Honoring real family members?

[zyggythorn]

Hi Playground, so I write this post with a heavy heart:

Just got news that my Grandpa has about a month and a half left. And that my dad may not see the end of the year. And the same with my dog.

It's been a great day! /Sarc

Anyways, my way of pulling through these times has been to build characters that are based off of whoever it may be. Then drop them into whatever campaign I'm running at the moment to give them a certain touch of immortality and eternity.

In short, I was hoping that one of you master min-maxers could help me build any or all of them!

I was also wondering if anyone else has done something similar for their absent friends and family.

Thanks in advance!

[flappeercraft]

Hi Playground, so I write this post with a heavy heart:

Just got news that my Grandpa has about a month and a half left. And that my dad may not see the end of the year. And the same with my dog.

It's been a great day! /Sarc

Anyways, my way of pulling through these times has been to build characters that are based off of whoever it may be. Then drop them into whatever campaign I'm running at the moment to give them a certain touch of immortality and eternity.

In short, I was hoping that one of you master min-maxers could help me build any or all of them!

I was also wondering if anyone else has done something similar for their absent friends and family.

Thanks in advance!

For the dog, animal companion of your dad as a druid or maybe a familiar for a wizard/sorcerer if you can homerule that. All I can think of right now about but maybe instead of adding them as characters you could add them as plot hooks or something like that. Also, hope your Dad and Dog get better, I wish them luck.

[zyggythorn]

For the dog, animal companion of your dad as a druid or maybe a familiar for a wizard/sorcerer if you can homerule that. All I can think of right now about but maybe instead of adding them as characters you could add them as plot hooks or something like that. Also, hope your Dad and Dog get better, I wish them luck.

Welp, the dog was with going to be either an AnC or a familiar- such is the fate of a beagle.

I was actually considering using my Dad and Grandpa as family members for the party's paladin- his character arc is coming up after the rogue's arc.

Mentioning that does remind me of another noble family that would work great for it, however- dogs and warhounds being something of a family symbol there. The fact that I've already given my first dog a bit of immortality in that family anyways is just icing on the cake.

The game I'm using at the moment is 3.P, for the record.

Any suggestions on how an old soldier would be classed up? The best I have at the moment uses a Dragon Order Cavalier.

[Pyromancer999]

There's also the Wild Cohort (http://archive.wizards.com/default.asp?x=dnd/re/20031118a) feat for the dog, no casting required. Levels in Gleaner (http://http://www.giantitp.com/articles/gk7uKJeF296jRcx1NJw.html) can boost the HD and physical bonuses further with Blessed Beast.

For an old soldier, it would depend on how they are and what type of fighting style they do. Warblade levels and Crusader are equally viable(and do get benefits from the increased mental stats from Old age. But any full BAB class could be it. If you want more knightly feel, could do a few levels of knight. If using Pathfinder, a few levels in Trench Fighter and/or Gunslinger would reflect more modern styles of fighting.

[Ashtagon]

Spend time with them. Talk to them. Ask them to tell you their story.

You can make characters later.

[Erit]

Spend time with them. Talk to them. Ask them to tell you their story.

You can make characters later.

+1 to this. Come back when you can write us their biographies. Let them know that you care enough to memorialize them, it'll probably make their passing easier.

[weckar]

I hate to be the one to ask this, but is this a matter of honoring or coping? The appropriate advice for either situation is wildly different.

[zyggythorn]

+1 to this. Come back when you can write us their biographies. Let them know that you care enough to memorialize them, it'll probably make their passing easier.

Al was born to a family of Belgian immigrant farmers around 1929, in Middle Minnesota. Birth records were a bit more difficult to obtain at that time and place, so the accuracy is forgivable. Things went beautifully between him and his 9 siblings, living in a grand home raised by their Father and his brothers for 7 years. Then came the sickness. I personally am not aware of exactly what it was, and I haven't been able to cross-reference the dates with records of the time, but my current theory is scarlet fever. It took his youngest sister and brother.

For much of his early life, he- along with his 7 remaining brothers and sisters- worked on the family farm- heavy work, dangerous work, rewarding work- and spoke both Flemish and English around the house. That slowly became less of a thing once he reached schooling age. His teachers hated that he would occasionally speak in his 'GramPuh's' language in class, most yelled, others shamed him with the dunce cap, and a rare few were more... Corporal... In their persuasions.

So it came to the surprise of none when he dropped out at Age 14. He would work at his family's farm, and his neighbor's, and sometimes even their neighbor's neighbor's farm. When he was exceedingly lucky, his Father would allow him to pull out the ol' John Deere boxer engine tractor and plow the fields in one go.

Life went by as life does, some seasons bringing a bountiful harvest, others bringing enough for the family and little else. But it was enough. Until the flood came.

They had little warning, but enough that they could dig a diverting trench to guard their crops, livestock, and home. Their downstream neighbor, wasn't so lucky. The whinnying of horses as they were crushed by the driving floodwaters and splintered timbers of a barn was something that would haunt him- to the point of refusing contact with them until his Granddaughter many decades later.

It went on and on like this- Seed the Spring, Tend the Summer, Harvest the Fall, Slaughter the Winter (with the family's new acquisition of beef cattle) until 1950.

Al met Elaine. The woman beyond any of his wildest dreams.

It was a pity that he was signed up for basic training with the Air Force, scheduled to leave in 3 short months.

It was a tragedy what happened next.

War broke out in Korea. The North and South split, and all sorts of harried things (that I will not mention because of the foggy nature of war, and rules of this forum) occurred. Suffice to say, Al managed to get lucky in his assignment- all those years pouring over the Ol' JD gave him a knack for repairs and mechanical matters. He still managed to earn a purple heart (he wouldn't tell me the story of how that happened- he won't tell anyone that story), despite his station.

Even so, with the conflict raging around him, he was certain to write Elaine every day. She wrote him every day too. It was the stuff of Nicholas Sparks novels. His brothers in arms would occasionally tease him for it- as much as anyone would tease another man for having a girlfriend. It didn't bother Al, however. What did bother him, was the knowledge that he could never give her the life she deserved.

Even so, he soldiered on. Managed to save enough money for a pretty pearl necklace. That because of certain regulations, he could not send. (Again, things I'm not aware of- by now- the statute of limitations has certainly expired, so here's a fun bit!)

So he did the same thing any man who's young, dumb, and in love would do. He brought the necklace. Then sent a letter to his family each and every day.

Years went by. The fighting stopped. The War didn't. North and South Korea remain separate.

Al came home. Celebrated surviving, toasted those that didn't.

Then he went to a jewelers. With many envelopes in hand. The man at the counter eyed Al.

Al dumped the contents out. Pearls. The ones from Korea.

"How much to put it back together?"

Two weeks later, Elaine was walking about town with he boyfriend- no, Fiance- about her arm, and a string of pearls at her neck.

(Fun fact- that was the 'something old' at my Mother's, Aunt's, and Sister's wedding)

A few of years go by, and it's now 1957. Al was given the farm by his father, and his now wife has given him a son.

I'm a bit foggy on things from there until the 80's, but between 1957 and 1969, Al and Elaine have 5 children. My mother happened to be the middle child.

Flash cut to the 80's! Al and Elaine are still working the farm. Cattle and corn and beans and more. Their three eldest are out of the house and married, or about to be, and their two youngest work the farm with them.

Al's soon to be blessed with his fifth grandchild, but things around the farm are not as they should be. The crops aren't growing properly, and the cattle are sick. His water also tastes... Wrong. As it turns out, his well was in fact contaminated. (Hazy on the details as to what it was contaminated with.)

He was one of the last in that area to switch to piped water.

Flash cut to the 90's! The man has 6 grandchildren as of June 27, 1991 (that'd be your's truly), and even more to come! By the time his 5 children are done, he'll have 12 grandchildren total.
The important thing in the 90's, however is that he finally realized what he never wanted to admit.
He was old.
He was tired.
He couldn't be a farmer any longer.

He passed the family farm onto my Aunt (who is still running it to this day), and moved to the suburbs for a bit of rest.

And he hates rest.

He's worked every day of his life, and to not do so drives him stir crazy. More on that in a bit.

My family made certain to visit atleast every other Summer- the consequence of moving a nearly 1000 miles away, and I've got plenty of memories that kind of hurt to think about right now, so I'll just share the one.

For his 80'th birthday, my mom had a plan. She would get a story from each grandchild, and put them in a book. Just a little one page deal. No pressure. Well, here I come with a 5 page ode to the mulberry tree on the farm. Had to cut it to 2 pages, but it was still the one story to make him cry. Wish I had been able to visit, but things like school got in the way.

By the time I was able to visit him, it was because I had just gotten engaged, and in all my beautifully inappropriate humor, because I wanted my grandparents to meet my now wife, "before they die."

As it turns out, they love her, she loves them, and she also finds my Grandpa- quote- "Adorable! Especially when he does that turbo-waddle with his Walker!"

But about that whole 'stir crazy retirement' thing?

It's also his greatest fear, though he wouldn't admit it. The inability to be useful. To hold others up. And eventually, to hold himself up.

Today, I found out Al can't keep himself standing. And that soon, he won't be able to keep his heart beating.


I hate to be the one to ask this, but is this a matter of honoring or coping? The appropriate advice for either situation is wildly different.

Honestly? Both.

At this point, I'm more 'pre-mourning,' mostly due to the geographical distance.

[Ashtagon]

My suggestion about talking to them and asking about their stories wasn't so we could build a more accurate character.

It was so you would spend more time with them. You need to be with them for your sake, not for ours. Seriously - talk to them. Because you won't be able to do that later. And later on, you'll regret not having done so.