The north ran deep in Kitiara for she possessed Uthgardt blood and as such was blessed with the long years of the northern barbarians. The fact that she was unrelenting and yielded no quarter to her enemies earned favoritism in the High Cleric’s eyes.
Halvor was royalty until the Arcane Brotherhood of the Hosttower usurped his domain; killed his line and cast him out. He is just Halvor now. No name, no family except for the church of Talos; because that’s what he was now, an instrument of destruction.
“I claim Mirabar in the name of the church, may it rekindle the glory it once held before the oppression of the treacherous Luskan. May the aspect of Talos be blessed upon me! Storm Lord, guide my blade true!”
Lightining flashed thrice as Balazar cut deep into Raurym’s flesh, opening ugly wounds that spilled warm entrails. The sky opened; a storm began; but did not bestow High Cleric Balazar with his heart’s desire- instead the miracle was imparted to another…