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Vaestrin was once a proud templar of his order, an exemplary fighter, and a neutral judge of law. The Bastion was a large occupying force, the remaining army of a once-great empire. And then the Great Old Ones took interest in their world from the farthest realms. Foul plagues and madness brought down whole kingdoms but the Bastion held out thanks to their discipline and routine. As a templar, Vaestrin turned to healing the sickness that spread especially among the devoted.

As the powers of the gods waned in an area, the Great Old One, Azathoth, came and devoured that area sending all to oblivion. Some mortals and gods attempted to stop it, but nothing could prevent the death and the weakening of the gods. As oblivion came closer to the Bastion madness became rampant. Anyone witnessing the quivering piles of viscera, the plagues of insect-like biting creatures, the many tongued demons, would be overcome with madness. Cults embraced the madness hoping to quicken oblivion and reserve a higher position in the next life.

Vaestrin was first and foremost the hand of the law and he would not let the madness overtake his fellow soldiers. He took control of the madness, allowing it to build within him, and in turn was able to shield those near himself for a short time. The madness took control of his body instead, twisting and warping it beyond recognition. When it was apparent his world would not last long, Vaestrin led a small contingent of soldiers and refugees through a portal to the Hub, a safe haven.

Having left his god, Vaestrin began to meditate and work to control his madness. In this new world powers began to return to him. As he tended the sick refugees, healing returned and madness could be sated. As a new holy symbol he chose a circle made of two teardrops: one white for healing, one black for madness.

Having lost his country and world, Vaestrin swore to fight madness and chaos wherever it existed, especially where it was associated with outsiders. Paranoia plagues him, wherever he goes he believes people aren't who they appear to be. Insanity takes the form of a black goo that sticks to everything and can never truly be cleaned. When he is not meditating for his powers, fighting or investigating outsiders, or healing the sick, he can be found cleaning his equipment and washing his skin of the imagined black goo. As a symbol, Vaestrin traced a symmetrical black blotch in the middle of his pure white cloak since he would never be satisfied that it could be truly clean.

Survivors call him Vaestrin the Terrible, because his appearance is so terrifying. Those he comes to heal who are mad often scream until he calms them with a prayer. His skin ranges from green to blue to purple and is sometimes translucent enough to show his muscles or organs beneath. It appears scarred from fire. He no longer has any hair upon his head, instead he has grown tentacles that when unbound stand straight up or wave like a sea anemone. He usually wears his tentacles bound in a knot behind his head or under a hood. His eyes are pure black, often with silvery whirls floating from one side to another. His face is smooth and his demeanor blank. When he is not washing his hands and healing the sick, he wears a clean gray breastplate and helm over a black tunic and his signature white with black blotch cloak and hood. He chooses to wear a black scarf across his nose and mouth so that he does not frighten those who do not know him. In battle, Vaestrin wades into the fray with his spotless gray morningstar and black and white shield.

Cleric 5
Battle Cleric, frontline support/control/debuff
Domains: Healing and Madness
Str 20
Dex 16
Con 16
Int 15
Wis 18
Cha 14
Channel negative energy (burst damage), Spontaneous casting of harm spells (rather than healing spells)
Feats: Toughness, Power Attack, Extend Spell, Selective Channeling
Skills: Intimidate, Sense Motive, Spellcraft

Cal Mason was born to the great Queen Talia Mason of Bryce, a well-known and well-loved ruler of the land of Sindeyll. Her king, King Bryce, was a rather unkind man, however, and even the queen herself didn't truly love him. After Cal was born, it was obvious to Bryce that he was not the father, as Bryce was a very dark-skinned man and Talia was fairly tan in color, while this child was as pale as an elephant's ivory tusk. Bryce, knowing that Talia had been unfaithful to him, locked her in his dungeons for her to die slowly, while he raised Cal as his own son.

Bryce learned of Cal's inhuman traits when a 6-year-old Cal had injured his knee while playing. Bryce had his high cleric perform a basic healing ability on Cal, but the spell pained the child almost to death. The cleric, out of desperation, tried using negative energy in the same way, and this negative energy brought Cal back into consciousness with a healed knee. After examining Cal's body, the cleric and Bryce determined Cal was the son of a vampire that had at some point been with Talia.

Cal was raised in a time of war between Sindeyll and the nearby country of Acerol. Bryce decided to use Cal as a spy, having him be trained in the ninja arts (which was only aided by Cal's ability to see in the dark). Cal studied for years and spied during the war, eventually causing Acerol to fall when he stole the military plans. Cal was praised for his accomplishment, and was given a reward: a masterwork sword with a pure white blade, made especially for Cal by the best blacksmith in the city.

After many years, Cal realized he was not aging as fast as the other humans, and that he would soon be discovered and become an outcast. Determined to not let that happen, once Bryce died of old age, Cal left Bryce's young son William to be king while Cal left the country to live on his own. For several decades, Cal adventured on his own, helping people that needed help, or punishing those who went against his moral code.

A 116 year old Cal, who still looked like a 20 year old human, had grown very tired of this lonely lifestyle, until a man one day came to him and told him of a far-off plane of existence where he would not be an outcast. After decades of being alone, this was magic to Cal's ears, and he very eagerly accepted the offer, with wonder at what this new world might be like.

Cal is 5'8" tall, and about 135 lbs. He is slender, but there is a defined musculature to his body. His skin is very pale, almost ghostly sometimes, but he is very beautiful for a human. He has dark, almost black, hair, cut short to not impair his vision or movement, and piercing green eyes.

Cal is a very morally centered person. He does not let others' beliefs get in the way of his own; however, he will never tell someone they are wrong for believing a certain way, unless their beliefs directly cause harm to others. Cal's greatest belief is that every person in the world deserves to live in their own way, so long as their way of living does not impede the way anyone else chooses to live. Cal loves to help people when they need him, but he is repulsed by people who are simply too lazy to do something for themselves. When he sees someone harming another, he very quickly comes to the aid of the person being harmed.

Cal has often times come to the side of a devil or other evil creature when a Paladin is trying to destroy them simply "because it is evil". He has no judgement of "good" or "evil" by definition; as long as a person allows others to live to their own potential, they are "good" to Cal, and vice-versa.

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Abandoned on the streets at such a young age that she has no memory of her parents, all Yaani had to guide her during those formative years was the call of her blood which always seemed to lead her to safety when needed, till she grew up enough to take care of herself. She spent much of her youth running with the street rats that littered the districts of the great city she lived in, taking what she could, fighting with rival gangs, doing oddjobs here and there for the tanners, brothels, and smiths, and getting in trouble with the law, till eventually at the age of 11 she caught the eye of an aged blacksmith who had lost a leg during the war, and was basically hired as a live in servant to fetch and carry for him, while he worked the forge.

During those long years under the smith, she learnt much. Just by observation at first, since the old man wasn't one for conversation, and he didn't like kids much, especially obviously tainted little girls like her, but she grew on him in time, and he clearly needed her as much as she needed him, and they eventually settled into an amicable relationship where he occasionally taught her things about the craft, and she was his servant much of the days. He even set aside a small fund for her to go to one of the church ran schools twice a week in the mornings, so she could learn to read and write, something she picked up easily, learning a number of languages fluently at an astonishing rate, quickly out pacing her peers, even the richer, more finely educated ones.

Which was something that got her into some quite deep trouble in the end, but that is another story. One that ends up causing near city wide chaos, and a rather large number of fires.

The young demonic half-breed also found that she somehow knew another language that she had never been taught, one that she had been hearing her entire life for as long as she could remember, guiding her at opportune times out of trouble, or how to turn things to her advantage. When she was 17 years old, the old smith passed away, and the Forge went to his grandchildren, who were swift to get rid of her, not wanting such a 'freak' anywhere near them. She had a fair amount of money saved up however from her time as an apprentice and servant to the smith, but knew it wasn't anywhere near enough for what she had planned for her future.

So, with that in mind, she spent what spare money she had left over to outfit herself with a battered old gun that she worked on for many a night while serving drinks during the day to help ends meet, till she finally had a weapon that she felt comfortable with, and then she left the city, returning often throughout the next few years, going on adventures of increasing danger and renown, quickly becoming known as both a savior, and a troublemaker, depending who you asked, though no matter what situation she was in, the wiley young tiefling always managed to come out on top.

At the age of 23, she had finally saved enough money to reach her goal, and applied to the 'Engineering and Allied Trades' College, getting in despite not having the qualifications or knowing the right people, due to stunning everyone who protested with a big bag of money. She spent a year there, working hard and learning all she could, exploring the different sciences, from alchemy to zoology, but she mainly focused on armorsmithing, particularly involving guns, something she had grown quite fond of during her years as an adventurer.

When the war once again returned to the great city, something she had no real desire to be caught up in, she swiftly moved on, even before she could complete her college course, though what with the trebuchet fire raining down over the city walls, she doubted anyone was going to stick around for their degree.

Still, after a rather harrowing series of circumstances which involved things sneaking around, quick talking, seducing a few of the right people, killing a dozens more, and looting a whole armful of valuable magical items, only a half dozen of which the young woman managed to keep, she found herself in an entirely new plane off reality, where a new life, a new society was forming.

This was somewhere she felt she could safely leave her mark, and bend it to her benefit.