Name: Batch

Race: Oread Ironsoul

Class: Cleric of Death

Alignment: Neutral

Occupation: Battlefield Surgeon

Opinions on party members: They are going to get themselves killed. Someone will need to lay them to rest.


Born in the Yamammy Mountains, Batch was an outsider amongst outsiders. Born hideously deformed, they were outcast among even family. No one knew what to make of them; they were tall, their skin was pink, and their hair soft like fur. There were no jagged outcroppings, no rust, no mineral deposits anywhere. The only trace on normality was in their eyes, which shone like mirrors.

Their mother and father thought they were some cruel joke, a test from the gods or perhaps some god even mixed up their childs' soul with another's soul, as their brothers and sisters had none of their qualities. When a caravan was passing through the mountains they found out that it must have been the truth - Batch was not a true Oread, but rather someone from the city of [need city name].

They found among the residents in the caravan strange elves with round ears. They did not have eyes like Batch did, but surely THESE were their people. And so a deal was struck. Batch was surrendered to their people, and they were most eager to have such an oddity. Mirrored eyes were not exactly something common amongst humans - no one had ever seen them before. Batch went for a very good price.

But Batch was not a human, and the blood of stone and metal ran strong in them even if it did not look like it from the outside. As all the other humans slaves aged and died, Batch persisted. Every other slave died. The friends they made. Their children. No matter what they did to try and keep them alive, they all died. Except for Batch. Perhaps they really were cursed? Their owner had them tend the sick and dying, perhaps so Batch would catch a sickness or maybe just take the hint and age. That didn't work. Batch just got better and better taking care of the sick and keeping them around longer and longer. This was kept up until eventually...their owner died too.

This death presented a bit of a conundrum for Batch. Although there were heirs, none of them really wanted Batch around. Cursed, they were. The last thing many slaves (and even some nobles) have seen was their own life draining away in those mirror eyes. No one wanted their last vision of life to be their own death.

And so, Batch was freed. Granted, being freed from slavery with no property and no means of support was not exactly a kindness. Everyone assumed they would go back to the Yamammy Mountains, but Batch was having none of that. "Return to the people who hated me and sold me more than a lifetime ago? I question the wisdom of one who would contemplate such an action."

So Batch did the only thing they were actually good at - providing comfort and aid to the sick and dying. This caught the attention of the temple of [need death god name] who wanted to know why this little one was not growing old and dying. They were, of course, doing just that. Just not at the pace that was to be expected.

Batch was brought into the temple and taught about death. And also taught about Death.

It was discovered that Oread Ironsouls live a long time. This was nothing new, of course. Oreads were not exactly unknown in [city name]. What WAS rare is that Batch was not only linked to the Plane of Earth, but also the Positive Energy Plane. For some reason, Batch was a planar conduit, and was a natural healer; it wasn't that they didn't get sick, they just fixed it really well. It wasn't that they didn't age, it is just that the damage was not as apparent - they would remain looking youthful until their dying day.

Thus the path became clear; the goddess of Death, [name]. The goddess of fates. The goddess of healing, of dying, and of journeys must have had something in store. It was clear now. They would spread the word. They just had to find the nearest place where there were those clinging to life, and passing to the other side. A hospital would not do - they needed a battlefield. And so it was off to war.


"Death is a beginning. The beginning of the longest phase of your existence, and therefore death is patient. After all, what are a few more years or even centuries compared to the sands of eternity? I will do everything in my power to stave off an early demise and help you reach the natural end of your life. That end might be now. Let us begin."

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