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Acolyte | Lost Sheep

A cleric with a most unfortunate history. Swept up in the wars of far and nameless countries, Orolei's hands have caused more harm than good in his time. Repatriated to Val-ar-Aion as a prisoner of war, he at first envied the seeming innocence of its denizens; though he was born there, he held only the haziest memories of the place. By all appearances, the country was a paradise, as lily-white as its marble spires, among which Orolei was for all intents a foreigner. But all that glitters is not gold, and the history of the city is stained with vice. It has been an age since Val-ar-Aion's clarions sang to herald a coming war, but ere long they shall sing again. Just outside the protection of the Brighthammer's peace, a great anticipation thrums in the air. The young who have yet to taste of horror rise eagerly to meet it, while the old hide their faces in shame.

Here, perhaps, a lost lamb with fleece stained red might hold some influence. Orolei was not raised here, but he is Valari-born, and has reaped a trace of goodwill from this proximal innocence. The outside world is a corrupting influence, his countrymen would say: and so, his crimes were easily forgiven. But he has seen the calamity to come, should Val-ar-Aion's banners fly once more. Having traveled beyond the pale- having seen the ruin and horror of war, and been irreparably marked by it- here, now, he may be uniquely poised to save this country's soul. Given the chance to offset even one quantum of the grief he has caused, what sort of wretched creature would he be, not to take it?