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Description
Blace was always a cursed child, always alone, and always in a constant fight with himself. Blace was born with brown hair, but from the age of 4 it started growing in solid white, devoid of pigment. Soon a small set of pointed dog ears emerged on the top of his head, and within a month his real ears began to peel off down to stumps to the horror of his parents. His hearing faded for months while the new ones grew. They couldn't take it, and they abandoned him far away from home, claiming that there was a surprise waiting for him out there. With tear-stained eyes they tied him to a tree, fearing that he may follow them back.

While struggling with the ropes for days all he could think about was his parents, their faces, their laughter, and the times they spent together. He realized more and more that they weren't coming back as the hours and days rolled by. He felt so alone, but there was always a voice that comforted him, telling him to move to shake the ropes. He tried what the comforting voice was telling him, but the ropes burned his arms as he moved. When he refused from the pain the voice grew louder until he saw himself shaking the ropes until he bled a little. Eventually he shook free, unable to fight with the voice in exhaustion. He ran to a nearby pool of water. It looked clear, so he greedily drank until he felt alive again. The voice grew quiet, almost in a silent satisfaction.

The world was large, almost impossibly so, with forests that stretched endlessly, lakes that spanned as far as you can see, and fields so tall that you can't even see over it. It was a wonderland of experiences. He ate leaves, berries, bugs, and nearly whatever seemed like a good idea at the time. Sometimes he'd see a rabbit, or a small creature, and the voice screamed at him, demanding that he give chase to catch the little things. Blace toyed with the idea, and made a little game out of it. It was the most fun he had in a long time. One day he caught a rabbit, it felt fluffy and warm as it struggled to run. The voice shouted something too loud for Blace to understand, and without realizing it he crushed the rabbit between his hands, killing it. The suddenly immobile rabbit seemed so odd to him. His parents hunted, but those rabbits never moved like this one did a moment ago. The voice was deafening as he blindly raised the rabbit to his mouth, tearing into it with his small teeth. The strange texture of blood, fur, and uncooked meat swiftly filled his mind before he could realize it. It was terrifying, yet he was unable to stop himself. He broke into tears as he savagely devoured the helpless morsel. Blood spatted his hair and coated his face in a orangeish-red liquid.

He stared down at the bony remains of the rabbit feeling confused and ashamed. The voice inside him was quiet again, leaving him to his lonely shame as he uncomfortably picked bit of fur from his teeth with bloody hands. Upon seeing his hands he looked down to see that the blood spilled down the front of his shirt and pants, staining with brown clothes a bloody shade. Wanting to forget the horrible thing he did he ran into the nearest puddle deep enough to scoop water from. His reflection stared back at him with a trail of blood dripping from it's maw. He dipped his crimson hands into the water, turning the water the colour pink. He splashed the water onto his face, when the water dripped back into the puddle it returned more red than before. When he was done a red image of himself stood on the water, looking scared of what it saw. Blace ran, until he saw a sizable pond to jump into.

The days past slowly. He tried his best not to play with the rabbits in fear of having the voice come back, but it never worked. It always knew exactly when he spotted something small to eat, and it always tried to shout at Blace until he gave in. After the third time he lost control he began to realize exactly how little he controlled the monster inside him. It became a horrifying routine of seeing, giving chase, and occasionally eating. He just wanted it to stop.

One day he came across a sizable rabbit with an arrow in it. The urge to take it was overwhelming. Both he and the beast knew that the hunter would be nearby, but the monster took the chance anyways. Blace leaped from the bushes and dashed towards the rabbit, lifting it by the arrow lodged into the side of the animal. There was an elven figure in the clearing a good distance away, most certainly far enough away that he'd have no chance of catching up. Blace backtracked as fast as he could to a cave that he'd spent the night in a few days before. As he blindly started to gnaw at the brown furred his sane mind worried about the hunter. What if that elf tracked him down?

Sure enough the elf came to the cave with his bow drawn, and an arrow notched. He called out to Blace, shouting something about giving up the rabbit. Not having anywhere to go he stayed still, still chewing at the challenged meat. Blace was terrified of the elf, and he started pleading for his life between bites. When the elf got close enough to see what was going on he paused for a moment before dropping the arrow he notched. In a swift motion the elf drew an arrow from a second quiver. Blace winced as something hit him, knocking him out cold.

He woke up behind a set of steel bars on a bed. Looking around he could see that he was clearly in a small prison cell. Judging from the sounds of carts, people, and the odd instrument he could only guess that he was back in a town, and from the sounds of it it was bigger than his home village. An elven man looked up from a leatherbound book, surprised to see the boy moving. Blace had a worried look on his face. He knew that only bad people ended up in prison. The elf hastily explained to Blace that he was arrested for poaching; they wouldn't have accepted it if he wasn't covered in animal blood. It did little to calm Blace who started to breakdown into tears. The jailer just rolled his eyes and continued reading his book. The voice inside his head was quiet, but Blace could feel it's hatred for the man in the chair. A cold, unrelenting hate...

After a few days of being curled up in a cell with only plates of bland watery oats to eat the jailer brought Blace news, someone had come to visit him. Much to his surprise it wasn't his family, which dashed his hopes as quick as he made them. The mysterious man who came to visit was an elf with a large set of wings, and a set of claws that made the jailer shot a cautious glance at the man who merely attempted to calm the jailer with mixed success. The man turned to the little boy in the cell, introducing himself as Thoven in a heavy high elf accent.

The winged man started talking to Blace, asking him questions about the voices, and what it asked for in the past. The man shook his head when Blace started running on and on about his time in the forest, almost avoiding the question entirely. When Blace slipped up and mentioned the rabbits he grew quiet, but the man encouraged him to go on. Hesitantly he did, not leaving out any details, even mentioning having to pull the fur from his teeth. The jailer looked appalled hearing all this from a little child. After a few days, and several visits the sheriff allowed the man to take custody of Blace, assuming that Blace would agree. He did, and soon Thoven started teaching him both the ways of the scribe, and how to control the monster within himself.

After 13 years of training, meditation, and learning Blace set out to find his own place in the world. He had changed greatly since he was a child. He became less naive and more educated, but the voice within him never quieted. Always voicing it's opinion. Always seeking a violent solution to Blace's problems.

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This is all for my D&D character. I felt like posting his background with the picture. Let me know what you think.

Description
Blace was always a cursed child, always alone, and always in a constant fight with himself. Blace was born with brown hair, but from the age of 4 it started growing in solid white, devoid of pigment. Soon a small set of pointed dog ears emerged on the top of his head, and within a month his real ears began to peel off down to stumps to the horror of his parents. His hearing faded for months while the new ones grew. They couldn't take it, and they abandoned him far away from home, claiming that there was a surprise waiting for him out there. With tear-stained eyes they tied him to a tree, fearing that he may follow them back.

While struggling with the ropes for days all he could think about was his parents, their faces, their laughter, and the times they spent together. He realized more and more that they weren't coming back as the hours and days rolled by. He felt so alone, but there was always a voice that comforted him, telling him to move to shake the ropes. He tried what the comforting voice was telling him, but the ropes burned his arms as he moved. When he refused from the pain the voice grew louder until he saw himself shaking the ropes until he bled a little. Eventually he shook free, unable to fight with the voice in exhaustion. He ran to a nearby pool of water. It looked clear, so he greedily drank until he felt alive again. The voice grew quiet, almost in a silent satisfaction.

The world was large, almost impossibly so, with forests that stretched endlessly, lakes that spanned as far as you can see, and fields so tall that you can't even see over it. It was a wonderland of experiences. He ate leaves, berries, bugs, and nearly whatever seemed like a good idea at the time. Sometimes he'd see a rabbit, or a small creature, and the voice screamed at him, demanding that he give chase to catch the little things. Blace toyed with the idea, and made a little game out of it. It was the most fun he had in a long time. One day he caught a rabbit, it felt fluffy and warm as it struggled to run. The voice shouted something too loud for Blace to understand, and without realizing it he crushed the rabbit between his hands, killing it. The suddenly immobile rabbit seemed so odd to him. His parents hunted, but those rabbits never moved like this one did a moment ago. The voice was deafening as he blindly raised the rabbit to his mouth, tearing into it with his small teeth. The strange texture of blood, fur, and uncooked meat swiftly filled his mind before he could realize it. It was terrifying, yet he was unable to stop himself. He broke into tears as he savagely devoured the helpless morsel. Blood spatted his hair and coated his face in a orangeish-red liquid.

He stared down at the bony remains of the rabbit feeling confused and ashamed. The voice inside him was quiet again, leaving him to his lonely shame as he uncomfortably picked bit of fur from his teeth with bloody hands. Upon seeing his hands he looked down to see that the blood spilled down the front of his shirt and pants, staining with brown clothes a bloody shade. Wanting to forget the horrible thing he did he ran into the nearest puddle deep enough to scoop water from. His reflection stared back at him with a trail of blood dripping from it's maw. He dipped his crimson hands into the water, turning the water the colour pink. He splashed the water onto his face, when the water dripped back into the puddle it returned more red than before. When he was done a red image of himself stood on the water, looking scared of what it saw. Blace ran, until he saw a sizable pond to jump into.

The days past slowly. He tried his best not to play with the rabbits in fear of having the voice come back, but it never worked. It always knew exactly when he spotted something small to eat, and it always tried to shout at Blace until he gave in. After the third time he lost control he began to realize exactly how little he controlled the monster inside him. It became a horrifying routine of seeing, giving chase, and occasionally eating. He just wanted it to stop.

One day he came across a sizable rabbit with an arrow in it. The urge to take it was overwhelming. Both he and the beast knew that the hunter would be nearby, but the monster took the chance anyways. Blace leaped from the bushes and dashed towards the rabbit, lifting it by the arrow lodged into the side of the animal. There was an elven figure in the clearing a good distance away, most certainly far enough away that he'd have no chance of catching up. Blace backtracked as fast as he could to a cave that he'd spent the night in a few days before. As he blindly started to gnaw at the brown furred his sane mind worried about the hunter. What if that elf tracked him down?

Sure enough the elf came to the cave with his bow drawn, and an arrow notched. He called out to Blace, shouting something about giving up the rabbit. Not having anywhere to go he stayed still, still chewing at the challenged meat. Blace was terrified of the elf, and he started pleading for his life between bites. When the elf got close enough to see what was going on he paused for a moment before dropping the arrow he notched. In a swift motion the elf drew an arrow from a second quiver. Blace winced as something hit him, knocking him out cold.

He woke up behind a set of steel bars on a bed. Looking around he could see that he was clearly in a small prison cell. Judging from the sounds of carts, people, and the odd instrument he could only guess that he was back in a town, and from the sounds of it it was bigger than his home village. An elven man looked up from a leatherbound book, surprised to see the boy moving. Blace had a worried look on his face. He knew that only bad people ended up in prison. The elf hastily explained to Blace that he was arrested for poaching; they wouldn't have accepted it if he wasn't covered in animal blood. It did little to calm Blace who started to breakdown into tears. The jailer just rolled his eyes and continued reading his book. The voice inside his head was quiet, but Blace could feel it's hatred for the man in the chair. A cold, unrelenting hate...

After a few days of being curled up in a cell with only plates of bland watery oats to eat the jailer brought Blace news, someone had come to visit him. Much to his surprise it wasn't his family, which dashed his hopes as quick as he made them. The mysterious man who came to visit was an elf with a large set of wings, and a set of claws that made the jailer shot a cautious glance at the man who merely attempted to calm the jailer with mixed success. The man turned to the little boy in the cell, introducing himself as Thoven in a heavy high elf accent.

The winged man started talking to Blace, asking him questions about the voices, and what it asked for in the past. The man shook his head when Blace started running on and on about his time in the forest, almost avoiding the question entirely. When Blace slipped up and mentioned the rabbits he grew quiet, but the man encouraged him to go on. Hesitantly he did, not leaving out any details, even mentioning having to pull the fur from his teeth. The jailer looked appalled hearing all this from a little child. After a few days, and several visits the sheriff allowed the man to take custody of Blace, assuming that Blace would agree. He did, and soon Thoven started teaching him both the ways of the scribe, and how to control the monster within himself.

After 13 years of training, meditation, and learning Blace set out to find his own place in the world. He had changed greatly since he was a child. He became less naive and more educated, but the voice within him never quieted. Always voicing it's opinion. Always seeking a violent solution to Blace's problems.

---

This is all for my D&D character. I felt like posting his background with the picture. Let me know what you think.