Name: Kindrath
Age: 47
Gender: Male
Religion/Class: Caritasim
Appearance: Kindrath stands to the height of an average six foot with a medium build. His stature is not one to balk at, but he is a solid man who's years of service to Caritasim have set him at complete ease and precision within his own physical existence. He eats as was intended, sleeps as is necessary, and is whole both in body and in mind. Although "over-the-hill" his strict regiment of diet and exercise have allowed him to suffer his years with ease. He keeps a tightly cropped hair cut of black with only traces of grey and keeps a clean shaven face. 

He is often seen wearing light blue flowing robes when not in his traditional travel and adventuring get-up consisting of tan padded leathers. 

Personality: A compassionate stoic, one could accurately accuse him of bring absent a personality at all. He understands the struggles of all and has an uncanny ability of placing himself in other's shoes as well as help others to see things a different light. 

Travelling companions, colleagues, and friends have described Kindrath as an anchoring source within their groups of association. He is inherently a peace maker and solid individual whom any and all can count on. He is always predictable. 

History: Kindrath is guards his history and has revealed such to no one, although there have been rumors. 

He was born into a conclave of the most nefarious and demented sect of Obitsum to parents who had little use for a child. He was treated poorly, and entered the training of as a dealer of death early in his childhood. Yet, there was something awry with the fellow. He was bullied, abused, and bested by his fellows at every turn and every point in training. He brought great shame to his parents and they made no attempts to hide this from him. 

He was a sad child, often heard crying within his sleeping pallet at night. It was obvious to anyone that the life of serving Death was not his intended purpose, but there was no outlet for the young boy. 

Eventually things came to a head as a pre-teen when it was time for him to draw his first blood. He was not looking forward to, but he went on with the thought and determining motivation that a good performance would put him into the good graces of his parents. The young assassins were dispatched to a small village with the directive to kill. Anything and everything. Kindrath subjected himself to the ridicule of his partners and they slunk into the sleepy village in the dead of night. 

Kindrath killed. Blind rage emboldened him and his sight turned to red as he entered village hobble after hobble indiscriminately eviscerated every sleeping form he came across. For a brief moment, but what seemed like an eternity, the servants of Death did what they were bred and trained to do without hesitation and without resistance. But resistance did come... Eventually. 

The village they had happened upon belonged to followers of Caritasim, and though docile in nature they were not ones to allow for such indiscriminate slaughter of their people. Up to this point, the death dealers had slaughtered old men, women, and children in their sleep. But now they had caused alarm, and the priests and paladin of the Caritasim order had come to stop the madness. 

Kindrath dispatched the life of a sleeping toddler with less vigor than had surrounded him in the beginning. The gurgling and final exhalation of breath tinged at his heart but he shuffled forth from the dwelling and into the street fighting back and suppressing his emotions as had been instructed of him. As he entered the street, he suddenly felt as though a thousand pounds of pressure was attacking his head from all directions. Screams escaped his throat and joined the chorus of his fellows as they all fell to their knees in agony. 

"This is enough." The words slammed into his consciousness with brute force, retreating momentarily, and then renewing their explosive pressure into his mind like violent waves. A tall, slender man of Elder age sat atop a dark horse adorned in ceremonial robes of light blue with a flowing white beard faced the assassin children with a penetrative gaze, flocked by several staff wielding men of varying ages similarly dressed. 

Suddenly a small group of children flanked thr group, plunging poison riddled daggers into the backs of soft robbed men. The man with the penetrative gaze turned, directing himself and the magic he wielded at the flanking assassins. They stopped in their tracks. 

That night was the most pivotal moment in Kindrath's life. The followers of Caritasim kept the child assassins in tow and corralled them into a group. They drug the mutilated bodies of their families into the street, displaying the carnage while the children laughed hysterically. Kindrath did not. He vomited at the sight of his handiwork and broke down into uncontrollable weeping. 

This saved his life. The man with the penetrative gaze and Awe inspiring power took him aside and made him his apprentice. Kindrath had found his place, and learned all he could of Caritasim and served with his life. 

Other Information: Born and trained an assassin, when in a pinch and forced to fight he can be quite deadly and tricky with his staff. However, he rarely fights, and always seeks a way of retreat when conflict cannot be rectified in other fashions of peace. This is his weakness, his compassion, and slowness to act. 

Kindrath is a magic wielder who is proficient at healing. He has had extensive training and experience with ailments of the mind, and subsequently can do harm to the mind as well. 

Such magic is high intensive and requires extreme concentration, thus when using magic he is quite vulnerable.