Mihr the Stoic Cleric.

Brought to the world as a bastard of a Seringale barmaid and a wandering bard, Mihr grew up roaming free with no supervision. As a child, he often spent his days in the forests, returning only when night has fallen. At night, he would sit in the tavern and listen to the stories of the travellers. He yearned for adventure, and aspired to be a man of legends. One that the bards would tell great tales of. His mother disagreed, and only wished for the boy to grow up in the safety of Seringale's walls. She would spurn his attempts at learning from Thrad the trainer, and burdened him with menial tasks whenever she caught the boy. One day, Mihr ventured further than he had before. As the woods grew thicker around him, the light gave way to darkness. Out of the gloom, yellow beady eyes stared back at him. Hugging himself frightfully, little Mihr attempted to exit the cursed woods. As he turned towards the light, the creatures of the dark leapt at the boy, pinning him to the ground. Mihr yelled and kicked, but his small body could not shrug off his attackers. They rended his limbs, and slit open his torso. Broken and bloodied, Mihr stopped struggling. He stared deep into the creatures eyes, wondering what life awaits after death. Suddenly, a pillar of flame descended from the skies! The creatures yelped in pain, immediately scampering off back into the hidden reccesses of the dark woods. An old man hobbled over to Mihr, nodded at the boy, and scooped him up with surprising vigor. He carried the boy to a nearby farm, and prayed over his wounds. Although his wounds would keep him in bed for days, Mihr's life was saved by the old man. Thankful for his life, Mihr repeatedly attempted to engage the old man in conversation. But the old man never spoke at word, simply nodding and shaking his head in response. After two days of continuous tending, the old man decided Mihr's condition no longer required his attention. As he stood up to leave, Mihr tried one last time to get the man's name. The old man simply shook his head. Disappointed, Mihr cried into his hands, afraid that he would never be given the chance to repay his debt. Feeling the prod of the old man's stick, Mihr looked up. The old man pointed to the earth and finally spoke, "repay." And with that, he left. A few days later, Mihr returned home. His mother fawned over him, noting that he was lucky to have survived. The boy looked up at his mother. His features were as cheerful and light hearted as ever, but he didn't smile, and he didn't speak. He simply nodded.