Many years ago, in the south of Creation, a god of futures faced a creature from the Demon City that devoured possibility and turned destinies into ash. Knowing that its end was upon it, the god chose a favored servant who could stand against the beast. Turning Wind drew his second breath that day as his patron empowered him with both his own godly essence and the borrowed glory of the Unconquered Sun.
For his assistance against the foes of Creation, Turning Wind was ill-rewarded. Yes, he saw his opponent’s moves before they acted, the strike of the claws before they swung… but he saw too much. It overwhelmed him. Turning Wind sought to return his power, but the one who had chosen him was gone. When he tried to kill himself, he met a fellow prophet, sent from the stars, who refused to let him die. Angered by the gods and their servants, Turning Wind roamed Creation for years, attempting to escape his destiny as it followed him relentlessly.
Turning Wind found himself perpetually entangled in the weave of fate and the matters of the Chosen. From the Dragon-Blooded he learned why his existence was needed. Their indolence and arrogance carved out a place for him as a defender of Creation’s tapestry. From the Chosen of the Moon he learned the term “The Scum of Heaven” for those who hounded him.
Eventually Turning Wind came to Slumber’s Grasp, just after the death of Prince Selno. There, on the mountaintops, he discovered a truth that the Sidereals had kept from him: that the Wyld was beyond the reach of fate. His visions calmed. Here in the chaos, his mind was free. He sat there for as long as his body would last, hoping to die saner than he had lived. His last sight was a strong young woman bending down to lift his body and carry him off the mountain. Anvil Loves the Forge had rescued him and brought him to the castle of ancient King Thenor.
This was a watershed moment in Turning Wind’s life. He found himself unexpectedly grateful for Anvil, despite her nature, as well as for the family that showed him such concern. Seeing that Anvil hid her gifts, he did so as well, becoming a “wise advisor” to the family that never realized he could truly see the future. To the rest of the valley he is The Mad Prophet. To the ruling family, he is Uncle Wind. Well, sometimes “Crazy Uncle Wind.”
Turning Wind still spends much of his time on the peaks near Slumber’s Grasp, where the Wyld blows mad and free and his waking dreams are quieted. There may be a time when he abandons himself to the ecstasies of chaos, but for now, he still has the willpower to drag himself back to the castle, and back to those who care for him.
Turning Wind looks to be in his sixties, with a wrinkle-creased face and dark reddish-brown skin. He has a long grey beard and moustache, with long dark hair in dreadlocks to his shoulders. He wears loose-fitting robes. He rarely bathes unless he is traveling to the castle.
When he returns from the Wyld, Wind is good-natured, even-keeled, crafty, and insightful. He is a delight to be around. As he spends more time in Creation, his mind wanders. His insights are no less keen, but he becomes distractible and bleary-eyed. Once he has been outside the Wyld for a month or more, he is ill-tempered and unfocused. He snaps at people who are not present. He often pushes others away, sometimes emotionally, sometimes physically. Since Wind does not like others to see him this way any more, he tends to spend no more than two weeks at the castle. Sometimes the Wyld recharges his mind quickly; sometimes slowly.
Intimacies: “The Wyld offers me release” (Defining) “My responsibilities are finished” (Major), “The Scum of Heaven” (Negative), “Anvil Loves the Forge” (Positive), “The Royal Family” (Positive)
Turning Wind is an experienced traveler. He can ride, sail, and backpack his way through inclement weather and poor terrain. He can make simple poultices and bind broken bones. He speaks a variety of languages, though he can’t quite shake his coastal accent. He is an excellent dancer and a terrible chef. Wind is personable when his mind is clear, but has no strong force of personality to back up his words.
Wind’s attachment to fate gives him the ability to see the future as it specifically pertains to him and the things he personally can influence. He sees chains of causation and threads of influence: do this, and that may happen. Do not, and another thing will come to pass. Choices that are closer to the now appear to him more frequently. He finds himself continually forced to make and re-make decisions that other people will not be faced with for days. This constant mental pressure wears down his willpower. Threads of destiny also protect him in a variety of ways, from causing unease and discomfort that keeps the Fair Folk at bay to making him accidentally spill a poisoned drink. There is truly no such thing as luck in his life. All things are tied to the grand purpose of fate.
As a trained martial artist, Turning Wind’s abilities are greatly enhanced by his prophetic gifts. He practices an unarmed style called Heaven’s Wheel, which utilizes joint locks, throws, and circular motions both large and small. His essence flows through his techniques, allowing him to evade attacks before they are thrown, hurl opponents great distances, and even redirect an opponent’s attack. He knows a series of cripplingly painful joint locks that are effective against supernatural beings and automata. In the Wyld, however, he is unable to perceive the future. He is so used to using his visions while fighting that he could be easily overcome there.
- Shimmering Threads Unfurled, the god of destiny who originally chose him. Deceased.
- Sigrid, a guard who thinks he’s a fraud. Sly, judgmental, blabbermouth.
- Roopa, who tries to get Wind to discuss his past, sometimes successfully. Intimidating, considerate, industrious.
- Henri, who knows where he dwells in the Wyld. Smiling, cautious, addicted.
- What do the Sidereals know about Turning Wind that they aren’t telling him?
- Does Turning Wind know that Silent Feather is here? If so, does he know why?