Quote Originally Posted by Jaryn View Post
You know what we don't have a huge amount of here? Clerics. So with that in mind...
(Please don't prioritise this one over people who need help with a 'live' character - I'm doing this purely for the stories and because I really enjoy creating characters!)
Human cleric of Lathander (light domain), cloistered scholar
Notable skills: Medicine, History, Religion
Notes: Quiet and bookish, happiest when serving in the temple library although did also do required stints in the infirmary. Lathander has other plans though - for him to go out and bring hope to those in despair, to stand against the undead and bring light to the dark corners of the world. He is possessed of a quiet faith, although sometimes wonders why he's the one adventuring rather than some of the more physically strong or charismatic brethren he used to know. Many people joke about how he should have been a cleric of Oghma upon meeting him, which he takes with good grace but is privately getting a little tired of.
I think I managed to hit all the points you were asking for; and found a way to develop the character's insight into life.
Also how certain events shaped his life!
A mystery lies in a photo seen in a book and a girl who he saw... strings for the DM to play with if they wanted to!
As always, I appreciate feedback!
Enjoy!
================================================== =========

Tourn Lightstorm came from a long line of family members who faithfully served as Priests of Lathander known as Dawnbringers. Tourn himself was merely considered what was affectionately known as The Awakened. The Awakened were those that faithfully served Lathander but had not done much to spread the word of their god.

Tourn had done some time in the infirmary helping out where he could; tending to the wounds of others, delivering bad news to family members of the deceased. It was during one such time where he had to deliver the news to a wife and her daughter that her husband had died at the hands of a roving band of Orcs known as The Red Eye. They had ambushed the wagon and her husband stood his ground, though he was only a farmer himself, so that a young woman could escape capture from the Orcs. He had given his life for another which was an extremely honorable way to perish; but the sadness Tourn had seen in the daughter’s eyes ripped his soul in half, each tear that fell from her eyes, siphoning his soul further and further away.

Tourn had always been obsessed with Religion because that is what his family brought him up to focus on. His mother, Neenuh Lightstorm, was a teacher in the city, so she encouraged him to study history; explaining that the mistakes of the past can often prevent them in the present. She also encouraged him, through his study of history, to embrace the diversity of history; to understand not only human history, but to read up on Dwarves, Gnomes, Halflings, and yes, even the Elves, despite their often superior attitude. Understanding the history and cultures of others would allow Tourn to better interact with them; but the notion of interacting with anyone did not sit well with him.

But Tourn could not shake the look on the young girl’s face; her tears streaking down her rounded cheeks, knowing she would never see her father again. Tourn began to take his interest in medicine much more seriously now, just so he might have the knowledge to save someone’s life and send them home, rather than to the heavens.

Many had seen him in the Great Library that they wondered if he might not be secretly following Oghma, the God of Knowledge, rather than the God of Rebirth. He tolerated the jokes from his family who would tease him, because as soon as he had finished eating, he would rush to his room to continue his studying or go to the Great Library where he would stay until early hours of the morning.

By the age of sixteen Tourn had read a history book that changed his life; passages which included artist depictions in a book, written anonymously simply titled “Against the Undead.” The mysterious tome was written by an unnamed wizard from the Dalelands that appeared after the mage had met their demise; appearing in Great Libraries such as the Sword Coast and Waterdeep. The tome detailed the wizard’s encounters with the undead, including passages speaking with survivors. The wizard had used magic to capture moments physically upon the page; inserting graphic, sometimes gruesome photos on the pages of the book. In one of the pictures he’d seen a young girl; almost identical to the one who had torn his soul apart when he had delivered the news of her father’s passing. His finger ran over the photo, awestruck at the uncanny resemblance between the two.

Tourn heard his mother step inside his room. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” she said with a smile. “Are you feeling well?” She placed her hand on his forehead.

Tourn smiled, “I feel fine mother, thank you,” he replied as closing the book. “I think I want to go out and see the world,” he finally said.

“You mean, outside the city walls to the farms and back?” Tourn’s mother asked, her soft brown eyes looking at him quizzically. He’d never been one for going outside unless it was to the Great Library or the Cathedral.

“No,” Tourn answered, running his hand along the cover of the history book. “I mean, adventuring, for lack of a better word.”

Tourn’s mother sat down shocked. “Adventuring? Why? What can you get out there that you can’t get here?”

Tourn shrugged, “Everyone I know already knows the beauty of Lathander. There is an entire world out there that has been ravished by war, seen loss, seen death; they’ve lost their way, lost their hope, lost their faith. I want to do what Lathander would expect of me; I want to find the lost, the broken, and the hopeless and restore their faith and show them the light.”

Neenuh’s eyes brimmed with tears as she put her hands on her mouth to prevent her from bursting into an uncontrollable fit of tears. “You have your father’s spirit,” she said, thinking of her deceased husband. “He is watching and smiling right now.”

She stood and hugged her son. “Be the storm that brings light to the world…”