Taram Rhitara-Kaezen

A nobleman and bishop of Shar played by Bwh in the Hands of Westgate campaign. He ceased to exist in 1376 Dr, although his story did not end there ...

Description
Kaezen was of an average height and unassuming build. His brown eyes are very Turmic in appearance; however, he shaved regularly, to avoid confusion (and providing a recognizeable feature for passersby). He wore plain, though costly, clothing purchased through discreet channels; anyone to regard him would see a minor nobleman.

Personality
For the most part, Kaezen was a quiet and darkly charming individual with a soft, soothing voice and an easy-going manner. This was an efficient facade to hide a soul who cared about nothing and no one. Having lost everything, Kaezen was now free to do anything. Those who thwarted him felt swift and terrible vengeance, if possible -- or slow and painful vengeance, if necessary.

Growing Up
Taram-Rhitara Kaezen was born 20 Kythorn 1348, during the summer solstice of that year. Taram’s parents (an adventuress of Westgate and a Turmish merchant) had settled in the city to raise numerous children. The first child was a calm little boy with the angular features of his mother and the tanned coloration of his father.

Taram always admired his father’s intellect and skill with words. He was quite devastated (even moreso than his five younger siblings) when his father was stabbed to death in a disagreement over merchant prices. (The stabber was later caught and hanged; Taram nurses the pain inside of him to this day.)

Taram had none of the adventuring impulses of his mother. While he showed an impressive skill with the chakram (the only one of his mother’s weapons which interested him), he also developed a calm and level mind better suited to trades and craft. Although he tried his hand at several crafts, including bookbinding, it was ultimately the call of mercantilism which lured him in. However, he realized he would have no need to travel, were he a factor of a more prominent businessman – and thus took a more theoretical approach to the merchant road, figuring numbers and occasionally laundering money.

He met a young adventuress by the name of Alura Ravenwind at a Trial at Arms competition in Westgate. While Taram didn’t have a lot of skill with basic weapons, his skill with a chakram (favored by his mother) was impressive in comparison to the other common folk. The two continued to meet after the event was over (neither won, though she was the one who eliminated him). Things proceeded in a not-so-uncommon fashion until Taram proposed on the Summer Solstice of 1372, shortly after the Wandering Guardians returned from the Shadow Realm.

Six months later, on the evening before they were to be wed, Westgate was torn to pieces in a cataclysmic explosion which no one in the city can explain to this day. Taram himself was knocked unconscious and left buried under three stories of rubble, where he lay for days. Alura, his mother, and all but one of his siblings (his youngest brother, Tor-Lithrim Kaezen) were killed as buildings collapsed and the streets buckled inward and swallowed themselves.

The Church of Shar
Taram was rescued by Morfel, a kindly old man with twinkling blue eyes and a broad smile. He used divine power to move aside the rubble. Taram’s first though, though, was to find Alura. When he found the shrine which held her remains, he went mad with grief. (Life, it seemed, has a knack for taking things away just when he’s becoming happy.)

Morfel’s counsel eventually led Taram into the Temple of Shar, where he swore an oath to bind himself to the Lady of Loss. He rose quickly through the ranks under Morfel’s tutelage, throwing himself with bitter zeal into recruitment and torture. His mother’s chakram, all too appropriate a weapon now, was what he used to slice open his brother and end all his ties to the mortal world. In the meantime, Morfel took Taram into his own home and gave him a Ring to shield him from prying eyes. He was introduced to the noble houses around Westgate, and his star now seemed to be on the rise.

Eversult’s armies arrived not long thereafter and began to impose order upon the city. While this hasn’t impacted the business of the nobles, they’re all being very quiet about these matters. Three months before his incarceration, the Temple of Shar (hidden deep underground) was obliterated by forces led by Vaerana Hawklyn, one of the two foul lesbian bitches who rule Eversult. Morfel fell to Hawklyn’s blade. Taram-Rhitara, now going only by the name of Kaezen, swore an oath to Shar that not only would the Temple’s glory be restored, but he would see the bitch dead if it took every ounce of his strength.

The Hands of Westgate
He was imprisoned shortly thereafter, with three other miscreants: Schara, Evandur Jasson and Bishi. Set free by an opportunistic rogue, Kaezen saw an opportunity to use a fledgling rogue operation to ferret out the weasel inside his Church. However, Evandur's consistent bumbling repeatedly disrupted his plans, to the point where Kaezen's patience was spent and the two engaged in deadly battle.

While he didn't trust Schara, he knew she had the most sensible head on her shoulders, of the three; he brought her into his nobleman's network of spies and contacts.

Sensing danger was coming in the form of Evandur's misguided religious frenzies, he alerted the local Archon division as to the location of the base of the Hands of Westgate. He left the broken city behind and did not look back ... abandoning his quest to avenge Morfel.

Starmantle
While the ticket stub left behind on the ledger records indicated that he was headed for Cormyr, this was a ruse to throw Schara and his Church off the trail. He made port in the city of Starmantle and attempted to start his Church anew. He had little else he could do; Shar's instructions were explicit.

The servants of Shar are not tolerated in many places along the Sea of Fallen Stars, however, and there are always groups vying for territory. Confronted by pirates, Night Masks and paladins of varying orders, Kaezen's fledgling Church took refuge in the sewers once more. He would have abandoned the thought of rebuiling the Church, but Shar's stern warnings made it quite clear that another failure would not be tolerated.

Yet, the refuge proved of little use. In 1376 DR, agents of the Death Flames, a mysterious cult of Kossuth with ties to the Red Wizards headed by one Eric Frost, planted magical explosives in the Shrine to Shar. Two dozen acolytes and three lesser clerics were incinerated in the blast; Kaezen was left maimed and crippled, alive through cowardice alone (he hid behind the altar). When the Death Flames scoured the sewers for fleeing clerics, Kaezen remained hidden.

Disheartened and beaten, he made arrangements to flee the city on the first ship available. Wrapped from head to toe in anointed clothes and salves, he limped his way to the docks. He never saw the daggers coming. The shadowy assassins, under the command of Shar Herself, left him dead in the street, body mangled and soul broken.

Interlude
''He expected the eternal darkness of Shar's cruel embrace. Instead, his eyes fluttered open and were struck by intense sunlight. He was more than a little surprised. Then a blurry shadow drifted over him and spoke in a gentle voice:''

''"I saw what those men did to you ... I don't know who you are, but no one deserves that." The voice was ancient parchment; it warbled dustily as it regarded him.''

''"I did," he croaked. His voice sounded odd to his ears ... higher-pitched?''

"Indeed? Well, perhaps you have a second chance, now. Who do you serve?"

''Kaezen paused as he contemplated. "No one, at present. I think my contract was just terminated." His voices definitely *was* lighter, although undeniably male. The shadow also seemed huge to his eyes, like he were being questioned by an ogre.''

"I should say so. Perhaps, then, you're in a position to start anew."

"Not that new," Kaezen growled, "I'm still me."

''The ancient voice laughed. "No, you're not."''

''Kaezen sat up, then, and stared into a full-length mirror. Sitting on a dais, wrapped in special clothes and unguents which dripped unceremoniously, was a halfling. He touched his face ... and watched the halfling's arm move with the same precision.''

''The old man was a druid; Reincarnate was the spell. Kaezen -- or, rather, the hin formerly known as Kaezen -- was now someone else entirely. He had received a new lease on life.

But what to do with it?