Custom Origin Human Sorlock (Divine Soul Sorcerer / Genie Patron Warlock)
(player: Tim Brahm)
The Rothbards have a proud history as a minor noble family of humans in Seaside in the south of Cyre (emphasis on proud, and minor). Thirty years ago, Argos Rothbard fell in love with the beautiful (though very superstitious and possibly insane) Eudora.
When they conceived a child, Eudora became obsessed with an ancient, and mostly disregarded prophecy, utterly convinced that it was about her child helping Cyre end the great war. In order for this to be true, she had to give birth to her son in the manifest zone inside the great volcano, the Fist of Onatar. Argos thought this was all absurd, and flatly refused to take her to the Fist.
When the time was imminent, Eudora snuck out and took an airship to the Fist by herself. There, in the manifest zone to the plane of fire Fernia, she gave birth to her son, Asher. Whenever she told the story, Eudora swore that Asher gave a faint golden glow when he entered the world, as he, like so many others, passed from one plane of existence to another. Everyone always laughed at her, and insisted that he seemed to glow because she was inside an active volcano, and because she was delirious.
What she never shared with anyone is that after giving birth she was close to death. She cried out hopelessly for help, and then saw a serpentine figure come toward her. When Nikola the couatl was next to her, he transformed into a humanoid shape and spoke to her, “You shouldn’t be here human.” Eudora begged him, “Please help me.” He responded, “What would you wish of me?” She cried, “Please, my child, save my child.” The couatl had pity on her. He knew that she meant to save his life, but as a celestial being he saw the value of a soul, and replied, “I will grant your wish. You have permanently altered his life by bringing him here. He is blessed, or cursed, or both. The salvation of a divine soul will be difficult indeed, but if he is to have any chance, he will need the love of his mother.” He then reached out his hand and healed Eudora.
Asher was indeed blessed. He didn’t display any overt magic early in his life, but from a young age it was noticeable that things just, went well for him. If he was bullied, a teacher would just happen to enter the room at the right time. Once when he swam too far in the ocean and might have drowned, he was carried back to the shore by sea creatures. Some children thought he cheated at games of chance. Others made a point of inviting him to come with them when they went fishing. His father Argos thought all the fuss was just “more superstitious nonsense,” but he tolerated it. He also tolerated occasional visits from Eudora’s cousin Nikola, who his wife had never mentioned before they were married, and who seemed to take a special interest in his son.
Asher was a happy child. He was blessed, in magical and non-magical ways. The world smiled upon him, and he smiled back. He didn’t take much to religion. He had too many experiences of Priests and Clerics telling him there was something wrong with him, that he was unnatural. When he hit puberty, he experienced more change than an average boy. Not long after Asher’s magic started to develop, “Uncle” Nikola came to visit, and he revealed to the boy that he wasn’t his uncle, and that he wasn’t human. Nikola taught Asher how to use magic, and more importantly, how magic should be used. He instilled in Asher that magic is a powerful tool that can be used to bless others greatly, but that it could also be used to utterly destroy.
After a little training, Asher found he could extend some of his own good fortune to those around him, and took great pleasure in helping people. He never admitted it to his mentor, but he secretly began to crave more. He once asked the couatl to take him to the place of his birth, but Nikola refused.
When he turned eighteen, he joined in the war effort. Nikola had never taught him any offensive magic, so he learned to shoot a light crossbow and joined Cyre’s navy. Two years later, after a victory in Stormwreck Bay, he and his comrades were ordered to leave their ships and pursue the retreating dwarves…right past the Fist of Onatar. Asher couldn’t help himself, he needed to see it. As he drew near to the manifest zone, he saw a large figure.
A deep, friendly voice bellowed, “Greetings mortal. You seem to have lost your way. Unless…no you are connected with this place, with the power of this place. I dare say, you aren’t lost at all, are you?”
Asher relaxed and replied, “I was born here. I just, I wanted to see this place.”
The figure’s eyes narrowed. “But that isn’t all you want, is it? I sense…yearning…dissatisfaction…fearlessness. I should introduce myself. I am Qusay, the genie.”
Asher’s jaw dropped. “I’m Asher. I’ve never met a genie before. How did you come to be here?”
Qusay grinned, “You aren’t the only one drawn to power. I’ve taken a liking to you Asher. I can help you get what you want. Why are you really here?”
Asher’s cheeks flushed a little. “I guess you’re right. I want power. I feel like I can do more, but my mentor Nikola won’t teach me to fight, only to defend myself and help others.”
Qusay replied, “Well that seems foolish. You can’t just defend yourself forever. Sometimes you need to harm bad people to help good people, don’t you think?” Asher nodded. The genie continued, “I can grant one mortal wish a day, but it doesn’t come free. I will give you a part of my power. You will be stronger than you could have dreamed. Let’s just say, I am much more powerful than a mere couatl. In return, I’ll occasionally ask you to use your new powers to do a few errands for me.”
Asher’s heart raced with excitement, but he hesitated. Qusay pressed, “Think of all the people you could help once you have the power to help them.” A huge hand reached out. “Take my hand, and make your wish.”
The human hand disappeared into the great hand of the genie, and he whispered, “I wish for power.” Qusay responded simply, matter-of-factly, “Wish granted.”
After this encounter, little is known of Asher’s journey until six years later when the war ended. He obtained a reprieve from military service and wandered the continent. Some say he secretly helped people. Others say he was assisting in Cyre’s war effort as an infiltrator. Many suspect he spent most of his time working for his new master.
After the mourning and the end of the war, most Cyrans went to refugee camps. Asher stayed on the move, eventually settling in with a small group of mercenaries. As far as anyone knows, he is the only surviving Rothbard. As is common for some Cyran survivors, Asher holds to the tradition of Mourning Wear, clothes cut in the Cyran style, but only in black.