"I have often thought upon death, and I find it the least of all evils."
I come from Nietz in Osweldt. My mother Elizabeth and father Peeter ran the local store and my father was also the local librarian/bookseller.
My mother was unfortunate to become one of the undead while heavily pregnant with me. My father hid my mother from everyone, unwilling to reveal that she had become one of the undead. She went into labour and I was born. She escaped from her confinement and tried to kill me. My father couldn’t handle it any longer and killed her. She had managed to give birth to me before she had completely turned but by then it was too late. I was different; I had been touched by death. The forces of death seem to move through me and I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. I was afraid of this gift when I was younger. I couldn’t figure out why people stayed away from me. I took to spending time alone in cemeteries, crypts, libraries, anywhere I could be alone. I found solace in books but I also somehow felt closer to the dead, sometimes I felt like they spoke to me.
I found I had other talents, as much as I was drawn to death, I found that I could have the opposite effect as well. I had a healing touch. I could tell when there was no hope for someone, when they were going to die, but if there was any chance, I was able to help them get better. My father helped me to get a place in the local temple of Vaugh’han: God of Darkness, Death, and Secrets, where I began working as a cleric. But soon strange things started happening around me. I seemed to be able to cast more than just divine spells. I also was somehow tapping into the arcane.
After I started work at the temple, there seemed to be a rise in the number of undead creatures in the countryside and more of them were coming into the town. Townsfolk were starting to turn again and people were becoming more and more afraid and looking for someone or something to blame. They would bring their loved ones to the temple for healing. I knew that there was no hope for these people, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer. They seemed to blame me. The head cleric took me aside and asked me to take a leave of absence. He suggested that an organization such as PURE might benefit from my “gifts” and maybe they would be better suited to my skills than their temple. The pit of my stomach dropped at the head cleric’s words, but a moment later a warmth rose in my chest. I could do so much better than this. I would leave this rotting log church as a speck in the distance of my past. I would set out to become a stronger and more powerful magic user than he ever would be. By leaving this little podunk town, I could so much more to help Geftlubadd become what it once was.
I would need to plan what to do next. Travel in Geftlubadd had always been very dangerous; people were getting work as protection for farmers, merchants, etc. There were always people that needed healing or undead that needed disposing of. I could help with this. I knew I couldn’t stay in the village any longer. There were more skills and spells out there that I needed to learn and there were so much undead out in the countryside that I could deal with. If Geftlubadd was to become great as it once was, I would need to be an active be a part of it. I could try to see if PURE could use my services or maybe I could help the teams from the Church of Asharyyx that roam Geftlubadd, hunting down threats that are too delicate for Pure to handle.
I talked to my father. He told me that because of my mother, I had a connection to death and the undead but to take that curse and use it as a blessing to fight undead, use my skills to protect people from monsters and to help clear the countryside of the undead plague.