The Holy Heretical Martyr
Reobin is a conundrum that the Inquisition likes to overlook. Him and all of his little pagan folk of the Caelthair tribe. Unlike many of his kin, especially those older than him, Reobin has been working to reconcile his people’s lost Lady of the Grove with the goddess Sheela Pehr, hoping to find a renewed faith in this goddess of their new home, something to soothe the still stinging pain of their lost Mother. He cleaves to old traditions with new words and names, which of course doesn’t sit right with his people, and the Church can’t quite figure out if it heresy or not. Torn between the two perspectives, and feeling deeply for each of them in his own way, Reobin has the unfortunate and unhappy task of trying to lead the spiritual growth of his people without getting them all beheaded, and they’re quite stubborn about their Lady.
He was born in one of the small settlements his people tried to found on their exodus. Quickly lost to the legions, they had no choice to abandon the village they had built and flee once more into the frozen wilds. Reobin spent most of his youth on his people’s ill fated trek. During this time he was taken as hamlun ((apprentice)) to Hymhan, the delthwynn ((spiritual leader)) of his tribe, much too early and without the proper rituals being held. They did the best they could with what they had available, but their traditions relied on living, breathing earth, and beneath the permafrost the soil was dead. There was no competition, no group of kimb ((initiates)) to choose from, and no proper period of teaching. Indeed, the only part that Hymhan got right was choosing a hamlun from a clan that belonged in the eschelons of witches and rangers. The others were none too happy about it, but they respected Hymhan well enough and trusted his wisdom.
When he died, their courage and faith largely failed them, because his hamlun was not nearly taught or prepared enough, nor even old enough, to lead them as they needed him to.
The clans banded together to help raise Reobin with as much knowledge and lore as they could cobble together between them. Despite their misgivings, they would not, under any circumstances, betray their late delthwynn by usurping Reobin for someone that they considered better. And so, when they reached the gates and made their way in, Reobin was an adolescent ill prepared for his role, but as ready as they could have made him.
He spent his early days in Premach availing himself to the greenhouses, as did every one of his kin with the magic of the Lady in their bones and hearts. They didn’t know these Hin, but there was no denying the kinship they felt, despite their differences of opinion. Considering these were the only other living people they had seen since leaving their home over a century ago, the tribe wanted only to offer their help and earn their place, as strange and alien as it may be to live in massive stone edifices and labyrinthian streets. Tensions persisted, of course, with constant fear that these wild Hin might be harboring the enemy past their walls, that their old ways were heathen madness that would fracture their stalwart defenses, and in time those tensions boiled over in bloodshed. For a few years, the Inquisition and the devout of the Church counted the Caelthair as enemies, which led to vicious and brutal ‘cleansings’ and quite a few Hin bodies. The pressure of the hostilities eventually released and uneasy peace was earned, but the damage was done and trust was broken.
He had hoped that becoming a part of the Inquisition would help things. That the Church would calm their fears of heresy and his people would learn to see Sheela Pehr the way he does: as a new face for their old ways, a sort of spiritual Aunt to their Green Mother. He still hopes it works. Moreso, he’s learning that their squabbles and bickering aren’t the threat, it’s the horrific legions clawing at their walls, both within and without, that need their true strength. To that end, he has settled himself as Inquisitor first, delthwynn second, though he finds himself consistently approached, however begrudgingly, by his tribe for spiritual support. They know he was never meant to be delthwynn so early, that only through the loss of Hymhan did he fall into the role. For that, he strives ever harder to grow into the position that both his people, and the city, need of him.