Grand Magister or Pirate King?
NPCs are ambassadors of character-driven plot. That’s why most characters in the setting guide include a dilemma inspired by their background. Today we meet Garron Firion, Grand Magister of a major port city, who’s influenced by his history with the sea.
Garron Firion – Grand Magister, Guild of Sages
Human Wizard ♦ Neutral Good ♦ Theme: Sea
Quote from Garron: “They’re welcome to try“
Focused ● Practical ● Strong-Willed ● Powerful ● Politically Savvy ● Gods-Touched
Physical Description
Strangers stop in their tracks when Garron walks by. Some clasp the hilt of their weapon or take a step back. Perhaps it’s the violent scars on his skull, the missing arm, the broad shoulders that top off a tall and sturdy frame.
The more observant notice the fine but frayed clothes, the soft leather boots marred by scuff marks, the neatly trimmed but tangled beard.What happened to this man, and will this man happen to me? is what the strangers think as their minds turn to fight or flight.
And yet, the prestigious seal of the Grand Magister hangs about his neck, and he strides with the vigorous intent of one who belongs in a civilised city. The strangers shrug and resume their journey, keen to put distance between them.
Personality
Focused. Practical. Strong willed.
There’s a story told to new Guild members. If they’re wise they’ll take heed:
In his early years, when travelling to Duin Imlad, he was set upon by brigands. A thug pinned Garron against a tree with a spear and promised to skewer him unless he begged for mercy. Garron called forth his green appendages and then impaled himself for six inches onto the spear. With his tentacles now within reach, he strangled the bandit and the others fled.
After this event, Garron received his first promotion up the ranks of the Guild. The city and the Guild have flourished under Garron’s protection.
To this day, those who know him still find the sight of the tentacles unnerving, which Garron uses to his advantage.
Background
His first assignment as a journeyman Sage was with a merchant ship. His spells swelled the sails and disbanded gathering clouds.
A week into the passage, when wisps of cloud grazed by a sickly moon, the ship was swarmed by mozgo, green-glowing squid said to be sailors doomed by Deopnes (god of the deep). The crew rallied too late and were voraciously consumed, the marrow sucked from their bones.
Garron ripped off the one latched to his skull and made a break for it in a life-boat with two of the crew, but lost his arm to a squid that launched itself from the water once they began to row.
Garron’s days as a Sage were numbered, as two arms are generally needed for spellcasting. Cruelly, his arm still felt real and present. He could feel himself flexing his fingers. It would be better if he could feel nothing that reminded him of his loss. Then and there he vowed that if he made it to shore, he would never cross the sea again.
In the delirious days they were adrift, he hallucinated green tentacles bursting forth at the nub of his lost arm, but then the shrieks of his fellow survivors evidenced it was real. A practical man, Garron had no need for questions, just solutions, so he soon learned to manifest the tentacles at will, and then to manipulate them to cast spells. Calling on his magic, the survivors were once again hydrated and the waves took them home.
Upon returning to shore, the Guild of Sages took a keen interest in their young Garron. They judged the tentacles to be a favour from Deopnes, god of the deep. Garron discovered he was now weaker in some kinds of magic and stronger in others. Was this a blessing? Or a curse?
Oddly, by the end of each day, no matter how often he preened or donned new clothes, his garbs and hair would fray, as if shredded by the maw of a mozgo. One Sage joked he resembled a pirate king. The other scholars stroked their beards and looked thoughtful. Many a true word spoken in jest, one remarked.
As befitting for a pirate king, he was trained in battle magic, the art of the sword and the spell. And with the consensus he was favoured by Deopnes, was it any wonder he became the grand magister of the port city?
Now, once a year, on the day before the city’s dedication to Deopnes, Garron rows out to sea, alone, to give Deopnes a chance to change its mind. A mozgo slides over the side of the boat and accompanies him for the journey. But never will he cross the sea otherwise.
Dilemma
A man wearing the badge of the Guild of Sages has been mauled to death on Roussillon Island. His remains were dumped on the landing platform of the Sanctum of Solitude situated high in the island’s mountains. Ferro, the island’s farrier, is worried that the wild hippogryphs will be blamed, but he’s sure they didn’t do this.
Garron has kept the matter a secret for now. What’s curious is that no one is missing from the Guild. Can the players discretely investigate? Due to his vow not to cross the sea (by any means) he cannot go himself.