Born under the shining light of the lone white star was a baby with ivory skin and the lightest touch of ginger hair on its head. Which was strange as he was born the child of a couple of desert nomads, a folk typically sun-kissed by the burning gaseous orb in the sky to a deep brown colour of their skin. Their child was recognised as an albino, the most revered and respected members of their community. They called their son Wolfram. The first few years of Wolfram’s years were marked by a typical family life in the nomad community. Together with his parents, Wolfram spent his days traversing the desert, searching for food and water whilst getting a basic education from the caravan's elders. Wolfram never was happier than these first years, playing with the other children unknowing that his future would be spent in isolation and in elitist circles. At his ten-year mark, typically a joyous occasion as it was the day the children became part of the community and received their own mount, Wolfram woke up to find no celebrations were being prepared. What’s more is that next to his bedroll, he found his mother crying and his father silently consoling her. He didn’t understand. Wolfram got up but wasn’t even out of his tent before black-clad strangers entered the tent. They explained how he was destined to become a shaman thanks to his gifted nature as a child of the lone white star. Shamans were practitioners of the Arcane Arts, focused on bringing peace and prosperity to the nomad communities. To become a Shaman he had to be trained and educated in the Arcane, starting from that day. And so, he did receive his first mount, a small camel to ride himself all the way to the Oasis, the magical capital of the Nomads. It was said to be the one place where vegetation was lush and thick, where everybody was well-fed and happy and no-one died of exhaustion being scorched in the sun. Wolfram had never believed the stories, thinking the Oasis was a fairytale and nothing more. Upon arrival he nearly fainted merely at the sight of the place. It was everything he had ever heard being described and even more. The place looked like a cove hidden in a sandy mountain, but water fell from the top of the mountain all the way down to a giant lake surrounded by houses and towers. Giant trees brought shadow on the rooftops, and he felt the temperatures drop almost immediately. He didn’t have time to settle into his new life. The day he arrived, he was brought before the council of Shamans, the court of the seven most powerful Shamans in the Nomad community. It was preceded by the Shaman of the Oasis, the most powerful and influential Shaman and the tiebreaker in case the other Shamans on the council didn’t reach agreement in certain rulings. He was divided into a house of study, of which there were 3. They explained that each one of them practitioner a specific part of the Arcane Arts. The House of the Vulture was focused on the arts of delaying death and granting salvation to people in the direst of consequences, exhaustion, dehydration and malnutrition. The other House was the House of the Jackal, focused on the martial arts and defensive practice. But Wolfram was placed in the House of the Sun Cat, the house focused on research and divination. They were the leaders of the community, focused on finding resolve and policy where there was none. The only light in an otherwise very disturbing day was his pet. As was custom, the newly appointed members of the House of the Sun Cat received their own cat as companion. It was believed that the better the relationship and bond between the Sun Cat was, the bigger the potential Arcane powers the wielder could tap from. Another practice of the Houses of the Oasis was that each and any one of the Shamans in training had to research the different Runes of the world and master one of them. Wolfram quickly decided upon the Rune of Earth, as he believed the others were less powerful in their ways in the desert. He had heard of the Shamans of old that wielded the Rune of Earth. They were the ones that created the Oasis, by carving out a place on the side of the mountain. The water that fell was also their creation, as they had found a spring covered by the sand. He wanted to carve his name on the face of history like these Shamans before him did so following in their footsteps seemed like the most logical step. And then his education ended. With each cycle of generations of Shamans stopping their education and moving onto the real life of a Shaman, the council had decided that certain positions had to be given up and the Shamans in power had to retire in favour of the young ones. This meant that the time of graduation was filled with political debate and conflict. Everyone wanted to try and position themselves in the best possible place to become the next famous Shaman of the Oasis. Gifts were given, received and traded to gain respect or leverage over others. And like that Wolfram received a headpiece. It was not an ordinary headpiece but the Cape of the Animist, containing magical powers to communicate with animals and hear the secrets of the world from them. Wolfram didn’t understand what was happening. Who gave this gift? And why did he receive a gift of immense value? But after a few days, it all became clear. At the official ceremony to appoint the new Shamans, Wolfram didn’t receive an appointment. With each passing name, he felt himself become desperate, and he started wondering what would become of him if he didn’t receive an appointment. But then, at the end of the ceremony, his name was called. Wolfram was to become the Shaman of the Oasis, the highest honour he could possibly receive. And now, he is seated at the head of the Council, wielding the Staff of the Shaman of the Oasis.

Entered by: 0x33dD…cc37 and preserved on chain (see transaction)