Monday Night Game
Forlorne elf born to the Mordent spire, national of Andoran. Student of Nethys, visionary, rune caster and scribe..
Gethsemene Nailo Elven Cleric of Nethys 1st level S13,D12,C10,I16,W16,CH11 HP:8,AC:15,Fort+2,Ref+1,Will+5 Weapons and Armor:Longsword,Dagger,Quarterstaff,Chain mail hauberk Domains:Knowledge and Rune Feats: Spell focus(Conjuration), Scribe scroll(B) spells: 0-Virtue,Guidance,Resistance, 1st-Comp lang.(D), Shield of faith, Bless
__ Gethsemene traveled to Andoran as a youth over a hundred years ago, scribing the words of mortal history with his father who was in the employment of several different noble family’s. They produced copies of genealogical text, maps,religious documents or what ever needed to be done. The practice was part of Gethsemene’s education as he headed toward the career of being an practitioner of the arcane arts. When a freak accident took his fathers life, Get was left alone in the world of humans. With no clear way to return home the young elf hired into a wealthy home as a research librarian, scribe and book keeper; loosing him self in the dusty tomes and manuscripts unread by the majority of the household. To this end he discovered the teachings of Nethys and found some comfort in the abstract theology and mysticism. After watching several sets of human friends grow old and pass away, the tragedy of mortality bore down on Gethsemene and he took his faith and fate into his own hands. Proceeding with the formula arcane, the troth pervaded his dream scape leading him into the initiation of the “All seeing eye”. Upon waking, Get found a man enslaved in the memory of a dream and several visitors waiting his audience. The visitors were fellow acolytes of Nethys who welcomed him to the church. They shared each others company for the evening exchanging philosophy and metaphysical insight. The next day Gethsemene was inspired to accept his current colleges hasty invitation to travel and interested to learn of their new friend; a warrior who had recently escaped the slave pits of Cheliax…. Gethsemene wasted no time in collecting his few earthly belongings; a shirt of mail and sword that belonged to his father, both bearing the dust of a hundred years but no a spot of rust. “No time to await destiny when the storm in the eyes of god can be seen on the endless road of dreams.” He momentarily wondered where the thought came from as he hurried out the door to meet his waiting companions. An amulet he found in that case with the sword and mail; beneath the bed, stored away by his father, the semblance of a mask cast in silver half tarnished…. __