As a mortal, Phostan stepped out from amongst the masses to serve as a battle cleric for the Knights, at a time when their ranks had been decimated and the forces of Legion kept a firm grasp over the lands. As a squire of Yilhet, he was marked as being of strong moral character and unwavering resolve. He would eventually shake Serin loose from the grasp of Legion, systematically destroying them when possible and denying them of their goals when not. As Executor, he wielded the mighty Shadowbane, which for him took the form of a blazing mace and purged the realms for many years. As with anything of living flesh and blood, time took its toll and Phostan burned out bright, purging as he went. Thousands upon thousands of years passed, and his soul was at peace amongst the halls of his people, in a never-ending celebration amongst the halls of the honored dead, when a faint luminous light appeared before him. Curious, he paused his feasting and followed it far away from the realm of his people's souls, and to the home of the gods. There, at the Anvil of Souls, the fading shell of a god with a kindred spirit lay fading, done with the pain and suffering it had witnessed through its existence. Ready to pass on its inherent powers to one worthy. And while a true Dwarf will never pass up a good feast, his rest had been long and comforting, and his soul was flooded with the warmth and love of his people. So he decided he was ready to take the burden of godhood upon himself so he could watch over his distant descendants and the good folk of Serin until he too, was spent. Newly elevated as a deity, Phostan has placed his shrine discreetly in the warm embrace of the earth, under the ruins of a once great city.