Vodvel Chironi's page

”Seems to me there are more living souls in need of exorcism than dead ones.”
When Vodvel Chironi moved back in to his family’s farmhouse on the outskirts of Roslar’s Coffer, he unwittingly caused a panic among the local children. The abandoned building had long been said to be haunted by the spirits of the queer Ustalavic family who had died there in the orc attack; the sudden appearance of lamplight in its high windows fit with the young ones' worst imaginings. Vodvel heard of this on the first trip he made to market, and gave a short bark of laughter. He’d fled the terrors of the town for much of his life; now he had become one. He did his best not to disappoint the children, giving them a theatrically sinister stare whenever the opportunity presented itself. He knew from their delighted shrieks that he’d be a popular diversion on slow summer days.

Roslar’s Coffer was much smaller and duller than it loomed in his imagination. It couldn’t compare to the great, smoky cities of Ustalav, where his aunt Velna had taken him after they alone of their family escaped the orcs' butchery. To walled Tamrivena, where they’d found refuge among the gentle healers of the Pharasman church. To the holy city Kavapesta, where as a novice healer himself, he’d witnessed how the acceptance of suffering can ennoble the spirit. To sprawling Caliphas, where at Havenguard Asylum he’d tried to put his new skills to use soothing the haunted minds of a hundred pitiful mad souls.

It was aunt Velna who set him on the path back to Roslar’s Coffer. Velna, who kept to the oldest Varisian ways, was a card-reader and a caravan-traveler. She did not harmonize with the rest of the Chironi family, a minor branch of nobility who were ingloriously evicted from their border estate when the Palintates of Ustalav overthrew their nobles. Proud and bitter, the family relocated to the Lastwall border, stubbornly clinging to their duties as wardens against invading orcs as the last remnant of their former greatness. The Chironis made excellent farmers, reaping profits from great fields of flax, but despite their long tradition of forestry and ranging, failed as the town’s sentinels, providing little warning of the Twisted Nails’ attack. They paid the price of that failure, dying horribly in the fields and the house, from the aged patriarch and matriarch of the clan down to young Vodvel’s infant cousins. A twist of his aunt’s Varisian magic saved him and her—barely—but he saw them die. He’s seen them die a thousand times in his memory.

“You must put them to rest,” said his aunt, visiting him at Havenguard. ”How can you presume to offer peace to these wretches when you can find none for yourself?”

Recognizing the wisdom of her advice, Vodvel has returned to the town which filled his memory with so much horror, and has found much he had forgotten. The ethereal blue beauty of a wind-blown flax field. The cool, clean water of a swiftly flowing river. The endless mystery of the wide night sky. Bit by bit, memories of horror are receding as memories of a loving childhood return to him.

As he heals, Vodvel considers an idea that has been growing inside him. His Pharasman training included a study of the rites and methods of exorcism, a subject for which he showed remarkable aptitude. But so many of the undead horrors of his homeland—ghasts and ghosts, spectres and wraiths, poltergeists and haunts—rose from the graves of troubled and desperate people. What the world needed was more people focused on resolving their neighbors’ troubles before they died. He saw it plain—perhaps others would as well? Could he find such people, and help them help others?

GM, I know you’re asking for what adventuring and combat role Vodvel will play, and that’s easy enough to answer. With a generous amount of skill points, high wisdom, and a focus in dexterity, he’ll be a strong tracker, scout, and sentinel with a smattering of social skills. His default combat role will be archer, but as an inquisitor he can switch to melee combat or spells when it is advantageous.

I’d also like to tell you what I see his role in the party dynamic will be. Vodvel will take an interest in his party members’ spiritual health. He won’t be out to convert them to Pharasma; instead, he’ll figure out what their fears and regrets are, and push them to confront and resolve them. I think this will help keep a party focus on roleplay and character development.

Vodvel is a short, fit man who wears forester’s garb dyed a dark gray. He keeps his prematurely gray long hair and pointed beard trimmed in a Varisian style. He meets everyone’s gaze frankly, and though he smiles often, it never seems to reach his furrowed brow. There is a frantic energy to the way he speaks—he contorts his face and gesticulates wildly during even the most commonplace conversation, making him seem a bit of a lunatic.

Vodvel is the epitome of the wounded healer—or perhaps haunted exorcist might be a better term. Scarred by childhood trauma and loss, he feels compelled to help others overcome their own inner demons. He also inherited his family’s noblesse oblige towards the common people of Lastwall and Ustalav, and takes responsibility for the security of the borders of their lands.

For my roleplaying resume, let me first direct you to my PbP character Geborah the Laughing Pyre. I hope that will demonstrate my experience and dedication to the form. I'm not in a dozen PbP games, and never will be; I prefer to focus my time and energy on one or two high-quality games at a time. So long as I don't feel like I'm monopolizing the game, I'm fine with posting once or more every day.

I've been a player and GM for thirty years or so. My favorite RPG experiences have always been with people who really throw themselves into the game--you get out what you put in, I've found, and when you get a bunch of people feeding each other energy, that's when the real fun starts. Perhaps you'll find my notes on a Carrion Crown campaign I ran indicative of my gaming style.