Monday, March 14, 2016

Skeggbitr Víðirsen, Besmaran Priest - Pathfinder

With this blog, I hope to offer some example characters I have made at times. For the last several years, I have been playing quite a bit of Pathfinder Roleplaying Game. The following character was made to play in the Skull & Shackles Adventure Path and used the Background Generator found in Ultimate Campaign (and replicated in the official Pathfinder Reference Document and D20 PFSRD).

When I make a character I typically start with a pretty rough idea of the character, establishing the race and class I am interested in playing. From there, I will roll up a random background and see if there are any events in it that suggest certain stats or skills and make note of those. When I write up my background story, I try to integrate as much of the generated information as possible. If I get stuck on any items, I will make a note of them and come back and see if those missed pieces work in naturally once the story is generated.

This particular character is a little out of the box, as I had recently gotten the book, Bastards of Golarion and wanted to use some of the information there to create a dwarven character that had a bit of the sea in him. In order to achieve this, I used the rules presented for Undine and swapped out a couple of traits that gave him a more dwarven feel. Another thing to note is that when working with dwarves, I tend to borrow heavily for Norse names or Norse words and weave bits of real mythologies into the stories as well. Some folks might notice a similarity between Skegg's father's name and Manannán mac Lir, which is intentional. 


This character background is the type I mention in a previous post. If your players are struggling with generating a background story for their character, I generally recommend looking to heroic myths and legends from various world cultures for inspiration. They can be wonderful source material and no one is going to mind borrowing heavily from them. 
After arranging for his parents to be well cared for, Skegg arranged travel to The Shackles, where his heart called to him. He was certain that Besmara would provide the next clue to finding his father. He came to a tavern in port in search of his fate. He’s not sure how many drinks he had, but they quickly went to his head and he passed out on the table before he found his destiny—unless it lay in the bottom of a bottle. Then again, maybe he found his destiny after all...


Skeggbitr Víðirsen

Shortly after his mother, Helga Hjordisdóttir, was betrothed to Rénar Særúlfsen, she was visited by Mannan Víðirgott, a noble marid, who seduced the dwarven woman. When she grew heavy with child, months before taking her wedding vows to Rénar, the settlement was aghast and her betrothed accused her of infidelity. According to laws and traditions, she was to take the trial of water and was bound in metal shackles and cast into the sea. Mannann would not let the sea claim her, so he rusted away her bindings and washed her ashore along with many treasures from the deep. Those assembled blamed shoddy craftmenship and again bound her, this time with sturdier chains and again cast her into the sea. As before, Mannann corroded away her bindings and cast her gently on the beach, again with various treasures. Outraged, Rénar bound her in heavy rope and tied many stones to her and personally cast Helga into the sea. However, this time Mannann appeared from the waves with Helga in his arms.

“Twice have I tried to pay for the maiden hood I took and return this woman, unharmed. I know well your laws, and should one pass a trial alive, they are unguilty of their crime and so it is with this woman. But you, Rénar, son of Særúlf, son of Krellrað, son of Vetrsvinnr Banahǫgg, first of your line to come to this land with my help and guidance, put your pride above the laws of your people. From this day forward, you will find the sea no friend of yours. No fish will come to your net, no current will bear your weight, no wind will fill your sail. Any boat that carries you will be like doomed, as will any man or woman who harbors you.  You will be Vetnóvnir and yours will be a hard life.

“To the rest of you, your nets will remain barren for a year and a day. Fogs will swallow your boats and lead them astray and no ship, from near or far, shall find your port. You are thusly cursed for allowing your laws to be bent.

“As for the woman, her way will be made clear, and, as you wished, the waves will carry her far from you. She will bear forth a son and she will know love and happiness all the days of her life.”

With that, he crashed, like a mighty wave, into the ocean, washing Helga and the treasures away. The ships that were moored at the harbor were dashed upon the shore. By Mannann’s will, Helga was carried safely to the shores of Cassomir – Mannann’s treasures were tucked away within her clothes, his gift to her. A young brewer, also recently arrived in Cassomir, saw her body wash upon the shores and went down to see if she was well. Enkí Beorrbar fell in love the moment he saw her upon the beach and would eventually take her as his wife.

Four months after being washed ashore, Helga gave birth to Mannann’s son, giving him the name Vilífjor. The nursemaid was terrified of the child – his blueish-green coloring was an ill omen and the plumb body resembled that of a drowned corpse. His ears looked like fins and he had webbing between his fingers and toes. The babe was still and the nurse feared he was dead. However, he gasped for air and let out a terrible cry and the nurse nearly dropped the child.

Helga never shared with Vilífjor who his father was or that her people had attempted to kill her, preferring to tell him that her ship had sunk after colliding with a reef. When she washed ashore, she was full with child.

The treasures Mannann provided took care of the three of them for quite some time, during which time Enkí opened a small brewery, making his family ales and spirits. Unfortunately, he took to gambling and eventually, in order to clear his debts, he was forced to give over the secrets of his brew. He and Helga had the first of their children, a son named Atferðþol. Vilífjor was on the cusp of manhood and felt obligated to help take care of his younger brother. The sea often called to him, and Vilífjor found that his natural talents made him useful on the docks of Cassomir. It wasn’t long until he found himself hired as a seaman on the Merchant Vessel The Lady Amstone. He kept enough to make a meager living for himself and gave the rest to Enkí and his mother.

This was the first of many ships Vilífjor worked on. But, where ever the sea took him during the nearly twenty years, he would always come back to Cassomir. While he was at sea, his sister Sjórsilfra, was born.  While on the Elven ship, Loraquistriel¸ his last post, he was unable to keep his promise to his family. The ship was attacked by orcen brigands. It was not the first attack he had been part of, but it was also his introduction to personal firearms. He took a fatal shot to his chest and was tossed overboard with the rest of his crew.

Mannann felt his son call out with the last bit of energy he had, but it was too late. Vilífjor was dead, sinking to the bottom of the sea. While Mannann possessed a great deal of power, he could do nothing to restore his son to life. He appealed to the Gods, but only Besmara, the Pirate Queen, answered him. In return for Vilífjor’s life, Besmara demanded that Mannann bind himself to her, serving as her First Mate. She also insisted that the boy’s soul belonged to her. Mannann had lived the first part of his existence as a slave and cherished his freedom, but his only son meant more to him. He agreed.

A week later, Vilífjor washed on the shore of a small-uninhabited island. He woke to a small monkey knocking on his head, as if it were a coconut or gourd. Vilífjor snapped open his eyes and shot out his hand, meaning to grab the beast by the scruff of its neck. Instead, the monkey bit him and fled, laughing. Vilífjor pushed himself from the beach, seeing his flesh for the first time since his death. His skin had darkened, and looked like the sea itself, no longer did he look like a drowned corpse. He found a small inlet where he could gaze at his reflection. His copper hair was matted and tangled and looked like seaweed. Salt rimed the three short braids of his beard.

Again, he heard the laughing of the monkey. Vilífjor spun around and charged after the creature, travelling farther and farther into the wilds of the island until he finally came to a crudely constructed hut. In it, he found the recently dead remains of a human male. Among the corpse’s possessions were his journal, a book titled The Sea Queen’s Plunder which detailed the faith of Besmara, and a wooden holy symbol.  By the light of the fading sun, Vilífjor read the book. His soul was like the sea itself, and Besmara held a tidal pull on it. As night came, the monkey, who Vilífjor had taken to calling Erfiðr, a word meaning troublesome in his native tongue, tugged at his sleeves, urging the dwarf to leave the hut. Vilífjor gathered up the possessions and ran back to the beach. While he set about to make a fire, Erfiðr went and gathered food for the two of them.

Vilífjor slept, his belly filled, listening to the sounds of the waves. His mind was troubled and he dreamt of the depths, remembering what he could not remember – he was a dead man walking. Something in him grew sick and he woke to Erfiðr trying to pry open his eyelids. The dwarf snapped awake and was aware of a shuffling coming from the wilds. He had no weapon with which to defend himself and prayed Besmara might aid him with whatever it was that was coming.

The firelight caused the corpse’s skin to shine with a sickly orange light. It was the body of the old cleric. Like Vilífjor he too had animated and the dwarf knew well it was drawn by the life inside himself. With only Besmara’s holy symbol and his faith in the Pirate Queen, Vilífjor called on her holy might and was amazed when the undead creature jerked forward and halted, struck by some unseen force. But it continued forward. The dwarf tried again, but nothing happened.

“Surrender yourself to me, and only to me,” a woman’s voice whispered among the winds.

Vilífjor closed his eyes.

“Commit yourself to me, as your father did,” she called again.

The dwarf took a deep breath, dug deep within. “I commit myself to you, Besmara. My Queen!” He opened his eyes to find the undead priest nearly upon him. He brandished the wooden Jolly Roger at the walking Corpse and the creature froze in place. Vilífjor gestured with his left and a great wave rose up, controlled by his will. “You failed her, Tryphon. You are unworthy of her blessings.” He swung his arm, as if he meant to strike the creature with his fist. The wave followed through and slammed into the body of the dead priest, shattering the body and driving its animating force out of the body. The exertion was great and he collapsed to the ground.

In the morning, he found Erfiðr cleaning the skull of the dead priest. All the flesh and soft tissues were gone, leaving only bone behind. Using rocks, Vilífjor fashioned some rudimentary tools and weapons from Tryphon’s bones. Using a length of leather cord, he fashioned a mask from the skeletal face of the former priest. No bone went unused. From the knuckles and small bones, He also fashioned a set of casting dice. Back in Cassomir, he often bedded the elven seer, Seregruthion, who taught him how to cast dice and read their meanings.

The island served as Vilífjor’s home for several years. Armed with only a few bone tools and Erfiðr, he hunted the greater beasts of the island and subdued them. He fashioned an axe, similar to the one he carried with him as a seaman, from the shoulder of a great cat. He studied Besmara’s holy text and resolved that he was following in his father’s footsteps. He was certain that his father was foreign pirate and that it would be on the seas that he would finally learn his fate. He took the name Skeggbitr Ví∂irsen, meaning Bravebeard Son of the Sea, not realizing how close to his own father’s surname he had gotten.

Fashioning a simple boat from timbers he collected and a small sail that washed on the shore a few weeks ago, Skegg set sail from the island. Erfiðr was his second mate, and from their small vessel, they were able to loot a small pleasure boat. He used that to make his way back to Cossamir. Long had he been gone, and he wished to look in on his family. Enkí had again had a run in with owing money, but this time it was due to a slump in business. Skegg sold the small barge and had a courier bring the money to his family, fearful to return to them.

While in Cossamir, Skegg seduced the treasurer, a married man named Emin Sankar. Emin had been the man who had forced Enkí to sell his family brewing secrets. Aided by the seer— the only one Skegg revealed himself to— they arranged for Emin’s assistant find the treasurer with Seregruthion. The dwarf then blackmailed Emin, ensuring that his family would be well cared for in exchange for making those that caught Emin would never speak of it. Skegg arranged to have the assistant killed tragically.

This story was generated from the following set of random background events:

Homeland: Non-Dwarf Town or Village
Parents: Both parents are alive (Helga Hjordisdóttir and Enkí Beorrbar)
Siblings: Two Siblings
                        Sibling One: Younger Brother (Atferðþol Enkísen)
                        Sibling Two: Younger Sister (Sjórsilfra Enkídóttir)
Circumstance of Birth: Bastard Born (Father is a shahzada, or noble marid, named Mannann Ví∂irgott)
Parent’s Profession: Tradespeople  (Enkí is a brewer by trade and Helga is a clothier)
Major Event: Died
Training: Revelation
Influential Associates: The Seer (The elven seer Seregruthion, a former lover of Skegg)
Conflict: Seducer
            Subject: Civic or Military Official (Emin Sarkan, Cassomir Treasurer)
            Motivation: Revenge
            Resolution: Enjoyed it

Romantic Relationship: Several Inconsequential Relationships

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