Points of Light
A Tiefling Paladin of Avandra, Akmenos self-exiled to discover his "True" calling. He recently returned to his family caravn to find that his entire clan had mysteriously vanished.
This place is boring. I hate boring. Avandra knows why I’m here. I mean that, by the way. It’s her will that I be here, apparently. I’m not so sure about that. Oh, it’s not that I have doubts in her will that I be in Winterhaven. It’s just that I think she has better use for a warrior’s arm than standing stiffly at religious ceremonies for some little farming town. That’s the part I haven’t figured out yet.
When I was younger, my family traveled a lot. It was sort of necessary when you’re despised and suspect wherever you go. The whole clan traveled from town to town in a caravan. We traded mostly for small things here and there, and finding work as tinkers. My father was the best at fixing things. For him, nothing was ever broken, merely disabled, and he could always get it working again. I can remember hearing him laughing merrily as he brought in some mud-smeared, refuse covered water-clock, going on and on about the fool who had discarded it.
Where did I get my faith? Well, my mother was the religious one. She maintained a small shrine in our family cart, with Avandra being prominent. Everything she did, she ran past Avandra first. Going out to gather food? Make a quiet offering. Washing up after a meal? Make an offering. Time to sleep? You’d better at least whisper a prayer to someone, lest you wake up dead, or worse. She taught me that objects have power in them, if you understand them. She also told me that Avandra favors those who make their own luck. So I make my own; in spades. I have a baby-tooth on a little chain around my neck, two scarves from my first love, one scarf that my mother gave me on my way out on my own. I have a whole host of good luck charms, because you never know just when Avandra will consider which one lucky, and I want to make sure I’m covered!
A few years ago, when we stopped in <insert name=”true”> I decided that it was time for me to move on. I heard Avandra calling my name and found myself drawn toward the church, and knowing that the traveling life was no longer for me, I offered myself to the head priest. I pledged to hold up the will of Avandra, to protect the trade routes, and to help keep people free. The problem is that I still got bored. One too many card-games, and a few too many, let’s just say “spirited” encounters with local ruffians and merchant-paid thugs, and it was established that priesthood was not for me. However, the roads need a strong sword, and small towns need a protector.
And that’s how I wound up here. Cards in one hand, and sword in the other. I’m here to learn humility, and the importance of proper respect. I have the bold action part down. So far I’ve been pretty good about it, but there has been trouble afoot. I just stood by while a group of outsiders came and brought down a death cult. A death cult! Right under our feet! I could have helped them, but my masters here wouldn’t let me. She said I wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready? Well Avandra knows I’m ready! Fortune favors the bold!