Lathander started life as a nomadic demonologist, travelling the back-roads of his home plane. After being swept through a planer opening admists a bank of fog, he had to adapt to a whole knew world, known as Elden. Founder of the Trove corporation, he eventually went into seclusion, only appearing again in the midst of a planar emergency. He is a known friend and ally of many races and empires, openly wearing their sigils and emblems. Many of his alliances were battle-won, as Lathander was a major participant within the first Hydradic War. He earned his honors within the xenophobic Thulian empire, as well recognition from the enigmic Gorgonite race in this conflict, saving both through numerous encounters and hardhips. Of course, this earned him the eternal hatred of the hydra race...

Under his guidance, the Trove Corporation took over Elden as it's base of operations. From there, it began to extend satelite offices all throughout the multiverse, consolidating it's power as the number one merchant entity around. Unfortunately, this earned Lathander the animosity of many business men and trader-lords who were shoved aside in his rise to power.

In an act of desperation, these desposed merchants banded together and bought the ultimate form of retribution; the Plague of Knives. An assassin's contract who's number of participants grow exponentially with the passing of set intervals. First one... Then ten... Then a hundred hired killers and hit-beings, all focused on one driving goal... That of death.

Turin's death.

The cabal of merchants under-estimated Lathander's resourcefulness however. The doctor not only managed to survive the initial waves of assassins, but managed to strike back at the trader-lords through various legal and financial means. In the end, it was the merchants' folly... Assets seized, properties confiscated, the cabal finally fell to it's own killers, itching for pay from other services rendered. When the dust settled, Lathander was able to sweep clean his adversaries and, taking all the seized funds, greatly consolidated his personal wealth.

No-matter how wealth he became though, Turin always felt the iron-grip of wanderlust. Power and responsibility brought many a drawback as well, for the doctor's personal studies and desires fell along the wayside, driven beneath the onslaught of Troven paperwork.

****

Much has changed for Lathander in the multiverse... No-longer do the pressures of *have* and *must* apply. He has broken free from the Trove corporation, broken free from all ties to stability beyond his home-base of operation. Now, once again.. He wanders, always searching... Always hunting. For what, is unknown.. Perhaps even to the doctor.

For many years, Lathander wandered the multiverse... Learning what could be learned, teaching those worth teaching. From the ether to the void, the doctor explored as much as he humanly could... Meeting both friend and foe alike. When the multiverse wasn't enough, Turin developed the equipment and abilities necessary to tackle the two vast gulfs of the void and the ether. In his travels, the doctor found the one thing he'd never set out to search for...

Love.

On some distant planescape, known to thulian archives simply as '1829,' Lathander discovered... Her. Not your typical relationship, truth be told, but one undeniably satisfying to him. Unfortunately, different lives brought different miseries. His journies brought him farther and farther away from 'home,' passing time becoming a fleeting thing.

It's unknown to Lathander exactly what happened. Planar drift in the area began to blurr the lines between each realm, making it harder and harder to locate planescape 1829. Occasionally, the doctor manages the dimensional skism, only to find an empty plane, a disquieting shadow of itself. Traces of passage can be found, but little in the way of activity. All that is left to the doctor is a ravaged bar and echos surrounding the ruined scar of her home. He continues to try however, every once in a while tearing through to look for any trace of her.

Time lost meaning in those years, an unperceptible rush of change that began to cloud the multiverse's memory of the doctor. When Lathander returned, he found a changed reality. Oppression ruled in many places, sinkholes of corruption that swallowed surrounding planes like an ocean-born vortex. At the heart of this growing disaster, Lathander found an orgue known simply as the Shaman. An old mentor of the doctor's, it seemed, he had snapped sometime in the lost decades Turin had spent outside the multiverse. Crazed, power-hungry, and horribly corrupted, the Shaman had brought his destructive path to the very doors of Elden and Thulia in a bid for supremecy over both.

War raged between the allied Trove/Thulia forces and the corrupt elementals of the Shaman, a horrible stalemate where only death reigned. Behind the scenes, unknown to all sides, Lathander orchestrated a second line of attack against the Shaman...

The runeblade God-slayer, though helped into existance by the doctor, was truly the brainchild of a blue drakkenoid known only as the Forger. A longsword of immeasurable power, God-slayer was designed to be both a last ditch effort and a final solution to the current befoulment on the multiverse. There was one drawback however... In creating the runeblade, it became bonded to the blue drakkenoid. Unable to part from one another, both blade and beast became dependant upon each other's existance to sustain their own. And, as all runeblades carry a 'fatal flaw,' a tortorous existance it became... Unavoidable, unfortunately, as the situation became dire.

Locked in final battle, Yannos of Thulia and the corrupted Shaman dueled for their very lives. A cracked, battle-torn landscape was their field, the dead and dying from both sides their spectators. Blow after blow was exchanged, neither party able to maintain the upper hand. The very fabric of reality there split, rended asunder by the massive release of energies. To this day, the plane of Xsilon is still a storm-wracked, harsh land of danger and instability.

At a critical juncture in the fight, both Lathander and the Forger sprung into action. The doctor was able to drive the Shaman back from the wounded Yannos with both etheric and dimensional flame, while the blue drakkenoid moved in to engage the orgue physically.

Through a massive energy attack, Turin was able to drain the Shaman's defenses enough for God-slayer to strike home... And strike true. With a pitiable cry, the orgue died on the end of the runeblade and it's reign of terror was brought to an end. There still remained a massive cleanup operation however, as many planes were corrupted beyond usage by anything other than fiends and demons.

****

Lathander has slunk back into obscurity, for the most part, avoiding public recognition for his defense of Yannos and the realms. The doctor happily let that honor slide onto the Forger's lap. There were bigger fish to fry for Turin however... The fallout from the Shaman's attack upon the fabric of the multiverse created vibrations throughout the realms.

Lathander has made great strides recently, increasing in both power and perspective. Still cold and distant, he now views life with different eyes and tries to actually enjoy himself. For the most part, he has gone into seclusion again, studying new magics and talents, though he has learned that one must take time away from these things lest they lose themelves. Dr. Turin's new philosophy on life has made him unpredictable, even moreso than before.

A cresendo was building in the realms, one of destruction and death on porportions that made the Shaman and Hydratic wars pale in comparison. Everywhere, corruption was running rampant like muck stirred up in a siltwater pond.

The Time of Trials, as it was known to the seers.

Aptly named, the eons known as the Time of Trials brought the multiverse to the edge of oblivion... And held it there, a tenious balance of evils and goods leaving the whole of everything teetering on the brink. The slightest shift of powers, the smallest influx of wrong energies and away it all would go, flushed down the cosmic toilet.

Instead of getting involved, Lathander made it his sole mission to discover a way to survive... No matter how bad things got. With that single purpose in mind, the doctor discovered a course of action that may do exactly that...

God-hood.

As incredulious of a task as it seemed, that alone offered Lathander any hope of surviving the cataclysm when (not if) things broke down. Garnering help from both Yannos and aspects of the Emperor himself, Turin took the first step down the path to divinity.

****

The great time of Trials has past, leaving widespread destruction in it's wake. Silver linings abound however, leaving the clouded multiverse with new hope. Many races, many planes were able to pull back from the brink of nothingness, enough to save the multiverse itself. Though many individual planes were lost, most were the heavily corrupted ones. Dr. Turin has been lost to time, not glimpsed by the public eye for eons. Even his closest advisors and aquaintences believe him to be dead, though a few know the truth...

The Watching God or the Shaping Flame he is known as now, a diefied entity who's origins are lost in time. Everywhere and no-where, Lathander has taken a sedetary role in the multiverse's progression, rarely coming away from his private studies to deal with possibly catastrophic events. Many shrines to the watching god are evident, wide-spread as any religion can be. It is said that, though thousands of shrines exist on as many planes, the watching god is present in all of them at once.. Hidden, yet listening to his followers' pleas.

His reclusion has been more forced than anything. Much effort was necessary to master Lathander's new-found powers. With claiming one of the thirteen Mantles of Divinity, Turin has learned the truth behind the scenes. And that truth has brought about grave responsibilities the likes of which the doctor has never known.

****