@Device(PostScript)
@Make(Report)
@Style(Spacing 1.5, Leftmargin 0.75 inch, Rightmargin 0.75 inch,
       SingleSided, Font = TimesRoman, Size 10)

@comment(Set these values appropriately for each character profile)

@string(name="Learanearrian Ephraim ")
@string(realname="Learanearrian Ephraim ")
@string(playername="Player Name")
@string(id="891773")

@include (/mit/abstract/Characters/Sheets/cover.mss)

@MajorHeading(@value(realname))

Why?  Why, by all the denizens of the Universe, does it always fall to
@i(you) to be her champion, to be her fighter?  You, a man who has
lived for over five centuries in the light of Tualoha, who has time
and again sought and failed her Way, who has at last become resigned
to being but a man--why can you find no peace?

You can still remember when you first donned the white robes of the
Order of the Creator, and devoted yourself to her service.  You
remember your eventual elevation through the ranks of the Church, and
finally your ascension to the position of High priest of the White, of
the Church of the Trinity.  Back then, it seemed a great and holy
mission, to bring the word and the Way of the Goddess to your fellow
men, to bring succor and peace to those who sought her Way.

Aye, and you remember well what came of that holy mission, too.  You
remember the arguments, the battles within the Church that would
doubtless have escalated into combat had not a spell of sanctuary been
imposed there.  You recall the schisms that developed, particularly
between you and the Dark Priest, and the territorial power plays that
resulted.  All this you recall, despite the mist of years that blurs
your recollections.  As well you should, for it was your doing.

At first you worked with the other High Priests, each holding your
section of the Realm and collecting tribute from it, each with your
own band of followers and worshippers.  But there came the day, five
hundred years ago, that the glory and the power of the Goddess Tualoha
suddenly began to burn in you, a holy fire that demanded release.
Somehow, the strength of your Goddess had been doubled upon the World,
and you soon came to realize that the power of her Opposite, the
destroyer Chthon, had been greatly reduced.  You saw in this the
chance, at last, to seize ascendancy for the forces of Creation by
weakening and dispersing the tokens and the followers of Darkness. 

You failed to reckon with the power of your adversary, however.  The
battle took years to fight, and as it progressed each of you drew more
and more heavily on the lands you owned and represented.  When at last
the battle was approaching its conclusion, and you were prepared to
wipe away the power of the followers of Chthon, another player entered
the game.

You well remember the moment the Godstalker arrived.  The moment you saw
him, you knew him to be no ordinary mortal; after all, no mortal would dare
even to stand, let alone walk, on a battlefield reserved for the forces of
Creation and Destruction, and yet there was one man who did so -- a man
dressed in armor and accoutred in mockeries of the garments of a priest.  A
man who walked calmly and unhurriedly amidst the seraphim and demons you
and your dark counterpart had conjured to do battle, untouched by either; a
man who strode purposefully through the barriers that Conger the Green had
erected to protect the common folk from the clash of light and darkness.

Both you and your opposite held back your powers, inspecting this
mysterious new arrival.  His garb spoke volumes: he wore the robes and
phylacteries of a High Priest, but they were fashioned from some
transparent material rather than the white, black and green of the three
Churches.  In one hand he held a staff, engraved with strange symbols; in
the other he held a crystal orb from which a palpable, almost physical
force emerged.

Inside the green dome Conger had conjured, there was an unearthly stillness
as the stranger reached the center of your battlefield and sat,
crosslegged, on the ground.  The orb he carried floated above his head, and
with his staff he began to trace symbols upon the ground.  Still, you
waited, trying to fathom this new mystery, but the Dark grew impatient in
his evil and his bloodlust.  From the far side of the dome, you could see a
black cloud writhe and twist, and from its depths appeared a foul and
loathsome beast, a true denizen of the nether depths.  Following the
commands of its conjurer, this demon flew to attack the stranger, only to
have its flight arrested by an invisible, impenetrable wall of force.

It was then that you realized what power this stranger wielded.  Not
Creation's pure light, nor yet the darkness of Chthon, and not the
green of their daughter Gaea that protected and healed, but rather the
clear magic of Gaea's servant Nairaphi, whose power had been forbidden
in the United Lands since the very creation of the Church of the Trinity!
With the eyes of your soul, you saw the orb was a touchstone to Nairaphi's
power, the staff a focus for it, and the man himself a channel for it,
wielding power equal to, if not superior to, your own.  

Finishing his scribed circle, the heretic spoke.  

"Hear me, priests of light and darkness!  I am Godstalker!

"Too long has your war gone on!  Too long have your struggles caused the
...

@comment(bleah)

****

There came a time, at last, when you could no longer stand back and
offer shelter and succor.  A time when you could no longer allow
others to do your fighting, when you could no longer obey your
Goddess' wishes.  It was then that Ephraim the High Priest became
Ephraim the warrior.  Handing over your amulet to the Priest of the
Green, you donned your armor and your sword and went out to fight
alongside your Palladine, expecting to die in defense of the Church.

Somehow, miraculously, you survived.  Not unscarred, but certainly not
dead.  What became of the Dark Priest, you don't know, but you saw the
Priest of the Green fall in combat with the Godstalker, skewered.  The
rest of the Church's acolytes were killed or went underground, as you
did, and it spelled the end of the priesthood upon the Realm.

You remember little of the decades that followed, save roaming from
place to place, never settling, living by your wits and your sword,
and knowing always that the Goddess whose ways you had eschewed, whose
teachings you had betrayed, was without a priest; knowing always the
great trust and responsibility you had given up.  During those dim,
dark days your life lost meaning, you lost hope, you lost purpose.
And yet, you did not die.  You often wondered about that, clearly the
Goddess' final gift to the Priest who had left the True Path...why?
Was it a sign of forgiveness?  What use forgiveness to a man plagued
by his own guilt?  Or was it, perhaps, a punishment, the sort of
punishment only a Creator would devise?  

You don't know what would have become of your life had you not met the
Horsemen.  At the time, they were the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse,
a band of reknowned adventurers, and together with them you had many
great adventures, and began once again to accept your worth as a
fighter and as a priest of Tualoha.  You began to see yourself as a
true Palladin, a true servant of the Goddess, and to draw once again
on her power.

Vanity, vanity, all is vanity!  Some years passed, and you were
comfortable then in your role as Holy Warrior.  It was then that the
Goddess withdrew her face from you, from all mankind; then came the
Darktime.  Your return to her fold had not been enough to prevent it,
she remained unhearing, unresponsive, mute to your pleas for decades.
Once again, you had lost your way, and were but a man.  

And @i(still) you did not age!  @i(Still) you were alive!
Purposeless, stripped of the powers you had once eschewed, given an
immortality, or at least an agelessness, you had neither requested nor
desired, you lived on in the world of men for thirty years.  You were
a Rose Warrior, until that august band of knights was disbanded in
shame -- another slight on your record, one in a series.  Still, you
were not involved in Soth's treason to the Realm during the Sceptre
Uprising, or in Benjamin's trial for treason and his self-exile.  You
were, and are, an anthropologist and historian, for your knowledge of
the ways of man and history is extensive.  You have travelled many
paths, but all paths that men travel in the ways of man.

Until now.  Until you received the call, in a divine voice you had not
heard since your days as a Holy Warrior:  @b(COME.  HELP.  BIND.)
Until you arrived at the Castle, where the power of the Goddess is
palpable and alive.  

You do not fully understand, but somehow you know that your destiny is
here, that the reasons for much of your life are tied up with the
events of the next half-moon.  Now, perhaps, is your chance to redeem
yourself before the Goddess.  The signs are here:  also on the Castle
is Nehemiah Dervish, a Palladin from the days of the Church.  You
don't understand what he is doing here, but if the Goddess could keep
you in reserve to strengthen her Way, could she not do the same for
him?  

It is interesting to note that Dervish's son, Abra'm, was one of your
fellow Horsemen, and is also here on the Castle.  Indeed, many of the
Horsemen are here, and Abra'm seeks a reunion...you wonder if he has
yet noticed the similarity in name?  Abra'm never knew his father, and
you never told him, since it would require explaining how you knew.
But in any case, the Warriors are here, the Horsemen are here, and a
Palladin of Tualoha is here.  And you are here.  You begin to
understand, finally, that your destiny is and always was to be
Tualoha's priest -- not fighter, not soldier, but priest.  And priest
is what you shall become again.

It is not often that a man is given the chance to regain a destiny
once lost.  You have that chance, and you will not allow it to be
lost.  You will take on the mantle of priesthood, discover the foul
creatures responsible for the binding of your Goddess, and raise a
holy army to defeat them, as the light will always triumph over the
darkness.  You shall lead that army to its inevitable victory.  That
is your destiny, one you will not lose again.  And while you and the
Warriors are here, perhaps it is time to clear your honor by
discovering the truth behind Benjamin, and behind the Oathbreaker
Soth.  On a practical note, if nothing else, the discovery of a major
deviation in commonly accepted history might be enough to win the
fellowship Kalere'ge is offering.

The Goddess smiles upon you.

@newpage

@section(Items and Abilities)

You begin the game with the following items:

@begin(itemize)

A set of plate mail

A sword

An intricately carved silver rose

"A History of the Realm" by Learanearrian Ephraim

"The Rose Warriors:  Traitors or Victims?" by Learanearrian Ephraim

Several reams of paper

Two quills

An inkstone

A small, multicolored paperweight you picked up at a curio shop years
ago.

@end(itemize)

You have the following abilities:

@begin(itemize)

Priest of Tualoha

Weapon Skill - Sword 4

Experienced Adventurer

Anthropological Knowledge 2

Speak Anthropological Jargon

Speak Theological Jargon

Detect Lie

@end(itemize)

@section(Spells)

@include(/mit/abstract/Lore/Magic/Spells/comprehend_language.major.mss)
@include(/mit/abstract/Lore/Magic/Spells/detect_curse.minor.mss)
@include(/mit/abstract/Lore/Magic/Spells/detect_curse.major.mss)
@include(/mit/abstract/Lore/Magic/Spells/healing.major.mss)
@include(/mit/abstract/Lore/Magic/Spells/lifekeeping.minor.mss)

@newpage

@include(/mit/abstract/Guides/lore.creation.mss)
@include(/mit/abstract/Guides/lore.tualoha.mss)
@include(/mit/abstract/Guides/lore.m'kraan.mss)
@include(/mit/abstract/Guides/guide.realm.mss)
@include(/mit/abstract/Guides/guide.clans.mss)
@include(/mit/abstract/Guides/guide.magic.mss)

@section(Organizations)

@include(/mit/abstract/Organizations/horsemen.mss)
@include(/mit/abstract/Organizations/college.work.mss)