Name: Roger the Goatherd
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Race: Human.
Description: Roger the Goatherd comes from far far away in the Mystic West. As such he is tall and gaunt, wrapped in goatskin and a deafening odour of goat. He has a cloak of many colours; many colours from the palette of goat. From afar one might think that it be but a cloak of many browns, but you would be a fool to think goats are but brown. He has the admirable beard of a true mountain man, and a lazy eye that is often mistaken for a mischievous twinkle. He likes to wear a traditional goatherd's hat and, unlike the modern fashion, he prefers to wear it crosswise, rather than from front to back. He is fond of the traditional ways. He carries a fairly standard issue goatherd's staff, and wields a terrifying roar of a voice, trained in years of shouting at goats from atop giant boulders or at the bottom of steep winding trails. They bend to his foghorned will.
Attributes: Physique/ 2
Stamina/ 2
Willpower/ 4
Finesse/ 2
Swiftness/ 3
Affinity/ 3
Wit/ 3
Charisma/ 2
Skills: Goatherding (Capable); Outdoorsmanship (Decent); Shamanistic Magic / Element of the Goat (Decent).
Perks: Learnt from the Master,
Loud,
Not a King,
Goatherd's Lament,
Not a King.
Equipment and Inventory: Cloak of Many Colours;
Derek the Goat;
Goatherd's Hat;
Staff.
Spells: Constitution of the Goat,
Summon Goat,
Step of the Goat,
Tongue of the GoatBio: Roger the Goatherd learnt the art of goatherding from the master himself, Erick the Goatherd. To fully comprehend, it must be understood that far far away, in the Mystic West, goatherding is just one of many Ways a man – or woman – can follow with the hope of attaining enlightenment.
Since the tender age of 6, when his parents wept their farewells and sent the then Gerard away to learn under the harsh but wise tutelage of Erick the Goatherd, Roger has learnt – or, rather, begun to learn – to escape the shackles of the self. He thought at one point that the aim was to become one with the goat; he learnt, after not very many years, that many things – inedible leaves, washing left out to dry, bricks – could become one with the goat, but he, in fact, had to become what was left: an essence; not an empty shell, but a hollow one, filled with what the goat left: joyous observation, the flow of water, nature.
Erick the Goatherd was delighted with his apprentice's progress. Every time Roger, as he became known upon reaching manhood, returned with the easy step of a new revelation, Erick beat him upon the soles of his feet with his staff.
The soles of my feet, thought Roger, one Tuesday – the second most important Tuesday of his life, although he didn't know it at the time –
The soles of my feet! What we would consider as dirtied, but in fact are the one thing that connect us to the living world!That was the Tuesday on which Erick the Goatherd began to reveal to Roger the secrets of life and death: not just enlightenment, which a pupil of Roger's perception would no doubt reach at some time, if he did not succumb to illness or injury, but the manipulation of the material world! Roger, Erick hoped, would surpass the master – and live for a thousand years!
For Roger, learning to summon goats, to speak to goats, to understand goat: all this was just another step on the endless and circular journey of understanding itself. It was an end in itself, and all ends were an end and yet no end. He had begun, by the age of 26, to finally realise that mastery of life and death, as much as mastery of goats, was just another way of truly grasping the way it is.
Setting aside the esoteric arts, he concentrated himself upon the Way of the Goatherd, and headed East. There was a great war, and if he should master the Way of the Goatherd in such conditions, then surely such mastery would set him in good stead for the rest of his joyous path?
Erick the Goatherd shook his head, and smiled. Such wisdom! And yet such naivety! It would only be when he forgot the reason he left that Roger would realise the reason he left.
Roger was the son the celibate Erick never had, and the old Master felt a tear roll gently down his wizened cheek as he watched the young man leave.
There were truly, he realised, many Ways, and Erick had almost lost himself in the Way of the Parent.
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Topic: Spellbreakers! RtD. What shall we do with this story? (Read 13747 times)