Of Daggers and Dreams - Season One: Sharn
Old adage: "Beware the gifts of The Traveler"
Only three of you have met him, and then only under trance, though it could be argued that he was as real and tangible then as he will ever be. Tall and dusty, a figure long on the Road, though where he is going and where bound nobody knows. When he lifts his head you see the face of chaos. Long, grim, and painted with the crass and cavalier colours of the carnival clown. Dark eyes stare out of a web of wrinkles, eons of laughter and windward travel. He smiles, and it chills you to the bone, the grin that stretches his face almost to splitting, and the cogs and sprockets that turn and grind and whir where even a sharpened wall of teeth would be reassuring.
And then he spoke. The voice that emanates from under his wide-brimmed hat belies ages past, ages filled with song and rhetoric and cruel laughter.
To Manekatari: “Well-woven webs of wit and delicate deceptions will serve you well, for the minds of mere mortals are mundane and malleable. Tread wisely, steward of dreams.”
To Galair: “To reveal the raw reality at your core is willful weakness. Shroud yourself in secrets and shadows so subtle that even you might only guess at what truly lies within.”
To Tabitha: “Fire and frost are the forces of freedom, for all is feeble, and nothing forever. The wheel turns, and it is in your hands to create change that chances well to friends, and consummates calamity for foes.”
And then he walked away…