Post by Bharune on Jun 21, 2011 14:00:23 GMT -5
Name: Nadani de Winter
Nicknames/Alias: Nadani of the Winterlands, Man of White Words, Father of the People
FF: FFX
Position: Grand Maester of Yevon
Age: Appears mid-thirties
Height/build: 5’11, average
DoB: Unknown
Race: Human
Weapon: None/Unknown
Level: Unknown
Strength: Unknown (has yet to be seen in combat)
Physical: -
Magical: Predominant
Agility: -
Special Skill(s):
Empathy: Nadani seems to have a keen sense for the energies projected by an individual, a group, or a local populace. This allows him to pick up on emotions and motives with relative ease, though it isn't infallible.
Blink: A technique for short-distance teleportation, Blink allows Nadani to rapidly vanish and reappear in a different spot. Blink has a maximum distance of 40 yards (120 ft), but teleporting into an area he can't see clearly or has never been in is extremely risky. Blink ignores physical restraints.
Influence: A minor suggestion ability that influences the emotions of nearby individuals. Effect is amplified if the target is touched, though it does not allow him to read thoughts; he merely uses it to impose mental serenity or turmoil.
Channel Voice: Allows him to use the magic and abilities of his Aeon -- something he utilizes sparingly, as powerful or prolonged channeling causes traits of his Aeon to alter his physical appearance (a repercussion that is temporary, but still startling for others to witness).
Extraplanar Shift: Traversing the planes has become something of a routine for the Grand Maester, though it requires leaving his physical body behind and vulnerable. He can explore realms that exist closely with the world of mass and matter -- such as the Farplane -- and can emerge in any familiar location in the physical realm, though in an incorporeal spiritual state. His body remains wherever he was when he started his travel. In this state, he is often disconnected from his Aeon.
Extraplanar Senses: All that time spent adventuring in planes removed from the physical one gifted Nadani with the capacity to detect and converse with immaterial entities, including the dead (assuming they haven't completely passed into the Farplane) and the Fayth.
Grant/Force Physicality: One of Nadani's more unique and useful abilities is being able to craft a physical shell around an incorporeal form. The incorporeal entity must be restrained -- though not necessarily willing -- before being bound to a body, and he must be able to access the required energy resources (which isn't usually a problem). This does allow him to restore the dead as long as he has access to the deceased's spirit and functioning brain, because once the target become a pyrefly it generally loses the sentience required to successfully operate a body (he could make a pyrefly physical, but it'd be relatively useless). The exception are Fayth, who regain sentience as a collective, and therefore could inhabit a physical body without the need of a preexisting brain.
This technique also allows him to create a new physical body for himself after teleportation, though the new body is detached from his Aeon and dies once he leaves it (the exception being his original body, which is preserved by his Aeon).
Endure Damage: Because his spirit and his body are not closely hewn, he can endure more physical damage than other creatures, and the destruction of his body may not cause his soul to pass on (though it would be very inconvenient, to be sure).
Forge Saint: The act of amplifying a loyal warrior's power through a complicated, irreversible process. Requires two participants to create a balanced saint (I doubt this will ever be used in the RP, but if it does come up I'll add a more elaborate description).
Magic: People have seen him cast a variety of white magic, including spells for healing, cleansing disease, and breathing life into the recently deceased. No one has ever witnessed any form of black-magic from him, though the nature of his Blink ability may fall under that category.
Summon: He speaks often of his Aeon, but it has never been seen. He refers to it as 'Fortuna', though it is unknown whether this appellation is the Aeon's actual name.
Appearance: Though he commands an odd sort of atmosphere, Nadani appears relatively unremarkable. He's a handsome man somewhere in his thirties with long, blonde hair and light blue eyes, but has no fascinating or suspicious scars or physical characteristics. His height is average, his broadness is average, and he's not especially muscular or slender.
As the Grand Maester of New Yevon, he wears Yevonite robes for formal events, though his version of the attire is white and gold to signify the purification of Yevon for the people. Occasionally, he dons the old colors to show humility, but he prefers to wear his regular clothes more than the religious robes. He believes he creates a better rapport with the people the less distinguished he is from them, which is a top priority because his toil is solely for the greater good of Spira and her denizens.
Personality: Again, Nadani is an odd one, to be sure.
The first adjective most people would use to describe Nadani is 'fatherly', which suits his position perfectly. Whether he's gently reassuring or sternly reprimanding, he always carries himself as a sort of universal father for the people of Spira. He seems to have no family of his own, yet that paternal instinct feels genuine and built into the very core of his personality.
Nadani is also supremely wise and charismatic -- the former endeared him to the current and previous Maesters of Yevon and the latter allowed him to win the hearts of those residing within the spiral of death. Additionally, he has a good sense of humor, often making jokes even when most wouldn't find the situation very humorous. But like any individual, he has a flipside, and when he's serious he tends to speak in a soft whisper that is somehow extremely off-putting, even frightening.
History:
Pages from the personal texts of High Priest Ranik:
From the ice and crystal of Macalania he came, white as a ghost, his pale hair frosted a cold silver. How long had he rested there before they found him, bare is if he had been born of the snow itself? How long wrapped in Shiva’s frigid embrace did he remain, waiting for the gentle soul who would carry his chilled vessel to Bevelle? As I neared the hospice, I saw him from the steps and was startled by his skeletal pallor, and before I could think I rushed down to offer what aid I could to one I was certain would soon become a corpse. Even though the frost had melted from his skin and hair, a deep, numbing coldness still pervaded his flesh, so thorough one would swear his organs would crack inside at the slightest jostle. I did not think this man would live to wake.
We warmed him, and for weeks he remained breathing yet still. Color returned to him slowly. And then, finally, animation.
The man brought to us seemed to be around 30 in years and blessed with good health – other than the hypothermia and slight malnutrition – and he was average in appearance, though handsome. There was nothing to suggest that he was more blessed by Yevon than other people who had survived harsh or strange conditions, people we saw routinely at the temple, yet I found myself constantly treading those steps to see if he required anything to better aid his recovery.
Even when his body and coherence were restored to him, the man remembered nothing before Bevelle; he didn’t know where he came from or where he his destination might be. He didn’t know Spira or the temples. He didn’t even know Yevon. When asked if he could recall his name, it took many hours of contemplation before he ventured to respond that he believed it was ‘Nadani’, or something of similar sound. I told him he could stay in the temple as long as he needed.
During the man’s recovery, something strange happened. People started coming to see him.
It began simply enough; a poor, demented old man who had lost his two Crusader boys to war sat next to the window, babbling to the squawking birds as he did every morning. I can only fathom how our amnesiac guest managed to strike up a conversation with old Leru, I only know that I turned to see them conversing closely, in hushed tones. I thought to myself “What could a man who knows nothing possibly have to say to a man who understands nothing?” Yet Leru acknowledged and responded to Nadani in a way that he never had to any other.
The next day I was informed that Leru left the hospice, completely lucid. I thought for many moments that I was being made a fool of, yet when I descended those steps I found no old man squawking at the birds.
When a woman requested an audience with him, Nadani expressed profound bafflement but graciously agreed. They talked. The next day, there were two. Then several before lunch. And then…
They felt as drawn as I did, I realized. Drawn by something imperceptively magnetic, something that suggested he held the answers to questions people endeavored their whole lives to resolve. I wanted to ask him so badly that not a day passed when I didn’t visit the hospice, yet I was never able put it to words.
I didn’t know the question.
Locals started calling him “Nadani of the Winterlands” and spoke as if he was sent by Yevon, safeguarded by Shiva herself. Nadani remained oblivious to the honor bestowed on him by these rumors, and when he spoke he seemed to do so with a sincere, simple wisdom only capable by a child or a creature ignorant of the world. He reminded me that sometimes knowledge taints our vision and experience becomes a filter, coloring every thought and concept. Yet here was this man who perceived life as something new and fascinating, who reached out to stray cats with food from his own plate, who made careful observations that resonated with all who listened, who had a queue of lost folk waiting hours outside the hospice in hopes of posing their dilemma. Somehow, every one of them left soothed.
We couldn’t have prevented him from becoming a leader even had we tried, so the temple embraced Nadani of the Winterlands. Yu Yevon was struggling from internal conflict between the Maesters and Praetors, and even I – a simple man who aims only to be of service to those in need – could only watch helplessly as Nadani was caught between the two, both divisions knowing whichever secured his support would gain an irrefutable following. I lamented his inevitable corruption at the hands of those who cared naught for the people, but only for selfish gain and political prestige.
But I was wrong. Nadani took neither faction, and at the same time both, and changed everything.
He didn’t spout meaningless words, but seized Yevon and molded it, preaching new interpretations of the teachings. At first, he received an equal measure of support and adversity, yet when the old, stubborn, or jaded spoke out against him, he merely took their hands with soft smile, explained his vision for Spira, and the naysayer walked from his presence a loyal believer. He lifted the taboo on machina, welcoming the innovative natures of the Al Bhed. He did away with old traditions, saying people continued to follow them like puppets but had forgotten their meaning.
He appeared as a prophet-king in robes of white, and never before had Spira been inspired with such a sense of hope for the future.
“There are those of you who say ‘Yevon is a thing of corruption’, ‘Yevon is a thing of death’, ‘Yevon is a hopeless spiral’, and yet who broke that spiral? You did, people of Spira! For a thousand years your family, your loved ones, your summoners, your guardians, your Crusaders, you laid your bodies upon the gears of this machina, your blood oiled its cogs and your souls powered the endless wheel! And what does atonement feel like? What does retribution feel like? I’ll tell you! It feels like an empty void where suffering and hardship once rested! And empty void that used to house piety and adulation! Trust! Respect! What rests there now, deep in your breast? Naught but restlessness!
But times are changing, my friends. Spira is changing. Yevon has been destroyed, and now it’s time to create something entirely different from its ashes! Wisdom need not be shunned for past ignorances. Compassion, endurance, tranquility...these are things to be cherished and nurtured. These are lessons to teach our children, to model our lives after. Without these things, your emptiness will never be filled! And do you think us safe now that Sin has been vanquished? Do you think there could be such a thing as an ‘eternal calm’? While I loathed the idea of being the harbinger of misfortune, I have seen beyond the seas and the skies of Spira, beyond even the Farplane, and out there exists worlds far removed from our own, far removed from what we could ever hope to prepare for! I know the very thought of this will frighten and shock some, biting to the very bone, and others will be filled with unshaking skepticism, but I fully believe I’m here to help you prepare Spira for a future that exists so far beyond the solitary Spiral!”
Some people followed him with a zealous passion. Some people preached against him, shunned him, slandered his name. Most waited with bated breath, hovering in the shadow of uncertainty.
And then the Merge came.
Penned in as an afternote:
Six or seven months after the Merge, I left Bevelle in search of stronger medicines from a few major cities not of Spiran origin. Following the Grand Maester’s example, I struggled to think of all the ways Spira could benefit from the phenomenal collision of worlds, and I decided a small start would be the study of remedies more effective than our own. During this journey, I met several individuals who insist they knew our Grand Maester, and in an earnest attempt to unearth for the Grand Maester some trace of his forgotten family (he never did recover his memory) I pursued these hints with hopes that even a small discovery would offer the Grand Maester some solace. Most rumors led to nothing but whispers and ghosts – as things of this nature often do – but I was able to find a few tidbits of uncanny interest. Be they substantial, I can’t know for sure.
In a place called Bur-Omisace an individual fitting the Grand Maester’s description was rumored to have resided there, one who carried no name but was simply referred to as ‘the Whisperer of White’. Or was it…’in White’? Since Bur-Omisace is not a Spiran location, I did not think much of it.
But in the country of Galbadia, I stumbled across a portrait that presented the exact likeness of the Grand Maester, signed by an artist from another province of that same world, dated more than ten years before the merge. When I interrogated the auctioneer about the authenticity of the date, I was rather forcibly ‘encouraged’ to take an early leave of the auction. A bit embarrassing, really, but I did learn that the portrait was salvaged from a manor in a city called ‘Deling’. Should I ever find myself near that place, I intend to continue my investigation there.
Despite these strange coincidences – if they are coincidences – my faith is not in the slightest shaken. The fates work in unknown ways, after all.HPL. Ranik
