| Lathen Noblin Race:Human Sex: Male Age: 25 Class: Cleric Ht: 6' Wt: 200 lbs Hair:Red Eyes: Green Skin:Bronzed Colors:Green&Red Lathen Noblin was born at exactly the wrong time. He was born to a unmarried woman, during a period of drought. Normally this would have resulted in the child's death, Lathen, however would have none of it. His will to live infused his mother with the strength that she needed to provide for them. It was this that allowed him to make it in the tough streets of Linthan. So he survived his first years... quickly growing up and helping to provide as best he could, the time went by quickly, and his childhood a fading thing. At 12 he had to provide solely because his mother became ill. Not religious before, he abandoned all the gods then, leaving them the way that they did him. He came to believe that the best way was for man to succeed on his own. It was while he was on his way home one night that his life was changed. He had purchased the food that he and his mother would need for the week and was on his way home. Back, in an alley, he heard a whimpering, moving back he found a small child. Under the shapeless rags and dirt that it bore, it was hard to determine its sex. Upon finding it he picked it up and held it to him. As if the presence of a another human was bliss for it, it stopped crying and looked up at him with eyes that were bleary from crying. He realized that the child was probably cold, hungrym and scarred, a position that he had found himself in many times, he decided to take it home. First he wrapped his coat around it, then he headed off into the poor quarters, towards where he himself lived. Suddenly the child started to squirm... and pointed ahead, into a dark path that had long ago fallen into more disuse than the rest of the surroundings. Along the path sunlight came in fits, as if it too was loathe to enter. And at the end was a small church. Lathen was loathe to enter the building, but the reaction of the child held him to his path. Thinking this to be the child's home, he said uttered quick prayer, more as a ward than anything else, and entered the building. The arcitexture was of an old style, remenescent of when the church catered to the people, and the gods cared. The remains of a few benches littered the floor, and anything that was valuable had long ago been taken. In the center of the floor was the alter, a large stone, it might have been white once and held reliefs of its patron. But time and the elements had erased the carvings and turned it grey with age and dust. Putting the child down, he kneeled in front of the alter and began an earnest prayer, he beseeched all the gods asking for help, for healing for his mother, for something for a mission for himself, for guidance. There was a loud cracking sound... and the alter split in half. Beneath it was a small bowl of silver. It contained but a few drops of water. Almost instinctively he picked up the bowl. It filled him with a sensation of age and peace. Heading towards the door, he remembered the child, looking back, he saw his coat lying on the ground. Walking over he picked it up and beneath it was a marker. Sissay Wande it was marked, B-1053 D-1058. The small child must have been dead nearly a hundred years. Making his way home he went first to his mother and when he touched the bowl to her lips she trembled. Do not waste any more on me, she said, I am unworthy. Keep the bowl, take it to the temples, there someone will tell you what it means. But the temples couldn't help him, so wrapped up in themselves, they cared not for a relic of the past. Since they had worked so hard to erase it elsewhere. Viewing this as he expected he was about to head back when he was stopped by one, a cleric, not wearing the white of the others. He was small, and his robes thin and stained. He wasn't clean or disdainful, and he had a look of weariness to him. He worked, and on the behalf of the peoples that the churches had forgotten. He introduced himself, humbly, as Bruce. A worker of the true gods, and he told Lathen one thing that made sense. The Gods hadn't abandoned man, man, in his greed, had abandoned them. Turning them from their true paths and teachings to one that expounded on the powers of the church and its heirarchy.' Joining with Bruce, Lathen began his quest, to find the true gods, the ones that were there, but had been forgotten. |