On Blackened Wings
Father Barth Griswold probably never should have been a preacher. He’d have been much better suited as a smith or even a knight, but frankly, he’s too fond of the more comfortable things in life.
He was lucky enough to be accepted into the Meister’s Academy, and was a diligent student particularly in the areas of religious studies and chemistry, but by the time he learned how to brew spirits, his future was pretty much sealed.
He returned to his home town of Ironpoint and settled in as the High Priest right hand man. He handles the sermons and the rites and keeping people informed of how their decisions are seen in the light of their faith. Father Griswold does everything else. The High Priest has said many a time that s\he isn’t sure what he’d do without Grisworld to keep track of all the maintenance for him. He’s terrible at keeping organized, but once he’s given a task she never has to worry.
Good food and good drink and nights spent laughing around the hearth have thickened Father Griswold’s middle but never dulled his mind. Today he’s known as the man to come to when you have a problem. Doesn’t matter if it’s a broken cabinet or a broken heart, chances are the good Father can help.
Everything he does, he does with his whole heart. He works hard, sleeps harder, drinks too much, reads voraciously, laughs loud and bellows when he’s angry. In his town he brews the drinks, delivers the babies, patches the wounds, digs the graves, fixes the homes, and when he needs to he fights like the Warrior himself has possessed him.
It’s an understatement to say that he knows everyone. He’s pushing fifty years old. Many of the people in town he helped birth. They’ve known him from their first breath. They trust him and he loves them all.
Anything that tries to harm his town is going to be in for a hell of a fight.