Most people don't believe it, but a man can change his ways. But how much can a man change without losing his sanity? Rajin has the answer. He consider himself a living proof that a man can change from a ruthless and unscrupulous excuse for a human, to a man whom charity knew no boundary. Rajin was the man who was given a second chance...

Washed upon a shore after a great storm, Rajin was rescued by a group of priests of Mitra. Nearly half dead and with the smell of the sea almost grown into his skin, the priests did what they do best, and did not ask for anything back. Not that he could give them anything, as all he owned was the rags he had on him when he drifted ashore. Not even his own memory could he share, for the sea had taken it all. He was a man without a name.

A week later he was with full health. At least in body. The priests grew worried, for each passing night the man from the sea had nightmares. When they finally confronted him with it, he told them he barely remembered the dreams. Only a man talking, and then the fear. The limitless fear making him forget what the man was talking about. The only thing he could clearly remember was that the man had called him by a name. “Rajin”.

For a man to stay sane in this world, the mind has to stay in a delicate balance. And nightmares are the minds warning when the balance has been wrecked. If not corrected, the person in question would surely go insane. So says the scrolls of Tarsin the Philosopher, a well-known scroll in any Church of Mitra. Rajin's mind was not in balance, and the priests saw only one way of restoring the balance of the scales. To save Rajin's sanity, he was taught the way of Mitra. And soon the nightmares ended.

But even as the Priests had made Rajin to one of their own, they still were curious of his past. The priest sent for information to the four corners of the world, trying to gather information about this Rajin... And one late night one of the priests returned pale faced. In his hand the courier had a bunch of papers detailing the life of Rajin, the ruthless slave-trader of Messantia, whom had cheated and killed himself to the top of the city's slave-trading.

Rajin was given the documents, and as he read them, his face turned white as well. He withdrew to his private quarters, and for five days and five nights he stayed. When the fifth day was at its end, Rajin requested a talk with his mentor, the head priest. And he said: “I remember now who I once was. And I know deep within me that I will never want to return to that self. I have changed; I have been given a second chance by the Lord himself. And I intend to pay him back. As of tomorrow I will leave this place. The world if full of people who is in need of guidance, and I intend to find them and help guide them to the right path. Fare well, mentor, and may you pray for my success.” With that he grabbed his gear and left the place.

“Silent, someone's approaching.”

The Border Reiver quickly drew his bow and hid himself behind a few bushes. Badly hid behind some rocks were his fellows with drawn blades, the third gravely wounded in the chest. From time to time the wounded Reiver, gone senseless by the pain, made some gurgling sounds. He would probably not survive the trip home, but his friends did not want to give him up yet. But if he made one more sound, their position would surely be given away.

From the road ahead a lonely man, clad in a once white, now road-weary robe, came wandering. He had a wandering staff in his hand and a poorly filled gold-pouch around his waist. The Reavers suspected a trap, and was hoping he would just pass by. But fate (or the Lord Mitra) had other plans, for as the wanderer passed by, their wounded fellow yelled out in pain. The Reiver had no other choice than to reveal himself, bow targeting the wanderer...

“You seem lost, wanderer.”