I often think back to the shattering. We had no warning, but we should
have known better. Such is the result of pretending to be gods, leveraging
the powers of the forbidden to attain an artificial strength. The world
will always bring things back to balance. Well, we paid the price for our
hubris. Oddly enough, there was no blood.... A flash of light, a massive
explosion, and nothing else but the scorch marks and rended earth. Somehow
I was spared. Was it fate, coincidence, the whim of the gods? I cannot
say. But from that day on, I developed the resonance... And understood the
cry of the world.
I have ever since been trying to develop a way to counteract the godlike
powers of those who bear the relics of the gods. I keep telling myself I
have faith in the balance the world brings us to, and also faith in the
limitless potential of our indomitable will. Since puberty I have been
honing my body and mind to its highest possible potential. I have attained
several plateaus but believe there to be peaks of human development I have
yet to even fathom. My current efforts have led me to the Grandmaster of
Monks and I adapt his teachings to my own.
Description:
An imposing figure of a man is standing before you. Tall and broad
across the shoulders, his large frame bears heavy musculature. His face
is replete with chiseled features; piercing blue eyes, a strong-cleft chin
and a thick brown beard and moustache. His slick brown hair is short and
his bangs are brushed upward at the front. His tanned skin gleams in the
light as he is covered in a sheen of sweat. Bulging veins run along the
length of his plentiful musculature, only absent from his solid pectorals
as well as where his abdomen splits into six. Despite his heavy frame he
moves swiftly, his motions smooth and flowing. His light gait and measured
stride imply a formal training as well as a flexibility that belies his
girth.
[reply to twerpalina]
[reply to Ashlyn]