"The only light in this universe, is the light that shines from the God-Emperor. May the Imperium of Man last for all time!"
Name: Eli Castus
Homeworld: Novus (Imperial World)
Fate Points: 3
Weapon Skill: 31
Ballistic Skill: 33
Melee Weapon Training (Primitive)
Pistol Training (SP)
Basic Weapon Training (Primitive)
Common Lore (Imperial Creed) (Int)
Common Lore (Imperium) (Int)
Common Lore (War) (Int)
Speak Language (High Gothic) (Int)
Speak Language (Low Gothic) (Int)
Trade (Copyist) (Int)
Trade (Cook) (Int)
stub revolver and 6 bullets
Ecclesiarchy robes (Good Quality Clothing)
Fellowship Advance Simple (+5)
All your life you have known service to the God-Emperor of Mankind. Born an orphan and raised upon the holy shrine world of Drusus, a planet named after the very saint who brought the Calixis Sector into the light of the Imperium. Each and every day you have followed the holy devotions to nurture your soul, seeking guidance so that you may in turn provide guidance to the thousands of pilgrims who make the journey to this most holy of worlds.
You have come a long way from the days of your youth. Your masters were pleased with your zeal, piety and utter dedication to your work, sending you forth to minister to those in the teeming hive-cities of Scintilla. Believing you would be positioned to attend to the souls of the nobility within the magnificent upper spires of Hive Sibellus, you were somewhat taken-a-back to find yourself tasked with bringing the light of the Emperor to those who dwelt in the lower hive hab-blocks; where the endless drudgery of existence hung heavy on the millions who lived there. The Emperor works in mysterious ways and who were you to question the work you had been set, so for the last ten years you have brought the righteous word of the Ecclesiarchy to those most in need of it.
Recently your path crossed with a strange man who had rushed into chambers unannounced. Fearing that some underhive scum had gained access; you reached for your gun and shot wildly at the dark figure approaching your bed. Before you knew it the robed stranger had unarmed you and held you in an iron grip. Your legs gave way as he whispered in your ear that his name was Sand, an Inquisitor in the service of the Holy Ordos and that he had come for you. As you muttered your final rites you were shocked in to silence when he began laughing, saying that it was not your death that he required but your service within his retinue of acolytes!
Your holy faith keeps you pure of mind and deed. You are wise to the world of men and have an uncanny aptitude of providing the right ministrations to those you encounter – whether it be kind words of holy scripture to the poor munitions worker or a hail of bullets to hasten the cleansing of the impure of mind and body.