Zombillion

Religion has never held a permanent residence in my life, though it has been suggested and forced heavily onto me numerous times. The leading cause to these swaying emotions can be followed back to my younger years, the time when I was enlisted into The Church of Canon. Those years weren’t long lasting, for I was reknowed for being incredibly rebellious. I enacted practical jokes constantly, much to the aggravation of my elders. Finally, one dark night. I was stolen from my bed and cast out from my laden town. Depressed, I wandered from town to town for many years. Mostly upon deaths door. But eventually I picked up a unique skill in swordplay from a few of the neighboring towns such as As is preferred for a highlander to be well equipped in combat training. In the years of absence from Renatus, I was assumed dead by the majority of people. Thought of as a wretch who was rightfully discarded. Unfortunately, rumors have emerged of my survival and an ever growing bounty was placed on my head in recent years. Alas, I shall never return to Renatus. That surely would be my death.