Post by oath on Sept 25, 2014 0:08:27 GMT -8
Nobility Domain, follower of Domar, The Golden Flame.
Granted Powers: You are a great leader, an inspiration to all who follow the teachings of your faith.
Inspiring Word (Sp): As a standard action, you can speak an inspiring word to a creature within 30 feet. That creature receives a +2 morale bonus on attack rolls, skill checks, ability checks, and saving throws for a number of rounds equal to 1/2 your Inqusitor level (minimum 1). You can use this power a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
Leadership (Ex): At 8th level, you receive Leadership as a bonus feat. In addition, you gain a +2 bonus on your leadership score as long as you uphold the tenets of your deity (or divine concept if you do not venerate a deity).
Domain Spells: 1st—divine favor, 2nd—enthrall, 3rd—magic vestment, 4th—discern lies, 5th—greater command, 6th—geas/quest
Also known as "The Dog of Domar" in some circles.
Garrin is the son of Clairissa, a lady of the noble house of Ravenhorst. Being born into a noble family is generally a blessing, But in Garrin's case it was a birth surrounded by scandal. His mother was young, and unmarried. Garrin's father was a wandering Elvish minstrel, who gave a different name in every town. Young Clairissa was drawn in by the man's charms. His poetry, his song. Before she knew it, he had vanished, and Garrin was on his way into the world. Her father, Geron Ravenhorst was less than pleased with the situation, but still looked upon his daughter with love. Garrin was named after his grandfather, and Garon dotted on the young boy as any grandfather would. Garon's son, and Clairissa's older brother Vikel looked upon the situation with nothing but disgust. As far as he was concerned, his family had been tainted. The blood of an elf ran through his nephew's veins. Even worse, his father approved. Garrin was treated like one of the family, and afforded every opportunity to pursue things that interested him as a small child, as limited as they may be.
The good times did not last for long. When Garrin was seven years of age, still a mere child, his grandfather Garon suddenly passed away. With Vikel assuming control of the estate, Clairissa and Garrin were thrown out to fend for themselves. She was a traitor, and her child impure. Neither of them deserved to represent the Ravenhorst family name so they were on their own. (some more stuff needs to go here)
Several years later, Garrin began to train with a blade. Only twelve years of age, but he had to figure out some way to earn money. He didn't get much in the way of formal education, but he did have a sense of wit about him. By the age of 14, Garrin could handle himself in a fight against people larger than he. He didn't do anything fancy, but he had clearly paid attention to his training. As the years passed, he would go and help those who were in need of a sword. Otherwise he was a simple day laborer, doing what he could to ease the burden he had placed on his mother.
Around the time that Garrin turned twenty, his mother received an offer from Fredrich and Rachelle Eisenburg, some distant family members, that had heard after all of these years the actions that Vikel had taken and asked if she and her son would like to come to the capital, though their quarters may leave something to be desired, family was family, and they could not bear to see Clairissa left out in the cold all that time. They accepted the offer, and went off to Goldthrone. Once arriving at Goldthrone, Garrin became a city guard. It wasn't exactly a glorious position, but it was something that worked for him. He continued upon that mundane path for several years. Living without complaint, doing what he was asked to do and defending the town, the surrounding area, and its people during their times of need.
However, when he was twenty six, he found a curious little hole in the wall called the "Wolverine Den" run by a rather jovial halfling who always had a story to tell. How much of it was true, nobody could say but the man could spin a great tale. It was a place that Garrin would frequent, during his time off. The brew was cheap and the stories were always a great time. The halfling could prattle on for hours and hours, but never once did his stories become dull. He'd notice when patrons were down, and try to cheer them up. One such moment changed Garrin's life. He had been wondering if he should really be content with being a guard all of his life. Even if it was in name only, he was a member of a noble house. Perhaps he should try to do something greater. He confessed his worries to the barkeep, who listened intently. After hearing Garrin's worries, with a twinkle in his clouded eyes, he pointed skyward with a single finger, speaking in his normal, happy tone. "When you don't know what to do, just know that the Golden Gods can help you work everything out. It's what worked for me." The halfing then let out a hearty laugh, but what he said was true.
Garrin began to work closely with a shrine dedicated to Domar, The Golden Flame, during his free time and continued on his path of being a guard. More often than not, he found himself being put in charge of a small group of young blood, eager to do what they could to help their home. He would often be sent to the outlying areas to protect the smaller villages from things they could not handle themselves, whether it was the wildlife encroaching a bit too far into human lands, a band of brigands, or a roving group of goblins that had somehow evaded decimation, Garrin was there.
Unbeknownst to Garrin, he was being watched. The Inquisition had been keeping their eyes on him as he rose from your every day city guard to a man that could lead a group of bright eyed teens into a battle against whatever threat may come their way, and see everyone out to the other side. It seemed almost as if he had some sort of divine power, a potential that was untapped. Truth be told, the Inquisition had seen better days, they were quickly becoming short staffed and it was difficult to just recruit people off of the streets. It took a certain type of individual to do the type of work that the Inquisition was accustomed to.
Nn time, those in the inquisition came knocking on Garrin’s door. They knew what he had done, and believed he was capable of much more. He was approached by a few men and asked if he could assist them with a task in the service of Domar. It wasn’t more than a day’s ride from Goldthrone, so Garrin agreed. After they left town, it was revealed that an unsanctioned mage was practicing the dark arts. The orders were to force the mage to cease his magical activity by any means necessary. To Garrin, this was a chance to improve his life. To live up to his noble origins.
Garrin waited outside as the actual Inquisition members attempted to subdue the mage. The mage refused to comply and managed to slip by as the other members tried to encircle him. A little grease goes a long way. As the mage bolted out through the doorway, Garrin was ready. Without mercy, he ran the mage through. The mage collapsed as soon as the blow hit him and Garrin watched as he bled out.
When the group went back to Goldthrone, Garrin was taken to the Inquisitors HQ. He accepted their offer to join and became somewhat of a “yes man” he followed orders, even if he wasn’t sure that they were the right decisions. He never voiced his concerns, and did what needed to be done. It would let him go places in the world, make a name for himself.
Over the few years he has been involved with the Inquisition, Garrin has seen his fair share of horror. He had ended the lives of many, either by the sword or through imprisonment for crimes that they may or may not have committed. He followed orders without regard to his own feelings on the matter, earning himself the nickname “The Dog of Domar” to those that he was sent after. Within the Inquisition he is known as (Insert some title related to how he goes about doing his duty).
At the present time, his aspirations are to gain enough power through his exploits in the Inquisition to build his own landed branch of the Ravenhorst family, reclaiming the name that had been stolen from him as a child for nothing that was the fault of his own. (he is not actively seeking revenge upon Vikel, but would like to provide a nice foundation for any future children since it was taken from him, and he would like to give his future children a better chance.)
Granted Powers: You are a great leader, an inspiration to all who follow the teachings of your faith.
Inspiring Word (Sp): As a standard action, you can speak an inspiring word to a creature within 30 feet. That creature receives a +2 morale bonus on attack rolls, skill checks, ability checks, and saving throws for a number of rounds equal to 1/2 your Inqusitor level (minimum 1). You can use this power a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
Leadership (Ex): At 8th level, you receive Leadership as a bonus feat. In addition, you gain a +2 bonus on your leadership score as long as you uphold the tenets of your deity (or divine concept if you do not venerate a deity).
Domain Spells: 1st—divine favor, 2nd—enthrall, 3rd—magic vestment, 4th—discern lies, 5th—greater command, 6th—geas/quest
Also known as "The Dog of Domar" in some circles.
Garrin is the son of Clairissa, a lady of the noble house of Ravenhorst. Being born into a noble family is generally a blessing, But in Garrin's case it was a birth surrounded by scandal. His mother was young, and unmarried. Garrin's father was a wandering Elvish minstrel, who gave a different name in every town. Young Clairissa was drawn in by the man's charms. His poetry, his song. Before she knew it, he had vanished, and Garrin was on his way into the world. Her father, Geron Ravenhorst was less than pleased with the situation, but still looked upon his daughter with love. Garrin was named after his grandfather, and Garon dotted on the young boy as any grandfather would. Garon's son, and Clairissa's older brother Vikel looked upon the situation with nothing but disgust. As far as he was concerned, his family had been tainted. The blood of an elf ran through his nephew's veins. Even worse, his father approved. Garrin was treated like one of the family, and afforded every opportunity to pursue things that interested him as a small child, as limited as they may be.
The good times did not last for long. When Garrin was seven years of age, still a mere child, his grandfather Garon suddenly passed away. With Vikel assuming control of the estate, Clairissa and Garrin were thrown out to fend for themselves. She was a traitor, and her child impure. Neither of them deserved to represent the Ravenhorst family name so they were on their own. (some more stuff needs to go here)
Several years later, Garrin began to train with a blade. Only twelve years of age, but he had to figure out some way to earn money. He didn't get much in the way of formal education, but he did have a sense of wit about him. By the age of 14, Garrin could handle himself in a fight against people larger than he. He didn't do anything fancy, but he had clearly paid attention to his training. As the years passed, he would go and help those who were in need of a sword. Otherwise he was a simple day laborer, doing what he could to ease the burden he had placed on his mother.
Around the time that Garrin turned twenty, his mother received an offer from Fredrich and Rachelle Eisenburg, some distant family members, that had heard after all of these years the actions that Vikel had taken and asked if she and her son would like to come to the capital, though their quarters may leave something to be desired, family was family, and they could not bear to see Clairissa left out in the cold all that time. They accepted the offer, and went off to Goldthrone. Once arriving at Goldthrone, Garrin became a city guard. It wasn't exactly a glorious position, but it was something that worked for him. He continued upon that mundane path for several years. Living without complaint, doing what he was asked to do and defending the town, the surrounding area, and its people during their times of need.
However, when he was twenty six, he found a curious little hole in the wall called the "Wolverine Den" run by a rather jovial halfling who always had a story to tell. How much of it was true, nobody could say but the man could spin a great tale. It was a place that Garrin would frequent, during his time off. The brew was cheap and the stories were always a great time. The halfling could prattle on for hours and hours, but never once did his stories become dull. He'd notice when patrons were down, and try to cheer them up. One such moment changed Garrin's life. He had been wondering if he should really be content with being a guard all of his life. Even if it was in name only, he was a member of a noble house. Perhaps he should try to do something greater. He confessed his worries to the barkeep, who listened intently. After hearing Garrin's worries, with a twinkle in his clouded eyes, he pointed skyward with a single finger, speaking in his normal, happy tone. "When you don't know what to do, just know that the Golden Gods can help you work everything out. It's what worked for me." The halfing then let out a hearty laugh, but what he said was true.
Garrin began to work closely with a shrine dedicated to Domar, The Golden Flame, during his free time and continued on his path of being a guard. More often than not, he found himself being put in charge of a small group of young blood, eager to do what they could to help their home. He would often be sent to the outlying areas to protect the smaller villages from things they could not handle themselves, whether it was the wildlife encroaching a bit too far into human lands, a band of brigands, or a roving group of goblins that had somehow evaded decimation, Garrin was there.
Unbeknownst to Garrin, he was being watched. The Inquisition had been keeping their eyes on him as he rose from your every day city guard to a man that could lead a group of bright eyed teens into a battle against whatever threat may come their way, and see everyone out to the other side. It seemed almost as if he had some sort of divine power, a potential that was untapped. Truth be told, the Inquisition had seen better days, they were quickly becoming short staffed and it was difficult to just recruit people off of the streets. It took a certain type of individual to do the type of work that the Inquisition was accustomed to.
Nn time, those in the inquisition came knocking on Garrin’s door. They knew what he had done, and believed he was capable of much more. He was approached by a few men and asked if he could assist them with a task in the service of Domar. It wasn’t more than a day’s ride from Goldthrone, so Garrin agreed. After they left town, it was revealed that an unsanctioned mage was practicing the dark arts. The orders were to force the mage to cease his magical activity by any means necessary. To Garrin, this was a chance to improve his life. To live up to his noble origins.
Garrin waited outside as the actual Inquisition members attempted to subdue the mage. The mage refused to comply and managed to slip by as the other members tried to encircle him. A little grease goes a long way. As the mage bolted out through the doorway, Garrin was ready. Without mercy, he ran the mage through. The mage collapsed as soon as the blow hit him and Garrin watched as he bled out.
When the group went back to Goldthrone, Garrin was taken to the Inquisitors HQ. He accepted their offer to join and became somewhat of a “yes man” he followed orders, even if he wasn’t sure that they were the right decisions. He never voiced his concerns, and did what needed to be done. It would let him go places in the world, make a name for himself.
Over the few years he has been involved with the Inquisition, Garrin has seen his fair share of horror. He had ended the lives of many, either by the sword or through imprisonment for crimes that they may or may not have committed. He followed orders without regard to his own feelings on the matter, earning himself the nickname “The Dog of Domar” to those that he was sent after. Within the Inquisition he is known as (Insert some title related to how he goes about doing his duty).
At the present time, his aspirations are to gain enough power through his exploits in the Inquisition to build his own landed branch of the Ravenhorst family, reclaiming the name that had been stolen from him as a child for nothing that was the fault of his own. (he is not actively seeking revenge upon Vikel, but would like to provide a nice foundation for any future children since it was taken from him, and he would like to give his future children a better chance.)