Post by Zivix on Mar 17, 2013 1:59:04 GMT -5
It was a typical night in the Confederacy, one of many in a string of typical night, or so everyone thought. Firelight flickered through the door of one house, and the moans of a woman in labor could be heard from within. Inside the house the midwife was sitting in her customary position for these ordeals while the husband of the mother-to-be held her hand and whispered encouragements into her ear.
"One more push," the midwife says.
The mother bears down and delivers that final push.
"Congratulations!" says the midwife. "You are the proud parents of a beautiful son."
She wraps the baby in his sheets and presents him to the proud but exhausted parents. Just as the parents hold the child, there is a commotion from outside and the feeling of pressure like that split second before an explosion when all the air rushes towards the blast before expanding outward.
When the bubble finally bursts, it brings with it every color of the rainbow; not in a beautiful pattern but in a chaotic mess of color that washes over everything. That's when the weirdness begins. Solid parts of stone and brick walls suddenly crumble to dust, others triple their mass, while others still stretch into dimensions that the mind can't comprehend. Animals, people, and inanimate objects sprout tentacles from various places on their bodies or structures. The town well shoots water 100 feet into the air and more than one of the town's horses turns itself inside out. Nowhere was safe. People were hiding, changing, or fighting off the monstrosities that their animals or even houses had become. No one even really noticed the short fat man that walked through the center of town only to vanish into thin air mere minutes later.
The Day of Chaos had come. Sama'el Dishane, Lord of Madness, walked the land.
The randomness ended as abruptly as it had come. Many were dead, many would never be the same. The poor family who had just given birth now looked down at their newborn. He wasn't breathing. Just as they were about to call for the local Thelinite, assuming there still was one, the infant scrunched its face up in what looked like an act of sheer willpower and uttered a scream before it started crying like any newborn infant would. The parents cried in surprise and joy.
Through his infant years the child seemed like any other. He always seemed aloof, though, and it was readily apparent that his sheer force of will was stronger than that of men more than 4 times his age. Injuries didn't faze him, in fact he often would ignore injuries that make most people pass out from pain. He once tripped and fell headfirst into a fireplace and cane out of it without a scratch or a burned hair. Another time, to deny his parents, he refused to eat for a week straight until they held him down and force fed him. After that, his parents kept him in the house...they were afraid to let him go outside. They wanted no one to realize the drastic differences of their son..he could be ostracized or worse.
When the boy was 13 years old things got worse. His parents found themselves doing things for the boy and then not remembering they'd done them. They could never bring themselves to punish him, no matter what. Every time they thought about it, he just smiled at them and they forgot why they were angry in the first place. They had practically become slaves to him.
One day everything changed. That morning the parents woke up and it seemed like the mood was lifted in the house. Color had come back. Immediately they went to look for their son. His room was empty, all the clothes were gone, as was their son. The only thing left of note was a gold coin, set on edge, that seemed to be perpetually spinning on its edge. The father carefully walked over to the coin and picked it up, noting the jester masks on each side. He looked at his wife, embarrassed that the only expression on his face was relief.
The red-skinned tiefling looked down at the boy, now sitting in the non-descript room that they were in and then looked up at the old, bearded monk with the triangle tattoo on his forehead.
"Keep this one safe and well hidden for me my old friend, I'm going to need him in the near future."
The old monk nodded as Zivix stood up to leave and nodded at the child. "What is he?"
Zivix looked down once more. "Nothing this world has ever seen before, thanks to Sammy. I think I'll call him an Elan. He seems to be the first of his kind." With that Zivix vanished.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elan are a race that appear in the psionics handbook on page 10 where all their abilities are outlined.
"One more push," the midwife says.
The mother bears down and delivers that final push.
"Congratulations!" says the midwife. "You are the proud parents of a beautiful son."
She wraps the baby in his sheets and presents him to the proud but exhausted parents. Just as the parents hold the child, there is a commotion from outside and the feeling of pressure like that split second before an explosion when all the air rushes towards the blast before expanding outward.
When the bubble finally bursts, it brings with it every color of the rainbow; not in a beautiful pattern but in a chaotic mess of color that washes over everything. That's when the weirdness begins. Solid parts of stone and brick walls suddenly crumble to dust, others triple their mass, while others still stretch into dimensions that the mind can't comprehend. Animals, people, and inanimate objects sprout tentacles from various places on their bodies or structures. The town well shoots water 100 feet into the air and more than one of the town's horses turns itself inside out. Nowhere was safe. People were hiding, changing, or fighting off the monstrosities that their animals or even houses had become. No one even really noticed the short fat man that walked through the center of town only to vanish into thin air mere minutes later.
The Day of Chaos had come. Sama'el Dishane, Lord of Madness, walked the land.
The randomness ended as abruptly as it had come. Many were dead, many would never be the same. The poor family who had just given birth now looked down at their newborn. He wasn't breathing. Just as they were about to call for the local Thelinite, assuming there still was one, the infant scrunched its face up in what looked like an act of sheer willpower and uttered a scream before it started crying like any newborn infant would. The parents cried in surprise and joy.
Through his infant years the child seemed like any other. He always seemed aloof, though, and it was readily apparent that his sheer force of will was stronger than that of men more than 4 times his age. Injuries didn't faze him, in fact he often would ignore injuries that make most people pass out from pain. He once tripped and fell headfirst into a fireplace and cane out of it without a scratch or a burned hair. Another time, to deny his parents, he refused to eat for a week straight until they held him down and force fed him. After that, his parents kept him in the house...they were afraid to let him go outside. They wanted no one to realize the drastic differences of their son..he could be ostracized or worse.
When the boy was 13 years old things got worse. His parents found themselves doing things for the boy and then not remembering they'd done them. They could never bring themselves to punish him, no matter what. Every time they thought about it, he just smiled at them and they forgot why they were angry in the first place. They had practically become slaves to him.
One day everything changed. That morning the parents woke up and it seemed like the mood was lifted in the house. Color had come back. Immediately they went to look for their son. His room was empty, all the clothes were gone, as was their son. The only thing left of note was a gold coin, set on edge, that seemed to be perpetually spinning on its edge. The father carefully walked over to the coin and picked it up, noting the jester masks on each side. He looked at his wife, embarrassed that the only expression on his face was relief.
The red-skinned tiefling looked down at the boy, now sitting in the non-descript room that they were in and then looked up at the old, bearded monk with the triangle tattoo on his forehead.
"Keep this one safe and well hidden for me my old friend, I'm going to need him in the near future."
The old monk nodded as Zivix stood up to leave and nodded at the child. "What is he?"
Zivix looked down once more. "Nothing this world has ever seen before, thanks to Sammy. I think I'll call him an Elan. He seems to be the first of his kind." With that Zivix vanished.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elan are a race that appear in the psionics handbook on page 10 where all their abilities are outlined.
