Faux

The shards of Darkstone do not fly at random. The Darkstone acted with as much consciousness as any mortal, even as it was flung across the land in the great explosion of Karim. Every shard knew its destination and purpose long before the devastation even took place. The Darkstone cannot be found, only discovered by he who was destined to find it. This must be kept in mind when one looks back upon the ascension of Faux. His destiny had been mapped by the Darkstone long before he was taken as the apprentice to the aeromancer Nimyrn.

The isle of Jodan was the richest jewel of the seas surrounding the mainland. The prosperity of the isle was directly related to the forest which thrived across the its northern lands. The forest brimmed with more magic than all but the holiest lands of Darkstone. But this was no temple to any immortal, to be ruled by a lord or priest. The magic of the the Andreas was wild, unharnessed, and in its purest form. According to Nimyrn, who lived at the edge of the Andreas, this concentrated power was known as magyk, and all those who wielded it were known as magykers. The wealth of Jodan was created by this forest, and the forest, as with all mighty things, was created by a shard of Darkstone.

It was obvious to Seluctruh that power this untamed could only have been brought about by a shard, and he was determined to make the shard his. He sent minion after minion. Only the strongest of his servants would dare enter the Andreas, and for good reason, because none of them survived. Each was torn limb from limb by the abundance of creatures that dwelt within the forest. The magykers of the Andreas were less than pleased to share their land with any mortal, let alone shadow stalker and vampire scum.

However two mortals dwelt close to the Andreas. These two were Nimyrn, an aeromancer of no little fame across the land, and his apprentice. Nimyrn had not chosen to dwell in his small house beside the forest. The Andreas had lured him, almost tricked him into entering, and made him an offer he was loath to refuse. Nimyrn was named the protector of the magykal wood in his youth, and had lived there peacefully ever since. That is, until the boy arrived.

His parents had given up on raising the babe early on. They were fisher folk of the island, and ill prepared to deal with the odd smattering of magic that their son seemed cursed with. Cursed, because the babe had absolutely no control over it. Fires would break out in the middle of the dinner table, beds would levitate, and after three of his father's boats were turned into porcupines his family decided the four month old babe could no longer live with them. The father made the three day journey to the edge of the forest, and left the child upon the doorstep of the wizard. This wizard, was not happy in the least.

Nimyrn began his search of the parents immediately, meditating night and day in hope of detecting some trace of the boy's family. It took a month of searching during which innumerable pieces of furniture in his small house ran away from home singing, but finally he discovered the boy's family. Unfortunately the forest had no intention of returning the boy. Strange as it might seem the magykal forest seemed infatuated with the boy's complete lack of control. Nimyrn was obliged to keep the boy as an apprentice, lest his home be trampled by fleets of irate unicorns and hell hounds.

He named the boy Faux, for having not been sanctioned by the League of Five great Wizards, he could not be a true apprentice. But Nimyrn did not have the option of traveling to the mainland. His life was spent protecting the Andreas, and he needed to be near the forest at all times. Faux grew quickly, into a gangly, disoriented adolescent. He was obviously filled with magic, but he seemed terrible at harnessing it for any useful purpose. Sure he could turn lead into mold, and make a monkey sprout wings and swim, but truly what good could this do him? Meditation provided the boy no relief, for his head was constantly filled by the buzzing sounds which taunted him at all hours. Although it brought no end of frustration to the volatile Nimyrn, the forest almost seemed to delight in the boy's failures. And so grew Faux, surrounded by madness.

And all the while Seluctruh dreamt of the shard. The gleaming shard of ultimate magyk. It seemed highly unlikely that a chunk filled with the most powerful, unbridled portion of the Darkstone's magyk could have remained whole, but it seemed to have occurred. This shard in the Andreas was none other than the central shard. The very foundation of the Darkstone's power. As sending separate strike forces to search and obtain the stone had failed, the Dark One's only course of action was to attack with all his strength. And so they gathered, an army the likes of which hasn't been seen since. They marched from the mainland, and through the sea, an army of the undead slowly made their way through the oceans, toward the island.

They were sensed by Nimyrn long before they arrived, and he left his home by the forest for the first time since becoming its protector. He and the boy marched to Hy-So-Bai, the meeting place of the great powers of the land. The five kingdoms, of the elves, the dwarves, the plainsmen, the swamp-dwellers, and the sandmen met to rally against the menace. Nimyrn spoke for the magykers of the Andreas, and led them into battle. It was at this conference that Faux first donned the weeds of war. His journeys across to Hy-So-Bai and that which occurred within the stronghold are fables in themselves.

But the battle was a lost cause. The allies were weak, and the enemy relentless. Faux found himself on the retreat, leading Nimyrn back to the forest. The allied kingdoms had fought valiantly, but they were scattered by the ceaseless charge of Seluctruh's children. Onward they marched toward the forest, trampling every living creature in their way. If the shard was not to be discovered, the forest would die in a holocaust of flame. The shard would be found, even if that meant crushing the forest inch by inch. Finally, as they reached the forest edge Nimyrn called to Faux to halt. He would run no more.

The wizard stood before his enemies, his apprentice at his side wielding a staff. The fiends marched onwards, an irresistible force. With a smile the wizard looked upon his brave, foolish apprentice, and sealed him in a sphere of light where he could not be harmed. Seluctruh cackled as he saw the old man dare to face his creatures. The wizard would make a fitting sacrifice. The undead swarmed around him, pouring into the forest. They hacked at the body of the wizard, and covered the sphere of light under which Faux stood unable to aid his master. Even as they tore at his throat, the wizard reached to his chest, and produced a small pendant. From the pendant hung the shard of Darkstone.

Seluctruh was in shock. He screamed at his armies to grab for the stone, but the undead were slow to respond. Nimyrn crushed the shard in his palm, and the world exploded in manner which shook the mainland. A wall of light spread over the armies of Seluctruh, engulfing each undead creature in flame, as well as incinerating every living thing on the island for miles in all directions. Rather than be taken by the undead, the forest, which had long ago entrusted Nimyrn with the power of the shard, demanded that the wizard end its existence himself.

And Faux lay motionless on the scorched field of battle. Around lay the corpses of not only his enemies, but of the forest by which he had made his home, and of the man who had taught him all he held dear. In that moment the boy's mind snapped, and the magyk flowed from him. It was pure, unfettered by thought, or logic, or reason. Pure insanity made ethereal flowed from his body, and in that moment he was the most powerful mortal in the land.

Tarin looked down upon the field of battle, and all Seluctruh's destruction. A powerful depository of magic had been snuffed from existence in a single slash of Seluctruh's claws. Now was time to even the score. This boy would be made immortal so that never again would pure magyk come to harm. Also called, the boy god, or the mad god, Faux is a twisted and yet gentle creature. He responds in violence whenever his precious magyk is threatened, but lives to aid any who would help protect the power he has promised his life to protect.

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