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Summary of History

Born to a couple of country peasants in a little town called Greywicke, Esther was a miracle child to say the least. The couple had been trying for a decade with no success and when they had brought their little baby into the world, all was well. For the most part at least, the first few years were flawless- she had loving supportive parents, devout to their local church and faithful to the community. It really couldn't have been better, and then that's when her health began to decline at five years old.

Growing increasingly sick, there was a time where they thought she was going to pass in the night, but the constant prayers and trips to visit the church and the priestesses there seemed to buy the little child some more time. Esther over the course of the summer was able to make a nearly complete recovery. The illness that followed her wouldn't resurface until two years later, where it came on slower but struck with a vengeance. It took her leg in the process- leaving her affected permanently. The missing leg only seemed to aggrivate the illness more- but it never crushed her spirits. She always asked her father or mother to read her the books they had bought for her. She would get better. She got better once before, she'd do it again, she was certain.

Esther's parents weren't prepared to care for a child like her. They didn't have the resources, or time, when they were laboring day in and day out to ensure they had food on the table at the end of the day there was no time to devote to a child who had needs more than they could care for. It was a hard decsision, they hadn't enought money to hire a doctor to come all the way out, and the priestesses could only do so much.

Eventually, Esther's condition deteriorated. So quickly that it was going to take a miracle to save her- Her mother couldn't bear to be around her ailing and isolated child. Word eventually reached her brother, who worked with the church more intimately as a cleric and he offered to bring her in. Donnovan, her uncle by blood and in faith brought her to the Monastery he worked for and saw to it that they put everything they could do to help. From prayer to ritual, he would try it all. There had to be a cure somewhere.

Eventually something switched just right, and she began to make her recovery for a second time.

This pattern of intense illness to several years of recovery continued into her adolesence and well into adulthood. It made it extremely difficult when she was studying to be a priestess, as an Acolyte it required twelve compounding years of study that she just couldn't maintain. Not when she was bedridden and hardly lucid for months at a time. But, she perservered. She studied in every way she could, read every moment she could manage and practiced everything preached to her.

It wasn't until she was twenty three that the first glimmer of true hope showed up. It came as a freshly anointed cleric, clad in brilliant iron armor- he was kind and respectable... And quite frankly a bit odd. But, the letter that came with him signed by her uncle, Donnovan, was a testament to how good this man must've been. Being from a church in the sticks, clerics don't come by often, so to say that she was starstruck would've been an understatement.

Now at twenty eight, she's four years overdue for her assessment. It's all she's ever wanted... Well that's not true, but it's important to her. She's happy now that she's been able to keep on her feet for several years, but a lingering feeling shadows her- a fear that the next time could be the last. There's just so much more that she wants to do. Jojo had done well to keep the village bunkered down, protected when it needed to be, and every day she counts her blessings from top to bottom.

One day at a time. She promises herself- but every day is another day closer to fulfilling something new on her bucket list.