Iago

Iago was born in the family of a small town carpenter . At a young age he showed signs of magical ability and the local vicar suggested that the child be shown to the abbot. The latter took notice and before long 12 year old Iago was being sent to the provincial center with a bunch of other talented children, to be seen by the bishop. Unlike the rest of them, two years later he was on the road again, this time to the capital city. With him he had the bishop’s letter of recommendation as well as a personal letter to the rector of the Arch Duke’s Academy for Promising Boys. While the first letter carried a seal of the diocese and was written in the dry and official language that any bureaucracy tends to gravitate towards, the second one was a lot less formal and much easier to open. Iago, who thought nothing of reading it, discovered that the bishop and the rector were cousins, and that some 45 years ago their lifestyles were quite a bit less proper.

While it was hoped that all of the magically talented children discovered by the church officials would one day take the cloth, it was also understood that this is not the likeliest outcome. Iago himself felt that the life of a clergyman is as good as any other, so he prepared himself for it by exhibiting a reasonable degree of piety all throughout his schooling. However, during his fourth and final at the academy an epidemic swept the central provinces and before anyone knew, five per cent of the population were in the ground, including Iago’s father and sister.

It wasn’t immediately clear whether the disease was natural or magical, but as Iago was upset and looking for someone to blame, he dreamt up a renegade afflictor and passionately vowed to stop him. As it was the time for those students who went on to the university to declare a future course of study, he requested to be sent to the College of Benediction. A few months later an official investigation concluded that there was nothing suspicious about the illness, and a slightly ashamed Iago, who wasn’t really all that interested in the healing arts, kicked himself a bit, but decided to stick it our for a while so that he wouldn’t look foolish in front of his peers.

The first year proved interesting enough, although, as he suspected, the act of healing didn’t do much for him. It was about as rewarding as any job well done, but didn’t carry any special sense of achievement. On the positive note, the “old BenCo” was traditionally populated mostly by women, so the day to day life was pleasant enough. By the end of the third quarter, Iago discovered that he is actually rather interested in the mechanics of the transfer of life force. It was much more concrete than most other aspects of being a healer.

The forth quarter introduced a new lecturer, an afflictor who was supposed to introduce the students to plagues and methods of disease control. Although initially dismissing the discipline as something dirty and unpleasant, Iago was soon won over by the professor who was genuinely excited about his subject and the opportunity to teach. The theory proved to be quite fascinating, and when the time came to apply the knowledge, Iago was surprised by how naturally it came to him. He began dedicating more of his time to the research, as well as the experiments, and by the end of his first year concocted a disease  that left not a single living paper louse in the university library. This was done with the help of his instructor of course, but was no less impressive for it.

At that point it was more or less apparent to everyone what his future career will be, and for the next four years he was learning all there was to learn about afflictions natural and magical. Most of Iago’s work was done in his laboratory, but every so often he would venture out to do some field work and test his new knowledge. Beginning in the second half of his third year, he was already teaching a classes of his own — the Theory of Pandemics, and his paper on the Application of Ritual Sacrifice in Diseases for Populations with Low Genetic Diversity was published, circulated among the specialists, and generally well received.

As he was preparing for his final exams in the end of the fifth year, an outbreak of an unknown disease began among the sailors in the docks district. The city council appealed to the university, and they sent Iago to investigate. Two days and only a dozen deaths later, he managed to not only find a cure, but also a source, which turned out to be a local brothel. Iago, who was hoping for something romantic, like a derelict ship, was a bit disappointed, but the officials and the merchants were quite happy, presenting him with a letter of commendation, which was useless but pretty. On the positive note, his excursion into the docs granted him his magister’s ring without having to suffer the annoyance of a final examination.

GM Notes: 
Here are the simple details that seem like they would map best (i.e., in the Seven Kingdoms):

The king (a weaker, feudal sort of king with more moral authority than actual power in his own kingdom, but a powerful man in his own right) has two major principalities.  One is more of a backwater, though still along a major trade route.  That would likely be where Iago is from.  The other contains the capital city, which among other things contains the Keltharian's only university as well as the main head of two important orders: the Grey Circle and the Brotherhood of Serena.  The former is the most powerful and magical association in Keltharian; the latter is a brotherhood of male healers dedicated to magical healing in the name of the goddess of healing and mercy: Serena.

There isn't really a formal church hierarchy (at least, none with any real authority); but within the king's own lands, there is such a thing.  There are also hospital/monasteries where men (the brotherhood) and women (the actual clergy) co-mingle in order to do the work of healing.

At the university, Iago would be involved in the brotherhood's formal training in healing; likewise, the lecturer was a practitioner of the "Divisions of Life" style, there to teach some of their insights into epidemiology, etc.  "Divisions of Life" uses Ritual Magic (Book) under "Energy Accumulation" rules, has three books associated with it (focusing on Necromancy, Pathomancy, and Toxicomancy), and emphasizes manipulating the essential "energies" of "undeath," disease, poison, and life.

Kiri Greenleaf

Kiri Greenleaf
Priestess of Kregin

Kiri Greenleaf is a cute, perky halfling with brown hair, grey eyes and an insatiable curiosity. Although somewhat shy around strangers, she genuinely likes people and is inclined to aid those in need. As a priestess of Kregin, she has studied stealth and survival as well as theology and the healing arts and has vowed pacifism towards innocents; in return, Kregin has granted her the gift of extraordinarily good luck.

Kiri grew up in Blytheton, where her parents, Kheldar and Bella Greenleaf, ran a small green-grocery. As a child, her intense curiosity drove her to “investigate” much of the town and the adjoining nearwood, including areas not intended for her: areas such as behind closed doors and inside locked boxes; areas which would have been inaccessible but for her nimble fingers and natural halfling stealthiness. During these “explorations”, she would occasionally filch small, inconsequential items that interested her; just as often however, she would leave little unexpected gifts to brighten people's day.

It was during one of these sojourns that Kiri first met the old cleric. She was examining her latest “find” – a small pewter emblem of a rat wreathed in flames – when she was startled by a brief “Ahem” from behind her. Turning, she found herself facing an old, white-haired human who calmly stated, “That's my holy symbol of Kregin you're holding there. I'd prefer you not take that, as I'm rather quite fond of it.”

“Oh, no! A priest of Kregin!” Kiri thought. Kregin, the Rat God. Kregin, the god of stealth and cunning. Kregin, whose followers were the rogues of the cities and the rough men of the wilds. Kregin, the god of fire! “I am sodead! Literally!!” And she closed her eyes, waiting to be burned to a crisp or gutted with a dagger or at the very least, turned into a toad or a rat.

But the white-haired priest did none of these things. Nor did he begin the tongue-lashing that even the gentle priestesses of Serena would have given her. All he did was pull up a chair and say, “Let me tell you a story.” And he proceeded to tell Kiri the story of how Kregin stole the sacred fire of the gods and gifted it to mortal-kind.

Now Kiri had heard the story told before, but this telling – this telling was different. In this telling Kregin took on a nobility and beneficence lacking in the other stories, Furthermore, the old man's voice and eyes expressed a deep reverence as he told the tale. All this touched something within Kiri – something within her very core.

When the old man had finished, Kiri looked down abashedly. “This is yours” she said, handing the emblem back to him. “I never meant to take anything that was important to anyone.”

“I know, child,” the priest gently replied. “That's why I told you that story. Now go in peace.”

Kiri walked to the door, but as she reached it, she turned to look again in wonder at the aged priest. 

“Do come back to visit this lonely old man from time to time, will you?” he said to her. “But next time,” he added with an infectious grin, “use the front door and knock, yes?”

With that encounter – though she didn't know it as yet – Kiri had become a student of the old priest. She returned to talk with him often, and over the seasons, she learning the arts of healing, the skills of survival, and the religious rites and rituals of Kregin. In short, she learned how to be a priestess of Kregin.

As her skills grew, she began to take on more and more of the daily duties of a cleric of Kregin. It was fulfilling work – if somewhat less than exciting – and she thought her course in life was set: to take over from the old man when he passed on, and to live the quiet life of a town priestess. But it was not to be.

One day, while listening to her mentor expound upon one of the finer points of situational ethics, three thugs burst in upon them, demanding the old man's holy symbol. His natural refusal to comply was not well-taken by the intruders, and the ensuing confrontation left Kiri injured, the priest mortally wounded, and the holy symbol in the clutches of the thugs as they hurried away. Unable to heal his extensive wounds or prevent his death, Kiri vowed to retrieve her mentor's holy symbol, intending that he be buried with his only prized possession.

It was three days later that Kiri slipped from a back room of one of the less reputable local inns. The thugs had been in the common room drinking and laughing about how much their employer was paying them to retrieve a “worthless trinket,” so she had had plenty of time to locate the holy symbol where they had hidden it in their room. Now all she needed to do was make her exit.

Fortune was not with her however, as the thugs chose this time to head to the local brothel, and literally ran into Kiri coming around the corner of the inn. Recognizing her and the holy symbol in her hand, they let out a roar and gave chase, eventually cornering her in a back alley. Seeing no exit and no escape, Kiri made a most heartfelt appeal to Kregin for aid and prepared to sell her life as dearly as possible.

Suddenly, a not-voice echoed in her mind: “Granted. Nero shall aid you.” The air began to haze, and the form of a powerful wolf appeared before her.

The wolf crouched to the ground and, though it did not speak, Kiri clearly understood it to say “Climb on.” Amazed, but with no other option, she did so. When she was aboard its back, it rose and said “Hang on. We run.” Then, making a great leap over the approaching thugs, the wolf dashed off into the night, with Kiri crouched on its back, madly clutching its fur in one hand and the holy symbol of Kregin in the other.

Once they had gotten well away from the thugs, the wolf slowed to a trot and then stopped. Kiri slid from its back and gave the wolf a deep hug and many words of thanks. She then bowed her head and raised a sincere prayer of thanksgiving and praise to Kregin.

The not-voice again sounded in her mind: “The holy symbol is now yours. You may call upon Nero as you will. You have done well.”

As her adrenaline subsided, the full realization of what had occurred began to sink in and Kiri stood awestruck: her prayer had been directly answered by Kregin himself! This was the sort of thing one only heard about in stories! She had been granted a rare blessing indeed!

A cold, wet touch brought Kiri from her reverie. Blinking, she saw that the wolf – “No, not 'the wolf'” she though, “Nero” – that Nero had nudged her with his nose. One he had her attention, Nero glanced back over his shoulder and said, “They may follow.”

This was no time to dally about, Kiri realized. Those thugs would be looking for her. And if their unnamed employer was that interested in her former mentor's holy symbol then he might send others after her as well. She was too well known in Blytheton; she would have to leave town. But where would she go?

Making a quick decision, Kiri headed back towards her home with Nero trotting alongside her. She had a lot to do before leaving for Darkwood Towne.