Role

Chapter 3

Foedett's life and entry to the tree would appear to the outside observer
nothing more than several long strides on the path of chaos, and mayhem. This
would not be a far cry from the truth for the trickster aspirant, but it
would not be the whole truth either. A means to an end, he would judge it,
and rightly so, for the attention he drew was to ensure his place within the
tree to help heal the wounds on Thar-eris, and to fan the flames elsewhere.

His training in the thief guild began as an outlet for his creative craft of
tinkering, in the field of trappers. As time went on, and his mastery of the
path was complete, he decided to strengthen his abilities where he already
excelled: In short, by being more of a pain in the ass. But, enough with the
flattery...

He has also taken to the training of mystics in Arkham, at first as a foray
into the magical arts, as he assumed his mutated legs were a product of the
arcane. But it became so much more, and he took to the craft like the other
fields of study, like a fish to water.

On this day, he came upon the corrupted wound west of the Tree of Ages, and
decided it was time to do something about it, even if it be only to
investigate, and despite the risk to his body and who knows what else.
Harnessing the power of the earth inherent in svirfnebli, he knelt down at
the spot and transformed himself into earth. He winced as the residue of the
terrestrial nightwalkers began to encroach on his stony form, but remained
steady in his efforts. Meditating deeply now, he placed his open palms on the
soil and invoked a concentrated burst of mental energy into the mystic
ability of glimpsing, to see beneath the very soil, with his stony form still
holding, when a flood of knowledge filled his mind. His teeth gritted, and
beginning to drool, he held on as long as he could to ascertain the nature of
this wound made by dark sorcery.

This first attempt was the worst by far, as after only a few more minutes, he
lost consciousness. When he awoke, he retained only bits and pieces of
information, but knew that he had struck upon something major. And he knew,
with some rest of course, he could attempt again. As with the beatings as a
pirate slave, the worst battering dulls the pain of those in the future
unless they are worse. He now seeks the wisdom of the ancients, and of his
peers within the tree of all branches, to attempt first to ascertain the
nature of this wound, and then work to eradicate it so that the roots of the
Tree of Ages might spread there again.