Erik,” Greta started, as the Viking’s face emerged from the shadows, “Marius can’t work for a few weeks, and his family might starve.”

The normally tanned face was white, like pure snow. And his piercing green eyes had dulled. His hollow cheeks made him appear gaunt. Like a man haunted by the spirits.

He stepped out of the house and despite the alluring scents of spring lingering in the woodland, his stench was overwhelming.

Greta took a breath as her eyes watered.

“I’m not afraid of you Erik. Are you going to throw me and your kin down the hill?”

She could see he’d heard the words but he was slow to process them.

“My only brother died in my arms, Greta. Do you come here to torment me with talk of the dead,” he finally said, barely a whisper.

Greta was emboldened because he hadn’t shown any anger towards her, but he’d kindled her rage with his words.

“And what of your brother’s wife? Do you think it was food that made her belly so round? Have you also lost your memory along with your sanity, Erik” she spat out.

He let out a low growl and, with panic, she thought she’d gone too far. His face was reddening and she could see a glint of anger in the dead eyes.

“She died in childbirth,” Greta added, speaking fast, “A boy. He looks just like Magnus.”

She opened her arms to reveal the bundle that had been wiggling inside her coat.

Erik’s jaw dropped.

“Magnus,” he said, looking to the ground, ignoring the child.

“I don’t care what happened in the battle. Everyone lost someone. But you’re the only warrior we have left. The young men have no one to train them and we will perish if anyone raids again. You’ve been locked in her for six months, dispatching men you once called friends as if they were enemies. I’ve been looking after your blood for the last year. But I’m giving you a week to move back into the village and come and collect him. Otherwise, the son of a Viking will be raised by strangers whilst his own blood wallows in his mess like a pig.”

Greta’s heart was beating so fast, it was threatening to escape her chest, but her fury made her numb to fear. Erik the Regretful was a taker of lives, but she’d known him well once. Before the battle, they might even have been something more between them.

Erik didn’t speak but instead shuffled back into his shack and slammed the door. Greta stared at the door for a short while, before tucking the child back into her bosom, and heading back to the village. She wasn’t sure if he’d heard her, but she knew she had to try. For everyone’s sake.

Erik’s voice in the tavern shook her back from the past. He turned to glance at her, as he spoke about the battle for the first time in 16 years. She caught his eye and smiled. He nodded and continued to speak. Erik had come to her house in exactly a week, picked up the little bundle, which was now drinking ale with the men, and left.

Erik had never thanked her, at least not until now.

Fordrett a robot that is created by robots to defend Earth from an alien invasion. They spend their entire life fighting against the neverending alien hordes and everytime they die they are revived in a new body.

Everytime they die, they have different personalities and traits like one of their life is that they are bloodthirsty. The other life is that they are friendly.

Sofie Littleton, she’s a wannabe “Nancy Drew”. She’s has quick wit, smart as could be, and while she might be a journalist, she plays detective on the low. She’s young but mature, a product of her addict parents leaving her alone a lot. There’s depth to her. Recently she’s been using alcohol to cope with past traumas, and has a choice to make. She can either become an alcoholic, or open up to a colleague she’s in love with and get the help she needs.

Dave Thompson Tradie by day, Shadier Tradie by night. Dave works as a carpenter for a big construction firm, however by night he works as protection for a cartel boss, and owner of a significant nightclub. He fights using a sledgehammer, and as such has earned the name Dave-o The Smasher.

Pellaroma Von Karlstein, a raven haired-red eyed princess who usually works behind the scenes to get what she wants, but usually leaves the overt power to her more known brother.

Despite the outward narcissistic personality, she has learned to slowly open her horizons up, and cares for her bodyguard, Morganna.

Talique, a british rock soloist who spent his life surrounded by the supernatural. he's calm and fun, often reflecting this in his music.

Aaron Holden

Superhero (former supervillain)

He will go to great lengths to repay the kindness of others.

Dr Drew, a 70ish year old scientist. They worked for the last 40ish years on a particular idea, some groundbreaking thing, only to find out that their breakthrough will never come. They were singularly focused, worked all hours in pursuit of their dream. Everything else gave way to that drive.

Hope it proves interesting or inspiring for you.

Karl ("Yes, it's Karl as in Marx, not as in Jung") is an aspiring poet with lank hair and bad posture. He dreams of being published in The New Yorker but, no matter how hard he tries, everything he writes comes out in rhyming couplets.

Michael was as boring as a boring person could be. On weekdays, he'd got out of bed, brushed his teeth, read the paper with breakfast (Stocks prices? Stuff and nonsense. Nobody sensible would meddle with that) , drove to work in their reliable (if slightly scratched) Ford taking the same route he'd been taking for 20 years (The neighbours bins are still out. Why can't they bring them in when everybody else does? ) to his job at the ceral factory maintaining the machinery.

Everything had to be done just so, so the machines could work the way they should. A place for everything and everything in it's place, that's how he liked it.

I have a recurring character in my stories called Damian Daniel Drake. He is the most powerful Superhero in my "universe". He is called "The Lovecraftian".He is the leader of the "Justice Union" a group of superheroes who do not affiliate themselves with any political party or ideology. "Never mix the Superhero duties with politics. Whatever your personal beliefs are, you leave them in the dressing room when you put on your mask."

However, he has a rather controversial flaw. Let's just say, he choose "Lovecraftian" as a name for two reasons, and only one of them can be linked to his reality-distorting powers.He is a racist who hates black people. Despite this the Justice Union has many black members; you see, Damian sees himself as a superhero first and a person second.

Funnily enough, there is only one person in the whole union, who he actively "socializes" with. This person is a fellow superhero, called The Earthen; a black man in his late 30s. Most of the time they just play chess together and talk. I somewhat based their relationship on Daryl Davis' relationship with an Ex KKK member named Roger Kelly.

If you think you can give said character justice, I am eager to read it.

Titan, a lesser god who, despite his status, is unable to use his own magic. He can only use the magic of the elder gods, gifted to him when he was inaugurated as a lesser god.

Despite this, he strives to improve the life of his world by progressing the technology of the civilization, integrating magic with whatever non-magical knowledge he discovers along with his fellow gods.

Agent Quil. A field agent for the Department of Demi-Humans(DDH), a government agency like that of the FBI or CIA but for paranormal beings who are still tax-paying citizens, with his partner Agent Smith.

Agent Quil is completely mundane. All human and nothing but human. His physical prowess is equal only to his mental stupidity and tolerance for pain. His partner isn't very impressive either except for his skills with a revolver and ability to not get outsmarted by a rock. Still, they are one of the most successful duos in the department due to their furious fighting style they call "Punk Tactics" which follows three core tenets: Hit Them Hard, Hit Them Fast, Hit Them Dirty.

I guess this is more of a twofer, but something I hold hard to is that all DDH agents have partners, and these two are my favorite character concept, and would like to see an outside interpretation of them.

Uhg, the tribal hunter. While being somewhat antisocial, he is very skilled with his spear. He can work well with his hunting group, but he can not stand incompetence.

Eleonora Larenthal. She's currently learning swordsmanship at a fairly prestigious college. She is incredibly timid and shy.

Holton Graves, an outlaw turned bounty hunter. Has a troubled past, and is now trying to do right (after that pivotal life moment which you'll write hopefully! :) ). Seeks redemption, and for self-forgiveness. Drinks whiskey and smokes. Cowboy in the wild west, or a cyberpunk future space cowboy/bounty hunter, up to you. Personality: rough and brusque on the outside but is actually kind and considerate underneath it all. Prefers to show through his actions rather than superfluous words.

[removed]

Vardayus Kummel, youngest (and to his mind, only, due to his elder brother being adopted) son of High Judge Vorik Kummel and priest to the God of Law, Justice, and Retribution. He's a very no nonsense man, who believes the law is clear in all things and believes exceptions to be little more than excuses and the weakness of those charged with upholding the law made manifest. He's slowly becoming disillusioned with The Church, believing it to not be harsh enough with those who would transgress against the law.

The VIP: An old "villain". He is an eccentric millionaire who has a penchant for fighting superpowered people using advanced technology he developed. He only joined the side of the villains because heroes make for more honorable opponents. After years of searching he has finally found a hero that is willing to play along and be his sparring partner. Although he is no hero, when shit truly hits the fan he will do the right thing.

Araceli is a void demon* child with a significant portion of her wings ripped off (it will take months before they regrow).

Occupation: Officially, she's traveling the realms alone as part of a coming of age trial. Unofficially, she's in search of vengeance on the wizard who destroyed her house.

Personality: Stubborn, Rarely treats anyone with respect, but since she's quiet (or rather, she's forced to use sign language because no one understands eldritch screeching), they often don't notice until it's too late.

*The void consists of pockets of extra-dimensional spaces between different realms.

Void Demons: think wings which erupt from the back, highly toxic blood, hollow bones, above average strength, hoofed feet etc.

Love it! You did a splendid job!

Pantokrator of Pergamum, a vocalist and also a death domain cleric. Looks intimidating but has a heart of gold.

Diordo the Forgiving

A paladin for The Republic of Cronsonia

Grew up in a Christian family and fights for his god. He may seem insane, but that's just his dedication to his religion. He is most times selected by the king to lead an adventuring party through dangerous ruins or defeat pesky foes. He got his name from an adventure where he spared the man who murdered his father after "God gave him a sign" to not kill him: This will be the "Moment that shaped them"

Creed, willfully lonely gravekeeper that loves stories

Name: Oscar Harley

Age: 20

Occupation: College Student

Backstory: A young man from a poor household. His mother skipped out on him, his father, and his younger brother when he was little. Oscar's father broke contact with his family to be with Oscar's mom, and breaks his back just trying to keep them afloat and pay for Oscar's schooling. His son is eternally great full for it and got a part time job to help.

Personality: A pessimistic man who's acknowledged that the chances of him succeeding in life are little to none. All he wants is financial stability for his family and better grades.

Anura child of Styx. Trapped on an island in the middle of the ocean.

They’re a semi nice person, likes to read, doesn’t know how to swim. And loves sheep. Also they despise mint plants.

Wulzant Leanlaven, Cleric of Death and arch bishop of eternity, headmaster of an orphanage. A man as proud and vengeful as he is kind, patient, and willing to sacrifice every part of himself for the sake of everyone.

Emile Martens, a young man surviving in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. He was born mute, his parents and later his big sister died, raised by his criminally ill/abusive brother and was later adopted when said brother was murdered by his uncle. Safe to say he's not well in the head, but his adopted family raised him right.

Antimony Emberbloom is a young, nerdy gnome cleric living a life of adventure and serving Gond by making new friends and learning about them while sharing things she has learned. A jovial sort, her open-mindedness and easy acceptance of others has led her to befriend beings most would attack on sight. She was essentially home-schooled in a queer, polyamorous commune and is equal parts very educated on the infinite diversity of life and terribly naive and sheltered.

She is a gnome raised by two loving dads, a Tiefling and a Dwarf. Her dads also have adopted three older siblings (Takari, Abernathy and Jovi the bard) who struggle to not be too protective of their much tinier little sister.

Tara Butcher- Discovered a castle just to be killed.