CRB is a repository of all the creative things that float through my mind about the RPG Pathfinder. Two major features are random character generation and building characters based on the god they worship. Anything that seems like it adds to the creative aspects of the game will pop up from time to time, including location descriptions, adventure ideas and even short stories. CRB won't just be my own creativity, it will open the floor to anyone who has an idea sparked by what I present to you.

Friday, March 17, 2017

Character Exploration 68 - Jingar Redfurrow

The week’s random rolls brought us an ultra-charismatic but not all that bright half-elf of Kellid descent. With a decent dexterity and constitution this might scream some kind of dumb jock, but after taking a look at some of the Golarion lore I went a totally different direction. Remembering a tidbit from Dave Gross’ pathfinder novel in his Count Jeggare series called King of Chaos I really tried to anchor this character in the history of the world. This week I went with summoner as a class, specifically the archetype called the God Caller. Meet Jingar and his little god.

Jingar Redfurrow

Before the worldwound, before the abyss spilled out onto Golarion there was Sarkoris. It was a savage land then, too, but not in the twisted way it has become. Tribes of Kellids roamed the land as well as erected cities such as Dyinglight and Storasta. This was the legacy of Jingar’s father, a legacy whose only remains are the tiny town of Gundrun.

Jingar’s mother was a half-elf. How the blood of the fair ones got into her veins is unknown, she was not originally of the tribe although her human heritage was obviously Kellid. Both his mother and his father were crafters, keeping the traditional ways of the Sarkorian tribes alive in this new age. Many travelers seeking back ways into The Worldwound come through Gundrun for guides and some of those buy what amounts to pieces of lost art to most of the rest of Golarion.

But even in Gundrun his family was seen as less. Although his father tells tales about the once great chieftains of his clan – how they led great war parties to glory – that is but a distant memory. Jingar’s family lived on the outskirts of the ramshackle town and his father was labelled ‘narakor’ or traitor. The elder Redfurrow accepts this fate quietly, although when Jingar inquired from his mother she told him that the dishonor was not of his father’s doing, although it was his burden to bear.

Although Gundrun is not directly under any demonic influence, that doesn’t make it completely safe. In Jingar’s younger years raiders targeted the town riding off with livestock and other goods. They also took him. When one of the riders found the half-elf hiding behind a cart in town his eyes went wide and he dropped whatever he was carrying to scoop up the boy.

The cave in which the raiders lived were covered in paintings of deformed creatures. Tentacles, multiple eyes, odd appendages, and twisted bodies were all common themes of the wall paintings. The tribe of raiders would chant and scream through the night and each night they would present Jingar on a simple altar of black rock caked in blood. Each night he thought he was going to die, but all they ever did was continue to chant and scream.

For ten days and ten nights Jingar was prisoner to these tortured souls. Although he feared them, there was something familiar. On the eleventh day a man rode in on a great beast, like a giant wolf. He tore through many of the cultists and scattered the rest. He introduced himself as Jingar’s uncle who was there to take him back to his parents. The two rode in silence for hours, when Jingar asked his unknown relative about the wolf the man called it his ‘little god.’

When Jingar returned he found that not only had he been kidnapped but that his mother had been killed in the raid. After much discussion and raised voices it was decided the boy would go with his uncle, away from Gundrun. In the night they left and headed as far as they could go.

The trek was long, clear south across Avistan, down the Sellen River, and into Taldor. In the crumbling empire’s capital they rode a boat – the largest Jingar had ever seen – and sailed for Abasalom. From the city at the center of the world they took one more ship around across the inner sea and to the far off land of Katapesh.

During the trip his uncle taught Jingar the ways of the god caller. Although he never managed to summon his little god, the boy took to heart the historical connection of his people to the divine. What he also learned was that those in Gundrun were not the only Kellids left of Sarkoris. Some of the tribes turned on their own people and joined the demonic invasion. As their civilization was destroyed they killed their own for their new masters. These were the sins of his father’s father and the reason his family would always be dishonored.

Katapesh was not unlike his home in The Worldwound. Outside of the cities the land was harsh and unforgiving. Giving up the bitter cold for the sweltering heat took some getting used to but eventually he managed. Unlike his parents, his uncle had no settled job. He was what some might call an adventurer. And not every – as a matter of fact not most – of these adventurers were meant for children. Jingar spent a lot of time in small fringe towns while his uncle was off exploring some ruin.

Being alone gave the boy a lot of time to think. He loved his family, but now that he knew their history he longed for the days when his people were powerful. He longed for the history of strong leaders his father had told him about. In his longing both pride and denial of their horrific act grew.

In one small frontier town out in the Katapesh desert Jingar had an encounter with a group of traders. They called him a barbarian, uncivilized, and backward. They said that his people would never amount to anything. It was then that Jingar heard the call, he touched the divine and it heard his call, but what he called wasn’t the will of his people of old, it was the new divinity of his people as they are now.

Like the cave paintings of those who kidnapped him, Jingar’s little god was an aberrant ball of mouths and tentacles. The creature poured forth into the world and began to attack the traders. As his little god lay waste to those who would taunt him Jingar saw visions of The Worldwound. A voice called him to reclaim his cursed kingdom and take his mantle as chief.

Before his uncle could return Jingar ran off. He lost himself in the deserts of Katapesh with the voice of the Qlippoth Lord Yamasoth gibbering away in his mind. Unsure of where to go next he has twisted his love of his family with the need to rebuild their lost civilization in his own image as an homage to them. For now he is alone with his new master and his little god.

My interpretation of these bits of information isn’t the only way to build this character. What class did your half-elf choose? How did he come to worship Yamasoth? Who was the relative that he was so close to? Why did he mass murder a bunch of tradesmen?

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