Jorgel Rykuh

Overview
Jorgel Rykuh is a 22 year old half Dwarf, half Elf who dwells in Port Solanaria, Bardonia in Rathnir. He is the founder of Beetriaty, a cult-like religion around beetroots and cannibalism.

Appearance
Jorgel's most notable features are his vibrant blood-red coloured eyes and pointed elven ears. He has pale skin and short black hair and stands at 5'7/1.7 metres tall even with his dwarven heritage. He typically wears pale red robes and a darker red shirt and pants with a dark red cloak over his shoulders and covering his lower face. Jorgel's obsession with the colour red allegedly stemmed from his love of the taste of beetroots and blood.

As a child he reportedly had brown eyes, but around the age of 22 his eyes took on their new colour.

Personality
As a child Jorgel was peaceful and care-free, he had little to worry about as he spent most of his days farming and learning things with his father. In his adolescence he often helped out with small jobs in his local community: delivering drinks for parties and hauling building materials and crops. But his laid-back happy way of life was not permanent.

After the death (and what Jorgel believed to be the murder) of his father, his only family, Jorgel's view of the world grew bitter. Jorgel's grief would turn to rage and in the back of his mind he always had a lust for blood. But to those close to him he still showed compassion and he learned to control his thirst for vengeance and only unleashed it on those who wronged him.

Family
Jorgel's only known family was his alleged biological father, Hipps Rykuh. His mother is not known but Jorgel's genetics suggest she was an elf with black hair. Jorgel is unmarried and has no children.

Alone in the Depths
Hipps raised Jorgel for most of his younger years. He taught him the Tuberite way of life and frequently educated him on the history of Jorgel's town and nation. When Jorgel was older, Hipps took him to the town well for what Jorgel assumed was another history lesson. Jorgel was told to jump down and that Hipps would follow behind him, and he did as he was told though not completely sure why. He swam downwards in the well towards the light that shimmered at the bottom. That must be what Hipps was trying to show him. But the light from the torches in the caves below were blown out with what resembled a gust of wind and the caves were plummeted into darkness.

Taste of Blood
Jorgel threw himself out of the water into the complete darkness gasping for breath. He lay on his back soaking wet somewhere in Solanum's catacombs, and the dim red torches around him slowly glowed back to life. A rotten smell spread throughout the tunnels that Jorgel could not help but gag on as he got back to his feet. His blurred vision returned to normal, and he saw the hellhole he had fallen into. Chains hung from the ceiling and stains of blood painted the walls. He held back from throwing up at his grotesque surroundings until, amidst the stench, he smelt a pleasant smell, a smell he'd never known before. He instinctively followed the smell despite everything his surroundings told him, making his way down the stone corridors, as he did so fearing what on earth had happened in the catacombs. Eventually he found the room which the smell came from, the floor had puddles of blood, and most disturbingly, an almost fresh looking severed head staring straight at Jorgel. His heart froze for a moment, if it hadn't been for the entrancing scent he wouldn't have took a step closer, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. He turned his eyes to a large cauldron, bubbling at the back of the room. A rich red mixture boiled away inside and a steam with an irresistible aroma was coming out. He approached the cauldron and dipped his hands inside it, scooping out the soup in his cupped hands.

Hesitantly, he sipped the mixture. It was nothing like he'd tasted before. He looked down at the pot and noted its ingredients; it contained beetroots, a vegetable forbidden in the town because of religious Tuberites who saw it as heretical and it also had a meaty and metallic taste to it. He could observe bones floating in the stew and he knew that he had likely just eaten a human, but did not care. The taste was too compelling to refuse.

Then as he drooled over the cauldron, a face floated to the top of the mixture, and Jorgel jerked backwards. Shaking, he watched as a humanoid figure crawled out of the cauldron...

He sprinted out of the room down the maze of tunnels in the catacombs screaming out for his father. Eventually he managed to find the exit to the well and frantically swam out and ran home dripping wet. A day later, his father was found dead in the catacombs.

Vengeful Descent
Jorgel stood on the white sand of Solanum's shores staring out to the night with the other townsfolk. The sky and sea were a deep black, and floating on the still surface of the water was a small ship blazing alight. It was a quiet night; the people watched silently with only the sound of the gentle waves and slow crackling of the fire heard throughout the town. But inside Jorgel's head, his grief and rage screamed loud as ever.

His father who taught him and raised him for 22 years now lay in a fiery coffin because of Jorgel's cowardice. Because Jorgel ran away on that night. But Jorgel had no time to keep blaming himself; he turned his rage on what killed his father with its own two hands. He made his mind up fast, rushed home after the funeral and took his shield and kukri. He took one last breath and plunged himself back into the town well.

He trod cautiously around the tunnels, prepared at each corner to face his target. He slowly made his way to the cauldron room, creaking open the large wooden door again. He watched the cauldron with his guard up, waiting for the figure to emerge, but nothing happened. Growing impatient, he walked up to the cauldron, raising his kukri and blindly stabbing down into the mixture but he didn't seem to hit anything. His frustration boiled and he grabbed onto the cauldron to tip it over to be sure it was void of the creature, he pulled hard but the cauldron and its contents were heavy. Eventually the cauldron gave way, but after all Jorgel's effort he lost his footing and he fell under the cauldron as all of the mixture inside spilled over him. He writhed and squirmed in the searing hot mixture, groaning with agony. It ran into his mouth and burned in his eyes and let out cries of pain. But Jorgel started to hear other cries of despair amongst his own; the screams of women and children blared in his ears. Then images flickered before his eyes, visions of the slaughtering of all kinds of people in what looked like his home town. Images too vivid to not be real.

He laid on his back covered in red, exhausted and confused beyond belief at what was happening. But something had flickered in the back of his mind as he sat up and looked at the severed head in the corner of the room with the words "help us" still echoing in his ears and the images of a massacre still burnt into his eyes.

Blood and Beetroot
Jorgel swallowed back the mixture that had gotten into his mouth and closed his eyes. He sat still for a moment before his period of recovery was interrupted by a singular voice in his head which spoke to him.

"Through Blood and Beetroot, they can all be saved," it echoed.

Sight to Behold
Jorgel knew that the revelation he had had was not a result of some bad stew. No, everything he saw and heard was real, something out there was trying to talk to him. Something much bigger than he. But a guilt was eating at him from the inside; his father had always told him how cursed the beetroot was, and warned him that beetroot eating and worship had led to unspeakable tragedies in the past. As well as this, Jorgel could not comprehend what this greater being really wanted him to do.

He went atop the stone wall during the night and stared down at the still sea on the other side. In the centre of the sea was his father's ship, now charred and extinguished but still floating. A few odd sparks floated in the air around the ship, and the smoky smell was still tangible from the wall. Jorgel looked down at the ship and sighed, he shook his head and tried convincing himself that the visions were all meaningless, and that he should just do as he was told by his father. As he contemplated these thoughts, a quiet rumbling sound could be heard from below the water...

He flickered his eyes down at the water as the rumbling grew louder and louder and could be felt through the ground. He then looked all around him for an explanation but his eyes returned to the water, where the sound grew louder still. Dark clouds came quickly rolling in and the calm midnight blue sky turned a crimson red. Then his father's boat was capsized and a dark silhouette of something appeared to be visible beneath the water.

Emerging first were two arching horns and then a giant head, with bright red skin. The water crashed over the giant's body deafeningly as it emerged and the colossal kept rising until everything above its waist had came out from under the water. All the light of the moon was eclipsed by the towering being, its horns took up the whole horizon, and it turned its skull-like head downwards to look upon Jorgel. Jorgel froze as he stared into the two burning soulless pupils in the giant's empty eye sockets, but when his gaze dropped to see its chest, ripped open with its ribs exposed and a giant heart the shape of a beetroot inside, Jorgel realised that this must some kind of god. He dropped to his knees and raised his arms in the air in praise of the deity before him, and the deity let out an exhalation of acknowledgement through its open nose, before it slowly submerged and descended far beneath the water again.

Jorgel turned around atop the wall to face the town, to see all the people who had witnessed the deity with him, but all he saw were the empty streets of the town at midnight. The great rumbling of the being rising out of the water had not waken a single soul.

River of Red
Jorgel spent the following weeks growing beetroots in the town in secret, beneath an abandoned house, in hopes that he could share them out and awaken a love for beetroots in the townsfolk. Of course, he still had to plan on what he would do if people rebuked the beetroot... the voice had told him that he would need both beetroot and blood to save everyone.

A couple weeks passed in which he would get up daily and sneak into the abandoned building to harvest the beetroots and would store them in the building's basement. One day he made this same journey early in the morning, the sun had not yet risen, and there was a freezing chill in the air despite it being late spring. The streets were eerily empty and he hurried as quietly as he could towards the building, but just as he made it half way across the street, a bird-like creature flew down upon him letting out a hissing breath sound. He quickly covered his head with his arms as the creature clung to him and bit at his face. After a moment of struggle he managed to get the creature off and rushed towards the door of the building, barging against it so it would open. But the door would not budge, and Jorgel saw that it had been barricaded with wooden planks. The bird was already descending towards him again, and he quickly rummaged for the sheath on his belt. It let out another hissing sound as it opened its mouth, revealing two rows of small razor sharp teeth, it flew closer and closer until Jorgel could see every detail in its eyes, it kept widening its mouth to bite down on his face. In the last moment Jorgel drew his kukri out from its sheath and slammed the blade into its neck, slicing its head clean off.