Handil was born in a small town due south of the Orenian Capital. He was born to an elf father, named Belarat, and a human mother, named Ansel. He grew up as a farmhand with no siblings, and gained in interest in the ideas of urban life and cultures of other races. At the age of 16 he set off to learn of the world and found himself in the hands of a fringe cult, who believed in a way to coexist with The Undead. Instead of standing with his current ideals, he found new beliefs in the cult and quickly became a zealot. Handil travelled for many years, and grew close bonds with others who had fallen to the cult, but was eventually tricked and left for dead by those he deemed his friends. Instead of weakening his belief in his religion, this only strengthened it, as well as introducing a hate and distrust for others. He eventually found his way back into the Oren Empire, where he constantly travels, searching for either heretics, or those he sees fit for "salvation".
*Handil looks at the gentleman through the visor of his helmet.* He pauses. Then, starting in a low voice but growing louder, he says, "I have come to merely spread word of my Lord.." He places his hand on his sword, " By any way he deems fit..." He smiles at the gentleman as he begins walking towards a towering steeple in the distance.
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