<br/><div class="floatleft">(http://img.4plebs.org/boards/tg/image/1372/89/1372892256691.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Roland Mourningstar<br/><strong>Class:</strong>Paladin (Holy Gun) 1/Gunslinger (Mysterious Stranger) 1<br/><strong>Race:</strong>Dhampir<br/><strong>Background Trait:</strong>Touched By Divinity<br/><strong>Character Sheet:</strong>http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=147507<br/><hr/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Character Background</div><div class="spoiler_body">   Belka Morningstar was a knight of Sarenrae, a crusader devoted to cleansing evil from the world in all its forms. She was a great champion of the Dawnflower, famed both for her victories in battle and her successes at bringing even the darkest of souls back into the light, but her greatest challenge - and ultimately, her downfall - came when she met the vampire Varash. Once a paladin himself, the vampire lord had fought helplessly against his hungers for decades; when he was confronted and defeated by Belka, he begged her help in achieving the redemption he had long sought. Swayed by his earnesty, she agreed, and they developed a close partnership that eventually swelled into love even as Varash inched his way closer to purification. When Belka became pregnant, it seemed to be nothing less than a direct blessing from Sarenrae, and they celebrated as such. <br/><br/>But when the day of the child's birth came, disaster struck. Foolishly, Varash had chosen to fast in prayer before his child was born, leaving him weak and hungry. The first faint cries of the pale and sickly-looking newborn warmed his dead heart, but the scent of rich and fresh birthing blood drew his hunger. In a berserk frenzy, he mortally savaged his would-be bride and sponsor, drinking deep of her blood and that of the midwives before fleeing in grief-stricken horror. Taken from the arms of his dying mother, the infant was put into care as a ward of the church, and given the name Roland in honor of a fallen martyr.<br/><br/>It was a difficult childhood for the half-breed dhampir boy, growing up in a temple dedicated to a god of light and fire. The other ward-children did not go out of their way to be cruel, but Roland was nonetheless excluded by virtue of his pale complexion, smooth features, and weak constitution. Worse, he found participating in the rituals and rites of the temple school to be painful to the point of agony, his undead heritage unnaturally sensitive to positive energy, and his nights were plagued with dreams of fiery wings and harsh golden light. Instead, Roland often wandered the town where the temple stood, finding odd things to watch wherever he could seek shelter from the sunlight. His favorite haunt became a tinker's workshop, where he was put to work doing minor repairs once the owner grew accustomed to the pale and quiet child. A former marshal of Alkenstar's judiciary, the tinker spent long hours regaling tales of his own adventures dispensing justice through the barrel of a gun, capturing Roland's attention even as the boy became a young man and his dreams grew ever more turbulent. Frail of frame, hateful of his monstrous father, and wracked with self-doubt towards the circumstances of his orphaning, Roland knew he could never pledge himself to the dervishes of Sarenrae. But as a lone hero, he could bring vengeance in his own fashion and pay off a small piece of the debt he owed the world for the cost of his existence. <br/><br/>A battered pistol salvaged from the junk heaps became his first gun, sent off with the old tinker's blessing and a pouch of shot and powder. He became a wandering hero for hire, following rumors of undead activity amidst the hamlets and villages of the countryside. Purifying haunted graveyards, hunting would-be necromancers, and sealing breached crypts of forgotten peoples were his stock in trade, but he never really felt satisfied; with another outbreak of the living dead always on the horizon, it felt as if his self-imposed crusade of penance had no end or even an impact on the world. But Roland had no answer, not until one night when he received not a dream, but a vision - an angel who claimed to speak for the empyreal lord Ragathiel, the source of Roland's dreams. Roland's quest would indeed never end, nor be more than a consistent thorn in the side of evil. He could choose to pursue it anyways, doing good on the small scale and frittering his long life away one zombie outbreak at a time. Or, he could accept the offer now being extended to him from Ragathiel, who saw potential in the young dhampir and an echo of the divine lord's own divided past. If he took Ragathiel's blessing, swearing to the principles of chivalry and duty alongside the vengeance already in his heart, he would travel to the Worldwound and the city of Kenabres. There, he would be able to strike at true evil, and possibly make a true difference. This would not be a long life, but it would be a meaningful one; without hesitation, Roland agreed. This was the destiny he had sought - redemption for his poisoned lineage in battle, and likely in death.<br/></div></div>