Species: Human
Age: Mid Twenties
Build: Unhealthily lean
Eyes: Brown
Hair: About a foot and a half long, Silvery white
Class: Rogue/Cleric
Deity: Desna
Origin: somewhere in Brevoy (He doesn't know)
Casham seems a man of two worlds. On one hand, he wears well kept clothing with brilliant embroidery and gilded edges. On the other, His hair is constantly tangled, apart from a distinctive tie to keep it out of his face. He has the smile of innocence, and the weary eyes of someone who has seen many man-made horrors. But above anything else, he seems approachable. He can almost always be seen sleeping within the lodge, or just outside it.
Despite his best efforts to remain elusive, rumors have spread about him. It's hard to stay under the radar with glowing hair and a cloak of stars.
Casham's skills tell of a past of artful crime. The kind that is both impressive and pathetic, like breaking into a bank vault to steal less than one-hundred silver. His Underweight build fills out this story with the malnourishment of a street rat, and not a particularly good one at that. It's a common story, involving lost and dead friends, awful environments, and a position to see the deranged, delusional, and despicable acts that humanity brings with them. A worthy mention of these throwing a petty thief into a crime they did not commit. Murder of someone with money. Who is a better scapegoat than the homeless teenager on the streetcorner. A life in the dark, apart from a small window.
The thief suffered in the cold winters of Brevoy without a fire, his hands black with frostbite and will eroded into nothing. However, even through the years, there was an eternal light through that small window. Sure, the day could be bright, but in darkness there was always something, and he felt it's strength. A sea filled with specks of light that shimmered on, despite the void that surrounded them. With nothing better to do in the cold darkness, he watched the stars at night and slept during the day, finding liberation not without walls, but in spite of them. Then, suddenly, the walls no longer held him, as that very same darkness surrounded him, glittering stars and all, and lifted him from his prison, past life, and past memories. He wandered out, covered in the veil of night, beginning a journey though tenants of faith and roads of mortals. In an induced dream state, he wandered, his waking moments spent meeting strange people and hearing their stories, and his others with cryptic divine messages. He was to be a preacher, reborn under the night sky. He decided that these messages were a task. Bring to others the gift he was given, the removal of walls.
Casham seeks out in Absalom to free not just those in physical cages, but those in prisons of the mind. Walls that people build up to protect themselves that, ultimately, make them suffer. He believes that, even after the horrors his dreams have shown to him about his past, that true goodness comes from a free soul, unbound from self-imposed limits, labels, and walls. Moreover, Casham sees that all evil stems from the very same. But fanaticism has a sharp edge, even when pursued for the best of ideals. Casham walks two worlds, questionless fanaticism, and an all-consuming darkness.
PC Theme: Is fanaticism for a good god really 'good', or can it be just as destructive, or maybe even more destructive, than other religious fervor
Age: Mid Twenties
Build: Unhealthily lean
Eyes: Brown
Hair: About a foot and a half long, Silvery white
Class: Rogue/Cleric
Deity: Desna
Origin: somewhere in Brevoy (He doesn't know)
Casham seems a man of two worlds. On one hand, he wears well kept clothing with brilliant embroidery and gilded edges. On the other, His hair is constantly tangled, apart from a distinctive tie to keep it out of his face. He has the smile of innocence, and the weary eyes of someone who has seen many man-made horrors. But above anything else, he seems approachable. He can almost always be seen sleeping within the lodge, or just outside it.
Despite his best efforts to remain elusive, rumors have spread about him. It's hard to stay under the radar with glowing hair and a cloak of stars.
Casham's skills tell of a past of artful crime. The kind that is both impressive and pathetic, like breaking into a bank vault to steal less than one-hundred silver. His Underweight build fills out this story with the malnourishment of a street rat, and not a particularly good one at that. It's a common story, involving lost and dead friends, awful environments, and a position to see the deranged, delusional, and despicable acts that humanity brings with them. A worthy mention of these throwing a petty thief into a crime they did not commit. Murder of someone with money. Who is a better scapegoat than the homeless teenager on the streetcorner. A life in the dark, apart from a small window.
The thief suffered in the cold winters of Brevoy without a fire, his hands black with frostbite and will eroded into nothing. However, even through the years, there was an eternal light through that small window. Sure, the day could be bright, but in darkness there was always something, and he felt it's strength. A sea filled with specks of light that shimmered on, despite the void that surrounded them. With nothing better to do in the cold darkness, he watched the stars at night and slept during the day, finding liberation not without walls, but in spite of them. Then, suddenly, the walls no longer held him, as that very same darkness surrounded him, glittering stars and all, and lifted him from his prison, past life, and past memories. He wandered out, covered in the veil of night, beginning a journey though tenants of faith and roads of mortals. In an induced dream state, he wandered, his waking moments spent meeting strange people and hearing their stories, and his others with cryptic divine messages. He was to be a preacher, reborn under the night sky. He decided that these messages were a task. Bring to others the gift he was given, the removal of walls.
Casham seeks out in Absalom to free not just those in physical cages, but those in prisons of the mind. Walls that people build up to protect themselves that, ultimately, make them suffer. He believes that, even after the horrors his dreams have shown to him about his past, that true goodness comes from a free soul, unbound from self-imposed limits, labels, and walls. Moreover, Casham sees that all evil stems from the very same. But fanaticism has a sharp edge, even when pursued for the best of ideals. Casham walks two worlds, questionless fanaticism, and an all-consuming darkness.
PC Theme: Is fanaticism for a good god really 'good', or can it be just as destructive, or maybe even more destructive, than other religious fervor
