Rise of The Thorn Breakers!
Born to the poor entertainer Geir and the habitually absent druid Anuhea, Brandr was the 7th of 11 children. By the time he had come into the world his elder siblings had all gone off to make their fortune merchants, warriors and scholars. But Brandr was not so gifted, he was not so very smart or skilled though he was perhaps a little wiser than most. So it was he found himself relaxing in the field after a hard days work when the sky dimmed, a strange light filled the sky as a star fell and split the heavens in two and in its burning light he witnessed a great truth. Violence is inescapable, To live is an act of violence, cutting the shape of self into reality. The words rang in his head with the power of some great universal calling and so he set off the next day, with nothing but travelling supplies and a sickle, for he had no sword but he reasoned it would do well enough. It was eighteen days on the road before he was set upon by a group of brigands, thinking him an easy mark, a lone wanderer with nothing but a farming tool by his side. Though as their blades fell upon him he struck forth with a blazing will born from the spark of divinity that his vision had stoked within him and he struck them down as their blades were turned from his flesh. It was in much this fashion that he made his way across the land fending off bandits and surviving off whatever he could find in the wilds or work for in the villages he passed. It was almost a year later that he came upon the city of Elthogor under siege by a hoard of kobolds sent by Dr.Evil and knowing where his path lay he set forth to join the fight. It was at the end of this siege that he gained his first look into what awaited him upon death, as he was struck down by a fleeing kobolds arrow he faded into death. On the other side he was not greeted with anything resembling the tales he had heard of in his life, no divine judges no halls of gods, no brimstone and torture, or any guiding spirits. He was greeted by a great void, an emptiness a view of what lay beyond existence and all he could feel was himself, a burning white flame eager to consume the void, spreading infinitely across it an equally endless nothingness. Then suddenly he was back, awoken on the field, beside him stood a woman, in her hands a curved dagger made of a strange metal that seemed to flicker even when still. As she recovered from her shock and he took in his surroundings once more she informed him her name was Monica, a fellow traveler who had also helped in the towns defense. Afterwards in the local tavern as the townsfolk hailed them both as heroes they discussed the strange occurrence of his resurrection. Apparently soon after the battle ended Monica had come under a compulsion to find him and carve her name into him with the strange dagger she possessed. All she knew of it was that it had apparently been crafted from a fallen star by the local blacksmith, though she had initially doubted the story since he had sold it for a surprisingly low price recent events had her second guessing that. After some discussion and much needed rest they traveled together to metropolis, her to seek a life of adventure and him to seek answers to what he had seen in his death. Once in the city they soon parted ways and Brindar found his way to the temples arrayed around the city and sought answers through study and prayer. In the end though his search was fruitless, he found no records of any event like his in the records and no matter how long he prayed or meditated the gods gave him no answers. So in the end he decided his path did not lie seeking answers from any divinity, he would carve his own path with the divine flames he had felt burning within.