What little Valishul knew of his heritage was shared to him when he came of age to understand what he was, a mortal amongst celestials but that never stopped him trying to step from the awe of their shadow. He grew up amongst their kind but wasn't alone in their lands, others were like him and he was educated amongst them in the City of Ascalon, a utopia erected on the face of Mount Celeia and was able to be raised without wanting, without strife or pain.
 
He was told stories of his mother, a herbalist and healer of impoverished origins. The deeds of her life filled him with a sense of pride, knowing that she embodied everything he was being taught to live by and held hope for better purpose when the cards were stacked against her. Inspired by the way she'd aid the sick and injured, regardless of prejudice for her methods and superstitious accusations of fearful townsfolk, weary of what they did not understand.
 
These stories of a mother he'll never know instilled in him a deep ambition to strive for her values, learning from a young age that acts of kindness, no matter how small or large could always bolster the good in a world rife with evil. However it never seemed as clear cut in his eyes, for one of good nature could always be driven to act immorally which left him struggling to understand where the line should be drawn.
 
This struggle stayed with him throughout his teenage years, each God had tenants and each one varied, but in the domain he resided they were all inherently good. He undertook an endeavour to seek out the wisest council in the marble city but those he asked guided him to the summit of the mountain to find his answers.
 
For several days he resided at the peak of the mountain, so close to the azure sky he thought he could touch it. There his queries were answered and his goals set straight. He had found his God, one to revere with fervent devotion and to pursue it he go further afield than the walls of Ascalon.
 
To that end, Valishul sought out the finest of teachers and enrolled within the famed Legion of Unyielding Light. Their training rigorous, their faith unfaltering and their cause something to be admired with the entirety of his being. Through that dedication, he earned himself a place amongst the lines of the first file.
 
There he served alongside a myriad number of like minded warriors of all races, making bonds stronger than mere friendship and earning a family for life, thriving under their tutelage which helped him endure a grueling eighteen year service on the fringes of the celestial plane. where evil encroached with guile or force.
 
During his tenure on the frontlines he'd earned the privilege of serving as his Centurion's right hand, an Optio in the structure of the Legion. However the new level of responsibility came with perils of the role, succumbing to drink when prayer didn't relieve the despair of war. The deaths of those around him weighing heavily on his conscience.
 
Their loss of life his burden to carry and to honour their name or enact their retribution, he sports mementos and trinkets of good fortune in addition to a javelin of ethereal craftsmanship which belonged to his commander.
 
The nature of his experience made him a stand out candidate for the Venatori, a branch of the Legion dedicated to rooting out creatures of foul origin before they can see their maleficent machinations through to completion. Although these tasks are conducted in strict secrecy, the Venatori are chosen not for their subterfuge but for their imposing awe and stoic nature.
 
They serve as the face of the celestials in the eyes of mortals and thus, must be able to conduct themselves to a level befitting a righteous being of unparalleled purity. No single being is without flaw, even the most esteemed of Venatori have their vices but the oath he swore when he was pledged into their ranks decrees that he must be a paragon of divinity.