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Shining Giggling Whisper
056f95
Arright, here we go, guys. Picture AND backstory. Ain't I a nice guy.
"I suppose you wonder how I came to be like this. I suppose it's a story that deserves to be told, as well.
Believe it or not, I was born only twenty-five years ago, in the village of Watcher's Wake, on the western edge of the Linowan nation. My mother was a Lookshyan refugee, escaping from some conflict or another, already pregnant with me. She died from a wasting sickness a year after giving birth to me. Without a father or a mother, I was put in the care of the village head, a man by the name of Elmes Pelet, but everyone called him the 'village watcher', or just 'master Pelet'. He was a sifu, a master of martial arts, and secretly a Terrestrial sorcerer, though I only became privy to that knowledge after I myself took my second breath.
Under the guise of being a reclusive martial arts master, Pelet kept the village safe and uninvolved with the Linowans and their wars, hiding his true Dragon-Blooded nature with sorcery, charms and guile. He was a man of great, great learning... and even greater opinions. He never outright told me, but I got the idea that he had been exiled from the Scarlet Empire for his views on, among other things, those like yourself. He certainly never taught me to detest Anathema like the Immaculate faith preaches; quite the opposite. If there ever was a chance I could serve one, he said, I should grasp it fully and without regret... so here I am, I suppose.
In some ways he was like a father to me, but mostly he was my sifu, my teacher. He raised me, trained me and taught me, giving me more of an education than an orphan in a village so small had any right to have. When the blessing of the elemental dragons came on me, he took me on as his apprentice, letting me learn some of his secrets, and further widening my knowledge. I found out that being the 'village watcher' was more than just a title or old tradition to him. He truly kept vigil over the village, and what hid beneath it; a cave filled with strange, dormant machinery from an age past. Master Pelet was slowly and carefully trying to disable it while keeping it hidden, lest its power be unleashed on Creation.
When the great quake came six years ago, and the Tower of the North appeared, that task became more difficult. When the quake hit, the machinery came to life, triggered in some way, and started overcharging itself from nearby ancient manses. We feared it would explode or activate somehow, neither of which would have been a very good thing. My master took action, spending days below-ground with tools and hastily-summoned demonic servitors, and managed to disable the machinery by disrupting the flow of its essence, and just in time too. It was a highly patchwork job, however, and he said the machinery was now more dangerous than ever. During the next five years, he would often have to repair his repairs, and he was always working on a more permanent solution, experimenting with essence and magical elements and trying to craft an artifact that could lull the machinery to slumber again. He had me work and train extensively on crafting fine tools and carving gems in this period in preparation for the final effort.
Unfortunately, we never got to complete our task. Last year an expedition of Dragon-Blooded dynasts and their followers entered Watcher's Wake, demanding master Pelet's presence and obeisance, threatening destruction on the village if he didn't comply. My master told me to evacuate and save what villagers I could, and above all remain hidden, before he met with them face-to-face, then face-to-fist when negotiations inevitably broke down.
My master was powerful and their followers fell like rice to the sickle, but against a united group of Dragon-Blooded, even his own abilities had limits. Their response leveled half the village and nearly killed master Pelet. Searching the ruins of my master's dojo, they then discovered the entrance to the cave, leaving behind a rear guard that I managed to dispatch discreetly after leading the surviving villagers away. By the time I had snuck up on them again, they were already fooling around with my master's repairs and trying to rouse him for questioning. Repeatedly they asked about how to 'open the vault', but their beatings had unfortunately been too severe for him.
I was still trying to formulate some plan of defeating them when they damaged the essence blocks master Pelet had set up, thinking them seals to whatever vault they were after. The result was... this. This aged, sickly body, teetering on the brink between life and death, and I was the lucky one.
As they broke the blocks there was a flash. Burgeoning outwards came a great gout of unnaturally twisted essence. Time lost its meaning, and I felt trapped and rapidly strung out, like a ball of yarn held fast in one end and dropped off a cliff, quickly unravelling and stretching out to the end of its length. Just before I felt I was reaching that end, the sensation stopped with a sickening wrench, like I had been... caught, just in time. I dropped to the floor; weak, confused and in the state you see me now. When I managed to rise, I saw a dozen withered corpses, rotting gear and smoking machinery; all that remained of the dynasts and my master. The walls of the cave were loose and crumbling, dust descending upon me and combining with the smoke to make it hard to see or even breathe. In the space of an instant, what must have been hundreds of years had passed, until the machinery that maintained the effect could no longer sustain it and broke down, and it hadn't finished breaking. The cracking noises and judders that shook it told me that there was worse to come.
With the cave crumbling around me, I staggered forward to master Pelet's shrivelled body, and as I did so, I spotted an opening in the machinery that I had never seen before, from which a round item clattered to the floor, jolted loose by the shaking. Grabbing it, as well as the body and staff of my master, I turned and ran, which was wise of me. Racing until I thought my lungs would burst, I barely managed to reach the outside before there was a loud noise after which the ground cracked and buckled and threw me to my feet. The caves collapsed completely, burying everything beneath it under tonnes of rock.
As you might imagine, once I finally had a moment to think clearly, I was devastated. In the space of a day, my home and my sifu had gone and my life been cut short by hundreds of years. I used to feel the best part of my life lay ahead of me. Now I dread every season that passes, because I suspect I do not have many years left to my name. But that, at least, is something I might fix, given the opportunity. If there was anything my master taught me it was that the wonders of the First Age were manyfold, and its learning vast. What's been done to me is wholly unnatural, and so it might be undone. That is the thought that came to me back then, and which I still hold strong, now that I see the Tower of the North and all its First-Age mysteries lie before me.
Taking heart in that thought, I collected what supplies and items I could from the village ruins and buried my master respectfully. Having had time to think, I also took a closer look at the item I had managed to grab, and which the machinery had been, indirectly I suppose, guarding. By now you must realize I'm referring to the Cache Egg, and inside it was indeed a long-hidden number of artifacts, likely from the Shogunate era, although the machinery probably predated it. Nothing worth the life of my master, or the dynasts' foolishness, but these tools of wonder did make me more hopeful for the future. With the Wings of the Raptor, I could travel far and easily, and flying has become a delight to me. With the shape-changing armour, I do not lack for wear or defense. The other lesser artifacts have had their uses as well. Taking them all, I took farewell with Watcher's Wake and made my way northwards.
And that is my story, such as it is."
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