There's a character I didn't play for very long that I'd like to play again.

A cleric, but when asked who his deity is, he's pretty cagey. Maybe answers under his breath and coughs over his answer so no one can understand the answer.

He introduces himself as "Pope Hypatious Constantine Driac". ("Pope Driac" for short.) But every time he is referred to by his title, he corrects them, reducing the importance of his position. "Actually, call me cardinal. That's more accurate." "Archbishop, actually." "Did I say 'arch'-bishop? I meant regular bishop. Ha! Silly me."

He has terrible hygeine. And he's always got a runny nose that he's always wiping with his bare hand. And that's particularly gross because he keeps giving people blessings with a gesture that's basically palming (like one might palm a basketball) people's faces with a "bless you my child."

His secret? He's an adherent of a secretive cult dedicated to a god(dess?) of disease/infirmity/plague/sickness. Everything from head-colds to typhoid are sacriments which he believes brings people closer to his god. He actively tries to convert people to his faith, but he believes only an illness (temporary or permanent) may truly convert one, so he's always trying to get others (including enemies while in the heat of battle) sick.

He does know all the healing spells. His order practices by repeatedly infecting themselves with the sickness of the week (bubonic plague, leprosy, maybe this week I'll try influenza) and bringing themselves close to death. But their god isn't a god of death or suicide or necromancy, so they can't have their adherents dying all over the place. They heal their sickness with typical good-aligned-cleric sort of spells soon before death.

Optimally, he'd get spells that allowed him to infect people, but failing that, he could just collect samples of infected stuff in little vials over time. A flake of dead skin from someone with leprosy here. A smallpox-laden scrap of cloth there.

Last time I played him (not in D&D, but rather Lamentations of the Flame Princess), he had a blowgun. And his left arm was traumatically amputated in one of his first combat encounters. He saved the arm in his pack. Right as the next encounter (with lizardmen, I think) started, he said "wait!" in a commanding voice. He promised to show the enemy something grand and wonderful if they'd only give him a minute to show them. He rolled high on his persuasion roll. He withdrew his arm (now quite rotten and gross) from his pack, stabbed it a bunch of times with several darts, and then shot a lizardman with a gross dart with his blowgun. (You have to imagine him doing all this one-handed too. Lol.) Of course, at that point, the combat was back in full swing, but Driac had accomplished what he'd set out to. And of course, the party was all going "what the actual fuck...?"

So, back to the name. "Hypatius Constantine Driac." It's a play on "hypochondriac." No one I played with ever guessed my character was any sort of "plague priest" or whatever. But then again, I didn't get to play him for very long.