On an overcast day as sheets of rain poured upon the small coastal city of Selgaunt, Braith sat home. In a darkened corner of the humble cottage slept a small child. A paniced knock struck the door.

"Who's there?"

"Claethin," was the response. The city's port guard.

The door creaked open. A frazzled, tall, portly man quickly entered the cottage. His eyes buzzed around the room, but didn't connect with whatever they were searching for. Finally they settled on the man who let him enter.

"Braith," his voice cracked. He paused and dropped a small dead bird he had carried in unseen onto the table between them. Over the quiet, wind brayed and a sharp clap of thunder sounded. It seemed to be getting louder. And closer.

Braith picked up a small bracelet-like ring of large orange beads. He allowed one after another to fall from his hand against the others in the ring as he thought. He grimmaced. "I've already refused to worship and sacrifice to an evil god. What more is there to talk about?"

"The Bitch Queen is furious, and our only cleric sits playing with his toy. What more is there to talk about? Your duty to this city, at first!" As Claethin shouted the words he started to focus and snapped out of his frenzy. "Ships are sunk, trade cut off, and our food stores dwindle. All I ask is for one sacrifice so this stops and the city's people live."

Braith dropped his beads on the table and stood. "Please leave." His voice remained level and betrayed no emotion.

Claethin also stood and turned about, towards the door. Braith approached him.

"Good morrow to you," Braith said as Claethin reached for the door's knob.

Between breaths a dagger appeared in Claethin's hands. Quickly he stabbed it up into Braith. "She must be appeased." He twisted the dagger, and Braith exhaled as he dropped to the floor.

Claethin left as quickly as the dagger had appeared.

In the corner, the child Laeith slept on.

Laeith's father was killed by a local resident for refusing to worship the evil sea goddess Umberlee. Laeith was sent to a family of clerics, and was raised without knowledge of this, only that his father had died. The order worshiped Oghma, god of Knowledge.

As he grew older, Laeith eventually asked his foster family about this circumstances of his father's death. He was told little, just that his father was murdered for refusing to perform an evil act. He currently is unsure of how he feels about this — are principals worth dying over? Were they worth his having been raised by strangers? He also wonders about the exact circumstances and reasons behind his father's death.

Maybe it was his father's fault?

The future, which will happen over a slow progression:

Laeith is currently buddy-buddying up with Garm One-Eye, a strong warrior with a gruff personality. Not exactly cleric material. Not only that, Laeith's focus has been on dealing damage, shooting lasers (essentially) from far away to take down enemies. He's also been dabbling in the knowledge of a wizard, looking for more ways to take down enemies efficiently.
When he has time he may heal his party too. And an observant person may notice him spending more effort keeping certain allies in the fight.

Where is this going? Laeith is amassing power, and eventually (probably when we go through some apocolpyses) is going to tilt. I invision Laeith, after seeing wizardly powers are not getting him anywhere, starts heading down a darker path — taking on either some fairly vicious multi-class warlock powers, maybe becoming Spellscared, or something else slightly sinister. He's probably going to flip gods too (is that something he can do?). Basically he's going to break down and become not necessarily evil, but certainly questionable.

I invision this could become a good point of contention with our Paladin friend Toomb.

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