The Faceless GM's Golarion Apocalypse (Inactive)

Game Master kamenhero25

Ludvic Hearthrend birth was a strange one for his kind in the city of Caliphas . When he was born, not only did his mother survive the birth well in tact but his father was also present for the occasion. The fact that his father was a vampire seemed to matter at all to his mother or the attending physician, though that may have been because of his fathers powers in regard to the doctor. His father was one of the Vampires who had gave his help against the Whispering Tyrant. While most vampires did this to protect their food supply, his father did it as a sense of duty. While not a good man, he worked to never take a human life accidentally, feeding only to survive and never draining completely. Because of this many vampires shunned his family, leaving Ludvic in the care mostly in that of his parents. His father has been able to keep the family afloat through old investments so the family lived very comfortably. Ludvic however never seemed to interested. Because of his slow aging process he was often not allowed out of the house, along with the fact that anyone capable of recognizing his race might hurt him. His mother was his only real connection to the things outside. This lead to him spending much of his time reading through the family library. One of his first loves was the work of Alison Kindler, the dark nature of her stories began to shape the way he looked at life. He had never been able to find anything that really gave his life values,instead it was always a war against the boredom of his existence. Many of the books he looked through studied the various planes as well as the soul. Through his studies he was amazed to find how much personality was apparently lost through death and judgment in the afterlife. One one the many denizens caught his eyes though. Daemons. Even though his parents were wonderful, he was taken care of well, and that his family loved him he never felt happy, simply bored. He had a emptiness that he could never explain away until he came across Daemons and their philosophy. He some how felt like he was able to relate to these monsters and their distaste for existence. He spent much of his days researching these creatures, some times sneaking out form the house to go to the various libraries of the city to read. During these outings on his teenage years he would also begin to pick up strange tag alongs. The city was old and harbored many old spirits. Voices began to follow him, strange whispers that would pop up in silence. Things around him would move on their own and he would often discover that things in his pockets had switched around. His parents did not know what this meant so his father called upon a man whom he believed could help. The man's name was Professor Petros Lorrimor.
He began to speak to the young man about the natures of his powers and helped him to discover his abilities, as well as his curse. Even then though the pleasures he felt from his gifts seemed fleeting. It was not that he hated his life or the pleasure it brought him, he just found that it would grow boring and he would find himself drifting back into a depression. It was on one of these days at river where the Professor would lead him in exploring his magic that he had his first run in with the fear of death. A small group of lesser demons has managed to leak past the wards at the world wound and had slipped into the country. The creatures had stumbled across the pair and attacked. If Petros had not been their he would be dead. This fact shook him very little, in fact the disinterest of whether he lived or died scared him most of all. He did not believe life had a meaning, so why was he bothering with it? That was when he had a dream. In it he was on the side of a raging river full of the sinking dead He saw creatures scooping these poor souls out from the water and ripping into them with a sickening zeal. From the water he saw a skiff slowly growing closer to him, the boatman covered from head to toe in its black outfit. Resting on the side of the river, the creature extended its hand out to bid him on the boat, and in Ludvic's heart he knew that path lead to oblivion. With a smile he extended his hand and stepped onto the boat. The next day after going back to his spot on the river he found a symbol of Charon had washed onto the bank.
From that point he finally had a goal for his life. He would one day die and fall into the pit of oblivion. If that was to be it, then he would become a soul worthy enough to be snuffed out by Charon himself. By that point Petros had gone back to his home and had been murdered. This news had very little impact on his life until it resulted in the rise of the whispering tyrant once more. At that point he saw a opportunity to garner power with the organization. One day as their forces began to spill into the city he approached one of their generals and demonstrated his ability to help heal their undead forces. Beyond this, he also gave them one other present, the location of his father. He had hoped to feel a twinge of guilt or sadness as his father was destroyed and his mother killed. That was yet another disappointment. From that point on he worked with agents of the Tyrant as well as to further the work of his patron as much as possible. The new state of the country met that he could at least finally walk the streets with out worrying about being murdered by it's citizens. The dead portion of his upbringing that once kept him stuck inside now let him walk the streets to his own content. Upon hearing word that their would soon be a meeting in Absolam he knew this would be a important part of the worlds future. Gathering as many supplies as he could, he started off on his journey. He knew that if the demons had their way that the souls falling to the lower planes would not end up in the maw of his Lord. This was something he hoped to fix as he found his way to the so called center of the world.

Ludvic Hearthrend's birth was a strange one for his kind in the city of Caliphas . When he was born, not only did his mother survive the birth well intact but his father was also present for the occasion. The fact that his father was a vampire seemed not to matter at all to his mother or the attending physician, though that may have been because of his fathers powers in regard to the doctor.

His father was one of the Vampires who had gave his help against the Whispering Tyrant. While most vampires did this to protect their food supply, his father did it as a sense of duty. While not a good man, he worked to never take a human life accidentally, feeding only to survive and never draining completely. Because of this many vampires shunned his family, leaving Ludvic in the care mostly in that of his parents. His father has been able to keep the family afloat through old investments so the family lived very comfortably.

Ludvic however never seemed to interested. Because of his slow aging process he was often not allowed out of the house, along with the fact that anyone capable of recognizing his race might hurt him. His mother was his only real connection to the things outside. This lead to him spending much of his time reading through the family library. One of his first loves was the work of Alison Kindler, the dark nature of her stories began to shape the way he looked at life. He had never been able to find anything that really gave his life values,instead it was always a war against the boredom of his existence. Many of the books he looked through studied the various planes as well as the soul. Through his studies he was amazed to find how much personality was apparently lost through death and judgment in the afterlife.

One of the many denizens caught his eyes though. Daemons. Even though his parents were wonderful, he was taken care of well, and that his family loved him he never felt happy, simply bored. He had an emptiness that he could never explain away until he came across Daemons and their philosophy. He somehow felt like he was able to relate to these monsters and their distaste for existence. He spent much of his days researching these creatures, sometimes sneaking out from the house to go to the various libraries of the city to read. During these outings on his teenage years he would also begin to pick up strange tag alongs. The city was old and harbored many old spirits. Voices began to follow him, strange whispers that would pop up in silence. Things around him would move on their own and he would often discover that things in his pockets had switched around. His parents did not know what this meant so his father called upon a man whom he believed could help. The man's name was Professor Petros Lorrimor.

He began to speak to the young man about the natures of his powers and helped him to discover his abilities, as well as his curse. Even then though the pleasures he felt from his gifts seemed fleeting. It was not that he hated his life or the pleasure it brought him, he just found that it would grow boring and he would find himself drifting back into a depression. It was on one of these days at river where the Professor would lead him in exploring his magic that he had his first run in with the fear of death. A small group of lesser demons has managed to leak past the wards at the world wound and had slipped into the country. The creatures had stumbled across the pair and attacked. If Petros had not been there he would be dead. This fact shook him very little, in fact the disinterest of whether he lived or died scared him most of all. He did not believe life had a meaning, so why was he bothering with it?

That was when he had a dream. In it he was on the side of a raging river full of the sinking dead. He saw creatures scooping these poor souls out from the water and ripping into them with a sickening zeal. From the water he saw a skiff slowly growing closer to him, the boatman covered from head to toe in its black outfit. Resting on the side of the river, the creature extended its hand out to bid him on the boat, and in Ludvic's heart he knew that path lead to oblivion. With a smile he extended his hand and stepped onto the boat. The next day after going back to his spot on the river he found a symbol of Charon had washed onto the bank.

From that point he finally had a goal for his life. He would one day die and fall into the pit of oblivion. If that was to be it, then he would become a soul worthy enough to be snuffed out by Charon himself. By that point Petros had gone back to his home and had been murdered. This news had very little impact on his life until it resulted in the rise of the Whispering Tyrant once more. At that point he saw a opportunity to garner power with the organization.

One day as their forces began to spill into the city he approached one of their generals and demonstrated his ability to help heal their undead forces. Beyond this, he also gave them one other present, the location of his father. He had hoped to feel a twinge of guilt or sadness as his father was destroyed and his mother killed. That was yet another disappointment. From that point on he worked with agents of the Tyrant as well as to further the work of his patron as much as possible. The new state of the country meant that he could at least finally walk the streets with out worrying about being murdered by its citizens.

The dead portion of his upbringing that once kept him stuck inside now let him walk the streets to his own content. Upon hearing word that there would soon be a meeting in Absalom he knew this would be an important part of the worlds future. Gathering as many supplies as he could, he started off on his journey. He knew that if the demons had their way that the souls falling to the lower planes would not end up in the maw of his Lord. This was something he hoped to fix as he found his way to the so called center of the world.

4d6 ⇒ (3, 1, 2, 6) = 12 11
4d6 ⇒ (3, 4, 4, 5) = 16 13
4d6 ⇒ (5, 1, 5, 1) = 12 11
4d6 ⇒ (1, 4, 2, 1) = 8 7
4d6 ⇒ (1, 6, 1, 5) = 13 12
4d6 ⇒ (3, 4, 4, 2) = 13 11

4d6 ⇒ (4, 1, 6, 1) = 12 11
4d6 ⇒ (2, 3, 5, 1) = 11 10
4d6 ⇒ (6, 2, 1, 3) = 12 11
4d6 ⇒ (2, 5, 1, 4) = 12 11
4d6 ⇒ (4, 3, 6, 3) = 16 13
4d6 ⇒ (1, 2, 4, 6) = 13 12

4d6 ⇒ (6, 4, 1, 2) = 13 12
4d6 ⇒ (2, 6, 2, 6) = 16 14
4d6 ⇒ (6, 2, 4, 4) = 16 14
4d6 ⇒ (1, 1, 2, 3) = 7 6
4d6 ⇒ (3, 1, 2, 2) = 8 7
4d6 ⇒ (6, 4, 1, 5) = 16 15

4d6 ⇒ (4, 1, 6, 3) = 14 13
4d6 ⇒ (2, 3, 6, 6) = 17 15
4d6 ⇒ (5, 1, 5, 1) = 12 11
4d6 ⇒ (1, 3, 5, 5) = 14 13
4d6 ⇒ (4, 6, 3, 2) = 15 13
4d6 ⇒ (5, 4, 2, 1) = 12 11

4d6 ⇒ (6, 5, 1, 5) = 17 16
4d6 ⇒ (4, 5, 5, 3) = 17 14
4d6 ⇒ (3, 3, 5, 1) = 12 11
4d6 ⇒ (6, 5, 3, 6) = 20 17
4d6 ⇒ (5, 3, 6, 3) = 17 14
4d6 ⇒ (3, 6, 6, 1) = 16 15

The Caromarc family claims to be able to trace their lineage back to the first days of Soividia Ustav himself, making the unlikely assertion that their noble line extends back to before the founding of Ustalav itself.

Charlotte can certainly recite the names of hundreds of dead ancestors all the way back to one of Ustav's heroic companions, but there is a point at which any possibility of verification is impossible and the names just have to be taken on faith. It is indisputable, though, that the Caromarcs were a powerful family within Ustalav. Specifically in Vieland, where Charlotte's uncle, Alpon Caromarc, served as lord of the region bordering for decades before abdicating in the face of peasant unrest.

With a lineage of lords in the dangerous county bordering both the Tusk Mountains and the Worldwound, Charlotte and almost all of her relatives have fought in border skirmishes against orcs or demons at one point or another. Charlotte's oldest brother died fighting a demonic invasion, and her next oldest was crippled in the same battle.

While she is familiar with armor and shield and can swing a wicked morningstar, Charlotte's real strength is her connection to the power of the divine. Through sheer force of personality she can reanimate the corpses of her slain foes, forcing them to attack their former allies and protect hers. Her secret- and the secret of all the Caromarc women before Tar Baphon's re-awakening- was that their connection to undeath transcended mere magic and had become a matrilineal worship of Urgathoa and followers of the Whispering Way.

When Tar Baphon rose her mother, sisters, aunts, and female cousins all cautioned their menfolk that the Whispering Tyrant's forces were too powerful and cooperation was more likely to be successful than fighting. So the Caromarcs laid low and survived, even prospered, as the Tyrant focused on the south. It was the demons that ruined them. They poured out of the Worldwound like the ocean, wave after wave after wave. Still lords even if not in name, they fought, scattered across the border, until Tar Baphon shored up the line to secure his hold on Ustalav. Charlotte returned home to find her father a shattered wreck, poisoned and permanently scarred and mute by some vile demonic gas, her eldest brother torn apart by demonic claws, and her next older brother walking with a limp un-healable by divine magic.

It was the demons that convinced the women to come out of hiding, publicly embracing the teachings of the Whispering Way- ostensibly as a method of ingratiating themselves to Tar Baphon's hordes and surviving the invasion. The Caromarcs' public embrace of the Tyrant's philosophy, ancient lineage, military history, and divine and arcane talent got them noticed by Tar Baphon, but it was Charlotte's drive and ambition that got her inducted into the Tyrant's service.

Charlotte learned magic through her mother's whispers in the night. Undeath is method through which she and her family can survive, not just the demonic invasion, but any trials sent against them, even death itself. Some call it unnatural, but who is to say what is natural? A vampire, lich, or even some ghosts are sentient- is that not enough to call life? Why should they abide by the years allotted to a single human lifespan?

Charlotte's goal is to live, better herself, and protect her family. She about herself first, her family and friends second, and anyone else only to the extent they can help her.

One has to bide one's time, work quietly behind the scenes, and take advantage where others can't see. She is far from an unpleasant person. Quite the opposite, in fact. It's hard to get people to help you when you're complaining and frowning all the time. Charlotte can be very pleasant and apparently open and friendly. When she's with friends or family or when she wants something, that is.

Some people might say she's immoral or dishonorable, but she would never dream of cheating a companion or letting a family member die destitute and alone. Stabbing an opponent in the back or animating their corpse after they fall, though, that's just taking opportunity of an obvious advantage.

Given her outlook, it's understandable that she is slow to extend her trust to others. But that trust, once given, is unshakable. It's how she lives, after all. Trust and take care of you and yours and everybody else better watch out for themselves.

Charlotte is a statuesque beauty, with dark hair, dark eyes, and fair skin. After a demon nearly broke her neck with her long hair caught in its fist, she keeps her hair cut short in a warrior's cut and her tall frame still holds much of the muscularity she gained from constant battle. She holds herself proudly- some would say haughtily- every inch a nobleman's daughter and trained and blooded officer.

Regardless of her other clothes- in armor, a noblewoman's gown, or a simple scholar's robe- she always proudly wears a black opal ring with her family's crest cunningly incised on it, sign of her strong attachment to an ancient family.

Standing five feet and ten inches tall and possessed of a slender build, Alistair does not exactly make for an imposing figure. Still, he is agile and in good shape and health, despite his rather pale complexion. This latter characteristic along with his raven black shoulder length hair and sharp features is evidence enough of his Chelaxian descent, even if his deep purple eyes are not exactly common among his people.

Generally dressed in fitted clothes of mostly black and other dark hues, clothes which are lined with several concealed pockets, the pale Chelaxian is almost never seen without a pair of black soft leather gloves and a black hooded cloak complementing the rest of his attire. He appears to carry little to nothing in the way of weapons; no sword or bow, no staff, no spellbook or pouch of spell components. Still, he does keep a cold iron dagger in a spring loaded wrist sheath hidden beneath his right sleeve, just in case. Other that that, a couple of belt pouches and a well-made backpack full of various useful items make up the rest of his belongings. And perhaps a fine chain shirt made of mithral beneath his clothes, light enough to be no hindrance and subtle enough to not show.

Alistair is fundamentally a good man, even a kind man, who, at his core, dislikes bullies and disapproves of slavery; that does not necessarily mean, however, that he is a nice man. Generally polite and soft-spoken, there is a certain detachment and perhaps even coldness about him to the point of making him appear aloof, a fact that when combined with his snarky wit and dry sense of humor does not make him easily likeable. Other than that he is also curious and inquisitive, traits that have fueled not only his somewhat scholarly inclination and the questions he has regarding his abilities, but also his research and his traveling about the world in search of answers to those questions. Ever practical, he approaches problems, challenges and even fights in a calm and controlled way, at least as much as he can depending on the circumstances. Finally, and perhaps thanks in no small part to this practical nature of his, although he acknowledges the gods and respects their power and influence, he does not however venerate or worship any particular one.

A City of Stars and Twilight

Alistair's life began a little over thirty years ago in the city of Westcrown, a metropolis of Cheliax. An orphan from the beginning, he was born to an unknown father and a mother who lost her life just as she gave him his. Still, he did not remain parentless for long, neither did he stay at the orphanage that took him in for more than barely a year, as he was adopted soon enough by a couple of no small means, Petronicus and Valeria Cray, who among other things took a liking to the baby's deep purple eyes.

Law-abiding and proud Chelaxians that they were, they were nevertheless good people and, quite unlike the majority of their compatriots, very much against slavery, even if they did not make their beliefs known. Still, they did manage to instill such notions to Alistair, while at the same time providing him with the education expected of their wealth. Indeed, their loved their son, even after -and much to their surprise- Valeria gave them a boy of their own. Even so, they did not favor one over the other, a fact that did not sit entirely well with young Ursion, making the relationship between the two boys more than a little complicated and strained. But there was a bond between them, a bond that extended to the older brother on occasion defending the younger from bullies. And it was during one such occasion that it happened.

Morvius Ambusta was a boy of noble birth and a year older than Ursion; and he had a mean streak. And he used to push Alistair's younger brother around every chance he got, using the fact that the eldest son was adopted to insult him and his family. Alistair, in his late teens by then, would separate them, usually ending the fight before it began, but there were times when he was not there or he was not quick enough. And on such a time, things escalated, with Morvius having brought friends in order to teach Ursion and Alistair a lesson. Now, Alistair might have been older, but he was hardly large or imposing, and the Ambusta boy had quite a few others with him. His brother was wrestled to the ground and then something hit him, probably a stone. And then... then the air around Alistair distorted as the shadows thickened and the pebbles on the street either levitated or were crushed into dust. And Morvius' legs buckled and then broke, as if some great pressure was being applied on them from all directions. The others' screams, Ursion's included, was the last thing Alistair heard before unconsciousness claimed him.

The next few months Alistair remained in his family's house, on the one hand in an attempt to avoid repercussions from Morvius' friends, and on the other reading and trying to make sense of what had happened. The best he could come up with was sorcery; he knew the Crays were not his real parents, so perhaps there was magic in his real family's blood. But he could cast no spells no matter how hard he tried and the books in his house would provide only so much information. That simple fact, along with what could be interpreted as worry and perhaps even fear in his brother's and parents' eyes, led him to a simple enough conclusion.

If no answers could be had here and with Westcrown not being entirely safe for him, then he would leave and seek those answers elsewhere.

Journey to the Center of the World

By the time he reached Absalom he no longer believed sorcery to be the correct answer. The time he spent in the so-called Patchwork City and its many libraries, some of which he may or may not have snuck in after closing time, all but confirmed that. He stayed there for a time, trying to glean as much information as he could while making a living by either using his almost uncanny dexterity in streets and taverns alongside other performers or taking advantage of the various subject he had studied growing up and hiring himself off as a scholar of sorts. Still, as time passed and not enough answers presented themselves, Alistair started growing frustrated. Until he met Akhren Taliart, a sage residing in the Wise Quarter. He spent quite some time in his company discussing and debating until the man suggested that his abilities might have a planar connection. What is more, he offered a couple of suggestions about where Alistair should travel next. The Chelaxian man was gone the very next day.

One Hundred and One Nights

Jalmeray was... a strange place, but it was to be expected from an island dubbed the Kingdom of the Impossible. He had studied his fair share of planar lore by then, especially after Akhren's comments about a possible connection, and when he met Jayazi, a Vudrani woman who could manipulate fire, confirmation was at last his. According to her, they were kineticists, people who could manipulate the elements, or, in their case, an element. Having much more experience than he in the use of her abilites, she became a teacher of sorts, and, as days and weeks passed, something more. Still, she could train him only so much, as, while the basic principles were the same, his connection was to something other than the usual elements Jayazi was familiar with. Truth be told, he did not want to leave. But his desire and need to find out more, to become more skilled at controlling his abilities, was greater than what he felt for her. And the sage he had met in Absalom had pointed out one more place to him.

The Land of Three Fires and the House of One

It took Alistair quite some time to reach Tian Xia in general and even more to reach Minkai specifically. And in that time there were things and events beginning to stir in more than one place, events that would shape the world in the coming months and years. And some of those news did reach his ears, but he thought little of them, his attention almost entirely focused on his own quest of sorts.

Like Jalmeray, here too there were people with abilities and powers similar to his own. And eventually he managed to track down one particular man by the name of Zaiho, half-crazed and half-burnt, whose power manifested in the form of black flames, flames that burnt but seemed to at the same time be without substance. Alistair spoke with him, the man's words consisting of both coherent sentences and jibberish. But when he did make sense, he said enough that, when combined with Alistair's own research so far, it led him to believe that the element the Tian-Min man controlled was not one, but two; fire and what could best be described as the void, the darkness between worlds and stars and the substance of the Plane of Negative Energy itself. But that was not all he said, as he then talked of the ruins of Shojinawa Manor, the black flames that destroyed it and the curse they left behind. There is little else he spoke of after that, as he suddenly turned on Alistair. The Chelaxian barely escaped with his life, but he did take with him knowledge of a place that could hold the final piece of the puzzle. A small consolation, as he very quickly found out he would never make it to that final destination, instead having to flee from the country, the continent even.

War had come to the Empire of Dawn.

You Can't Go Home Again

Although he had decided to finally make his way back home, having been away from it for many a year, the world was a much different place. Places he had passed through on his journey from the West to the East were not the same anymore on the way back. Evils old and new had surfaced and laid claim to towns and cities and empires, carving out territories and domains. The news he had not put too much stock in when he had first heard them were proving to be all too true. And when he finally reached Cheliax, he saw that things had changed there too; even if, at least in this case, the saying that "the more things change the more they stay the same" still held true more or less. Asmodeus was getting more directly involved in the governance of Infernal Cheliax, a moniker more deserving now more than ever.

Westcrown had not fared much better. A while before Asmodeus himself made his move, Mammon had taken the City of Twilight for his own. Alistair did not enter his birthplace, but he did send word to his parents that he was still alive and well before he left again, at the same time finding out a few things about them and his brother. His father and mother were still living in Westcrown and were safe, although the change did not leave them unscathed, their holdings and wealth having diminished greatly. Ursion, his brother, had joined the Hellknights in the years of his absence and now was stationed at Citadel Demain near Egorian, an officer, and a very capable one at that, of the Order of the Scourge. As for Morvius, the bully who was the first to get a taste of Alistair's powers, all he found out is that he was thriving in Mammon-controlled Westcrown.

Now

Alistair resides in Absalom now, having been living in the large city for the last couple of years. As he found out all that time ago, it provides many an opportunity to make a living, and its places of study and the old sage prove great distractions from the state of things the world is in, especially after what happened at the Worldwound. But he knows even this place and the relative safety it provides will probably not last forever. Certainly the... lesser -relatively speaking- evils of the world are willing to work with what good remains in the face of the demons now threatening everything, or at least that is what the rumors of a conference between representatives of the various empires that have reached his ears speak of. A practical man, he understands the need for such an alliance, even if he does find it more than a little distasteful considering his family's and birthplace's circumstances.

Regardless, if this meeting is to be the beginning of something that could pull the world back from the brink? Then he is determined to be there to at the very least witness it.

1. What does your character look like? (Height, weight, age, appearance, etc.)
Elek Kardforgató Is a 25 year old knight in the ‘Order of the Light’. In modern times the order should be called the ‘Cheliax Order of the Light of Aroden’ but when it was founded, hundreds of years ago, it seemed obvious to them that it was Cheliaxian and dedicated to Aroden. Little did they know. With his pale skin, high forehead, raven black hair, worn shoulder length, and his dark grey eyes he is obviously of Chelish decent.

He is six foot tall with a barrel chest, thick shoulders, arms and wrists and long fingers. His face bears the marks of combat: a broken nose, a scar on his chin that looks like a cleft and a burn on the right side of his head that has knarled his earlobe. His hands and wrists are marked by several scars and a couple of broken fingers.

His wardrobe is military in nature. His basic uniform is the orders blue double breasted waistcoat with a white ascot, white riding breaches and brown riding boots. When weather demands He will wear a brown hooded cloak, clasped with the sigil of the order in silver. When in the field over this uniform he will wearing his breastplate armor, which is engraved with the sigil of the order; the eye of Aroden inside the circle-cross of Cheliax. If the breastplate is not appropriate he will wear he parade armor which is similar in design.

2. What is your character’s personality?
The Myers-Briggs scale would have Elek as “ESFJ - The Caregiver”

Warm-hearted, popular, and conscientious. Tend to put the needs of others over their own needs. Feel strong sense of responsibility and duty. Value traditions and security. Interested in serving others. Need positive reinforcement to feel good about themselves. Well-developed sense of space and function.

Though very friendly and outgoing, He remains conservative, organized and disciplined while looking to serve the greater good. His order was committed to combating the worldwound following the example Aroden demonstrated in combating the avatar of the demon lord Deskari and drive him and his followers into the Lake of Mists and Veils. As the last living member of the order to his knowledge while committed to the task of defeating the worldwound he realizes that other methods need to be considered.

3. Where is your character from? Golarion has changed a lot in the last few years. Where you are from can mean a lot about who your character is.

The order sent the majority of it’s members with the First Mendevian Crusade. Who set up a permanent camp outside of Kenabres. When it was obvious that House Thrune would take the throne the remainder of the orders members left Citadel Deamin and joined their brethren in Kenabres. When Kenabres fell the few remaining knights alive engaged in a fighting retreat until they were wiped out. Elek had been sent by his mentor to inform the other combatants and to ask for assistance. When he returned the battle was over and his unit was desimated.

Elek, while he is of Chelish decent and considers himself Chelish he has never been to Cheliax and he understands he would not be excepted there, representing everything that the ‘revisionists’ want Cheliax to forget. All he knows is Kenabres, the worldwound and the Order of Light.

4. Why does your character have the class, feats, weapon, etc. that they do? Where and how did they learn to fight? What made them take up this path?

Elek was raised as part of a military order. The order, proud of it’s heritage, taught its knights details in history. His physical skills lent more to combat than magic. His quick reactions suited him for lighter armor, lighter cavalry and a quicker fighting style. His compact size and hand strength made the longer bastard sword something he could handle. Being the page of a cavalry officer he worked around the camp enjoying the care of horses. As his combat training continued he learned to focus his energy and the gifting’s of the :Bloodrager” were found. When he blood rages his eyes turn violet and he has an aura of light that causes him to look angelic, casting a shadow with wings.

5. Is your character religious? If so, who do they worship and why?

He is religious, He follows Aroden, believing that he is being silent, almost like a father who grounds a disobedient child. Like his order he believes that if his actions and behaviors reflect those of Aroden then Aroden may begin speaking again. The number of Aasimar, paladins of light, celestial sorcerers and celestial blood ragers in the order were seen as verification of this belief.

6. How has your character's life changed in the last few years? What has the changing world done to your character and what do you intend to do about it?

Elek sees himself as the last of the order. After the fall of his order he committed himself to near suicidal missions. As his grief and self-loathing started to wain he resolved to continue the call of his order and to represent it well until his death. He is committed to the tenants of Arodens: Community, Law, Protection, Knowledge and Glory and he believes that the protection of humanity is his greatest opportunity. He believes that what the crusades have been doing are failing and a new approach is needed.

The Faceless GM
I hand intended in writing four ‘vignettes’ describing Elek’s family, order, fighting style, knighting and existence since the ending of his order. Unfortunately, Tuesday a 93 year old friend of mine had passed away. My wife and I had spent a lot of time with him because his children have moved. So now we are helping them set up the service next week. I know I still have three days to finish the vignettes hoping to impress you enough to get my swordsman in the adventure. but I find it difficult to be creative with other stuff on the brain, like I said reasons not excuses. I’m still going to post the first one here and hopefully I can get a couple more done.

Elek walked into the simple camp tent, the old instructor stood with his back to the door, sorting through a selection of books on the table. Sitting down in the folding wood chair, continuing to look around the semi-permanent tent with its several shelves and folding tables with stacks and stacks of books ’He’s a Signifer in the order himself, but he still takes the time to impart knowledge.’ The sound of the large leather bound book landing on the table quickly got Elek’s attention.

The lean, almost gaunt pale skinned man sat across from the youth taking off his spectacles, cleaning them with a silk kerchief he began, not bothering to read from the tome he had selected. ”The revisionists would have you believe that the Order of the Rack was the first knightly order in Cheliax. While it is true Ruel formed them in 4577 but since he left our order to form the Rack they cannot be the first order! Hah” The old instructor points his spectacles at Elek, smiling like a lawyer who just made a case winning argument. “ Our order is much older. The Order of Light was formed nearly 600 years before by King Apex. He combined the finest of Cheliax: Wizards, Knights, Men-at –Arms, even un-landed peasants who were good with bow or pike and united them under the banner of Cheliax and the cause of Aroden. He made our tenants the same as Arodens: Community, Law, Protection, Knowledge and Glory. And in that order too!” Tapping his finger on the table ”Not Law and personal glory, like those damn devil worshipers revisionists desire.” He smiles ’I’d say they can go to hell but there already trying too! Ha” Laughing at his own joke, putting his glasses back on.

”Where was I? Chelish finest, glory of Aroden, oh yes, Our insignia.” pointing at the buttons on Elek’s uniform jacket with his right hand and tugging at one of his own with his left. ”Look at your buttons boy, go ahead, look at them. You’ll notice they have the same insignia as every breastplate of every knight in the order. ” Elek looked down at his round silver buttons, knowing what he would see: on the outside the circle cross of Cheliax, on the inside the eye of Aroden. Farkas nods his head ”Inside the eye of Aroden and outside the circle cross of Cheliax protecting it! And not that red and black flag that the blasted revisionists wave. This was before the diabalists.”

Looking off into the distance momentarily, the instructor continued. ” The flag was described as Azure, with argent charge of the circle-cross. So that’s a royal blue field with a white circle cross over laying it. That’s why your uniform pants are white and your double breasted jacket is blue.” As the elderly gentleman stops for a moment Elek raises his hand, Farkas lifts his chin slightly acknowledging the raised hand. Elek quickly asks ”The Jacket and pants are these colors to recognize the real flag of Cheliax. Why are the boots and belt tan?” The gentleman looks at the boy for a moment ”Cause that’s what color leather is boy, it’s brown, Why would we waste our time making good brown leather some other color? Just so it would match our cloths?” Shaking his head at the question he continues.

”So King Aspex saw the wisdom in making a military order connected to both the kingdom and the church. That’s one of the reasons why the worship of Aroden shifted from Taldor to Cheliax. Also Aspex made service in the order important. He encouraged nobility to send their children both sons and daughters into the order, especially third and fourth born children or bastards who would not inherit. It kept the noble families from squabbling since members of the order cannot inherit. It also was seen as a good option for peasants who were talented enough or valuable enough in wartime. Everyone received the same pension; the same amount of land, the same amount of gold. King Aspex was a smart one he was. No peasants or nobles in the order Just rank and file based on ability.”

Farkas slams both his hands on the folding table with a bang, Elek, surprised, jumps in his seat. ”Those blasted revisionists want to give credit to Aligois Thels for implementing ranks and organization based on the ancient legions of Jistka. Actually, he copied it from our order. King Aspex used the Jistka ranking from the beginning. It’s just that Daidian Ruel hated us so much that he refused to copy us. Thels was at least smart enough to figure out that if he copied our methods, making it more familiar, that it would be easier to get other non-believers to join their order. Even then they had dozens and we had thousands.”

Looking at the boy he continued ”Armigers compose the order's largest population and they are not yet full members of the order. As you well know, of course you are a legacy Armiger since one of your parents are a member of the order.” Elek knew better than to interrupt to add that both his parents were members. ” Signifers are knights of the order who are capable in the arcane arts. Knights are the rank-and-file of the order. Maralictors are officers ranking below the paralictors. Paralictors are officers ranking below the master of blades or the paravicar. Paravicar is the leader of an order's signifers, equal in rank to a master or mistress of blades and answers only to the lictor of the order. The master of blades or mistress of blades is the field marshal and answers only to the lictor of the order. The lector, or vicarious if he is risen of the signifers, is the general of the order.” Farkas paused to make sure Elek was listening.

Mom is Paravicar and father is a Paralictor under the master of blades. Sir Kronug, fathers good friend, who I will be page to soon, is a Maralictor. Elek’s thought are interrupted by master Farkas’ question. ”Do you know the ranks well enough that I can go on?” Having heard the titles all is life, used by; parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and frankly by anyone and everyone he knew, he nods his head yes.

Nodding in acknowledgement Farkas continued ”Now look at your buttons again, how many do you see on each side? Well go on boy how many?” Elek pulled the blue waistcoat down and counted the buttons quickly, he knew there were six but be quickly double checked, then answered ”Six sir.” Farkas nodded ”Do you know why?” Elek, still annoyed with the instructors leather comment, answers. ”Because there are six holes on each side of the jacket, sir.” Farkas glares at Elek briefly then answers, ”Don’t be cheeky, boy. It’s because there are six ranks on each side of the Order. Mundane soldiers, be they: cavalry, infantry, artillery, scouts or engineers are Knights like your father. They are represented by the buttons on the right. The purveyors of Magic be they: wizards, sorcerers, psychics, oracles, clerics or bards are branched with your mother and the buttons on the left represent those six ranks. Twelve buttons total, twelve possible ranks, elegantly simple.”

Master Farkas looked at Elek for a moment and then observed, ”I see you intend to follow your father into the Knights” It wasn’t a question. Elek looked at the wizard for a moment and nodded, ’How did he know?’ Farkas smiled, ”Did you ever notice the difference between your fathers double breasted waistcoat and your mothers, other than the obvious size and shape?” Elek nodded his head and answered quickly. ”Mothers buttons over the left side and fathers buttons over the right.” ”Did you ever wonder why” continued Farkas. Elek nods his head no, beginning to voice his assumption. ”Ones for boys and ones for…” as he is speaking he notices for the first time that master Farkas’ waistcoat also buttons over the left side, ”Aahhh, the way they button over, right side weapons, left side magic, that’s how mom and dad always know if someone is a knight or a signifer.” Farkas smiles at Elek ”Well enough about ancient Fashion, are you ready to continue with history?” Elek, tickled that he figured out the jacket design without being told, nodded his head.

Master Farkas contiued ”Now I will get to what I like to refer to as “The Late Unpleasantness”. King Gaspodar was a great friend to The Order of Light. It is said that the many bastards he fathered were all entered into the Order. Cleaning his spectacle again, he continued. ”The revisionists have completely wiped out all History of the Order of Light from the annuls of Cheliax. Let me give you an example. These so called historians claim the creation of Citadel Demain was built by King Gaspodar in 4590 AR. Citadel Deamin was several hundred years old when Good King Daspodar had it Remodeled in 4590 AR. Not built. If you were to travel to Rova and examine the foundations you would see the castle is much older. However the revisionist cannot admit that the castle belonged to us, as a matter of fact most of the castles the Hellknight call home were bastions of the Order of Light. Now the revisionists are correct that the Order of the Scourge took up residence there in 4639. Aligois Thels hated the order as much as Daidian Ruel ever did, when he saw the opportunity to occupy the flower of the Orders lands he took it.” Putting his spectacles back on he continued.

”As you know, when Aroden stopped speaking to his children; The Worldwound began its encroachment. Many, in the Order, believed our actions should reflect those of Aroden, and just as he had gone into the Abyss to slay the demon-lord Ibdurengian; we should go to the worldwound to fight the evil vomiting forth there. When the First Mendevian Crusade was announced the Order of Light poured forth from its bastions and citadels to be the vanguard of the crusade. Only a few administrators were left in Cheliax there in Citadel Deamin to orchestrate resupplying.” He paused for a moment looking Elek clearly in the eyes, then continued his voice rising a little as he talked.”You don’t hear the revisionists telling that story do you. It was after we the ‘Order of Light’ went to fight the threat to humankind, just as Aroden had before us so many centuries ago, that the ‘Hellknights’ became the power in Cheliax, lickdogs of the diabolists. Farkas cleared his throat, and began in his regular voice. ”When it became apparent that ‘House Thrune’ was going to win the throne the remaining members of the Order joined their brethren here in Kenabres. When we left Cheliax the Order of the Scourge moved into Citadel Demain and the revisionists began spinning their fables.”

Master Farkas breathed a heavy sigh, looking around his semi-permanent tent, closing the book, and moving out of his chair to put it back on it’s over stacked table. Elek knew that the lecture was over for the day. Nodding to his instructor, he stood, straightening his royal blue waistcoat excusing himself he left the tent.

Charlotte Caromarc-Gammel
Female LE Human Cleric, Level 3, Init , HP 33/33, Speed
AC 18, Touch 10, Flat-footed 18, CMD 14, Fort 5, Ref 1, Will 6, CMB +4, Base Attack Bonus 2
Cold Iron MW Morningstar +5 (1d8+2, x2)
MW Breastplate, Heavy Steel Shield (+6 Armor, +2 Shield)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 11, Con 15, Int 14, Wis 16, Cha 19
Condition None