For as long as he can remember Merecraft was an acolyte in the general clergy of the church of Toran, where he had been placed at an early age by parents who could not afford to raise a child themselves. For years he studied the holy books diligently, and if he harboured any ambitions beyond becomming a good servant of Toran they were not apparent to anyone. He worked hard, studying the written word, helping to transcribe the illuminated drawings and scriptures of the church, oblivious to what was going on in the greater world and not inquisitive enough to find out. It was a peaceful existence, one that filled his heart with light, and gave meaning to his soul. A normal, quiet life serving a greater cause. That was until the day everything changed for the young acolyte. He had been summoned by Father Merrick into the old priests private chambers. Father Merrick was the head of the particular temple at which Merecraft was based, and the rumour amongst the acolytes was that he had links to the Order of Undead Hunters, though Merecraft had always paid little heed to such idle gossip. The other acolytes barely noticed as Merecraft carefully packed away his scrolls, and rose from his desk, excusing himself from the chamber before heading out to the cloisters where Merrick's rooms were. None know what caused the events that were to follow, only what ruin the aftermath revealed, and Merecraft has spoken to no other about it since. Something happened during that meeting however that was to change the path of the young man's life forever. Whatever it was, it ended with Merecraft standing over the bruised and bloodied body of Father Merrick. The old priest was moaning softly from his broken jaw, his eyelids fluttering as he groaned in pain from the bruises. Merecraft stared down at the old man with hatred in his eyes and blood on his knuckles. Coming suddenly back to his senses as the intense rage passed, Merecraft did what any frightened young man in the same position would have done - he fled. Several days later the cleansing rains of Apreal found Merecraft huddled beneath the sheltering boughs of a large tree on the rain-sodden east road from Fort Llast. Merecraft was cold and hungry, and trying to come to terms with what he had learned in the offices of the priest. He kept staring down at his hands with abhorrent awe, still finding it hard to understand. Yet the rage had not left him, he still shook with it. The words of Father Merrick echoed in his ears still, fanning the flames of his hate. How could he have been so deceived all these years? He now knew the truth. The holy words of the temple were lies. The acolytes and were priests nothing better than common hucksters, spreading their venomous faith amongst the unsuspecting populace. With a snarl he clenched his fists and closed his eyes, and when he opened them he was a man without faith. What had filled his soul for all his years was gone, leaving behind a bitter anger and animosity for Toran and all his works. He looked up suddenly to see the wizened old fellow in yellow stained robes smiling down at him. The monk's name was Fearil. As they travelled together towards the markets of Hlint on the monk's cart, Fearil told Merecraft about his life. The stories of a quiet soul, of finding the balance within, and of the way the energy of anger could be channeled into something more useful touched a chord with Merecraft. He knew that unless he found some way of quelling the growing bitterness inside he would end up lost and broken. And so he resolved to learn what he could from Fearil, to begin the training that would help him to control his feelings, and maybe even to one day face the news he had been told by Merrick. So it was that Merecraft found himself in the town of Hlint, a new life and a new path before him. All he had to do was take that first fateful step. He knew it would not be easy, and that in the darkest moments his anger would resurface again. He knew the times ahead would be testing. He had lost his faith in the Gods, but thanks to the teaching of Fearil had found a new faith - one which centred on his own soul, his own mind, and finding a safe path through the turmoil within. He would train to become a monk.