Emissary of Sand

Emissary of Sand

Home Plane:Desert of Teerp, the Playground
Power Level:Demigod (DR4, Evo 1)
Class:Cleric 6 / Emissary of Klik'chak 7 / Divine Disciple 4 / Evangelist 5 / Church Inquisitor 2
Alignment:Lawful Neutral
Portfolio:Messengers, Righteous Zeal
Domains:Herald, Inquisition, Law
Begotten By:Klik'chak
Played by Rizban

The Emissary of Sand is the mouthpiece of Klik'chak in the mortal world and the Herald of The Pantheon of Gods. He was once the sole leader of the Chosen of Sand in the mortal world but has since ascended to godhood and been given other responsibilities. He is in love with FionaIngite Fiona, another Flameborn ascended to godhood and servant of Enigma.

Holy Symbol: A herald's trumpet
Favored Weapon: Quarterstaff
Worshipers: TrueChosen True Chosen, religious zealots
Avatar: N/A
Artifacts: N/A
Creations: Doctrine
Important Followers: TrueChosen True Chosen, the Athiks of the Anthill

Combat: Divinity 22
Origins: In the throes of the Burning Questions, a Flameborn of Enigma stopped mid step, stumbled to his knees, and subdued his own flames. Looking around, he realized that every question he had ever asked had but one single answer: Sand.

Drawn inexorably by the ultimate answer to all his questions, this lone Flameborn strode tirelessly into the wastes of Teerp's Desert. For many days and nights, the only thing in his mind was a reverberating pulse that promised that all things might be answered... sand... sand... sand... sand... sand... The further he trekked into the wastes, the more the sensation grew. Through it all, a voice could almost be heard. Nay, not a voice, a sound on the verge of hearing, too quiet to exist. An emotion, a sensation, a promise. A promise that each and every burning question that ever has or ever will exist can be forever quenched in to coolness and peace of the endless dunes of sand. A promise that every hope, every dream, every desire of the heart could be found, if one would but devote their life to the sands. Devote their heart to the sands. Devote their soul to the sands. All that matters is sand. Your dreams are but wisps of fog before the burning sun. Your hopes are but ice that must crack, melt, and be lost. You are naught but a servant of the sands, and through you, the sands will be made mighty. You are that which makes the sands great, and that is your purpose, your goal, your sole reason for being. Without the sand, you are nothing... nothing... nothing... nothing...

Ever forward did it draw him. Ever more did it twist him. His mind broke under the weight of it, twisting into chaos and confusion. Never before had he felt so lost, so alone, so desperate. Desperate for something, anything... no, not something, someone. Someone who could show the direction. Someone who could find the answer. Someone who already knew the answer. Someone who is the answer. Someone who could bring order, nay not just bring order but impose order, impose law, and show him the ultimate truth to which his life would be ever more dedicated. That is who he was seeking. He knew this now, and never would he rest until that order was imposed upon him. It became his created desire, became who he is. Nothing else mattered... nothing... nothing... nothing...

It was then that he saw it, that location from whence the pulse came. For it is here that all questions are answered, all wrongs are made right, all chaos is brought to order. As he crested the final dune, he saw before him a small cliff with a deep gorge cut deep into the ground, and he was not the only one who had been drawn here. For others had heard the call and had answered. Others were sure to follow. Those that had arrived before him were composed of many races, though most were of dwarven and elvish lineage, though there appeared to be quite a few halflings and one or two others of which the Flameborn had personally never seen nor could identify.

Though twisted by the burning sensation of sand was this Flameborn, he was not yet lost. He had answered the call but could still turn back. It was then that the almost sound became clear in his mind. His purpose was revealed, and he made a choice. Who he was before his journey began had now been completely and irrevocably lost, lost to the sands that he now chose to serve. All that mattered were the sands. He knew each believer had been promised something different, and that it would never be delivered without their hard work and total dedication to the power behind the call.

Rising to top of the dune, the Flameborn let forth a mighty burst of flame. All who toiled in the growing settlement below ceased their work and looked to this new arrival.

Hear me servants of the sand! We, the Chosen of the Desert have heard the call and answered it! Let all who now reside here know this, I alone have been chosen and called to lead you. I, the Emissary of Sand, am given the task of high priest to He that rules over all desolation, all desert, all sand. I am become His mouthpiece, the gate through which His desert winds may blow.

An ever building cheer rose from the crowd as they recognized the divine power of sand flowing through this Flameborn, this disciple of the dunes. He would lead them to the glory of all that is Sand, and they would follow him unquestioningly just as they, and he, would follow He who is Sand.

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