Bloodrager Origins

[The NPC]

So the bloodrager is on of the two classes I am most looking forward to. So besides "My ancestor boinked a blanks and that just gets my dander right up" what are some origin ideas that the lot of you have thought up?

For me there are two in my head currently.

-"Many of the common folk talk of demons living in the mountains to the west. Generations ago they would sweep out from their hidden lair in caves and valleys to pillage and defile. Yes, there hasn't been an attack from their in a long while, but the silence that pervades those passes is unnatural and between you and me i'd rather not tempt fate."

There is a kellid tribe that long acted as a disreputable mercenary troupe. They were not the best of sorts but they never did anything to warrant a charge of war crimes. They took demons as a name and used that to fuel their reputation. At one point they took a job from a very powerful (We're talking mythic here) mage. While the details of the job are a bit hazy, it was something even they wouldn't do and they left the job unfinished. This ruined the Mage's plan and in vengeance he cursed each member of the tribe to be born with an inner demon that would haunt their dreams in childhood and then manifest upon maturity. This inner demon would try to consume the human side of the tribe member and if it succeeded turn them into a monster. Much like they often claimed to be in the past. When the demon starts manifest the tribe member is chained up and others keep vigil over him/her. The tribe member then undergoes an inner battle with their demon. If they succeed in are in control and can tap their demon for power although they must keep an inner vigilance to maintain themselves. If they fail and are consumed by their demon the other tribe members put him/her down for their sake as well as the tribes.

Those that survived the curse initially and retained their mind and sanity fled to their old holdings adopting a largely isolationist stance on interaction with others. They did decide though to patrol their territory keeping nearby areas safe for others while keeping them out of the more dangerous parts of the mountains. To hide themselves and perhaps atone for their past deeds.

-The second one. Not as detailed as the first but here it is.

In minkai there is a clan, a blessed clan. The founder of this clan was a moral and upright man who adventured and sought to help others. While not a saint he did strive to serve. At one point he came upon a celestial spirit of light. It was injured from enemies that hid in shadow and couldn't hold its form together. After witnessing the founder commit a selfless act it asked him for help. The only way for the spirit to heal and hide was to posses or at least partially posses the founder. He agreed and they joined. After that they accomplished a great many things and they realized that they were more effective together and so at a convergences of the heavens and the stars they made their joining permanent. Since then every member of the clan has been possessed by the Light Spirit. Not A light spirit, but the same light spirit. When a member of the clan manifests their connection to to the Light Spirit it is a time of celebration. Much like a coming of age celebration although it happens at different ages depending on the individual and when they channel the power of the Light Spirit their eyes glow and they speak with the voices of the clan starting with those most closely related to the individual and going out from there.

[Lunchbox3000]

While I have no ideas on my mind as of yet, I just wanted to saythose were very cool and well thought out ideas.

[The NPC]

Lunchbox3000 wrote:

While I have no ideas on my mind as of yet, I just wanted to saythose were very cool and well thought out ideas.

Thank You :)

[Hordshyrd]

Those are some good ideas. I like also that they added in the description of the bloodrager that their abilities could be tied to some significant event in their personal or ancestral history, rather than straight bloodline mixing.

A few ideas of such that I've had.
One of your ancestors slew a great dragon (or whatever) and (were bathed in it's blood, ate it's heart, ever after wore a suit of armor crafted from it, etc...) as an attempt to get some great power which may or may not have been advantageous to them but has had the side effect of leaving some magic spark in their family line, which you have learned to tap into when angry.

Alternatively maybe something like as a child you were possessed and while the mind of what possessed you was cast out some of it's power remains and rises to the surface in times of great stress.

A few other ideas bounce around but, yeah, something like that.

[AM BLOODRAGER]

I DOUBT, THEREFORE I THINK, THEREFORE I AM BLOODRAGER.

[Lunchbox3000]

As I like the fey bloodline, I will try one out.

In the towns original formation they had encroached on Fey lands. To prevent the towns utter destruction by the fey the town officials signed a contract. The contract stated that one in ten children born would be left in a grove in the woods never to be seen again. Unbeknownst to the town folk, the fey take these children and put them through vigorous trials which often result in death. The survivors then are offered a sampling of fey power. If they take the offer they are given the power and honor bound to the fey whom bestowed it to them. If they don't they are immediately executed.

Well after typing it, it seems a bit dark but that's fey.

[The NPC]

Lunchbox3000 wrote:

As I like the fey bloodline, I will try one out.

In the towns original formation they had encroached on Fey lands. To prevent the towns utter destruction by the fey the town officials signed a contract. The contract stated that one in ten children born would be left in a grove in the woods never to be seen again. Unbeknownst to the town folk, the fey take these children and put them through vigorous trials which often result in death. The survivors then are offered a sampling of fey power. If they take the offer they are given the power and honor bound to the fey whom bestowed it to them. If they don't they are immediately executed.

Well after typing it, it seems a bit dark but that's fey.

I like it :)

[Luthorne]

Aberrant

It truly was a spectacular sight, burning through the night sky in a strange rainbow haze...until it exploded for reasons most land-dwellers would never know. How could they have seen the strange beast with its tentacles wrapped around itself, malevolent eyes gleaming, as a dozen flumph sages put their power behind a star monarch, itself a starsoul sorcerer, to shatter the eldritch barrier protecting it from friction, causing it to disintegrate in the atmosphere. The end of a threat to a world that most would never know ... but to some ... it was merely the beginning.

Was it shards of the horror's psyche, shattered and flung outward? The ashes of the creature's remains? It is hard to say, but some of those watching the skies that night found themselves changed...their dreams filled with the deep void of space and a sense of [PURPOSE] that was unfulfilled ... denied ... [THWARTED] ...!!! They began to feel a strange conviction emanating from some twisted part of them, that this flesh and bone, blood throbbing through their bodies ... that it was repulsive, an abomination, wrong somehow...and when that conviction filled them, they found themselves strangely empowered, stronger, tougher, only for the moment to end and they would find themselves strangely exhausted.

Some managed to repress it, turning their back on the [OTHER], ignoring the strange trembling or odd moments of self-loathing that would fill them. But others did not. Some viewed as power, others simply could not rest in a society surrounded by entities they began to loathe, while still others only sought answers to try and achieve some kind of peace. These people found that as they explored the depths of their power, that a strange yellow miasma would surround them, that they could clutch a weapon and have it twist and warp into something that matched alien sensibilities...and as they progressed further, the weapon would seem to take on a life of its own at times, darting out to stab, slash, or mangle their foes. Whether they could control this power or be consumed by it as their bodies became increasingly more alien...who could say?

Abyssal

The monster known as Two-World-Walker was a half-fiend summoner on the verge of becoming something more, rumored to exist simultaneously both on the Abyssal Plane and the Material Plane, his eidolon strangely resembling a version of himself with all traces of his humanity expunged. A group of adventurers ended his threat, killing him and his eidolon deep within Abyssal jungles and somehow a second time in the jungles of the Material Plane. Whatever the truth of his unique existence, unbeknownst to the heroes who ended him, his death left a tiny portal between the planes, no bigger than a pinprick. No normal demon could ever hope to pass through such a tiny entrance, but the shadowy demons known as invidiaks are not confined to the physical.

Mere decades after the death of Two-World-Walker, his unwitting legacy began to seep into the world, possessing and taking over a nearby village one person at a time. Animals were far from immune to possession, sent out as scouts as they plotted to expand their influence, but these drew the attention of another mighty hero...a Saranrae-worshiping sun druid, who directed the forces of nature against them, driving them from their hosts with potent sun magic and finishing them off with the aid of summoned allies. The portal was located and sealed off within the confines of a tree that glimmered with celestial power, preventing future incursions for as long as it should live.

However, those who had spent months with their bodies the puppets of malevolent forces until those forces had been forcibly purged from them by blinding sunlight had not all recovered from the trauma. Creatures of the abyss had dwelt within them, and for some, that taint remained, dormant most of the time, yet they would find themselves suddenly filled with an insane, unreasonable envy without warning at even the slightest things, mahogany skin becoming black as a starless night, their fingers twisting into black claws as their eyes burned with a furious red glow. Some chose to leave, seeking either a cure or simply to remain away from their own people, fearful that they might do something terrible. Others chose to stay, hone their powers, and use them in service to the tribe. And still others felt the dark places on their soul growing...and enjoyed it, seeking whatever they could grasp with this power as avarice devoured them.

[Luthorne]

Arcane

Strophalos is a mageocracy built on wizardry and sorcery. Magic schools tutor those with sufficient intellect in magical techniques, turning out wizards, but the coursework is often brutal, and those without the support of family or other patrons often find it difficult to graduate, either dropping out or being funneled into the equivalent of vocational technical schools to become magi, while the abundance of wizards in the upper class turns out many sorcerers with the arcane bloodline. Standardized testing in government requires proof that casters can cast spells of a given level before being allowed to move up to higher positions, and many of only above average intellect find themselves trapped by a glass ceiling, incapable of comprehending the intricacies of higher level spells. Those without magic are not even considered citizens, possessing no rights, only the 'privilege' of assisting their betters.

Understandably, resentment burns in many, but the law is enforced by magi, their wizard superiors, and - if the need is considered great enough - expensive but deadly golems. With the aid of divination magic, many revolutionaries have been tracked down and disposed of, leaving only those who are both careful and knowledgeable about the limitations of what magic can do. One of the most deadly terrorist factions is known for murdering bureaucratic mages, preferring sorcerers, and leaving their bloodless corpses on display, and the corpses have few answers for those wizards who question it.

What none have yet to ask is what the faction does with that blood...for the truth is that the blood and the magic it contains is used to create a brew a single member bathes in as they perform a ritual that allows the magic to soak into his very bones as they trace a bloody eye upon the forehead of the newly anointed chosen one, mind-altering incense burning in braziers. By murmuring the mantra of their faction, the eye etches itself anew on their forehead, granting them an unnatural insight into magic...not capable of perceiving it, but heightening their ability to lash out at those performing it.

The faction is still small, only expanding cautiously, but as more are anointed and their power grows, allowing them the use of a smattering of magic and some primitive (yet effective) shaping of arcane energy, they are slowly growing bolder in their choice of targets, though still carefully planning their ambushes with the utmost care. Whether they will accomplish anything but a handful of ritual murders before being crushed beneath the arcane might of the monolithic government of Strophalos...who can say?

Celestial

Within Varisia, empyreal lords receive far more attention than in other nations, and shrines dedicated to them can be found in the most unlikely places. It is rumored that some of these shrines are special, particularly those dedicated to those empyreal lords with a martial bent, such as Cernnunos, Falayna, and Ragathiel. Infused with celestial power, the land these shrines dwell on often possesses a strange vitality, a large number of fruit-bearing plants and trees thriving with healthy fruit, inhabited by strangely fearless wildlife. The growth itself stops closer to the shrine, as if out of reference, leaving a sudden clearing that is strangely soothing to the soul.

The passivity of these shrines, however, is primarily an illusion. In reality, they lie in wait for a vessel. Just what makes one person an appropriate vessel for this power and not others remains unknown - most vessels are of good alignment, but not all, and they seem to come from all walks of life...soldiers, vagabonds, hermits, merchants, even wandering madmen. Those who would prove to be vessels have entered that clearing for countless reasons - seeking shelter from a storm, hiding from pursuit, simply exploring, following a fat-looking rabbit - but in the end, one common point remains. By accident or design, they came into contact with the shrine, and that celestial power leaped from its receptacle into its chosen vessel.

It is difficult to describe what it feels like to have the raw essence of Good flood your very being. By nature, those who dwell on the material plane wander in a confused tangle of Chaos, Evil, Good, and Law, even for those most desperately seeking to cling to their ideals of what is true and right. For most, they are simply vague, poorly-defined abstractions, formed by culture and convenience, and they are rarely prepared for Good unadulterated by the reality they know. Some have compared it to being temporarily uplifted, a transcendent spiritual experience, others to being overtaken by a wave of lava that you somehow survive, others to drowning in a sea of light, others to having an eye you never knew you had being dazzled by a painfully beautiful light.

Regardless of how their minds make sense of the experience, it is intense. Many lose consciousness, while some merely stagger, dazed. As they return to their senses, some changed, others much as they once were, they know that it has not truly ended...though much less intense, that celestial energy simmers beneath their skin, and when they see a chance to do good, it billows out of them in a radiant, glorious haze, their muscles tensing as something within them seems to call out for action. But they are not slaves to that power, and can learn to beat it back and ignore it, no matter how insistently it thrums...

[The NPC]

Luthorne: I particularly like the the Celestial and Aberrant ones.

[Luthorne]

Destined

Destiny is a concept difficult for most mortals to grasp, perhaps because they see it as something external, rather than a creation that spans the planes that they aid in the forging of with their own choices. Small and grand decisions alike influence the fabric of fate, building upon each other, ranging from the might of dragons, giants, and even gods, to the humble power of simple commoners on countless worlds. Thus do countless creatures striving for goals ranging from humble to megalomaniac blindly -for the most part - steer civilizations and entire worlds.

Yet, not all are entirely blind to destiny's machinations. As it is spun, destiny moves, tugs, and pulls, like an almost invisible tide made of countless connections that can only be followed so far. Those who are beyond mortality can often see more of it, yet there are a few mortals who can sense more than most. Usually born and raised in times of great change and turmoil, when destiny is not being gently, invisibly woven, but instead crashes down upon civilizations, rises meteorically with rising stars, swirls in maelstroms of chaotic war...even in these scenarios, most remain unaware, but a rare few begin to become aware of some of its workings.

Given the tumultuous times in which they arise, few of these survive long enough to begin to interpret the sensations they begin to experience, the fledgling intuition of things being connected beyond what logic can perceive...but once they do learn to, they may be quite more likely to survive as they learn to influence some of the smaller eddies of fortune. Their weapons strike a bit more truly than mere skill can account for as they focus their willpower, moving beyond their limits for a brief moment before the effort takes its toll on them. Even with this seemingly divine power, though, few survive long enough to come into their true power...but those who do almost inevitably ride the waves of destiny to do great things...for better or worst.

Draconic

Kuen-lun Mountain is a legendary location, believed by many to only be a myth. Yet it does exist, at least at times, for those of good heart and great need. Those who stumble upon the mountain are questioned by a pair dosojin kami who question them extensively about their need; those whose answers fail to satisfy the spirits find themselves stepping onto a completely different path, though often one that leads to safety or assistance. Those who both demonstrate respect, wisdom, and sufficient need are allowed to pass on, told that they may find what they seek above.

Yet this is only the beginning of their journey, as they must demonstrate their fitness and wisdom by overcoming many obstacles, such as wrestling a foo lion, debating morality with a kuwa oni trapped beneath a peach tree (whose branches create the effect of a magic circle against evil) that tries to trick them into releasing it, and much more, often with the aid of various animals (possessing the fey animal template) and minor kami who will aid those who show proper respect for tradition and nature. At the peak of the mountain dwells a palace inhabited by the human form of a tienlung (a great wyrm imperial sky dragon) who rules the mountain as an empress.

Those who have won the favor of the heavenly ruler of the mountain are granted a boon...adoption into her royal family, sealed with a magical wine, infused with their power of her own draconic blood. Drinking the finely spiced wine grants them a fraction of her draconic power (treat as a bronze dragon in regards to dragon type), as well as bestowing upon them the knowledge of how to use many tools of war. They are then granted a magnificent meal, a princely chamber to rest in, and then the next day are given the option to either remain in the palace to learn to use the power they have been granted, or to leave with the power they have won, learning to develop it themselves.

Many choose to remain in the palace for many years to train, for despite the potent royal power that burns within them, their human bodies cannot channel its full potential for a long time. Those who remain do not age while on Kuen-lun Mountain, often returning only a short time after they set foot on the mountain despite the years that have passed. Others, however, do not have the patience to wait, leaving their adopted mother behind as the sons of dragons go forth into the world to seek their destinies, perhaps never to set foot on the mountain again.

[Luthorne]

Elemental

The janni Jibril ibn Karim is more benevolently-minded than most of his primarily neutral race, a staunch practitioner of the disciplines of furusiyya and a devout follower of Saranrae. His heroic exploits and skill in horsemanship, lance, sword, and unarmed combat have won him many admirers over the course of his exploits, and as of the past few centuries he has chosen to more or less settle down and instruct new generations in both martial skills and moral teachings to the best of his ability, though he is still prone to occasionally leaping onto his loyal steed and friend, a dragon horse by the name of Abd-al-Rashid, and riding off to vanquish evil.

Given his innate affinity with the four elements, the enlightened warrior (having taken class levels as a sohei monk and possessing the elemental fist feat) knows much about the elemental planes, and has devised a method to allow certain mortals to harness the strength of a given element. Students whom he feels possess a personality suited to command one of the four elements, the strength to handle the training, and the character to use it for good purposes, he offers to give special training...and warns them that they may not survive.

Those who accept the offer are taken away to undergo intensive training on the elemental plane he believes they demonstrate an affinity for. Lectures on the nature of the element, meditation as they seek to sense the element, and desperately trying to survive in the often dangerous environment of another plane...often with the aid of a few magic items granted them by their master. Those who succeed learn to let the energy of the plane infuse their being, often altering their bodies in minor way (such as a small change in eye, hair, or skin color), and let it sustain and empower their bodies, bursting forth as they strike with their weapons. Not all survive the training, much to Jibril's sorrow...but more do than do not, thanks to his careful scrutiny and selection of his students, going forth into the world as elemental warriors.

Fey

The fair folk come in all shapes and sizes, ranging from refined self-proclaimed patrons of the arts, fiendish murderers, bizarre pranksters, incarnations of beauty, shadowy assassins, tiny fighters overflowing with warrior spirit, and shameless seducers. But whether their interactions with mortals are well-meaning, sadistic, or uncaring, the fact that they are fey often leads to dissonance in their relations with mortals, and few of these relations have a happy ending...at least for the mortal, though on occasion the knife of tragedy cuts both participants equally.

One of the more disturbing ways such an occasion may rise happens when a fey drives a mortal to utter madness. Sometimes this occurs thanks to a near-constant parade of pranks the fey views as harmless, but slowly drives the mortal ever closer to the edge, but more often by malevolent fey that seek to terrorize or callously use their mortal toy with so many charm and compulsion spells that their minds twist and warp. Regardless, the human snaps, their jumbled mental state bent only on destroying the fey responsible. Of course, most humans, even with the fey not expecting such a vicious response, stand little chance of damaging a fey, but their maddened frenzy is sometimes enough to damage or even kill the fey, whether with an actual weapon, an improvised implement of destruction, or even their bare hands and teeth, managing somehow to choke, mangle, or crush the shocked fey.

In the process, the blood of a creature of the First World is usually shed, and some are even maddened enough to mutilate or devour the corpse the creature, causing some of the primal energy the creature possessed to be in some way absorbed into their being. Afterwards, most become feral creatures, wandering into the woods where they are most often killed or die thanks to their madness...but not all. Some stay in the woods and slowly regain at least some of their sanity on their own, though rarely all of it, learning to survive off the land despite their wounded minds. Others are found by someone who works to cure their madness, whether magically or via more mundane methods. Other mortals are the most likely candidates, but sometimes benevolent fey who recognize the work of their fellow fair folk seek to rectify the damage done...or less kindly ones who see in this husk of madness with a glimmer of stolen faerie the shape of a future tool.

[lucky7]

Current Bloodrager was working with a man who wielded a sword which granted him special powers. When that man died, it was passed on to him. Since he was already a Barbarian, he simply had something odd happen to him whilst raging.

[Mark D Griffin]

My tiefling abyssal bloodrager was kidnapped by a demon worshiping cult as a child. They began a ritual to try and transform him into a full demon. The ritual was interrupted by a Paladin and Cleric of Sarenrae, and the cleric was kill when she pulled my body out of a pillar of abyssal flames. The paladin then raised me as his own son, but I was changed somehow. The ritual was incomplete, but some abyssal taint entered my body, and when I get angry I turn into a demonic beast.

Could work with any race of course, but it seemed especially appropriate for a tiefling.