Cindarrin: Wastes of Ephemera Part II

For Part I, click here.

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Why am I what I am? Because it could not be otherwise. Here, or in another place, another time, 
I must be what fate demands.

– From The Song of Ash Awakened

*****

I awoke as in a fog of grey mist and shadow.

Stumbling in what direction I knew not, I came upon the weathered stone of an ancient road.

I set my feet upon it, and marched its course. The murk dissipated as I walked, revealing a stark landscape.

In the distance I saw a village. And the people welcomed me, though I was unknown to them.

"What is your name?" they asked. "From whence come you?"

I could not answer them.

"No matter," they said. "You shall have comfort this night."

I sensed, through their generosity, a fear of which none spoke.

*****

I woke to moon-rise, and a tension in my soul. Something was coming, not for me, but for the villagers.

And suddenly I was on my feet, blade flashing in my hand. I cut into the flesh of the beast. Its claws ripped at my breast. Our blood mingled in the intimacy of killing.

Then it lay silent and still, as I rolled away and gasped for breath, and the cool night air soothed my torn skin.

A glint of gold, a ring upon the fiend's crooked finger.

I knew this glittering thing. Unclearly, as if from a distant dream. But I knew it.

I pulled the ring from the creature's clawed hand. A familiar band. An heirloom. A lost history. A blood right.

*****

Dawn comes. The fear lifts from the village. They asked if I will remain.

But the ancient road does not end in this hamlet. It calls to me, and I will follow, to the horizon and beyond.

They give me food for the journey. They ask the gods to bless me. "Fare you well!" they call as I leave the village. "Fare you well...Cindarrin!"

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It is unknown exactly where the Cindarrin come from. They simply appear one day, in some village or other. In some cases they are fully conscious of being Cindarrin. In other cases they have only a vague sense of it, and sometimes none at all. It is believed that Cindarrin are somehow related to the long-dead Lords of Ephemera, but no one knows how, not even the Cindarrin themselves. Perhaps they are reincarnations. Perhaps some form of descendant. The Cindarrin always have the physical form of one of the four kindred races. They are mortal like any other being of those races. They can be of any class, or alignment (though chaotics are rare, and tend to be "moderate"). All Cindarrin wander the land, driven by at least one of these three basic impulses:

1. Destroying abominari remnants whereever they may be found
2. Recovering lost treasures from the Time that Was
3. Protecting the remnants of the kindred races and helping to rebuild Ephemera

See also: The Wastes of Ephemera