Wandering Cleric of Fharlanghn
“Every journey begins with a single step,” Trevelyan would say.
Trevelyan was a follower of Fharlanghn and was guiding an expedition to an island far beyond the edges of the known world. In one of the most perilous voyages he ever undertook, Trevelyan led the team to a forsaken temple where a group of cultists was in the midst of an infernal ritual too terrible to detail. As their chanting reached a climax, a fireball exploded in the center of their circle. It was then that the leader of the expedition gave the order to attack. They stopped the ritual, but not before almost every member of the party was killed. Surveying the carnage, Trevelyan came upon the focus of this dark ceremony. In the center of the circle was a deformed child tainted by the blood of a demon. Trevelyan said he knew then that the reason he was brought here was to decide your fate. He could have killed the child in fear of where he had come. Instead, he chose to make you his son.
Your youth was an exciting time. Trevelyan was always on the move, always following his walking stick to what lay just beyond the horizon. He trained you in the teachings of Fharlanghn, the god of distance, travel, and roads. “The road goes ever on and on,” he would say with a grin. Your diabolic visage could sometimes be a hindrance, so Trev taught you a simple ritual that allowed you to alter your features into that of another race. You learned it so well in fact that you were able to change back and forth at will. He took you from one end of Oerik to the other. You met people of every culture, saw ancient monuments and fantastic events, but always your thoughts turned back to the dark night of your birth and what purpose those cultists may have had for you. Whenever you would mention this, Trevelyan told you that whatever they intended, you always have a choice. You can choose to be the spawn of some dark ritual and let the ones who summoned you decide your destiny or you can choose to be your own man and follow your own path.
One night by the campfire, overcome by the need to know more about the circumstances of your birth, you asked Trevelyan when this journey you two were on would end. He looked back at you with sadness and simply said that was up to you. When you awoke the next morning, Trevelyan was gone. All that remained was his walking stick, his small pendant, and a note which read, “So you may one day find yourself.” The stick was etched with a dozen cities that Trevelyan had carved there over your time together, but there was one that had not been there before. You took Trev’s hint and set out for Sasserine, far to the south of the Flanaess, across the Azure Sea.
Trevelyan always said a journey is not about where it begins, but the choices you make along the way.