Striding Into the Gates of Hell - a Wrath of the Righteous Campaign (Inactive)

Game Master Mark Sweetman

Bodelin answers the call. And has little choice. He follows the voice of Torag, who calls him to aid in the great crusade against the world wound. For as a devotee of Torag, is not closing the wound in the Earth Mother, and honoring the Forge Father not the greatest of causes? Bodelin is unsure of what lies in store, and how he will be met, as he is both a dwarf and not a cleric. Some say he is confused, and that Torag is not his master. But he resists, knowing that faith is made to be tested.
Bodelin is originally a native of Ustalav, born to a poor family of surface Dwarves who made a meager living as smiths. They suffered minor persecutions at the hands of their mostly human neighbors. Eventually, Bodelin grew into a youth, and his ability as a mason despite his vision problems drew the attention of the local lord, who had the youth apprenticed to the castle. After a few years, it was the apprentice’s turn to train the master! Bodelin struck out on his own having completed his ‘training’ and became a wandering tinker, specializing in grave stones.

Personality
Bodelin is melancholy, as is natural for one who was born nearly blind. He is virtually useless in ranged combat, and has trouble seeing nature’s beauty. His eyes are more accustomed to complete darkness, a tactic which has served him well over the years. He is pious, but not a fool. He believes that faith is meant to be tested, and that suffering is redemptive. As an oracle, he is isolated and distrusted by the majority of Torag’s cult, and suffers even at the hands of those he considers allies. He prefers to spend his time in quiet meditation. Unlike most Dwarves, he abstains from alcohol, and has taken a vow of chastity. His sole delight is music. He always tips bards, and listens with great delight to musical, poetic, or verbal performances.
Additional Tropes
The Martyr
Bodelin actively seeks out suffering, and has little interest in his self-preservation. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, and this mortification of the flesh is what leads to the strengthening of his spirit. Bodelin is a dwarf, not a masochist. He has no desire to be tortured for the sake of pain, but standing in the path of a charging lion to allow a group of children to escape would be all in a days work
A prophet is not without honor, save is his own country
Bodelin has a great deal of trouble getting along with his fellow Dwarven clerics, who find the idea of a ‘divine Oracle of Torag’ a slightly heretical idea. Thus Bodelin has learned to avoid, or even fear, Clerics, Paladins, and the Church hierarchy of his patron
Dwarven Smith
Bodelin is a artisan, like most Dwarves, and this trope is played straight
Gruff Dwarf
As a Oracle Bodelin has a high charisma, thereby inverting the trope.

Offer to recruiter
I am called by the forge-father to offer my very life to close the grievous wound in our mother. My abilities are modest, but I offer my skill at arms and magical graces granted to me by Torag. I can repair and maintain arms and armor. I am at home in the deep places of the earth. I seek only to further Torag’s will in this crusade. Please accept me in His name
Code of Conduct
Keep my word at all costs
Aid all who seek the good
Honor the Forge by crafting in Torag’s name
Show Mercy to the Weak, but bring Swift and Terrible Judgment to Evil

Bodelin is average height for a Dwarf, neither remarkably tall, nor short. He is bald, and wears a full red beard, which he braids into two long braids which nearly reach the ground. In the center of his forehead is a tattoo of the dwarven rune for earth, his wrists each have a tattoo of a war hammer. His skin is pale, even for a Dwarf.
The most noticeable thing about Bodelin is his eyes. They are clouded having an almost milky appearance, making his handicap immediately obvious. Though not truly blind, Bodelin moves with care, seldom quickly, and often trips over doorways, stairs, and so on. As with many vision impaired people, his hearing has become more acute over the years, and he is often seen to turn his head to get a better lock on a sound.
Currently, he is wearing a highly polished Dwarven Breastplate,with a matching light steel shield. Both of which have strange creatures etched into it (Earth Elementals) and he carries a massive miners pick. Both armor and weapon seem in excellent repair, and are spotless. One can almost see their reflection in his breastplate. In addition he has a walking staff, which he leans on, or uses to aid his balance. His weapons and armor give the impression of a man who has seen combat, and knows how to defend himself. A small silver light hammer hangs on his belt. This weapon is clearly undersized and seems a holy symbol or talisman, and not a weapon at all
Bodelin prefers to speak Dwarven, but is capable of speaking Giant, and Terran. His common is slow and rusty, and he is slightly ashamed of his lack of proficiency in the language. He finds Elvish particularly unsuitable to his tongue, though enjoys the sound.

Tunnel Fighter,
As an oracle of stone, and a Dwarf, Boedin has spent more time underground than above it. He has long learned to listen to footsteps, and feel vibrations, giving him an edge in subterranean combat.
Guardian of the Forge
As an oracle of stone, and a stone mason, Boedin is a skilled architect and engineer, able to size up architecture and fortifications at a glance. This gives him a keen insight into the various bridges, walls, and mines across the world.

Bodelin’s heavy pick is called Tunnel Breaker a weapon gifted to him by a group of miners who he saved from a cave inn. The pick features a variety of improvements over a regular heavy pick. Firstly, the handle is bound in fine leather, providing an excellent grip. Secondly, the base of the handle has a spike, allowing the pick to be used as a piton. Finally the head of the pick has been welded to the shaft of the handle, making it almost impossible to break the weapon when used as a lever. Though designed as a weapon, the pick is capable of functioning as a tool, and Bodelin uses it for both functions. The pick is modeled on the appearance of a bird of prey, with the point of the pick resembling a beak, and the base having ruby chips for eyes.
The cave in took place a remote human settlement, and all hope of the miners rescue was lost. Bodelin intervened, using his stone sense to locate a pocket of air, that the trapped miners had taken refuge in. In gratitude the townsfolk crafted this weapon. Bodelin is reminded that it is never to late to give up hope, and that not every deed goes unrewarded.

Bodelin has a particularly tortured relationship with Dwarves. As an oracle, he is often seen as cursed, heretical, or simply unlucky. His life as a pilgrim and wanderer confuses the clergy of Torag, some of whom have never seen an oracle, or think he’s simply insane.
Bodelin has little feeling about the Elves, seeing them as slightly, capricious and flighty. His prejudice doesn’t go beyond thoughts, and he does not suffer from the traditional Dwarf Elf animosity.
Towards humans, Bodelin feels a certain responsibility, and a protective streak. After all, they must be protected from themselves. Mostly he finds the sheer range of human behavior fascinating, if maddening, all at the same time. He feels a particular affinity for human miners, smiths, and engineers.
Like most Dwarves, Bodelin can accept Gnomes, but finds them even more random and impulsive than even the Elves. He doesn’t understand their motivations at all, and shakes his head at their antics.
Bodelin has little interactions with halflings, save as bards or innkeepers. He appreciates the fine cooking, and musical aptitude.
The races that Bodelin is predisposed to distrust are, not surprisingly, half-orcs and tieflings. Hlaf-Orcs are apt to go bezerk, and start killing allies, while tieflings are always resisting a fundamentally evil nature. Bodelin is extremely wary of anything that looks like a devil, and the more demonic the features (tails, horns, slit pupils) the more he worries.

As an oracle, Bodelin is not an ordinated member of any priesthood, nor is he a Paladin. Many Oracles consider themselves to be blessed by a pantheon of gods, or a supernatural force. Bodelin is different. He sees himself as a direct conduit to Torag’s power. Although there is no way to ‘prove’ any of this, Bodelin finds the fact he can cast divine magic, and manipulate weapons and armor with no training, absolute proof. Since he has dedicated himself utterly to the Forge-Father, disagreeing with him is not a good idea.
Bodelin stops by any and all temples of Torag, wherever they may be. He carries a small silver war hammer, a holy symbol of Torag, and is a friend to all burrowing creatures such as moles and badgers. He is particularly infuriated by smiths who defraud others, or sell damaged goods, or engage in unsafe, or unwise mining practices.
Bodelin prays three times a day: at sunrise, noon, and sunset. He dedicates all repairs of arms or armor to Torag, and considers smithy to be a form of prayer. Any undertaking that involves metal or stone will be treated with total concentration and utter reverence.

Bodelin is lawfull good, and this means that good and evil are absolute forces. Moral ambiguity does not exist, but is an excuse made by those who have neither the will nor the desire to make the world a better place. To Bodelin there is no neutrality, only a dualistic world, where every action is good or evil. Those who serve themselves at the expense of others are evil, but most people are evil because they are weak. A man who goes to a prostitute is evil, because he cheapens himself. The prostitute is evil because she cheapens herself. They are both victims of themselves: the man because he is degrading himself for the escape of pleasure, the woman because she is degrading herself for money. The only people they harm are themselves, and though they have performed evil actions, for evil reasons, they are not evil, simply impulsive.
The truly evil are different; they are sadistic, evil for the sake of evil. They destroy what is beautiful, and hate where there is safety and order. Bodelin is fiercely opposed to torture, murder, poisoning, and other ‘evil’ acts. He would accept the surrender of anyone, but draws the lines at demons, considering redemption a theological impossibility for those fallen from heaven. Deceit is the sign of an untrustworthy ally, and Bodelin will react poorly to anybody who has ever betrayed anyone, ever.
In terms of allies, Bodelin gets along well with paladins, clerics, and inquisitors who are altruistic. He finds the more selfish motivations for adventuring, such as money, power, or fame, foolish at best, and dangerous temptations at worst. Characters will display cynical views, such as “everything is a shade of grey” will receive impassioned theological debate from Bodelin. (See Alexander Solzhenistsyn)
Combat

Bodelin is a front line combatant, using his divine abilities to augment his already formidable combat prowess. Dressed in the heaviest armor available, and with a legendary dwarven constitution, his tactic is to impale the heads of his opponents with his pick, which is swung in two hands. As all Dwarves, he is extremely stubborn, and difficult to trip, or knock over. He lacks speed, and prefers to wade into the thick of things. He keeps a cure wounds in reserve, but otherwise prefers personal buffs.
His weaknesses are his speed and reflexes. Due partially to his near blindness, partially to his height, he does not cover ground well and fears ranger attacks, as well as magic. As a Dwarf his toughness and general resolve are far better than most humans, and so he tends to trust in his ability to shrug off enchantments . In an emergency, he may cast protection from evil if fighting a particularly deadly foe.

Melchesiech (not his birth name) was born in Kyonin in 4561 AR, scion of a family of wizards and scholars, and for a time it seemed that his life’s path was set for him. His intellectual gifts were recognized early on, allowing him to receive training in magic from his childhood and, though studious enough, his louche ways also earned him a favored place among Calistria’s worshippers. He was, in short, a dilettante—phlegmatic in temperament, and in many ways exemplifying the Brilliant but Lazy trope. The death of Aroden did little to change this; it was something important to humans, of course, but elves could afford to wait a century or two and see what its effects would be.

Then word of the First Mendevian Crusade came to Kyonin, and something in the nascent wizard’s heart began to change. It was subtle at first; the only one who noticed was Soumral, his closest friend and sometime lover. But the years became decades, the news from the Worldwound grew grimmer, and the changes continued…not only internal, but also in appearance; the chameleon nature of elvenkind saw to that. His fine, bishounen features hardened and became angular, hawklike; his long blond hair darkened. His nights were troubled by dreams of Kyonin’s fall and the death of all he held dear, and so his days filled with arcane studies to the exclusion of everything—and everyone—else. Finally, Soumral sent him from her side and barred him from the temple of Calistria where she served as priestess. She left him only a symbol of the Goddess, a sign that when this madness of order had run its course he would again be welcome. (It is a mark of her regard for him that she managed to restrain her tendency to vengeance.) Though he does not wear it openly, he still carries the holy symbol with him as a reminder of what he fights for; he doesn’t think that he’ll be able to lay down his burden in life, but he chooses to pay the price so that his fellow elves can live as they choose. He has voluntarily forgotten his birth name, leaving it behind when he left Kyonin and taking for his new name an ancient Sovryian word that means only “weapon.” And perhaps that's why Soumral saw no need to take revenge for being put aside...she knew that Melchesiech would do far worse to himself....

“Ain’t you cold?” one of the mercenaries called back.

”Freezing,” Rakeesh stated flatly. ”I feel like there is ice pumping through my veins.”

“Then bring yerself over to the fire, ya fool!”

“It is of no help.” Rakeesh looked wistfully off towards the south. “I was once one of the Lords of Osirion… a descendent of Ragathiel himself… a being of glorious golden fire… a child of the princes of Heaven, Hell, and Golarion all in one…” his voice dropped nearly to a whisper. “The retribution of the Empyreal Lord is terrifying, my friends. Do not neglect your duty. Do not squander the gifts of fire and blood.”

“Oh, yeah?” the corner of the mercenary’s mouth turned up in skeptical amusement. “And what brings ya on this trek to the most godsforsaken corner of the world, yer highness?”

“The General of Vengeance has taken the fire from my heart, but has replaced it with purpose. I go now to seek that purpose, to honor the nobility of my heritage. To be worthy of my heritage.”

“Ya thinkin’ to earn yer wings, yer majesty?” the bruiser laughed.

Rakeesh shook his head. “Ragathiel does not forgive. That I live is more than a miracle. Once he turns his eyes upon you in anger…” Rakeesh shivered. “No. I seek vengeance. Demonkind are foul, unholy creatures, unwelcome upon this plane. But, it is not for them that I hold this righteous retribution. I seek vengeance upon myself. It was the gift of my blood that I squandered, and by my blood shall it be paid.”

The mercenary nudged his companion, “Suicide by demon.”

Rakeesh glanced over to where his glaive lay propped against a nearby tree. “I am not without some skill in the arts of war. Nor am I a fool, to be easily undone by the guile and deceit of demons and their ilk. A man must be a fool to believe he is invulnerable anywhere, much less on the very doorstep of the Abyss. Crusaders should not expect to live to a ripe old age. But, I do not plan to surrender my life cheaply.”

“I hear’d tell the spawn of angels glow like the sun, and heal folks with their tears. You don’t look much like any angel to me.”

“If you had seen me before, you would not speak such words,” Rakeesh smiled sadly. “My eyes glowed like molten gold, and my hair was a wreath of flame. Now…” he looked upon the man with dull grey eyes and ran his hand through his limp flaxen hair. He stood and stretched himself to his full, considerable height, turning his strong, slender frame to ease the tension in his back.

“Well, at least it makes for an int’restin’ story, yer lordship!” the man guffawed. “Beggin’ yer pardon o’ course!” A few of the other mercenaries that Rakeesh was traveling with chuckled at the joke. “Still, ya can’t kill no demons if ya catch yer death afore ya get there. Come and warm yerself.”

“The fire holds no appeal for me. It is a pale candle to the inferno I used to hold within.”

“Here. Drink this if ya want a fire in yer belly.” The mercenary shoved a tin mug with some bitter, acrid smelling substance into Rakeesh’s hand. “Now don’t get all puritanical on me, yer holiness. Ain’t nothin’ but Osirion coffee. Should be yer stock an’ trade, yeah?”

Rakeesh took an experimental sip, and another, before tipping the scalding contents down his throat. “It certainly should be! Marvelous! For the briefest of moments, it felt like the fire was reborn within him. ”How have I never encountered such a thing? Do you have more?”

“Here,” the bruiser tossed Rakeesh a battered cast-iron pot. “I’ve enough to sell ya a bit. But, get yer own when we reach Nerosyan, will ya? I ain’t a durned merchant trader. Ya can keep the pot, I got another.”

Rakeesh stood silent for a moment. “Thank you, sir. I am indebted to you.”

Turns Out Like His Father: Petravius never fit in Kyonin and was unhappy there, instead setting off northward, taking on a Chelish name, wanting to join the Hellknights. Not aware of the fact that his father was the LE, merciless-type of Hellknight [straight; slight subversion]

Good is Not Soft: As an aspiring Hellknight, Petravius is dedicated to living up to the ideals and reputation of the Order. Played Straight.

Magic Knight: Played Straight -- first as a Magus and later (hopefully) as a Signifier.

Terror Hero: Lampshaded, somewhat -- playing off the reputation of the Hellknights. (He's hoping for a type 5, but we'll see..)

Knight Errant: Subverted. Petravius is a wandering would-be knight and wannabe hero -- he's gone north to the Worldwound to earn enough of a reputation and to attract enough attention that he'll be invited into the Order -- and is doing so based only on the hope that some of the Order remained behind, rather than going back to Cheliax.

level 1 tiefling wizard (conjuror), opposed schools enchantment and evocation
ac 13, hp 8, init 5+, F 2+. R 3+, W 2+
str 10
dex 16 (14+2)
con 14
int 18 (16+2)
wis 10
cha 12 (14-2)
skillpoints per level 7 knowledge arcana, the planes, religion and history 8+, intimidate 7+, use magic device 5+ and spellcraft 8+.
feat spell focus (conjuration)
traits Fiendish Confidence and Charming
spells, cantrips detect magic, mage hand, message and mending. Level 1 spells 2 Grease and mage armor.
familiar scorpion.
equipment staff (free), dagger (2 gp), scholar's outfit (free outfit) and wizards kit (21 gp).

Gregori is considered one of the greatest weapons of the order of the Golden Blade, a specialist unit that hunts the monsters in the darkness that would otherwise prey on the populace. From their headquarters in Cannorate, the brave men and women of the order venture to all corners of Golarion.

The blood of angels runs strong in Gregori’s veins. As the son of a well regarded priestess and a half-celestial warrior, Gregori practically radiates with divine potential. Gregori has never met his father, who died while his mother was pregnant. As a result, he knows nothing of the Celestial part of his bloodline. He has been watched by celestial forces however, and there is some sort of plan in place in which he plays a key role.

Sanguine and Choleric (the Artisan): Extroverted and dually-oriented. On the positive side, the most brave, passionate, energetic, and tactical (as "Artisan" suggests) of the temperament combos. But on the negative side, the most impulsive and least sensitive toward others, can be the most violent, and can cause the most drama to happen. Usually fitting in this blend are the typical Real Man (especially as The Munchkin), a stoic and/or genki Blood Knight, and an overlap of Terror Hero and Warrior Therapist.
• Expressive high, responsive moderate.
• Response's delay short, duration variable.
• Corresponds to the double-element lightning (air + fire).

Will be playing both aspects of his personality, his duality being sharply separated between combat and non combat activity. Gregori is that person who is your best friend, makes you feel safe, and when you watch him face an enemy, frightens you a little.

While charming, friendly and extremely likeable, there is a definite dark side to Gregori that he keeps under tight control, usually using it to fuel his focus in battle, reflecting on his own darkness to understand the darkness into which he seeks to incinerate the shadows with his blinding light.

Intelligent and extremely capable, Gregori is also overconfident, stemming from literally being the temple’s “golden boy”. He was raised to believe that while wielding the light there is nothing he cannot face and has a tendency to believe it much of the time.

Tropes

Good Is Not Soft (Played straight)
If you have to look along the shaft of an arrow from the wrong end, if a man has you entirely at his mercy, then hope like hell that man is an evil man. Because the evil like power, power over people, and they want to see you in fear. They want you to know you're going to die. So they'll talk. They'll gloat. They'll watch you squirm. They'll put off the moment of murder like another man will put off a good cigar. So hope like hell your captor is an evil man. A good man will kill you with hardly a word.
— Discworld, Men at Arms

Holy Hand Grenade (Once he starts leveling he's an anti-evil bomb)

"And Saint Attila raised the Hand Grenade up on high, saying: O Lord, bless this Thy hand grenade, that with it Thou mayest blow Thine enemies to tiny bits, in Thy mercy."
— The Book of Armaments on the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch, Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Holy Hitman
"And you will know my name is the LORD, when I lay my vengeance upon thee."
— Jules Winnfield (mis)quoting The Bible, Pulp Fiction

One of the most influential people in Gregori’s life has been his mother. A much respected priestess of Sarenrea whose meteoric rise within the church was exceeded only by her wisdom, she is the primary reason that while driven by strong emotions and conviction, Gregori also possessed a sharp tactical mind and a broad perspective of most situations. She is the one who has instilled in him the sliver of humility that keeps his ego in check.
He has been raised in the church, forged into a living weapon against evil. His natural gifts, combined with an almost unlimited potential to draw upon the powers of light (will forgo spell casting and go with Warrior of Light archetype at 4th), render him capable of wading headlong into the heart of darkness and surviving. Through a combination of martial power, divine gifts and inspiring charisma, Gregori not only presents a powerful force against evil, but makes everyone around him better.
He is noble without being haughty, nonchalantly courageous and unrelenting when faced with an enemy.

Gregori

Tall, dashing, extremely well muscled, Gregori seems a temple statue brought to vivid life. In his stylized armor, fully equipped he virtually radiates an aura of martial divinity, ready to stike at the heart of evil. From his flawless appearance to his stunning smile and roguish grin with just a hint of playful mischief, the man seems like a living embodiment of the blend of Ragathiel’s wrath and Sarenrae’s grace.

The other most influential person in Gregori’s life was his sword master Darius. A grizzled old man who could best most men 20 years younger, Darius was in many ways the closest thing Gregori had to a father figure.

After years of training young warriors to battle the darkness, Darius decided to retire the way he lived, heading to the worldwound to battle the demon hordes.

After 2 years without contact, a messenger appeared carrying an oil-cloth wrapped around Darius' cold Iron Bastard sword along with a note etched in a strip of leather.

MAKE THEM PAY

Even as a child, Gregori was quietly aware of the presence of divine emissaries, angelic guardians who watched over him, sometimes counseling him when he was alone. To him the presence of the divine is completely natural, and his awareness of his path in life stems heavily from these moments.

Called

Your deity or a powerful spirit spoke to you when you were young, dropping cryptic hints about the important destiny that lay before you and how you must win your fights if you are to achieve your predetermined greatness.
Benefit(s): Once per day upon rolling a natural 1 on an attack roll, you may reroll the die and take the second result instead.

A Shining Beacon
You carry a burning hatred in your heart for all things demonic, and have studied their weaknesses carefully.
Benefit: You deal additional damage equal to your weapon’s critical hit modifier when you score a successful critical hit with a weapon on a demon. This damage is added only after the damage is totaled, and is not multiplied by the critical hit multiple.

While respecting a number of the good deities and having a special fondness for Sarenrae, Gregori’s true patron deity is Ragathiel.

Gregori hates evil. Not just in the manner of a Paladin or as a creature of good. He bears a personal grudge against creatures that actively promote an evil agenda because creatures like them took the woman he loved from him. He is however willing to accept that there is a possibility of redemption, giving quarter if there is a true sign of good in his opponent

Gregori was once on the verge of falling, having descended into depression and rage after the death of his love Tania against a horde of orcs. Unable to forgive himself, he spiraled into violence and rage, seeking perhaps a violent end in battle. Brought to the brink of death after taking on a pack of trollhounds that were preying on an outlying village, his inner hate festering to the point where he found himself stripped of his resistance, the Bloodfire fever burning within him, he had a vision. Whether hallucination or divine providence he would never be able to say for sure, but in that moment Tania came to his side, and convinced him to release the poisionous rage that was slowly eating away at him. The tattoo that he bears over his heart, a circle made of equal portions of light and shadow interlocked serves to remind him that in even the greatest warriors of light lies darkness that must be acknowledges and controlled, and that by the same token, in the darkest of hearts may be a glimmer of light.

Kel tries not to draw attention to himself. He tends to wear concealing clothing, at least as much as his guard uniform allows. He has found that is the best way to keep people from instantly distrusting him. Later, after he's proven himself a bit, he tends to be upfront about his heritage. He's lost a few friends this way, but to him that's better than lying about who he is.

He strongly believes that each person is responsible for their own fate, and that nothing is predetermined. He tries to never make excuses for his actions. He also tries to never do anything that might make him have to. In the end, he's a man with good intentions trying not to give into the destructive impulses of his heritage.

He isn't out to save the world, but he has a complex about helping people. Maybe he just wants to prove the world wrong about him. He doesn't think about it much, he just knows that when someone is in trouble, he can't do nothing. He is an exercise in contradictions. He was born to be evil but wants to be good. He is a creature of darkness that tries to leave a little light wherever he goes. He's a complex man trying to be simple. He kills people for a living, and thinks life is wonderful and sacred.

And to make it all worse, he has the soul of a fallen angel twined around his own.

Asara used to be a Solar. She was captured, tortured, broken and forced to become everything in the world she hated. Kel doesn't know who did it, or why, and she doesn't remember. Her mind is fragmented. The darkness in her bound her to him. The light in him saved her from whatever she was intended to be used for. She loves him, hates herself, wants to save him, wants to die, and flips back and forth between pure good and pure evil without warning.

To say Kel is angry about what was done to her is something of an understatement. Simply knowing about it would be enough to anger him. He doesn't just know. He feels it. Their minds are intertwined and even though he didn't experience what she did, the effects, the scars, are his now too. He hopes that having someone help bear the pain will be enough to help Asara heal before it drives him crazy. She is down in a pit of darkness. He's trying to pull her out. She's trying to pull him in. She's weak, but she is still an Angel. He's just a man, but he's been resisting the call of darkness his whole life.

Kel is going to the Worldwound because of her. It's his only lead. He's gotten himself hired on guarding supply caravans running out to the front line. Someone out there knows who Asara used to be, and who captured her. He's hoping to find those people. He's hoping to save her, or kill her, or somehow give her peace.

He's willing to carve a bloody swath through the ranks of hell to do it too.

Kel is going to start as a regular old fighter. He'll take the Bodyguard feats and concentrate on protecting people as best he can. At first Asara will just be a voice in his head. Her existance will be pure fluff (because there's no feats for "possessed by an emo angel")

Later (3rd level-ish) he's going to become a Paladin, but as paladins go, he will be about as dark as it gets. She will be his patron, and will be very much in line with Ragathiel's teachings and goals (if she ever gets free she'll probably become one of his heralds)

At 7th level he'll become a Shadowdancer. When he eventually gets his Shadow Companion, it will be a manifestation of Asara.

When he eventually manifests his Mythic abilities, he'll be a Champion and most of his extranormal powers will be manifestations of her power.

His whole theme revolves around the brief flashes of bright blinding light and the disorienting blackness they leave behind.

Gosh, there's so many.

Personality-wise, he's Leukine with splashes of Meloncholic. Goodness to him is more of a goal than a concept, so he always thinks in terms of action rather than philosophy. He also has a strong desire to be accepted and respected by other people, so he tries to present a helpful and rational self-image even though he is often extremely conflicted inside. In the end, he is best described as self-sacrificing and pragmatic (though often extremely grumpy about it)

As for the rest of the tropes, Good Is Not Nice is the primary one. Also, Good Angel Bad Angel (Asara is both at once speaking in his mind), Good Isn't Always Pretty (good guy tiefling), Redemption Quest (for both of them), and Screw Destiny (Kel refuses to be what he was born to be).

but the big two for them are the Unscrupulous Hero and Broken Angel

Tiplik is the last of the Cat Riders, a barbarian tribe of halflings that, not long ago, lived in the Realm of the Mammoth Lords. They survived with the aid of their companions, swift and lethal cats, and carved a place for themselves in the hidden primordial valleys of the Tusk Mountains; until something evil beyond their scope broke free of the Worldwound.

The demon shattered the power of their tribe and drove them across Avistan, hunting them for reasons of its own. They fled for months, only briefly getting any chance to settle down before it would attack again, picking off their remaining members one by one, all the way east to Mendev. It was there, on the borders of the Crusader Queen's realm, that the spawn of the Abyss was finally destroyed.

By sheer luck (or, as some would say, by divine providence) in the throes of what would almost certainly prove to be the beast's last attack, a Crusader patrol happened upon the now-tiny band of halflings and their monstrous pursuer. They fell upon the creature and sent it back to the realms from whence it came, but not before it had ended yet another life: Tiplik's mother. Tiplik himself was only barely out of his infancy, a tiny boy of seven (very young for halflings), and now he was the only survivor of his tribe.

Taken in by the Crusaders, Tiplik (or "Tip", as they took to calling him) was raised an orphan in the church of Iomedae (Trait:Child of the Temple). Despite the early tragedy of his life, he grew up a cheerful lad, talkative and witty. He told everyone that he thought it had in fact been a true miracle that day long ago, and that his life was spared for a reason - and if that was so, then he should celebrate that life. Some of the other children, though, said they'd heard him crying in the night, and sometimes, there was a hard look in his eyes that belied the cheerful words.

Even though, to him, his rescue was proof of Iomedae's greatness, he found that the bounds of religion chafed at him, and was disinclined to take his vows or do much in the way of clerical study. One thing he did learn, however, was how to hunt demons, and he was a (if you'll pardon the expression) damned good student. He took with a will to the training for paladins, especially their lessons on mounted combat (Trait: Armor Expert) - but disappeared just before the time came to take their vows .

He did not return until nearly a year later, nearly the same day that the call to the Fifth Crusade was announced. In tow, he had a young female tiger, who he called Rutha. In the tongue of his people, he said, her name meant Justice, and now...now she would bring him to the demons.

The last survivor of a tribe of cat-riding halflings out of the Realm of the Mammoth Lords, Tip's people were destroyed by a marauding demon. Raised by the Crusaders of Mevin, he answers the call to the Fifth Crusade with the zeal of Iomedae in his heart and the ferocity of his people behind his eyes.

I came up with a pretty long list here (damn you TV Tropes), but I'll try to keep it down to the essentials. To start with, he falls pretty firmly into the Sanguine section of the Four Temperaments, with maybe just a splash of Choleric, although I wouldn't say enough to make him fall into the Artisan section.

Getting more specific, he is very much a Lancer, and he aims (pun intended) to be something of a Friendly Sniper. All this cheeriness comes from his belief in Iomedae saving his life for a reason, and the following ideas that part of that reason must be to brighten the lives of those around him.

That being said, when it comes to demons or those who truck with them, he has a very, very strong Pay Evil Unto Evil attitude. They deserve no mercy or quarter of any kind, almost to the point of putting Revenge Before Reason. It almost takes him into being He Who Fights Monsters, but his Iomedaean upbringing has taught him that the well-being of other people is still more important than eradicating demons from Golarion - if only just. This all stems, of course, from a very heavy dose of Survivor Guilt due to, more or less, being the Last of His Kind.

The most important aspects of his character are probably:
[list]

Friendly Sniper

Pay Evil Unto Evil

Survivor Guilt

With a wide smile and a simple gesture to his right, Tip indicates the tiger by his side. "You're kidding, right?"

As the officer simply stares politely back, Tip shrugs and elaborates. "Rutha and I, we're a team. She hunts them down, and I finish them off." He pats the bow slung across his back. "It works out pretty well."

He tries to move on, but the recruiter doesn't quite look satisfied. Tip sighs, and his face loses the grin. [b"For the Inheritor's sake...look, we both know you need me out there. You want demons dead, I want to kill demons, we both want it done in Iomedae's name and for Her greater glory. Let me sign up, and we all get what we want."[/b]

Tip stands about 3' 3", tall and well muscled for a halfling. His hair, kept short in Mendevian fashion rather than halfling, is a light blonde, almost platinum, owing this as well as his dark skin to his odd heritage. He moves with a lithe grace, when mounted or not, and nearly always has a ready, cheery smile for passersby. Usually, he dresses in tight clothes of heavy fabrics - built for tropical climes, he much prefers to stay warm in the colder lands, but acknowledges the need to keep one's outfit practical.

When it comes to combat, Tip is primarily an archer. He will be mounted much of the time, so he'll carry a lance too, both as a nod to his Crusader training, and for those times when you just have to charge something - but mostly, his plan is to let the tiger maul things until he can shoot them to death. Utility-wise, he'll be very thorough in Survival, Perception, and Knowledge (nature), with a smattering of Charisma-based skills as well.

For one level - count 'em, one - Tip starts out as a Mad Dog Barbarian, solely to get him the animal companion that's so core to the concept. After that, I think he'll be going for Beastmaster Ranger - not for the multiple animal companion cheese, just so he can still keep Big Cat on his possible list - focusing on Favored Enemy (Demon), and possibly even retraining his first level of Mad Dog into Ranger at some point.

One feats - As soon as the build allows (which is to say, as soon as Point Blank Shot and Precise Shot are accounted for), Tip will take Boon Companion in order to keep Rutha relevant.

Tip's approach to religion is an odd thing. He is very devoted to the church of Iomedae, unsurprisingly given his rescue early on, but in an unorthodox manner. He has a more lighthearted approach to her worship than most of her devoted, occasionally even poking fun at the rigid rituals so important to the Light of the Sword. That being said, he still observes the daily hour of prayer whenever he can, although in his own way, usually a meditation on the nature of the world and his place in it as one of Iomedae's saved.

Despite his unusual attitude, however, he is deeply committed to Iomedae's message of justice and honor, and the church's characteristic idealism when confronted with all manner of horrors.