Naref Belatolis the Holy of Faith, Captain of the Brigade

Role

Chapter 2

Naref spent much of his early days in the guild alone, focusing on his
actions, and how they apply to being a priest of the orb. He decided that
though his actions are noble and righteous, they can sometimes border on
hate and satisfaction of punishing the wicked. Realizing that this could
endanger his soul, he went to study with another clergy to mold himself.
He entered a time of service with the monks in the mountain, southeast of
Galadon. He was taught patience, calming techniques, and to see any
confrontation for what it truly is. A struggle to save souls. Whether it
be the soul of the enemy through word or blade, or the saving of an innocent
that the evil in the world intended to victimize. It is when we are confronted
by these things that our mind can fall into chaos, and only see what is
currently happening, forgetting the whole reason for the fight. Naref had
a very difficult time with some of the training, especially when particularly
evil scenarios were described to him. He however eventually won over his
mind, and learned to keep the final goal in his mind before acting. In this
he learned to stay his hand til his mind is properly prepared, to use his
mind for the tool it is, and a relief that his soul would remain pure.
Feeling more secure in his worship of the orb, he now seeks to join the
fortress as a squire to continue his fight with others of like mind. He
also wishes to commune more closely with his god at the altar of the fortress.

Role

Chapter 3

Naref was raised in Tar Valon, right around the time of the city's destruction.
He took this time, even in his youth, to try to help others whose lives had
been destroyed when the city was razed. He helped bury the dead, and start
to clean up the city. He did well with these things, but his true calling
still didn't seem to be being met. It wasn't until he confronted rioting
looters, and helped to defend a poor woman's home that he truly believed he
found what he was meant to do. He was meant to be a blade of the light
smiting those that would take advantage of those that cannot fight for
themselves. As his age grew he considered what his place would be in the
guilds of the city. He felt strongly pulled toward the priestly arts
and he eventually settled on the shaman guild, so that as a priest he could
still pursue the strong pull to fight for the right. He next deeply examined
the religions of the realm, and though many are quite noble, he could not
find one that truly embodied his beliefs. The Lord Shokai's church was the
closest he had found, but it did not strike a chord within him. He was
nearing despair, when he saw the thing that filled his mind, heart, and soul
with zealot joy and drive. The orb of the fortress was being carried through
the ruined city by a party of imperials, and though shadowed by such dark
ones, the orb shined bright as ever, almost even more so as it pass Naref.
The orb is the very embodiment of striving against the darkness, protecting
the innocent, and saving the world from darkness. It is a thing of such
holiness and zeal that all dark ones fear to have it where it belongs at
the fortress, and no matter how hard they try, it cannot be destroyed. The
orb is immortal, and will help steer him on his path of righteous warfare.

Timeline

Title History

Skill List

PK Statistics

PK Gank-O-Meter

Immortal Comments

Role

Chapter 1

Naref trudges his way wearily through the northeast gate of the ruined city.
He walks hesitantly towards a very familiar edifice... the house that he
grew up in. He crosses the front walk, and looks through a window and knows
that something cannot be right. No candles burn in the home, and though it
is time for dinner, not food sits at the table, or in the wash basin. "Mother
... Mother? It's me Naref, I am home." He hears a sob from a back room and
his mother rushes out to him, her grief plain on her face. "Your father has
fallen very ill, the healers and paladins of the city cannot seem to help
him." Naref's face goes the color of cold ash, and he walks to his parent's
bedroom feeling like some alien force is controlling his limbs. Coming up
to the bed, he looks down upon an emaciated man, who used to be his father.
"... so you come back *cough*, did you finally stop wasting time defending
old crones from having their dirty linens stolen...?" his father says with
old pain and anger putting color back into his cheeks. "Do you finally
think being a cobbler is good enough for you mister oh noble and valorous?"
Naref let's a tear slide down his cheek, but swallows his pain and says.
"I did not come to re-open old wounds father, but no I will not be taking
the path of a cobbler." His father's face screws up in horrible indignation.
"Please father, hear my words before you let such vitriol burst forth from
your lips." "I come to tell you, that you may finally be proud of your son
Naref." He pulls from behind his back a powerful looking crystal battle axe
that has the word "Faith" engraved on it's shaft. His parents gasp in awe
and a little fear of such a mighty weapon. "Since you last saw me father,
I have become cleric to a mighty god, Lord Orb. I have become a squire,
Maran, and now Captain of the Brigade of the Fortress. I have saved hundreds
of innocents a day, by using my body, skills, and faith to defend the weak.
I do all of this, hoping that you will see that I am truly your son, not
just a visitor in your home." Naref sinks to his knees beside the bed, the
words washing over his body like a cleansing rain, and like a weight has
been lifted from his soul. With tears in his eyes, his father leans over
and grabs his son's head between his hands, pulling Naref's ear close to his
mouth and says: "You have always been my son" he stops to take in a shaking
breath that is more than a little husky. "I have been hard to you, because
the world is a hard place. Without some steel in you, you would never become
the man you have become. I have always been proud of you, and knew you
would make something of yourself." His father stops, racked by a ragged
hacking cough. He motions for Naref to come closer again, as he is too weak
to rise. "It is good you come.... I will not last much longer. It is my
pride to finally let you know your lineage's name. We of the family have
always had to prove our worth, before we would be allowed to bare the family
name. Even I when I was young had to find my right to that name in my own
way" Naref's father gets a distant slightly annoyed look, that can only
come from those remembering the harsh lessons of our youth. "So... my son
let you ever be known now as Naref Belatoli