Gojo

Gojo, The Gentle Nightmare

“He who smiles after forgetting how to cry.”

Alias: Gojo

Race: High Half-Elf (Albino)

Eyes: Light Blue

Hair: Snow-White

Skin: Porcelain-Pale

Born: 17th of the Sixth Month, 591 PR

Origin: Hollowcrest District, Abyss Empire

Alignment: Chaotic Evil

Class: Warlock – Pact of the Hungering Maw

Deity: Mog, the Cannibal God

Title(s): The Pale Smile, Flesh-Wrapped Prophet, The Name-Eater, Jester of Mog

A Childhood of Kindness in a Dying Empire

The Abyss Empire was an empire of despair by the late days of Zelistra’s War, plagued with infernal pacts, fiendish raids, and civil collapse. And yet, amidst the blood and ash of those crumbling days, the Jozalin household stood like a candle in the dark.

Elisyra Jozalin, a high elven scholar and healer, and Garron Jozalin, a half-human playwright, raised their son Gorik with gentleness and imagination. Their Hollowcrest home was filled with warmth, books, song, and subtle magic. Even when Zelistra’s demon generals stormed the outer cities, the Jozalins refused to surrender to fear.

“The world may end,” Elisyra once told young Gorik, “but you will always begin again, my sweet boy.”

Gorik was beautiful—strikingly so, with his albinism giving him an ethereal, dreamlike quality. Kind to animals, curious about the stars, and compassionate to strangers, he was loved by many in the Hollowcrest circles as the “Lantern Child.”

But beautiful things do not go unnoticed… especially by gods who hunger for more than flesh.

The Feast of Names – When Mog Came to Eat

In the spring of 605 PR, on the Feast of Names—a traditional Abyss celebration of ancestors and identity—Gorik vanished.

He was 14 years old.

He had wandered into a side-alley to help a coughing beggar boy. That boy, however, was no child—it was a Moggite Harlequin, a shapeshifter and feeder of Mog’s will.

The ritual was simple:

Gorik was offered a pact, sweetened by false love and cosmic riddles.

He was tricked into speaking his own name backwards under moonlight and then consuming a sliver of flesh shaped like his own tongue.

That night, Gorik Jozalin was devoured—by himself.

The Birth of Gojo

What emerged from that alley was not the same child.

He smiled too easily. Laughed at inappropriate times. He forgot where he lived. He forgot who he was.

When guards asked his name, he simply replied:

“Gojo! It’s fun to say! Go-jo-go-go-gooo~”

He wore the name like a jester’s mask and began speaking in riddles. His magic began to manifest, uncontrolled—tongues of hunger, whispers that unmade memory, hexes that caused others to forget their own names.

The Jozalins searched for months. They never found him. They say Elisyra went mad trying to find her son, and Garron’s plays turned bitter and strange before he vanished into the North.

The Warlock of Mog

Gojo was taken in by the Claw Choir, a cult of Moggite warlocks and fleshweavers. There, deep beneath the Black Maw Cathedral, he was taught to refine his pact.

Gojo became a Warlock of the Hungering Maw, a prophet of divine forgetting. His gifts were terrifying:

Name-Eating Hexes: He can erase identities from the minds of the living.

Hollow Tongue: His words can cause madness or obedience.

Memory Leech: He steals memories for power and offers them to Mog like fruit on a platter.

The Laughing Maw: His eldritch blast appears as a gaping maw made of teeth, song, and screaming joy.

Gojo believes in nothing except the sanctity of appetite and the joke that is life. He views memory as a chain, and by eating it, he believes he is liberating the world from sorrow.

The Hungry Smile That Walks

Now, in 620 PR, Gojo is a wandering nightmare dressed in silk and laughter. He dances through ruined towns. He appears before mass tragedies and vanishes just after. Some say he speaks to forgotten gods. Others say he feeds on the dying whispers of history itself.

His warlock patron, Mog, is delighted. Gojo is faithful, chaotic, and beautiful—a walking paradox: a child raised in love who became an apostle of hunger.

VI. What Remains of Gorik

There are flickers of Gorik Jozalin left in Gojo. Sometimes he hums lullabies no one remembers teaching him. Sometimes he hesitates before killing. Sometimes he weeps when he sees families embracing.

He doesn't know why.

But Mog is always watching. And every time Gojo falters, the god whispers:

“You can forget that too, my sweet.”

Gojo's Signature Quotes:

“I had a name once… but it got stuck between my teeth. So I swallowed it. Tasted like stars and crying. Hehe.”

“The world tastes like burnt sugar and old dreams. Gojo remembers that much. Or maybe... Gorik did. Either way—let’s be friends before Mog eats us both.”

"Gojo dances in the marrow of the world. You all built kingdoms on meat and called it civilization. At least Gojo is honest."

"My Name Gojo"