In Mendev, worship of Iomedae reigned supreme. The goddess who led the charge against the Worldwound was held in the highest regard, a shining beacon of virtue and courage, and her service was considered a great honor. Warrior-priests were trained in combat to protect the world from evil. Noble houses in Mendev considered it a high honor to dedicate their first child to the temple, showing their high morals and commitment to the goddess.
At least, that’s how it began. As the Shining Crusades faded into memory, and memory into history, the sacred duty of the Iomedaean faithful became routine. Today, the temple is still one of the most powerful political bodies in the region, but few remain who carry out the Inheritor’s ideals of justice and common good. Among the noble houses it’s fashionable to dedicate a third- or later-born child to Iomedae’s service as a display of good virtue, so that such virtue doesn’t interfere with business. While the temple still has Iomedae’s favor-- it does, after all, serve as the organ of her will in the region-- for all the priests and acolytes it boasts, she bestows her divine magic on only a handful.
This has not escaped the notice of those at the temple. So Father Carian, one of those few chosen by the Inheritor, will forever have a particular day etched in his memory.
"Father Carian!"
The priest opened his eyes and turned away from the morning sunlight streaming through his window. He blinked at the young elf who'd just burst through the door of his office. "Sethiel? I didn't expect you for another hour at--"
"This couldn't wait, father. Since we're supposed to open our hearts and minds to the will of Iomedae, I had to tell you about a vision I had last night!"
Carian frowned. Had this been any other acolyte coming through his door, he would not be remotely interested in the flights of fancy dreamed up by a starry-eyed youngster. However, he had to admit a certain affection for the elf, who looked hardly older than he had when Carian himself had come to the temple as a boy. Sethiel was easily the most tenured acolyte, walking the temple halls for generation after generation, never aging by so much as a year. He refused to press for advancement to full priesthood if he didn't have Iomedae’s magic, so he continued his cooking and cleaning and arms practice and all other menial tasks expected of his position. Carian couldn’t help but admire the elf's devotion, and even after advancing to priesthood-- and being chosen by the goddess on top of that-- still considered him a friend.
"A vision? I'm listening."
"Sethiel nodded excitedly. "A visit by Queen Galfrey! She told me, what was it... 'A new kingdom will soon be born in Brevoy. A young thief will seek a better life and find a crown. The Inheritor wants you beside the throne, to bring justice to the Stolen Lands.' Can you believe that?"
"I... can't," Carian said cautiously. The message Sethiel remembered was oddly specific, Carian had to admit, but he placed no importance on dreams. "It's strange, isn't it? A new kingdom? In the Stolen Lands, of all places? It's overrun by bandits and worse. I... don't know if you should believe it either."
"And I wouldn't," the elf agreed excitedly, "except for this." He held up the sword-and-sunburst medallion they all carried. In his hand it filled the room with a flood of positive energy-- an unmistakable sign of divine magic.
Sethiel left the temple the following day, with a brand-new priest's medallion and an enthusiastic Carian watching him go. Some weeks later, the elf was given an assignment to clean out the Stolen Lands, just as his vision had predicted.