Bami, Tarak and Qq reflect on the danger and escalation of Chaos in their lives and decide to
After the fall of Kantan, an extreme depression weighs on the huge shoulders of the Minotaur and he questions his allegiances….Qq had saved him from slavery and therefore earns his lifelong devotion, yet the Keepers of Lir have advanced his learning and experience tenfold….After much contemplation and communion with the primal spirits, Bami decides the world needs more focus on healing and simplicity, not a possible endless tract through chaotic corruption. Bowing out of the elite group, Bami rests in the opportunity of helping his friend Qq into his retirement and focusing on strengthening his connection to the earth energies before none can be found in the destruction of the world………….
It was clear the night of the meteor swarm that heralded Bami’s birth. The entire “Gorgon Tribe” of bulls witnessed this spectacular display and together vowed to protect this newborn and it’s destiny. It was a traditional childhood of laborious chores, and fighting with friendly rivals that kept him busy but it was the raw power of nature that compelled Bami.
Sure, he was tough and won many contests and feats of strength amongst his peers, but in his teen years he turned his attention the the tribe’s shaman, Kordith. He shared with his mentor that since he was young, voices could be heard just out of his reach, an inviting sound that didn’t trouble him as much as give rise to wonder. The elderly bull shaman decided to begin Bami’s training sending him on a minor spirit quest into the wild. Unprepared for the nightmare awaiting him, Bami gladly accepted. His family was honored by the hopes of him becoming a spiritual guide for the tribe’s next generation and anxiously awaited his unfolding destiny.
His destination was a vast salty flat waste that once was home to a grest lake. “The Gorgons” protected this lake in ancient times as it often gave rise to prophetic visions from its shimmering waters. Kordith himself had been visited by a spirit from Lake Oortin and the tribe treated the area with deep reverence. Donning a traditional white shawl to protect from the punishing heat and sand, Bami entered this wilderness. After a long week with no food and 3 empty waterskins, the only voices in his head were of self doubt. No visions had appeared to him, save the sandstorms and crusting salt upon his hooves. Returning home defeated and puzzled, he saw it. Smoke rising from where his homeland used to be caused his heart to slam up into his throat and he ran to the scene of the devastating raid.
Charred remains littered the valley, signs of great struggle were evident. His tribe had been ruthlessly decimated by fire and dark magic. He could feel a heavy pall in the air, a gloomy evil that would continue to haunt him the rest of his life. Who or what could have done this? And why would The Gorgons be targeted by such villainy? Slavers they were not, a more sinister disease fueled these murderers, and only one clue had been left behind. A tattered remnant of fine silk, embroidered with a unique design of enterlacing serpents. It was all that the marauders gave him but it was enough. Grief and rage his only remaining siblings, he pushed himself into the desert to pursue an elusive vengence.
His quest for connecting with the Primal Spirits would have to wait, a more burning desire urged him now. Whoever they were, they travelled fast without a trace and Bami was left in the wilderness, lost. Finding a rocky landscape, he retired to a cave and rested in contemplation. Thorny bushes and echoing wind were his comfort and Bami drew deep from the primal currents. Finding new resolve, he vowed to draw strength from the earth to protect and not destroy,to be shelter from the world’s enemies of darkness. His hatred slowly passed as the vigor of the land entered him and his sicknesses healed faster and wounds mended cleaner. He was ready.
The voices he often heard asked him to champion their cause: Of defending the land and ridding it of the unnecessary evils that punish the innocent and darken the earth. Bami took up his spear and decided to hunt this very darkness. Being the cruel world that it is, his newfound endowments and freedom was crushed. Maybe he took a wrong turn out of the ravine, but the Slaver’s supply train just happened to come by for a shortcut. Blinded by his relapse of anger, Bami rushed into the midst of the slaver party, taking down a dozen wretched men before they bound him. Disheveled
and bloodied, Bami entered the world of fighting to stay alive…..
His endurance allowed him many survivals in the arena circuit and his masters won many bets on him. A mild mannered Sunfolk Brawlmaster named Qq bought him and put him to the test amongst other bold fighters. He wasn’t a cruel master and in fact was more of an uncle to the gladiators. Knowing little other than fighting and communing with the Primal forces, Bami was content in a way, competing in the grand city arenas and quietly traveling the vast deserts in between. Still, a greater cause surfaced in his life, an opportunity to become a herald of good in this great world of dark, burning suns.