Two men stand beside each other. One grizzled with a weather beaten face and salt and pepper hair, while the other was young and still in his prime, fresh stories of previous battles marking his face. Both wear icons of valor upon their garb yet the elder had left the battlefield for the temple of Iomedae. Between them a young girl in her mid teens, fire red hair and eyes to the ground.
“They found her in the woods. Alone, malnourished, borderline feral. We have an idea what happened to her though, the scar on the right side of her face and neck are akin to other survivors of a Darkblight attack. We at the temple had done our best to teach her the way of Iomedae over the years, but she is prone to violent outbursts. The other day she broke a boy’s arm with a stick for teasing her. She says she can’t remember but there are witnesses that say otherwise. I’m afraid we can only do so much and hope that you can help guide her towards a more productive goal. Show her how to fight for good and protect others.”
“Yes high priest, it will be my honor. We’ve had others like her and have helped them all the same. She’s in good hands.”
