Role

Chapter 6

Though Jichii's history is mostly lost to the alcoholic mist that destroys
his mind, there are some key facts that never seem to fade. Such has his
undying hatred for the God of Magic, Twist as the source of all his
depression and angst.

It is said that when the chaos of the Rift flooded the world, and mana itself
became too unpredictable even for the magic of the Gods, that Twist was
thrown into an insane rage. Broken only at random my calms in which he might
rest himself, Twist tore at Thera with his power and bent reality in ways
that could be both inconsequentially large and purposely minute. One of these
events, struck the exact place that Jichii was standing. Where deserts were
flooded, forests uprooted and oceans sunk no one had time to pay
attention to the man that became unstuck from Time. The only things that
Jichii has recounted enough to be considered accurate, are that he was
enjoying an evening at his local bar and that he was but a week away from
both the Harvest festival that would celebrate his manhood, and being married
to his childhood sweetheart. An almost happy life, something many half-breeds
never achieve.

Finding himself hurled into the present, when the magic that held him away
from time/space finally collapsed, he was lost and confused. Discovery soon
turned to despair as he found not decades but centuries had past. While he
had not aged a single moment, the loving community he had worked into despite
his unusual ageing and appearance, had all but gone. Anything human that he
might have connected with had long since passed on and even the Mageplague
was something so far in the past it was considered history. At first, a vague
acceptance came. But as time passed, he could no more settle in the present
than he could in another dimension. Everything felt so alien. Subtle things
had changed in culture and his bardic talent was failing him horribly. Jokes
that once might have been the height of fashion, were long since out of mode.
Stories once popular had fallen into distaste and all that was left to
comfort him was what the bar could readily offer. Small talk, cheap women and
booze.

From there on, his history paradoxically gets even thinner. Somewhere within
it he discovered the cause of the great turmoil that swept the land. With no
one else to blame, he assumed it could only have been the Lord of Magic
himself.

But what mortal could possibly challenge a God? What God would let a mortal
hold them to account? How could what is gone be righted by any act of
justice?

The answers might be clear but for men such as Jichii the only need they have
is revenge. Where emotion rules there is no logic. We can only pray there is
still hope.