Rate my new DnD backstory - provide your own

I'm about to start a new DnD campaign as a PC for the first ime in 2 years considering I was GM for those 2 years. Looking forward to this. Please ready my little backstory and suggest improvements or maybe leave your own character backstory ideas.

Anyway This is Leech, the goblin alchemist artificier.
DALLÂ·E 2024-01-14 11.28.07 - Create a character art of Leech, a goblin alchemist, portrayed as .jpg

DALLÂ·E 2024-01-14 11.28.07 - Create a character art of Leech, a goblin alchemist, portrayed as .jpg

This is his backstory.

In the verdant, yet treacherously tangled underbrush of the Enchanted Glumwood, there resided a peculiar and somewhat disheveled assembly of goblins, known collectively (and somewhat optimistically) as the Goblin Troupe of Redemptive Endeavors. At the helm of this ragtag band of misfits stood the Mighty, though undeniably obtuse, Sword Lord of the Goblin Horde, a towering figure among his kind, if one were to measure solely in terms of enthusiasm and volume.
Among the ranks of these green-skinned seekers of salvation, there existed one goblin whose tale was whispered on the lips of even the wind itself. His name? Leech. A goblin alchemist of questionable repute and undeniable talent, particularly in concocting potions that could either cure a wart or cause one to sprout anew in the most inconvenient of places.
Leech, in his early forties and notably thin even for goblin standards, stood a mere two feet tall. Yet, what he lacked in stature, he more than compensated for with his boundless curiosity and a peculiar knack for alchemy that teetered on the brink of genius and madness. It was said that his experiments could turn the moon's glow to cheese, had the moon ever consented to come close enough to Glumwood.
One fateful eve, as the troupe huddled around their meager fire, the Sword Lord, with a flourish of his oversized weapon (which was more rust than steel), decreed that they were to embark upon a quest of utmost importance. A quest for redemption, for glory, and perhaps, a smidgen of respectability. Their goal? To seek out the Fabled Bowl of Endless Porridge, a mythical artifact lost to the annals of time... and surprisingly bad map-keeping.
"The Fabled Bowl," he bellowed, "will prove our worth, not just to the snooty elves and the disdainful dwarves, but to all who doubt the might and the right of goblin kind!"
The troupe, spurred by a mixture of loyalty, confusion, and an unspoken desire for an unending supply of porridge, rallied behind their Sword Lord. Leech, ever the pragmatist, couldn't help but wonder about the nutritional value of endless porridge and the potential experiments one could conduct with such a source of sustenance.
Thus began their quest, a journey that would take them through the perilous Marshes of Misstep, over the Uncertain Hills of Ulysses, and into the very heart of the Forgotten Pantry, where it was rumored the bowl lay hidden.
Along the way, they encountered challenges most bizarre. A forest that sang off-key lullabies, and a village of vegan vampires seeking a cure for their unfortunate condition.
Leech, with his alchemical ingenuity, proved indispensable. A potion here to clear the path, a bomb there to distract overly chatty woodland creatures, and, on one memorable occasion, a concoction that turned the Sword Lord's hair a vibrant shade of pink, much to the amusement of his troupe.
And so, Leech and his companions, under the not-always-so-steady leadership of the Mighty Sword Lord, ventured forth on their own paths. Their quest for the Fabled Bowl of Endless Porridge became the stuff of legends, whispered in the same breath as tales of knights, dragons, and surprisingly articulate rabbits. For in the end, it was not the bowl they sought, but redemption, a place in the tales of the land, and perhaps, a decent breakfast.
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In the tangled weave of their quest for the Fabled Bowl of Endless Porridge, our intrepid and indefatigable goblin alchemist, Leech, found himself embroiled in an escapade most unexpected. It was upon a moonless night, when shadows dance and secrets whisper, that Leech's insatiable curiosity (and, admittedly, a rather misguided sense of direction) led him into the depths of a place most perilous—the Pantry of the Dread Pirate
Ah, the Pantry! A cavernous chamber brimming with exotic spices and treasures culinary, guarded not by beast or lock, but by the most fearsome of all sentinels—a pirate cook named One-Eyed Betty, whose wooden spoon was rumored to have stirred more than just soups.
With the stealth of a cat wearing socks on a marble floor, Leech navigated the labyrinth of shelves and barrels, his eyes alight with the glow of discovery. "Just a pinch of this for my potions," he mused, pocketing a handful of rare Saffronian saffron. "And perhaps a smidgen of that for my elixirs," as he filched a vial of Essence of Elderberry.
Alas, as fate would weave its twisted web, the clatter of a misplaced spice jar—filled to the brim with the Dreaded Chili Flakes of Fire Mountain—betrayed his presence. In an instant, the pantry was awash with the light of lanterns, and Leech, caught like a deer in the particularly aggressive headlights of an oncoming carriage, found himself surrounded by the most motley crew ever to sail the seven seas.
"Arr, what be this sneaky varmint doin' in me larder?" boomed the Dread Pirate, his one good eye narrowing with suspicion.
Leech, ever the goblin of quick wit and quicker tongue, stammered, "I was merely, uh, ensuring the structural integrity of your, erm, gastronomic stockpile, yes, quite."
The pirate crew, unimpressed with architectural critiques of their pantry, promptly arrested the hapless goblin, binding his hands with rope that had seen more salt than the Dead Sea.
And so, Leech found himself a guest of dubious honor in the bowels of the prison of the Pirate Lord, his quest for the Fabled Bowl temporarily thwarted by his own culinary curiosity and an unfortunate incident involving spice jars.
Yet, even in captivity, Leech's spirit remained unbroken. For he knew that every misadventure was but a step on the path to redemption, and every pantry, no matter how perilously guarded, a chance to add a new recipe to his repertoire. And who knows? Perhaps among pirates and lost bowls, he would find the greatest ingredient of all—adventure.