Rise of the Runelords
Paladin of Iomedae
The Dotoriicus, a name derived from the families long association with the Chelexian guard, have resided in the Chelish countryside for countless generations. Basil’s father, Gregor, was no exception. A captain in the Dotori’s ranks Gregor is regarded well and considered a capable field commander, often tasked with leading raids into the neighboring democratic state of Andoran. Recently Perin, Basil’s younger brother, has joined the coveted Dotorii, and like his father, has embraced all that comes with it, including the worship of demons.
The demon worship and taunting raids into the Andoran are what led Basil to break away from his family and its close association with the guard. His father fumed and disowned him, humiliated that the boy he had raised in the ways of the sword since he was strong enough to swing a blade had betrayed family custom. Perin vows to bring his rebellious brother to justice.
Basil’s mother focuses most of her energies into the illusion that her home is not the simple middle class dwelling of her social class. Decorating herself and her home in the finest things available to one just outside the city she has almost brought the family to the brink of bankruptcy. The virtues of greed, borrowing, and demonic vice are what she spends the remainder of her energies instilling in her three youngest children, all of whom are still in their first ten years.
Fleeing Cheliax and joining the Clergy
It was with no particular intention that Basil came to realize his divine connection to the Swordswoman. He had been on his own for what was approaching two years, and his third and twenty, when his future made itself known to him in the inviting wisps of a campfire’s smoke on a cold winter’s evening. Hungry and covered in the filth of a life spent on the roads and whatever labors the day provided Basil sought out the fire and hoped its keepers would prove kind. Finding them the first thing that caught his eye was the brilliant gleam of their armor. Their red and white standards also looked as though they had never seen a field of battle. The men were groomed and seemed kindly, not at all like the Dotori he had grown up around. The lone woman in the group was strong, her hair straight and clean. Like the men her armor was immaculate and her clothing pristine. Recognizing the colors as belonging to the worship of Iomedae he approached and asked if he could share their meal and their fire.
That evening he partook of their simple meal and accepted their invitation to travel with them.