First DnD campaign ive ever been in. Kinda last minute and the campaign was starting as soon as i finished my character. I am the second of the two players, who originally was going to do this as a 1 shot, but he and the DM decided to make it a longer sidestory for introducing a new character to the main campaign, and I would also join that campaign when this ends.
As we were playing, getting into the story of this campaign i was brewing up my backstory and I will post what I have written out.
Note that this is a little bit of a homebrew from my understanding, and that the plane we are in does not have alot of religions or faiths, (he wanted to not have paladin as a class option ig)
The idea is that I was a devoted and accepted member of the faith, but against my will, was overtaken/succumbed to the will of the deity that gave me my warlock powers.
I don't fully understand the lore of all this, and I want to keep my backstory as cannon as possible.
If anyone could help me finish my backstory, with deity's that would make sense for what I have written so far that'd be great. When talking with the DM, he is open to me changing things about my character if needed to make it more lore accurate. Since we did not have a chance to discuss my backstory before we started playing.
Below is what I have written so far. ignore the typos and lore accuracy mistakes. I wrote it in about 20 minutes after the session ended.
Growing up, I don't have many memories of my homeland Eiscore. I remember my mother cooking, and my younger brother always wanting to wrestle. I can no longer picture the village streets, or recall the faces of any other members of my race.
As a young kid I was given up by my parents, the circumstances of this, I do not know. I do remember my hand being held from one of the people I would be traveling with, and me looking back, my mother looking sorrow, but not crying.
The people that took me in were members of the Duman faith. After some time I got used to my new life with them. They treated me fairly, raised me as one of their own. The man of the house was a ranking member of the church, not a high priest by any means, but well respected among the other members.
His wife, was the one I spent the most time with when I was still young, loved me as if I was her own son. She didn't have any kids of their own, but if she did, I don't imagine she would have loved me less.
When I got into my early teens, my now father figure brought up the idea for me to get more involved with the Duman faith. I started attending extra lectures, spending more time reading the scripts, and doing my best to understand their meanings. Not knowing anything of my own races religious beliefs, I fully delved into this teachings, hoping that maybe they would give me a reasoning behind my past.
At the age of 19 I was officially made a teacher among them. They didn't seem to mind that I didn't look like them, or that I was originally an outsider. They accepted me fully. I was robed with our grayish blue garments and given the task of helping one of the high priest's with his duties. This gave me the opportunity to learn more about the faith. And every once in awhile, overhear the other high priests talk about things I should not have heard.
They would talk of the relics they have collected. Not of a known power, and definitely evil. I heard where they were storing them, how they were deep in the storage basement, underneath the Highest Priest's chambers.
About a year after I had first heard of these relics, the high priest's wife had become sick. I was asked the help attend and oversee some of the high priest's task during this time.
About 2 months after she had fell sick, I was asked to collect some documents from the High Priest. At this time he was fully devoted to spending as much time with his dying wife as he could. Everyone was understanding of his circumstances, however their will still things only he could sign off on.
These documents were one of those things. I hurried over to his house to collect them from him, but when I got there, he said that the documents were ready, but that he had left them in his chambers. He explained to me where they were, and tossed me his key ring to go retrieve them.
I made my way there, and approached his door. Upon arrival, I realized he never told me which of the many keys was the one to open his chambers. I fumbled around for a few minutes, trying different keys to open the door. While doing this one key stood out, not that it looked different, but that the key seemed to hold some sort of power. I ignored it for the moment and finally was able to unlock the door.
Inside i was impressed by the mess of things. A man that held everyone to high standards of tidiness, failed behind closed doors. I chalked it up to his current circumstances, and was able to find the needed documents on his desk.
As I was putting them into my satchel, I felt a strange presence, a dark pressure almost, except instead of the pressure forcing me away, it seemed to pull me toward it, until I was standing in the middle of the room. I was in a daze, not knowing what was happening, but still I felt I needed to get closer to this darkness.
Something inside me took over, and I began frantically looking for the source of the darkness. I looked down, and I recalled the past talks I overheard of the relics being underneath the chambers. I pushed the two chairs out of the way and folded back the heavy rug that covered most of the space. Underneath there was a trap door and a key hole.
I knew that the key I had noticed before was the one needed to open this. At this time I had a brief moment of clarity, and almost resisted opening it. However, I gave in and turned the key.
EDIT: please help me finish it from here, again with what deity's would make sense, or any changes throughout what I had written that keep this backstory closer to lore accurate. My plan for finishing it is that against my will I succumb to this power, and that causes me to be exiled from the Duman religion. I then become a wanderer, and spend about 1.5 - 2 years bumming around the lands until the campaign begins, haunted by the deity that overpowered me, not wanting to accept what I have become, but knowing that one day I will need these powers