Pieter is a Dwarf. He hasn’t always been a dwarf and he has always been a dwarf depending which timeline you’re in, which leads him to constantly have a slightly worried expression on his face like he’s trying to remember where he left his keys. His wrinkled brow is usually covered by lank greying blond hair which spills down over his tattered tabard of fraying and battle scarred white. Emblazoned in pristine shining yellow is the sun symbol of Pelor which is matched by his holy symbol round his wrist, his green leather elbow length gloves and shield slung across his back. His mace has been relegated to a loop on his ornate belt and his gloved hands are kept busy with a leg of chicken and a lump of cheese. These last two items have contributed to his sturdy frame which shows signs of his former barrel-chested body now gone to fat which is concealed behind his armour of dark green dragon-scales. A thin golden circlet sits above one larger eye.


Over a hundred and forty years ago, or just forty years ago depending on your point of view, Pieter was fighting in the badlands against the dreaded Orogs. Pieter was part of the Western Sun Company from the Temple of Saint Jerome and was an accomplished fighter. He suffered a near fatal poisoned wound to his back which couldn’t be fully healed by the clerics on campaign and so he was returned to the nearest city to recover. By the time he returned the campaign had moved on and he was unable to return. He then spent the next 2 years on guard duty at the temple and even with daily training his fitness diminished and he never returned to the physical peak of fitness he was at when he fought on campaign.
Once the other warriors returned he old friends were very different. Combat draws people together and he hadn’t seen or been through what they had and so was ostracised. He had been spending more and more time in the Temple. He was always a believer and had fought in Pelor’s name but had never given it much more thought than that however the area he was in had 2 years of harsh winters and mild summers which meant he spent more and more time guarding inside (where it was warm). He inevitably heard more and more sermons and found himself reading the religious books left in the pews. However never one for learning from written word it wasn’t until he heard Pelor speak to him directly that he decided to make a change of career.
“Pieter, Pieter, what are you doing with yourself Pieter? I have work for you Pieter, important work. You bear my mark and it’s now time for you to go forth. Go to the east side of the nave. In a draw hidden underneath the chair with the blue cushion you will find a tabard. Put that on. That will be your armour. While you wear that I will be with you. My hand will be on your shoulder and I will always be at your side. That will be my covenant with you Pieter. Now leave and follow my sign to the west. You will know what to do.”
Pieter followed Pelor’s instructions, found the pristine white tabard emblazoned with the shining sun symbol of his Boss and set off out of town. Over the next 5 years he worked as a wandering Cleric. Healing the sick and smiting the enemies of Pelor. His Boss stuck to his word and was always with him answering his prayers and giving him the power to complete the tasks he put in front of him all the while reminding him that he has important work for him to do. Pieter isn’t one to question his Boss, after all, without Pelor he would, at best, be an ex-warrior cripple probably begging for his supper in the street. Instead he is a holy warrior able to continue fighting for his god across time and space! Not many are lucky enough to say that. If Pelor says he has to go here or there Pieter will go here or there. Pelor’s a god (the biggest and best in Pieters opinion) and who’s arrogant enough to argue with that?


Harvest of Deed the_ravener DanielCawley